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#ignore the fact that it's only still the 14th for two of them right now
mrmcwigglyman · 10 months
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Totally didn't forget to post this earlier, but I'm super proud of ENdless. First full Idol gen that I was actually there to watch debut, it hardly feels like 6 months have passed since then. Looking forward to much more fun stuff from them in the future. The collab stream was super well put-together, and I loved it when everyone showered Kai in compliments at the end, because she really deserved it. Everyone there works so hard at what they do!
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stylesloveclub · 1 year
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Pleasing (vday blurb)
In which Harry takes y/n out for valentines day, and y/n gets a bit handsy when she's drunk. :)
+++
Harry’s hand grazes y/n’s face, pushing the hair out of her eyes. They’re cuddled up in his bed together, y/n scrolling mindlessly on her phone while Harry just sort of… lies there and stares at her. Her eyes glimmer with the light of her screen, distracted and unaware of how Harry’s eyes flicker across her face. He doesn’t mind how distracted she is, though, because it means he can stare at her as much as he wants (without her getting shy and hiding away).
“Baby,” he whispers, running his thumb over her cheekbone. 
“Hm?” she doesn’t look up from her phone, but kisses the pad of his finger as he traces over her lips. 
“What’s your schedule like on Tuesday?”
“Um…” she locks her phone and throws it down on the bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she tries to remember what she has planned for the upcoming week. “I have class at 10, and then my last class ends at two…”
“Are you working?” he asks, resting his hand on her hip and pulling her close. 
“No…” Harry’s thigh makes its way between her legs, tangling their limbs together now that she’s finally off her phone. “S’weird cos I always get scheduled on Tuesdays. Dunno why Alfredo decided not to this week.” 
Harry hides his smile, already knowing the answer to that. He specifically made sure that she wouldn’t be working on this special night. 
“So you’re free then?” 
“Yeah, I should be.” she says with a cute smile, excited that Harry’s hinting at doing something special together. “Why?”
He chuckles. “Do you even know what next Tuesday is?”
She furrows her brows at him, still smiling, but a bit confused. “Um…” she pulls out her phone and opens up her calendar. “Next tuesday… the 14th of February…” her breath catches in her throat and she looks up at him with round, soft eyes. “Oh.”
His eyes are warm as he laughs, crinkling softly in the corners. She’s adorable, the way she looks up at him with such wide, surprised eyes, looking like he just asked her to marry him when he literally only brought up valentines day. It makes his heart melt, his sweet, precious girlfriend, so easily excited and happy. Like a little bundle of sunshine lying right in his arms. 
For her entire life, she’s always been alone on Valentine’s day. She’s never had someone buy her flowers or take her out for dinner on that special day… she’s usually just at home, by herself, studying or doing laundry as if it were any other day of the year. She’s spent so many years ignoring the fact that it was even a holiday… that she totally forgot that it was coming up this month. 
But Harry remembered. 
“Can I take you out, baby? Will you be my valentine?”
Her heart flutters as Harry whispers to her softly, looking into his eyes and just drowning in the adoration that fills them. His eyes are always so warm, so loving and kind, communicating so much to her without having to say anything. It overwhelms her, how wonderful and perfect he is. She hides herself in his chest, whining softly. He’s the sweetest in the world and it makes her want to cry. 
Harry laughs, and y/n can feel the deep vibrations rumbling through his chest. “Why’re you hiding?” he asks, the smile evident in his voice as he smooths a palm over her hair. 
“You’re perfect,” she whines, burying herself deeper into his neck. She never in a million years thought that she’d be lucky enough to have such an amazing boyfriend. A kind, sweet, handsome boyfriend who planned special things for valentines day, who coddled her and kissed her and took care of her so sweetly. 
She loves him. She’s bursting with it and it takes everything in her not to say it out loud. The three words have been on the tip of her tongue for weeks now, slowly growing more and more prominent in the forefront of her mind. It’s so hard for her to just not say, especially when he does all these sweet things.
He kisses her hair and wraps both of his arms around her, letting her hide in his chest even though he wants nothing more than to see her pretty eyes. “Just want t’make you happy baby,” he says quietly. 
She lifts her head and asks him with a shy smile, “What are we gonna do?”
He kisses the tip of her nose. “It’s a surprise.”
+++
After her classes on Tuesday, she rushes home and hops in the shower for a solid hour. She does her full body shower routine, deep conditions her hair and puts on a face mask so that she’s feeling nice and pampered. She’s planning on getting all dolled up tonight – she’s gonna do her make-up all nice and style her hair, wear a pretty dress and heels that she only busts out twice a year.
As a busy college student, she doesn’t really get the chance to make herself feel pretty. She’s genuinely so caught up with school and work all the time that she barely has an extra 10 minutes to do her makeup or pick a nice outfit in the mornings. She usually rolls out of bed and goes to class in her comfiest sweatshirt and jeans, with minimal makeup and her hair thrown up so that it’s out of her face while she’s studying.
That’s why these dates with Harry are always such a treat for her! He always plans them on days when he knows that she’s not busy… never during her stressful midterms weeks or when she has a long shift at the restaurant. He makes sure that he can treat her to a nice night after she’s done cramming for her physics midterm, so that she can really relax and enjoy herself. 
With no homework or upcoming exams, she has all night to get ready and feel pretty. Then, around seven-ish, Harry texts her that he’s on the way to pick her up. 
She puts on a coat and dabs her lips with a light layer of gloss, staring at herself in the mirror and taking a deep breath. Her heart flutters in her chest as she heads out the door, nervous to see Harry… not in a bad way, more-so a romantic, jittery, I-can’t-wait-to-kiss-my-hot-boyfriend way. 
Harry’s shiny black car stands out like a sore thumb in front of her crappy college apartment, big and expensive and an object of envy to any of the broke college kids who walk past. She rushes down and sees Harry standing out of the car, leaning against the passenger's side door. He smiles at her, that hot half smile that makes his cheek dimple. 
He’s dressed in a dark teal suit, with white stitching around the wrists and under the lapels. Underneath it, he wears a silvery blue silk button down, which he’s left unbuttoned enough to show off the beautiful butterfly on his stomach. His hard rings glimmer on his fingers as he waves at her, and as she walks towards him, she finds a delicate pearl necklace also wrapped around his neck. 
When she reaches him, he rests a hand on her hip and cradles her jaw with the other hand. “Baby,” he murmurs, flickering his eyes all over her face, “you look so pretty.” He leans down and kisses her softly, her sticky gloss transferring onto his lips as they pucker, and he hums at the sweet taste of it. When he pulls off from the kiss, his lips shine prettily with the shimmer of her gloss. She giggles and wipes it off with her thumb. 
“I love this suit,” she whispers, smoothing her hands over the expensive fabric. The silk feels soft under her palms, thin enough so that she can feel the hard ridges of his abdomen twitch as she gracefully dances her fingers across the material. Her eyes flicker over the dainty jewelry he wears, fingers coming up to toy with the cross hanging from his neck and trace the tiny pearls on his collarbones. The heads of his swallows peek out from under his shirt, and she swallows thickly. 
Her boyfriend is… crazy hot. His hair is swirled messily atop his head, a stray curl falling into his eyes, and his stubble… god, his stubble. She kisses him again, holding his face, his facial hair scratching against her palms deliciously. She loves the way it feels against her skin, ticklish against her soft cheeks. She doesn’t want to stop kissing him in front of his car, doesn’t want to stop feeling his stubble or his large palms on the curve of her waist, but he pulls away with a cocky smirk on his pink lips. “C’mon puppy, don’t get too excited just yet.” 
He opens the car door for her and holds a hand out to help her into the car like a true gentleman, but she hesitates to climb in. When Harry looks at what she’s looking at, he lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh,” he chuckles, picking up the bouquet of flowers that he’d left on the passenger's seat. “Forgot t’give you these.” He smiles shyly, the slightest hint of a blush growing on his cheeks as he gives her the bundle of pink and white flowers. 
She melts right then and there, turning around with heart eyes. “Thank you,” she says with wide eyes. She goes to give him another kiss, but Harry dodges it by putting a thumb to her lips, knowing that if she gets on his lips they’ll be standing in front of his car and making out for another three minutes. 
“No more kissing, puppy,” he says, patting her ass and urging her into her seat. “Don’t wanna be late to our reservation.” 
+++
Y/n looks around in awe as Harry leads them through the beautiful vineyard. Harry’s brought them to a restaurant, y/n doesn’t know where, but by the looks of it… it’s expensive. Their table is outdoors, on a patio that overlooks miles and miles of grape vines. The patio itself is covered by the green plants, climbing up the rails of the fence and curling over the patio roof over them. The plants are lined with fairy lights, a soft, romantic ambiance that’s accompanied by the gentle hum of the other customers at the restaurant. 
Harry pulls out her chair for her, then takes a seat across from her. Their table is set up beautifully, with a single rose sitting in a vase as the centerpiece, surrounded by tea candles that burn softly. 
“Harry,” she whispers, still looking around and taking it all in, “this place is so pretty.” 
He smiles proudly. “One of my friends owns it,” he says, grabbing his napkin and draping it across his lap. “We went to culinary school together.” 
Y/n copies him, happy to be here but a little out of place. She’s just a college kid, she doesn’t really go to fancy restaurants… so she needs Harry to hold her hand a bit and tell her what to order. “What kind of food do they have here?” she says, confused that she hasn’t been given a menu yet.
“S’not the food we’re here for, s’the wine,” he explains with a soft smile.
Her mouth rounds out in a soft o, and she looks around, understanding the whole aesthetic. The vineyard, the wine glasses, the wall of wine bottles that they walked past… obviously this place is a winery. 
“Excited to try some wine? Get a little educated?” he teases. She’s reminded of how the first time she went over to his apartment and he cooked for her, he’d brought out wine for her and she’d admitted that she didn’t know anything about wine. 
Harry, being the sophisticated chef he is, is some sort of wine connoisseur who manages to pick out wines that y/n actually likes, since she usually finds them to be bitter and dull.
She’d rather have a shot of tequila and get drunk quickly instead of having to sip on some yucky wine. But drinking wine with Harry is always fun, and she’s excited for whatever he’s got planned. He has good taste and she has no doubt she’s gonna love everything they try tonight. 
+++
“Harryyy,” y/n giggles, tugging at the lapels of his suit. She’s leaning all of her weight into him, arms wrapped around his neck in a clingy way. Harry wraps an arm around her waist, trying to hold her steady as he chuckles softly to himself. She is such a lightweight.
During the wine tasting, their waiter brought out four different types of wine for them to try, each served with a different meal. The first was a wine meant to pair well with their appetizer of fancy french cheese and fruit, the second a palate cleanser, the third a deep red wine served with their pasta dish, and the final one a sweet dessert wine that y/n really liked. All of those glasses, especially that last one, have made y/n tipsy and super clingy. She’s busy suckling a love mark.
“Baby, c’mon, we gotta go,” he chuckles, trying to coax her out of his neck where she’s busy suckling a love mark.
She bites down on his skin, then presses a soft kiss over the mark she made at the base of his throat. “You look so hot in this suit,” she murmurs, gasping softly in his ear as his grip on her hip tightens. Holding onto him tightly, she feels his biceps bulging under his suit as he tries to guide her discreetly out of the restaurant and into the car. Feeling how strong and muscled he is… mmm it makes her feel things. She leans in for another kiss to his jaw, then bites down on his earlobe seductively.
“Puppy…” he warns, voice low and daunting. “S’not the time f’that.” 
She trails a hand down his chest, teasing at the buckle of his belt, “But I want you daddy.” 
His jaw clenches and he tries not to react, looking around to make sure that nobody’s paying attention to how dangerously close y/n’s fingers are getting to his crotch. Luckily, they’re the only two standing outside of the winery entrance, but he still grabs her wandering hands and stops them from teasing him any further. Holding both of her wrists in front of her in one of his hands, he looks down at her wide, dreamy eyes. She bites her lip playfully and blinks up at him, feigning innocence. 
“Need you to behave,” he coos, the hand not holding her wrists coming up to thumb at her bottom lip. “If you’re good… then I have a surprise for you at home.”
Her eyes widen excitedly. “What is it?” she asks breathlessly.
“S’a surprise,” he says again, eyes glimmering teasingly. He loves his tipsy girlfriend, so sweet and easily excited like a little puppy. He just needs to get them home without her trying to strip him in public. “Can you do that for daddy? Be a good girl until we get home?”
She nods eagerly. 
“Good,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her lips softly, like a little treat for her obedience. She looks up at him with these wide, dreamy eyes, and it makes Harry smile to himself. His little overexcited, easy to please puppy. 
“Now,” he smooths a hand over her hair, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Need to go say hi to Leo before we leave, do you want to come with me?”
She nods sweetly, on her best behavior. 
“No funny business, m’kay?” he warns. “Or else you're in for it when we get home.” 
+++
“Will you pour me a glass too?” y/n asks sweetly, sitting patiently on Harry’s couch as he uncorks the new bottle of wine. 
Leo, Harry’s old culinary school friend who owned the vineyard, had gifted them a bottle of the expensive dessert wine that y/n had loved so much as a thank you for coming to try his restaurant. This was perfect, as Harry, who hadn’t drank that much since he was gonna drive the two of them home, was ready to really indulge in the wine that he’d only taken a sip of at dinner. 
Y/n, despite already being tipsy from her four glasses of wine, is insistent on having another glass. The wine was just so yummy and sweet, with the aroma of berries and chocolate, it barely felt like she was drinking wine!
“I think you’ve had enough, puppy,” Harry says, pouring only one glass. If she has any more wine, she won’t be sober enough to even open the gifts he has for her. 
She pouts petulantly, “Who are you to tell me how much wine I can drink?”
He chuckles, beyond amused by her silly antics. She’s so cute when she’s drunk. “How about we just share this one puppy?” he tries to ration, “Won’t that be easier?”
She mulls it over, and remembers how sexy it was last time when he fed her wine from his glass. “Fine,” she sighs, leaning into him when he takes a seat next to her on the couch. The thought of sharing a glass with him and getting to suck the remnants off of his wine stained lips is the only thing that makes her agree. 
From behind his back, Harry reveals a small, Tiffany blue box. Y/n’s eyes widen and her heart stutters. “Harry,” she says, sitting up straight as he presents her with the gift. “Is this for me?”
He nods. “Open it,” he says with a soft dimple in his cheek.
She takes the box from him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know we were doing gifts,” she says with a pout. “I didn’t get you anything.” 
“Didn’t want you t’get me anything, baby,” he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Just saw it and thought of you. Valentine’s day was just an excuse for me t’give it to you.” 
She takes the small box from him and opens it gently, as though she’s afraid of breaking it. Inside is a delicate, heart shaped pendant on a dainty chain, resting softly atop the pillowy satin interior of the box. She traces over the soft detailing on the small pendant, in awe. Harry, thankful, has good taste, and hasn’t gotten her an obnoxiously large or colorful piece of jewelry. No, this necklace is dainty and subtle, just the way she likes, and as cheesy as the heart shaped pendant is… it makes her chest grow warm with love.
Harry’s large fingers pluck the necklace out of its box, and toy with the pendant for a second. The heart opens up, and reveals a picture of the two of them. “Look, it’s a locket,” he says proudly, showing her the tiny picture hidden in the heart of the pendant. She gasps and holds the pendant up to her face. The picture he’s chosen is one of her favorites, from one of their dates in the park when she’d randomly asked an elderly woman near them to take a picture of herself and Harry. 
The two of them don’t have many pictures together, in full honesty, just because they’re often just spending time with each other and don’t have any reason to take pictures. But that day, there was just something that made her want to remember the way she was feeling. In the picture, Harry stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Y/n holds onto his forearms, giving a huge, cheesy smile to the camera while Harry gives a kiss to her cheek.
This perfect moment in time, captured and stored in this heart shaped locket that she could wear right on top of her own heart… it makes her lower lip wobble and her eyes start to tear up. “Harry,” she barely manages to whisper around the thickness in her throat.
Harry’s quick to put the wine glass onto the coffee table in front of him as soon as he sees the tears. “Sweetheart?” he’s confused as she climbs into his lap, settling herself on his thighs and burying her face in his neck.
“I love you,” she sniffles into his chest, her tears rolling down her cheeks silently. “I love you so much. You’re the best, you’re so special to me, I love you.” This entire valentines day has made her so happy, and the fact that she’s tipsy on wine certainly doesn’t help her control over emotions. 
He lets out a chuckle that's a mixed sigh of relief, “Oh, sweetheart.” His hands smooth over her hair, and he pulls her up so that she’s no longer hiding in his neck and he can see her teary eyes. “I love you, you know I do,” he says, rubbing his thumb under her eyes and wiping away her tears. “My sweet girl, I love you more than you know.” 
She sniffles, and more tears come rolling down her face. “You do?” 
“F’course, m’love. Love seeing you, love being with you.” He kisses her cheek. “Please don’t cry, precious,” he whispers, “it hurts me. Don’t want t’see you crying.” 
“S-sorry.” She tries to gain control over her emotions, but every time she looks into Harry’s eyes and sees the warmth and adoration pouring from them, a new round of tears comes. “Harry, I love you,” she says again, holding onto his shirt to really make her point. “Wanted to tell you for so long, I-I love you so much. M’so glad you love me,” she sobs.
“Oh baby, you’re gonna make me start crying too,” he coos, running his thumb over her red bitten lips. “Can I put the necklace on for you? V’been wanting to see it on ever since I got it for you.”
She nods, sitting back and letting the last of her tears fall. Moving her hair out of the way, she bares her neck to him so that he can clasp the dainty chain at the nape of her neck. The heart shaped pendant rests delicately atop her chest, right below her collarbones and only a few inches away from her beating heart. She looks down at the necklace, playing with the locket and clicking it open to stare at the sweet picture inside.
“I love it,” she mumbles, letting it fall back down on her chest so that she can wrap her arms around Harry once more. 
He kisses her, “I love you.”
+++
After the tears, comes lots of wine. 
Harry genuinely finds it impossible to say no to y/n when she asks for a sip from his glass, especially when she climbs on his lap and blinks up at him so prettily. “Please?” she asks, resting her hands on his chest and watching as he sips from the glass. She bites her lip, watching as his tongue darts out to lick the remnants of the cherry wine off of his lips. 
“Y’sure you can handle more, baby?” he teases, his thumb tugging her lip out from between her teeth and watching it bounce back into place. His eyes flicker down to where his locket sits prettily atop her chest. This was his girl, sitting in his lap with his heart hanging around her neck. He looks back up at her, and she’s staring at him–puppy eyes and all–begging for a sip of the sweet wine. “Not sure a little girl like you should be having so much wine...” 
“M’not a little girl!” she grumbles, though she pouts like a little baby. 
He hums, amused, pressing small, wet kisses up the column of her throat. She tries to be mad at Harry’s teasing, eyebrows furrowed with an upset frown planted on her lips, but she can’t help the whine that bubbles from her throat when Harry licks and sucks at her neck so seductively. He whispers against her skin, “you think you deserve it?” 
“I-I do,” she barely manages to whimper out. 
“Let’s see then,” he murmurs, bringing the glass up to her lips. One of his large palms rests on her hip, holding her steady while his thumb draws soothing circles against the bare skin of her thigh. Her head is spinning from Harry’s constant teasing, and her mouth is dry from the way she was panting while Harry was kissing up her throat. The wine is a welcome refreshment, the sweet, aromatic liquid trickling into her mouth slowly as Harry feeds it to her. Her eyes flutter shut as she swallows. She feels Harry move underneath her hips and tries to sneakily get one last sip in before he pulls away the wine glass… but she ends up choking as Harry’s fingers graze against her clit.
She turns her head away, coughing harshly, clearing the wine that had snuck into her wind pipes and using the back of her hand to wipe away the wine that had sputtered out of her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry pouts, mockingly, “you’ve made a mess.” She tries to glare at him, but can’t as another round of coughs takes over. He pats her back soothingly as she clears her throat some more, his thumb wiping away the tears that escape the corner of her eyes. 
“You see?” he says when she’s breathing properly again. “Daddy was right. You’re just a messy little baby. Y’need daddy to take care of you.”
“You’re mean,” she sniffles. 
“I’m mean?” he scoffs, “How m’I mean, darling?” 
“Y-You’re teasing.” 
“M’not teasing, puppy,” he says, cupping her jaw romantically, despite his mocking tone. “I just know what’s best for you. You’re too messy.”
She humphs, looking away from him.
“Don’t be like that, puppy,” he coos, voice low and smooth, pressing a sticky kiss to her cheek with his wine stained lips. “Y’know I’m right.” 
She feels her resolve crumbling as his hands slide up and down her thighs, his breath tickling her ear and lips skimming the shell of it. She can feel herself getting wet as Harry presses more hot kisses against her skin, her breath catching in her throat. When his hand slides into her hair and tilts her face towards his, she shows no resistance. His lips find hers and he kisses her, slow and hot. She sighs into his mouth, always finding pleasure in the feeling of his lips against hers, even if she might be mad at him for being stingy with the wine. 
He tastes like the sweet berries of the wine, his tongue slipping into her mouth and sliding against hers hotly. She supposes this will have to do, sucking on his tongue and moaning at the sweet taste of the wine that she’s so excited for. Her legs squeeze around his hips as she presses herself down, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She pulls off of his lips with a quiet moan as she feels Harry’s palm grinding against her clit over her soaked panties. He buries his face in her neck, kissing and sucking while she throws her head back and rubs herself down on her hand. 
“All this for me, puppy?” Harry groans into her skin. “Soaked through your panties already, n’I barely even touched you.” 
She whimpers, embarrassed but not embarrassed enough to stop rubbing herself on his hand.
“What’s got you so worked up, hm?” His fingers pinch her clit through her panties, then slide down to finger her dripping slit. She hides her face in his neck, turned on and overwhelmed. 
“Maybe you like it when Daddy’s a little bit mean,” he murmurs, his voice nothing more than a dark rumble in his chest. Her cheeks burn at how easily he figured out the truth, how she gave herself away by getting so wet when he teased her, mocked her, called her a little girl who needed Daddy to take care of her.
The tightening of y/n’s fingers on his shirt and the fact that she refuses to take her face out of his neck while rubbing herself on his fingers tells him his answer. He chuckles lowly, trying to softly coax her out of hiding, “S’okay baby. Don’t be embarrassed.” 
When she whines petulantly and refuses to look at him, his voice turns stern. “Come on, puppy. Stop hiding.”
Oh and that voice… he’s just found out her weakness and is using it against her! She goes moony for Harry when his voice goes low and his grip grows heavy. She pulls herself out of his neck and looks up at him with wide eyes.
“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, petting her face, “Such a good girl for daddy, hm?” She stays humble, simply blinking up at him innocently, even though she wants to whine at him that she’s the best girl and that he shouldn’t be teasing her so much. She doesn’t need to beg, though, as he mutters to himself, “I think you deserve a reward.” 
His thumb, which had been tracing over her bottom lip softly, sinks into her mouth, her pretty lips parting around his thick finger as he pulls her mouth open. “Keep it open, m’kay?” he whispers. Her eyes glimmer excitedly as he slips the finger out. 
Reaching for the long abandoned wine glass, he takes a sip– but doesn’t swallow. Instead, he leans towards y/n’s open mouth and connects their lips, letting the dark wine spill from his mouth into hers. Y/n squeaks excitedly, finally understanding what he’s doing and lapping up the wine from his mouth quickly. Her fingers twist into his shirt unconsciously and she grinds down on his lap like an eager little puppy, trying to get as close to him as possible. She licks and sucks on his tongue, kisses him to lap up any of the wine left over on his lips, and swallows it down sweetly. When she pulls off, her eyes are blown out and her lips are stained red. 
That was more of a treat for him than for her, he thinks, with how eagerly she kissed him and rubbed herself on his lap. Harry can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips, his cocky dimple popping out on his cheek. “See how much better it is when Daddy does it?”
She doesn’t even have it in her to process his mocking words, mesmerized by him. She wants to keep kissing him, feel his hands all over her skin, drown in him. She leans in for a kiss, but each time her lips graze his he jerks his head back, mouth open in a teasing smirk. She pouts, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes.
Only when she’s sitting patiently does he give in, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her top lip. She presses herself into the kiss, her eyebrows furrowing with need as her hands grip the lapels of his shirt. A soft whimper escapes her when Harry’s fingers are back on her core, fingering up and down her soaked panties and tracing over her clit. He sneaks his hand into the front of her panties, his palm sliding slowly over her mound until his fingers feel the soft bud of her clit. 
She gasps into his mouth as his fingers start circling, soft and gentle swipes that make her twitch. His touch is so light, his fingers barely pressing down… but still it makes her whine and whimper, a burning feeling bubbling in her tummy. She’s already so close, but can you blame her? She’s been aching for him all night, literally has been yearning to feel his hands since they left the winery. She’s been eyeing his hands, with his strong fingers and thick knuckles and veins running up to his tattooed forearms. His warm palm, which he’d rested on her thigh the entire drive home. His soft thumb, which he’s been circling on her hip all night. 
And god, he’d looked so good tonight!!! It might be the wine that’s making her so extra horny, but Harry’s just so… hot. Not only is he smart and polite and gentlemanly, he’s also the most attractive man to walk the face of this earth. With his stubble and his broad back and strong arms… his pretty green eyes and his lips… his cocky smirk… he’s just such a man. He’s not like the stupid boys at school… he’s her sexy older boyfriend who takes her out for dinner and then fucks her til she’s crying. 
His tongue slips into her mouth at the same time that he slides a finger into her slit, the thick digit wiggling its way through her plushy walls to pet at the spot that makes her clench around him. He can only fit one of his big fingers into her tight hole, and the fit is so snug that it makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. His mouth is open as he kisses her, half of his mind focused on making sure to pet her in all the right places, while the other half tries to keep up with her eager kisses. He’s breathing her in, lips puckering around anything he can reach and his tongue sliding against hers, desperate to just taste her even if it makes their kiss a little messy.
Her breathing stutters and a high pitched squeak escapes her when he starts trying to work a second finger into her. She squeezes tight at the anticipation of it, making it hard for him to get another finger in there without hurting her. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs against her lips, retreating the second finger and rubbing at her clit a little bit more until she’s no longer clenching around him so hard. 
“Feels really good, daddy,” she whispers, her mouth in an open pout, too overwhelmed to try and keep kissing him. 
“I know sweetheart,” he murmurs back, lips skimming over her neck as he breathes in her sweet scent, before migrating back to her lips. He groans out lightly as he attempts to sink a second finger again, this time proving more successful as her pussy flutters open for him. He curls his fingers against her front wall while his thumb continues rolling against her clit, a motion that she’s never able to recreate when she’s trying to do it herself. Any form of pleasure has been ruined for her if it’s not coming from Harry’s hands, or his mouth, or his cock… he’s set the bar too high. 
Their mouths just hang open together, panting into each other’s mouths as Harry’s fingers work her towards her end, their tongues touching and lips puckering every once in a while as they attempt a really messy kiss. 
There’s a ringing in her ears as her heart starts to pound faster in her chest, Harry’s fingers setting a rhythm that sends jolts up her spine. She falls into his chest, fingers digging into his suit and her face burying in his neck as she tries to catch her breath.
“Doesn’t it feel nice when Daddy takes care of you?” Harry murmurs in her ear. The wine in his system and his love for y/n have got him going heavy on the words… but she obviously loves it. 
“So good,” she whimpers into his throat.
“Y’like my fingers in your little pussy, hm? Like it when I rub your pretty clit like this?” 
She whines again, nodding her head but unable to formulate any words.
“Come on, puppy, use your words… tell daddy how much you love it.”
“Love you, daddy,” she says, fuzzy headed, just seconds away from her climax.
He chuckles warmly. That wasn’t what he asked for, but it’ll do. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. “Come on, cum for daddy. Let me hear you.” 
She moans loudly, fluttering round his fingers and rutting her hips as an orgasm takes over her body. With her head thrown back, she feels no shyness in whining out, as she cums, daddy falling from her lips desperately, which he swallows up in a kiss, soothing her through her peak. 
+++
The next morning, she surprisingly wakes up clear headed and well rested. With how wine drunk she was the night before, she’d expected to wake up with a pounding headache and her stomach turning uneasily. 
But then she remembers how Harry tucked her into bed the night before, how he’d taken her into the bathroom and brushed her teeth for her because she was too loose-limbed to do it herself. And then he’d slipped her out of her dress, kissed her shoulders gently as he dressed her in one of his big t-shirts, and given her a pair of clean panties to sleep in. He’d let her rest her head on his chest when they climbed in bed, and petted her hair while she whined about how much she loved him, chuckled sweetly when she started kissing his chest even though she was on the brink of sleep.
When she started to get fussy again, her pressed to his chest, “you’re the most precious thing in my life.”irt in an attempt to get him naked again in a haze of drunk horniness, he slipped his thumb into her mouth, let her suckle on his finger to distract her. He talked to her with a soft voice, murmured sweet words about how much he loved her. “Love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered as she fell asleep with her ear words muffled by his thumb.
“Love you,” she whispered back sleepily, her words muffled by his thumb.
When he thought she’d fallen asleep, he stopped petting at her hair and tried to get up to brush his own teeth – but she whined in her sleep at that, her legs wrapping around his thigh to keep him in bed and her eyebrows furrowing as though she was going to start crying in her sleep. He’d hushed her, resuming his previous position as though he hadn’t even tried to leave, and stayed like that, just watching her sleep, until her grip on him loosened and he was finally able to slip away silently. 
He returned as soon as he brushed his teeth and took off his expensive suit, now lying next to y/n with his lips pursed in a sleepy pout and his eyebrows furrowed. Even in his sleep, he looks grumpy… it makes y/n smile. She smooths her thumb over the wrinkle between his brows, and he evidently relaxes in his sleep. 
She presses a kiss to his cheek, thinking that she’s being sneaky and sneaking a kiss before he wakes up, but when she tries to pull away he grabs her wrist. “Another one,” he mumbles, eyes still closed.
She giggles, and presses a soft kiss to his other cheek. “Another,” he repeats, and she kisses his nose. “Another,” and she kisses his jaw. 
“Another–” he tries to say again, but she cuts him off. 
“Oh my gosh, Harry,” she laughs. “Just wake up already.” 
He smiles at the sound of her laugh, a sleepy smile that's soft enough so only one of his dimples pops out. His eyes flutter open, eyelashes like delicate little butterflies, and his green eyes meet hers. They look so clear and bright in the morning, a spring green that glimmers in the morning light. “Hi,” he says, staring up at her, “I love you.”
Her heart jumps at those three words, and she has to restrain herself from jumping out of the bed to have a total freak out over the fact that Harry loves her. Obviously she loves him – she has for a while. But she worried that she’d been nervous that Harry wouldn’t feel the same way. Maybe she was just this over-emotional little girl who fell in love way too quickly, and if she told him… he’d be grossed out or something and break up with her. 
If she were in her right mind, she never would’ve confessed that she loved him in such a vulnerable moment. She curses her drunk self for being so loose-lipped… but at least it ended in a happy way. Harry loved her back! 
And it’s the first thing he wants to tell her in the morning.
“I love you,” she whispers back bashfully. Harry can tell that the three words make her shy, and it only makes him love her even more. He pulls her into his chest for a bear hug, arms wrapping around her and completely engulfing her. 
He doesn’t want to let go of her, wants to hold her in his arms forever and just fall back asleep like this… but then her tummy rumbles. Her stomach is always making some type of noise, and even though it embarrasses her, he can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of his chest.
“Pancakes?” he asks.
She hums, “Mm, yeah. Can I make coffee with your fancy machine?”
“Only if you promise not to burn yourself.”
+++
lmk if u enjoyed! check out my patreon for early access to the next pleasingrry blurb! :)
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joyswonderland1108 · 1 year
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This is so fucking tiring.
Notice how my posts keep on being rants despite me trying to see the bright side of things? But the way this goddamn fandom treats both Jimin and Jungkook is absolutely disgusting (Again i’m not talking about the good ones out there, y’all know yourselves, kudos to you).
No wonder solos hate “OT7″ asses, i don’t condone any “solo’ness” but this fucking fandom gives them every right to hate their guts. Imagine loving a person so very dearly and a group of people who are supposed to treat that person with respect actually treats them like shit, how the fuck can you like these people or respect them. How do these oh so-called OT7s enjoy calling out solos when they can’t even call out themselves on some bullshit they pull out, learn to admit your own flaws before seeing other people’s flaws. 
Not only did people completely fail to see Jimin’s pov through his album, completely denied the symbolism in it, pulled lots of homophobic comments from their asses because they just can’t fucking accept that his album was queer-coded, wanted so bad to make “Like Crazy” a break up song when Jimin himself explained that it wasn’t inspired 100% by the damn movie’s story, ignoring completely that the boy made a whole album about his struggles and frustrations, something deep something that needed an open-mind and lots of understanding.
But now they’re completely ignoring the fact that “Seven” is a fucking single not just some images. Remember my post about Tiktok Army? Well they’re still at it. I keep on clicking on “not interested” but the way these videos are just so endless that they still pop up on my fyp.. Again i’m not linking any Tiktok i’ll post screenshots feel free if you want to consult the page but honestly i don’t want to give them clout
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It’s all about the MV, explicit version, JK was topless in the ONE picture that dropped, y’all thirsty motherfuckers can’t even bother be excited for the actual single, and this is not even the worse Tiktoks out there, everybody is more concerned about it being explicit and having a woman in the MV, they’re all like “Oh well he was topless in the schedule picture that dropped which means the MV will be sexy, JK will be naked, JK will be grinding on Sohee” MOTHER.FUCKERS! Do y’all even care about JK? 
For all i know y’all smartasses, Jimin’s concept photos had him topless too, or specifically naked under a blazer but he was NOT in “Like Crazy” and in “Set me free pt2″ he was because he had a whole ass poem written on his chest, now what? Are we going to pretend this never happened? I swear it’s sickening they’re not even allowing us to enjoy the build up until July 14th, i try to distract myself but it ends up being there on my face no matter what. 
And to answer @milan1013 on your reblog about the live
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There’s nothing wrong with the tiktok but the caption got me, because tell me why tf are people now shipping JK with Mingyu from a damn less than 2min Live knowing damn well these two are very dear friends. Again, i will say it again and again and FUCKING AGAIN!!!! JK is shipped with every living being, everything and everyone that breathes his way is shippable with JK that at some point do people even see him as a human being or.. ?
Sure it’s fun when it’s innocent all jokes ha ha but God fucking dammit the fact that out of an MV of a song that neither one of them even dropped, he’s already shipped with an actress and from a damn mini live he’s shipped with his friend now seriously where the fuck are we going, it’s becoming less and less fun each day to be in this fandom..
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kilowogcore · 3 months
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It Ain't About Gun Control
So let's talk guns an' the US Supreme Court, poozers!
On paper, the Supreme Court is a decent idea. Cuz the justices are appointed fer life, they don't gotta campaign, which oughta incentivize them to care only about justice. Cuz they're appointed by Congress, though, they're still tied to a democratic institution. Best of both worlds, right?
This week, the SCOTUS (Supreme Court of the United States fer ya' poozers that ain't political wonks) struck down the ban on bump stocks fer rifles. Now I ain't gonna talk about whether bump stocks should be banned, cuz the news is doin' that ad nauseam already, an' it entirely misses the point.
The point is there ain't no constitutional reason for it. They didn't argue about the Second Amendment. Essentially, they struck down the law just cuz they didn't like it.
That ain't what the SCOTUS is s'posed ta' do. The SCOTUS is s'posed ta' be a check on the power a' Congress an' the President, not a power unto itself. Justices are unelected an' serve life terms, so if they take legislative power unto themselves, democracy goes right out the window.
It's temptin' ta' think this is some kinda new low, an' I do think we oughta be worried, especially with Alito havin' come out an' flat-out said he's a political operative who don't think compromise with liberals is possible. The SCOTUS is key ta' fascist plans to destroy what shreds a' democracy we've got left in this country.
But make no mistake, the SCOTUS has been abusin' its authority fer over 150 years.
Ya' probably know about the infamous Dred Scott decision of 1857, but among leftists, this decision's often part a' the larger narrative about how the US wuz built on slavery. That's true, but I wanna zoom in an' point out that the Dred Scott decision was a clear case a' the court ignorin' existin' law, the constitution, an' the Founding Fathers (racist as they were), an' overturnin' a law just cuz they didn't like it. The two dissenters, Curtis an' McLean, both pointed this out.
There weren't no precedent anywhere ta' strip citizenship based on race. In fact, there wuz the opposite, as black people had been citizens in at least five a' the original states.
There's also a rule in the Supreme Court ta' make rulings as narrow as possible. The majority decided they had no jurisdiction, an' by the Court's rules, the decision shoulda ended there. Instead, the Court violated its rules and issued a sweepin' judgment strippin' citizenship an' the protection a law.
Ya' see this in almost all the Supreme Court's worst decisions. Plessy v Ferguson ignored the 14th amendment, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. pointed out that Lochner v New York was based on economic ideology and not legal principle, Buck v. Bell ignored the 14th amendment, the three dissenting justices in Korematsu v United States tore apart any legal basis for that horrific decision, and toward the modern era Bush v Gore and Citizens United v FEC both showed that the Court would ignore the law ta' push a political agenda.
I ain't defendin' the US Constitution. I'm sayin' that even the flawed checks 'n balances of the constitution are ignored by the Supreme Court, an' have been since the beginnin'.
This is yet another reason why we can't fix nothin' within the system. The SCOTUS won't let victories stand. So organize locally, outside the system, an' we can fix things!
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authenticitysports · 10 months
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Touch of Icarus
It's now just about four weeks after the marathon. I gave myself a good solid down period afterward, both to recover and to process. The race itself was disappointing, but also unsurprising. I knew I would be OK for 16-17 miles, and that anything afterward would be an adventure. True to form, the first 16 miles went great, I and I slowly came unglued between 17-20, before crashing hard from 21-24.
Race day was warm, and I was grateful for it at the start, but it probably hurt me during the run itself. I sweat a lot, so if it's too hot, I struggle to replenish the fluids and electrolytes. It was still much better than shivering at the start, so I was happy.
The first few miles were uneventful, except for the fact that the 3 hour pace group seemed to blast off up the road a solid 10 sec per mile ahead of schedule. My heart rate was alarmingly high for this early in the race, so I backed off, but I found myself staying right on pace for my goal of 3 hours.
At about 4 miles, my heart rate did not come down substantially, so I had to choose between pressing on or backing waaaay off. I really only did this race to try and give myself a shot at a BQ, so backing off never really seemed like an option. I knew what I could be in for, but decided to go for it anyway.
I know that I am in shape when I can instinctively feel a pace. My best sense is on the track, during intervals, and I can gauge the laps down to the second. On the roads, it's a natural rhythm that lets me feel the pace without knowing the pace. In this case, I felt that the three hour group was way too fast, and I let them get well up the road. Despite this, I came through half way in 1:30:00, on the dot. It was comically precise. I was definitely tired, but I might have a shot at this thing.
I made a quick restroom stop, got back running again quickly, and hit the next mile in 6:53, right back on pace. The stop was prudent, and I tried to ignore that I was starting to tire. The first time I really felt like I was "off pace" wasn't until mile 17 (7:01). It wasn't slow, but my heart rate had started to climb higher and the nine miles to the finish seemed very daunting.
I slowed gradually from 18-21, shuffling across the 14th Street Bridge. When I finally got down into Crystal City, though, that's when the fatigue and cramping really hit. I had overextended and was paying back for the effort. I walked a stoplight, then ran, then doubled over again as my hamstrings seized up. It was no longer about racing, just finishing. I got enough fluids down to shuffle the last two miles, staggering up the hill to the Marine Corps Memorial.
Stepping back, the race was certainly not what I wanted. I hoped to get a BQ and use the race as a springboard to another level of fitness and a return to racing. I knew, though, that the first goal was always going to be extremely ambitious, and that a six week marathon build was only a half or third of what I wanted.
But I am relieved to find that my body (still) responds to structured training, and that I was able to build fitness relatively quickly. The opening half of 1:30 would have been a challenge to me as a solo race in mid-July. I'm satisfied with the process, even if I'm not satisfied with the result, and so I am excited to get back to training in earnest.
I have at least one race next year picked out - the USAT Nationals in Atlantic City. I want to add in a couple of 5Ks, 10Ks, and maybe a few half marathons to keep that rhythm of racing. I would be interested in a spring marathon, but I'm not sure when or where. Kona is peaking over the horizon, but I can't commit the training volume for a full Ironman right now.
It's time for thinking, planning, dreaming, and training. Soon, there will be racing.
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bluejayblueskies · 3 years
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Please say more abt how Martin fits the closed off trait I'm begging 👁👁
Okay, so I got a bit carried away with this and it got quite lengthy....
I've put a TLDR above the cut and the details, transcripts, and general discussion below the cut!
.
TLDR: Martin is at his core a closed-off character who keeps his vulnerable feelings hidden and close to his chest. He instead focuses on caring for others and considering their feelings above his own, particularly in the case of Jon, who he cares for (sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice) throughout the podcast. His arc with the Lonely in season four and his interactions with Jon in season five demonstrate this lack of emotional vulnerability, and it's really only during the moments he spends by himself that we get significant insight into Martin's emotional state and inner thoughts.
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Martin, to me, is a character who is very used to hiding how he feels. He tends to care for others at the expense of himself, has low self-esteem, and has a predilection towards the Lonely, all of which go hand-in-hand with somebody who is very used to hiding their emotions--particularly the negative ones--because they either think they're not important or that they're inconvenient and inappropriate for the situation. On a textual level, that's probably due to growing up with a sick (and likely unsupportive) mother who he had to take care of, where there was 'no time' for his emotions to get in the way or for him to prioritize himself in any way, shape, or form.
Martin is self-destructive, dislikes moments of emotional vulnerability, and (I would argue) genuinely struggles when he doesn't have somebody else to prioritize over himself. (His mother at first, but as the series goes on, Jon settles comfortably into this role for him.) Additionally, the biggest way that we, the audience, know anything about Martin's emotional state is when he's alone and self-reflecting (such as in MAG 170 and 186 or when talking to the tapes) or when he's forced to talk about something vulnerable (such as when Jon confronted him about his CV).
We don't get much insight into Martin's character between seasons one and three (at least not as much as we get in four and five), but I find myself drawn to this bit in MAG 118, when Martin is talking to Elias:
MARTIN
So what? I don’t get to be angry? I don’t get to burn things? Just, just run around, making tea, while everyone else gets to actually have feelings?
I think two things are important to note here. The first is that Elias is surprised (or least intrigued) that Martin is acting in this way--specifically, acting on his emotions in such a dramatic way. (And given that Martin is doing this as a distraction, rather than actually acting out because of his own emotions, maybe he's right to be surprised.) The second is that this line very much implies that Martin doesn't talk about how he's feeling, not like 'everyone else' does. He doesn't talk about it, doesn't act on it--just 'runs around, making tea.' And when Melanie comes back in after Elias is done, Martin immediately focuses on the plan and whether it succeeded, ignoring Melanie when she asks if he's okay or not. He closes himself off, and as far as we know, doesn't talk about it at all after that.
And then Jon goes into his coma, and we reach season four.
Martin is incredibly closed-off during season four. He's self-isolating, self-sacrificial, and approaching a state of genuine emotional numbness by the time he's cast into the Lonely. There's a lot to unpack there, but I'm going to focus on a few main things, many of which can be drawn from this bit in MAG 158:
MARTIN
It’s not him! It’s not anybody. It’s just me. Always has been. I…
When I first came to you, I thought I had lost everything. Jon was dead, my mother was dead, the job I had put everything into trapped me into spreading evil and I… I really didn’t care what happened to me. I told myself I was trying to protect the others, but… honestly we didn’t even like each other. Maybe I just thought joining up with you would be a good way to get killed.
And then… Jon came back, and… and suddenly I had a reason I had to keep your attention on me. Make you feel in control so you didn’t take it out on him. And if that meant drifting further away, so what? I’d already grieved for him. And if it meant now saving him, it was worth it.
When you started talking about the Extinction, though… you had me actually, then, for a while. But then – (laughs sardonically) then, you tried to make me the hero. Tried to sell me on the idea that I was the only one who could stop it. And that I’ve never sat right with me. I mean, I mean, look – look at me, I’m not exactly a – a chosen one. But by then I was in too deep. So I played along. Waited to see what your end game was, and here we are.
Funny. Looks like I was right the first time. It’s probably still a good way to get killed?
This monologue is a big insight into Martin's thought process during this season, and I'm mostly going to focus on two parts: the self-sacrifice and the prioritization of Jon.
Self-sacrifice
There's quite a bit of discussion about Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies, but less so about Martin's, both in this season and in season five. In my opinion, Jon's self-sacrificial tendencies originate from (among other things) survivor's guilt from his traumatic childhood experience with Mr. Spider, his increasing belief that he's less than human, and the fact that he prioritizes the lives of others over his own. Martin's self-sacrificial tendencies, while very similar, come from the fact that he thinks he only has worth if he can help and care for someone else and the fact that he doesn't think he's important enough to live. (For example, he says in MAG 158 that he's 'not exactly a chosen one' and says in MAG 198 that he's 'not important enough to kill.')
It's a subtle difference between these two things, and I would argue that while Jon's tendencies are more rooted in the 'help' (ie, 'I want to help other people and I will sacrifice myself to do it'), Martin's tendencies are more rooted in the 'hurt' (ie, 'I will sacrifice myself and other people will be helped in the process'). There is, of course, overlap, and it's not a black-and-white distinction between the two, but ultimately, I think Martin is so used to prioritizing others' emotions and needs above his own that when he's left mostly alone as he is at the end of season three, with the only person left to hold onto being in a coma (possibly forever), he falls back into the same patterns of self-destruction and closed-offness, only without the 'help' to go along with the 'hurt' because there is nobody left to help (especially after his mother dies). Ultimately, he joins up with Peter because he thinks it 'would be a good way to get killed.'
Prioritization of Jon
But then Jon wakes up from his coma, and now Martin has justification for his self-sacrifice again, because he can protect Jon by continuing to work with Peter!
... Maybe.
Jon isn't harmed by Peter during season four, sure, but he does climb into the coffin and visits Ny-Ålesund and is tracked down by Julia and Trevor and struggles emotionally and morally with his own humanity and is hurt, in a way, by the distance Martin puts between them. And I hesitate to place blame for the apocalypse on anybody but Jonah, but if we're going to argue in-canon that Jon was responsible for the apocalypse (he wasn't, but that's not the point of this post), then Martin contributed to that blame and responsibility because it was his actions and decisions that ultimately drew Jon into the Lonely and resulted in him getting the 14th and final mark. (Again, I don't think Jon or Martin are at fault for the apocalypse, but if we were to blame Jon, we could blame Martin as well.) It was only after getting that mark that Jonah was able to use Jon to end the world, something that was hugely hurtful for Jon. So did Martin really protect Jon at all by staying away from him and continuing to work with Peter? Or was that just a convenient excuse to keep self-destructing?
Jon and Martin, in my opinion, had very similar arcs in season four. Martin was sinking further into the Lonely and Jon was sinking further into the Eye. We hear a lot more about Jon's emotional struggle with this given that he's the POV character, sure, but Jon also talks about this with other people. He talks about it to Helen (MAG 152):
JON
When does it stop?
HELEN
(impatient) What?
JON
The guilt. The misery. All the others I’ve met, they’ve been – cold, cruel. They’ve enjoyed what they do. When does the Eye (inhale) make me monstrous?
And to Daisy (MAG 136):
JON
My – (large sigh) My memories of the coma are not clear, but I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I – I don’t know if I made the right decision; I’m stronger now, tougher, I can – (he cuts himself off) If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever? I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else, so if I can maybe – stop that happening, and the only danger is to me, I – I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario, the universe loses another monster.
But all we really get from Martin are the things he tells the tapes when he's alone and the monologue he gives in MAG 158. It makes sense that he wouldn't be as open, yes, given the nature of the Lonely, but I can't help but think of (MAG 154):
JON
The Lonely’s really got you, hasn’t it?
MARTIN
(no hesitation) You know, I think it always did.
Jon was always curious and hungry for knowledge; the Eye amplified it. Martin was always closed-off and isolated; the Lonely amplified that as well.
But then Jon pulls Martin out of the Lonely, they flee to the safehouse, and three weeks later, the apocalypse begins. Martin isn't as consumed by the Lonely as he was in season four, he's with Jon--the person he loves--for extended periods of time, and they're in an extremely stressful situation that's sure to be incredibly emotionally charged. There's a lot to be said about Jon's emotional vulnerability during season five and how Martin both pressures him for it and rejects it in different ways, but for the purposes of this post, I won't go too far into detail about the motivations behind how Jon is feeling and acting.
I will say, however, that in season five, Martin still continues to place a lot of focus on asking Jon how he's feeling, encouraging (or pressuring) him to share, and getting frustrated when Jon can't or doesn't (MAG 167):
MARTIN
Okay, so how exactly would you describe your current emotional state regarding all of this?
JON
I –
MARTIN
(overlapping) Go on, I’m all ears.
JON
I feel…
MARTIN
(go on) Mhm.
JON
(sigh) I feel… sad.
[Brief pause.] MARTIN
(flat) Sad.
JON
Very sad.
MARTIN
(*very* flat) Very sad.
[He sighs slightly as he says it. Their bags jangle.]
A few moments prior to this, Martin expresses displeasure that Jon is Knowing things about him, specifically pointing out his emotions (MAG 167):
MARTIN
It’s just – it’s weird knowing that you can know literally everything I think and feel. E-Especially since you’re not exactly the most open of people – emotionally, I mean.
I think Martin is making an effort to open up more to Jon. But I still think it's difficult for him to talk about how he feels so openly, and while he is completely in the right for not wanting Jon to Know things about him without his permission, I think it's interesting that the focus is on his feelings and that he brings up how Jon isn't emotionally open immediately after. It scares Martin to think that Jon could know, at any given moment, how he's feeling, and I think it's partially because he's not used to that level of vulnerability. He turns the focus on Jon, away from himself, and doesn't really make an effort to talk about how he's feeling about all of this, instead prioritizing Jon's feelings and mental state like he's grown comfortable with.
And when Martin bottles up his emotions--of which there are a lot, in such a stressful environment, they can explode out in hurtful ways:
MARTIN
(overlapping) I know! I know, okay, I just – (bracing exhale) Look, I j,just – don’t want to get burned, all right? It’s, it’s like my least favorite pain ever.
JON
Is that – a joke?
MARTIN
(a bit faster, a bit shaky) No, no, okay? I, I legitimately hate burns, alright? They’re, they’re awful, and they scar horribly, and they just – it – it just makes me sick; I, I hate it. Hate it!
I don't think Martin really thought about what he was saying when he told Jon, who has a large burn scar on his hand, that burn scars make him sick, and I don't think he meant it maliciously. But he'd spent the greater portion of the conversation talking around the fact that he didn't like burns and that was why he didn't want to go into the building, and so when it finally ended up coming out, it did so in an explosion of emotion rather than a conscious decision to share. Martin doesn't have a good handle on his emotions, and he doesn't have a good handle on sharing them.
(Is it too much for me to say that Martin was more emotionally vulnerable with himself in MAG 170 than he was with Jon when Jon finally found him?)
Throughout season five, Martin asks Jon questions, he expresses frustrations with Jon, he shows discomfort or fear at times, but for as much as Martin feels frustrated that Jon isn't talking about how he feels about their situation, Martin really isn't doing so either. The most he talks about his feelings is in MAG 170 and MAG 186, when he's by himself, and I remember MAG 186 in particular because before that, we really didn't know what Martin was thinking about for the majority of the season! And in this episode, we find out a lot of very important things about Martin's character. Like (MAG 186):
ALSO MARTIN
Look, I know what you know. Maybe I’m just a bit more… open about it.
Also-Martin acknowledges that Martin often doesn't say what he means and hides what he really feels, telling him that it's 'hard to be vulnerable,' and Martin is initially very resistant to the idea. And then, when Also-Martin suggests that Martin wants to stay so that he can be 'quietly sad,' we get (MAG 186):
MARTIN
We could talk to Jon about it.
ALSO MARTIN
We could. But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting to actually help. But hey, we know all about that, am I right?
MARTIN
There’s nothing wrong with comforting people.
ALSO MARTIN
A cup of tea isn’t a resolution. At best it’s a… a plaster. At worst… a muzzle.
This is very interesting to me, because for all that Martin tries to help other people, he also believes that comfort doesn't always help and that you can't be your loved one's 'therapist.' I think this gives a lot of insight into why Martin doesn't share his emotions with the people he cares about, especially Jon; he doesn't want to put Jon in the position where he'll become his 'therapist,' and he doesn't necessarily think Jon can help. So instead, Martin just chooses not to be vulnerable at all, because he doesn't want to burden the people he cares about. But, when it's just him (MAG 186):
ALSO MARTIN
Don’t lie. You don’t need to. Not here. It’s just us.
He doesn't feel like he needs to pull his emotional punches. He can't accidentally hurt somebody or put them in an awkward position; it's just himself. But what's said to himself remains with himself, and (at least on tape), he doesn't discuss any of this with Jon. Not even the bit about, if it came down to it, Martin would have rather had Jon smite him than continue to rule over a domain. He goes right back to being closed-off around Jon, but now we, the audience, know what lies underneath, and how little of it reaches the surface.
In fact, the thing Martin's probably most vocal about is how Jon's feelings about himself bother him (MAG 199):
MARTIN
I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know? I try, but I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you.
And it… It hurts to know you can.
And I think he has a tendency to use anger and frustration to cover up hurt, shying away from the admission that something Jon's done has hurt him (an incredibly vulnerable thing) and instead relying on the less-vulnerable and more external anger to cover it. This is more speculation than true analysis, but I think that's a lot of what's happening in MAG 200, when he discovers that Jon has already assumed the position of the pupil and has, in Martin's eyes, broken his promise.
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TLDR: Martin is at his core a closed-off character who keeps his vulnerable feelings hidden and close to his chest. He instead focuses on caring for others and considering their feelings above his own, particularly in the case of Jon, who he cares for (sometimes to the point of self-sacrifice) throughout the podcast. His arc with the Lonely in season four and his interactions with Jon in season five demonstrate this lack of emotional vulnerability, and it's really only during the moments he spends by himself that we get significant insight into Martin's emotional state and inner thoughts.
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haik-choo · 4 years
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how the haikyuu boys confess to you (on valentines day)
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tsukishima:
For once, Tsukishima cares. He cares about your reaction, your words, your expression, your feelings (about him) -- just this once. It’s because of he pressure of your actions weighing down on his heart like an elephant on an orange that he plans. He made sure he got your favorite flowers, he has the specific type of desert that you like, he’s wearing the shirt he got when he thrifted with you for the first time -- the one that you said “makes him look really hot”-- and he’s at your door. He almost laughs at his reflection in windows of the shops he passed coming here, how pathetically in love he is, how hopelessly enraptured he is by you, a dork who bought him a mug with your face printed on it (”so you can see me every morning in college when you’re grumpy and won’t admit you miss me”). He rings the doorbell and knocks softly, hesitant, at the door. He hears a response come from inside the house and rapid foot steps approaching: He looks up while he’s waiting, pondering about if he’s really going to do this. He could always throw the bouquet of fragrant flowers and sweets down the railing and pretend he was bored and wanted to hang out; but when you fling open the door in your heart-pajamas, hair frizzy and sticking out everywhere, your face slack in shock at what he’s carrying, cheeks aflame and eyes glassy with a sheen of hope.... he decides it maybe isn’t such a bad idea to be so stupidly in love that he bought a bouquet the size of an elephants head.
“Do you wanna be my valentine, dumbass? If you say no this’ll be really fucking awkward. Please say yes.” 
atsumu:
He never planned on saying it. Hell, he never even wanted to hang out with you on valentines, afraid that the words he kept hidden within the trenches of his heart would surface, bubbling and tumbling clumsily out of his mouth. But your text at 9pm on february 14th ended with a little smiley face and he decided to throw his new year’s resolution of stopping hanging out with you everyday out the window. Your smile was too addicting. He knew what he was getting himself into: it was late at night and you were both laughing down the empty streets, the moon hidden and instead a sky freckled with stars hung above. It was too perfect. You were too perfect. All it took was a dumb joke (on his behalf) and your dumb, squawk-like laughter to cause his heart to freeze. He’d never experienced this feeling before, the feeling of his eyes catching onto one image, the image of your face contorted with happiness, his whole body stopping, arms loose by his side, pupils dilated so wide. The words never would have left his lips had he not been drunk on your laugh, for his sober conscious was much too afraid of the possibility of rejection, the fear that your eyes would flit uncomfortably to the side with stuttered words of a pathetic-apology filling the air, his ears, and his heart. But god, his stupid one-track-mind brain couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. He was too far gone, lost in you, that his stupid mouth just couldn’t keep still. 
“I love you, so much.”
sakusa: 
The countertops are littered with bowls of icing and leftover batter, to which sakusa scrunches his nose at. He forces you to clean them, and “clean them properly” while he finishes preparing the cookies to go into the oven. Sakusa feels content despite your loud voice and strange taste in music: for a long while he wondered why your presence both simultaneously calmed him down while sending his heart into a frenzy, but now he knows it’s because he’s caught in the web your love. He doesn’t really mind, honestly, in fact, it makes his heart warm and full. The amount of time he spends with you is shocking, and he does things with you that he does with no one else -- he thought his feelings were more than obvious. But when you glance at his cookie-shaping from your spot at the sink and laugh, saying “Sakusa! you’re really good at baking! your future lover is gonna be so happy” Sakusa can’t help but let his movements stop and eyes stare at you in disbelief. He doesn’t even bother to verbally reply, instead opting to reach over and flick your forehead and go back to putting the cookies in the oven. Your whine doesn’t go unnoticed (”what was that for?!”) but it goes unanswered. After the dishes are washed, and the cookies are living their last few moments in warmth, you and Sakusa lean against the counter, staring at the timer tick closer to 0:00. Out of the blue, your voice softly finds its way to his ears, “I’m so happy. I know you’re picky at who you let into your apartment -- i still don’t know why you let me in -- but, really, I’m so happy. Thanks for tolerating me!” Sakusa just stares. At your face, the curve of your eyelashes, the batter in your hair, the sad smile playing your lips -- and the words flow out effortlessly. Your head whips over to him, and he laughs. “You’re so hopeless, you know that?” and with that, the timer beeps.
“You know it’s you I’m in love with, right? Why else would I let you make a mess in my kitchen?”
sugawara:
He had made up his mind. It was a week before the day of love, and Sugawara had made up his mind. No longer could he pretend that what he was feeling was just friendship, no longer could he hide how he truly, genuinely felt. It makes him laugh, thinking about how he thought he could ignore his feelings and that ,miraculously, one day, they’d disappear into thin air. But now he’s at the rooftop on the school, a pink letter gripped tightly by his clammy hands, and he’s ready. Ready for your rejection, for your acceptance, for your tears, for anything. When he made up his mind a week ago about confessing, he’d also accepted all the possible outcomes. If loving you -- and telling you that he loved you -- meant that everything you two had would crumble right before his very eyes, then so be it. He couldn’t hold his heart back anymore. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day he spent wishing that you were his, and he was yours. Love was messy. Love could hurt. But the worst outcome of love is when you keep silent. Plus, if you shared his feelings, then he might just be the happiest man alive. So, when the heavy metal door of the rooftop opens, exposing your confused expression, and when the wind suddenly starts back up, flipping your hair all around like a dramatic scene from a romance film, Sugawara has his mind made up. Determinedly, swiftly, he stands up. His eyes are glazed with passion and confidence. Calmly, he sticks his hand out, the pink letter with drawn-on hearts and cursive handwriting filling the envelope. When you gently take the letter from him, realizing what this all means, and look back up at him, face flushed, his mouth opens. Sugawara had made up his mind.
“I can’t hide it anymore. I'm so in love with you, I think my heart might explode -- will you accept my feelings?” 
bokuto: 
Bokuto won’t lie -- it took him a while to understand what he was feeling was not normal. ‘Normal’ for friends is spending time together, laughing together, going over to one another’s house and drinking until late. It’s hugging each other sometimes (or a lot, if you’re Kuroo), it’s hoping you always have them by your side. But what he feels for you? it took Akaashi smacking him upside the head and explaining to him what his feelings meant for Bokuto to realize. What he felt for you, was not friendship. He wanted to wake up next to you, he wanted to be the only one who you went out on ‘friend-dates’ with, he wanted to feel your lips on his shoulder, cheeks, lips. He wanted to see you at the other end of an aisle someday, but he didn’t want to be the guest at the wedding. He wanted to protect you, even though you didn’t need protecting; he wanted to hold you, to  indulge in your warmth, to be the only one you held in his arms. He wanted to be buried next to you. “You’re in love with her, you dense idiot. God -- that’s not normal. I mean, do you want to kiss my cheek, be buried next to me?” Akaashi sighed out, Bokuto shook his head, no. “But you want to kiss them? Watch them grow old?” Bokuto shook his head, yes, but slowly. “Well, there’s your answer. Bokuto, you love them.” And that’s when everything clicked. That’s when the lightbulb flickered on, when his eyes widened. God, how dumb was he? And he’s letting you spend Valentine’s day alone? Without thinking, his hand reached for his phone, tapped on your contact (you were on speed-dial), and waited for your voice to ring through the speaker. “Yeah, what’s up, Ko?” He blurted out his words, almost insensitively, not realizing their true weight. The truth made his body feel light, and he couldn’t stop the bubbles of laughter that erupted from his throat -- he felt so stupid. How could he not have figured it out sooner? He didn’t even wait for your response before he started talking again (Akaashi nearly slammed his head on the table), which caused a small smile to break out on your face. Bokuto was so, so stupid. 
“I just realized i love you. Like, really, really, love you. Hold up -- is there a place we can meet up so I can tell you this face-to-face? Wait, where are you? I’ll meet you there! Oh, happy Valentine’s day, by the way!” 
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raibebe · 4 years
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Genre: Fluff Words: 6.879 Prompt: best friend Yangyang x female reader + “Stop hogging all the blankets!” Warnings: MC is an oblivious idiot, Yangyang is a sweetheart, mentions of injury
A/N: What do you mean Valentine’s Day was on the 14th and not on the 24th? Seems fake. AnYwAys: This was written for the Candy hearts collab hosted by @127-mile. Thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write for my precious brezel baby. Thank you @ncteaxhoe for the lovely header after I went almost crazy...
Taglist: @byunniebaekhyunnie​
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“You’re going on vacation with Yangyang?” “Yes.” “Your best friend?” “Yes.” “To an abandoned cabin in the woods.” “First it’s not abandoned, just very far out and second I don’t see where you’re going with this.” “Well are you?” You sighed loudly, rolling your eyes at Donghyuck who was sat in front of you in the library where you had met to have a little study session before you were leaving for the weekend. “Yes I am.” “On Valentine’s Day.” “It’s just because it’s on a weekend and it was cheap.” “You do see where I am going with this, right?” “I am not Donghyuck,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re literally the most stupid person I have ever met and I am friends with a bunch of idiots,” your friend whined, throwing the straw wrapper from his iced americano at you. “Hyuck what’s your problem? We’re literally just both stressed out from classes already and he found that offer that’s within both of our budgets. Nothing wrong about two friends chilling in a secluded cabin.” “Have you seen the freaking cabin?” Donghyuck whisper screamed, earning him a hiss from one of the students sitting on the table next to you. “I have, Hyuck.” “Then you might have missed the fact that this cabin coincidentally has a hot tub but only one bedroom?” He went on, waving his phone in front of your face where he had pulled up the website advertising the cabin. Groaning, you faceplanted into the books that were scattered around you. “Do you see what I mean now?” Donghyuck hissed, scrolling through the pictures on the website. “Hyuck listen. Yangyang and I are both kind of short on cash so the bigger cabins just weren’t going to make it if we wanted that hot tub. So we agreed that we could sleep in the same bed for a couple of nights, no big deal. Pretty sure you’ve done that with Mark, Jaemin and Jeno as well when you four went on spring break vacation.” “Don’t distract from the topic, that was entirely different,” Donghyuck mused but the slight blush covering his cheeks was betraying him. “Is it though?” You asked, a shit eating grin on your face. “When did this conversation turn into you commenting on my poor live choices?”
“Discussing Hyuck’s poor live choices? My favorite part time activity,” another voice joined into your conversation and Renjun plopped down next to his friend on the bench. “Can you smell my misery or something?” Donghyuck groaned, slumping back into his seat, dramatically staring at the high ceiling. “I wish I could,” the Chinese laughed, loudly slurping his iced drink of choice despite the chilly weather outside while completely ignoring the glares some of the students were shooting him, “No, I was supposed to meet Yangyang to give him my car keys but you’ll do.” With that he threw his keys onto the table. “It’s parked by the student center, should fit all of your stuff.” “Thank you Renjun,” you smiled, pocketing his keys. “There is a chance though that I am out of gas,” he grinned. “I knew there would be a catch,” the familiar voice of your best friend groaned before he plopped down next to you, loudly dropping his backpack onto the floor which again had people to glare at your little group. “I swear to god you’re going to get us kicked out,” Hyuck hissed, throwing Yangyang and Renjun disappointed glares. “Not like you were studying anyways,” Renjun rolled his eyes. “What were you doing?” Yangyang asked, flipping through the pages of one of your books. “Well I was trying to get a head start on my essay,” you groaned, “But Hyuck had other plans.”
“Exactly. Which brings me back to my point,” Donghyuck grinned, turning towards Yangyang, “Yang, so did you, by any chance notice that the cabin you’re staying at this weekend with your best friend on freaking Valentine’s Day conveniently only has one bed but features a hot tub?” “Oooooh,” Renjun mused, leaning forward into his elbows. “Well... We were short on money but wanted a hot tub?” Yangyang slowly answered, blushing under the intense gazes of both of his friends. “See Hyuck it’s exactly what I told you,” you groaned, “No big deal.” “Sure, just two friends sitting in a hot tub, five feet apart because they’re not in love,” Renjun sang. “The original sounds better,” Donhyuck said flatly. “Yeah but the both of them are disgustingly straight,” Renjun shrugged. “You make that sound like an insult,” Yangyang snorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Anyways!” Donghyuck interrupted a little too loud, causing one of the students working in the library to actually walk over to your table to ask you to leave.
“Well great,” you groaned when you snuggled into your thick winter jacket once you were outside while Renjun and Yangyang couldn’t hold in their laughter anymore. “You guys are the worst,” you said and rolled your eyes even though you couldn’t stop the smile on your face from spreading. “You love us,” Donghyuck laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder, “We weren’t gonna get anything done anyways.” “And we still need to pack,” Yangyang added, “Also I still need the keys to the car.” “Catch,” you called and quickly threw the keys over to your best friend that Renjun had given you earlier, laughing as he struggled to catch them. “Treat her gently,” Renjun laughed, “Oh and she needs gas.” “Why did I expect anything else,” Yangyang groaned but pocketed the keys, “I’ll pick you up after your morning classes?” “Sure,” you smiled. “You’re leaving me alone in our literature class?” Donghyuck gasped, dramatically holding his heart. “Listen, it’s either listening to professor Quian all afternoon or drive to the cabin early, Hyuck. What would you do?” You giggled. “Fair,” he shrugged, “But I still feel betrayed.” “Yesterday you felt betrayed by that pizza place because you found one stray piece of pineapple on your pizza,” Renjun helpfully added. “That was an attack on my health,” he hissed, pointing his finger at his friend and roommate, “Pineapples do not belong on pizza.” “I am not having this discussion again,” you groaned and slipped out of Donghyuck’s grip, “I gotta pack my stuff.” “Yeah, have fun on your totally not couple’s vacation,” Renjun laughed. “It’s not a couple’s vacation,” you and Yangyang immediately shouted, giggling at each other afterwards. “You’re all disgusting, I am leaving,” Donghyuck declared, dragging Renjun with him in the direction of their dorm.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled at Yangyang. “Yeah, I’ll pick up Renjun’s car and get all the stuff inside. Be at your dorm at like 12.” “Sure, I’m really looking forward to this.” “Yeah, me too,” Yangyang said softly, a soft blush on his cheeks that must have been from the cold air. He quickly wrapped you up in a hug before waving goodbye to head over to the student’s center. Sighing you turned in the opposite direction to your own shoebox of a dorm room, skidding along excitedly. You really were looking forward to this vacation with your best friend.
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The next day found you buzzing with excitement, quickly throwing the last things that had been missing into your bag before speeding to your morning classes that went by in a blur. In what felt like no time at all, you were rushing down the steps of your dorm to throw yourself into Renjun’s car and your arms around your best friend’s neck to squeeze him in a tight hug. “I’m so excited,” you squeaked once you let him go to heave in a couple of breaths. “I can tell,” Yangyang laughed, handing you his phone that was already connected to the AUX cord, “I spend two hours yesterday to make the perfect road trip playlist, so you better appreciate that.” “This better not suck,” you laughed as he started the car to start your journey.
The way up to the mountains found you and Yangyang singing along to his actually good playlist that included some of your favorite songs, your singing getting progressively worse and louder the higher up you got and the more snow was falling. After you had gotten lost just once or twice on the way to pick up the keys from a lady at the reception who handed you a big basket with rose petals, champagne and what seemed like condoms and lube. Heat had immediately risen to both of your faces and you had stumbled over your words for the rest of the conversation, relieved when you could finally leave and head over back to your car to drive up to where your small cabin was.
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“This is so cozy,” you cooed once you had made it inside the cabin, dropping your bag right next to the door to race through the rooms that included a small but clean bathroom and small kitchen with the cutest old school curtains in front of the snowy windows and a door lead outside to where the hot tub was already steaming. The main room that you had come into had a small two-seater couch with a bunch of cozy blankets thrown over it standing in front of a little fireplace that both you and Yangyang were kind of scared to light but you had to eventually because that was all the heat you were going to get. “The bed is huge,” Yangyang exclaimed and the next thing you heard was a loud thump as he had faceplanted right into the mattress, currently starfishing out, his fingertips not reaching the ends of the bed. “But we only have one blanket,” you laughed, flipping up through the layers your best friend was laying on top. “Wait for real?” He asked, eyes wide and scrambling to take a look for himself. “I hope you like cuddling,” you giggled, tackling your best friend onto the bed who just screeched before he tried to get the upper hand in the tickle fight that had broken out.
“Okay, okay, I surrender,” you laughed with tears in your eyes and lifted your arms in defeat when he had you pinned beneath you, his fingers tickling your sides until you couldn’t breathe anymore. “You’re admitting defeat?” Yangyang laughed, all his teeth showing with how bright he was smiling, digging his fingers between your ribs one last time before he fell to the mattress next to you, you both panting heavily between giggles. When you turned your head to look at your best friend, he was already looking right back at you, something unreadable in his expression. For a while you just stared into each other’s eyes, the occasional noise of the wood of the cabin creaking the only sound you could hear. Had Yangyang’s eyes always sparkled like that in the low light? Or was it just more apparent now that he had dyed his hair back to his natural dark brown? You found your hand itching to push his too long bangs from his eyes so you could see them properly, captivated by how the edges crinkled up with how he was softly smiling.
The serene silence was very rudely interrupted by Yangyang’s stomach growling loudly which caused both of you to burst out into another fit of giggles. “I think that’s out cue to put the pizzas in the oven and to unpack,” you laughed, slapping your best friend’s shoulder when he made no move to get up, instead wrapping himself up in the throw blanket. “You’re so annoying,” you groaned and climbed off of the bed. “You love me,” he argued, sticking out his tongue at you. For some reason the easy answer of ‘Yes, I do’ got stuck in your throat and you just hummed before walking over to where you had unceremoniously dropped your bags by the door to get the half frozen pizzas and turned on the oven. What was wrong with you all of a sudden? You two always bickered like that. Screw Donghyuck for getting all up in your head before this trip. Nothing had changed. It was just you and your best friend spending a weekend together. Nothing unusual. That’s what friends did. It’s what Donghyuck did with his friends.
Staring blankly into the oven once you had put the pizzas in, you were lost in your thoughts that twisted and turned inside your head but didn’t seem to make any sense at all. “Are you mad at me?” Yangyang spoke and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to let out a high pitched screech from how surprised you were. “Don’t scare me like that,” you scolded him, trying to calm down your furiously beating heart. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hooking his head over your shoulder to look into the oven as well, just wordlessly holding you close. “I’m not mad,” you eventually said, letting the tension seep from your muscles and melting into his hold. Smiling you let your weight sag against him, knowing he would have the strength to hold you up. “Sleepy?” You just hummed nonchalantly even though you weren’t particularly tired but somehow your body felt exhausted. “The drive took longer than expected,” Yangyang agreed, “Let’s just eat and then try to get the fire going. I brought my laptop and downloaded all the episodes of our next season.” “You’re an angel,” you giggled, “I didn’t even think about that.” “I’m not,” he mumbled, hiding his face in your neck. “My angel,” you laughed, squirming in his grip to turn around and pinch his sensitive sides. What you hadn’t expected was him not backing off, so you found yourself pinned between his body and the oven, your faces dangerously close together. For a second or two you just stayed like that before Yangyang’s brain seemed to realize just how close you were, causing heat to rise to his cheeks and him nervously spluttering about how he’d set the table and unpack everything. Something was definitely off between you two but you chose to put it aside for now, not quiet daring to think about it.
Once you both had two steaming plates of pizza in front of you, everything seemed to be back to normal and conversation flew easily just how it always did between the two of you. You would complain about being swarmed with essays and Yangyang would complain about his two roommates who couldn’t be more different from each other which made for a lot of potential for arguments or about how his mother would continuously call him every week to bog him about how school was going, if he was taking his vitamins, if he was still practicing playing his violin, if he had found a girlfriend yet or if he had finally given up on his stupid dancing classes. You were always quick to tell him that he should not feel pressured to drop his dancing to take violin lessons again if he wasn’t passionate about it anymore, no matter how much his mom would nag him about it. You knew that he loved dancing way too much and had made so many good friends in his dance crew to just give it up. So just like every time you gently took his hand in yours to squeeze it reassuringly when you promised him he could live with you if his mother decided to disown him over this. But this time he didn’t let your hand go once he moved on to tell a story on how his roommates had started arguing in the middle of the night because one of them had started to eat snacks which had woken the other one up, this thumb mindlessly caressing the back of your hand.
“Do you really trust me with the fire?” Yangyang asked with a frown on his face as he read through the instructions that were hung up next to the fireplace. “I don’t,” you laughed from where you were washing the dishes in the kitchen, “But if they leave it for us to light, it can’t be too dangerous or difficult.” “I appreciate this incredible amount of confidence you have in me,” your best friend snorted before getting to work to pile up wood and paper and carefully lighting the latter. “I made fire!” He exclaimed excitedly, a bright grin on his lips which immediately made you smile as well. “Now just don’t let it go out,” you smiled, “I’ll go change into comfy clothes real quick.” Yangyang just hummed, carefully adding more wood to his fire so it wouldn’t go out again.
“Yo, I think I got the hang of it,” he announced once you came back to the warmed up living room with snacks and clad in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. “Is that my hoodie?” Yanyang asked when you sat down the bags next to his laptop where he had already pulled up the first episode. “Not a chance,” you replied and plopped down onto the couch to snuggle into the hoodie you definitely hadn’t stolen from your best friend. “It seems oddly familiar though,” he mused but sat down next to you anyways, your thighs touching because the sofa wasn’t particularly big. “I’ve had it for a while,” you grinned innocently, throwing one of the blankets over your legs to keep them warm. “Sure,” Yangyang laughed and threw up the large hood before pressing play on the first episode.
Throughout the episodes you seemed to gravitate towards Yangyang more and more the later it got: First only leaning your head on his shoulder, then he wrapped an arm around you to pull you even closer, followed by you pulling your legs up on the sofa, leaning even further into him until you were basically lying on his chest until it became too uncomfortable and you two shuffled around until he had both of his legs outstretched on the sofa with you sat in between them: your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you. “I could fall asleep like this,” you mumbled when you felt your lids getting heavy, the soft melody of the outro lulling you in. “Don’t though, we’ll be sore tomorrow,” Yangyang laughed, poking your cheek. “Is this your only concern?” “We’ve cuddled like this before,” he just shrugged it off. You just hummed and cuddled closer to his heartbeat, fully closing your eyes. “Yah. Don’t fall asleep on me like that,” your best friend protested, “There is a perfectly fine bed waiting with plenty of space.” “Not my problem your body is like 80 percent stupidly lanky legs.” “Come on, get up.” “But the bed is going to be all cold and it’s nice and warm in here,” you argued. “It’s not going to warm up if you keep clinging to me like that,” Yangyang giggled. “I’m not clinging,” you pouted. “Pretty sure you are,” he laughed, finger flicking your forehead, “Come on, lazy. Let’s get ready for bed.”
Grumbling, you agreed and followed your best friend into the small bathroom with the blanket still wrapped around your body where you two quickly washed up. You had been right, the air in the bedroom was icy to say the least. “We’re going to freeze to death and no one will ever find us, Yangyang,” you groaned dramatically. “They literally have to clean up before the next guests come here, so our corpses would be here for a week tops.” “You’re so good at this reassuring thing,” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help to smile. “I know,” he grinned, “Turn around.” “What for?” “I’m changing,” he simply stated, already unbuckling his belt. “Oooh.” With burning cheeks, you quickly turned around, clutching the blanket tightly in your hands. In quick succession you heard first his belt and then his pants and shirt hit the floor before he rummaged through his bag and stepped into new clothes. “Done,” he announced and immediately jumped onto the bed to shuffle beneath the layers of blankets. Still feeling shy you carefully dropped the blanket from the living room and crawled into bed as well, leaving a respectable distance to your best friend which was fairly easy with how big the bed was.
“If you’re going to hog all the blankets, I will scream,” Yangyang spoke into the sudden silence that had draped over you. “I bet you’re the blanket hogger,” you snorted and playfully tugged at the blankets to roll them tightly around you. “I swear to god,” your best friend groaned, his feet kicking the mattress in frustration, “I won one tickle fight and I will win again.” Giggling, you let go of your grip so Yangyang could easily pull the blankets back. “Good night, Yangyang,” you whispered. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered back and you could hear him twist and turn for a couple of moments before he found a comfortable spot to sleep in. Smiling you also settled in, pulling the blankets tight around you to not let the cold of the room seep into your cocoon. While thinking of what you would do tomorrow, you slowly drifted off to sleep.
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The next morning the unforgiving light of the sun reflected by the snow outside tickled your nose to slowly wake you up from your dreamless sleep but you really weren’t ready to let go of the comfort that a good night’s sleep had given you. It was just too cozy beneath the layers of blankets, the warmth of another person seeping into your bones while outside the cocoon it was cold. Wait. Warmth of another person? That had you wake up way faster than you would have liked, your own body going rigid in the hold Yangyang had on you. “Finally woke up?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual and raspy from sleep. “Y... Yeah,” you hummed, scared to turn around to look at your best friend. “Why are we cuddling?” “Because someone wouldn’t stop hogging all the blankets, leaving me out in the cold to sleep,” Yangyang said matter-of-factly, his breath hitting your neck. Looking around you, you couldn’t help but chuckle, you really had balled up so much of the blanket on your side of the bed in your sleep that part of it had dropped to the floor on your side. “You laugh but I was freezing my ass off half the night,” your best friend nagged. “I’ll make it up to you with breakfast?” “Omelets?” “You’re going to help cutting veggies?” “Nope,” Yangyang said, popping the p-sound out loud. “You’re terrible.” “You left me to freeze!” “Fine,” you groaned and wiggled yourself free from his grip, leaving the warmth of his embrace and the blankets, “But you’re doing the dishes after.” “Sure.”
For the first time today, you turned around to look at Yangyang and you really weren’t prepared for his tousled hair and lazy smile. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest before it made a couple of summersaults. “Morning,” he grinned, burying himself back into the blankets. “Yeah... Good morning...” “Take your time, I’ll shower in a bit,” Yangyang yawned and you couldn’t hold back your own which in turn made him laugh. “Don’t take too long, lazy,” you smiled before quickly freshening up in the bathroom and starting to prepare the breakfast you hast promised.
Somewhere between filling two pans with the eggs and adding the cut up vegetables, your best friend joined you in the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower and your heart yet again did acrobatics in your chest. What was wrong with you? This was just Yangyang. Your best friend. You had slept in the same room countless of times. You had made him breakfast even more times because he was not to be trusted in the kitchen. So why was your heart all jumpy around him now? Had Donghyuck been right? But nothing between Yangyang and you had changed. You always cuddled up together when you binge watched shows together or had movie nights with your other friends.
“What’s up with you today?” Yangyang asked once you had slid the omelets on two plates and put down a steaming mug of coffee for each of you. “Nothing,” you quickly tried to reassure him but the way he raised up one of his brows was sign enough that he didn’t believe you. “It’s really nothing,” you tried again, forcing a smile onto your face that really wasn’t all that hard to maintain when looking at Yangyang, “I was just thinking about where we should go for our walk.” Your friend just hummed around a mouthful of eggs and pulled out his phone. “I looked something up,” he slurred before swallowing down what he had been chewing, “If we follow this trail, it will take us around the lake which should be frozen and eventually to a little town. If the ice is solid enough, there’s a shop where we can rent skates. And if it’s not we can just stroll around town. To go back, we can take the shorter way back along the road we came with the car.” “I like that,” you admitted as you scrolled through the website Yangyang had pulled up on his phone. The prices weren’t so bad and the scenery looked breathtaking. “Let’s do that,” you concluded, giving your best fried a bright smile.
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Even bundled up in your thickest jacket and with a big scarf wrapped around your throat, the cold air outside of the cabin was unforgiving. But somehow you really liked how clean the air was as it prickled through your lungs before you exhaled again, your breath coming out in a little white huff. “I didn’t think it would be so cold, wow,” Yangyang mused as he locked the cabin before walking over to you. “I like it,” you smiled, “Which way?” But instead of an answer all you got from your best friend was a snowball thrown at you, hitting you square in the chest as you turned around to him. “Oh you’re so on,” you grinned, immediately ducking down to scoop some snow up yourself to fire right back. Your loud giggles and shouts filled the otherwise quite air of the forest and you didn’t even feel the cold of the snow and the air seeping into your bones and clothes, all you focused on was to get Yangyang back for knocking your hat off of your head when the face definitely should be off limits. “You little shit,” you yelled, running over to him to dunk his face into the big pile of snow that had gathered in front of the cabin when suddenly you stepped onto a plate of ice, making you lose your footing and the world quickly turned sideways.
You heard Yangyang yell your name before his worried face came back into your field of vision. “Shit, are you okay?” “Yeah, fine,” you crooked out. The fall really had knocked all air out of your lungs and who were you kidding, you would probably get a nasty bruise on your leg from where you had fallen on the unforgiving ice. “Hey, careful,” Yangyang said, taking your hands in his to pull you back to your feet. “Fuck,” you cursed when you put weight on your left leg, pain shooting up all the way up to your back, “I don’t think I can stand.” “Shit, left foot?” You simply nodded and gritted your teeth together as he tried to help you up again, immediately stabilizing you, so you didn’t have to put weight on your injured leg. “I’m sorry,” you muttered as he helped you to waddle back over to the cabin. Great. Now you had not only ruined your day but maybe even your whole short holidays. Yangyang for sure hadn’t wanted to be stuck inside this cabin with you for two more days. “Don’t be. Let’s take a look at that, might be broken or something,” your best friend reassured you.
With awkward little hops, he guided you over to the little sofa in the living room where you had been cuddling all evening yesterday. “Let me take a look.” After shedding your jackets and other gear you had worn to shield yourselves from the cold, Yangyang carefully unlaced your boots with nimble fingers, apologizing every time you winced in pain. “Well fuck. This thing is so swollen,” he announced once boot and sock were off of your foot. “How bad?” You asked with your eyes squeezed shut, not daring to take a look at it. “Hold still,” he instructed you, gently touching the swollen ankle to rotate it carefully which tore a whimper from your lips. “I don’t think it’s broken,” Yangyang eventually announced, “Ten has sprained his ankle during practice before and it looked similar, so I don’t think we need to get you to a hospital right now.” Thank god that your best friend was taking those dancing classes. “On a scale from when you burned your hand while trying to cook ramyeon in milk to whatever your roommate once left in that pot for too long, how gross does it look?” “It’s really not that bad yet,” Yangyang giggled before he let out a fake gag, “Please do not remind me of that pot, it’s a wonder that whatever that was had not grown legs and left the pot on its own accord.”
“Hold my hand,” you demanded, making grabby hands at your best friend where he was sat in front of you on the floor. “You big baby, it’s really not that bad. It’s not even bruised yet,” he laughed but took your hand in his anyways, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Finally opening your eyes, you took in the picture: You ankle was definitely fucked. If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess that it had already swollen to at least three times of its usual size and pulsating with the blood that was rushing to the surface. “Disgusting.” “If we cool it enough and keep it still, everything should be fine,” Yangyang reassured you, giving your hand another squeeze and rubbing your leg with his other hand, “You’re all tensed up. Does anything else hurt?” “My whole leg?” You slowly said but it came out more as a question than anything else. “Let me see.” “What do you mean let me see?” You all but screeched, pulling back your hand to clutch them at your chest instead where your heart was beating in quick succession. “Come on, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in a bathing suit or anything. I just want to make sure it’s just the ankle,” he calmed you down. Why was your heart beating so fast anyways? Yangyang was right. You had seen each other in different states of undress over all the years you had already been friends. But for some reason everything felt different in this secluded little cabin in the middle of nowhere. It was like you were seeing Yangyang in a completely different light. He was not just the funny guy who only cared about hanging out with his friends and having fun; he suddenly seemed a lot more mature here. Weird. The clean air must have already gotten to your head.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Yangyang spoke again, kneading soothing circles into your still very much tensed calf muscles. “Okay,” you whispered, slowly unbuttoning you jeans, thanking whoever was listening that you had packed and worn nice panties. With combined effort, you wrestled the damp fabric of your jeans from your legs to reveal that your whole left side had already started to bruise up, dark colors bleeding into your skin. “Oh fuck,” you cursed, throwing your head back, “That looks so bad.” You couldn’t help but giggle. “I look like I have been fucking mauled.” “Or like you have a very unhealthy skin condition,” your best friend joined your laughter. But what you couldn’t see was how his eyes darted over the exposed skin, not knowing where he should look first. “I’ll check your knee,” he mumbled once you both had stopped laughing, gently touching your skin. You couldn’t help but hiss when his fingers met your flesh even though he was being gentle. It felt like his fingers left little flames in their wake, leaving your skin tingling. You saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat before he spoke: “Your knee seems fine, but those bruises will turn nasty in an hour or two.” “G-great,” you stuttered, avoiding Yangyang’s eyes while looking down to where his hand was still resting on your knee. “I think I still have some ointment from dance class in my bag that could help,” he mumbled, “I could get that and massage the muscles for a bit in case you pulled something as well.” “Massage,” you repeated, starstruck. “Not if you don’t want to but it might get worse if you’ve pulled a muscle or something if it keeps being this tense.”   “I- Yeah. Ok,” you stuttered. “Don’t move.” “Funny,” you grumbled as Yangyang went to fetch his ointment from the bedroom.
“It’s going to be cold,” he warned you when he sat back down in front of you again, lathering up his hands with the strong smelling ointment before he gently pressed down on the muscles of your calf, his fingers working on the knots in your muscle before slowly making their way upwards. You had to bite your lip in order to keep any noise from slipping once his fingers had reached the skin just above your knee. “You’re really tense,” Yangyang mumbled after a while, his fingers itching almost dangerously high on your thigh by now, kneading your sensitive flesh. “Yeah, you’re just. I’m- yeah,” you really didn’t know where you were going with this answer, hyper aware of his fingers on your skin. “Should I stop?” “No, it feels good. It’s just...” “Weird?” “A little,” you admitted, making both of you chuckle awkwardly. “Maybe a little heat would be good as well.” “Y... Yeah.” You really weren’t sure if even less clothes between Yangyang and you would help with whatever this atmosphere between you two was right now. “Let’s get you up and going then,” your best friend smiled and if it was a little less vibrant than it usually was, you chose to ignore it.
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Once you were submerged in the warm water, a blissful sound slipped past your lips and you felt all tension that was left in your body leave you, the jets and the warm water effectively relaxing your body and mind.   “You good?” Yangyang quietly asked as he submerged himself right next to you, gently pulling your injured leg onto hip lap to prod at the muscles again. “Yeah,” you sighed and closed your eyes, willing your mind to shut up about how he was just your best friend and it should definitively not feel this good when he was innocently kneading your muscles. As all the tenseness seeped from your body, his fingers got more and more gentle until they all but caressed the soft skin of your thigh.  
“Yangyang?” You quietly asked after a while when the only sounds between you came from the bubbling of the water and the occasional sound of a bird. Your best friend just hummed to indicate that he had heard you, his fingers stopping to draw random shapes onto your thigh. “Is it weird that I really want to kiss you right now?” At that your friend seemed to freeze, his thigh muscles tensing up where your leg was thrown onto his lap. “N... No, I don’t think so,” he eventually mumbled. “No?” “No. Because I kind of really want to kiss you as well,” he confessed, his dark eyes finding yours and the amount of trust and openness in his eyes momentarily took your breath away. “Then kiss me,” you breathed. “I- I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he replied but inched closer to you anyways. “It won’t,” you promised, gently cupping your best friend’s jaw and stroking your thumb along his cheekbone. “Promise?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise,” you whispered back before you let your eyes flutter closed when your lips finally met in a delicate kiss, barely more than a gently press of lips.
When you separated again, you sighed gently against his lips before pressing another quick peck to them which made your best friend chuckle. “This feels nice,” he whispered. “Not weird?” You asked just to confirm, gently tracing his features with your fingers. “It feels just right.” “Yeah,” you sighed. “More?” Smiling you nodded and connected your lips again, firmer this time but still gently exploring this new territory. Slowly Yangyang seemed to grow more confident and he let his hands settle on your waist to pull you a little closer to him, causing you to softly gasp. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pressing little kisses to your cheeks and the corners of your mouth until you giggled. “Kiss me,” you demanded, wrapping your arms around his neck so your hands could play with the long strands of his hair before kissing him again. By now you almost sat in his lap, the angle a little weird because of how your leg was still thrown over his lap. But none of you seemed to mind as you took all the time of the world to explore each other’s lips.
After a little while Yangyang broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You couldn’t fight your smile, basking in the feeling of being close to him. This close you could count his eyelashes that were stuck together from the water and admire the blush that sat high on his cheekbones. “I really like you,” Yangyang suddenly confessed, pulling your bodies flush together to hide his face in your neck. “I really like you too,” you giggled, running your hands through his damp hair. “No I mean I like like you. I- I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time,” he mumbled against your skin. With how close you were pushed together, Yangyang must definitely feel how hard and fast your heart was hammering in your chest. What he couldn’t see was the big smile that spread on your lips while you were trying to find the right words to tell him that you felt the same, that he was a very special person to you. “You don’t have to like me back,” he suddenly said, tightening his grip on you, “I know you probably only see me as a friend and nothing else. But if I keep this to myself any longer, I might burst. I just- Please don’t hate me. You’re all I have.”
“Yangyang,” you gently spoke, trying to pry his head from your neck. “I don’t have any courage left to look you in the face as you reject me,” he whined when he wasn’t budging, this grip he had on your waist tightening just a little. “I’m not going to reject you.” “You’re not?” Your best friend immediately straightened up, his face full of surprise. “No,” you chuckled and couldn’t resist to press a quick kiss to his lips, “I think I’m in love with you as well.”
For a while Yangyang didn’t say anything, his mouth just wordlessly hanging open and eyes wide. “I mean it,” you giggled, playfully hitting his shoulder, “Say something, idiot.” “I- I was full on prepared for heartbreak. I didn’t mean to confess until Sunday to not make it awkward. It just. Yeah…” “Why would I reject you?” “You never said anything and whenever I would try to take you out or do something alone with you, you kept inviting the others and simply played my flirting off as a joke.”
Thinking back, you felt like there were scales falling from your eyes when you remembered all the times Yangyang had asked you out to the movies and you had dragged Donghyuck or Renjun with you. Or when you had invited him for movie night and his face fell when he saw Jaemin and Jeno already sitting on your sofa. Or when he had invited you to one of his dance shows and you had marveled about how graceful Ten could dance and he had become all grumpy.
“Holy fuck, I’ve been so oblivious,” you groaned, pillowing your head on his chest that shook with laughter. “I’ll forgive you if you become my girlfriend,” Yangyang gently spoke, combing his hands through your hair. “Yes,” you breathed, your heart fluttering wildly. “Seal it with a kiss?” He didn’t need to say anything else because you quickly pressed your lips together again, hoping Yangyang could feel all your love and you could at least make up for the pain you had caused him.
“Me too,” he whispered against your lips in between kisses, “I love you too, idiot.” “Your idiot,” you grinned. “All mine,” Yangyang smiled brightly. And if you two shared more kisses and sweet giggles beneath the sky in the hot tub next to your cabin, only Mother Nature would know about it.
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corysmiles · 3 years
Text
Giant house AU submission!! :D
Cw for language. Techno doesn't swear but the giants does. (It's only like, 2 words if I remember correctly)
———
Now that it had finally sunk in Techno's head that it's winter, he's starting to feel how cold it is. He thought that it was cold before, but noooo it's colder now. Seriously, why's it so much colder in the Giants' land?
Techno huffed. He supposes there's nothing he can do about the climate. If it's cold, it's cold.
But, there is something he can do about his body temperature. He can make thicker clothes.
With the plan to take more fabric from the giants in his mind, Techno began his plan.
***
Day(night) two of taking fabric for his winter clothes. He thinks he should stop.
The first night was fine. Aside from the usual "avoiding the nocturnal giant", He manages to take some fabric from the Bird Giant's room. Side note, the Bird giant's crow's feathers are a good material for extra thickness. He managed to make an inner lining for his current cloak with it, maybe he should consider using it for bed material.
But today, a harsh, cold night for Techno, The phantom giant— Wilbur, was it?— left out an oddly-placed lantern. It was placed dangerously near the place he dropped a can a few nights ago, and Techno is fairly sure it's a trap. He shouldn't do his plan today, it's dangerous. Plus, Chat is screaming at him to retreat, overly wary about the usually-wandering Phantom giant.
Night three, the blizzard has not died down. In fact, it became stronger. Techno's current cloak is not built for winter. Even with the extra giant crow feathers' lining, and the extra addition of his usually-warm body, it doesn't matter, he's freezing cold.
Techno gave a quick glance to the lantern that the Wilbur giant left out. He instinctively gulped. Lantern has fire inside of it, that means warmth. Besides, the phantom giant didn't come around this area to check last night, it- it might not be a trap, right?
Slowly, Techno approaches the lantern, ignoring Chat that is screaming "NO" and "HE'S THERE" with each step closer he checks his surroundings for any giants, and with each step he doesn't see any signs of giant, he gets closer and warmer to the lantern.
Last step, he checks around, and he practically melts to the warmness of the lantern. It's bliss.
So obviously, Techno doesn't realize about the phantom giant who caught a glimpse of his shadow relaxing againts the lantern he left. And of course, Techno doesn't see the warm smile that was plastered on the giant's face as he left the scene. Chat does, though, but Techno was too sleepy(he slept) to notice.
ooo
Night four, and he didn't take enough fabric again. He contemplated not taking it today, though, since this morning he had been caught by the Bird Giant's crows, and he really don't want to go to the Moth Giant's—Tommy, he remembered,— room (It was practically a maze—and a dangerous one at that— with the occasional toys and maybe spiders(normal sized, not the one that's double the size of him) in the corner) Or the Phantom Giant's room. But he's so close to finishing the winter clothes, and he has to finish the thing as soon as possible.
So, after a bit of thought, he decided to take fabric scraps from the Phantom Giant's room. He heard the Moth Giant got scolded this morning due to his messy room, and from the looks of it, the Moth Giant has no intention to clean his room. So Techno decided it'll be easier to take from the Wilbur giant room. It's messy and tidy enough to have places to hide and find stray fabric scraps. He can do this.
As soon as he goes out, though, a strum of melody plays. The vibration shook his whole body, and he tensed up. From his hiding spot, he saw the giant is tuning his guitar.
It was loud. Both his head and the sound. Techno almost retreated right there. Almost. Until the Wilbur giant started playing his guitar.
It was a sad tune, slow and heavy. But it's nice to hear. Wilbur is a good musician. Chat is split between wanting him to lean in closer to the music and to "Watch out!" but almost none of them wanted him to retreat. It's nice, having this kind of slow moment after a while of him and Chat being anxious about being found out. For a moment, Techno contemplated to sit down and just.. sing.
But he didn't, it's too risky, he's come this far, he shouldn't be found out. So he takes the fabric scraps he needed, and left.
ooo
This time, it's day. And he's currently in a undesirable situation.
He had hoped to take some more shedded feathers. He needed to make that makeshift mattress. So he went into the Bird Giant's (Phil, wasn't it? Or was it Philza? Maybe both) room, and prepared to take more shedded crow feather. And he's in luck! There was a pile of shedded feather— maybe two or three giant-sized feathers— and that instantly became his target.
And he honestly doesn't know the reason he thought that taking the Giant's stuffs in the day was a good idea. Because he's currently waiting motionless in the pile of feathers. Bird giant currently discussing something with the Moth giant, and one of the Bird Giant's crows are looking at the pile he's sitting on with an intent look. He shouldn't move. If he moves, there's another chance he'll get carried by the crows again, and he may not be unfound like last time, since this time there's another giant.
So there he was, currently in the 5th minute, as he stood still while waiting for the giants to stop talking. He doesn't remember if conversations usually lasts this long, or maybe it's because the Moth giant is just so good (and loud) at talking. Either way, this is not good.
It's currently the 7th minute, and the Phantom giant has joined in, Techno contemplated to just run, but he's so sure that more crows are looking at him, so he stopped.
12th minute, and he's playing word games in silent with Chat. It's an unusual situation.
14th minute, He's sleepy. He hasn't slept well, and oh dang this feather pile is so soft
16th minute, Technoblade is asleep. Not even Chat can wake him up. The "stream" is off
***
That was a long conversation.
Tommy started by whining about how he wanted an apple tree in the background because it'll be "Poggers". Of course, Phil declined. But then Wilbur fucking joined in and tries to convince him to plant an apple tree. Sometimes, Phil hates Wilbur's ability to give solid argument however bizzare is the subject is. Phil decides to buy an apple tree sprout, afterall.
With a sigh, he looked around his room, shit, since when it's became so cluttered? There's even a pile of feathers in the ground! When the fuck did his crows do that? He gave a small glare towards his crows, who wasn't even fazed. Who's he kidding, they're crows. Phil gave himself a light laugh at the thought.
He should sweep the floor first, then he'll go to the market to buy the apple sprout.
But, upon starting to sweep the floor, he notices a dim red figure in it. Curious, Phil sat down and continued to stare at the figure. Two seconds and he realized that the figure is a human. They're real, the small creatures that supposedly live in a distant/imagination place, they're actually real.
Another two second passed before Phil caught himself reaching out to the tiny creature sleeping in front of him. He snapped out of his instinct to just, hold the tiny and protect him from the big world around them. But he stopped, realizing the thought of waking up on top of the hand of a being that could seriously hurt you is a terrifying experience.
So he waited. With a bit of distance between him and the human, he waited intently for the human to wake up, shushing his crows when he saw one of them wanting to take the human.
It didn't take long before the human woke up. After lottle wake-up routine like stretching, he looked around, and noticing Phil's figure looking at him with anticipation oozing from his heart. The human froze.
"Hello." Phil started.
The human ran. Not looking back as they disappeared into the wall.
Phil sighed at the sight. It's honestly should be an expected reaction.
"I hope I don't scare you too much. I'm Phil" Phil introduced himself to the surroundings, hoping the human would hear him "I have no intention to hurt you, and if there's something you need, feel free to talk to us. We're not evil" He finishes, tone light in hope for the human to not be scared.
Well. Time for that apple sprout, huh?
Edit: OH MY GODHXJWNZN, I love this so much thank you :”] I really love Phil just waiting for him to wake up it’s so sweet
123 notes · View notes
izuberry · 3 years
Text
oblivious
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contains: just angst *sob*
paring: izuku midoriya x gn!reader
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on monday, may 10th,
you and izuku had agreed on studying for finals together, which of course, never really ended up as studying. studying sessions with the green head always ended up in a fit of laughter and mario kart music echoing through out the room. almost every time the two of you were together, your inner child always seemed to seep out. you frantically threw your arms up in victory, “yes! i finally beat you!” you rambled on about how much better you were than him, while izuku laughed at your words. what you didn’t know was that izuku had purposely let you win for once just to see that beaming smile plaster across your face. he would do practically anything just to see you so care free and joyful as you are now.
but you couldn’t have known that.
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on wednesday, may 12th,
izuku sat behind you as you spoke to momo about something he wasn’t really focused on at the moment. he was focused on the prolonged stares a certain ash blonde gave you. every minute, he discreetly glanced at his crimson eyes boring into you, feeling his stomach knot up. anger, sadness, confusion, all these things he felt but he couldn’t tell which one caused the churning in his stomach. his eyes averted towards you, only to find you giving him that smile. the same smile that he would get whenever he had just cheered you up from when you were feeling a bit discouraged, the same smile he got whenever he did something that sent you into a fit of laughter. izuku felt the nausea only grow worse as he watched bakugo walk you out the class, muffling out the goodbyes you gave him.
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on friday, may 14th,
izuku furrowed his eyebrows as he laid deep in thought. he groaned as he turned on his side to grab his phone. 1:35 in the morning. why was he up at one in the morning thinking about you? he’s been asking himself them same question for the past hour. izuku stared at the bright background of his phone with a faint smile. god, you were so beautiful that day. it was the day of the sports festival and you were so excited that you woke him up at four in the morning just to get ready.
“rise and shine, ‘zuku!” you eagerly flopped your arms around. “y-y/n?! it’s four in the morning, what are you doing here?!” izuku jumped back in shock of your loud voice. “did you forget? uh, it’s the sports festival? you should be grateful i’m here, you probably would’ve been late if i hadn’t woken you up,” you triumphantly patted yourself on the back. once the two of you got outside you lightly patted izuku on the shoulder, “hey, can i see your phone for a sec?” he hesitantly handed the device to you. you opened the camera and brought it in front of you two, “smile for me my number one hero!” you beamed. the camera flashed right as izuku’s cheeks flushed a bright red at your words. izuku turned off his phone, still staring at the now black screen.
yes, izuku just found out why you’ve been making him feel these unfamiliar feelings.
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on sunday, may 16th,
izuku smiled when your contact name popped up onto his screen, he eagerly accepted your call. “hey y/n—izuku! i have big news!” you excitedly interrupted him, causing him to chuckle. your excitement always seemed to get the best of you. “let’s hear it n/n,” he laughed, taking a seat onto his bed. he heard your failed attempt at a drum roll on the other side of the call, he laughed as he rested his face on his palm. “katsuki asked me out! on an..” his smile quickly faded as he tuned out the rest of your words. who had asked you out? his childhood friend who had practically made his life miserable? there it was, that same nauseous feeling in his stomach. despite the fact, he knew this day was coming, he still got his hopes up. he could have just avoided this if he just avoided you, ignored any contact with you. even when he’s considered the idea, he didn’t have the guts to do it. he already knew you didn’t feel the same for him. “can you believe it ‘zuku?” you uttered from behind the screen. “i’m happy for you n/n,” he was genuinely happy about the fact that there was a smile on your face, he just couldn’t bring himself to be happy for the reason why.
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© IZUBERRY 2021
120 notes · View notes
make-me-imagine · 4 years
Text
Red Roses: “I Love You” - Loki Ending
Valentines Special: Day Nine
Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   // Day Six: Violets Day Seven: Lisianthus  //  Day Eight: Daffodils (Post with rest of the character endings)
Plot: It’s finally Valentines Day, the day the reader will finally learn who it is that had been leaving them flowers and notes expressing their secret feelings.
Note: Reader is referenced to be immortal in this (a part of their mutation/powers) 
Pairing: Gen!Neutral Reader x Loki
Triggers: None        Words: 1,665   
Requested Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​, @thebookbakery​​ @spuffyfan394​​​, @fablesrose​​, @kitkatd7​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​, @beksib​​, @destynelseclipsa​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​, @snarky--starky​​, @saintbootlegloras​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​, @empath-bunny​​, @okkulta​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​ ,  @goinggoinggonzo​​, @mxxnmocha​​, @lainphotography​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​, @emilythezeldafan​​
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February 14th
It was the morning of Valentines Day, finally. It felt like it had taken forever to finally arrive. But you found yourself somewhat disappointed that it did. As you lied in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that had taken over. 
No matter how much you loved the Avengers, and how open minded you were trying to be, you knew that there was only one person you had feelings for. One person that you desired your admirer to be above all others. And of course, this one person was the one you probably should not have feelings for, and was the one person who you knew it wouldn’t be. 
You knew this, and you knew he was gone again, but you still had a tiny glimmer of hope beneath the disappointment and anxiety. You tried to ignore it, knowing that the longer you held onto that hope, the more disappointed you would be in the end.  
Finally getting out of bed and on with your day, you tried your best the shove the anxiety away and out of mind. Not wanting to worry about it until you absolutely had too. 
- - - 
The rest of the day went by much quicker than you had anticipated, your anxiety was growing as you stood in the elevator with Wanda, Natasha, Clint and Vision on the way up to the party. You eyed the others, your thoughts busy with who it could be. You hadn’t said much to any of them, and you knew that they noticed. You wondered if they knew why, if they understood how you felt. 
As you entered into the room, already full of people who had arrived early just the make sure they got in. For the first time you felt a bit comforted, knowing that you could hide among the crowd, distract yourself, well, until you couldn’t. 
Quickly parting from the group you walked towards the crowd looking for others you knew that weren’t the Avengers. But before you could get far, you felt someone grab your arm. Turning, you see Natasha, with Clint right behind her. 
“What?” you asked, concerned. 
“Are you okay?” Clint asked.
You hesitated for a moment “No” you said, your voice quieter than you meant. 
Natasha shared a look with Clint before they got closer to you “This is about your admirer right?” You stared at her, nodding lightly “Yeah I thought so.” 
“I don’t know if I can handle it anymore Nat. At first it was...sweet and exciting, but...the more I think about it, the more I...” you couldn’t quite put into words what you wanted to say. Would they understand if you told them who you really wanted it to be? 
“You can’t picture yourself with any of them can you?” she asked.
“Only one. And they are the least likely.” you admitted. 
“Loki” Clint said suddenly you looked at him with surprise.
“How did you know?” 
“Oh come on Y/n, I’ve seen the way you are around him, and I’ve seen the way he is around you, your the only one of us he actually likes. Maybe it’s not as unlikely as you think.” 
Looking at Nat you could tell form her face that she must have known too, you sighed “He hasn’t even been here. I’ve seen him maybe two times in the last week Clint.”
Clint and Natasha shared a look before Nat spoke “Okay, look, when he showed up with Thor that day you got hurt in the lab, and found what happened. He was angry as hell, and though he didn’t show it, I think he was scared. And, I’m pretty sure he spent a few hours in your hospital room when no one else was around.” she admitted making your heart begin pounding. 
“He did?” you asked in surprise “I didn’t even know he knew about what happened.” you thought about it for a moment “But, we are friends, that- it doesn’t mean anything, it still doesn’t change the fact that he hasn’t been around, and he sure as hell isn’t here.” 
Nat looked behind you “Maybe he is.”
Turning and following her line of sight, you see Thor entering the room, greeting everyone with a loud and cheerful voice. Your heart started beating in your chest. Did he come too?
Upon seeing you, Thor approached the three of you greeting you all. “Hey Thor, did Loki come?” Clint asked for you. 
“Loki?” Thor laughed “Of course not. You know how much he dislikes Tony’s parties” he laughed again. 
You looked at Clint and Natasha with a face of ‘I told you so.’ before sighing out “It’s good to see you Thor, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go get something to drink.” you asked before walking away, giving a parting look to Natasha and Clint. 
Walking through the crowd, you left the room instead of getting a drink, you just wanted to leave. All you were now was confused. What if Loki liked you? But it still seemed unlikely that he was the one who left the flowers and notes. So what if you would have to choose. Break your admirers heart to be with Loki? 
Finding a empty sitting room closed off from the party-goers, you walked over to a large window and stared out at the city. Maybe it was best you weren’t with anyone? Say no to your admirer, and no to Loki. That way there wouldn’t have to be choosing one over another. 
You began to think about your relationship with Loki. You started as enemies, and then, when you heard about what happened with the dark elves, and then with Hela and Thanos, you thought he changed. Finally meeting him over a year ago, when you helped Thor and his people find a new home. He was charming and funny. Not the ruthless villain you thought he originally was. He changed. He was still mischievous and did questionable things, but over all, he was good. And you told him so enough, especially when he doubted himself. 
And eventually, you became friends. He told you a lot things that he never even told Thor. And in return you told him your secrets and desires. You bonded over having forever as immortals to be who you truly wanted, to do the things you truly wanted. Was it too good to be true, for him to have grown more than just fond of you? 
Through your busy thoughts, you heard a quiet noise behind you, the door? Turning around, you see the door is still closed, and there is no one in the room. But you definitely heard something. You looked around the room as you took a few steps into the middle of the room “Hello?” you asked cautiously. 
Hearing another noise behind you, and seeing the light of something brighten the room slightly, you spun around, seeing a bouquet of beautiful red roses appear on the table by the window. You stared at them in awe before being startled by a voice behind you.
“Do you like them?” 
Spinning back around, you see Loki standing behind you, small smile on his face, surely due to your shocked reaction. “Loki?” you asked, exasperated “It was you” you said with an air confirmation. 
“Yes. Are you surprised at this?” he asked, cocking his head slightly.  
You let out an exasperated breath “Well...yes, I mean. You haven’t even been here.”
“Not that you knew of you mean?” he said with a smirk “I am a sorcerer you know.” 
“So you just used your magic?” 
He shrugged slightly in confirmation before he took a few steps closer to you “It seemed easier that way. Less suspicious. I mean, if I were to suddenly show up the same day you began receiving those gifts, and then never left...” he trailed off as he continued to watch you as he stopped in front of you “It would be too easier to figure out.”
You stared at him, unsure of what to do “Did you really mean those things you said in your notes?” 
A small, almost melancholy smile appeared on his face “Of course I did, I’m sorry you even have to question it.”
“I just...all this time, no matter how much my...feelings for you changed, I thought you only saw me as a friend.”
“Not only” he shook his head “But so much more. A friend, confidant, a partner in crime”  he smirked, surely referring to the small pranks you had helped him pull around the tower in previous visits “And, the one person in all my life, that I could truly picture myself loving unconditionally. You believe more than the others that I can be good, and you are the one person I truly want to be good for.” 
You became somewhat breathless as the sincerity in his voice, the way he was speaking was similar to the many confessions he had made about his past to you in secret, in confidence. “Loki-”
He cut you off by bringing his hands to your face “I love you Y/n.” 
You brought your hand up and placed it on top if his, burying your face a little deeper into his palm as you looked into his eyes “I love you too Loki.”
He let out a shaky breath filled with relief as a smile grew on his face as he stroked your face with his thumb, pulling you closer to him and into a deep passionate kiss, sealing the confession permanently. 
When you pulled away, he continued to stare into your eyes with a smile, that you returned. He spoke quietly “Come with me.”
“Where?” 
“Anywhere you want to go, I’ll take you to see the universe if you’d like, as long as it’s by my side.” 
You smiled widely at him “How about everywhere?”
He smiled brightly, the thought of travelling the universe with you filling him with excitement “Everywhere it is.”
xx xx xx xx xx
Hope you liked it! Please consider reblogging if you did :) And check out the other endings if you want~
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Text
Mist | Choi San | Chapter 5
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Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)
Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school
Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence
Words: 8.7k
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.
Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)
chapter directory
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Seohyun woke up to her phone buzzing. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, checking who was calling. It was San. She declined the call to read the several text messages he had sent. It was something about how they were all going out for lunch and she was joining (funny how they'd stop asking now, just said it) and that she was... to go on a date with him later.
She texted back a simple OK and checked the time. It was already almost afternoon- she had slept in. After showering, she was brushing her teeth when she paused.
It was gonna be her first date with San.
"Ayyy~" she waved at her reflection, resuming. She wasn't one to make a big deal out of stuff, but she had to admit it was... a little bit exciting. And she couldn't say the same about San. He seemed like the type to take these things serious, like first dates. So she decided that she did not want to disappoint him and would put in a little bit effort.
Seohyun checked her wardrobe. She didn't have much 'cute' stuff. Her first priority was always comfort when she picked her clothes. And they were usually monochrome or dark colours. She didn't like wearing bright stuff. Her only mildly cute outfit was the green dress she'd worn the last time with Jiwoo.
She moved on way too early, Seohyun thought. There was no one to help her dress up now. Her mom...
Seohyun realized there was something. Her mother had given her some sort of a top for her birthday last year. She had buried it in the back of her closet because she had deemed it too 'fashionable' for her. Seohyun threw her clothes out to find it. Indeed, it was still there.
It was a purple blouse with lace around the neck and tiny pearls. She shrugged. She'd pair it with pants and ankle boots.
After dressing up and tying her hair in half a ponytail, she stood in front of the mirror. She looked presentable, if one ignored her still-puffy-from-sleeping face. She sighed and put on the only lip gloss she had. That could do. She smiled at her reflection once before grabbing her phone and leaving the house.
They were meeting at a new café that Yunho and Yeosang had been wanting to try on forever. Yeosang had assured them it had good reviews for their desserts too. They were all already there by the time Seohyun reached. She had spent a good minute admiring the exterior of the café while the boys laughed at her unaware self, watching her through the window.
Mingi waved at her once she was inside and they made space for her. After exchanging greetings, they decided they would order food first. They decided on ordering two of everything and sharing, and once they gave the order, they all looked at Seohyun.
"You look... like you actually made effort today," Hongjoong commented.
"What do you mean?" Seohyun asked, forgetting for a second.
"Hey, don't say that, or she'll never dress up again," San pouted, and Seohyun realized, looking down at her dress.
"Is it too much?" she asked, "I've actually, honestly, never made effort. So I need honest reviews."
"It's not too much, it's perfect," Seonghwa assured, "In fact, you could have done more, but since this is you, it's perfect."
"That sounds.... like a compliment and insult at the same time, thank you Seonghwa."
They laughed and Yeosang said, "Hongjoong's the fashionista. You should only ask him."
"Yes, yes, Seonghwa's right. You look good!"
"That's the only top I had," Seohyun sighed, looking at San who was staring at her with an adorable expression on his face. "The rest of my wardrobe, you've seen."
"I guess we're going shopping then after this. I hope you have the card on you that you liked to flex about so much," Hongjoong smirked.
"I do-"
"But we're going on our first date today-"
"WHAT?!"
Seohyun face-palmed. San had done it.
San looked at Seohyun for help and she sighed. "Well, no need to over-react, Wooyoung. As you all know, San and I are... sort of, uh... dating?"
Yunho snickered first before everyone started laughing at how awkward Seohyun suddenly got, and it was her turn to look at San for help. It wasn't everyday she lost her demeanor. Falling in love did make one a different person, she realized.
"Yeah, so you're sort of dating?" Jongho wiggled his eyebrows.
"Yes, Jongho, we're DATING." Seohyun said, "And San was planning to take me on our first date after this."
"You haven't been on your first date yet?" Wooyoung asked, "But it's been days now that you've been together! Sannie, you disappoint me!"
Before San could choke Wooyoung, Seohyun interrupted, "It was me. I was busy dealing with ghosts. It turns out Jiwoo had actually been a saint. Did anyone of you know that she used to do half my jobs?"
Everyone fell silent as they listened, "She was never 'bored' of coming to school with me. She just had so much time to kill that she'd help ghosts instead of me. I kind of miss her more now."
"That's sweet," Mingi said, "She really was a great friend."
"I know right! Anyways, this is the reason we haven't had our first date yet."
Other than San, the boys shared looks, and Seohyun saw with dread the devilish smirks appear on their faces as they announced: "Too bad! We're crashing your first date!"
San groaned and dramatically fell back in his chair while Seohyun gaped at them. "I-I'm speechless for once." Laughter filled the room as she said, "If that's what friends are for, I think I'm gonna change my mind..."
Before anyone could protest, food came and they started discussing Hongjoong's love for fashion and the various items he had reformed. Hongjoong assured her if she had a clothing item or something she would like to reform, he was the man.
"I do have this denim jacket that I'm too attached to," Seohyun thought about it, "Can you write something cool on the back of it?"
"Yes, just give me the jacket whenever you can. It'll take no more than two days, unless we have exams."
Seohyun looked at Seonghwa for confirmation and he nodded. "He also makes custom bracelets for us."
"Nice," Seohyun said, "I'd like some too," she wiggled her brows at Hongjoong, who laughed and nodded.
"So what were you gonna do on your first date?" Wooyoung and Jongho leaned in and asked Seohyun.
"San was the one in charge, ask him," she said.
"I was thinking we'd just walk aimlessly around the city..."
They both tsk-ed at San, muttering something about how he was an 'amateur' and would probably bore me to death.
"Hey, that's a nice idea actually. I don't mind."
"You're just saying that to be nice," Jongho said and Seohyun folded her arms.
"I don't say things to be nice, Choi Jongho."
Everyone hooted at that, having heard her, and Seohyun stared at her drink intensely, contemplating if she should 'accidentally' spill it on everyone.
"But she's right, actually," Yeosang said, "She doesn't say things to be nice. If she didn't like that idea, I'm sure she would have said to San with a hidden insult in between. I'm right, aren't I?"
"Thank you, Yeosang," Seohyun said, "I love you."
Yeosang saluted and San pouted, "Hey! You haven't even said that to me yet!"
Everyone was silent for a good minute before they burst out laughing, including Seohyun. San's pout went bigger and Seohyun poked him.
"Ayyy. I say that everyday, just not in words."
"OHHHH!" Everyone hooted and San actually smiled, trying to hide a blush but failing.
"How do you say it then?" Mingi asked, wiggling his brows, and Yunho made kissing sounds in the air, earning a smack from Wooyoung who was right beside him.
"Next time I encounter a dangerous ghost, I'm actually gonna befriend them," Seohyun said, smashing her now empty glass on the table as she glared at them, "I have a few ideas of how to make you all suffer."
Yunho snickered and Mingi immediately bowed, muttering praises about how Seohyun was the most kind girl he'd ever met. It was Seohyun's turn to smirk.
After they were done eating, everyone got up and they decided to go to the mall. It seemed like Hongjoong was bent on getting her good dresses, and he whispered to her that she should wear them on her dates, which actually made Seohyun flush for a good second.
"Hi," San said, holding her hand in his. He was walking with her now, both at the end while the others were ahead.
"Hey," Seohyun smiled, squeezing his hand subconsciously as she continued walking forward.
"Did you know purple is my favourite colour? I love this on you," San said, and Seohyun smiled.
"I did not. You'll have to thank my mom for this," Seohyun said, "She got me this for my birthday last year,"
"Oh, when's your birthday?"
"21st December."
"Right. So we have about two months. Is there something you want?"
"I wish my mom would be home actually," Seohyun said, "The last birthday I had with her was my 14th. I actually had fun then. Mom's friends had come, there's one that I'm close with. We had a banger then."
"That sounds fun," San smiled.
"It was," Seohyun smiled wistfully, "Now she's always busy during that time. So she just sends me a gift and a cake. And I spend my birthday alone."
San felt quite sad to hear that. "You won't be alone this year, I promise."
Seohyun looked at him. He had said that with such clarity that she believed him.
"I have a feeling that won't be the case," she suddenly said, and San almost stopped.
"What do you mean?"
"It's my gut. It's always right. I suppose it comes with the ghost thing. I just suddenly felt that wasn't going to be the case when you said that."
San put his arm around her, "You probably felt that because you've spent most of your birthdays alone. But now you have us, and there's always a chance your mom could come too. I can assure you, you won't be alone this year."
"Maybe," Seohyun let herself hope, pushing the feeling of dread back.
They reached the mall and Seohyun watched as Hongjoong and Wooyoung took the lead, discussing what would go well with her hair and skin colour, stuff that Seohyun didn't quite understand. She was too busy rejecting the ones Yunho, Mingi and Jongho were picking for her, making sure they got bright yellows and neon shades just to annoy her. They were having quite a laugh.
Seonghwa, Yeosang and San had disappeared to another shop it seemed. Wooyoung threw a top at her, ordering her to hold on herself so they could check.
"This has too many beads," Seohyun muttered.
"There are literally only 6 beads on it, stop being a child," Wooyoung said, snatching the top back from her and she pouted as they put it in the cart.
Hongjoong held another top, checking its size.
"Isn't that too short?" Seohyun asked.
"It's a crop top, Seohyun, of course it is short."
"That's basically the size of a bra! How am I supposed to wear it?!"
Hongjoong and Wooyoung tsk-ed at her. "It's not, it comes to your waist. Wear it with high waisted pants and a jacket if you can," Hongjoong threw it in the cart.
Seohyun threw her hands in the air as she looked back, the trio laughing at her misery. They were clearly enjoying. A thought struck Seohyun. She went to the three of them and asked if she should buy something for San.
"I guess he could use a new jacket," Yunho looked at Jongho and he nodded, "He's been using the same two jackets since forever."
"Help me pick," she said and dragged them to the men's section, and they picked a black denim jacket, putting it with her clothes so San wouldn't be suspicious.
After about 15 minutes, they were all done, and San, Yeosang and Seonghwa joined them as well.
"Where were you all?" Seohyun eyes them suspiciously.
"Just looking around," Seonghwa nodded, and San scratched his neck.
After they all got ice cream as refreshment, they decided to part ways, and Seohyun thanked Hongjoong and Wooyoung sincerely, saying she'd use them well.
"I'll get you both something too. Tell me what you want."
"You don't have to, just wear them, that'd be a gift," Wooyoung laughed.
"No, I can't! You guys put so much effort. I'll get you both something, just you wait," Seohyun promised.
San and her decided to walk back home, carrying the shopping bags with them.
"This is not how I had imagined our first date would go," San admitted.
"I had fun still," Seohyun smiled, "And anyway, the day is not over yet."
"It is! It's 7pm already!"
"Well, what do you say I take you on an adventure after we drop these at home?" Seohyun wiggled her eyebrows, saying, "Unless you have to go home."
"Well, no one's home today so..." San smiled, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Alright, I'll follow you."
Seohyun smiled, skipping as she walked, making San laugh out loud.
---------------
San and Seohyun reached home, dumping the several shopping bags in the living room. They decided to eat dinner and rest a bit, and Seohyun said she'd take him somewhere, but it had to be a surprise.
After they got fresh, they had ramyeon and Seohyun fished out a jacket from her wardrobe. It was gonna be chilly. She went to the living room, searching for San's jacket and went to San.
"Try this on," she said, and San got up from the sofa, trying the black jacket on. "Where we're going, it's gonna be a bit chilly."
"Wow, it fits perfectly," Seohyun stood back to check. "It's a gift."
"Really?" San looked down at the jacket. "Did you get this today?" Seohyun nodded. San smiled, thanking her with a hug.
They locked the house, grabbing only a bag with water bottle and chocolates. They took a taxi, a 30 minute drive to a hill. Seohyun told San she knew a shortcut to get to the top, and indeed, after a short hike, they reached the top.
"The view is amazing," San said, admiring how the full moon lit the night sky, the stars in the sky bright too. The city lights down seemed like stars too.
"A few months ago, a ghost teleported me here. He had died of an accident somewhere around here, and wanted help finding his sister, who had passed away with him. Jiwoo was with me, thankfully. It took us the whole day but we found her."
"Wow, I'm glad Jiwoo was with you," San said, and they both sat on the grass, facing the moon. "Imagine if you were alone and had to go back."
"Oh, I'm not sure if they even moved on. They said they wanted to spend some time together before they moved on, since they weren't sure what life ahead had for them. They might still be enjoying the ghost life."
"Really? Isn't that... dangerous?"
"They did promise. I said I'd come back after a year, and if they hadn't moved on by then, I'd personally exorcise them."
San laughed. "That's kind of you."
Seohyun winked at him. San was looking at the stars, and she took that time to admire his side-profile. He really was a work of art.
"Byeol," San said.
"What?"
"I'm naming our cat Byeol. Now that's an acceptable name, isn't it?"
Seohyun stared at him. "I mean, I was okay with Shiber too..."
"HEY!" San tackled her, tickling her everywhere and Seohyun laughed loudly, "Do you know how much time I spent thinking of a name for the cat!"
"Stop!" Seohyun laughed, and San stopped tickling to hear her out. "I love it. Byeol. Shiber. Whatever you wanna call her."
San shook his head at her. Seohyun realized he was still on top of her. San was staring at her, rather intensely.
San touched her hair. It was a habit of his now, playing with her hair. The grey in her hair was shining thanks to the moonlight. Her eyes shone just as brightly. Her mouth was slightly parted, and San ran his thumb across her lips.
"You're beautiful," he finally said.
Seohyun wanted to tell him that she was not, but she was too flustered to say anything. His broad shoulders blocked the moonlight, making his figure shine instead. He leaned in and kissed her softly, taking his dear time, making sure every peck was slow and good.
Seohyun's internal state was a mess at this time; her heart was beating too loudly, her stomach rolling too furiously, and her mind- oh it was an absolute mess. So she just let him kiss her senseless, her hands going through his hair and back to cup his face as they kissed.
San drew apart and Seohyun held onto his neck, making them sit, and San joined her forehead with his as they caught their breath. He rested her hands on her waist, and Seohyun gulped as she took his hands and put them on her waist under her shirt this time.
San inhaled sharply at the touch, looking at her for confirmation. He was always so patient with her, which she loved about him. Seohyun cupped his face and kissed him, more forcefully now. San followed along, his hands staying at her waist only, his thumb caressing her skin there. She kissed his neck, earning a satisfying moan from him.
"You're being naughty today," San whispered.
"You're being too good today," Seohyun retorted.
"Don't challenge me, Lee Seohyun," San warned, grinning.
"What you're gonna do, Choi San?"
San shook his head once, taking his hands away from her. Seohyun was going to protest but he took off his jacket and kissed Seohyun so hard that she found herself curving back and back until she was lying on the grass. He kissed her face, her neck, her collarbone, one hand on her waist, one roaming around, and Seohyun was a mess.
"What do you say? Do you regret this now?" San asked, smirking.
"Can't say I regret it," Seohyun answered, out of breath.
San laughed, kissing her one last time before lying down with her, holding her close.
Seohyun smiled. "This reminds me of the time when we first kissed," she said, "You were so sleepy."
"I was wide awake internally," San said, making her laugh a little. Seohyun traced his face with her fingers.
"I love you, San."
San's eyes went a little wide in surprise. Seohyun continued, "I know I haven't said it before. I don't know what I waited for. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," San brought her closer as if hugging her, "You didn't have to. I see it everyday."
Seohyun smiled, "Still. I have to say it out loud. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. If I knew love would make me feel pain like this, this weird satisfying sort of pain in the heart, this ache, I would've run away. But I still love you."
"I feel the same," San said, sighing, "I feel scared for you, I'm afraid that you'll get hurt. You do such a dangerous job. I hope I could have been more help. I love you so much that I wish I'd have to do all this instead of you."
"You don't have to," Seohyun said, "This is enough. You, like this, is more than enough."
San couldn't help it; he kissed her again, and it felt like he could cry.
After a few moments, they finally got up. San wore his jacket, and said, "Oh, I almost forgot."
He took out a box from his pocket and handed it to Seohyun. Seohyun opened it to see a locket with a silver star, a single diamante shining in the middle of it.
"It's beautiful," Seohyun smiled, "Is that what you shopped for today?"
"Yep. Come here," San took the necklace from her and helped her wear it.
"Thank you. I'm never gonna take it off," Seohyun said and San laughed.
"Are you saying I should never take this jacket off too?"
"Well," Seohyun shrugged, "If you can manage."
They were laughing when Seohyun's smile suddenly fell from her face.
"There's someone behind me San," she whispered, not taking her eyes off him. "Don't look."
San almost looked away on impulse but Seohyun took his hand, grabbing his attention. "I said don't look. Smile like you were before, quick. Laugh."
San laughed awkwardly, making sure he was smiling. "Look from the corner of your eyes, can you see something?"
San did, and whispered, "I think I see something moving to your left, but it's a bit far I think."
"It's not good," Seohyun whispered, and San understood. "We're gonna have to make a run for it. On the count of three?"
San nodded, squeezing her hand.
"One. Two. Three."
San took her hand and made a dash, realizing that they couldn't go to the trail they'd come for since it was in the opposite direction. Seohyun took the lead, dragging San with her, trying to remember the other way. She looked back once and saw a sickly old woman almost caught up now. A little scream left her and they both ran, Seohyun stopping to grab a rock and aim at the woman. It narrowly missed her but distracted her long enough that they gained speed.
"Where's the other trail?" San shouted and Seohyun went through path after path, not bothering to reply. They were probably lost now.
Seohyun was about to give up and face the woman when a pair of hands grabbed her and she felt herself teleporting a few feet away from where they were, gaining more distance. She heard San gasp and looked to make sure he was okay, but hands grabbed her and she was running again.
"You!" Seohyun exclaimed. The boy and the girl- the brother and sister that had died here. She could not believe it.
"There's a cave here, we're teleporting again, grab on tight!"
Seohyun squeezed San's hand and shut her eyes. One moment she was running and the other she had jumped through time and space and was in the said cave.
"You call this a cave?" Seohyun asked. The boy ignored her, peeking out of the 'cave' as he covered the entrance with more tree branches.
San still held her hand, out of breath, taking out the bottles from Seohyun's bag and handing one to her while he drank some too.
"She lost us," The boy looked back and smiled proudly, high fiving his sister.
The boy must have been 16- he was a tall, lean kid. His short hair were spiky and his eyes were the same as his sister's- who must have been a year older. She looked at Seohyun and said, "Didn't expect to meet you like this, Seohyun."
Seohyun wiped her mouth. "Hi, Gayoung." She looked at the boy then, "Thanks, Youngjae."
"We owed you one," he said, motioning them to sit and take a breather. "We've been living here, so we kind of knew about the woman. She's an old soul, that one. I don't think you can do anything about her, best if you avoid her."
"Well, she should avoid me! Next time I'm gonna kill her-"
"I see you haven't changed," Gayoung grinned. "Who's that with you? And why is he not freaking out?"
"He's my boyfriend," Seohyun said, and Gayoung and Youngjae ooh-ed. "He knows. There was some accident, so he can see ghosts now too. Can't touch them."
"Interesting," Youngjae scanned San. "I didn't know we could teleport others too."
"Only because I was holding him. I guess because it was the two of you, it didn't require me to properly hold him. Remember Jiwoo? She tried it once. Took me to the ghost realm accidentally, with him!"
"With him!" Gayoung gasped, "Is that why he can...?"
"Yes!" Seohyun answered, "I almost died making that trip."
San elbowed Seohyun. "You call that dying?"
"Shut up. So you live here still?"
"Yes, we'll actually move on before the year completes," Youngjae said, "We're just waiting for our parent's wedding anniversary. We used to celebrate it, so we just wanna see them happy before we move on."
"Ah, that's good."
"Where's Jiwoo anyway?" Gayoung asked.
"She moved on," Seohyun sighed.
"So she finally remembered? Good for her!" Youngjae said and they nodded.
After catching up a few minutes, they decided it was safe to go back. Seohyun thanked them earnestly, saying she owed them one more now because this was too big a favour. They just dismissed it, telling her to stay safe. They guided them to another shortcut and soon the two of them were on the way home.
They stopped by at Seohyun's first, and San went inside with her for a moment, hugging her, telling her she was so brave for keeping her calm in that situation, telling her he was proud. With a kiss to her forehead, he left for home.
Seohyun washed up and fell on her bed, beyond exhausted. She recalled the day in her mind; it was a day well spent, if you ignored the last part. She smiled as she played the moments in her head; San was such a sweetheart today. She was playing with her necklace as she fell asleep.
----------------
The few days that followed their rather adventurous first date were as normal as they could get, keeping in mind the fact that it was Seohyun's life in question. She had a tremendous amount of school work to catch up to, and several ghosts to help move on.
Having friends actually helped, Seohyun realized one day as she was doing her homework. She was an average student; she'd do great if she tried, and if she didn't... well. So they'd help her with the subjects they were good at, they'd be her personal motivators, and she'd try to return the favours as well as she could.
She'd been thinking about how she could return the long due favour to Hongjoong and Wooyoung. They'd help her update her wardrobe, and the feedbacks she'd gotten were amazing. She supposed San was a softie and would compliment her even if she was in her worst hoodie, but when critics like Yeosang complimented her, she'd feel glad. She didn't really care about how she looked, but it felt good to dress up once in a while. Special occasions only.
Seohyun sighed as she shut her notebook close and got up, stretching. She found herself going to the music room. There were no drums anymore to relieve her of her stress, but she supposed she could do with something else. The violin reminded her of San as she picked it up, and she kind of missed him, so she put that down. She went to the piano, and inhaled. She'd be playing it for the first time now, after Joon Hyuk.
She tested the keys; it sounded out of tune. But she let her fingers naturally roll over them, found herself playing a familiar tune, the one Joon Hyuk had taught her. She smiled as she played. It had truly been a while.
After she was done, she nodded as she figured out what she'd get Hongjoong and Wooyoung. Something they really needed.
-----------
"You're the best!" Wooyoung tackled Seohyun in a tight hug, making Seohyun yell as she tried to push him away.
"How did you come up with this idea?" Hongjoong asked as he admired the speakers in front of him.
"I noticed you could use speakers here without disturbing anyone. And with how loud you all are, you definitely needed it."
Seonghwa connected the speakers to his phone, blasting full volume as he checked them, his mouth turning into an O as he nodded in admiration. "They must have cost you quite a bit?"
"Oh, it's okay. Let's forget about that part," Seohyun waved him off, and Yunho ruffled her hair.
Mingi passed her a juice box and she sipped on it, checking the time. "I have to go now. Mom's coming home tonight."
"Do you want me to walk you home?" San asked.
"Oh, don't bother, enjoy these speakers," Seohyun said, giving him a fist bump as she left. She hummed along as she walked, but she had only taken one turn when she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye.
Another ghost? She had just dealt with one right after school, before joining the boys in the warehouse.
Something flashed right behind her and she whipped to her left, stumbling. She checked left and right but it seemed the ghost had disappeared. But something about its rotting scent was familiar-
Seohyun's breath left her as she was pushed, and she turned just in time so she'd hit the wall with the side of her body instead of face first. She winced in pain, pushing the hair out of her eyes. There was no one there.
But she didn't have to check who it was. The scent had been enough for her.
Seohyun contemplated running home or back to the warehouse. Ghosts couldn't enter property without the owner or mediator's permission, and since the warehouse was the closest, she decided she'd make a run for it.
She smelt it as she run, dodging one attack but getting scratched on the back near her shoulder with something sharp- she assumed it was nails. Seohyun ran faster; glad for all the running she'd done as a kid, wishing a good soul would appear and help her. But it was only her- a useless mediator with the power to only see and touch the ghosts, against a vengeful spirit.
Seohyun turned and she was in front of the warehouse. She could hear the music blast and she ran even faster if she could, until she came within what she assumed was the boundary of the property. She turned and indeed, she saw the woman, this time in the clear of the day. She wasn't sure if she could even call it a woman at this point; it was a tangle of overgrown hair, pale skin and dark eyes with purple lips. And long, long nails.
Seohyun shook her head as it disappeared and she stood in the middle of the road, contemplating once again if she should go home and risk encountering them again, or going to the warehouse, and encountering THEM.
She threw her hands in the air in frustration and went inside the warehouse.
"Oh, she's back-" Jongho paused mid-sentence as he saw the disheveled figure of Seohyun, with a bruise on her cheekbone.
Seohyun walked to them, looking at San whose eyes were wide. "It's her," she said, "the one from that hill."
San came to her, inspecting her face; the bruise was light, thankfully. "Are you hurt somewhere else?"
"On my back, I think," Seohyun turned her neck to see and indeed, her shirt was torn where those nails had scratched her. San took her to the sofa and Seonghwa brought a first aid kit, Seohyun eyeing it warily. "I should ask why you have a first aid kit."
"For a day like this, I suppose," Hongjoong said, handing her a glass of water. Seohyun looked at him once as she drank.
"How did she find you?" San asked, taking her hand and caressing it.
"It took her a while to find me, it's been more than two weeks."
"What happened?" Hongjoong asked and Seohyun explained, everyone sitting around her to hear her story.
"Why do ghosts start to look like that?" Yeosang asked.
"I don't exactly know, but time does that to them, I think."
"Don't they look scary?" Wooyoung asked.
"They look scary, but I think the fact that they were human once makes it less scarier to me?" Seohyun shrugged. She grabbed the ointment, applying it to the wound on her face. Then she looked at Seonghwa. "Is the wound on my back bad?"
Seonghwa peeked at what he could see from the torn part of her shirt, there were long cuts. "I think you should get them treated."
"Can you do something about it right now? I'll get them treated later," Seohyun said, biting her lip. Seonghwa nodded. He inspected her state, then said in a low voice, "You'll have to take off your shirt."
Seohyun groaned. At times like this, she really did miss Jiwoo.
"Or we can cut your shirt, since it's already torn," Seonghwa suggested, looking at her with a sad look in his eyes.
"I'll take it off," Seohyun said, "Let's not be awkward about this, okay? Which one of you is the best at first aid?"
"Seonghwa definitely," Mingi said.
"Should I do it?" San asked.
"You're the worst at it," Wooyoung muttered, making Seohyun scoff.
"It's just when it's someone I'm close to! I can't bear it!"
The two of them started to argue, and Seohyun decided to stop them. "I'd like you all to disappear to a corner while Seonghwa does his job. Give me some privacy. And San, you can stay if you want to."
The rest of the boys rushed away, and Seohyun bit her lip. "Not how you thought you'd see me without a shirt for the first time, eh San?"
Seonghwa went into a fit of coughs while San gaped at her statement, finally giving in after a few seconds and laughing, shaking his head. "You really pick the worst time for jokes."
"Alright, here goes," Seohyun turned her back to them and took off her shirt, San helping her hold her hair. She was left in a black bra. She wasn't flustered; not when the exposed wound left her skin stinging, and she sucked in her breath.
San helped her sit on the floor and she brought her arms to her chest, her hair covering the rest of her as Seonghwa carefully applied ointment on the three parallel scratches that ran from her shoulder all the way to the the middle of her back.
"She got you bad, Seohyun," San said worriedly, "what if she comes here?"
"She can't," Seohyun answered, "Can't enter property without owner or my permission."
"That's useful," Seonghwa muttered.
"That's actually handy, Seonghwa," Seohyun had noticed the sarcasm in his voice; she supposed he was angry at the whole situation. "I'm glad I was near when it happened." She rested her head on her knees, San watching Seonghwa apply bandages now, so careful with it. He was definitely being extra careful.
San went to get an extra shirt they had around for Seohyun, and Seonghwa finished up. Seohyun peeked at the bandages, impressed.
"Thanks, Seonghwa."
"Don't mention it," Seonghwa put the stuff back in the kit, "I wish you'd be more careful in the future."
"I can't help it, Seonghwa, believe me, I'm the most careful now," Seohyun said and Seonghwa locked his eyes with her.
"I just don't want to see you hurt, Seohyun-ah. It pains me."
"I know," Seohyun sighed, "I understand."
Seonghwa hesitated then patted her head. "I'm sure you did well back then," he smiled warmly.
"Finally. Thanks again," Seohyun laughed, and San was back. Seohyun took the shirt from him and wore it, standing up. "I'll take a taxi now."
"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" San asked.
"Oh no, it's okay now. She can't follow me in a taxi."
"Okay, at least let me walk you out."
Seohyun said thanks and bye to them all, and they told her to be careful. San and her walked out of the warehouse, and San grabbed her hand, bringing her in for a hug. Seohyun hugged him back, her arms on his back, smiling.
"Were you scared back then?" San asked.
"A little," Seohyun admitted, "Just glad I was near."
San broke the hug, putting her hair behind her ears, touching her cheek below the bruise. "Does it hurt?"
"This? Nope. The one in the back, yes, a little."
"Do get proper treatment," San said, looking at her worriedly.
"I will," Seohyun laughed, "Don't worry too much?"
"How can I not?" San shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her. "Your taxi's here."
------------
Seohyun reached home, cleaning the mess around the house, until she heard the sound of the door opening. Her mother was home.
Seohyun said hello and smiled at her. She looked nothing like her mom; she was tall, had pointy features and narrow eyes, and she looked sharp and intelligent. Her dark hair reached her shoulders. She put her handbag on the table and came to gave her a hug.
"How have you been?"
"Just the usual," Seohyun said, "What about you?"
"Ugh, I've been so busy," she said, collapsing on the sofa. "What do we have for dinner?"
"I'll set the table," Seohyun said. She had prepared her favourite dishes with the help of their previous housemaid, who she was still on good terms with. The old woman would drop by every once in a while, and she'd exchange her kimchi and some traditional dishes for Seohyun's pastas and desserts that she loved.
The mother and daughter caught up on studies and work as they ate. She told Seohyun she would have a busy time in the following month, but she'd try to come for her birthday, or else it was gonna be Christmas.
"How's the ghost business?" Her mother asked, drinking water.
"Was going well, until today I encountered an evil one," Seohyun said, "You'd have to help me with a wound I got on my back."
Her mother stared at her. "Are you alright?"
"Oh I am," Seohyun nodded, "I'll deal with her, I was just caught off-guard. She got me for a second."
"I hope you do," her mother said, "Tell me if you need help."
Seohyun smirked at her, "Wrong thing to say."
Her mother laughed, "Yeah, you probably know way more people than I do. Come on, let me have a look."
Seohyun showed her, and her mother winced. She helped change her bandages and gave her a doctor's information so she could visit and get treated, make up a story about how it was a stray dog or something. Seohyun thanked her, and after chatting a while, she left her to sleep.
"When will you return to work?" Seohyun asked.
"Tomorrow evening. I'll see you off for school in the morning. We'll see each other next month then."
"Oh, okay. Goodnight," Seohyun said, coming to her room and lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She wished she had stayed longer. But it was okay.
This was enough.
-----------------
A week had passed without further incidents. Seohyun was careful; she'd take taxi if she could, or she'd keep the sibling duo with her. She called them in, saying she'd owe them one if they could teleport her when needed. So the duo happily stick with her, saying they were bored of living in the hills and would like to visit a school too.
The boys had become friendly with the duo; they'd either communicate through San (who had given up now; he was quite tired of being their voice) or through the old-fashioned way: notebooks. They'd pretend to be studying in class when in fact they'd be having a conversation with the ghosts.
"I have a question," Yeosang said to Seohyun in the middle of class. Seohyun, who had been staring at Mingi and Gayoung conversing, looked at Yeosang.
"How would you get rid of old ghosts like the one you encountered?"
"Good question," Seohyun said, "There are a few options. I could try to talk sense into them. If that doesn't work, I get help from the good ghosts and threaten them. Like, every ghost had some sort of faith, right? Usually works if you use their god against them."
"But what if they have no faith anymore?"
"Goodnight, then, I guess," Seohyun said and Yeosang gasped. "You take help from actual exorcists then too. I once did. Got quite rough, but it works."
"Sounds dangerous," he muttered.
"Kind of," Seohyun agreed.
Seohyun was walking home after school with her new ghost friends when she sensed something amiss. "Just when I thought it was over."
Gayoung and Youngjae covered her back and front defensively. The woman appeared out of nowhere, stopping when she saw the ghosts.
"Well, well," she said, and Seohyun winced. Her voice sounded creepy. "What do we have here?"
"What do you want?" Seohyun asked.
"Death of you," the woman laughed, "Don't try to talk me out of it. You can't."
"What good is that gonna do to you?" Seohyun asked, genuinely curious.
The woman laughed again, this time sarcastically. "Don't tell me you didn't know? When a mediator dies, there is a short time period during which there is no other mediator in the world. That's when ghosts can do whatever they want; trespass, interact with humans, and much more."
"How is that true? I mean, if it were really true, more people would be trying to kill me, won't they?"
"Oh dear," the woman smiled this time, all knowingly, which sent chills throughout her body, "That's why it's a secret, isn't it?"
Gayoung and Youngjae shared looks. If it was true, they could interact with their parents, which was all they wanted. But they wouldn't harm Seohyun for that. Not after all she had done for them.
"I'll be back, girl," the woman's voice was sure, "When you least expect it. And I'll make sure I hear you screaming before you die."
The three of them watched as she gave her a long final look before she disappeared. They were quite for a few seconds and Seohyun caught her breath. "Don't tell me you both want to kill me now too."
"Oh, we wouldn't," Gayoung said, "We really wouldn't."
"You sound very assuring, noona," Youngjae said sarcastically, earning a tsk as he looked at Seohyun. "Let's get you home. We'll look for someone else who can get rid of that old bitch."
Seohyun nodded and they walked home, the duo arguing while Seohyun just walked blankly. She couldn't get the look the ghost had given out of her head. She sounded so sure. As if she had something already planned for her.
Seohyun sat in front of the TV for hours, her mind blank. All she could think was how her gut had felt when she'd said that. As if that was something that was bound to happen. Was she really gonna die?
Seohyun had never been too afraid of dying; not like an average person. For her, it was a life full of danger. She had welcomed and played with aspect of death. But her life had changed drastically over the past months. She had found people to live for. And that meant she was more scared this time.
Her phone buzzed and she read the text. It was from San asking if she wanted him to come over. Seohyun bit her lips in thought. Then she texted 'come over with chocolate ice cream please'.
And San did so. They sat on the sofa, watching TV and eating ice cream as they talked about this and that. Seohyun somehow found it very easy to talk to him, and so did San. He told her all about how he used to live in the countryside when he was little (hence the slight accent), he had mostly grown up with his grandparents because his parents were busy people.
"Don't you miss your parents when they're away?" Seohyun asked. Her ice cream was finished.
"I do, of course. Don't you?"
"I miss my mom sometimes," Seohyun admitted. "She's not as bad as you all think."
San gave her a pointed look and she threw a pillow at him, which he caught. "Come on, you have to admit. She talks to me. She let's me do normal stuff. She doesn't think I'm crazy. And she remembers my birthday every year. That's more than I can ask for."
"Don't you wish she did more?"
"I used to, but then I just accepted it. It's just the way it is."
San looked at her and spread his arms for her. She just threw another pillow at him, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious."
"Okay, okay. What about the ghost?"
"Well," Seohyun sighed and told him what had happened. San listened intently.
"Is there something we can do about it?" he asked.
"I'll go to that exorcist I know, but San," Seohyun turned to face him, "Something's different this time. I can't shake the feeling that something bad is gonna happen."
"It's probably just you overthinking?"
"No, it's different this time," Seohyun sounded sure, and San was actually surprised, "Something is gonna happen and it's gonna be bad. God, I want to cry."
San watched as she put her head in her hands, sighing. She heard San scoot over and she scooted away. "If you hug me now, I'm afraid I'll really cry."
"It's okay to cry, Seohyun, come here," San grabbed her arm and brought her in for a hug, and Seohyun let herself cry. It had been so long since she'd last cry.
"I'm sorry," Seohyun said, sniffing, "I miss Jiwoo a lot, if she was here, she would have handled this so well. I can't help but feel scared for you."
"Do you think something's gonna happen to me?" San asked as he patted her head.
"No. I don't know. I don't know and it's making me so frustrated," Seohyun said and cried harder. San only patted her back, muttering comforting words.
Seohyun drew back and wiped her face. "Sorry for crying on you."
"Anytime," San laughed. "I can understand that you're scared Seohyun, tell me what I can do for you."
"Just- stay with me. That's enough."
San nodded, taking her hand. "Do you want me to play something for you?"
Seohyun raised her brow, "Can you?"
"I can play the piano a little bit, unless you want me to play the violin and scare the dead away."
Seohyun laughed, "Let's go."
They went to the room, and San showed her what he'd learnt from Hongjoong of the piano. Seohyun appreciated the gesture, and on his insistence, she played the violin for him again, and he watched her adoringly.
When she was done, she put the violin down. "I came here a few days ago. I wanted to play the violin but I couldn't because it reminded me of you and I missed you. I played today. It seems like now I only play for you."
Seohyun was packing the violin when San hugged her from the back, his arms around her waist as he rocked them back and forth. Seohyun smiled. He was such a romantic.
"I like that," he whispered in her ear, making her laugh because it tickled. He nibbled on her ear, making her laugh.
"It's like the music room does something to you, San, you become such a romantic."
"I can assure you I'm the same anywhere else too," he said, still hugging her.
Seohyun looked at the clock. It was already 10 pm and they had no school tomorrow. She broke the hug and looked at him, his hands on her waist now.
"I know it's too much to ask, San, and I need you to give an honest answer, okay? I won't mind. But, can you... stay here tonight?" Seohyun almost whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again. "I'm just- I can't be alone tonight. I feel it. Something's gonna happen."
San touched her face, nodding. "Of course. If you want me to. I'll leave early in the morning."
Seohyun sighed in relief, a tear escaping her eye, "Thank you, San. Thank you."
San wiped the tear from her face. He felt scared about how she was feeling too. It was so unusual. Seohyun was always so strong, and she felt so... human. He couldn't leave her like this. He bent down and kissed her lips slowly, her arms going around his neck and her hands in his hair, clearly glad for the distraction.
She broke apart and took his hand, taking him to her bedroom, only the dim lamp on. She pushed him on the bed, surprising him, as she shut the door and kicked off her shoes, climbing on the bed and sitting on his lap. His arms were holding him from lying down and Seohyun went to cup his face and kiss him, so deeply as if she was saying her thanks through this. San's stomach turned, his heart beating wildly and he took the chance, taking one arm to grab her, but fell flat on the bed.
Seohyun was now on top of him. She stared at him for the longest time, and it made San feel so many different things. He saw the necklace he had given her dangling off her neck, and his hand went to touch it as a smile made its way on his face.
Seohyun smiled too then gave him soft pecks on his lips, both of them smiling through it. She was taking her sweet time and San had enough. He flipped her down, now on top of her, making her gasp in surprise as he smirked. But his smirked wiped off as she leaned forward and took his shirt off, running her hands through his toned body.
"Damn, San, I didn't know you worked out," Seohyun smirked.
San only smiled as he kissed her, loving the feeling of her hands all over him. His hands went to her waist and she broke apart for a second, motioning him to unbutton her shirt. San looked at her to make sure it was okay and she nodded, rolling her eyes but smiling.
"Is your wound okay now?" San asked as he unbuttoned her shirt.
"Probably left a scar," Seohyun muttered and he made her sit so he could check.
She was right. 3 parallel scratches had left their scar. It would take time to fade. "You reminded me of that ghost again, San. Distract me."
San kissed her bare shoulder, making her gasp, and kissed and nibbled on her neck, playing with her necklace. Seohyun moaned and felt San smile. She slapped his shoulder, making him laugh. "You asked for it," he said.
"I'm gonna make you moan so loud, Choi San-"
"Sshh," he said, kissing her passionately. Seohyun took that chance to bite on his lower lip while her hands gripped his waist now, and that earned her a moan. It was her turn to smile. San kissed her some more, before lying down with her, pulling the covers over them.
"It's late," he said, bringing her closer, "Sleep now."
"I don't wanna..." Seohyun said, putting her arm around him and kissed his neck, earning a sigh.
"I'm not gonna be able to stop if you keep doing that," San sighed. Seohyun melted at his words.
"Glad to know that," she whispered, but just hugged him, kissing his shoulder innocently now.
"I love you, San. You know that, right?"
"I know," he whispered back.
"I should tell you that everyday. Hell, I should have told you that everyday. I'm sorry."
"Seohyun," San made her face him, "You don't have to. I know that. You don't even have to say it out loud."
"Still," Seohyun said, "I should have told you that everyday."
San stared at her. He kissed her forehead and hugged her. "I love you too. And you know that right? I say it everyday, goofily, jokingly, or sometimes serious. But you still know it, even when I say it as a joke. That's because you know, just like I do."
Seohyun nodded. She buried her face in his chest, going under the covers, his arms securely around him.
"Goodnight, love." San whispered.
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fieryghxul · 4 years
Text
Margaritas, reunions and confessions. [a.h.]
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                                    ✧。:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:。✧
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Warning(s): fem!reader – dom!hotch (well i tried) – last season’s spoilers – drinking – cursing – smut –  unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it tho) – oral sex (fem receiving) – slight chocking – a bit fluff at the end.
A/N: hello everyone! this is super random but i came up with this in the middle of the night and i couldn't shake the idea out of my head. i am not a writer and english is not my first language so if there’s any mistake, i apologize in advance. also, this is my first hotch smut so i hope it’s good. enjoy!
                                     ✧。:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:。✧
[March 14th, 2020. 8:30 pm.]
“I have to go but promise me that you’re going to stop thinking about work and that you’re going to have fun these days.” You heard the pleading voice of Penelope Garcia on the phone as you walked out of the bathroom.
“I promise. I love you and I’ll see you when I get back.” You smiled and you knew that she was smiling too.
“It’s a date, angel. Love you more.” And with that, the line went silent.
You put your cell phone aside and took a look at the open suitcases on the bed. You didn't have anything planned but you knew you have to go out to clear your head and relax, things at work have been very stressful lately so when Prentiss told the team about taking some vacation time, you didn't hesitate to get a ticket and get on the first plane you found.
And that's why you were currently in a hotel room in Santorini, Greece. Yes, it seems like a lot, but nothing you can't afford.
A few minutes later, you finished applying some mascara and lip gloss, and took a few steps back to stare at yourself in the mirror. The navy-blue self-tie slit dress hugged every curve of your body perfectly; you paired it with a pair of black heels and a black jacket, just in case it gets cold at night. After taking one last look and smiling slightly at the reflection, you turned to grab your bag and left the room, hoping to have a good night once you were out of the hotel.
                                                       ▪ ▪ ▪
People flooded the streets and it was understandable, the night was really beautiful, there was a light breeze and the full moon was perfectly reflected in the sea. You have been walking for almost 2 hours, taking photos of almost everything and enjoying the night until you came across a bar, the word "cocktail" in the name of the place definitely caught your attention so you didn't think twice before walking into the place.
You walked to the bar and waited for the bartender to come up to you. While you were waiting, you could feel the back of your neck burning, someone was watching you but you didn’t want to deal with anyone yet, so you just ignored it, concentrating on reading the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order.
“Good evening, ma'am. Are you ready to order?” You look up from the menu, a brunette in her 20s is at the other side of the bar was smiling at you.
“Uh, yes, a margarita would be fine.” You ordered, mirroring her smile, and the girl gave you a little nod before walking away.
In the meantime you took your phone out of your bag and opened the ‘bau ladies’ group chat to send one or two of the photos you took a few hours ago with a “next time, i’m bringing all of your cute asses with me.” below them.
JJ was the first to reply, “oh my god, it’s gorgeous!”
Followed by Emily’s “look at that and some of us are still doing paperwork :( get drunk on my behalf please.”
You chuckled under your breath at her text and the margarita arrives just in time, “i’m on it, boss ;) isn't it a little late to be doing paperwork?"
Penelope replies next, “paperwork hahaha what a weird way to spell tara’s name“ and two “PENELOPE!” appear automatically in chat.
“you two are so obvious and spencer owns me 20 now.” You hit the send button before graving the margarita, taking a few sips of it. It takes about 3 minutes for your phone to vibrate again and you were about to answered but you are interrupted by the bartender.
“From the man at that table, ma'am.” She says placing another margarita in front of you and discreetly pointing at one of the tables that were on the patio of the place, you turned around but the only thing you see from the bar is his back. “Don’t worry; it doesn’t have anything weird on it.”
“Thank you...” The bartender walks away again and you stare at the drink, debating for a moment about whether or not to go and face the mysterious man. Fuck it. You decided before putting you phone back in your bag, forgetting about the messages and graving that and the drink before making your way to the table.
“Uh,” you cleared your throat once you reached said table, "can I seat here or are you waiting for someone?"
“Please.” He murmur in a low voice while gesturing toward the empty chair, indicating that you can sit down and a strange feeling of familiarity floods your body at that gesture. You shock your head trying to ignore that before placing your bag aside and sitting down in front of the man.
“I just wanted to thank you for the—“
The words got stuck on your throat and the world seemed to have stopped when you finally laid your eyes on the suited man that you thought you'd never see again.
Holy shit.
You stood still, a part of you fearing that if you moved he might disappear. Your face probably showing clear signs of confusion and shock as Aaron Hotchner sit right there in front of you.
He still looked serious and intimidating, his gaze reimaging cold to those who didn't know him and you remember all of those times you teased him about being a robot, there were times when you actually managed to make him laugh.
Yet at the same time there was something different about him. There was a different glow around him, he seems more relaxed and you could see it in his expressions, even in his posture.
“Hello, Y/N.” Hotchner said, voice still low but strong enough to bring you back to the present.
“Hey.” You said, still processing the fact that he was here with you and in the most unexpected place. “I, uh, it’s been a long time.”
“Almost 3 years.” He said before taking a sip of the glass that rested on his hand, you assumed that it was scotch.
3 years in 6 months, 13 days, 1 hour and 65 seconds. Give it or take.
“Almost, yeah… so what are you doing here?” You asked, “I mean, you were more a city type of guy.”
“I still am, Y/N, but Jack and Jessica insisted on me going on a little vacation because apparently it’s been a while since I had some ‘me-time’.”
Your face light up a bit at the mention of the kid, Hotch noticed it. “How’s Jack? I can barely remember when the last time I saw him was was but he must be so big now.”
“He’s 14 and almost as tall as me.” A smile appeared on Hotch's face, he didn't used to smile a lot and you thought it was a bit normal considering the work that you two shared, but those times that he did you used to felt butterflies in your stomach. Still do apparently. “What about you? What are you doing here? I mean, you were more a city type of girl.”
You chuckled softly when you heard him repeating your words and you shrugged slightly, “I'm having some vacation time, it's rare to have free time at the BAU, you know? So when you do, you take it without thinking twice.”
“How’s the team doing?”
“Good. We're working on some things, going through a few changes, the usual I guess.” This time it was you who drank, taking a long sip of the margarita that was still in your hands.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Do you want to hear me talk about it?”
“Of course, unless, do you have somewhere else to be, Y/N?”
“Not anymore. We might need a few more of this though.” You pointed to the drinks on the table and flashing him a smile, catching a glimpse of his before calling the bartender and ordering another round of drinks.
And then you started talking, Hotch listening carefully to every word that came out of your mouth. You started with the cult that kidnapped Spencer and Garcia and then launching into the saga of the Everett Lynch a.k.a "The Chameleon", you mentioned how Emily is now shortlisted to be the next FBI director and how she would name JJ as the next unit chief of BAU unit, but that remains to be seen; you also talked about Garcia leaving the team to work in Silicon Valley and Hotch noticed the sad tone in your voice when you mentioned that but in part he was happy that everyone was moving forward with their lives, making new decisions and following different paths. You continued with Spencer being a consultant and teaching at the same time and finished with Rossi getting married again then talking about retirement but not fully doing it.
“That’s because Rossi’s never going to retired.” You and Hotch said in unison, laughing after noticing that.
“A lot of things had happened then.” He said, not very surprise and titling his head to one side, you nodded mutely. “But you forgot of someone, Y/N.”
“I did?”
“Yes, you. What about you? How are you?” He asked, his tone of voice changing to a concerned one.
“Oh… I, uh, I’m good.” You began but more hesitant this time, “I will never get used to the changes but its part of life so I just have to suck it up and live with it. I don’t have an outer motive yet so I'm not leaving the BAU, that's for sure. I always knew that that's where I belong and I can’t even bring myself to think about other options.”
“You have always been an important asset to the team, Y/N. The BAU is still lucky to have you.” Hotch said, still sounded like the boss but you didn’t comment anything out loud about it. Instead, you smiled kindly at him and both went silent after that, staring at each other every now and then and finishing the rest of your drinks. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one of the many that you two used to share while working together in the office or in the long nights in the jet after finishing a case.
Your gaze swept over the bar, noticing the few people that was still there and the employees staring to clean up the place. You took at deep breath, pulling out your wallet.
“Well, Hotch, this was fun. Unexpected but fun.” You left some money under your empty cup, paying for your part of the drinks and Hotch did the same thing. “I should get going now, so—“
“Let me walk you over to your hotel.” He cut you off, grabbing his blazer from the chair and turning to look at you.
“Hotch you don’t ha—“
“Please, Y/N. I insist.” He said and his voice serious once again, just like when he used to get too bossy with the team but with a smile that contradicted that tone and you couldn’t say “no” to that.
“Alright, Sir. Let’s go.”
You grabbed your things and started walking out of the bar, Hotchner walking behind you.
                                                          ▪ ▪ ▪
The walk back to the hotel was shorter than you thought; maybe it was because you were so focused on Hotchner and the small talk that you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.
“Thank you, Aaron.” You murmur while grabbing the room key from you bag, “But you didn’t have to come up here though.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
You could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't dare to do it and it doesn't feel good to pressure him, so you settled for just smiling at him.
And in that moment, standing in outside of you room and looking closely at him, you realized how much you missed him. You didn’t admitted that out loud after he left the BAU, you couldn’t do it because you also never fully admitted your feeling for him. Partially it was your fault, feelings were never your thing and you were afraid of what might happen if you confronted him about it so looking for excuses and reasons to not doing it always seemed easier.
For a while you truly did believed that it was just a stupid crush on your boss, something temporary, until the days turned into weeks and then months, years even, but then… he was gone.
You couldn’t really blame him for that though; he had a good reason for leaving so suddenly.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Hotch finally mumbled.
You looked at him in confusion, “For what?”
“Leaving.”
“You did it to protect Jack; it was the right thing to do.” You reassure him with a smile, you unconsciously took his hand in yours. He didn’t pull away. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping your son safe, Hotch.”
“I know, choosing to be a full time dad to Jack is something I do not regret. It was something that we both needed it, especially after everything that happened with Haley.” You gulped at the mention of the name, remembering how devastated he was after her death. He took a deep breath, “But what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I didn't came back to you or the team, I should at least have called to let you know that we were fine but I got so caught up with the mundane life that it was a little too late by the time I realized about everything I left behind.”
To you.
Those two little words echoed in your head as you look at those chocolate eyes that used to drive you crazy without knowing it. You noticed that he was even closer now, slightly towering over you. It’s now or never, Y/N. You thought to yourself before speaking.
“I waited for you. I never told anyone but for a whole I waited for you to come back, hoping one day to see your demanding self in an expensive suit walking through the BAU doors again but deep down I knew that eventually I had to let you go.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding until now and smiled sadly, “That was easier said than done considering that I never stopped thing about it, about you. Because the true is that I loved you, Aaron. Maybe I still fucking do… but I doubt that this makes any difference now because maybe you never saw me in the same way that I saw you or just because it’s a little too late now.”
You finished and Hotch frowned, probably processing what you just admitted to him. He was silent for a few more seconds and you took it as your cue, letting go of his hand and turning around to open the door of you room. “I had an amazing night, thank you. See you around.”
But before you could even step foot in the room, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist and your chest hitting his. The next thing you knew after that was that his lips were on yours.
Aaron Hotchner was fucking kissing you after admitting your feelings for him.
He pulled away before you could react properly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours; this time he looked at you in a way that you had only fantasized about until now, there was love and lust on them and you could feel it, just all those feelings that you tried so hard to keep locked in the deepest part of you.
And that's all you needed before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing him again, in a matter of seconds you two were inside the room. His lips were warm and the kiss quickly turned into a desperate one once the door was locked behind you, you could already feel yourself melting in his arms.
You didn’t even realize how it happened, but in one quick moment you were being totally pinned against the door with Aaron holding you by your thighs as your legs were wrapped around his waist. The position was now lifting your short dress, leaving your thighs even more naked but you didn't mind considering that now you could perfectly feel Aaron's hand caressing your hot skin. You move your hands from his shoulders to his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt and stripping him off it, dropping the piece of clothing somewhere in the room. As you were doing that, he broke the kiss and moved his lips to your neck, nipping and teasing the area just under your ear, turning you into a moaning mess almost immediately. The sounds being like music to his ears.
“Aaron , please.“ You moaned, this was good but you need it more. You needed him.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” He asks, slightly biting the skin of your neck and you bite your bottom lip.
“Please, Sir. Fuck me.” You let out, noticing a sparkle in his eyes that you've never seen before and that only turned you on even more.
“Since you ask so nicely…” He said before walking to the other side of the room where the was a big bed in the center of it, Aaron kissed you lips and put you down in front of him, his hands moving to the zipper of your dress. “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”
“You’re kidding, right?” You asked and Aaron stares deeply at you, the sudden seriousness on his eyes making you gulp. You nodded.
“Words, Y/N. I need words.”
“I’m sure of this, yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Fuck, he was hot.
“Yes, sir.”
He bent down, his hands working on your zipper as he whisper “Good girl.” in your ear and you bite your lip once more, muffling down a moan.
He finally pulled down your dress, tossing it onto the floor completely and leaving you with only your red lace underwear; you weren't wearing a bra tonight, so you were much more exposed to him than you thought. He took one really good look at you before throwing you onto the bed, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Guess that we’re done playing around.
He kneels down on the bed, moving your legs with his knees and positioning himself between them. His hands are caressing your legs again, making their way up to the sides of your body and he leans in, kissing you again, your hands flew up to grab his hair, eagerly responding the kiss. You didn’t care how needy you seem right now, you’ve been waiting year for this, fantasizing about it, and now you had it, not really knowing for how long and that only gave you more reasons to enjoy every second of it.
“You know?,” Aaron began, his lips leaving yours and making his way down your neck, placing kisses all over your skin, “if I had know about how much you wanted me, I’ve would done something about it earlier.”
“Yeah?” You asked, arching your back as he bites one of your nipples gently, his other hand working on the other one.
“I would've pinned you down on my desk and take you right there on the office, baby. Not caring about anyone who could hear us.” He casually said, like he thought about it before and you moaned. You definitely thought about that particular situation too.
When he finally reached the place where you needed the most, he stopped and you were about to complain but Aaron shut you up by grabbing your ankles and yanking you down the end of the bed. He kneels again, parting your legs a bit more, placing one of your legs over his broad shoulders and kissing you inner thighs, slowly making his way to your soaked panties.
“I barely touch you and you’re so wet for me already?” Hotchner asked teasingly, rubbing circles with his thumb on your clit but over the fabric before taking a hold of them and ripping them out. And with no more words, Hotch held both your legs open and buried his face between them, making you moan in a matter of seconds.
He swept his tongue over you pussy swiftly, tasting my arousal first and groaning again your skin. A shiver ran through you as he stared circling your clit with his tongue and then moving down between your folds before going up again, alternating his speed and pressure.
When you thought that it couldn’t get better, Aaron proved you wrong by teasing your entrance with one of his finger and looking up at you, locking his eyes with yours. He wanted to see your reaction. You try to maintain the eye contact as he slowly started pumping his finger in and out of you, curling them an hitting the right spot, a string of cursings leaving your mouth.
It didn’t take much for your legs to start shaking around his head, the knot forming on your lower stomach.
“I’m- fuck, I’m close.” You breathed betweens moans and just when you were about to reach your high, he pulled away.
“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” He shortly kissed your mouth and you tasted yourself in his before he got up off bed, his hands immediately went to unbuckle his belt and now you took your time to watch him. From his messy hair, to the red marks on his shoulders caused by your heels -oops- and then stopped at the large bulge formed in his pants, you groaned at the sight of that.
Fuck, he is big. God, if you weren't so desperate to feel him inside you, you wouldn't hesitate to drop on your knees and start sucking him.
“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?” He asked with a smirk on his face while taking off the rest of his clothes.
“Just fuck me already, please.” You begged and he positioned himself between your legs again, but he was hesitant. “Hotch?”
“I don’t have condom on me and I doubt that you have one, Y/N. I’m clean but if you—”
“I’m clean too and on the pill so don’t worry.” You smiled at him and gave a little nod.
And apparently he was as desperate as you because at all at once, Hotch took grip of your hips and pushed inside you. You immediately arched your back, moaning loudly in both pain and pleasure, your hands grabbing the sheets at your side. You were surprise that you didn’t ripped them apart yet.
“Fuck, Hotchner.” You screamed and he didn’t move for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. He really is big.
“You’re so thigh, baby.” He moaned in your ear, the raspy voice sending shocks straight to your core. He was capable of making you cum by just talking.
That’s how much power he had.
And then he finally started moving, pounding in and out of you slowly at first and working his way up, picking up a pace that had you both groaning and moaning.
“F-fuck, Y/N. I love hearing you scream my name.” His lips attacked your neck again and you threw your head back against the pillows, giving him all the space that he needed to play with your neck. And he took this as a perfect opportunity to sneak his hand around it, squeezing under your jaw around enough for your eyes to roll back in total pleasure as you instinctively wrapped your finger around his wrist, holding him in place. You didn’t expect him to be into chocking but you were definitely not against it.
“Harder, S-sir. Please.”
“You’re taking it so good, just like I expected it.” He growled, pulling away enough to look at the whimpering mess that you were right now, his hand never leaving your neck as he pounded even harder into you with every word. “Calling me ‘sir’ and everything, I didn’t even had to ask you to do that. You’re such a slutty responsive whore for me, aren’t you Y/N?”
The sudden dirty words coming out of your ex-boss’s mouth did nothing but to turn you on even more, if that was possible at this point. You weren’t able to form a proper sentence so you limited to nodding and moaning his name. He didn’t like that.
“I asked you a fucking question, sweetheart, answered it.”
“Y-yes, I am, S-sir.” You chocked, the knot on your stomach forming once more and by the way that his pace flickered you knew that he was close too. “I’m close, Aaron.”
“Then cum for me, baby.” He commanded, continuing his thrusts and you were already oversensitive from his earlier work so it didn’t took you long before you started clenching around him.
“Fuck, Aaron.”
“Say it louder, Y/N.”
“Aaron!” He bottom out inside of you again and you moaned loudly one last time as your body reached its limit, hitting your climax with every nerve in you tired body.
“That’s a good girl.” He said between moans, his dick twitching softly as he release himself inside of you with one last and hard thrust.
He let go of your throat but didn’t’ pull out immediately after that. His breathing was a little erratic, his lips were red and swollen, and there was a thin layer of sweat all over his body. He looked disturbingly hot.
Of course he did. He’s Aaron fucking Hotchner.
It was as if these last 3 years had never existed.
Neither of you said a word as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom of the room to grabbed a wet towel to clean you up, doing the same thing on him before putting back his boxers, you didn’t have the strength to grab your clothes so you just put the sheets of the bed on top of you, covering you nudity.
“Oh, sp now you’re shy?” He snorted, chuckling softly and you smiled.
“Shut up and come here.” You patted the bed and he didn’t hesitate on laying next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You felt safe, like there’s was nowhere else you rather be in that moment.
“Thank you.” He whispered after a moment breaking the silence, his face resting on your shoulder.
“For what?”
“For all of… that.”
“You’ve always have such a ways with words, Hotch.” You chuckled as you looked down at him. “Thank you for ordering my margarita in the first place.”
“It was a pleasure.”
“It really was, wasn’t it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him in a playful way.
“How long are you staying here, Y/N?” He finally asked and you let out a tiny sigh at the question.
You knew you weren't here for a long vacation and neither was Aaron, you two have your lives outside this room , but being here now felt so good and peaceful. So… right. This, also, was probably a one-time thing, something that was destined to happen eventually, no matter how long it took.
But you didn’t want- no, you couldn’t face the fact that you may have to let him go again. Especially not after what just happened. I mean, how could you?
And little did you know that Aaron was feeling the exact same thing.
“Enough not to have to worry about it right now.” You answered with a shrug while your fingertips trace invisible circles on his back.
“Good. I can live with that, for now at least.” And then he broke the comfortable embrace by getting up and out of the bed, you furrowed you eyebrows and he extended on his hands towards you, “Come on, let’s take a shower so we can sleep properly.”
“Yes, sir.” You took his hand, getting up with his help and trying your best not to limp as you made your way to the bathroom, “By the way, where are you staying while you’re here?”
He turned around at the question, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing your lips before using a more serious tone to say, “In the room above this one.”
Of course he was. You thought while you watched as he began to prepare the bath for the both of you.
Funny how destiny works sometimes.
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Note
Is the popular headcanon that Nicky was illiterate, stupid and barbaric fitting in the stereotypes about Southern Europeans / Mediterraneans ? I’m guessing it’s from the American part of the fandom that’s choosing to not respectfully write Nicky since he is white while being virulent towards anybody that doesn’t perfected and accurately write Joe because he is MENA.
Hello!
Mind you, I am neither a psychologist, a sociologist nor a historian, so of course be aware these are my own views on the whole drama.
But to answer your question, yes, I personally think so. It definitely comes from the American side, but I have seen Northern Europeans do that too, often just parroting the same type of discourse that Anglos whip out every other day.
There is an abysmal ignorance of Medieval history – even more so when it concerns countries that are not England: there is this common misconception that Europe in the Middle Ages was this cultural backwater full of semi-barbaric people that stems unfortunately not only from trying to (correctly) reframe colonialist approaches to the historiographies of non-European populations (that is, showing the Golden Age of Islamic culture, for instance, as opposed to what were indeed less culturally advanced neighbours), but also from distortions operated by European themselves from the Renaissance onwards, culminating in the 18th century Enlightenment philosophes categorising the Middle Ages as the Dark Ages.
Now this approach has been time and time again proven to be a made-up myth. I will not go into detail to disprove each and every single one misconception about the Medieval era because entire books have been written, but just to give you an example: there was no such a thing as a ius primae noctis/droit du seigneur; people were aware that the Earth was not flat (emperors, kings, saints, etc, they were depicted holding a globe in their hands); people were taking care of their hygiene, either through the Roman baths, or natural springs, or private tubs that the wealthier strata of the population (and especially the aristocracy) owned. The Church was not super happy about them not because it wanted people to remain dirty, but because often these baths were for both men and women, and it was not that in favour of them showing off their bodies to one another. Which, you know, we also don’t do now unless you go to nudist spas. It was only during the Black Death in the 14th century that baths were slowly abandoned because they became a place of contagion, and they went into disuse (or better, they changed purpose and became something like bordellos). And, lastly, there was certainly a big chunk of the population that was illiterate, but certainly it was not the clergy, which was THE erudite class of the time. It was in monasteries and abbeys that knowledge was passed and preserved (as well as lost unfortunately often, such as the case for the largest part of classical literature).
So what does this mean? According to canon, Nicolò was an ex priest who fought in the First Crusade. This arguably means that at the very least he was a cadet son of a minor noble family (or a wealthy merchant one) who was part of the clergy. As such, historically he could have been neither illiterate nor a dirty garbage cat in his daily life.
Let’s then talk geography. Southern Europe (and France) was far, far more advanced than the North at the time and Italy remained the cultural powerhouse of the continent until the mid-17th century. Al Andalus in the Iberian Peninsula, the Italian States,  the Byzantine Empire (which called itself simply Roman Empire, whose population defined itself as Roman and cultural heirs of the Latin and Greek civilisations): these places have nothing to do with popular depictions of Medieval Europe that you mainly see from the Anglos. Like @lucyclairedelune rightfully pointed out: not everyone was England during the plague.
Also the Middle Ages lasted one thousand years. As a historical age, it’s way longer than anything we had after that. So of course habits varied, there was a clear collapse right after the fall of the Western Roman Empire, but then things develop, you know?
Anyway, back to the point in question. Everything I whipped up is not arcane knowledge: it’s simply having studied history at school and spending a few hours reading scientific articles on the internet which are not “random post written by random Anglo on Tumblr who can hardly find Genoa on a map”.
Nicolò stems from that culture. The most advanced area in Europe, possibly a high social class, certainly educated, from Genoa, THE maritime superpower of the age (with…Venice). It makes absolutely no sense that he would not be able to speak anything past Ligurian: certainly Latin (the ecclesiastical one), maybe the koine Greek spoken in Constantinople, or Sabir, or even the several Arabic languages from the Med basin stretching from al Andalus to the Levant. Because Genoa was a port, and people travel, bring languages with them, use languages to barter.
And now I am back to your question. Does this obstinacy in writing him as an illiterate beast (basically) feed into stereotypes of Mediterranean people (either from the northern or the southern shore)? It does.
It is a typically Anglo-Germanic perspective that of describing Southern (Catholic) Europeans are hot-headed, illiterate bumpinks mindlessly driven by blind anger, lusts and passions, as opposed to the rational, law-abiding smart Northern Protestants. You see it on media. I see it in my own personal life, as a Southern Italian living in Northern Europe for 10 years.
Does it sound familiar? Yes, it’s the same harmful stereotype of Yusuf as the Angry Brown Man. But done to Nicolò as the Angry Italian Man (not to mention the fact that, depending on the time of day and the daily agenda of the Anglo SJW Tumblrite, Italians can be considered either white or non-white).
Now, the times where Nicolò is shown as feral are basically when he is fighting (either in a bloody war or against Merrick’s men) or when Yusuf is in danger. Because, guess what, the man he loves is being hurt. What a fucking surprise.
Nicolò is simply being reduced to a one dimensional stereotype of the dirty dumb angry Italian, and people are simply doing this because they do not seem to accept the fact that both he and Yusuf are two wonderfully complex, flawed, fully-fledged multidimensional characters.
So I am mainly concentrating on Nicolò here because as an Italian I feel more entitled to speak about the way I see the Anglo fandom treating him and using stereotypes on him that have been consistently applied to us by the Protestant Northerners. I keep adding the religious aspect because, although I am an atheist who got debaptised from the Catholic Church, a big part of the historical treatment towards Southern has to do with religion and the contempt towards Catholic rituals and traditions (considered, once again, a sign of cultural backwardness by the enlightened North).
I do not want to impose my view of Yusuf because there are wonderful Tumblr users from MENA countries who have already written wonderful metas of the way Yusuf is being depicted by non-MENA people (in particular Americans), especially (again) @lucyclairedelune and @nizarnizarblr.
However, I just want to underline that, by only ever writing Yusuf as essentially a monodimensional character without a single flaw, this takes away Yusuf’s canon multidimensionality, the right he has to feel both positive but also negative feelings (he was hurt and angry at Booker’s betrayal, allegedly his best friend, AND HE HAD EVERY RIGHT TO BE – and I say this as a Booker fan as well).
I have not been the first to say these things, it is nothing revolutionary, and it exactly complements what the MENA tumblr users in the TOG fandom have also been trying to say. Both of us as own voices people who finally have the chance to have two characters that are fully formed and honest representations of our own cultures, without stereotypes or Anglogermanic distortions.
And the frustration mounting among all of us comes from the fact that the Anglos are, once again, not listening to us, even telling us we are wrong about our own cultures (see what has happened to Lucy and Nazir).
What is even more frustrating is that everything in this cursed fandom – unless it was in the film or comics – is just a bloody headcanon. But these people are imposing their HCs as if it were the Word of God, and attacking others – including own voices MENA and Italians – for daring to think otherwise.
I honestly don’t expect this post will make any difference because this is just a small reflection of what Americans do in real life on grander scale, which is thinking they are the centre of the world and ignoring that the rest of the world even exists regardless of their own opinions on it.
But still, sorry for the length, hope I answered your question.
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nataliedanovelist · 3 years
Text
GF - Mystery Twins: Not Freaking Out
A new AU inspired by Mystery Skulls…
AO3 link
Ch.1
~~~~~~~~~~
April 6th, 1972
“What?! Stanford, tell him he’s crazy!”
But Ford glanced down at his navy-blue pamphlet, wincing, and closed the curtains, purposely keeping his eyes off his brother.
“Stanford? Don’t leave me hanging?” Stanley croaked. “High six?”
And the door was slammed in his face by his father’s hand, deaf to the wails of his nephew and the choked sobs from his mother.
Stanley growled in his throat. “Fine! I can make it on my own! I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone! I’ll make millions and you’re RUE the day you turned your back on me!”
~~~~~~~~~~
May 14th, 1976
Fiddleford had insisted that he and Stanford go out to celebrate their upcoming graduation. In a few days they would no longer be students, ready to use what they learned out in the real world. Stanford was reluctant, but agreed. What were the odds anything outside of a few drinks and some good food would occur? Stanford had a lot to drink for and it did seem like he never left campus for some typical college fun, so he took a shot and then stuck to some cozy beer and some onion rings.
After fleeing Columbia prison with a gang, and then weaseling his way out of that mess in New Mexico, Stanley had been apprehensive about trying to make it big in southern California, not knowing much about Stanford’s new life, but he did know that’s where he was going to college; Moses bless Ma and her phone calls. But what were the odds Stanley would ever run into his brother? He needed the money so he took the shot. 
At first, Stanford thought it was his imagination and he nearly choked on his beer while Fiddleford was busy talking to a guy who was also from Tennessee. A second, longer look confirmed his fears and Stanford saw his long-lost family member exit the bar, leaving behind a small table with a few empty beers on it to smoke.
With Stanley’s back to him, Stanford studied him through the glass. His hair was a bit longer than how he kept it in high-school and it wasn’t slick back tonight; probably from holding his head so much. From what Stanford had seen before Stanley had leaned against the window, his face wasn’t as round and youthful as it was four years ago; he had grown a square jaw like Pa’s. Like Stanford’s. His skin was rough and scraggly, unlike Stanford who was clean-shaved, and he wore work boots, dirty jeans, and a worn white t-shirt. Stanley Pines looked rough around the edges, but when he re-entered the bar Stanford saw that spark in his brown eyes that guaranteed a heart made of plastic gold and a promise to protect the things he cares about.
Stanford wanted to be angry. He wanted to shake his rage, punch the jerk in the face, and leave for campus. But he couldn’t. He was too relieved to see his brother alive and a very very small part of him had missed him like crazy these last four years. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive Stanley for what he did, but maybe if he was ready to apologize, Stanford could be ready.
Stanley’s eyes landed on Stanford on his way to his table and he froze like a statue and paled three sheets. Stanford wondered if Stanley would pass out and he could feel himself turn red with embarrassment. He bit his lip and tried to move his own eyes to the six-fingered hand around his drink, but his mind stayed on Stanley and the corner of his eye kept him in view.
Stanley looked ready to walk out the door, but with a sigh he returned to his table. Stanford could feel Stanley staring at his back; he let him; it was only fair that Stanley got to absorb Stanford’s appearance since he had his fill of how much Stanley had changed. He was bigger than he was in high-school, taller and slightly thicker maybe, but not nearly as muscular as his twin. Stanford’s hair was still an uncontrollable fluffy mess and he still wore glasses, and today he wore clean jeans with black sneakers to go with his black t-shirt that was covered by a brown jacket with tons of pockets.
Stanford couldn’t stand his brother looking at him and not looking back for too long. When he looked at Stanley, a waitress was picking up the empty glasses. Stanford watched Stanley hold up two fingers, the waitress nodded and said something he could hear across the bar, and she left. Stanley looked at Stanford, their eyes meeting, and he gestured casually for Stanford to join him at his two-person table and looked away, waiting for Stanford to either accept or reject the invitation. After taking a deep breath, Stanford swallowed one last mouthful of his drink, wiped his lips dry, and made himself walk to his brother’s table.
If either of them thought things were awkward before the moment Stanford sat in the empty chair, the atmosphere became even thicker and the room suddenly felt even warmer. None of them said a word and remained silent until the waitress came by with two more beers. While Stanford quietly thanked her, Stanley gulped his down. Stanford snorted with a small smile as he brought his glass up to his lips. The drink half-empty, Stanley slammed his down, gave a small grunt, and spat out, “So, what’s the word, Sixer?”
Stanford smiled as he slowly began to spill about college and his new friends. Well, more like best friend and acquaintances, but his status was much better than it was in high-school and he was much happier. Stanley nearly choked on his beer when Stanford mentioned his twelve PhDs and he immediately congratulated him and told him how proud he was; he even ordered two shots to celebrate with. Stories of college were swapped for stories of Stanley’s travels and before either brothers knew it, it was almost like nothing had ever happened. (This was probably thanks to the alcohol in their systems, but let’s not ruin a good thing.)
As less and less people crowded the bar and the drinks started to slow down, more and more was said between the pair of twins and it was almost too easy with how things flowed. Eventually they were the only ones at the bar and they could tell the staff was waiting for them to leave so they could close, so they decided to go for a walk to keep the good conversation going. It seemed like nothing could end such a surprisingly successful night until the hairs on the back of Stanley’s neck stood up and he looked over his shoulder.
Four dreary shadows followed them in the dead of night, but Stanley recognized them instantly. He tried to get Stanford to leave, but the eldest twin refused, no matter how hard the younger one pushed. Stanley stopped trying when Stanford gritted through his teeth, “I won’t abandon you again, Lee.”
The twins may have been out-numbered, but the gang was out-matched. After a few scrapes and close calls, the Pines twins left the goons on the sidewalk and ran before the cops could be called. One look at Stanley while under a lamppost and Stanford saw how badly his brother was beaten, so he forced him onto a trolley for Backupsmore and took him up to his dorm, where a first-aid kit sat under his bed.
Stanford ignored the fact that Fiddleford wasn’t back while he fixed Stanley up. He also ignored his twin’s groveling, claiming he could take care of himself, but Stanley had a broken nose and needed the extra pair of hands to snap his bones back into place. When all was said and done and Stanley’s schnoz had quit bleeding, Stanford filled an ice pack and made his twin lay down on his bed so he could rest. That was when Stanley spat out what had been on his mind all night.
“Why do you even care?” His eyes were covered by his beefy arm, making his expression hard to read. “Aren’t you mad at me?”
Stanford stared. Had he really made it seem he was so angry at Stanley he wouldn’t help him? “I… Yes. Yes, I’m still mad at you, but… but I…” He stumbled over his words and swallowed, the ice pack making his fingers numb.
Stanley peeked at his brother and sighed. “I’m mad, too… but I missed you so much that I ain’t got the time to be mad. You get what I’m sayin’?”
Stanford smiled and could feel a hundred pounds being lifted from his shoulders. “I think so. I might be angry at you for what you did, but I’m at a point in which I don’t care. At least, not as much as I care about getting my brother back.” He added nervously.
Stanley finally returned the smile. “Yeah. Me too.” And he accepted the ice pack and placed it on his head to help with the ache.
The next morning, Fiddleford tiptoed into his dorm and was surprised to find Stanford asleep on the floor, sitting with his arms-crossed on the bed, and a stranger on Stanford’s bed, one of his hands in Stanford’s hair. But a closer look told Fiddleford that the stranger was family and so he left them alone without a single sound.
~~~~~~~~~~
“No way?!” Stanley reread the check his brother handed to him. His eyes were particularly drawn to all those zeros, but he also checked the address and such and such. He grinned proudly and handed the slip of paper back with a playfully shove of his twin’s shoulder. “Congrats, Sixer!”
“Thank you, Stanley.” Stanford replied with rosy cheeks, pocketing the check in his brown jacket. “Now I just have to decide on what to study and how I’ll study it.”
“You’ll figure something out.” Stanley said as he munched on his bacon, happy to sit at a breakfast joint with his brother and just casually talk about life and junk. He didn’t need anything else. “Stanford Pines always thinks of a way.”
Stanford chuckled nervously, then changed the subject. “So, how do you like San Francisco?”
“It’s nice.” Stanley muttered with a shrug. “Not gonna lie, much of what I’ve already seen. Big city on water. It’s a lot nicer than Columbia, for sure, but it’s okay.” Stanford didn’t miss how uncomfortable he was about the subject, which made him only more sure what he was about to say was the right thing.
“I… I think I’ve decided what I want to study.”
Stanley grinned, his spirit much higher. “That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s hear it!”
“Well, when I was thinking about it, I couldn’t help but remember how I had always been teased for my six fingers.” Stanford started, raising a hand and wiggling his fingers. “But that got me thinking about anomalies.” And he pulled out his book on the subject and set it on the table for Stan to pick up and flick through the pages. “You know, things that are odd, unusual, statistically improbable, but not impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible, yeah I know.” Stanley agreed. “Well this all looks great! So you’re gonna go find monsters and stuff? Sounds right up your alley!”
“Thank you.” Stanford said with a smile. “I’ve already calculated where to start, and there appears to be a large cluster of anomalies in Oregon. The grant will cover the cost of a house and lab and everything I could need to properly investigate. But… it’s a bit overwhelming.” Stanford admitted. “It’s a lot to explore for one man.”
“Hey hey,” Stanley said firmly to squash any doubt. “You’ll be amazing at it.”
“I was thinking of hiring an assistant.” Stanford went on, hoping to get his point across successfully. “The grant is enough to cover some help.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea! What about that Fiddlesticks guy?”
“I was actually thinking of keeping this in the family.”
Stanley’s smile dropped. After staring at him for a second or two, he lowered his head and sipped his orange juice. “Oh.”
“I’ll pay you for your work.” Stanford explained. “I haven’t even started on the blueprints for the house yet, but you were always creative and ingenuitive; we can think of a design we both like and would give us our own rooms and space. You wouldn’t have to pay for rent or the bills, you working would do that, but your pay would be lower, but it would be enough for whatever you need. Sure, if I really had to I could probably figure it out, but I would really rather not, and…”
“I’m in.”
It was Stanford’s turn to stare. He was really expecting his brother to refuse, to be stubborn about this. Stanford wasn’t an idiot; he knew Stanley was living in his car and had not been doing well the last four years, and he harbored a lot of guilt for that, but now he had a chance to make things right. Things were still uncertain, and there were still some things about what happened they would have to talk about, some day, but family helps family. Right? “Really?”
Stanley laughed and smiled at him. “Yeah, bro! You need help and I can help you, so I’m in. Last thing I need is for you to go skipping into Roadkill County by yourself and getting eaten by a two-headed mountain lion or something. ‘Sides, we always wanted to go on monster hunts as kids, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is way too short to not do whatcha wanna do.”
Stanford grinned. “You won’t regret this, Lee! I swear!”
“Don’t sweat it,” Stanley chuckled. It was scary how similar they were; it appeared that Stanford was just as scared of losing Stanley as Stanley was of losing Stanford. “Wherever we go, we go together, right?” And he raised a hand to him.
Stanford grinned. “Right.” And they sealed the deal with a high-six.
~~~~~~~~~~
August 30th, 2000
“Move! MOVE! Outta my way!”
“Sorry! Sorry! Please excuse us, sorry!”
Ford was attempting to be the responsible and respectful one, since Stan was clearly going to be rambunctious and obnoxious enough for them both, but truth be told, if Stan was the one who was calm, Ford would be going ballistic.
They both ran into the hospital lobby, glanced at the directions board for the correct floor, and glanced at the elevator, stuffed with people like sardines in a tin can. Stan groaned and darted for the door to the stairs, making Ford grin and follow. They both used their adrenaline to run as fast as they could up the stairs and they nearly broke the door off the hinges at the sixth floor.
Of course, no one familiar was there to greet them, but the twins took that as a good sign; they hadn’t missed it. They walked to room 18 and saw that it was labeled “Pines.” The door suddenly opened and they were met faced-to-face with their nephew, Alex. 
The young man grinned at the sight of his uncles. “Hey! You made it!”
“We wouldn’t miss it, my boy.” Ford assured, patting his back.
“Is the squirt here yet?” Stan asked. 
Alex shook his head. “No, not yet. But Dana’s at eight centimeters, so it shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“Well, we’re here for you if you need us.”
“Thanks. I better go get her ice chips…”
“Oh, I gotcha, sport.” Stan said and headed down the hall casually, his hands in the pockets of his khakis.
“Seriously,” Alex muttered to Ford, a bit more mournful now. “I really appreciate… I’m glad you’re both here.”
Ford smiled kindly and squeezed his shoulder. “Your father would be very proud.”
Alex managed to smile back. An alarm rang over the door for room 18, and Alex ran back inside, leaving Ford to stand there in horror as Dana lay in bed, sweating. Two doctors hurried inside the hospital room and the door was closed, leaving Ford in the dark. He sighed, hoping no more death would strike this family, and he took a seat in the hall to wait.
Stan was shaken, but hid it well, when he came back and Ford had to tell him that something wasn’t right. They were both very surprised when the door was thrown open and Dana was wheeled out in her bed. Alex was squeezing her hand as two doctors called out orders and took the new mother away. Ford and Stan hurried close behind, but were stopped at a different door.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but only the father is allowed with the mother for the C-Section.”
The twins paled. “C-Section?!”
Two hours later, Alex emerged, shaking, but grinning. “They’re… they’re okay. They’re okay.”
“Holy Moses, Lil’Lex, what happened?” Stan said sympathetically.
“It’s… well, why don’t you come in first, then I’ll tell you.” Alex suggested. The pair of men nodded, and were led into a bigger room.
Dana was asleep, apparently on some kind of medicine to help her sleep. There was a special hospital crib next to the big bed. Stan and Ford cautiously approached with Alex, but Ford had to cover his mouth with his six-fingered hand and Stan accidentally let out a long line of swears, making Ford smack him upside the head.
There were two babies. One wore a pink hat, one wore a blue hat, both wrapped in warm blankets, and lying close together. There was a second crib off to the side, but there was no wonder why it wasn’t in use. Twins stick together.
“Mighty Axolotl, thank you.” Ford muttered under his breath. “Alex, they’re beautiful.”
Stan rounded on his nephew and ruffled his fluffy brown hair. “You trying to be a conman like your uncle?”
“Heh, we did decide to take a leaf outta your book, Uncle Stan.” Alex admitted. “We wanted to surprise you both. That’s why things were a bit complicated, but everything worked out. The girl, Mabel, came out first. She kicked the doctor in the jaw.”
“Hah! That’s my girl!” Stan said proudly.
“The boy, Mason, had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Came out blue.” Alex admitted. “He’s okay now, just gave us a scare, but the doctors say he’ll be alright.”
“Thank goodness.” Ford looked down at the baby boy and smiled, truly grateful he was okay, and he thought he could see something poking out of his hat, but it was probably just fuzz.
Alex watched amusingly as the older twins just looked down at the sleeping younger twins. They were smiling so peacefully while their brown eyes were glued hungrily at the newborns. Alex waited for them to ask, but apparently they weren’t going to, so he chuckled warmly, “You know you can hold them too, if you want.”
Ford swallowed. “V-Very well…”
Meanwhile Stan pulled up a chair, sat, and excitedly waited like a child.
Alex scooped up the baby boy and gave him to Stan, who held him like a champ. Then Alex carefully picked up his little daughter and let Ford hold her, who was as stiff as wood and extremely cautious, but after a minute of feeling how peaceful she breathed against him and slept, it was easy to relax.
“Hello,” Ford muttered down at the baby girl, who slept happily.
Stan smiled down at the baby boy, getting strong deja vu from when he held his nephew all those years ago. He noticed something on the baby’s forehead and carefully freed a hand to smooth over his skin, but it wasn’t something that could be wiped away. He gently pushed the tiny blue hat up the small forehead and beamed with pride at the unique birthmark. “Well, look at you, buddy boy. Whatcha hiding that for, ey? That’s pretty special.”
Ford looked down and smiled. “How interesting.”
“Kinda looks like the Big Dipper.” Stan said.
Ford chuckled. “It does.” Something caught his eye, drawing his attention back to the baby girl. She was stirring in Ford’s arms, and soon opened one eye, getting used to the bright world. The scientist held his breath as she looked up at him, and slowly opened her other eye, staring up at him with brown eyes that matched his own. “Stanley,” He hissed. “Stanley, he’s looking at me.”
Stan looked and smiled. “She must see something she likes.” He sneered playfully.
Ford smiled warmly down at her. “Hello there, sweetheart. I’m your Great-Uncle Ford, hi.”
Stan snorted and looked down at his new nephew. “That’s too much of a mouthful. You two gremlins just call me your Grunkle Stan, k’?”
~~~~~~~~~~
January 18th, 2001
The phone was ringing. No, maybe Stan had dreamed the phone rang, because when he lifted his head to listen, he couldn’t hear it, so he let his head fall back on his pillow and he began snoring again.
Ford soon opened the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathed deeply to control himself, and then he entered Stan’s bedroom. He stood beside his sleeping brother and squeezed his shoulder. “Stanley. Stanley, wake up please.”
Stan blinked awake, groaned, and turned. “Whatcha want, Sixer?”
“Stanley, please sit up. I need to tell you something.”
That got his attention; how grave Ford’s voice sounded, how serious, how scary and non-urgent it was. This wasn’t an emergency, but it wasn’t good if Ford was waking him up in the middle of the night. Stan sat up and slipped on his glasses. “What’s wrong?”
Ford sat on the bed, facing his twin. He was quiet for a moment, but then began to talk in a melancholy tone. “W-We… um… The…” Ford cleared his throat in a sad attempt to start again. “I need you to, please, be ready to leave for California as soon as you can. W-We should pack for a few days, maybe a week just in case.”
A shiver went down Stan’s spine. “Why?”
Ford took in a deep breath and took off his glasses. That was never a good sign. “Alex and D-Dana went out. Left Mason and Mabel with a neighbor for a date night. I-It was raining…” And Ford was at a loss for words.
Stan sighed tiredly. “They got into a car crash, didn’t they?”
Ford nodded.
Stan clapped his hands on his knees. “Well, we can help ‘em out. Those little guys love us, and we can stay longer than a week to help the love birds recover.”
“Stanley… they can’t recover.”
That nearly made Stan’s heart stop. He watched as Ford’s head was hung low, but he could still see how wet his eyes were. 
Ford swallowed and croaked out, “They’re gone.”
Stan bit his lip.
Ford turned his head away. “Let’s try to leave within the hour…” He made to move, to attempt to be a man and hide his tears, but Stan wouldn’t let him.
He brought his brother in for a tight, warm hug, and closed his eyes. Ford’s eyes brimmed with tears, and fell when he shut his eyes and buried his face in his twin’s shoulder, but he couldn’t do more than shudder and control his breathing. Stan was still as stone, but a single tear leaked out of one eye, and he let it fall without shame.
~~~~~~~~~~
The nice old lady who had babysat the twins when their parents died kept an eye on them until the uncles arrived, coming just as quickly as they did the day they heard the niblings were being born.
When Ford and Stan arrived at their dead nephew’s house and made a short journey to the one next door, crying disturbed their ears. The frail old lady sighed sadly and explained to the men, “I’ve tried everything for her. Bless her heart, she’s fine, but she misses her parents.”
When the old lady shuffled away to find her spare key for Alex and Dana’s house, Stan and Ford went to see their niece and nephew, the pair in a bassinet in the living room. Soft music played on a record-player, but they were deaf to it. Poor Mabel was crying her little heart out, wailing as hot tears streamed her red cheeks. Mason was by her side, holding her hand as his bottom lip trembled, trying to help his sister but having no idea how.
Stan noticed this and smiled down at the six-month-olds. He ruffled the brown fuzz on top of Mason’s head and cooed, “Hey there, gremlins. Remember us? C’mere, pumpkin, let’s see if we can’t make you feel better, ey?” Stan carefully picked Mabel up and Mason let go of her hand, his bottom lip still shaking with emotion.
Poor Mabel still cried just the same, but Stan was patient and even smiled at her stubbornness. Ford watched, intrigued, as Stan cradled the baby girl in his muscular arm, ran a finger down her button nose a few times, slowly, and breathed deeply. By the time he ran his finger down her nose the third time, Mabel had stopped crying, curious, and then yawned, turning towards his chest and clinging onto his red Hawaiian shirt.
“There we go, better?” Stan asked. Whimpering from the bassinet made Stan chuckle and he reached a strong arm down for his nephew. “Don’t think I forgot about you, Lil’Dipper. I gotcha.”
“How did you do that?” Ford whispered as Mabel snuggled against his chest and Mason calmed down the second he was in Stan’s embrace.
The businessman shrugged. “I dunno, it worked for Alex when he got fussy and it worked on one of Soos’ cousins at Thanksgiving last year.”
Ford smiled and patted his shoulder. “Well you’ve always had a way with children, Stanley.”
“You’ll get the hang of it, Sixer, don’t worry.” Stan assured, but he was suspicious when he saw a new expression on Ford’s face. “Well we are taking them home with us.” You would think they had this conversation on the long car-ride, but the drive had been dead silent as the cold reality had set in.
“Stanley, no.” Ford said firmly, looking away. “We can’t.”
“Have you lost your mind, cuz I’ll help you find it!” Stan scolded. “Why in the world wouldn’t we take them home?!”
“W-... I… I w-... It’s not a good idea.” Ford stuttered, finally looking at his brother again. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I want to! And you would be brilliant at it, Stanley! But… But they would be b-... I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be any good at it.”
“You were fine at the hospital!”
“That was different! Gravity Falls is too dangerous. I hate to say it, but they…”
“Then don’t say it.” Stan growled warningly. He calmed down a little, and then said with the kind of authority that made his word final, “Listen, we’re family; wherever we go, we go together. If they didn’t come home with us, where would they go? Everyone’s gone, so they’d go in the system, and you and I have both heard the horror stories. Best case scenario they would be separated, and that’s the best case scenario. They aren’t going in the system. They’re coming home.
“And what’s all this talk about you not being good enough for them?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard you say some stupid sh-stuff! They need you, and you need them. And honestly, if these kids are anything like us, I’m more worried about the town surviving than I am of them being okay.”
Ford snorted and bit his lip, smiling down at the pair of babies.
“It’ll work out, Sixer, just you wait and see.” Stan reassured and handed Mabel to him, despite the frantic look on Ford’s face and the fact that he was shaking his head “no”. 
Mabel hadn’t really fallen asleep; she was merely resting against Stan’s body. Now she grabbed Ford’s black sweater tightly and nuzzled her chubby cheeks into the yarn. She smiled at the soft touch. Ford held his breath, waiting for Mabel to start crying again, but she didn’t. He took in a few breaths and adjusted his hold so she was cradled more comfortably. The scientist smiled down at her and found all of his troubles were a bit less troubling.
“And no offense, Brainiac, but I don’t give a… gnome’s butt what you say.” Stan injected; he was really going to have to work on his swears. “I’m going to the courthouse before we leave town and I’m adopting these gremlins.”
“What?!” Ford looked back up at him in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” Stan had a very serious look on his face that Ford had only seen on rare occasions. “I ain’t risking some distant cousin or whatnot deciding I ain’t good enough, or the system deciding to take ‘em. They’re my kids…”
“I want to adopt them with you.” Ford interrupted, his voice lighter than it had been all conversation.
Stan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do that…”
“I want to.” Ford said earnestly, looking back down at Mabel. The second Stan mentioned the possibility of them going away again, Ford’s heart broke. He couldn’t do it. Not if his life depended on it. He couldn’t let his children go. “Y-you’re right. I can’t… I can’t lose…” And he bit his lip and cleared his throat. “You were right, Stanley.”
“Heh. A broken clock is right twice a day.” Stan quoted and let Mason hold his finger as he held him in his arms. “Trust me. We’ll be okay.”
And Ford nodded, putting all of his trust in his family.
~~~~~~~~~~
“SIXER! C’MERE!”
Ford jumped up from his desk, knocking his chair to the floor, and sprinted down the hall for the living room, where he was certain his brother was yelling from. He stood at the doorway to find Mabel standing thanks to the help of the couch, a chubby hand on the cushion, and Dipper on his hands and knees beside her. Stan was sitting on the floor just two feet away from the toddlers and grinned at his brother. “Mabel almost took her first steps!”
“Really?!” Ford gasped happily and stepped into the room to watch.
“C’mere, pumpkin!” Stan cooed and waved his hands to himself. “Come to Grunkle Stan, c’mere!”
Mabel giggled and bounced on her knees, but still didn’t step to him. Stan even clapped one or twice to grab her attention, but all that made her do was let go of the couch to clap, but she was more than capable of standing on her own.
“Go on, sweetie, you can do it.” Ford encouraged.
At last Mabel seemed to notice that her other great-uncle was present. She turned and smiled a big smile at him, showcasing her new baby teeth, and surprised everyone when she turned and ran to Ford. Mabel might have tripped and fallen on her baby butt, but that didn’t stop her from giggling and reaching out for Ford, who instantly scooped her up while Stan stood, laughing.
“Mabel, you can walk! Clever girl, clever girl!” Ford praised.
“That’s our girl!”
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford was on the floor of the living room a few days later, playing with Dipper and Mabel, building block towers. The door opened and closed and a booming voice called, “Where’s my troublemakers, ey?!”
The babies squealed and giggled and had a little race, crawling as fast as they could to the hall where Stan stood with groceries in his arms, but he sat the food on the floor to have free hands for his kids, and he scooped them up and scratched their chubby cheeks with his stubble.
“Hey there, kiddos? Been good for Grunkle Ford? No? Good!”
Ford rolled his eyes as he picked up the groceries. “They were as good as gold.”
“Eh, I guess that’s okay.” Stan smiled at Dipper, who was reaching for his glasses, and said, “Hi.”
Dipper smiled. “Hi!”
Ford did a double take as Stan laughed proudly and squeezed his nephew.
~~~~~~~~~~
From first steps to first words to first birthdays, the pair of old explorers were there for everything and couldn’t believe their luck. Pretty soon they were taking the children on safe adventures with them, fishing and hiking, and teaching them everything from Cowls to how to hot-wire cop cars. For eight years their lives were complete and things were too good to be true.
But then Stan went missing. At first Ford wasn’t too worried, only mildly annoyed, but to be fair they had a disagreement recently and Stan was a grown man, so maybe he needed to blow off steam. But then days went by. This was extremely unlike Stan, and there were some people that would want him gone, so without scaring the children too much, he began searching for his twin, definitely not freaking out.
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morganlbr · 4 years
Text
I Thought You Hated Me Ch. 6
Master List First Previous Next.
~Monday, January 14th, 2019. 14/1/19~
Marinette had a good weekend, if you ignored all what Chat Noir did on that patrol that one night.
When her and Damian woke up, they had gotten ready for the day, and she managed to play UMS 3 with him. To her, he was the best competitor she had yet, since everyone else she played against lost easily.
Another thing she did was get him to try her parent's pastries. He made a comment about them being as adequate as Pennyworth's? Who was he?
But he did have to leave eventually, but she now had his number. She could and would text him as much as possible. There wasn't a moment at her home where her nose wasn't in her phone.
"Marinette! Get ready for school!" Tikki yelled at her.
Marinette looked at the time and saw she had an hour before school started. She thought that the sooner she got ready and went to school, the sooner she could stop being distracted by other things and text Damian.
She put on her outfit and went downstairs to get her breakfast. She greeted her parents and grabbed a bag and put some croissants in there.
Tumblr media
(Just imagine that it isn't shorts and actual jeans)
Closing the bag, she was on her way to school. She took some earphones out and put them into their spot in her phone. To save her some time, she called the person she had been texting for a while. When he answered, they continued their conversation from yesterday.
Marinette wasn't really paying attention to everyone around her at school, so when one of the girls in her class took her arm and dragged her somewhere. She was confused and voiced her confusion out loud, which had Damian asking if she was alright.
She reassured him, asking him to continue, wanting to know why Alix was dragging her somewhere in the school. Damian continued on, but wondered if she had ran into problems at school.
Suddenly, Alix stopped dragging her, and she figured she was somewhere where Alix wanted her to bed. Marinette, herself, kept listening to what Damian was saying, who was complaining how much of an insomniac Tim was.
Marinette noticed that she was in a room with the other girls in her class and they were talking, but she didn't think they were talking to her, so she ignored them and listened to the person she was on the phone with.
Suddenly, while the girls were talking, Marinette said something that had nothing to deal with what they were talking about.
"If that's him on a normal day, you should see how much I slept last night. Seeing as I made the outfit I'm wearing, texting you, and dealing with the idiot who thinks they can take away Tikki, I got about an hour of sleep."
She heard him say that he was going to help her get more sleep, while the girls in her class finally got her attention.
"Marinette!" The girl who was being called upon took an earbud out and looked at them. "Were you even listening? And who are you talking to?" Alya asked.
"I'm on the phone with a new friend I recently met." She told them. But saying that didn't feel right. "And before you ask, I'm not going to tell you who they are since I respect their privacy." She told them, seeing as they were about to open their mouths to ask who it was.
"Anyways," Alya continued. "Us girls wanted to know if you could go to our sleepover this weekend. It'll be us and Li-" Before she could finish, Marinette stopped her.
"Sorry I can't. I'm doing something all weekend." Marinette answered. It was true. They were going over their suspects for Hawkmoth that weekend, and she wanted to get his terrorism over with already.
"You just don't want to go because Lila is going to be there." Mylene accused.
"I didn't even know Lila was going to be there. And I really am busy. I have a sleepover at Kagami's place, which was planned weeks ago because her mother is allowing her to have one, then I have to help at the bakery until lunch the next day, and I have lunch at Chloe's, then I have to back to the bakery, and then later, my friend that's on the phone with me right now, insists that I get as much sleep that I possibly can." Marinette started.
"Angel, I don't need another Drake around." Damian said on the phone.
Marinette rolled her eyes and continued. "Then the last day I'm hanging out with him since I don't know how long he'll be in Paris since he doesn't live here." She finished.
The girls, mentally, thought that they would follow her to see if her story checks out. "Alright, but how about we do it next weekend?" Rose asked.
Marinette nodded, more interested in her phone call. "Yeah sure, if nothing comes up."
She turned around and put her other earbud in, ignoring anyone else who was talking to her. The only person she was actually interested in talking to wasn't even in her vision range.
"Marinette, I heard that you didn't want to come to the sleepover because I was going there. Do you not like me that much that you would make stuff up just to get away from me?" Lila asked, fake tears coming into her eyes.
Marinette looked at her with a bored look on her face. "I wouldn't go even if you didn't go. I've had my plans planned way before they even asked me. And I didn't make up my plans." She went back to the book in her hand, and started reading since they were in the middle of class.
"I can't believe you're still making stuff up just so you won't have to hang out with me." Lila exclaimed, full on crocodile crying.
Their classmates were trying to console Lila while glaring at Marinette. She just rolled her eyes.
"You don't have to believe me. Just know that I have things to do. I even offered to go on one next week, and it doesn't really matter if you come or not." She said,
Her class was starting to tell her some insulting words, while Marinette just ignored them, still reading her book.
"Marinette, go to the principal's office!" Mrs. Bustier told her.
"And why do I have to go?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because of all the yelling everyone is doing because of you." Mrs. Bustier answered.
Marinette packed up her stuff and put on her backpack. She looked over at Chloe, not expecting to see her out later. "Do you want me to ask Tim to pick you up later?" Chloe nodded at her and she headed out the door. ;
Marinette stopped before going out. "They're yelling because you can't do your damn job right and the fact that Lila cries crocodile tears every time something doesn't go her way." She told her, looking her directly in the eye.
Mrs. Bustier stood out her seat and pointed to the door. "To the principal's office. Now!"
Marinette shrugged. "You can't say I'm not telling the truth." And with that, she walked out the door, leaving an enraged teacher and stunned classmates.
"Ms. Dupain-Cheng, you're suspended for a week." Principal Democles said when he saw her in his office. Mrs. Bustier had told him what had happened, well in her eyes, and he thought to suspend her.
"Fine with me." She said, shrugging her shoulders. She stood up and walked towards the door, ready to get a ride somewhere.
"This will also be going to the school board with this." He told her.
"Anything else?" She asked, looking over her shoulder. Not getting an answer, she left going to call a special friend to pick her up.
Fifteen minutes later, classes let out. Everyone came out and got ready to change their classes.
Everyone in Mrs. Bustier's class stayed in their groups and went to the front of the school since Alix and Kim wanted to have a race before their next class started.
Before they did that, they spotted Marinette sitting on the front bench in front of the school. She seemed to be looking in front of the school.
"What happened Marinette? Did you get expelled from school?" Lila asked, while everyone else started laughing.
Before Marinette answered, a guy on a motorcycle came in front of the school. No one could see who he was because of the helmet, but he was wearing a leather jacket with some black jeans. They couldn't see what shirt he was wearing because the jacket was covering it.
He took off his helmet and put it on the handle of the motorcycle. The guy had tan skin with green eyes. Anyone who saw him just stopped and stared at him. Some recognized him, while some just stopped and started because they thought he was handsome.
Marinette got up from her seat and went to the guy. He handed her a helmet and she placed it in her hands.
"Demon boy!" Chloe yelled out, causing all the attention to go on her while she went up to the duo. "Is Tim coming to pick me up later?" Chloe asked.
"I don't know about Drake's whereabouts Bourgeois." The guy, Damian, told her.
Chloe rolled her eyes and went on her phone to call someone. Marinette just put her helmet on and sat on the motorcycle. Damian sat in front of her and put his hand on the handle. Marinette held onto his waist. They drove off, moving far away from the bakery across the street.
"I can't believe she's cheating on Adrien." Alya said, when she saw the two driving by.
Lila just agreed, while she started some rumors about how she thinks they got together. Adrien, who was watching everything in the distance, was upset that ex moved on so quickly.
A/N: So, if you want to read the parts I haven’t posted yet, you could read it on my Wattpad since I had that there before posting it here. It has the first eight chapters of this story. The user is the same. @morganlbr The tag list are just people who have commented on this or asked about it.
@northernbluetongue @thecaptainthunder @our-preciousss @buginetye
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