#ive watched it twice now and am down for a third time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

galamalion · 9 months

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┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

┈ ✧.* summary﹕after a group breakfast, you attend your totally boring not-at-all-cool college classes and end your night on a particularly high note.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.6k

┈ ✧.* chapter iv﹕breakfast, books, and bedtimes

“Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead…” a feminine voice whispered from above.

You twitched at the sudden interruption to your sleep, blinking your eyes open once, then twice, and then snapping them fully shut before tucking under your blankets and turning the other direction.

“No…” you groaned, pressing your face into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”

“This isn’t a TV show, get up!” a different voice barked, yanking your blankets off.

Jumping up, sleep still plaguing your body, you lunged towards the blanket-thief, attempting to take your blanket back from their thieving hands.

“Give it back,” you whined, unable to pull it away from her.

“Nope! It’s time for class, no more sleeping!” she cooed.

You sat back in your bed, watching the figure as you slowly began to focus on objects, realizing it was Nami you were fighting.

“God damnit, Nami!” you hissed, stretching your tired body.

“I’m sorry,” Vivi pleaded, looking incredibly guilty. “Nami told me that we could wake you up, I didn’t know you would be so…unreceptive to the idea.”

“It’s fine, Vivi. I guess it’s good that I’m awake now. Do we have plans or something this morning?” you said, sluggishly getting out of bed and walking to your closet.

“Just breakfast,” Nami replied, sitting down on Vivi’s bed.

“With the boys?”

“With the boys,” she said, checking her phone. “They should be there already, want us to wait?”

“Nah.” You grabbed your shower-bag, towel, and fresh pair of clothes. “I’ll shower and be down in a little bit.”

“You sure?” Vivi asked, watching you walk into the small bathroom.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you called from inside, “I’m not leaving this room till I’m clean, you get me?”

“For sure,” you heard Nami sigh in understanding, “well, we’ll see you in a bit, ‘kay?”

“Got it!” You heard the door open and then shut, proceeding to then turn on the shower and hop in.

Once you finished and dried off, you changed into your clean clothes. After carefully brushing your wet hair, you quickly washed your face and headed out towards the dining hall. On your way there you checked your phone for the time, noticing a couple different texts from about half an hour ago.

Oh, shit. Maybe this is why Vivi and Nami woke you up. You continued scrolling through your phone, seeing another text.

It took another minute of walking before you reached the dining hall, climbing the small flight of stairs to reach the top. Your appearance was immediately noted by your table of friends as you spotted Luffy waving excitedly at your entrance. Before he could scream your name—or whatever he planned on yelling—his mouth was quickly covered by Usopp who was then assisted by Sanji in dragging him back down to his chair.

You quickly grabbed a tray of food and made your way over to the table, sitting next to Vivi.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Sanji cooed, giving you a teasing finger wave.

“She’s not a fairy tale character, you half-rate cook,” Zoro scoffed.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, huh?” Sanji hissed, easily enraged by the words of his nemesis. “You tellin’ me she doesn’t look like a princess? What kind of gentlemen do you think you are?”

“I didn’t say she was ugly, I just think she’s not defined by the time she wakes up,” Zoro retorted, finishing his third bowl of rice.

“It’s alright, Zoro,” you reassured, “I mean, doesn’t every girl dream of being a princess? It’s kind of nice to hear it, I guess.”

“Not me!” Nami cheerily answered, peeling away at an orange. “I wanted to be rich, like that Rumplestiltskin guy!”

Sanji swooned, “I’ll be your Rumplestiltskin, my orange blossom!”

“I said I wanna be him, not owe anyone favors,” she scoffed. “But if you’re offering to spin straw into gold for me, go ahead!”

You listened into their three-way conversation for a little longer before turning to Vivi in hopes of a less fiery conversation.

“So, Vi, what classes have you got today?” you asked politely.

Vivi looked excited as she began her explanation, “Well, I have a civics class in about an hour, and then I’ll have a philosophy class after that, and then an economy class…I think that wraps up my day!”

“Wow, pretty wide area of studies,” you remarked. “You’re a political science major, right?”

“Yep!” Vivi clasped her hands together. “It’s good to have an open mind in this field, so I’m trying to gain more perspectives while studying here, so I think these kinds of classes suit me best.”

“Luffy could take a page out of your book,” you sighed.

“What? I don’t need any books! I already have mine!” Luffy hollered from across the table, mouth stuffed with meat. It was a miracle you could even tell what he was saying.

“Nothing, Luffy!” you called back, hoping the food flying from Luffy’s mouth wouldn’t land on anyone nearby.

Vivi politely cleared her throat, “What kind of classes do you have today?”

“Ugh,” you groaned, slouching in your seat.

“Well, that doesn’t appear to be a good sign,” Vivi observed.

“I just don’t want to go to chemistry,” you made a quick vomiting gesture. “I have two psychology classes after that, but I’d rather go to those first and chemistry last, ya feel me?”

Vivi nodded astutely, “Yes, but if you have chemistry now, then you can end your day off on a high note!”

“Always seeing the glass half-full, huh?” you asked, smiling at her enthusiasm.

“I certainly try to. I think it helps me view the world more brightly.”

“Not a bad reason to,” you sighed.

The eight of you ate breakfast together, constantly switching conversations as you all learned new bits and pieces from one another. Sanji was studying culinary arts, Usopp was studying engineering, Vivi had a personal butler back home, and Zoro grew up in a dojo. All in all, your friends' lives were far more interesting than your own. Growing up in a well-maintained orphanage didn’t do much for character growth, after all.

“Well,” you stood up, “my class is starting soon, so I should head out now,”

“Ah, leaving so soon, just like last time!” Sanji cried. “I’ll miss you, my sweet princess!”

“Have fun,” Zoro murmured, drinking from a flask of booze.

“Where the hell’d you get that?!” Usopp gaped.

You decided to make your exit before the situation got out of hand.

“I hate chemistry,” you groaned, trekking over to the science building.

It wasn’t that chemistry was particularly hard, but it was a lot of work. Concepts could be explained, equations could be understood, and values could be memorized. But it was just so damn boring at times. Sitting still during lecture was insufferable, but you could keep up for a little bit, at least until the next new thing was introduced. Then you’d be lost. But that’s what office hours and tutors were for, you supposed.

You climbed the stairs up to your class, dreading the pit of boredom that awaited you within. Reaching the classroom, you carefully turned the handle and stepped inside. Immediately upon entering, you immediately noticed a familiar face.

Sitting at a lone table off to the side was your lab assistant, Law, if you remembered correctly. Was he really assisting two chemistry classes? What kind of psychotic lunatic would subject themselves to that kind of pain?

His mental state wasn’t something you particularly cared about, especially considering your somewhat embarrassing encounter with him. You decided to just claim a seat and ignore him until further notice, most likely until you needed help with something.

The class itself was cut and dry; Avogrado’s number is important and we’re all made of molecules. Once the lesson was over and the hour was up, you began to pack up your things, particularly slower than your fellow students, who were racing to exit the building.

Once you had your laptop (and pens, pencils, notebook, and calculator) all stored within your bag, you stood from your chair to leave.

“Last one to leave again, huh?” Law’s voice rang out as he stood from his table.

You took a deep breath in, “I guess so, yeah. Last one to wake up, last one to leave.”

“Bad habits can be hard to break,” he advised, walking to the door.

“And that’s why we have alarm clocks,” you muttered, following behind him.

Law snickered at your comment, “That’s what I thought when I was a freshman. They’re pretty effective until you pull three all-nighters in a row.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be pulling any all-nighters, then,” you asserted. “I’ll just have to study before I have a test.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked, turning into a different hallway than you, leaving you behind.

“Maybe I will,” you murmured to yourself, walking out of the building.

You strolled through campus, intent on heading back to your dorm and studying a little, maybe getting lunch with Vi and Nami later.

“____!” a voice shrilled from across your path.

Turning to your left, you saw Usopp and Zoro making their way towards you, the former waving.

“Hey, ____,” Usopp began, “me and Zoro were gonna go to the library and study, wanna come?”

You thought for a moment, “Yeah sure, sounds like fun. I’ve got some work I need to finish up on.”

“Sweet!” Usopp cheered, charging towards the direction of the library. “Follow me, Usoppites!”

You and Zoro gave each other a knowing before the latter shrugged his shoulders, stomping after the young man.

The three of you gathered together at a table, pulling up chairs and setting your notebooks and laptops up on top.

“So,” you began, opening up your computer, “anyone have exciting stories from their first week?”

“It’s only Tuesday,” Zoro groaned, rubbing his forehead and leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes, “That doesn’t mean cool stuff can’t have happened, mossy .”

“Only annoying if it’s from Sanji,” he scoffed, crossing his arms with a tiny smirk on his face. What, was it the curly eyebrows that ruined the name for him?

“I have a story, kind of,” Usopp interjected sheepishly. “It’s about a guy in one of my engineering classes…”

“Well, spit it out,” Zoro grunted.

“Look who’s interested now,” you teased, poking him in the shoulder.

“Never said I wasn’t,” he fired back.

Usopp cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a huge guy in my mechanical engineering class, and I mean massive guy. Everything about him his huge—shoulders, thighs, calves, neck,”

“Dick?” Zoro chuckled, earning a playful shove from you.

“I can only assume so,” Usopp answered honestly. “But anyways, I don’t know why he’s in the class, he’s a junior .”

‘I know a thing or two about juniors,’ you thought to yourself, flipping through your notebook.

“I’ve heard some rumors from other students. A few say that the school’s making him retake the class because he beat up the teacher, but I’ve also heard that he beat up his entire class,” Usopp whispered, looking around as if the student would appear behind him. “But most importantly, people have said that he’s a G-A-N-G leader!”

You and Zoro shared a brief look before turning to Usopp.

“I know that Grand Line isn’t exactly known for its prim and properness, Usopp,” you reasoned, “however, if this guy really beat the shit out of his teacher or class or whatever he did, the school would probably expel him, not make him retake the class.”

“____ has a point,” Zoro yawned, “but there’s probably a reason he has those rumors around him. I’d keep an eye out.”

“No problemo!” Usopp straightened his papers, “I’m keeping a close eye on him, just in case he tries something dastardly. I won’t end up like my predecessors!”

All you could do was hesitantly accept Usopp’s resolution, slightly fearing for his safety if he were to be caught.

“Am I really the only one with a problem student in my classes?” Usopp grumbled, “I thought bad boys would be more widespread at Grand Line…”

“Well, I don’t have a problem student per se,” you lightly coughed, “but I have an assistant in two of my classes, and I think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow, “You think he’s gonna fail you or somethin’?”

“Well, no,” you admitted, “I just think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

“Repeating what you said doesn’t make your meaning any clearer…” Usopp pointed out, chewing on the back of his pencil.

“Ok, well, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed, glaring down at your papers.

“I have a class with Luffy,” Zoro said coolly.

“What makes you think he counts as a bad boy?!” you and Usopp snarled.

After your little discussion, the three of you began working separately on your assignments. You focused on studying in advance of your next chemistry class, hoping to prove Law wrong in his assumptions. By keeping ahead of your work, you could easily sleep in far longer than intended. At least until you had a morning class. But you could worry about that next semester, or whenever the universe decided to sprinkle a little misfortune in your idealistic college experience. Damned universe.

The silence persisted for an hour, only interrupted by an occasional cough or hurried knee-bouncing beneath the table. Your phone was the first real disturbance, buzzing on the table and causing a light shiver to course through it. You hurriedly removed it and checked to see what caused the notification, spotting a text from Nami.

You looked at Nami’s picture, seeing a selfie of her sitting in the middle of a small tile floor, a sink and shower in the background.

“Alright guys,” you breathed, standing up and gathering your things. “I have been cordially invited to attend a slumber party and must take my leave.”

“Will you be okay walking back alone?” Usopp asked.

You swung your bag over your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you guys if I need anything.”

“Stay safe,” Zoro muttered, hunched over a stack of papers.

“Yeah, good luck with all that,” you laughed quietly, leaving the library.

“Nami?” you called out, stepping into the hallway of your dorm floor.

“Right here!” Nami’s voice echoed back, spotting you and offering a small wave.

She was sitting up against the wall right next to your dorm room’s door and wearing her pajamas, peeling a small tangerine with her left hand and scrolling on her phone with her right.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she groaned, pointing to a pile of tangerine peels, “I’ve been bored out of my mind waiting for Vi to finish setting up.”

“I assume a picturesque site awaits us behind the door,” you joked, sliding down beside her.

“Ugh, you and your big fancy-pants lingo,” she pouted, popping a tangerine slice into her mouth.

“What, is picturesque too big a word for your shiny golden brain?” you teased. “I’ll rephrase—It’s gonna be real purty in that room! How’d I do?”

Nami jabbed you with her elbow, earning a yelp from you.

“I’ll have you know, Little Miss Knows-a-Lot, that I won my elementary school’s spelling bee when I was—”

Before Nami could finish her retort, the door beside her flew open, revealing a very chipper Vivi dressed in her matching silk pajamas, holding another matching pair and a blindfold.

“Oh, good afternoon, ____! Thank you very much for agreeing to attend my slumber party. I have prepared a pair of pajamas for you to wear, but you’ll have to put on this blindfold to go get changed, I do not want my surprise ruined!”

You nodded, giving Nami a salute before allowing Vivi to lead you blindfolded into the bathroom to get changed. And, after changing, you patiently waited for Vivi to give you the go ahead to leave.

“You done yet, Vi?” you tapped on the bathroom door while reading the labels on everyone's skin care products.

“Almost, I promise!” she hollered back, “I just need to put on the finishing touches to make sure nothing falls down!”

“Falls down?” Nami shouted through the door. “Just what are you doing to our room?”

“Nothing permanent!” Vivi sang, clearly rushing back and forth in the room judging by her voice.

“I’ve had to start reading the backs of shampoo bottles now, Vi! If I run out of labels to read I think I’ll die,” you pleaded.

“Hey, be careful touching my stuff! Break it and you pay for it!” Nami barked, knocking viciously on her door.

“How am I gonna break a shampoo bottle?” you scoffed, placing it back down and reciprocating her violent knocks.

Just as you were about to send another knock Nami’s way, the bathroom door flew open, causing you to stumble forward and onto the floor.

“Oops! I’m so sorry!” Vivi cried, helping you up and opening the door to the dorm.

“Well, let’s see this awesome slumber party room…” Nami started, the words quickly dying on her tongue as she took in the room.

Beautiful was too dull a word to describe how absolutely stunning the room was. The blankets had been rearranged to form a tent structure between the two beds, using a tall stick that had come from who knows where with a base that allowed it to remain firmly planted without fear of toppling over. Little fairy lights decorated the ceiling of the fort, both large and tiny pillows decorated the sides of the fort, and soft, fluffy blankets were scattered about for snuggling purposes. Snacks were stacked within the fort along the bed frames, easily within reach of anyone who wanted anything, bowls sitting underneath a bed. On the other side of the fort was Vivi’s laptop with about fifteen tabs of different streaming services open for your viewing pleasure during this slumber party.

Nami gaped at the sight, “Vi, it’s…”

“...Picturesque?” you breathed, staring in amazement.

“Welcome!” Vivi clasped her hands in excitement before spreading them out, “to my very first slumber party!”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

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duskier · 2 months

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I was tagged by @pricegouge to do these book questions!! (Thank you for the tag ml it made my brain light up like a Christmas tree!!)

1) last book I read -

The Urge by Carl Erik Fischer. Absolutely fantastic read on the history of addiction (mainly western focused)

2) a book I recommend -

THE THREE BODY PROBLEM BY LIU CIXIN OH MY G-D SOMEONE COME NERD OUT ABOUT THIS BOOK WITH ME IT IS SO GOOD UGHHHHHH

3) a book I couldn't put down -

Still Missing by Chevy Stevens. I devoured that book in a single day. (Read trigger warnings for this one if you seek it out!!)

4) a book Ive read twice or more -

Eragon!!! I used to love love love reading this book over and over. I got really into reading it while listening to the audiobook to the point where when I read it now without the audiobook. I can still hear the voice actor. (Controversial take to anyone who has listened to the audiobook: I LIKE the way Gerard Doyle voiced Saphira. YEAH I SAID IT!!)

5) a book on my tbr -

Blitzed by Norman Ohler, going over drugs used by N/zis during the Third Reich. It came highly recommended to me recently and a friend bought me my own copy :)

6) a book I've put down -

In Sunlight and In Shadow by Mark Helprin. I haven't touched it in years but I have no intention of getting rid of it now. I made it barely a chapter in before giving up.

7) a favorite book from childhood -

Absolutely has to be The Secret Garden. I used to have really vibrant dreams about this book. All the time.

8) a book I would give to a friend -

Absolutely would give someone my copy of Le Portrait De Petite Cossette (Someone please. It is a two volume manga that's a gory gothic romance about nihilism and has beautiful art READ IT SO I CAN TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT IT)

9) a fiction book I own -

Bloodthirsty by Flynn Meaney. Anything I think I know about American public school comes from 1. my siblings and 2. this book. Kid pretends to be a vampire to get girls. I read this at a very formative age, changed me entirely. Fun YA read.

10) a non fiction book I own -

Hero of Two Worlds by Mike Duncan. Goes over Lafayette's life in both France and America. It is funny that America counts him as a founding father but in life he was kind of a loser in France. I listened to Mike Duncan's Revolutions podcast to get through some tough times, he does some really interesting work!!

11) what I am currently reading -

Dune. I wish I was joking. I watched the two movies, couldn't get it out of my head, my dad has an old copy and let me borrow it. I am very slowly working through it.

12) what I am planning on reading next -

From Here to Eternity by Caitlin Doughty. I watch that lady on youtube a ton and I have been excited to read her writing, especially since it is so suddenly relevant to my life.

13) my shelfie -

My bookshelf is currently still disassembled and half of my books are across the world at my mom's house still (I don't have the heart to put it up right now soooooo)

I tag: @391780 @auspicioustidings @glossysoap aaaand anyone else who wants to do these questions !!

#noel.txt #ignore me if i double tagged anyone dkdnana

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thevastnessof · 5 years

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ABSOLUTE UNIT

#skys art #godzilla #godzilla king of the monsters #godzilla kotm #traditional art #artists on tumblr #in awe at the size of this lad #i love kotm SO much #ive watched it twice now and am down for a third time #sgshdhdj i know traditional art gets like #2 notes #but im throwing it on here anyways

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floralseokjin · 4 years

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⤑ made-up love song i.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.

No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.

You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.

You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.

You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.

There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.

“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.

You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.

When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”

He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”

The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”

You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.

“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.

“What happened?” You asked hotly.

He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”

“Were you on your phone?”

“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.

“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”

“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”

You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.

“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!

He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”

“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.

His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”

“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.

“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!

“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”

You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”

“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.

“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”

“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.

“No?”

His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”

You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.

“But I did this.”

He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.

“Wait,” he called out.

“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.

“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”

He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.

After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.

You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…

Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –

You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”

Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.

You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”

“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”

He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”

Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.

“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”

You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”

The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”

“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”

You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”

“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.

You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.

You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.

“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”

You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”

He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”

Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”

“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?

He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”

You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”

Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”

Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”

“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.

Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”

Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”

“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?

On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”

You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”

“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”

“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.

“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”

You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”

Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”

You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”

His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”

“Not too far, Miss.”

He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”

He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.

You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.

After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.

She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”

You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”

“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”

After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.

Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.

You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.

Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.

There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…

It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.

“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.

“Oh, hello again.”

You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.

You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?

“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.

He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”

“What?”

You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–

“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”

“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.

“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”

Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.

You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”

You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.

Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”

Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.

“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”

You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.

Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.

That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.

“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”

“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”

Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.

He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”

Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”

“Hm?”

That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”

His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”

You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.

“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”

Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.

He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.

You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.

Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”

He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”

“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”

“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.

You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”

He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”

“I didn’t want you to pay!”

He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”

“You’re calling me absurd?”

He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”

He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”

You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”

“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.

You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.

He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.

“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…

“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.

You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.

“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”

No, neither were you.

“I really am sorry about that.”

He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”

“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”

You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.

He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”

Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”

He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”

You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?

“How will you get home?”

Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.

“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.

“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”

“Kid?”

“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…

“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.

“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”

“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.

“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”

You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.

“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”

You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.

“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.

“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.

He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.

You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.

You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.

You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”

He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…

“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”

“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.

“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”

“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”

No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”

He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”

“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.

He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.

“You were definitely flirting back.”

You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”

She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.

“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”

“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.

“Find out tomorrow.”

“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”

Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”

“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.

Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”

You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”

She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”

You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?

Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.

Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.

You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.

You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!

Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.

It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”

You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”

“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”

“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.

With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.

But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.

The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”

Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?

“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”

Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.

You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…

“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.

Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.

“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”

She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.

You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.

“Miss. Y/L/N!”

You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.

“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.

That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”

You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”

“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”

“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”

“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”

Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.”

In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.

“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.

He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?

“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”

He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”

She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”

He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”

You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”

Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.

“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”

You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?

You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!

That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.

You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”

His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”

“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”

“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.

“No.” So was he.

“Mr. Kim.”

“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.

“Tell me!”

He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.

What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”

You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”

Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”

It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”

“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”

He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.

So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)

“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”

He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”

You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”

Really? Interesting… “Mr –

“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”

You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”

He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”

You nodded.

He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”

“How far?” Now you were too.

“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”

“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.

“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”

You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.

“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”

That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?

You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.

That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin smut #bts smut #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years

Text

A confusing clusterfuck of thoughts re: Jonsa

Or: why the fuck are Jon and Sansa so compatible if they're not canon, huh?

He saw the Wall shining like blue crystal, and his bastard brother Jon sleeping alone in a cold bed, his skin growing pale and hard as the memory of all warmth fled from him. - Bran III AGOT

So....Jon is going to lose memory of all warmth? I'm going to separate the changes brought about in post-resurrection!Jon here as changes caused by death and changes caused by Ghost. This post is only speculating about the changes caused by death i.e. loss of memory of all warmth.

More foreshadowing for that-

Chunks of coal burned in iron braziers at either end of the long room, but Jon found himself shivering. The chill was always with him here. In a few years he would forget what it felt like to be warm. - Jon III AGOT

"It was. The fort is in a sorry state, admittedly. You will restore it as best you can..." ... You'll sleep on stone, too exhausted to complain or plot, and soon you'll forget what it was like to be warm, but you might remember what it was to be a man. - Jon II ADWD

So, I did a word search for warm and memory and I found some interesting stuff. Read under the cut.

1. Home

Jon- warmth and memory of home

The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. - Jon II AGOT (thinking about Arya)

The weariness came on him suddenly... So cold, he thought, remembering the warm halls of Winterfell, where the hot waters ran through the walls like blood through a man's body. There was scant warmth to be found in Castle Black... - Jon III AGOT

...Iron Emmett was still urging on his charges in the yard. The song of steel on steel woke a hunger in Jon. It reminded him of warmer, simpler days, when he had been a boy at Winterfell matching blades with Robb under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik Cassel. Ser Rodrik too had fallen, slain by Theon Turncloak... All my memories are poisoned. - Jon VI ADWD

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell's muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it.-Jon XII ASOS

So, these are the memories of warmth he'll lose? This warmth, that he associates with Winterfell (and the Starks), is the first memory of warmth Jon has.

Dany- memory of home

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind... and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door.

"… the dragon …" - Daenerys IX AGOT

Home? The word made her feel sad. Ser Jorah had his Bear Island, but what was home to her? A few tales, names recited as solemnly as the words of a prayer, the fading memory of a red door … was Vaes Dothrak to be her home forever? - Daenerys VI AGOT

..."What shall we talk of?"

"Home," said Dany. "Naath. Butterflies and brothers. Tell me of the things that make you happy, the things that make you giggle, all your sweetest memories. Remind me that there is still good in the world."

Missandei did her best. She was still talking when Dany finally fell to sleep, to dream queer, half-formed dreams of smoke and fire. - Daenerys VIII ADWD

Dany's idea of 'home' changes over the course of the books. In the beginning she uses home for Illyrio's house, or the house with the red door. She very clearly doesn't think of Westeros as her home. After Viserys's death however, there's a sudden shift. Now, Westeros is her long lost home that she must return to someday. It's jarring. Interestingly enough, she pretty clearly rejects the idea of Dothraki khalasars as home, and the only time she calls Meereen home is in her last chapter of ADWD where she's trying to convince herself to return there. But we know that she ultimately rejects that too, in the same chapter.

Sansa- memory of home

Snow was falling on the Eyrie.

Outside the flakes drifted down as soft and silent as memory. Was this what woke me? Already the snowfall lay thick... The sight took Sansa back to cold nights long ago, in the long summer of her childhood. - Sansa VII ASOS

Last of all came the Royces, Lord Nestor and Bronze Yohn... Though his hair was grey and his face lined, Lord Yohn still looked as though he could break most younger men like twigs in those huge gnarled hands. His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. - Alayne I AFFC

She missed Septa Mordane, and even more Jeyne Poole, her truest friend... She tried not to think of them too often, yet sometimes the memories came unbidden, and then it was hard to hold back the tears. Once in a while, Sansa even missed her sister. By now Arya was safe back in Winterfell... - Sansa II ACOK

Arya coz why not

"Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths.… Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you …" - Arya II AGOT

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. - Arya II AFFC

Again, all this (and much more) is stuff that reminds Sansa (and Arya) of home. This is, presumably, shit that Jon is gonna forget. Or maybe he'll retain the memories and only lose the emotions (warmth) associated with it?

2. Suitors or romantic/sexual partners (+Ben Plumm)

Jon

Many a night he lay with Ygritte warm beside him,... - Jon V ASOS

So, Ygritte becomes his second memory of warmth.

When he turned he saw Ygritte.

...cloaked in darkness and in memory. The light of the moon was in her hair, her red hair kissed by fire. When he saw that, Jon's heart leapt into his mouth. "Ygritte," he said.

"Lord Snow." The voice was Melisandre's.

Surprise made him recoil from her. "Lady Melisandre." He took a step backwards. "I mistook you for someone else." At night all robes are grey. - Jon VI ADWD

AT NIGHT ALL ROBES ARE GREY...yea I know, this is a well established connection between the Girl in Grey and Ygritte. Since Jon associates Ygritte with warmth so strongly, I think it's safe to assume that the Girl in Grey might play a role in warming him too (hehe).

… one hears queer talk of dragons."

"Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit."

"My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons." - Jon IX ADWD

Yikes.

Dany

"If my queen commands," he (Jorah) said, curt and cold.

Dany was warm enough for both of them. "She does," she said. "She commands...

When he was gone, Dany threw herself down on her pillows beside her dragons. She had not meant to be so sharp with Ser Jorah, but his endless suspicion had finally woken her dragon. - Daenerys IV ASOS

So, here the warmth is because of anger (woken the dragon).

Dany could feel the warmth of his fingers. He was warm in Qarth as well, she recalled, until the day he had no more use for me. She rose to her feet. "Come," she said, and Xaro followed her through the pillars... - Daenerys III ADWD

She remembered Ben's face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted... Even the dragons had been fond of old Brown Ben, who liked to boast that he had a drop of dragon blood himself. Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. Was Plumm the third treason, or the second? And what did that make Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear? Would she never have a friend that she could trust?- Daenerys VI ADWD

This is twice that Dany associates warmth with people who use/betray her.

"You're hurt," she gasped.

"This?" Daario touched his temple. "A crossbowman tried to put a quarrel through my eye, but I outrode it. I was hurrying home to my queen, to bask in the warmth of her smile." He shook his sleeve, spattering red droplets. - Daenerys VI ADWD

Dawn always came too soon.

...If only she had the power, she would have made their nights go on forever, but the best that she could do was stay awake to try and savor every last sweet moment before daybreak turned them into no more than fading memories....

Dany wrapped her arms around her captain and pressed herself against his back. She drank in the scent of him, savoring the warmth of his flesh, the feel of his skin against her own. Remember, she told herself. Remember how he felt. - Daenerys VII ADWD

Ok, I forgot how smitten Dany was with Daario. It would be cute if Daario wasn't so horrifying. Girl has some seriously questionable taste.

Interestingly, the phrase 'fading memory' is used four times in the text (as far as I can find) and three of those times are in Daenerys's POV. One is in the above quote, where she's commanding herself to remember her time with Daario before her marriage to Hizdahr, and the other time is while thinking about the red door. Both these are memories that are important to her, that connect her to the hopeful/little/not-dark girl she once was.

Sansa

Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. - Tyrion VIII ASOS

"I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her." - Sansa VII ASOS

"Alayne." Her aunt's singer stood over her. "Sweet Alayne. I am Marillion. I saw you come in from the rain. The night is chill and wet. Let me warm you." - Sansa VI ASOS

You must be very cold. Let me warm you, Sansa. Take off those gloves, give me your hands." - Sansa VII ASOS

Yea no. Sansa has not had a good experience with people offering to warm her (unfreeze her? melt her?)

Looks like in TWOW there's going to be two people in desperate need of some warming.

It's pretty neat actually. Jon associates memories of warmth with two things primarily: Winterfell/the Starks, and Ygritte. Sansa is both a Stark, and a much (much) improved Ygritte.

Sansa's iciness-wall-armour is a form of protection that she employs against predatory men. The only person who can melt her frozen heart...is someone who is not predatory. Someone who cares for her. Jon.

It fits perfectly. They fit perfectly.

#actually jonsa #jonsa #jonsa meta #book jonsa

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

A Little Bit Stabbed

Jake Gets Stabbed Miniseries: First Second Third Fourth Fifth Sixth

CW: Discussion of past child abuse/domestic violence, description of stab wound, painkillers/drugged but in a good way, brief IV needle reference, some short references to Jake’s religious trauma, some trauma response stuff

“Took four of us to get you onto the couch, you know,” Kauri says, fingers moving gently to brush Jake’s short hair back off his forehead. There’s a hint of humor to his deep voice, but Jake catches the tremor in it, too. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Must be… pretty fucking heavy, then,” Jake manages, voice slightly thin. They gave him something - Nat’s EMT friend showed up with IV supplies while refusing to tell anyone where they’d gotten ahold of everything from, except to repeatedly reassure all of them I know someone, it’s taken care of, I probably won’t go to jail for this. Besides, I’ve been in jail before.

Jake might not have found it very reassuring if he wasn’t halfway to unconscious from the pain alone at the time.

Now, though, there’s a needle feeding a steady supply of something wonderful into his bloodstream, holding the worst of the pain at bay. All he can feel now is maybe a little bit of an itch he knows better than to scratch, and a heaviness to his limbs that keeps them limp and relaxed.

“We had to turn the stupid thing into the pull-out bed just to make sure your feet wouldn’t be higher than your head.” Kauri smiles at him, but there’s worry in those warm blue eyes, and Jake uses every ounce of strength to lift his good hand, the one on the uninjured side, and take Kauri’s, pulling his knuckles to his lips to brush against them.

“I’m okay,” Jake says softly. “I am, Kaur. It’s not so bad.”

“It’s not-... you got fucking stabbed in your own kitchen, Jake.” Kauri’s lips thin and he looks away, over towards the TV, playing Clue.

Funny, Jake thinks, woozy and untethered to any kind of focus. My mom used to play Clue when we were alone, after. Made her feel better for a while.

“Just a… a flesh wound,” Jake manages in a terrible approximation of a British accent.

Kauri just looks at him, expression serious, and leans over until their foreheads touch. He’s warm, and Jake’s eyes close, basking in the body heat that comes off of him, surrounds them both. “Don’t,” Kauri whispers. “Please don’t make jokes. I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs.

Eventually, he should probably tell someone he can only sort of feel the hand on the injured side. But not now.

“It’s okay. It’s not s’bad. I got the good drugs, right?”

“Antibiotics and…” Kauri squints at the label on the bag attached to the IV, then winces and shakes his head. “Sorry. Can’t read today. It, uh. It kind of comes and goes when I’m worried, and today-”

“I get it. But… you don’t have to worry about me, Kaur. It’s over, it happened… I’ll feel better pretty fast. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Kauri says softly, but he relaxes beside Jake, keeping a hold of his hand. His fingers are slightly chilled, but they warm against Jake’s. The two of them settle into silence for a while, a woman in black on the TV with eyes blown wide in comic exaggeration of anger speaking in a blur of sound Jake knows by heart but can’t really pick apart from anything else, not just yet, not right now.

He knows this movie by heart. He and his mom used to curl up under a blanket while she closed her eyes and prayed for things to get better and Jake prayed for his dad to die in a car accident or some other terrible way, and make it slow, and then pray with terror not to go to hell for thinking like that.

If men like his father go to heaven, Jake would rather burn in hell.

At least my favorite bands would be there, he thinks, and laughs to himself, shoulders shaking a little, sending a ripple of pain down his arm and spiking into his skull. He winces, but the thought still strikes him as too funny to quit circling woozily around his mind, and he keeps laughing a little.

Kauri turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “What are you laughing at?”

Jake blinks over at him, those wide blue eyes. It had been hell not to be able to hold him for so long, with eyes like that. Real hell, the kind where you spend your days wishing for a connection that seems too hard to make. “Nothing, just… thinking about shit with my dad,” He says, finally. “My mom and I used to watch Clue all the time. It’s her favorite movie.”

“Yeah?” Kauri looks over his shoulder, back at the television, and Jake’s eyes move lazily over the slight bump in his nose where it was broken by someone years ago, the dip of his lips, the roundness of his chin, angling a little with age. The way his neck would feel to trace with just one fingertip, how he smiles when Jake does it, asks him what the fuck he’s looking at when there’s way more to Kauri that needs attention right now than just his face.

There’s a lazy wave of warmth in Jake, a steady thrum of something that goes much deeper than arousal, at the memory.

Adoration.

“Yeah,” He says, softly. “She’d put it on when he left the house, we’d make popcorn and watch it. Saturday night special, popcorn and a movie, Mom and Jake.”

“Where’d your dad go?” Kauri asks, then the answer catches up with him, and he winces. “Wait, sorry. I think I know where he went.”

“Church.”

That is clearly not what Kauri expected to hear. “I-... what?” He turns back to Jake, eyebrows furrowing. “I thought-”

“Nope. He went to church. Fish fry on Saturdays, he volunteered.” Jake is dimly aware that this might be more than he’s ever told Kauri about his father, at least more than he’s ever said that wasn’t laser-focused on the hurts, the bruises, the concussion, the ER visits where Jake learned to lie. “He was a magician with a deep fryer. Best fucking fish I ever ate.” He laughs, then coughs a little against the new round of ache in his shoulder.

Kauri is quiet for a moment, his eyes searching Jake’s face, maybe looking for an idea of how to respond the right way. Jake knows that look - he’s seen it less and less over the years, but it never fully stops.

Kauri never stops looking for the safe answer, the one that won’t get him hurt. Jake never stops being ready to fight his way out if it happens again. Kauri is still ready to say what the abuser needs to hear, placate and please and keep himself alive.

Jake is still ready to pick up a weapon and use it if his father ever comes near he or his mother again. Not that he ever will. Not that he even wants to, sixteen years after Jake last saw his face.

But he’s still built, deep within, to fight the threat. And so is Kauri, in his own way.

“I love you so much,” Jake says softly. “I hope you didn’t pull anything dragging my ass around.”

“Mmmn, guess I’ll find out,” Kauri says softly, snuggling back up to him, then. “Should we change the movie? If it’s, like, a thing for you-”

“Nah.” Jake smiles, slightly. He feels pleasantly drunk, on whatever the painkiller slowly drip-feeding into his arm is. A little woozy, a little bit in love with it. “It’s like a comfort thing, really. I should call my mom-”

“I already did,” Kauri says, gently pushing him back down as Jake tries to make himself sit up. “She’s driving up. She said she’ll get here in the morning, she had to find someone to watch her dog.”

Jake blinks twice. “Mom has a dog?”

“I think it’s new. But, um. You can’t exactly meet her at her hotel, Jake. She’s gonna have to come here.”

Jake feels a rush of old nerves prickling along his arms, the hair of his neck trying to stand up. He closes his eyes, tries to push it back down. “I’ve never given her my address. It’s not safe for us. What if-... I don’t know. I’ve just never… I’ve always worried that if he found her, you know, that he’d… convince her to tell him where I live. He’d turn us all in just to feel like the big righteous moral hero all over again. Probably hard to feel that way when you’re hitting a teenager. Easier when you’re turning in vigilantes with stolen property.” He spits the words, and Kauri flinches a little. “Shit. Sorry, Kaur.”

“No, it’s. It’s okay. I get what you mean. But I don’t think your mom would do that. She loves you.”

“She does.” Jake exhales, closes his eyes. Inside him there is still an angry child that wants to point out that it hasn’t always been enough. But there’s a grown man, and a decade of fucking therapy, telling him there’s a whole lot more to it than that. “And she’s finally come around to understanding why I do this. Yeah… yeah, we’ll tell her where I am. It’ll be fine. Honestly, it’s not so bad. Jameson really did a great job on the stabbing.” Jake tries to laugh again. “Fucking surgeon with a butcher knife. He managed to miss every fucking bit of me that would have killed me.”

“Except for if you bled out,” Kauri points out, voice small.

“Yeah… but I didn’t.” Jake thinks of Antoni’s face, the focus in his dark eyes, the quick movement of his hands, the blinding agony of the cloth being forced into the wound to soak up the blood, the way Antoni had leaned all his weight forwards to put enough pressure to staunch the bleeding. Jake had never felt pain like that before, and he’s not sure he could handle feeling it again. “Ant was there. It’ll be okay. Where is he?”

“In his room.” Picking at the heavy thick blanket laid over Jake, not quite looking at him now, Kauri asks, “How are you so calm about this?”

“Drugs,” Jake answers right away. “Like ninety percent drugs.” He groans as a throbbing ache travels from the stab wound, up into his skull, all the way down to his toes. “Fuck. The… whatever’s in there helps. But also…” Jake sighs, letting his eyes drift to the ceiling, over the popcorn-texture there. He’d meant to scrape it clean and smooth, when he bought the house, but other stuff kept taking priority, and he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “This isn’t th’ first time, you know?”

Kauri frowns. “Jake, I have licked just about everything on your body, I’ve never seen a scar from-”

“Not… not stabbed. But… stuck here, on a couch-bed, tryin’... tryin’ to heal from shit. That’s not new.” Jake exhales. Above him, the blades of the ceiling fan circle lazily, and his eyes follow the movement of the shadows.

“No, I guess not.”

“In any case… I haven’t s-seen… Jameson’s upstairs, right? Can you get him down here?”

Something passes over Kauri’s face, a shadow, a discomfort and darkness that Jake can’t quite read. “Jameson’s not in the house, Jake.”

“What? Why?” Jake starts trying to sit up again, and this time Kauri’s gentle push isn’t enough to get him back down. He grinds his teeth against the pain and forces himself upright, trying to shift his legs over the side of the bed. The room spins around him, dizzy-sick flip in his stomach, but he ignores it. He’s felt worse than this and kept moving before. “Shit, fuck, I should’ve made sure he didn’t leave-”

“He didn’t. I made him go.”

The look Jake turns on Kauri is baffled, but there’s anger, too, welling up inside him. “You what?”

“I told him he can’t stay here if he’s a danger to you and the others,” Kauri says, but he cringes back from Jake’s expression, instinctive fear. Jake hates how he looks like his dad - huge and muscular, a threat inherent in his existence that he might not give off if he were smaller. But his bulk and his strength is also the thing that makes him capable of withstanding the danger he puts himself in for them. It’s the reason he could come home and pick Chris up with a broken rib and carry him after they raided the last safehouse he’d lived in. It’s the reason he could finally fight back with his dad. It’s the reason the kids at his new schools, one after another after another as he and his mom moved constantly to try not to be found, left him alone.

“Kauri, he can’t-... Jameson’s not. He can’t live on his own.”

“That’s a lie,” Kauri says, lips barely moving. “That’s a lie they tell us-”

“No, that’s not what I-... Jameson’s like Chris,” Jake says, softly. “Like Chris used to be. He was treated like an animal, Kauri. He didn’t get to use fucking utensils to eat in the last two places he was held, he told me himself. He can’t live on his own yet. If you kicked him out… Jesus Christ, Kauri, do you not remember how it felt when you were kicked out?”

Kauri looks like he’s been slapped. “Wait, Jake-... I didn’t mean-”

“We found you half-dead under a goddamn bush, Kauri, you can’t do that to someone else just because I got a little bit stabbed! Shit. Fuck. I gave him a burner phone, if he’s still got it on him, maybe I can call-”

“Jakob fucking Stanton!” Kauri yells so rarely, and Jake goes still, turning to look at him, seeing the anger written across Kauri’s face. Kauri angry is electric, and immensely sexy, and something Jake had gone so long thinking he would never see unless Vincent Shield showed up with a new idea for how to make up for all his failures by forcing himself around someone who hated him. “Will you fucking listen to me?!”

Jake just sits there, staring at him. He can’t even find the words. Eventually, he just nods.

“I didn’t kick him out on the street, I’m not that awful, and fuck you for thinking I am and we’re going to talk about that later when you aren’t half off your head from painkillers. I don’t want him here until you’re feeling better in case it happens again, so I-... so I sent him home with Nat. She doesn’t have anyone living with her right now, and she said okay, so he’s going to stay with her.” Kauri swallows, reaching slowly out to lay his hand on Jake’s leg. “He and I talked. He said it’s always been men, Jake. All of the ones who hurt him were men, one of them was... was really big like you, I guess. So I thought-... if he’s with Nat, maybe it won’t happen again for long enough for him to, to work it through in therapy and Dr. Berger maybe can give him, give him s-something to help. So maybe he won’t, um, hallucinate or… or w-whatever the next time.” Kauri’s eyes well up, glimmer with tears that don’t fall. “I was trying to help. I thought he’d feel safer with only a woman, maybe, and I sent him alone so that he’d know he can’t hurt Allyn, he was really scared of that, and…”

Jake’s mouth hangs open.

Kauri slumps over, his forehead slowly resting against Jake’s back where he sits slightly behind him now that Jake is nearly off the bed. “I had to make sure everyone’s safe. I didn’t know what else to do. I sent Chris to stay with Laken overnight but he’ll be back tomorrow, Antoni’s fucked up but he’s in his room and he’s safe, and all the rescues promised to stay in their rooms and Allyn tried to go with Jameson and I think they hate me now because I said no, but I didn’t-... I tried to think of what you would do, if it had been Chris or me he’d hurt. I was trying to be like you. I’m s-sorry if I fucked it up, I’m sorry, please, I thought you were going to die, please don’t be mad at me-”

“Kauri.” Jake turns, and uses his good hand to lift Kauri’s chin, meeting his eyes.

Blue on blue, always.

“I’m not mad,” He says, gently. “Not… not now. You’re right, I shouldn’t have… just been a shit deciding what you did without asking. I’m sorry. So, let me just… you spent the last couple of hours really fucking busy, huh?”

Kauri nods, kissing Jake’s fingertips, one by one. “I’m sorry,” He whispers. “I’m not… I’m not good at this, I’m not... not... I was so scared. I didn’t know what you would do, Jake, and Nat said she thought it was a good idea, so-”

“It is. It is a good idea.” Kauri blinks, surprised, and the tears that have been threatening finally run, clear as crystal, down his flushed cheeks. He looks like a fucking sculpture, Jake thinks to himself, like some artist’s idea of the perfect beautiful person. “Kauri, just. Now that I get what you were trying to do… Shit. That’s really smart.”

Kauri huffs a laugh, a kind of half-sobbing sound, and shakes his head. “It’s just, I was just guessing-”

“That’s all we ever do, too,” Jake says, voice soft. “We guess, at what we can do to help. Nat always says we make the hard choices when nobody else can. Kauri, that’s the smartest fucking idea. I’m… that’s some grace under fire shit. That’s amazing.”

“It… it is?”

“Yeah.” Jake kisses him, and Kauri tastes like mouthwash, like mint, kisses back with desperate intensity. “Yeah, Kaur. That’s even better than what I would have done. You’re so fucking smart. What made you decide to slum it with me?”

“You have a really good d-dick and I don’t w-w-want to lose access,” Kauri says, and he’s crying or laughing or maybe both. “You’re my eye candy.”

“You’re my Einstein.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself,” Jake says softly.

“Heal a little first.” Kauri sighs, half-smiling, pulling Jake back into the bed to lay down again. “Everyone’s safe, Jake. At least for now. Everyone’s okay. You need to rest, and everyone’s going to be okay.”

Jake lets his head be maneuvered back onto the pillow, feels Kauri settle back down next to him, pulling the blankets back up over them both. He’s silent for a while, lets the soft sound of the end of the movie wash over him, showing the different endings.

“I love you,” He whispers. The way the adrenaline is fading makes him sleepy, drifting in a new drowsy haze, ready to dose off again. “So much.”

“Love you, too,” Kauri murmurs.

He knows this - the couch-bed pulled out, watching movies and stand-up comedy at a low volume, a throb of pain somewhere that will heal only with time - by heart.

With Kauri’s weight and warmth beside him, it feels entirely, completely new.

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

.png

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning/s: toxic relationship dynamics, dark!bucky x dark!reader, stalking, coercion and lying, manipulative tendencies, injuries and blood mention, food was mentioned for a bit

A/N: WE ARE GETTING THERE, BABES WHEW OKAY

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

A month had passed since your not-date date had happened. You tried to forget the rest of the day, only focusing on how he looked and talked to you that day. How he smiled, trying to play off the ‘cool guy’ narrative.

You suddenly grew cold, noticing how your conversations became sparse—dry in between. Fewer texts and long waits. It made you nervous, sad, and a little bit annoyed. You barely see him around the office too—has Bucky been avoiding you?

His office is a bit out of the way for you to accidentally stumble in, anyway; the days you’re in the office were unsynchronized. Would it count as a punishable offense if you mess up with your company-approved laptop?

Saying you missed Bucky is an understatement: the bottle of cologne that smells like him sits empty on your dresser. The pictures you took of him taped loosely on your corkboard. Bits and pieces of papers he gave you tacked on it haphazardly.

Can someone die from loneliness?

Is this what being in love feels like?

Suffocating, consuming, your chest feels heavy, and your stomach is in knots.

—

Another month, another throng of employees needing new passwords. There are literal posters around the floor reminding everyone to use a password manager. Bucky can’t believe that he has to work with idiots around him. When he took up computer science as a major in college, he imagined himself hacking into… government intel, or something. Not looking after dimwits that don't know how to install an update.

His text messages are red with notifications—bank updates, deliveries, and you.

For some reason, Bucky can’t bring himself up to return your messages. Hi’s, hey’s, and how are you’s littered his text chain. Is he a bad person for not replying back? He can always just make up an excuse, right?

When you told him that you liked him, kissed him like you meant it, his fondness dispersed into thin air. The easy is never worthy and the worthy is never easy, as his father told him.

A ding from his phone brought him forth, another text from you: coming up right now, can we talk?

Now, he can’t come up with an excuse.

—

Bucky heard you before you come in, knocking on his door like the first time you met.

He clears his throat, calling out a come in! before rolling back from his cluttered desk. Tickets were few and far in between, he knows he can spare you at least 20 minutes but he just doesn’t want to.

“Hey,” you said, your head poking into his office. You weren’t entirely sure why you came up here in the first place, you really, really, really just wanted to see him again.

Bucky chuckles, pulling the door open for you. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

You breathe out a little, shaking the feeling sinking deep inside your stomach, “yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” Stepping into his office, you eye his desk. He’s been busy. Papers and files are piling up on the left side of his desk, half of his setup is covered with those post-it notes. Several mugs littered his small space.

Huh, “Sorry, I can come back some other time.”

Turning on your heel, you pivot a little to grab the door when Bucky grabs your upper arm, “don’t go—”

He realizes the implications if someone were to see the two of you and so he lets go, much to your discomfort. You face him, either way, you’re sure he’s not gonna let you go that easily.

“Sorry, it’s just- I missed you.”

And there it was. I missed you.

He was thinking about you.

“I was just gonna drop off some files… But,” you rake your brain for a coherent train of thought, “I missed you too.”

A smile of relief overcomes Bucky’s features, his eyes crinkling just the way you like. His steely blue eyes hidden beneath his lashes.

“I have uh, a thing later… Dinner with friends—do you wanna come?” You make a show of peering over his shoulder and onto his desk, “unless you’re busy?”

“I’d love to come.” He says, tucking his pointer finger underneath your chin, flicking it forward so you’d look at him, “what time is it?”

“Come by around seven. I’ll text you my address.”

Bucky doesn’t need your address. He already came a dozen times by your building, trying to build up the nerve to knock on your door and kiss you silly. Like in those movies you watch late at night.

But he’s conflicted, no?

Are you really as good as they come?

—

At six-thirty, you already sent the text: take the east street, beige apartment block. I’m on the third floor, second door to your right. :)

At six-fifty five, Bucky’s already there, his car idling on the sidewalk. He’s… nervous. Why is he nervous? It’s just dinner. A small get-together with friends. Speaking of friends, he didn’t see any unfamiliar cars parked on the block. Maybe it’s not work friends?

Letting out a sigh, Bucky fetches the small bouquet of flowers and wine he brought, just in case. He doesn’t wanna be the only one showing up empty-handed.

On the dot, Bucky knocks on your door. He plasters on his best smile as you open the way, revealing yourself.

God, you look gorgeous. Why did he stop hanging out with you in the first place?

Oh, right.

“Aw, flowers and wine? You’re too sweet!” You chirp out, stepping out of the way to let him into your apartment. Taking the gifts from his hands, you put them away while Bucky busies himself checking out your place.

It’s weird seeing your place in real life. Bucky noted the hint of lavender in the air, coupled with a smidge of coffee brewing. He’s so used to seeing parts of it but not everything-everything. He careens his neck to look down the hallway, catching a glimpse of your bedroom.

“If you’re lucky, you can see it tonight.” A peal of boisterous laughter comes out of you, lightly kicking his foot with yours, “I’m kidding. It’s off-limits for visitors, sorry.”

“Right…” Bucky looks around, shifting his weight from the balls of his feet up to his toes. “Am I too early? I can help you set the table.” The table is halfway finished and you’re stirring in cheese into a sauce. Roux, perhaps.

“No, it’s okay…” You trail off, lowering the heat before facing Bucky, “I lied.”

“What?”

“There’s no dinner—I mean, there is. Just not with friends.” You bite your lip, looking down on your shoes before tearing your gaze away from the floor to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“You lied? Why- why would you lie about that?” Annoyance and frustration all seep out near the surface. His jaw ticking as he gritted his teeth.

“Are you mad?”

“Are you mad?” Bucky asks back in a mocking tone, bringing his fist down the dinner, “you—you’re crazy. I knew it, I knew you’re crazy. Lying about dinner and what, trying to get me alone? Jesus, what--” He lets out a mirthless laugh, the one that sends chills down your spine.

You stood there, frozen at your spot. You’re hurt. He called you crazy. He called you crazy when he’s the one who spied on you for weeks on end.

When he’s the one who watches you at night.

When he’s the one who left those notes on your desk.

The one who sent those texts and left calls and voicemails.

“Fuck you.” Your words rang empty as Bucky walked out of the kitchen in long strides. The dinner long forgotten.

You calmly watch him turn the doorknob open, failing when the adjacent locks prevent him from opening the door. Two deadbolts and a chain lock. Never would you have thought that the threat would be coming inside your home.

“I’d think twice before leaving without dinner.”

—

Bucky stirs awake. The sound of cutlery on plates grating on his nerves. His head is throbbing. His right temple feels tight and tender, there’s something hard and crusty covering the right side of his face. He can suddenly feel the weight of his left arm, leaning over to compensate for the sudden pain.

He wasn’t aware that he had closed his eyes; the lights suddenly glaringly bright.

Right, the dinner.

The dinner?

Wasn’t he supposed to—

“Thank fuck. I thought you were dead.”

God, he hopes he is.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

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poisonheadcrabsalesman · 3 years

Text

Writing Snippets

Palmer gets a haircut (small description of scars)

Square Lasky

The Ferrets traumatize the IVs

The adventures of Jorts

Hacksaw Squad meets Fireteam Crimson

1. Palmer gets a haircut

Clippers buzzed next to her head and she unclenched her jaw as auburn clumps fell to the floor.

They had numbed her for the stitches despite her protests. The nurse leveled a flat look at her before continuing putting in neat rows of stitches. Her scalp itched at the tugging sensation and she balled her fists.

Stupid. A stupid mistake. It wasn't even a big deal, but head wounds bleed and need to be kept clean.

Now she was going to walk around with a sign on the side of her head telling the world how she fucked up.

The nurse finished up and pat her shoulder. A mirror was placed in her hands and she saw her tired face staring back at her. Tilting the mirror, her eyes traced the raw pink slice that ran from just behind her temple past her ear and down the back of her skull.

It was an angry thing, uneven and vivid, but better than it had been hours before. Apparently a screaming, blood covered demon was enough to scare the Covies into a corner. Still her armor had been a mess and the techs had seemed skittish as they helped her out of her kit.

The face looking back at her was blank. She raised an eye and felt a slight tug. Turning again she looked at the scar and the shaved stripe. The nurse who had done the stitches had offered to even her hair out and she had numbly agreed.

Sarah Palmer was not vain. She hadn't put much thought into her hair. Now the back and side of her head were exposed to the cool air and the remaining strands were tied back away from the fresh wound.

It was...something. Different.

She sat quietly through the instructions on how to keep it clean and when to come back, chewing over this new thing. She had plenty of scars, the blamite round in her left shoulder, hardlight blade on her right bicep, bullet wounds and plasma rounds having left their marks on her. She'd been born into this war and it had made her its own.

She sits there and looks. Makes faces and bares her teeth.

Huh.

This might be something.

2. Square Captain, our Captain

"Am I really square looking?" Captain Lasky asks, voice carrying from his bathroom to where Palmer and Roland were talking in his quarters.

They share a look and mouth some words before he sticks his head, face dropping from the lack of an answer.

"Your silence is deafening."

"Tom, did someone hurt your feelings, cuz I can kill them for you."

"What the Commander is trying to say is we like you and will defend your squareness."

"So you do think I'm square!" He rubs at his jaw as his brow furrows. Palmer sighs and rolls her eyes, looking to Roland as she shrugs before walking over and slinging an arm around Lasky.

"We love our square little captain." She squeezes him to her side. "Little goody two shoes Lasky with his morals and his square little head."

"Gee thanks Sarah, I can feel the love and support." He says squished against her side. "Also, I'm not short, you're a Spartan, they gave you height in the war."

"Our tiny baby Captain square head." She says pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Am I really that square?"

"Would you like me to tell you the math, sir?"

"I would!"

"We know, Sarah and no thanks, Roland, don't give her any more ammo."

"Square, square man."

"Roland, pull up the footage from g-AAH"

"Roland delete that footage! I thought there weren't any backups?"

"No can do, Spartan. It's saved in a hundred different places and you need the captain's code to make me delete it."

3. The Ferrets

"So you know how we got kicked out of group therapy because we were scaring the IVs?"

"You weren't 'kicked out', it was suggested that you three see another doctor in a more private setting."

"That's kicking us out, Mom."

“They said we needed someone to help us with our ‘unique needs and life experiences’ and that we needed to ‘stop making the IVs cry’ when we were just participating!“

"Anyways, we have a new psych and they seem cool, they were talking us through the paperwork and what we wanted."

"How was that?"

"Well we said we think we might still be legally dead so we'll get back to them."

4. The Adventures of Jorts Part ?

"Hey Roland, where's Jorts?" Captain Lasky asks and Roland deliberates on sharing the news about the ship’s newest cat.

"I'll tell you, but you can't get mad."

"Roland."

"She's in Blue Team's quarters, has been for a few days."

"Why would that make me mad?"

"Because shehadkittensunderMasterChief'sbed." Roland spits out quickly, hands clasped in front of him and a sheepish look on his avatar's face.

"Kittens? She was pregnant? Why didn't you-"

"Captain, I don't make a habit of reading the cats' biosigns. You cannot blame me for this."

At that, the captain scratches his nose and his mouth turns up a little at the corners.

"Are they there right now?"

"Yes, captain. I believe it's feeding time."

"I have time." He mutters to himself as he looks at the clock before turning to Roland. "Time for a break. Do you have pictures?"

"Of course I do! They were even talking about letting me name one!"

5. Hacksaw Squad meets (our) Fireteam Crimson

The Spartan Commander is mouthing off to your squad leader over comms, but you couldn't care less right now because three Elites twice your size are circling you and the two other marines trapped in a Forerunner base.

Red blurs replace them and two of the aliens fall dead while your eyes adjust and watch as Spartans take down the third. They nod at you and you move as a unit to rescue the other half of your squad.

They're a sight to take in as they rush hunters and punch Elites, bodily moving in between you and the attackers most of the time. One of them breaks radio silence when your squad splits up and falls in behind the two leading the attack.

They also sound panicked as they bark at the other one about where the rest of the squad is and the other responds in an equally aggressive manner. You don't have much time to think because there are drop pods incoming and too many voices chattering on the comms.

Your squad regroups on the Spartans and you clear the tower. The Spartan with the jetpack jumps off to circle around the back and check for any stragglers while the one with the horned helmet seems to take a headcount.

Phantoms surround you as your ride takes too long to get there. The Spartans, Fireteam Crimson it seems, are herding you to cover and furiously trying to keep you alive. You haven't lost a squadmate since they appeared and you are grateful for them, if a bit put off by their demeanor. Climbing on the pelican for evac you hear one speak out of their helmet’s radio while the other nudges them tiredly.

"We saved our boys."

Thanks for reading! Jorts is based off of the ship cats from @/kat-w-writes fic Iron and Gold. Most of the other stuff is in collaboration with Bellygunnr and Shitty17!

#snippets #My writing #infinity sitcom au #this is not a halo blog #I'm gonna save the sad snippets for another post #oh and the other thing #hmmm #how many tags do you need to do before you aren't in the main tags anymore?#or did tumblr break that too?#halo #Sarah Palmer #Roland #Lasky #The ferrets #Fireteam Crimson #oc tag #Rhodes #Spartan Gunny #I was told to post the unfinished random nonsense and by god here's a small chunk of it

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kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years

Text

And I figured out we’re dating in this Chili’s tonight

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: Mother Nature and warren have my whole ass HEART!!!!! I loved flower so much. I know you’re gonna write lil dates one day I wonder if you’ll write something of how they officially got together?? Like who asked who to be each other’s girlf/boyf . Would be so cute I know you’re busy but either way all your fics are *chefs kiss* —(I think this was from an anon!)

Blurb: Mother Nature and Warren are officially dating! They figured it out!

Warnings: some language and mentions of sex

Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: the timeline is kind of all over. This is set before Decay but I posted it way after! Anyway! Enjoy!

Warren was on Instagram as Scott explained the plot of Fast and The Furious 7 to Jean.

“It’s not good— but my dad loves them— mostly for the cars— but it’s supposed to be the last movie in the franchise. I think…”

Warren rarely posted— on his story and his main page— but he looked at what his friends were up to.

He tapped on (Y/N)’s profile icon to view her story— the highlight of his lunch period. She wasn’t around for the time being— she had mentioned a test she was retaking, which made Warren sad. He wouldn’t get to sit next to her and share whatever fruit she grew for lunch, but he also wanted her to do well and get good grades.

(Y/N) had posted a photo of a movie poster with the caption, “OHMYGOD!! ” followed by a blue and yellow shocked face emoji and a heart-eyed emoji. The movie poster in question was for the animated Addams Family movie.

“Is there a new Addams family movie coming out?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, (Y/N) watched the latest trailer during class. She’s really excited about it,” Jean told him.

Warren felt himself get shaky with nerves and excitement. He could ask her to go see it with him. Just him. Not with the whole group, or Jubilee third-wheeling, or Jean and Scott with them, making out in the seat next to them.

Wait.

Am I going to ask her on a date? Is that what this is? A date?

“You good?” Scott asked.

“What?” Warren glanced at him. “Oh, yeah… Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay.”

Warren went back to his phone, pressing reply to (Y/N)’s story post about the Addams Family movie coming out.

He started to type out a message.

“Hey. Would you want to see this together when it comes out? We could also go out for dinner?” Warren then promptly deleted the entire message.

No, no. That makes me sound like a lonely middle-aged mom. He thought to himself.

“I think it was fine!”

“Ah!” Warren flinched. “Did you read my mind, Jean?”

“No…” Jean denied.

Warren frowned.

“I was curious as to what you were doing, and you were really nervous and your thoughts are loud anyway.”

“What?” Scott asked.

“Warren’s trying to ask (Y/N) out on a date to the movies,” Jean explained.

“It’s not a date!” Warren tried to defend.

“When is it ever going to be a date?” Scott asked. “It wasn’t a date when she slept over in your room and you watched Phineas and Ferb and ordered pizza. It wasn’t a date when you spent three hours at the library studying together. It wasn’t a date when you spent the afternoon together and she told you her secret brownie recipe! When is it ever going to be a date?”

“I… I don’t… Those were not dates...”

“They kind of were,” Jean admitted. “That’s what people do on dates. Scott and I do stuff like that all the time…”

Warren blinked.

“You’ve dated people before, right?” Scott asked him.

“I mean “date” is a loose term but, yeah…”

Scott decided he didn’t have time to unpack that sentence. “Okay. What did you do with them to like, spend time together, and stuff?”

“We mostly just got drunk and hooked up…”

Scott sighed, “You sound like my brother after he got out of jail.”

“Warren, have… you… never been on a real date before?” Jean asked.

“Well, um, I mean, my last “girlfriend” and I went to clubs and stuff in Germany, but we’d usually go with some friends…” He admitted.

“Oh my god…” Scott mumbled.

Warren panicked. “Wait, did— Did (Y/N) think we were dating this whole time?”

“I don’t know,” Jean shrugged.

“Everyone else thought you guys were,” Scott muttered.

“So we’ve been dating this whole time?”

“I mean, kind of…”

Warren paled. He had no idea what to do. Were they dating? Were they not dating? What was he supposed to do as a boyfriend? Or not a boyfriend?

“Just ask her, ‘what are we?’ That should clear things up.”

Warren gawked at Scott. “What are we? That’s the cliche that makes guys run for the hills! I can’t ask her that!”

“(Y/N)’s reasonable,” Jean reminded him. “If you ask her that, she won’t run away.”

Warren didn’t say anything back.

“Just ask her what you were originally going to say on Instagram.”

Warren whined.

“Do it now.” Jean advised. “Before Jubilee makes plans to see the movie with her.”

Warren paled at the possibility of (Y/N) not being available. He quickly typed out another message and sent it.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, I just did that! Hhhhh…” Warren quickly threw his phone on the table and refused to look at it.

Jean chuckled and rolled her eyes, taking his phone to see if (Y/N) replied.

—

(Y/N) finished her test early and decided to check up on some of the plants in the attic greenhouse before her next class.

She had been focusing on a baby caladium, making sure it had plenty of sun and water and was growing at a healthy pace.

(Y/N) named it, Warren Worthington IV, but she told no one and would take that piece of information to the grave.

As she was poking Warren the Fourth’s soil to see if it needed water for the day, she felt her phone vibrate against her thigh in her pocket.

She pulled it out to see that Warren— the Third— had replied to her Instagram story. Her eyes turned pink just by reading his name on her phone screen.

“Do you want to see this together Friday night? We could go to Chili’s before and get dinner?”

(Y/N) read the message over at least ten times. Dinner and a movie? Was Warren asking her on a date?

Her eyes were orange in confusion and purple due to nerves.

She took a few minutes but finally responded with, “Yeah! There’s a showing on Friday at 9 at the theatre by the mall. Does that work?”

Warren immediately hearted the message and said, “Yeah :)”

(Y/N) hearted his message. Excited and a bit nervous for Friday, she left the attic and headed to her next class.

—

(Y/N) ignored any work she had after class and immediately went through her closet, rummaging for clothes.

“Whatcha doing?” Ororo asked, setting her books on her bed.

“You’ve been on plenty of not date dates,” (Y/N) began. Ororo gave her a curious look. “What would you wear?”

“Are you going out on a date?” Ororo asked.

“Well, not exactly…” (Y/N) confessed.

Ororo smirked as she opened her notebook and started working on an assignment, “Is it with Warren?”

“Who else would it be?” (Y/N) asked.

“I don’t know… Dylan from math class? Ruby from my yoga class? The handful of people from Bayville you’ve kissed at house parties before you even knew Warren? There are options.”

(Y/N) was not amused.

“Are you and Warren going out on a date? Or is this a ‘we’re just hanging out… alone together… but just as friends! Because we are friends! Who like each other very romantically! But we refuse to do anything about it!’”

(Y/N) sighed. “Okay, so he didn’t explicitly say it was a date, but we’re seeing the new Addams Family movie and going to Chili’s.”

Ororo blinked in shock, Warren asked (Y/N) to see a movie about one of her favorite franchises and go to one of her favorite go-to restaurants, and he didn’t clarify if it was a date or not?

What a dumbass, Ororo mused, tearing herself away from her work to go on her phone.

Ororo

Are you and (Y/N) going on a date?

No response.

Ororo went back to her homework, glancing at (Y/N) every so often to give feedback on the numerous items she pulled out of her closet.

“Is a dress too much?”

“Definitely,” Ororo stated without looking up. “I’ve only worn a dress twice since I came here and one I borrowed from Jubilee.”

(Y/N) sighed and kept looking for options. Ororo’s phone screen lit up, and she quickly grabbed it, checking to see if Warren responded.

Warren

I think so???

Ororo

What do you mean? “i tHiNk So”

Warren

*not amused emoji*

I’m not sure if we’re dating or not. We were gonna talk about it at dinner.

“Are you and Warren dating?” Ororo asked.

(Y/N) froze at the question, unsure what to say. “I mean… no… but like, we like each other— or I like him. I think he likes me. Sometimes I’m not really sure—”

“—(Y/N),” Ororo interrupted. “He likes you a lot. Assume this is a date.”

“Assume— What?” (Y/N) gaped.

Ororo looked at her phone again, seeing five text messages from Warren in panic, asking why she didn’t respond.

Ororo

Calm down!

You should thank me

Warren

Ro…

What did you do?...

Ororo

You have to trust me… ;)

Warren

*Not amused emoji*

Ororo left Warren on read and continued her assignment. Until someone barged into the room, unexpected.

Jubilee came in, bubbling with enthusiasm. “I heard from Jean! Oh my god, I have to help you pick out an outfit! This is huge!”

“It’s not a date…” (Y/N) awkwardly tried to explain.

“Oh, no— it definitely is!”

Ororo and (Y/N) were both confused.

“We all know Warren is a little… emotionally hesitant…” Juilee carefully stated. “But like, if it was anyone else they would have literally said, “Wanna go on a date with me and see The Addams Family?” Warren’s just scared you’d say no— which you’d never do.”

“Is he— I thought he knew I liked him?”

“He’s a guy,” Jubilee explained as she looked in (Y/N)’s closet for something she could wear. “They never know what they’re doing.”

(Y/N) sat on the floor, with more questions than answers from everything Jubilee had said.

“This would be perfect!” It was a black skater skirt. “Skirts are your best friend in times like these.”

“Huh?”

“Incase anything happens… Duh!” Jubilee stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. (Y/N) didn’t respond, causing Jubilee to groan.

“From That 70s Show? Skirts are your best friend for sex. Zip, zip, bim, bam! You’re done, you’re dressed, you’re back to whatever you were doing. Nobody suspects a thing!”

“Jubilee, they’re seeing a kids movie, not having sex,” Ororo told her.

“Hmm…” Jubilee crossed her arms. “You should still wear the skirt. You look really pretty in it anyway.”

(Y/N) sat there, eyes wide and purple, mind reeling, trying to process what Jubilee said.

“We’re… We’re not going to have sex, are we? I’m not— I don’t think— I don’t even know if we’re dating or not!”

“Hey, hey— Jubilee’s just messing around.” Ororo moved from her bed to sit next to (Y/N) and rub her back. “She’s just used to Scott and Jean’s shenanigans. Plus, Warren’s a good guy! He won’t pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to and he’s too nervous to do anything like that anyway.”

“Warren’s like, obsessed with you, in a good way. And if he doesn’t respect your boundaries I can snap his neck for you.” Jubilee innocently smiled and batted her eyes.

“Thanks… Do you think my soft dark green sweater would look good with the skirt?”

“Oh my god yes!” Jubilee grabbed it out of the closet and set it on (Y/N)’s bed. “And with your Doc Martens? Goth little plant goddess vibes. I love it.”

“You think I’ll be warm enough? Should I bring a jacket?” (Y/N) checked the weather on her phone.

“You should be fine! Besides, if you’re cold…” Jubilee smirked. “You can always cuddle with Warren in the movie theatre.”

Ororo smiled and rolled her eyes, while (Y/N) decided to humor her, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

—

Friday couldn’t come soon enough— Warren kept thinking about how (Y/N) said, “Yes.” And about what might happen, how he would bring up the question that would change everything. He was distracted during training, nervous, and lost in thought. He constantly talked about his weekend plans with some of their friends.

Some found it annoying at first, but most had never seen Warren so passionate about something before. It was sweet.

“I dunno, I just want things to go well. But what if I make things awkward? I say or do something really stupid? What if I spill my drink all over my crotch and then it looks like I peed myself?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ororo reassured him.

“What if our server flirts with her?”

“Just glare at them. You’re scary enough.”

Warren sighed, wishing time moved as fast for him as it did for Peter.

“Just be yourself and have a good time. Open doors for her, tell her she’s beautiful, if she’s cold give her your jacket, walk her back to her dorm room— things like that.” Ororo told him. “Those will make it obvious that it’s a date. Because you guys do date activities all the time, and you refuse to admit it’s a date.”

Warren huffed at her. Ororo stuck out her tongue.

—

It was Friday.

(Y/N) had been antsy in all of her classes, just wanting them to end so she could get ready for the night.

She had her outfit picked out and ready. (Y/N) planned on light makeup— a little eyeshadow and lipgloss— and she had a small little purse packed with a few things.

(Y/N) started to doubt herself. “Maybe a skirt is too much… It’s dinner and a movie… Maybe I should just wear jeans…”

She huffed as she held the skirt up to her waist. “But I wanna look cute… Screw it!”

(Y/N) slipped the skirt and sweater on, doing a french tuck, and then started to apply makeup. She was done in under thirty minutes, and then looked over her hair in the mirror, trying to hastily pluck out leaves and shove flowers into different areas of her head and strategically place them under specific sections.

Once (Y/N) was satisfied with how she looked, she checked the time. It was 5:30, and (Y/N) and Warren weren’t leaving until six. So she had time to just sit around and wait.

(Y/N) pulled her phone out and opened Snapchat, choosing to take at least a hundred selfies with different filters.

Holding her phone from different angles, making different faces, posing in slightly different positions, and choosing a new filter every five photos, almost like a mini-photoshoot in the palm of her hand. Some selfies got posted to her Snapchat story, others were sent to Jubilee and Ororo, and the remainder were saved but would probably never see the light of day. She huffed and tapped through people’s Snapchat stories to kill more time.

Warren asked Jubilee for help.

Well, he didn’t exactly ask, she just texted him, “I’m helping you get ready.” And he thanked her.

“One of the hottest things a guy can do is have good hygiene. You, surprisingly, already have accomplished that—”

“Hey!” Warren frowned as he pulled his leather jacket out from his closet. “Did you, like, think I didn’t?”

“No! I’m just surprised you know what exfoliate means… Do you have a different jacket? That one is cute and everything, but it’s a bit much.”

“It’s the easiest one I can get my wings out of,” Warren explained while slipping on a black shirt.

“Why? Also, do you only wear black?” Jubilee complained.

“In case (Y/N) gets cold…? Also, no, I have that one yellow sweater you made me get and some white shirts.” Warren defended.

Jubilee almost scoffed, “(Y/N)’s not going to get cold. You’re going out to eat and the movies.”

“Well, Ororo said I should give her my jacket in case she is cold.”

“Fair enough,” Jubilee mumbled. “I was supposed to hang out with Ororo tonight… We were going to make Tiktoks and watch Wonder Woman.”

“I thought she went stargazing with Kurt?” Warren asked as he laced up his boots.

“Yeah! And they didn’t invite me!” Jubilee flopped onto Kurt’s empty bed and huffed.

“Jubilee— I don’t think—”

“I’m a fucking delight to be around!”

Warren’s eyes widened, “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

“It sucks because Kurt’s got the accent, he can sword fight, he likes movies but hates Tarantino, he’s respectful, god and he’s just as hot as Ororo.”

“Um…” Warren furrowed his brows. “Do you think, maybe— maybe uh, Ororo thinks you like Kurt?”

Jubilee looked at him with a deadpan expression. Warren panicked, thinking he said the wrong thing.

“I like both of them, Bird brain! It’s the fact they haven’t expressed liking me at all and probably don’t want that. Also like half of the girls at Bayville think Kurt’s hot and try to kiss him at house parties.”

“Oh…” Warren hadn’t considered that. “Um… I uh, I had a threesome once—”

“Oh my god! Stop!” Jubilee cringed. “I don’t wanna hear about that right now! Go get your girlfriend, and like, yawn, and stretch your arm out over her while Gomez confesses his undying love for Morticia for the millionth time.”

“Okay, okay.” Warren grabbed his phone and wallet. “Don’t spend all night in here,” He advised, leaving Jubilee alone in his room.

—

Warren sent (Y/N) a text, asking if she was ready. She said yes, and asked him to meet her in the common room area.

Warren found her sitting in a lounge chair, talking to a student. (Y/N) turned her head and saw Warren. She got up and smiled, bid the other person goodbye, and then walked over to Warren.

“Hey!” She greeted him.

“Uh, hey.” Warren tried to discreetly check her out. She looked nice. “You look really nice.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” (Y/N)’s pink eyes shifted to a slightly purple hue. “You do too.”

“Thanks… Are you ready to go?”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah. What car are we taking?”

“Um…” Warren realized he didn’t decide on which one of Xavier’s numerous cars he was taking out for the night. Not that it mattered, but he was a bit frustrated with himself on that one.

“I don’t know…”

(Y/N) snickered to herself. “That’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Jubilee and I do have a rule though.”

“What is it?”

“Whatever car Scott and Jean took last, don’t even touch it.”

Warren blinked, “I don’t get it.”

(Y/N)’s eyes turned purple completely.

“Um, uh, it’s cause um— it’s not... clean...”

“Oh…” Suddenly, everything connected in Warren’s mind.

“Oh!”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah...”

“Scott likes the Oldsmobile rocket. Maybe we should avoid that one…”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

They picked a different car. Warren didn’t get a chance to open the door for (Y/N), but he told himself the night had only just begun, and he’d get another chance.

“Want me to play some music?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sure! Play whatever you want.”

“You don’t have a preference or anything…?” She questioned, while her thumb hovered over the play button of a playlist.

“Not really… Besides, I can pick next time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed purple and she mumbled in agreement and started a playlist.

Warren cursed internally to himself. Why would I say that? Why did I say that!? As if I’d have the privilege of going out with her again after that dumbass sentence.

Warren made a lame attempt to change the subject. “Are you excited about the movie?”

“Yeah! They announced the cast like a year ago, and I thought it was going to be live-action, but animation is probably better for The Addams Family. It’s supposed to be really good! Oscar Isaac is voicing Gomez—”

“—Who?”

“Poe from Star Wars…”

“Finn’s boyfriend?” Warren asked.

(Y/N) smiled, “Yeah, yeah. Him.”

“I haven’t seen anything else he’s been in, but Kurt and Scott say he’s a really good actor.”

“Hmm…” I wonder if she thinks he’s hot… I mean Oscar is, but I doubt I can compete with that.

No, no, Worthington. Remember what Jean said, “No self-deprecating thoughts.”

“Pugsley’s voiced by Finn Wolfhard. He was in Stranger Things…”

Warren nodded, he knew what Stranger Things was. He watched it with Jubilee, Kurt, and Ororo over Labor Day weekend.

“He plays Will, right?”

“No. Finn has curly hair…” “Dustin?...” Warren was unsure about his answer, but he knew Dustin had curly hair.

“Mike. Eleven’s boyfriend? Black hair?”

“Oh… Okay… I feel really stupid. I should have known that.”

(Y/N) scoffed, “You’re fine. There’s like seven of them, and that’s not even including the adults and the characters our age.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I guess. I might rewatch it…”

An idea came to (Y/N), “We should have like, a marathon with our friends! We could also play D&D.”

“I never played before,” Warren admitted.

“I haven’t either really… but I kind of know how to play… Scott’s played before! He was really into D&D before he came to Xavier’s.”

Warren chuckled quietly, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of a dork, but just because you play a board game doesn’t mean you’re lame.”

“Yeah— Do you see any parking spots?” Warren asked.

(Y/N) shifted in her seat, looking for an empty spot, “Yeah, right there.”

Warren slowed down and started to pull in. “God, I’m so bad at parking. Please don’t judge me.”

(Y/N) laughed, “You can’t be bad as Jubilee. She tried to park at the mall and ran over a curb. We thought the tired popped off!”

“No!” Warren gasped.

(Y/N) nodded, “The car was fine, but Jubilee had Jean drive home.”

Warren snickered as he put the car in park and then turned it off.

(Y/N) got out before Warren could open the door for her. He bit his lip in frustration.

“Oh, the sun is so pretty!” (Y/N) cooed. “I love golden hour sometimes.”

“I don’t… What?” Warren wasn’t too sure what golden hour was. Jubilee had mentioned it before, but he never asked what it meant.

“Come here—” (Y/N) pulled out her phone and held it horizontally. “Get in the frame and smile!”

Warren obliged, smiling and doing an awkward peace sign. (Y/N) grinned, also doing a peace sign, with her eyes closed and tongue poking out slightly.

“Let me see how it turned out— Oh my god! We look amazing.” She was practically gleaming as she angled the phone towards Warren so he could see the photo.

Warren smiled.

��Want me to send this to you?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

“There!” (Y/N) smiled. “I sent it.” Warren thanked her and they headed into Chili’s.

He managed to open the door in time for (Y/N).

“Oh…” Her eyes shifted to a slight violet hue, the nerves of is this a date or not? Coming back to her. “Thanks…”

“You’re welcome.”

The hostess greeted them and asked how many were in their party.

“Two,” Warren responded.

“Alright, follow me.” She grabbed two menus and had them follow her to a booth.

“Here you guys are. Your server will be with you soon.”

“Oh my god, I’m really hungry…” (Y/N) unfolded her menu and buried her nose in it.

“Uh, me too…” Warren browsed his menu.

“Hi, I’m Ariana, I’ll be your server tonight! What can I get you guys started with to drink?”

“I’ll have a Coke Zero,” Warren told her.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade,” (Y/N) answered.

“I’ll get those right out for you.”

“Thanks!”

She walked off, leaving Warren and (Y/N) alone.

“Do you know what you’re gonna get?” (Y/N) asked. She was eyeing the nachos and the chicken crispers.

“Uh… Not really…” Warren awkwardly admitted. “The fajitas look good, but that’s a lot of food.”

“Yeah, they’re good though.”

Their server came back with their drinks asking if they needed more time to look at the menu. She smiled and said she’d be back.

“You’ve been here before, right?” (Y/N) asked Warren. She swore he had, but perhaps she was wrong.

“Once, with the guys. We were comforting Peter after another failed Tinder date. I think I got... nachos? I don’t remember.”

(Y/N) chuckled to herself. “Peter needs to try another dating app.”

“He’s got like three.”

“Oh, jeez— Jubilee almost downloaded tinder but she doesn’t need it.”

Warren furrowed his brows, “Huh? Isn’t she into that one dude from Bayville? And Ororo?”

(Y/N) nodded and took a sip of her lemonade.

Warren jokingly rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand her.”

Ariana came back, asking if they were ready to order.

“Yeah, um, I’ll have the nachos with chicken,” (Y/N) told her.

“Nachos with chicken,” Ariana repeated. “And you?” She asked Warren.

“I’ll have the Santa Fe chicken salad.”

She wrote it down on a little notepad, “Santa Fe chicken salad. Alrighty! Those will be right out.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

(Y/N) took another sip of her lemonade, letting it fill the silence.

Warren was suddenly very nervous. “Um…” “You okay?... Is there something on my face? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” (Y/N) started to worry.

“You don’t have any lipstick on…” Warren stated a bit dumbfounded.

“Oh…”

“Um, anyway, I um— I like— I want, no. Um, is this— Is this a date?”

“Um…” (Y/N) froze up for a moment. “You asked me out.”

“Um, yeah, if you don’t want this to be a date, it like, isn’t then, you know? I mean, I didn’t really specify.”

“I kind of thought this was a date,” (Y/N) admitted.

Kind of… That’s good— Wait. Does she not want this to be a date?

“Do you want this to be a date?” Warren asked.

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind if it was, but like, we’re just friends so if you didn’t mean for it to be a date then that’s cool. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

(Y/N) avoided eye contact as she drank more lemonade, her eyes fully purple.

“No, no! Um, I do want this to be a date. I um, I really, uh, I really like you.” Warren nervously confessed.

God, I hope I die here, right now, He silently pleaded.

“Uh, yeah… I like you too… That’s kind of why I’ve been like, hanging out with you, alone, um, a lot…”

“Me, um— me too.” Warren awkwardly took a sip of his soda.

“Great.”

“...”

“Are— are we... dating?” Warren asked.

“Uh… I guess so?” (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how to respond, but when she saw Warren’s face fall slightly she quickly changed her words.

“I mean, I think we are. I hope so. Um—”

“—We’re dating then?” Warren asked.

“We’re dating!”

“Great!”

Soon as they figured it out, Ariana came in with their food.

“Alright, I’ve got the Sante Fe chicken salad,” She set the plate in front of Warren. “And the nachos with chicken!” She set that plate in front of (Y/N).

“Do you guys need anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now,” Warren told her. “Thanks, though.”

“Let me know if you need anything!” Ariana left the couple to eat their food.

“Oh my gosh, yours looks really good,” (Y/N) commented.

“You can have some if you want,” Warren offered.

“Oh, thanks!”

“Yeah, of course.”

The conversation died down a bit as Warren and (Y/N) focused on their food, but Warren was internally stressing.

I have no idea what boyfriends do. Am I doing a good job right now? What if she tells Jubilee and then Jubilee murders me because so far I’m a shitty boyfriend?

Maybe I can hold her hand while we watch The Addams Family… How do I initiate that? What if she doesn’t want to hold my hand?

Why do I want to hold her hand?... Warren almost visibly shuddered at the feeling of love. Ew… feelings…

Warren snapped back into reality for a moment, watching (Y/N) spill a piece of chicken into her lap.

“Shoot!”

Warren didn’t need his eyes to turn pink to show he was awestruck by her. She’s adorable… I’m so lucky to be her boyfriend…

—

Once they had finished, their server Ariana came back asking if they needed to-go boxes and if they wanted the check.

“Do you want it separate or together?”

“Together,” Warren told her. (Y/N) furrowed her brows for a moment, eyes a bit orange, as Ariana left to go get the check.

“I’m paying,” Warren stated nonchalantly as he got his card out.

“Oh, okay.”

Ariana came back with two to-go boxes and the check.

Warren handed her his card and she walked away.

(Y/N) started to put her leftover nachos in her box. Warren scooped his leftover salad into his to-go box.

“Alright! Here’s your card and receipt,” Ariana handed those to Warren. “Do you guys need anything else?”

“I think we’re good.”

“Alright! Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Warren was figuring out how much to tip. “Is like, $10 good?”

“What?” (Y/N) asked.

“To tip…?” Warren awkwardly said.

“What’s the total?”

“Uh… $28.76.”

“Warren, that’s like a 35% tip, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Warren shrugged. “Look, servers don’t get paid enough.”

“You’re right.”

Warren finished filling out his receipt, then he looked at (Y/N). “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep! I’ll get the boxes.” (Y/N) picked hers up and reached over for Warren’s.

“No, I got it. I can carry them.”

“No, I can carry them,” (Y/N) insisted.

“I’m your boyfriend, let me carry them,” Warren insisted.

(Y/N)’s heart did a flip at the fact he said, boyfriend.

“... Fine…” She let Warren carry the to-go boxes.

He also managed to open the door for her when they left.

(Y/N) was still trying to process the fact they were dating.

What’s the date? I should write it down. So I can remember for our first anniversary!

Will we last that long?... I hope so… I really like Warren… Maybe I should tell him?

No… That’s kind of embarrassing…

“So…” (Y/N) trailed off.

“Yeah?” Warren asked, eyes on the road.

“I don’t know…” She admitted.

“Oh…” Things were starting to get awkward. Warren didn’t want things to be awkward. Awkwardness would ruin the relationship.

But Warren was bad at small talk. He was bad at socializing, period. And while he had improved, he still got nervous. He hated being nervous— scared. He didn’t want to come off as weak or vulnerable.

But he didn’t want to come off as scary or cold-hearted either.

It was a hard scale to balance.

“Okay, I don’t want to be rude, but who taught you how to drive?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sean…?” Warren stated.

(Y/N) face practically lit up in realization, “That explains a lot.”

”What do you mean?”

“You were taught how to drive by someone who originally learned how to drive on the other side of the road!”

“That— What does that have to do with my shitty parking?” Warren asked. “I drive on the “right side of the road”.

(Y/N) laughed.

“Look,” Warren explained. “If I’m bad at parking that’s on me. The lines caught me!”

“Haha! Yeah.” (Y/N) laughed. “At least you don’t hit curbs like Jubilee.”

Warren laughed, “Yeah!”

“Come on— I want to get good seats!” Warren put the car in park and turned it off. (Y/N) and he both got out and walked towards the theatre. Along the way she (not-so) discreetly slipped her hand into Warren’s. He blushed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. (Y/N) did her best to not grin her face off.

Warren had to let go of (Y/N)’s hand momentarily, so he could open the door, causing her to frown a bit and her eyes to go a bit grey.

This is a crime! I don’t want to let go of his hand!

Warren slipped his hand back into (Y/N)’s once they were inside, and her eyes went back to their “normal” pink shade.

Warren paid for their tickets and they picked out seats in the back row. They weren’t in the center, but sitting in the back row was best due to Warren’s wings.

“Auditorium three is on your left!” The ticket ripper told them as she ripped their tickets in half and handed them back.

“Thanks!... Do you want any snacks?” Warren asked (Y/N) as they passed the concession stand to auditorium three.

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” (Y/N) said. “You?”

“No, not really.”

They walked into auditorium three and looked around for their seats.

“Wow, it’s really crowded,” Warren observed. He was a bit nervous, folding his wings back tightly as he could.

“Yeah, it’s opening night,” (Y/N) reminded him. “Row G is up this way.”

He was used to the stares for the most part, but he hadn’t been exposed to many kids and soccer moms outside the mansion— not that there exactly were any soccer moms at Xavier’s.

Luckily, Warren didn’t see anyone glare at him or (Y/N). They both got into their seats without any problem. Their seats were recliners, where if you moved the arm up, you could almost be on top of each other.

Warren thought this would be perfect for him to maybe wrap his arm around (Y/N), but he was far too nervous. Their hands were still intertwined, which was good enough for him, but Warren was trying with all his might to not have his hand get sweaty.

That would be so embarrassing…

Once they got situated, and the movie trailers began, (Y/N)’s eyes were focused on the screen. Warren glanced at her for a moment, once the lights dimmed, but his gaze quickly flickered to the screen as to not get caught.

“That movie looks good!” (Y/N) whispered into Warren’s ear. He nodded, not exactly sure what he should respond with.

Halfway through the film, while Gomez was saying something stupidly romantic to Morticia, Warren did something risky.

Well, not necessarily risky, but if Jubilee or Scott caught him doing it, they’d tease him relentlessly.

Warren yawned, not very loudly, and then stretched his arm out and over (Y/N)’s shoulders. He fiddled with a leave that dangled from her head.

His heart was racing. Oh my god, she’s going to think I’m a weirdo. Why did I do that? Who even does the yawn and stretch move anymore? Literally no one!

(Y/N)’s heart started racing when she realized what he had done, Oh my god! Oh my god… This is happening! Oh my god! Just relax, (Y/N), just relax. Be cool. Warren’s cool… he’s being effortless at this “dating” thing…

They were both too nervous to initiate any further and decided to get reabsorbed in the plot of the movie.

—

As the credits rolled and the lights came back on, Warren and (Y/N) gained space between them awkwardly pretending like nothing happened.

(Y/N) filled the awkward silence by raving about the film.

“I loved it! I thought it was so cool, you could see all the family members in the background and like, the backstory they gave them was really creative, and just oh my god the animation style was super neat too! I liked what they did with Ophelia’s design, even though she wasn’t in it very long.”

“Who’s Ophelia?” Warren asked.

“So she’s Morticia’s sister— they look almost the same, except Morticia is goth and Ophelia is more like me. She has flowers growing on her head and stuff— she was in the background, you probably missed her.”

“That’s cool,” Warren mused.

“Yeah, she was more in the TV show… What did you think of the movie?”

“Oh! I thought it was really good! I liked it. The story really, like, reaches out to modern issues and stuff…”

“Like how everyone was rude to the Addams family because they were gothic and a little different?” (Y/N) asked as she pushed open the door.

“Yeah. I think if the Addams were real, they’d be mutants,” Warren said as they walked out on to the parking lot.

“Oh definitely!” (Y/N) agreed.

Warren smiled as he fished the car keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the car.

(Y/N) and Warren both got in the car and put on their seat belts. Warren then backed out of the parking lot and made his way onto the main road to drive back to Xavier’s.

“So uh… Are we gonna, like, tell our friends we’re dating?” (Y/N) asked.

Warren blinked.

“Yeah? Did you— do you not want to?” Warren felt like he had just seen someone kick a puppy.

“No!— No, I do!” (Y/N) clarified.

Whew!

“I just— I don’t know how I guess? Jubilee walked in on Jean and Scott making out in her room and then she told everyone and then Scott was all, like, super awkward about it, but then they admitted they were dating.”

“Sounds stressful,” Warren decided. “We could just like, text the group chat?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged. “That works.”

X-BABES

(Y/N)

So… Warren and I dating

Jubilee

Finally!

Scott

^^lol. Congrats.

Kurt

Weren’t you already dating?

(Y/N)

No?...

Kurt

…

……….

(Y/N) laughed quietly to herself.

“What’s up?” Warren asked.

“Kurt thought we were dating this whole time,” She explained.

“Oh… Oh?”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t tell him anything— that like, wasn’t true. I don’t know why he thought that—”

(Y/N) giggled. “Ren, it’s fine. We’ve shared a bed before— in your guys’ room no less— he’s gonna assume stuff.”

“Still…”

“Well, we’re dating now… So, it doesn’t really matter,” (Y/N) pointed out.

Warren couldn’t hide the blush on his face at the fact they were finally dating. He hoped it was too dark for (Y/N) to see it.

“Do I turn left here?” He asked.

“Yeah, then you turn into the gates.”

Warren did so and drove around the X-Mansion, into the garage.

“I’ll grab the food and put it in the fridge,” (Y/N) told Warren as he turned the car off.

“Okay.”

They both got out of the car— (Y/N) opening the back door to grab the white to-go boxes.

Warren followed her into the mansion.

They stopped in the kitchen and (Y/N) set the boxes on the counter. “Do you see a sticky note or a pen or something? I need to mark these as ours.”

“Uh…” Warren looked around the room before spotting a marker. “Here,” He handed it to (Y/N). She scribbled their names down and shoved the leftovers into the fridge.

“Now what do you wanna do?” (Y/N) asked Warren.

“Uh… we could um… like, go upstairs maybe?”

“Do you want to?” She asked.

“I mean if you want to, yeah.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

Warren panicked a bit. “If you don’t we don’t have to. We can, like, just kind of chill and see what our friends are doing.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“Oh, okay.” Warren avoided awkward eye contact as they headed upstairs.

“We could, um, go to my room…?” (Y/N) offered up.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Warren was nervous. He wasn’t sure why— He had no reason to be. He’d been in (Y/N)’s room before. Alone. They’d also spent loads of time together alone doing “couple things” as Scott put it.

So why was he nervous?

Warren didn’t have time to linger on the thought as he walked into (Y/N)’s room.

It was a bit cluttered, but he wouldn’t consider it messy. With plants strewn everywhere— floor, walls, ceiling— and some books, posters, and other things you’d expect in (Y/N) and Ororo’s room.

Ororo wasn’t there though.

“Um, I had a really fun time tonight,” (Y/N) said. Her back was facing Warren for a moment as she doted on a small potted plant.

“Me too… um… what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uh, nothing? I mean Jubilee mentioned going to the skate park tomorrow to take pictures… but she didn’t really say when…” (Y/N) trailed off and turned around to face Warren.

Their eyes met. (Y/N) stepped forward, towards him.

She glanced at his lips for a moment too long.

Warren gulped.

“Can I kiss you…?” (Y/N) murmured.

Warren’s mouth gaped. “Uh, yeah.”

(Y/N) leaned in to kiss him, her hands cupping his face. Their lips met. (Y/N) shifted her head a bit as her lips pressed onto his and kissed him. She hooked his bottom lip with her teeth, lightly biting it for a moment. Her hands grabbed the hair near the nape of his neck.

Warren’s arms were wrapped around her waist, his hands resting on the small of her back.

(Y/N)’s tongue snuck into his mouth, their lips still pressing together. Warren could feel her smiling. Warren had to break away, for a moment, and regain compulsion.

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed grey for a split second. She didn’t want to stop. She had become ravenous for Warren’s lips, his tongue… for him in general. It wasn’t exactly a new feeling, but it was foreign, and she liked it.

She blinked. “Sorry, um, I didn’t mean— um, never mind.”

Warren’s jaw was practically slack. He was speechless. He was not expecting that. At all.

“Warren?” (Y/N) asked. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine!”Warren tried to seem chill. “I’m fine.”

“Oh… Well, um, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.” (Y/N) started to worry a bit, thinking maybe she went too far and he didn’t like it.

“I’m— I’m�� not uncomfortable— uh, far from it actually— um, it was, it was really nice, actually.” Warren hoped she wouldn’t look down.

“Oh, okay. Good.”

“Um, it’s kind of late—“

“—Yeah, definitely.” (Y/N) agreed.

“You said you were going to… Ulta?... With Jubilee tomorrow?” Warren awkwardly asked.

(Y/N) nodded.

“Um, I should probably go then… You don’t want to oversleep or anything…” Warren mentally scolded himself for being so awkward. He was usually better than that.

“Oh, yeah… I’ll see you tomorrow though…” (Y/N) reminded him. “We live here…”

“Right! Right…”

“...”

“I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight.” Warren quickly kissed (Y/N)’s cheek and headed out the door to his dorm.

(Y/N) stood there, still processing what just happened.

“Oh my god… Oh my god! OH MY GOD!” (Y/N) let out.

She buried her face in her hands. “HOLY SHIT! I like— Oh my god! I did that. I kissed Warren with force and passion and with tongue!” She exclaimed.

“I kissed my boyfriend with tongue. I cannot believe I did that! Oh my god!”

Unbeknownst to her, Warren had heard most of her excited screams as he left her room. He was ecstatic by her enthusiasm.

Warren went down the halls to the boys’ dormitory. Kurt wasn’t in their room, leaving Warren alone. He wanted to be alone. Alone with his thoughts for the first time in a long time. Warren wanted to lay in his bed and have the night’s events replay in his mind as he fell asleep.

Warren was officially dating (Y/N).

He didn’t have to assume things, dance on eggshells wondering if he was doing too much, he no longer had to wish he was her, and Warren didn’t have to admire her in secret.

Warren wanted to text her, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He sighed, and slipped into some pajamas, and brushed his teeth, leaving his phone open. Hoping by some miracle (Y/N) would text first and he could spend the whole night overthinking what to say back.

(Y/N) hadn’t texted him.

Warren got under his sheets and settled into bed, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling.

He grabbed his phone and decided to text her.

Warren looked at the last thing (Y/N) had sent him. It was the golden hour selfie they took together in the Chili’s parking lot.

Warren thought he looked rather silly, but he liked the photo nonetheless. He saved it to his camera roll and turned it into his lock screen background.

Warren couldn’t take it any longer, despite it only being a few minutes, he decided to text (Y/N).

Warren

(Y/N)

heyyy I thought u were going to bed *side eye emoji*

Warren

Couldn’t sleep

(Y/N)

ohhh

whatcha doing right now?

Warren

Laying in bed. not much really

(Y/N)

lol, me too. I just finished spraying the ivy hanging above my bed and my air plant, Clark

Warren’s heart swelled and he smiled at (Y/N) being so passionate about her plants.

Warren

Is that the one in the llama pot?

(Y/N)

Yea! he’s grown a lot since I got him *bug-eye emoji*

Warren

That’s good! :)

(Y/N)

Yeah!!!

I hate to do this but I’m really tired, so I’m going to go to sleep

Warren

That’s okay!! I’m going to watch some YouTube or something to fall asleep.

(Y/N)

Okay

Goodnight! *kissy-face emoji with closed eyes and blush* *smiling and blushing face with closed eyes with three hearts around it*

Warren

*bug-eyed emoji* night, flower

Warren set his phone off to the side and shifted to a more comfortable position before drifting off to sleep.

#warren worthington #warren worththington x mother nature #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x you #warren worthington iii x mother nature #warren worthington x mother nature! reader #warren worthington iii x mother nature! reader #angel x reader #archangel x reader #x-men x reader #xmen x reader #x men x reader #x-men oneshot #xmen oneshot #ben hardy x reader #mother nature! reader

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lunar-lair · 3 years

Text

ok say hello to my insanely new oc who ive made entirely to be a villain who is still an excellent adult and a decent parent, probably. cares too much abt kids. think reigen mob psycho with a drop or two of milla. worked under Nick From The Mailroom and was actually in on his scheme.

has always been rather cold and brash towards adults, but is more caring towards kids. in my brain he has a brooklyn type accent? rough and tumble, walks around without a tie, yknow? they keep him cause he sorts mail real good, though.

(added a read more because this got INSANELY LONG AKSKSK i spent like an hr on this h)

he was a delugeionist, but only because he kinda just wanted to rip the world apart a little; lysandre vibes, thinks a lot of it is scum and needs to go. thinks the *psychonauts* are scum and need to go. hes psychic but suppressed it, think aquato parents but extra toxic about it, and straight up just saying being psychic is unnatural. wouldnt go to loboto parent lengths tho. so he adopted that thought of 'being psychic is unnatural and wrong', which contributed to a lot of self hate that was never learned out. likely, he realizes hes a shitty person and thinks he needs to go too. so like...yknow hank, dbh? kinda the vibe im gettin right now. way more formal, of course, and while usually gruff, is more polite when its needed; can and *will* beat the shit out of you verbally in a factual way, though, and can talk more street-lingo if hes talkin to real thugs. (probably winged it on his own after failing college or smth, hes got the vibes.)

anyways, its this plot where he slinks off and starts planting mistrust in the psychonauts or something. and inevitably he just...shows up and starts kidnapping people. dismantling things from the inside and all that. he left and formed a group who also hated psychics at some point, likely friends of his parents and friends of friends, all from his hometown. all of them fight *insanely* dirty, and a lot of them are insanely vulgar. the kids are supposed to be kept away.

but theres a line to follow here.

this man is a fold to raz. hates the psychonauts, hates being psychic, adopted his parent's hate of psychics, hates the *world.* raz is young and unburdened and unjaded...mostly. hes not the shock of water some young characters can be when it comes to being the foils of other characters; think steven with a villain or something, right? but raz is sassy and a little jaded, and not total sunshine positivity.

hes a child this man could look down on and not be immediately annoyed by, who is worried by yet respects raz's realization of the world as it is, however little that is.

and yet raz is still his foil. he still mostly loves the psychonauts, despite it all, he loves being psychic, for the most part, he dodged adopting his parents previous values, he still seems to have an even view of the world as a whole.

raz is jaded, if only a little, but he moved past it and accepted that things could still be bright. this man is jaded, but he stayed in his stormclouds, never looked for the sun.

ok where. was i. RIGHT ok so. at the beginning of this...story? the man finds raz being talked down to by one of the office workers; someone with weak psychic powers whos insanely jealous of his prowess. an adult who envies the young prodigy. and theyre giving him some insane task to do, like cleaning all of the closets within the hour, but hes saved the world twice, so he smiles and nods along, because he said he would help around the motherlobe, and this adult is asking him to do something that seems simple enough.

and this guy, internally, goes 'bitch.' for a good long second bc 1. dude even if you envy a kid, kinda fucked to show that?? not their fault 2. WHY are you asking a 10 year old to do that. why is there a 10 year old here. holy shit thats a 10 year old oh my god hes so tiny (no one told him there was a 10 year old because they knew hed stomp right up to management but. regardless. he is going to stomp up to management after this and no one can really stop him. except maybe raz well see)

so yknow. dude fixes his slight slouch and walks forward and politely tells this woman that 1. hes 10 why are you jealous of him and 2. hes 10????????? and shes like shit hes 10. and apologizes. and walks away

and raz is VERY ?? bc she was doing what? why is him being 10 important? and its that young part of you that gets pissed when people try to keep you from doing things because youre young and hes DEFINITELY yet to learn that piling responsibilites that should be handled by adults onto a child is fucked up in its own special way (looking at you ford, *nick*)

and the dude calmly explains because yea. he gets that. and he still sounds gruff and a little peeved but he squats down to razs height and he talks simply and factually, telling him straight on why it isnt right.

and. huh. people dont really do that for raz. except for sasha, sometimes, everyone likes to dodge the truth a lot with him, because hes 10, and sometimes, hes too nice to tug it out of them.

and this guy, this man that raz is already polishing a trophy for 'good adulting' in the back of his brain with his striking statements about how adults should handle things and kids should-kids should...get to have fun. not be traumatized.

for the shock on his face when raz said hed already saved the world a couple times, whats some closets. he reigned it in, said that its weird he saved the world, because thats usually their jobs.

and this guy offers his hand on instict before he stands up, even though he doesnt seem very sweet and kind like the adults that usually offer raz a hand. and he takes it, i think. he takes it.

warm. warm, a little nice.

reminds raz of his dad, maybe. he wonders if this man has any kids himself, but keeps his mouth shut, because he thinks he already has the answer, and its yes.

(he doesnt have any. he would wish he did, but he knows hed fail to raise them right.)

and when he stands, he asks raz what he was asking that woman for, and he says hes doing tasks around the motherlobe because his papers are still coming in. the man doesnt ask. (he knows what 'papers' means, realizes this is the tiny junior psychonaut every room in the damn place has been buzzing about, and he has fucking words for forsythe.) he just offers for the kid to sort mail under his supervision.

and that sounds boring. at least, it usually would.

this man is interesting, and a good...person? a good adult? hes...hes new. hes new, and calm, and a little like sasha but a lot not, and he thinks he trusts him.

so raz grins and says yea, mail sorting sounds nice.

(debatably, raz does not take his hand. hes too jaded when it comes to adults. debatably, he does not feel any warmth from this man who has taught him every adult has been telling him wrong. debatably, im projecting. but thats the whole point of ocs, hm?)

and then holes crop up in motherlobe systems. people are kidnapped.

raz keeps seeing the strange man, keeps telling him things, keeps hearing back, gruff and factual and a little annoyed, but raz can almost-just-barely tell its not at him, with the way he talks.

he can tell. he can tell.

he can never tell. this man is making sure he can tell.

raz trusts the man, is still polishing that trophy for 'best adulting' he has settling in the back of his mind.

and then the man comes with a militia.

he did not seem jaded. he did not seem hateful. he never showed any anger or hate towards raz.

but thats because he knows kids dont deserve it.

an excellent moral or two. a rotten, broken heart.

and at first, they keep the kids away, because these people fight dirty, because this isnt their battle, because the man has been sending emails about why 15 year olds are in a secret psychic agency.

(he does not mention raz. by razs second visit, he had just marked the boy down as another reason to hate the psychonauts as a whole, and especially its higher ups.

hes also regretting his alliance to nick by about the third. if he had known the man would puppet a child as if they were a toy, he would have organized his own rebellion ages ago.)

but eventually, the psychonauts need all hands on deck.

they send the children to find the missing agents.

the interns are fought on the way. some of them avoid the child, know the boss would pummel them.

they get to the base, and the strange man, the one with the broken trophy for 'best adult' (still barely-polished, because hes still so sure) still nestled in the back of razs brain, is still there.

the junior psychonauts are spotted. one of the guards throws a few rocks aimlessly.

they surprise them. one almost hits raz.

its intercepted instead.

and the other junior psychonauts watch as this man, their enemy, a villain, in their eyes, reprimands the other man for even accidentally daring, for even trying. for doing something they might have done just a month or so ago, if they had decided he was too much weirder than they already had.

and he yells something like, "Why the hell is he even here?! This is an enemy base, of whats a rebellion! This is a *10 year old*! What kind of adult sends a child *near* something like that?!" and he truly sounds angry this time, raz finds. hes too angry to keep it in. he still sounds gruff and oddly proper. raz is standing there, arms hanging. hes baffled in a specific way, the way he was every time the man's brow furrowed when he mentioned a harrowing story, the way he was the first day they met.

and he asks, a little quiet, a little small, a reminder of how young he really is, "Why are you still trying to keep me safe? We're supposed to be enemies now."

And his brow furrows further before flattening out, and he tilts onto one leg, and he swears he almost kneels to a knee.

He cant believe it. He really cant.

"You're 10." he says simply, softly, that factual way. "You shouldn't even be here."

and raz pauses. the interns freeze.

"...well, here I am."

and i think...it would be so intriguing if this was done halfway out of the mind, because this man is so against anything psychic. it would be so *compelling.*

so raz steps forward and asks again, asks why hes doing this.

and the mans eyes harden, he tries to turn off that soft heart, trying to remind himself of all that he hates. because he hates the psychonauts, because he sort of hates the world.

and raz asks why he could ever hate the psychonauts, head tilted, before listing off the few he knows to be true. but other than that, how? and ok, the world sucks a little, yea, hes seen that, gets that.

and he appreciates that this kid isnt totally gung ho about existence.

but he hates that he isnt, too.

and its this back and forth. everything the man hates, why he hates it. raz saying why its good but admitting why its bad.

and hes swayed, just a little.

but the man stands up from the kneel hed inevitably instinctively put himself into, and walks forward, hand held out yet again.

"You shouldn't be in the Psychonauts," he tells him, soft, factual, brow furrowed. "Come with me. I'll bring you back to your parents, or wherever it is you want to go."

raz contemplates. thinks, for a long moment.

he grabs the mans hand, warm and firm, yet again, for a terrifying moment.

before he reaches up to slap a mental door on his forehead, and astral projects into it.

he thinks this man is good. thinks hes just jaded.

thinks hes the best adult hes ever met, one who just happens to hate a lot of things.

hes only 10.

hes not letting someone who can tell him so clearly whats wrong and right for adults to tell him go that easily.

aaaand yknow. raz does his razzy thing. learns about why the guy hates the world and the psychonauts and himself. helps him learn that its not all bad, that he was excellent to raz, and still is, that things can be bad and good all at once.

the man concedes that raz is very capable, very smart, and can do a lot. but that doesnt mean he should have to.

raz tells him, though, that he likes working for the psychonauts. its his dream. and he realizes some things he was told to do were kinda screwed up, now. that maybe, in honesty, he was dealt a bad hand.

but hes done what he can with that hand, and he ended up with a royal flush.

and uh! yknow!! then raz leaves his mind and he calls off the rebellion! its like a rhombus of ruin type adventure, except without the villain being present beforehand. its just not clustered in insanely close with a ton of other wild shit.

anyways this got really long? sorry?? its an oc i just saw good adult and slight father vibe potential in the vibe i instantly got on him and then i went feral???? rip maybe someone will read this and if you did. congrats i honestly really liked how the whole foil and good-yet-bad and consideration of raz being 10 thing worked out. this oc is almost like our representative in the psychonauts world the way reigen is for the audience in mp100. yea :) i match them up a lot but thats just cause they vibe a lot. anyways its 1:40 am now and i spent abt an hour on this hope it vibed mildly byeeee

#GOD THAT GOT LONG. ALSMSKKS APOLOGIES OH MH GOD #psychonauts #psychonauts oc #and my personal tag:#pn oc #trash talks #long post #like! insanely long!!!!!!! i am so so sorry maybe i should make a cut #psychonauts 2 spoilers #like a lot tbh alskssk #OK READMORE SUCCESSFULLY ADDED!!! THNX GOOGLE <3

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alj4890 · 4 years

Text

Angst Prompt

(Liam x Riley) with the prompt of Riley getting shot in another country while Liam was in Cordonia and it have been ordered by King Bradshaw as requested by Anonymous.

A/N Oof. What a way to knock me off my fluff kick, LOL. This isn't a part of my AU's but let's see what I can do for your prompt, Nonny. This takes place after the Bradshaw/Isabella mess but before Barthlemy's challenge. I guess I will ruin that brief moment of peace, LOL.

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

News

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

"Here we go, princess." Liam settled his seven month old in her swing. "How about you help your father with reading through these proposals the Council is considering?"

Eleanor smiled around the teething ring she had put in her mouth.

Liam pressed a quick kiss to her cheek then started the swing.

He settled behind his desk, finally feeling a sense of calmness. With all the ups and downs he had gone through since his brother's abdication, he rested in knowing that he, his family, and country were at last entering into a season of peace.

He intended to keep it that way.

The gurgles and coos from Eleanor drew his attention. She waved the teething ring a few times before putting it back in her mouth.

He chuckled at her antics.

He was enjoying these few days of one-on-one time with his daughter. Riley had been asked to be the guest of honor at Lancelin St Clair's fashion grand opening. The renowned designer had created a place where his creations could be not only sold, but created specifically for the customer.

Lancelin had completely renovated a four-story building in Paris's Faubourg Saint-Honoré district, turning each floor into one with a definite purpose. The first floor was a shop that housed various sizes of his most popular creations. The second floor was part runway/part design on demand for the shopper looking for something completely original. The third floor would debut his new bridal line. And the fourth was set as his personal work area/apartment for when he needed to stay late and work on his designs.

All this was to be shown to the public to set off Paris's fashion week.

Since Riley had walked his runway during Liam and Madeleine's engagement tour, he had invited her to be part of his grand opening. Ana De Luca was traveling with Cordonia's queen to do an exclusive spread of Riley in some of the dresses Lancelin had made specifically with her in mind.

It was just the sort of news the people of Cordonia would enjoy after months of uncertainty.

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

"I really don't want to go without you and Eleanor." Riley told Liam the night before she left.

"I don't want you to either." He held her close. "But I have to meet with the Farmers' Association about the progress of the apple orchards." He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I've already had to reschedule twice with them. They need to see I take their concerns seriously."

"I know." She sighed. "And I know that Eleanor would distract everyone from Lancelin's moment." She eased out of his embrace. "This will be the first time I go out without you or any of our friends."

Liam took her hands and tried to ease her worries. "You will do great." He smiled at her. "You charm everyone you meet. I believe I am proof to your effect."

Riley shook her head before kissing him. "If anyone is the charmer, it's you."

He chuckled while tugging her toward their bed. "Do you want me to find someone to go with you? Penelope or Kiara perhaps?"

"No thanks." She snuggled closer to him. "I wish Hana was well enough to go. She was looking forward to it."

Liam gently rubbed her back. "With Maxwell in Hollywood and Drake in Texas, we don't have anyone left."

"I wish Olivia was back." She muttered.

"Amalas needed her expertise." Liam reminded her.

"I know." Riley sighed again. "If I can't have you with me, I do tend to depend on the others to be there. I need to learn how to stand on my own."

"The world will once again be amazed by Cordonia's queen." He kissed the top of her head. "You'll see."

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

Liam glanced at his desk clock. It was nearly time for Ana's live report of Lancelin's grand opening.

His princess had fallen asleep in her swing, drawing another smile from him as he carefully lifted her out. Cuddling her close, he sat down on one of the sofas and turned the television on.

Finding the right channel, he relaxed as the first images appeared.

Cordonia's Queen Riley has been given the honor of walking the red carpet first. Lancelin St Clair awaits, giving her the shears to cut the ceremonial ribbon.

He readjusted Eleanor in his arms as he watched his wife's bright smile flash towards the cheering crowd.

Ana continued to detail what they would soon see when shots rang out.

Liam stood up, causing Eleanor to whimper at being rudely awakened.

Ignoring her fitful cries, he watched as the camera caught his wife and Lancelin falling to the ground.

Then the feed went dead.

"BASTIEN!" Liam shouted over Eleanor's wails.

The head of the King's Guards hurried inside while talking on his phone. Regina rushed in behind him.

"Give me the baby." She insisted, gently taking the fussy little one in her arms. She left the study, allowing Liam to be able to focus on what Bastien was saying.

"And the shooter?" He asked. "I see. Where is her majesty being taken?"

Bastien wrote down the information. "Keep me updated."

Once he ended the call, he faced Liam.

"What happened?" He demanded.

Bastien cleared his throat. "A lone gunman shot both Riley and Mr. St Clair."

"Is she alright? Have the plane prepared. We must get there as quickly as we can!"

"Sir," Bastien hesitated. "I must insist you remain here. The gunman was killed by one of our guards. We don't know if there is another and--"

Liam shoved past him and called the airfield. Declaring it an emergency, he then rushed to tell Regina.

"Liam." She teared up as she took his hand. "Be careful and call as soon as you know more."

"Your majesty, I insist you remain here while I go to Paris." Bastien followed after him. "Once my team has investigated, I can then guarantee your safety--"

"Do you honestly think I give a damn about my safety?!" Liam rounded on him. "My wife was just shot! She is alone in another country and hurt. If you think I will sit here behind these so called protective walls, then you do not know me at all." He went back to his study and quickly packed his briefcase. "Now get me to the airport."

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

Early evening, Paris...

"Her majesty is at one of the private hospitals." Bastien explained as the car continued through the city. "Interpol is working with us to identify the shooter."

Liam stared blindly out the window. "Is my wife conscious?"

"She was." Bastien tried to explain. "She lost some blood from her wound and--"

Their car stopped at the front entrance.

"Liam!" Bastien shouted as the king didn't bother to wait on guards or to check that it was safe.

The young king ran inside, pausing long enough to ask where he should go.

"Je suis le roi de Cordonia. Ma femme a été amenée avec une blessure par balle. Où est-elle? Est-ce qu'elle va bien?" He said quickly.

"Elle se repose dans la chambre 138, Votre Majesté. Dr Miller a dit--" the receptionist blinked when he took off running once more.

Liam slid on the freshly waxed tile floors, barely catching himself as he followed the signs.

A doctor and nurse were just leaving Riley's room when he arrived.

"My wife," Liam gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Is she alright?"

"Oui. She was struck in the shoulder." He paused as both King's Guards and Interpol Agents joined them. "We removed the bullet while she was unconscious."

Liam reached for the door handle as the others began to question the physician.

He paused at seeing his wife laying there, looking so fragile.

One of the first things he had first noticed about her was her inner strength to face any obstacle she encountered. He realized he had taken that he had taken that for granted. The only other time he had seen her like this was when she collapsed during Eleanor's birth.

Liam knew there were only a few things he feared in this world. But those few things centered on something specific: his family.

He could face an entire firing squad and not bat an eye. But let it be Riley or Eleanor that was to be threatened, and he could not take it.

He collapsed in the chair by her bed and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Bowing his head, he waited by her side until she awakened.

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

A few hours later...

Liam stood up when Riley became restless. Soft cries escaped her lips as she slept. He reached for the buzzer.

Explaining that his wife was in pain, he waited for a nurse to come in.

Bastien entered first.

"Have you learned anything about the shooter?" Liam asked in a low voice.

"We have." Bastien stopped the nurse.

He and an Interpol agent patted him down and checked the IV bag of morphine he held.

They stepped back and allowed him to tend to Riley.

Liam watched him replace the bag that had been on a slow drip.

"Can she have more?" He asked as she cried out again.

"Yes sir." He showed Liam the button he could push if she needed more, reassuring him that it wouldn't administer any past the dosage she could have. He increased the flow and left.

Riley's eyes barely opened. "Liam?"

He went back to her bedside. "I'm here, my love."

"My shoulder." She sucked in a painful breath. "What happened?"

"A man was in the crowd." Liam gently explained, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "He shot at you and Lancelin and--"

Her eyes widened. "Lancelin! Liam, he was bleeding so much!"

Bastien cleared his throat as he stepped forward. "He is in intensive care at another hospital, mam."

He pointed at the right side of his chest and mouthed lung to Liam.

Liam frowned some before turning back to Riley.

"Where's Eleanor?" Riley asked, turning her head. "Did you bring her?"

"No. Regina is watching over her at home." Liam eased down on the bed. "Do you need anything? Is there something I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"No." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. "Liam, if...if I had died...you...my baby..." She began to cry.

Unable to take her in his arms, Liam did his best to comfort her. He wiped her tears while speaking in a calming tone that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. That she was safe. That they would soon be home with Eleanor.

Riley tried to calm down but she shook her head. "We'll never be truly safe, will we?"

Liam paused in his assurances. He felt exhausted from the trials they continued to face. Should he now fear peace, knowing it would end horribly in some new threat?

Running a hand through his hair he spoke of what he did know. "No one is ever truly safe, my love. Even if we were locked away somewhere, accidents can happen. Sickness can strike. Bad things happen just as good ones do."

She sniffed and closed her eyes. "I know you're right," she opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "I just wish we didn't keep having trouble."

"I do too." He cupped her cheek and softly kissed her. "All I need to know to make it through our trials is that you and Eleanor are taken care of." He struggled with swallowing. "I should have been there today to protect you."

She weakly raised her hand and caressed his cheek. "Then you might have been hurt or..." She couldn't finish that sentence. "I can't lose you, Liam."

He nodded, kissing her again. "I refuse to lose you." His words came out in a harsh whisper. "I will find who did this and will make certain they never do so again."

Riley rubbed her cheek against his hand and closed her eyes.

Liam relaxed once he saw her drift into a peaceful slumber.

"Sir?" Bastien motioned for him to step outside.

"What did you find?" Liam asked.

"The man was a hired gun from America." Bastien began. "But he was born in Auvernal."

Liam's eyes narrowed. "And who hired him?"

"King Bradshaw."

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

Cordonia, a week later...

Riley was rocking back and forth with Eleanor sleeping in the crook of her good arm. She heard voices outside the nursery door. Curious, but unable to hold her daughter properly, she remained where she was.

A few moments later, Liam slipped quietly inside and smiled at her.

"Is she down for the night?"

"She fell asleep long ago, but I wasn’t ready to let her go." Riley let him put Eleanor in her crib. "I missed her so much. I'm so thankful to be home with you both."

"Nowhere near as much as I am." Liam wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I heard voices earlier. Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Everything is fine."

Riley chewed on her bottom lip. "You never told me what was found about the gunman."

"There wasn't much to discover." He told her.

"Was he just some crazy person or was he hired by someone?" Riley prodded.

Liam let her go and motioned for them to leave the nursery when Eleanor made a disgruntled, sleepy noise.

"I don't want you thinking anymore about this." Liam insisted. "We are taking care of eliminating the threat."

"Eliminating?" Riley's brow furrowed. "But that means he was hired--"

"I want you to rest."

His nearly cold evasiveness alarmed her.

"Liam," she reached for his hand. "Please talk to me. I can handle whatever you have found."

Remembering how upset she was in the hospital, he averted his eyes. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Her lips parted to insist. She shut them when he escorted her to their chambers.

"Do you need anything?" He asked after helping her change.

"No." She murmured.

He covered her up and began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" She sat up in surprise.

"I have somethings that require my attention in the study." He explained. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

She quietly watched him leave, feeling even more uneasy than before.

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

A little after three in the morning...

Riley awoke when she felt the bed dip down.

"Liam?"

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you."

She checked the time. "Are you just now coming to bed?"

"Yes. It took longer than I planned." He stretched out beside her.

"What did?" She demanded, turning a lamp on.

She gasped when she noticed his bruised face and bloody knuckles.

"What happened? How did you--"

"It's nothing." He winced as he tried to get comfortable. "I'll be fine."

"Liam!" She snapped. "Talk to me." Her eyes narrowed. "Now."

"I took care of the one who tried to take you from me." He snapped back.

"So there was someone else involved?"

"Yes. And he will never have a chance to hurt anyone again." Liam declared.

Riley gently touched his face. "Liam, you didn't..."

"I wanted to." He admitted. "I was so close to beating Bradshaw to death." He closed his eyes at that memory.

It would have been so easy. A few more strikes, a quick twist and the king that had caused Liam’s world to nearly crumble would have had his last breath.

"I allowed Interpol to take him." He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "Olivia found all the evidence we needed to make certain the only way he will ever leave prison is to attend his own funeral."

Riley blinked back tears.

She then punched Liam in the arm.

"Riley!" He sat up when he noticed her shaking with rage. "What--"

"How could you?!" She screamed. "How could you risk your life when you already had everything in place to arrest him?!"

"He tried to kill you!" Liam yelled back. "All because we caused him embarrassment." His eyes narrowed. "Did you think I would do nothing to the man who set out to take my wife from me? Take my daughter's mother?!"

"He wasn't worth you taking a chance on him having a weapon or one of his guards kill you! What would Eleanor and I do without you here?" Tears fell, nearly blinding her. "How could you risk our family?"

All of Liam's anger disappeared at hearing that she had his own fear. Gently pulling her close he silently held her as she cried. His own tears mingled with hers as he thought of a life without her.

The sun was beginning to rise as their tears came to an end. They still held to one another, speaking in low tones of their life together. An occasional hitch in one's words caused the other to try and comfort the one temporarily unable to speak.

As light crept through the drapes, the two remained upright, still clinging to the one they loved.

Riley lifted her head off his shoulder. "Eleanor will be awake soon."

"Yes, she will." Liam pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "You should rest. I'll take care of her."

"I'll help you." She hugged him close with her good arm. "I don't want to be apart from either of you today."

His arms tightened around her. Unable to say all that filled his heart, he simply nodded while muttering that he didn't either.

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips and smiled. "It's a new day, my love. A new day just for us."

#choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #liam x riley #king liam #liam x mc #trr liam #trr riley #trh liam #choices stories you play

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Shackles 11: Resolve

[part 10]

“Anymore?” That’s all Ilia could think to say in the windswept desert, surrounded by wounded escapees and the guards she struck down. Ilia looked to her left to see Yang tend to Adam’s wounds as best as possible with the supplies they had. “Should we expect anymore to come out? There’s…less than I expected.”

“Other than Blake and Jacquelyn, I couldn’t say. Right now I’m worried about whether any one of us can make a trip to Vacou in this condition.”

“I handled that already. Right now I’m more concerned about-” a tremor cut her off. The entrance of the mine shaft began crumbling as Blake and Jacquelyn ran out. The maiden raised her foot and stomped the ground again, causing another tremble that closed the entrance with rubble.

Jacquelyn looked at her handy work briefly while she brought her hands together to pray. “It’s not a proper burial, but it’s the best I could offer. Forgive me.” She gave a moment of silence before running off to Adam. Beside him was a girl she didn’t recognize and Yang. “How is he!?”

“Breathing, but that’s about all I can say. I did stop some bleeding. In this situation though…”

“I got it…” Jacquelyn uttered. She sat by his side quietly and took his hand. It was faint but she could feel him gently squeeze back. “Hang on a little longer okay?” Her eyes watered. Unsure of what to do or feel, Jasmine remained speechless.

Yang stood up and gave them space. Truthfully she didn’t think she could watch Jacquelyn cry. Something about it…hit a little close to home. Despite her personal feelings, Yang hoped for the best. Her eyes spotted Blake standing apart from everyone else. Yang approached without hesitation but was shocked whenever she tried reaching out and Blake moved away; not even looking her way.

“Blake? Hey, what’s wrong?” She waited patiently but didn’t get a response. “Blake, you're scaring me a little. What happened?”

“I…I just…” Blake dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. She could that pit in her stomach start churning as she did her best to keep calm. She could still feel it. The pounding in her chest and the adrenaline that made her shake violently. Next thing she knew Yang had was holding her while Blake struggled to breathe.

“Blake!? Blake what’s wrong!? Ilia! Something is wrong!”

“What!?” She came rushing over and saw Blake on the ground, her pupils extremely cat-like. “She’s hyperventilating! Blake you gotta calm down! Look at me. Deep breaths.”

Try as she might, Blake couldn’t. Her senses felt heightened beyond anything she’s ever felt. The cries of friends became muffled and their tearful expressions blurred. Blake once again found herself fading into darkness.

xxxx

Blake couldn’t understand what was happening to her or how long it lasted. As quickly as the darkness came, there was light again. However, it wasn’t sun light; and she wasn’t on the sand. Blake was staring up at the ceiling. A quick head tilt told her all she needed. Blake in a hospital, Menagerie’s hospital. Wait…

Blake sprung up. “How’d I get here!?” She looked at her to see an IV drip connected. She was about to take it out when the door opened. Blake gasped to see her father walk in. He was just as surprised to see her awake.

“Blake!” He ran over and gave her a hug. “Thank goodness you’re okay!”

“Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Me? I should be the one asking you that. At least…that’s what I would say if Sun hadn’t filled in your mother and I when we returned.” Ghira finally stopped hugging but grabbed his daughter’s shoulders. “Blake, how could you not tell us something so important?”

Blake’s eyes softened with guilt. “It’s not as if I didn’t trust you. It was just…a lot to process. I’m still processing. Ugh, my shoulders.”

Ghira let go. “Sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“No, it’s not you. My entire body feels like lead. What happened to me? How am I back here?”

Her father sat by her side and stroked his beard. “Well for starters the doctors say you had a severe panic attack. As for how you’re here, you arrived by airship flown by Ilia; along with several other ships with more of Sun’s friends.

So that was it. Sun or Ilia must’ve told the rest of team SSSN ahead of time to be ready with evacuation. It was pretty ridiculous that asking for their help didn’t even cross her mind.

“You’re not all they brought. There were few others. The ones that didn’t need immediate help or couldn’t manage in Vacou. Unfortunately… some didn’t survive.”

The pit in her stomach came back again. “I see. Guess it would’ve been wishful thinking to assume otherwise.” Blake gripped her knees and shut her eyes. No need to beat around the bush. “Where’s Adam?”

“He’s in intensive care, underwatch.”

“Take me to him.”

“Blake you need to-”

“I’ll search every room, so just tell me.” Blake removed the IV drip and proceeded to leave. Ghira didn’t think twice following behind her. He didn’t even know why she asked for help. Blake was heading in the obvious direction. Where the noise was loudest.

Way down the hall near the back of the hospital had many empty rooms. Menagerie typically never reached close to max capacity, so the fact several rooms had wound in it at all was a shock. The furthest room was surrounded by guards . The only thing in their way being Yang.

One guard in particular, a man with a faded scar on his right eye, confronted the blonde. “For the hundredth time, step aside.”

“You know I would’ve thought the third time I said no would be enough to get the point across. Ninety seven more times feels obsessive.”

“Ma’am if you continue this behavior then-”

Blake called the guard’s “Saber!” They all turned to the approaching leader and former leader. “What’s this about?”

“Blake! You scared me half to death!”

“Madam, your friend refuses to let us in and restrain the terrorist.”

“Restrain? He couldn’t even see last time I saw him. I’m shocked he made it on life support.”

“Be that as it may, he’s far too dangerous to be left unrestrained. Once he no longer needs treatment he will be locked up and tried-”

“He’s not going to jail.” Blake said calmly. No surprise that everyone looked at her like she said something crazy. By all means it was. “The world thinks he’s dead. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Keep it that way? He’s wanted everywhere; terrorized everywhere! We can’t simply keep that under wraps Mrs. Belladonna.”

“Said who?” Blake challenged, standing up straight. “The world already has its story and as far as I’m concerned, it’s pound of flesh as well. That hell we found him in was worse than anything a judge could pass onto him. Besides, people would get unrest learning he’s alive after everything that happened.”

“That doesn’t change anything! His name causes panic and discourse regardless if people think he’s dead. All the lives he’s uprooted, the divide. A beating-”

“Saber.” Blake’s voice cut through the air like her blade, demanding attention. “Do not try to preach to me about the people he’s hurt. I’m well aware.”

“That’s…I didn’t…” Saber bit his tongue. Yang put her hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Take it from me, you’re not going to persuade her.”

Blake walked to the door and faced all the guards. Their mixed emotions plain to see and obvious frustration. “All of you have protected the people and my family more times than I can count. You’re always dependable. I trust you. However, I can’t just ask you to keep this a secret; I’m ordering you to, as High Leader. Wash your hands of it completely.

Saber and others were stunned. “You can’t…Ghira, you’re just going to let her do that!? That’s a blatant abuse of power!”

“Calm down Saber. It’s true that I would never use status like this and I would advise my daughter to tread lightly with that title, but I have no more power than you here. Let’s all just…discuss the details later. For now I don’t see the point in alarming everyone about our…our patient.”

“Your patient, not mine or the guards.” Saber and the guards began to take their leave. “But we will not say a word, per the High Leader’s orders. However, I expect that man to be in one of our cells discreetly. Once he heals of course. Discussing his fate means nothing right now.”

Blake kept any remarks she had about that condition, choosing to bow instead. “I appreciate your cooperation.” She rose, not expecting a reply. “Yang, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I was only around in the first place because I wanted a check up.” Yang rubbed her stomach. “Looks like stubbornness runs in the family. Doctor says the little spitfire is perfectly fine. Embers are burning strong.”

“I’m glad to hear, honestly. Heh…Ember, that’s a good name.”

Yang chuckled. “Meh, too on the nose. But…I’ll give it thought. Sun was here earlier by the way. He took Jacquelyn to your home with Ilia. Those two weren’t exactly happy with the guards. Not to guilt trip you but Sun has been doing a lot without question. Love or not, you owe him.”

“She most certainly does.” Ghira piped up. “Your mother didn’t take the news well.”

Blake winced. Yang patted her back to offer any comfort. She never saw Kali angry before but if she was anything like Blake was on that mineshaft, then Sun was a real trooper. “Listen Blake, try to slow down for a while. For everyone’s sake.”

“I…sigh, yeah.”

“Good. Hate to tell you but I think I’m at the end of my rope. I’m spent.”

Blake frowned. It made sense, but it still hurt to hear. “I take it you’re leaving then? Sorry this trip wasn’t anything it was meant to be.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Yang smiled, pulling Blake into a hug. “I made up with my ex. Be safe, okay?”

“…Sure thing.” Blake’s arms tightened the hug. Funny, was Yang always this warm? Blake couldn’t remember. Maybe it’s just been far too long since they felt comfortable with each other. “Let me know Jaune’s reaction.”

“Oh I’m recording it.” Yang let go and walked away. However, she felt the need to look back at Adam’s door. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think we rescued the person we fought at Argus, but that doesn’t mean I think you’re right. Still, I hope you prove me wrong.” Yang waved goodbye and left. Hope wasn’t something she had for the situation. Nevertheless, if Blake called, Yang would answer. And who knows? Crazier things have happened. It made her wonder…

“Hmmm, I should talk to mom again.”

Blake couldn’t explain why Yang’s words calmed her nerves but it did. She gave her loving father a glance. “I should‘ve told you and mom from the start. I’m sorry.”

“Sigh, I’m not upset. Not anymore; I feared this secret was quietly terrifying you; that him being out there would give you unrest. I never expected you to come to his defense.”

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

“Sweetheart, of course not. There’s not a day that I have thought that. However, recklessness and naïveté, no one is immune to those.”

“Dad, you’ve taught there’s strength in forgiveness; that it is infinitely harder to believe a person can change after they crossed so many lines. I…I can’t go around preaching that to others around the world if I don’t at least try once, really try. So…” Ghira placed his hand on her. His calm expression and gentle eyes locked with her as he nodded ever so slightly. Blake grabbed his hand and nodded back. “Watch the door.”

“Oh you were never going to stop me from doing that.” He smiled.

Blake let go, finally going inside. The shades were tilted to let in a bit of light; the windows tightly locked. There he was, the center of all of this, laying in a hospital bed. Adam’s face wasn’t swollen anymore. Now it was only covered in red and purple bruises. Monitors beeped steadily and he was hooked up like she was, but with the addition of a nasal cannula. Blake took a seat to unwind.

“I know you’re awake.” She watched Adam’s head turn to her and smirk. The man opened his tired eyes. Right of the back, Blake understood what Yang meant. “Hey…”

“Hey. You look a little rough there Blake.”

“Like you’re in a position to say that?”

“Heh, I always look rough. Now I just feel it too. Gotta admit, I’m shocked I cheated death again. How’s Jackie?”

“Seething or crying most likely, but safe.”

Adam let out a sigh of relief, sinking into his bed. “Good. I thought I heard her earlier but I wasn’t sure.” He noticed how tense Blake looked. Her ears were alert and posture rigid. “I take it you want answers?”

“No shit! What the hell happened? The last time I saw you was when both of you took off in an airship. Had I known you two were planning to hide in Menagerie’s desert…”

“Her idea, not mine. Though I gotta admit that it was pretty solid for the most part. Up until now anyways.”

“That’s what I don’t get. Out the blue, people with an axe to grind come knocking on your door and-”

“They weren’t here for me.” Adam interjected, sitting up slowly. “Blake, Menagerie is ground zero for White Fang. They came looking for anyone they wrote off as a beast who needed correcting. Plans changed though once they found me.”

Blake’s eyes widened. That thought never crossed her mind but it made sense. Plenty of old White Fang members chose to stay here. If they saw Ilia as a beast then of course they would look here. It was only by coincidence that she was in Vacou helping.

“You’d be surprised how many people actually try sneaking onto the island from the desert. Most don’t last while others are more persistent. One day Jackie went off to town and that’s when they showed up. That had to have planned it because the timing was too perfect and the numbers were too heavy for infiltration. The house was surrounded and I was in bed.”

“They caught you off guard, of all people ?”

“Things have been quiet for years. I don’t go into town so yeah, I wasn’t expecting karama to open the door like it opened the place.”

“We were inside the house. There wasn’t a sign of a struggle whatsoever.”

“Because I went quietly.”

“Why!?” Blake stood up forcefully. “It makes no sense! You’d sooner die than let anyone capture you. I don’t care how many years it’s been.”

“…heh, you’re not wrong. Truthfully, I was ready to slaughter as many as possible. But…the house would’ve been obliterated; and Jackie would’ve come back to a literal dead beat. Did she tell you that she’s pregnant?”

“You knew!?” Blake gasped, “She said she didn’t tell you yet.”

“The house is only so big. Jackie is bad at hiding her feelings and items, like a pregnancy test. Even without it, things were obvious. I’m with her constantly.”

Blake took her seat again. Now things were fitting together. “You left to protect her.”

“More or less. I don’t know, that’s giving me too much credit. I did leave for her safety but also to keep myself alive a bit longer. I never doubted that she would look for me. Involving you though… I guess her pregnancy was more of a hurdle than I thought. Jackie never wants help.”

“She was a mess when I found her in my house.”

“Like I said, she doesn’t hide emotions well. So, I doubt I have to tell you anything else. You saw where I ended up. Is Sobek dead?”

Blake clicked her tongue and narrowed her eyes. “I can’t say. The mineshaft was sealed but that’s all I know, and we both know that no body doesn’t mean death. ”

“Hehehe.”

“How could you laugh at that!? It’s not funny. I’m so sick and tired of….ugh, I don’t even know what’s pissing me off anymore!” Blake put her head in her hands.”

“…Things would’ve been easier if I died that day, huh?”

“YES! I mean…no, I…what are you doing!? What’s the angle!? Why is everything connected to you just a spit in the face to me!?” Blake got up again, tears running like a river. “All things you’ve done to me, the bonds you tested, I should feel nothing but anger for what you’ve done to me; yet the day I learned you were still alive was a weight off my chest. I wanna tell myself I don’t care but even now I’m happy to see you actually speak to me in earnest. You didn’t believe in my dream, my beliefs, and this entire mess not only proved I’ve actually done nothing so far, but also that I’m clueless to what’s happening in my own home! Despite all that…I ran to you. Adam I killed for you. Sobek was made because of you and yet I felt anger deep inside I never had before. I was borderline feral! Yet here I am, upset at myself because I’m buying into every little prayer that I have about believing you are changing as a person and aren’t playing the two people in this world that actually want you alive!” Her lungs burned immensely.

Adam watched her eyes constrict and her body shook violently, yet just as Blake said, her eyes didn’t hold the rage he once had. They could never hold it. Adam bit down on his lip, straining his body to get out of bed. The stitches on him bled while his legs barely kept him up. Forgiveness was unthinkable to ask for. There wasn’t much he could say that wouldn’t sound wrong or halfhearted. Still, saying nothing now was not an option.

“Blake…” he leaned forward, falling actually; gently onto Blake who caught him. “Thank you for having hope. As for that anger, it’s proof you’re different from me, Jacquelyn, Sobek, and anyone like us. Righteous fury, to truly be angry for someone else’s circumstance, it’s why people follow you; why they will continue to follow you. Why…I’ll follow you.”

Blake hadn’t realized it until now, but she was still trying to keep calm; to let the turmoil inside her subside, but now…she couldn’t. Not after that. Her legs gave, falling to the floor with Adam. The tears she thought were running free rushed out twice as hard as Blake audibly began to cry her heart out, gripping Adam’s clothes.

“Please…I’m begging you…” She sobbed heavily. “Let this be real.”

He finally put his arms around her, unsure of all his actions. “I swear.”

Words weren’t enough, but a foundation needed to start somewhere. Against many opinions, Blake chose to believe in his words. It was far too late to turn back now. The tidal wave of emotions that festered inside had finally run its course. Blake couldn’t say she felt better right now, but she didn’t feel worse. A small victory, but one nonetheless. All the tension Blake had made her fail to notice the rummaging outside the door. Suddenly it swung open, startling Blake to her feet. In just a single blink, a blur of black and white dashed behind Adam. It was the girl that was near him in the desert.

Ghira rushed in. “Sorry! I tried stopping her, but she barreled her way through.” He looked at the hospital gowned girl who growled and quivered behind Adam. “Do you…know this girl?”

“I guess you can say that. She was in the mines too.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that little one. If that’s the case then having you run around might be dangerous if you aren’t healthy.” Ghira took a step and the tiger faunus ducked behind Adam in fear, shaking. He took a couple steps back. “Poor child. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now. Does she…have a family?”

Adam was about to speak but small hands gripped his shirt. Jasmine made no effort to speak. She simply stood there, her eyes vacant and almost dead. She would’ve been nonexistent if not for the fact they were all looking right at her.

“Can she speak?” Ghira asked.

“She can, or at least could.” Adam reached for her. The child’s eyes softened slightly, her ears falling down when his hand rested on her head. Jasmine’s eyes shut tight and she began whimpering. Tears trickled down dark sunburned cheeks.”

“I can’t imagine what happened in that place, but it appears someone got attached.”

“She snuck past guards to speak to me several times. As well as stopped them all from branding me with another scar. Both her parents and her brother…didn’t make it.”

Blake could only ache for the child. To have lost so much so early on. It was clear to see why Adam would be drawn to her. “What’s her name?”

“It’s-”

“Sienna.” Jasmine said, breaking her silence and shocking everyone. “My name, it’s Sienna.” Her voice was meek and a bit dry. The lie came naturally, almost like instinct. However, it didn’t feel like a lie. Not to her, or to Adam. An unspoken acknowledgment happened when their eyes met, a sad truth and new reality. Back in the mineshaft in that cruel cell, there may have only been one body, but two people died there. A brother and sister that loved each other to the end. The girl he rescued was not the one who got imprisoned; nor would it ever be.

“That’s right.” Adam uttered, lamenting the deaths brought by his own past arrogance. “Her name is Sienna.”

#rwby #rwby shackles #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #adam taurus #ghira belladonna #sienna frost #jacquelyn frost #rwby au

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fragmentedink-archived · 3 years

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Hell to Pay: Part Fifty-Four

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

The body of the demon Cameron dumped on Cyrus’ floor made a solid thunk. Cyrus winced, but leaned forward out of instinct. Only one of the demon’s eyes was able to open, but the glittering purple was enough to reassure Cyrus that he was indeed still alive. Cyrus chose to look up at Cameron instead, mouth thinning despite his best efforts.

“Is this the sacrifice?” Cyrus asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Do I need to be the one to kill him for this to work?”

Stifling a sigh, Cyrus shook his head. “No,” he promised, reaching for the candles strategically set out. They sprang to life, but even that didn’t ease the amount of magic he had roiling under his skin. He’d been hoarding it for weeks, and supplementing with what he could only really equate to magic energy drinks. It felt like he was seconds away from splitting at the seams and deflating without the magic to hold him up. “But I think I need some of your blood. Just to tie it to him and make sure the spell takes hold in him, not you.”

Cameron took a thin switchblade from his pocket and sliced precisely across his palm. Black blood welled instantly, suggesting he cut deep. “Figured as much. Take what you need.”

“Do you have the ashes?” Cyrus asked, knowing and not caring there was an edge to his voice as he snatched up a cup to catch the blood. It took only a little magic to close the cut on Cameron’s hand with a golden flash. “I think after that we’re ready as we’ll ever be.”

While Cameron left to retrieve the urn, Cyrus went to work, muttering the spells he needed. Where the blood was smeared on the demon, it soaked in and disappeared. As Cameron returned, Cyrus could see the brown hair of the prone figure before him slowly start to morph closer to white.

“With your blood, I was able to shift him into... you,” Cyrus explained as he took the ashes. Cameron hadn’t looked perturbed, but Cyrus felt the need to explain anyway. “Even though... I’m sorry, what is his name?”

“That’s not important.”

Cyrus waitied, folding his hands over the urn patiently. “I want his name.”

“For...?”

“Consider it payment for casting the spell. I never specified my price, but I want to know the name of the demon I’m killing for you. I have to live with his death, whatever he has done.”

Cameron raised a brow, staring him down. Eventually he said, “Sage.”

Cyrus nodded. By this point the demon had fully morphed into an exact likeness of Cameron. Albeit, a very battered looking Cameron. “Even though Sage will be dying in your place, it’s still a body that is... you. It’s cheating in spirit, but Asmi has promised to fill in the gaps to make sure the spell succeeds.”

Cameron gave a thin smile. “I’m sure they’ll be glad to fill the gaps. Angels always are happy to do so.”

“They’re a god, not an angel,” Cyrus muttered, before calling out for Darius, giving a tug with his magic to let the ghost know they were ready.

Darius materialized not a moment later, looking unruffled and determined. “Hello, Cyrus.”

“Are you ready?” Cyrus asked. “We are if this is still what you want to do.”

“It is,” Darius said. He was quiet for a heartbeat. “Will it hurt?”

“It didn’t hurt Levant,” Cyrus said. “This should be the same.” He offered a smile. “Just try not to linger on the other side for three days, and you should be just fine.”

“I will do my best,” Darius said, offering his own smile. He looked at the urn in Cyrus’ hands. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt pain. Or much of anything else.” He looked back up to Cyrus’ eyes. “Thank you, Cyrus.”

Cyrus only smiled a little, and went to work. It was still a complex spell, and he wove his magic into each word, until his voice was hoarse and his hands shook. Sage’s body slowly disintegrated before them. Without a physical magic to help even out his, the sparks of raw magic fell from his fingertips visibly. Bit by bit, they replaced where Sage had been until a very real Darius lay on the floor instead.

Darius’ golden eyes flickering open was the last thing Cyrus saw before his own rolled back and he toppled to the side.

---

Cameron watched from his spot as Cyrus crumpled into the floor. He was well aware the witch’s heart was still beating, even if his nose was bleeding steadily. He stepped over Cyrus’ body and knelt next to Darius.

Even if Darius’ brown skin was currently leeched of its warmth, he was still him, still physical and now breathing. And now staring up at him unblinkingly. Even though Cameron was pulling his suit jacket off to cover Darius’ naked frame. “I have clothes for you in the car,” he said. “I didn’t have anything from before, so I had some made.”

Darius opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, frowning. Instead he took Cameron’s hand into his icy ones. Cameron’s entire body flinched when Darius kissed the top of his hand, almost in a thank you.

“Well,” Cameron said, tersely. “It was the least I could do. I’ll get the witch’s mate.” He slipped his hand from Darius’ and pulled out his phone to send a text, telling the demon to come collect Cyrus and put him to bed. He looked down at Darius, despite the blood pounding in his head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Not that he could.

And it certainly seemed like an amusing thing for Cameron to say by the look on Darius’ face.

He ignored it and disappeared back to his car for the clothes he promised. By the time he got himself back inside, Darius had moved himself into a sitting position, or was trying. “I thought I told you to not move,” Cameron said, flatly, already moving to help sit him up.

Darius patted Cameron’s arm, as if he were trying to humor Cameron. Cameron ignored the suggestion that this was humorous in any way and carefully moved in front of Darius to begin putting clothes on him. “Are you cold?

When Darius shrugged, Cameron sighed irritably. “I see five hundred years in limbo hasn’t taught you how to give yes or no answers.”

Cameron moved to pick Darius up and set him on the couch. He grabbed the few throw blankets available and wrapped Darius up tight, remembering how Lev complained about being cold.

Sorin eventually popped into the house, looking flustered and anxious. Cameron and Darius both watched mildly as he fussed over Cyrus’ limp body.

It was that inopportune time that his phone decided to start buzzing. He had let it go to voicemail twice before answering Ash the third time.

“What the fuck did you do?” Ash said, sounding like he was in tremendous pain.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Cameron said, indifferently, watching Darius.

Darius frowned, but Cameron just looked away as Ash laid into him, giving a few rather choice words about whatever it is Ash ranted and raved about. “I can’t see and I can’t access any of my magic, Cameron. So I ask, what the fuck did you do?”

He wasn’t sure that he had been expecting exactly that, but considering Asmi, and how they are the god to the angels, this was something on brand for the angels. “I gave Lev what he wanted.”

“You gave Lev-” the phone thudded and Cameron could hear Ash yelling at Lev from wherever he was.

Cameron waited a few moments to see if the idiot would pick his phone back up but when he didn’t he decidedly hung up and turned his focus back to the scene in front of him.

Sorin had Cyrus’ head in his lap and was trying to clean the blood. “Cyrus wasn’t sure if you were staying or not,” he said, distractedly. “So he had the guest room set up.”

Cameron looked to Darius, who was already staring at him expectantly. He frowned. “I should… probably let you stay here for a day or two. I need to talk to Nik.”

Darius nodded.

Cameron had completely spaced it off. He’d kick himself later for it, but he had to get Nik’s overreaction out of the way before he brought back someone who was just dead for five hundred years. Last thing he needed was Darius to get sick or for Nik to burst a blood vessel yelling at him because he brought someone home he didn’t expect.

Cameron got up from the couch and swatted Sorin’s hands away before hauling Cyrus over his shoulder and began carrying him back towards their bedroom. “And they called you a soldier.”

Sorin rightfully didn’t say anything and went back to Cyrus’ side when Cameron carefully placed him on the bed. He propped pillows to help with blood flow and left Sorin there to fuss while he tended to Darius.

---

Nik and Lev had spent the last hour or so putting the gifts from the babyshower away.. There were so many and if it hadn’t been for his belly, it was the gifts and the nursery itself that made it feel real. That he was in fact having a baby.

That was if the kid managed to survive whatever hell Amara and the witch had unleashed on the demonic lands.

He held onto a soft blue and white baby blanket Nate had brought for the baby. “I’m not really doing the right thing, am I?”

“It doesn’t take a genius, Nik,” Ash said, from the doorway. “But I already told you I’d do my best to help keep the baby healthy.”

Nik side glanced Lev, who looked a little saddened. “It might be best for the baby,” Lev said, quietly. “I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Nik looked back down at the blanket, and ran his fingers across one of the thick blue stripes. “I don't want to leave you and Cameron. I also don’t want to deal with Papi. Last thing I need is him breathing down my neck.”

“Could Bay and Nate keep him away from you?” Lev asked. “Or Ash? I don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re ours.”

“I’m sure both Bay and Nate would be more than glad to keep Az’ril away from Nik so he can incubate in peace,” Ash said.

Nik rolled his eyes. “You exhaust me.”

“Yeah, well, next time I tell you to do something, maybe you should do it,” Ash replied, unfazed.

Lev touched Nik’s shoulder. “It wouldn’t be forever.”

Nik sighed. “I’ll… think about it.”

Lev opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead choked on nothing at all and doubled over.

“Lev?” Nik said, putting a hand on Lev’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?” At nearly the same time, Ash crumpled to the ground, pain twisting his face. “Ash- whats going on?”

His voice was rising as Lev heaved, puking black nothing onto the floor, where it slowly faded away. “Will someone fucking answer me?”

Ash’s breath was shallow, and he wheezed in pain, but not before Celeste appeared in the doorway with Dakota in her arms. “Nik, take him,” she ordered, moving to check on Lev.

Dakota was luckily sleeping in Nik’s arms, but he still watched in horror as Lev seemed to be dispelling his own magic.

“Nik,” Ash rasped, “Grab my phone. Right now.”

Nik hurried to grab the phone from Ash’s room, finding it on a desk, and returned as quickly as he could while not waking the baby. “Here.”

The bright green in Ash’s eyes was fading in and out, and Nik could see bruises peeking out from under his shirt. Nik knew enough that it meant that Ash had used far too much magic and it was now burning him nearly from the inside out.

He swiped it from Nik’s hand. It was nearly half a minute before Ash managed to get someone on the other line. ““What the fuck did you do?” Ash snarled.

Rage whitened Ash’s face. “I can’t see and I can’t access any of my magic, Cameron. So I ask, what the fuck did you do?”

Ash froze, head snapping up. “You gave Lev-”

He dropped his phone and tried getting up to his feet, even when in searing blinding pain. “What was that fucking bargain you made with Asmi?” Ash yelled. “And why the fuck did you rope me into it?”

“Ash-”

Ash’s mouth snapped shut when Celeste whipped her head in his direction. “You shut your mouth right now, Ashwyn. You are not helping.”

“I don’t know,” Lev croaked. “I said I’d help take the punishment if necromancy was practiced again, but I was supposed to be the only one anyway.”

“Well someone clearly didn’t get the memo,” Ash bit out. “And now I can’t access any of my magic, including the magic that I was using to keep Nik’s baby healthy.”

Nik’s head went very quiet and he went to pick the phone up. But unsurprisingly Cameron had ended the call.

He pulled out his own phone.

Nik: where are you

It was a moment before Cameron finally deigned to answer.

Cameron: I’m at the witch’s house. I was going to call you in a minute.

Nik: sure you were. Why the hell are you performing necromancy???

Cameron: It was something that needed done. And Lev had asked for Darius, so that’s what I’m doing.

Anger sizzled through Nik’s blood and he threw his phone across the room. “Great.”

“I’ll talk to Asmi,” Ash said, using the crib to hold himself up. “I have an inkling they're behind this."

---

It was only after Cameron got Darius settled in the guest room did Darius ask him for something to write with; Merely a scribble on his hand.

Cameron nodded slowly and went towards the witch's bedroom and leveled a single knock before opening the door. "Where are your writing utensils?"

Sorin was in his demonic form, watching Cyrus for a moment before climbing down from the bed and leading him back towards the office.

There was a sense of a chaotic, but methodical organization that Cameron could make out. Clearly the witch wasn't able to keep his work space clean. Either that or he didn't consider it important enough.

Sorin jumped on the desk, a few papers falling to the floor, as he picked his way across it. He poked around for several moments before sitting on the edge on the left side, draping his tail over the edge until he could grab it with his fluffy orange-striped tail and pull that open. Inside was a supply of pens and sticky notes of varying sizes.

Without prompting, Cameron reached for a pen and one of the larger pads of sticky notes and headed back to the bedroom. Darius was exactly where Cameron had left him, and was watching him very closely. He put the pen and notes in Darius’ extended hand. “Can you still write?”

Darius rose a brow, but looked down at the pad of paper for a few moments before very carefully writing: You should call home and talk to Nik.

“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me that and I will.”

Darius’ brows furrowed, and he looked down once more only to write: :/

Cameron sighed internally. “Alright,” he said, fishing out his phone once more, even if he detested phones. “Have your way.” He rolled his eyes at the smile he got in return for his troubles and decided to FaceTime Nik and get this over with.

It took nearly five minutes of continuous calling before Nik answered. He looked every bit annoyed and angry as Cameron expected. “Oh well, thank you for gracing me with your presence, Cameron.”

“You’re welcome,” Cameron replied, mildly.

“So were you going to just bring home your dead ex-boyfriend and expect us to welcome him in with open arms, or...?”

“He was never my boyfriend,” Cameron said. “That implies I ever agreed to date him.”

“Oh right,” Nik snapped, “just like you’re not my boyfriend, right?”

Cameron ignored that. “It was not my intention to not tell you,” he said. “It just never crossed my mind.”

“It didn’t cross your mind while you went behind my back?”

“I haven’t thought about Darius in over five hundred years,” Cameron said, “and you have also been rather busy being pregnant and miserable, so no, it never really crossed my mind to tell you upsetting news.”

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever. So is he just going to be living with us, or are you just gonna pick right back off where you left off? Do I need to, you know, pack my bags and go back home now that you have your original model back?”

“I have no intention of making you go anywhere you do not wish to go. If you choose to go back to Liwen, that is solely your choice and yours alone. Everything will remain the same unless you make it so.”

“Yeah right.”

“He will remain with us until he is able to live and move on his own without any assistance. After that, he is free to move about and out just as you are. Nothing changes, Nik. I am mated to you and you alone.”

Nik’s lips thinned. “Fine. When are you going to be home, because I’m hungry. Or are you giving me permission to cook?”

Cameron’s nostrils flared. He did not want Nik cooking in his kitchen. The absolute mess Nik makes no matter how much he tries to not make a mess makes Cameron’s skin crawl. “We will not be back until tomorrow morning,” he said after a moment of internal debate. “So yes, you may cook. Make Lev clean up after you, if you must.”

That at least got a smile from him- though it was sharp and pointed enough Cameron knew well enough that Nik was going to make a mess of his kitchen on purpose.

tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #ch: cameron #ch: nik #ch: darius #ch: ash #hell to pay

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page-doctor-bekker · 3 years

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Casa de las Flores (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) so... there is no nsfw in here. nothing that wouldn't be allowed in a pg-13 film, which is typically my policy: if i can see it in a pg-13 film, i can write it and put it on my tumblr :) anyways, enjoy. this takes place right after this.

Casa de las Flores looked small on the outside, a cute storefront with a few burnt out letters and a neon “OPEN” sign on the door, but the quaint look was merely a facade. On the inside, the dining room was large and lively, with a full-service bar and bright decorations. They were seated almost right away, sandwiched between an elderly couple and a family with a toddler and a baby.

“I’m Rosie, I’m going to be taking care of you two today,” The woman smiled, and set the menus down, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Ava glanced over the drink menu, skipping right down to the margaritas section.

“Yeah, can I get a strawberry margarita, frozen?” Ava requested, and Rosie nodded, scribbling down on her pad.

“And for you?”

“Uh…”

Crap, is she paying? Or am I? I should get something cheap, just play it safe… Wait, she said she was going to buy me dinner. She’s definitely paying. God, I don’t want to cost her too much…

“A uh… Err… Sparkling watermelon margarita on the rocks, hold the salt,” She blurted out, and Ava smiled at her, which was totally not helping the nerves.

“I’ll get those right out,” Rosie flipped her pad closed, and left the table.

“Really? No salt?” Ava queried, giving a slight chuckle.

“I always wipe it off when I get the salt,” Sarah admitted, “It just… I don’t know. It’s supposed to enhance the lime or something, but I’m just not into it. The bitterness just ruins the drink for me.”

“Huh,” Ava flipped the page on the menu, “I never knew that about you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I advertise my margarita preferences everywhere I go.”

Ava laughed, “Really? That’s my favorite activity!” She taunted, looking up at the other woman.

“Maybe I should give it a try,” Sarah remarked.

“What are you going to get?” Ava suddenly changed the subject, still flipping through the pages of the laminated menu, “I was looking at that baja grilled fish tacos but…” She winked, “I’m not sure if fish is the right choice on a first date.”

What the fuck. WHAT the fuck. What the FUCK.

Sarah laughed, although the comment took her off guard, “I was thinking of the enchiladas de espinaca, but I haven’t entirely ruled out the al pastor either.”

“Spinach? You’re bolder than I am,” Ava chuckled.

“I’ll only get it if you promise to let me know if I have some on my teeth.”

“Deal.”

A few quiet minutes later, Rosie was back, “How are we doing, ladies? Need another minute?” She asked, as she set the drinks down, “Frozen strawberry margarita, Watermelon margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

“I think we’re all set,” Ava raised an eyebrow at Sarah, who nodded.

Enchiladas de espinaca is cheaper.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ladies first,” Ava winked.

“Uh…” Sarah gave a nervous laugh, “I will get the enchiladas de espinaca.”

“Great choice,” Rosie scribbled her order down, “And for you?”

“I will get the steak fajitas with flour tortillas, please,” She closed her menu, “Oh, and can we get a round of Mexican candy shots and a round of tequila shots?”

“Of course, I’ll have that right out.”

“Shots?” Sarah inquired.

“Shots.”

Is she trying to get me drunk? Ava did call an uber to get here, maybe she just wanted a drinking friend…

At the table next to them, the baby started crying. Sarah watched as the mother cooed and shushed, and eventually apologized to her party and left the restaurant with the baby. Ava sipped her drink, before speaking.

“Would you ever have kids?”

Sarah’s heart just about stopped.

She stammered, “I- uh… I don’t know, maybe. I always wanted to be a mom when I was younger,” She smiled, “I even tried to breastfeed my babydolls.”

Ava gave a hearty laugh, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like the lights have just been turned on, and you could finally see in a dark room.

“Didn’t every little girl?” She laughed some more, and Sarah joined in.

Yeah, but little boys didn’t.

“I don’t know,” Ava continued, “Giving birth sounds so painful,” She mused, “I had a pregnancy scare in high school, a false positive from a cheap piece of shit test, and all I could think about was how much it was going to hurt.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah chuckled, “Not even about what you were going to do, how your parents would react?”

“Not even a little bit.”

It was Sarah’s turn to let out a big laugh, imagining the strong, confident surgeon stress over pain, rather than the practical side of a teenage pregnancy.

“How DID your parents find out?”

She snorted, “They didn’t!”

Sarah laughed even harder, and a couple near them turned their heads to stare.

Rosie brought both rounds of shots; The tequila, and whatever a Mexican candy shot was. The tequila shot was a yellow-y caramel color, with salt and a lime on the rim. The Mexican candy shot was a pinkish red shot with what seemed to be Tajin salt around the rim, and a lime as well.

Ava nodded at the shots, “Which first?”

“The pink one,” Sarah reached for it, “What’s in it?” She gave it a sniff.

“It’s watermelon-y,” Ava grinned, “Bottoms up?”

Sarah clinked her shot against Ava’s, and threw it back. The Tajin shocked her taste buds, and the first taste of the actual shot was sweet, like biting into a cool, crisp watermelon on a warm summer day. Almost as soon as she tasted the watermelon, she tasted what seemed like hot sauce, and tart lime juice.

“Ugh, I love those,” Ava dramatically rolled her eyes back, before grinning at Sarah, who gave a smile in return.

“I’m a little scared of the tequila,” Sarah admitted.

“What? Bad night in college?” Ava teased, and Sarah blushed with embarrassment.

“I’ve… Actually never had tequila.”

“So why are you scared? You can wipe the salt off, you know.”

The tequila shot didn’t necessarily disgust her, but she didn’t enjoy it. The salt made her stick her tongue out in disgust, and the alcohol burned on her tongue. She looked up at Ava through watery eyes, and Ava was looking at her with an expression that Sarah couldn’t quite understand.

Ava clapped, and Sarah coughed, and their food arrived. Sarah went tunnel-vision on her food, and Ava’s laughter through their conversations was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol. By the time they finished dinner, Sarah was on her third, maybe fourth margarita. Ava coerced her into another tequila shot, and they shared a plate of churros. Sarah had even tried Ava’s, wiping off the salt from her rim.

The bill was well over a hundred dollars, most of it being alcohol, and Ava paid it with eight twenty-dollar bills without a second thought, and dragged Sarah out by the elbow.

“Y’know,” Sarah slurred, “I thought you hated me.”

Ava’s face fell, “I know.”

“I thau’ you’d neva’ talk t’ me again,” She mumbled, leaning into Ava.

“I know.”

“I was so so sad.”

“I know.”

They were quiet. The only sounds were the Chicago streets. The sounds melted together in Sarah’s head, and she felt miles taller than she was, and miles shorter at the same time. She felt like she might float away, like Ava’s arm was the only thing keeping her on Earth. Sarah was a balloon, but Ava was the string.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Ava whispered, seeming stone cold sober even though they had had the same amount to drink. Sarah was infatuated with her - Everything she did seemed to make her more and more attractive.

Sarah had half a mind to say no, but nodded eagerly.

“You bought me dinner,” Sarah sighed happily, “You’re so nice to me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Mmhmm…” Sarah agreed, “Because surgeons make more than psychiatrists.”

Ava laughed loudly, stumbling a bit herself, “How are you going to pay off all your debt if you buy dinner, miss fresh-out-of-medical-school?”

“Maybe I don’t hate the salt,” Sarah blurted out, ignoring Ava’s joke.

The two walked arm in arm, each of them letting out a giggle every few steps. Ava’s sober front slowly fell, leaving her just as messy as Sarah. They each did their fair share of holding each other up, until the doorsteps of the apartment building Ava lived in.

They stopped.

Ava stared into Sarah’s eyes, as if trying to puncture her soul with an IV needle. Ava had brown eyes - The kind that filled your heart with warmth like you’d just downed a hot cup of coffee between patients - And Sarah knew she had noticed it before, but she couldn’t remember when she realized how beautiful they were.

Ava’s breath, that once smelled like her chapstick and chewing gum, now smelled of strawberry margaritas, tequila shots, and salsa. Her mascara was mildly smeared, not from crying, but from God knows what antics the two had gotten up to. Her teeth were starkly white when she smiled, and made Sarah wonder if they were naturally that white, or if she had treated them to get there.

Ava’s lips made contact with Sarah’s before Sarah even knew they were heading that direction, and she simultaneously tensed her whole body and felt like she was melting to the floor.

Someone’s going to see, someone’s going to see us and hurt me, someone’s going to know-

Ava pulled off with a smack, and smiled coyly, “Wanna head upstairs?”

Sarah nodded, eyes wide. She felt short of breath, and anxiety bubbled in her stomach. Does she mean what I think she means?

She tripped twice heading up the stairs - The elevator was out of order. Ava held on to her, drunk but still more coordinated than Sarah could ever hope to be. Sarah saw stars, and a halo around Ava’s head, convincing her drunk mind that the blonde woman beside her was truly an angel.

When they got to Ava’s apartment, they were kissing before they even closed the door. Ava pushed Sarah against the wall, tearing her jacket off first and then Sarah’s. Somehow, with her eyes closed, she still managed to hang them up on the coat hooks beside their heads.

Ava pulled Sarah’s hair tie out, and tangled her hands in the woman’s curly locks. She needed her lips like she needed oxygen to breathe, and neither of them wanted to let go. Sarah felt things shift between her legs, making her attraction to Ava apparent to her, but even in her intoxicated state she still managed to feel the pang of dysphoria, which made her nauseous. Regardless, she didn’t falter, no matter the discomfort deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Sarah breathed out between kisses.

Oh God.

“Honored to be your first,” Ava responded, equally as preoccupied.

Ava rested her hands on Sarah’s waist, hiking her shirt up slightly in the process. She shivered as Ava’s cold hands made contact with her skin, and her southern equipment stirred, making her dysphoric yet again and only contributing to the nausea. At this point, she couldn’t tell if she was truly nauseous from the alcohol, or just so dysphoric and anxious that her stomach couldn’t tell the difference. She powered through, distracting herself in the warmth of Ava’s mouth and the light touch from her fingertips.

Ava creeped up Sarah’s ribcage until she could feel the underwire of her bra, and then slipped her hands under. Sarah was suddenly very aware of her lower regions, her gaff, and how thin her scrubs were. She would be screwed if something slipped out.

Note to self:

Ava kissed down her neck.

Write a good review for this gaff later.

Ava started unbuttoning her shirt, kissing the newly bare areas as she went. Once she reached the bottom, her lips darted back up to her collarbone, sucking a hickey into the sensitive area.

Sarah’s job was to keep breathing, and not let the panic get the better of her.

This is fine. Adults do this. I’m an adult. She doesn’t know, and she wont find out because I won’t let this go that far.

Ava’s lips captured Sarah’s again.

I won’t let this go far enough to be a problem.

Ava’s hands trickled down to the button on her pants, and Sarah took in a sharp breath.

Ava looked up quizzically, “Do you want this?”

Yes, but I can’t.

Sarah didn’t respond, hoping her fear was not evident in her eyes.

The surgeon put one hand on Sarah’s cheek, and relaxed her other hand from her waistband, “You don’t have to. I won’t be mad.”

Sarah nodded, then shook her head, “I- uh, I don’t want to.”

The anxiety in her chest fizzled out as Ava stepped away, and as much as she craved intimacy, Sarah knew this was better. Ava gave her a warm smile, and held out her hand.

Sarah took it, receiving a squeeze from her, “I can get an Uber or a Lyft…”

Ava looked taken aback, “Why? You can stay, you know. You think I’m going to kick a drunk girl out at,” She glanced at her phone, “Eleven o’ clock at night?”

Sarah smiled sheepishly, and stood awkwardly for a second, “Uh… Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh! That door right there,” She pointed to a modern white door, with silver fixtures. Sarah stumbled towards the bathroom, and practically fell into the room.

She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. She slumped down, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

After a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, she opened the door and hollered, “Ava?!”

“Yes?” The aforementioned woman looked up from the couch, where she was sipping a glass of water and playing a game on her phone.

“Is it okay if I shower?”

“Yeah! Let me get you something to sleep in, I think we’re similar in size.”

Sarah closed the door as Ava got up, and a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Sarah opened it, and Ava handed her a stack of folded clothes, with two towels on the bottom, “I didn’t know if there were any towels in there, so if there are, just leave any extras under the sink.”

Sarah nodded, and Ava gave her a tight-lipped smile, and left.

Sarah closed the door.

It seemed that Sarah was given a bright pink muscle tee, with the words “Cardiac care is a work of heart” in all caps, with an anatomical heart image, and a pair of loose black sweatpants. She rolled her eyes at the shirt, surprised that Ava would own it. It seemed silly.

Sarah stripped, turned the water on as cold as it could go, and jumped in.

(A/N) thx for reading ! lmk what you thought <3

#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #reesker #transfemme!sarah #enjoy!#tbh i went through a lot of questioning as to whether i should post this #but i love it too much not to

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