#there’s mugs still scattered across the entire floor at their desks. sorry but that’s NOT PART OF MY JOB!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iceeckos12 · 3 years

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and he sees dawn before the rest of the world

or: a fucked up little au of 200. intended to be unsettling so just be warned warnings for: unreality (i think that’s the appropriate term? please lmk if not), implied self harm, fucked up relationship dynamics; lmk if i should tag anything else

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face, as though he could stop the barrage of sound just by covering his eyes. His alarm was unsympathetic to his whinging, continuing to scream its daily mourning dirge, grieving the end of another period of blessed rest. “Fine, fine! I’m getting up, christ…”

He reached clumsily for the phone on his bedside table, only for his fingers to scrabble uselessly around the ghost of its presence. He was momentarily so stymied by the absence that it took him longer than it should’ve to remember that he’d moved it to his desk, to prevent him from giving into the temptation to hit the snooze button just one more time.

Letting out another slew of curses, Martin shuffled onto his other side and reached for

A jaw-cracking yawn near split Martin’s face in two as he hunched over the gleaming tea kettle, steam beginning to pour from the spout. He shuffled his feet, eyes meandering sightlessly over the cow-shaped mug drying on the counter, the cluster of crumbs that he must’ve missed when cleaning up after dinner last night.

He hated mornings. Maybe it was the preemptive dread he felt at the thought of going to work; maybe it was because he hated having to be upright this early in the morning. Either way, he felt strangely disconnected from his morning routine, each motion carried out with habitual, distant efficiency as his thoughts raced along like a hamster on a wheel just below the surface.

It...was a bit silly for him to be worried about work, though. The stuff he was doing was interesting, and he had the loveliest coworkers a guy could ask for. They’d even offered to teach him a thing or two about artifact restoration once they learned the truth about his CV.

He drew himself up to his full height and rolled his shoulders back, clouded sigh mingling with the fog from the boiling water. Things were going well. Hell, he was actually going to get top surgery sometime in the next year or so, which was amazing considering his teenage self would’ve laughed at the very idea of being out.

There was no reason to dread going to work.

Martin carefully poured the water into the mug, letting the tea steep before adding a splash of milk and sugar. When he picked the mug up, the heat from the tea had bled into the ceramic, so warm as to be uncomfortable against the delicate skin of his palms. He didn’t let go, just kept on gripping the mug, like trying to contain the last gasp of a dying star.

Martin stared around his kitchen. The waterstains on the inside of the cow mug slowly evaporating into the still air; the crumbs that had sat there for who knows how long. The empty, blank face of his fridge.

Martin lifted the mug, and steam collected on his glasses as his breath wafted over the surface of the tea. He drew away, waiting for the lenses to clear, before leaning in for another sip.

His reflection stared back at him, a monochrome facsimile of his face rimmed in white smoke, and he recoiled, the mug slipping from

Working nine to five, what a way to make a living…

Martin stared out the window, his hand pillowed in the palm of his hand as Dolly Parton crooned in his ears. Split second by split second, he let his eyes catch on a point in the darkened surroundings, only letting his vision blur into incoherence when that fixed point whipped out of sight. It was a game he sometimes played when he got bored of reading or playing cards on his phone.

The old woman across from him let out a quiet grunt and shuffled, drawing his attention back inside the train. She was a gnarled old thing, bowed by the gravity of grief and time and life, though Martin couldn’t say for certain whether it was one well-lived.

Barely getting by, it’s all taking and no giving...

That was the thing about people watching: Martin was never quite sure if it was disrespectful to make assumptions about a person’s life based on a passing glimpse. He could never be sure if the person with the grumpy expression had a foul attitude, or if they were just a kind person on the tail-end of a truly awful day.

The old woman was knitting though, and Martin generally found it safe to assume that knitters were nice people.

For a moment he thought about taking out his headphones and striking up a conversation; the pattern looked devilishly complicated, and as a beginning knitter, he always appreciated tips. There was an unfinished set of fingerless green gloves in the back of his closet; it was easy for hands to get cold in the Archives, and the color suited

“Alright, Martin?”

Martin startled, his pen clattering to the floor. He looked up to find Sasha perched on the edge of his desk, grinning like the cat who’d just eaten the canary. Or, he thought she was. His eyes kept skittering from one corner of her face to the other, like a smooth stone skipping across a lake.

“Uh…” Frowning slightly, he let his gaze travel over the shelves of books, the humming lights, his cluttered workstation. He removed his glasses so he could rub at his aching eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Probably just the stress. “Yeah—yeah! Sorry, I’ve been distracted all morning.”

Martin got the impression of Sasha’s grin being tempered with genuine concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?”

“I think so. Just...work, and my mum…” he gave an expansive you know sort of gesture at life in general. “Thank god the weekend’s coming. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come get drinks with Mel and Tim and I after work, but…” She cut him a meaningful glance, the bottomless holes where her eyes should be boring bright spotlights into the back of his skull. “We’d understand if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Is Georgie coming?”

Sasha shrugged. “Probably. Mel didn’t say so, but they’ve been all over each other since they started dating.”

Martin laughed. “True.” Tried to gauge how he was feeling, whether or not he was up to a night of socializing. You should go, a strangely posh little voice murmured in the back of his head, and he found himself saying, “Actually yeah, I would like to come. I could use a night out.”

Sasha clapped him on the shoulder, and the impact rattled through him like a gong being struck. The echoes of it vibrated all the way down to his toes. “Excellent.”

Martin hesitated, and then, not entirely sure of what he was asking, “What about J

“Thanks for waiting with us,” Georgie said, smiling beatifically up at him. Passed out on her shoulder, Melanie let out a drunken snuffle and curled over, like she was thinking of climbing through the spaces of Georgie’s ribcage and sleeping in her chest cavity forever.

“Not a problem,” Martin replied, scratching the back of his neck.

To be honest, waiting with her was as much for his benefit as theirs. At first, he’d thought it was just stress; now, he was very sure that something was wrong. It wasn’t anything specific, or even bad; more like there was a sepia camera filter tinting the world dusty and nostalgic.

After his third drink, he’d looked into Tim’s laughing face and thought he might burst into tears. And he still didn’t know what Sasha was supposed to look like.

But he didn’t want to worry her, so he just bit his lip and rocked back and forth on his heels, even though the motion made his head spin that much worse.

(Maybe he needed to take a couple of days off. Have a lie-in. But that would—that would delay his work. The Institute’s work. Delays were bad; he felt strongly enough about that to carve it directly into his skin so that he’d never forget. He could roll down his sleeve and take a peek at it whenever his motivation slipped, like checking a watch for the time.)

For lack of anything else to say, he nodded toward Melanie. “She’s really out, huh?”

“She’s always been a lightweight.” Her tone was wry, but her eyes were soft and fond as she brushed Melanie’s bangs back from her face. “Never gets hungover though, the lucky bastard.”

“The nerve!” Martin said, affecting offense, which sent them right into another giggling fit.

Once he got his breath back, Martin mentioned offhand, “You know, considering how similar they are, I’m surprised that her and J̷̧̱̜͕͕̤͉̣̺̺̝͖̠̹̜͙̣͉̩̺̤̟͉͓̞̹̗́̆̂̋͆̊̎́͂̑͋̌͊͘̚͠ͅo̶̧̨͕̖͔̬̖̝̪͚̻̟̠̜̣̰̅n̶̥̉́̎͑̀͂͆̿̾͛̾̔̐͌́̅̂͂̒̆̐́͊̄̾̍̅̅͝

“Stop it!” Martin screamed, grabbing the mug from the counter and throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall, scattering shards of ceramic across the floor. “I know

“What you’re doing,” Martin gripped the bathroom counter, ignoring the persistent ringing of his alarm, staring deeply into his reflection, “Stop it, stop it, nononon̴̡̡͚̮̠͙̻͔͎͈̜̓̈́̈́͜͜ͅǫ̸̯̠̱̖̲͙͍͎͒̇̑͒ṅ̶̨̩̳̩̝̹̳͎͈̬̦͆́̈́́͐̏̈́̕͝͝o̸̡̻̱̗̥̮̙̳̞͗̄͋̈́̀͝n̸̢̛̟͙̘̱̩͕̦̫̤̮͆͑̊͋́̂̽͜o̶̘̱̗̘̘͑̿͜ņ̶̥̞̠͕͓̠͔͚̮͈̬͕̀͗̄̓͑͑͛̕ͅő̸��̮̫͌̾̌͋́̂̏̒̃̃̄̚n̵̗̫͕̺̻͔̭͖̉͒͗̀̈́̃̅o̴͓͉͉͗͋̎̕—”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s okay—”

“No!” Martin shrieked, shoving Jon’s hands away, skittering backward across the broken and cracked stones of the Panopticon. Through the arched windows, the sky was a poisonous green and black, and multitudes of eyes orbited the room, watched his every movement with sickening fascination. “Just—stop.”

Luminous gaze weary and resigned, Jon did as he was bid, dropping back onto his heels.

Rubbing sweat and grime and tears from his face, breathing harshly through his mouth, Martin took a moment to remember where he was, why he was here. It always took a moment for everything to come back.

As though unable to keep silent any longer, Jon asked, “So what was it this time?”

“Don’t,” Martin hissed, dragging his hands through his greasy hair.

Though his expression went mulishly annoyed, Jon raised his hands placatingly, a silent, alright, you win. It was a familiar gesture, one that he’d done so many times while they were living in Scotland, while they were traveling the devastated landscape of the apocalypse. It made Martin ache for when things were simpler, when his heart didn’t just feel like one big bruise.

He gently set the thought aside, and turned a more assessing eye on the Panopticon. Normally the changes were insignificant, but something thick and red and black had started to coil around the windows, weaving in and out of the floor, cracking the stonework. Martin traced the strange things with his eyes, frowning—

“Christ, Jon,” he whispered in horrified realization. “Are...are those corpse roots?”

Jon bobbed his head. “They’ve long since overtaken the rest of London. It’s just us, now.”

Martin sucked in a long, frustrated breath through his teeth. There was no point trying to talk any sense into Jon, not after so long, and force would only result in immediately getting kicked back into that horrible dream world.

“And the others?”

Jon shrugged, tracing the cracks in the earth with his fingers. “Still alive, and living happily in the dream I made for them.” He didn’t say, unlike you, but the implication was so loud he might as well have screamed it.

“Shut up,” Martin muttered, pushing to his feet and limping to one of the windows.

Corpse roots, as far as the eye could see. They covered the city of London in a blanket of tangled black, so thick that it was impossible to see the buildings beneath.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, sagging against the side of the window, too tired to be angry.

When the silence persisted a second too long, Martin turned around to find Jon with his head tilted back, examining the corpse roots consuming what had once been the Beholding’s seat of power, expression distant and thoughtful. The eyes, ever-watching, never understanding, drifted closer, greedily drinking in the sight.

When Martin realized that Jon wasn’t planning on answering, he let out another sigh, ruffled his bangs away from his face, and said, “You’re never there.”

Jon’s gaze snapped to him with a laser-edged focus. “Sorry?”

“If you’re going to trap me in a dream,” Martin said, each syllable clipped and precise, “You could at least be there.”

Like it always did, Jon’s face crumpled, and he looked away. “...I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, we’re well past that and you know it!” Martin shrieked, striking his fist against the stone. “You made your fucking decision to damn the world, to hell with whatever we thought, the least you could do is stop hiding behind your pointless guilt and act like this is what you actually want!”

It would’ve been better, if Jon had simply become drunk with power and was no longer listening to reason. The fact that he’d made this same decision every single day with clear, unclouded eyes and sound judgement—as Jon the human, rather than Jon the lynchpin of the apocalypse, pupil of the Eye—made Martin want to scream.

“I do want it!” Jon snapped back, then quieter, “I do.” He looked up at the corpse roots again, eyes going misty. “I just—I should witness every second of misery and pain that I’m causing. I don’t deserve to just...forget.”

Wind snapped and howled around them like a creature mad with rage, and Martin idly wondered what would happen to this world once Jon died. If it would all go back to the way it had been before, or if the shell of the apocalypse would remain until the end of time, a corpse husk of a reality warped beyond repair.

“You shouldn’t have to experience this alongside me though,” Jon continued, rallying. “So I would really appreciate it if you’d stop breaking your dreams.”

“Tough,” Martin snapped back, folding his arms obstinately over his chest.

“You could be happy!” Jon reiterated, stabbing his index finger into the palm of his hand. “You could just...live your life! Forget! There’s no point in being here.”

“It’s a deal, remember? Where you go, I go. Fuck you very much, but I don’t break my promises.”

Jon stared at him for one beat, then another—and then promptly burst out laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it. Martin stared at him, utterly bewildered, as the laughing slowly began to dissolve into desperate, heaving sobs, as he began rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around himself in a mockery of comfort.

“I miss you,” Jon gasped out, half-crazed. “So much. I miss you every day even though you’re right in front of me. But I can’t go to you, because I don’t deserve to, not when I’m the one who trapped you here. I’m everything that’s wrong with the world. I always have been.”

“Jon,” Martin sighed, low and tired.

Jon buried his face into his knees. “No, you shouldn’t—you shouldn’t forgive me just because you pity me, that’s not what I—I don’t—”

“Who said anything about forgiveness?” Martin shook his head. “Fine. You’re an asshole, and I hate you. But it’s like I said.” He gestured toward the Panopticon, the roots, the poisonous sky. “When has deserving ever mattered?”

Jon lifted his face from his knees, though his gaze stayed rooted to the floor. “...I suppose.”

“Right,” Martin agreed. “I’ve accepted that you’re not going to change your mind, but...at the very least, I don’t want to die alone. So can you please just…”

There was a long, weighted pause.

They’d had arguments like this what felt like hundreds of times before. Martin begging for Jon to change his mind, Jon refusing with that same resigned, determined expression on his face, before sending Martin back into his dreams.

Maybe it was because Martin wasn’t asking him to change his mind this time. Maybe it was because they were so close to the end of all things, and soon they’d be the last two people on earth. Maybe it was because Jon was tired, had been for so, so long, and he had won anyway, so there was no point in fighting any longer.

“Alright,” Jon whispered.

…

...

Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Martin hissed, throwing an arm across his face.

Somewhere in the far distance, the toilet flushed. A moment later, a pair of feet padded lightly into the room, hesitated at the edge of the bed, and then made their way over to the desk. The alarm abruptly went silent.

Martin uncovered his eyes and grinned up at Jon as he tentatively slid back between the covers, every movement careful and deliberate, like he was reading stage directions from a script.

“Look at Mr. Workaholic, having a lie-in,” Martin teased, pulling Jon into his arms and inhaling the scent of his coconut shampoo. “Must be the end of the world, or something.”

Jon stiffened for just a moment, before turning around and burying his face into Martin’s chest. “Or something.”

#iceeckos12 writes #my writing #tma #jonmartin but make it especially tragedy flavored

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imgoingtohellsofuckit · 4 years

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But Baby Bird

Cheating!Hawks x Reader

Warning - Cheating! Toxic ass behavior.

Summary - You catch Hawks cheating on you - and you decide to take him down a peg

Apparently cheating Hawks is a trend right now? And like I’m down... But in my way. Also listen to the glee version of Bust your windows and it 100% fueled this.

Today was a normal day for you. You got off at work, went to pick up something for dinner, and headed home for the night. Work had been stressful. All the heroes at your agency seemed to need a hundred things. And running the behind the scenes of the agency was already hard enough. So you were longing to be home. In the arms of your fiancé. He’s always great with helping you recover from a bad day.

As you walk into the penthouse you notice a distinct lack of Hawks. Normally he greats you at the door- a drink and hand and a sweet kiss. However he was no where to be found. You don’t think too much on it. You’ve been at the office extra late the last couple weeks and with his hero work you know it brings natural conflicts in your schedules. However the pros boots at the door reveal he’s here. Still he could be asleep. He is one for laying around in his free time.

“Hawks baby?” You call “I’ve got us dinner.”

He doesn’t reply. You roll your eyes setting down the takeout bag on the kitchen counter. Starting to set it up. Knowing he’d be grateful to wake up to the meal. You move to grab some paper towels only to catch site of two wineglasses in the sink.

“The fact he can’t just reuse a dish-” You groan lightly.

“Baby bird-” You hear a distant groan. You move looking down the hall to the bedroom. “Oh Baby Bird.”

“He couldn’t fucking wait for me,” You growl, “what a tool.” You move marching towards the bedroom. Clearly annoyed that your boyfriend started with out you. ”Hawks I’m sure I’m better than your hand-”

The scene in front of you isn’t that of catching your partner jerking it off... No instead it’s Hawks balls deep in on of the interns from his agency.

“No fucking way,” You say harshly. Hawk looks over at you. Eyes wide. Guilt filling his expression.

“Love Bird-” Hawks start pulling away from the girl. The intern moving to grab the blankets from your bed to cover herself. Hawks standing and pulling his boxers from the ground as you stared at the scene.

The emotions flooding over you weren’t deafening. The anger. The sadness. The helplessness. The shock. All blending into an overwhelming mess. You just walked in on your fiancé fucking his intern. The man everyone warned you about proving their point.

For a moment you don’t do anything. Then you just start to laugh.

“This isn’t- let me jus explain.”

“Explain what?” You ask him laughing lightly, “that you’re fucking some bimbo from your office?”

“Y/n-”

“Fuck off Keigo,” You say harshly, “I’m done. I hope you and your little slut over there have fun...”

“Babe-”

You pull away harshly.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” You spit back.

You left. Wanting to be anywhere but there. So you ended up over at Rumi’s. Your friend giving you the usual break up kit. The pajama, ice cream. The whole nine yards. She tried to cheer you up as you sobbed. You wanted to understand why the hell he’d do that. Why he’d risk your relationship of 4 years all for a girl who’s barely legal. You wonder how long he’s been letting this happen? If she’s the only girl?

“Fuck Keigo,” Rumi says harshly.

“I tried that- didn’t work out so well in the end,” You say slightly amused. She laughs lightly.

“That’s the spirit babe,” She says, “he sucks- but he’s a learning exprience. Now you can go find a guy who treats you right-”

“Or I can burn his apartment down,” You say harshly.

“That’s an option,” She says, “I’m sure you’re dad will love that one. Mr. Hero Commission watching his sweet daughter burn her fiancé’s house to the ground.”

“You think he’d let that get out?” You ask her slightly amused, “man would have that covered up in a heart beat.”

“Well as much as I love the arson- let’s think smaller,” Rumi says, “like moving on... Show him what he lost.... And he lost the hottest bitch he’ll ever see.” You chuckle through the light tears. Moving to wipe them away. “Now no tears- pretty bitches down cry over fuck boys.” I laugh lightly. “Step one to cheering up is get under some hot guy- how’s Zawa sounding?”

“As much as I’d love to tread that wave of daddy issues- I can’t even think about that right now,” You say sadly, “Hawks and I were supposed to get married! I spent our entire relationship defending him from people telling me it would end up this way. I feel stupid.”

“That’s not your fault,” Rumi says, “you love him... Besides you aren’t the only girl who’s ever gotten hurt this way... Heroes fucking suck. Whores... All of them. They’ll stick it in anything that has a pulse- and even that’s not stopping them sometimes.”

“Ew,” You chuckle sadly. She starts to laugh.

“Bird man sucks- and you deserve so much more,” She tells you, “I promise you that this will only bring you closer to the guy who’s gonna treat you right.”

“Thanks Rumi,” You tell her. She moves pulling you into a hug.

“Any time song bird,” She says. When she pulls back she gives you a firm look. “Now go to bed- we’ve got moving out to do tomorrow.”

“Fine,” You tell her.

You try to head to sleep. You really do. But you barely get a wink when the sun starts shining through the large windows in Rumi’s living room. Outside you can hear birds chirping. The sound fills you to your core with anger. Stupid birds... Stupid Hawks. You toss a shoe at the window. The birds immediately flee.

“I know the man with wings fuck you over but don’t take it out on the birds,” Rumi says chuckling lightly. You look back to see her in the kitchen. She’s in her hero costume. Her bunny ears standing tall. “Morning song bird.”

“Ew” You groan, “I don’t want to hear that nickname ever again.”

“Oh come on I called you that before he who shall not be named ever did,” Rumi says, “your mother gave you that nickname. Don’t let him ruin it.”

“Too late,” You say as you stand from the couch. Moving over to grab a cup of coffee. Rumi rolls her eyes lightly at your comment. “I’m going to get my stuff- you still gonna be able to do that?”

“Sorry Y/n I got called in for patrols if you wanna wait here-”

“No I’m gonna go get a head start,” You tell her, “It’ll go faster that way anyways. You got any boxes?”

“No but Aizawa does- and he’s meeting us at yours to help move your stuff,” She says, “I’m giving you another chance to fuck him.” You roll your eyes roughly. “Come on! He’s hot- and before Hawks you would of killed to get under that man.”

“There was a lot I’d do pre hawks - but a lot of thats changed,” You tell her, “so I guess I’ll meet you there?”

She heads out for work. And you go through the basics of getting ready. You had called your boss to tell them you needed the day for a family emergency. This was kinda a emergency. Honestly you just couldn’t handle needing to run around for everyone else after all of that.

The penthouse isn’t too far from Rumi’s house. It’s a ten minute taxi ride. You stand out in front of the door for a minute. Anger slowly filling you as your mind replays the events of last night. You shove it away and finally open the door. The light of the morning reveals what you didn’t notice last night. Napkins with lipstick on the table. A few spare feathers on the couch. Small signs of the build up. You scoff loudly. Marching back to your room. You’re thankful that the intern isn’t there. Even more thankful Hawks isn’t. You start in the closet first. Grabbing your clothes in armfuls and tossing them onto the floor of the bedroom. Next you move to the dresser. Pulling the drawers out to dump your belongings out. You can hear the soft moans fill your ears on repeat. Keigo calling her baby bird. Something he’s called you a million times. You growl lightly. Trying to focus on getting your things. As your grabbing the picture of you and your late mother you notice a picture of you and Keigo the night he proposed. You were so happy. He promised it would be you two for the rest of you life. You move grabbing the frame. You don’t even know why. But it doesn’t stay in your hands long. In a split second your slamming it against the wall. Then you move tossing the other ones of you and Keigo on the floor. Glass is everywhere. You don’t care. You rip the frames off the wall letting them smash as well.

You calm down a bit. Moving to the bathroom to grab your stuff. However you catch yourself in the reflection. Smirking lightly as you catch the tube of lipstick on the counter. You uncap it and lean forward. Writing the word ‘Cheater’ across the glass in large red letters. Satisfied you toss the lipstick in your makeup bag then grab it to move it with the rest of your stuff. Next you move into the office. More pictures in frames around the room. You pull the down tossing them at the wall. Not caring about the scattering glass or the memories your destroying. You grab one of the markers from your desk to keep up with the redecoration. Scribbling ‘Whore’ ‘Player’ and other insults across the wall. You don’t care about what your doing. All you care about is the inconvence he’ll have cleaning this all up.

You move dragging the marker along the walls as you head out to the kitchen. Opening the shelves to toss plates and bowls on the ground.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You turn to see Keigo. He seems to be just walking in. He’s got his costume on. You smirk lightly as you drop a stack of plates on the ground. “Oops.”

“Y/n what the hell?!”

“You don’t like the redecoration? That’s a shame,” You say.

“Are you still mad?”

You don’t answer. Instead you let the teapot you toss at his head answer for you. He barely ducks it.

“Listen what happened-”

You move throwing a mug at him. He steps out of the way and it smacks the floor behind him.

“It was an accident.”

“You accidentally fucked her?” You ask harshly, “oh that’s the dumbest excuse I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“I meant it was a mistake- I messed up.”

“Oh shut the fuck up Keigo,” You growl, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“We need to talk about this- like adults not throw a tantrum!”

You angrily toss the toaster at him. He smacks it away from him.

“You’re acting like a child!”

“You cheated on me!” You shout, “don’t give me that acting like a child shit.”

“I’m trying to talk to you and you’re throwing shit- so yeah you’re acting like a child,” He shouts back.

“Fine Keigo - what’s you’re excuse?” You ask him, “what lead you to this mistake?”

“You’re never around and I felt so alone-”

You don’t let him finish. You’re tossing the silverware drawer at him.

“You’re blaming you fucking your intern on me!” You scream, “oh my fucking god! You’re a joke.”

“Let me explain-”

“I- don’t- want- to - hear - it!” You scream in between tossing wine glasses at him. You’ve made a terrible mess of your kitchen. You couldn’t care less though. All you can think about is Keigo standing in front of you trying to blame him cheating all on you.

“Stop throwing shit!”

“Keep your dick in your pants!” You scream back.

“Did this little tantrum make you feel better?”

“No!” You scream, “you broke my heart Keigo! You cheated on me! I can’t believe you don’t understand why I’m so upset-”

“I’m trying to explain-”

“You’re trying to blame me!”

“Just let me talk!”

“No!” I scream, “I don’t care! I don’t want to hear your stupid reason!”

“Baby bird I love you-”

“HOW DARE YOU CALM ME WHAT YOU CALLED HER!” I scream on the top of my lungs. Anger radiating off of me. “You stupid- fucking- asshole!” More of the kitchenware goes flying. He’s dodging them. Mumbling explanations. You stop. Laughing lightly. He watches you clearly confused. You grab the lamp from the table and toss it straight into the middle of the TV.

“Babe oh my god!”

“Shut the fuck up! I’m done! I’m done letting you walk all over me! Defending you when you clearly don’t deserve it! And I’m done trying to love you when you clearly don’t love me!”

You yank the ring off your finger and toss it at him.

“We’re done.” I say firmly. He looks at me. Tears starting to well in his eyes. Suddenly the anger fades. You just felt numb. Over it all.

“Hey Y/n- Oh my god.”

You see Rumi and Shota at the door. Looking over the disaster of an apartment. Concern covering their faces.

“Are you okay?” Shota asks, “did he hurt you?”

You chuckle lightly.

“You think he did this?” You ask him, “I’m fine- Let’s get my shit and go... I don’t want to be here for another second.” You move past Hawks over to your friends.

“But Baby Bird,” Hawks says lightly. You look back to the man.

“Maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat-” You tell him, “see ya Bird Man.”

#cheating hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #mha x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #cheating hawks x reader #cheatinghawks

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nonstoplover · 3 years

Text

happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley

summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.

pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader

words: 5K

meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'

(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write

a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx

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(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.

What the hell?

She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.

Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.

In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.

"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.

And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.

- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -

Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.

She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.

After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.

"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."

If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?

Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.

So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.

And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.

As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.

She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.

Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.

Friday the 13th.

Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.

- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -

The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.

"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.

She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.

"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.

And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.

"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.

"My family home."

The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.

- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.

Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.

Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.

"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.

His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.

Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.

The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.

He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.

From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.

- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.

"You broke your leg."

"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.

"Mu... a what?"

"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.

"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"

"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.

"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."

"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."

"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.

- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -

"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.

Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.

"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.

"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.

(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.

"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.

All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.

She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.

The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.

As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."

"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."

"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."

"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."

"Is it though?"

"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.

"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."

(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.

The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.

"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."

The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.

(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.

"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.

"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.

Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.

All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.

In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.

"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."

"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.

"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.

Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.

The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.

Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.

"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.

This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.

"Can we meet again?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?

"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.

The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.

When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"

The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.

Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.

She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.

"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.

And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.

.::the end::.

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing summer prompts, could you do graduation for newmann?

15. Graduation

from (the very old) summer prompts meme here

enjoy some awkward pre-canon jaeger academy ~ROOMMATES~!! also I am pretty sure this message/prompt is from at least a year ago (if not TWO) but it was only today that I really thought about what I wanted to write for it and wrote in like a FRENZY. content warning for alcohol (no like intoxication tho)

--------

It was hardly to be expected that Newton would be mature over the whole thing, but Hermann finds himself in a perpetual state of agitation the final weeks of their enrollment at the Jaeger Academy anyway. Newton was very young, Hermann knows, when he graduated from university (at least he was young the first time he graduated), and he can only assume the man took it rather hard that he didn’t get to have the proper send-off he thought he deserved—all-night parties with kegerators and beer pong, one-dollar shots at dive bars, trips to the seaside with classmates. One wasn’t likely to invite someone who’d barely breached his teens and still had braces to those sorts of things, after all. It’s the only reason Hermann can think of as to why Newton has spent the month—the whole month—popping open champagne at all hours and organizing spin-the-bottle in the base rec room and generally being a great bloody nuisance to everyone they have the misfortune of sharing their graduating class with. Over-compensation is what it is.

Having Newton as his bunkmate adds a special level of unbearableness to it all. At least—and Hermann does thank the stars above for this—tomorrow marks the end of a very miserable month. A very miserable two years.

“Everyone is going to be there,” Newton says. He’s wearing an oversized pair of neon sunglasses over his regular glasses, for some reason, those abhorrently dated kind with the slatted lenses, and dangling from his left hand are two bottles of pink champagne. A bag of plastic cups dangles in the other. “Everyone. Not even just the k-scientists—the techs, the ranger trainees, the—”

“That all sounds very thrilling,” Hermann says, hefting a stack of button-ups into a cardboard box he’s labeled Clothing – Gottlieb. “You’re aware, I assume, that we’re meant to be moving out tomorrow, and you’ve not touched anything on your side of the room?”

“Dude, I have sooo much time,” Newton says. Hermann realizes now the seal on one of the champagne bottles is broken—which might explain some of Newton’s suspiciously carefree mood. “Besides, I barely even have that much shit here.”

This is patently untrue. Newton’s clothing is overflowing from his dresser; manga and monster action figures and vinyl records clutter up every inch of its top surface; there’s laundry under his bed, on his bed, his guitar picks on Hermann’s bedside table, dirty mugs on his own, half-finished reports and articles scattered over his desk… “Fine,” Hermann says. “But I haven’t finished, at any rate, so I won’t be joining you.”

Newton flops down next to him on his bed; the stopper on the opened champagne bottle wobbles dangerously, and Hermann moves quickly to push it in more firmly so he doesn’t have to add a load of bed linens to his To-Do list. “I think you need to unwind, roomie,” Newton says, grinning up at him. Both pairs of his glasses have slipped off his nose and onto Hermann’s bedspread. “We’ll have all day tomorrow after the dumb ceremony to pack, and you haven’t taken a break in, like, seven years. You’ve earned one.”

Hermann doesn’t want to take a break, or at least not in the way Newton is suggesting. Hermann wants to finish packing up his half of the room, then his designated workspace in the large k-science laboratory, and then take a shower to wash himself of the experience of being Newton Geiszler’s roommate and labmate for two years too many. Noticing his reticence, Newton adds, pleadingly, “Come for one hour? Just to do two shots with me? One shot?” He blinks, half-blind without his glasses, as if trying to discern whether or not Hermann looks likely to give in. “No shots? C’mon, Hermann, you owe me.”

“Owe you?” Hermann says, frowning.

Newton nudges him with the stack of plastic cups. “Y’know—for the sake of your ol’ penpal,” he says.

The reference to their letter-writing days jars Hermann, and despite his best efforts not to show it to Newton, his hand trembles as he deposits an unopened pack of white socks into his laundry box. He thinks it may be the first time either of them have brought it up in the entirety of their time at the Academy. It’s certainly the first time either of them have admitted to even the slightest notion of a shared history since—a week into their first year here, at an ice-breaking event for their kaiju-science peers—Newton had rolled his eyes exaggeratedly when someone attempted to introduce him to Hermann and said “Yeah, Dr. Gottlieb and I go wayyyy back.” Hermann did not admit so at the time, but the use of the honorific in place of his first name had been unexpectedly wounding—ridiculous of him, considering he made a point of referring to Newton in precisely the same way. Perhaps that little slip of the tongue had been why they were assigned as roommates scarcely a week later. An assumed friendship.

Hermann picks up Newton’s thick eyeglasses and carefully slips them back onto Newton’s upside-down face. Newton wrinkles his nose when Hermann’s thumb accidentally brushes against its tip. “I just don’t like parties very much, Newton,” he says. He’s not sure when Dr. Geiszler became Newton to him, or rather, became Newton to him again.

“Then we can do something together here,” Newton says.

He sits up and pushes the sealed champagne bottle at Hermann’s chest. “This is for you, anyway. Graduation present. Bury the hatchet, you know—odds are pretty fucking high we’re never gonna see each other again, so there’s no use hating each other forever.”

In spite of his better judgement, Hermann takes the champagne bottle. One drink won’t hurt him. And anyway, it might be a little relaxing—so long as it’s one drink only, because he still has an entire two years’ worth of research to pack away in his laboratory desk. “Do you know where you’re being assigned already, then?” he says. He was under the impression they wouldn’t find out until after the ceremony tomorrow—bit last minute, he supposes, but it’s not as if they’re making their own travel arrangements, and nearly all of their colleagues have already brought their families along with them to the Academy base.

“Nah,” Newton says, “but I wrote down a lot on my request form.” He motions for Hermann to hand him back the bottle, and he begins unscrewing the wire holding down the cork. “Tokyo—Peru—" He moves the bottle away from the bed as he pops it open with a grunt of effort, and a small bit of foam spills to the cement floor. Hermann grits his teeth and tries not to worry about cleaning it up later. “—Los Angeles. I worked on one of my PhDs in California, you know, a few weeks one July. Sea sponges. I learned how to scuba dive, I loved it—I think that’s one of the first things I’m gonna do if—once this is all over.”

He looks strangely maudlin as Hermann pours himself some champagne into one of the plastic cups and suffers through a sip. Too sweet. Hermann’s never liked sweet wines—bloody awful hangovers the next day, if one isn’t careful.

“Their entire ecosystem would be destroyed now, I guess,” Newton says. “Kaiju blue poisoning.”

“Whose?” Hermann says.

“The sea sponges’,” Newton says.

Hermann sips more of the champagne so he won’t have to respond. “I requested Anchorage,” he offers. Among plenty others, but he knows Newton will get a kick out of ribbing him for the dreary Alaskan climate. It seems to work—Newton lights up at once with a loud snort.

“Of course you did, ya weirdo,” he says. “Have fun freezing your ass off.” He takes a sip right from his bottle, then holds it out to Hermann. “Well, Hermann—you were an annoying lab partner, an even more annoying roommate, but a decent penpal, and I’m—well, I’m not gonna miss you, but I guess I can’t say I hate everything about you. Good luck with the jaegers. Good luck to whoever gets stuck with you next, actually, yikes, don’t envy them! Here’s to never seeing each other again.”

Hermann rolls his eyes, but knocks his plastic cup against Newton’s bottle. “Best of luck to you, as well,” he says. “And here’s to—well, surviving.”

“That’s cheerful,” Newton says.

They drink to their toast. Down the hall, someone puts on loud music to a chorus of equally loud cheers. Hermann reckons that’ll be Newton’s party. “You ought to head over there,” he says, turning briefly to glance at their door, which Newton has left cracked open. “Otherwise, they’ll miss—”

Newton kisses him.

Hermann doesn’t necessarily kiss back, but he doesn’t push Newton away, either. He’s more bewildered than anything. He might’ve expected this sort of thing to happen years ago—years, and years ago, before that dreadful first meeting in some dingy little Berlin coffee shop, back when a new letter from Dr. Geiszler slipped through his mail slot could make his heart thud like nothing else—but they’ve hardly been anything to each other but colleagues these past two years. Not even quite colleagues—that implies a civility they don’t possess. Professional academic rivals. He was under the impression that the man hated him, that the data when they underwent standard tests for drift compatibility was merely a fluke.

His empty cup falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. Newton slides a hand up Hermann’s jaw and keeps kissing him; he makes a small, needy noise into Hermann’s mouth.

“Newton,” Hermann finally mumbles. “What are you doing?”

Newton pulls back. A brilliant red flush is creeping steadily across his face, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before anything comes out. “Oh, shit,” he says. “I didn’t mean—”

He stumbles to his feet. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry, I like—”

“Newton?” Hermann repeats. He feels about as dazed as Newton looks; he’s not quite sure what he’s meant to say. His lips are tingling from the kiss. “I—?”

“I’m gonna go to the party,” Newton stammers. “Sorry, dude, I—misread signals? I guess? Um—” He steps on Hermann’s forgotten cup and skids slightly, catching and righting himself on one of Hermann’s bed posts. The movement knocks Hermann’s cane (hooked there) to the floor, and Newton must bend down twice before he succeeds in picking it up. “Just—um—okay, bye.”

Hermann stares at the door for a long time after Newton leaves. Tomorrow marks the end of their two years cohabitating and working together—as Newton said, odds are high their paths will never cross again. Hermann had been counting down the days to their graduation in a little calendar he keeps pinned neatly to his wall, daydreaming endlessly of the first thing he would do once he was free from the suffocating cloud of Newton Geiszler’s presence—daydreaming of the like-minded non-Geiszlerian colleagues he would meet at his Shatterdome assignment, of a neat and orderly laboratory devoid of kaiju residue over every communal surface, of his own living quarters. He should be excited. He should be ecstatic.

Hermann touches his mouth and feels nothing but strange sort of hollowness in his chest—a black hole enveloping all else.

---

He doesn’t see Newton until their graduation ceremony the next day, an affair made all the more awkward by the seating chart’s alphabetical arrangement ensuring Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb will be knocking elbows for the full two hours. Newton is late by nearly twenty minutes, and rushes in with badly unkempt hair and a backwards tie: Hermann has a feeling he’d been lurking outside their quarters and waiting for Hermann to leave before he dared dart in to get himself ready. He wonders where Newton spent the night. He wonders why he even cares. Likely passed out on the rec room floor after the party, judging from the confetti stuck to his left cheek—or perhaps he’d finally made a move on the fellow kaiju-biologist Hermann recalls him extolling the physicality of on more than one occasion, and spent the night with him—or perhaps he did neither, and merely wandered the base for hours, sleep evading him as it’d so entirely evaded Hermann. They don’t acknowledge each other for the whole of the ceremony.

Hermann is summoned to the office of the jaeger science program head (a severe woman with short hair) later that evening, shortly after he finishes taping up his very last box of papers in the vacant laboratory. He’s handed a small manila folder containing the details of his Shatterdome assignment: Hong Kong, as it turns out. One of his requests. “Since you and Dr. Newton Geiszler have displayed a strong work ethic when partnered together,” the woman begins, “as well as a very high level of drift compatibility—”

Hermann’s eyes snap up from his folder to her face.

“—we’ll be assigning him to Hong Kong’s kaiju science division along with you, under the assumption that together you will only continue to produce positive results.”

“Pardon?” Hermann says, weakly.

Newton has finished boxing up a majority of his belongings when Hermann drags himself through the door to their quarters an hour later. He glances at Hermann briefly, embarrassedly, and says, in a small voice, “Hey, Hermann.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

He walks over and sits down heavily atop the pile of sheets on his stripped bed. Something pokes at his thigh, and he sets aside his cane to fumble through the sheet bundle to discover what: Newton’s forgotten neon shuttered shades. The sight of them sends his stomach twisting up in knots. “Oh, hey,” Newton says, as he wraps a Godzilla action figure with bubble wrap. He nods at the manila envelope clenched between Hermann’s fingers. “Where are they shipping you off to? I’m going to Hong Kong—should be cool. I’ve never been before.” He places the little Godzilla in a carboard box. Newt - Junk! the side says in purple Sharpie. “My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon—you’re right, I definitely should’ve started packing earlier, I have no idea how I’m gonna get this all done by then.”

Hermann stares at Newton in poorly-concealed amazement as he continues to ramble on about how to pack up his instruments and whether or not they’ll let him bring his first-ever kaiju sample with him (he’s attached to it, even though he knows it’s technically the academy’s property, but maybe he can find a way to smuggle it out in his checked bags or something). Does he not know? Did they not tell him? How could they let this fall on Hermann? “Newton,” he says, slowly. “I’ve been assigned to Hong Kong, too.”

Newton freezes. “No fucking way,” he says.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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celosiaa · 4 years

Note

Yo Connor! I made a post a while back about this but imagine s1 archives gang: Sasha and Tim wanna play hooky to go drinking so they pretend to be sick to get sent home early. But their work gets piled onto poor poor Martin whos starting to come down with something. Cut to Tim and Sasha coming back to work to find a super sick and overworked Martin (my post has diff situations that they could come back to but basically it’s all “Martin is completely miserable”)

~ ineedmysickfix

Hello friend!!!!! Apologies for the delay!! I hope you’ll like this all the same :)

CW nausea

“Oh, Sasha—you’re gonna hate me,” Tim drawls dramatically, draping an arm around her shoulders, causing them both to stagger. “You’re absolutely going to hate me.”

“Don’t tell me—ha! Tim—”

Sasha is broken off by a sudden, if sloppy, kiss to her cheek, the momentum of it nearly taking them both to the ground as they stumble on slightly-intoxicated legs. Well—perhaps more than slightly, after all. It is later, much later than they had intended to be out, and dark has fully settled over the still-bustling London landscape as they attempt to make their way back to the Tube station from the pub.

Where they had been playing hooky. Gloriously.

It is a bit pitiful, how gullible their mess of a friend currently playing at being their boss could be. Shamefully, upon reflection, Sasha recalls Jon’s worried response that afternoon to the torrent of falsified coughs and sneezes he had heard from his office, before insisting that the two of them go home to rest. And to “not infect anyone else,” of course—tacked on in some feeble attempt not to care.

And go home, they had—if you can call a pub a home, that is. While it was not exactly buzzing with customers at the mid-afternoon, it had been a nice place to camp out for the day and enjoy each other’s company. Though they had lamented not letting Martin in on the plan—even if it was nice to have a evening just for themselves, something hadn’t felt right about leaving him behind. Not with the ever-growing tower of files on his desk, building up over the last week in a bit of an alarming fashion.

Sending out a quick thought for him as they walk, Sasha turns her attention back to Tim, linking her arm with his with a poorly-hidden smile.

“What have you done this time, Stoker? What else could there possibly be to make me want to kill you even more?”

“Even more? After I serenaded you at karaoke?”

“Especially after you serenaded me at karaoke,” she replies, pulling him just a little bit closer. “Bold move, especially knowing I’ve got a knife on me.”

“Yeah, a pocket knife,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Which we might have to use to break back into the Institute, by the way.”

“Tim, you didn’t!”

Groaning in dismay, Sasha stops their pace abruptly, searching his face for any sign of a joke—tragically, finding none.

“Tim. Hey, Tim.”

She grabs both sides of his face, pulling his forehead to rest against her own.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t forget your keys again.”

A nervous swallow, a flick away of his eyes—before a poorly-hidden smile laces his tone.

“I did not…do this thing.”

“TIM!”

“Alright, alright!! I may have!” he laughs as she drops her hands from his face, in favor of using them to push back against his chest. “But don’t worry! There’s no way even Jon is still there. Pretty sure he was heading home to rest after Salat al-Jumu’ah—said he hurt his knee, and he has PT in the morning.”

“Jon was going home?” Sasha asks in disbelief, her face showcasing the wild array of thoughts flitting through her mind. “First of all—concerning. Second of all—do you mean to tell me that we left poor Martin there all on his own?”

“He’s fine, Sasha,” Tim assures, throwing an arm around her to keep them walking. “Martin’s an adult, he knows he can leave any time he damn well pleases. Especially since Jon isn’t there.”

“Well, yeah, but—I dunno, he just seemed…off this week,” she replies worriedly, twisting a finger around her long locks.”

“He’s fine. We’ll make it up to him on Monday, or something.”

“Right,” Sasha sighs, leaning a bit further into his warmth. “You’re right, we can—we can get him some of that good tea that he likes, the expensive kind.”

“Alright, rich kid.”

“Shut it.”

With another peck to the cheek, both silly and giddy, they continue on their way back to the Institute—neither too displeased at having the other so close.

—

Work.

Just keep working.

Just focus.

Cold, Martin feels the cold of the archives seeping deeper into his bones with every moment that passes. Or is it heat? Too hot, suffocating, can barely catch a comfortable breath before the coughing starts up again, pounding against his skull and leaving him exhausted. Surely it hadn’t been this bad this morning—his therapist’s voice rings out in his mind, telling him it’s alright to go home, that he ought not have come in anyway—but he does not listen. Cannot listen, not with Jon out and in pain, and Tim and Sasha both out sick.

No—this was his job. Just has to push through, pick up the slack, keep going.

Someone has to.

For as much as Martin tries to tell himself that he’s not ill, that he never gets ill, he knows it’s all a lie. Sleep has come in sparse patches for him these past few weeks—and that has left him vulnerable to what he is now fairly certain is a nasty case of flu. It’s just been so much recently, with his mum intermittently calling him from the care home in Devon, and not answering the phone when he returns her calls. Though he would never want to think so poorly of his own mother—ungrateful, cruel, sad excuse for a son—he cannot help but have the thought that she’s doing this on purpose, calling him when she knows he’s busy—

Stop it.

Selfish.

Cruel.

Focus.

The stacks of files in the corners of his vision, piled so high he can barely see his surroundings beyond his desk, very nearly manage to draw out the tears Martin has so desperately been trying to hold back over the past—however long it’s been, now. Overwhelmed, he’s overwhelmed and wants nothing more than just to sleep. But Jon. Jon needs this done, Tim and Sasha need to rest—none of them need to have a miserable next week if he can just. Focus. Now.

Sniffing back against the congestion sitting heavy in his sinuses, Martin steels himself as well as he can, and drags his attention back to the piles and piles of nightmares before him.

—

As soon as they found the door to the archives unlocked, Sasha knew something was wrong.

Jon was so strangely protective of the place; always kept such a careful watch on it that it was unfathomable for him to not make certain that everything was locked, and the lights turned out at the end of each day. Surely, even if Martin had been the last one there, surely Jon would have called several times to ensure he would do the same—possibly even dragging himself back over the the dusty old basement, just to make sure.

And yet—here they are. Standing before the unlocked door to the archives.

“Can’t be good,” says Tim, running a hand anxiously down his beard.

“Not at all,” Sasha replies at once, voice low as she carefully pushes the door open.

The office beyond is almost entirely darkened, corners obscured by shadows and cobwebs and god knows what else down here. Only the light from a single lamp illuminates a desk—messy, piled high with stacks of files and reference volumes, some spilled over and scattered onto the floor. Martin’s desk. And Martin, leaning heavily against it.

Though she cannot see his face where it has been propped heavily between both of his hands, Sasha immediately takes note of of the blanket he’s wrapped himself tightly with, the bin by his feet overflowing with tissues, the row of mugs set on the floor to make room for more files. The way one has been tipped over, creating a dark spot on the carpet where it had spilled its contents, but Martin has not seemed to notice. A rarity—and a concerning one at that, for certain.

Exchanging a quick glance with Tim, who looks very much as worried as she feels, Sasha steps a bit forward, clearing her throat before calling gently to him.

“Martin? You alright, love?”

The impact is immediate—clearly, he had not heard them come in, nor seen their shadows stretching across the light of his lamp. For he jumps bodily in his seat, tipping it back with such a heavy creak that Sasha is certain it will send him to the floor completely. A gasp, loud and deep, as his wild, fever-glassed eyes meet theirs—before it turns into a fit of harsh, painful hacks that he buries hastily in what appears to be his last remaining tissue.

“Aw, Marto,” Tim says sympathetically as he strides over to him, rubbing a hand over his back as the coughing continues, Sasha following suit to grab a box of tissues from her own desk, and set it in front of him.

“Sorry, m’sorry,” he croaks, voice weathered and broken in the wake of his fit.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, mate,” Tim says softly, slipping a hand over Martin’s forehead—evidently not liking the heat he finds there, if his grimace is anything to go by. “How long have you been ill? You seemed alright this morning.”

“M’fine, Tim,” he mutters back, sniffing heavily and reaching for the new box of tissues. “Thanks, Sash—”

A sudden look of horror washes over his face as he meets her eyes, letting out a shallow gasp and covering his mouth with one hand.

“Wait, you’re—you’re ill, you’re both ill, you need these—”

“We’re not ill, Martin,” Sasha soothes at once, cursing both herself and Tim for going through with what was clearly a terrible idea.

“You’re not?”

“We wanted to skive off work,” Tim echoes, pulling Martin’s blanket back up from where it had slipped off his shaking shoulders. “We…we went out to the pub instead.”

“Oh,” is the only soft response that comes from him, as he drops his eyes back to the statement in front of him—and the guilt welling up inside Sasha is enough to break her heart.

“We would never have done that if we had known you were actually ill,” she clarifies rapidly. “We should have…we should have said. Shouldn’t have done that at all, really.”

“Yeah. Sash is right, we’re really sorry, Martin,” says Tim, wincing as the terrible coughing starts up once again, doubling him forward—and this time, he does not straighten back up.

“Oh,” he says again, miserably, squeezing his eyes shut against the apparent dizziness—enough to send Tim reaching for the empty bin from beneath his own desk, just in case.

“You alright?” asks Sasha, setting a bracing hand against his hunched shoulders.

It takes a few moments for him to reply this time, as he breathes as deeply as possible for a bit—still altogether too shallow, in Sasha’s opinion. She can hear the hitching at the back of his throat, knows that he’s trying so hard to keep from coughing again, whether for their sake or to avoid worsening the nausea, she can’t be sure.

“M’alright. Sorry,” he apologizes again, shivering hard as he does, pulling the blanket just a bit tighter around himself and sniffling. “Shouldn’t be here, you’ll probably catch it.”

“You shouldn’t be here, love,” Sasha counters, catching Tim’s gaze and jerking her head toward the breakroom—and he heads in that direction at once. “We’re going to get some water and medicine into you, and then you’re going straight home.”

“Can’t,” he whispers in return, shaking his head against the fresh tears that have sprung into his eyes, breaking Sasha’s heart to bits again. “There’s so much—so much to do, and Jon—Jon’s not well, and you—well, I suppose you’re—you’re not, heh—”

“Martin,” she says, bending crouching down to the level of his eyeline. “You do not need to be here. You do not need to do all this work yourself—if it makes you feel better, Tim and I can get some of this done over the weekend. But I highly doubt even Jon would ask you to do all of this today.”

“He—he didn’t.”

And now here come the tears, spilling hot over his cheeks, unable to be held back in with the stress the fever wracks through his body.

“I’ve—I’ve gotten so behind, this is almost a week’s worth of work, I’ve just been—I’ve not been focused, I can’t—god, I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright, Martin,” Sasha soothes, handing him another tissue which he uses to swipe at his streaming eyes and nose. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”

Squeezing his eyes shut again, tears leaking from beneath his lashes, Martin nods—burying his face in his hands, before Sasha wraps her arms around him.

“It’s alright, darling. Just hush, I’ve got you.”

It is to this sight that Tim arrives back from the break room, armed with medicine and a thermometer and a glass of water. Upon seeing them, his face falls in sorrow—reluctant to interrupt the stillness of the moment—before the whistling of the electric kettle from the breakroom causes Martin to pick up his head, turning his head toward the noise only to find Tim frozen in the doorway.

“Oh—thank you, that’s—” he pauses for a moment to cough behind closed lips, swiping at his eyes as he does so. “That’s really kind, I’m—I’m alright. I’m sure it’s just the flu, or something.”

“Don’t really think there’s such a thing as ‘just’ the flu, Marto,” Tim says, rolling his eyes with a smile—which, to Sasha’s immense relief, Martin returns, if still a bit watery.

“Yeah, Martin—let’s get you some meds, and get you home,” Sasha insists. “I’ll go fetch you some tea as well. Can’t send you home without something warm in your stomach.”

“I—thank you, really,” he beams, accepting the pills from Tim with his own, rather more shaky hands. “You’re—that’s really kind.”

“It’s nothing at all, Martin,” she replies at once, relieved to see him swallow the pills readily. “Let’s get you warm, and get you home.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma sickfic #cw nausea #my writing

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Everybody Knows You're High, 4/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

Summary: It’s not just the weed this time, Raja’s in love, and Manila’s about to make a confession.

A/n: this is one long-ass chapter of feelings and lesbian porn lmao. this is specifically for the anon from a few weeks ago who requested manila smut, here ya go :P also thank u to V&albatross for your encouragement and for letting me play in your world lol <3

tw: weed, mild second-hand embarrassment, smut: 80% sexy, 20% disgusting, 100% dumb ;)

Manila stood in her steamy bathroom leaning against the edge of the sink, with a towel wrapped around her body, and stared at herself in the mirror.

Last night had been… a lot.

She’d just gotten out of the shower, and there were dark circles under her eyes from the late night, the stress and the hangover. The hangover wasn’t as bad as Manila thought she deserved. Chugging straight vodka from the bottle in a state of emotional turmoil had been a terrible idea.

However, a part of herself that she’d been suppressing for too long was raising its head, this time with hope. Parsing out what Raja had been trying to say last night had practically required a cryptographer, but Manila was like eighty-seven percent sure that Raja had said she liked her, and was interested in… maybe dating. Or something. It all got a little blurry after she’d kissed Raven.

Manila stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror and left the bathroom, walking quickly down the hall in her towel to her room to get dressed. She examined one of her nicer shirts, and that corduroy mini-skirt she liked, and then decided not to get her hopes up. She pulled on a pair of dark blue sweatpants with the college’s name written across the butt. But her hand lingered over her one of her nice bras, an elegant black one with red lining, and after a brief but eventful internal wrestling match, she put it on. And covered it with a T-shirt and a hoodie.

After having breakfast, drying her hair, scrolling through her phone, cleaning the bathroom, killing time and receiving no texts from Raja, but not sending any either, Manila put her hands on her hips and sighed.

Manila had two choices. She could go across the street and actually talk to Raja about her feelings, or she could drop out of college, move to Canada, change her identity, burn her fingerprints off with acid and start again as an entirely new person.

Despite the strong temptation of option two, Manila chose option one and rushed out the door before she could psych herself out. She hurried up to to the familiar house across the street and a few doors down. Manila took a nervous breath as she knocked on Raja’s front door, immediately regretting that she hadn’t texted or something before just showing up. Maybe Raja wasn’t awake yet, or maybe she didn’t want to see her after she’d been so messy last night-

The door opened and Raja stood there. Her long black hair was wet and brushed straight like she’d just showered, and her loose, green linen shirt was damp where the ends sat on her shoulders. She looked suspiciously fresh and clean for the day after a party, but then Manila remembered that Raja had been sober the entire time.

“Hey,” said Raja, with a goofy, knowing smile.

Manila’s palms began to sweat, and her heart leapt out of her chest and prostrated itself on the floor.

“Uh- hi,” said Manila.

Raja stepped aside and Manila walked in to the living room, slipping off her shoes and glancing at the familiar couch. An empty bag of chips and a couple loose video game controllers sat abandoned on it. Usually she’d go right in and sit down, but that didn’t quite feel right today. Carmen’s voice drifted over from the kitchen, one half of a conversation she was having over the phone.

“We could talk in my room?” suggested Raja, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Her deep brown eyes were without expectation.

“Sure,” said Manila decisively, and walked quickly to the stairs and up to Raja’s bedroom, the first door on the left.

Raja’s room always surprised Manila. The first time she’d seen it she’d expected a total stoner disaster zone, but instead it was surprisingly neat. There was a beautiful piece of blue and gold paisley fabric tacked up on the wall, some clothes piled up on the back of the chair, and several mugs on the nightstand. Books, her laptop and some weed paraphernalia were scattered on the desk, but the floor was clean and the bed was pretty much always made.

Manila sat down on the edge of the bed, and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Raja sat down next to her, close but not touching.

“So…” began Manila, drawing out the word and wondering what exactly she was going to say. She didn’t want to be the first to admit her feelings. Part of her still felt afraid, instinctively evasive when talking about how she felt. “You like me, apparently.”

“Yeah,” laughed Raja, amused, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder, “Yeah, I said that.”

“Mm,” acknowledged Manila, already a little flustered by how Raja had just openly admitted it, like it was that easy. Everything was so easy for her. “Are you mad at me for kissing Raven?”

“For like a minute last night, but uh, it seemed more like you were mad at me, actually.”

“Yeah, I was kind of upset-” said Manila, and hesitated. Talking openly like this was outside of her comfort zone and she felt too warm and too awkward and… she would rather all of this be a big joke, to laugh it off again and hide how she really felt behind the humour.

“I’m sorry I decided to make that joke about you missing your opportunity when I was trying to be all serious or whatever,” said Raja quickly, all in one breath, “That was really stupid. I really did mean everything I said, except for that part.”

Manila nodded, the hurt rolling back over her for a moment. The feeling of rejection had been awful. But maybe that was how Raja had felt the first couple of times Manila had rejected and mocked her for expressing interest.

“It’s okay,” said Manila, cracking a smile, “You are incredibly stupid after all.��

“But I’m still getting better grades than you,” replied Raja, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

Manila looked at her hands. Raja was next to her, but she felt simultaneously closer and farther than she’d ever been. They were steering out of familiar territory towards something Manila both hopelessly longed for and horribly feared.

“I didn’t do anything with Yara, by the way,” confessed Manila, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“What, really?” replied Raja, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah I lied about that, she and Alexis love each other so much it’s gross,” said Manila, rolling her eyes. “I thought you’d been acting differently around me, so I… said that.”

“They do seem to love each other a lot,” confirmed Raja, nodding, a sneaky grin growing on her mouth, “You wanted to see if I got jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe in jealousy,” sniffed Raja imperiously, “Love should be free.”

“You’re such a fucking hippie,” said Manila, shaking her head, amused, “And you were jealous, you were stomping around like a six-year-old having a temper tantrum.”

“Fine, maybe a little,” acquiesced Raja, with a laugh. “You were really winding me up, though!”

Manila laughed as well, following the shift of energy between them into lighter territory. She twisted her fingers in the sheets on Raja’s bed for a moment, and sat up straighter, looking at Raja carefully. Raja’s green linen shirt draped elegantly over her tall, angular frame and it suited her nicely, despite the damp shoulders from her hair. A curl of interest announced itself in Manila’s core.

“So, uh,” said Manila, regretting her decision to wear sweats and wishing she’d at least tried to look nice. Raja’s expression was open, but her shoulders were a little stiff, almost nervous. Manila wanted to ease the tension, she wanted Raja to be comfortable around her again, and get rid of this stupid distance she’d built up between them.

Manila decided she was going to be brave, and asked, “Do you still wanna make out?”

Raja blinked in shock and then grinned and gave a happy little shrug, and said, “Yeah, totally.”

Before Manila could stop herself, before she could let herself think, she leaned in. Raja did the same, and shifted closer to her on the bed, pressing their legs together. Manila hesitated for a moment, the tension between them burning hot, more intense and awful than it had ever been, before Raja brushed her lips over Manila’s and they captured one another in a soft kiss. A high-voltage thrill shot down Manila’s spine, turning to instant, uncontrollable heat between her legs.

Raja’s confidence was contagious, and Manila kissed her back, tentatively parting her lips and tasting Raja with her tongue. Raja touched Manila’s waist, her other hand going to the back of her neck and tangling up in her hair. Manila’s body was taking over completely, the thrill drowning out her every doubt.

Raja was very pleased with how the morning had progressed so far, as Manila broke their kiss to push her down on the bed, a look of pure, unadulterated desire in her eyes.

“Oh, hello,” purred Raja as Manila straddled her, and Raja shifted a little so that she was at a better angle, her head propped up on her pillow. Manila lifted her hoodie up over her head, and the plain T-shirt undershirt underneath hiked up so that Raja caught a glimpse of her toned stomach before Manila threw the hoodie to the floor. Raja’s breath quickened, and she fumbled at the buttons of her shirt. She was so happy that this was finally happening, that Manila wasn’t angry with her and seemed quite interested in being more than just friends. There were so many fun directions this could go-

“Hi,” breathed Manila, leaning forward and quashing Raja’s efforts to get her shirt unbuttoned. Manila kissed her again, this time taking charge in a way that Raja found very sexy indeed. Raja caressed her waist through the thin fabric of her shirt. Manila stroked Raja’s still-damp hair, her hands exploring Raja’s scalp as they made out thoroughly. The smell of Manila’s lavender conditioner filled Raja’s nose.

Manila ducked her head, going for Raja’s neck. Raja sighed, gasping when Manila introduced her teeth to her skin. Oh, this was excellent, this was lovely. Manila was so much more than Raja had expected, and pleasant excitement filled her mind. Raja’s hands drifted from Manila’s waist down her back to grip her beautiful, muscular, college-logo-emblazoned ass.

Fuck yes.

Manila laughed quietly into her neck, pausing for a breath, and rolled her hips against Raja. Raja pushed her thigh up a little to give Manila something to grind on, if she wanted to. Even the hint that Manila was truly letting her guard down and trusting Raja like this was very exciting-

Manila breathed in sharply, her face still pressed into Raja’s neck, and rolled her hips again, and Raja felt Manila’s warm body through her thick cotton sweatpants. Raja took her opportunity and lifted her head slightly, kissing Manila’s neck in return, still gripping her ass and encouraging her to grind against her thigh.

“Raja-” breathed Manila as Raja kissed what must be a sweet spot. Raja couldn’t wait to learn all her sweet spots.

Manila sat back, pulling Raja with her so they were both sitting up, Manila still straddling her lap.

“Can I…?” murmured Manila, touching the buttons on Raja’s shirt.

“Yeah, for sure.”

Manila fumbled to undo Raja’s shirt buttons and Raja kissed her neck again. Now that they were sitting up, Raja touched Manila’s lower back and guided her to keep grinding on her thigh, since they were in an excellent position for her to do so. Manila bit back a little moan, visibly distracted from her task and it sent a tingle throughout Raja’s entire body. Manila was getting so hot and bothered already, and they were still practically fully clothed.

In fact, Manila’s hips were moving quicker now, rocking against Raja’s thigh, but she finished with the buttons and pushed Raja’s shirt back down to her elbows, then blinked with surprise.

Raja wasn’t one to wear a bra unless it was absolutely required of her.

“You can touch me,” whispered Raja, kissing Manila’s ear.

Manila did, gently palming Raja’s small breasts, and continuing to roll her hips. Now Raja could really feel the heat between Manila’s legs and let out a surprised half-moan herself as Manila caught her nipple between her fingers. Manila’s expression was hazy with lust, as she bit her lip and rutted down even harder, and Raja was almost surprised that Manila was so turned on by this minimal amount of contact.

“Is it okay if I-” said Raja, and touched the front edge of Manila’s sweatpants.

Manila nodded semi-frantically, and Raja went for it, reaching past her waistband to feel how gloriously warm and wet she was, even through her underwear. Manila moaned aloud, and ground down against Raja’s fingers and Raja, absolutely thrilled, slid her fingers inside her underwear.

Manila inhaled sharply at the skin-to-skin contact, rolling her hips hard and fast and clutching Raja to her. Raja decided to go for more, gently slipping two fingers past her folds and up into her soaking wet pussy-

“Oh my god, fuck-” managed Manila.

Manila’s back arched and her hip thrusts became erratic, quick, and she let out another barely suppressed moan, burying her face in Raja’s neck, panting hot breath against her skin, clenching around Raja’s fingers with a sudden gasp-

Suddenly Manila stopped moving, she pushed herself back. She flopped backwards off of Raja’s lap onto her ass and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide, her expression utterly surprised and embarrassed.

Raja realized what had happened.

“You are so into me,” stated Raja, unable to resist the urge to tease Manila for it, wiping her fingers unceremoniously on her sheets and laughing. “You came from just that? Really?”

“Don’t,” whined Manila, covering her face with both hands and curling up into a ball.

“We’ve barely been going for five minutes-”

“It’s just been a while for me,” complained Manila, her voice muffled behind her hands, “I’m sorry…”

Raja crawled over to her, taking her hands away from her face and kissing her.

“No need to apologize, you’ve got more where that came from, right?” asked Raja with a grin. The dull ache of Raja’s own arousal was still present between her legs.

“Yeah…”

“Great, hopefully this time I’ll get to actually take your clothes off.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” replied Manila dryly, sitting up. She looked slightly less embarrassed, pushing a few stray curls back out of her face.

Raja kissed Manila’s face again, unable to stop herself from smiling, smug. It seemed like Manila did actually like her, or was at least very, very attracted to her. Raja appreciated the vindication, and imagined the afternoon ahead. It looked like they’d be spending it here, making out and having sex, and taking a few breaks for food and weed, and that seemed most excellent.

“What do you want to do?” asked Manila. She reached out and hesitated, before running her fingers across Raja’s collarbone and then down her arm. Raja vaguely remembered her shirt, which was mostly off, open with the sleeves caught around her elbows. She took it off entirely. Raja was comfortable with her body and didn’t mind being naked, especially when it was making Manila so distracted.

“I want to…” began Raja, before shrugging, “Actually, I just want to roll a joint and share it with you, if you’re into that, and then eat you out for like forty-five minutes.”

Manila laughed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah, let’s get a little high, it won’t hurt.”

“It might even help you last longer…” teased Raja gently, not that she really cared. If Manila got off so quickly and easily, then Raja would gladly spend the entire day making her come over and over and over-

“Stop!” protested Manila, but she couldn’t help her smile.

Manila was so embarrassed that she’d pretty much finished immediately from the barest of contact like a desperate, touch-deprived lunatic, but luckily the feeling was fading. Raja didn’t seem to mind, despite her gentle teasing.

Manila had surprised herself more than anything. She was usually a bit… well, stiff maybe wasn’t the right word, but during hookups or sexual encounters she wanted to make sure she came off as sexy and fun, and that she did everything right. This was always particularly strong in her mind when she was with guys. But what was right was a vague and every-changing notion, a bit of a performance, kind of acting like girls did in porn except more chill, and trying to read what the other person liked and expected of her. It was difficult to relax. Certain walls always remained up.

But not today.

Today, Manila had completely melted the second her lips had touched Raja’s. Her body had taken over, unmitigated. Tasting Raja’s neck, grinding on her thigh, touching her skin and feeling her hard nipples, and Raja slipping her knowing fingers inside of her had made Manila feel so alive-

Maybe this was what it was supposed to feel like.

They had the entire afternoon ahead of them, so Manila lounged on Raja’s bed in her sweatpants while Raja got out a jar of weed and a grinder, confident and relaxed and wonderfully topless.

“Ugh, I left my rolling papers in the living room again,” sighed Raja, leaning over to give Manila a lingering kiss that sent a thrill right down her spine again, “I’ll be back.”

With that Raja got up and strolled across the room, opening her door-

“Don’t you need a shirt?” asked Manila.

“Nope.”

Manila laughed as Raja left and padded down the stairs. Her voice drifted up from the living room.

“Hey Delta.”

“Hey. So it’s a tits out kind of day?”

“Yeah, have you seen my rolling papers?”

“Over there.”

“Thanks! Did you hook up with that guy last night?”

“Yeah, and he was surprisingly good in bed-”

Manila tuned out the conversation, remembering her nice bra and wondering if she should just take her clothes off now and maybe fix her hair and find some way to recline on the bed so she’d look hot when Raja came back up-

But then Manila realized Raja didn’t care about that, and that really, she didn’t either. Manila lay back down on her side, breathing in the smell of Raja’s pillow. It smelled just like her hair, and honestly, Manila would be totally happy just to exist right here in this moment and never leave it. The voice in the back of her head chimed in, you know you still haven’t told her how you really feel-

“-yeah, she’s up in my room, I think we’re figuring it out.”

“Oh thank god! You’ve been stressing about that for ages. So that’s why you don’t have a shirt on…”

“Yeah, we might get kinda loud, so… sorry in advance.”

There was a smug evil to Raja’s voice, and Manila couldn’t help but feel smug as well. She imagined what exactly she could do to make Raja get loud…

“I was planning to go to the library anyway, bitch, I’ll send the bat signal to Carmen.”

Manila smirked at Delta’s sarcasm.

“Love you too!” sang Raja in response, and then Manila heard Raja’s footsteps on the stairs again. Her heart beat faster in anticipation. She should probably tell Raja about her stupid feelings. Raja had confessed her own, and while it was all still a bit vague, things were changing between them. Hopefully for the better.

Raja reentered the room, and flopped down on the bed next to Manila. Manila sat up and watched as Raja put a few weed buds into her little grinder and ground them up. Then she balanced a rolling paper in her palm, and carefully tipped the weed into it. Raja’s tongue darted out and wet the paper before rolling it into a cylinder, and something stirred in Manila’s core while she watched. Raja still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Manila couldn’t help her eyes lingering. Of course this too was easy for Raja, she didn’t seem self-conscious about her body at all. Manila was always a bit in awe of Raja’s effortless confidence.

The joint was ready before Manila knew it, because when it came to weed Raja was nothing if not efficient. The sun outside broke through the clouds and streamed in through the thin curtains on Raja’s window, hitting the side of her face, and she was so beautiful that Manila’s breath hitched with disbelief. Raja brought the fresh joint to her mouth, grabbed a lighter from her bedside table and lit up, breathing in deeply with a contented sigh.

Raja passed Manila the joint with a suggestive smile, and Manila took it, putting the filter between her lips and drawing in a deep breath, the gentle smoke seeping deep into her lungs.

“I-” said Manila, passing back the joint and coughing, “I should probably tell you something.”

“Mmm, what?” replied Raja, taking another hit and leaning in, nuzzling Manila’s neck.

“Uh,” continued Manila, now very distracted by the feeling of Raja’s luxurious lips on her warm skin, the slightly smoky air and the joint that was now in her hands again. Did she even want to tell Raja she’d been idiotically in love with her for like two years? Would it ruin everything?

Manila took another pull and blew the smoke out into the air, while Raja kissed her neck and snuck her hand into her shirt, tracing her waist with delicate fingertips.

“I’ve actually,” whispered Manila, noticing with interest the way Raja had pressed herself into her side, her nipples getting pointy again, “I’ve actually been into you for a while.”

“Really?” purred Raja, without stopping what she was doing. It felt really good. Manila passed her the joint and Raja took it, turning away from her neck only momentarily to inhale the sweet smoke.

“Yeah,” said Manila quietly, desperately wanting to make it all a joke, somehow, worried her confession would completely freak Raja out. But maybe it wouldn’t. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you like since we met.”

Raja pulled back from Manila’s neck. But instead of laughing at her, or looking awkward and pushing her away, Raja’s expression was open and curious.

“No way,” said Raja, cocking her head to the side, “Even that time I got those fireworks from my dealer, and we accidentally lit that tree on fire?”

“Yeah?” replied Manila, confused. “I mean, Delta was the only one with the wherewithal to call 911, but we survived.”

“Even that time I spilled coffee all over your good white shirt?”

“Yes,” said Manila, flatly, recalling the incident. The shirt had never recovered. And the burn had hurt.

“Okay, but what about when I was too high in the grocery store a few weeks ago-“

“All of the times, Raja!” exclaimed Manila impatiently, practically squirming with the discomfort of having confessed her feelings, “Every dumb thing you did, I still liked you. So I, I don’t know, maybe that makes me the stupid one.”

“Nah, you’re like the smartest person I know, other than me,” chuckled Raja affectionately, taking another drag on the joint and exhaling the smoke slowly, so that it drifted up around her face, ethereal, “I’m learning so many cool new things about you today.”

“Well,” sputtered Manila, defensive and insecure, “I don’t know if it’s cool-“

“It totally is,” continued Raja, utterly confident, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Because, you know,” shrugged Manila, taking the offered joint and hoping it would calm her down a little, “You obviously prefer casual hookups or whatever, and I couldn’t really stand being just that to you- I just didn’t want to have to say it was totally fine and chill if you didn’t like me back-” Manila paused with horrendous panic, “I mean, you do feel the same way, right?”

“Yeah, I-” said Raja, her face suddenly shifting into to an expression that normally appeared when she was trying really hard to beat Manila at Super Smash Bros, “Wait, so you thought I’d think you were too intense or something?”

Manila passed her the joint and looked away, already knowing that she was too intense, that her feelings were nothing other than a humiliating mess and always would be. Well, she thought wistfully, it had been nice while it lasted…

“Manila,” sighed Raja, and Manila looked back at her and Raja was smiling, and blowing smoke into her face, “I can’t predict like the entire future, you know with the Mars colonies and stuff, but I really like you. Maybe you like me a little more than I realized, but that’s good because I thought you weren’t into me at all. So like, it’s cool. Let’s just see where it goes?”

Manila nodded, as her heart beat faster and she felt herself blush. She supposed she’d just have to trust Raja, and herself.

“But you really fucked up with Raven when you two were dating,” stated Manila, unable to stop her doubts from surfacing.

“Well… ” said Raja, hesitating, and then she sighed, “Yeah, I did. The whole relationship thing was her idea and I went along with it because, well, I wanted things to be easy… but I should’ve found a better way to end it.” Raja paused, and took Manila’s hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing, “I feel super differently about you, and about this. We’re friends first, right, before anything else.”

“Okay, yeah,” murmured Manila, plucking the joint, which wasn’t much more than a tiny roach, from Raja’s fingers and inhaling deeply, burning it right down to the filter. It seemed like Raja was genuinely on the path to some kind of self-awareness.

Manila reached around Raja to stub the end of the joint out in the decorative glass ashtray, and then let the smoke out through her nose with a giggle. Raja laughed along, and Manila finally began to feel the relaxed buzz under her skin. Getting high was nice, no wonder Raja did it all the time… Manila leaned in and kissed her again. Raja kissed her back, her hands going immediately to her waist again, pushing up under her shirt to touch her skin. Manila stroked Raja’s hair, and delicately held the back of her neck. Raja was already topless, but Manila was getting very interested in taking Raja’s shorts off as well…

They just had to trust one another, figured Manila, and maybe everything would be turn out alright.

Raja was happy and relaxed now that she’d had some weed and they were making out again. Manila had seemed stressed when she’d admitted her years-long crush, and while Raja was certainly a little surprised, more than anything she was pleased that her instincts had been right. It was making the strange new feeling in her chest glow a little brighter. But maybe that was just the weed.

“I want to take your shirt off,” murmured Raja. She’d seen Manila out running in her sports bra enough times to be real curious about what was underneath…

“Yeah, go ahead,” said Manila, moving her hand from the back of Raja’s neck down to her chest, running her thumb over her nipple in a way that sent a jolt of interest directly between Raja’s legs. She tugged Manila’s shirt up, and Manila lifted her arms and was momentarily caught with her shirt under her chin and around her elbows and Raja laughed at her and eventually they got it off.

Damn. Manila looked good, cute and toned and was wearing a suspiciously nice bra…

“You knew this was going to happen today, didn’t you?” said Raja.

“I might have suspected something,” said Manila with a smirk, sitting back on her butt as she easily tugged her sweatpants off of her legs.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“It’s my tragic flaw.”

Now that Manila was just in her underwear, the animal part of Raja’s brain kicked in. In an instant, Raja wanted to kiss Manila’s entire body, fuck her thoroughly, cuddle all night, move in and have a baby together, raise a bunch of feral kids and dogs, run a full-scale weed grow-op out in the country somewhere and just chill in the glorious California sunset until the end of time. Hmm. Raja decided that odd little fantasy was definitely just the weed talking, and took off her shorts and throwing them over the side of the bed, revealing her plain blue cotton underwear.

Now, that they were both pleasantly stoned and significantly more naked, things were starting to get interesting. Raja scooted closer to Manila, and ran her hands up her legs, letting out a weird gremlin-like giggle.

“You so don’t get to accuse me of being the horny one anymore,” chuckled Manila, taking Raja’s face in her hands and kissing her.

Raja sat back and pulled Manila into her lap, taking her time to kiss her. They explored one another, gentle and stoned. Raja stroked her way up Manila’s smooth back, her fingertips extra sensitive, and felt the band of her bra, reaching to undo it.

“Wait, don’t,” said Manila, and Raja’s hands stilled. Was something wrong? But Manila hadn’t pulled back, in fact she was pressing little kisses on Raja’s face, and kissed the shell of her ear in a way that sent a shiver throughout Raja’s entire body.

Raja dropped her hands to Manila’s hips and had a brilliant idea.

“Turn around,” suggested Raja into Manila’s ear.

“Mm, why?” replied Manila, shifting to kiss Raja’s neck.

“Because it’ll be fun…"

Manila laughed at her reasoning, and turned around so that she was sitting in Raja’s lap with her back to her. Raja immediately hugged Manila close, pressing her naked chest into her back and taking the opportunity to nip at her neck, eliciting a little yelp.

Raja ran her hand up Manila’s stomach touch her chest through her bra. Manila ’s breath hitched in response, and Raja took that as a positive sign, and reached up to ease her bra-straps off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to take my bra off,” stated Manila and Raja stopped again, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Do you not like being touched there?” asked Raja, momentarily nervous that she’d overstepped an invisible boundary, as Manila twisted in her lap to make eye contact.

“No, I like it, but,” said Manila, and hesitated.

“But?” asked Raja, in what she hoped was a gentle way, planting a little kiss on Manila’s shoulder.

“I just don’t like people looking at my tits.”

“Why not?”

Manila hunched a little, looking uncomfortable, and said, “Uh, this girl in middle school used to tell me they were a weird shape and I’ve kind of never gotten over it.”

Raja glanced down at Manila’s chest. Her breasts were contained in what was a truly nice bra and Raja found nothing weird about her body whatsoever.

“Well, fuck that bitch, she can die,” said Raja, in full seriousness.

Manila burst into laughter, “What, you’re gonna murder some girl from my seventh-grade gym class?”

“Yeah, what’s her name?”

“Jenny.”

“She sounds basic, I’ll shove her into traffic.”

“That’s very sexy of you but I’m still not taking my bra off,” chuckled Manila, blinking slowly. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but her body was relaxed with trust again, leaning back into Raja. Raja wrapped one arm around her waist and squeezed her close. As badly as Raja wanted Manila to be fully naked, she respected her wishes.

“I went to alternative school on what was basically a gay hippie commune,” murmured Raja, gently kissing the spot behind Manila’s ear, and tracing her fingers down her stomach, “There wasn’t really bullying. We all made flower crowns, ate quinoa, studied beekeeping and Buddhist philosophy, it ruled.”

“No wonder you’re so weird…” sighed Manila, with a little gasp as Raja ghosted her fingers over the sensitive skin just above the edge of her black underwear.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” purred Raja, now running her fingers over the distinctly damp fabric between Manila’s legs and then kissing her neck again. Manila shuddered and let out a whine, the sudden note in her voice that reminded Raja of how easily turned on she was. “And so do most bees.”

Raja shifted a little so Manila was more comfortable in her lap, and Manila spread her legs and Raja stroked the inside of her thigh, moving slowly closer to her centre. Manila didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, and after a moment of confusion she rested them on Raja’s arm across her waist.

“You’re like really hot, you have nothing to be insecure about,” murmured Raja in her ear, resting her head on Manila’s shoulder and wondering how she felt about praise and dirty talk.

Manila whined and arched a bit, trying to press into Raja’s hand. Then she turned her head, catching Raja’s mouth with her own in a sudden, intense kiss. Raja kissed her in return, and Manila reached back, tracing the back of Raja’s head and stroking her hair with a loose, exploratory hand.

“You’re definitely the hot one,” chuckled Manila, “But I really need you to start touching me, like right now.”

“Ask nicely,” purred Raja.

“Hmm…” hummed Manila, drawing it out, and then, her voice breathy and demanding, whispered, “Please?”

Raja’s own breath caught hearing her beg, and she immediately slipped her fingers past the waistband of Manila’s underwear, finding her clit in no time and stroking her with slow circles. Knowing how very sensitive Manila was, Raja went about her task with utmost delicacy.

Manila’s hand grasped into a fist in Raja’s hair on the back of her head and she arched her back and moaned aloud. It seemed she was lot more expressive after the weed and the conversation about their feelings. It sent electricity directly into Raja’s core, and she squeezed Manila to her with her opposite arm around her waist. Raja couldn’t help but increase her pace, Manila’s reactions were so exciting.

Raja slipped her fingers down lower, stroking experimentally over Manila’s folds to feel her utterly soaking wet pussy. Yes.

“Do you like this?” asked Raja.

“Yeah,” breathed Manila, tilting her head back to rest on her shoulder.

Raja slipped her fingers inside of her once more and Manila tried to rock her hips for more friction but Raja held her in place and began to move her fingers, agonizingly gentle, teasing and testing for the right spot that would make Manila lose her mind.

Raja found it, and Manila bit back a broken moan, her body jerking forward a little as she grasped Raja’s arm around her waist, her fingers digging in. Raja kept going, rubbing against Manila’s clit with the base of her thumb and pressing her fingers inside her, hitting the spot that made her react, again.

Manila panted and gasped, arching her back, and Raja kissed her shoulder. There was a sheen of sweat on her cleavage from the warm, sunlit room that Raja really wanted to lick, but she wasn’t in the right position to do so. Oh well. This was also very good, Manila’s wetness was dripping all over her hand as she gasped and rutted down with her hips.

“I’m- I’m getting close,” gasped Manila, digging her nails into Raja’s arm.

Raja then decided to something utterly evil.

Raja stopped, and slid her fingers out of Manila entirely.

“Wha-” panted Manila with desperate frustration as was she left on the cruellest edge, “Why are you-”

“Lie down on your back,” said Raja, letting go of her Manila’s waist, a plan forming in her mind.

“You are the worst-” complained Manila, and she shakily got out of Raja’s lap and crawled forward, giving Raja an excellent view.

“Have I ever told you that you have a fantastic ass?” commented Raja, shifting up onto stiff knees and cracking her neck in anticipation of the task ahead of her.

Manila glanced over her shoulder with a pouty, false-innocent look that set something inside of Raja on fire, and then she flopped down on her back, propping herself up on her elbows.

Manila looked so beautiful laid out like that that Raja paused for a moment just to admire her, the sheen of sweat on her chest, her messy hair, her blown-out pupils and the look of intense arousal on her face.

“Are we going to be here all day?” challenged Manila, pouting.

“Wow, someone’s a little brat,” teased Raja, leaning down and kissing Manila’s stomach.

Raja quickly hooked her fingers in Manila’s underwear and pulled them down her thighs as Manila lifted her hips to help. Then Raja lay down on her stomach between Manila’s legs and ran a finger over her wet, sensitive pussy, amazed by how turned on she still was. Raja couldn’t help but be flattered by the physical effect she had on Manila.

“When it’s my turn I’m going to make you suffer,” said Manila, but her threat was very much undermined by the broken moan that left her as she arched her back and bit her lip as Raja stroked her again.

“Ooh, I can’t wait,” smirked Raja, heady and pleased.

Raja ghosted gentle kisses around her thighs and her lower belly, and then laughed as Manila practically growled at her. But she wouldn’t make Manila wait much longer, Raja ran her tongue experimentally over her folds, the taste and sensation firing constellation-like synapses in Raja’s mind. Manila let out another whimper as Raja swirled her tongue around her clit.

Mmm, pussy.

Raja went to town, spreading Manila’s legs a little wider and adjusting the angle of her neck to stay comfortable. She built it up, keeping the rhythm on her clit with her tongue as she pressed her fingers up into the lovely wetness once more.

“This feels so good,” sighed Manila, and Raja flicked her eyes up at her expression. Manila’s cheeks had flushed pink, and she reached her hand inside her bra to play with her nipple, her eyelids fluttering momentarily with pleasure. She looked absolutely excellent, far more relaxed than Raja had ever seen her before.

Raja continued, building up her rhythm as Manila began to gasp and moan and roll her hips against Raja’s face. It felt so good to please her friend like this, the ache of Raja’s own desire still warm and insistent between her legs.

Raja hooked her fingers, finding her g-spot once again, and flicking her tongue over Manila’s clit, hard and rapid while Manila clenched her thighs and arched her back even more and moaned, pressing herself up against Raja’s face until Raja had to hold her firmly against the bed with her opposite hand. Raja steadily increased the rhythm on her clit, and Manila got louder and louder, cursing over and over, and moaning Raja’s name until Raja felt her movements get erratic, and her internal muscles clenched and-

Sudden liquid dripped out onto Raja’s hand, as Raja brought Manila through an orgasm so good it could move tectonic plates. Manila moaned pathetically, her breath heavy, clutching desperately at the sheets as she let Raja take care of her.

Someone banged on the door.

“Oh my god, Raja, this is excessive even for you-”

“Go away Carmen!”

“Sorry, Carmen,” called Manila in an unsteady, breathy whimper of a voice.

“Wait, you’ve got Manila in there? Congratulations, bitches!”

Raja laughed, and sat up, wiping her face clean on her loose shirt before flopping down next to Manila and curling in to her side. Manila propped herself up on one elbow and swallowed dryly, shaking her head, her eyes glazed over in amazed disbelief. She looked like she’d been thoroughly fucked, thought Raja with keen affection, along with immense satisfaction on her own part.

“Ugh, that was really nice, that was so good,” repeated Manila, rolling onto her side to face Raja, and Raja practically glowed with the praise, “But how do Delta and Carmen both already know about this?”

“I’m not great with secrets,” shrugged Raja, nuzzling Manila’s neck and cuddling up against her.

Manila didn’t respond, instead she cuddled back into Raja with a happy little sigh, shutting her eyes. There was nothing in Raja’s gently stoned brain but post-sex satisfaction. After a few minutes Raja sat up, tracing her finger down Manila’s body from her shoulder to her chest, then down the dip of her waist and up and rise of her hip.

“You’re a bit of a pillow princess,” teased Raja, with a smirk, “I’m not sure what I expected, but you’re such a bratty little bottom-”

“No I’m not!” protested Manila in offence, sitting up.

“Yeah, you are,” taunted Raja, with a what-can-you-do shrug.

“Bitch, I’m about to destroy you,” said Manila, stretching her arms over her head and cracking the knuckles in fingers intimidatingly. She gave Raja an evil smile that was only slightly off-set by her blissed-out expression.

Raja gulped, now regretting her choice to tease her friend. She knew Manila was competitive, but what beast had she awakened?

“Now show me where you keep your vibrators and get on your back,” ordered Manila, with a deliciously authoritative grin.

Raja’s heart leapt and the warmth between her legs, which had much been waiting for this moment all day, flared back to violent, excited life. She told Manila where the sex toys were and rolled onto her her back, pulling off her underwear and tossing them aside, so glad to be fully naked. Raja couldn’t wait to see what Manila could do.

Finally.

Manila selected a small purple vibrator from Raja’s extensive collection in the plastic bin under her bed, and sat back up. Raja lay out before her, stretching like a happy cat, a pleased expression on her face under her half-lidded, bloodshot eyes. Her body was beautiful, long and lithe with subtle curves. Manila couldn’t help but feel honoured that Raja was showing herself to her like this. A few days ago she’d have never thought this would happen in like, real life, outside of her fantasies.

The earth-shattering orgasm from a few minutes ago had been, uh. Phew. Manila’s body responded strongly to Raja’s presence, and she felt tired and a little faded. But the opportunity to please Raja in return was one Manila couldn’t pass up.

Plus, she kind of liked the whole bossy thing that Raja was bringing out in her.

Manila crawled on top of Raja and gently kissed her neck, holding herself barely an inch above her so that their bodies weren’t quite touching. All those abdominal workouts at the gym were proving handy. Raja’s neck tasted amazing, and she made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a purr that Manila really really liked. Raja caressed her waist, and arched her back, pressing herself up into Manila, their skin practically tingling where it met.

“You’re so beautiful,” sighed Raja. “I’m like so lucky,”

Manila smiled to herself and then sucked down hard on the corner of Raja’s neck where it met her shoulder. Raja let out an undignified squeak and Manila bit her just a little, knowing she’d have a reddish purple hickie bloom on Raja’s light brown skin later, and Raja moaned and arched into her further, wrapping her arms around Manila’s back and holding her close.

Manila tried to make some more space between their bodies, but Raja wasn’t really letting her. But Manila managed to sneak her hand between their bodies, flicking on the vibrator, and slid it between Raja’s legs, which she spread eagerly for her with a happy sigh. Raja was incredibly uninhibited, and that only encouraged Manila, making her bolder. It was so freeing to be intimate with someone like this and not worry about judgement. Or maybe that was just the weed talking.

But Raja was moving against her, rubbing herself up against the vibrator pressed between them, tangling her hand in Manila’s hair as she kissed her neck. Manila couldn’t help but fantasize about what else they might do as she held the buzzing device against Raja, drawing her pleasure out, from lazily fucking all afternoon to maybe a few more hardcore things… hopefully involving strap-ons, she was fairly sure she’d seen something like that in Raja’s box of sex toys.

Manila shifted the vibrator to a slightly different angle and Raja whimpered into her ear. Manila moved it gently against her, and reached between them again with her opposite hand to toy with her nipple.

Raja seemed to really enjoy that, because she arched her back and moaned something incoherent, rutting against the vibrator. Manila shifted down so she could lick and suck on Raja’s opposite nipple, pinching the other one as Raja let out an exhilarated yelp, and clutched Manila close, pressing her fingers into her back and rolling her hips. Raja’s body lithe arched and her breath was heavy, and then she slowed her hips, with a final little twitch.

“Did that feel good?” asked Manila, as she stood back up on her hands and knees and clicked the vibrator off, tossing it aside. She couldn’t help but ask, she wanted the approval.

“Mmm, yes,” replied Raja, sitting up and kissing her lazily. “But I’m not done, I want more of you…”

Manila smiled, almost blushing at Raja’s raw, simple statement of desire. But then Manila had an idea, and she turned on her back, lying next to Raja, who cuddled into her instinctively. It was so cute that Raja was physically affectionate, both platonic and romantic in equal measure, just like the way she’d been with her since they’d started being friends, but now with a different energy.

“Get up and sit on my face,” ordered Manila.

Raja blinked at her, and then grinned and got up with a slight grunt, straddling Manila’s chest with her long, beautiful legs bent at the knee.

“Have you ever done this before?” asked Raja, looking down at her, her long dark hair framing her face.

Manila narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her gaze on Raja’s face and not just stare at her pussy, which was really very much in her line of vision. Instead she ran her hands up Raja’s thighs and gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

“A lady never tells.”

“Oh, so you’re a lady now?” chuckled Raja, brushing Manila’s hair back so that she didn’t kneel on it as she shuffled forward, holding herself just above Manila.

“I’ve done it a couple times, it’s not that hard, come on,” whined Manila, vaguely realizing that her vow to tease Raja and make her suffer wasn’t going very well at this rate. Somehow she’d ended up being the one begging, again. In the future, when Manila had gotten used to this and was a little more, uh, composed around Raja, Raja would be the one begging. Definitely. For sure.

But Manila had a lot more important things to focus on, as Raja carefully lowered herself onto her face and Manila tilted her head back slightly, and held Raja’s hips. For once Manila didn’t doubt herself, they were figuring all of this out after all, emotionally and physically, and had plenty of time to do so.

If Raja was the kind of person who felt embarrassment about sexual situations, she might’ve felt a little embarrassed sitting on Manila’s face right now, or even embarrassed by how badly Manila seemed to want her. Luckily, Raja didn’t really feel embarrassed about sex, especially when she had a little weed in her. So, she very carefully held herself in place, sitting down but not putting the entirety of her weight on Manila’s face. She really didn’t want to break her friend’s neck, and/or accidentally suffocate her, that would not be a fun way to end the afternoon.

Manila lapped gently at her folds, quickly locating her clit and swirling her soft, velvety tongue around it. Raja exhaled through her nose, pleasure mixing with the hazy sensation in her mind, her aroused body quickly shifting back into gear. Mmm, Manila was so soft…

Okay, maybe she was a little more than soft, because she holding Raja’s hips very decisively, and encouraging her to rock against her. While Raja definitely didn’t want to hurt her or put on too much pressure the temptation to move was really strong. So Raja did, just a little.

Vaguely aware that she her own bodily juices were dripping all over Manila’s face and chin, Raja leaned forward slightly try to get a grip on the wall, her palms flat out.

“Is this- are you okay?” asked Raja, the shake in her voice giving her away as a a ripple of pleasure went through her body.

Manila nodded, confidently wrapping her arm around Raja’s thigh and pressing her in even closer.

“Mmh-” managed Raja, grinding slowly against Manila’s nose and mouth as Manila flicked her tongue against the delicate, tender skin around the entrance of her pussy, before pushing her tongue up inside her.

The wall wasn’t giving Raja much support, her sweaty palms were slipping and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. But this felt so good, the precarious feeling like she was unravelling. Manila’s lidded gaze flicked up to meet hers, and Raja was sure her face must have been ridiculous, her mouth open, panting and desperate with pleasure. Manila’s gaze was mischievous. Damn it.

A moan escaped Raja, and she wondered if it was the weed that was making her hyperaware of her hands right now, as Manila slipped her tongue in and out of her, building her up, and Raja ground herself on Manila’s face, hoping she wasn’t hurting her, babbling, “This feels so good, I- oh my god, fuck, Manila-“

This only seemed to invigorate Manila further, as she sucked on her clit in a way that made Raja’s eyes roll back in her head, as she felt the slick of sweat on her back. Raja slumped forward, and her hands managed to find the low board running across the head of her bed, which she’d forgotten about until this moment. Raja gripped it with one hand to make sure she wasn’t putting all her weight on Manila, and looked down again.

Manila’s beautiful hair was all shoved up behind her head to keep it safe from Raja’s knees. Raja tangled her hand in the beautiful black curls, the texture practically alive under her extra-sensitive fingertips. Manila somehow managed to nod that that was okay, and it electrified Raja even further and the entire world could have been burning and Raja wouldn’t have noticed, gasping as the pleasure wound higher and higher and her entire body tensed and unravelled.

After a several long moments of white-hot pleasure and astral-projection into outer space, Raja blinked and shuffled off of Manila, shivering from the aftershocks. Manila blinked, and turned her head to the side, cracking her neck. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, attempting to clean up the combination of Raja’s slick juices and her own saliva that was all over half of her face.

“Is your neck okay?” said Raja, her voice weak as she slid down next to Manila to cuddle. “Also, you might need a towel.”

“Yeah, my neck is fine,” replied Manila smugly. “Did I destroy you?”

“Yeah, you really did,” sighed Raja, pressing her face into Manila’s neck and breathing in, “I knew this was going to be awesome.”

Manila laughed quietly and kissed her cheek.

“I think we should have a nap,” whispered Raja, hazy relaxation taking over her limbs, “Then a snack, and some more weed, and then we can make out again later. Do you want to stay?”

“I have that research assignment I should be working on…” replied Manila, but she didn’t make any effort to get up, instead she reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the end of Raja’s blanket, pulling it around them both and snuggling in, “…but a nap sounds nice too.”

Raja couldn’t help but smile, slipping her arm around Manila’s waist and holding her close as she relaxed into a a gentle doze.

They’d finally stopped joking and dancing around each other, and it felt really, really good.

“I’m like so happy you rescued me from the grocery store that time a few weeks ago,” sighed Raja, reflecting on how it had all began, and passing her joint to Manila, who was tangled up in her lap on the living room couch.

After the excellent sex-filled afternoon a week ago, and several more conversations about feelings and boundaries, Raja and Manila had arrived at an arrangement of casual dating. They’d both just handed in major assignments and as such, were taking a break from the endless deluge of schoolwork to chill out. The relationship so far was great, relaxed and low-pressure enough for Raja to feel comfortable, but intentional and committed enough to suit Manila’s needs. Raja hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before, and was still working out what it meant, if anything. But more importantly, they were being honest with each other, and that was very sexy, and things felt really fucking good.

“Ha,” chuckled Manila, inhaling and blowing smoke back into Raja’s face, “Anytime, Raja. You’re a ridiculous human.”

“No, you are,” said Raja affectionately, kissing her ear and then moving a little lower to gently nuzzle her neck.

“They’re disgusting,” stated Delta from their left side, with a smile at the edge of her mouth as she played Super Smash Bros with Carmen, “I knew this would happen.”

“Yeah Raja, you’re so embarrassing,” laughed Carmen from their right side, leaning forward with the controller, and competing with Delta on the screen. Manila laughed along with her, and poked Raja’s side, teasing her.

“Aren’t you gonna fight her for my honour or something?” whined Raja to Manila in complaint.

“Nope,” chuckled Manila, kissing her cheek.

“You’re right, they’re terrible,” complained Carmen to Delta, but she accepted the joint that Manila passed to her anyway, with a smile.

Something interesting stirred in Raja’s stomach at Manila’s casual threat and she cuddled her a little closer, already excited to head up to her room later.

“We should make some ground rules,” stated Delta, jabbing at the controller, “No sex on the couch, for example.”

“Yeah, we already broke that one,” said Raja, with an evil grin.

“Oh my god, the couch is communal!”

“Wait, this couch?” demanded Carmen, mildly disgusted, glancing down at the cushions she was sitting on.

“Do we have another one?”

“No…”

“Okay, let go of me,” said Manila, gently removing Raja’s hand from around her waist and leaning forward, reaching for a controller. “I’m gonna join the melee.”

Delta and Carmen finished up their round as Manila got set up, and Raja reached past Carmen’s back to the side of the couch for some chips. Mmm, salt. Raja didn’t particularly feel like playing video games today, she just wanted to keep smoking and relax, but she didn’t mind if her friends did so around her. She shuffled so that she was sitting with her legs open with Manila between them, leaning forward. Manila’s body language was focused, and her thumbs moved rapidly over the joystick and the letter buttons, her grip was confident on the plastic controller.

Without needing to ask, Raja gently took Manila’s hair out of it’s ponytail, and carded her hands through it. Manila gossiped back and forth with Carmen and Delta, letting Raja gently weave little braids into her hair while they fought and trounced one another on the screen.

An easy, affectionate feeling came over Raja, one that was both familiar and new, glowing in her chest. Raja wondered vaguely if it was just the weed talking, again.

No, Raja realized as she heard Manila laugh and smiled to herself, this feeling had nothing to do with weed.

It was love.

#rpdr fanfiction #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #smut #fluff #everybody knows you're high #dartmouth420 #tw weed

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remys-lucky-franc · 4 years

Text

Real Love : Queen of Thieves Fic - Leon x MC (Daisy)

Rating: Fluffy goodness

Word Count: 2784

Writer Notes: So, uh, hi! This is the first fic I’ve written for the Lovestruck fandom and I’m kind of hyperventilating about posting it so please be kind 💜 and if you read (thank you!) and do enjoy it, I’d love to hear what you thought!

Tag List: I don’t have one yet, but if you’d like to be on it when I do, please let me know! @wrath-gutierrez

[MORE]

Daisy pulled her long dark hair up into a messy bun as she smiled to herself into the mirror, watching the reflection of Leon dress. They’d been together for a few months now, and Daisy would never tire of the sight of him; his chiseled jaw, the broadness of his shoulders... His hands, strong but surprisingly delicate when he brushed her hair back from her cheek... Daisy’s mind began to wander as she gazed into the mirror, her face flushing as Leon caught her staring, saying nothing but quirking one eyebrow at her, a cocky half-grin on his lips. Daisy turned, laughing,

“I like what I see... Ok??”

Leon chuckled warmly at his fiancée, pulling her into a warm hug, pressing a kiss into her hair,

“Good. I’ve got to go now, Nikolai has me checking some more routes today before the heist. You can join me, if you’d like?”

Daisy tilted her chin up to Leon, shaking her head,

“I have research of my own to do today, we can maybe go eat together later?”

Leon closed his dark eyes, looking almost sad to be separated as he caught Daisy’s lips in a soft kiss,

“Sounds good.”

Daisy pecked his lips again, grinning, as she headed towards the sprawl of books on the desk,

“Don’t work too hard...”

—-

Several hours later Daisy headed into the common room in search of food, trying to release the crick in her neck, muttering to herself about how she should know better than to sit for so long in the one position. Locating a fancy-looking box of pastries on the coffee table and swiping two chocolate twists, she moved to the kitchen and fired up the coffee machine. Hopping onto a bar stool Daisy drank deeply from the oversized mug, sighing contentedly, ‘Who wouldn’t need a huge caffeine hit after hours of research?!’

Smiling widely as Vivienne appeared in the doorway, Daisy gestured to the coffee machine. Vivienne declined the beverage, but pulled up a bar stool to chat. After discussing some of the finer points of Daisy’s research, and Vivienne and Remy’s surveillance on their mark, the women moved away from work chatter. Daisy let out an excited squeak when Vivienne reached the topic of she and Leon’s first Valentine’s Day together, which was approaching rapidly,

“I only thought of it, like an hour ago, but it is perfect!! And I’m so excited!!”

Vivienne couldn’t help but laugh, Daisy’s energy was contagious when she was like this,

“Go on, Daisy, do tell??”

Daisy bit her lip, looking around like she was giving away a really juicy secret,

“I’ve decided I’m going to take him on a spa day!!!”

Vivienne nodded,

“Ooh, relaxing, massages, quality time together... Excellent idea!”

Daisy nodded vigorously,

“It’ll be perfect! Before our treatments we can use the sauna, and float around the pool... I haven’t did that since we left Hong Kong! I’m going to talk to him about it tonight so we can plan it!”

Vivienne pulled out her cellphone,

“You know, I know a lovely place that you may be interested in...”

Daisy clapped her hands together, excited at how everything seemed to be falling into place, praising herself for being so clever , ‘Leon will love this! He never just takes time out for himself!’

—-

As arranged via text message, Daisy and Leon were meeting at the little cafe around the corner, a little light dinner... And maybe a glass of wine in the last of the weak January sun...?

Daisy practically skipped to their meeting place, Leon was already there waiting. She bounced into the seat beside him, wrapping her slim arms around his back in a hug as she went, planting a kiss on his cheek in greeting as he smiled, taking her small hand in his,

“Good day?”

Daisy nodded enthusiastically, her dark hair falling into her face as as did so,

“So awesome! Yours? Let’s order food and we can chat all about it!”

Leon pressed a kiss to Daisy’s knuckles in agreement, before catching the waiter’s attention and making their requests.

Grazing on the selection of breads, cheese and pates that arrived, Daisy listened intently to Leon’s conversation about the best routes and their pros and cons regarding the upcoming heist. She filled him in on the research she’d carried out today, and on what she’d learned from Vivienne earlier.

Their conversation was easy, it felt natural. It hadn’t always felt so uninhibited: it had taken so long for her to gain Leon’s full trust, for him to be able to voice his true thoughts and feelings... Daisy smiled as she watched him talk. He’d avoided talking for so long, so many things passed between them unsaid...

Leon suddenly stopped what he was saying and laughed at Daisy, his eyes twinkling with mischievous,

“What?? Why are you grinning at me like that??”

Daisy gasped theatrically as she clutched his hand and exclaimed,

“Am I not allowed to grin at the man I love??”

Leon shook his head in mock despair, twirling the engagement ring on her finger as her murmured,

“Your face will stick that way...”

Daisy popped the last piece of brie into her mouth as she retorted,

“Good! Everyone can see how happy we are! Speaking of which... I’ve had the most amazing, romantic idea for Valentines Day... I’m going to take us on a couples spa day! It’ll be so relaxing, Leon! We’ll use the pool, the jacuzzi, we’ll have aromatherapy massages... It’ll be so great!”

Daisy beamed at Leon, a smile lighting up her whole face. She felt entirely pleased with herself as she listed the details of their spa experience, telling him about Vivienne’s recommended venue, until Leon gently covered her hand with his, halting her train of thought completely, a far-off look in his eyes,

“Daisy, that sounds lovely, honestly, but I think you’d have more fun if you went with Vivienne.”

Daisy stopped in her tracks, she couldn’t help the crestfallen expression that washed over her face before she managed to mask it with a tight smile, mumbling,

“Oh, ok. Sure...”

She wanted a romantic getaway with Leon, not a girl’s day with her friend... How had she gotten it so wrong? He loved floating around the rooftop pool at the Hong Kong penthouse... He would dissolve into her touch when she rubbed his shoulders... As tough as Leon was, he wouldn’t dismiss something like a spa day as ‘girly’ - especially not if it meant spending some real quality time together...

—-

Leon’s stomach turned over and over as he walked back to the penthouse with an arm around Daisy’s waist. He felt like a jerk. She’d looked so excited with her spa day idea. And it sounded so nice. And if he were another guy, in another body, not one criss-crossed with old scars and battle wounds, he’d have liked nothing more than to have whiled away the day with his girl... But how could he? How could they walk into a plush day spa when he looked like ‘this’... Leon closed his eyes, letting out a weary sigh as they stepped into the elevator. He’d reconciled a lot of the negative feelings he’d had about himself, about his past... Adjusted his perspective. But to anyone on the outside who didn’t know him, with his shirt off, he would always look like a thug... There was no changing that.

Daisy stole a nervous glance up at Leon: unsure what was wrong, but well aware there was something gravely bothering him.

Entering the common room, Vivienne glanced up from her magazine to greet them, winking at Daisy,

“Ah, the lovebirds!”

Daisy gave Vivienne a subtle shake of her head to deflect any further conversation as Leon headed off towards their bedroom. Vivienne grimaced,

“Sorry Daisy, I thought..?”

Daisy shrugged her shoulders sadly,

“So did I. I should...”

She gestured as though to follow Leon. Vivienne nodded as Daisy turned to go.

—-

Opening the bedroom door, Daisy frowned as she found Leon shirtless in front of the mirror, still as a statue. She clicked the door shut gently, moving across the floor towards him. He didn’t look up at her, not once. As she reached Leon, Daisy stopped behind him, placing her hands on his muscular biceps, stroking gently, up and down causing goosebumps on the exposed skin. She kissed his shoulder, finally getting him to make eye contact in the mirror,

“Penny for them?”

Leon stiffened, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to search for the words he wanted to tell her, trying not to hide his feelings. Eventually shaking his head, he turned in Daisy’s arms to embrace her,

“Your idea was beautiful. But I can’t, Daisy. I... I would be so out of place there. I love you and I don’t want to embarrass you, with all of these.”

He pulled back to point downwards at the ravines of scar tissue scattered across the expanse his torso,

“I just wouldn’t fit in at a fancy spa. With strangers. I’m sorry.”

Daisy felt her eyes prickle with tears as she stared at him, mouth slightly agape, horrified,

“Leon Kwan, I will never be embarrassed of you?! I love you!! I can’t believe you think that?!”

Leon scrunched his eyes tightly closed as he breathed,

“I’m sorry, I love you too.”

Daisy gripped both his hands in hers firmly,

“Hey, I don’t want you to apologise! I don’t care what anyone thinks about you! I’m proud to be with you! Always, ok? No matter where we are!”

Leon shot Daisy a small, almost convincing smile before kissing her cheek and heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

—-

Daisy lay awake in bed for hours, listening to Leon’s rhythmic breath, watching the moonlight against his gently rising and falling chest, highlighting the war wounds from days gone by. It tugged at her heart that Leon, who was so brave and usually full of so much swagger, seemed so distraught at the idea of other people seeing his bare chest and arms. It made sense now, he never even wore short sleeves... The Poppy were the only ones who ever saw his scars: his trusted friends... Why hadn’t she realised that before? Daisy lightly traced her fingers across the long-healed injuries, each one unique, wondering about the secrets behind each one... By the time sleep finally came, she’d formulated a plan.

—-

“Miss you already, see you Thursday!”

Daisy waved as Leon blew her a kiss. He’d carried her case right to the door of the train. She felt a mix of excitement and regret that she’d lied to him... But it was only a little lie... And he’d appreciate it in the end... She sat back in the seat as the train roared through the French countryside, opening the anatomy textbook book she’d been told to read prior to the two-day massage course she was on her way to attend. Nikolai had rolled his eyes when she’d asked for his help to cover up what she was really doing, but he’d gone along with it anyway. She mused, ‘Maybe he’s a true romantic at heart?!’

—-

St Valentines Day arrived and Daisy smiled like a crazy person as she rolled over in bed to snuggle into Leon, ‘My first Valentines Day as a fiancée!!!’

Giggling to herself she pressed a series of warm kisses into his neck until he mumbled thickly,

“Good morning...”

Daisy whispered,

“Not just any morning!! Valentine’s morning!!”

Leon rubbed the sleep from his eyes and quizzed her,

“I didn’t think we were ‘doing’ Valentine’s on account of you wanting romance every day,and because of how overly-commercialised it is...?”

Daisy’s mouth opened and closed, a panicked look on her face until Leon started to chuckle...

“Daisy, you can tell me it’s become a Hallmark Holiday a thousand times, I still know you want to be romanced on Valentine’s Day...”

Daisy’s eyes sparkled as she playfully thumped his arm,

“Well thank goodness for that!! You had me worried!!”

Leon reached under his side of the bed producing a large red envelope addressed to Daisy as she squeaked with excitement.

—-

And the card was just the beginning! Ever the romantic, Leon presented Daisy with a bouquet of roses, her favourite sweets, a romance novel and a beautiful antique brooch. Daisy had bought Leon a new shirt, a romance novel and his favourite aftershave, as well as a fluffy dressing gown. He raised a brow at Daisy when he opened that particular parcel...

She had made plans that there would be no work today and they would be able to spend the whole day together.

Taking a stroll hand in hand around the Eiffel Tower, sharing chocolate crepes, Daisy grinned knowing what was waiting for Leon back at the penthouse... As they headed back Daisy suggested watching a rom-com and snuggling for the evening, Leon nodded happily... Daisy gave herself an imaginary high-five: she’d managed to set him up perfectly! She giggled to herself, ‘I am *quite* the con artist now - Remy must be so proud!!!’

On their return, Daisy slipped into her pretty lemon-print pyjamas and encouraged Leon to put on his new bathrobe. Leaving Leon to locate a movie she knew wasn’t available on their streaming service, Daisy quickly set to work in their bedroom! She dragged the massage bed into the centre of the floor-Jett had assembled it for her earlier in the week. She drew the blinds, allowing just a little light to creep through, and lit several candles to create a romantic and relaxing atmosphere within the room. The final touch was the spa music Zoe had helped her to find online...

Feeling very pleased with herself and slightly nervous about Leon’s reaction, she shouted through to the common room,

“Hey Leon, can you help me for a minute??”

No verbal confirmation came, but in seconds Leon was opening the door, a slightly stunned and taken aback look dancing across his face,

“What’s...?”

Daisy threw her arms up as though to yell ‘SURPRISE!’,

“I brought you a massage! I took a course and everything! I even got a certificate! I can show you?”

Leon bit his lip to stop himself laughing, Daisy was so funny when she was excited, it was adorable,

“I don’t need to see your certificate... Wow... Daisy, I can’t believe you did all this?”

Daisy twined her arms around her tall fiancé’s neck, purring,

“Believe it. Now, lose the robe... “

Leon obliged, discarding the soft garment to one side. Daisy inhaled sharply as she admired him, her fingers drawn to the flaws in his taught skin,

“Leon? You shouldn’t be ashamed or embarrassed what random people think of your scars. You know that, right? They just tell a part of your story...”

She reached out gently stroking the scar on his forearm,

“This was from when you saved your friends from being attacked in the Underbelly... Every one of your scars is there for a reason...”

Leon swallowed hard, staring at Daisy’s tender expression in the soft candlelight,

“I wish they were all so noble...”

Daisy reached up to cup his cheeks in her palms,

“It doesn’t matter, no single one of them defines you. It’s like chapters in a book... One glance at the cover doesn’t tell you everything you need to know. The people who love you took the time to get the whole story straight...”, she cleared her throat, “Anyway, hurry up, your massage awaits!”

Leon looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it, kissing the end of Daisy’s nose and resting his forehead against hers momentarily before settling himself on the massage bed. Daisy rubbed her chilly January hands together to make them more pleasant to the touch before drizzling a stream of warm oil across Leon’s muscular back.

He sighed as the delicate aroma filled their space,

“Hmmmm... Lavender...”

Daisy smirked, ‘Would it have been anything else??’

Her fingers started at the nape of his neck and rolled fluidly down and around, following the sinews, over his shoulder blades, soothing away the tension as she worked. Losing herself in the rhythm of the massage as she felt him melt into her touch, the texture and scent of the oil, and the peaceful waterfall sounds coming from her tablet; Daisy smiled. This was much better than a spa day. She was able to give Leon something special where he felt comfortable in the safety of his own space, something private and intimate that no one else could give to him. A warmth spread through Daisy’s heart as she took it all in, ‘*This*is real love.’

#lovestruck fic #qot fic #qot leon x mc

34 notes · View notes

carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 5 years

Text

sorry it’s late but here’s the Simon/Baz Bookshop AU

Real life got to me yesterday

____________________

Simon

Penny’s birthday is next week. I don’t know what to get for her.

She’d probably like if I didn’t make such a mess in the kitchen every time I cook but that’s not really a present now, is it? It’s a courtesy you’d expect from a flat-mate. Like you’d expect someone to clean her hair out of the shower drain.

I can’t think about the things that drive me and Penny stark raving mad about us sharing a flat.

Shopping for Agatha was easier. She liked things.Candles and perfume and picture frames. The bracelet I got her. The hat and scarf set. It was easier with a girlfriend.

When I had a girlfriend.

I don’t want to think about that either.

But Penny’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend so I feel like an utter pillock for not knowing what to get her.

Don’t want to get her something silly, like I used to. We’ve already got too many mugs at the flat anyway. Funny ones. Ones with stupid pictures or puns on them. Penny used to love those when we were in school.

I shove my hands in my pockets and frown at the world in general.

I stop by the bakery on my way home. Not that a cherry scone will solve my problem but it does make me feel better.

I catch sight of the new bookshop on the corner as I leave the bakery. I suppose it’s not really new. It’s been there for a few months. Penny raves about it. It’s got an eclectic selection of books according to her. Which means a fair selection of feminist literature, books on the occult, and ancient history.

I’ve been avoiding it.

It’s not that I don’t like books. I do. Or at least I do now. Didn’t care for them much when I was young. Had trouble reading when I was a kid. Someone finally figured out the issue and it was like a light turning on in a dark room.

I like books well enough now. Fantasy and science fiction mainly. Penny says I should read more classic literature and biography.

I like biographies. Just depends who they’re written about.

I stand on the street corner and scowl at the bookstore. “Open Sesame” it’s called. Odd name for a bookstore but Penny likes it. Says it makes her think she’s entering a magical world when she goes in.

I’m sure I could find something for Penny there.

I just don’t want to go in.

I’m sure it’s a fine bookshop. I know it is. I went in there once, when it first opened.

And managed to piss off one of the employees.

I didn’t mean to spill my coffee, really, I didn’t. He just startled me. Came out of nowhere, he did. I wasn’t expecting one of the employees to be lurking among the shelves. Thought they’d be at the counter or something like that. You know--selling books, ringing people up, the usual store thing.

But it seems this wasn’t that kind of bookshop. There was a red-haired chap up at the counter and an older woman at a desk near the back of the store. I didn’t know there was another bloke—one with longish dark hair and arresting grey eyes—prowling around the store and startling unsuspecting customers.

He came up right behind me, he did, and said “That’s a bit of a humdrum one. If you’re looking for a fantasy novel that’s not one I’d recommend.”

I’d been reading a bit of it. Just to get a feel for the book. See if it interested me. Didn’t expect some posh, disembodied voice to pop up out of nowhere in the vicinity of my ear. I started and my coffee went down my shirt, splashed onto the book in my hand and dripped all over their new carpet.

“Bloody hell! Give a guy a bit of warning, could you?” I turned to scowl at whoever it was who had crept up on me like that.

Slate grey eyes met mine. His gaze raked me from top to toe and it was obvious in his sneer that whatever he saw was sadly lacking. “We try to be helpful to the customers here. Wouldn’t want you to buy something you didn’t find interesting.” He glanced at the coffee stained book in my hand. “Unfortunately, it seems that you will be this time.”

I spluttered for a moment but had to admit to myself that I’d mucked the book up. And the carpet too. “Listen, of course I’ll pay for the book. I can see that I’ve ruined it. And I’m sorry about the carpet too.” I looked down at the irregular dark stain in front of my feet then back up at him. “You startled me. Helpful suggestions are one thing but sneaking up on unsuspecting customers like that is unnerving.”

He didn’t say a word back to me. Just held my gaze for a minute before turning away and bellowing “Fiona!” at the lady at the back of the store. “Did you think to stock any carpet cleaner in the back? We’ve just had our first spilled coffee christening of the store. I told you carpet was a terrible idea.”

I shuffled my way up to the counter to pay for my coffee-blemished book and there he was again-- waiting for me, no sign of the other chap.

Fuck.

Rang me up without a word. Handed me my change and then pointed to an exquisitely lettered sign on the countertop. “Feel free to enjoy your beverages as you wander in the magical confines of our treasure trove of books but please no open containers. Books are magic and we wouldn’t want to damage them.”

Fuck. I hadn’t seen the sign. I never put a lid on my coffee. Don’t like lids. Keep the coffee too hot. Cools down faster without one.

I grabbed the book and hustled out of the shop, becoming painfully aware of another skillfully lettered sign situated right by the front door as I did.

I’d have to remember a lid next time I came.

No, fuck that. There wasn’t going to be a next time. I wasn’t going to set foot in that place ever again.

And I hadn’t. I’d avoided it like the plague.

But somehow, I couldn’t avoid seeing the bloke. He was everywhere, all of a sudden, it seemed.

Walking across campus. In the library. At Ebb’s bakery.

Maybe he was always there and I was just noticing him now that I’d had that miserably embarrassing encounter at the store and shouted at him.

I stare across the street at the bookshop. Surely I’ll find something for Penny there. How bad could it be? I don’t have a drink with me. I can’t possibly have a run-in with him again. I’ll check the aisles to make sure no one is lurking about.

He must be a student. I’ve seen him on campus enough to make me sure of it. He can’t work there all the time. The chances of him being there on a Wednesday afternoon are slim, right? He must have class.

I don’t let the niggling realization that it’s a Wednesday afternoon and I don’t have class deter me. I need a book for Penny. She likes this store. I’ll find something and be done with it.

The beverage sign is still on display by the front door. I honestly can’t believe I missed it the first time. I’d have finished my coffee and pitched my cup or just come back another time if I’d seen it.

There’re a few people milling about the store. The woman who had been behind the desk last time is up by the counter today. Maybe I’ll be lucky and grey eyes won’t be here.

I wander over to a display table. An interesting selection but nothing Penny would like. I go down the aisles, looking at the titles and topics, trying to find the feminist section or the occult books. I can’t make sense of the layout.

I’m scanning the titles on the endcap and not watching where I’m going. End up bumping into someone as I turn into the next aisle.

A scattering of books falls to the floor and as I look up to apologize I see a pair of grey eyes.

Fuck.

It’s him. The posh tosser. He’s not in class, he’s here. Fuck.

Maybe he won’t remember me.

“Sorry.” I mumble an apology and bend down to pick up some of the fallen books, not daring to meet his eyes again. I’m such a fucking wanker. I told myself I’d keep an eye out for lurking employees.

Although from the looks of it he wasn’t lurking this time. He was shelving books. He’s got a cart and everything.

The books are plucked out of my hand and I reluctantly raise my eyes to his. His eyebrow is arched up. He looks cool, collected and utterly bored. “At least you don’t have coffee with you this time. You’d be purchasing an entire set of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s books.” He waves a copy of Little Lord Fauntleroyat me.

Oh shit. He does remember me.

“Sorry.” I shuffle a bit and bend down to pick up The Secret Gardenfrom where it sits by my foot. I hand it to him.

He takes it from my hand and his fingertips touch mine ever so slightly as he pulls it away. They’re cold.

“Decided to venture into the world of bookshops again? Didn’t scare you off for good last time?” He raises an eyebrow, holding the stack of books to his chest.

He had scared me off. Penny’s the only reason I’m even here but I’m not about to tell him that.

“Looking for a book for a friend.” I suppose that’s telling him why I’m here. I’m such an idiot.

He turns away from me and I think this pathetic excuse for a conversation is over. I go to gingerly edge around him but he stops me. “Let me shelve these and I’ll see if I can help you.”

Even worse. Now I’ll have to actually speak to him.

I stand there awkwardly. I don’t know why I’m so nervous about it. That’s his job. He’s supposed to help people find books. Not sneak up on them and whisper in their ears, I remind myself.

I take a moment to settle down and end up watching him shelve the books. He’s tall, taller than me. Slim build but muscular, from what I can see of his arms. His hair is chin length, falling in dark waves but not obscuring the sharp planes of his face.

He’s got an arresting profile.

What the actual fuck?

What am I doing? Why am I staring at this bloke so intently? I can feel my face heating up so I turn to look at the shelf behind me, so my back is to him. The entire collection of Harry Potter books is in front of me. I focus on the spines.

It doesn’t help. I may not be looking at him but I’m still thinking about him.

He’s attractive. I’d noticed that last time, in passing, but in more of a pissed off way than I am now. I’ve gotten a closer look at him today. He’s actually fucking gorgeous. I want to turn around and look at him again but that would be a terrible idea.

I turn around and look at him just as he finishes shelving the stack of books and our eyes meet. My cheeks are hot.

He crosses his arms over his chest and regards me critically. “Looking for a book for a friend. Let’s narrow that down a bit, shall we? What kind of friend and what kind of books?”

“Uh. . . well that’s what I was looking for when I bumped into you. She’s got a lot of interests but feminism, antiquity and the occult are high on the list right now.” I look around and frown. “I couldn’t find them. I thought feminism would come shortly after Crafts and before Foreign Languages but I can’t seem to find it.”

“Feminism is in the Social Sciences so you are in the completely wrong section. Come on. Follow me.”

He tilts his head to the right and I trot after him, passing a few aisles of books before he makes a sharp turn and stops. I almost run into him but manage to catch myself before I do this time.

“So Feminist Theory? Women’s Studies? Gender studies? Any of those sound promising?”

I just stare at him. I’ve not got a fucking clue. Maybe the occult would have been a better choice.

“Uh.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest again. “Give me some idea?”

“I don’t know. Is there anything that combines the occult and feminism? Or ancient cultures and feminism?” Is that a stupid thing to ask? It’s probably a stupid thing to ask. I’m going from bad to worse here.

His grey eyes are narrowed now. “Who is this friend of yours? It wouldn’t be Bunce, would it?”

A wave of relief washes over me as well as curiosity. “Yeah, yeah. My friend Penny. Penelope Bunce. How do you know her?”

He rolls his eyes. “She’s in here practically every week. I’ve had quite a few thought-provoking conversations with her.” He shakes his head. “Come on. This way. I’ve got something new that she’s likely not seen yet.”

He strolls across the store to another section. I don’t think I realized quite how big this place is. I don’t think I had the time or inclination to notice last time.

He plucks a book off the shelf but doesn’t hand it to me, just taps a finger on his lip thoughtfully and then turns in another direction entirely with me trailing along in his wake. He heads to another display table and picks up one of the books there. “Here you go. Either one will appeal to Bunce.”

I reach for the books and our fingertips brush again. I don’t know why I notice that. I look down at the titles he handed me. ‘Circe’ and ‘Agrippina: Empress, Exile, Hustler, Whore.’

He’s moved down the aisle already and is pulling yet another book off the shelf. “Here. This one’s new too.” I take the title from him, slowly this time, my hand brushing his once more.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

Baz

I hand him a book Bunce will surely find of interest--a copy of Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger—when it happens again. Our fingers touch. It’s the third time it’s happened. I don’t know what to think. I’m not attempting to initiate contact.

That’s complete bollocks. I’m desperately trying to initiate contact. I’m not letting go of the books as he grasps them. I’m holding them in a way that makes our touch inevitable.

I’m doing everything I can to prolong this interaction.

I’ve seen him around campus for months now. He’s in my Film as Literature class. It’s an auditorium class—one of the most popular courses offered—so it’s hard to get to know everyone. He sits near the front, with Bunce. I sit in the back with Niall.

The class is enjoyable but the view even more so. I try to avoid looking at him while the professor is lecturing but I have no such compunction before class. I get there early for that very reason.

I know his name is Simon. I’ve heard Bunce call that name out at him. She shouted it across the room on the first day of class, to get his attention.

Simon.

I watched him come in the lower doors of the auditorium and saw him smile at the sight of her.

I haven’t been able to look away since.

I’m sure he didn’t even know I existed before he came into the shop.

I still can’t believe what an absolute prat I was that day. I’d been watching him for weeks by then.

Pining over him is what Niall called it but what does he know?

I’d been seeing Simon everywhere, it seemed. Class. The library. Ebb’s coffee shop.

And then he was suddenly here. I’d watched him walk in and made myself busy in the aisles as I followed him, discreetly. He’d stopped and lingered in Fantasy and Science Fiction so I purposefully made my way over there to see if I could be of assistance.

He’d been thumbing through one of Davy Mage’s books. I’ve told Fiona I don’t know why we even carry them. They’re pretentious and boring, in my opinion. But for some reason every bookshop seems to carry them. They’re insidious. It’s irritating. His writing style is pompous and overblown and his use of the Chosen One hero trope far too predictable.

I’d only meant to offer some assistance but instead I’d managed to startle him so badly he’d spilled coffee everywhere and shouted at me. I’d gone completely distant and cold in my embarrassment.

Fiona had a field day with me after he left. “That’s the boy you’ve been mooning about, then?”

“Shut up, Fiona.”

“So he is the one! You’re absolute shit at flirting, Baz.” She leaned across her desk and smirked. “Or did you just want to see him with his shirt all wet and clinging to him?”

I spent the rest of the afternoon in the store room.

But he’s here again. I thought he’d never come back.

Bunce is here almost every week but she always comes alone or with that tall American chap. I’ve never dared ask her about Simon. She talks about him though. That’s how I know he’s her roommate.

How I know his girlfriend broke up with him a few months ago.

How I know he’s not seeing anyone currently.

Against all odds he’s here again. He bumped into. Literally bumped into me and knocked down a stack of books.

His hair’s a mess, disheveled curls falling over his forehead. He’s covered with freckles. They’re much more noticeable close up. He’s fucking gorgeous and I’ve got no idea what to say or do. Play it cool,Baz, I tell myself. Don’t be a fucking numpty like last time.

It’s child’s play finding books that Bunce will like. It keeps me close to him, wandering about the store, crossing back and forth to find books I know will appeal to her. He follows right behind me and when he almost bumps into me again I catch the scent of soap and cinnamon rolls.

He must have been at the bakery before coming here.

I’ve no more excuses to keep his attention. I’ve found three or four books that will work and we’re making our way to the counter now. He’ll pay and leave and I’ll likely never speak to him again.

Fiona’s on check out duty but as soon as she sees me coming towards her she makes a show of moving off and complaining about all paperwork on her desk and how it’s my turn to run the counter. She makes a runner for the back but not before winking at me.

I’m mortified. She’s my aunt so she thinks she can get away with being this way.

I slide behind the counter. “So, which one are you going to get?” The pile of books we’ve collected as likely prospects for Bunce are in his arms. He sets them down.

Simon frowns. “I’m not sure, really.” His blue eyes meet mine. “Which one do you think she’d like best?”

I can pick one and ring him up or use this opportunity he’s given me to extend my time with him. I dart a look around the store. A few customers but no one headed up to make a purchase.

I start to talk about ‘Circe’ and then carry on about the other books. What I think Bunce would like about each one, why I think they’re relevant. I know I’m droning on and on but he’s got his eyes riveted on me and I can’t stop talking and I don’t want to look away.

I don’t want this moment to end.

He’s right here. In front of me. And I’m blathering on about subversive retellings of myth and anger transcending into political upheaval.

I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I pick up ‘Circe’ and push the other books away. “This combines a bit of everything. Feminism. The occult. Antiquity. I think she’ll like this one.”

It’s over now. He’ll pay for his book and walk out the door. And I’ll never have a chance like this with him again.

“Sounds good. I’ll take that one, then.”

“Would you like me to wrap it up? Since it’s a gift?”

“You do that?”

“It’s a service we provide, yes.” It’s not. I’m making this up on the spot. We do have some gift wrap we sell, in the back, with the gift bags and such. I ring Simon up and then leave him at the counter while I scurry to the back to grab wrap and ribbon.

“I’m taking this out of your wages, boyo.” Fiona whispers at me as I skirt by her desk, ribbon and shiny wrap in hand.

“Fine.” I have no time for her. Simon is still waiting for me up at the counter.

Simon

I could buy any of the books he’s chosen and Penny would be thrilled. It’s easier to let him choose. He’s read them all and has a better idea of what interests her, if he’s been debating feminist ideology with her. It goes over my head when she gets on a rant.

I lean my elbows on the counter and just drink him in. His face is animated and there’s a flush on his cheeks. It suits him.

I could listen to his voice all day. It’s posh and cultured but that’s not what I like about it. Not all I like about it, I mean.

I like how deep it is, resonant I suppose you’d call it. It washes over me and I’m quite content to let him go on about the books to his heart’s content.

He stops eventually. Pushes one towards me. “This one. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

I don’t even look at it. “Sounds good. I’ll take that one then.”

He offers to wrap it and I eagerly take him up on it. I’m a fright at wrapping gifts.

He disappears to the back and returns moments later with ribbon and brightly coloured paper.

It’s all precision and crisp, sharp edges. Penny won’t even believe it’s from me. His fingers are long and slender, folding the paper meticulously, curling the ribbon with an expert flick of the wrist.

That’s it then. I’ll pay up and then I’ll have to go. I don’t want to, not now. I’ve got no excuse to linger though, after he rings me up.

I pass him the money and then the coolness of his touch contacts my palm as he hands me my change. The sensation sends a rush of warmth up my arm.

He hands me a shopping bag, the expertly wrapped book carefully tucked inside. That’s it then. Time for me to go.

“Thank you. That was quite helpful.” I smile up at him. “I’ll have to remember that next time I need to get her something. Thanks so much . . .” I trial off. I don’t know his name. He gets the hint.

“Baz.”

“Thank you, Baz.” And I stand there, like a lump, not moving.

“You’re welcome . . .” he pauses meaningfully.

“Simon. I’m Simon.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Simon.” He pauses and then glances to the back of the store, tilting his head up and raising an eyebrow. I turn and catch the woman in the back rolling her eyes at him and then nodding.

“I seem to recall I made our first meeting a bit awkward, Simon. And I’m reminded that I likely owe you a coffee.” There’s a smile on his face now and this suits him even more.

“Oh. I don’t know about that. I made a right mess of your carpet.” Is he asking me to go out for coffee? Or is he just mentioning it? I’ve got no idea. I’m pants at reading people, Penny tells me that all the time.

Maybe I’m not good at reading people. Or perhaps I’m better than Penny thinks. I don’t want to wait for him to ask me.

Baz

I’m trying to work up the nerve to ask him to coffee. It should be the easiest thing in the world to say it. I’ve got leave from Fiona to bolt. I just need to get the words out.

“I might have ended up down one coffee but I’ve a feeling you ended up on carpet cleaning duty.” He’s right. I did, thanks to Fiona.

Simon’s smile is dazzling. I’m gaping at him, I’m sure.

I should just go ahead and ask him to coffee.

But then he goes and asks me.

“I think you got the worse end of that so we’re more than square.” He shifts his shopping bag from hand to hand and then gestures at the pile of books I found for him. “You helped me so much today, Baz. I know you’re working now but could I buy you a coffee sometime? As a thank you?”

“I’d love to, Simon. Is now good?”

It’s his turn to gape at me. “But aren’t you working? Can you just leave?”

“Happens I’m off. Starting now.”

I bolt from behind the counter, nod at Fiona, and come around to stand next to Simon. “Ebb’s then?”

He grins at me. “Yeah, Ebb’s. That’d be great.”

#carry on countdown #coc 2018 #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #bookstore au

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noplanlife · 5 years

Text

Consideration

Summary: The queen dreams of an idyllic future for her son, and you are a part of it.

This is the sixth chapter of a multichapter fic! Please find the rest here!

You find yourself holding a bouquet of red roses. For whatever reason, you cannot place the course of events that has brought them to you. They are not wrapped in paper, and the thorns have not been cut from their stems, so sharp pin pricks of pain dig into the flesh of your palms as you squeeze your bouquet close to your chest. No matter how much this bouquet hurts you, you know that you cannot let it go. A heavy, expectant gaze bores into you from some unseen observer. You know that they are waiting to see if you will drop your flowers, and you also know that they will be the arbiter of your punishment should you do so.

You swallow, and take a step forward. The long stretch of white carpet at your feet grows longer. Your breathing picks up as panic begins to curl icy fingers into your chest and constricts. You try to take another step and your foot catches on the hem of your dress. As you lurch forward, losing balance, the bouquet tips out of your hands. The roses burst apart into crimson petals that hit the ground in a cascade of golden coins. You throw your hands out in front of you to catch your fall when someone seizes you by the shoulder and pulls. Terrified that your punishment has now arrived, you open your mouth to scream and-“Dear, are you all right?”

You jolt into waking with a gasp that lurches you so bodily, you nearly tip out of your chair. The pounding of your blood in your ears and the mindless panic of a hazy nightmare leave you entirely disoriented and unprepared to handle the sudden presence of another person in your space. You reach up to clutch at the fabric of your shirt as your heart attempts to flee its place in your chest, and it is only the sudden feeling of a piece of paper peeling stickily away from your face that finally allows you to recall where you are. At a loss, you watch as your paperwork slips off of the desk and onto the floor in a mess of shipping logs and records of exchange you’d dozed off while studying a few hours ago.Queen Matsuyo touches your shoulder again, and you’re only barely able to refrain from jumping out of your skin at the contact.“I saw the light on in the study, and knew neither my husband or Osomatsu could possibly be in here so late. And here you were, sleeping away! Sleeping at a desk isn’t good for your back, so I came to wake you, but it looks like I only ended up scaring you instead,” the queen explains herself as she idly tucks a loose lock of her hair behind an ear. You get a good look at the older woman now, and realize she’s in none of her formalwear, crown included. At present, she’s garbed in her nightclothes, with a robe pulled snugly across her slender frame. You avert your gaze, entirely unsure where to look when faced with someone dressed so casually. The last time you’d seen your own parents in any of their nightclothes had been in your childhood. Not that they slept much, busy as they were with, well, business.Hastily, you push yourself out of your chair and smooth out your clothes in an effort to regain some of whatever dignity you’d no doubt lost when the queen had so abruptly roused you. You meet her eyes briefly before letting your gaze flit nervously to the paperwork scattered across the study space.“I’m sorry for making you have to come all the way to wake me. I got caught up in work and…” you dither, twisting your fingers around anxiously before you finally fall into a quick curtsey. “I’ll make sure to clean up and head to my quarters soon.”The queen laughs. It is a full-bodied, throaty laugh that has her clutching at her stomach and doubling over in her amusement. You gawk at her in alarm, your mouth opening and closing uselessly until she straightens up again and reaches up to wipe a tear from her eye. She seems to note the concerned expression on your face, so she waves a hand through the air, as if to wave off your concerns with her gesture.“I’m not laughing at you, dear. I just...it’s been so long since I’ve heard someone in this castle say they were going to clean up after themselves...much less, clean up after themselves because of a mess they made working-!!!” She breaks off into peals of laughter again, and your thoughts trail off unbidden towards your intended. You are immediately assaulted by the reminder of your last, flustering encounter with Osomatsu, and you recall why you’d been trying to distract yourself so thoroughly with work in the first place. Your face hot, you pull your expression into a schooled frown, and fold your arms defensively over your chest. Preoccupied as you are with your own thoughts, you don’t notice the queen stepping closer to you until she’s already taken your face in her hands. The affectionate gesture has you inhaling sharply through your nose, though the queen doesn’t seem to notice your alarm and she looks you over in a way you can only describe as fond.“If you keep frowning like that, your pretty face will get stuck that way,” Queen Matsuyo chides you gently. You blink back at her, utterly at a loss at how to respond to her treatment, and you watch as her already kind expression softens even further. “Really, the bags under your eyes are terrible. When was the last time you got any decent sleep?”The queen releases your face so that she can turn and begin a confident march toward the door. “Let me make you something warm to drink. Do you like tea? Or warm milk? The boys haven’t changed much, even from when they were little. You give any of them a cup of warm milk after a bath and they’ll be out like a candle after dark. They’re so cute,” Matsuyo muses with a sigh, obvious love coloring her tone. The expression on her face is strange and unfamiliar territory to you. You stand awkwardly next to the desk, still.“The mess…” you start, but the queen whirls around and shakes a finger at you in reprimand. “The mess will be here in the morning. And if you keep stalling, so will you! You need to rest. Now, tea or milk?”“I, ah, not to be rude, your Highness, but I’m sure the staff are sleeping by now and I don’t want to be a bother,” you try to explain while awkwardly rubbing at the back of your neck. The queen fixes you with a flat look before she heaves a sigh and plants her hands on her hips.“That’s why I’ll be making it! What’s with that expression? I make wonderful tea, and hot milk isn’t hard at all. All good mothers know how to make that when their children need it.”You aren’t sure your mother knows one end of a teapot from the other, so the queen’s statement seems a little far-fetched in your mind. In fact, the mental image of your mother trying to dote on you in any fashion makes you break out in a cold sweat. You wonder if Osomatsu grew up with the Queen Matsuyo standing before you now: insistent in her attempts to care for someone else.The hours of lessons drilled into you on proper decorum crumble away under the queen’s unwavering stare. Finally, shyly, you acquiesce to her offer, and follow the queen into the kitchens.The queen tells you late night anecdotes about her sons’ collective time growing up as she makes the both of you a warm drink. There was a period, when the boys were all little, that one of them would get a nightmare, and would seek refuge in their parents’ shared bed. Inevitably, despite the others not having a bad dream, they would all filter into their parents’ room until both the king and queen would wake up in the morning to find their limbs encircled by six pairs of tiny arms and legs. Try as you might to imagine six, smaller Osomatsus doing something so endearing, your mind cannot create the picture.“Of course, they’ll always be my precious boys. When I look at them, I still see the babies I had, and the little boys I raised, even if they’re all grown up now. But I’d been worried that they were going to have to go off and grow up on their own, now that they’re adults,” The queen confesses as she sets a steaming mug before you. She takes a seat opposite you, her gaze far off as she stirs her own drink with a delicate silver spoon. Suddenly, she fixes her gaze on you, and you stiffen under her scrutiny. She smiles at you warmly. “But I feel like I can rest easier now that you’re here. If my eldest can find someone so responsible to help him along, I’m sure my other little princes can do so too. They always follow his lead, even now.”“You think they’ll get married, then?”“Maybe. Hopefully! I want grandchildren!” The queen crows, emphatically slamming one palm to the top of the table. You scoop up your mug before the force of her blow can tip it over, and make sure to fix your gaze studiously to the contents inside of it while trying to pretend you are unaware of the expectant way she is looking at you. When she feel her eyes leave your person, you finally look back her way. She’s staring off at the other side of the room as she says, “I think, once they realize Osomatsu is finally taking the steps to grow up and be an adult, they will want to do so too. They’re all so competitive. I think once you and Osomatsu get married, they’ll move off on their own ways and find themselves.”You chew on your lower lip and nod thoughtfully. It isn’t as if you know the other princes well enough to say one way or another if the queen’s speculation is true. You open your mouth, ready to offer forth a reply, when a door slams somewhere in the distance. Both you and the queen jump in your seats, your drinks sloshing and hearts racing in surprise. The queen gets up before you can, and peers out of the kitchen doorway before looking back over her shoulder at you. Her smile is easy and nonchalant.“I think it was only the wind. This castle is pretty old, after all.”With that said, you and the queen bid one another good night, and you begin making headway back to your chambers. Your journey faces no interruptions until you pass Osomatsu’s chambers to find his door open. Standing in the dark, the prince stares at you with an unreadable expression before taking his door and slamming it closed with force.For some reason, you feel as if you’ve done something wrong.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu #osomatsu x reader #garbage fic for garbage boys #plot?????#seems impossible i know

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speedsterimagines · 6 years

Text

LADYKILLR (PART 2)

A/N: I got really into this part, I don’t know why. Also the thought of Sonny having a tattoo? Ugh. Part three will be out sometime soon, not sure exactly when but I’ll update regularly.

Summary: Dating a detective certainly has it pros and cons, but when a disheveled criminal is looking to settle a score, he goes after what Detective Carisi loves the most… you.

Word Count: 1494

Warnings: Serial Killer, Murder Victims, Stab Wound, Blood, Violence

<< Part 1 >><<Part 3>><<Part 4>><<Continuous Version>>

Sonny had been sitting at his desk for what seemed like the past 72 hours which wasn’t too far from the actual time elapsed. His normally organized work space was scattered with evidence and photos along with old chinese take out and an ice cold cup of coffee. SVU had been knee deep in a serial killer case for almost a month now, but from the beginning it seemed as though they were fighting a losing battle.

Someone was loose in the streets of Manhattan brutally attacking and murdering women at random. None of the victims could be linked to each other in any way, not their jobs, neighborhoods, or friends. The only thing the women had in common was the way they were killed. Each victim was found in her own home, no sign of forced entry, as if they knew the killer or they were welcomed in with a single stab wound to abdomen.

A couple of weeks ago, they came across a lead that seemed promising. An elderly woman claimed that she saw a delivery man at her neighbor’s door the night of her murder. Even though she claimed he had a neck tattoo, her eye sight wasn’t what it used to be and there was no way of knowing what the tattoo was. There were thousands of delivery men with neck tattoos walking the streets of Manhattan, b t there were only a handful that had previous charges, including one man who was on parole.

Hector Beckett, 37 years old, was out on parole after being charged with battery and attempted rape and had been working as a delivery man for the last few months. And as the sole eye witness describes, on the left side of his neck in old-fashioned tattoo font was the word, LADYKILLR. When Sonny came across his name and put all the pieces together, he got the approval from Olivia and made the arrest. During his interrogation he informed Hector that there was a witness that put him at the scene and his violent criminal past wasn’t going to help the situation.

“You know, when I turned eighteen I told my ma I was gonna get a tattoo,” Sonny smirked from across the metal table. “You would’ve thought I said I was gonna have a limb cut off by the way she reacted. In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t get it, those things are forever y’know? I wanted the name of my favorite scripture, Proverbs 16:9, in his mind a man plans his course,” Sonny paused for a moment putting emphasis into his words. “But the Lord directs his steps.”

Hector sat straight faced, not interested in the slightest by the detective’s small talk.

“Still would be a pretty good tattoo, come to think of it. But yours? Wow, LADYKILLR? It’s moving, truly touching. How did you choose that one?”

“What can I say? The ladies love me,” he sat back in his chair making himself comfortable.

“I’m sure you love them too,” Sonny spoke sarcastically as he opened up the folder on the table. “I bet you really loved them when you made your way into their homes and stabbed them to death.”

“You got an old lady, detective?” He laughed watching Sonny’s muscles tense at the thought of such an malicious person even thinking about the woman he loved. “Who am I kidding, you’re not really my type, but I know a handsome man when I see one. Maybe I’ll give her a visit when I get out of here.”

“Too bad you’re going to be here for a while,” Sonny stood up exiting the room before he lost control of his temper.

Olivia knew Hector wasn’t going to admit to anything and when he requested a lawyer, they were informed there simply wasn’t enough solid evidence to keep him, and within half and hour Hector Beckett walked out a free man.

Which put Sonny in his current situation now, sitting at his desk, looking over every last detail hoping something would stick out like a beacon that had previously gone unnoticed, hoping to find to anything that would incriminate Beckett. He was tired, he’d had a headache for the last three days, and truth be told, he just needed a break. And as if it was a sign from God, he’d received a text from his girlfriend saying she was stopping by the precinct for a visit. Sonny stared at the clock on the wall watching the hands move so slowly, for a moment he was convinced the battery must have been dead. Knowing that a watched pot never boils, he made his way to the break room and replaced his ice cold coffee with a fresh cup.

“What’s got you smilin’ Carisi?” Fin teased as he held out his mug for a refill.

“My girl’s stopping by,” Sonny grinned, proud to show you off. “And she’s bringing cookies.”

“Oh word, those one’s from the Christmas party?”

“Those would be the ones.”

“It’s about time we got some good news around here,” Fin’s eyes lit up like a child in a candy store.

Sonny put the coffee pot back and returned to his desk, starting the paperwork he’d been avoiding, hoping that busy work would make the time go by faster and it did. By time he’d put his signature on the last sheet, he checked his phone for the time, noticing that you were almost twenty five minutes late. He unlocked his phone and clicked your name to call you but it went to voicemail. He wasn’t sure if it was his own impatience or genuine worry, but he began typing out a message and stared at his phone waiting for a reply.

Are you on your way? Fin’s asked about the cookies twice already.

A few minutes passed, still no reply. Sonny was never the one to double text, he didn’t want to feel like he was bothering someone, but it had now been almost 40 minutes since your intended arrival.

You’re starting to make me nervous, do I need to come over?

When his phone finally vibrated, he practically knocked over his coffee cup reaching to grab it. His brows furrowed as he read the words displayed on his screen.

Sorry I’m L8, got 2 reschedule

He read your words a few more times and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. If his instinct was wrong, he was worrying about nothing. But it only took seconds to make up his mind and he wasn’t willing to risk your safety in any circumstance. He hurried towards Olivia’s office making sure to knock a couple times before letting himself in. His red scarf was already draped around his neck and he held his tan coat in his hands. Sonny prided himself in knowing you completely, so when he had a gut feeling that something was wrong he wasn’t willing to waste any time.

“Hey, Lieu, I need an hour.”

“Right now? We’re in the middle of an investigation, Carisi.” She looked up at him through the black reading glasses that were rested on the end of her nose. He was never the kind of person to leave work for a non-emergent reason which caught Olivia’s attention.

“I know, but it’s about- it’s a personal thing.” Sonny was flustered and it showed as he ran his fingers through his perfectly styled hair, not worried in the slightest if he messed it up.

“Anything I can help with?”

“I’m not sure, (Y/N) was supposed to stop by today, but she was running late so I texted her to see where she was.”

“Well, Carisi, that’s not exactly out of the ordinary,” she crossed her arms across her chest.

“I know, but this is.” He handed her his phone allowing her to read his text messages.

“She’s never used an abbreviation in her text messages in the entire time I’ve known her. I also tried calling her and it’s going straight to voicemail.”

If it was one thing Olivia prided herself in, it was trusting her detectives completely. So she handed back the phone and nodded, Sonny’s signal that he was free to go. “Call if you need anything,” she said before he all but ran towards the exit.

“Hey babe, it’s me again. You’re making me nervous please pick up the phone.”

He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket and made his way through the door, choosing to walk rather than drive. If somehow you were still on your way to the precinct, this is the route you would’ve chose and eventually he’d cross your path. With no luck, he’d made it to your building not seeing you once. The walk hallway towards your apartment felt longer than usual and instinctively he held a hand on his gun. He counted the golden numbers on the doors until he reached yours, noticing the door of 3G was slightly ajar.

He removed his gun from the holster, using it to open your door and scanned your apartment. Flowers and milk scattered were across the floor, signalling that his suspicions were right, and he held his gun at attention. Alone in the middle of the apartment, you were duct taped to a kitchen chair. The sweat had caused your hair to stick to your face along with your grey t-shirt. Standing out, was a large crimson stain on your abdomen, which trailed downwards and formed a small puddle by your foot. You looked up when you heard the footsteps walking through the door, finding Sonny with his gun pointed towards you.

You furiously shook your head, trying to signal to him that it wasn’t safe for him to enter as the intruder in your apartment had positioned himself beside the door. Not heeding your warning, he took another step forward before Hector Beckett quietly walked behind him.

“SONNY, BEHIND YOU,” you screamed as you saw the man launch towards your boyfriend. “SONNY!”

<< Part 1 >><<Part 3>><<Part 4>> <<Continuous Version>>

Request // All Dominick ‘Sonny’ Carisi Jr. Content // Masterlist

Tag List - @miraxo-xo-supernatrual @barisi-esq @super-calithehamm @nophunleague @bitch-queen-of-sass @just-call-me-bitch

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

Note

Can you please write the events that led up to what happened with Henrik and Deathwiish in your drawing. Please?

You’ve got it. It isn’t pretty.

As far asanyone could tell, it was nothing but a headache. Signe wasn’t normally one toget them, but she had been fairly stressed lately with the pandemonium of thetour and jet lag weighing on her.

Even so,she had made an effort to keep her normal schedule. Jack was busy recording allday, so she had put on sunglasses and a hat with a low brim to shield her eyesfrom the penetrating sun as she took a taxi to Egos Incorporated. The Egosenjoyed her visits immensely and she wanted to see if their company would beable to lighten her spirits.

Unfortunately,it had exactly the opposite effect; they were immensely glad to see her, butthey were loud and boisterous. The noise grated on her ears and bounced aroundin her head, the dull, throbbing ache tightening on her skull until she finallyhollered at all of them to shut up and leaned her head forward into her hands,breathing heavily.

Jackieboywas the first to approach her, putting a hand on her back and saying nothingwhen she flinched at the touch. “You feelin’ alright?” he questioned in a soft tonethat she was sure he had practiced specifically for reassurance.

“No,” sheadmitted, cheeks flushing in frustration and shame when her voice caught. “I’vejust…got this headache.”

“Well, Henrikprobably has some medicine that could help—and I’m sure he’d let you lie downin the lab for a while,” he commented. “Chase, you wanna get her there andexplain?”

“Of course,no problem,” Chase agreed hurriedly, holding out a hand for her to take. Sherefused it, shrugging gingerly away from Jackieboy and murmuring somethingabout going herself as she skirted past the vlogger and stumbled down the hall.

As she’dexpected, Schneep was engrossed in one of his books when she arrived in thedoorway, leaning on its frame and looking him up and down. For reasons shecouldn’t quite pinpoint, the longer she stood there and waited for him tonotice her—the longer he ignored her—theworse her headache became. Emotion surged into her throat and she exhaledsharply, clenching her fists tightly at her sides to refute the random urge topry off one of her shoes and hurl it at him. If that would get his attention—

“Doctor?”she snapped tearfully, causing him to jump, the coffee mug in his other handsloshing.

“Oh, well,hello!” he exclaimed as he set the mug and book aside. “If it isn’t our—” Hiswords and smile faded as soon as he took in the look on her face. “Oh, my, youdo not look yourself! Come here, come here and let Dr. Schneeple have a look atyou.”

“I have aheadache,” she repeated as she flipped off a few of the lights and moved tomeet him halfway.

“Well, then, I will find a nice fix for you!” Schneep promised, cupping her cheekscomfortingly for a moment before directing her to sit in his desk chair.Sinking down gratefully, she watched as he began rifling toward the nearbymedicine cabinets, pulling off her hat and glasses and sliding them onto hisdesk. “Tell me your symptoms!” he called, his voice echoing in the room andmaking her skin crawl.

“A headache,” she repeated, dangerouslybordering a growl before she checked herself and took a breath. He was justtrying to help. “I—I’m sorry…I feel a little nauseous and the lights are reallybright. I think it’s just a migraine, but…”

As shestared down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap, she lost her train ofthought. One moment, there were words, the next—nothing. They didn’t stick inher throat; it was as if they dissolved, leaving behind nothing but a bittertaste and an unsettling sense of loss. Brows knitting in consternation, shesearched for whatever end of the sentence had been but the only words thatsurfaced made up an entirely different question.

“Was thiswhere it happened?”

“Hmm?”Schneep hummed distractedly as he scanned the label of a pill bottle.

Leaningback in the chair, she swiveled it further in his direction, leaning on one ofthe armrests to get a better look at him. “Where Anti took you.”

As soon asthe bottle hit the counter, it popped open and scattered pills in everydirection, forcing Signe to bite her lip and hide a snort of derisive laughter.The doctor’s hands hovered over them as if to sweep them back up but they wereshaking, unsure.

“N—No,” hemanaged haltingly. “It was in the different lab, the larger one…not here. The,ah, the ache in your head—where on the little pain scale would you rate it?”

“Now don’tchange the subject that quickly,” she scolded lightly. “You and I haven’ttalked about this before…I’m curious.” Where had that curiosity come from? shewondered in the back of her mind. She knew full well that Schneep hated talkingabout that day and to this point she had always done her best to respect that, butnow…

“Curiositykills the cat,” he muttered hastily as he began recollecting the pills in alittle pile.

“And Jack,”she added, matter-of-fact.

At that hewhirled around, eyes wide in utter shock. “What?”he stammered, clutching at the counter behind him with white knuckles. “Whywould you…? What are you…?”

“Did youget curious, Schneeplestein? Is that why you were poking around in Jack’s head?”

Schneepmouthed another incredulous question, shaking his head minutely and thenblinking hard. “I was trying to save him. It was brain surgery and I am hisdoctor; I was doing my job. W-Why are you asking this? I thought you came inhere for headache—”

“My headache’sgone,” she brushed that off, and indeed it was. The more her eyes raked overhim, taking in his nervousness and uncertainty, the more the pain mysteriously receded.Running her thumb idly over the veins in the dorsum of her opposite hand, shecommented, “I think I have a right to know. Were you just not fast enough toreach him or did you decide to take your time?”

“…Signe!”he gasped, aghast at the implication. “I would never—!”

The deskchair’s wheels clacked noisily against the linoleum, interrupting him. Thoughhis mouth was still open as if he were to continue, he didn’t try, watching heras she came around the desk to stand across from him. Jack himself had alwaysfound her hard to read, so Schneep had no chance of it; he could do nothing butwordlessly fidget. For a tense, lingering minute she remained completelyexpressionless and then she tilted her head.

“You knowyou can trust me, don’t you?” she questioned, her lips touched with a smile of all things. Schneep didn’t likethe look of it; as she approached, he felt an inexplicable urge to back upfurther against the counter. She noticed that and slowed her pace, lowering hervoice as if to coax a wary animal. “You dotrust me, Doctor, right?”

“Yes…yes. Itrust you…” he whispered, though the words fought every instinct in his body asanxiety prickled over the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. Swallowinghard, he slid sideways along the counter, ready to dodge away from her, but shecaught ahold of his sleeve and drew him closer before he could think throughwhat could have followed.

“Then you knowyou can tell me what happened.” Again, Schneep shook his head at that, pursinghis lips tightly, and she huffed ruefully. “You know, Doctor, you have verybeautiful eyes.”

He had notime to reply before she moved her hands from his sleeve to his face, tossingaside his glasses and cupping his cheeks as he had done to her mere minutesago. He stiffened and jerked at the icy burn in her touch but even as heclutched at her wrists to shove her away, his hands were seared with the sameelectric heat—and then he couldn’t let go. His fingers were soldered there, nomatter how he told them move; his mindwas thrashing and scrabbling and struggling but his body wasn’t following. Itwas as if her skin was fusing with his; the more he tried to wrench away, themore he melted into her. Any words he tried to form poured out as nothing but araspy wheeze and she chuckled sympathetically.

“Does iithurt? Well, don’t whiine about iit,” she purred, words echoing eerily in theroom and in his mind. “II could do a lot more to you, but II’m not Antii. IIwon’t put you through another niine months of torture…Your poor liittle bodycouldn’t cope wiith iit.”

Her smilewidened as she watched his pupils dilate, striking blue irises sputtering withmilky silver light that danced and spiraled on the edges of his vision. Afteranother few beats, she released him and stepped back expectantly as hestaggered, clutching at his head with both hands and panting heavily.

“What…what’ve you done?” he gasped panically, hiseyes aching, his vision painted in soft, swirling static. All the color drainedfrom his skin as inky black seeped through the veins in his cheeks, neck and fingers—itwas as if ugly, snarled roses and brambles were blooming within him. Petals andwhispers filled his head, clouded his mind, put pressure on the backs of hiseyes. Dark thorns shredded at every nerve in his body and all at once there wasa disgustingly sweet and steamy scent clinging to the back of his throat andhis lungs. He couldn’t breathe—he couldn’t breathe—

“Are yousure you’re fiit for duty today, Schneeplesteiin?” Signe’s mocking barelyregistered through the tirade of noise and silence bombarding his body. “Maybeyou should liie down.”

Before shehad even finished speaking, he crumpled, making no effort to recover or evenbreak his fall. He didn’t have the strength. The dull crack of pain as his headhit the floor barely registered; all he was aware of were the searing, sticky blacktears gracing the hollows of his cheeks as consciousness fluttered away.

“Oh, you poorthiing…” the woman over him crooned, kneeling down to admire her handiwork. “Themost tragic thiing iin the world iis a siick doctor, iisn’t iit?”

A sicklykind of delight and pity coursed through her as her own skin paled and gutteredto gray. She felt no pain as her own blood ran black nor as her eyes flickeredfrom green to keen silver. Tsking gently, she stroked a thumb over the inkyresidue slipping down his left cheek, rubbing it appreciatively between herfingers. “But iin this line of work, you’re bound to be exposed to someunsavory thiings, aren’t you? IIt’s almost as iif you have a Deathwiish.”

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #signe hansen #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #chase brody #deathwiish #corruption #whump #angst #answered ask #shadowrealm82

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duskholland · 7 years

Text

Six Nights (Stiles Stilinski imagine)

Prompt: “We live on the same floor and the dorm between ours always has REALLY loud sex so now we’re both in the main lounge at two am do you want this last bite of ice cream?” aka the college AU that grew legs and went for a walk.

Warnings: only a few minor curses

Word Count: 5k

A/N: University AUs are a favourite of mine and this prompt was too good to ignore. It was supposed to be short, but as you can see, I got a little carried away... I hope you like it! :)

(Allison is alive because fuck Jeff Davis.)

NIGHT ONE

The first night, you were woken by the sound of a headboard banging against a wall. You tried turning over and burying your head in the pillows, but the loud noise just persisted until you were left completely conscious.

Groaning, you sat up. After glancing at your phone and discovering it was only a little after 1am, you swung your legs from the bed and pulled on a large hoodie. You debated knocking on your neighbour’s apartment, but decided against it - just because you weren’t getting any, it didn’t mean you had to ruin their fun.

After slipping on a pair of shoes, you grabbed your laptop and decided to go for a little walk. As tempting as staying in bed sounded, you really didn’t want to have to listen to your neighbours having sex, and there were other things you could be doing.

The corridors were desolate, students behind each closed door, undoubtedly busy with things like sleeping or studying. Seeing as your dorm building had a communal lounge, you headed in that direction and quickly set up camp at a small table in the back corner. You dumped your laptop on the desk and made use of the drinks machine to fix yourself up with a hot chocolate before going back at your table and beginning to browse the internet.

You didn’t have a plan, per say, but reckoned your neighbour wouldn’t take more than half an hour to...finish. You would just stay in the lounge for that long, reply to a few emails, scroll through out-dated social media, relax. You’d had a busy week and having a little time to catch up online didn’t sound so bad.

As time began to slip by, you became less and less aware of those around you. The night grew darker and the lounge grew quieter, people draining out until you were almost completely alone.

Absorbed in your laptop’s luminescent screen, you gasped loudly when a photo of one of your friends getting proposed to appeared on your feed, completely unable to contain the surprised exclamation. You slammed the mug on the table, pulling out your phone and immediately going to call her. You couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to tell you - you’d known Allison for years, and she’d just, what? forgotten to inform you of her engagement? It was completely unacceptable.

“Answer, goddamnit!” You growled, glaring at your phone when it went straight to voicemail. You were beginning to construct an angry - yet supportive - text message when a voice cut through the air.

“Y’know, people don’t normally answer their phones at,” the stranger paused, presumably checking the time, “2am.”

You looked up, cheeks burning when you realised you weren’t alone. “I, uh, sorry for disturbing you.”

Eyes wandering, you took in the sight of the stranger. He was sitting a few tables away, hands curled around a mug that steamed suspiciously similarly to yours. His wide frame lay swallowed by a navy sweater, and beneath the hood, you could make out his features. Although sleepy and relaxed, you could tell that he was a very attractive man.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I wasn’t doing anything. What did your...friend do, though? Sorry that I was listening, I wasn’t trying to be weird or anything, I just-”

You cut him off with a roll of your eyes, finding his rambling slightly endearing. “My friend got engaged and forgot to tell me. It sucks because we’ve been friends for years and she just...left me out. She’s my best friend, but apparently Facebook matters more than me.” Trying not to sound bitter, you punctuated your response with a weak laugh.

The stranger gave you a sympathetic smile, sighing slightly. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.”

Returning the smile, you shook your head. “I’ll get over it.”

Not quite knowing what else to do, you glanced back at your phone and decided to polish off your text message. Your companion stayed sitting at his table for a few more minutes before getting up and walking a few paces towards you.

“D’you want another drink?”

Now closer, you were able to pick up on a few of his finer details. His eyes seemed to glow, radiating a youthful radiance that seemed out of place when compared to the lines of fatigue that traced his forehead. Long, spindly fingers held his Star Wars mug, and you grinned when you noticed the pattern on his jumper was a print of the Death Star.

“How do I know you won’t poison me?” You said, teasing slightly. He rolled his eyes, letting out a low laugh.

“I know you might not believe me, but I can assure you I’m not a murderer.”

“Yet,” you added. Nevertheless, you passed him your mug. “Hot chocolate, please.”

“Coming right up.”

He walked across the room, and you’d be lying if you said your eyes remained on your laptop. They were fixed on him, clocking each action. He walked smoothly, each movement fluent and silky. Then again, it was 2am, and everything felt ridiculously heightened.

When he returned a few minutes later, you did a good job at snapping your eyes back to your phone before he could notice the way you’d been ogling him.

“Here you go, one hot chocolate. Sorry the side is kinda messed up, I spilt a bit of the powder.” He blushed, and you noticed how nice the flush looked against his mole-scattered cheeks.

“Thank you,” you spoke, taking a quick drink before moaning with delight. “This is amazing, oh my God!”

He gave you a short bow, smiling widely. “Special recipe. I’m Stiles, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You didn’t know whether to stick out a hand or stay still, so awkwardly reached out to pat his arm. Cringing at yourself, you decided to just barrel on. “You’ll need to teach me it someday.”

“I hope I’ll get the chance.” Stiles tugged at his sleeves, stealing a quick glance at his watch before groaning. “I need to get going. I hope I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

Surprised by the empty feeling that began to spread across your stomach, you nodded. “Have a nice night, Stiles.”

And with that, he walked from the room, figure nothing more than a distant memory. In the morning, you’d actually question whether or not he was real - it was a possibility that you’d simply imagined him during your sleep-deprived state.

Stiles would soon become so much more than just a sleepy memory.

NIGHT TWO

A few weeks passed. To your great relief, your neighbour decided to ease off on the late-night aerobics which meant that you were able to get enough sleep to stay away from the student lounge.

However, it all changed one Friday night.

Around 3am, the loud exclamations of ‘harder, Dave, harder!’ shattered your sleep. Groaning, you tried to turn over and ignore the noises, but eventually, you felt weird to be eavesdropping on them so decided to drag yourself back down to the communal lounge.

When you got there, you were slightly relieved to see there was only one other person there. They had their back to you, so you made a sound of greeting to signal your arrival before collapsing onto one of the comfortable sofas, laptop falling onto your lap a few seconds later.

Adopting your normal routine, you opened Facebook and began to scroll. More engagements, a few birthdays, and-

“Here you go.” A voice, warm and friendly, interrupted your browsing, and you jerked up. The man stumbled back, clearly taken aback by your sudden movement.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Stiles,” you said the second you realised who it was. Stiles chuckled, clutching at his heart in mock surprise.

“Here I was, just trying to be nice by making you your favourite hot beverage, and you almost go and force me to spill it on myself! How rude, Y/N.” A warmth tickled your cheeks as you begrudgingly accepted the mug.

“You startled me!” You protested, patting the space on the sofa beside you. You didn’t know what it was, but you felt comfortable with Stiles. He had a sort of warm, openness surrounding him that made you feel completely at ease.

Stiles slipped beside you, and you noted that his burgundy hoodie looked particularly attractive against his skin.

“What are you up to?” He asked, pointing at your laptop’s screen. After taking a quick sip of the predictably-delicious hot chocolate, you used your cursor to select an image.

“My friend’s been visiting wedding venues all day. Keeps uploading photos onto Facebook.”

“Is this the same one that forgot to tell you about the engagement?”

Impressed, you nodded. “Good memory.”

Stiles shrugged, smiling bashfully. “I remember important things.”

Biting back a smile, you closed the images and sighed, rubbing your temples tiredly. “I haven’t even met this guy. I met her back in middle school, but she moved state when we went up to high school. She met him over there, but I’ve never been introduced him. She says he’s a good guy, but…” You trailed off, unsure of how to word your feelings.

“You never really know,” Stiles supplied. You nodded, managing a tight-lipped grin. “I’m sure he’s great. Your friend doesn’t sound like she’d make bad choices.”

“That’s true.” As you took another drink, your mind whirred at a million miles an hour - you desperately wanted to prolong the conversation. You weren’t sure what it was, but something about the man intrigued you.

“What are you studying?” You asked, looking at him curiously. Stiles’ entire face seemed to light up, amber eyes twinkling earnestly.

“Criminal justice! My dad’s the Sheriff of my town so I’ve always wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

“Sheriff, eh?”

“Yeah,” Stiles broke off, eyes shining, “he does a great job. Sometimes things get...rough back home, but he always pulls through. The guy’s my hero.”

“He sounds wonderful.”

You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to Stiles. Maybe it was the fact that it was 3am, and things always seemed easier with your mind a little sleep-deprived, or maybe you just clicked. You melted into comfortable small talk, and you soon discovered you had even more in common than you’d initially thought.

When he threw in the towel at 4.30am, eyes tired, posture sagging, he seemed sad to go. Feeling the burn of the moment, you pulled him in for a quick hug and buried your head in his shoulder to take a not-so-discreet sniff of his scent.

You knew there was nothing romantic about the moment - or any of the other moments you’d shared together - but as he disappeared from the room with a small wave, you found your heart aching.

There could be something there, and that was exciting enough to keep you awake for the rest of the night.

NIGHT THREE

“I just think it’s ridiculous! I came here to study and get a degree but I’m kept up half the night by ‘Daddy Dave’ fucking his girlfriend! My life is not supposed to be like this!” You exclaimed, angrily venting down the phone. Allison’s laughter followed so you scowled. “This isn’t funny, Alli, this is a disaster.”

From across the room, you could see Stiles holding back a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “Can you hear that much?” She asked, genuinely sounding interested.

“Oh, I can hear way too much. They’re into some serious kink, I’m telling you. In fact, tonight I think there was another person.”

Interrupting, Stiles called out, “Slutty Steve!”

Snorting, you repeated that to Allison. “Wait so there’s Daddy Dave, Daddy Dave’s girlfriend, and now Slutty Steve?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s right. Do you see what I have to put up with?”

“That’s terrible, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

When Allison called it a night a few minutes later, you asked the question that’d been rattling around your mind. “Hey Stiles,” you asked, causing him to glance up, “how do you know about Dave and Steve?”

He sighed loudly, putting down his phone. “The sex noises...this is the third time they’ve woken me up.”

“Wait, you-” you broke off, cogs whirring. “They’ve woken me up three times, too. Which apartment do you live in?”

“4B,” he answered, and you gasped.

“No way! I’m 4D!”

A look of understanding flickered across Stiles’ face, and everything seemed to fall into place. “That’s amazing.”

You hummed. “Small world, huh?”

When you separated that night, you had a new number in your phone.

NIGHT FOUR

When Daddy Dave decided to wake you up again a few weeks later, you had a new text on your phone. After wrestling with the urge to ignore the lit-up device, you reached across to your nightstand and squinted in order to read the screen.

Stiles (hot chocolate guy): do you want to come over? i have star wars and popcorn ;)

Stiles (hot chocolate guy): that winky face looked weird im so sorry i swear im not creepy

Chuckling, you responded with an affirmative answer. You spent a little too much time picking something to wear and turned up at his door with a couple of blankets a few minutes later.

After waiting for a moment, you rapped against the door and stepped back, waiting, heart racing. It felt like a turning point, to be going into his home, but you urged yourself not to think about it. Overthinking would drive you crazy, and you just wanted to focus on enjoying the night.

You heard the sound of a scuffle, then a low groan, and a moment later the door to Stiles’ apartment was being jerked open. He stumbled forwards, blinking blearily, and gave you a slightly awkward half-wave. “Hi!”

“Hey,” you responded, smiling widely. “Are you okay?” You added, slightly concerned at the edge of frantic held in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He swallowed and stepped aside, gesturing you inside, “come on in! Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t planning on having you over quite yet.” Quite yet.

You moved inside and quickly kicked off your shoes. “I brought some blankets,” you said, waving the two fluffy things in the air. Stiles reached out so you passed them over, swallowing when his fingers brushed against yours.

“I thought we could just sit on the sofa and watch films until they...decide to stop. Hopefully the sound will block them out.”

Nodding, you stepped into the main body of his apartment. “Stiles, what’s that smell?” The very distinctive scent of burnt popcorn hung heavy in the air, and you found yourself giving him a concerned look.

“Umm,” he began, sounding uncharacteristically bashful, “I might have had a little bit of an accident with my microwave before you arrived. Everything’s alright, but the popcorn is dead.”

You glanced to the kitchen area and saw a few blackened cornels littering the countertops, rolling your eyes a few moments later. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He smiled, and you quickly arranged yourself on the sofa. It was a comfortable one - plush faux-leather with a scattering of cushions - and you found yourself quickly melting into it. Stiles messed around with the DVD player after you both settled on one of the Star Wars films. When he approached the seat, you noticed a flicker of apprehension cross his face, so moved slightly to the side.

Trying to avoid over-analysing the way he sat closer to you than the free end of the couch, you took the opportunity to check the rest of your messages.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” You exclaimed a minute later, briefly forgetting you weren’t alone. You glared at your phone, a muddle of confused emotions moving through you.

“Everything alright?” Stiles asked, TV remote held in one hand.

Biting your lip, you made a sound of annoyance. “Allison - you know, my friend that’s getting married? She wants me to be her bridesmaid,” you grumbled.

“And that’s...bad?” He guessed.

“Yeah. They’re having a destination wedding and having that much responsibility just...isn’t appealing to me,” you explained. You couldn’t turn her down - you were her best friend - but you weren’t leaping for joy either.

“It won’t just be you though, right? There’s the rest of the bridal party? What about the groom?” Heart fluttering at the amount of concern he seemed to be feeling on your behalf, you nodded.

“Yeah. Apparently, Lydia - she’s one of Allison’s friends - is really good at planning, and I guess Scott probably has things covered. Huh,” you gave him a thankful look, “maybe it won’t be so bad, after all.”

Stiles fell quiet, and after you replied to Allison, you reached out to poke his arm. “Everything alright?”

Stiles put down the remote and stared at you for a few hard seconds. “Scott and Lydia. And Allison,” he stated. Furrowing your eyebrows, you nodded.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve known Allison since you were young, but when she moved away you fell out of contact,” he continued. “She’s getting married to Scott, and they’re all friends with a girl called Lydia.”

Again, you nodded.

“Oh my God!” He exclaimed, slapping his forehead. If you weren’t so confused, you would’ve found it funny. “You’re Y/N!”

“Uh, yeah, Stiles, that’s my name,” you said, watching as he seemed to be having some grand moment of realisation.

“I know you!” He said, eyes twinkling. You were about to ask him what he was talking about when he continued with, “Scott’s my best friend. I went to school with him and Lydia, and we all befriended Allison when she joined in high school! You’re her best friend.”

“You, uh, what?” You asked, puzzled. You understood what he was saying, but it seemed too coincidental to be true.

“Wait, wait,” Stiles stood and walked over to a mantlepiece, picking up a photo frame before bringing it back to you. “Us together, last day of senior year.”

You inspected the photo, gasping when you saw him with your friend. “That’s definitely Allison.” Shocked, you looked at him to find a similar look of incredulity reflected in his eyes. “This really is a small world.” Or it’s just meant to be.

Stiles nodded, sitting on the sofa once more. You shuffled up a few inches, throwing the edge of your blanket over his lap. “Now I think about it, I think I do know you. Sheriff’s son, slightly erratic, kind heart. I see it.”

“Kind heart?” He questioned, teasing you. You rolled your eyes and quickly stopped adjusting yourself when you felt his thigh press against yours. It was then that you realised just how close you were to him - legs touching, arms brushing against one another. You could feel his body heat radiating outwards, touching yours.

“Shut up,” you responded playfully.

You noticed that the activities in the apartment next door had ceased, but decided not to tell Stiles. A little selfish voice inside wanted to spend more time with him and you’d like to think that - if the way he slung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to his side was any indication - he felt the same way.

The opening of Star Wars filled the apartment a few moments later, and you melted into his warm embrace.

In the morning - after waking up in his bed, the scent of breakfast in the air - you left his apartment with a wide grin on your face. Something had shifted: there was now a new energy in your friendship(?) with him. It had something to do with the revelation that you both - sort of - knew one another, but you’d also put it down to the way you’d spent the best part of two hours snuggling on his sofa.

Whatever it was, you were more than excited to see how it turned out.

NIGHT FIVE

A couple of months passed. The wedding had crept up on everyone, and at 7pm, just a few weeks before the event, you found yourself pacing your apartment, practically ripping your hair out as you checked your phone every other minute.

A short knock on your door made you jump, and you ran to it with slightly too much energy. After pulling it open, your eyes fell first on the box, and then on the man holding it.

“God bless you, Stiles Stilinski.”

He held out the white box and you took it very carefully, working your way into your apartment with small, tender steps. “Just hang up your jacket. Everything’s ready.”

Stiles’ small voice came from the door as you slid the box onto the counter. “You really didn’t have to do this, Y/N, it was no bother. Anything for a, uh, friend.” He appeared in your kitchen a second later, scratching at his neck, and for what felt like the first time, you drank in every detail.

A big, puffy jacket rested beneath his chin, the thick material clinging tightly against his chest. You had to fight back the urge to reach out and run your fingers across his torso. His jeans fit snugly, and it took all your willpower to ensure your glance was nothing more than a flitting glance. Moving up, his cheeks held a healthy flush to them, evidence of the biting winter air outside. The red fullness of his cheeks just seemed to exacerbate the golden flecks in his eyes, and you found the yearning feeling intensifying.

“I promised I’d make you dinner in return for collecting the cake. Please, Stiles, just accept the favour.”

Smiling softly, he nodded. Your kitchen had an island counter so he slid into one of the bar stools, resting his head on his hands.

“It’s pretty good how everything worked out, huh,” he commented. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement, stirring the pot of pasta you had going on the stove. In response to Stiles picking up the wedding cake from the baker’s, you’d promised to make him dinner. Strictly platonic, of course.

“We make a good team.” Pulling the pan from the heat, you missed the look of...something that flickered across his face.

“A great team,” he corrected, causing a heat to warm your cheeks.

Ever since you’d spent the night at his, you’d grown closer to Stiles. He was now one of your closest friends, and you’d spent more time together, both under the cover of night and during the day. He’d been appointed the best man and with you as the bridesmaid, there had certainly been a lot of bonding opportunities.

Nothing had happened between you both. Movie nights featured platonic cuddling, and occasionally you’d make the other dinner as a kindness - but it was never anything more. However, you’d certainly be lying if you said a friendship was all you were after.

“Dinner is served!” You announced, finally finished spreading the sauce across the simple dish.

As you moved to sit on the barstool beside him, Stiles took a mouthful of the dish and moaned, the low sound borderline erotic. “Good?” You asked, quirking your eyebrows.

“Delicious,” he corrected, taking another bite. You had to stifle a laugh when a small bit of pasta sauce fell across his chin.

“You have a little,” you pointed at the patch and Stiles furiously wiped at his chin. “No, more to the left.”

When he missed it for the third time, you reached across and nabbed it with the pad of your thumb, fingers resting on his chin. The skin felt soft - almost too smooth to believe - and the urge to run your hands back around his head and pull him close grow overwhelming.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice completely clear. His eyes met yours, and you felt your cheeks burn when you saw a note of encouragement hiding in them.

You knew you should let go. Not only was it slightly weird that you were just sitting there - food going cold, grasping his face - but it was overstepping almost every line you’d drawn between you both. You knew you should, but you didn’t.

Instead, you moved in. Every suppressed feeling bubbled to the surface as you carefully brushed your lips against his, eyes fluttering shut as you savoured the sweet moment.

Stiles made a sound of wonder, hands gravitating towards you and hooking to your sides, warm touch sending shivers down your spine. After the initial, tentative kiss, he pushed back against your lips and deepened the second, bringing you impossibly closer as your hands finally, finally slid to have a firm hold on his hair, fingertips grasping at the soft strands.

When you finally pulled back, moments later, you looked at him through new eyes. Gone were the invisible lines, gone were all your hesitations. In front of you sat a man you were beginning to love, and by the look on his face, he was on the edge of falling, too.

“Pasta’s going cold,” you muttered, unable to contain the smile that sprung across your face. Stiles grinned, bouncing his head excitedly.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asked, fingers toying with his fork.

“What?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Aware that the meal was going cold, you nodded.

“Kiss me whenever you like.”

NIGHT SIX

As the setting sun dipped beneath the horizon, you found yourself relaxing. Your eyes followed the scattering rays as they worked across the beach, sea glinting a million shades of golds and blues. Everything around you was beautiful, and you finally felt as though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

“You did well.” Startled by his sudden appearance, you clutched your chest as Stiles approached, two cocktails held in his hand. He slid onto the beach beside you, kicking off his dress shoes and digging his toes in the side. You gratefully accepted the drink, taking a deep sip before moving to lean your head against his shoulder.

“So did you, best man,” you replied. Stiles wrapped an arm around your shoulder, squeezing your arm softly.

Allison and Scott’s wedding had been a success. They’d left the Hawaiian resort to embark on their honeymoon an hour prior, and as soon as the guests had left the venue, you’d retreated to the beach to find some solace. The entire day had been nothing short of hectic, but as it drew to a close you’d managed to find some sense of peace inside yourself.

“It was such a lovely wedding,” you spoke, tucking a hand around his side.

“They’ll stay together forever,” Stiles predicted, and you couldn’t help but agree. The love Scott and Allison showed one another was natural and unwavering. There was no doubt in your mind that they’d be together until they took their final breaths.

A silence fell over you both, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the beach providing you with a perfect calm.

“Do you ever wonder about Daddy Dave and Slutty Steve?” You asked, completely out of the blue. Stiles laughed, chest vibrating.

“Umm...Can’t say I have in a while. Why?”

“They stopped fucking. The girl’s gone too,” you mused. You sat back, losing your grip on Stiles, and took another sip of the fruity cocktail. “Makes you wonder about things.”

“Things? What things?”

Sighing, you turned to face him properly. The remains of the setting sun flickered across his figure, with his hair glowing angelically and amber flecks in his eyes enhanced. In a word, he looked even more attractive than usual.

“Life, love. Things start, things end, and that’s just the way everything goes. I just…” You broke off, words on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to say them, speak the little words that would change the course of your relationship, but you were scared to rock the boat on your already-fresh relationship.

In the distance, some children ran into the sea. You watched their parents cheering them on, and felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I want that someday. Want this,” you began, trying to pick your words carefully, “the wedding, the family, the love.”

Finishing your cocktail, you balanced the empty glass on the side of the bench and turned back to face him, taking his hands between yours. Stiles gave you a reassuring squeeze, smiling ever so slightly. “I want that all with you. And I don’t want to freak you out or anything because I know we haven’t been together long, but I just really want it someday. With you. Because I love you and I don’t know if you feel the same but-”

And then his lips were on yours. Soft, warm, tender. It lasted a brief second, but when he pulled back he left his forehead resting against yours.

“Y/N,” he said, voice heavy with emotion. “I love you too.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He gave you another swift peck. “Those things you said - the family, the love - we can do that. We will do that. Our future is so, so bright.”

Tears prickled your eyes and you distracted from the fact by going to kiss him again. Halfway through, however, you had to break off, a loud laugh destroying the moment.

“You know,” you said, voice shaking from the effort of trying not to laugh, “when people ask how we got together, we’re going to have to blame Daddy Dave. He gets all the credit.”

Stiles laughed with you, and you rested your head against his shoulder once more. “I love you,” you repeated once you’d calmed down.

With a picturesque beach ahead of you and a man who made you unbelievably happy beside you, everything had finally slotted into place. You were happy and he was happy, and in that moment, it was enough.

“I love you too,” he said.

You knew he meant it, and you also knew your love would rival that of your best friend’s. With the melodic soundtrack of the beach lulling you to rest, you let your brain switch off for a while.

You had him and he had you, and together you had the rest of your lives to build something wonderful together.

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

taglist ↠ see this post to be added :D

@fabumalum @yoinkpeter

#i can't stop writing fluff what is happening to me #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles #dylan o'brien #dylan #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #stiles imagine #teen wolf writing #dylan o'brien imagine #my writing #self insert #y/n #y/n use #honeymoonmuke writes

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petersspidey · 7 years

Text

Dear Peter

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader is a hot mess and one day peter decides to help her clean her room? And while cleaning her room she leaves to get pizza or something. And he finds multiple little letters to peter about how much she loves him but she never sends them to him? (like they are buried underneath her messy room). Lots of Fluff (and a little angst in the letters). I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK BTW I'm a huge fan!

A/N: So I loved this idea so much that I started writing it right away. And as a person with an extremely messy bedroom I am taking offence to my own words. And this is actually kinda personal to me, I'm partially including notes I wrote to someone, exactly one year ago this month, actually. Hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 2576 (Wow this Is the longest fic I've ever written)

Warnings: Nah

Masterlist

Day after day, you showed up to school late and in a clutter. Your notes were never in order, when you would open your bag, things would be falling out. You’d given up on your locker. Why bother using it if every time you opened it, something would fall on you?

You ran into chemistry five minutes after the bell, “Y/N, how nice of you to join us,” your teacher smiled.

“Sorry i’m late,” you mumbled, heading towards the back of the class where you shared a lab desk with your best friend Peter Parker.

“Let me guess why you were late today. Couldn’t find your homework in that mess of a bedroom,”

“No,” you said.

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. You’re right,” you admitted.

“That’s what I thought,”

“Apparently I threw my sweater on top of it, and a pair of pants, and maybe I kept piling things on top while I was looking for it,”

“Christ, Y/N, that’s it, I'm coming over tonight and we’re cleaning your damn bedroom,”

“My bedroom is fine, Peter,”

“Clearly, it’s not. I’m coming over, and we are cleaning,”

“Fine,”

You were certainly going to have to figure out a way out of this one. You had a few things in your bedroom that you really didn’t want Peter to find.

As promised, later that evening Peter showed up at your door.

“Peter, what if I told you that I don’t want you cleaning my bedroom,”

“I’d tell you too bad,”

Peter moved past you and walked into your home.

“Peter, come on, I really don’t want your help,”

“C’mon Y/N, you really need to get organized, you’re going to start getting detentions if you show up late many more times,”

“But what if there are things in my room that I don’t want you seeing?”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise to avert my eyes if there’s any underwear lying around,”

“Not what I meant, but I can see that you’re not giving up, so fine, enter my lair,” you said, stepping aside and allowing Peter into your bedroom.

Peter stepped inside and kind of sighed, “I forgot how messy your room was,”

“Now you know why I always study at your house,”

“And I always thought it was because of little old me,”

“Meh,”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Peter said, looking around.

There were piles of clothes on your floor, books staked on your desk chair, old homework was scattered everywhere, and half your bed was taken up by your computer, clothes, books, and even a few water bottles.

“Ok! So we’re going to start with the garbage,”

“You can’t throw me away, Parker. Not in my own house,”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Just go grab a garbage bag and we’ll get started,”

You and Peter spent what seemed like forever cleaning.

“I’m going to start on your desk while you finish sorting though your clothes,”

“Or…. You could order some food?” Peter added

You sighed, dropping the shirts you had in your hand, “Pizza okay?”

“Better than okay, I'm starved, and I most definitely don’t want to eat anything else that we’ve come across,”

“Ok, back off Peter, my room’s messy but I don’t have rotting food in here or anything,”

Peter pulled two completely squished chocolate bars off your desk and held them up in front of you, “I beg to differ,”

“I’m going to go order the pizza,” you said, flipping Peter off.

You walked out of the room and left Peter to clean off your desk.

Peter continued to clear off what he believed to be was garbage, hopefully he wasn’t throwing away anything that you may need.

There were a few pieces of paper folded up on the corner of your desk under an old coffee mug.

Peter lifted the mug, and placed it at the foot of your bed along with the other three you had found.

Peter began sorting though the papers and came across an envelope with his name on it.

Peter put the rest of the papers down and held the envelope.

I can’t open it, can I?

No.

I shouldn’t.

Peter very much so wanted to open the mysterious envelope that had his name on it.

Peter was still looking at the envelope when you walked back in.

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the envelope to you.

“You didn’t open it, did you?”

“No, of course not, I respect your privacy, I was just wondering what it was,”

You walked towards Peter, and grabbed the envelope from him.

“It’s nothing,” you lied.

“Right,” Peter said, staring at you for a moment before going back to clearing off your desk.

You and Peter cleaned in silence for the next while until the pizza arrived.

“I’ll be back,” you said, leaving the room.

When you came back, Peter was sitting on the ground of your balcony, letting his legs hang out the side through the bars.

You went out and sat down next to Peter, opening the box of pizza to offer him some.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked.

“No, why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t let you read the letters,”

“No, I understand. There are some things you want to keep private and other things you’re willing to share,”

You took a deep breath and pulled the envelope out of your pocket.

“Christ, I can’t believe I'm doing this,”

Peter watched you, waiting to see what you would do.

“Fuck. Okay. Peter, here,” you said, outstretching your hand to him, giving him the envelope.

“No, Y/N, you clearly don’t want me to read whatever’s in there,”

“Please, take it, Peter. Just, wait until you get home to read it. And, remember that I don’t want what’s in this envelope to change our friendship. You’re still my best friend and I really can’t lose you,”

“Did you confess to a murder in here or something?” Peter joked.

You rolled your eyes, “No, Parker, just, eat your pizza,”

Peter shoved the envelope into his pant pockets and the two of you went on with your evening. You finished your pizza and went back inside to finish cleaning.

It didn’t take you much longer to completely clean your room.

By 10pm your room was rid of garbage and old homework, your clothes were put away in your dresser, and all your old coffee mugs were in the dishwasher.

“I guess I better head home before Aunt May gets worried,”

“Oh, okay,”

Peter walked towards where you were sitting on your bed.

“I’ll read your letters when I get home and talk to you tomorrow,”

Peter kissed your cheek and left.

You said on your bed, heat fluttering from Peter’s kiss. You knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were too worried about how Peter was going to react to your letters.

When Peter got home, he shouted a simple hello to May and ran into his room.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, and pulled out the envelope.

He ripped it open and a handful of letters came out.

Peter opened the first one, dated just over a year previous, a few months before he had gotten his spidey powers.

Dear Peter,

First of all, fuck you.

Second of all, I can’t believe I'm writing this stupid letter.

I read somewhere that writing things down is a great way to let everything out, so that’s what I'm doing. I'm writing you a letter to tell you how I feel.

You’re my best friend. I love you with all my heart. More than you’ll ever know, really. And if you’re reading this, stop? Because never in a million years would I actually give you this to read. Quit snooping, Parker.

Regardless, I’m always wondering if I should tell you how I feel, so I guess i’ll just do it here because I am WAY too much of a chicken to tell you in person.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, am in love with you Peter Parker.

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with you. I can’t remember a time that you weren’t my entire world. Peter, If you asked, I would find a way to make a million waves in the ocean crash all at once, just to make you smile.

I still can’t believe I'm writing this down.

I really am in love with you, Peter.

Y/N.

Peter had to re-read the letter what felt like a dozen times. You were in love with him. He didn’t know what to say. He quickly pulled out the next letter. It was dated only a month after the first one.

Peter,

This is so ridiculous that I'm writing to you again. But you drive me insane! Every time I look at you I just want to run my hands through those damn curls of yours and kiss your perfect lips but I can’t. You're my best friend and I can’t.

You make me so furious. I hate looking at you knowing that I can’t kiss you or be with you, but I also can’t not look at you because i’m in love with your stupid face.

I stand by my statement of fuck you.

Y/N.

Peter looked at the dates on all the letters, they were each dated almost a month apart.

Peter,

I miss you so much, Peter. I know I see you every day, but you’ve been hanging around me and Ned after school a lot less. I love you more than I thought I would love anyone, ever, and I'm scared to lose you. It feels like I'm losing you. I wish we could run away and leave everything behind, just you and me. Please, Peter. I miss you and I'm crying and I wish we were together.

Y/N.

Peter’s heart began to ache, he had no idea you felt this way about him. The next letter was dated after he had become Spiderman and had begun his Stark internship.

Peter,

It’s not fair that everything reminds me of you. It’s not fair that while you’re off doing whatever it is you do after school, whether its the Stark internship or not, I’m lying here awake, crying, trying not to think of you but all I can do is cry over the fact that I’ve lost you. It’s not fair that I’m going to cry myself to sleep. It’s not fair that we broke. I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this pain. I haven’t done anything to deserve this much pain. It’s not fair that life is so painful. I don’t deserve this pain. I just want you back. That’s all I want. I just want you. Why does living have to be so hard? I still feel numb. After crying for three hours tonight, I haven’t felt anything. Nothing feels real. This isn’t real. I don’t know what I’m doing, how I’m living. But it’s so hard without you, Peter. It’s so hard to not have you. I went from having everything I’d ever want or need, to nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I have is the memories of the old us. And my memory is shit. Imagine how hard this is for me. I don’t even know if you’re missing me like I miss you. I don’t even know if you’re thinking about me. I hope you are. I’d like to think you are. But, then again, who knows. I barely feel like I know you anymore. You’re my entire life. I just lost my entire life.

Y/N.

Peter couldn’t stand to read anymore. He dropped the letters on his bed, and climbed out his fire escape. Peter began swinging towards your apartment. He landed on your balcony and knocked on the glass door.

You suddenly jumped up, and the sight of someone at your window. When you realized it was Peter you climbed out of bed and went to open the window for him to get in.

“Peter what are you doing here? Its almost 1am,”

Peter looked down at his watch (ok I know he doesn't wear a watch cause of his web shooters but I have this weird thing where I find it so attractive for people to wear watches like?) and checked the time. You were right. He hadn’t realized he had been reading for so long.

“I needed to see you,”

“Is something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“I read your letters, or, I read some of them. I couldn’t bring myself to finish them,"

“Oh,” you slightly pulled away from Peter.

“No! No! Not like that. I just meant, I got to the one when I had just become Spiderman and I would spent all my time out and I ignored you and Ned, just, the letter broke my heart Y/N. I didn’t know you felt this way,”

“Well, I do. You kinda broke my heart when you stopped coming around,”

“I knew you were mad at me, I just didn't realize that you were this upset,”

“I wasn't just upset Peter, i’m in love with you. I cried myself to sleep every night because I thought you hated me and that I had lost you for good,”

Peter walked towards you and gently placed a hand on your cheek.

“You could never lose me, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you,”

“Don't make promised you can’t keep, Parker,”

“Darling, I'm in love with you too, I'm not going anywhere,”

You could feel tears in your eyes, and the back of your throat felt thick (thicc). You were so mad at yourself for not telling Peter sooner.

Peter leaned in and placed a light kiss on your lips. Pulling away only for a moment before you leaned back in to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around Peter, he puled your closer to him, and moved his lips from yours, engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you telling me, I could have saved myself so many sleepless nights over you if I had only told you sooner?”

“I guess I could have saved myself some sleepless nights because of you too if I had only had the guts to tell you how I felt,”

“Do you have to go home or can you stay?” You asked.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter said, bringing you in for another kiss.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible thing that Peter found those letters.

Tag List: @tronnoristheotp, @isabellyduh, @spiderrparkerr, @lots-of-liz, @darlin-you-bitch, @a-smol-badger (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, please let me know in an ask or private message if you would like to be included in my tag list

#I'm sorry if the ending is kinda sucky and abrupt #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #petersspidey #peter parker oneshot #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom Holland fan fiction #tom #tom holland x reader #spiderman homecoming #Spiderman imagine #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction

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wonkyuna-blog · 7 years

Text

Dependence

Genre: (MATURE) Angst, Fluff, Smut, M / W, M / M

Im Changkyun x Yoo Kihyun Summary: As the resident Oncologist, the throes of life and death are beginning to weigh on Changkyun. He turns to self prescribed medication to fight off the pain of loss and losing sight of yourself. One of the nurses has invited herself to become incredibly close with him under the guise of false hope and a helping hand. Will he lose himself within his own mind or learn how to move on with his life? And, what happened to Kihyun?

Word Count: 8.6k+

Warnings: Drug abuse, Death, Drug-induced Sex, Hallucinations /// Author’s Note /// I hope you enjoy the first installment to this series!

Warm and sweet, the spring wind rolled through the window and stirred the stagnant air within Changkyun’s apartment. Everything had its own specific place to him, so in consequence it hadn’t been cleaned in months. Clothes were strewn about, coffee stained mugs sat at the dining room table as if their owners would come to reclaim them at any moment, and several different cologne bottles both empty and occupied were hidden around the living room like Easter eggs. He grew impatient sitting restlessly on the couch tapping his foot on the floor while running slender fingers through his hair. The window was hardly ever opened, but he believed some fresh air may actually do him some good and relieve some of the energy pent up in the home as well. There were memories in his head forcing themselves together, almost clawing at his consciousness begging for his attention, as though they had decided to march to their own beat. It was agonizing, all Changkyun needed was something to help him haze them out. Quiet them, relieve them, kill them... something, anything but oblige them. He scanned the living room with means to distract himself but all he could make out was ghosts from his past. With every dust particle and fabric depression left just the way it was supposed to have been. Left that way on purpose to preserve the very memories he intended so deeply to skew. Footsteps could be heard as they trod down the hallway. Suddenly the buzzing thoughts had been momentarily silenced and replaced with anticipation. Changkyun leapt in a blur from where he was as soon as the bell sounded to open the front door for Wonho.

“On time as always, but each time is beginning to feel like an eternity now. Man, am I glad to see you.” Changkyun was eyeing Wonho as he pulled a small box from the bag he carried with him. “My head becomes its own overcrowded streetcar basically with how all these thoughts are buzzing.” He continued, coming up with excuses for himself while still following the box in his gaze.

“It’s going to be like that until you decide that you don’t need these anymore you know.” Wonho shot him a concerned look before setting the box down on the table next to the sofa. “Maybe you should think about weaning yourself off ‘em? You’re one of my best friends Changkyun. I know this may not have been the best route and I know it helps your brain settle down, but you can’t keep on it forever. Eventually you're gonna have to go through the process of accepta-” Changkyun slipped him the money then gave Wonho a lingering hug; almost in a fifty/fifty bid to get him to stop talking and to deliver a sincere thank-you together in one motion.

“If I’m ever in serious trouble I know you’ll come to my rescue. Thank you.” Changkyun gave a sad smile and motioned towards the door. “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t hurry, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I gotta head off myself anyway, I don't wanna miss work myself. See ya man.” Wonho walked off with a reluctant expression glued to his face. Changkyun locked the door behind him and made a beeline for the box Wonho had left for him. He knew what this was doing to him, but it was the only thing that made the high-speed thought traffic in his mind ease off. An escape attempt, sure, but he’d come clean soon he promised himself continuously. Upon opening it Changkyun exuded a relieved sigh, grabbed the container of Ketamine pills inside and swallowed one of them. They usually didn’t come in pill form, but Wonho had put the powder inside empty placebo pills to eliminate the anxiety of needles. As a doctor, Changkyun had no issues administering medicine to his patients with needles, but he couldn’t stand thinking about using them on himself. I’m going to repay him somehow… he’s all I have left, Changkyun thought to himself. He grabbed his keys and everything he needed for the day before heading down to the parking lot and into his car.

The pills had started to kick in shortly before he arrived at the Gocheok Hospital where he worked, and started a hallucination after parking. He gave a breathy sigh, trying to stabilize himself, and looked around as the interior of the car began to bubble and twist to resemble his apartment home again. There was a bright light shining in through the open window that illuminated the entire area. It was much cleaner than before, and the sun coming through the drawn curtains invited a feeling of lazy comfort. Changkyun shifted on the couch and took a deep breath to try and remind himself that he was revisiting a memory, not reality; but the air rolled in and brought a sharp tang of a lemon and grapefruit fragrance coming from a head of bright pink hair lying in his lap.

“Please don’t go to work today.” The man hummed, slowly lifting his pout to catch Changkyun’s gaze. He playfully flashed a smile and wiggled his body trying to be cute. It was a pretty convincing display.

“You know I have to, Kihyun. Someone around here has to work anyway.” He teased. They embraced each other closely while Changkyun stroked Kihyun’s hair. The warmth of the sun tracked its way crawling over his skin, but felt nothing like the warmth that Kihyun filled his chest with.

“Hm, fine. But! You have to make it up to me when you get home. We are going to go eat, celebrate, and no excuses!” Kihyun waited for a response as he tangled their fingers together.

“I promise”, Changkyun said as he undid their knot of fingers to loop their pinkies together. Kihyun climbed up his body to kiss him deeply and Changkyun’s mind faded back to staring at the parking lot of the hospital with tears stinging his eyes. He sat in silence with his thoughts for a while before gathering himself up and headed into the building. No more distractions today. The nurses waiting at the service desk perked up as he stepped through the front doors. One of them, whose badge read “Anna”, began gathering up files and presented them to him when he walked up.

“Good morning hun! You have a couple of appointments later today that I left files waiting for you on your desk.” She fashioned the largest smile she could manage to beam at him while the nurses sitting behind her whispered and giggled. He cocked a half smile while fingering the folders she handed him and thanked her quietly, moving on towards the elevator. “Did you see?” Anna’s face was flushed as she sat back down to gossip with the rest of the nurses. As Changkyun took a step to enter the elevator he felt his heart stop as he saw a familiar face with dancing pink hair waiting for him against its walls. He immediately dropped his gaze, boarded the lift, and chose his floor destination. Kihyun stood in silence, smiling and staring at him the rest of the way. Once Changkyun finally reached his floor he stepped off continuing to ignore his presence while gripping at his chest. His heart felt as if it had combusted into a wild flame. It licked at his very lungs making it difficult to breathe.

He reached his office finally and settled into his desk while fighting back the tears welling in his eyes. Slowly he blew air out from his mouth and stared at the files set before him. Focus, Changkyun, you have to focus. With a two-ton brick resting just under his rib cage he scattered them across his desk to skim them over. All of his patients were a variety of cases, whether they suffered from malignant tumors or benign cysts. Changkyun thought back to when he was in medical school and wondered why instead of feeling satisfaction from helping others he was just constantly barraged by the presence of death. It seemed to cling to him recently, and it was beginning to hold a significant weight over him. A phone call suddenly came through and informed him that his first patient had arrived and was waiting for him in the exam room. Changkyun lingered in his thoughts a bit while heading to meet the patient, still wondering if this life was flourishing as he needed it to be. He entered the room where two men were seated inside waiting for him. “Erik?” He called out, holding an open file in both hands. The man sitting to the right gave him a weak smile and waved his hand. “A pleasure” said Changkyun, “I’ll be your oncologist. You can call me Changkyun.” He shook both their hands then took a seat at the table in front of them and flipped through his file. “Now, it looks like your biopsy came back negative and your growth is very benign.” They both gave an audible sigh of relief and grabbed each other’s hands for support. “I know how stressful it can be to hear that you have a cyst and not know what that may entail for you, so I’m happy I could deliver good news to you today. I would like to see you again for a follow up to make sure it doesn’t change, but breathe easy now.”

“Thank you so much doctor!” Changkyun nodded to them, wished them a good day, and left for his next patient gripping her folder tightly. He entered the next room and shook a woman’s hand.

“Nice to meet you Mira, I’m your oncologist, Changkyun.” She was alarmingly petite he noted.

“Thank you, doctor”. She gripped his hand tightly and wore the unmistakable mask of anxiety. Squirming in her seat and fidgeting with her hands while she seemed to be waiting for some sort of judgement to be passed onto her. Just as before, Changkyun took his seat in front of her and looked over her file. His heart plummeted. “Miss, it seems that the tumor has spread to your lymph nodes. I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this.” She sat in silence for what seemed like an age. “We can try chemotherapy if you’d like, that is an option, but it may bring you into even greater pain. Otherwise, you aren't looking at the long life that many of us are supposedly promised anymore.” Mira sat in silence with her head hung between her shoulders. He gave her the time she need to process this news until she finally looked up at Changkyun with tears streaming down her eyes and a smile full of what seemed to be hope.

“No, I think I will simply stay with my family and live out my time. My siblings need a strong person to look up to, you know? And I have to be that for them even if that means my time here is cut early. I’m... all that they have...” She sat in her thoughts for a short moment and finally nodded to confirm her final decision, trying her best not to get choked up. Changkyun hesitated, but understood the woman’s wishes and made the notes in her file.

“If you ever need to see me don’t hesitate to make an appointment. Regardless of your decision I will be here for you for any amount of pain or however uncomfortable you may feel in the coming months.” He walked over to her and handed his business card so she could reach him personally if she needed.

“Thank you for understanding.” Changkyun wished her well and stepped out of the room with a heavy heart. He couldn’t understand completely her resolution, there was no way. Wouldn’t she want to remain strong for her family by fighting, instead? Maybe she meant that she didn’t want them to see her body react to the chemo treatment since it breaks down so gradually. There was nothing he could do if she did not want to be saved, so he decided to try and put it from his mind.

In the elevator Changkyun dug in his pocket, palmed another pill, and forced it down his throat. He began to seriously question whether he could continue to put up with this anymore. The constant limbo of good news, bad news, and so forth was becoming a mental and emotional strain. He only wanted to help people but all there was to do lately was deliver death certificates. As he entered his office Changkyun was again greeted by a silent Kihyun. He was taken aback realizing who it was, then resolved to ignore him again and walk straight to his desk. He tried to shut out his piercing smile that lingered over his own face. A knock from the door resounded within the room and Anna walked in with rose colored cheeks, obviously embarrassed from barging in. “I-I’m sorry to intrude on you like this but I was wondering if you might join me for lunch? I know how busy you must be and you know it’s silly of me to asking the first pla-“

“Yes”, Changkyun interjected.

“…What?” she said, dumbfounded.

“Yes, I will join you.” Changkyun’s expression was blank as he waited for her response. He kept stealing glances towards where Kihyun was seated. If there was any way to escape this uncomfortable situation it was by entertaining the nurse who seemed admittedly smitten with him. Anna gathered herself again and replied, “Right…” Gaining confidence she continued, “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria then!” He nodded in agreement and she nearly tripped over her own feet in her excitement to get out the door. Changkyun sat in silence for a while before deciding to take two more pills then stepped out to meet with Anna. He bought himself an iced coffee and found an empty table near a window while he waited. The garden outside was bursting with new life. Emerald leaves coated the branches of trees that danced in the day’s breeze and gave homes to nesting birds. Wildflowers were pushing themselves up through the ground to feed upon the sun’s ever piercing light. It was the time of rebirth, where the death of winter was forgiven and creatures great and small began again.

“Thank you so much for sitting with me today.” Anna settled in the seat across from him carrying a sandwich and some tea. “I usually sit in here by myself when I’m not swamped with patients. It can get pretty lonely.” She pursed her lips and stared at Changkyun awaiting a response. He pulled himself from his fixation and thought on her words before replying.

“I usually eat in my office.” He held his drink close to him and let his eyes again glaze over scene he had been admiring outside.

“Ah, that only makes sense. I’m sure it’s very peaceful.” The nurse began to struggle to continue with words for the conversation considering Changkyun didn’t have much to say. He was lost in between the present and elsewhere in his mind. As he initiated the drift he began to imagine lazy smiles and sunlit rooms in the afternoon. Revisiting the vision he had in the car when he arrived that morning. A warm and fuzzy sensation crept across his face until the hum of a flat-line filled his ears and sent him into panic mode. He snapped back into a lucid state and soon realized he was standing over Anna cleaning his spilled drink. “I…I’m sorry I have to go.”

“NO!” she shouted, her face went flush with embarrassment and he stopped where he was as she continued in a softer tone “I’ll walk you to your office”. She escorted him out and back into the lift supporting him by grabbing his shoulders. Once they reached his office Anna opened the door and Changkyun sat himself down on the couch staring into space. She closed the door behind them and sat next to him, stroking the hair from his face. “What happened back there, huh? You seemed to just kind of zone out then all of a sudden stood up and dropped your drink.” He kept his attention to the floor and remained silent. “Ok, well you don’t have to tell me… but I do have something that I wanted to give to you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag with tiny blue pills inside. “I know how much you’ve been hurting lately, so I wanted to give you something to help you escape – even if for a little while. It may be a little unorthodox, but just this one time shouldn’t hurt anything, right?” He finally looked up at her; his eyes were filled with so much pain. He took a couple of the pills from her and swallowed them on the spot. “Besides”, Anna giggled, “if anything happens you are just lucky enough to have a real-life nurse at your side!”

He fell back into the couch and waited for his reality to melt away and transform into something new. After a few moments had passed Changkyun felt a slight pressure all over his body. His heartbeat raced and he began to feel extremely warm. What felt like fingers started to weave themselves through his hair in a precise and repetitive rhythm. It was so relaxing, they felt like they had become a part of him and maybe he could rest and fall asleep here. Another hand then caressed his face, every ridge of its skin he could feel resisting his own. The fingers began to trace his lips slowly before finally slipping between them. He took a breath and accepted it by taking it further into his mouth, releasing a soft moan and swirling his tongue around as it prodded in and out. A third began to glide over his stomach and chest, mapping out the crevices of his abdomen. These sensations were overwhelming; Changkyun didn’t know where to focus. Then finally, a fourth ran up his thigh where an intense weight lingered over his growing member. There were countless hands and fingers and nails sliding across every single inch of his body. Changkyun moaned heavily around the fingers fucking his mouth. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to see Anna sitting next to him simply staring at his ecstasy. Her fingers locked through his hair as she finally leaned forwards and kissed him deeply on the mouth. He felt himself melt into her as sparks of life danced across his face. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. She climbed into his lap before disconnecting their faces to leave a trail of bites along his ear, neck, and collar bone. A feint fruit-like smell wafted throughout the room as he tried to focus on what he was feeling. He felt every point of pressure magnified. Changkyun grabbed Anna's hips and bucked into her in response to her advances. If there was a kiss one place it was suddenly in a thousand other places at the same time. Changkyun couldn’t take it anymore – he began to grasp at the buttons on his pants to remove them underneath her. “I need you”, he breathed, not looking her in the eye. She stared into him for a moment as she couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Anna helped him throw off his pants and underwear and followed suit with hers as well. They were both locked in a sloppy, passionate kiss as she braced herself with his shoulders and lowered herself onto his erection. She gave a deep growl as his girth stretched and filled her cunt. He threw his head back and let out an exasperated cry at the sensation, grabbing onto her hips to dig himself deeper. Anna held Changkyun close to her chest as she grinded herself onto his dick. She dipped down and began to suck on his earlobe and leave gentle nibbles. “You’re mine now”, she whispered into his ear. She adopted quicker movements and clenched herself around his shaft, releasing quiet breaths with each down stroke. He leaned down and mouthed at her breasts, his tongue skillfully rounding her nipples. She began to push faster and harder for his release and he dug his face into her collar bone to mask his deep moans. Anna grabbed him by the sides of his throat and held him to the back of the couch as she rocked him in and out of her soaked pussy. Changkyun couldn’t take it anymore – she gave a surprised yelp as he suddenly pulled her to him by wrapping his arms under hers and held her by the shoulders so that his shaft was as deep as he could manage. He pumped himself furiously into her until there was a searing heat in the pit of his stomach like a fire he could no longer contain. “Fuck!” he grunted as he finally released his cum into her, filling her core. Changkyun clung to Anna for a short time attempting to catch his breath before falling back into the couch in a daze. She giggled and removed herself, looking back only to see him spaced completely out and breathing heavy. “Oh shit, I have to go… I’ll catch up with you later Changkyun”. She gathered her belongings and closed the door behind her.

Changkyun lingered on the couch in silence staring into space easing his breathing down before finally bursting into tears and withdrawing into himself. All he could think of in that moment was Kihyun and their quiet afternoons spent embraced with each other at home. Everything felt like him, smelled like him, tasted like him. He didn’t want anyone else.

Anna continued to coerce Changkyun to become intoxicated during their meetings and took advantage of him in an effort to gain his affection. She believed that eventually he would come around to see that he really cared for her, and what they had was unique – despite his ritualistic callouts for Kihyun during their moments of intimacy. A couple of weeks later, on the way towards his office for another of her scheduled sessions she walked by a group of gossiping orderlies. “There’s Anna! She really is such a kind soul for being there for Changkyun with what he’s been going through recently. I’ve never seen him so down, hopefully she can get him to turn himself around.” She smiled at herself because she didn’t realize that others were seeing everything she was doing for him too. Soon enough he’ll learn to move on and accept me, she thought to herself. He had been obsessed over Kihyun for far too long and it was in the past anyway, she was his future now. Anna knocked and opened the door to his office and closed the door behind her. For some reason the lights were out, so she flipped the switch and turned towards his desk. “I’m here for your check up!” She hummed, attempting to start a little game with him; but he wasn’t at his desk or anywhere in the room that she could see. She heard muffled noises coming from behind the desk. When she went to investigate her heart stopped the instant her gaze fell upon Changkyun. He was in the middle of the floor seizing and foaming at the mouth, pills scattered around his desk. “Oh my god” she whispered to herself. “I…I’m going to go get help, please don’t fall asleep.” Then ran out the door screaming for anyone to come and help. Changkyun’s convulsions slowed to a stop before finally shutting his eyes and dissolving deep into his subconscious before he was escorted to the emergency room.

After blacking out, Changkyun descended into another dreamscape of memories. He endlessly fell amongst a dark void where the silence was deafening. All he could reach out for in his mind was the desire to feel warmth. And yet here he fell for what seemed like an eternity, until finally opening his eyes where he was lying on the couch in his apartment living room – again. Kihyun was soundly resting on top of him locked in a tight embrace. As he drew a deep breath he had found the familiar scent that lingered with him all too vivid. Changkyun sat them both upwards and stared longingly into his eyes. With the most serious yet soothing voice he could muster he said, “Kihyun, I want to marry you.” With baited breath he pulled a small dark blue box from underneath the couch and revealed a black band with fire opals set into it. Kihyun’s face was paralyzed with shock and he hesitated from being unsure of the right words to say. Soon after he began to tear up and slowly nodded his head with a toothy smile holding back his tears. Before he could let out his sobs of joy Changkyun cupped his face in his hands and kissed him as deeply as possible, pulling him close. Changkyun pulled away with their foreheads still touching and in an almost sing song voice said “I love you so much, I’ve never known anyone that I could be so absolute with before. I can be myself around you and-”. Kihyun pressed his lips against Changkyun again and laughed “I love you too. You don’t have to get into an excited talking fit.”

Kihyun ran his hands fluid up Changkyun’s chest where they rested on the crook of his neck and held him there. He connected with Changkyun again, this time straddling him on the couch while they passionately kissed and melded into each other. He removed his shirt and bent down to whisper in Changkyun’s ear. “I want you like this for the rest of our lives” he giggled then began to trail light bites up and down his neck, to his ears, and kissed him deeply again. A light moan of appreciation escaped from Changkyun’s lips as his hand traveled downwards now and snaked under his pants to stroke his growing erection. Appreciation evolved to lust as Changkyun pulled Kihyun closer to return the biting, only harder and more feverish. “Mm, just like that baby” he continued to vocalize his pleasure into Kihyun’s ear while he was massaging his engorged shaft. Content with his work thus far, Kihyun began removing the rest of his clothes, pulling down his underwear and allowing his own erection to spring free. He then began to work on Changkyun’s pants, only then to bend down and take his length into his mouth. Pressing his tongue flush against the underside, Kihyun bobbed up and down the shaft and held the base with his free hand. He was massaging the rim of his own anus and moaned around the dick in his mouth. “Fuck.” Changkyun’s breathing had become raspy and labored from the stimulation and he ran his fingers through Kihyun’s hair, slightly pushing the base of his head to encourage more. Kihyun began to slow himself before finally stopping to trail kisses up Changkyun’s body. He lifted up to position himself just above his swollen cock and then with one hand keeping it steady slowly eased himself down onto it. “God, Changkyun” he groaned deeply as Changkyun entered him, letting him adjust to the size. Kihyun patiently worked into a rhythm while the two kissed each other. Their pace quickened now and he dipped down to whisper in Changkyun’s ear, “baby I want you to fuck me like it’s the last thing we do”. Changkyun groaned and slid his hands underneath Kihyun’s arms to lock onto his shoulders and then pushed him hard into his cock. “Fuck!” they both breathed and Changkyun continued pumping into him.

“Kihyun I’m close, ah” the pressure was building in his testicles he started to slow his pace as he felt about to explode but Kihyun grabbed his thigh and told him to keep going. Changkyun worked back into his former pace, obeying. He began to grunt as he could feel himself about to tip over the edge. Kihyun reached between the both of them to help relieve his own pressure when he felt Changkyun grow stiff and then incredible warmth enveloped inside him. He heard whimpers and whines as he slowly rode out Changkyun’s high until he reached his own peak and ejaculated all across Changkyun’s stomach and chest. They both lay there while trying to catch their breath in each other’s arms.

Warmth was exactly what Changkyun had felt in that moment, he closed his eyes and it crept into every corner of his being. He felt whole. Beginning to shift he opened his eyes to find a hospital bed and Anna hovering over him. She felt incredibly guilty for instigating his overdose, it was written all over her face. “I’m so sorry” she began crying to him. “I thought this would help you forget what had happened. I thought for sure once you felt better we could have a chance together.” She fought back tears and stroked his hand. “I’m sure once you’re out of this coma you’ll see just how much I care about you.”

Changkyun pulled back, and realized he was still lost in his mind wandering around in a dark hallway before coming across a door. He opened it to see Kihyun in a hospital bed like the one he had just been in and rushed towards him in an anxious fit. “Oh my god Kihyun, what happened to you? I got a call letting me know you were here and I came as quickly as I could. Are you ok?” he said, absolutely panicked. “I’m fine. I just got into a little car accident is all.” He smiled big at Changkyun to lighten his spirits. Changkyun forced a smile back but stared at his fiancé covered in bruises and cuts. Kihyun could see through his fake smile and tried reassuring him. “The car looks much worse than I do, love.” He winked at him with another huge smile and Changkyun wondered how he could be this calm. The doctor tending to Kihyun knocked at the door before stepping in. “Ah Changkyun, right on time. Don’t worry too much now, he may look banged up but we gave him some pain killers and he’ll pull through just fine. He’s going to need lots of rest though, and I know he’ll be in very capable hands when he’s cleared to leave.” Changkyun offered the doctor a smile of relief and thanked him. The attending checked all of his vitals and made notes on his files then excused himself. Changkyun went to Kihyun, grabbed his hand and gave him a tender kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be fine hun, I promise. I want you to go home and rest.” Kihyun tried relieving his stress but Changkyun argued. “No, I’m staying right here with you until you can leave. You wouldn’t be here anyway if I hadn’t gotten called to stay after my shift was up. Tonight, was supposed to be for us, remember? We’re celebrating after all” Changkyun lifted Kihyun’s hand to show him the ring he had given to him and wiggled it back and forth.

Kihyun gave a light giggle and replied, “Go home baby. I will be right here waiting to see you in the morning. We have the rest of forever to celebrate anyway you know.” Kihyun expressed a toothy wink and brought Changkyun’s hand to his face to give it a kiss. “I love you. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“I love you too, and I promise that I will be back first thing in the morning to entertain you.” “I’ll hold you to that!” Changkyun bent down and gave him a kiss on his forehead and turned out the door, nearly smacking into a nurse coming in. “Oh Anna, it’s you. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” “No worries doll, just coming in to check on our special guest is all. Go get some rest he’s in good hands” She rushed him off and closed the door behind her. Changkyun reluctantly went home that night with the equivalent of what felt like a bowling ball sitting on top of his heart. He felt responsible for the accident and was going to do his best to make it up to Kihyun in the morning.

The following day he woke up as early as possible and nervously rushed down to the hospital. A group of nurses welcomed him at the desk, including Anna, who Changkyun felt was staring holes into him, but he brushed it off and continued on his way. He reached Kihyun’s room, flowers in hand, to greet him and see how he was doing. He carefully opened the door and realized that the room was silent. He walked over to the bed and saw that Kihyun was sleeping. Changkyun walked over slowly to wake him but he just wouldn’t budge. “Damn, I know you’re a heavy sleeper but even this is weird for you hun.” As he continued to try his best to rouse his fiancé it dawned on him that his skin was ice cold. Changkyun’s heart sank and began to race all at the same time. Smashing the panic button several times on Kihyun’s bed trying to keep his breath steady but no one came to his call. “What the fuck!” He ran out of the room and called for anyone to rush to his help. “Someone please! Get a doctor! Anyone! My fiancé isn’t waking up!” Soon after, one of the attending doctors rushed in with a nurse and raced to check his vitals. “Why are these damn machines off!” yelled the doctor. They asked Changkyun to wait outside while they attempted to resuscitate him. Changkyun tried his best to remain calm as he paced back and forth in front of the room Kihyun was in. Using exercises to keep his blood pressure and heart rate down and holding back tears as best he could. There was no way he could leave just like that, he was supposed to be fine. The doctor finally opened the door after what seemed like hours and asked him to step in. “I’m so sorry Changkyun.” He swallowed hard. “It was too late to do anything for him, and we tried everything we could. It looked like he suffered from organ failure overnight possibly... due to the trauma of the accident.”

“You told me he’d make a full recovery with rest… and now… he has organ failure from trauma?” All Changkyun could do is look down. He couldn’t face Kihyun or the doctor just yet.

“I know, and I’m sorry. It must have been something we missed during his initial testing. Unfortunately, it is something that can happen even with extensive tests. We’ll leave you with him for a while. When you’re ready you can review his charts, and let us know what you decide to… do.” Changkyun could tell he was using his words carefully to not upset him further, but what more could he say? His fiancé was just pronounced dead. Dead and gone and now Changkyun felt more alone than he ever had. The doctor and nurse left the room, leaving Changkyun finally staring at a lifeless Kihyun. A husk of the constant laughter that rang through his soul every day, now deafened. He walked over to him, stroked the hair from his face and began to sob quietly. “We were supposed to grow old together. Why would you leave me like this?” A few small tear drops fell onto Kihyun’s face, frozen in time. “I can’t do this on my own Kihyun. You are my everything. What am I supposed to do without you?” Changkyun completely broke down into tears at this point and rested his head in the crook of Kihyun’s arm to muffle his sobs.

The room suddenly began to dissolve and fade. It now resembled a funeral home complete with rows of flowers and grieving loved ones. Changkyun lifted his head from his arms to see a perfectly groomed, peaceful Kihyun, no... his husk resting in his coffin. He stood and walked over to where he lay. Wet, hot tears stung Changkyun’s face. Kihyun was forever frozen in time; it was him but not all in the same. There was no laughter in his face, no love in his eyes. Changkyun laid an arrangement of flowers next to him and squeezed his arm but immediately felt sick from how stiff it was. “I love you so much Kihyun.” He choked. “And I always will. We will be together again. Just keep waiting for me, please.” He bent down and gave him a light, lingering kiss on his cold forehead.

He lifted himself and opened his eyes to see another hospital room, only he was in bed this time. Anna was sitting in the corner playing on her phone when she looked up and screamed. “Oh my god Changkyun you’re finally awake!” She scrambled over to his bedside and looked him over. “Take it easy hun, you’ve been out cold for 3 days.” “What?!” Changkyun’s heart started racing. “How much have I missed? What happened?” His head felt clearer now than it had in months and it was absolutely awful. “Changkyun, you over did it a bit with your pills and overdosed in your office. I found you convulsing on the floor and after you had calmed down you just slept for a long time. The seizure was mild enough to just knock you out for a few days. The good news is that you already ran through most of your withdrawals in your sleep, so it should be smooth sailing from here. I've been here waiting for you this whole-time and...” Anna's words blurred to incoherent noise as Changkyun realized what was going on. He was sober? No wonder he had so many dreams. He then realized exactly what he had been dreaming about, it all came rushing back to him and he burst into tears then. Everything he had worked so hard to erase or dull was now prominent on his mind. Anna became alarmed. “Changkyun what’s wrong?!” She held him close to her and stroked his back. He took deep breaths in between sobs and just lay there motionless in her arms. “I…I had dreams – no…memories…of Kihyun.” Changkyun then felt her body grow rigid and looked up at her. He found a kind of anger in her eyes he had never seen before. She quickly changed her composition as she noticed his puzzled look and tried to reassure him. “Aw, Changkyun. I know you’re still beating yourself up about what happened, even after all this time, but there was nothing you or anyone could have done. It's best just to leave it in the past you know.” “I know, but the reason it eats at me is because he was perfectly fine just hours before I had left. I could see it all so clearly-” “No use in worrying about it now hun.” She cut him off before he could go any further. “You know mistakes are made and things can be overlooked. We are all human after all, and that includes unfortunate mortality. We just don't realize how fragile we can be until it's... too late.” Anna became physically uncomfortable and kept trying to get him off the subject but it was no use. Changkyun was lucid and fresh on the thoughts thanks to his memory dip. “I’m not denying that, but all of his machines were cut off and his panic button wasn’t even working either. That’s not normal Anna.” She got chills when he said her name in that tone, so she resolved to adopt a louder voice. “Maybe they were just getting ready to release him. Let’s not talk about this anymore Changkyun it’s just going to upset you and you only just woke up. What do you say you and I go back to your place for some relaxation, huh? Get your mind off things!” She started tugging at his shirt playfully but Changkyun wanted to fight back. “Who was in his room last?” More of a demand than a question, she pushed herself off him and started to gather her things. “Hmm…” she stalled. “You know, I’m not sure.” “You were the last one in there when I left.” He was being curt now. He felt she was hiding something. “Oh yeah? I’m sure someone else could have gone in to check on him after me.” She was trying to laugh his accusations off. Changkyun stared at her now, expressionless. “You weren’t even scheduled to work that night though, I remember you texting me asking to grab a drink with you.” “They called me in, just like they called you. It was busy that night. Listen, I’m going to go get you cleared for release ok? Wait just a minute.” She shot him a smile and rushed out the door before he could protest any longer. Changkyun sat in his bed starting to put pieces together. He suddenly felt sick. Something wasn’t right, and Anna was definitely hiding something. The bottom line was that he knew now that Kihyun certainly did not die on his own, and Changkyun was going to pull the truth.

They rode home in a taxi together in painful silence. Once they reached his apartment door she stopped in front of it before going in. “I have a surprise for you!” She swung it wide open and Changkyun’s heart dropped into his stomach then exploded into a million little pieces, horrified. The apartment was completely spotless. Nothing was how he had left it. It wasn’t home anymore, at least not their home. “Ta-da! Do you like it? I came to grab you a change of clothes while you were out and noticed how filthy this place was. So, I thought I’d surprise you by cleaning it up!” She scrunched her face and looked at him like a proud puppy, though he felt she was a proud puppy that had just taken a giant shit in the floor. He looked around the living room with everything absolutely pristine. Nothing on the floor, no papers, no coffee cups, no cologne bottles. No memories left, like he really was gone now. Changkyun felt his face grow hot with rage. “Why…” He struggled to find the right words; he didn’t know whether to be mean or just plain upset. He decided he didn’t want to be nice. “Why in the fuck would you do something like that? It was like that for a reason. These were mine and Kihyun’s things. I left it just the way he did. It wasn’t your place to-” Tears were stinging his eyes at this point and Anna looked as if she didn’t quite understand. “I mean a thank you would be nice you know. I went through all that just for you. Now you can start to move on- “ “I don’t want to fucking move on. It’s been two months Anna. Two. Months. We were going to get married. He is the love of my life.” “He’s your ex though, he’s gone.” She still didn’t understand what point he could be trying to reach, and it only served to make Changkyun more furious. “He’s not my fucking ex! He’s dead, Anna! He died! Two months ago!” “Oh please” She scoffed once again. “He wasn’t right for you anyway. I saw right through the both of you. I did you a favor, you know.” He stopped cold at this silent confession. His own heartbeat went silent in his ear and he just stared at her with wild eyes. “What favor was that?” She was fidgeting but regained her confidence “I told you, he wasn’t right for you.” “And what, you are?” He yelled, hoping that was a stupid question. She recoiled a bit but stood her ground, there was no turning back now. “Yes! Holy fuck, yes! I’ve seen the way you look at me Changkyun, don’t deny it. You can't. I saw how unhappy you were all the time so I had to do something. For you…for us! Fate just so happened to be on my side that night. I went drinking without you since you stood me up and I wrecked my car, it just so happened to be him. All you cared about was him though, you didn't even respond to my messages when I told you that I had gotten into an accident.” She began to giggle. “I knew it didn’t put him off though and that he’d end up at our hospital anyway so I just showed up in my uniform. At that point I’d been given a second chance and I wasn’t going to waste it.” Changkyun stared at her with his mouth wide open. There was a fire burning inside of him and the flames licked at his fingertips as he curled his fist tight. “You murderous bitch. We’re co-workers Anna.” He tried his best to speak calmly. “If you call me being polite secret code for wanting to fuck you then you’re more insane than I originally thought.” “You’re just in denial.” She laughed. “And if I recall correctly you did fuck me! It was so easy anyway, as soon as you left the room I just injected ricin into his IV and unplugged his machines. He slipped off into his sleep.” She looked to be reminiscing as she continued her montage. “You can’t tell me those nights of passion we shared weren’t love, Changkyun. Ugh, you wanted me so badly. Your beautiful cock was so welcoming.” She raised a finger to her mouth and giggled – her attempt at being seductive to assuage the situation. "Now that this is all out of the way and you're better, you should take me right here on the couch. Oh, that'd be fun!" “You drugged me you delusional bitch.” Changkyun felt there was no reasoning with her at this point. She was too far gone. “You could have convinced anyone to fuck you at that point.” “It was the only way I knew how to get close to you, though, and I’d say it certainly worked. If it gives you any closure he tried yelling your name a few times as he slipped off. Poor thing, I would imagine gradual cell death might be pretty painful. I didn’t really think about it too much. He really did love you though, but we can all move on now that everything is aired out!”

Changkyun had reached his breaking point, and, in a fit of rage, grabbed Anna by her throat and threw her to the floor of the apartment squeezing as tightly as he could around her esophagus. She looked at him with pleading eyes, grabbing at his hands trying to claw herself free. She started kicking at him and they both fell over in the struggle. Ana tried her best to push her body upright to escape but Changkyun crawled on top of her and wrapped his hands around her throat again with even more force than before. She gasped out with tears in her eyes and bloodshot cheeks searching for any sort of air to relieve the pressure, then finally went limp. He stood over her, arms still coiled around her throat, trying to catch his breath before finally realizing what he had done and fell back.

He began to panic and hyperventilate. He had lost everything, his fiancé, his life, now he was going to lose his job and his freedom. Death seemed to follow him and pluck from his basket everything he held dear. He searched around the room for the remains of the box Wonho had given him. It was hidden underneath a lap table and he consumed every last pill inside. He didn’t know what else to do, he needed relief. If death was going to follow him he would gladly walk alongside it. He just wanted to be as numb as absolutely possible. He decided to check Anna’s pockets in case she had anything on her and of course, she did. Changkyun could only wonder how she was going to take advantage of him using this goddamn bottle. A full bottle of Ketamine pills just like the ones Wonho had given to him with instructions inside.

Do not consume more than two in a 24-hour period.

He downed the entire container and forced them down his throat, then collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. Nothing would ever be the same again, and he didn't want any part of it. Not if this was the way the world is. Not if he'd be constantly stripped of the only happiness in life he managed to grasp. His mind began to haze and he felt sharp warmth envelop him as what felt like hands gripped him tight. He stared off into space and a miasma of lemon and grapefruit seduced his senses.

Kihyun.

His entire body became paralyzed, frozen on the floor in front of the couch. He closed his eyes and couldn’t help but smile. Everything was so warm and weightless, just the way he always felt with Kihyun. Upon opening them again Kihyun himself was smiling back at him while humming a song and began to stroke Changkyun’s hair. He gave a soft chuckle and went to sit at Changkyun's side.

“Kihyun” Changkyun’s voice cracked. Kihyun kept singing while stroking his hair. His voice was soft like velvet and it was making him very sleepy. The world was so heavy now, pressing down on his whole body instead of his heart for once. Everything would be fine as long as Kihyun was with him, though. Changkyun wiped his mouth, wet with a white foam, and tried his best to keep his eyes open though they protested. How could he sleep when he finally had Kihyun back with him?

“Kihyun, I’m scared.” He whispered.

“Shh” Kihyun whispered back. He pushed the hair out of Changkyun’s face and gently stroked his arm. “I’m here for you. I always have been, and always will be.” He felt everything, he knew he was really there with him. Kihyun placed a soft kiss on Changkyun's cheek and hugged him tight.

Tears poured from Changkyun’s eyes. “I’m... s-so... sorry” He choked out. “I feel like I let you down. I… I just miss-ed you so much… and I- I didn’t know what else to do.” He tried his best to form the words he wanted to say, but his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and marshmallows.

“You have done no such thing. Just relax now.” Changkyun slowly broke into small convulsions in his limbs as his body began to shut down.

“You’re here with me now Changkyun. Everything will be ok, I promise.” His whole body was twisting itself now as Kihyun held tightly onto him. He couldn’t control it anymore. He felt himself slipping away as he lost all sense of physical being. His body didn't belong to him anymore, and it was as if it were fighting to contain Changkyun within.

“Just let go Changkyun.” Changkyun choked a laugh and began to violently seize. He pitifully twisted and writhed while Kihyun whispered sweet things into his ear still holding onto him tight until he finally went limp and one tiny sigh escaped his drenched lips.

The apartment was quiet now; Changkyun was lying lifeless in front of the living room couch when a breeze lazily swelled into the room from an open window. The sun had begun to set and it seemed the whole world stopped in this moment.

Just then, a knock from the door broke the silence. “Changkyun?” Wonho’s muffled voice echoed throughout the apartment and he knocked again. “Changkyun are you home? I’ve been trying to text you for days now and it isn’t like you not to answer. Hello?”

#mxnetwork #mxwriters #changkinet #dependence #changki angst #monsta x angst

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megsblackfirewrites · 7 years

Text

An Alpha Omega: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“How many Alphas were there?”

“Three at first; don’t know how many showed up after that.”

“How are you still alive?!”

“Luck. And one really fast hog.”

The whole common room laughed as Mako snorted. Vanessa’s head was pillowed on his lap and a covered mug of soup was held tightly in her hands. Most of her face was covered with heavy bandages and she was wearing a housecoat so that nothing held the other sutures too tightly. Mako’s big fingers scrubbed at her scalp before he leaned back on the couch.

“Don’t do that again,” he growled.

“No shit,” Vanessa snorted. “Wasn’t plannin’ on getting torn apart by a bunch-a fuckin’ Alphas! And sorry you missed yer flight, John.”

“I would rather miss my flight than attend your funeral, Birdie,” John smiled.

Jack laughed from where he was combing Mei’s hair. John was seated on one of the beanbags with a bunch of Omegas snuggled against him. His scent had become synonymous with safety and home for so many of them that no one even thought twice about crawling onto the beanbag beside him. Throw in the heroics that had passed around the school like wildfire and everyone wanted to be close to John Morrison, the Alpha that had sent an entire pack running for the hills with just a look.

“Well, I’d hate to attend my own funeral too,” Vanessa grimaced. “Wouldn’t be fun at all. Oh, and the Shimadas are back with food. Sweet.”

Jack looked up with a smile as he pushed Mei’s hairpin into place. Hanzo and Miyu were carrying a couple armfuls of bags and set them down on the coffee table. Mako helped Vanessa into a sitting position and held her still as she swayed. He waited until she flashed thumbs up before he removed his hands.

“Miso soup for the recovering pit brawler,” Miyu teased as she handed Vanessa a large bowl.

“Yah,” she grimaced. “At least we know my kidneys are working great with all the water they’ve had to process.”

She’d cracked her jaw in the fight, not enough to need a cast, but enough that it hurt to chew. She’d been on a liquid diet since she got out of the hospital a week ago. To say she was unimpressed was an understatement, especially when Miyu showed up with food for everyone else. Jack knew how much she missed having anything that still mooed when you poked it.

“It’s only for a few more weeks,” Joel soothed as he leaned on the couch. “You’ll be fine.”

“I know,” she whined before she slumped backwards. “Kinda want to sleep.”

“Alright,” Joel chuckled before he easily scooped her up. “Night, y’all.”

They waved as Vanessa snuggled against her father’s chest. She was being kept in a small room on the main floor. The school staff was trying to pass it off as a necessity so that medical aid could get to her if something happened with her health. They all knew it was so the police could get to her easier if something happened to her case.

The Alphas were being charged by the school, by the police, and by the McCree family. It was a huge case, one that the police were strangely eager to partake in. Jack wondered how many times those Alphas in particular had jumped Omegas and been able to get away with it because of the fear they instilled in the Omegas. They made a huge mistake thinking that they could attack Vanessa and get away with it.

Everyone knew the Alphas were trying to say that they were only defending the Omegas’ honour by removing a fake Omega from their numbers. They’d first tried to say that she had attacked them, but the police called their bullshit immediately so they scrambled to change their story. Someone had tipped them off that the entire building that the Alphas lived in had been part of the planning of the attack, but there was no proof to be found. Vanessa had allowed for a number of rather embarrassing and invasive tests to be done on her while she was in the hospital to prove that, as of this point in time, she was an Omega. The tests showed changing hormone levels, but they weren’t consistent with an Alpha at any stage in development.

Jack stuffed orange chicken in his mouth as everyone talked about their plans for Thanksgiving. Jack was planning on returning to Indiana, but if the trial started sooner than that, he’d have to stay put. He was going to offer as much support as he could to Vanessa and take the stand if he had to. Jamie was staying at the school, but spending most of his time with Mako. Hanzo was staying too, as were most of the international students. There just wasn’t enough time to fly home and back in the three day weekend.

Jack glanced at his watch and huffed, slowly getting to his feet. “I’m turning in,” he said.

“I’ll be right behind you,” John chuckled as he scratched behind one Omega’s ears.

Jack waved to the others before he headed for the stairs. He poked his head in on Vanessa and wished her a goodnight. Joel inclined his head from the chair beside the bed; Vanessa was already out cold, holding onto the bottom of Joel’s shirt as she tucked her nose into her pillow. He was glad that she was getting some decent sleep. She deserved it after the weeklong nightmares she’d been having.

He headed up to his room and got changed for bed. John walked in just as he was crawling into bed and walked over to flop on the bed. He didn’t even bother getting changed, just put his glasses on the bedside table and rolling onto his back. Jack smirked as he rested his back against his father’s side and closed his eyes.

Vanessa shifted nervously as the huge Alpha smiled down at her. “Ah, and you must be Ms. McCree,” he said in a booming voice. “Captain Amari, the officer in charge of your case, has requested that I accompany you to your classes since they were mostly filled with Alphas.”

“Uh, thanks?” Vanessa said as she rubbed at her neck. “It’s...appreciated.”

“You won’t even know I’m there,” the man smiled.

Vanessa gave him a flat look before she snorted. He threw his head back and laughed, a deep belly-laugh that shook his entire torso, and Vanessa found herself grinning. She gave the man’s arm a small shove-punch and hobbled past him.

“You are taking criminal psychology?” he asked as he fell into step beside her. “How is it?”

“Well, the subjects are interesting; my classmates suck,” she shrugged.

“That is unfortunate,” he sighed. “Ah, did I introduce myself? Reinhardt Wilhelm.”

“Vanessa McCree, but you already knew that,” she shrugged.

“I did, but it is still nice to hear it,” Reinhardt chuckled. “Most Omegas are intimidated by my size. Most Alphas, too. Most people are just scared of me on sight. I’m happy that you are comfortable enough in my presence to speak.”

She shrugged again as she made her way into the main atrium. Students scattered out of the way, staring at Reinhardt in awe. She did her best to ignore the stares as she headed for her class and Reinhardt ignored everything but her. He held the door open for her and trailed after her up to her usual seat in the middle of the lecture room.

He paused as the professor walked in before heading back down to shake the man’s hand. The professor looked terrified to have a behemoth like Reinhardt speaking to him, but he shot Vanessa a look.

“So the student body saw fit to have an Alpha keep her in line?” the professor asked into the microphone.

He pretended like it was an accident, waving at the stand as if that would turn it off. The class snickered and shot nasty grins in her direction. Vanessa rubbed the end of her nose with her middle finger, flipping them all off in the least subtle way possible. Reinhardt did not look amused in the slightest.

“Nein,” he growled, his voice easily carrying through the lecture hall without the aid of the microphone. “I’m Ms. McCree’s bodyguard. I’m here to make sure no one else tries to attack her to and from her classes. Seeing as how none of her professors are willing to do the job, professionals have to step in.”

The professor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as Reinhardt turned away. He walked up the steps to Vanessa’s row and squeezed his way in. He sat down beside Vanessa and dropped his head and arms onto the desk, his eyes moving slowly across the room.

Vanessa bumped her elbow against his shoulder and mouthed “thank you” when he glanced at her. He smiled and reached out to pat her hand.

“I have your back, my friend,” he soothed. “Don’t worry.”

For the first time in a very long time, Vanessa felt herself settle down against an Alpha she didn’t know. She let herself sink a little into his scent, taking in the smells and analyzing them. He was old, but he still smelt like strength and protection. If she let him, he would be her surrogate Alpha until the trial was over and done with.

She failed to see a downside.

“I can’t believe they’re actually pressing charges,” that stupid female Alpha that never shut her God-damn mouth hissed.

It was a break in the lecture, giving everyone a chance to stretch their legs or collect their thoughts. Jack nibbled on the corner of his oatmeal bar, struggling not to give into the urge to slam the woman’s head against the desk. It was all he’d heard all day. The Alphas were bitching about their “friends” being charged with aggravated assault and pack-violence and that Vanessa wasn’t getting charged with anything. The Omegas were fearfully whispering about how her decision to press charges would affect the rest of them in the long run.

No one seemed to stop and consider how Vanessa felt about the whole thing. No one seemed to care that she was still limping after the attack. No one seemed to care that she always seemed to be a second away from shifting into her wolf form and attacking any Alpha that got too close. No one cared about the victim of the whole thing and it pissed him off.

“If the stupid bitch had just kept her nose to herself, this wouldn’t have happened,” the Alpha continued. “Idiots like her should just remember their fucking pla-.”

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Jack snarled as he whipped around and rose out of his seat. “Unless you actually know what the fuck is going on, keep your two-cents to yourself.”

The Alpha gawked at him for a moment before she grinned. “Aw, is the little Omega all insulted because I’m telling the truth?” she sneered.

“You aren’t,” Jack growled. “I know more about what’s going on than you do. So shut your mouth and leave her alone. She never did a fucking thing to deserve this and the fact that fuckwads like you are content to pretend that your Alpha buddies were the victims, real criminals get away with bullshit like this all the time.”

The Alpha glanced around and the other Alphas let out soft chuckles. Jack felt himself bristling, lowering his head and preparing to lunge. They were mocking him and he was reaching the end of his rope. This was going to be the final straw.

“Oh, come on now, sweetheart,” the Alpha laughed. “What do you think she’s doing? She’s clearly not an Omega. She’s getting into fights all over campus.”

“Because douchbags like you won’t leave her and the other Omegas alone,” Jack snapped. “You all seem to think you own us even though you are all the least interesting, most infuriating people I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Someone wants that Alphas’ clit,” the Alpha laughed. “What’s the matter, sweetie? That big bitch won’t give you the time of day?”

Jack’s claws slammed into the desk and dug into the wood. The Alpha gasped and backed away as Jack shifted, his jaws trembling as he snarled at her. The other students were scrambling away, a few were pulling out their phones to record, but most wanted as much space between them as possible. The Alpha stared at him, her chest trembling as she breathed. Jack snapped his jaws, clawing the desk as his tail thumped menacingly on the desk behind him.

“You want to make something of this?” Jack growled. “Because I’ve been itching for a fight ever since those cowards tucked their tails and ran.”

“Jack, that’s enough,” Gabriel said.

It was the first time Gabriel had said anything all through the break. It startled Jack a little bit, but he snorted and ran his tongue over his jaws.

“She started it. I’ll finish it if she doesn’t actually have the spine to back up her accusations,” he growled.

“I said, that’s enough,” Gabriel growled.

His huge hand settled on Jack’s scruff and squeezed. Jack lashed out, knocking Gabriel away as he gawked at the man. Had he seriously just tried to scruff him!?

“What the fuck was that?” Jack demanded as he shifted back. “Did you just try to scruff me?”

“You weren’t calming down,” Gabriel said as he straightened up. “I thought….”

“You have no right to scruff me,” Jack snapped. “You aren’t my father and you aren’t my Alpha.”

Everyone around him gasped and Jack went ramrod straight. He stared at Gabriel as something akin to pain went through his brown eyes. Jack felt his stomach plummet to his toes before he bared his fangs and bristled.

“You thought you owned me,” he snarled. “You fucking cocksucker! What, you think because an Omega shows interest that means you can just lay claim to them?!”

“You were accepting my advances,” Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

“Your…?! Being nice to me is not making an advance! It’s being a decent human being! And scenting someone isn’t an advance either! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Your father approved of me,” Gabriel snapped.

“That’s because he didn’t know what a shitlord you actually were,” Jack snarled. He was fighting back tears; the one Alpha he thought he could start to grow affectionate for and it turned out he was as entitled as the rest of them. How typical. “Trust me, he would be disgusted with how you’re acting.”

Gabriel let out a low growl and Jack matched it. They were inches from each other’s face; it wouldn’t take much for Jack to snap his jaws shut around Gabriel’s throat and tear him apart for thinking that he owned him. And yet…he didn’t want to kill Gabriel. Maybe it was best just to walk away and give them both time to think this over.

Jack let his shoulders slump before he turned back to his desk and started packing up his things. He heard Gabriel’s aborted victory grunt before his hand settled on Jack’s shoulder. Jack easily rolled the hand off as he swung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Angie, I’ll get your notes after class,” he called out. “Not feeling so great.”

“Okay,” Angela waved at him. “Feel better, Jack!”

“Jack?” Gabriel started to follow him but Jack shot him a look.

“I need time to myself,” he said. “Have a good day, Reyes.”

He heard Gabriel stutter something after him, but he didn’t look back. He had to be firm with the Alpha if he wanted to get this figured out.

Gabriel sat at the common room table with his head in his hands. Gregory and Blaire were trying to get him to eat something, but he barely had the stomach to handle anything beyond water. Even that was coming right back up when he tried to drink.

Jack had rejected him. Jack Morrison, the man that he thought was his Omega in everything but claiming, had rejected him. All because Gabriel had tried to scruff him to keep him from getting into a fight with Blaire. Sure, he didn’t agree with what Blaire was saying at all, but he knew she was just talking out of her ass trying to get people to like her. She hadn’t been worth the air needed to tell her to shut the hell up.

And Jack had been ready to tear her throat out over his friend’s honour. It was commendable, but not worth getting in trouble over. Jack wouldn’t do Vanessa any favours by getting himself charged with assault.

“Come on, man; you need to eat something,” Gregory said. “You’ll be sick otherwise.”

“Greg’s right, Gabe,” Blaire said. “You need….”

“Why couldn’t you just keep your fucking mouth shut?” Gabriel snarled as he rounded on her. “You knew Jack was a friend of McCree’s. Why couldn’t you just wait until after class to bitch?”

Blaire stared at him before giving him a fake cowed expression. “Sorry,” she said. “But it put everything into perspective, didn’t it? Jack didn’t respect your claim on him.”

Gabriel looked away. He hadn’t lain a claim on him though, that was just it. He’d assumed that Jack was his. He’d assumed that Jack would let him be his Alpha. He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t tried to date him. He just assumed because of how much Jack loved his scent that they were on their way to being a mated pair. It was his own damn fault and now he was never going to get Jack back.

“Don’t look so glum, chum,” Gregory grinned. “I have a fool-proof plan to make your little Omega drip wet for you.”

Gabriel looked at him and frowned. “Why don’t I believe that?” he asked.

“Because you don’t believe anything anyone says that isn’t your Mama and your sisters,” Gregory rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I haven’t seen it not work once! All we gotta do is get Blaire’s Omega to sit on your lap while Jack is around and have you make out with him. Your little Omega will instantly feel jealous and come over to reclaim his Alpha from the floozy that dared to kiss him.”

Gabriel’s frown deepened. That was easily the dumbest, most juvenile plan he had ever heard in his life. Scratch that, it sounded like the dumb plot of some stupid romantic comedy that insulted its watchers by telling them that duping their Omega or Alpha was a sign of true love.

“That won’t work,” Gabriel said.

“You got a better idea?” Gregory snorted. “Trust me, man. Once Jack sees that you can easily replace him, he’ll trip over himself to get him back.”

“I really don’t…,” Gabriel sighed before he dropped his face into his hand. “What the hell. It’s worth a shot at this point.”

“That-a boy,” Gregory crowed. “Now we just gotta wait for the perfect time to strike and get that boy back in your lap.”

“He was never in my lap,” Gabriel growled as he pulled the pizza towards him and forced himself to take a bite.

“You know what I mean,” Gregory shook his head. “Operation: Get that Omega back is under way.”

Gabriel didn’t think it was a good idea, but, then again, how much worse could it get?

#reaper76 #ABO dynamics

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