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pregnant-piggy · 4 years

Text

One coffee please (1/2)

Blaise Zabini x reader

This is part of all I want for Christmas is fanfiction

This is written for @kalimagik‘s writing challenge

Words: 2.9k

A/N: this was my first time properly writing for Blaise and it will definitely not be the last. With this fic he has grown to be a character close to my heart and I am already excited to write more for him!

Prompts: 'what are you talking about? This is brilliant!' and 'you're cute when you're mad'

It was definitely winter. The wind was blazing around in the streets, howling around the corners of high buildings. It was blowing against the windows of houses and apartments, creating loud thrums in the ears of the people inside. The skies were dark grey in the night and icy blue in the morning. The sun was shining but it was cold. Streets froze overnight, but thawed before anyone woke up.

Even the thickest sheets and blankets couldn’t keep you warm as you lied in bed. At night you curled up to a ball to keep all the heat close to your body, but in the morning you woke with cold toes and fingertips. The sheets didn’t reach far enough to your neck and even your woollen jumper couldn’t protect you from the freeze. It was now more than ever that you longed for someone to cling onto in the night, to have their body heat against your skin. You wanted to feel the warmth that came from someone’s arms around your waist and the heat of someone’s fingertips on the skin under your jumper.

Instead you woke up alone in your apartment, the wind pounding against the tall windows. A moan escaped your mouth as you stretched out and the little bones in your back cracked. The cold air of your room flew over your arms and goose bumps formed all from your wrists to your armpits. A shiver ran over your spine, sliding from your neck to the dip of your back. A cold spread through your entire body from only putting your arms above the sheets.

Resting your arms atop of the blankets over your duvet, you sighed and opened your eyes, greeting the darkness that came with the winter's mornings. The sun that woke you in the summer was now still hidden behind the horizon and the tall buildings in the city. The skies were dark blue with clouds that coloured orange from the street lights. Maybe if it had been clear you could have seen the stars.

You had to get out of bed eventually. The longer you stayed in, the more you would have to hurry and the thought of that was almost enough to get you out of bed. But instead you rubbed your face and stared at the ceiling until the alarm from your phone sounded through your room. You lifted your body half in your bed and reached for your phone on the nightstand. Your cold fingers had turned off the alarm before you could even see the screen of your phone; waking up like this had become a habit lately.

After five minutes even your social media couldn’t keep your mind from the fact that useful time was passing and you tossed your phone somewhere on your bed. After a deep breath you threw the blankets and sheets off your yet warm body and swung your feet over the edge of your bed. If it wasn’t for the rug under your feet you would have crawled back into your bed. But instead you got up from your bed and walked to your closet, contemplating just wearing sweats.

You settled on a black pair of jeans and a dark green jumper with a turtle neck, so that you would still be warm. After freshening up and making yourself look acceptable to the outside public, you put on your shoes and stole an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen on your way to the door. Breakfast would come later. Right now you had to make sure you were on time.

_-_-_-_-_-_

Blaise wished he hadn’t worn his hoodie to bed last night. He woke with a sweaty back and quickly threw off the sheets. He welcomed the coldness with open arms, feeling the air wrapping around his hot body and calming down his skin.

It took him fifteen minutes to take a short shower, brush his teeth and put on some clothes. Much different from what anyone would wear on such a cold day, Blaise chose for a simple button up and rolled up the sleeves up his arms, his tattoos peeking out.

He took his keys and wallet from the table next to the front door and closed the door behind him, while he put on the leather jacket and checked his phone for any messages. The door locked with a soft click and Blaise put his other arm in his jacket, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. He reached into his pocket, fishing out his earphones and plugging them into his phone. The tones of his favourite song soon started to play and he relaxed as he walked out of his apartment building.

The streets under his feet were more slippery than they had been all week and it took Blaise a woman who nearly fell to realise. While the woman was helped by a passer-by, Blaise quickly turned around the corner and quickened his pace.

His hands were in his pockets, playing with the keys in his right one. The beat of the music synced with his steps and for a moment he forgot it was early in the morning and he wasn’t a morning person. He even arrived with a smile at the coffee shop he was headed for.

The bell of The Old Coffee House tingled when Blaise pushed open the door. The coffee shop originally was started by his grandfather, who had thought it would be a good thing to do with his retirement. The coffee shop was celebrating its thirtieth anniversary next year. It was the oldest company in the whole block and by tourists it was seen as a mark for the city. Blaise didn’t know if it was really that, but he was glad there were enough costumers.

His mother was managing the place from her home and she would come in once a week, to make sure everything went well. But it was mostly Blaise who had the control in the shop.

Well, Blaise and you.

You were Blaise's best friend. Your mothers were best friends and being forced to spend time together when you were kids had let to a connection to build. You had spent your whole lives together and when Blaise's mother was looking for someone to help her son in the coffee shop, you had been the first to volunteer. He had now been working with you for a year and it had only made that you were even closer now.

Blaise knew everything about you, from your morning routine to your favourite song and the dance you'd do to it. He knew what to do when you were down in the dump and what to give you when you were, as he called, ‘hangry’. He knew how to cheer you up and when to leave you alone when you were angry.

He had seen you at your best and at your worst. He was the first one to hear about your first date with your boyfriend and the one who was there when said boyfriend suddenly left you alone. He had seen you dancing on tabletops and crying in your bed.

Blaise was always there for you, because you had been there for him his entire life.

‘Well aren’t you happy for a Monday morning?’ you asked as you made your way into the space from the backroom, tying an apron at your back. Blaise rolled his eyes at you and took off his jacket. He hung it next to your coat behind the counter and took the apron from the hook, tying it the same way you had done. ‘What got you so cheerful?’

Blaise shrugged and leaned on the counter with his right forearm, watching you as you filled the coffee machine with coffee beans. You were humming along to a song that was playing over the radio while you turned on the machine and made two cups of coffee.

The grinding of the coffee beans sounded over the radio and your humming got softer as you lost track of where the song was. Instead you nodded along to the beat that was still vaguely audible over the low buzzing.

Blaise snickered when you tried to hit the high note and your hum failed to reach it. You shot him an annoyed look and he only shrugged at you, grinning as he turned around and he heard the huff from your lips.

Soon you fell into the routine that had developed over time. Since neither you nor Blaise were morning people, it was soon found that it was best if it was just silent. The only sounds were the radio and the occasional talk with a customer. It was a serene scene for anyone to walk into, seeing two people work in silence in a place that could be such a buzz in the afternoon.

While you helped a costumer to their coffee and muffin, Blaise leaned against the counter and watched you. The sunlight came in from the window behind you and the silhouette of your face was painted against a canvas of golden light. The edges of your figure were outlined by a golden thread. Your cheeks glowed up and your eyes seemed like the brightest gemstones Blaise had ever seen.

Blaise would be the last one to deny that you were pretty. Over the years he had seen you grow into the wonderful person you were now, inside and outside. There was something about your appearance that told the world how you were. With just one glance someone could see you as the passionate person you were, but Blaise knew that there was so much more to it than just passion.

‘Are you alright?’ you asked and Blaise was pulled from his thoughts. He flashed you his smirk and nodded before he took his own coffee mug. You raised your eyebrow at him as you noticed that what was in his mug was not coffee.

‘What’s in there?’ you asked, stepping closer to Blaise, ordering him to show his mug with your finger. ‘It smells like cinnamon.’

‘That’s because it has cinnamon in it,’ Blaise shrugged and he took a sip.

‘Well, of course,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘I figured that.’

Blaise lifted the mug to drink again, but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist and taking the mug from him. You eyed it suspiciously and smelled it. Over the cup you made eye contact with Blaise and with your eyes you pleaded him to tell you what it was.

‘I made it,’ he said, suddenly feeling insecure. He had never told anyone about it. He knew it was silly, but he was afraid someone would judge him over his coffee. ‘I was messing around at home once and this kind of came out of it… It’s not much, but it does help keep you awake.’

You squeezed your eyes before you carefully took a sip and Blaise watched you, biting the inside of his mouth anxiously. You swallowed and held your eyes closed a little longer. Blaise shook his head and turned away from you.

‘I know it’s rubbish-’

‘What are you talking about?’ you cried out, turned Blaise back to you. ‘This is brilliant! You made this?’

The look of adoration on your face was enough for Blaise to start smiling and the blood rushed to his cheeks. He nodded and chuckled when he saw the stun on your face.

‘Why would you hide this from me?’ you asked, tilting your head. ‘What more have you been hiding?’ you added playfully, meaning nothing but still making Blaise fear for his secrets.

‘Nothing you should know about,’ he joked, yet there was a hint of nervousness in his voice that went unnoticed by you. You laughed and pushed Blaise away as you welcomed the next costumer and went back to work.

_-_-_-_-_-_

It had frozen overnight. Or better said, it was freezing at night. It was still dark outside and the sun was hours from rising. Only very few people were awake at this time.

You were sunken deep into your dreams, under layers of blankets to keep the cold from numbing your toes. The cold didn’t bother you yet, but it sure would when you would have to get out of bed in the morning. Luckily, it was Sunday what meant that the coffee shop was closed today and you could stay in bed for as long as you liked. Plans for today had been cast aside and you had nothing to do but sit on the couch in three jumpers and binge your favourite series.

However, fate seemed to have a different thought.

It was narrowing three when the ringtone of your phone started to sound clear and disrupting in your room, waking you from your sleep. In the dark you patted down your nightstand to find the thing that was making the sound and when you found your phone, your thumb automatically went to turn off the alarm. You dropped your phone back next to your pillow, but the sound kept going and you realised it wasn’t your alarm, but someone was calling you.

A loud groan passed your lips as you turned on your back. Squeezing your eyes against the light from the screen and an even louder groan escaped your mouth when you noticed who was calling you.

‘What do you want, Blaise?’ you said, your voice groggy with sleep and annoyance.

It wasn’t unlike Blaise to call you in the middle of the night when he knew you would be asleep just to mess with you, but yet every time he called you worried something had happened to him. However, when you heard his chuckle at your sleepy voice you knew that there couldn’t be something too wrong.

‘Nice talking to you too,’ Blaise said and you could hear the slight double tongue. Of course.

‘Blaise it is two in the morning, what do you want from me?’ you groaned, rubbing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose as you heard Blaise laugh again.

‘I might have accidentally locked myself out of my apartment as I left earlier this night,’ he said. ‘And the janitor won’t answer my calls.’

‘I wonder why,’ you mumbled.

‘Can I come over?’

You sighed and shook your head. Of course you were friends with the guy that forgot his keys in the middle of the night. ‘Sure, come over.’

‘Great, because I am already at your door.’

Without even reacting to that you hung up and put your phone back on your nightstand. You looked in the dark at the pile of blankets on top of you and cursed Blaise under your breath. In the freezing cold you left your bed and patted over to the front door of your apartment. Looking through the peephole in the door you watched Blaise for a minute. His broad shoulders covered with the leather jacket that he never left without were the first thing that caught your eye and you swallowed before you took a step back.

You unlocked the door and opened it. The cold air from the corridor seeped inside the hall of your apartment and you knew that it was over with the heat that you had been trying to create the whole night. You shivered as the coldness reached your bare legs; despite freezing to death, you still couldn’t sleep with long pants.

‘Get inside, idiot,’ you hissed and pulled Blaise inside before he could say anything. He chuckled and ruffled your hair with his cold hand. Taking of his jacket and hanging it next to your other coats, Blaise eyed the distance between the living room and your bedroom curiously.

‘If you wait a minute, I’ll get the couch ready for you,’ you said and you walked to your bedroom, looking at the blankets and deciding which ones you could miss. However, you hadn’t even taken one blanket before Blaise had crawled into your bed, waiting to see what you would do.

Defeated you stood at the foot end of you bed, the end of a blanket in your hands. As much as you tried not to look, you couldn’t help notice Blaise’s bare chest. Your eyes scanned his torso and lingered at his tattoos. It wasn’t like you had never seen Blaise without a shirt, but it just had never happened that he was sitting in your bed without a shirt.

You swallowed down the sudden nervous tingle in your chest and tried to act nonchalant as you shrugged and put the blanket back in its place. You walked around the bed and settled next to Blaise, leaving enough space so it would be appropriate, but still getting a little closer hoping he’d bring you any warmth.

‘Alright, then we’ll do it like this,’ you muttered as you turned down the light and lay down.

And indeed as you had thought, you felt the heat radiating off of Blaise, engulfing you in a warm embrace. The cold that had been pestering you all night was now suddenly gone and you felt you fingers and toes get back some feeling.

‘You owe me breakfast,’ you mumbled as you closed your eyes and your head turned to the side, Blaise’s hot breath stroking over your face as you fell asleep.

- - - - - -

taglist

general HP: @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife @mt2413 @aesthetically-hailey @superbturtlemakerathlete @the-natureofme @missswriter @hahee154hq @chloer1275

#maggieswinterwritingchallenge #all i want for christmas is fanfiction #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini #blaise x reader #blaise imagine #blaise #harry potter #Harry potter x reader #hp

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inkandpen22 · 4 years

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Time is Irrelevant (1/?): The Mystery of Psychology

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

Part Summary: Y/N is an undergraduate student double majoring in history and English. While she’s cramming away at her research paper she’s approached by a rather peculiar man.

Masterlist

“History, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness.”

- James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans

I’ve never imagined myself as one of the greats. They’ve lived before my time and their legacies will outlive me long after I’m gone. The greatest task I can accomplish is do them justice by telling their stories. I must immerse myself in their lives and hope to influence others with their work. I’m merely the surface that the puzzle of history rests upon. Over time, I’ve collected facts from as many historical periods as possible and have memorized them.

I’ve always found history easy to retain. I believe it to be a blessing. Once I’ve heard, read, or watched any kind of information about history I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. My gift made the subject easy for me in school. I also excelled in English. Words resonate with people for generations, they’re needed to retell history. A simple sentence or everyday speech may end up in every history book across the country. Words are equally as influential to our history as our actions. Hence why I’m a history and English double-major. With history comes life lessons, valuable lessons that can only be learned from past experiences. English, words, can impact an entire generation or many, thus influencing history. By telling the stories of the past, I hope to better the future.

___________________________________________________

As I review the archives on the Crusades in front of me, my fingers tap against the table to the beat of the music coming from my earbuds in the otherwise silent archives. Many of my friends have never understood how I’m able to read and listen to music at the same time. What can I say? I’m talented. Disregard the fact that I’ve read this book fifty times over so I could practically recite it from memory. I’m kinda mixing wars here by listening to Hamilton while reading about the French and Indian War. Oh well, there are no rules against the action.

Suddenly, there is a tap on my shoulder. I assume someone must be able to hear my music and is asking for me to turn it down. I close my book as I remove one of my earbuds and peer over my shoulder. I lift my eyes and meet the gaze of a rather handsome individual.

“I’m sorry is it too loud?” I apologize.

“Not at all,” he assures me with a gentle smile and I take note of his accent. “I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of information on the French Revolution?”

The gentleman is lucky, an average person wouldn’t know the archives by heart. I’ve spent nearly every day up here since the early days of freshman year.

“You’re on the right floor so good job.” I joke and point my finger towards the proper section in the middle of the room near me. “Most of the books on the French Revolution that I’ve been able to find are over there but there are more throughout the library upstairs. Nonetheless, those should be a good start.”

He grins, pausing for a moment as he stares me in the eye. “Thank you.” His focus travels to my book sitting on the table. “The Last of The Mohicans, good choice.”

He leaves, as quickly as he appeared, towards the section I suggested. That man is something else entirely. He’s likely a professor considering he’s down here and his considerably formal attire. Only a professor would wear a bow tie. Then again, he appears awfully young. A TA perhaps? That wouldn’t explain his accent though. He could be a visiting professor. Plus, oddly enough, he knows of my book, not many people I know do.

I pop my earbud back in and dive back into reading. The whole interaction was short but interesting nonetheless. I’m not sure what it was about him but he was different than most. It could be that he had this awkward charm and I’m not used to people being so polite. For a young man, he seemed old fashioned. His wording was more articulate, could be because he’s British. Normally a guy would say ‘uh hey so like, could you…. um… show me where the books are for the French Revolution or whatever it’s called? If they have an audiobook or DVD that’s cool too!’

Okay, that’s it, I can’t focus after that guy talked to me. I’ve read the same sentence five times over. It’s best just head home, it’s getting late anyway.

The sun is setting as I make my way back to the apartment. I take the more scenic route by the original brick buildings from the colonial era. Mainly because I like the brick path, especially now that it’s fall and the leaves coat the ground. I’m not surprised to see some boys playing football on the lawn in the center of campus. My first thought is how American they appear, with the crisp leaves scattering the ground, everyone in their duck boots, and playing football. I feel as if I’m in a Lands End catalog.

On the way home, I stop by the student union to fetch a late dinner to take home. I shuffle through the music on my phone, trying to find the perfect playlist for the walk back. I approach the door to the building and the person ahead of me holds it for me as I stare down at my phone.

“Thank you” I mumble absentmindedly.

“Oh well hello again!”

I look up and believe it or not it’s the same man from before. I take notice of his exquisite eyes, their long lashes, and his multicolored uniqueness. I’ve never seen anything like them before. They’re like marbles. A warm chestnut shade toward the cornea but then fades into a ring of emerald that transitions into a deep ocean blue. He has every possibility in one.

“Oh hey!” I respond politely, “did you find the book you were looking for?”

He shows me the hardcover book in his hand. “Yeah, thank you so much for your help earlier!” He holds out his hand for me to shake, “it’s nice to meet you...”

“Y/N,” I answer, accepting his hand. “It’s nice to meet you too!”

I’m not the kind for such formal introductions. In this day and age, there are rarely introductions just frequent run-ins until everyone becomes acquainted.

The gentleman stares at me for a second, visibly deep in thought. He continues to hold my hand, but I’m too awkward to remove it. Then, snaps himself out of it, parting from my hand. “Beautiful name,” he compliments, charmingly.

Normally, I would imagine girls swoon over a compliment from a man with his foreign accent. American girls love a pretty English accent. Yet, his attention makes me feel on display. I’ve never been fond of physical compliments. I never know how to respond to them.

“Are you meeting someone?” I ask.

He looks confused but realizes I’m referring to the building. “Oh! No, no I’m here to get something to eat.”

This was nice, but now I’m over being polite because I’m starving. Plus, I’ve been in the archives practically all day working on my research paper for Medieval History for I’m beyond tired.

“Oh okay…” I stumble over my words, “well, it was nice to you!” I nod, preparing to walk away.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks abruptly before I’m able to escape.

It’s ironic, I’m a mess and he’s wanting my company. The image of me schlepping around this ten-pound backpack wasn’t off-putting to him, really?

“Awesome!” He declares, not giving me the chance to decline his offer before he ushers me inside. “I’ll meet you over there after you get your food!” He adds, pointing over to a specific table.

I was really looking forward to eating in my bed at home, but I can’t decline anyone and risk hurting their feelings. Sticking to my word, I head over to where he instructed after I grab my usual sushi order. Sure enough, he’s already seated at the table. I notice the fact we’re in the far back corner separated from the workers or the other few eaters this time of night. I place my bag next to me on the floor as I get situated.

“You like sushi?” He inquires.

I sway my head from side to side, “Americanized sushi. The traditional raw fish I’ve never tried.”

He chuckles lightly, “one day you’ll have to try it. It’s surprisingly not as bad as one might assume.”He speaks so smoothly. Does it come naturally or does he have to work at it?

“One day,” I sigh with a smile. I would love to see the world and experience everything it has to offer. Yet, I’m a poor college student with responsibilities.

“What’s your major?” He asks, creating casual conversation.

“I’m a double major, English, and history,” I nod.

He raises his eyebrows, appearing amazed. “Impressive!”

“What about you? What do you do?” I’m purposefully vague enough with my questions because I still don’t know whether he’s a student or a professor. He could pass as a graduate student and that’s what has me stumped.

“Oh uh...” he stammers, rubbing his hands together in his lap. “I’m a doctor.”

He’s a professor then. I’m having a social dinner with a professor... is this allowed? “Oh okay,” I try to remain unfazed. “What is it that you teach?”

I’m assuming he must teach history considering the search for the French Revolution book. Then again, I don’t know of any English professors in the department. The topic isn’t really one for some light reading. He could be required to take a history course, though I doubt it.

“Psychology,” he rushes out an answer.

Do I ask or is that too bold? Then again, I’ve never really cared about superficial social standards.

I lean forward in my chair, resting my arms on the table as curiosity appears on my face. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you looking for books on the French Revolution earlier?”

He hesitates as if he’s evaluating my question. His features go blank then shift to sternness. Did I say something wrong? Was I not being polite when I asked that?

“I was picking it up for a friend,” he answers plainly, questionably.

I don’t believe him, not for a second. I’m no expert in psychology but his eyes glanced to his right while his voice went up a little at the end of his sentence. He’s lying. My heart quickens and I do everything in my power to remain calm. I’m going to play along and act oblivious. Perhaps, he has a good reason for lying.

“I was just wondering because you said you were in Psychology,” I say light-heartedly, waving my hand to dismiss the matter.

He sighs deeply, placing his napkin on the table. “They said you’d be hard to fool.” His eyes meet mine with a smirk as he leans back in his chair. “You don’t miss a thing do you?” He snickers.

His words are so ominous they make my breathing hitch as I drop my chopsticks.

“What?” I calmly question, reaching for my back slowly.

In a swift movement, he grabs my hand on the table and points a metal shiny thing at my face. I attempt to yank myself free, but he just squeezes tighter. I look into the light radiating from the buzzing object. Then, suddenly, my sight goes dark. This can’t be good.

_____________________________

Masterlist

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #matt smith #time travel #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x you #doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #imagine #fanfic #doctor who fanfic

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shimmeringclouds · 3 years

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Chapter 1

Akatsuka village was a quiet place.

Not much ever happened, and whenever something did, it wouldn't stick to your mind, eventually fading from memory, and the still silence of the village would take a hold of your every day life once more.

Despite living in Akatsuka for a good few years now, you had a habit of keeping to yourself. You rarely ever found yourself willingly conversing with the other townsfolk living in the houses around you. You always hoped it didn't come off as rude — you just lacked decent social skills, they could understand that, right?

On top of that, the village had always felt.. off to you. There was always this pressurising feeling of someone watching you at all times, peering over your shoulder and burning holes into your back. It was unnerving and uncomfortable, and the worst part was, there was never anyone there.

However, it wasn't like you could just up and leave the Akashika District so easily. It required time and money, and you only had one of those. A part of you wondered if you regretted moving all that time ago, but in the end, you couldn't muster the energy to be so bothered anymore. All in all, you had achieved the quiet and easy-going countryside life you had been needing, and that was all that mattered to you.

Sitting in your fenced off garden, basking in the summer's heat, you began wondering if your life was boring. If it was too simple. If you had sheltered yourself too much. You didn't really have any friends, as sad as it was. They had all slowly fallen out of touch with you once you had moved, and although you had tried convincing them to come down for a visit — or even suggesting that you visiting them — they all happened to be busy. Every time, without fail.

Then maybe, you began to wonder, it was you who was boring. You recalled how plain your life had been, as a toddler to a teen, and now as an adult. You didn't have any interesting stories to share. You didn't have any personal traits that were particularly intriguing or quirky. You were just... normal. Probably a bit too normal.

With a sigh, you cast your sullen gaze towards the sky. It was a single block of blue, but it looked so pretty. It stretched far beyond the horizon, free of clouds and scattered with the occasional soaring bird. The flutter of a white butterfly caught your eye, and you watched the muted coloured insect traverse through your garden, finally landing on a bush of blush pink camellias you had been caring for over the past year or so.

Your mind fell silent, only for it to have a sudden craving for watermelon. You tilted your head curiously, trying to remember if you had any left or not. Standing up, you stretched your arms above your head, lazily readjusting your t-shirt that had ridden up your stomach with the movement before heading towards your kitchen, scouring your table tops and refrigerator for the sweet fruit. To your dismay, there was none left. Which only meant one thing...

"I have to go outside today..." you whined to yourself. Well, you didn't have to. It wasn't like you had to get the watermelon. No, you didn't have to, but you really wanted to eat some under the sun, like you did every summer. You needed to satiate your craving for watermelon.

And so you set about your home, reluctantly attempting to sort out your hair and change your clothes. You were too lazy, though, and ended up swapping out your joggers you were lounging in to a pair of shorts, not wanting to melt on the way to the store, tucking your t-shirt into the hem of the bottoms and messily scrunching your hair up into a bun.

You twirled a few loose strands around your fingers, debating whether you should put more effort into your hairdo, but ultimately deciding there wasn't any point since you would just be hiding away again for the rest of the weekend. No one paid attention to you, anyway.

Grabbing your small purse and pushing it into your back pocket along with your phone, you slipped on a pair of gladiator sandals, securing the intricate straps around your ankles and feet before setting off.

The heat seemed to be far more intense than before, pushing the humid air into your face and causing a cool sweat to suddenly break out over your skin. You grimaced at your clammy hands, discreetly brushing them against the denim of your shorts.

As you walked, you threw your gaze to your surroundings, not finding anything new amongst the same square houses and the same empty shops, the same trio of cats laying in the same position in front of someone's doorway, their eyes watching you as they always did as you trotted past them. It was the same routine, as usual.

The cool air that wafted over you as you stepped through the doors of the supermarket gave you a sense of relief from the roasting warmth. You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing in the soft blow of air before finally moving inside, peering through the empty aisle in search of the perfect watermelon.

Soft music echoed distantly throughout the store, almost silent under the pitter of your footsteps against the tiled ground. You stood still for a moment, straining your ears to try and catch the words that were being sung, but it was much too quiet and muffled, a mix of many different voices merging together to a nursery-like tune. It was odd; they never played music in the store before.

As you continued onward, you pushed the urge to pick up miscellaneous objects and snacks down and away from your mind, even if you had the feeling you were forgetting something. You only came for watermelon. Should you get distracted now, you'd end up with a whole basket full of groceries that you probably didn't need. You crossed your arms over your chest, tucking your hands away into the crooks of your elbows so as not to feel any more tempted.

Eventually, you stumbled upon the correct aisle, tracing along the variety of in-season fruit before they landed on the one you were looking for at the far end of the aisle. The small smile that had graced your lips, however, dropped in an instant at the sight of another person gazing at your desired fruit, a look of confusion lacing your furrowed brows. You had never seen another person shopping here before.

It was a man, donned in a fern green yukata, his brown hair neatly combed to one side as his narrowed eyes scrutinised the two remaining watermelons, his lips upturned into a frown as he held the two heavy fruits in his hands. He hadn't noticed your presence, it had seemed, and you reluctantly began edging your way towards him.

You could feel your cheeks slowly begin to heat up the closer you got, your hands becoming clammier as you realised that you would have to speak to this stranger. Social interaction was never your forte, and you became afraid that your words would fall out of your mouth like running water, gushing and incoherent. But your mind was set on getting the large, jaded fruit, and your feet wouldn't stop moving until you were stood right beside him.

At long last, the man caught the movement at his side from the corner of his eyes, glancing over and jolting in shock at your sudden appearance. His rounded face flushed a pretty pink, tracing over the tips of his ears at the sight of you, and you couldn't control the added heat to your own skin.

"Excuse me..." you spoke softly, averting your gaze from his own smaller pupils to the fruit in his hands. You quickly noted how he had a hold of the last two melons, before continuing to say: "I-I'm sorry to bother you, but could I have one of those?"

Deep down, you felt awful, as if you were stealing something from this poor and unsuspecting man. What if he wanted both of them? You would just have to go home empty handed, remembering how you had bothered somebody for no reason. Maybe you would grab a tub of ice-cream on the way, on second thought, for some comfort food.

The man's mouth flailed open and closed, minute squeaks of words escaping him before he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath.

"OF COURSE!" The sudden loudness of his voice caused the both of you to flinch, his face deepening in colour in embarrassment. "I mean — o-of course! You can have one!" He swiftly pushed the melon in his left hand towards you, a shaky smile on his lips as his hand trembled under the weight of the fruit.

"Th-This one is much sweeter than the other, ha ha."

You raised a brow, staring at the two green misshaped ovals and wondered how he knew that just by looking. You tilted your head, hesitantly brushing your fingers against the melon. "Are you sure? I don't mind taking the other one."

"No no! It's perfectly fine! I-I prefer the more watery ones, anyway..."

That was a blatant lie, but you took the melon from him, saving the both of you from an even more awkward conversation. With a timid smile, you bowed politely, thanking him.

"N-No worries! I — well, uh — goodbye!" The man immediately scurried off, clutching the melon securely to his chest as he rounded the corner, disappearing from your sight. You wondered if you had scared him off, somehow. You could understand, although, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a twinge of disappointment bubble in your chest. You could have made a friend today if you hadn't made the atmosphere so stiff.

You dejectedly dragged your feet through the shop, reaching the till and finding the man to have already left. You lowered your gaze to your feet as you handed your money over to the sleepy looking cashier, carrying the watermelon in your arms. Standing in front of the empty store entrance, you stared at the ground in brief silence, an unhappy frown making its way onto your face.

The walk home was gloomy, as if grey clouds were hanging over your head despite the sun beaming vehemently down onto your skin. You were starting to regret going out to buy the watermelon. Maybe it would have been better if you had just stayed home and ignored the craving. Maybe then you wouldn't have had to ruin someone's day. That's what you did, right?

Silence echoed throughout the barren streets louder than ever before, pulling you deeper into your dampened thoughts and drowning in the sudden sense of guilt that had welled inside of you, gluing itself to your heart like a hardened stone. It seemed that no matter how much you walked, you couldn't escape that voice in the forefront of your mind, whispering into your ear and reminding how much of a failure you were, greeting you as an old friend as you re-entered your home.

You left the watermelon on your kitchen table, and as you walked out, the glint of sunlight bouncing off of metal and into your eyes made you wince. Glancing over, you saw that it was only the metal of your large kitchen knife, displayed on your far countertop for whenever you would need it next. The yellow light it reflected burned into your eyes dangerously, shimmering and beckoning you closer.

Your sullen gaze merely sent it a flat and unimpressed glare before you turned away with a sigh. The games your mind liked to play with you weren't any fun in the slightest. Suddenly, you didn't feel like eating the watermelon anymore.

Falling asleep sounded much more appealing to you. Trudging through the empty hallways of your home, you collapsed onto your cool bed, curling into yourself with baited breath, the light breeze sifting through your opened window cradling you in its hold as you squeezed your eyes shut.

In that moment, all you wanted to do was sleep forever, and the wind encouraged you as you slowly fell into a restless slumber.

#osomatsu san #matsuno sextuplets #matsuno sextuplets x reader #xreader #choromatsu matsuno #chorosuke midorito #first encounters #denki mystery

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gubes-sweaters · 4 years

Text

Mind, Body, and Soul

Authors Note: This is a Spencer Reid AU inspired by @subspencer who started the concept of this AU. This is their original idea btw their blog has top tier plug spence content it’s just *chefs kiss*. This is an AU where he went through school at a normal pace instead of graduating at twelve years old. For a little backstory, his childhood is very similar but instead, he became a plug in high school. He started using and selling because he got bored with school work easily since he’s a genius but no one was in his life to encourage him to excel in school. He also became a plug to help with his mom’s medical bills.

Content Warning: Implied drug use(weed/cocaine), Drinking, Swearing, and implied smut.

Word Count: 2.5K

Chapter 1: Silver Rings and Hand Tattoos

I’m not really a person who enjoys going to parties which is odd because I’m a college student. Most of my peers spend their free time getting high and drinking like fish. I guess you could say I’ve lived a pretty sheltered life because I grew up in the upper-middle-class suburbs and I went to a catholic school for my entire life. Neither of my parents are Catholic or even super religious for that matter, but they wanted me to have a “structured school experience” or whatever that means. I also was handed basically whatever I wanted on a silver platter. My parents separated when I was only two years old because my mom was tired of my dad always being gone for work. So I spent most of my life with my mom who coddled me. Being the sheltered kid I was I never went to parties or snuck out and my catholic school was an all-girls school so my experience with guys is very limited. I’m only at this party for one reason Penelope Garcia.

It all started when I began volunteering at the local animal humane society. That’s where I met Penelope Garcia. At first glance, you would think she was nothing short of the purest little cinnamon roll but looks can be very deceiving. She and I became close instantly, and we hung out whenever I wasn’t at school or working. The first time we hung out the topic of jobs came up and I told her that I’m a college student and I work at a comic book shop for a little extra cash even though I didn't need it because whatever my scholarship didn’t cover my dad insisted on paying for including my apartment because I didn’t want to live in a cramped dorm with three other girls. I think he thinks it makes up for all of the lost time during my childhood at least he’s trying though. When I asked her what she did for a living she started to giggle. After her giggle fit, she told me she was a hacker and a weed dealer.

After two years of knowing Penelope, she finally convinced me to go to and I quote “a little get together with a couple of friends” which actually looks a little more like a frat party to me. Either way, I decided why not because I’m going into my junior year in college, yet I only have three friends one being Penelope and the other two are my friends from my childhood. As I’m walking down the hallway of Penelope’s apartment building I can smell weed smoke and I can hear music blaring from here. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten a noise complaint yet. It’s probably because she sells to a lot of her neighbors, so they put up with it. As I open the door this “little get together” is looking really intimidating. People are packed all in the apartment and there’s very little space to move around. I decided it’s probably best to try and find Penelope. I spot her across the room, but it’s kind of hard not to spot her with the glitter on her eyes and the flashy jewelry she’s wearing. It makes me giggle because I remember all of the times she's spilled various tubs of glitter all over her apartment and now you can’t leave her apartment without a little piece of glitter somewhere on you.

I try to squeeze my way past all of the people in attempts to get near Penelope. I know she can’t hear me between the music that’s blasting and all of the people attempting to talk over the music so calling out for her is useless. As I make my way over to Penelope I spot two people making out on the couch which looks more like they’re trying to eat each other’s faces. Seriously the guy was gripping her hair like his life depended on it. I couldn’t see either of their faces but I spotted a spider web tattoo on the corner of his hand. I quickly look away because I realized I was looking for too long and it was starting to get creepy. I squeeze past the rest of the people and finally make my way over to Penelope and I grab onto her arm and nearly giver her a heart attack.

“Penelope what the hell happened to a little get together!” I ask her with a terrified look on my face.

“Oh finally you’re here I want you to meet a couple of people!” she squeaked out before grabbing my arm and beginning to pull me into the sea of people.

“Don’t avoid the question pen.” I say as I plant my foot in attempts to stop her from pulling me.

I didn’t work very well because she kept dragging me.

“I knew you wouldn’t show up if I told you how many people are here and I wanted you to have a good time sooooo, I figured telling a little white lie would be for the better.” She said while dragging me towards the couch where the two people with their tongues down each other’s throats were. I wonder where they snuck off to or if they just decided to call it a night and leave. I contemplate Penelope’s words and sigh because I know she’s right and I should learn to relax for once.

“Sit here and I’ll get you something to drink.” She says before making her way through the sea of people once again.

I just sit on the couch very awkwardly for a couple of minutes with my hands folded in my lap wondering where Penelope is. I decide to pull out my phone because I’m too awkward to start a conversation with anyone. About half an hour later I take a glance over my phone when I see a figure walking towards me. I thought it must have been Penelope, so I look up even more and put my phone down. It’s just the girl from earlier but now she looks different because she has her mascara running down her face, she's missing a fake eyelash, her hair and clothes are messed up, she keeps sniffing, and now that she is facing me I can see that see her hair is split dyed with one side being black and the other being a bright red color.

“Excuse me I’m sorry my purse is right there can you hand it to me please.” she says as she points to a cute black bag with bat wings on it.

“Uh, yeah here you go.” I say as I reach down and hand it to her.

“Thanks your skirt is so pretty by the way.” She says in a baby-talk voice while she reaches down and pats my head like a puppy. As she bends down slightly to pat my head I can see that her pupils are the size of saucers that explains a lot.

She proceeds to walk away without another word like that didn’t just happen. I’m left sitting there on the couch more confused than ever. I try to contain an awkward chuckle because I don’t want the people near me to think I’ve lost my mind. About five minutes later I figure Penelope must've gotten busy or distracted this is her party after all and it would be rude of me to expect her to be up my ass all night. So I stand up and flatten my pleated mini skirt then I make my way through the people who are packed together like sardines. I didn’t want to seem like a buzzkill or a priss, so I decided to try and socialize a bit. I figured I could make my way into whatever conversation Penelope was in so I wasn’t stealing her away and it would be easier to talk to new people if I had a friend there. As I make my way across the room once again I spot Penelope talking to a lanky guy that is way taller than me. As he has his back to me Penelope must’ve seen me because she waved at me and beckoned me over with one finger in a flirty way. That’s just who Penelope was she jokingly flirted with all of her friends. I’m so used to it by now that it’s just another thing about her that I love. I giggle and pick up my pace as the guy turns his head slightly to see who she was waving to. As I see his side profile I think he looks familiar but I figured it was the multi-colored lighting throughout the apartment and my mind was playing tricks on me.

“Hey (y/n) I want you to meet a good friend of mine this is Spencer.” She says while not being able to get a word out without giggling. She must’ve smoked because she's always kind of giggly but now she can’t control herself.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” I say while giggling because of Penelope’s contagious laugh and I reach out my hand to shake his hand.

“Sorry I don’t shake hands it’s a germ thing.” He says while shifting his weight and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Of course, I had to go and make the situation awkward but at the same time how was I supposed to know.

After the first couple of minutes, it wasn’t as awkward anymore. I found out he’s twenty-two, and he’s from Las Vegas but moved out here for college four years ago. I’m not sure why he choose to move across the country but I don’t really give it a second thought. I also noticed he didn’t talk about his childhood, his job, or anything really personal. We probably talked for about two or three hours. I didn’t even realize how many people left but gradually people would come up to Penelope and say bye.

“Well my lovelies why don’t we turn the music down and switch on all of the normal lights, and we can all talk in the living room!” She says while sitting her cup down.

I think she's absolutely out of her mind with all of the people here and as I go to point it out I turn my head to see that there are only six other people here now other than me, Penelope, and Spencer. Those other six people are already talking in her living room so Spencer walks over to talk to them. Penelope and I turn the music down low but still loud enough to barely hear over the people talking. After that, we turn all of the multi-colored lights off and flip on the regular lights.

Penelope takes a seat next to a pretty girl named Cat on the loveseat near her couch. Cat has shoulder-length dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a really pretty smile. When she introduces herself to me she’s nice, but she’s also very sarcastic. You can tell by the way Spencer shifted his eyes towards her when she and I were talking and how he instinctively turned away from her that they have some sort of history. The only seat left is in between Spencer and the arm of the couch. Three other people were already on the couch so there wasn’t much room. Spencer’s thigh was resting against mine in attempts to turn away slightly from Cat. I finally get a good look at him with normal lighting. He looks like he hasn't slept for a week but it suits him. He has kind hazel eyes and a really pretty mouth. I stop myself from staring because I don’t know him at all and I defiantly don’t want him to think I’m a creep.

Everybody was kind of just doing their own thing. People were either talking or on their phones. After a while, Spencer gently puts his hand right above my knee while I was just scrolling on my phone to avoid awkward small talk. I can feel the cold metal of his rings on my thigh and now I can feel his gaze on me. He lets out a little chuckle and rubs his thumb back and forth on my thigh because he can feel the goosebumps on my leg. I look down at my leg and I see a very familiar spider web tattoo. I instantly tense up because I remember what I saw on the couch and I remember what the girl looked like when she came back from wherever they disappeared off to. He removes his hand really quickly when he feels my body tense.

“Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I’m really sorry.” He begins to apologize.

“No no no you didn't do anything wrong. I… I was just thinking about something I have to do tomorrow and how I’m going to have to get up early. You’re okay you didn’t do anything wrong I promise.” I only half-lie really because he wasn't making me uncomfortable quite the opposite actually. My body didn’t tense because I was uncomfortable it was a reaction to the change in his demeanor. The guy on the couch before seems to be a completely different guy on the couch sitting right next to me.

“You promise?” He asks me still clearly not believing my bullshit excuse.

“Promise.” I say turning my phone off and looking him right in the eyes. Wow, I don’t think I’ve noticed how pretty his eyes are. No. Nope. Don’t do this to yourself don’t be stupid. I try to avoid his gaze and put up walls. At the same time, he puts his hand back on my thigh but a little higher than last time and puts my chin between his thumb and forefinger. I feel myself leaning in towards him and my eyes flutter shut. For a moment I forget that we’re surrounded by other people and I forget where I’m at even. All of a sudden Penelope (clearly unaware of what she just interrupted) claps her hands so loudly that it alerts me and Spencer, and we separate before we kiss, but he doesn't remove his hand from my thigh.

“Okay, my fine furry friends why don’t we play a drinking game. Let’s not let the fun die yet how about a game of never have I ever?” Penelope says after clapping her hands. Wow, thanks for cockblocking me Pen. Well, maybe not because that same hand that was just above my knee before has now made its way right below the hem of my skirt. This is going to be interesting.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid au #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #plug!spencer #plug spencer

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lonelypond · 3 years

Text

BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, ��Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #married #married life #fluff #minor illness and angst #au yeah august

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lovestrucked-again · 4 years

Text

Sanguine I Mafia

Genre: Mafia AU Warnings: dark themes Word Count: 3k ANON Ask: Hi I really LOVE your writing and I’d like to request the reader in the nct mafia series gets in some trouble with another company. Serious trouble. But on accident. So the boys have to really work something out to get her back – I’ve taken the idea and done a little series, hope you like it <3 Summary: You were a second year med student taken in by the house of NCT. It’s not uncommon to be the last to learn things within the house but when your safety is threatened, your forced to leave home with no option. But it only makes things worse.

****

Waking up to a loud racket in the morning was nothing new or surprising for you. After moving in, the rarity of having a silent morning was priceless and you could only dream of those days. However, for this Thursday morning, waking up so late in the morning was a disaster, finding out you’re running late to your morning lecture wasn’t what you were expecting. As a second year med student, suggested by yours truly, Qian Kun, you were crushed by the weight of content, leading to late study nights and hectic schedules.

When you were first bought in, you were still a first year student, confused in what course direction to take, what your interests were, and your own capability. As you got comfortable within the house while your first year ended, Kun suggested going into medical school, noticing your attention to detail and caring nature. Lucky for you, your studies were never an issue and getting in proved no difficulty.

Your bedside clock given as a gift from Doyoung (because your always late), showed 8:02am, 28 minutes before it starts. Quickly jumping out of bed you ran to your bathroom, brushing through the knots that had formed in your hair overnight and taking a shower. After getting dressed and grabbing your phone and bag you ran downstairs to grab a snack before leaving. Surprisingly the house seemed strangely quiet for an early morning. A few of the boys slept in during the mornings, somehow managing to sleep though the heavy noise, but majority would be up and about by now.

You sneaked a peak into the living room while grabbing an apple from the fridge, seeing the absence of people. You grabbed your usual set of keys from the row of hooks at the entrance to the garage, noticing most of the car keys were missing but too late to think deeply into it. You ran over to your favourite car within the garage and threw your backpack onto the passenger seat beside you before starting the engine and driving as fast as you could to your class.

Arriving 5minutes after the lecture started, you sneak in through the back door hoping no one would notice you. Obviously with your luck, the class happened to be completely silent when you entered and the sound of the door creaking open caught everyone’s attention. You mumbled a small apology to the lecturer who didn’t bother to acknowledge your presence and continued with his talk. You settle into your seat and pull out your laptop and begin typing away as he talks.

Almost halfway through your lecture your phone buzzes. You ignore the initial vibration felt from the phone on your desk, too immersed in typing as your lecturer continues talking without bothering to slow down. However, as soon as the continuous texts popped through, the students around you were starting to give you looks and you had no choice but to answer to your phone. You glance at the screen noticing the texts from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun: Where are you?

Jaehyun: Y/N?

Jaehyun: Y/N? Answer me.

Y/N: In a lecture, something up?

You see the three little dots typing through the screen for a minute, then disappearing, and then reappearing.

Jaehyun: No, have fun and stay safe.

Not bothering with it too much, you placed your phone in your bag this time, and tried to catch up to what the lecturer was explaining. When the digital clock above the board showed 10am, the lecturer began piling up his paperwork, and dismissed the class.

Normally you’d find the Dream group who would be roaming around the campus around the same time as you had your lunch break. The 2000s line were first year students due to their part time commitment as students. They balanced life at home with training and missions while also completing a normal life – forced upon by Taeyong. You made your way over to the tables under the shaded trees and pulled out your phone to pass time. It was almost 10:30 when you realised there was still no one here.

You pull up the group chat you had for the bunch of you who attended college; Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, Jaemin and you.

Y/N: Did you guys all ditch today?

Haechan: We got held back at home

Y/N: You’re at home?

Haechan: Yeah

Y/N: It was so quiet this morning though, I thought no one was home.

Haechan: Big meeting today

Y/N: Guess I’m spending lunch alone

Jaemin: Go make some new friends

Jaemin: Girl-friends only

Y/N: :(

You hum to yourself, putting in your earphones and grabbing your drawing pad along with a pen. The time passes rather quickly as you sketch out the trees in your view, the figures of people passing by, the group of friends gathered on the lawn. The music abruptly stops and you look at your phone, confused at the interruption. You notice the call coming through and pull out your earphones to place the phone against your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey can you come to the car?”

“My car?” You ask, confused.

“Yeah, I’m at your car.”

“Okay, give me a few minutes.” You tell him, hanging up to gather all your belongings.

You notice the familiar car parked next to your own car and your face crinkles up confused at the unannounced visit from Lucas coming to your campus. Lucas stands leaning against the bumper of his car, staring at his phone not seeing you approach him.

“Hey what are you doing here?” You ask,

“I’m picking you up.” He simply states, putting his phone in his pocket and taking your laptop and textbooks from your grasp.

“I drove though.” You tell him.

“I know, one of the guys will get your car,” he says, motioning to the passenger side of his car for you to get in as he places your stuff in the back seat and opens the door on the driver’s side for himself.

“What’s going on?” You ask, closing the door before your fighting with your seatbelt strap to pull over your shoulder.

“We’re going on a vacation.” Lucas replies, leaning over to help you with your seatbelt. You lean back against your seat as he fumbles with it for a second and then buckles you in.

“Thanks, and I don’t know if you’ve realised but I still have lectures to attend tomorrow.” You tell him.

“Jaehyun handled them already.” He tells you.

“What do you mean?” You ask, starting to get concerned with the sudden situation. “Lucas what’s going on?” you ask again.

“Call Jaehyun, it’s better he tells you,” Lucas says, letting out a sigh as he pushes the gear stick into drive. You pull out your phone and dial his number, being sent straight into voicemail. You try again while Lucas watches, waiting for a response as well.

“He isn’t answering.”

“Try Taeyong.” He tells you. You click onto your speed dial for 1, calling Taeyong immediately. The phone rings for a few seconds and as your about to give up, he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hey princess what’s up?”

“Jaehyun didn’t pick up his phone and what’s with this sudden vacation? I still have classes to attend.”

“I’ve put your application on defer for now.”

“You did what?!” You yell into the phone. Lucas flinches from your sudden raise in voice.

“Sorry I should’ve talked about this with you.” You hear Taeyong sigh through the other end.

“Yeah, obviously. I’m not going on vacation or whatever this crap is Tae, I’m going back to class tomorrow.”

“Y/N things aren’t going very well recently and I need you to get away from everyone so your safe.”

“I don’t care about that, since when did you have a say in my education and what I do?!” You yell, “I’ll move in with a friend if I have to but I’m not leaving.”

“Sorry Y/N but I can’t let you do that, please just go with Lucas for now okay? I’m busy at the moment so I’ll call you back later.” He states, hanging up before anyone has a chance to say more.

Little did you know, the meeting that occurred earlier in the day was to discuss the current situation with enemy plans and events that have recently been going on. The members had been taking turns following you secretly to classes or trying to accompany you wherever you went without you realising it. Taeyong had been receiving threats lately regarding the entire NCT and the safety of the members. When someone sent an anonymous email to him containing images taken of you doing your daily activities outside of the house he decided it was time to separate you from the group.

Much to many of the members disliking of being separated and out of site, you were in danger to be living with them in this current situation. You leaving the city was planned last minute today and was agreed upon by majority in the meeting. Doyoung and Lucas had packed all your essentials within a few minutes before Lucas left to pick you up, leading you to where you were now. Your safety had been left in the hands of Lucas, unfortunately. Not saying that you were on bad terms with Lucas but more of his reliability seemed to be questionable.

Lucas on the other hand was even more miserable than you. The problem of babysitting you while being separated from all the action back home and being stuck inside a hotel would kill him of boredom.

The car ride was mostly silent, Lucas trying to change through the music playing and then being interrupted by phone calls coming through. He connected them to his in ear Bluetooth, trying to avoid you from hearing about the business projects he was dealing with. You rotated between sleeping and scrolling through social media for the car ride. Eventually as night falls, he pulls into a hotel within a small town. The two of you get out the car and he goes in ahead of you, tossing the keys to you while he susses it out.

The front desk lady had placed a pair of keys on the counter bench when you walked in the front door. You could see Lucas was running a hand through his hair – a habit he did when he was frustrated - when you approach him.

“What happened? Did you place a reservation?” You ask Lucas as he dials Jaehyun.

“The guys did, Jaehyun gave me the address for this place.”

“What’s the problem then?” You question, confused.

“Why did you book only one room and there’s only one bed?” Lucas complains into the phone. As soon as Lucas mentions one room you go blank. Sharing a bed wasn’t an issue for either of you, considering you’d had frequent movie nights with him which you ended up sleeping there instead of returning to your room. The problem is his sleeping habits. They want me to share a room with this loudass? How am I meant to sleep through his snoring? Your head was running through a billion problems and you were bought back into reality just as Lucas was about to hang up.

“Jaehyun what is this?” You ask, motioning for the phone from Lucas.

“Hey baby how are you?”

“Great. A little frustrated but you know, nothing new.” You tell him sarcastically.

“Yeah I know, sorry everything was too sudden for you.”

You sigh into the phone, knowing that you shouldn’t be taking your feelings out on him, “Yeah.”

“It’ll be over soon,” He says, comforting you through the phone.

“Okay,” you mumble, “Lucas and I are checking in now, be careful okay?”

“Yeah you too.” He replies, just as you end the call and hand the phone back to Lucas.

Lucas takes the keys on the counter and the two of you head back to the car to bring your belongings up. The room was simple. A large king sized bed and a TV in its direct line of sight. The bathroom connected near the entrance in a separate area and a little study desk and lamp. A little couch at the far end near the curtains covering the sight of a balcony.

“I’m going to shower first.” You tell him, searching for your pyjamas.

“Don’t be so slow, I’m tired.” He complains.

“Says the boy who spends 20minutes in there.” You shoot him a glare and he smiles at you blinking his eyes with innocence. “Also who packed my suitcase, where’s my pjs?”

“Doyoung and I did, don’t know if we packed pjs though..” he trails off. He pushes himself up from the couch and flips through his bag. He pulls out a plain white shirt and throws it across the room to you, “Wear this.”

“Is it clean?” You ask, holding it with the tips of your fingers. His hygiene routine isn’t classified as one of the best within the group and you feared he had given you a sweaty one.

“Obviously.” You give him a suspicious look and gather your night time things, heading into the bathroom. You strip down and step slowly into the tub, turning the water on high and letting it beat over your head as the steam begins to fog up the mirror. Closing your eyes, the heat of the water soaks into your skin and you lean against the cool tiles, exhausted at the day of events.

After you’ve washed shampoo and conditioner through your hair, you turn the tap off, squeezing out the water with your hands into the tub before stepping out. The towel hangs from the door hook and your easily able to grab it without getting the floor wet. You quickly dry yourself off and chuck on a bra, undies and Lucas’ white shirt. You wrap the towel around your hair as you step out and the temperature difference of the rooms immediately causes you to shiver.

“You can go now.” You tell Lucas, jumping straight under the covers of the bed. He hums in response, throwing you the TV remote while he disappears. You lean up against the bed board and flick through the channels, finally deciding to just turn it off instead when nothing seems interesting just as your phone beeps.

Johnny: Hey Princess are you still awake?

Y/N: Yeah, how is everyone?

Johnny: Everyone’s okay, there’s a training session going on at the moment so they’re all a bit busy

Y/N: Ahh okay.

Your debating whether you should ask about Taeyong, regretting yelling at him earlier and knowing he was only trying to keep you safe.

Y/N: Is Taeyong mad at me?

Johnny: He’s not mad, just a little stressed is all.

Johnny: Don’t worry about it.

Y/N: Okay

Johnny: Go to sleep now, it’s getting late, you and Lucas still have to keep driving tomorrow.

Y/N: I will, goodnight.

Johnny: Night <3.

Just as you shut your bedside light, Lucas walks out the bathroom shirtless, ruffling his hair with the towel and eyes glued to his phone.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch?” He asks, glancing over at you.

“Me?” You question.

“Well I’m too tall to fit and besides, I’ve been driving all day and I’ll be driving all day tomorrow.” He states, pulling the sheets down on the other side.

“Do you know how many bedbugs are on that couch?” You ask before answering it yourself, “too many.”

“Just don’t kick me throughout the night like last time.” He warns you, flipping over to his side.

“Wow you’re so terrifying.” You mumble, crawling more towards your side of the bed. “Don’t snore like your Santa Claus okay?” You remind him.

Lucas obviously ignored your warning as he snores throughout the night. You let out a groan as you sit up and push him over, tossing him more towards his side of the bed. He stops snoring momentarily and then it starts again after a few minutes of peaceful silence. Are you kidding me. You do your best to just ignore him and fold the pillow against your ear, making the sound as quiet as possible. Your phone rings just as you feel like you’re finally falling into sleep and you cry in frustration, rolling over to reach it and pick up, not looking at the caller ID.

“Hey baby, how have you been?” The deeper voice asks.

“Sorry, do I know you?” You mumble, still asleep in your state.

“Ouch, that hurts, how could you say that to your lover.”

You open your eyes, squinting at the light of the unknown number on your phone screen. “Sorry I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

“Do I really? I swear this was the number for Miss Y/N, the beautiful lady who happens to be living with one of the desired Mafia gangs.” You stayed silent through the phone, immediately sitting up, obviously this guy knew who you were and your relation to the boys. You glance at Lucas whose still asleep and your feet search for your slippers. Quietly you tip toe out to the hallway, leaving a gap in the door behind you. “If I’ve still got the wrong number feel free to hang up, I’ll continue chatting with the so notorious leader who happens to be knocked unconscious.”

“WAIT!” You whisper into the phone,

“Hm?”

“Wh-what do you want?” You hesitatingly ask.

“That’s what I thought.” He laughs. “Now I know you aren’t alone baby, so is anyone listening to us?”

“No.”

“Good girl.” He hums before continuing “I want you to come home.”

“What?”

“Come home, alone.” He says, “and remember to keep this a secret, or it might be bad for the present I have for you. I’ll be waiting.”

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mingishoe · 5 years

Text

The van ride

Mingi x Fem!Reader

Smut Warning: Kinda exhibitionsim, marking, dirty talking, lil bit of degrading, thigh riding, edging, handjob in the back of the van, finger sucking??? That’s it I think-

Fluff if you squint

Word count: ~2.1k

Summary: While going to film their latest music video you just can’t seem to get enough of Mingi’s thighs even if you are in the back of the van with the other members.

Part 1 of the kink series

11-13-19

——————————————————————

If someone asked you what your favourite part of Song Mingi’s body was you’d say it was his thighs. You have to admit, Migni has some good thick thighs that you can never not be touching.

It’s not always sexual, it could be you laying your head on them, or your feet, or just having your hand resting on one. When you sit on Mingi’s lap it’s a different story. Sure it doesn’t always end where your legs feel like jelly, but today wasn’t one of those days.

You were in the van with Mingi and the rest of the members driving like 13 hours to film a part for their new music video. You and Mingi got the two seats in the very back just so you could lay down properly since it was already 3 in the morning.

It started off innocent, you just resting your head on his thigh while drawing shapes on his thigh. Y’all stopped so the driver could get some rest and pretty much everyone was asleep. You had been asleep for around 6 hours and you had woken up not feeling tired anymore.

In your opinion (the right opinion ;))Mingi was the most beautiful and ethereal man you’ve ever seen. You were still laying on his legs while you were looking up at him. He was awake too, having fallen asleep with you earlier, his phone screen lighting up his face. You find yourself always staring at Mingi with the most loving look on your face. It obviously isn’t the best angles to look at someone but from where you’re laying you can see all his best features, his jawline, his plump lips, his beautiful nose, and his cute eyes(basically his whole face) Mingi could feel you staring at him and let one of his hands down to play with your hair and face.

You grabbed onto his hands and started playing with his fingers as you sat up. You leaned against his shoulder watching him scroll through his social media, “Not tired anymore?” he whispered as to not wake up anyone. You hummed, still feeling the grogginess of having just woken up.

He puts down his phone down and holds his arms out for you to go with him. You turn towards him and straddle his lap and put your head in his neck. He’s rubbing your back and you’re playing with the hair on the back of his neck. This is one of your favourite positions to be in, or as crazy as it might sound or look because of the size difference between you and mingi, Mingi straddling your lap.

You know how this usually ends and it cannot happen in the back of the van with everyone in it. San, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa in the seats in front of you. Two of them will never let you live it down and the other will never not look at you in disgust from this point onward. “Mingi— no…” you mumbled into his neck as he started rubbing down your back and to your thighs.

He hummed while starting to rub up and down your ass and thighs. “They’re gonna wake up, Min-” you got cut off as he moved you to where you were only on one of his thighs. You tried to close your legs before anything started to happen but as soon as your knee touched his hard on, it was all over for you. You let yourself relax while your face was hiding in his neck.

Mingi’s hands were moving to grip your hips and slowly started to move your bottom half against his thigh. You usually were never super quiet while doing things like this but considering there were 8 other people in the van, you had to be completely silent.

Your breathing is starting to become labored as he starts to move you a little bit faster, “Ah~ M-Mingi-“ you whined. “Shh~ baby girl, unless you want everyone to see you grinding on my thigh like a puppy, I’d suggest you be quiet.” You nod while starting to suck and nibble on mingi’s neck. You knew his makeup artist wouldn’t be happy about it, but it was the only thing that would keep you quiet enough. “C-can't,” you whispered in his ear.

It was too hard for you not to make any noise, you were making small whimpers while licking the marks you left on Mingi’s neck in different shades of a pretty pink. “Can’t what? Hmm? Can’t be quiet so seonghwa won’t catch you? Maybe you want him to see you, don’t you? You want Seonghwa hyung to catch you being a little slut, don’t you?” He growled in your ear. Before you and Mingi dated you had the biggest crush on Seonghwa. The one time you told Mingi, before y’all even dated, he got so Jealous. It was at times like this where he would really bring out all his jealousy on the subject.

You heard some rustling from somewhere in the van and you stopped all movement. Your chest heaving, your conscience telling you to stop, and your own need telling you to keep moving. Mingi didn’t like that, he grabbed your hips turning you to where you were facing the rest of the van.

You turned your head towards Mingi with a pleading look to which he returns with a a laugh and a head shake, “keep going, this time don’t stop.” Your heart slamming against your ribs begging you to stop, but you don’t you grab the seat in front of you to stabilize yourself and started moving again.

While his hands were on your hips you moved one of your hands back to palm him. He was wearing sweats so you could feel how hard he was in your hand. You could feel him grip your hips harder while he started to move you faster. You groaned as you put your head down to rest on the seat in front of you, right behind Wooyoung.

You gripped his length harder before you moved your hand to grab him out of his pants. He bucked his hips making you bounce on his leg. You were close, your stomach was tensing, your core was throbbing, your legs were shaking. You turned to Mingi shaking your head with tears eyes, “p-please, can’t take it.” You were sloppily jerking him off, paying close attention to the tip to make him cum faster.

He grabbed you and pulled you so you were flush against him as he stuck his hands down your shorts feeling how wet you were. “Fuck~ you’re so wet, look” he practically moaned in your ear. He pulled his hand from out your shorts, showing you his two fingers covered in your slick. He brought his fingers to your lips as you opened your mouth for him to put his fingers there. You closed your mouth around his fingers and started to suck.

Your hand started to move faster around his length while gripping it harder. He started bucking his hips more frequently and he pulled his fingers out your mouth to stop your hand, “F-fuck, you need to stop or else Im gonna cum.” You stopped your movements and gripped the base while he slid his hand back down your stomach to dip back in your shorts.

You were so close you could cum from a single touch. Mingi used your slick as lube to stick a finger in you. “O-Oh fuck,” you moaned a little bit too loud. “What did I tell you? Hmm? Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? If you want Seonghwa Hyung to join us why don’t you just wake him up and ask? You could show him how much of a slut you are, how much you want him to touch you” your heart was slamming in your chest, Mingi wasn't being quiet, he was above a whisper.

He stuck a second finger into your core and started to move his wrist faster and harder helping his fingers to reach your sweet spot which made you turn your head and take mingi into a kiss. You start to move your hand that gripping Mingi slowly causing him to growl in your mouth. You pull away with glassy eyes, “Mingi, fuck, Mingi Please, I can’t hold it anymore.” He looks down at you and smiles while starting to move his hand faster making a wet noise come from your bottom half, he brings you into a kiss trying to block all the muffled moans that threaten to spill from your now swollen lips.

Both your hands are moving faster, his precum all over your palm and fingers, your cum soaking your panties. Your eyes closed, vision filled with blurry dots as you cum. Hard. Your legs are shaking and whines spilling from your lips as Mingi continues his actions on your core helping you come down your high. You calm down a little and continue to move your hand that’s around Mingi’s length and you can feel him tensing and he starts to moan quietly in your ear.

It physically hurts you how quiet he’s being. Mingi is usually loud and vocal and his moans are so beautiful to you. Right before he cums you panic for a second wondering what you’re gonna do, you don’t want him getting all messy with him cum but you don’t have enough space to take him in your mouth.

All the worries go out the window as soon as he lets out his pretty sounds it’s all you can think about. You try and catch most of his cum in your hand but some of it goes onto his sweatshirt. You feel him softening in your palm so you use your other hand that isn’t filled with cum to put him back into his boxers. He slowly opens his eyes to look at you as you take your hand and start putting your fingers in your mouth one by one licking the cum off your fingers and palm while making eye contact.

Your heart swells at the sight of your beautiful boyfriend looking so fucked out beside you. He looks down at his sweater and laughs slightly, “S’alright, we can wash it.” You slide off his lap with a bit of a grimace because your underwear is sticking to you uncomfortably, “uncomfortable?” You see Mingi looking at you with an amused expression. You nod while he laughs at you. You look around a little bit and try and take off your underwear without taking off your shorts too. You look up at Mingi and he grabs the thin fabric and rips it, “YAH, Mingi~ you’re getting me another pair!” You whisper laugh at him while he grabs your soiled, ripped, underwear and puts them into his bag.

Mingi takes off his sweater and opens his arms once again for you to cuddle. It doesn’t matter where you are he’s always ready to cuddle and it’s your favourite thing ever, especially after moments like this he becomes into a big teddy bear. You go back into his arms and on his lap with your back against his chest and he just holds you. “You okay, was it too much?” He questions you while resting his face into your neck. You shake your head and giggle, “no, as long as no one heard that… even tho I’m sure someone did…” you laugh while playing with Mingi’s hands.

You’re kinda just spaced out until you see someone’s phone screen light up on the roof of the car and your heart drops. “M-Mingi-“ you turn to look at him and he has the same expression on his face. Your phone buzzes next to you and your heart sinks out your ass when you see who it is.

[Seonghwa 4:13am] why don’t you wake me up next time, hmm?

Your eyes practically burst out your skull and what your looking at, however; Mingi is laughing his ass off behind you. “Seems like you were already awake tho?” You say aloud trying your best to sound innocent as you hear a snort coming from in front of you as Seonghwa turns around and rolls his eyes at you. “Next time just let me know oppa~ I’ll be happy to help” you say in a whisper while winking at him, knowing you got his soft spot with “oppa” Mingi is still laughing behind you but actually taking your proposition into consideration on Seonghwa joining y’all.

#ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #song mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez angst #smut #fluff #angst

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harryandmolly · 4 years

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fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *1*

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, big angst but with a purpose

wc: 5k

July 2019

Lilly’s fingers are sunk into the curls at the back of his head, perhaps subconsciously clinging to something already lost. Maybe something she never even had.

His kiss is so brief. It’s a flutter against her lips, followed by a jerk of his head that’s so certain in expressing his desire to be away from her that he may as well have already said it. He steps back, the corners of his lips lifting, soft and timid.

Lilly’s fingers fall. He doesn’t catch them.

“No,” she whispers. Her chin starts to go first. She’s like a cartoon character when she cries. Her chin begins to wobble, then her pillowy lips. Her round cheeks get rounder. Her blue eyes go an eerie sort of green.

She’s watched it happen before, in mirrors when she’s alone. He’s seen it, too. But never from so very, very far away.

“I don’t…” she begins, her voice a painful rake across its cords, “I didn’t know.”

He’s appropriately solemn in that horrible way that feels schooled, like he practiced, like he’s getting through it to get through it. He hunches his broad shoulders, bows his head a little like he’s sorry. God, is he even sorry?

“I’m so sorry,” he says, and holy fuck, no one’s voice has ever hurt so much. She wants to rip it away from him, maybe that would cause him as much pain.

Her numbing fingers cup her arms across her chest, guarding her explosive heart. She can’t even look at him now. She used to think he wanted her to look at him. Did he ever?

“I don’t really know what to say,” he confesses, scrubbing at the back of his neck, keeping his eyes down at his shoes, “I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t think she was ever going to want me.”

Lilly’s back hits the wall and it gets his attention. He blinks up at her, startled, then snaps back into well-trodden guilt.

He doesn’t have to tell her who he means. Anyone who was half paying attention could do that. Because even though he’s the one breaking her heart, she still gets to be called the fool who let him.

“I trusted you,” she breathes, and it’s acid, “When you looked at me, when you held me, when you loved me, when you told me it was me, I fucking trusted you.”

He looks somehow hurt now, like she’s hitting below the belt. Because how dare she question the farce he strung her along for, for his own erstwhile entertainment?

“Don’t do this,” he scolds, shaking his head like he’s the one who’s disappointed.

She is all rage, and it’s bliss. It’s jet fuel and it won’t last her and somewhere buried below the molten spite she knows when she inevitably burns through it, she’ll be just whatever’s left, but it has to ignite, it has to go somewhere.

“All this time, it was always her,” she seethes, dropping her head back against the wall because if she doesn’t anchor herself, she might take a running start at him, “Was it ever, even for a second, was it ever me?”

His heavy eyes drift shut. He looks exhausted. Lying is fucking draining.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, and Lilly believes him. She shakes her head.

“You stupid boy,” she spits, watching as his eyes slam open again, offended, “You stupid fucking child.”

“Stop,” he grunts, defensive again. It’s a red flag to a bull.

She lifts off the wall, fists in her hair. “You had me so fooled. I thought you were so mature. God, you wore it well. The way you talk about your music and your family and your future. I thought you were a goddamn adult. No. You’re not. You’re a child.”

“You sound insane!” he cries, squaring off his perfect jaw.

“You’ve been waiting around for years. What do you think? You get a Calvin Klein campaign,” He scoffs and takes off toward the door, but she follows, “And now she’s suddenly paying attention, but whatever, it must be real? This is it? She’s finally yours? So fucking naive.”

He slams a solid fist against the doorframe. “You don’t know! You don’t know shit about us. Stop talking like you know anything. You’re fucking jealous.”

“Jealous!” she screeches, clutching her chest with both hands, choking on every breath, “Of course I’m fucking jealous! Were you waiting to hear me say that? Of course I’m jealous. Because I’m in love with you! While you had one eye on her and one hand on me, I was in this. I was all in. I love you. I love you! And you love her!”

For no good reason at all, saying it out loud knocks out the ignition. She nearly crumples. With an almost theatrically shuddering breath, she steps back.

He stares at her, bewildered. What could he possibly have expected? Did he really think she wasn’t going to remind him? Worse, did he really think maybe she was lying, too?

Lilly shakes her head, slow and deliberate, pressing a rolled up sweaterpaw to one of her gushing eyes. She is cracking apart. Part of her wants him to go so she can do it alone. The spiteful part wants him to watch what he’s done.

Lilly wonders if she’s waiting for him. She wonders where. At her place? At a hotel? Maybe she’s in a Lyft outside Lilly’s house. She almost wants to check. She manages to keep her feet planted because Camila Cabello is not worth life in prison.

“I just want you to know,” Lilly begins, and her voice is as painful coming out as it is to hear it, “That I really want to hate you. And that should mean something to you. I can’t hate you yet, but I cannot wait for that to kick in. Until then, I’m stuck with loving you. But know when you’re falling asleep with her tonight, brushing your lips against her hair, playing with her fingers, know that I love you, but I want nothing more than to hate you.”

Finally, the guilt looks real. Finally, the shock has his own breath shaking. Finally, she managed to set one little fire from the sparks of her blaze.

He leaves without another word. And she’s left with the wreckage.

March 27, 2020

Lilly used to read creepy stories on the internet. It was one of her many fads. She’d hunt through Reddit and Buzzfeed and Tumblr, trolling for words that made her skin crawl. There was a post once somewhere about the world’s shortest scary stories.

The last man on earth sat alone in a room. Then came a knock at the door.

She’s been preoccupied by that one lately, but she’s unsure why. Maybe it’s because she’d rather be alone right now instead of holed up with seven roommates. Maybe it’s because she’s grateful not to be alone.

The stay-at-home order in Los Angeles has been in place for eight days. Lilly’s been home for ten, when production on her series shut down. No production, no need for a freelance PA. That night, she held her breath and applied for unemployment just like six million other Americans.

She’s gone a bit nocturnal, staying up until 2 or 3am and waking up around noon. She does yoga, paints her nails, washes her hair every day, which makes it brittle and dull. She re-paints her nails, then bites them off while she checks Twitter.

She talks to her mom, who agonizes about the choice to keep Lilly in LA though she and Lilly’s dad would so much rather have her home and close. Lilly’s mom has a respiratory condition that makes her immunocompromised. If she goes home, she risks her mother’s health. She can’t bear the burden.

She talks to her friends and coworkers. Everyone is still in a state of shock for the first week -- scared, anxious, not yet angry. The anger will come later. Lilly understands in her own much smaller way the convoluted route anger takes through fear and numbness. That anger that’s taken a merciful backseat in her mind in recent months feels completely unimportant now, when it crosses her mind at all.

She talks to herself a little, too. It’s not unusual for her, exactly -- being an only child, sometimes it was the only way to make conversation growing up. But more and more as she attempts to self-isolate in her basement bedroom, avoiding her roommates with more fervor than usual, she worries about her growing dependence on it.

When the knock at her door comes, she’s mid-sentence, telling herself putting on the leggings is the hardest part of a workout, and she should just fucking do it and--

It’s two short raps at the door leading to the pool deck. The scary short story flashes behind her eyes as she blinks quickly, startled by interaction from the outside world.

She waits a few beats too long before she goes to the door, pausing with her fingers on the handle. She decides to believe it’s one of her roommates that got locked out upstairs, even if somewhere deeper she knows it’s not.

He had backed up off her little porch after knocking. Lilly’s not sure if it was out of a respect for social distancing or a concern that she might take a swipe at him. Either way, smart move.

Words seem superfluous. Lilly prides herself on a sharp, well-delivered line, but combing through the tangles of her brain, she has nothing. And she’s disappointed to discover the clawing in her throat and the increase in her heart rate that indicate if she tries to talk now, she might just start crying.

“I’m sorry. I know I should’ve called.”

He says it like he definitely thought about it and decided not to. She probably wouldn’t have answered. He once knew her well enough to know that.

She continues staring, wrapping her arms over her chest. He lifts a hand into his shaggy curls, longer than she’s seen on him before, but not totally unkempt. She can’t say the same about his facial hair.

“I needed to talk to you,” he continues. He’s doing the thing where he ducks his head and looks up through his lashes to be sweet and non-threatening.

Ever heard of a phone?

Funny, you haven’t needed to talk to me in nine fucking months.

Nothing feels right, so her jaw stays locked. She continues staring.

“I don’t want to come in, I just got off a plane--” he starts, and she finds her voice.

“Did it look like I was about to invite you in?”

He blinks hard and shifts on his feet. “N-no, I mean, I didn’t mean it like that, I just--”

“Shawn, I have no idea what you think you’re doing here, but you need to say it quickly before I walk straight into the deep end and sink like a rock just to get out of this conversation.”

His pretty lips part. He exhales sharply. After a moment, he squares his shoulders and jaw and she almost has to look away because he’s staring straight into her and it makes her squirm.

“I made a mistake, Lilly.”

Lilly gives him one long, wary glance. She turns away, steps inside, and shuts the door.

Shawn bounds up to the door and watches, confused, as she draws back the curtains and lifts the light filtering blinds. A pane of glass sits between them.

“What are you doing?” he calls through to her.

“Social distancing,” she snaps, cocking her head and pursing her lips. He rakes a hand through his hair.

“Please come out,” he requests, dropping a heavy hand to the wooden frame of the door. She jumps a little.

“I don’t need to, I can hear you from in here.”

He goes from warm and sheepish to annoyed quickly. “What, are you scared of me?”

“Yes,” she says immediately, so honestly. He flinches and stares at her.

“You just got off a plane from Miami, you’re probably one big walking coronavirus.”

Shawn wets his lips and lifts a shoulder. “I didn’t come from Miami, I came from Toronto.”

Lilly’s ire is interrupted by her confusion. She knows he was in Miami with her. The paparazzi were at her house the day after they got there. Lilly doesn’t avoid the pictures like the plague anymore. They don’t cause insane, uncontrollable crying jags anymore.

He no longer has that kind of power.

“You went home?” she asks.

“Last week,” he reports with a nod, propping himself up with his hands on either side of her door. She thinks maybe he got taller. It’s unimaginable.

Lilly will not ask. He seems to have come here to tell her, so she’s not sure how much point there is in her not asking but a scraping in her gut tells her to cling to her pride.

He drops his head. His hair looks greasy. He exhales in a huff.

“What, Shawn?” she prods, voice raspy but harsh.

He lifts his head like it’s extra heavy. “I ended it.”

Lilly shuts her eyes. She hates every piece of this feeling, even hates that she can name them all, sort them alphabetically, can imagine putting them in little baskets like she’s been doing since last summer. She thought she was done with that. Why is he doing this?

She drops her forehead to the glass door and then springs off it just as fast, fisting a hand in her hair. It’s too close.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” she hears herself pant, maybe more to herself than him, “Shawn, what the fuck?”

“I don’t know,” he pleads, eyes wide and lost, “I just really needed-- fuck, I wanted… Lilly, I missed you. I just… wanted to see you.”

She presses her hands together in front of her lips like she’s praying for patience. “You… Jesus Christ, you have to see how crazy this is. I… Shawn, it’s been nine months. And… and you left me.”

The wrinkle in his brow deepens. He was expecting that. He cocks his head slightly and looks pained. “I know. I’m… I still wanted to talk to you after. I just didn’t know how.”

Lilly’s eye roll is so epic she feels the tectonic plates beneath them shift. “It’s hard to be friends with the woman whose heart you broke, I guess.”

Again, he looks wounded. He plays it off better now than he did during the actual breakup. Or until her final parting words, at which he did look genuinely hurt. It was her only consolation.

“I’m so sorry. You have no idea--”

“I have no idea how sorry you are?!” she finishes for him, jerking back to life, her voice reaching a dangerous pitch. Shawn squares his jaw to take it.

“You know normal people get to just unfollow, block, whatever, and they can hide from the person that dumped them and their new relationship? There was no hiding from you two. Especially when you made fucking zero effort to be modest at all. Shawn, I could not escape it. So how sorry you are is nothing compared to how sorry I am.”

Shawn’s hands slide off the door. He takes a little step back, but refuses to drop his eyes. Lilly stares, swallows hard, and looks away when it becomes too much.

“I wanted…” he starts, clears his throat, “Wanted to see how you are. If you need anything. I know, I mean, I remembered your mom has that respiratory thing so you can’t go home.”

Somehow hearing it out loud, maybe hearing it from him, puts her over the edge. Two hot, fast tears trickle down her cheeks. Shawn looks startled, then stricken.

“Is she ok?”

Lilly, embarrassed and angry, goes magenta and swipes at her face with sweaterpaws. “She’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t know why I’m-- It’s ok.”

Shawn still looks concerned. He shoves his hands in his front pockets. “And your roommates? Is everyone ok?”

If she had any sense at all, any hope of self-preservation, she’d lie through her teeth. He wouldn’t know the goddamn difference. But he knocked out her ability to reason when he brought up her mom.

“Casey is sick,” she croaks, bringing her palms up over her eyes. She shakes her head, “We don’t-- I mean, she can’t get a fucking test. Mae is staying with us and living with her in her room, taking care of her.”

Shawn looks horrified and half ready to come through the glass at a run. “Lilly, you can’t stay here.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” she snaps.

He searches desperately for an answer in the cool, muggy air around him. It’ll rain again soon. Another thing for Lilly to cry about.

“With me!” he finally spits, his eyes lighting up, “My place in Toronto. You can, I mean, the guest bedroom--”

“Shawn, no,” she grunts, “I’m not doing that. That’s… what? No.”

The idea of holing up with Shawn in his lavish but small two-bedroom condo is the kind of vision that would’ve made her knees weak a year ago. She would’ve killed for this kind of time. Now, she honestly can’t believe she’s hearing him suggest it.

Shawn seems to go back to the mental drawing board. Lilly continues shaking her head and sniffling, ready to reject any idea he comes up with.

“What if we stayed here? Like at a hotel or something?”

“I’m not staying with you at a hotel for several reasons.”

He starts to look a little frustrated, and it’s oddly gratifying. Lilly crosses her arms.

“Ok, a house. I’ll rent a fucking house. Lill, please. I know you hate me. I totally don’t blame you. Please let me do something good for the first time in a fucking year. Please. Let me do this for you.”

Her teeth come together sharply when he uses her nickname. He doesn’t seem to notice.

She shakes her head for what feels like five minutes. “I really don’t know what to do. The fact that I’m even considering this doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

It’s the boost he needed to let the tension in his shoulders drop. He tilts his head and watches her tenderly as she roils inside.

“Are you as scared as I am?”

Lilly blinks and looks up at him. With a deep sigh, she releases the anger she grabbed onto, the anger she’d stowed months ago, the anger she picked back up as soon as she found him on her back porch. It’s not permanently gone. She knows better than to imagine that. It leaves exhaustion in its wake.

“Yeah. I am,” she admits, swallowing harshly. She drops to the tile floor and watches as he slowly, carefully lowers himself to prop against the other side of the glass door.

He looks different. There are new tattoos she knows about -- the stories behind them, she doesn’t. He’s wearing his hair longer on the back and sides. She thinks she likes it that way. He has a pimple, probably from stress, on the right side of his forehead. And he’s staring at her like he knows her inside and out. She shifts uncomfortably against her side of the glass.

“I replay that night over and over again in my head all the time,” he admits, squinting toward where the sun halos the banana trees at the far end of her yard, “I can’t fucking believe I treated you like that.”

Lilly sighs again, heavy-hearted. “Shawn, if this is something you think I need to hear, you should just go because I’ve dealt with it. It’s over. I’m… I’m not mad at you anymore. I don’t want to be. And if you’re here to deal with your guilt then honestly I think that’s selfish.”

Shawn sniffs and nods slowly. “It is selfish. I am selfish. I was selfish then and I’m probably being selfish now but all I want is to make sure you’re safe. I came here to apologize. I don’t know what I wanted out of that, I don’t know what I expected. But now I can’t leave without knowing you’re going to be safe.”

He looks as sincere as she’s ever seen him. It’s like an out-of-body experience. Just an hour ago she would’ve bet serious money on never seeing him in person again.

She shoves her head into her hands between her knees. She groans, “I’ve probably already been exposed to it. I could get you sick.”

“I’ve been on three planes in the last two and a half weeks, I’ve almost definitely been exposed, too. But at least in a big house with space we can really self-quarantine without you dealing with your roommates.”

He’s perked up a little, lifted his head off the door. He knows she’s considering it seriously. He seems afraid to breathe the wrong way and change her mind.

She chews thoughtfully at the inside of her lip and is silent for almost a full minute before she speaks again. “You could just go back to Toronto. You could go home and stay at the condo for a while, then be back with your parents in a week or two. You could just go home, Shawn.”

A piece of her hates him a little for having that option when she doesn’t.

He looks absolutely certain when he nods, wets his lips, and speaks.

“I could. But I don’t want to.”

It’s less than 36 hours later when Shawn texts her the address. It’s tucked up in Mandeville Canyon, gated and quiet, he assures her. He says it like he went out of his way to find them a place out of the public eye and the cynical piece of her says that’s less for her than for him. From what she can tell on social media and gossip sites, no one even knows he left Toronto. For Shawn to get in and out of LAX without the Army knowing about it, she figures he must be serious about keeping a low profile.

She waits two hours before letting him know that she has to pack, pick up groceries and prepare her roommates for the idea that she might be gone a while.

By the time she arrives, thumbing at the keypad with the code Shawn provided to open the driveway gate, it’s almost 9pm. Pavilions was a post-apocalyptic nightmare and made her feel more alone than she’s felt in weeks since the pandemic picked up media steam in the US. She dropped over $200 on whatever stable goods she could get her hands on and enough fresh stuff she hoped to be able to freeze. Exhausted, and a little traumatized, Lilly turns off the car and steps out to look around.

On the outside, the house is surrounded by tall white stucco walls and expertly trimmed hedges. The windows are wide for light but obscured tastefully by tall palms and sun-scorched banana trees. On the inside, beyond the stoic gates, it’s a little wilder, but in a relaxed, thoughtful way. The bases of trees and plants are illuminated by lights, giving the home a warm glow from the outside in, though Shawn seems to have turned on every light in the house. Wrapped in lush greenness, the house is classic prohibition-era LA -- stucco walls, adobe roof, some Mediterranean and Moroccan influences in the rounded archways and mosaic accents. The windows are all framed in hunter green. Lilly likes that.

There’s a balcony wrapped all the way around what looks to be one room on the second floor. Lilly stares up at it thoughtfully until the side door by the kitchen slams shut.

Shawn practically leaps off the tile steps to the stone pathway, his grin bashful as he tries to smooth it down. He jerks a hand through his hair, which looks cleaner than she last saw it. He’s barefoot in gray sweats and an old t-shirt. Lilly’s chest pulses with the sensation to walk right into him for a kiss. It’s a bizarre phantom instinct that she almost has to physically shake off. She tries to smile back, but it’s a grimace.

“Hey. How was it?” he asks.

Shawn stays a perfectly reasonable six feet away, but it feels further. Lilly swallows.

“It was fine. The lines were long.”

Sharing the vulnerability of telling him how grocery shopping in the midst of a global health crisis made her feel seems too much to handle. So she pops her trunk and looks around while he eagerly loads reusable bags into his very capable arms.

“This place is like something out of a Nancy Meyers movie,” she marvels.

Shawn grins again, that kind of smile it’s hard not to smile at.

“You like it?”

Lilly mashes her lips together and nods, forcing the corners of her mouth up. Again, it feels false. She drops it with a sigh.

“Sorry, I’m… really tired.”

Shawn looks at her suspiciously for a moment before his face clears up. He nods and heads for the door.

“I get it. I can show you your room. How much do I owe you for these?”

He gestures to the herculean number of grocery bags in his hands. Lilly reaches for the last few and shrugs, following him inside.

“It’s fine. You rented the house, I can pick up groceries.”

Lilly knows better than to imagine she won this battle so easily. It’s one of Shawn’s great joys in life to pay for stuff. It’s part of the Leo in him. But he seems to sense she’s not in a place to be argued with right now, about anything.

“I brought antibacterial wipes,” Lilly suddenly announces as the center island of the all-white kitchen gets cluttered with boxes and bags and containers and jars.

“Oh,” Shawn says with a grateful nod, clearly confused.

“The store was totally out of them but I brought some from home. And there was no toilet paper, weirdly,” Lilly muses.

“Huh,” Shawn murmurs, loading a bag of bell peppers into the vegetable drawer of the oversized fridge. Lilly watches, drumming her fingers against the white granite countertop. Shawn glances up at her as he sniffs and inspects the cabinets, deciding where to put the canisters of oatmeal.

Lilly shakes her head and backs up against the edge of the sink, crossing her arms. “This is so weird.”

“What?”

“Stocking up for the apocalypse in a mansion with my ex-boyfriend.”

Shawn looks like he wants to protest, but he shifts tactics. “Yeah. I guess it is weird. The whole fucking world is… weird.”

From six feet or a hundred thousand miles away across a countertop, Shawn and Lilly face each other. As for what’s between them, beyond the space, it will remain there for tonight and probably nights to come.

Shawn gives Lilly a truncated version of a house tour on the way to her room. He talks nervously, explaining that he took the master because he thought she’d want this room more, anyway. With each step, suitcase hurtling along noisily behind her over the stone tile, Lilly’s sense of panic grows.

This was a mistake. You’re insane to have considered it. Pathetic, even. Ridiculous. Immature.

Shawn wishes her a good night a few feet from the door. She smiles shallowly. Mercifully, the master bedroom is on the other side of the sprawling house. She waits until his footsteps fade to release her stress tears and gasping, short breaths.

The room is gorgeous. Simple white walls like the rest of the house with clean, neutral furniture, comfortable but stylish, with pops of color and lots of plants. Old California. But the real selling point is the balcony. It wraps around the guest suite and is accessible through wide set French doors.

Lilly sits on the end of the bed and attempts to reason with herself. She squeezes her eyes shut. She’s had an overwhelming couple of days. She needs to sleep. If she’s still miserable in the morning, she can leave, Shawn and his pretty house be damned.

Lilly wakes up fully clothed, half under the covers of the enormous bed. The curtains are still drawn open. The room is so bright it could be noon. In frantic confusion, Lilly flips over her dying phone to check the time. It’s 8am. She slept for almost 12 hours. She’s not entirely surprised.

She cranks herself up to sitting and assesses. The exhaustion-fueled panic that had her half-ready to stride back to her car to take herself home is gone. Her suitcase is where she left it in the middle of the room. Her face is tight and dry from salty tears.

And she can hear him.

She knows it’s not recorded music. She knows it’s him. She even knows which acoustic he’s playing. It’s his favorite. Hers too.

On crackling ankles and knees, she stands and shuffles to one of the balcony doors, pausing with her hand on the knob. She sighs and bites at her dry lips, pressing her forehead against the glass, looking over the balcony into the gardens below.

He’s barefoot again like he almost always is in LA. He used to complain that it’s too cold in Toronto to go barefoot even inside when the heat is on. She used to tell him he imagined it. He’s bobbing his head and strumming slowly like he does when he’s playing through a few chords to decide where he’s going next. He takes big, slow steps away from the house toward a bunch of lavender bushes near the edge of the property. Before he can pivot and turn to head back the other way, Lilly steps back.

She glances at her suitcase. She’ll think about it again after breakfast.

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @randi-eve @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire @itrocksmysocks @parkerspicedlatte @simpledomain @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280 @bensbuttercup @shawnsmusical @paigeasourous @tell-me-when-ur-ready @softmendesss @searchingunderthestars @buggy-blogs @mendesficsxbombay @siennarossi @lostinshawnsmemory @umbreakablesoul @sleepybesson @shawnsheaven

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heirloommtomatoes · 4 years

Text

you’re in a car with a beautiful boy

I’m at least 90% sure this ask was not sent with the intent of receiving a fic as a response but. Here we are. This got way longer and more convoluted than I had intended it to be and I’m jus gonna post it at this point bc i’m losing my mind re-reading it jsksk ! The title is from part 24 of Richard Siken’s poem “You Are Jeff”. Perfect poem for their first kiss, I think! Enjoy reading! :)

Warnings: Two instances of canon-typical homophobic language; canon-typical swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k~

The day Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, red-cheeked, out of breath, and wanting, no — “I need to see you” — needing him, Mickey knows he’s done for.

What comes out is: “I thought you were working today.”

Nice, dumbshit, that’s helpful, he registers the thought somewhere in the back of his mind, but mostly he just can’t stop staring at Ian. His eyes flick over his face, and he doesn’t have time to be shocked by how much he cares.

He’s embarrassed to reveal that yes, he did memorize Ian’s work schedule because he was in fact listening to the guy when he was busy running his mouth at the convenience store. Instinctively, he casts a quick glance over his shoulder. He can’t let Terry see this gay shit, Ian all worked up about some mommy issues and Mickey trying in his own way. To do what exactly, he’s still not completely sure. Comfort him, maybe? He doubts his father would clue in, his head’s too far up his homophobic ass for that, but like hell Mickey’s gonna risk it. Nothing’s gonna touch Ian. Fucking ever, if it’s up to him.

“I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Mickey says a short while later. He closes the door and goes back inside to stand around the dining table where Terry was going over some kind of raid or bust or heist while somehow managing to boss Mandy around every other word.

Mickey can’t focus on anything. He’s going to see Ian in twenty minutes. He’s bubbling with palpable excitement and fear and feelings he has no name for. What if Ian wants to talk about everything? Does he smell bad? What could Mickey say so he doesn’t leave? So Ian doesn’t see what a miserable shit he is? He hates Ian fucking Gallagher for making him care about dumb stuff like this, for making him incapable of hearing a word his Dad is saying to him and his brothers, for making him want to do some astronomically stupid thing like kiss him.

“Mickey, why you over there starin’ like some dumb fuckin’ fag?”

He doesn’t work up the courage for over another year.

Mickey slams the door to his room after running errands with Iggy all morning. It smells stale and one of the posters is curling off the wall in the mid-summer humidity. He’d changed his sheets this morning. The same red ones from the day Ian had burst in here like a maniac demanding the gun back. From then on, the two had been inseparable; no matter how hard their South Side circumstances had tried to pry them apart, every time they came back together like magnets.

Mickey knows he can’t really hide from Ian, and it scares him as much as it excites him. Ian reads him like no one ever has. The guy even had the nerve to smile that adorable smile that makes Mickey’s chest tight when he’d told him he’d rip his tongue out back in juvie. For some reason that Mickey cannot begin to fathom, Ian seems to want to spend time with him. Seems to believe in him.

He had thought himself perfectly fine to live a life half-awake, to spend his days either in prison or in the Milkovich household (one in the same, he thinks - except that juvie doesn’t have Terry), probably die by shivs or bullets or fists, and have his body buried in some unmarked grave all before his 50th birthday. Ian had wedged his place in the timeline of Mickey’s life. There was a before, and an after, and neither of them would ever be the same. Mickey pretends that its not this thought that keeps him up at night.

As soon as he realized that Iggy and Colin and Terry looked at girls and actually wanted them, that it wasn’t just some bizarre social act they all bought into, he knew he was fucked for life. His whole existence feels like some grand joke that everyone is in on but him, and when he lays down at night and stares at his ceiling and thinks about Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, he wonders if maybe he was the butt of it all along.

Ian Gallagher, who knew him and wanted him anyway, who took the time to care about him, who sought him out to spend time with him just because he wanted to. When had their ten minute fucks turned into smoke breaks? When had their smoke breaks turned into —

Mickey’s phone dings in his pocket as he sits on the steps of the Milkovich house, a cigarette dangling idly from his mouth.

Ian

what are ur plans today

He swallows his heart back down as it leaps into his throat, almost dizzying him with excitement. Get a grip, you fuckin’ girl. He’d done all that he needed to do for the day. He’d helped Iggy with some errands in the morning and had planned on laying low, playing Halo 3, and chain-smoking his way through a pack until dinner.

He chews on his lip as he considers what to say. He texts back:

Mickey

don’t have any

He wants to say “why, what’s up?”, he wants to say “let’s go to the dugouts”, he wants to say “let’s do something”, “let’s hang out”, “i want to see you”, “i want you”. But he’s not allowed to want things. Certainly not…this. Whatever this is. He receives a response almost immediately and can’t help but crack a fond smile. Someone’s eager.

Ian

come with me to that abandoned building near the L

you know the spot

That’s how Mickey finds himself sitting atop a wooden platform, watching Ian run military drills below at 1 in the afternoon on a Sunday.

He fires his gun into the sky while resolutely pretending not to be checking out the younger boy below.

“Hey,” Ian says, breathing heavily and squinting against the sun and Mickey finds himself realizing he is made of things he cannot ever have, “You know that guy you beat the shit out of at that club?”

Of course Mickey remembers. His stomach flops at the mention of him.

“He wants me to sneak into his mansion and take all of his crap.”

“Really,” Mickey responds dryly, firing off another shot. He doesn’t want Ian to keep talking about him, “Hi-larious.”

“Can’t get it himself,” Ian continues, as if Mickey cares. And the worst part is that he thinks maybe he does — he cares about everything this alien-looking ginger has to say and he hates it and he can never, ever get enough of it, of him, of Ian, “Divorce. Says I can take whatever I want. He’s loaded. You want in?”

Mickey fires shots at the ground by Ian’s head where he’s crawling under some boards. He’s remembering seeing them at that bar in Boystown, out in the heat and in the sun and in public, cracking jokes and living a life Mickey can only watch from behind glass, from behind bars. Fuck that old guy for getting handed on a silver platter what Mickey so desperately craves but cannot have. Not just Ian — freedom. Though Mickey thinks they’re one in the same these days.

“Jesus! Use blanks, maybe?! Fuck.” Ian shouts up at him, dragging himself up off the ground.

“Bring my cousins?” Mickey asks, refusing to look at him. Every time he does he sees them together and wishes that it had been him, sun-drunk and laughing and free by his side.

“Yeah,” Ian shrugs.

“‘Aight, I’m in,” Mickey fires off another shot. He’s angry at Ian for nothing other than exercising his complete right to see other people since they weren’t really together anyway, he’s angry at that old ass man for being able to go out for drinks with him, touch him, kiss him, and most of all he’s angry at himself.

He feels broken for wanting him. He feels broken for not being able to be brave enough to admit that he wants him. He gets cut on his own self-hatred any direction he turns.

“I dunno what you see in that geriatric viagroid,” he says, forcing himself to meet Ian’s gaze, if for a brief moment.

“He buys me stuff, orders me room service,” Ian says nonchalantly, looking up at Mickey. It’s obvious how much he’s been working out. His shoulders are hard and defined, his chest chiseled through the dark green of his military shirt. Mickey feels the familiar sting of contempt rising in his throat and fires off two more shots.

He can’t buy him anything, let alone room service. The fuck kind of response is that? More than anything, it annoys Mickey because he knows it isn’t really true. He’s bullshitting him, and that gets to him more than Ted or Ned or Fred or whatever the hell is name is ever could. He knows he’s not that superficial. Sure, he doesn’t doubt those are nice bonuses, but he knows there’s more to it than that.

He knows Ian. He knows Ian and he wishes that didn’t have to mean he loves him, but it does. He doesn’t understand how anyone could know Ian and not love him. But he’s not quite ready to admit that yet, least of all to himself.

“He isn’t afraid to kiss me,” Ian adds.

Ah. There it is.

His world has become a breathing thing with Ian in it. Before it was stagnant, stale, drowning. It has become a beast with teeth that threatens to tear him from the careful scaffolding he has built around the most fragile parts of his life.

If he kisses him, then everything he fears he is will be true.

Some dumb fuckin’ fag.

So Mickey brings his cousins later that evening and doesn’t stop thinking about Ian’s comment for the rest of the day. The van ride is full of loud music and rolled down windows that let in the warm, fresh summer air, and Iggy and Colin are endlessly bickering and hitting each other in the back of the car.

“Can you assholes quiet down when we get closer? You’re gonna wake up the old lady and everyone else in the goddamn neighbourhood before we even roll in the fuckin’ driveway,” Mickey says, swatting at them from where he’s sitting in the passenger seat. Ian glances his way with an amused smile that Mickey only just catches when he settles back. He grins in return around the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Oh hey, pass one?” Ian asks, holding out his hand. Mickey’s about to give him one before a car speeds around a corner and almost T-bones the side of the van. Ian’s hand snaps back to the wheel to swerve out of the way, and Mickey drops the cigarette to the floor of the van in all the commotion.

“Asshole, watch it!” Ian exclaims as he uselessly flips off the car that’s now long gone down the road. Mickey lets out a guffaw of a laugh and abandons handing him the lost cigarette in favour of placing his own half-smoked one right between Ian’s lips.

The intimacy of the action doesn’t strike him until he’s nudging the cigarette against his mouth and his eyes are tracing the outline of his lips and he can feel the warmth of his breath against his tattooed knuckles. The raw familiarity of the action and the fact that Mickey’s own lips had just been on the cigarette that’s now resting on the edge of Ian’s mouth has his heart racing so quickly he can feel it in his chest like a ton of bricks. Ian casts him a side-glance out of the corner of his eye as he parts his lips to accept it. Mickey takes his hand away and clears his throat, glancing at the rear-view mirror to an oblivious Colin and Iggy.

“Thanks,” Ian mumbles, remembering himself as he snaps out of whatever it had been that passed between them just now.

Mickey wants to kiss him. He really, really wants to kiss him. He’d tried fucking girls and had been less turned on than he was just now doing nothing other than placing his cigarette in Ian’s mouth.

Ian pulls into the drive minutes later, cigarette since burned through and discarded out the window. Mickey tries not to feel the absence of it as though it were his own lips against his and not just the ghost of them stained onto the cigarette.

Colin drags open the side door and hops out with Iggy, zipping open a duffel bag full of guns. Mickey’s grateful for the distraction, for the absolute focus violence requires that he hopes will shove his desire to do something as stupid as kiss Ian out of his head.

“Hey! Whoa, guys, guys! No fucking guns, alright? It’s just a drunk old lady in there,” Ian says, brow furrowed as he looks at Mickey.

Trust Gallagher to be the defender of drunk old ladies. Mickey bites at his lip, trying and failing to ignore the way his chest swells with adoration at Ian’s request. Soft motherfucker. He’s right, though — any unnecessary violence and this could be a way bigger deal than it needs to be. Plus, he’d rather not piss off his only and best friend. He grabs the guns back from his cousins, much to their disappointment, and makes off toward the house.

He hadn’t woken up this morning thinking that today would be the day he’d kiss Ian. Hell, even now he’s sure that if he thinks about it any more he’ll chicken out and never kiss him at all. Mickey Milkovich, with the F-U-C-K U-U-P knuckles, who wears dirt and a scowl like they’re permanent accessories, is going to kiss Ian Gallagher, the freckled boy who protects drunk old ladies and smiles at him like he hangs the damn stars. He figures he was about to storm into an old lady’s house brandishing firearms without second thought or fright. Is kissing someone really that much more terrifying?

Abso-fuckin-lutely.

But there’s nothing between them but the van and Mickey’s fear. And fuck the fear. Fuck it.

He can pretend that he kisses him for no other reason than to prove a point, than to fulfill some implied dare.

At the end of the day, he kisses him because he wants to.

He kisses him because he likes him.

He kisses him because he loves him.

Mickey’s heart is racing so badly he feels that he might throw up and well, what an impression that would leave. Every part of him is shaking as he turns and takes one step, two steps, pulls himself into the van and…

His lips are against Ian’s. They’re so much softer than he’d imagined (and he had imagined, often) and warm and Mickey can feel the breath from his nose against his own face. He tastes like smoke and freedom and something sweet Mickey can’t place -- a fucking Snickers bar? -- but loves the taste of anyway.

His brain short-circuits. He lingers longer than he had intended to, but it’s real and it’s better than he ever thought it could be. He’d kissed Sarah Perkins on a dare back in 7th grade and he’d gargled vodka afterwards to wash his mouth out.

He’d thought himself broken for it just not feeling right. But this…this feels right. Ian makes him feel right. He had expected, hoped even maybe, that it would feel wrong. That he would kiss him and feel as though he had done something terrible, something worse than stealing from an old lady’s home, but if it does he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

On his tongue, in his touch, with his laugh, Ian has given him the vocabulary to understand himself. To put a name to feelings mostly only understood in the illuminating glory of hindsight.

He’s spent his whole life outside of himself. Is this what it is to know yourself? Is this what it is for everything to suddenly make sense? He isn’t allowed soft things. He isn’t allowed this.

But here he is anyway.

And the world spins on.

He wants to kiss him again and again and again but he remembers his cousins in the house and what he suspects was probably less than five seconds feels like an eternity and Ian’s lips are starting to respond and move and is that his hand starting to lift to touch him? oh shit what if they come back to get him and this is what they walk in on and --

He pulls back and retreats as quickly as he’d arrived, throwing up a middle finger at Ian. Afraid to kiss him, Mickey’s ass.

Fuck he thinks as he runs back to the house, and can’t think much else but fuckfuckfuck, every inch of him charged and shaking and electric.

“Forgot somethin’,” he says breathlessly to the two boys who are, as it turns out, barely paying him any mind as they bicker between themselves about how they’re going to manage picking up a cabinet heavier than the two of them combined. Mickey’s not listening to them as they end up dropping it to split up and tackle smaller bait.

He grins wickedly to himself. He did it. Mickey goddamn Milkovich made a choice that wasn’t about pain or hurt or violence. He’d made a choice that was his and his alone and it was soft. Mickey Milkovich could choose to be soft, and gentle, and maybe even caring.

And if he can kiss Ian Gallagher? He can do anything.

#reposting this in a better format i think #gallavich #gallavich fic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #why is read more not working brruhhh this is so long im sorry #IS it working??? idk #if it isnt #sorry!!!!#my bOYS~!!!!#my writing

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

Measured in Moments--Calum Hood (Part II of The Click)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

It’s taken me four days but I’ve finally finished part II! I didn’t plan on doing more than one part, but I enjoy this dynamic and there will probably be a few more parts following. Read The Click here and any feedback is welcome!

Word count: 7.3 k

Warnings: casual drinking, smut (female receiving oral, fingering, unprotected sex), fluff, sweetness

Song inspiration: Moonlight Serenade by Frank Sinatra and When Loving You by ASL

Author’s Note: The poem by Michael Faudet mentioned is “A Slow Pirouette” from his book ‘Cult of Two’ and is written in italics. The poem near the bottom is my own that I wrote and is titled roses&rainwater :)

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

Calum has been planning his and Rose’s first date since after he left her apartment a week ago. They stayed up talking until about 1 o’clock and they would have probably talked for longer if her eyes didn’t get so heavy. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek as he left and when he got home, he couldn’t fall asleep because all he could think about was Rose.

The next morning, he met her at the front counter of the CBS where he made a plan to pay for her drink and muffin, but she insisted it’s her treat. She does get a discount after all being an employee. Teresa smiled at them the whole time and gave an inconspicuous wink to Rose as she handed off the drinks.

“Then let me take you out to dinner,” Calum had insisted while they walked to campus.

“Coffee for dinner isn’t a fair trade,” she giggled, and Calum was distracted by the sound for a moment. “But I’d love to get dinner with you, Calum.”

Rose had no idea where he’s taking her, but he told her to wear something a little on the dressier side. So, she chose a simple black dress with comfortable black heels and made sure her hair was perfect. Her nerves were building and pixelating in her entire body, so to try and calm down, she turned on her music and read through her poetry book.

Aside from being her favorite, it’s a comfort object. Would it be weird if she brought it on the date with her? She glances at the clock above her sink, the second hand revolves around the face evenly; the opposite of her heart.

Why should she be nervous? They already stayed up talking until 1 a.m. the first night they met and talk throughout the whole day every day. And they are soulmates after all, but Rose has never had an experience like this with anyone before. Her friends made it look so easy.

Is Calum as nervous as she is?

On the other side of town, Calum is sprinting through his house making sure he has all the essentials. Keys, wallet, phone, credit cards, cash. Throughout his mental checklist, his eyes scan over his poetry book that’s lying on his counter. Rose’s perfume still hangs between the pages so whenever he opens it for a read, it’s like she’s with him.

When it’s finally time to leave to pick her up, he notices the slight shake in his fingers as he grabs onto the steering wheel. He takes multiple shaky breaths trying to calm himself down, but his fingers are still shaky.

He selects his favorite playlist making sure it’s loud enough so he can’t hear the speed of his racing heart. As he arrives at the CBS and her apartment, his phone vibrates three times. When he looks at the notifications on his lock screen, they’re all from the guys wishing him luck and to relax. It eases him a little, but his palms are a little sweaty as he walks inside the coffeeshop.

Teresa smiles at him in greeting as he passes, telling him to head on up to Rose. He nods in thanks then finds himself taking the steps two at a time. Just before he can knock on the door, it opens revealing Rose and he’s left even more breathless than when he arrived.

His eyes drink her in just as she does him, and soon enough they’re chuckling nervously because they’ve coincidentally dressed the same. He’s also in an all-black ensemble.

“You look beautiful,” he takes her hand in his lifting it to his lips. His brown eyes look up at her as he kisses the back of her hand, a smile spreading.

“Thank you. You look pretty incredible,” she smiles and steps closer so she can close the door behind her. He watches her with an intensity she’s never seen before and it gives her butterflies.

They hold hands while they descend the stairs and all the way to his car until he helps her climb in the SUV then shuts the door for her. The static hanging in the car is felt by them both but it’s a good form of electricity. They’re both hyper aware of the others’ emotions.

He finds a decent parking spot after the twenty-minute drive to the restaurant; it was a silent ride but wonderfully comfortable as they sat listening to his music. Calum grabs her hand for the short walk inside and opens the door for her.

“Reservation for Hood,” he tells the hostess.

Rose is peering at the restaurant while the hostess eyes up her tablet. It’s a large space with white cloths on the tables and soft lighting from the golden sconces along the maroon walls. It’s a very cozy atmosphere but Rose can tell how classy it is.

“I’m sorry, it looks like your reservation was for seven o’clock . . . an hour ago,” the hostess says apologetically.

Her tone brings Rose back to the moment at hand and Calum’s brows are furrowed in confusion.

“No, I’m pretty sure I made it for eight o’clock,” he tries to dissuade with the hostess. “Can you check again?” he rests his hand that’s not holding Rose’s on the ledge of the hostess stand, leaning forward.

Rose glances between Calum and the hostess, she can feel the awkwardness of the situation easily, just as she can feel Calum’s anxiety rise a bit higher.

“I’m sorry Mr. Hood, but the reservation shows for seven o’clock.”

“All right,” he sighs heavily, his knuckles squeeze the wood. “How long for a table?”

“Um, reservations at La Perle needs a few days’ notice,” the hostess answers awkwardly, “I can hold a table for you in three days’ time.”

“Three days?”

“That’s all right, we’ll call again. Thank you,” Rose intercedes sensing his uneasiness. She pulls Calum with her back through the front door. Calum throws a disdainful look at the hostess over his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn I made the reservation for eight--”

“It’s all right,” she smiles reassuringly and squeezes his hands. She glances across the street and spots a restaurant with a neon blue sign that’s flashing ‘OPEN’. “Let’s head over there, it doesn’t look like they take reservations.”

He turns at the spot she’s pointing to and his shoulders sink at the thought of leaving the premise of the five-star restaurant to hop across the street at what looks like a modernized mom and pop restaurant.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she smiles and tugs on his hands walking to the corner of the sidewalk.

When the light signals for them to walk he has no choice but to half jog with her across the street. Her excitement is palpable and wearing down his own anxiety and embarrassment. She pulls open the door and it’s much louder than La Perle across the street with some little kids running past them to a table where birthday balloons are situated at.

“Hello! Just the two of you?” the hostess asks cheerily from their left.

“Um, yes,” Rose smiles holding up her two fingers.

“Booth or table?”

“Booth please.”

“Follow me.”

Rose tugs on Calum again leading him through the tables that are filled with people. Laughter and loud conversation fill their ears until they’re placed in front of a booth against the far-right wall. Eclectic pictures and decorations scatter the cobbled walls.

“Your server, Tracy, will be right with you. Enjoy!”

When Calum averts his eyes from the walls to investigate Rose’s observations, she’s absolutely beaming at him. She looks beautiful under the dim lighting and while the noise is all around them, she quiets it for him. He still feels awful for mixing up the times for dinner and wants her to know he’ll make it up to her.

“I’m so sorry about the reservation—”

“Calum, stop,” she takes his fingers in hers across the table. Her thumb rubs over the initials inked on his skin. “I promise this is okay. We can pretend we’re back in high school going to a dance and this is our dinner spot beforehand.”

He can’t help but smile at her temporary fix to the poorly timed situation on his part.

“Funny you mention dance because after dinner there’s a concert in the park that I want to take you to.”

“What kind of concert?” her eyes dance at the thought.

“A jazz one,” he grins just as their waitress, Tracy, skips to their table.

*****

After dinner, they arrive at the park where a small stage is set up in the middle of the grass. Other couples are seated on blankets or chairs and orbed lights are hung up above the audience that’s also connected to the stage.

Calum tosses the blanket he brought up in the air letting it billow down onto the grass. They sit comfortably together with his legs spread in front of him while hers are tucked underneath her just as the concert starts. Moonlight Serenade by Frank Sinatra begins with the soft trills of flutes and violins before the gentleman in the center begins to sing.

Rose sighs happily while she watches the players play but Calum is watching her. He’s transfixed by her and how she’s reacting to the song. She sways slightly in her spot on the blanket and even hears her humming along quietly.

He studies her face as if she’s a work of art, her eyelashes cast soft shadows on the roundness of her cheeks that are still slightly blushed, and her lips are the perfect shape. He’s still staring at her when the song ends, and a torrential downpour falls on everyone in attendance.

When she squeals his name, he springs into action quickly gathering the blanket and they run back to his car. He scrambles for his keys that are buried in his jacket pocket, when it’s finally unlocked, Rose jumps in while he balls the blanket into the backseat and darts to the drivers’ side.

The rain hits the car hard, falling in rivers down the windshield and their windows and they’re both laughing.

“I can’t believe this happened,” he wheezes trying to catch his breath as he turns the car on. He makes sure the heat is on full blast, so she isn’t too cold.

“Shortest concert I’ve been to,” she giggles. “We can still listen to jazz back at my place if you want.”

How could Calum say no to that? He can’t.

Thankfully, they aren’t too wet from the rain so they’re pretty much dry by the time they’re walking up the stairs to her apartment. Rose hands him a towel to dry his hair while she rubs off the leftover dampness on her arms from the raindrops.

“How’s my make-up?” she asks.

Calum blinks a few times when he pulls the towel from his hair, he smiles at the small smudges under her eyes. She looks like an adorable raccoon.

“Not bad, but c’mere,” he grins motioning her closer with his two fingers. She steps forward and he dabs the corner of the towel gently underneath her eyes to remove the excess mascara.

“Good?” she asks when he lowers the towel.

“Perfect,” he smiles then drapes the towel over one of her stools by the kitchen counter. “I think you promised me some jazz music, Rosie.”

She giggles at the nickname then pulls her phone out as she walks to her speaker. She turns it on, presses play, then her apartment echoes saxophones and trumpets. The baritone of the singers’ voice carries over to them and Calum pulls Rose into his arms.

His hand holds onto her lower back while the other is firm in her hand. Her left hand rests gently on his shoulder and he begins to dance to the beat of the song. Aside from being part of the rhythmic section of the band, he’s also been known to be the best dancer. Years of football, or soccer, has perfected his footwork.

“How are you so good at dancing? Did you take lessons?” Rose asks when he does a little quick step and it makes her giggle.

“Something like that,” he chuckles. “I played soccer for a long time while I was growing up.”

“Really? Did they call you ‘fancy feet?’”

“No, but they should have,” he chuckles then turns serious. “I really am sorry about tonight. Everything got ruined.”

“It wasn’t ruined,” she shakes her head.

“Our first date was supposed to be perfect,” he huffs in disappointment, staring out the window above her bed. It looks like a piece of art with the water running down and blending the colors of the streetlights together.

Rose scratches the hairs at the nape of his neck, it forces him to tilt his head down at her. “It was perfect, Calum, I was with you.”

The static electricity is back, and it only intensifies when they press their lips together. The smell of roses is more potent from the rain and she tastes of rainwater. It’s his new favorite thing paired with dancing with her while they kiss tenderly in her living room. The song changes to Moonlight Serenade and he smiles against her mouth.

“This is our song now,” he mumbles, swiping his tongue over her lower lip. He loves the sweet, sweet taste of her kiss.

Rose pulls him even closer, chest to chest with her fingers interlocked behind his neck. He moves his hands around her waist so he’s holding onto her tightly. Their foreheads bump together, and they share the same breath as they continue to sway on the spot.

“You’re my love song,” she whispers and kisses him once more.

*****

Calum and Rose have been on many dates since then, most of them are study dates but if they’re together that’s all that matters. They see each other every morning for breakfast and their walk to campus. It fills Rose with joy because she never had a high school sweetheart, but this is exactly how she pictured it would be.

She’s over at his house and they’re both studying for a test that counts for 25% of their grade. She’s been brewing coffee hourly while she pores over her books and notes. Calum gets distracted by her much too easily, especially when she whispers the phrases out loud.

He finds himself glancing up from his own notes, most of them are small phrases written about her anyway, to admire her. He’s read about soulmates and what it will feel like but experiencing it is vastly different than what the books say. Calum constantly has this growing need to be beside her, even if the task at hand is ‘boring’, he knows it won’t be because she makes it fun.

While it is as easy as breathing, being with her, he finds his breath is lost when they are together. When she’s working a shift downstairs, Calum sits at a table doing his homework or writing, she’ll walk by him purposefully to stroke her finger over the back of his hand.

He’d glance up at her just to see her smile wryly, as if it’s a secret that she’s touching him and watches her continue her way. She always turns back around to give him her true Rose smile; the whole ordeal leaves him excited and filled with butterflies.

Butterflies that he would love to catch and keep in a jar so that he could give them to her, but he’d need to find a jar big enough to contain them all.

“Calum, you need to be studying,” she tells him sternly without glancing up from her textbook.

He continues to watch her highlight before she shifts her gaze from the words in her book to him.

“I am studying,” he grins, his brown eyes moving over her. She blushes and shifts in her chair.

“I’m not testing you,” she murmurs.

“You are more than you know, sweetheart,” he hums under his breath and resumes to his own book.

As the night ticks on, Rose begins to yawn more and more.

“I think it’s time for you to go home, sweetheart,” he says closing his books up.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she yawns twice more, covering her mouth with her hand.

Calum stands up, presses a kiss to her forehead and lets Duke outside. When he returns, she’s passed out across her books, her arm is used as a pillow. He beams at the sight then pulls out his phone to take a photo before scooping her up in his arms.

“I got the coffee,” she sighs tiredly, lifting her head up from his shoulder.

“You’re cut off, Rosie,” he chuckles and continues down the hallway to his room.

“Am I home? How’d I get home?”

“We’re still at my place, you can spend the night.”

“I don’t want to . . . be . . . bother,” she says through a long yawn. “I’ll drive home.”

“You don’t have a car,” he chortles setting her on the edge of his bed. “I wouldn’t let you drive even if you did. You don’t even have your eyes open.”

“Yeah I do,” she sighs while he grabs some old shorts and a t-shirt for her from his closet.

“Really?” he leans down in front of her, clothes in hand.

“Mhm.”

“Then what am I doing right now?”

“Smiling. You’re always smiling.”

“Because you always make me smile.”

“Aha! I was right,” she tries to focus on him through her heavy lids. He laughs at her cuteness and attempt to prove that she’s awake.

“I have clothes here for you to sleep in. I’m going to get Duke and some water bottles, okay?” he kisses her forehead. She sways from the touch.

With Duke and two bottles in his arms, he finds Rose curled against his pillow and he’s floored at how natural it is to see her in his bed, in his clothes, in his life. He sets Duke on the bottom of the bed and changes into his own sleepwear in his closet then joins Rose.

She cuddles into him immediately, sighing quietly. He counts the seconds in between her breaths and he’s fast asleep in moments.

The next morning, he makes her coffee and pancakes and syrup filled kisses are exchanged throughout the whole meal. Their first sleepover wasn’t planned, but it was a success nonetheless and opened the door for many nights of staying over.

****

It’s the start of their holiday break, exams and last-minute papers are finally over and done with. To celebrate, Calum is making Rose a pasta dish at her apartment while she drinks the second dirty Shirley that he made her.

She’s sat on one of the barstools, cheek in hand, admiring the way his shoulders flex and roll while he chops up some greens to put in the sauce. Her eyes move with the motion of his arm as he grabs his own beer, then her eyes watch his lips touch the lip of the bottle.

How is she enchanted by the simplest tasks he does?

“You’re drooling,” he interrupts her thoughts.

Rose sits up straight, instinctively wiping her mouth then glares at him.

“I am not,” she pouts then takes a hearty sip of her cocktail. The sweet cherry juice and bite of the vodka and sprite tickles her taste buds as Calum laughs. He scrapes the greens into the pot with the knife then moves in front of her across the counter.

He leans on his forearms, beer bottle in between his hands, while he stares at her with those brown eyes that make her even weaker now that she’s been drinking. He bites down on his lower lip as he reaches his hand up, his thumb swipes on her bottom lip.

“You are drooling, Rosie. I don’t blame you, I’m a hot chef,” he smiles, eyes twinkling.

“Can I kiss the chef, or do I have to wait until after dinner?”

“Mmm,” he pretends to think it over while inching closer to her across the countertop. She moves with him, his hand cups her cheek and their noses bump together. “I’ll allow it.”

When their lips touch, she can’t help but sigh at the softness and his tongue is quick to slip into her mouth so he can taste more of the cherries from her drink. Rose cards her fingers in his thick hair, nails rubbing at his scalp while his thumb caresses her cheek.

Her oven lets out a loud beep, breaking their kiss to announce that it’s heated for the garlic bread. Calum and Rose are heated as well, she gives him three more quick kisses before he resumes his culinary duties and she resumes her admiration.

“So, there’s a party tomorrow night and the guys are going to be there,” he says while they’re eating at the counter. Rose has her legs across his knees, his hand rests comfortably on top of them while he eats.

“I sense an ‘and’ coming,” she smiles twirling her fork in the noodles.

“And I was wondering if you’d want to come and meet them,” he finishes.

Rose lowers her noodle filled fork to look his way, he has a soft smile and hope in his eyes.

“Really? You want me to meet them?” she asks, excitedly leaning closer to him.

“Yeah. I talk about you all the time and if I don’t bring you with me tomorrow then they might literally kill me.”

“I can’t have that,” she shakes her head and laughs. “I’d love to meet them.”

****

Calum can tell Rose is nervous in the way she keeps chewing on her lower lip. She’s bouncing around her apartment gathering her things and Calum watches her fondly until she stops at her dresser to slide on some bracelets. He uses that as an opportunity to stand behind her, she jumps when she turns around and sees him right there.

“Hey, you’ll chew your lip right off and what will I kiss, then, hm?” he asks massaging her lip carefully with his thumb.

“What if they think I’m weird?” she’s pouting now, eyes full of worry.

“They like weird,” he grins then takes her hand to kiss her fingers. “It’s going to be fine. You’re my girl and they’re going to love you.”

When they arrive at the party hand in hand (Rose has a death grip on him) he weaves her through the other people in attendance. He spots the boys near the back of the bar where the couches are, and he points. He feels her suck in a breath and he kisses her temple.

“Cal!” they all shout as the couple gets closer.

The three Australian men stand from their seats giving him hugs and handshakes while Rose cowers behind his back. She’s finding comfort in the coolness of Calum’s leather jacket until he pulls her forward, hand still firm in hers.

“Guys, this is Rose,” Calum introduces, his smile proud as he gazes at her. “Rosie, these are the guys, Michael, Luke and Ashton.”

The use of her nickname calms her down a little and then all three of his best friends give her warm hugs, too. She says a quiet hello back as they all settle down onto the couch again. Calum orders their drinks and she’s hoping the alcohol will give her a confidence boost.

Rose finds herself liking Calum’s three best friends the more they talk and joke with Calum. She even notices that all their accents get a little more pronounced the more they talk with each other and share stories. She laughs the loudest when Calum and Ashton join in a banter together.

She chimes in when she can, but otherwise she just loves watching Calum interact with them. It’s a side of him she’s never seen until now, but she loves it. She can see how much he loves them.

“So, Rose,” Ashton starts, a pompous yet teasing tone to his voice, “is it true that Calum messed up your first date?”

“I’m gonna kill you mate,” Calum threatens and Rose giggles, squeezing his arm.

“He didn’t mess it up. It went a little off course but how we met was like that, too. He did steal my book and all,” she teases and pinches his cheek.

“You stole mine, too,” he chuckles leaning into her, his eyes darting between her lips and eyes. “Amongst other things you stole.”

Rose’s stomach flips and all she can do in response is smile. He kisses her quickly just as a woman’s voice breaks apart their moment.

“Sorry I’m late guys, work was killer. Oh! Is this Rose? Cal, she’s gorgeous! Hi, I’m Ruby.”

Rose takes Ruby’s outstretched hand, a little taken aback at her energy but appreciative at the same time for it. Ruby is Ashton’s soulmate and Rose can see exactly how perfect they are for each other.

“Rose. Nice to meet you,” Rose smiles kindly.

“Hey Rube,” Calum grins.

“I’m stealing your girl so I can get to know her better. We’ll be back, boys,” Ruby announces pulling Rose off the couch. She blows a kiss to Ashton who is used to her antics by now.

“Be nice!” Calum calls watching them head to the bar.

“I’m always nice!” Ruby shouts back then gives Rose a warm smile. “I’m so happy we finally get to meet. I remember Calum talking about you before you even met the first time, he was so in love with your poetry book.”

“It’s not my own poetry book, but I wrote in it sometimes,” Rose shrugs.

“It’s yours,” Ruby nods affirmatively then flags down the bartender. “Two lemon shots please, you like those right?”

“Yeah, I love them,” Rose smiles.

After the girls took their shots, Rose is feeling even more comfortable with Calum’s friends. Soon enough, she’s cracking jokes and singing along to the music that’s playing. Calum is elated that his best friend soulmates and his true love soulmate are getting along so well. He doesn’t even try to be inconspicuous as he kisses her in front of all these people, especially his friends.

*****

The rain pours consistently against her building, it sounds like large handfuls of rice hitting the glass of her windows. It’s a calming sound that almost mimics the ocean waves while she and Calum are atop her bed reading their poetry books. It’s a quiet night in and while she’s getting lost in the words on her page, a loud crack of thunder erupts outside causing Rose to jump and drop her book.

“It’s just thunder baby,” Calum grins at her and she glares at him.

“I hate thunderstorms.”

“Let me read to you, c’mere,” he shifts on her bed and she scoots closer to him.

From shoulder to feet, they’re touching, and she listens aptly to the low rasp of his voice. Through the rain it sounds even more sultry than normal and makes goosebumps form on her skin. While he reads Michael Faudet’s poem, she takes his hand in hers.

‘You took my hand in yours.’

While he reads of the author commentating on his lover’s actions, Rose follows along perfectly.

‘Guiding my fingers beneath the hem of your panties.’

Calum swallows harshly as she drags his hand beneath the hem of her cotton shorts, leading his fingers between her legs. When he touches her, they both stop. They both turn their heads and stare into each other’s eyes.

“Keep going,” she blinks at him innocently while her fingers are making his do the opposite of innocent.

Calum turns back to the page.

“’Showing me exactly how you want to be touched— ‘” she makes his fingers circle around her clit and his breath catches. “’—like a ballerina in the spotlight doing a slow pirouette.’”

He tosses the book away as soon as he finishes the last word of the poem, his mouth on hers while his fingers dance between her legs. Thunder rumbles and Rose squeaks when he teases his finger inside her opening.

He shifts his weight removing his hand so she’s in between his thighs. When he deepens the kiss by slipping his tongue in her mouth, Rose moves her hands over his shoulders and down to his waist. She places her hands under his shirt to glide over the soft, warm skin of his back. Her actions make his shirt ride up.

“What’re you tryin’ to do?” he teases playfully, teeth pulling on her lower lip.

“Take this off,” she huffs, and he pulls back to look in her eyes. She tugs on his shirt again.

Calum leans back on his knees and she follows him into a sitting position as if an invisible string has them connected. Rose watches him tug his shirt off. The movement tousles his hair slightly; he licks his lips moving forward but Rose stops him with her hand on his chest.

“What--?”

“Shh,” she hushes. Her eyes drink him in; his dark tattoos and smooth skin over his tight muscles that she can’t help but run her hands over.

Calum watches her with growing lust. He’s getting drunk off the way she’s looking at him and the way her hands feel that are now on his waist.

“How are you real?” she whispers, eyes looking up at him and he smiles.

His eyes lower to her lips before darting back to her eyes. “I was just thinking the same thing. Want to join me in the no shirt party?” but his fingers are already working on the buttons of her pajama shirt. She helps him by undoing the last buttons on the bottom, then pulls her arms out of the sleeves. Calum tosses the fabric to the end of the bed.

His eyes devour her, and it makes Rose’s belly burn insatiably until his mouth is on her neck, suckling and kissing the skin. His hand cups her left breast right away, his thumb stroking over her nipple before he removes his lips from her neck so he can suckle on the other breast. She sighs in his ear as his tongue flicks the hardened bud.

“Mm,” she moans quietly, and she falls back against her pillows, his mouth still attached to her breast as he falls with her.

He shifts his head over to the other one now, his thumb now brushing the underside as his mouth sucks on this breast. She’s plump and perfect in his hand and mouth. He releases her breast with a pop before kissing the space between her breasts and back up to her lips.

“Was that okay?” he asks around her mouth, the chain of his necklace knocks against her collarbone. The contrast of his warm mouth and cool bite of the chain electrifies her.

“Mhm, felt good,” she smiles scratching her nails down his sideburns.

They continue kissing, his hand travels down her waist and over her hip so he can pull her leg up over his waist, he wants her as close as possible. When he places his lips on her neck again, she huffs into his hair while he makes a mark. He’s surprised that she’s leading his hand in between her legs again.

Calum’s hesitant at first, not wanting to cross any lines, so he keeps his hand there while he kisses on her neck. It isn’t until she starts rubbing herself with his hand that he begins to circle his fingers over her core.

“Can I?” he asks trailing his fingers back under her cotton shorts and the waistline of her panties.

“Mmm, yes,” she exhales, and it makes him shiver.

His fingers slide between her folds until he finds her clit. Her body jolts at his touch and he grins against her neck feeling how wet she is. He rubs slow circles against her clit and Rose gyrates her hips with his motions, her breath becoming more ragged.

He wants to see her face, so he lifts his head up to gaze at her and she’s so beautiful. She’s biting her lip even as it trembles, her thighs trembling as well with his motions.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he sighs and teases her hole with the tip of his finger just like before. Rose releases her lip from her teeth with a gasp, her body exhales. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes, yes,” she practically whines, eyes clenched shut and Calum teases her again, adding a bit more of his finger this time.

“D’you want more?”

Her fingers are in his hair now as she nods, forcing her eyes open to look at him. “Please, Cal, I want more.”

He inserts his finger slowly, feeling how snug she is and pumps his finger halfway a few times to gather her arousal. Once his finger is nice and slick, he pushes in all the way and she’s gasping, pulling on his hair. He rests his forehead onto hers, watching her mouth open and close soundlessly as he rotates his finger inside of her.

She’s warm and soft, and he can only imagine what she’d feel like around his dick.

He slips his other finger in as well and she cries out his name. Rose is rocking her hips against his hand as he slides and scissors his fingers in and out at the perfect speed, curling and swirling them each time.

“Ooh, I’m almost . . . don’t stop, please,” she begs breathlessly, and Calum obeys.

He feels her about to cum, the satisfying squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out of her is increasing as her orgasm approaches.

“So warm, baby,” he breathes, and he feels her clench around his fingers. “So pretty when you moan for me, am I making you feel good? Yeah? You almost there, for me? C’mon, I can feel you. . ..”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she chants and holds him tightly against her chest as she comes.

He feels her body go rigid in pleasure, short gasps burst from her lips and he watches her come undone hungrily. When her body relaxes and her legs fall away, he stops his movements and removes his fingers slowly. He examines them in the lowlight, glistening with her juices and with his eyes locked on hers, he inserts them in his mouth.

It’s the perfect mixture of salty and sweet, his ocean and rose girl.

To his surprise, Rose pulls his fingers from his mouth and without batting an eye, slips them between her own lips. He feels her tongue swirl up and around his fingers, licking herself off him.

“Shit, that’s so hot,” he grunts. With his fingers still suctioned between her lips, she wiggles out of her shorts and underwear, tossing them to the side. “I have an idea.”

“Okay,” she whispers removing her mouth from his digits.

She kisses the pads delicately before he stretches down and grabs his book. He hands it to her and scoots lower on the bed, smirking while he kisses down her belly. “Open up,” he tells her and as she opens the book, he spreads her legs. “Read to me.”

Her head is swimming with the erotic act that he’s doing but she does as he says and starts to read. Calum starts off slow with soft kisses on the inside of her thighs because he’s listening to the way her voice shakes. When she turns the page, he fully dives in with his mouth suctioning to her folds and Rose gasps. Her voice shakes more, and her legs are quick to follow while Calum creates his own poem with his tongue and lips.

He eats her out slowly and with intense care. He nips and sucks in just the right formation. Rose stops reading and starts moaning, her body curves upward in pleasure. Calum’s palm is flat on her belly while the other is hooked around her thigh to keep her body open for him. He hums against her as he feels her stomach tighten and he licks at her faster, she sucks in a breath and holds it while she basks in her orgasm.

Calum is hypnotized by the rise and fall of her breasts as she gathers her breath, he tongues at her lazily before removing his mouth. With the shadows on her face from the rain falling down her windows, it looks like she’s been crying, but he knows it would be tears of pleasure if it were real.

Rose drags him back up her body, her mouth hot and urgent on his.

“I want you,” she sighs into his mouth, her hand cups the bulge under his sweatpants.

“I want you too,” he nibbles on her lip. They’re both scrambling to remove the last article of clothing he’s wearing, and she reaches into her drawer pulling out a condom.

Noses touching, eyes locked, he pushes himself inside her, both moaning at the intense feeling of the stretch. Their breath is hot as he settles his hips against hers. He fills her completely then pulls back so he can create a steady rhythm and to hopefully hear her moans again.

Rose moans instantly, her fingers trailing up and down his back while he rocks her world. Her head tilts back and he uses the opportunity to kiss on her sweet neck, she tastes like roses and rainwater. Their heads become dizzy as his thrusts become faster and faster.

Sequentially, she screams his name just as the thunder rumbles loudly and as he’s reached his own high. It shakes the framework of the building and when he collapses on top of her, neither one can tell if the thunder or their lovemaking shook the world.

****

The next morning, Calum woke Rose up with breakfast in bed complete with French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. Rose is amazed at his gesture and they share the breakfast together while exchanging small pillow talk.

“You really are a great chef,” she compliments as they finish the last bite.

“Thank you,” he grins then discards the plates onto her nightstand. When he turns back around, he captures her lips in a sweet, syrupy kiss that he quickly deepens and makes her heart race. “Care to join me for a shower?”

“Yes please,” she smiles on his lips and kisses him once more. “Why don’t you go get it started, I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Don’t be too long, Rosie.”

Rose is left a little stunned as he slips from the bed and walks to her bathroom completely naked. He’s perfect from every angle. When the bathroom door closes, she scrambles for her black notebook and writes furiously on the page before skipping into the bathroom to join a wet Calum under the stream of warm water.

Since the night they shared together, Rose has been itching to share what she wrote in her notebook but it’s not that common for soulmates to use the ‘L’ word. The logic behind the reasoning does make sense, but if you’re soulmates there’s really no need to say those three little words.

Those three little words that are only written about and acted out in movies. Those three little words hold a different kind of weight, a different form of finality in the construct of soulmates. It’s been eating away at her for the last three days on whether she should just show him the poem.

Calum has tried to get what’s bothering her out of her, but Rose is stubborn and tells him it’s nothing. Calum is stubborn too but he’s more stubborn in a quieter version. He watches her actions, pinpoints her voice when it gets too high and notices how often her eyes glance to her book beside her bed.

She’s shown him her poetry in there before, but he hasn’t seen her write in it lately. While she’s fixing her make-up in the bathroom before going on a double date with Ashton and Ruby, Calum breaks his own moral code of privacy and opens her book. He flips through it until he gets to the last page she wrote in; he won’t look at anything else.

He begins to read:

‘Dancing in the moonlight while floorboards creak and hearts race, a moment frozen in time measured through the saxophone notes and rain patters against the windows. The smell of roses in her hair while rainwater grows their love right before their eyes in the palm of their hands it blooms and flourishes, growing, growing, growing.’

He’s speechless. This is clearly about their first date but that was nearly nine months ago, and she wrote the ‘L’ word. Does she want to say it to him? Did she know on their first date that she felt that precise word for him?

His mind is racing because even Ashton and Ruby haven’t said the ‘L’ word to each other. But he and Rose aren’t like them, what they feel and the connection they have runs deeper than the normal soulmate scenario. He felt it the first time their pinkies touched. He felt it when he looks in her eyes.

The door opens and Rose steps out, gasping when she sees what’s in his hands. Instead of anger for going through it, she feels embarrassment that he found it. She feels more naked and vulnerable under his gaze. Her throat is dry, but she still wants to try and rectify her slip up.

“I can explain,” she starts, fingers twisting together in nerves. Calum stares at her. “I wrote that the first night we slept together, it was just words in my mind that I needed to get out and I—”

Calum drops her book to the bed and gathers her in his arms in one swoop, one heartbeat of time. He kisses her with everything he has in him, her lips taste like cherries and she smells like roses and rainwater. His favorite smell. Rose gasps into the kiss but kisses him back with fervor, she untangles her fingers and clutches onto his leather jacket.

“You don’t have to explain, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

“I don’t?”

“No, because I’ve been thinking and feeling the same thing.”

“You have?” she gulps, staring up at him under her long lashes.

“Yes, silly girl,” he grins cupping her cheeks in his hands. His eyes never stray from hers and his voice doesn’t falter, “I love you, too.”

Rose smiles as she feels a new kind of warmth grow inside her, it’s a glowing type of warm that she knows won’t fade in time. It hovers inside her and she feels as if it’s waiting to latch onto something.

“I love you,” she tells him and that warm glow bursts out of her and right into Calum. She swears she saw it and the way he gasps makes her think he saw it too or is feeling it now inside him.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, his eyes widening, and she can see that glow burning inside his irises.

“I still feel it,” she nods sliding her hand up his stomach and onto his chest. “But I feel it in here,” she presses her hand right over his heart.

“I do too. Loving you is easy to do.”

They kiss and revel in this newfound feeling from saying those three words, it’s as if their kisses are sealing an unspoken vow to say them as much as they can. They were fifteen minutes late to dinner but when Calum traced ‘I ♡ U’ on the back of her hand, she decides that fifteen minutes was well worth it.

• • • •

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @thesubtweeter @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @allier59 @calumhoodaf @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05 @idontneedanyone

#calum hood oneshot #calum hood fluff #calum hood smut #calum hood fanfic #calum 5sos #calum smut #calum fluff #soulmate!au #soulmate!calum #5sos writing #5sos fanfi

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marvelmadam08 · 5 years

Text

Meanwhile, In Quarantine...

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 7: Well which is it? I’m getting nervous. // Prompt 79: You just ignored rule one through five. // Prompt 39: We’re gonna die here. // Prompt 11: I remind myself murder, even attempted, is illegal.

A/N: I’m on day seven or nine (honestly I lost count) of my quarantine, and I am slowly loosing my mind. Then I thought ‘What would the Avengers do during this quarantine?

~~~~~

One Week Earlier

“Miss (Y/N), Mr. Stark is calling for a mandatory team meeting in the common area.” Friday announces to you, interrupting your workout

“Right now?” you huffed out

“Yes, he says it’s urgent.”

You were the last to show up, annoyed and sweaty. Nat seemed to be the only other one who looked as annoyed as you, with her hair wrapped in a towel. Bucky, Sam and Steve lounged on the couch, while Clint was sharpening his arrows. Wanda and Vision stood off to the side to themselves. Thor sat next to Peter, who was hunched over his homework and Bruce stood next to Tony by the muted television displaying the news.

“Everyone here?” Tony pointed to everyone “Good, well I’m not sure if you all heard about this whole ‘virus’ that’s going around.”

“The Coronavirus?” Steve asked

“That’s the one,” Bruce nods “there have been a few cases popping up throughout the city, as well as the country, and within the next few days the entire country is going to be on mandatory quarantine.”

“Quarantine?” Peter spoke up “Like we can’t leave the country?”

“No, as in you can’t leave your house. And that includes The Compound and Tower as well.”

The room erupted in numerous hisses of disagreement.

“Half of us don’t even need to be in quarantine.” Nat stated loudly

“Yeah, stupid super soldiers.” you muttered

“That’s uncalled for.” Bucky gave you a stink eye

“Doesn’t matter, we’re being order by the government and Fury to stay put.” Tony tells you all “Parker, I’m only gonna say this once, you to stay put. No school, no parties, no dates.”

“But here at The Compound would be more ideal, seeing as it’s away from the city.” Bruce adds softly

“So we’re stuck here?” Wanda asks “For how long?”

“Well they say the quarantine could last between two weeks to two months.”

“Well which is it? I’m getting nervous.” Sam unmuted the TV

‘....stores have already begun to run out of water, toilet paper, and even baby wipes...’

Day 1

You, Wanda and Laura (Clint’s wife) were organizing the last of the quarantine supplies. Clint couldn’t stomach the idea of not being with them during the whole pandemic, so he asked to bring them up until everything blew over.

“Okay so the kitchen is fully stocked, all the cleaning supplies are put away.” Wanda sighed “It’s kind of scary, how everyone is reacting out there.”

“Yeah, I had to wrestle some hand sanitizer from some grown woman wearing a face mask and rubber gloves.” Laura admits

“I wish I could’ve seen that, since you had Nate strapped to your chest.”

“Speaking of, I should go check on him.”

Just as Laura walked out, Steve, Bucky and Peter walked in with large pizzas in their hands.

“This is the last of take out for the next few weeks. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Steve tells us

Everyone swarmed for their chosen slices before gravitating towards the TV to get an update on the quarantine. You were instructed to stay inside, only to leave unless it was absolutely necessary, and then return back to respective homes. Keep your contact with other people down to a minimum, and overall to sanitize and wash often.

“This is what I do on a regular basis.” Bucky scoffed

“Same.” Wanda and Nat chimed in

“This is gonna be so cool, like one big party.” Peter clapped

A few of the other groaned at Peter’s optimism.

“The kid is right,” Tony agreed “most times we’re on missions for weeks at a time. How is this any different?”

“He does make a point.” Vision nods “And surely there’s enough room for everyone to find their own thing.”

Day 4

You glared at Bucky, who was tapping his pen against his teeth, while trying to figure out the crossword puzzle in front of him. You were trying to do silent yoga, silent being the key word.

“Barnes, can you stop that?” you said through your teeth

“Stop what?” he paused

“Tapping the pen on your teeth.”

“It helps me think. Why aren’t you in the gym?”

“Because I can’t take Steve and Nat talking smack when they spar each other. And Sam is playing his music too loud, and his room is next to mine.”

“And it’s the tapping that bothers you?”

“Forget it.” you closed you eyes again and worked on tuning Bucky out

Tony hurried in, scanning around the room “Has anyone seen Parker? I can’t find him and neither can his aunt. (Y/L/N)?”

“Shh, doing silent yoga.” You hushed “And no, I haven’t.”

“He left.” Clint spoke from above the rest of you. There was a small whirling noise, and metal scrapping against more metal, then Clint and his daughter poked their head out from the vent above us.

“What do you mean he left?”

“He said something about building a death star.” The younger Barton, Lila, answered

“Friday, override and track the kid’s phone for me.”

“Of course Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned his attention to the TV, tapping on his phone and started to call Peter over video. At this point you gave up on silent yoga and just laid out on the mat. Peter’s face popped up on the screen but he wasn’t looking at his phone

“Trust me, they don’t even know I’m gone.” he told someone off screen

“Hello Mister Parker.” Tony waves

“Mr. Stark!” He hurried to pick up his phone “Hey, hi... um that’s so funny I was just about to come down to the lab, from my room.... which is where I am.... right now.”

“Oh you’re in your room? Not at Ned’s place building legos?”

He paused “No? I just got so bored! And there were so many rules to just stay in.”

“There were six rules max, and you just ignored rule one through five!”

“Are you sure he’s not your kid?” you chuckled

Day 7

“Twenty-three bottles of pop on the wall.” Sam half sung, eyelids closed, while rocking Nate to sleep

Steve and Bucky were each cuddling a plush stuffed animal on the floor. Morgan ran back and forth between poking Steve with a wooden spoon and the spot where she had a pile of cookies waiting on a plate. And Lila and Cooper were on their phones, headphones in, and not paying attention to their surroundings.

“What the hell you guys?” Nat groaned

“Ooh Auntie Nat said a bad word.” Morgan giggled

“Hey Monster.”

“Auntie (Y/N)!” Morgan jumped over Bucky and ran over to climb up your side until she reached your shoulders. “Guess what, I got to have cookies and chicken nuggets, gummies and a bunch of soda.”

“Nat? (Y/N)?” Bucky lifted his head from the floor, a flattened gummy beard on the other side of his cheek “Please tell me the others are back too.”

“On the contrary, Clint and Tony wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind watching the kids a little while longer.” Nat went to relieve Sam from baby duty “Tony talked to the mayor and got her to extend the quarantine curfew for their double date night.”

The three men groaned, you swore you saw a tear in Steve’s eye.

“We’re gonna die here.” Sam curled into a ball

“Why did we agree to babysit?” Steve spoke into the stuffed penguin he held

“Nat, maybe we should help them out.” You held Morgan tightly while she flipped upside down from your shoulders “They’re only men.”

“When the Earth spins, how do we know when we’re upside down?” Morgan poked you in the back

“Tell you what, clean up your mess, we’ll go get in our pj’s and then I’ll tell you.” you carefully set her back down on the floor, she ran off, picking up her toys and stray snacks

“Coop, Lila, your homework better be done, because if I have to check myself-.” Nat started.

They jumped up from their seats and rushed out the room, Steve looked up at you and Nat in awe, Nate fast asleep in her arms.

“How did you-”

“We have a way with kids, don’t take it personally.”

“Done!” Morgan cheered before pulling at your arm “Can we get in our pj’s now?”

Nat chuckled “Let’s go princess, (Y/N) will meet us there. You can help me get Nate ready for bed.”

Morgan took Nat’s free hand and skipped along side her. You took the stuffed animals and blankets from the guys.

“How did four children manage to out-do two super soldiers and a former air force vet?” you asked

“They’re small, but stealthy.” Sam yawned “Morgan has been asking us that spinning Earth question for hours.”

“I tried to explain how the Earth rotates but she told me I was wrong.” Bucky added

“Oh, it’s a joke. How do you know when the Earth turned upside down?” you paused, waiting for one of them to guess the answer “Fall time.”

Day 12

“What is this called again?” Thor points to Peter’s phone screen

“Twitter.”

“Twitter? Like the sound a bird makes? Oh and there’s a symbol of a bird there.” he laughed “Humans are so creative. Tell me Son of Stark, what is Twitter’s purpose?”

“Uh.... basically you just post whatever’s on your mind.” Peter handed over his phone to Thor “Sometimes people will like it, and retweet it, or leave a comment.”

“Please tell me you didn’t make Thor a Twitter page.” You spared a glance from your book

“He asked me to show him. What’s the worse that could happen?”

One Hour Later

“Who gave Thor a Twitter page?” Steve marched into the kitchen

You immediately point to Peter.

“He wanted to know about social media. I didn’t think it’d do any harm.” Peter blurted out

“What did he do?” You asked

“He keeps posting.” Steve scrolled through the tablet in his hand “Things like ’What is black twitter?’, ‘poptarts and coffee’, ‘Just noticed how Director Fury sounds like the freeze man in this Disney movie’, ‘Over heard Natasha and Wanda judging who had the best ass. Barnes or Rogers. Clearly it’s me’ He’s trending.”

“Steve it’s harmless fun, he’s excited to be apart of Midgard culture.” you dismissed “Or are you upset because you weren’t voted for the best bum?”

“You should see his latest, and most liked, tweet.” Steve handed the tablet to you with a smirk

“‘Pretty sure (Y/N) and Barnes are dating. How else do you explain their sexual tension?’ I’m gonna kill you Parker.” You went to grab Peter but Steve pulled you away at the last second

“You don’t mean that.” Peter started to back out of the kitchen “Do you?”

“Who gave Thor a Twitter?” Bucky spoke from the other room

“I can give you a ten second head start.” Steve warns Peter

Day 15

“I can’t take this anymore, no missions, no take out, I can’t even go get a freaking smoothie.” You paced from one end of your room to the other “I thought this thing was only suppose to be two weeks.”

“Well Tony said two weeks or two months.” Bucky lounged on your bed, playing with the rubic’s cube “Looks like it’s gonna be two months.”

“How are you staying calm?”

“I remind myself murder, even attempted, is illegal. Plus I’ve been in isolation most of my adult life, so this doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Right.” you said softly “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m complaining about being stuck in here, for my health when you’ve had it way worse.”

“Hey,” he caught your hand and pulled you closer “Don’t apologize, I know you didn’t mean any harm. And you tend to get cabin fever when we go on long surveillance missions. These next few days are gonna fly by, trust me.”

He trailed his hands up and down your arms, traveling to your waist and under your shirt.

“Uh-huh Barnes, not again.” you pulled away slightly “Vision and Wanda almost caught us last time.”

“Because you weren’t quiet.” he kissed up your torso

“No, because you dragged me into a linen closet for wearing shorts.”

Bucky gave you a small pout “I’m from the 1940′s doll, I fantasized about your calves when I first met you. And that we’re... is this considered dating or are we just messing around during the lock down?”

“I hope this means we’re dating.” you combed his hair back with your fingers “I’m not the kind of girl that you hump and dump.”

“Hump and what?”

You chuckled “Nevermind.” You straddled his waist, he gripped yours a little tighter “So Sergeant, you gonna take me on a date after this quarantine?”

“I’ll take you to Rome as long as you keep calling me ‘Sergeant’ doll.” he left soft kisses on your neck

“Mmm.”

“(Y/N).” Steve knocked on your door “Have you seen Bucky? I’m looking for him.”

“Nope, haven’t seen him.” Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, and tried to add to the bite marks he left the other day, but Steve wasn’t letting up.

“You know where he might be?”

You rolled your eyes and made Bucky stop “Have you checked the garage?”

“Why would he be in the garage?”

“Steve, pal, can it wait?” Bucky shouted “I kinda got my hands full in here.”

“Oh.” You could only imagine how red Steve’s face was at that moment.

“You are horrible James Barnes.” you giggled

“Sergeant.” he corrected you in a low growl

“Sergeant.” you brought your lips down to his, quickly fighting for dominance in the kiss. Bucky flipped you over, the bed squeaking under your shared weight

“Uh- should I go now?” Steve asked

#marvel #quarantine #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #tony stark #100 days of productivity #coronavirus #spiderman #Sebastian Stan #bucky x reader #black twitter #Thor Odinson #clint barton #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #marvel studios

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

Text

What do you waste your time doing the most? Lounging in bed switching between social medias and watching TV. I’ve wasted so much time these past few years doing absolutely nothing. :/ Have you ever been back-stabbed? Yes.

If you could be anything, what would you be? Healthy.

If you could be any Tv show character, who would you choose to be? Hm. I don’t know.

If you switched genders for one day, what would you do? Let’s be real, I wouldn’t do anything different. I’d do the same things I do everyday but as the opposite sex instead.

What power would you choose to have if you were superhuman? Is there a healing power?

What stereotype/clique would you say you are more like? I don’t know.

How do you handle being under pressure? Not well.

What does your phone cover look like? It’s clear and has Winnie the Pooh sitting in a honey jar underneath a tree branch with a beehive hanging off it and some bees buzzing around him.

Have you ever done anything illegal? If so, what was it? I’ve downloaded music, movies, and books back in the day like a lot of people did. Real rebels.

What is the perfect weather to you? Fall weather.

If you were a stripper, what would your stage name be? Nah.

What is your favorite holiday, why? Christmas. I love that time of year.

What is your least favorite bug? Um, ALL of them.

What is your favorite thing in the opposite sex? Guys with a good sense of humor.

What is your biggest fear? Losing my loved ones, death, getting worse/never getting better.

What is something your looking forward to? There isn’t anything currently.

If you could live on any planet, which one would you choose? I’ll just stay here on earth.

What is your favorite junk food? Little Debbie snack cakes, brownies, donuts, cheesecake, cookies, cupcakes.

If you could have any animal as a pet, which one would you choose? I like just having a doggo. I wouldn’t want an exotic animal or something.

What is your favorite time of the day? When I’m drinking my coffee and my nighttime routine.

What name do you wish you had? I’m fine with the name I have.

What would your dream home be like? Spacious enough for 4 adults and a doggo, hardwood flooring, a balcony, big backyard with a deck.

What is your favorite color? Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, and yellow.

Where is your favorite place to be? In bed.

What is your favorite fruit? Bananas. What is something your embarrassed about? Myself--how I look, the way I am, and where I’m at in my life.

What is one thing you'd like to be the best at? I just wish I was actually good at something.

Ever been on Chatroulette? Yeah.

What is the song that you know every single word to? There’s many.

Most painful memory? There’s a lot of those as well.

What is your favorite place in the whole wide world? I love being at the beach watching and listening to the ocean waves crash in and out, as well as feeling and smelling the ocean air.

A word that to you is impossible to spell? Onomatopoeia. Not impossible, but I definitely need to stop and think about it first. <<< Omg, same. I can never seem to remember how to spell for some reason.

What's something that you collect? Giraffe stuffed animals and knickknacks and Baby Yoda stuff.

Listener or Talker? Definitely a listener.

Thing you hate the most about the opposite sex? There’s things I don’t like about people in general, like close-mindedness and people who are very opinionated and judgmental.

Could have anything you wanted right now, what would you have? Good health.

Scariest movie you've ever seen? Hmm. I don’t know what movie I’d give the scariest movie I’ve ever seen title to.

What is the most awkward moment you've been in? My life.

A memory you'll never forget? Many memories with loved ones.

One of your quirks? I don’t know.

What type of phone do you have? An iPhone 12 Pro Max.

Favorite quote or saying? There are plenty that I’m able to relate to. <<<

Something you wanna do before you die? ”Live” sounds good. <<< !!!

What is a habit of yours? Picking at my nails. Look around you.. What is the thing you like the most around you? All my giraffe stuffed animals and my Baby Yoda plushies.

Favorite possession? All my things.

Favorite shirt? All of ‘em.

What is the name of your best friend? She’s Mom to me.

What is your favorite shoes? My pairs of Adidas. Least favorite singer? Hmm.

Something you love and hate at the same time? Food.

Are you one of those people who don't like to admit when their wrong? I can admit when I’m wrong and I’m wrong a lot. I’m always quick to blame myself for everything, too.

Girls who try too much are annoying.. Aren't they? Anyone tries too hard can sometimes end up coming off annoying or obnoxious and it tends to just backfire.

What color makes you relax? Colors don’t help me relax.

Are you an awkward type of person? Yep, that’s me.

Is it hard for you to make friends? I never had a problem getting along with people, but I had more acquaintances than friends. I’m just not a people person, I’m not someone people gravitate to or someone everyone wants to get to know. I’m really just not that interesting or make much of an impression.

How would you like to leave this earth? Painlessly.

What do you find stupid but most people like? Modern sitcoms I feel like.

What is a hobby you have? I love to read.

What's your plans for next weekend? I don’t have any.

Have any big dreams? What are they? No. :/

Restaurant that is horrible. Hmm. I haven’t had a horrible experience at a restaurant.

Have a fetish for anything? No.

Do you like long or short surveys? Long.

What age did you stop playing with dolls or action figures? Like 10 or 11.

Do you think your more mature then most of yours friends? I don’t have any friends, but I feel like everyone I know in my age range is more mature and adult than me. My 22 year old brother is more mature than me.

Like labels? For certain things.

Does your school have cliques? --

Do you enjoy running? No.

Something that you are horrible at but wish you were good at. Living, adulting, stuff like that.

A sport you think is dumb? I’m not interested in any sport.

What is your favorite food? Ramen, garlic parm and lemon pepper boneless wings from Wingstop, and scrambled eggs and biscuits smothered in country gravy.

Ever think about what it would be like to be someone else? Yeah. Night owl or Early Bird? Both since I don’t even go to bed until like 7 or 8AM. Lately, it’s been later. :/ If I’ve actually gone to sleep and I have to get up early, however, then I have a hard time. What celeb would you not mind meeting? Alexander Skarsgard. What's your favorite Tv channel? My TV is generally either on TV Land, CMT, The Hallmark Channel, or MTV.

Have texting? Yeah.

You have 3 wishes. What are they? Good health, financial stability, and more wishes. ha.

What did you first think about when you woke up? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, it’s 1:27AM.

What's the last thing you thought about before you went to sleep? ^^^

What do you want to be when you grow up? Or what are you? I’m 31 and still have no idea.

Like cartoons? Which one is your favorite? I still like some of the cartoons I watched as a kid such as Rugrats, Doug, and Hey Arnold.

Do you watch what you eat? No.

Have a favorite number? What is it? 8.

Are you quiet or loud? I’m a quiet person.

Were you an annoying baby? Not from what I’ve heard from my parents.

Worst subject? Was always mathematics. <<<

Best subject? Was English Language Arts. <<<

What's your favorite brand of shoe? Adidas.

What's your favorite month? Why? October and December. I love the weather and the holidays.

Favorite season? Fall and winter.

Least favorite holiday? Valentine’s Day.

Do you try new foods or do you stick with what you know you like? I stick to the same few foods now because of appetite and eating issues.

Love pictures or hate them? I like taking them and looking at them, but not having mine taken.

Have you ever thought about going to Fiji? I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.

What's your favorite movie character? I have several.

Have any nicknames? What are they? Steph and Sis.

Who do you miss? Loved ones who have passed away.

Someone have your heart? Just me.

Have any sports you love? What are they? Nope.

Do you keep to yourself or are you out there? I keep to myself.

What's your outlook on life? It’s been rather bleak the last few years. What is the prettiest object/person/landscape/anything that you have seen? That’s hard to choose.

Do you wear your heart on your sleeve? No, it’s more covered up by the sleeve.

What's your style? Very casual and comfortable consisting of leggings and oversized graphic tees.

Did you like this survey? Cause I might make more! Sure. Too bad I won’t know if you make or have made any more because I don’t know who you are.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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its-nuwanda-baby · 4 years

Note

its a bit of a odd pair but maybe some neil x knox?? hcs if you do them or a confession fic 👉👈

confession one shot, coming right up!

A Punch in the Right Direction (Knox x Neil)

Warnings: underaged drinking, language, slight mentions of blood, slight mentions of homophobia (only in the beginning!)

I PROMISE YOU IT’S WAYYY FLUFFIER THAN IT SOUNDS LOLL

when neil befriends a girl at rehearsals, he has no idea that she will single-handedly deliver him his doom... in the form of one, stupidly wasted knox overstreet. chaos ensues. also Todd and Stick are boyfriends because I can, and because that funky lil man will have a place in everything I write (I am but a stick stan account). ENJOY!!! let me know what you think!

Neil Perry had always known he was gay. He knew right when he kissed Charlie in the first grade, on a dare from Pitts, that this was what a crush was supposed to feel like. He accepted early on in life that the world was not kind to people like him. He understood that words like “queer,” “fairy,” and “homo” were names for people like him, and that the sneers of disgust that accompanied them were just part of a package deal. He knew when he started school at Welton Academy that there was the inevitable danger of crushing on roommates and friends, and by his senior year at the all boys school, he was used to the routine of identifying and burying unwanted feelings until they were forgotten. So, when Knox Overstreet had leaned against his doorframe on the first day of school, smirking like an idiot, Neil had no problem identifying the beginnings of a crush bubbling in his chest. He had no problem, when Knox had reached out to shake the hand of Neil’s new (incredibly shy) roommate, pushing down the goofy smile that had threatened to spread on his face at how sweet Knox was being. Neil Perry had a crush on Knox Overstreet, and, given his previous experiences, it was about as scary as a kitten.

He had no problem hiding his disappointment when Knox announced he wouldn’t be at study group that night, even trying to pull him out of his obvious state of disappointment- “anything’s better than Hell-ton hash, Knox…” he had said, with just the perfect amount of nonchalance to make it convincing. Oh well, he thought, at least it would be easier to focus on the trig homework he needed to finish.

And, when Knox returned, looking like his head was stuck in the atmosphere of Jupiter, Neil had so convincingly feigned his excitement when Knox had announced his infatuation with Chris- “are you crazy? What’s wrong with that?”- when the only thought going through his head had been you idiot, she has a boyfriend. What about me? I’m right here?

Neil Perry was, for the most part, a good actor. He could play the part of the excited friend, the matchmaker, the hopeless romantic, and he could play them with ease. It was Todd’s fault, really, that everything had begun to unravel. That the feelings became too much to bury. In Neil’s experience, once it was out in the open, there’s no going back. If only Todd wasn’t so damn observant.

The conversation had gone somewhat normal, in the beginning:

“I dunno, Todd… I guess I just don’t understand it! I mean, she has a boyfriend already! If Knox really loves her so much, why isn’t he happy for her?”

“Neil, no offense, but don’t you have more important things to worry about than Knox’s love life?”

“Like?”

“Like, just about everything else? Why is it so important to you, anyways?”

That had shut Neil up. Maybe he wasn’t too good at hiding his feelings, after all. Then, the dreaded question reared its ugly head.

“Do you… like Knox?”

He had never been good at this part, the part where he had to lie about his feelings. Usually, nobody could even tell something was off, and he never even had to think about what to say if someone guessed. Todd was just… different, somehow. Neil knew he was also queer. He had seen Todd holding hands with another boy from their hall, nicknamed Stick. They were a nice couple, and Neil had to bite back his jealousy at seeing what he only wished he could have with Knox.

“Neil? You know you can tell me, right?”

“You know the answer to that question already.”

Todd gave a small nod and moved to sit next to Neil, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“You know, I may be the newest addition to this friend group, but I don’t think Chris is the one Knox really wants.”

And before Neil could process the implications of the statement, Stick was at their door, and Todd was waving goodbye to Neil and leaning to kiss his boyfriend hello, and then they were gone.

But, if not Chris, then who? The question haunted his mind for days, and by the end of October, Neil Perry’s crush had grown into quite a bit more, which meant that burying his feelings was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated. Thanks to rehearsals and a new friend, maybe even impossible.

Neil enjoyed rehearsals. He loved watching his fellow actors lose themselves in the performance. He loved listening to the chatter of the tech crew as they discussed backdrops and lighting. He loved the smell of sawdust and paint that lingered in the air and on his clothes. The one thing he never really got the hang of was the talking. Despite being known as a social butterfly at Welton, the mixture of Henley Hall girls and public school kids was a whole new atmosphere for him, and if there’s one thing Neil Perry hated, it was change. So, when the girl who played Hermia walked up and introduced herself, he was so overjoyed at the prospect of a friend that he hadn’t stopped to ponder over the familiarity of her surname.

“Hey, you look a little lost! I’m Ginny, Ginny Danbury. I play Hermia.”

He had looked up, unsure at first of whether he was the one being addressed. In discovering that he was, his face broke out into the trademark Neil Perry Smile, the one he reserved for his dad and Dr. Nolan.

“Neil. Perry. I, uh, I play Puck.”

They had shaken hands, he in his crown of twigs, and she in her pink tulle dress, and a friendship was born.

Two weeks before the performance, she mentioned her older brother.

“So, I got home last night, and Chet- that’s my brother, by the way- Chet asked me if I had been hooking up with someone. Apparently, he thinks the only valid reason to be out late is if you’re getting laid…”

She had kept talking after that, but Neil had stopped listening. What had Knox said about that girl? Practically engaged… to Chet Danbury. When rehearsal was over that night, Ginny asked Neil a question.

“Would you mind giving me your phone number?”

—

The smell of cheap liquor greeted Knox before he had even opened the door. Charlie’s words rang in his head; you don’t really think she means you’re going with her? He was right, after all… this was Chris’s boyfriend’s house, and he was a guest. His guest. He was really starting to regret passing up a Poets meeting for this, when he could have been cozied up next to Neil in the cave. Neil… with his perfect brown eyes that should be considered national treasures, in Knox’s opinion, and a voice like velvet… Neil, the reason he had even begun pursuing Chris in the first place, as a way to distract him from the true object of his affections. Neil, whose absent-minded, yearning looks were surely reserved for everyone, not just him… keep it together, Knox, tonight is the night you forget about Neil Perry, once and for all.

“Carpe diem, Knoxious… carpe diem.”

He opened the door.

About an hour later, he was wasted. His earlier attempt to get a beer had been sabotaged by two football players who were a little too closely acquainted with the bottles of vodka and whiskey lined up on the counter. Before he knew what was happening, his beer had been replaced by a shot of liquor that smelled exactly like the stuff his sisters used to clean off their nail polish, and he had been affectionately dubbed “Mutt Sanders’ brother” by the shorter of the two jocks, despite his protests of never having met a Mutt Sanders. A few shots later and he was stumbling into the basement, nearly incoherent. What happened after that would surely remain burned into his memory forever, but the most that he could bring himself to tell anyone was that he had somehow ended up on the floor with a bloody nose and a splitting headache.

The full story is a bit more complicated. Knox, intoxicated and feeling brave, had begun his search for Chris in the kitchen, weaving around crowds of people he didn’t know. If he had been sober, he certainly would have been a little less obvious, but Knox Overstreet was a man on a mission, and although the alcohol helped him focus on the task at hand (find Chris, woo Chris, (maybe) hook up with Chris, fall in love with Chris, forget Neil Perry), it certainly didn’t aid him in his attempts at subtlety. By the time he managed to get to the basement, he forgot why he was there.

Neil, Knox, you’re here to find- no, you’re here to FORGET Neil. Find Chris, forget Neil. Find Chris, forget Neil. It was here that Knox began to feel the fourth shot in his legs, and he quickly moved to sit on the couch before they gave out. Cursing his low alcohol tolerance, he began to scope out the crowd in the basement for Chris, when he suddenly became aware of two things at once: the presence of an annoyingly loud couple mid-makeout on his right, and the sleeping presence of Chris Noel on his left. And Knox Overstreet, in a burst of alcohol-infused idiocy, began to stroke her hair, and suddenly it wasn’t Chris on the couch beside him, but Neil. Neil Perry, and he was smiling up at Knox, saying something that Knox couldn’t understand because all he could see was the shape of Neil’s lips, moving ever so slowly towards his, and in that moment, as their lips met, time seemed to slow down, and the voices and music were all combining into a kind of ambient soundtrack- that is, until the distorted voice of Kitchen Jock #1 made its way into Knox’s alcohol-muddled brain, pulling him back to earth in word form.

Chet… CHET, it’s Mutt Sanders’ brother! And he’s feelin’ up YOUR GIRL!

And he wasn’t kissing Neil, he was kissing Chris, and she wasn’t asleep, she was sitting up, asking him what he was doing, and, hell, what was he doing? As he opened his mouth to answer her, he picked up a bright red blur in his peripheral vision, moving towards him.

Next thing he knew, he was on the floor.

—

There was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Perry. You have a phone call.”

“Yessir, I’ll be right there, sir.”

Todd shot him a confused look from where he was sat on the floor with Stick. He and Neil had left the Poets meeting about ten minutes after Charlie showed up with girls and liquor, and Meeks and Pitts had soon followed. The latter two had denied their invites to a study group, which meant they were most definitely making out in their room, so Todd had asked Neil about inviting Stick to work on the Latin conjugation assignment together, to which Neil had happily agreed.

In all honesty, Neil was glad for the phone call. Todd and Stick were so cute together it was nearly maddening, especially when Neil could so easily imagine him and Knox together in the same ways. The gentle brush of their shoulders against one another as Todd checked Stick’s spelling, the way Stick watched Todd’s lips moved as he practiced his pronunciations… to anyone else, it would have been endearing, but to Neil it felt like a lifetime prison sentence.

Dr. Hager handed him the telephone when he got to the end of the hall, and he nodded a “thank you” before watching the man disappear into his room.

“Hello, this is Neil Perry?”

“Neil, thank goodness you’re there!”

“Ginny?”

“Yes, oh, I’m so sorry to bother you on a Friday night, but there’s been a bit of an… incident…”

Shit. Knox had been at the Danburys’ house. Neil’s blood turned to ice.

“What sort of incident? Is everyone alright?”

“Well, sort of… do you happen to know Knox Overstreet?”

Boy, did he ever…

So that’s how Neil ended up at the Danburys’ house at 10 pm on a Friday night, picking up a bleeding (and incredibly drunk) Knox. Ginny hadn’t been able to tell him what happened, and nobody else got a good look, but the story was that, while an intoxicated Knox had been trying to dance with Chris, Chet noticed and punched him in the nose. Neil believed it.

So there they were, sitting on the dock near the lake as Neil pressed snow to the bruise that was rapidly forming around Knox’s eye.

Around 11, Neil deemed Knox sober enough to take back to the dorms without causing suspicion, and they crept up the stairs and down the hall to Neil’s and Todd’s dorm.

Neil softly pushed the door open with his foot to see Todd at his desk, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper. Upon seeing Knox’s inebriated state and the exhausted look on Neil’s face, he immediately jumped to help Knox out of his coat and tie while Neil guided him to sit on one of the beds.

“Neil! Buddy! How’d you get here?”

Neil and Todd immediately shushed Knox, whose bruised face contorted into a frown.

“Sorryyyy” was the slurred response, given in a sort of whisper-yell smoothie.

“Knoxy, don’t talk. Your nose is still bleeding.” Neil’s voice was dripping in concern, which caused one of Todd’s eyebrows to perk up in his tell-tale “I told you so” smirk. Knox was preoccupied with trying to lick the blood from his nose “to clean it!”, and Neil was trying to get him to sit still.

After about an hour, Todd had gone to room with Hopkins for the night, to his immense gratitude (drunk Knox was not a character Hopkins was particularly interested in dealing with, and neither Todd nor Neil blamed him one bit). Knox, who had sobered up enough to gain the ability to form coherent sentences (but not a filter) was delighted to fill Neil in on the happenings of the party, to which Neil couldn’t bring an objection from his lips. As annoying as he could be, Neil loved Knox’s ramblings, sober or otherwise.

“And then, I was sitting on the couch and the strangest thing happened! Chris was there, but it wasn’t really Chris! It was you, Neil, can you believe it? You were there!”

Neil hummed in mock surprise, grabbing the cup of water he had gotten from the bathroom and wetting another towel.

“No, Neil, you gotta remember, you kissed me! Well, you almost did…”

Neil froze, almost dropping the water.

“I.. did what?”

“You kissed me, silly! And I thought I was drunk…”

“Knox, I wasn’t at the party… I didn’t kiss you.”

The crushed look on Knox’s face at Neil’s words would have been adorable if it hadn’t been so sad…

“You… didn’t kiss me?” Neil shook his head slowly. “But then, who did I kiss?”

“Knox, Chris’s boyfriend punched your lights out. You were seeing things.”

“But Neil, you don’t get it. That was supposed to be our kiss!”

“Shh, Knox, stop moving so much. Your nose isn’t bleeding anymore, so let’s get you to bed. Can you stand up?”

Knox pouted, pouted, which almost caused Neil to drop dead on the spot, and stood up shakily before giggling and leaning into the wall.

“Nope!” He sang, popping the “p.”

Neil sighed. Knox was wearing jeans and a dress shirt, which meant he was going to be incredibly uncomfortable. Might as well do it now, then at least he won’t remember if anything embarrassing happens…

“Knox, you’re going to be uncomfortable sleeping in that.”

“So strip me, Perry, I’m not afraid,” he said with a drunken attempt at a wink that should not have made Neil’s heart flutter in the way that it did. He sighed and moved to unbutton Knox’s shirt, breathing another sigh of relief when he was met with the sight of a cotton t-shirt underneath. Crisis number one, averted.

“If I hold onto your shoulders, can you get your own pants off?”

“Yyyyyyeup!” It took Knox three tries to find the button on his jeans, but eventually, his clothes were folded neatly on Neil’s desk and Knox was sitting on the bed in just a t-shirt and boxers.

“You know, Neil, it’s your fault I went to that stupid party anyways.”

“Pardon?”

“Your fault, Neil. You and your stupid hair and your stupid face… you’re so stupid and fucking hot and it drives me so insane. It’s your fault I tried so hard to get Chris, and… and it’s your fault that my fucking nose is broken. There, I said it.”

There had only ever been a handful of times where Neil Perry was rendered fully speechless. Usually, it happened when his father said something particularly nasty, or when Todd occasionally worked up the courage to read his original poems at DPS meetings. But nothing could have prepared him for what Knox Overstreet said to him at 11:30pm on that fateful Friday night as he knelt on the floor between his legs.

“Wh-what?”

“You’re so stupid, Neil… I can’t do this anymore.”

And before he could say anything, Knox pulled him in by his tie and captured Neil’s parted lips with alcohol drowned ones of his own.

Neil pushed him away with no hesitation. “Knox, I-“

“Neil, come on… first Chris, now you too?”

“Knox…”

“No, Neil. You always talk, now I’m talking. I’m in love with you, and I thought maybe you might have been in love with me after tonight, but I was wrong and I’m starting to think that maybe going after Chris was a good thing, because she made me forget about you, even if it was just a little bit for a little bit of time. I’m…” Knox went silent as Neil kissed him again, softly.

“Knox, I like you. I like you a lot, actually, but you’re still really drunk and we should wait to talk about this, yeah?”

He stroked Knox’s hair softly, smiling when the other boy nodded and leaned into his touch.

“Okay. I’m gonna get ready for bed now, alright? I’m not leaving, I promise.”

Knox hummed affirmatively, getting under the covers of Neil’s bed.

“Smells like you… smells nice.” He buried his face in Neil’s pillow.

Neil smiled as he turned off the lights and got into Todd’s bed, listening to Knox’s quiet snores until he fell asleep.

—

“Fuck”

Knox opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it when the world exploded, sending shards of light and color into his aching brain. Groaning, he buried his face in his (no, not his, his was softer?) pillow, wincing at the unexpected throb around his eye. He rolled over, facing the ceiling, moving an arm up to cover his eye when he heard the door open and relaxing immensely when he heard Todd’s voice.

“Morning, Knoxious. You okay?” Todd’s concern was evident, which made Knox feel a lot better. He loved that about Todd, he made up for what he lacked in confidence with an abundance of love and care for other people. Here he was now, handing Knox a bad of ice and a plate of pancakes from the diner he loved in town.

“Stick and I got breakfast this morning, thought you could use a hangover cure. Oh, which reminds me, I also brought you this,” he said, handing Knox a cup of water and a bottle of aspirin. He took everything with a smile, which widened when he saw Todd return it. Todd never smiled, and when he did, it was almost always genuine, and it made Knox feel warm inside to know that he had caused it.

“Where’s- ahem- where’s Neil?” Knox cleared the sleep from his throat and gulped down a couple pills before digging into the pancakes- blueberry. My favorite! Todd knows my favorite!

“Oh, uh, I actually don’t know,” Todd shrugged, furrowing his eyebrows, “He might be down by the dock? He goes there to study sometimes when he’s conflicted.”

Knox nodded, drinking the rest of the water and making quick work of the remaining pancakes.

“I’m gonna go find him. We gotta talk. If you see him, let him know I’m looking for him, alright?”

Knox got out of bed, only slowing for a moment when he realized he wasn’t wearing pants, before grabbing his jeans from their place on Neil’s chair and tugging them on before leaving the room.

Knox Overstreet had shitty hangovers. He had the headaches, the nausea, the fatigue, the dehydration, you name it… but he couldn’t seem to get wasted enough to ever forget anything. Usually, that was a good thing. As Knox marched towards the dock, he couldn’t decide whether he was glad to have the memories of the previous night, or if he wished that they would disappear forever.

His eyes are so fucking pretty. Fuck, how could I ever think I was in love with Chris when he was right here in front of me?

“Knox? You okay?”

“Mmm. You’re pretty, that’s all.”

He had laughed, then. God, his laugh was like music. His laugh was music.

“You’re pretty too, Knoxy.”

Fuck. It was too much, he was right here, and he had just taken Knox’s shirt off, and he was sitting on the floor between his legs, and it was all too much.

Carpe fucking Diem.

“You’re so stupid, Neil… I can’t do this anymore.”

Knox was grateful for Neil’s tie in that moment, because it was the one thing tethering him to the mortal world. Neil’s lips felt like home, and he knew it was more than just a drunken kiss. He was made to be kissing Neil, and he felt like he could do it forever.

And then it had ended.

“Knox, I-“

“Fuck.” He cursed at himself, the memory hurting his head worse than the alcohol or the bruise.

“I like you a lot, actually…”

“You’re pretty drunk still”

“Wait to talk about this, yeah?”

“Knox! Down here!”

Speak of the fucking devil. Neil Perry, looking as beautiful as ever, was sitting on the dock, long legs sprawled out, reading glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. He looked delicious. Knox shoved back those thoughts before they made themselves known on his physical form and waved at Neil, walking towards him.

“Hey, Neil.”

“I’m glad you’re up! How are you? How’s your head?”

“‘M fine, Neil. Really. Thanks to you and Todd.”

As he sat down next to Neil, he couldn’t tell if the look the other boy gave him was a look of concern or of longing.

“The bruise actually looks a lot better. I’ll bet it’s gone completely by Monday.”

Knox tried to hide the way his breath hitched as Neil’s hand moved to cup his cheek, stroking the area around his eye so tenderly it should have been illegal.

“Neil…”

“I know. We need to talk about last night.”

“I shouldn’t have…”

“Actually, I’m… I’m glad you did. Considering you meant it, at least.”

Knox was speechless. He had planned a whole speech out on his way down, only to have all words robbed from him by the flecks of sunlit gold in Neil’s brown eyes.

I love you

“I did. Mean it, that is… I definitely meant it.”

Jesus Christ, I love you, Neil Perry

“Then you won’t mind if… if I did it again?”

Knox met Neil’s eyes with his own.

“Not in the slightest.”

Then, he did the same with his lips.

And I love you, Knox Overstreet.

#neil perry #knox overstreet #dead poets society #dps #dps fanfic #dead poets society fanfic #dead poets society fanfiction #dps fanfiction #neil perry x knox overstreet #Spencer writes!#perrystreet #that's their ship name now

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