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#this is more ridiculous than it even seems because in the past year ive already written over 2mil words according to 4thewords
satancopilotsmytardis · 9 months
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Thank you for giving us all those fics on Ao3 lately
I hope you reach the word goal
Your writing is amazing
Thank you for the kind words! I am, unfortunately, very 'make numbers go bigger' motivated, so the thought of having posted 1 million words on AO3 in a year makes me feral. Right now I'm still working through my backlog of prompt responses but if I can, I might be dropping a new Mishap installment and a new chapter of Bitch Me (Violently) too before the new year!
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mrs-mquve-cc · 1 year
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Sims Tag  
I was tagged by @esotheria-sims!
1. What’s your favourite sims death?
Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever let a sim die 😆 Not only do I not actually play the game very often, I’m just too attached to my sims. But if I had to choose it’d be death by cowplant.
2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match?
Alpha/semi-realistic till the day I die!
3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight?
Nah, that’s unnecessary.
4. Do you use move objects?
ALWAYS.
5. Favorite mod?
@lamare-sims‘ Shiftable Everything! I love to decorate, and this was a TOTAL game-changer for me.
6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got?
I bought The Sims 2 Deluxe in 2007. I still get confused with what came with the base game and what came with Nightlife because I’ve always had NL 😅
7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing?
Like LIVing. I seem to be in the minority on this but whatever.
8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?
Laegrinna, of course! I’m sure everyone who follows me knows already but she’s the sim pictured in this post and in my avatar. She’s the protagonist of a game called Deception IV: Blood Ties.
9. Have you made a simself?
Yep, I do have one, you can see her in my 40th birthday post from last year. I gave her graying hair then to be more accurate. I did play as her a few times but it felt kind of weird so she just roams around my hood.
10. What sim traits do you give yourself?
I don’t use the traits mod but if I did, it’d probably be Absent-Minded, Perfectionist, Cat Person, Eccentric, and Socially Awkward.
11. Which is your favorite EA hair color?
I don’t use EA colors or textures, obviously, but I hate them all, especially the pee yellow blonde 😂
12. Favorite EA hair?
I don’t use EA hairs, but the only one I even remotely like is the Mansion & Garden dreads band hair. I might try to do something texture-wise with it at some point.
(Editing to say HOW THE SHIT DID I FORGET LAEGRINNA’S HAIR *facepalm* yeah it’s the Modern Bob from the EA store. As for hairs shipped with the game see above)
13. Favorite life stage?
I only play adults because I’m boring lol
14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?
I dunno, I spend way more time creating and taking pics than I do playing. I’m awful at building but I do enjoy it and like I said I love decorating.
15. Are you a CC creator?
Yep, have been for almost 8 years now! I’ve made a ridiculous amount of CC, mostly hairs but I think I enjoy retexturing clothing and objects a bit more. I’ve just started learning meshing and it’s opened up so many new possibilities for me. I have an endless list of future projects!
16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad?
I have a few. I’m not popular in the community or anything and my social skills are lacking but I do like interacting with other simmers.
17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4)
Sims 2 forever!
18. Do you have any sims merch?
Nope.
19. Do you have a YouTube for sims?
No and I don’t think I’d be good at making videos in general.
20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing?
It’s gotten much more eccentric and I’ve leaned harder into semi-realism despite most people playing Maxis Match the past 10+ years. I love goth/alternative CC and incorporated a lot more into my game when I created the Deception IV sims. It’s funny because it seems like people’s tastes get more mainstream as they age, but it’s exactly the opposite for me. I look at my old CC and the way I used to dress and make up my sims and think “wow was I boring back then.” The current aesthetic of my game more accurately reflects my personality.
21. What’s your Origin ID?
Bold of you to assume I use Origin 😂
22. Who’s your favorite CC creator?
Too many to list here! I’m a CC hoarder.
23. How long have you had a simblr?
7 years, almost as long as I’ve been creating.
24. How do you edit your pictures?
I do minimal editing, partially because I’m not very good at it and also because with CC previews I want people to see exactly what they’re getting. I use Pooklet’s game lighting actions, I��m careful with how much light I use when taking the pics in-game because it’s easier to brighten a screenshot than fix an overexposed one (Laegrinna’s white hair is particularly prone to overexposure). I brighten the subjects of the picture a bit more and darken the background a little so they stand out. But that’s really it.
25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next?
Well, we’re not getting anything else for TS2 anyway, and I don’t even know what else I’d want because there’s so many fun mods out there that add to the game.
25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far?
That’s a tough one - I love playing witches (Laegrinna and her sister Velguirie are both evil witches) so Apartment Life is up there, but I also love playing businesses and having my sims go out on the town so I couldn’t imagine playing without OFB or Nightlife.
I’m going to tag @furbyq, @focalor-sims, @equinoxts2, @pooklet, @skulldilocks, @letomills, and @phoebe-twiddle!
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leejihoonownsmyheart · 8 months
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noooo i havent seen that anime yettt i think i will sjnskms👀
HELP NO I DID SAY ITS P FAR AWAY BY NORMAL STANDARDS I JUST LIKE TO THINK ABOUT MYSELF A LOT😭😭 i twin w beomgyu >.<
SPEAKING OF BEOMGYU i was listening to coming back for more like two days ago and all i could think of was OMG THIS IS SOOOO JEONGHAN AND YN i think i need help rip
math is sooooo so hard it makes me vomit like,,
ive been ignoring it for the past few days rip and thats got my mom so worried i feel so guilty,,,,, but also😭 i love math i cannot live without math i literally ignore every other subject in favour of practicing math all day every day (which is also super harmful-) BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THIS
and no i was talking about a series called once upon a broken heart the mmc is so unhinged and such a sadist most of my annotations of that series look like, 'pathetic jeonghan?' 'pathetic jeonghan would totally do this' ' THIS IS SOO PATHETIC JEONGHAN??'
!!!if youre into angst you should def read it the second book is going to rip you soul to shreds and im not even kidding i love it soo much
IRRELEVANT BUT theres a book releasing in like two days omg and im sooo excited bec 1) its the last part 2) its like a cannon crossover w another series which i used to be obsessed w by the same author i love crossovers i just love dimension travel (?) man
ARE YOU WATCHING PERCY JACKSONNN I LOVE IT SOO MUCHHH CANT BELIEVE S1 WILL BE OVER THIS WEEK?? the eps end before they even start eng shows are soo short its so annoying like?? eight eps?? 30 mins per ep??? thats hardly a quarter of a regular kdrama girlie be fr😭😭
help i havent really thought about it i dont think im not anal much?? 👀 (maybe a lot of sickly sweet fluff too) LET ME THINK ABOUT IT WILL GET BACK TO YOU !!
tbh ive been trying to find good joshua x jeonghan smut + fic but i never seem to be able to TT ive given up atp,, like its mostly non idol au and ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP TROPE (LIKE THATS SUCH A HUGE TURN OFF FOR ME FOR SOME REASON) like give me yearning give me pining give me savagery give me tears sigh
i woke up so pissed today because isnt it just so annoying when you think youre finally over your highschool crush and then she invades your dreams looking ridiculously hot smh like i PHYSICALLY felt my heart pound in my sleep ive been able to think only about her all day long its driving me crazy and this is tmi i think💀
OMG WHAT ABOUT 🎀 or 💥 or 💫 WHICHEVER YOU THINK SUITS ME BETTER YOU DECIDE !!!
also im almost 20 hehe youre only like four years older than me 👀
Tell me if you dooo watch it i’m actually super into it right now
BEOMGYU TWIN- I AM SOOBIN TWIN. WE SHOULD PUT TOGETHER A GROUP OF TXT BIRTHDAY TWINS AND JUST DO DANCE AND SONG COVERS OF ALL THEIR SONGS FOR ATTENTION AND LIKE MOVE INTO A HPUSE TOGETHER AND RECREATE ALL OF THEIR TIKTOKS AND MVS AND INSTAGRAM POSTS HOW FUNNY WOULD THAT BE
NO IT IS WHEN THAT SONG CAME OUT I WAS LIKE this is theirs. ITS SO THEM.
Learning very interesting things about you…. Math is hard… but loves math….
ILL CHECK OUT THAT BOOK SERIES IF I REMEMBER IT SOUNDS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY
HAVE YOU READ THAT BOOK THAT JUST RELEASED YET?! IS IT GOOD?! WORTH THE WAIT?!
I AM WATCHING PJO I FANT BELIEVE ITS ALREADY OVER?! I DO STILL HAVE THREE EPISODES TO WATCH THOUGH IM SO SCARED OF SPOILERS I CANT EVEN GET IN TIKTOK 😭
noted noted noted… prefer yearning…
THAT IS SO ANNOYING IM SO SORRY YOU WOKE UP TO THAT. Thinking that you moved on only to find out you DIDNT i would be so stressed… crushes are… stressful….
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serowotonin · 3 years
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falling ; bakugou k.
pairing ( bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ) wordcount ( 2.4k ) genre ( fluff & basically pining )
↷ a hc-styled narrative describing the four stages bakugou katsuki goes through as he finds himself falling for you . . .
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STAGE I ( impression ) ;
the first time bakugou laid eyes on you was during the entrance exam at UA. 
back then, you were just another face in the crowd of faces he was going to have to beat to earn his spot in UA
the first time bakugou spoke to you wasn’t memorable to him either
like with everyone else, he was loud and rude and made it very clear he wasn’t interested in playing friends
after that you became a part of the class, just another extra, someone who’d just get in the way
that was all he thought you were… 
until you kicked todoroki’s ass one day during training
the teachers had paired everyone in the class and told you to practice your 1-on-1 combat skills using your quirk 
bakugou, who was paired with kirishima went first
you and todoroki were to be the last pair
despite a good effort put up by kirishima, bakugou still ended up winning that round
when it was finally yours and todoroki’s turn, bakugou paid extra attention
in his mind, he knew todoroki was powerful and someone to watch out for
but what happened was quite unexpected
you maneuvered easily through todoroki’s attacks with a combination of physical prowess and creative usage of your quirk
let’s just say his ice didn’t work on you and he was caught off guard, allowing you to snatch a win 
needless to say, most of your classmates were a bit surprised at first
bakugou included
they knew you were strong but they didn’t know you were that skilled
whatever the rest of the class thought didn’t matter to bakugou though
all he knew was that now he had to keep an eye on you
STAGE II ( perspective ) ;
after that event, bakugou did indeed keep his eye on you
it started off with him observing your moves whenever the class had to do any training exercises 
he saw you fight with todoroki a couple more times after that
those didn’t end in easy victory for you as it did before because todoroki was now more wary of you
however, the way you evaded and countered his attacks was something to be praised
in bakugou’s subconscious opinion at least
your moves were carefully thought out and bakugou could see that
he could see the effort and practice you had put into perfecting them
not only that, he could also see the natural talent that you had to be able to become this strong
and it wasn’t only your fighting capabilities
you were also smart
maybe he hadn’t noticed it before but he did now
you seemed to always know the answer when a teacher called on you and your grades were great
slowly, but surely, you gained respect in his eyes 
if he knew one thing about you, it was that you were maybe the tiniest bit better than the other extras 
for a while it stayed like this, him acknowledging you but never making it obvious and you just doing your thing
that was of course until one day in the morning before class started
mina, kirishima, and sero were talking about things as they usually were and somehow the conversation led to you
they were talking about how strong and smart you were and going on about stuff
bakugou must’ve turned his head in their direction or something but mina noticed him listening so asked him cheekily what he thought of you
“y/n? of course they’re strong. anyone could see that.”
he said that pretty loudly and didn’t seem to notice you walking into the classroom
and of course you heard
“did my ears deceive or did the bakugou katsuki just praise me?” you teased
he was pretty embarrassed, blushing and sweating a bit but trying to hide it
soon after though, class started and the ordeal was forgotten
but something about that interaction led to you and bakugou becoming closer
closer in that instead of passing the other off as another strong classmate as you usually would, you’d actually greet each other and talk 
you’d say hello to him in the mornings and goodbye after school and he’d just grunt or nod your way
but this was what it meant to be close to bakugou anyway
during the weeks that passed, bakugou found himself noticing you even more
before he only paid attention to your skills and thought about you as an enemy or rival of sorts
now it seems as if he’s just noticing the little things about you and your personality that make you who you were
he wasn’t doing it on purpose god forbid
no no it was just him being unknowingly observant
weeks turned into months and months turned into years
in a blink of an eye, you were all well in your second year
with everything that happened, you and bakugou became close
close enough for you to tease him at random times and close enough for him to ask you to fight him as training
by then it was safe to say bakugou knew you
he knew the little quirks you had 
he knew your different smiles, your different laughs
he knew your favorite foods and your not so favorite ones
he knew the many different little things that made you you
STAGE III ( contradiction ) ;
before the start of the third year, the class decided to have a little get-together party of sorts
to celebrate the start of their last year in high school and to catch up as everyone’s been busy with internships and whatnot
you spent the break away from tokyo so it’s been a while since you saw the rest of the class
naturally you were excited to be able to meet them all casually again before the intense studying and training that awaited you all 
bakugou, on the other hand, wasn’t too excited
frankly, he could do without seeing the class before school
but when he heard you were going to be there, he also agreed to go
so there you two were with the rest of the class at a cinema buying drinks and popcorn before your movie started
the neon lights and the prospect of popcorn lit up your face and bakugou couldn’t help but stare
there was just something, something he couldn’t quite figure out
it’s not that you were beautiful, it’s not that you looked cute in that outfit, it’s not that your smile was making his heart flutter
no it wasnt any of that true though they may be
you just.. you looked nice
thats why he was staring
yeah he hasn’t seen you in a while and you come back looking *nice* 
of course he would stare
anyone would
apparently you had noticed him staring though, so you sent a wink and a grin his way before turning back to the popcorn and drinks
in other words, you killed him
with ridiculously high levels of cute and nice
kirishima and sero were just watching the whole thing happen and hell was it obvious to them
their boi was falling hard
now they knew he’d never admit it and they knew you weren’t likely to do anything about his “crush” even if it was obvious to you too
so…
while bakugou was busy helping you carry your popcorn, they devised a rather devious plan
operation: jelly burst
objective? none other than to make explody boiy jealous
for what reason? no reason really it’s just fun to mess with him and this is probably the first time he’s had this big a crush
once everyone finished buying popcorn and was walking into the cinema, operation: jelly burst was put into action
“hey y/n ! come sit next to me” — sero
so you did, nothing strange bout that, sero was a good of yours anyway, nothing strange at all
bakugou moved to come sit next to you too but kiri hurried past him and sat down on your other side before he could
“oh hey bakubro didn’t see ya there sorry”
the seat kirishima stole was the last seat on the aisle
and bakugou was forced to go sit somewhere else
alone
poor guy</3
the seat he found was a few rows above yours though and all went according to the jelly burst plan
by the end of the movie, bakugou was in the foulest mood and no one, except for the 2 lads sitting on either side of y/n, knew why
operation: jelly burst didnt end there though
see they got him jelly but they haven’t gotten him to burst
the next week at school, kirishima and sero both acted really nice to you
it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but they did talk to you just a tad bit more than usual
either way bakugou noticed big time and he did not like it
he did not like it one bit
the jelly was there alright
it was just boiling to unprecedented levels
pretty soon, the boys dumped the idea of operation: jelly burst 
mainly cos it was taking too long 
but also because bakugou had become at least 10x more hostile
except to you of course
for some reason, a reason absolutely no one could figure out(sarcasm intended), he was just
quiet around you
didnt yell but didnt really talk to you either
whenever anyone else, kiri and sero especially, tried to talk to him though, he’d shout louder and be a lot ruder to them 
he’s just agitated
and he knew why he was that way
he’s just in denial about it
he’s also in denial about the reason why
why couldn’t he just accept his feelings and act on it already?
kirishima asked him that one day in the dorms
he saw bakugou staring very intensely straight at you without blinking for a full minute
“look man, don’t even try to tell me you don’t like y/n. it’s obvious and i’m not an idiot. you aren’t either.”
“i know shitty hair. it’s just… i’m me. and she’s y/n. nothing’s ever gonna happen.”
“you don’t know that”
“but i do. cmon, she’s just so fucking perfect even with all her flaws. and i’m just the loud guy with exploding hands and no emotions.”
kiri was surprised honestly
this wouldn’t be the first time bakugou was insecure around him but the way bakugou talked about you and how he implied he wasn’t worthy
damn that hit kirishima 
“bakubro, i’m gonna help you”
STAGE IV ( intimacy ) ;
ever since he told kirishima abt what’s been bothering him about you and ever since kirishima declared he’d help, bakugou became more…
quiet
he was still loud, but he just became a soft kind of loud now(?)
it was like he got calmer and he was assured that things would be okay
of course things were not okay
why? because ever since bakugou fully accepted his feelings for you, he doesnt know how to act around you
the other day you asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner cause you were cooking tonight
his answer:
“you”
“umm..”
“-you can make anything you want. i’ll eat whatever.”
that and a lot of other little awkward incidents started occurring
also maybe it was just the weather but he always seemed red whenever you saw him
it wasn’t the weather though
it was him being shy and nervous and flustered
which made bakusquad extremely weirded out cause seeing him like that is like seeing aizawa cheerfully smiling and wearing bright color clothes
it was weird af and was just not right
anyway, mina’s advice to him was to try to get closer to you
“but we’re already close”
“no i mean closer on a personal level. ask her how her day was or ask her random stuff about her likes and dislikes or her hobbies or literally anything”
“oh… ok then”
and so he tried that
he tried getting closer to you by greeting you every morning and sometimes asking you if you slept well
you found it odd
it certainly was odd, but you didn’t mind
if you ask him why he asks about your sleep he just goes red and says he needs to make sure his opponent for his afternoon sparring session is well-rested and healthy
speaking of the sparring sessions…
he asks you to spar more often than usual and actually makes small talk during your breaks
he was also a lot nicer to you, offering to help carry stuff for you and assisting you in the little things
like getting a mug from the kitchen’s high shelves or picking up the pencil you accidentally dropped
what he did worked though and within a few weeks, the two of you got a lot closer
the next step, as mina put it, was “making sure she knew you weren’t interested in her as a friend”
now that was hard for bakugou to do
“it’s not that hard. you could just tell her.”
bakugou: ..??
“basically confess”
bakugou: wha- *shortcircuits*
CONFESSING
he never thought about that
he actually has
he knew in his mind he’d have to do it eventually if he wanted to have you
but he didn’t think it would be *this soon*
“dont think that much and just tell her you like her”
“you’re making it sound easy”
“because it is!”
he groaned internally
he’s faced tons of villains and been in quite the number of fearful situations but the fear he felt now was completely different 
“look if you’re afraid of rejection just confess like this”
*sero clears throat*
“*y/n i like you and i would like to be something more than friends. i’m not going to pressure you into anything so if yoh don’t want to we can just pretend this never happened>:)”
“...”
bakugou ended up confessing the next day though
just not like that
it was a spur of a moment thing and he wasn’t really aware he said it until you responded
the two of you were sparring as usual and you had just gotten close enough to knock him down and pin him to the ground
in that moment you were just so beautiful and amazing and everything and he just couldn’t keep it in apparently 
“i like you”
“w-what?”
“what?”
“did you just say you liked me?”
“like not liked dumbass”
“:o present tense o:”
well long story short, you like him too and you tell him that and you two just sit there grinning like idiots 
from then on things didn’t change much
you and bakugou still talked, although maybe more than usual
and still sparred with each other, although maybe less seriously and more playfully
some were surprised when it became known you were together
some weren’t 
whatever other people thought though, they couldn’t deny one thing:
bakugou looked at you as if you were the world
STAGE ∞︎ ( fallen ) .
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note ; i started writing this soo long ago but then abandoned it cuz thats just me:”] bUT i decided that since its his birthday i might as well finish it up and finally post it u.u,,, also TYSM @animebsposts for helping me with this ily and ur amazing<3
taglist ; ( send ask to be added ! ) @lilikags​
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someonestolemyshoes · 3 years
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So at risk of stepping out of line here are some prompts of many genres for you! I dont know if any of these tickle your fancy.
Hange Survives the rumbling
Magic AU (specifically what would they be skilled or not skilled in. I always picture Hange as being good at illusions and Levi being good at combat magic but best at house hold charms for example)
Zombie apocalypse AU (Levi was a little disgruntled at first to have a tag along but warms up to her pretty quickly and mostly against his better judgement. He is forced to concede having someone to watch his back is nice after she saves his life though )
The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange.
Hange and Levi pranking Erwin in increasingly elaborate ways while keeping their identity a secret. As he gets more and more frustrated.
Just straight up angst with a capitol A
Ive honestly thoroughly enjoyed everything you've written and look forward to seeing more. I dont know etiquette for offering prompts and hope I didnt offer too many. I just thought they sounded cool.
I have saved all of these because there are so many good ideas BUT on this occasion I have decided to write the following: The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange. This was also inspired in part by something @glassesandswords said earlier regarding Levihan and ballroom dancing. There is no (real) dancing, but there is a ballroom.....does that count? 
They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.
Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.
The ballroom was beautiful.
** 
The carriage pulled up in a stone-paved courtyard outside one of the most extravagant buildings Erwin had ever seen. Much like everything else in Sina, money had been thrown about without restraint, to create halls and mansions and castles each bigger and more gaudy than the last. They functioned almost exclusively as a show of wealth, save for the occasional ball or banquet where the space was welcome, and the rich were more than happy to showcase their spoils.
Tonight, this particular hall had the honour of hosting the Benefactors Ball. It was an opportunity for the military factions to rub shoulders with nobility, and garner themselves some additional funding—politicking disguised as polite conversation over glasses of champagne, each one likely costing more than the monthly budget allocated for the Survey Corps as a whole.
Erwin stepped down from the carriage and took in the space. The building was tall, all white stone and huge, arched windows, polished until they shone, reflecting the evening sky. A wide staircase led to a set of great oak doors, thrown open and exposing a glimpse of the entrance hall within. The interior was full of buildings like this, large enough to hold hundreds, but vacant for most of the year, while the people within Wall Rose lived like cattle, penned into cramped houses with one room for a whole family.
Behind him, the carriage creaked as Levi climbed down. He stopped beside Erwin and stared up at the lavish building with his lip curled, his distaste evident. He made no efforts to hide his disgust at the gaudy display of luxury, and did not bother lowering his voice when he said, "stinks like pig shit. Filthy rich bastards can't pay someone to wipe their asses properly?"
Erwin cleared his throat, swallowing the urge to laugh. He perfectly understood Levi's disdain, for the sentiment was widely shared, both throughout the Corps and much of the land outside of the interior. People lived in poverty, struggling to make ends meet and fighting for rations while the rich ate decadent banquets full of more food than they could ever hope to consume, growing fat and idle in their comfort.
To his left, Mike had alighted from the carriage and was busy straightening his suit. He showed less restraint than Erwin, snorting and garnering some scathing looks from the passing attendees. Erwin fixed his face into a pleasant, appeasing smile, and spoke through the side of his mouth. "Better not to insult our company if you want to eat over the winter."
"We're already eating scraps like dogs," Levi protested with a sharp click of his tongue.
"And you'll be eating less than that if they cut our funding. Behave, please."
Mike shrugged a shoulder, unbothered by Erwin's scolding. Levi shot him a scowl, but did not argue and instead turned to talk over his shoulder, barking out. "Oi, four-eyes. The hell is taking so long?"
There was some shuffling inside the carriage. Erwin could hear Hange grumbling to themself inside it, and then their voice called out, somewhat petulantly, "I feel ridiculous."
"We're running late," Erwin said. "Come on."
Hange swore quietly, then sighed. More shuffling  and Erwin heard the carriage stairs creak as Hange climbed their way carefully down them, manoeuvring awkwardly with all the loose fabric around their legs. They stood stiffly beside Levi, adjusting the thin, silk shawl across their shoulders and pulling it over their chest. The neckline of their dress cut too low for their comfort, which Hange had complained about endlessly on the ride here, and the midnight blue fabric fell to brush the tops of their feet, where they had been forced into a pair of flat, thin-soled shoes that were already rubbing the skin of their heels raw.
The dress was very pretty, and in truth, Hange looked very pretty in it, but their discomfort showed painfully in their high, drawn shoulders and slouched posture, curved over themself to make their long, thin frame appear as small as possible.
"I don't see why I couldn't wear a suit like everybody else," Hange said, huffing to blow their fringe out of their face. Nanaba had fixed their hair in a delicate half-up do, a pretty, intricate bun fastened at the back of their head while the rest of their hair fell in loose curls just past their shoulders. Already, they seemed annoyed with it, constantly pushing it away from their face and neck. Mike turned to examine the view and Levi, who had been watching Hange slyly from the corner of his eye, slid his gaze forward and away. Erwin cleared his throat, but made no comment. The organisers had been clear about their dress code requirements—no military decoration, suits for the men and dresses for the women. Hange's military record had decided their fate for the evening, and no amount of arguing or pleading could change that.
After a pregnant pause, Erwin politely held out an arm for Hange, and gave them a somewhat apologetic smile. "Shall we?"
Hange kept their hands to themself. They shook their head and made a vague gesture for Erwin to walk ahead, following closely behind him and Mike, whose combined height and bulk blocked them from view. Erwin felt a little guilty, for forcing Hange to come, and for refusing their multiple requests to dress in something they felt more relaxed in. But Erwin understood well how the benefactors operated, knew that a pretty face in a nice dress had sway where stoic men in suits did not. Hange's frosty attitude towards him was enough to convince him that they understood, too.
They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.
Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.
The ballroom was beautiful. Long tables lined the walls, piled high with more food than they had ever seen in their lives, steaming joints of meat, fresh and tender, and fish, vegetables steamed or roasted and coated in unfamiliar herbs and spices. The combined smell was mouthwatering. Beside him, Mike breathed long and deep through his nose. There was a huge, open floor in the centre of the room where the attendees were mingling, the men dressed in sharp, well-fitted suits and the women draped in elegant dresses, fine jewelry studding their fingers and wrapping their wrists, pearls and gems hanging from their necks. A great, ornate chandelier hung overhead, lit with what felt like hundreds of candles, the firelight ducking and weaving, shimmering from the hanging crystals and casting pretty, shifting shadows on the floor below. On one wall, huge windows ran from ceiling to floor and displayed a well-groomed garden flushed pink in the setting sun, dotted carefully with trimmed bushes and pruned flowers, a great stone fountain set in the centre,
The four of them stood in a line in the open doorway. Erwin observed quickly, efficiently. Many faces were already blushing a little red, from the heat and their full stomachs and the champagne, ferried around the room by waiters carrying trays, darting about the space with choreographed ease. He spotted a few of the key benefactors, those with the fattest wallets, and took note of the drinks in their hands—tumblers of amber liquid, whiskey or brandy from the bar, or else goblets of deep red wine that stained their lips and teeth. A glass or two more and enough sweet, sickly compliments, and Erwin felt confident they could come to some financial agreements.
He turned to look at the others. Mike's expression was neutral, eyes masked by his long fringe, but his posture was relaxed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Levi's eyes had once again roved to one side, where Hange stood, taking in the room with one arm covering their chest, their nails scratching absently at the skin of their neck. Levi clicked his tongue at them and reached up, flicking their knuckles.
"Stop doing that, idiot," Levi said. "You look diseased."
Hange's neck had indeed turned a deep shade of red where their nails had raked at the skin, swelling in thin, raised welts that threatened to split open with much more abuse. Hange pulled the shawl tighter around themself.
"I have a few people I need to speak to," Erwin said. He shot them each a look in turn. "Mingle, but please, stay out of trouble."
Mike nodded. Levi shrugged a shoulder. Hange glared at him, the candlelight catching and glinting off their glasses. Erwin trusted the group, but not completely. Mike had a penchant for dry sarcasm, and Erwin had observed of late that Hange and Levi could make an explosive pair when left to their own devices, equally as volatile whether they were conspiring together or else at each other's throats. Collateral damage within the Corps was easy enough to iron out—traumatised recruits were simple to deal with. Offended benefactors and interior personnel were a whole other matter. Smoothing out Survey Corps relations with their funding parties was a headache Erwin didn't need, if he could help it.
Hange, though, looked ill-equipped for mischief. Erwin couldn't recall a time he had ever heard them seem quiet, or seen them so tense. Of all the soldiers Erwin had ever known, Hange was the most loose, relaxed, with little regard for military hierarchy, no sense of personal space, and a lack of shame so absolute it bordered on admirable. He had never seen Hange so subdued, before. He might have found the reprieve from their usual exuberance peaceful, if not for the itch of guilt that came with it.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it. There were more important matters to attend to, and Erwin took his leave from the group with a stern nod, leaving to greet Pixis and Nile where they were talking politely with some bloated, red-faced nobles.
The evening passed in endless addresses. Erwin flattered his way around the room, speaking humbly with innumerable men, smiling and taking their backhanded compliments with grace while pushing another drink into their greedy hands.
Over the shoulders of one stout man with yellow teeth and breath like tobacco, Erwin caught sight of Mike, dutifully nodding his head as a gaggle of older women flocked around him. He panned his gaze around, searching for his two missing soldiers, until his eyes landed on Hange where they stood near a corner of the room, engaged in awkward looking conversation with a lanky man who seemed to share Hange's usual sentiments about personal space. He was taller than Hange, but had stooped until their faces were close, and in both of his hands he held one of Hange's, stroking over their knuckles as he talked. Hange had a forced smile on their face, but even from this distance Erwin could see the strain in their neck, the tightness in their face, their free hand white-knuckling a fist full of their dress at their side.
Erwin had known Hange long enough to understand the concentrated effort with which they were holding back. He would have to thank them later, for not causing a scene, but he could have hardly blamed them if they had. As he watched, the man brought one hand up to Hange's hair, following a loose curl from the crown of their head, past their cheek, and to their shoulder, where his fingertips danced lightly at their collar. Hange's face was pale in their anger, and Erwin was mentally preparing the kind of speeches he'd have to give to excuse Hange's indiscretion, when a figure appeared at their side offering a glass of champagne. Erwin's brows rose.
Levi had come out of nowhere. He pressed the glass insistently at Hange, who quickly pulled both of their hands free to take it. Their admirer looked sufficiently displeased by the interruption, straightening to his full height and looking down his nose at Levi. Levi stared back impassively, gaze unwavering as Hange spoke, gesturing towards Levi, and Erwin watched with some smug satisfaction as introductions were made, and the sleazy old man realised exactly who had joined their conversation.
He stuck around for only a moment, before taking his leave. Hange watched him go, then visibly sagged in place, taking a long gulp from the delicate flute and bringing their hand up to their throat. Levi said something that made Hange laugh. Their smile was small and the shake of their shoulders was slight, but it was genuine. Levi slapped weakly at Hange's hand—they had been scratching again, the skin of their neck red and irritated. He took the champagne flute from their hand and drank the rest, depositing the empty glass on a nearby table and pulling a face, running his tongue over his teeth. Hange laughed again, a little brighter this time, some delight reflected in their face as they watched Levi's twisted expression, and when Levi said something that looked suspiciously like piss off, they laughed loud enough that Erwin could just hear it. Levi nudged at Hange's ribs with his elbow and Hange grabbed onto his arm, wriggling away. When Levi stopped his prodding, Hange didn't let go of him. And then the crowd shifted, a throng of men heading towards the bar, obscuring Levi and Hange from his view.
Huh.
That was interesting.
Levi had been with them for just over two years now. He had opened up very little in that time, remained almost as stoic and distant as he had been when he had first been recruited. He spoke little, and what conversation he did make was always rude and often perfunctory, coaxed into short, one-word answers or non-committal grunts. He dealt with Erwin because he had to. He tolerated Mike due to proximity alone—where Erwin went, Mike was never far behind.
His forbearance of Hange was more confusing.
There was no real need for them to spend much time together. Outside of meetings and events like these, compulsory gatherings where Erwin preferred to bring his most trusted subordinates, the pair of them were never required to be in each other's company. He'd had no doubt that Hange would be pushy; they were fascinated by Levi and had been since the beginning, keen to observe as much as they could, to understand and employ whatever technique it was that allowed Levi to move so quickly, to fight so efficiently. He had been unsurprised to see Hange hovering around Levi shortly after their first mission together—"like a fly on horse shit," Levi had said—and it had been no shock to him at all that Levi's dismissal had fallen on deaf ears.
But time had passed, and despite Levi's constant grumbles and complaints, seeing the two of them together had become an increasingly familiar sight.
Things weren't always amiable. There was a lot of bickering, loud disagreements where Hange would whinge and push and prod and Levi's anger would build until he was steaming, and there had on one occasion been a physical fight, the kind of feral scuffling in the dirt usually reserved for children. Erwin had broken that up himself after battling to the centre of a watching crowd, and the pair of them had sat down across from him at his desk, their faces resolutely turned in opposite directions, their hair and clothes coated in dusty, dry soil, with  swelling bruises on their cheeks and split skin on their knuckles. They pointed fingers, each laying the blame squarely on the other, and neither had admitted the root cause. Erwin eventually dismissed them with a headache, and demanded that whatever their issue was, they resolve it—civilly. He had wholly expected another scrap, but had been pleasantly surprised at finding the pair of them sitting together in the mess hall that evening—they were arguing about Hange's ludicrous notion to capture a titan when he had passed them, Levi jabbing his fork at Hange's hand when they slyly reached for his bread, but there was a familiar light in Hange's eyes, one that told him this argument, at least for now, was not serious.
Erwin had been pleasantly surprised to see a similar expression reflected on Levi's usually flat, stoic face. He had ripped his bread loaf in two, and dropped half of it silently onto Hange's plate as he told them, "for the last damn time, no."
Levi afforded Hange for more leniency than he did to anybody else. He would pull a face when Hange threw an arm around his shoulder, but he never pushed them away anymore. He'd grumble if Hange dropped next to him on Erwin's sofa and wriggled their does under his thighs for warmth, curse them for putting their dirty feet on the furniture, but it had been a long time now since Levi had knocked their feet back to the floor. He would badger them relentlessly about their greasy hair or the dirt under their nails, and in the same breath he would tug on their ponytail, his fingers sinking easily into the knotted, unkempt hair.
And now, this—Levi barely tolerated using communal utensils, opting often to clean his own cutlery before eating. To drink directly from the same glass as anyone, let alone Hange, who Levi notoriously butted heads with over their personal hygiene, was unimaginable. And yet.
Erwin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name, and turned back to his companion, falling easily into conversation once more.
The evening dragged on. The sky outside the great windows was full dark, the stone fountain pale in the moonlight. The water shimmered, dark and spotted with the light from the stars. Erwin's throat was dry and sore from talking, but he felt satisfied—he had secured plenty of meetings to negotiate funding, enough that he wasn't all too worried that they would inevitably lose a few offers when the alcohol wore off.
He found Mike near the bar, finally alone. Erwin crossed to him and greeted him with a nod, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar beside Mike to enjoy it.
"Calling it a success?" Mike asked. Erwin hummed.
"I think so. I'll wait until we are safely back at the barracks before I say for certain."
Mike snorted quietly into his glass. He was sipping from a glass of fragrant whiskey, something deep and smoky. Erwin took another mouthful from his water.
"And you?" Erwin asked. "Would you call it a successful evening?"
Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "A very lovely lady left me her address. She insisted I write to her."
Erwin's lip quirked. He hid it behind his glass. "Will you?"
Mike shrugged. "Maybe. I figure she might leave me a big fat inheritance if I do."
Erwin chuckled, and looked about the room.
The crowd had thinned some, and those who remained spoke in loud, slurred voices that sounded over the lazy music played by the band. They stood around in small clusters, picking at the plentiful food and chugging down their drinks, bellies swollen behind shirts bursting at the seams. Pigs ready for slaughter, if it weren't for the work of people like them, who put their lives on the line for humanity every time they set foot into titan territory.
Mike elbowed him. Erwin hummed, and Mike nodded his head towards a corner of the room. "How's that for a success?"
Many of the candles in the chandelier had gone out, leaving the room with a smoky haze and the lights lower than before, a warm orange glow that barely reached the corners. Hange had sat themself on the corner of one of the tables, their feet dangling a little way off the floor as they drank from another glass of champagne. Their shawl had been replaced with Levi's jacket, buttoned just over their chest to cover them, and they had kicked off their shoes, bare feet swinging back and forth as they drank. Their hair had been thrown up into its customary ponytail, messy and shaggy at the back of their head. They looked much more like Hange, more relaxed, more comfortable.
Levi stood close beside them, his hip cocked against the table edge, Hange's shawl folded neatly and draped over his arm. The pair of them were talking between themselves, observing the room—Hange kept snickering, and Levi kept hiding his own smile with his champagne glass. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink, noticeable even with the distance. Hange twisted their head to look at Levi, still laughing, and reached up idly to fuss with his hair. Levi continued talking to Hange as though they hadn't touched him, his eyes glued to their face as they broke into a loud, tinkling laugh, the kind that carried like windchimes over the rest of the noise. Levi's eyes were a little wide, brows relaxed out of his customary frown, and his lips were a little parted as he stared openly at Hange.
"You think he knows he looks at Hange like they put the sun in the sky?" Mike said. Erwin laughed and shook his head.
Whatever Hange said next must have been teasing. Their lips spread in a sly smile, showing teeth, and their eyes pinched behind their glasses. They leaned a little further into Levi's space, and Erwin noticed Hange's leg drift sideways, their toes brushing against Levi's calf. Whatever Hange said made Levi grimace, but he put no distance between them. One of his hands settled on Hange's knee as he leaned even closer, and the other came up between their faces to pinch at Hange's nose. He shook their face back and forth until Hange brought their hands up and wrapped them around Levi's wrist. Levi relinquished his hold, and Hange lowered their hands down into their lap, playing with Levi's fingers as they fell back into conversation.
Levi put no distance between them. Erwin and Mike watched the pair of them, watched as Levi swayed even further into Hange's space, his fringe brushing against Hange's brow. Hange was watching him curiously, their head tipped a little to one side—Levi initiating any kind of proximity must have been new, even to Hange, but they didn't seem at all bothered by his closeness.
Mike let out a low whistle. "Little street rat has a soft spot."
Erwin gave Mike a warning look, and Mike raised his hand in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just surprised to see the captain has feelings, is all."
"It's that hard to believe?" Erwin said. "He cared a lot about his friends, too. He has a heart."
"Somewhere."
Erwin rolled his eyes. Levi and Hange were still standing close, and Levi looked very much like he was debating something in his head. His eyes flicked over Hange's face, and his fingers curled slowly around Hange's, gripping one of their hands in his. Erwin found himself holding his breath, watching them, waiting with a childishly eager anticipation. As their superior, Erwin certainly shouldn't encourage interpersonal relationships between his soldiers—but they were his friends, too. If they could afford themselves a moment of happiness in this hellish world, Erwin wouldn't stop them. Not for one night.
And then Hange's eyes flicked their way. They grinned widely, turning their face and lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically across the room. Unthinking of their attire, Hange bent a knee up and braced one of their heels on the table edge, exposing entirely too much skin to the remaining patrons in the room.
Erwin waved calmly back. Mike raised his glass. Levi stepped out of Hange's space, pausing only to pull a face and silently drape Hange's shawl over their lap, to cover them where the dress had ridden up their leg. He slipped his hand out of Hange's and jammed it instead into his pocket, and shook his fringe over his eyes, looking at Erwin and Mike through it. His scowl was back in place, but the colour in his cheeks had intensified.
Hange spoke to Levi, then hopped off the table grabbed his hand again, turning backwards to keep a hold of his hand as he bunched up their shawl and scooped to pick up Hange's shoes, dangling them from his fingers as Hange dragged him barefoot across the ballroom floor. Levi followed behind, caught helplessly in Hange's wake. In the middle of the floor Hange paused, and turned to him so quickly the hem of their dress rose, twirling around their legs. Whatever they said made Levi shake his head, and then shake it again, more firmly, but Hange laughed that bright, tinkling laughter and held the skirt of their dress in their spare hand, dipping into an exaggerated curtsey. Erwin wasn't sure what had done it, whether it was the alcohol or the jacket covering them up, or perhaps it was simply the presence of good company, but Hange was behaving more like themself again, bubbly and alive, and Levi was as ever their hopeless victim, cringing when Hange spun themself down the length of his arm, paused briefly with their body pressed tight against his chest, and then back out again, teetering on their toes to keep their balance. 
They tried valiantly to coax Levi into a few off-beat steps, moving to a rhythm Erwin couldn’t identify. They smile was bright, their face pleasantly read, and they were wholly unbothered by Levi’s lack of commitment. Levi looked at them sternly, but the threat of it was lost in the bright red flush of his cheeks.
"You're no fun, Levi!" They whined, close enough now that Erwin could hear them. Levi clicked his tongue.
"You're acting like an idiot."
"I'm having fun," Hange said, tugging on Levi's hand. "You should try it! You might like it."
"Brat."
Hange grinned as though he had complimented them. Levi's lips twitched, but he held back any urge to smile and curled his lip in a snarl instead, hitting Hange's leg lightly with their shoes and urging them to start walking again. Hange saluted him and together they crossed the rest of the distance and stopped before Erwin and Mike. Hange kept a casual hold on Levi's hand and Levi made no move to part from them, but he glared at Mike and Erwin as though daring them to say something. Mike smirked, and Levi flushed deeper, but his grip tightened around Hange's fingers.
"Are we done?" Hange asked. Erwin nodded. "Good. My feet are killing me—who the hell designed shoes like? And I’m tired of creepy old men—which reminds me,” Hange reached into the top of their dress and pulled out a handful of napkins, which they handed over to Erwin. “These perverts seemed pretty eager to spare a pretty penny for a nice young lady like myself.” Hange pulled a face as they said it. “I can't wait to get this dress off."
Erwin noted with interest the way Levi's eyes slid to Hange, roving down the length of their body and up again.
Mike downed the last of his drink. "Finally," he said, stretching and following as Erwin led them towards the door.
"Tired after wagging your tail for all those grandma's?"
Hange snickered, and Levi's mouth pulled into half a smile. Mike, unaffected by the jab, only grinned.
"Exhausted. What about you, though? Eager to head back and pop some pain killers?"
"Hah?"
Mike's grin widened. He leaned closer to Levi, and Erwin had to strain his ears to hear him.
"I heard being whipped hurts."
This time, Levi did let go of Hange's hand. Quickly.
There was a carriage waiting for them outside. Erwin took the stairs quickly, eager to sit and rest for the duration of the journey back to the barracks. He opened the door and turned, waiting to let the others in, but only Mike was behind him. Levi and Hange were still at the top of the stairs, Hange holding Levi's shoulders for balance as they slipped back into their shoes. Their face was curled in a pained grimace as they descended the stairs and Levi was watching them closely, one of his hands hovering at their back. Mike looked delighted as they approached, and took great pleasure in offering Hange his hand to help them into the carriage before Levi could. He climbed in and sat beside Hange, leaving Levi to take the seat opposite them. Once they were seated, Erwin knocked on the box, and the driver urged the horses on.
Hange sighed loudly. They kicked off their shoes again, and dumped their feet into Levi's lap.
"Oi," Levi said, though there was no malice behind it. Hange wiggled their toes until Levi closed his hand around Hange's foot, thumb digging into the arch with practiced ease. Hange sighed happily and slumped in their seat.
Mike made a show of sniffing the air, and pulled a face. "Smells weird in here."
"Like what?" Hange asked sluggishly. They had let their eyes drift closed as Levi worked absently on their foot, the buzz from the champagne mellowing in the darkness of the cab.
Mike sniffed again. "Horny teenagers."
Levi's ministrations paused briefly, thumb and fingers stilling until Hange made an impatient sound and lifted their foot, shaking it in his face.
"Fuck off," he hissed, but continued. Hange poked out their tongue and gave him a satisfied grin, then rolled their head towards Mike.
"I think your nose is broken," Hange said. "'S probably just my feet."
"They do reek," Levi added. Hange sunk right the way down in their seat and pushed both feet at Levi's face this time, dodging his grabbing hands and wrestling with him when he caught ahold of them, until he slammed both of their feet back into his lap, victorious, and pinned them down by the ankles. Hange's face was a little flushed from the exertion and their laughter was breathless. Levi looked a little triumphant, eyes alight with something like humour.
Levi was having fun.
Erwin tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
"I don't know, Hange," he said, smiling. "I think Mike might be onto something."  
179 notes · View notes
andromedasstarship · 4 years
Note
i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻
80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”
send a prompt + character from this list! 
pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader
warnings - stress?? mostly fluff 
a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!
Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.
Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.
To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.
Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.
Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.
Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.
Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.
You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.
You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.
“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.
“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”
You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 
“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.
Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.
“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”
You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.
“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.
“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.
You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.
“Are you okay-”
“Yes! I just don’t-”
“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”
“There’s nothing wrong-”
“Do you need to stay-”
“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.
Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.
“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
---
The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.
“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.
You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.
Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.
“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.
“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.
“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.
“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”
The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.
“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”
Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.
It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.
Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.
You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.
“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”
This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.
“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever
You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”
“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.
“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”
He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”
“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!
“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.
“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”
“I don’t want to hear it-”
“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.
“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!
“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”
“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.
You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.
You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.
“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”
You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.
---
permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings
309 notes · View notes
lawslessons · 3 years
Text
A Healing Touch (Law x Reader)
“It just takes one touch, and then you’ll know in an instant that they’re the one for you. They’ll be the one that heals you...”
Hello, dears! I hope you all enjoy this! This is the letter N from the soulmate list, nursing! The premise is that a touch from your soulmate is enough to heal any ailment, any illness forever. Because of my school work load and some health issues, I may be publishing less just to take care of myself. Thank you for understanding. Love you all!
Modern! Au
Warnings: Terminal/Chronic illness, medical devices, mentions of death
Synopsis: It had been years since they had first found out they were sick. Another broken down van and another hospital trip for them to hear news they already knew before: Their illness was chronic and slowly becoming worse as time went on. But one faithful encounter with a certain doctor may be enough to change their path for the better. 
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“How many years has it been since we found out you had this? Seven? Eight?” Nami asked with a small sigh as she sat with her friend on the small chair that was by the hospital bed. Her friend smiled and shook their head.
“Ten,” Ten softly said as they looked up at the ceiling as the IV in their skin slowly inserted the fluids into their system. Their eyes were somewhat dull and the bags had become more prominent from the lack of sleep these past couple of days and the serious lack of nutrition.
“The feeding tube doesn’t look comfortable,” Nami winced as she looked at the tube inside of her friend’s nose. They laughed and smiled at Nami with an affectionate smile on their face.
“You’re right, it isn’t. But I need this, I haven’t been able to keep food down in days,” they pointed out as they looked at the monitors that were next to them and saw all the vitals they were presenting. “I’m sick of being in these damn hospitals all the time though,” They said as they rubbed their face in some frustration. “I want to be able to go back and explore and have fun with you and the gang again. This is just ridiculous at this point, I’m holding you guys back,” They frowned. Nami frowned with them and moved to hold onto their hand and squeeze it.
“No, no you’re not. You can’t control your illness, no one blames you for that. Besides, maybe we can finally find a doctor here that can actually give more answers inside of just giving you fluids,” Nami sighed, the woman read the look on her friend’s face and saw that they weren’t as confident as she was in having answers so soon for this illness.
“Maybe, I’m not sure,” they sighed. “It’s getting harder each time I’m stuck here,” they said as they looked at their wrist with the numerous hospital bands on it. Nami watched the light beginning to fade from her friend’s eyes and it broke her heart just a little more.
“We can look for another — “ Nami was quickly cut off by a knock on the door and someone opening the door.
“Is this (Y/N)?” A gruff and tired voice asked as he started to look through his tablet. Part of his face was obscured by his blue mask, but they were able to see some tattoos on his hands as he typed some vital work on his tablet. “I’m the immunology specialist here, I’m here on a special consult for your case,” He said as he checked the fluids being given to them and typed some more.
“What’s your name?” Nami asked.
“Doctor Law,” The man said as he stepped back from the vital machines and looked over at Nami and her friend for a brief second. “Alright, I’m starting you on a new course of antibiotics and we’re going to take some blood samples to get some tests run,” he said as he looked up from his tablet. “Any questions?” It didn’t look like he wanted to ask that, it seemed as if he was forced to ask that out of obligation for his job. They knew that, so they knew better than to ask, but Nami didn’t seem to know that.
“How do you know that you need to start them on something new? You didn’t even do an exam,” she pointed out.
“I don’t need to,” The doctor shrugged, and they sighed at that.
“Nami, it’s alright. It’s not like he’s going to find anything new about my condition anyways,” they sighed. But the moment the words left their lips, they regretted it. Law visibly scowled and he looked away from the two who were in the room with him.
“Excuse me. I need to check on some other patients now,” he said before he went to leave the room a bit rigidly. They both watched as Law left the room and winced when the door was closed a bit roughly behind him. Silence ensued for a moment before Nami began to snicker and laugh.
“Why did you say that? I don’t think it’s a good idea to make your doctor mad,” Nami teased. They rolled their eyes and smiled at their friend.
“It’s whatever, he know’s I’m right. No doctor has been able to figure this out, what makes him think he’s so special?” They asked. Nami had to admit that what they were saying was true, she had even seen this play out in other cities and other hospitals throughout the country. They continued to talk for a few more hours before a nurse came in to inform Nami that it was time for her to leave.
“I’ll see you in the morning, alright?” Nami assured her friend as the nurses changed her friend’s medication and wrote some notes down for the doctor who as working on her friend’s case.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” they smiled before they started to drift off to sleep from the heavy doses of the new medication they were now on. They slept for a while until they heard something fall down in their room. They stirred in their sleep and tiredly rubbed their eyes to look up at who was in their room. Their eyes met gray ones and for a moment, the world was still between them.
“Sorry, I dropped my pen,” Law softly said as he picked up his tablet’s pen and pocketed it and looked down at the person who was staring at him. “I’m sorry that I woke you up,” he said as he awkwardly took a step back.
“Why are you here?” They asked.
“I’m checking your levels. You had low sugar and your pulse was low too,” Law explained as he looked at the monitor again. “Your levels are leveling out now, but I’m going to need you to stay here for a few more days for observation. I looked through your medical history and it would put me at ease if you stayed here,” Law said as he looked down at them again. They smirked and shook their head.
“Put you at ease?” They teased. Law scoffed and looked away.
“You know what I mean. I’m waiting on some of your tests results to come back, you know by now how slow the labs can be,” Law casually said as he looked at his tablet again. They were surprised, was he really trying to make conversation with them?
“I do know, I’ve been in and out of hospitals for ten years,” They shared. Law looked over at them and seemed to be giving them more of his attention so they could elaborate. “I was pretty young, like fourteen? Fifteen? I can’t remember, the years are blending together at this point. Anyways, I was just at school and suddenly I wasn’t. Suddenly I couldn’t stomach milk, gluten, anything. And then I felt like I was constantly on fire, I found out I was having an allergic reaction to the air freshener in my house. And when we went to the hospital, we found out that my organs were starting to shut down from how intense the reaction was. More than me being scared, my friends were terrified. My best friend Nami cried so much, we missed prom together with our other friends because of this,” They shared. And before they even knew it, Law pulled up a chair next to them and they spent the rest of the night talking, they honestly would’ve talked longer if it wasn’t for Law’s pager going off.
“I need to take this, I’ll see you later then,” He said before he had to stand up and leave. For the time they were talking to one another, they didn’t feel sick. But the second he was out of the room, their stomach started to turn and churn rather uncomfortably inside of them. They tried to get as much rest as they could before Nami and the rest of the crew came in with masks on.
“Hello! Did you sleep well?” Nami asked as she sat down next to her friend.
“Well — “ “Oi, there was someone weird standing by the door,” Luffy said as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and Zoro pointed at the door.
“Was he tall? Dark hair and with tattoos?” They asked, this emphasis on details didn’t seem to slip by Nami or Robin for that matter.
“Yeah, he was,” Usopp said while they felt their face grow a little more flushed.
“Why don’t you guys go see what’s in the cafeteria while me and Robin talk to them?” Nami suggested. And before anyone could protest, Luffy began to laugh and grab his friend’s by their hands and drag them out of the room to check out the hospital food. “Ok, so what happened after I left? I missed a lot,” Nami pouted while Robin chuckled next to her.
“I didn’t sleep that much last night,” they began before explaining with an embarrassed smile what they and Law had talked about in the night. By the end, Nami had a big smile plastered across her face.
“You like your doctor, don’t you?” Nami teased.
“Hush! No I don’t. I haven’t even known him that long,” they defended.
“I don’t believe that is a good criteria to measure it by,” Robin said with a small smile. Nami nodded in agreement before she pointed an accusatory finger at her friend.
“You’re avoiding the truth because you’re scared! You like him, and that’s ok to admit,” Nami tried to assure them. They looked a little hesitant, they brought their legs up to their chest and sighed.
“I am scared, I will admit that. I’m scared because I haven’t liked someone since I’ve gotten sick and I’m worried about what may happen if I were to one day… you know…” The trio went silent at that and all of their minds began to spin.
“Maybe that won’t happen,” Robin hopefully said, being hopeful like this wasn’t like her, so Nami knew that her friend had more to explain. “There’s this phenomenon where soulmates are able to cure each other of their ailments when they’re finally together,” she explained. Their jaw dropped and they quickly looked away.
“First you say I like him and now you’re saying soulmates? Isn’t that a bit much?” They softly asked. “I mean, I don’t think that’s possible, things like that happen in fairytales to royals, and I am not a royal. I am a regular person who is sick and dying,” a wave of sadness dropped over all of them at their words.
“Dying…?” Nami found herself asking her dear friend. They looked up at the ceiling and sighed softly.
“I’m tired of fighting,” They admitted. They heard the gasp of shock from Nami and could feel the frown from Robin, but that didn’t deter them. “There’s no point if there isn’t a cure. Every time I’m forced to be in a hospital, I get better for a few weeks and then I’m back and I’m worse than before,” their hands grabbed at the blankets as tears began to well into their eye’s. “I’m so tired of all this pain, it never ends…”
A few hours later, Nami and the rest of the group left when a nurse scolded them all for being too loud. When their friends were gone, they found themselves stuck in their own thought again. With their knees at their chest, a flood of negative emotions dropped over them and threatened to drown them before a voice seemed to pull them out of the water.
“I got your lab tests back,” He said as he closed the door behind himself and moved to be standing at the edge of his bed. “As you probably expect, the results aren’t good,” They scoffed at that and turned away from him. Why did he have to be so blunt? Couldn’t he read the situation. “But, I can do something about then,” Law shared as he tried to get them to look at him. He sighed and moved back to be a safe distance away before he pulled his mask down. When they saw his full face, their face went a soft shade of pink. Of course he had to be even more attractive, how was this even possible? “Are you listening to me?“ Law scowled, they quickly snapped out of their little day dream and nodded their head.
“Yes.”
“Anyways,” he sighed in some annoyance. “I need you to trust me,” He then said.
“Why? I don’t even know you that well,” They pointed out. Even though they talked all night, that wasn’t near enough time to get to know who he really was.
“You don’t know me? So what? I need you to trust in my medical skills,” Law sounded a little disappointed but they didn’t seem to care as much. After their talk with Robin and Nami earlier, their mind had been in one spot the entire night.
“And what if I refuse to go through with your treatment?” They asked.
“Your prognosis isn’t good,” Law looked dumbfound that they were even considering refusing his treatment, his advice. “I can only promise you weeks. Maybe a month.” They went quiet at that. The sobering thought of dying from their illness hit them. They didn’t even realize that it had gotten this bad until now.
“A month is all I need,” They finally said as they looked up at Law with a serious and content expression on their face.
“What?” Law asked in a small whisper. Were they being serious? A month? Was that all they really wanted?
“What is living if I’m stuck living in a hospital for another ten years? I would rather live one more month on the road with my friends. Our van is almost fixed, soon we can hit the road again. When it’s done, I want to leave here and live out the rest of my life,” They stated. Law looked absolutely appalled by what they were saying, while he never got involved with patient matters, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to them.
“No.” Law stated. His hands balled into fists and he glared down at the person in front of him. “You didn’t even listen to what I had to say, do you want to die that badly? Why?” Law asked. They didn’t seem to deny that, they knew that they were rejected Law’s suggestion without even listening to him.
“Do you think this is living? Laying down in a hospital bed? Not being able to eat? Crying constantly because of the pain? This isn’t living, this is hell. I’m in hell, Law,” They bluntly stated. “I just want to see heaven even if it’s only for a month, I’d give anything for that,” They admitted with tears freely flowing from their cheeks at this point. That caught Law off guard, he wasn’t expecting there to be tears. He never knew how to handle people who were crying.
“You’re right, that isn’t living,” Law agreed, “But I said I could help you, I just need you to trust me,” Law said as he put his mask on again and moved closer to them. “Do you think you can grow to trust me?” Law asked as he looked down at the patient in their bed. They looked up at Law and felt more tears burst out of them, they were overwhelmed with all the information they were given in one night.
“I’ll try,” They mumbled through their tears. Law sighed in relief and moved to stand back by the door again. If anything, they were only going through this just for Law and to appease him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Law said before he left.
The next day, the rigid treatment began. It involved Law personally giving injections to them along with fluids and more medications. He spent most of his time in their room over the next few days, and he even had to admit that he had grown attached to them the more time he spent around them. This was bad, wasn’t it? Even the nurses were talking about it.
“Doctor Law is going in there again.”
“I heard he was only here for a consult, but now he’s staying! Why is that?”
“Do you think he likes them?”
Law did his best to ignore all the words from his coworkers, but the more they spoke, the more Law reflected on his actions and the more he realized he was falling for them. Shit.
Days turned into weeks and soon they were two weeks into the process and they seemed to be doing much better than they previously were doing. And Law was too. In the nights, he would grab himself a coffee and go off to the room where they always were in and talked to them about his day at work and would hear about the shenanigans that were happening with their friends. He learned about their whole crew, Luffy was the head of their adventure and then there was Zoro, Sanji and so many others that sounded interesting. They even had a medical student traveling with them named Chopper, it sounded so fascinating to him.
“So, what’s the prognosis now? Think I’ll be better soon?” They asked Law with a hopeful look on their face. Law felt his chest tighten as they began to smile at the poor doctor.
“You should be better soon, you’re doing really good with your blood work and soon we’ll be able to give you real food,” Law explained. “What would you want to eat first?” Law found himself asking before a long conversation began between the two of them. His heart felt so, so warm, he could feel it beating even behind his eyes when he looked at them.
“Law?” They asked, “Is something wrong?” God, stop looking at me like that, Law pleaded in his head with no avail.
“No, no, you’re all good,” he assured them.
While they were at first making some progress health wise, the results that came in today were worrying Law.
“How are they that low? Why is their body rejecting the medicine now?” Law asked himself as he looked over the scans. This continued on for another three days. More tests, more worrying results and more worrying signs from them. Slurred speech, low energy, it was getting harder for them to breathe too and it was terrifying Law. Their friends were even more worried.
“Tra-guy, what’s happening?” Luffy asked with a small frown, he looked ta his friend through the window that was there and then at the taller doctor.
“I…I don’t know,” Law finally admitted. “I don’t know.” He felt like a massive failure, after all he made a promise to them to make them better. “You guys should go home now, it’s getting late. I’ll call you if I have any updates,” Law said as he looked into the window and sighed. He knew it was a mistake to get this attached to them. He knew it was farther than just being attached, he had fallen for them. Hard. It was late in the night when alarms started to blare near his area.
“Code Blue!” A nurse shouted as she stared to run with a crash cart to an all too familiar room. Law felt his heart drop while he was running, he slowed down and stopped in front of the room.
“Doctor Law! We need your help!” Another nurse shouted as she grabbed his hand and dragged the stunned doctor into the room. Law felt like he was having an out of body experience none of this felt real to him.
“Give me the paddles, now!” Law shouted as he was handed the paddles and quickly got them activated. He placed them on their chest and took in a deep breath, “Clear!” Their chest rose with the shock but their heart was still stagnant. “Charge to one-fifty!” He ordered as he looked at their tired face, God he couldn’t lose them. He couldn’t. “Clear!” Another shock, and then another and another. Soon he had to be pulled back by the nurses to stop with the paddles. “No, no no!” Law shouted as he looked down at them, the person he fell for. The nurses started to clear the room and soon Law was left alone with them.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Law whispered out as he looked them over, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I love you…” He finally said through his tears. His hand went to their cold cheek and he gently caressed the smooth skin. The second his skin touched theirs for the first time, sparks shot through him. Under his fingers, their skin began to warm up and soon their heart began to beat once again. Law pulled back in shock as they seemingly come back to life.
“Y-you’re alive?” Law said in disbelief as he watched them gasp for air and cough.
“What happened...?” They asked, Law laughed and quickly moved to hug them close to his chest on the bed as tears continued to stream down his cheeks like a pitiful river.
“I thought I lost you,” Law said as he finally pulled back and gained his composure back. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” they tiredly teased.
“I don’t want to,” Law said after a minute, they both looked into each other’s eyes and felt the sparks once again.
“I don’t want to either,” They admitted as they leaned in and rested their forehead against Law’s. Law softly smiled and gently ran his fingers through their hair. Law looked into their eyes and slowly leaned in to kiss them. Their lips connecting together felt so natural and raw and law began to feel his heart speed up even after he had broken their kiss.
“I need to run some tests now,” Law said as he gently cupped their cheek in his hand and smiled. “I’ll be back soon, I need to tell the nurses,” He said as he pressed a small kiss on their temple and moved to get some more of the tests run.
“What do you mean they’re cured?” Nami asked in disbelief as she looked at their friend who was standing, walking and acting carefree.
“We don’t know how it happened, but they’re all better now,” One of the doctors said in some disbelief.
“All thanks to Law,” They chuckled as they moved to stand by Nami and smiled.
“Oh! Speaking of him, aren’t you going to grab him so he can come with us?” Nami asked while Luffy nodded his head.
“Yeah! I want Tra-guy to come with us,” Luffy pouted. They laughed at that and smiled, for the first time in weeks, months, they were feeling better. And this was a different kind of better, a cured sort of better. They went over to one of the nurses and smiled at them.
“Is Doctor Law here?” They asked, the nurse looked at them with a bit of an uneasy expression on their face.
“Him? Oh, he left early this morning, I think he has to return back to his other hospital,” the nurse explained. They stood there with a shocked and hurt look on their face. He left? Why did he leave? Why would he want to leave? They silently nodded their head and moved to go back to their friends, but they did their best to smile. Did Law lie to them? Was he just messing with them this entire time?
“He left, but it’s ok. I think it’s time for us to leave too,” They said as they started to lead the way out of the hospital. The group of friends all looked at one another with an unsure look on their face, but they knew better than to question them about it. When they went outside, Franky stood by their nice van with a big smile on his face.
“All ready to hit the road again?” Franky asked, the group all did their best to smile with him. The group of friends looked at their now healed friend and watched as they did their best to smile/
“Yes, I think — “ They were cut off when a tan, warm hand was placed on their shoulder.
“You going to leave without me?” Law whispered to them. They quickly turned over their shoulder and looked at him in shock.
“Law! You’re here! I thought you left,” They said as he pulled Law into a heartfelt hug. Law awkwardly smiled and rubbed their back before he pulled away and gently ruffled their hair.
“I did leave, I left the hospital, I’m taking a small break for now, I need to make sure that you’re doing alright and that nothing will happen to you,” Law explained as a small blush appeared on his cheeks. He moved to used his fuzzy hat to try and hide it, but they stopped him by placing a hand on his cheek. They smiled and gently moved to press a small kiss on his cheek that left the man breathless.
“Come with us, Law,” They said before they looked back at the rest of the group, everyone behind them smiled and seemed to be on board with this idea. Law looked at them all and watched as they all came forward and tried to bring him in closer.
“Yes! A new friend!” Luffy cheered.
“Welcome to our team, Tra-guy,” Sanji smiled as he stubbed out his cigarette on the concrete. They held onto both of Law’s hands and squeezed them with this new found confidence and strength. It was all thanks to Law, they both looked into each other’s eyes and smiled at one another and knew this was the beginning of something special, a new life together. Not only that, but their crew as well, them being so accepting and warm to him made his heart clench in an amazing way, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he could be this happy.
“Thanks,” Law smiled as he squeezed their hand, he could get used to these guys. Anything for them.
143 notes · View notes
cluster-fandom · 4 years
Text
Not the day for this
Atsumu, Oikawa, and Noya prank their S/O on a bad day
Warnings: Swearing, food/eating || hospital mention, knife mention, stitches mention, and getting a cut in Noya’s (nothing descriptive just the words themselves)
A/N: This is my first time writing for multiple characters! I enjoyed this a lot 
I was heavily inspired by @kybabi​ !! Go check them out if you haven’t before :)
Atsumu
• Today was not your day at all
• You had failed a test and got in an argument with your best friend
• So all you really wanted to do was come home to your boyfriend and relax
• Unfortunately Atsumu was not aware of how your day had been going
• You both liked to poke fun at each other and this time Atsumu had planned what he thought was an amazing prank
• He couldn’t wait for you to get home
You were driving home from university to your shared apartment with Atsumu. Between the frustration of scoring low a test you had studied so hard for and getting into a dumb fight with one of your best friends, you were ready to snap. The heat didn’t help anything either. At the very least you got to come home to Atsumu. The thought of being wrapped up in your boyfriends arms had kept you from lashing out at anyone that came in contact with you.
You two had been together for over a year and while he could be insufferable at times, you adored him. He was always making you laugh through his ridiculousness, and you were the same. But your favorite memories were when he looked at you with that lopsided grin and said that he loved you.
As you walked up to your front door you noticed it was slightly open.
‘Did Atsumu forget to close the door?’ You briefly wonder before going inside where it was cool.
“Ats-OH MY GOD!”
You were drenched in ice water and the bucket that had been sitting on the door clanked to the floor.
“HEY BABE I THOUGHT YOU COULD USE SOME COOLING OFF!” Atsumu grinned, finding his prank hilarious.
“FUCKING HELL ATSUMU THIS WAS NOT WHAT I NEEDED TODAY!” You yell as you shake your arms of water.
You shove past him towards the bathroom where you could get a towel and hairdryer.
“Wait wait wait! It was just a joke I’m sorry!” He’s fumbling over his words in confusion.
He follows you into the bathroom where you were shoving things out of the way to get your hairdryer out of the cabinet.
“Babe- I’m sorry I didn’t know you’d be mad!” He whines.
You ignore him as you try to (unsuccessfully) untangle the cord of your hairdryer.
“God-dammit-“ you mumble as you only end up getting it more tangled.
“Do you want me to hel-“
“NO ATSUMU IVE GOT IT!” You snap at him.
“Why are you so mad?” He’s genuinely confused. You’ve never been this mad at a prank before?? And this wasn’t even the worst one he’s done-
“I DONT KNOW MAYBE ITS BECAUSE IM DRENCHED AND FREEZING FUCKING COLD? JUST- LEAVE ME ALONE RIGHT NOW!” You’re just done with everything and Atsumu can clearly tell he’s not making anything better at the moment so he retreats to the living room.
After you’ve dried your hair and changed into some dry clothes you went to you and Atsumu’s shared bedroom.
You were scrolling on your phone when there was a knock at the door.
Atsumu cautiously stepped into the room.
“Y/N, can we talk?”
You sighed and set your phone aside.
When you nodded, Atsumu sat on the bed in front of you.
“I’m sorry I upset you. The prank wasn’t funny,” he looked at you with guilty eyes.
“I’m not mad about the prank. I’ve just had a really bad day and it all piled up and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have yelled, I’m sorry.”
You explained the events of your day and how you had wanted some quality time with him, and instead you had gotten an ice bath.
“I’m so sorry Y/N, I never wanted to make you feel so bad. Let me make it up to you?” He pleaded. He gave you his biggest puppy dog eyes. (🥺)
Your heart melted and of course you said yes.
He perked up immediately, rushing out of the room. He came back with an armful of snacks and settled in next to you. He switched on your favorite movie and pulled you onto his lap.
“I love you so, so much baby,” he whispered into your hair. He leaned down to press a kiss into your cheek.
“And I love you,” you whispered back.
Oikawa
• You knew that with dating Oikawa, people would be jealous
• But his fangirls could get really bad sometimes
• Today they had been following you around saying how you weren’t pretty enough, smart enough for him
• It had gotten to you a little bit
• So you were ready to be home with your boyfriend away from others eyes
• Oikawa had no clue of this though and had devised, in his mind, a brilliant prank to get a rise out of you once you got home
You were finally home to your apartment with Oikawa. He had been on his phone when you walked in and greeted you with his signature grin. After a tight hug, he said he needed to go grab something in the bedroom.
You settled down on the couch letting your body relax on the plush cushions.
*bzzt bzzt*
You looked to see that Oikawa had left his phone behind. You were about to go back to resting, until you registered the name of the sender.
You bolted upright and grabbed the phone, hoping you had read it wrong.
#1 Fangirl 😉
You and Oikawa had been together for a year and you trusted him with your entire being. But seeing that name made fear pool in your stomach.
You didn’t dare to unlock his phone, despite knowing his password, for fear of what you might find.
Your thoughts were running a mile a minute as you entered your bedroom where Oikawa was in the closet.
Was there someone else? He wouldn’t do that to you right? He seemed so happy with you. He had never said he wasn’t satisfied with anything at all. Nothing had changed recently, so was something going on the whole time? Were his fangirls right?
That last question scared you the most.
“Love?” You called out.
Oikawa had a devilish smirk on his face. He knew that you would have seen the texts by now. He had come up with the prank a few days ago and was excited for you to get smart with him and call out the obvious.
“Yes?” He called back, not looking to you.
“Who’s number one fangirl?” You said, voice shaking. You didn’t know when your vision had started going blurry.
At the sound of your shaky voice, your boyfriend whipped around, eyes wide.
“Oh Angel, it’s nobody, it was all a prank I swear,” he pulled you to his chest, “I asked Iwa-Chan to help me, that’s who’s actually sending the texts.”
“S-so you’re not cheating on me?” You hiccup slightly and Oikawa’s heart aches he wipes away a stray tear. He mentally slaps himself for making you insecure.
“Never. I would never leave you for some other girl who just wants me for my looks. You love me for who I am and I am so, so grateful to have you,” he holds you tighter to him.
Once you’ve collected yourself, you tell him about all the things that had been said to you and how it had made you doubt if you were good enough for him. He quietly listened to you talk, holding you the entire time until you were finished.
He gently lifted your face up to meet his eyes. You noticed how his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed in a thin line.
“Y/N. I am so sorry that those people made you feel unworthy. I promise, you are more than I could have ever asked for. They won’t bother you again ok?” His voice was low, but still as gentle as ever. His eyes softened as he looked at you. He let his muscles relax and gave you a small smile.
Your heart felt full as you nodded.
“Okay, now why don’t we go to the couch and cuddle for a while. Let me show you how much I love you,” he gave your forehead a light kiss.
You smiled up at him.
“I love you Tōru.”
“I love you more, Angel.”
Nishinoya
• You were one inconvenience away from exploding
• You worked the customer service center at your malls department store (it hadn’t been your first choice but you needed money) and you had already had to deal with two Karens this morning
• The second one actually made your manager come down, who wasn’t happy about that
• So now you were at risk of losing your job
• Thankfully though you finally got to go on your lunch break
• You were excited because your boyfriend had time to spend it with you today
• You needed the pick me up and Noya’s naturally energetic personality never failed to do so
• Unfortunately, Nishinoya decided that today was the perfect day to execute his genius prank
You growled in annoyance as your keys got momentarily stuck in the lock to your apartment.
You had been yelled at three times today already. By two entitled middle aged women who wouldn’t listen to you no matter how many times you gave an explanation to them, and then by your manager who told you off for making him get involved with your “nonsense.”
You had been hanging on to your last shred of self control to not start screaming at your boss.
But you were home now and were more than ready to have a nice lunch with your boyfriend.
“Y/N! YOU’RE HOME!” You stumbled back as you were tackled in a hug.
“I made you lunch!” Noya grinned as he released you from his hold.
You giggled as he grabbed your hand to lead you to the kitchen.
Now, you loved Noya, but his cooking was, well, not edible sometimes. But he seemed to have gone pretty safe this time around.
There were two bowls of ramen with bread rolls on the side.
“Looks like someone was busy,” you tease. He rolls his eyes and motions for you to eat.
You were listening to Noya talk about his morning while you ate.
“And then I-“
“AH! HOT! HOT! HOT!” You were panting. The noodles were spicier than you could handle. You took a bite of the bread and nearly puked.
“Is- IS THAT MAYONNAISE?!?” You cough trying to get the awful tastes out your mouth. You rush to the fridge and down a glass of milk.
“Yū what the fuck?!” You say after catching your breath.
“What? I thought you said you wanted to expand your palette,” he’s wearing a smug grin.
You huff and get your things together to leave.
“Wait- don’t go!” He’s scrambling to catch up to you.
“I can’t do this today. I’ll see you after my shift,” you slam the door behind you as you leave.
You picked up a quick meal from the food court and find an empty table to eat at.
You had turned your phone off, not wanting to hear your notifications go off. The rest of your shift was uneventful thankfully, but you were still beyond irritated.
It was twenty minutes until the end of your shift when you turn your phone back on. You had about a dozen texts from Yū, which you were expecting, but you had a missed call from Tanaka from five minutes ago.
Confused, you called back.
“Hello?”
“Y/N! Uh, so you see, Noya he- well he was trying to make something up to you? Anyways, he called me over to your place and I was helping him cook and he may have accidentally, umm, cut his finger pretty bad.”
“What?! Tanaka where are you right now?” You were already gathering your things and writing a note to your boss explaining your leave.
“The hospital,” he replied.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you rushed to your car.
You may have been driving way a little past the speed limit, but you were at the hospital in record time.
Thanks to the lady at the front desk, you found Yū quickly. You thanked Tanaka as he left the room, not wanting to stand around awkwardly.
“Yū! Are you okay? What were you even doing with a knife! Here let me see,” you grabbed his hand and looked it over.
His pointer and middle finger had been wrapped up in bandages, but the rest of his hand looked fine.
“They didn’t need stitches,” he said bashfully.
“Hmph you’re lucky,” you mumbled, “but why would you need to use a knife?” You searched his face. He looked away, hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.
“I was trying to make you a nice dinner. I wanted to make it up to you for lunch,” he was uncharacteristically quiet.
You gently turned his face towards you, giving him a quick kiss. His face turned bright red and he sputtered incoherently for a minute.
“I’m sorry for what I said. I was having a pretty bad morning and getting my tongue burnt off didn’t help. You’re still an amazing boyfriend though and I still love you,” you intertwined your hands with his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled and leaned to touch his forehead to yours
“Does that mean we can have spicy ramen for dinner then?” He asked.
“Don’t push it.”
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I hope you enjoyed! Any feedback is highly appreciated!
*I do not own Haikyuu!! or the characters only the story*
*Do not repost anywhere, all credits to me*
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antiresperidoneclub · 3 years
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i havent posted anything in awhile but happy pride month yall! and, very much in me fashion imma take this time ta make another informational post! this installment is called
why assimilation is overall harmful to the queer community + the damage of pseudo-right wing ideas spread thruout the trans community!
CW: queerphobia, transmedicalism, bl*ir wh*te, k*lvin g*rrah, violence against queer ppl.
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so, where do we start?
assimilation, what is it?
assimilation is a deliberate effort made by a minority/ marginalized group to (instead of become free) join the majority/privledged, which is wildly more accesible ta abled nuerotypical cis white lgb folks.
now, how does that apply ta th queer community? before that, we hafta look at th stark distinction between th LGBT community and th QUEER community.
because sadly its now different
imma make this as short as possible but basically,
despite its intentions when it was formed decades ago, th LGBT communiy an th way it functions is percieved is different. case in point, th term LGBT has been heavily gentrified and commodified especially by corporations tryina sell it to non-lgbt audiences. youll notice a majority of LGBT voices an advocates are usually white cis lgb ppls or are assimilationists. th term LGBT aswell has been heavily diluted and decontexualized from its roots, such as fightin for rights wit riots an demonstrations, bein heavily tied wit black an indigenous liberation, socialist ideals and memorializing th struggle for our freedom. its also (as apart of its gentrification) is bein forced ta be more 'family friendly' in an effort of control an ta make cash off of us an further assimilate us.
the QUEER community is a somewhat niche nowadays as it sticks fairly close ta th original goals as th LGBT community once had. such as wantin an willin ta fight for liberation rather than succumb ta assimilation. its also seen as a threat as it directly challenges th authority (capitlism, cops/military, goverment, white supremacy, fascism) for its mistreatment an oppresion against queer ppl and other marginalized groups. if th LGBT community is th privledged assimilations that can be proffited off of, then th queer community is more alike 'outcasts' or 'rejects' that arent as palatable ta a cishet majority ie; trans women/ trans/queer ppls of colour, more radicalized queer folks, or those impoverished.
so, with that said, how has/does assimilation harm queer ppl?
as i said, assimilation is disspraportionatly accesible ta able-bodied, neurotypical, cis, non-poor white LGB ppls (shocker) meaning th majority of queer poc, trans people, impoverished, and diasbaled/neurodivergent folks get left behind and continuosly stomped on in an attempt ta eradicate us. and it should be noted theres 2 types of assimilation
1. forced assimilation; forced assimilation is where marginalized ppls thru cultural eradication/genocide r forced ta strip themselves of their identity an join th majority which results in oppresion, discrimination, an further erasure of th ppls themselves. this is heavily seen within th queer community wit th AIDS crisis where those who survived were later branded as 'brave' by th very system that sought their demise in th first place, leavin our community in shambles.
2. chosen assimilation; chosen assimilation is where usually a small group/ or a singular person will disregard their people in an a attempt ta be spared from oppresion or discrimination. in terms of queer ppl (especially trans folks) th main contendors r blair white, kalvin garrah, an buck angel. blair is a stellar example of attempted assimilation. she not only rejetcs, but constantly puts her own people on blast publicly ta her audince of white cishet conservatives an (more often than not) fascists. not only that but she deliberatly associates wit th very ppl who seek her erasure an oppresion in an assbackwards attempt at salvation. more concrete examples include 1. showin herself as 'one of th good ones' or 'normal' 2. acting as if shes cishet 3. constantly self-hating ta appease those mentioned above 4. spewing dangerous an misinormed rhetoric aimed at trans ppls which directly affects trans poc an non-passing trans women. next, kalvin garrah. i was gonna write a whole thing on him but instead ill (below) link copshatemoe's videos about him.
so, now that we know how assimilation both forced an personal harms queer ppls in general, what about trans ppls an th trans community?
transmedicalism and its disasterous effects towards the trans community.
transmedicalism is a belif system of sorts that follows ideals such as
beliving trans ppls must be suffering from dysphoria to be trans
a trans person must want to transition to be trans
being trans is a mental illness/ neurological condition/ birth defect cause by unbalanced horomone levels or th existence of "male and female brains"
belivies HRT or surgerys are a 'cure' for dysphoria/ 'transness'
that neopronouns or non-lesbian, gay, bisexual, or binary trans folks are invalid or 'wannabes' who see th "lgbt community as a club of sorts to join jus because"
borderline or blatant rascist, transmysoginistic, ableist rhetoric.
intentional or not, that assimilation is key an becomin 'as close ta bein cis as possible' is th goal of transition.
now, i could spend ages rantin about how these belifs are blatently wrong but however rather than disecting them lets jus go over th direct harm these belifs have caused th trans community.
lets start wit nonbinary folks. nowadays as ive seen transmedicalism has become more open ta acceptin nonbinary folks but regardless they were one of th first punchin bags. since bein nonbinary in any facet isnt exactly 'medically sustained' its already seen as bullshit, but past that it opens th gates for neoprounouns an non-convetional identitys. enby ppls would be attacked constantly or called "trenders" in an attempt ta discourage them from even existing. this 'highschool bully' type of mentality along wit th superiority complex behind transmedicalism created a stark divide between "normal" trans ppls an th "weirdo, faker" trans ppls. not only did these attacks further stigmatize an already oppresed minority but also forced ppl ta hide themselves from they own community ta avoid ridicule an bullying. this type of harrasment has left these ppls wit trauma an fear of they identity bein challenged not only online but also in IRL queer spaces while they already hafta stay hypervigilant around cis ppl, now it seems th same around binary trans folks. not only have nonbinary ppls have been impacted however, binary trans ppls were left wit insecurities, wonderin if they dysphoria is 'rlly that bad compared ta others' and worrying about things they usually didnt care about. probably th biggest of those is 'passing'. passing is th action of looking as cis as possible ta blend in an avoid general treatments sustained by cishet ppls. i as a transwomen was directly affected by this rhetoric which caused me years of my transition spent not becomin myself, but becomin as close ta a cis girl as possible. this lead me ta become embarresed by my own community also factored in by havin virtually no trans friends IRL. this was th shared experince of many binary trans folks an nonbinary trans folks i know an am friends with. in conclusion, transmedicalsim has not only ostrasized an traumatized queer folks, but has also left insecurities an damage ta binaty trans folks aswell.
so, with that in mind, how do we combat, well, all of this an much more?
liberation
liberation is th action of freeing a marginalized group from its oppresive chains. an how would this look/work for th queer community?
majority of cishet ppls think that queer liberation ended wit marriage equality but thats very much not true. multiple basic human freedoms have been stripped from not only cis lgb queers but also trans people aswell. rights such as affordable housing witout discrimination, medical options for trans people being completly accesible or downright free, safe spaces or areas where were able ta exist free of fear of persecution or discrimination, better healthcare treatment towards queer ppl, things sometimes neccisary ta ones transition bein more accesible such as name/document changes, and many more things. but remember, none of this is possible witout ingigenous liberation/land back, black liberation, or under capitlism
anyways, i have 0 way ta end this so happy pride month an a very happy juneteenth!! if ur black ur more than welcome ta leave any gofundmes, cashapps, venmos etc in th notes or reblogs!
also, if you have any additions or points/topics i shouldve made or covered pls reblog wit them!
-alexis
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lunatens · 4 years
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felix felicis (iii)
word count: 3.0k
part iii/iv
genre: fluff, harry potter au
pairing: hufflepuff!felix x ravenclaw!reader
a/n: it’s been uhhhhhhhhhhhhh over a year since i last update this whoOPS i am so sorry to keep you all waiting. thank you to everyone who patiently waited, and to everyone who’s new, i hope you like it!! there will be one more part to this series (that i will try my best to write in less than a year lol) (also for obvious reasons w**jin will no longer be a part of this fic)
the day of the gryffindor vs ravenclaw quidditch match has your stomach in knots, not about the game itself (you really couldn’t care less about the results) but about the boy you’re going to be spending the next couple hours with.
“okay y/n, first things first: that tiny ball is the golden snitch, and-” 
“felix, i’m not stupid,”
“right, yeah, sorry i’m just uhh..excited is all,’ he says shyly. you watch as the two teams whizz around the pitch, trying to keep track of all the different balls and players as felix rambles on about the rules to you. despite chan, changbin and jisung being your closest friends, you’ve never actually come out to watch them play before, always finding an excuse to stay indoors instead of sitting miserable and alone on an uncomfortable bench in typically  less-than-pleasant weather. 
“wow y/n, your friends are actually really, really good quidditch players.” felix comments with a look of mild surprise. “too bad they’re not hufflepuffs!”
“actually, at your last game they were telling me they wish you were in gryffindor, so i guess you’re not too bad yourself,” you comment with a small smile, and you have to stifle a laugh as felix’s face turns bright red. you hate to admit it, but felix is really, really cute--especially bundled up in his yellow hat and scarf, his hair sticking out and gently waving in the breeze whenever someone flies by on broomstick.
you watch the game in silence for a moment, still trying to find the appeal for the sport. the game’s been going for a while now, with neither team having found the snitch yet, although gryffindor’s leading in points. jisung zooms around the far end of the pitch, expertly evading the ravenclaw beaters’ attacks and catching the quaffle with a flourish. it doesn’t take long before he’s put the quaffle through one of the ravenclaw goalposts, and the gryffindor crowd roars in excitement. jisung does a lap of the pitch, posing ridiculously and waving to the crowd to get them even more riled up. you hear felix squeal in excitement beside you, and turn to look at him with curiosity.
“that’s just the best feeling ever, flying through the air and just having fun like that. it’s so freeing,” he says with a contented sigh. you furrow your brows and turn back to look at jisung, who’s now rejoined his team as the game continues.
“really? i mean, it doesn’t seem that great. it looks so cold and windy, and what if you fall? yeah, no thanks i’d rather stick to the ground,” you state. it’s not like you want to offend felix or anything, but you just really don’t get the hype about flying. 
“what?? you don’t like flying y/n?? but it’s so epic!” felix says in disbelief, and you shake your head in response.
“the only time i’ve ever ridden a broomstick is way back in first year, when we had to learn the basics, and i’ve got no interest in trying again.”
“i’ve never met someone so opposed to flying,”
“well, that’s what happens when you fall off and break your wrist and can’t take proper notes for weeks,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the memory. “see unlike you, i’m not gifted with good luck.”
felix looks at you blankly for a moment, thinking to himself, before a wide grin creeps onto his face.
“no.”
“i haven’t even said anything yet!!”
“ok but i know what you’re thinking and i am NOT riding a broomstick, felix!”
“oh come on y/n, live a little!! it’ll be so much fun! what, are you afraid of heights?” felix asks teasingly. you shoot him a glare in response.
“yes!! besides, i don’t even own a broomstick.”
“yeah i kinda figured, so we can just use mine! i’m sure we’ll both fit, it might be a bit squishy though…” felix trails off in his own thoughts, and you choke on your own spit. you turn to look at the pitch, trying to focus on the game rather than thoughts of being pressed up against felix and holding onto him for dear life, breathing in the scent of h-
“eh, i think it’ll work fine. so it’s settled, after the game i’m taking you for a ride.” felix says definitively, interrupting your thoughts (good timing too, your brain was entering dangerous territory). 
“i dunno, felix…. it really doesn’t sound safe, i mean two people on a broomstick? i don’t care how lucky you are, i’m not taking any chances.”
“y/n, i promise nothing bad will happen. we won’t even go that high, and we can take it slow. trust me, it’ll be okay,” felix says, tentatively placing a hand over yours and looking into your eyes. you’re silent for a moment; has felix ever been this sincere in his life? you let out a sigh of defeat.
“i better not regret this.” you mumble, and felix squeals in excitement. your heart flutters a bit when he grabs onto your upper arm enthusiastically
“you won’t, y/n!! it’ll be so much fun, i can’t wait. it’s gonna change your life for the better,” felix says confidently, and although you roll your eyes at him, you can’t help but smile giddily to yourself. 
*** 
the game ends in an overwhelming victory for gryffindor, and you and felix dodge red and gold banners and streamers on your way out of the pitch past ecstatic gryffindors and gloomy ravenclaws. you finally make it out, your stomach filling with dread as you remember what’s happening now.
“i’ll be right back y/n, i’m just gonna go grab my broomstick from the locker room!” felix says excitedly, before rushing off into the depths of the pitch structure. you stand awkwardly by yourself, shoving your hands into your pockets for warmth. your breath escapes your lips in visibles plumes, the air growing colder as the sun begins to sink lower into the sky. one of your professors walks by, reminding you to return to the castle, and you nod, telling them you’re just waiting for a friend. it’s not a complete lie, right? you think to yourself. the adrenaline from not only your upcoming flight, but also breaking the rules again (and for felix, of all people) fills your body with jitters.
as you wait for felix for what seems like forever, your mind starts to wander. watching the game with him today was...surprisingly fun? and my goodness, the way his eyes sparkled or his voice got squeaky when someone made an awesome play was maybe the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. not to mention his freckled cheeks, rosy from the biting cold, or his tiny hands that flailed excitedly when talking about strategies. was chan right after all? do you have feelings for felix? no, that’s absurd. you’re just excited to have made a new friend is all...haha...right?
you don’t get the chance to think more about it before someone pounces on you from behind.
“Y/N!!! YOU CAME!!!!” jisung’s loud voice rings in your ear.
“ew get off me, you’re all sweaty,” you say with a grimace as you shove the excited boy off your shoulders. “but good job guys, you did great! who knew you were actually good at quidditch huh,” you tease, and chan gives you a playful nudge.
“i saw you with a certain hufflepuff boy in the stands,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and you slap him on the arm.
“ok he practically forced me to go, it was the only way to stop his stupid begging and whining,” you argue, and your three gryffindor friends nod their heads in clear disbelief. 
“sure y/n, keep telling yourself that.” chan says, giving you a pat on the head which you swat away. 
“sorry that took so long, i-” felix’s out-of-breath voice stops mid sentence when he spies you with the other boys. “oh uh, hi,” he says shyly, clearly not expecting their presence. your friends grin knowingly and changbin and jisung start to whisper to each other. chan puts on a friendly smile and greets felix back, reaching out to shake his hand.
“thanks for coming out even though your house wasn’t playing,” he says, and felix seems to warm up to chan a bit. 
“i’d never turn down a chance to watch a good quidditch match! you guys are amazing,” he babbles, and you giggle at his enthusiasm, glad to see him and chan connecting. 
“you’re not so bad yourself dude. too bad we’ll have to crush you in a few weeks,” chan teases, and all the boys laugh.
“i’m impressed you were able to drag this one out, we’ve been trying to get them to come to our games for years,” changbin groans, gesturing to you. felix shrugs in response.
“i mean it wasn’t too hard, just a small bribe of some chocolate frogs and here we are,” felix says, and you feel three pairs of eyes burning into your soul. you can practically feel the smirks on their faces, and you can already hear the teasing you’ll experience later. 
“well anyways, we’re gonna hit up the great hall for some snacks on our way back, you coming? you’re welcome to join us, felix,” jisung invites.
“um actually...felixistakingmeforarideonhisbroomstick,” you splutter out, and you hear jisung make a strange noise of disbelief at what he just heard.
“sorry, what?” chan asks, and the grin on his face tells you he knows exactly what you just said. you let out an annoyed huff and repeat yourself.
“felix is taking me for a ride on his broomstick, and we better get going before it gets too late.” you say in defeat and embarrassment, reaching to grab a confused felix’s hand so you can get away from your friends before they have the chance to say anything about it. jisung opens his mouth to make what you assume is a raunchy joke about riding broomsticks, but a death glare from you shuts him up.
“okay, have fun! but not too much fun,” chan says with a wink before quickly ushering a protesting jisung and changbin back towards the castle. you’re grateful for the falling darkness, because you can feel how bright your cheeks are burning right now. 
“i’m so sorry about them,” you apologize, and felix laughs it off.
“they seem fun,” he says, then tugs on your hand gently. “follow me, i know the best place to go where we won’t get caught. trust me, i sneak out all the time with hyunjin and minho and we’ve never seen a soul.” you nod nervously as you follow felix’s lead, praying that you won’t regret this.
after a bit of walking and some light conversation, you arrive at a small clearing near the edge of the lake. 
“this is SO against the rules,” you mutter to yourself as you step over some large roots. felix gets to a spot where the sky above is clear (and growing darker by the minute), and there’s lots of room around you. he straddles the broomstick and motions for you to join him. as you make your way behind him, you can’t help but wonder if you're more nervous about flying or about the prolonged close contact with felix. there are so many layers of clothing between us, you tell yourself, it’s fine. you place your arms loosely around felix’s waist, nervous to get any closer.
“we’re gonna start off just hovering, okay? we’ll take it slow, it’ll be alright. you can tell me if you want to stop, but i really think it’ll be fine, trust me,” he says to comfort you, and you nod. felix kicks off the ground, and you gasp as you feel your feet dangling in the air. instinctively, your arms squeeze tightly around felix, and you press yourself as close to him as possible.
“i can feel your heart racing, it’s okay just relax!” felix says with a laugh.
“easy for you to say, you practically live on a broomstick,” you grumble, and you feel felix’s body shake with giggles underneath you.
“i’m gonna take us a bit higher now,” felix says, and you press your face into his back as you feel yourselves rise higher, the air getting colder as you ascend. you feel a gentle breeze tangling your locks, and the broomstick begins to inch forward. you open one eye slightly and let out a small squeak as you see how far the ground is below you. you’re almost above the height of the trees now, and felix is doing slow laps of the clearing. 
“see, it’s not too bad, right?” he asks, and you force yourself to open your eyes again. if you don’t look straight down, you have to admit the view is really nice. trees and rolling hills pepper the landscape, and you can see the quidditch pitch and hogwarts a bit farther in the distance. the last rays of sun are reflecting off of the lake, and the twilight sky is beginning to sparkle with the night’s brightest stars. 
“yeah, i guess it is pretty nice,” you begrudgingly agree. your knuckles are white as you hold on to felix for dear life, but the more time you spend up here the more you realize how stable he’s keeping the broomstick, and how much he does seem to be taking caution to make sure you’re comfortable. you let out a shaky sigh as you try to relax and take in the scenery as you hover above the trees. 
“there’s one more thing we can do, if you’re okay with it,” he says, asking for your trust. you say nothing, simply nodding into his back; you’re afraid if you open your mouth you’ll regret it. as soon as he has your confirmation, the broomstick suddenly bursts forward and you can’t help but let out a piercing shriek.
“FELIX!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!” you manage to yell over the howling wind. your eyes are tearing up from the cold night air, and your throat feels dry, and you’re convinced your heart’s stopped beating. felix just lets out a joyful laugh in response, yelling back to you “SHOWING YOU THE BEST THING ABOUT FLYING!” before plunging the nose of the stick into a dive towards the ground. he pulls up, of course, and does a few more fancy tricks before slowing down to a more leisurely pace above the treetops. 
you sit there in shock for a moment, wide eyed and breathless, trying to take in the wild turn of events.
“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!! YOU IDIOT WE COULD’VE DIED OR SOMETHING,” you scream in between breaths, still trying to get your heart to stop racing. 
“but we didn’t, right? i told you you could trust me!! was that not fun??” he asks, giddy with adrenaline. you choose not to respond, because he’s right--as much as his sudden moves scared the living daylights out of you, you have to admit it felt pretty freeing. 
“this is my favourite view,” felix says to change the topic, and you lift your head up to look around. you’re coasting above the lake, the last rays of sun painting the landscape golden. more stars are out now, and the glow of the castle feels truly magical and welcoming. you steal a glance at felix, cheeks nose and ears bright red from the cold but an awestruck look on his face nonetheless. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so peaceful and content, and the feeling spreads to you as you finally relax your grip a little and rest your cheek on felix’s back. 
“thank you, felix,” you mumble, feeling surprisingly at ease now. 
“sorry, what was that?” he asks and you can hear the grin in his voice.
“i’m not saying it again,” you warn, and he remains silent. part of you wishes you could live in this moment forever, gliding over the mirror-like surface of the water with the warmth of felix to stave away the cold tendrils of night air.
“we should uh, head back. it’s getting pretty late,” he eventually says after a comfortable silence passes. you nod in agreement, and felix takes you back to the quidditch pitch, where he returns his broomstick quickly before coming back to walk with you to the castle. the walk back is mostly silent, with the two of you hiding from professors and prefects a couple times but making it back to the ravenclaw common room unseen. there seems to be some shift in the energy between you now, the silences feeling a bit more awkward than before, but neither of you wants to acknowledge it. 
“well, uh, thanks for trusting me. and sorry if i scared you,” felix says with a small laugh as you reach to door to the common room. 
“it’s okay, i uh...i actually had a really good time. you’re right, you know, it is a really wonderful feeling being up there.” you admit. you have to stop yourself from adding “with you” to the end of that sentence. “so thank you for everything, lix,” you say and you cringe at the nickname that accidentally escaped your lips. felix tries to hold back a smile but fails miserably, blushing at the nickname. 
“goodnight, y/n,” he says after clearing his throat.
“um..goodnight,” you say before going to answer the riddle to enter the common room. as you mutter the answer and begin to enter, you hear felix call after you.
“y/n?”
“yeah?”
there’s a long pause.
“uh, nevermind. goodnight!” he says, and before you know it he’s down the stairs and out of sight. confused, you creep up to your dormitory to get ready for bed. your dreams that night are filled with the wind rushing through your hair, beautiful landscapes whizzing past you, and most importantly of all, felix’s joyful laugh ringing in your ears.
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liquorisce · 3 years
Text
reading between the lines (High School Years, Ch 2)
pairing: eren x mikasa (shingeki no kyojin) // mild erehisu, yumihisu
rating: t
summary: (modern au) Junior year is difficult, especially for Mikasa, because it turns out Eren’s decided to test the dating scene. 
(banter, jealousy... and lots of feelings)
part 1 | read on ao3
A/N: this chapter has been a long time coming (5 years omg), and tbh I have a lovely anon to thank, who messaged me asking for a sequel to hsy, which made me actually want to put down my scrambled headcanons on paper. if you're reading this anon, i'm truly grateful for the push you gave me. 
NOTE: although i intended a sequel, this is a COMPANION fic to chapter 1, it is meant to fill up the gaps in the story that the previous chapter didnt tell you. i hope you enjoy :)
Today was not one of Eren’s favourite days, for 2 reasons. For one, the day started off with … an encounter. Two, today they would be getting the results of their final trig assessment, which Eren knows perfectly well he didn’t have a chance of passing.
The ‘encounter’ happens pretty much without preamble.
i.
“… Hey, it’s Eren, right?” He turns around from his conversation with Armin, to see the same guy from a couple of weeks ago, the one who was talking about Mikasa, and her pretty hair. (he wasn’t wrong)  
“Yeah?” He does his best not to let the subconscious irritation seep into his tone.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” the guy with the oddly horse-shaped face says, “… My name’s Jean.”
“… Nice to meet you,” he says awkwardly delivering his dishonest words.
“… So, I wanted to be straight up with you,” Jean says, cheeks oddly pink. “About Mikasa… and you. I’ve heard some rumours, and I thought it best to address it with you directly, because I really don’t want to cause any trouble.”   Clearing his throat, he says, “Are you guys… y’know, together?”
It’s in the way Jean speaks, he thinks, or the way he talks about Mikasa (or even thinks of her?) - it makes him want to ram his fist right in the middle of his ugly face. And because he was too busy clenching his fists to actually respond, Armin says with a laugh, “… Ah, don’t worry, Mikasa is totally single.”
And then proceeds to wink at Jean.
Eren can barely believe his eyes and ears. And once Jean is out of earshot he hisses, “… what the fuck, Armin?”
Armin blinks up at him innocently. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
 “… You didn’t have to encourage him,” Eren mumbles petulantly, when he admits to himself that Armin did, in fact, say nothing wrong.
 “Erm, why not?” He sighs, “Look, I know you… worry about Mikasa,” Armin keeps his tone as neutral and veiled as possible, because worried is definitely not all Eren feels for Mikasa, “… but Jean is a good guy! And if anyone deserves attention from a good guy, it’s her.”
 ii.
 She finds him lurking near his locker, stuffing his crumpled papers in, probably wishing away their existence.
“That bad, huh?” She asks, hiding away her grin at his predictable reaction. Eren has always been predisposed too sulking - whether he was a 7-year-old who wasn’t the fastest on the field or 16-something and having just received his trigonometry results.
“… You look like you did just fine,” he mutters, not having to see the A+ on her paper to know that Mikasa had no problem acing the trig test (or any other test).
“You could just ask me for help, Eren. I could help you out for the retakes,” she offers softly, not for the first time.
He sighs. When he glances at her, dark eyes offering earnestly, he knows she means it without any pride or arrogance, but he isn’t able to suppress the prick of his own ego that has him mumbling, “… the mandatory remedial lessons should do just fine.”
iii.
When he shows up for class, he sees only a couple of others unfamiliar faces, so he curses under his breath at his own ineptitude towards mathematics for getting him in this situation and takes a spot at the back of the class.
The Support teacher - Erd, he calls himself, apparently too young to be addressed ‘Mr.’ or any of that - seems just as tired as the rest of them, sighing at the lack of answers, obviously frustrated at the complete lack of interest or gratitude of the teenagers in front of him.
So, 20 minutes into the 1-hour lesson, when the short blonde walks in, out-of-breath and apologetic, the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “You’ve already missed 1/3rd of this class, you might as well have stayed out entirely and practiced your cheer routines.”
Eren watches sympathetically at the visible cringe on Krista’s face and offers her an empathetic smile as she takes the seat next to him.
Later when they’ve been informed that the retake is just an assignment filled with proofs and average difficulty problems that they can do in pairs, he looks at Krista, the only known person in the room.
They weren’t that close, but they had quite a few mutual friends what with him playing basketball and her being part of the cheer team. So, when she says, “… see you at the library tomorrow evening?” with a pretty smile across her pretty features, he grins gratefully.
..
She doesn’t struggle with trig even half as much as he does. In fact, she seemed to be happy to do most of the work herself and explain her solutions - if he actually had the interest to understand them.
“I don’t understand,” he admits after she solves the 5th problem in a row effortlessly, “you seem to have everything down already. How come you didn’t pass the test?”
Her eyes skittered nervously away from him. “I was… sick,” she mutters. “I couldn’t really focus.”
He eyes her closely, observing the sudden change in her countenance. Usually Krista was all easy smiles, twinkle in her blue eyes. Now, she looks uneasy, unwell almost. Deciding it wasn’t his place to pry, “… Well, I guess I turned out to be the lucky one in all this,” he grins, “… I get to hang out with you and have you do my assignment.”
She rolls her eyes. To be honest, she’d enjoyed the past couple of evenings with him. Eren was easy to talk to, despite being somewhat of an airhead and being completely incapable of anything remotely math related. But regardless, he made her laugh and just about forget what happened the morning before she showed up for this test, with fresh tears choking her throat, and purpling bruises on her thighs.
“I guess you owe me then,” she quips back, smugly.
“… I definitely do,” he says smoothly, green eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel warm. “How can I make it up to you?”
Flustered, because she hadn’t expected his easy response, she mumbles, “… Dinner?” And with red cheeks hidden by her blonde bangs, she whispers, “I like pizza.”
iv.
She finds him at the end of the day, on one of the wooden tables outside the basketball court, chin resting in his hands, eyes glued to his laptop.
“… Hey,” she breathes, giggling when startled green eyes flash up to her, body jerking in surprise.
“Damn, you got me,” he grins, pushing his laptop away and leaning up for a brief kiss. She’s happy to return it, and she lets her fingers wind into his hair, enjoying it for a moment longer.
“Mmm,” she mumbles, “I saw you closing that browser window,” she teases, wrestling control of his laptop, “watcha lookin’ at?”
When she manages to open his browser history – much to Eren’s protest – her eyes widen. “Women’s dresses, spring collection??” She waggles her eyebrows at him.
“… It’s not for me,” he grumbles, deciding to make it painstakingly clear before Krista enthusiastically begins to tell him what dress would suit him the most – he knows his girlfriend, crossdressing would be absolutely acceptable, if not encouraged – and he watches her eyes feign disappointment.
“… Boring,” she sighs, rolling her pretty blue eyes, “I don’t see how you’re not curious about how you look in a dress,” – she gasps, hand flying over her mouth, “Wait… was that… a surprise… for me?”
“… Um,” Eren starts, intelligently, because the situation that was already awkward in his opinion, just became even more so. “Well,” he gulps, taking in the sparkle in her eyes, knowing fully well just how much she likes surprises, feeling guilty even thought he needn’t be, “itsformikasa.”
He hangs his head in apparent apology, but more so because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment flit across her features.
“… Oh.”
He chances a glance at her, and there’s no particular emotion per se, and it worries him, because she gets this faraway look in her eye sometimes, and he can’t really tell what’s going on, and they’ve only been together a few months and he’s not an expert in reading her silences –
“I see, is it for her birthday or something?” Her tone is measured, and she’s looking pointedly at the screen.
“Um… yeah.” Eren sighs, wondering what the hell was up with his own reaction. He had nothing to feel guilty about – where did that even come from anyway? – Mikasa’s his… family (or something). Shopping for her was normal. He did it every year. This isn’t something he needed to hide.
“Yeah, it’s next month,” he says, giving her a smile. There was no need for this to be awkward if he didn’t make it so. Besides, it wasn’t like he was buying her lingerie or something! (he brushed this thought aside faster than the red blush crept up his neck)
“Do you think, you could help me with it?” He blurts this out, partially in an attempt to distract the weird atmosphere, and also partially because he could really use the help.
Krista blinks. “Err, yeah. Sure.” She pulls up Mikasa’s profile on Instagram. “Let’s see,” she murmurs… Turtlenecks… Jeans… a ridiculously modest swimsuit that she wore to a pool party two years ago. The sexiest outfit on her entire profile was probably her in her tennis shorts and that had more to do with Mikasa’s undeniably ripped body than anything else.
She looks up at Eren, who’s still looking at her tentatively, green eyes unsure.
This whole thing was silly anyway, she thinks, offering him a genuine smile. He and Mikasa were close (and they lived together, which she did her best not to think about), but this wasn’t a surprise so it’s about time that it came up in some way in their relationship. In any case, she hadn’t felt any hostility from the raven-haired beauty and Eren was usually quite forthcoming about everything, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about.
“So, um, does she have a favourite colour or something?” She’s eager to kill the awkward mood and is grateful to see his shoulders visibly relax as he ponders.
“… Red, I think. Maybe, like, a darker shade. Sort of… maroon, y’know?” He thinks of the scarf he gave Mikasa when they were younger. It was a ratty, yet fluffy maroon thing which she was absolutely terrible at tying, but she wears it everywhere during the winter, even though his father had a bought her a better one at some point.
They peruse their options for a bit, and Krista picks out a deep red number, a shimmery satin one, with slinky straps and a slit that travels up an already high hemline. It wasn’t really a spring dress but more of a cocktail night outfit, and Eren is weirdly embarrassed thinking of Mikasa in it.
He eyes the screen incredulously. “… Somehow, I just can’t picture Mikasa wearing something like that.” He opens up another link, to a denim overall dress, “… now this, she would wear.”
“And that,” Krista retorts, “is why she’s still single. She has an amazing body; she should flaunt it.”
“… What would she wear it to?” Eren asks, unconvinced. (Also, what was wrong with Mikasa being single?) “… Student council meetings? Debate competitions?! I just,” –
“Parties, Eren,” she says, exasperated, “… it’s high school!”
“You know she doesn’t” –
“Drag her to some! C’mon, we’re going to be seniors soon. She’ll thank you for it!”
v.
Six hours later, she’s closing up her shift at her part-time job. It’s a job she’d rather keep hidden – from her friends at school and the law – because she isn’t sure what the age policy was in these kinds of establishments. It worked out because it was close enough to home, and between her and the bartender, the tips compensated the poor wages. Plus, the bartender – a slightly older girl named Ymir with a pretty fringe and a sharp tongue – was genuinely fan to hang out with. And she was surprisingly protective of the small blonde, particularly with the rougher customers, whom Ymir scared off quite effectively with her glares.
“So,” she says, as she scrubs the counter clean, “… I helped my boyfriend buy a dress today.”  
She doesn’t turn back to see her, but she can hear Ymir’s raised eyebrows as she says, cheekily, “… I didn’t realize you guys were into that stuff.”
Snorting, she replies, “Well that would be interesting. But no, it was for his, um, friend. Or something.” Or something, because sometimes Eren refers to Mikasa as his best friend, sometimes his family, and sometimes it just felt like… something else, basically.
She turns around to look at Ymir, who says nothing, continuing to rinse the rest of the glasses. “Her name’s Mikasa,” she continues, her voice getting oddly unsure, “They’ve known each other forever. They even… live together.”
“… What,” Ymir stares at her in disbelief.
“It’s not like that,” Krista finds herself sounding defensive, “Eren’s dad is her guardian… or something. Has been for some years. So, it’s not like they moved in together…”
She elects to skip the part where Eren’s dad is a doctor with Doctors without Borders and is barely home for more than a couple of months a year. She didn’t like the look Ymir was giving her anyway.
“So… they’re like brother-sister or what?”
“No,” she says, realizing that the word came out more vehement than she intended. But she knows that was definitely not the way Eren saw their relationship.
“… Krista,” Ymir starts, and the blonde can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s going to get all protective on her, “… I know you’re in high school, and… you’re dating – as you should – but you don’t have to waste your time on shady boys.”
At this she laughs because, “Eren’s not shady, he’s a nice guy,” –
“… You could get anyone you want; I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.”
The defense that was bubbling up in her throat suddenly stilled, because there’s something about the way Ymir just said that – called her beautiful – earnestly, quietly, and it made her feel funny. It took her breath away for a very brief second and replaced it with a warm flush that creeps up her neck.
It’s strange, she’s heard it before from so many boys with obvious motivations; Eren’s always calling her pretty, and complimenting her eyes or whatever… But when Ymir said it, and looked at her like that, honey brown eyes, deep with unnamed emotion, all she could do was avert her eyes.
vi.
It’s 7pm and the library’s home only to the nerds by now. The librarian is lax (and underpaid) enough to ignore the low buzz of two over-enthusiastic AP chemistry students that grates on Mikasa’s ears.
Ordinarily she’d just plug her earphones in and ignore the world to focus on the assignment at hand. But today she accepts anything to distract her from the scene earlier at home. And even though Armin’s sitting right next to her, supposedly doing his own thing, she doesn’t miss the worried glances he sends her every now and then, which she really doesn’t want to address.
Her feelings for Eren were a well-known secret by now, just as well-known as the fact that he clearly didn’t return those feelings, so she wasn’t particularly in the mood for Armin’s indulgent pity… regardless of how well-intentioned it was.
So, when its 8pm and the librarian is shooing them out, and she bumps into Jean, she’s grateful for the few extra minutes of conversation surrounding absolutely nothing important.
When they continue to the parking lot, their conversation having progressed from awkward conversation starters to an animated discussion on Jean’s tennis form, Armin’s well and truly realized that he has no place here.
After Armin’s said his goodbyes and Mikasa recognizes that she doesn’t mind staying away from home and possibly Eren and Krista in the middle of their 5th round, she asks Jean, “… so do you like Chinese food?”
When she walks in a little after 10 pm, cheeks cold from the night air, there’s a small grin on her cheeks, because she’s made a new friend today, whose company she genuinely enjoyed.
But when she enters the living room to see Eren fast asleep on the couch, she finds herself staring in the face of the reality she’d tried so hard to escape. It’s difficult to ignore the ruffled quality of his brown hair, mussed up in a way that could only have been achieved by someone (a very blonde, very beautiful someone) raking their hands through it.
She can’t help the wave of irritation that sweeps through her - so she doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps as she walks up the wooden stairs.
Minutes later, she hears his sleepy voice at her door. “Hey,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “you were out pretty late, so I left you some dinner. We made pasta, it’s not as good as yours but,” -
“… I ate already,” she says, tone clipped.
“Oh.” He’s quiet, just watching her put her things away, and there’s irrational tears pricking at her eyes, anger, and frustration that she knows she doesn’t have the right to, so she doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “… Mikasa, are you…,” he clears his throat, “… is something wrong?”
When she says nothing, he sighs, turning, “… Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I’m always here,” -
“… Could you please go over to Krista’s house next time?”
She colours, surprised at herself for her outburst of honesty. But her blush pales in comparison to Eren’s as he processes what she’s saying. “… This is my house,” he sputters, “… I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to bring my girlfriend over.”
“Well, it’s not just ‘bringing her over’, is it?”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “… What I do with Krista, in my personal space, is definitely not your business, Mikasa.”
“It is when I can hear it, Eren,” she retorts, as he shuts the door forcefully behind him.
vii.
It’s been two weeks since that… confrontation, and Mikasa’s barely spoken to him since.
She leaves before he does, makes sure dinner’s left out on the stove for him, whether he needs it or not, and locks her door when she’s done. And although he’s found himself staring awkwardly at that shut door multiple times, he’s never had the courage to actually knock.
He simply cannot comprehend this situation because despite the numerous arguments they’ve had in the past - it was always him, whining about something like a petty child and sulking till he got his way - she’d never truly been mad at him. And she’d never, ever, gone days without talking to him. And as he stares at the locker next to his (it was Mikasa’s) with a horrible ache in his chest, he is well and truly sure that he loathes this situation.
So, when small hands reach around his waist, enveloping him in a tight embrace, his subconscious reaction is to jerk back in annoyance. “I didn’t realise it was you,” he murmurs apologetically, rubbing her hands softly.
“… Who else would it be?” Krista asks, somewhat thrown off by this mood that had been festering for days now.
“You ask some very valid questions there, babe,” he mutters, a distracted half-smile on his face.
Taking a deep breath (determined to shake him out of his pensive aura), she whispers, “… You know, I don’t have work today.” She leans against him, reaching up to murmur in his ear, “we could hang out at yours for a while, if you want?”
She makes it clear what she means by “hanging out” by the way she presses up against him, and even though he’s responded with fervent enthusiasm to a similar invitation in the past, today he just averts his gaze, awkwardly.
Swallowing the rejection with a graceful exterior, she puts an arm’s length of distance between them. “… What’s going on, Eren? Your head’s been somewhere else all week.”
And before he starts to stay that it’s nothing, just that he has some stuff going on, she says, “… does this have something to do with Mikasa?”
His green gaze jerks up at her, startled with unfortunate honesty. “… I haven’t seen you talk to her all week.”
“…I,” he starts, but his throat closes up, for some reason, unsure whether he should really tell her what happened. He doesn’t want to put her in the middle of something that was clearly between him and Mikasa.
But with every passing second, the guilty look on his face only begins to feed the fears that she had successfully kept dormant all this while. “… Did something happen between the two of you?”
And when he looks into her eyes, bright blues seeping insecurity, he says, hurriedly, “… wait, I hope you aren’t thinking that we,” - he inhales sharply, wondering how he manages so successfully to upset the women in his life - “God, no. We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She said something, I was pretty rude to her, and I shouldn’t have been.”
“And,” he murmurs, admitting it to himself, finally, “I’ve just taken too long to apologize.”
She’s barely finished washing the vegetables for dinner, when she hears the thud of the front door closing loudly.
(She remembers Carla reprimanding him every time, for not being gentler)
Mikasa has managed to avoid Eren successfully these past days, because she knows his schedule, knows that despite his complete lack of organization, he’s fairly predictable. And with his recent interest in a particular cheerleader, he almost invariably never comes home before 8.30 PM. So, when she hears him enter their kitchen at little over 7, she isn’t prepared.
She isn’t prepared because she’s been quite cowardly, saying things that she had no business saying, and then being unable to own up to it, unable to apologize to him. Because she knew that when she looks at him, she’ll feel the way she feels right now - taking in the sight of him, drizzle droplets fresh in his brown hair, as he runs a hand through it, his mouth twisting into an awkward grin. She knew she’d realize that her feelings for Eren were never really much of a choice, they just were.  
“… I brought your favourite dumplings from Li’s,” he announces. “And I brought an extra serving of the spicy soy sauce so we don’t have to fight over who gets the last bit.”
He’s grateful for the small smile that forms on her face when she accepts the dumplings (the peace treaty as he calls it in his head), and for the small banter that she indulges him in as they eat.
After they’re stuffed with dumplings and inconsequential conversation, he clears his throat, because he remembers he came home early tonight with a certain conviction.
But as she does with most things, she beats him to it. “… Eren, about the other day,” she looks at him earnestly, “… I had no right to demand that of you. I’m sorry.”
And when he’s still quiet, she mumbles quickly, “I don’t know what got into me that day, honestly, I,” -
“Don’t apologise, Mikasa,” he says, a strange disquiet taking over him as he replays her words, “… the last thing I want, is to make you feel uncomfortable.” Or to make you feel like you can’t demand what you want from me.
This is the part that settles into him slowly, that somehow, the one person in his life that he’s always felt he could ask anything of, could demand anything of, and actually receive it without fail… she didn’t feel that she could count on the same from him. And it twisted painfully inside of him.
“I appreciate that, Eren. But honestly, I’ll get used to it… so don’t worry.” She smiles, in that genuine way of hers, small lips, curving shyly, “… and who knows, maybe someday I’ll want to ‘bring someone over’ too.”
She laughs as she does the air quotes and even though he manages a small grin in response, all he can say, without really meaning it, is –
“Yeah… Of course, yeah.”
 viii.
 She takes her frustration out on the cash register. “… Damn thing doesn’t open when I need it to, and doesn’t close when I want it to,” she mutters under her breath.
 “You just need to show it some love,” Ymir says, amused, promptly closing the problematic register without any difficulty. “… Go sit, I’ll close up here.”
 She does as she’s told, pouting slightly, but she’s grateful for the older girl’s help and understanding. “So… want a beer before I close the tap?” Ymir asks with a wink.
 “You need to stop offering underage girls alcohol,” Krista whispers, scanning the room hastily.
 The brunette rolls her eyes. “You need to stop with the innocent act every time. You’re a hot cheerleader for god’s sakes, everyone knows what goes on at your high school parties,”  -
 “Ok ok,” she acquiesces, suppressing the blush at Ymir’s offhanded compliment and deciding that that there was no point in panicking every time they did this, “… but only if you join me.”
 “Cheers,” Ymir says, offering her glass to Krista’s and taking a generous gulp. “So, tell me. Boy trouble, again?”
 Krista nurses her drink slowly before taking a sip.
 To Krista, Eren was a breath of fresh air. He didn’t hover, he didn’t foam at the mouth every time she spoke to another guy, didn’t hound her if she didn’t pick up his phone call.
 Does he even care? Ymir had asked her once scathingly, but she had disregarded it, grateful for the freedom she felt in his embrace. Freedom from toxic attachment, from past trauma or unresolved baggage like the one she was destined to carry. When she was around him, she had felt different. Lighter almost, as if this persona that she had created for herself could actually have a shot at happiness after all.
 But lately she’d begun to wonder if she’d just been fooling herself… again. She’d begun to question if she had just convinced herself to see the promise of something that was never there.
 “… I thought this guy was one of the good ones,” Ymir says, watching Krista closely.
 “He is…” she sighs, “He is one of the good ones. It’s just…” she trails off, unsure if she should give voice to her thoughts. “Ah fuck it, I’m just feeling a little insecure, it’ll be fine…”
 “… Is this about that sexy flatmate of his?”
 She winces, feeling exposed. It often felt that way with Ymir. Like there was no point to any of the barriers she had worked so hard in constructing.
 “She is attractive,” Krista admits, begrudgingly. “… I’m only surprised Eren hasn’t noticed that.”  
 “… But that’s what you’re worried about, aren’t you? That he has noticed that of late?” Ymir narrows her eyes at Krista. “You should just ask him about it!”
 “I did,” she states defensively, “… and he said there was nothing,” -
 “… Oh, sure there’s nothing. I can’t believe he thinks he can lie to you and get away with it,” -
 “Ymir, I trust him, he’s my boyfriend,” -
 “But that’s the problem with you. You just trust everyone, and you let them walk all over you. You did this with Reiner and now with,” -
 “Ok,” she whispers, “Stop it, Ymir.”
 “… Krista, you need to trust your gut about this sort of thing. If your gut is telling you that he’s a lying asshole, then you should just dump his ass and,” -
 “… See this is why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” she cries, her voice rising In frustration. Because this is how it’s always been with Ymir, no one she dates is ever good enough, no decision she makes is ever smart enough.
 “You’re always shitting on my boyfriends. And I know you were justified about the last one, but,” her voice cracks just a little bit, because at the end of it all, she just feels weak, “… it feels like you’re just taking a massive crap on me as well.”
 “I didn’t mean,” Ymir starts apologetically, brown eyes remorseful, “… look, that wasn’t my intention.”
 She takes her hand, slowly, lets her long fingers intertwine with Krista’s smaller, dainty ones.  The crumpled expression on Krista’s features has her regretting ever opening her big mouth. But she was tired of seeing one person after another, enter her Krista’s life, and undo the progress she was trying so desperately to make.
“… The truth is,” she takes a deep breath, ready to unleash a truth that’s been stifled for so long, she can’t even remember when it first sprouted, “I think you’re pretty fucking amazing. And I see you wasting all your time and your feelings on these stupid boys who don’t deserve you.” The words come out quickly, rushed almost. A sharp contrast to how long they’ve festered in Ymir’s chest, growing and growing until these feelings knew no reason.
 Ymir doesn’t look at her, she keeps her gaze focused on Krista’s hand, afraid of what might happen if Krista understands the depth of feeling behind her words. But more important than her feelings, there were some things she wanted Krista to see clearly.
 “Did you tell him about your father, Krista? What he does to you when his wife isn’t looking?”
 Krista tugs on her hand, a wave of unbridled panic spreading at the mention of her father. “I trusted you with that information, Ymir, you promised you’d never bring it up,” -
 “… Did you tell him your real name?”
 She can’t answer this question, even though she knows the answer, knows it’s an emphatic ‘no’ - but she cannot answer because there’s an overwhelming lump in her throat, and it’s taking everything from her to barely keep it together.
 “… Let go of me, Ymir,” she pleads, and that’s when Ymir loosens her grip.
 “… You trusted me to keep quiet about your secrets - and I’m fine with that. I’m fine with doing anything you ask of me,” her teeth grit together, because she doesn’t know, Krista doesn’t know just how much she would do.  
 “You asked me not to do anything about the fact that your father is hurting you, and it even though it kills me, I listened to you. But now I see you hurting yourself in this farcical relationship with fabricated feelings for some boy who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, and I don’t know if I can be quiet about that anymore.”
 And because it’s grown too large, too much to keep inside of her anymore, she whispers, “I love you, Historia. And if you want me to let go of you, I will. But,” she brushes her lips gently against Krista’s cheek, “… You can trust me with your secrets, and your heart, if you’d let me, because I could take care of you.” She feels a warm tear roll down Krista’s cheek and her heart clenches, “… I could make you happy.”
 …
ix. 
 “… I really appreciate you making time for this,” she murmurs, as she watches him lay the white lilies at her parent’s grave.
 He always remembers, without her prompting, because the first time he’d come with her, she’d spent hours crying at their gravestone, telling him tear-filled anecdotes of the dishes her Mama cooked, the bedtime stories her Papa told, the flowers that they used to grow in their garden together (white lilies).
 “C’mon Mikasa,” he rolls his eyes at her, “… we do this every year. Why wouldn’t I make time for this?” And why the hell are you thanking me?
 She can’t really explain it to him, the possibly childish notion that she thought he might be too busy with his girlfriend to remember the death anniversary of her parents. She regrets doubting him, regrets that of late she’s been so clouded by petty jealousy, that she hasn’t truly appreciated how little he’s changed around her.
 “It’s ridiculous,” she confesses, softly, “… you’ve given me everything. A home… A family.” She smiles at him, somewhat blurry. “But I can’t help it, every year on this day, my mind always goes back to that… moment. I lost them… in what felt like the blink of an eye.”
 He tenses, as he always does when he sees her upset, or shedding a tear. There is a fundamental part of him that deeply despises the sadness on her features; it makes him feel helpless. So, he does the only thing he can - he wraps an arm around her, tucking her face into his shoulder as she snuggles into him.
 “I miss them every day. But you saved me, Eren,” she whispers, dark eyes looking up at him with a gratefulness that he has never known how to accept, and never felt worthy of. “… and now I have you.”
 Her voice trails off, almost wistful. “… I guess the world really can be cruel but beautiful at the same time.”
 …
 x.
 When he stops to think about it, he supposes it really is ridiculous it took them so long to get here. And by here he means - Mikasa wrapped securely in his arms, in his lap, on their couch, taking advantage of the privacy they’ve had all along.
 He feels her tongue flick against his - it makes him shiver - and he can do little more than just wrap himself around her tighter, and sigh into her kiss. Her fingers make their way into his hair, cradling his head, pressing sweet kisses on the side of his mouth, on his jaw, and on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.
 And because Mikasa’s always been a quick study (she’s learnt what he likes, what he’s weak for), he stills her exploration (very reluctantly) before she goes too far.
 “Are you okay…?” He whispers, rubbing a thumb along the dried tear stains on her cheek – a reminder of her tears, of knowing the pain that he’d caused her, bubbled quietly within him, having been quelled temporarily by the glorious feeling of having her in his arms.
 She laughs, shaking her head, “… I love you. I can’t believe I finally get to say it.” She rests her forehead against his, a happy smile forming on her lips.
 “… You could have said it ages ago; you know. No one asked you to keep it inside for this long.” Even though he teases her with his words, his lips drift back to hers, brushing softly, unable to stay away for too long.
 “… Well, you never know, I actually might have said it. If it wasn’t for, you know, you having a girlfriend.” He senses the eye roll, the teasing lilt of her voice, but he can’t help but regret the time he wasted. Because even though Krista was a dear friend, and there were no ill intentions there, now that he is here, chest to chest with the girl he loves, he only wishes he’d been here sooner.
 “You’re going to use that against me forever, aren’t you?”
 She grins in response. “… I have a question though.”
 “Shoot,” he murmurs, nibbling against her lower lip.
 “… Why’d you guys break up?”
 He groans, kissing her jaw testily. “… Do you really want to go into that right now?”
 She hesitates, torn between potentially ruining the mood and needing to know what happened. God knows, she had spent countless nights losing sleep over the details anyway. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay, I guess…”
 “It’s fine,” he says quickly, realising that if he wanted to set a precedent where she could ask him anything, then it‘s best he starts now, “… She’s in love with someone else. A girl, actually.”
 Her eyes widen, not having expected that turn of events. “… Please tell me you didn’t ask for a threesome.”
 “What the fuck, Mikasa, of course not!” He pulls back, offended.
 “Good,” she murmurs cheekily, “I’ve raised you well.”
 “Hmm,” he hums, “Speaking of ‘raising me’, you should probably stop saying stuff like that. Do you know that Connie asked if you were like a ’sister’ to me?”
 He grins, seeing the shocked expression on her face. That’s exactly how he had felt when he was posed that question, with a little mortification added to the mix. “… Is that really how everyone sees our… relationship?”
 His fingers drift to hers, where they rest on his chest. “We’ve been living together for a while now,” he caresses her knuckles absentmindedly, “Kids our age… they don’t really understand it, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
 “My turn: I have a question for you,” he murmurs. This is a question he’s long considered, stopped only by his embarrassment, fielding it from others only to put the vaguest labels on it.
 “… What am I to you, Mikasa?”
 The question throws her, because even though she’s told him candidly how she feels, that she loves him, she always has, he is asking her, right now, to define their relationship.
 The very notion, the expression that flits on her tongue, bubbles up in her heart with an exciting warmth, even though she hopes this is just temporary, that it will grow, that Eren is so many things and will be so many things to her that she cannot possibly define right now - “… My boyfriend, of course.”
- fin - 
A/N:  i've been really nervous to post em, because its just been so long, and the writer that wrote chap 1 is different from the one that wrote chap 2, and honestly i dont even know if there are inconsistencies. so my request to you, dear reader, is to please let me know if i have made any fuck ups in writing this - or if you have any ideas for pacing, or storytelling that could possibly help me improve.
also there will be a chapter 3 focusing on eremika’s sexual exploration~
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ofclaires · 3 years
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IV. CLAIRE WALSH
PAST SELF PARAS: april 2020 / september 2020 / march 2021. 
hi, before the read more i just wanted to say THANK YOU. getting to play claire has been absolutely a treat, a challenge, and genuinely, a huge part of my life for the past year and a half or so. it occurred to me when writing this and looking back at other things i’ve written for claire that i didn’t just feel like i was writing this for myself or for claire ; but i was writing it for you guys, too ! that has been one of the most special things about gallagher for me is the writing community that i feel like we built, taking such a huge investment in our characters and everyone else’s writing. i feel like i’m writing with and for some of my best friends. i also feel like i’ve grown so much ( ok, i actually don’t just feel like it, i can look back at those three paras and SEE how my writing has improved. ) i am so blessed to have gotten to write claire with all of you and to share her story, i feel like she has been so fucking beloved & it’s given her so much life. i am so proud of her and it’s really bittersweet that i’m finally saying goodbye to her as well. so, thank you all so, so much, gallagher has been a writing experience like no other for me & i love you all ! 
trigger warnings : domestic violence & abuse, death
PART ONE: CHILDHOOD.
The trailer that Claire spent the back half of her childhood in never felt like home. Maybe because trailers are made to be temporary, or the fact that if she accepted that this was where she belonged, she’d have to give up hope.
It’s normal Maggie Walsh to be out late, Claire’s usually cleaned up the kitchen and tucked herself into bed by the time her mother comes in the door – but she’s not sleeping. She’s always had trouble with that, brain bouncing around from one thought to the next until eventually she hears the creak of the door.
Her mom’s home.
She hears the usual stumbling, the clatter of dishes falling from where she’d neatly placed them on the drying rack. Maggie’s drunk, Claire’s sure of that. Ten years old and she knows what it means to be so drunk that you can hardly see straight, that the words you say under the influence are a different reflection from the person that you really are. She inhales deeply and crawls out from under the covers to check on her. Ten years old and she knows the steps: Help her take her makeup off, make sure she sleeps on her side, glass of water on the bedside table, trash can on the floor. Maggie is only twenty-six years old herself now, not done with her childhood by the time that Claire was born, not ready to be a mother. Claire’s had to figure it out most of it herself.
“Mom?” Claire knocks on the door lightly, plastic cup full of water already in hand.
“Don’t – don’t come in!” Maggie sputters, and Claire’s confused. She defies her request and opens the bedroom door the rest of the way. When she sees her mom, she drops the cup on the floor, small hands curling into fists.
“What happened? Who did that to you?”
“I told you not to come in here, Claire,” Maggie repeats, but Claire has always been on to disregard commands. She learns at a young age that authority only means older than you or some assigned title, not that they know best.
“Who did that? Why?” She repeats her questions. Despite being mature for her age, it’s hard for Claire to wrap her head around the black eye obscuring Maggie’s face, and the swelling on her cheek.
“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie sighs, dejected as she flops down on the bed. Even in her state, she knows that there’s not much use telling Claire to back off or go away once she’s decided that she’s not going to. Her little girl is a spitfire, strangely enough reminds Maggie a lot of her own mom, like living with a miniature version of her. Maybe that’s why Claire wins most arguments. “Come here.”
Claire walks closer to the bed, kicking the cup aside on her way for no reason other than to kick something. She crawls into bed next to her mom and looks up at her, waiting for more of an explanation or literally anything but silence. 
“I don’t know why I keep looking for a happy ending. I leave you home alone, I come home like this...not helping either of us,” Maggie presses a kiss to the top of Claire’s head, runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair. It’s so soft and Claire is so little, she can’t help but look at the spilled cup on the floor with a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she adds, voice choked up and words a little slurred. Tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes when she closes them, hugging her daughter closer, “I’ve blamed you for my fucked up life for so long...that’s not fair.”
Now, Claire is only ten, but those are the kind of words that you remember forever. Still, she smiles. “It doesn’t have to stay fucked up. It can get better,” a childish spark of optimism in her heart that hasn’t yet been put out. It makes Maggie smile back though, kissing her daughter on the top of her head yet again.
“I like that,” she says, and they fall asleep curled up beside each other. Claire sleeps soundly, thinking that it’s possible. Things really could get better, and for a while, it seems like there really is a sort of shift. Maggie starts cooking, cleaning again, and she doesn’t even stay out so late. That’s when she meets Martin.
He seems better than the rest. Until he isn’t.
But Claire does her job as her mother’s protector, just as she’s been doing all of her life, and it’s that event that jumpstarts the rest of everything that happens next.
PART TWO: GRADUATION.
Claire’s come to the formal conclusion that graduation ceremonies are a waste of time. There’s all this build up, everyone’s so excited, and then you have to sit around and wait for your name to be called so you can spend two seconds walking across a stage while everyone claps. She would have skipped it entirely if her mother hadn’t already come up, and if she knew that people were going to insist. The small talk afterward is even more agonizing than the ceremony itself. It is sort of painful saying goodbye to everyone, and it occurs to Claire that there’s more people that she’s going to miss than she ever expected.
“Callum and his mother are here,” Maggie points out.
“And?” Claire rolls her eyes. Seeing Callum again to begin with had brought up a lot of old feelings, and generally, even though they’d resolved things, she tries to avoid him whenever possible.
“Well, it’s probably weird if we don’t say hello, at least, right? I’m going to say hello,” Maggie interjects, “he’s such a sweet boy.”
Claire’s eyebrows rise on her forehead as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go ahead then,” she sighs, “I’ll wait right here.”
“Claire,” Maggie draws out her name with a withering stare, but Maggie has never been able to establish that sort of authority with Claire that would prompt any inclination of obedience, so Claire just shrugs her shoulders, unimpressed. She’s not going to budge. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”
Claire’s done her best to put the chapter of their life that includes Martin out of her mind when rekindling things with her mother, and she certainly doesn’t want to stand around making small talk with his other ex-wife, trying not to look at Callum with his matching jawline, trying not to remember everything she hates. It all comes back in a flash. The horrible cracking sound that her mother’s head had made when it connected with the wall, the blood on the marble floor. They say you don’t remember trauma properly, that your memory doesn’t work quite right, but she will never forget the way her fist connected with Martin’s face : like a puzzle piece, like it BELONGED there, and she’d done it over and over again until she heard sirens.
And yet, Claire can’t deny that it’s a part of her life that got her here, where she is today. She thinks life is shitty and random, and that not everything has to happen ‘for a reason.’ Still, she’ll catch Kass’s eye across the room and see her smiling so brightly that it seems impossible not to believe in something. Claire can’t help herself anyway – she smiles back. No one has ever been able to produce Claire’s smile in its truest form the way Kass has, unashamed of being so happy to look at someone. She once thought the idea of looking at a person and seeing your whole future was ridiculous, that you’d have to be stupid to put that much of yourself into someone, but it isn’t like that at all. All of it was unintentional, like by the time she realized it, Kass was already everything. And she feels so safe with that thought that she doesn’t mind at all.
“Am I interrupting something?” A figure steps in front of her, cutting off her line of sight. She’s not really fond of being snuck up on, so she opens her mouth to say something snarky when she’s met with the gaze of Lisanna Harlin, one of last year’s mentors. Her daughter, Elisa, is there, but she’s not graduating, so Claire’s confused by Lisanna’s presence.
“No, Ms. Harlin,” Claire says, though there’s a spark of indignation in her words that practically goes hand in hand whenever an adult commands authority.
“Lisanna is fine,” she says with a light laugh, like she’s amused Claire’s greeted her this way.
“Can I...help you with something?” Claire asks, mostly curious about how long this interaction has gone on. While she’s friendly with Elisa, she was Kass’s roommate last year, they’re not exceedingly close, so she’s not sure what else Lisanna would have to say to her other than maybe a polite hello.
It’s more than a polite hello. Lisanna Harlin works for Lexon Corp in Durham, North Carolina, a private military company that provides armed guards, bodyguards, and guns for hire. They’re the sort of place that would be looking for the best of the best in combat, and they have a bit of a reputation for hiring Gallagher girls. Claire had given up on the job search months ago since the video went out, in fact, she’s had a job lined up for graduation already : at a boxing gym in D.C., where the scene isn’t too bad. It was suited to her, but not exactly the sort of thing that her Gallagher education had prepared her for. Lexon Corp? Everything her rigorous love of January boot camps were tailored to. And they want to interview her.
A month later, Claire’s sitting on the cusp of a completely fresh start. It wasn’t easy to backtrack on the plans that she and Kass had made together, knowing how much was changing for the both of them, it had been nice to have the stable idea of an apartment together on the horizon. Now, she’s a four hour drive away, and she goes home to her one-bedroom studio in Durham after rigorous training throughout the day. But she’s grateful for the chance to work her way back into the field, and she can remember what Lisanna said to her when they gave her the offer.
“We’re aware that with your history that we’re taking a chance on you, Claire,” Lisanna said. “But we think the reasons that made other agencies look past you are exactly what makes you an asset. You care about your jobs, the people that you’re involved in, and you’d have a partner’s back until the bitter end. You listen to your intuition, trust your gut...and above all else, you have follow-through. I’m excited to be able to offer this position. Don’t prove me wrong.”
Claire swears that she won’t.  
PART THREE: KIPTYN.
Kiptyn isn’t supposed to be in the left hall closet. 
In fact, he’s not supposed to be awake at all. But who can sleep the night before their birthday anyway? Sure, he’ll be thirteen, and that’s probably old enough to have gotten over the magic of it all, but...he’d still been lying awake with excitement, the anticipation keeping his eyes open for hours on end. Well, that and the video game he’d been playing under the covers, but he’d obviously only been playing it because he couldn’t sleep in the first place.
Then he started thinking about the left hall closet and the conversation that they had at dinner the other night. In Kiptyn’s defense, Dahvia – his younger sister – had totally started it and he was an innocent bystander. After all, Kiptyn’s old enough to know that they don’t bring up Claire to mom, because it just puts her in a mood and then you can forget about doing anything else for the rest of the evening. But Dahvia’s ten, practically a baby, and she doesn’t know any better.
“Hey, mom? What sort of accident did Claire die in? Nina asked me at recess and I didn’t know,” Dahvia pipes up, before she’s even properly sat down. Kip visibly cringes. He’s older, wiser, knows this won’t go well. Still, he dares to look at his mom’s face and he notes the faraway look in her eye, like she seems to experience a bunch of things at once. Kip notices how even though her eyes are glassy, she doesn’t cry. Though sometimes, their mom will just cry randomly, like two weeks ago when he asked for help with his Spanish homework and she couldn’t even help him finish the first worksheet.
“It was a car accident,” she says stiffly, “eat your dinner.”
Kiptyn kicks his sister under the table and flashes her a look that says : Great. Look what you did, ruined dinner. Dahvia sticks her tongue out at him.
So, he knows that he’s not supposed to be in the left hall closet because he could ruin many more dinners, but he’s here anyway. He’s been thinking about it ever since they sat in silence for the rest of that half hour, and he’s come to the conclusion – his mother was lying. Because all sorts of things make their mother cry, like a bowl of mac and cheese or Spanish class, or motorcycles, and she won’t let Kiptyn take boxing lessons though his friend Robert is and he thought it sounded really cool, but she doesn’t have any problem with cars or driving, and also, she’s never told them a single thing about Claire except that. They aren’t allowed to know anything about her, especially not anything true, so Kiptyn is pretty sure that’s a lie. There’s just something just weird about it.
So, in the middle of the night before his thirteenth birthday, he looks up a video on how you pick locks and then he figures it out on the door of the left hall closet. He’s there for at least forty-five minutes, practically ready to give it all up when he hears the clicking sound, and then it opens. His first thought is : Woah. This is a load of junk.
And he’s right. There’s boxes upon boxes of paperwork, old clothes. Some things start to click, like when he finds a pair of worn boxing gloves with Claire’s initials embroidered on them. His favorite thing that he finds is the fattest scrapbook he’s ever seen – his mom always makes them, there’s one for every year of his life. Dahvia’s too, they love looking at them. The cover of this one, though, says Italy 2021. It’s all pictures of his mom and Claire, probably in their early twenties. Kiptyn mostly notices his mother’s smile, how he’s only seen her look like that a couple times in his life and yet it looks so EASY here, like she wears it all the time. It’s so strange to him. He sets the scrapbook down and crawls toward the back of the closet. His eyes land on two leather folders with gold embroidery, and he opens up the first one. In big letters at the top : GALLAGHER ACADEMY.
It’s a diploma.
This certifies that Kassandra Sutton has satisfactorily completed the…
“What are you doing?”
Kiptyn yells out like a child, not having heard anyone creeping up on him. He claps his hand over his mouth as if to shush himself. “The door was open! I don’t know how, but I just...noticed it was open and wanted to make sure that...no one was stealing your stuff!” he grins sheepishly, hoping that he can ride on the high of his birthday week to get him out of this one.
“It was just...open?” his mother looks down at him with raised eyebrows before brandishing a twisted paper clip between two fingers. The one that had formerly been stuck in the door. His guilty expression widens, he can’t help it.
“Okay, I might know how it opened,” Kiptyn admits. He hesitates for a moment, before he realizes that he’s ALREADY in trouble, he might as well just come out with it and pray to the birthday gods. He holds up the diploma with her name on it : “What’s Gallagher Academy?”
Kass’s sigh is heavy and deep, accompanied by the amount of exhaustion that comes with raising two curious kids by herself. After Claire died, she moved her family to London to be closer to their aunt and away from everything that reminded her of Claire. She never told her children why. From hiding that world from them, the world that took so many people from her : her father, her ex-girlfriend, and the love of her life. She swore that she would never lose her children to it, too. But Kiptyn looks up at her with wide eyes, desperate to know about his mother and his past, and Kass also knows what it’s like to have part of yourself missing due to family secrets that are being kept from you. He is practically a teenager now. So, she relents.
Kass doesn’t go into all of the details, of course. Just that Gallagher Academy was a school for spies, and that’s where it all started. Kiptyn already knew that his moms met in college, so it’s the spy part that’s most interesting to him. She talks about Claire with a light in her eyes he’s unfamiliar with, how she was one of the best fighters in their year, that she grew up with such a talent in the ring that she probably could’ve gone pro if her life had gone in a different direction. She talks about how they had to part ways after graduation, because Claire got a job in North Carolina and she got a job in Washington, DC, but they made it work, and both got very accustomed to the four hour drive – though it was sometimes closer to three for Claire, because she always drove too fast, even on this big, black motorcycle which Kass swears that she hated. She tells Kiptyn about how they got married, the way she’d almost moved to England for a dream job and that long distance threatened to drive them apart again – until Claire chased her down in the airport with a ring and proposal.  
She also talks about how Claire really died : the abridged version. It was an overseas mission where they’d been cornered, and Claire risked her life to save the rest of their team. There were no other casualties, and the information they were able to bring back helped stop the terrorist organization they’d been chasing to end them for good. Kass tells the abridged version for her son, gives Claire a hero’s death. In some ways, it was. She doesn’t mention the ways that Claire was consumed by the case, it was an organization hellbent on killing spies and it likely reminded her of the brotherhood. Kass had been worried about the case the whole time, because it felt like Claire was taking it too personally. In the end, she may have been right : because Claire had let it take her life in order to close it. She also doesn’t mention that such a sacrificial death means that her wife died fighting alone, swinging her fists until her very last breath. But still, she was all alone.
She had no choice but to take her kids as far away from that life as possible.
Kiptyn tries, but he doesn’t really remember Claire. He’d only been three years old when she passed away, and before then, she’d been so consumed by her last case that she was barely present. Still, he thinks she sounds badass.
He falls asleep on his mother’s shoulder that night, looking through the scrapbook of pictures from their trip to Italy in 2021. He’s animated for the first part, pointing out buildings and asking questions, wonders if Claire was sweating in all that leather, but he slowly starts to drift off. He wakes up on the couch the next morning, no trace of the book or any of the other papers he’d hauled out of the closet the night before. He looks at the closet and there’s an extra padlock. Figures.
It comes up in little ways, like a private joke that he has with his mother, like she’ll say something and flash him a secretive smile. He likes that, and he understands that this is a big secret that he has to keep. It doesn’t come up again until his fourteenth birthday the next year, the summer before high school. It’s a strange letter in a manila envelope, sealed with some expensive red wax, his name written in fancy calligraphy. The most attention-grabbing part, however, is not Kiptyn Sutton-Walsh in big cursive letters. It’s the return address :
GALLAGHER ACADEMY.
learn her skills, honor her sword. keep her secrets.
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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years
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Ghosting A Wayne
Masterlist
Warnings: Adult content +18 only!! Smut, Agegap, Swearing, A Little Angst?
A/n:Ok so this is the first real full smut iv done and im super nervous about posting this one i hope its good but if its shit im sorry hope you enjoyxx
After getting cold feet because of your own insecurities you get a visitor pick you up from work.
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Ghosting A Wayne
You sighed as you pulled out a batch of cookies from the oven placing the three large trays out on the cooling racks today was a baking day to fill the display out the front ,you'd been alone with your thoughts all day and were just about done, glancing at the clock you fist pumped the air. Home time. You quickly undone your apron hanging it on the hook by the kitchen door then called out to Tom that your shift was done.
After your first lunch date with Bruce you intended to leave it there but the man was very persistent... and charming somehow he'd managed to talk you in circles and wrangle a second date and third and forth. you'd canceled your fifth using work as an excuse and he bought it for about a week, then he began asking when you were free telling you to call him giving you his personal number which you didn't call.
That worked for about three days before he began messaging you about a date you replied with excuses it seemed to work until he showed up at the door to drop Damien round instead of Alfred, Jack had covered for you not letting either of them in saying you were ill. It wasn't that you didn't like him or anything you were scared, scared of getting hurt he was amazing a perfect gentleman he made you laugh he took you to fancy places but didn't make you uncomfortable even going so far as to berate another guest as he heard them make a comment of the restaurant 'letting anyone in these days' when he was returning from the rest room , you felt special and safe with him.
But he was The Bruce Wayne and nothing would ever come of it. Someone like you had no right to be with someone like him, he deserved a high class well educated successful woman not a minimum wage cafe worker who dropped out of college. You found yourself growing to attached to him and it had frightened you. Not only that but what would people say when they found out, probably think your a charity case or a gold digger you could see the headlines now ' The playboys new sugar baby' with photos of you plastered across the tabloids you shivered.
Damien had spoke to you about it he was far to smart for his own good telling you your being a 'stupid female' and that you should just talk to Bruce about it, Jack also scolded you for being stupid and letting your insecurities hold you back.
The boy had been soo happy for you when you were going out with Bruce, he admitted that he felt responsible for you being alone and not having friends or a boyfriend it broke your heart, hearing how he blamed himself for it, yes it had been hard taking on a 8 year old at 20 years old and yes you did need to grow up quicker then most and avoid the typical early twenties drinking and clubbing but you wouldn't change a thing. When he had brought it up you both had a heart to heart and you were gobsmacked at just how mature he had soundec. He told you that he didn't care about Bruce being Damien's dad or that he was older than you, he was happy that you had someone who made you happy and wanted you to got out with him again and be happy. The boys didn't understand.
"Tom I'm finished don't touch the cookies before they cool you can have one to test but that's it theirs 48 here I've counted, so if you have anymore I will know its you, you greedy little shit" you said opeing the door you walked straight into him he was wide eyed pointing out to the font over his shouldet. You froze thinking the worst it was gotham afterall.
"Oh my god tom?"
"You have.. Out the there.... Man front" he said not making any sense you pushed past him through the door
"whats wron-"
"y/n!" you snapped your head to the counter seeing Bruce standing their ignoring the odd looks he received from the other few customers scattered about in the cafe. You slung your bag over your shoulder cradling your coat in the other hand cursing quietly. Scanning the cafe for a quick exit wanting to run. There was one way in and out and he was between you and the door. Giving in you plastered on a polite smile.
"Bruce what are you doing here?" you asked tentatively due to the blank look on his face unsure what mood he would be in after you ghosted him. Making your way around the counter he followed on the other side meeting you at the end.
"I wanted to take you out, Jack told me when you finished so I thought I'd come pick you up for dinner" you felt the gazes in the room shift from him to you and the whispers started. Bruce held out a hand taking your coat from you while you tried to come up with a reason not to your anxiety screaming at you to run. You sighed at him biting your lower lip raw he lifted a hand pulling it gently forcing you to release it. He smiled meeting your eyes trying to calm you.
"Bruce I don't feel like going out tonight can we reschedule?" hooking his arm around your waist guiding you out of the cafe past the gossiping customers opening the door for the both of you pressing himself to your back giving you no room to bolt away. Hed catch you anyway.
"Good news, we don't have to go out Alfred is making us dinner back home, so we get to have a relaxing night in." you nodded as you left walking down the street feeling your nerves spike as you realized there was no reason to avoid this. He kept pace with you to the side arms ready to dart out and catch you as you glanced around a little skittish he ushered you into a ridiculously expensive Lamborghini and took off down the road.
"So that's Tom then? the one you were talking about?" he started you were confused as he acted like you hadn't been avoiding him for the past week and half you just nodded.
"Err yeah that's him we get along work really well, I was doing all the baking today couldn't handle the customers they were doing my head in." he nodded placing a warm hand on your knee running his thumb in small circles you took a deep breath.
"I know what you mean, had a lot of meetings today with a bunch little men wanting me to over invest in companies that wont last the financial year" you tensed as he left his hand on your leg still navigating the traffic, you tried to shift your led from underneath him but he just followed squeezing it lightly making your breath hitch and clench your walls tight.
"Sh-shouldn't you have both hands on the wheel in a car like this?" you asked quietly he laughed giving you a mischievous look then you screamed as he let go of the wheel completely still picking up speed quickly.
"OH MY GOD BRUCE NO!" you cried leaning over grabbing it yourself he just laughed out loud placing one hand back on it the other still resting on your knee.
"Its fine I could probably drive this with my eyes closed, it's nothing like my other car" he said cheekily as he made his way towards the outskirts of gotham you swallowed nervously.
"yeah please dont do that"
"Don't worry I'd never let anything happen to you sweets" you blushed as he used the nickname he'd given you onde he found out about your sweet tooth and the fact you do all the baking at the cafe.
"He says after driving without hands." you scoffed looking out of the window as the scenery changed. It wasn't long before you pulled up to the manor. It was impressive you'd only been inside twice whilst waiting for Jack to get his things he thought it was the perfect place to hid from his dentist and doctors appointments. Once out of the car he lead you inside where Alfred greeted you both.
"Ah Master Wayne dinner will take another hour or so I'm afraid and Y/n its lovely to see you again." Bruce gave you both a look seeking an explanation for the first name basis.
"Have you met everyone in this house before me?" he asked sarcastically you smiled at him before Alfred took your coats hanging them up.
"Well sometimes the boys play about getting ready so Alfred comes in for tea whilst we wait and I've met Tim he has come over a few times drank my whole pot of coffee and left." he grunted before leading you to a small sitting room off to the side.
"We will be in here Alfred call us when dinner is ready." Alfred nodded smiling slyly before closing the door leaving you in private. You sat down on the leather sofa a nervous wreck looking around the opulent room feeling out of place, he took a seat beside you offering you a glass of what you assumed was scotch he sat and leaned in next to you. Relaxing as he took a slow sip of his drink.
"Don't look so worried the boys explained for you. Your scared of getting hurt I can understand that I don't exactly have the best record but I'm not giving up as you can tell."you looked down into your glass a little ashamed as you heard hurt laced in his words.
"I-its not that, its me I.. I love spending time with you I really do... but I dont think you should waste your time on me... thats all" he frowned you sounded so ...defeated , he didnt like it one bit placing his glass down putting two and two together. That he didn't know Damien said you were being a 'difficult woman' and Jack had said that you hadn't dated since school and were afraid of being hurt he summarised that it was because of him but it sounds like there was more to it then that. Bruce took a deep breath regarding you carefully.
"Waste my time? why would spending time with you be a waste. There is something between us, I have never felt this type of pull to a woman before and I'm quite determind to see you if you havent already noticed" he said sternly you shrunk into the sofa he sighed pulling the glass tumbler from you hand.
"Whats really going on? we were going fine then you just pulled back. I want this, us and I know you do to but we have to talk to each other." You leaned forward locking eyes with him feeling overwhelmed you shook your head pulling back he followed leaning back pulling you across the seat wrapping his arms around you pulling your face into his chest holding you, you tried pulling yourself off of him but he was to stronger than he looked. You Gave up then took a deep breath endulging in the closeness breathing him in.
"Talk to me please" he spoke quietly into your hair
"I cant, I just cant, your-I, you need someone better. And if people find out then what will they think? that I'm a charity case some passing fancy? that you'll get bored with and you will bruce. When you find some older succsessfull women who equals you. someone that I can never be for you. I wont be good enough for you and you'll see it one day" once you started you couldn't stop as the words kept coming your fears poured out after being kept bottled up since that very first date.Fears of loving him and then him leaving, or of what backlash Jack could face if you were painted to be a whore trying to capture Bruces attention, the cps could investigate if it seemed like you were becoming a party girl like what Bruce typically dated. Then there was the fact that the school could start being funny if word got out that you and bruce were together. But the main reason was that he was to good for you and you knew it. You heaved a breath feeling lighter yet your stomach churned he had been quiet throughout and you'd gotten yourself worked up shaking from your anxiety feeling sick to your stomach.
"I'm sorry I know I should have spoke to you instead but I... I was scared that you were going to realize I'm right and leave ...so" he hushed you rubbing your back lightly causing you to shiver and relax onto his chest.
"So you left before I could?" you flinched then nodded it sounded so petty when said out loud he moved sitting up a bit more dragging you with him not releasing you for a second, he would have preferred if it had all been about his past but now realized you had low self esteem you had fears about the future, the age gap, Jacks future and how people would judge you all of these fear were to blame. And he understood it must be daughting, but what got him most was that you thought he'd let you deal with it alone , that you were so scared of loosing him in the long run you tried to walk away now and that was all the proof he needed that you did feel somthing for him.
"Tell me something does Jack have a problem with you being with me?" he asked you shook your head instantly.
"No he loves it, he wants me to be with you he saw how happy I was he has been pestering me to call" he pulled his head away smiling confusing you.
"I can tell you that Damien is thrilled he has even been bragging to his brothers that I've found the perfect woman and they cant wait to meet you by the way the
and he threatened me before every date to 'not to fuck it up' so let me ask another question if Jack, Damien me and you are happy what does anyone else's opinion matter? it's our life why should we make ourselves miserable over a few tabloids that can be taken to court and be corrected? and I do have reporters that I trust with these type of stories one is a very close friend who I could give an exclusive to before any rumors get around and the press make up some nonsense. Not only that I know Clark wold print the truth if he knew that it involved the boys being bullied in the school." he let you pull back shocked you didnt think he would want anyone to know, you thought hed be ashamed of you.
"wh-what?" it was bearly a whisper but he heard it.
"You heard me sweets, Clark wouldn't let me down not with this and there are other reporters who I've trusted to cover stories of the boys in the past one phone call and I would have everything sorted and anyone who tries to make this something its not will feel the full force of my legal team." he leaned in giving you no time to reply kissing you deeply invading your mouth moaning into you. His tongue dominated your mouth taking your breath away he paused pulling you to straddle his waist you blushed looking down at him.Trying to put your weight on your knees conscious of your weight Bruce not having any of that tugged harshly pulling your weight on his thighs.
"And as for finding someone better I doubt it. I've said it before and I will say it again I want you. Not some stuck up model who's one surgery away from being on botched. The day we met I was floored and for the first time I saw what I truly wanted for me and my family. And it wasn't some highly educated business woman, no it was a sexy little mama bear who treated my son as her own." you gasped as he brought your hips closer resting you on his crotch before leaning forward capturing your lips again this time slow and deliberate pouring himself into it you, you moaned quietly as he rocked you across his groin. Pulling back for air
"So little miss now we have all that cleared up is there anything you want to add?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" you gasped out trying to collect yourself as you began getting tearful as you felt stupid for being so silly yet relieved that he hadn't thrown you out, he chuckled shushing you then moved biting at your earlobe .
"That's ok love I'm sure you'll make it up to me" he said kissing down your neck biting below your ear then lower to your pulse point feeling it race under his tongue before sucking harshly bordering on painful.
"o-OH Bruce" you gasped gripping his shoulder trying not to lean back to far and fall he noticed using and arm to hold you elbow resting on your waist curling his fingers into your low bun pulling slowly stretching your neck before him leaving marks up it you groaned closing your eyes trying to rub your thighs together as your pussy grew hot and clenched dampening your panties he ran his nose down your neck kissing your collar bone lightly.
"Aww sweety so desperate hm?" you whined squeezing his hips between your thighs again grinding softly against him he chuckled biting the top of your breast running his tongue along your cleavage unbuttoning your blouse with deft fingers then returned them to your hips pushing you harshly on his erection you cried out looking down panting as he dragged you slowly back and forth feeling him through his trousers was almost to much you fisted your hands in the crisp shirt covering his shoulders. He let out a breathy growl smug as you started trying to rock on him faster pouting when he held you controlling your pace circling you slow on his bulge dipping his thumbs into your pelvis tilting you catching your clit with every pass of your hips you shook your head eyes tightly shut.
"OH fuck shiiitt Bruce" he watched eyes blown as he built you up slowly drinking in your flushed face pouty full lips forming an 'o' as you let out high pitched cries his hands smothered your breasts squeezing them in his palms testing them before he tipped the cups down teasing your pink nipples to attention. You opened your eyes glazed over pleading with him.
"Please Bruce... I dont-fuck" you moaned high and louder almost squeeling as he pinched one of your nipples refusing to let go pulling your chest towards him by it until he could lay a sweet kiss to the other suckling catching it between his teeth nipping it letting go with a loud pop. You panted harder as he toyed with you, your body trembled as he pulled you closer to the edge your clit rubbed harshly against him and he growled relishing in the way your heat seeped onto him. He couldn't wait. He wouldn't. With a one sweeping motion you found yourself lying on the sofa with him hovering over you pulling your leggings down over your hips skimming your quivering thighs with his knuckles befor rubbing your calves and griping your ankles encircling them effortlesly, running his thumbs across the inside of them . Following bending as he went kissing your soft stomach and pelvis finally leaving a small kiss on your mound over your panties you moaned at that. He slipped your leggings off taking your flats with them you blushed as he stared seeing the wet patch you'd left on your panties crawling back up you exploring with his hands the whole way. Hooking a hand around to back of your neck he pulled you up into a bruising kiss needy as he angled his head to devour you deeper his other hand dragging your shirt from you by the back of the neck unclipping your bra and he went lowering you back down you blushed trying to cover yourself he growled pinning them beside you.
"Nooo you dont babe, let me see, show me" he ground out a deep gruntle sound that vibrated threw you trailing the tips of his fingers from your throat down in slow unpredictable patterns leaving goosebumps in his wake your nipples pebbled as he past them your whole body shuddered
"Fuck. Your stunning" you didn't meet his gaze it was to hot, posessive like he was claiming you already just with his eyes watching closely memorizing every freckle and mark on your skin, he let out a deep shuddering breath when you arched up inyo him as he fingered the bow on the waist band of your panties back and forth he brought his fingers lower and lower across your mound. You squirmed trying to buck up against him trying to get him where you desperately needed him whimpering pitifully. His response was to stretch out his fingers across your lower tummy and push you back down holding you still. You protested as his warm hand covered your whole mound and rocked forward trying to catch your clit on the heal of his palm that rested just out of reach.
"Such a greedy little thing. I think I'm going to have to work on your manners" he chided before using a hand to unbutton his shirt revealing a perfectly sculpted torso, you made a noise in the back of your throat that you didn't recognize at the sight of him, caramel skin taught over deliciously defined muscles and small thatch of hair disappearing below a teasingly low hanging trousers he let the shirt slide to the floor undoing his belt then slowly pulled his trousers over his hip grunting thrusting forward as it glided over his cock. You bit your lip still trying to move against his heavy hand he granted you a little mercy twisting as the wrist slotting his thumb between your lips seeking your clit and rubbing a figure 8 hard.
"AHH! F-Fuck BRUCE yes oh god-" you gasped deep breaths as he rolled your cilt around almost rough in his ministrations the fabric of you panties hieghtend the sensation you closed your eyes grinding yourself down on him tears leaked from them his other hand came up to your throat forcing you to face him.
"Look at me baby. come on let me see you... ah there she is good girl" he praised as you looked at him tears clinging to your lashes his hand still working you. Sobbing incoherently trying to buck up to him.
"OH fuck please-PLEASE let me come bruce please I'll do anything PLEASE" you breathed out hoarse gasping when your pussy weeped wetting the sofa below you he played you like an instrument taking you higher and higher you clenched and withered as you felt that familiar burn of an orgasm start in your lower tummy , almost cramping as it traveld lower to your pussy you chased it trying to rock harder just as you were at the presapice he stopped pulling his thumb away bit still pinned you down.
"AH! NO Br-BRUCE come back" you sobbed reaching out for him as your body hummed hot and quivering you gave up on finding his hand throwing yours between you trying to take over and force yourself over the edge. Soo close. Bruce was quicker catching them in one hand pulling them above you head. He watched waiting for you to come down from the almost high. Pouting all the way.
"You can count that as your punishment babe" he whispered huskliey into your neck kissing at the marks he has left. You cried out frustarated sweaty and exhasted.
"But im feeling a little mercifull tonight." you looked at him from below your lashes his heart skipped a beat seeing you look at him so needy and ready you looked so small,he could do anything to you right now but only wanted one thing. Shuffling back leaning down he placed an open mouthed kiss on your panties slipping his fingers in the sides draging them off before standing removing his boxers freeing his erection you gasped as it bounced up tapping his stomach ,hesitantly you reached out running a single finger along the underside from tip to base he jerked forward when you cupped him testing your grip befor stroking him he stopped you
"Fuck sorry babe but I cant wait." he growled out pinning you back down running his weeping head up and down your slit you tensed as he probed your enterance. Sensing your nerves he locked lips with you coaxing out your tongue sucking on it before licking in your mouth makeing obscene noises feeling you relax he took the chance and slowly begun stretching you around him ,you gasped at the slight sting pulling back rest your forehead on his grunting softly as he kept a slow steady pressure finally knocking his hips with yours you panted feeling your walls fluttering around him then squeezing
"shit Bruce" he huffed out a laugh flexing in response
"carefull there babe" you grunted feeling stuffed full as his head pushed against your cervix.
"Bruce please...HUrry up!" you clenched him stealing his breath from him he gave a playfull glare you felt a little tremor of apprehension as he repostioned your legs higher on his hips placing your heels into his lower back before plowing you into the sofa grunting and growling as his thrusts rocked your body you were by no means quiet as the veins on his cock massaged your walls with delicious friction he slowed then pressed himself tight against your clit rotating catching your gspot you bucked violenty against him head thrown back as you wailed he leaned up sucking and biting at your neck then resumed finding a brutal pace aiming for your gspot hitting it with pinpoint accuracy. You shook your head screaming out uncontrollably bucking begging for him to go harder, faster just wanting more. It wasn't long befor you saw stars letting out a silent scream tensing before you snapped cumming around him almost blinded as he rode you through it still hitting your spot faster if that was even possible before stuttering his hips holding himself tight locking you both together as he flooded you.
"OH GOD fuck FUCK yesyesyes good girl yes fuck" he moaned as you lay beneath him, limp body still quacking in the aftermath of your own end. He stayed still until he was soft catching his breath recovering before you removing himself he sat back on his knees watching as he leaked from you quick to scoop his cum and press it back within you, you whined still painfully oversensitive trying to pull away from his invading fingers. he chuckled as you squirmed utterly spent.
"nooo bruce" you whined as he prodded your freshly fucked pussy lighly grazing your abused clit causing you to whine at him pitifully jolting with every swipe.
"Aww baby are you sore?" you pouted at his words nodding he got up sitting you up handing you your forgotton drink you took it gulping it down ignoring the burn. he retrived his boxers throwing them on then a soft blanket covering you before scooping you up heading for the door.
"Bruce? what are you doing?" you asked gorgily already struggiljng to stay awake he leant down shutting you up with a kiss.
"We are going to bed you need some sleep before we continue." you blinked
"wha?" he grinned cheekily
"well how are we going to build up your stamina if we dont push past your exhaustion?" you almost cried just wanting to sleep.
"What about Alfred dinner?" you questioned
"He didnt make any I had to have a reason to get you here didnt I? he went to bed. and dont worry about Jack he is staying over in a room next to Damien's" you looked at him shocked
"What why was he here? do you think he could have heard me? bruce!" you panicked suddenly fully awake trying to wiggle out of his grip he laughed kissing your face.
"Oh my god what about our clothes? Bruce go back and shit we made a mess i need to clean that up..Bruce are you listening?" You created as he continued further away from the room youd just soild.
"he didnt hear you at all it was one of his demands when we planned this. And dont worry about the room or the clothes alfred will take care of it" he said scaling the stairs with ease taking you to his room
"planned? you who else knew? And what do you mean alfred will take care of it? no absolutly not that is embarassing" you argued as he kicked the door to his room shut behind him depositing you on his bed following you down landing above you kissing you again.
"me alfred damien and jack planned it but dick and jason knew too thats why they are scarce and alfred has cleard up worse trust me." he explained you stared at him in horror
"My little brother set me up with you?oh my god I'm not going to live that down and i need to clear that up its to embarassing for alfred to see" you cried he laughed out loud.
"Well I think its was worth it, and you can try and beat Alfred to it but that room will be ccleared up before sunrise and you won't be leaving this bed before then" he said snuggling up with you under the cover ,you made a noise as he tucked you into his chest his heart beat calming you making you drift into a peaceful sleep resting on his chest, feeling safe and sound wrapped up in him as he traced patterns on your back, sighing he was finally content a peace he hadnt known befor washed over him satisfied that he had found the woman that would complete his family, his chest swelled as he placed a kiss on your head. He wasn't ever letting you go now that he had you here. Glancing over at the clock, hed give you an hour or so to build up some energy before he woke you smirkjng to himslef planing all the wicked ways he was going to toy with you during the night. Oh yes the night was young and if Bruce had his way you wouldnt be leaving his bed tomorrow because you wouldnt be able to, thankfully you hade a few days off so he might let you recover. Then again he might not.
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dhrdrabbles · 4 years
Text
Part V
(Part I,  II, III and IV)
His growth spurt between the Battle of Hogwarts and his trial made vulnerable situations with Draco Malfoy extremely awkward.
Hermione noticed this three years later, at a particularly poorly visited DMLE regulars’ table. They had been a small round tonight anyway, with a large number of aurors, including Harry, being dispatched to an emergency in Aberystwyth.
Terry Boot called it a night after the first round of butterbeers, clearly irritated by the only other two participants tonight. As a result, Hermione and Malfoy awkwardly shared an otherwise empty table until Hermione sighed and went to the bar to order another round.
Malfoy thanked her, his eyes glued to the stains and wood grain on the table. Hermione rolled her eyes. Malfoy had joined the department in the past autumn, too much scepticism in the public and Ministry alike, but his behaviour during his probation had been impeccable. From the moment he became an auror trainee, his record was spotless. Robards had mentioned more than once that he would allow him a shortened training period if it weren’t for the Mark on his arm. There were limits even to a Department Head’s power.
She sipped her butterbeer, eyeing him.
Malfoy wasn’t unfriendly towards her, but he had made much better amendments with Harry or Terry, or even Ginny at this point. With her, he seemed to distance himself more than necessary. He was going out of his way to be polite, but barely able to meet her eye when they spoke, which had been a nuisance when they were assigned together during Malfoy’s first field training. When she mentioned it to him, he had become eerily quiet, his gaze – as always – trained on some point behind her shoulder, assuring her that it was nothing personal and just his nerves.
Hermione’s thoughts lingered on this exchange, although it had been five months ago. She had never seen Malfoy so obviously nervous. It was this reaction that made her firmly believe his behaviour hat little to do with his or her blood and everything with her as a person. She just didn’t know what it was.
Malfoy was now sipping his second butterbeer gingerly. Half of his was finished and Hermione had only taken a few sips, so she hurried to follow suit, only to choke on some beer that had sneaked its way into her trachea as she rushed to drink.
Hermione coughed.
Malfoy chuckled.
The small sound from across the table made her look up in disbelief, still coughing lightly.
She must have looked menacingly because Malfoy’s hands quickly shot up in defence. His smile, to her surprise, remained. “Sorry. But the second you started downing that beer, I knew the choking was imminent.”
The next and final cough hid her surprise at his nonchalant small talk and Hermione was thankful for it. She looked up at Malfoy, who loomed over her even when seated. “And you didn’t think of warning me.”
“Granger.” Ah, the drawl. She only ever heard it when he joked with Harry and Terry, or anyone but herself. The tone that once made her shiver uncomfortably in the Hogwarts halls tickled a giddy curiosity in her these days. She itched to find out why he excluded her from it. “Why would I ever warn you when I could just sit here and enjoy watching you chug that beer – and fail?”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t be angry with him. Not when he finally seemed at home in small talk territory. Not when the corners of his mouth were still pulled upward.
He finished his beer in an impressive performance of ‘elegant chugging’ which Hermione filed under yet another Malfoy-only specialty. Putting down his jug, he looked over at her, caution now dominating his features once more. Hermione looked at him questioningly for another second before he took a small breath and pointed at her beer. “Do you want another of these? Because I actually cannot stand the stuff and will order some good whiskey instead.” He paused for one second and then added, hurriedly, “If you want to stay. Feel free to leave.”
Now it was her turn to grin up at him. “It’s fine. I think I’ll stick to this one for now”, she pointed at her glass which was still half full.
At that, he seemed to relax visibly and got up to order.
Hermione’s gaze lazily followed him as he glided through the crowd. His bright, blond head towered over most of the other guests and was visible up until he stopped at the bar.
*
Two butterbeers and three whiskeys later, she returned from the bar with yet another butterbeer and a top-shelf whiskey for Malfoy, the snob, who had actually warmed up to her at long last over the past few drinks. She already thought about mentioning his behaviour another day, when they – hopefully – established some sort of routine with each other as she pushed his drink in front of him and dropped down on the seat across from him, head spinning slowly, in an unrushed pace.
She was just about to pick their conversation about the dominance of Veela traits in descendants back up when Malfoy’s gaze made lose track of her trail of thoughts. In her vision, only his grey eyes remained, as he intently stared at her from across the wooden table in the noisy Leaky.
The words were trapped somewhere in the same trachea where their evening had started. Hermione opened her mouth, instantly thought she must look like a goldfish and closed it again, now extremely self-conscious about her messy bun, the layer of sweat on her upper lip and her frantic gaze from Malfoy’s eyes to his frowning mouth.
For lack of a better word, he appeared sad to Hermione. She tried to pinpoint where they had left off the conversation, looking for a clue where she had said something stupid. Slowly, she opened her mouth again.
Malfoy averted his eyes, dropping on his whiskey.
He sighed. “Thank you.”
Hermione stammered a reply, still wondering what had happened while she was gone. Her insecurity seemed to irritate Malfoy even more, he rubbed his eyes with both of his hands in a slow-motion and groaned almost inaudibly. He leaned back in his chair, his long legs carefully draped next to hers under the table, never quite touching. On various occasions that night, Hermione had heard a soft bump and had always assumed it must’ve been his one of knees that hit the table every time he shifted.
When he removed his hands from his face, Malfoy looked as shattered as he had before. It seemed so wrong on this man, always the epitome of composure and elegance. Even in the field, as a trainee, he appeared in control of every situation. On Thursdays, at the regulars’ table, he dominated the round merely by being such a stark contrast to the rest of them, with his bright hair, light skin, and impeccably straight posture.
Malfoy never sagged, not even after numerous whiskeys. He could raise his voice without automatically shouting as Harry did. He could direct his attention to someone by merely nodding briefly at them. His speech was always impeccable, whether he was stressed or tipsy. He never lost composure.
Yes, Hermione had paid attention to the enigma that was Draco Malfoy’s behaviour towards herself, and she had never seen him lose composure.
Hence, her breath stopped before speeding up excessively when he shifted forward, his elbows now resting on the table, and hid most of his face against his hands again. He was so tall; the table support automatically led him to cower slightly before her. Still, she had to look up to watch his emotions unfold before her.
Hunched Malfoy seemed so at odds with every observation Hermione had made over the past years. She briefly noticed how awkwardly unproportionate he seemed in comparison to the small table and the bench he sat on, but then Malfoy finally raised his voice again. All the effortless command it usually carried via ductus and volume, supported by the sheer size of his torso, had disappeared.
“Granger, how can you stand just sharing a table with me all evening?”
The question startled her so much, she just blinked rapidly at him, her pulse quickening. “I –”
He sighed and rubbed over his face with his hands once more before carefully placing them in front of his torso. His long fingers fiddled with a napkin on the table. His cheeks were flushed, and the corners of his mouth were facing downwards. The image reminded her of their Hogwarts days, but all animosity between them was gone. What remained was a healthy dose of anxiety after what had started as a civil evening.
He sighed again, still hunched in his seat. His eyes never left her face and Hermione struggled to meet his gaze, its intensity almost overwhelming her. The melancholy never left him.
“You testified at my trial – why?”
His voice was levelled, but not its usual nonchalant self – too quiet. Again, Hermione stumbled over his question. She knew the answer, didn’t she? She knew every answer to every question, and this one was so clear to her too. He was just a boy, not even of age. His family – his mother, especially – was in danger. He was – bully or not – just her classmate. He had looked so ridiculously skinny and unhealthy back in their sixth year, crying in the presence of a ghost living in a bathroom. He had stalled when they were captured and brought to the manor. He had not fought during the final battle. He had shown her every day since he had joined the department that the testimony was worth it.
And yet, the question stunned her.
He still sought her eyes with his. “What I want to say, Granger, is this. Whatever your reasoning, your testimony sealed my fate. You made it possible for me to join the auror squad. And I’m thankful.”
She furrowed her brows. “With all due respect, Malfoy, I really appreciate it. But Harry also –”
He interrupted her with a faint smile, but the sadness remained. “Potter has my thanks as well, rest assured. But you – I couldn’t believe it when they said your name. With Potter, I had a ridiculous rivalry. You– you never harmed me, Granger”, his voice cracked. “I depreciated you whenever I could, just to make myself feel better.”
He finally tore his gaze away from her. He was obviously ashamed. Hermione couldn’t reply. Her face was hot, her eyes roaming from Malfoy’s face to his still fiddling hands. She watched as he drew another breath.
All the noise in the pub had numbed around her a long time ago.
“Granger – Hermione – I’m incredibly sorry for how I treated you throughout our years in school. You never gave me any reason to despise you, and yet I did, based on what I now know is a ridiculous notion.”
She watched in awe as he pressed his thin lips together, obviously struggling with the situation, the words, but most of all, with himself. “You are the most impressive person I know. And in retrospect, I knew it a long time ago, but I was so preoccupied with working towards all the wrong goals. Please forgive me. For all the pain I caused you.”
Hermione stared at Malfoy, who had sought her gaze once more at the last sentence but now turned it back to the table, intently staring at the woodwork.
Hermione blinked once, twice, and then the noise of the pub returned to her ears as she slowly rose to her feet.
Malfoy, the tall man across from her, shrunk in his seat. He expected her to leave.  
Instead, Hermione made her way to his side of the table and found an even stance in front of him. Despite being seated on a bench in a pub, Malfoy’s face was almost at the same height as hers, small as she was.
Without another word, she unceremoniously dropped next to him on the bench. He jumped slightly, but Hermione caught his long, lithe fingers in her own and pressed them slightly.
“I forgive you, Draco. I forgave you a long time ago.”
His shoulders sagged next to her. A small breath escaped him, and his lips finally curled upward in the most beautiful way once more. His chin trembled.
She sought his eyes – no longer the usual, composed grey now, but a softer, darker hue.
Her thumbs slowly, tentatively began to stroke the back of his hands in reassurance, but he didn’t move, his eyes still trained on her face so close to his own.
Hermione leaned in and kissed him.
---
Author’s notes: This story is now also available to you on AO3 and I have an extra scene planned for you! It it almost finished and should land in the next couple of days. This format was fun! Although I have waded dangerously far away from drabble territory with some of them, length-wise. Thank you for following along and for being a part of it! 
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theheartsmistakes · 4 years
Text
The Last Night: Part XIX
A/N’s at the end:
Parts I-XVIII:
Here is Part I
Here is Part II
Here is Part III
Here is Part IV
Here is Part V
Here is Part VI
Here is Part VII
Here is Part VIII
Here is Part IX
Here is Part X
Here is Part XI
Here is Part XII
Part XIII
Part XIV
Part XV
Part XVI
Part XVII
Part XVIII
.XIX.
Earlier that evening…
After seeing his mother to her room for her afternoon nap, Alastair retired for the remainder of the evening in the Institute library. It was the one room in the house, other than the unbearably small closet sized guest bedroom that the Herondales so graciously gave to him, where he could be alone.
After the past week of excruciating pain while the runes and Silent Brother’s magic repaired the bones in his leg, the damage to his head, waiting for Cordelia to wake up, and answering the barrage of questions from anyone with a tongue to speak, he craved the precious minutes he could find of peace. Charles, unfortunately, conducted most of the questioning, which often left Alastair with a headache worse than the one he’d woken up with after being thrown by the demon and cracking his head on stone. Even when it was just the two of them alone, Charles remained callous and professional, only bothering to ask how Alastair was fairing, but he directed most of the questions to the Brother Zachariah rather than Alastair himself. It felt as if their relationship had been nothing more than a figment of Alastair’s feverish imagination. Alastair began to question if it all had, in fact, all been a dream.
Most moments of quiet were spent beside Cordelia. When his mother retired for the night, Alastair would take up her position beside his sister and watch her chest rise and fall like he’d done when his parents brought her home as a baby. She was so tiny then. As delicate, round, and soft as a baby bird with tufts of red hair that already curled around her ears. Only a year and a few months older than his baby sister, he’d sit next to her crib and watch her sleep. He’d listen to the small shushing noise her breathing made, until he’d fall asleep. At some point in the night, he would be placed back in his bedroom, tucked under the blankets, and left under the glowing stars his bedside witchlight made across his ceiling. It wasn’t until Cordelia was a year old, and he was nearly three, that he stopped falling asleep on her floor, but only because his parents made him.
When Cordelia was awake, he wasn’t much different. The first few months weren’t terrible. She slept most of the time except when she was hungry or needed a change. It wasn’t until she was four months that Alastair thought he’d keel over from anxiety. His irresponsible mother would just place her on a blanket on the floor where anything and everything could fall or step on her. Not only that, but as time went on she’d begun to put everything in her mouth from leaves that had fallen off the giant fern in the corner, to splotches of mud from boots, and pieces off of the rug. Alastair was always there to fish out the foreign object from her gummy mouth before she could choke. He’d give her a proper scolding and she’d respond with a toothless laugh and gurgle that made Alastair’s insides feel like mush.
Cordelia was the first word out of his mouth when he woke up from his injuries. He wasn’t certain, but he felt he’d dreamed about her. The remnants of nightmares lingered underneath his skin like he’d been submerged in ice cold water for too long and couldn’t shake the chill. When he woke up and found Cordelia being held in an induced coma while her body healed from injuries inflicted while he’d been unconscious, unable to rescue her, made it difficult for him to breathe or to think. He’d felt like that little boy again sitting beside her crib afraid that the moment he looked away, she’d stop breathing.
When she’d finally woken up, he’d felt a rush of relief. He needed a moment to compose himself in the hallway before he went through her door to find her sitting up in bed, smiling at him with her own relief. But she’d forgotten everything that happened to her since the moment they left the institute, since she broke her engagement with James after he’d properly humiliated her.
He’d meant to warn James against ever speaking to his sister again, but the boy was like a shadow. He slipped in and out of the Institute before Alastair ever had the chance. He visited Cordelia when Alastair was asleep or bathing or being interrogated. And now, she was off galavanting with him and there was nothing Alastair could do to stop it. He wasn’t about to upset his mother by demanding that Cordelia not go with James.
On his way to the library, he practiced the speech he’d give James when they returned. He may be able to worm his way into the good graces of his sister, but not Alastair. It would take a lot more than his pathetic sallow looks and natural wind blown curls to win Alastair over. After everything James has done, he didn’t deserve Cordelia and Alastair made it his mission to make sure that James knew it.
By the time he reached the library, his leg throbbed under his weight. He’d been trying to use his crutch less despite Brother Zachariah’s advice to keep off of it. The sound of his grunt echoed mockingly through the library as he pushed open the door with his shoulder and stumbled inside with a curse.
A fire burned behind the elaborate grate and already had a decent bed of coals forming underneath it as though it had been burning for some time. A stack of books sat on the coffee table that stood in-between the fireplace and the two wingback chairs.
“Christopher,” said a familiar voice. “Is that you?”
Alastair seized and turned for the door. He was nearly there when the library occupant emerged from the middle isle and stopped when Alastair came into his view.
“Oh,” said Thomas, closing the book in his hands. “It’s you. What are you doing here?”
“I thought the room was empty,” said Alastair, adjusting his weight to his good leg. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“How is your leg?” asked Thomas and tucked the book under his arm.
Alastair patted it with his hand. “It’s still there.”
“And your head?”
“Also there,” said Alastair. “The bandages itch something awful and I fear I���ll always have a slight pain in my knee when it’s about to rain, but otherwise, I am nearly mended.”
Thomas slid his hand into his trouser pocket. “Good. That’s good.”
“I never did thank you properly for coming to our aid,” said Alastair, braving a small chance at having a conversation with Thomas after not speaking with him since…well, since the night Matthew revealed Alastair’s deepest regrets. “I’m afraid of what would have happened if you had not come.”
“We did it for Cordelia,” said Thomas, without a note of sympathy in his tone.
“Right.” Alastair nodded. “Of course. Still, I offer you my thanks—“
“I don’t want your thanks,” said Thomas, turning his back to Alastair to return the book to the empty spot on the shelf. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“Thomas,” started Alastair as he braved a step closer. He felt as fragile as the thin ice that blooms on a lake at the start of winter. One wrong step and he’d break through. “I know what I’ve done to your family is unforgivable and if there is ever anything I can do to unravel the mess that I’ve created—“
“You can’t.”
“I understand but if there is—“
“My mother cried herself to sleep for months because of the lies you told,” said Thomas, calmly. “She locked herself in her bedroom and wouldn’t let my father in no matter how desperately he begged or how strongly he claimed the rumors were false. She made herself sick to the point where father left only so that she would come out of her room or let someone in to bring her food and water.” Warmth bloomed across Alastair’s face. He wanted to hang his head in shame and fall to his knees, broken or otherwise, and beg for Thomas’s forgiveness, but he did no such thing. Instead, he lifted his chin and continued to listen to the consequences of his actions. “She looked so frail when she finally emerged. Barbara was the first one she spoke to; the only one she spoke to. It took several more weeks before she’d even acknowledge my father. I think she had to convince herself that it wasn’t true before she could believe anyone else. I’m ashamed to admit that even I questioned the validity of it.”
Thomas took a deep breath, his eyes were rimmed with tears, and his mouth set in a hard line. “I just want to know why? Can you tell me at least that? Why attack me— my family?”
The truth dangled on Alastair’s tongue. The truth that would uncover every secret that Alastair buried deep inside and fought his whole life to remain unknown, to everyone, including his own beloved sister.
Because my father is a drunk.
Because I was afraid of anyone finding out the shame he’d caused my family for years.
Because the four of you: Matthew, James, Christopher, and you had something that I never had and would never have because I cannot allow people to get close enough to me in fear that they will be able to see the shame of my family; and they would see what I am. So I took the attention off of my family—off of me— and put it on yours and Matthew’s.
And I can never take it back.
“Tell me!” Alastair shuttered at the pain in Thomas’s voice. He’d never heard him shout, not once, even after Barbara died.
Maybe it was better if Thomas hated him. It meant his secrets were safe. In doing so, he’d keep Thomas from more ridicule and his family as well. Even if Thomas didn’t know it, he’d be doing him a favor. A small one that might cause more pain than redemption or forgiveness which they both seemed to be after.
So he’d let him hate him in hope that maybe one day the truth would be enough.
“I should go,” said Alastair, turning towards the door. “Cordelia should be arriving soon for supper.”
“You’re really going to walk away?” Thomas scoffed. “Are you such a coward that you can’t just tell me the truth?”
“What good would it do?” spat Alastair, the defense he’d carefully been building all of his life built up with even more strength. “You think there is some deep meaning behind my actions? Some explanation that will make me less of a monster. You were an easy target, the four of you. You were defenseless and weird and Matthew was the most irritating of you all. And I heard a rumor and I wanted to humiliate him, because I was bored, and because I could.”
Alastair’s chest ached as the tears spilled from Thomas’s eyes. He quickly wiped at them with his sleeve and when he looked at Alastair again, he recognized the hate that boiled behind his eyes. It was the same hate in his own eyes whenever he looked in a mirror.
“Get out,” whispered Thomas, his voice so low, Alastair almost didn’t hear him.
“Gladly,” said Alastair and pulled open the door. As he turned down the hall towards the staircase, he heard a loud bang hit the wall. He didn’t stop or hesitate, the tapping sound of his crutch hitting the wood flooring echoed through the hallway.
                                                             ____
The door to the staff hall groaned open just as Alastair walked down the last step. Lucie Herondale, shaking the rain from her hands and muttering something to herself, looked up in surprise to find Alastair standing at the end of the staircase. Her elegant blue dress was stained black at the hem and discolored with rain. Droplets glistened on her skin as she came to a stop underneath a glowing witchlight orb hovering above her. He waited a moment for Cordelia to come in behind her, as she so often does, but when she didn’t his eyes narrowed on Lucie.
“Where is Cordelia?” he asked, subtly gone from his tone as he was far too tired to pretend any longer.
“She was just behind—“
He didn’t wait for her to finish. He had an idea that he already knew.
He moved around Lucie, still muttering her excuses, and pushed open the staff hall door. A few of the maids gossiping in the hallway quickly moved out of his way. Teeth clenched, Alastair followed the trail of rain droplets that Lucie brought in with her until they came to an end at the staff exit. Before he could stop to think for a moment, he grabbed the door handle and yanked it open.
A blind rage consumed him at the vision standing on the little porch. James Herondale with his hands around Cordelia’s waist and mouth consuming hers while her own hands were tangled in his hair.
They broke apart like two dropped links at the sudden intrusion of light.
A high pitched whistle filled his ears. With hands trembling, he reached out and grabbed Cordelia’s arm, wrenching her inside. When James attempted to pursue, he pressed the end of his crutch into his chest and pushed. “Haven’t you done enough to ruin my sister’s reputation?”
“Alastair,” said Cordelia, gripping the arm that kept her behind him.
After a few steps backward, James regained his balance, and smiled a malicious grin that was void of any kindness. “Haven’t you grown tired of causing other people pain?”
“Pain?” Alastair seized with disdain. “What do you know of it in your privileged little life? I’ve taken responsibility for what I’ve done. Have you?” He took a limp step out onto the small brick laid porch. The witchlight lantern flickered with the energy crackling between the two of them. “You may have beguiled her into forgetting what you’ve done, but I certainly have not.”
“Alastair,” cried Cordelia as a crack of thunder rumbled through the sky. He heard the pain and desperation in her voice and he ignored it.
“You’re toxic and dangerous,” continued Alastair as he stepped out into the rain, advancing toward James. “Everything you touch becomes ruin. Trouble pursues you. You use people for your own selfish gain. I may have turned a blind eye before when I knew the engagement was a farce to repair my sister’s reputation, but I will not allow my sister to come into an honest romantic entanglement with the likes of a half-demon sycophant who is only using her for his own selfish gain.”
James’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared down at Alastair as though at any moment he would hit Alastair square in the jaw. Alastair wondered how much farther he’d need to push. What other buttons he’d need to press. “Walk away, Alastair.” James growled so low it was difficult to hear him.
“Or what?” Alastair met his glare. “Are you going to hit me? Go on then, do it.”
“I’m not like you,” said James as rain dripped down his face. “I won’t let you drag me down to whatever miserable level of hell you currently reside. I care about your sister and I’m trying to right my wrongs; I’ve made a lot of them I’ll admit, but I am trying. Can you say the same?”
The question shook through Alastair. The rain dripped down James’s face reminding him of the tears that spilled from Thomas’s face only moments ago because of Alastair’s words. It seemed the people he cared about were evaporating from his life, he wasn’t about to lose his sister too.
“Stay away from my sister,” said Alastair. “I won’t ask you again.”
“Alastair,” Cordelia hissed as he pushed her back into the house and closed the door before James could stop him. He clicked the lock into place as James jiggled the knob. With his crutch securely tucked under his arm, he grabbed Cordelia’s hand with the other. But before he could drag her along, she ripped free from him and pressed her back against the door.
“Don’t be stupid, Cordelia,” hissed Alastair. “You have to be smarter than this. Can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s trying to get back at me for what I did to him at the academy by hurting you!”
“I’m not stupid,” she spat back. Her hair hung in limp curls around her face. Her cheeks had more color in them than he’s seen in months. It irritated him further. “And he’s not. Unlike you he’s trying to move past all of that. You’re not children at the academy anymore, grow up! He cares about me and I care about him and neither of those things have anything to do with you.”
Alastair felt his chest explode, but only laughter burst from his lips. “He doesn’t care about you, Cordelia. He doesn’t. You don’t matter to him. You have to see that.”
“I do matter to him!”
“You don’t,” demanded Alastair. “I’ve seen the way he looks at Grace Blackthorn and it’s not the same way he looks at you. Have you forgotten what he’s done?”
“That was a misunderstanding,” said Cordelia, her eyes brimming. “He explained everything to me.”
“Did he?” asked Alastair. He pointed his finger at the door where James last stood. “How convenient that when he can’t have the girl that he’s actually in love with, he comes groveling back to the girl that gives her love so freely.” Cordelia’s cheeks bloomed red as she tore her eyes away from him. “He’s a liar and he’s trouble and you’re not to see him ever again, do you understand me?”
“You cannot forbid me to see him.”
“Yes, I can.” Alastair glared. “Because if I find out that you are seeing him, I will tell everyone that he was the one that burned down Blackthorn manor and the night we left it was he who was in Grace Blackthorn’s bedroom when you walked in.”
Cordelia looked at him as if he had struck her. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being this way?”
Alastair shook. “I am trying to stop you from making a horrible decision.”
“Stop trying to protect me!” Cordelia demanded. “I don’t criticize you for your choices on who to involve yourself with and I do not appreciate being told who I can or cannot love anymore than you do.” She smoothed the wet hair away from her face. “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t say a word of those secrets. How dare you throw them in my face to accomplish your own vindications. I will not be your pawn in this long standing war you have with him. If you say a word of those secrets to anyone, I will never speak to you again. Then you will truly be alone.”
She shouldered around Alastair, her skirts dripped water as she passed him, and this time Alastair didn’t reach out to stop her.
A/N: Good evening! I hope your October is going splendidly so far. I am experiencing some moderate to extreme anxiety due to work related issues. My job before quarantine has not asked me to return yet, so I found and started a freelance writing job, which in theory should be really exciting, but I have ZERO self-confidence in myself or my writing. So, I’m working through that. This chapter was a fun escape for me. I hope you guys enjoy it! Please hit that cute little heart, drop a lovely comment, and reblog if you feel so inclined. As always, be safe, take care of yourself, and stay healthy out there. Next update will be in two weeks, Nov 1.
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peter-pan-hoe · 4 years
Text
Old Friends Pt 1
Guess Who’s Back Bitches
(Sorry for calling you bitches im just very excited. I love every single of of yall and Im so happy you guys have stuck around during this ridiculous hiatus and i hope to be posting more soon. I just got off my ass today and was like “Alright ya cow its time to write” and i did. Here is the oldest request ive had waiting in my inbox for literal years im so sorry this took so long. Here is part one of what will hopefully be a new series. I’ve taken it in a different direction to start with but i will be swinging it around to meet the request in later parts. So happy to be back. Ive missed you. I love you. Here we go xx)
“So like maybe Peter, y/n, an all the lost boys are having this huge dinner, hanging out and that, and then somehow, for revenge, The Dark One sends one of Peter’s old lovers to the island. That night Peter sneaks off to greet the girl who is STILL in love with him, maybe she puts him under her spell to forget about the reader and then they like almost do da nasty or something and I guess I can leave you to the rest.”
Requested by @bellakae
Warnings: swearing, legit like one f-bomb
I did my best to make Y/N gender neutral but being a cis female I may have missed some gender identifiers when editing and I apologise 
tag list:  @dina3s @just-meh-and-me-dogs @xcastawayherosx @lexymeg
sorry to anyone i forgot. I couldnt find all the asks or my updated tag list. Comment bellow or dm me if you want to be added to the tag list xx
 Every time there’s a new batch of lost boys, or ever just one, to arrive on the island, we have a welcome feast.
The hunter and forager boys gather as much stuff they can find and the cooks put together a huge meal. Given out of the 47 of us that there’s only 6 cooks, we usually have some extra to help out.
When there’s a big group it’s usually because Peter went to the mainland to find boys and bring them here because they weren’t happy at home.
There was that time that 5 or six boys rocked up because they made their way here together.
But if it’s just the one boy, they’re the believers. The ones who wished their way here.
This time around however was because Peter had gone to the mainland.
He usually seemed very happy whenever he came back.
Well no less happy than usual.
He wasn’t sad or angry or quiet like today.
When he returned early this morning with the latest group of boys, he came into our shared hut and stared out the window until morning.
Usually if it’s a late night he would have woken me up to say he was back.
He hadn’t needed to wake me up this time as him simply entering the room had roused me. But he didn’t even look over at me as he walked passed our bed to his little seat on the window sill.
I figured something must be up so I sat up and pretended I hadn’t heard him come home.
  “Oh hey,” I said, faking a yawn. “When did you get back?”
He looked at me with a forced smile.
  “Just a little while ago,” he hopped down from his perch by the window and came to sit beside me. “Did I wake you?”
He gave me a gentle kiss on the head and the leaned down to untie his boots.
  “No I don’t think so,” I lied and shook my head. “I just woke up and you were there,”
He didn’t say anything as he kicked of his boots and put his feet up on our bed.
  “Is everything okay?” I asked. “You seem a little distracted,”
  “yeah I’m alright,” he sighed. “Just ran into an old friend while I was out getting the new boys,”
  “Okay 2 things,” I started. “First is, how are the boys? And how many? And the second thing, was this old friend still a friend or are you not on good terms?”
  “They boys are good,” he replied with a stifled yawn.
I could tell he was very tired, but not his usual physical exhaustion. He seemed tired in his mind.
  “I brought home 14 boys,” he continued. “The youngest 7 and the oldest 17,”
  “That’s a lot,” I said sadly. “All those boys – a 7 year old – lost and lonely,”
  “Mmm,” he nodded in agreement.
  “So what about your friend?” I pressed carefully.
I don’t want to upset him.
  “I’m not really sure,” he sighed. “We didn’t end on good terms but she seemed happy to see me. She even wanted to come back here with us,”
This answer surprised me.
  “She?” I asked nervously.
  “Yeah,” he looked at me apologetically. “Clara. An old… partner of mine,”
  “Partner as in lover?” I asked. “I don’t mind you talking about your ex’s. I’ve got some too y’know,”
I tried to lighten the solemn mood with a giggle.
  “You mean I’m not your first love?” he feigned shock, gasping dramatically and putting his hand over his heart.
  “Oh but you are the truest,” I collapsed into his chest with a laugh.
He held me tight as he lay back on our bed, so I was leaning back onto him.
  “But yes, to answer your question,” he said as he absentmindedly played with a few strands of my hair. “Clara was my old lover. She was someone I met a long time ago,”
I thought about how things would have been with Peter and this Clara.
  “Did she live here like me?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Like I’d told him, I don’t have an issue with him having past lovers. I mean who doesn’t?
  “No,” he said quietly. “We weren’t really bonded like you and I are,”
  “So how did you see her?” I asked as I reached up to brush some of my hair back.
  “Made more trips to the mainland I guess,” he shrugged. “I still only picked up new boys once a month but I went to see her weekly,”
  “But you two weren’t romantically affiliated?” I questioned.
  “Well I wasn’t,” he admitted with a guilty face. “She was very emotionally invested in our… relationship. Whereas I was not,”
  “Oh Peter…” I sighed. “Did you break her heart?”
  “I guess,” he shrugged again. “She started getting really clingy. She didn’t want to come here. I never really found out why but she insisted that our meeting were to take place on the mainland. She began asking me to stay for longer periods of time. Once to the point that Felix came to find me because Neverland’s weather started to turn to a freezing winter. She’d convinced me to stay for weeks at a time more than once,”
  “But she was the only one romantically invested?” I reiterated.
He gave a solemn nod.
  “That’s fucked,” I lay back in the bed and yawned. “How did the encounter go this time?”
  “She seemed the same,” he said carefully. “Like she didn’t even remember that we ended badly,”
  “How so?” I pressed.
  “I came across her in a town market and she ran to me like she was so happy to see me,” he continued.  “She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me like she used to when we hadn’t seen each other for a time. I’m not sure she even realises how long its been,”
He became quiet, thinking.
  “How long has it been?” I could feel my eyelids getting heavy and my voice came out as almost a whisper.
  “Thirty odd years or so,” he brushed some loose hairs from my face, just touching for the sake of touching. “But she left so quickly this time I didn’t even have a chance to ask her why she seems this to be like this. She just said she had errands to run and had to go. That she would see me soon,”
  “That sounds ominous,” I mumbled.
I was processing as much of this as I could in my tired state. I suppose Peter could sense that I was barely awake.
  “Go back to sleep, love,” he kissed my forehead. “We can talk more about it in the morning. Sleep Y/N, we have a big day of celebration to prepare for tomorrow,”
He didn’t have to tell me twice as id already started to drift off from him gently stroking the side of my face.
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