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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

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Alone Together

Summary: After an awful breakup you were expecting to spend Christmas alone. You and Steve end up spending it together.

Pairings: tattoo artist!Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson sister!reader. Abusive ex boyfriend!Brock Rumlow x reader

Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122

(A/N: yay I made it! Merry Christmas guys! Reblog always 💜 ✌🏾)

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Okay yeah so it was stupid. You should have known better when you’d done it. Well, you did you just... well you don’t really know what you were thinking.

Red flags just look like flags when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, yeah fuck off you stole that from Bojack. So when you were with your ex and doing all this dumb just you thought would make him happy it ended up being kind of awful in the end.

When they finally came off you noticed the things you dealt with. Scared to piss him off so you started treating okay times like they were really good. All the stupid things he had you do to prove yourself.

You were paying for this one right now. Right in another parlor. Covering up that mistake with something you actually liked. Not that most people could see it because it was on your underboob. Said he wanted it to be this hidden thing all for him that no one else was allowed to see.

The first time he asked you’d laughed and said no thinking it was a joke. The second time you it happened you tried to be a little more firm. Except that just meant you couldn’t prove your love for him. That you were devoted. That he’d get a tattoo for you on his arm that he never had time to get for some reason.

It was so fucking dumb you know. The cursive Brock tattooed right under your boob. You could see it every time you took your shirt off and it really bothered you. It always had, but you were trying to convince yourself that you loved him before. Now you looked at it and saw the new of a person you wished you’d never even met.

Steve was your older brother’s best friend. He ran this super popular tattoo shop. They’d met in the military and the friendship just stuck. It’s kind of why you ended up moving to New York. You were kind of the outcast of the family, but Sam never treated you any different. You were his baby sister.

So after a few weeks you asked him if he could cover it up. Except his only available day was Christmas Eve. You didn’t go home anyway and Sam was going to meet his girlfriend’s parents this year. Not that you weren’t invited, but you just wanted this thing covered up. Maybe that would make you forget.

You winced as the needle dug into your skin. Not like it wasn’t worth the pain. “Hey, relax, okay,” he said, softly rubbing your arm. He’d been so much help since the breakup. It was funny. Brock hated him. Was always ranting about what an asshole he is. You could tell he didn’t like your brother either. You really didn’t know what but you knew it was something over their friend Bucky or whatever.

Yeah it was a whole thing. Not that you really knew the details.

Normally you’d spend the holidays with his family. Though a little uncomfortable it was nice being with him. So this was your first year in three that you were alone. Hanging with Steve was nice.

“I’m fine,” you were trying to keep a brave face.

He was almost done. Just had to finish up the shading. Honestly you’d been expecting him being that close to you to feel weird, but it was actually nice. It’d just be nice if you didn’t date another tattoo artist.

Yeah Brock also tattooed. He’d met Steve because they’d worked at the same shop once. You remember how Brock was seething when he found out that Steve had opened his own.

You wish you could go back in time and tell Leila to never go into that damn shop. To never ask you to go with her because she was nervous for her first tattoo. Somehow it ended up with Brock promising you a discount if you let him tattoo you if you gave him your number. Being a cliche you got a butterfly on your shoulder.

Somehow it didn’t bother you as much. Maybe because it didn’t look like anything resembling him.

“You sure? We can take a break,” he offered.

You shook your head. “No. I’m okay.” You chuckled with a smile.

He chuckled before clicking his tongue. “Alright. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“How’s your mom’s trip?” You asked. His mother had decided to vacation to Hawaii with his step-dad. Which is also why he was here. Not that he couldn’t have went with Nat and Bucky to his parent’s house. Except last time he’d done that, he ended up having to sleep next to Bucky’s incredibly touchy aunt. He was better off spending it alone.

“She’s great. Talked to her this morning.” He chuckled, “apparently she’s bringing me back a Hawaiian shirt.”

“You could pull it off.” You replied trying not to laugh too much.

“You think so?” He asked.

“Yeah just keep it unbuttoned and don’t wear a shirt under.”

He stopped to laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“I dunno. Just doing a service for the girls,” you said. “Don’t act like you don’t know that you’re cute.”

He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “Why Miss. Wilson, you’re not flirting with me are you?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No. Just... stop. You know you’re hot.”

His jaw dropped as he grin. “Now you think I’m hot?”

You sighed dramatically. “Look, Steve. I’m just joking.”

He went back to work with this kind of goofy look on his face. You couldn’t deny it. Steve is hot. Anyone with eyes could see that. Your eyes traced along his tattooed forearms. The sleeves of his flannel pushed up to elbows. Until you were distracted by his broad shoulders.

Your mind finally started to relax. Kind of enjoying the buzzing of the gun. You kind of missed that sound you loved going to the shop with a Brock while he worked.

Your only days off were weekends and since he usually had shit to do on those days, you’d be there while he worked. Sometimes even helping out when their secretary was out.

“And, done,” he said taking a deep breath and smiling down at his work before turning off the machine. “How you feelin?’” He grabbed your hand to help you to your feet.

“Well, a little sore, but good.”

You turned to look at it. Smiling at the flowers that were there now. “It’s beautiful,” you said, looking at Steve before throwing your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey,” he pulled away to rub your arms, “I got you.”

He was so close, eyes trained on your lips. So you started wondering maybe this was why Brock hated Steve. Saw how magnetic he was that he could definitely pull you in.

That couldn’t have been it, though. Brock never saw you with him alone. His dislike went much deeper than you. Today had kind of added insult to injury. Not only did you cover up that thing, but he was the one to do it. It’d be a slap in the face.

Maybe that’s why you did it. Except you’d always liked Steve’s work. You’d seen so many pieces he did or sketches he made and had wanted him to work on you for the longest. Maybe next time it would be something you didn’t need to cover up.

Your phone went off and you groaned softly pulling away. “Hey, Sam,” you greeted your brother. Of course it had to be him of all people.

Looking back over at his best friend who was cleaning up the station now. It was probably a good thing because your heart had started to thump in your chest. You didn’t need that.

You raised your shirt up so you could see it finally. “Just calling to check up on you. Steve’s lazy ass taking a break? I don’t hear buzzing in the back.”

“We just finished actually.” You laughed.

“How’d it come out?”

“Good,” you answered. “Tell Maya I said hi.”

You finished talking to Sam before finally hanging up. When you finally looked at your new tattoo, a smile grew on your face. It looked so much better than before. “Like it?” Steve asked.

“I love it,” you replied. You grabbed your bag so you could pay him.

“Um, excuse me, Miss,” he said. “Your money is no good here.”

“What? I’m not going to have you do all this work and not pay you, Stevie.”

He sighed. “Think of it as a Christmas present.”

You rolled your eyes still taking your money out. “I can’t-“

“I’m not taking it,” he pressed.

“Fine at least let me give you a tip.”

“I’m not taking that either.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes. For such a nice boy he was always so stubborn. “Fine. Then... dinner. I’ll make dinner. If we’re spending Christmas alone then it might be fun to spend it together.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah... that sounds nice.”

“Great.” You looked into his eyes again. They were like the prettiest blue ever. Especially with those little specks of green.

After a trip to the store, he escorted you back to the apartment you shared with your brother. You could have moved out, but you were kind of afraid to live alone. That’s why Sam had been a little surprised that you’d declined the invitation to go with him. It was nice to have Steve there.

You’d decorated the apartment even though you hadn’t planned to do anything. You still wanted to be a little festive. Maybe it would pull you into a better mood. It worked a little.

You quickly started on dinner. Steve helped by cutting up vegetables. He’d taken off his sweater letting his incredibly muscular tattooed arms taunt you. Okay so yeah you had a little bit of a crush on him. Like a lot of other women, you just liked to look.

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve said, taking a sip of his wine. “I don’t get home cooked meals a lot.”

“Can’t cook?” You asked with a smirk.

“Yeah I’m pretty hopeless at it.” He shrugged.

“So do you want to watch Christmas movies after this?” You asked.

He laughed. “Yeah that’d be nice.”

The night was going by kind of quick as you settled down to watch A Christmas Story. You were a little tipsy honestly, but you and Steve were sharing a fluffy blanket. Which meant he was close.

You’d carefully showered so you didn’t get your tattoo wet and changed into a sweater shirt and s pair of matching shorts. Getting all bundled up so you could curl up beside him. “You look so warm.” He chuckled as he got a little closer.

“Do you need an extra blanket?” You asked.

“No I’m okay,” he replied.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked because the thought had crossed your mind again. This time you’d finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Why don’t you and Brock like each other?” You asked.

He sighed. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to save from him. He and Bucky used to be close and I noticed him kind of spiraling. Rumlow was pumping him full of all of these drugs and I dunno I didn’t want to lose my friend.”

Your stomach started to turn. This was the first time you’d ever heard of any of this. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”

“I wanted to, but Sam said we needed to let you make your own mistakes. To not push you away. There were so many times that I thought about... look I just know that I’m never letting him hurt you again. Okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. This glazed over look in your eyes. Steve noticed and pulled you closer pretty much placing you in his lap.

“Hey, it’s okay, Honey.” He rubbed your back. Trying to at least comfort you a little.

“No I’m fine,” you replied leaning into him. The soft fabric of his jeans rubbed against your bare legs. It was nice to have him comfort you like this. “You know I think the worst thing to me is that and I’m sorry if this is too much information, but he’d use Sam against me. Say that if I didn’t do what he wanted he’d tell Sam about the things we did in bed.”

Steve sighed. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but it still felt embarrassing. He knew how secretive I was about it. None of my friends even know the kind of things I’m into.” You took a deep breath, trying to relax because you felt way more tense than you wanted to.

He chuckled. Trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. I used to be the same way until my last girlfriend put it all out there when we broke up.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah I remember that.”

“Yeah. She was something else.” He tossed his head back as he laughed. “One night she came to the shop, talking about how she’d let me tie her up one more time.”

“Brock used to say stuff like ‘come on, Babygirl, do what Daddy says or else I’ll tell your brother what you’re up to.’ It used to grate on my nerves.”

“God. What a fucking asshole,” he said, hoping you didn’t notice when he felt himself get suddenly hard at hearing you say that.

“Yeah, but I’m so glad this thing is covered.”

“Yeah. Glad I could help,” he said with smile. “Shit do you mind actually if I take a picture of it? For Instagram.”

You nodded. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He took his phone out of his pocket while you laid down across his lap, rolling your sweatshirt up so that it was exposed. “Perfect,” he said as he snapped the picture the flash making you close your eyes all tight, making you move your hand so you could rub your eye.

Making your entire breast become exposed. “Shit,” you said, pushing it back down as you sat back up. Your eyes connected to his again and that’s when he kissed you.

You didn’t hesitate to do it back. Your mouth moving against his ever so softly. Like the two of you were afraid to really do what you want, but also didn’t want to pull away. Until he finally started to deepen it.

You stroked his beard as he held onto you tightly. You came to straddle his lap as he cupped your ass. He started to lay you back.

Your phone interrupted you, making you jump away. You scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?”

“Hey. Just checking on you,” Sam’s voice came through.

“Oh. I’m fine, Sam.” You took looked over at Steve who closed his eyes and stood up.

“Is Steve with you?”

“Yeah he walked me home,” you said. “Actually I have to go I’m going to shower.”

“Okay. Text me before bed.”

“Okay.”

Steve was gathering up his things to leave by the time you got off your phone. You watched him move around. He shrugged his coat on. “I’m just gonna head out.”

“Yeah...” you pursed your lips.

He licked his lips. “I, um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me... I-“

“No. It’s okay,” you replied taking a deep breath. “I’ll walk you out.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

You watched as he walked away heading towards the elevator. You still couldn’t believe that happened. Lips tingling from the way he kissed you. Apart of you was cursing Sam from ruining your moment.

Another part of you was kind of happy that he did because as much as you hated it, Brock still had this hold over you. It wasn’t that you felt guilty. It was more like you were afraid of what would happen if he found out.

God, you wish he didn’t have this hold on you. You were starting to close the door when Steve came back. This time he didn’t stop himself as he kissed you. Or picked you up, kicking the door shut behind him. Didn’t stop himself as he carried you to your room.

He laid you down on your bed, getting on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Trying to be as close to him as possible. Fuck he felt so good on top of you.

Scratching at his muscular shoulders. He pulled your top off first. Exposing your tits. His mouth went to them as he tried to avoid your tattoo. He swirled his tongue around your nipple.

You whimpered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He’d switched to the other one to give it the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful.” He started kissing down your body so he could take off your shorts and panties. He kissed along your thighs, still looking into your eyes as he parted them.

Before he could put his mouth on your pussy, he went back up. Kissing you again. “Is this okay?” He asked resting his forehead to yours.

You nodded, reaching out so you could start undoing the buttons of his flannel. He helped you, pressing his lips to yours again. This time he put his tongue in your mouth.

Kissing him was different than Brock. Steve’s lips seemed to mold with yours better. There was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that felt like it was about to burst, but like you wanted it to. You really shouldn’t be comparing them, but Steve was making you feel so good and you were kicking yourself from having missed out on this as you wasted your time.

He pushed his shirt off his body then undid his pants. Sliding them down his legs along with his underwear. He got back on top for you, kissing your neck. Leaving little nibbles and sucking on your skin like he knew your body already. “Daddy,” you cried out, then sat up when you realized what you said opening your mouth to apologize.

“Oh yeah, Baby. You want me to be your daddy?” He asked, going back between your legs. “Want to be a dirty girl for me only?”

You nodded suddenly feeling drunk off of his words. Never did you think in a million years that Steve would be talking to you like this. He was getting you so wet just from that. He started licking your clit first.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he feasted on you. Pussy juices making a mess on his beard. “Yes,” you gasped out as he started to finger you at the same time.

That same bursting feeling in your stomach was getting intense. You cried out for him as you felt yourself reach your peek. You grabbed his hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

You took a deep breath as you tried to sit up, but he put a hand on your stomach to hold you still. “I’m not done.” He growled. “Hold still while Daddy makes you cum, Honey.”

You nodded bracing yourself as he went back to eating you out. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to another orgasm or another one after that. When he was done he kissed you, making you taste your juices on him.

As you made out again he went back to rubbing your cunt. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he said. “Gonna make you cum over and over again. Gonna take care of you.”

“Oh god yes,” you whimpered.

“Fuck I don’t have any condom,” he said, as he’d started to line himself up with your entrance.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I’m on birth control.”

He licked his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I want you so bad, Daddy.”

He grinned as he kissed you softly. “I want to know your safe word first, Honey. Just in case.”

“Strawberry.”

He kissed your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. He pushed into you as your tongues came into contact. Your tongues carassing against each other.

You stretched around him and you started to understand why he’d spent so much time eating you out. Fuck he was thick. You stretched around him looking into his eyes. “It’s okay,” he whispered into your lips. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s too much!” You cried.

“You can take it, Honey,” he kissed you again. “Be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”

He started fucking into you a little harder. You could feel yourself leaking around his dick. He’d really worked you up first even if he was still too damn thick for your pussy.

You scratched his back, biting his shoulder. He was thrusting so deep. You don’t think you’d ever been fucked this deep before. You’d definetly never been stretched open like this.

“Right there! Don’t stop!” You begged as he started fucking into your spot. “I’m fucking cumming!”

“That’s it, Honey. Cum for me.” He groaned because your pussy was so tight. Especially as you came. You were tightening around him and if he wasn’t so determined to give you a few more he would have let go inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” You cried. He didn’t let up. Fucking you through it.

“Nasty girl, squirting for me,” he said getting on his knees so he could watch you.

“Oh god!” You didn’t stop. Your pussy gushing around him. He bent your legs back with his hands on the back of your thighs. Watching his cock all slick anytime he’d pull out only to push back into you.

He chuckled as it happened again. Your eyes all clouded over as you came again just like that last time. More juices squirting out of you.

“Please,” you said, but didn’t know why.

“What do you want me to do, Baby?” He asked.

You couldn’t say anything back because you were to far gone. Thoughts had officially left your head. All you knew was him and the he was fucking you so damn good. Still pressing into your spot.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he hissed, getting back on top of you with his bicep wrapped around your thigh so he could keep you spread open. He kissed you again this time deeper. Fucking your mouth with his tongue.

You moaned into him and thrusts became to falter as he started to pump you full of his cum. He thrusted into you deep as he gave you every bit of it. Wanting to completely fill you up with him.

He laid on top of you trying to catch his breath. You were panting underneath him. Not even wanting him to move because he was so warm. You buried your head into his neck.

It took you a minute to come down from your highs. He smiled down at you, kissing you softly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You shook your head, already closing your eyes because you were so comfortable like this. “I’m great.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

You smiled lazily as he finally rolled off of you. He brought you close to him, kissing your nose again. “Stay with me.”

“There’s literally no other place I’d rather be,” he said.

You’d spent all night messing around. Taking little cat naps in between. Right now he had you on your stomach as he fucked you from behind. You never expected to spend your holiday with him, but now you couldn’t picture spending it with anyone else.

You hadn’t even thought about your ex and the meltdown he’d have if he knew about this. It was nice feeling so free. Especially as Steve’s tattooed arms wrapped around you from behind.

Hints of daylight had started to break through the slits of your curtain. He chuckled. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered into your ear as he didn’t even let up the way he was fucking into you.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Gonna spend Christmas letting me make you my girl?”

You nodded trying to peek up at him over your shoulder with a smile. “Your girl?”

“After this I’m not letting you go,” he said, kissing your cheek from behind. “We might need to make this a tradition.”

“I like the sound of that.”

#Steve Rogers smut #Chris Evans smut #steve rogers x black!reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x Wilson sister #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black women #chris evans x black!reader #Chris Evans x reader

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somedrunkpirate · 3 years

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learn the dead | Arthur/Eames

Read here on ao3 or continue below Tags: Presumed Dead, First Time, Angst with a happy ending, pining Rating: T Wordcount: 5,4k

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Everything checks out.

The hospital records, the police report, even the fucking local news because, to quote scruffy looking anchor, with a stutter no less, “There has— sn’t been an lethal acc—sident for over ten years on this s—street.”

The information is bare-bones, but that isn’t remarkable for an open and shut case like this: drunk driver meets tree trunk. Happens a thousand times a year, and will continue to happen whether you make a fuss out of it or not. Write down the licence plate, try (and fail) to inform relatives, do the paperwork and get home on time for dinner for once. Simple as pie.

Except. Except Arthur wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have driven drunk. His stick reaches too far up his ass to do something so utterly reckless in reality.

That thought is what had spurred Eames to begin his search— there had to be something, anything, that could explain the whole bullshit situation. Even if that something is a hit, covered up like an accident. Then at least Eames would have some to blame— Someone to kill.

But everything checks out.

Even that initial discrepancy. Arthur couldn’t have been drunk, but after many phone calls and bribes, Eames had learned what Arthur could have been.

He could have been high.

His last job had been an experimental trial. Not with a chemist Eames knew. An academic who had shit his pants when Eames barged in with a smile as sharp as a knife— and a knife in his hand, of course. Wouldn’t do to be less than intimidating in this case. The chemist had spluttered into a rant Eames had understood half of, so he’d called Yusuf and held the phone up without responding to the cursing at being awoken in the middle of the night. But he’d caught on quickly, started to ask questions Eames wouldn’t have thought to ask. Then more, sharper. With a hiss.

“What is he saying?” Eames had asked, after the chemist had run out of breath.

“Eames—“

The way Yusuf sounded, a sigh more than an utterance. The tone of his voice as it tried to fold in pity— badly. Yusuf was never quite made for compassion. Though the attempt had been enough to haunt Eames’ nightmares since.

“Eames. He’s dead.”

The confirmation had come without fanfare in the end. Eames didn’t even kill the chemist, after. It hadn’t been his fault that the mix Arthur had taken voluntarily turned out to suppress reflexes when tired. Not tired as they would call it— after a rush job, when exhaustion nipped at your heels. Just tired; about to drink a cup of coffee tired. Arthur probably hadn’t even felt any different until it was too late. But it had been raining, and he’d been driving for more than six hours. It was no one’s fault that Arthur had lost control over the vehicle just in front of the only tree in a three mile radius.There had been a rabbit flattened between the car and the bark. He’d probably been trying to save it.

A fucking rabbit.

Eames had hung up on Yusuf without a word. It had been the last time he’d spoken to anyone for a long time.

Except that isn’t quite true.

“Well, darling, you’ve gotten me in quite a pickle.”

The grave doesn’t respond. It never does.

— — — — —

If someone had told him that his reaction to Arthur’s death would be to stand before his grave every day for a month straight, he'd have laughed his lungs out of his chest.

It would’ve been sad, of course, to see such a talented colleague go. He might even have gone on a bender for a week— drinking away the sorrows that come with a lost acquaintance— maybe a friend. But he’d have better things to do than indulge himself for longer than that. He’d been indulging himself with Arthur for far too long, and death should have been the end to it.

Because he had been thinking about it, sometimes, when he was feeling fanciful. You would have had to be blind not to see the chemistry. The push and pull that led to delicious flirtation — as much as Arthur wanted to deny it — and even more delicious dreamsharing. They made each other better and that was honestly the only thing Eames ever looked for, when, if ever, he thought about that nebulous concept of ‘settling down’.

So yes, there would be something more to losing Arthur. Eames had known even then. It was losing that slight hint of potential. Though that is always a treacherous word.

Because he never truly believed he’d make it that far— not just with Arthur, who would’ve laughed even harder if Eames were ever to confess his vague future plans for them — but with life in general. Why plan for something that would be cut short anyway? Even if Arthur could be persuaded to make something out of the spark between them, it would’ve been cruel to do so. Eames knew himself well. He wouldn’t have stopped taking risks, stop wanting more-- craving freedom like a drug. The idea to set Arthur up for inevitable heartbreak had been enough to avoid thinking about practical steps. A fantasy was fine. Eames got paid to live in them. He didn’t get paid for reality.

So, Arthur’s death would of course be sad. But it shouldn’t have been more than another scar on his back— the punishment of the trade he chose, along with a whisper of nostalgia at losing a construct of his imagination. Even he wouldn’t have had the heart to keep the fantasy of a dead man alive for his own entertainment. A week, a few drinks, and it should’ve been over.

It shouldn’t have destroyed him.

“I just never thought I’d be the one left behind, darling,” Eames says to the wet dirt below him. It feels off to tell the headstone itself— the name is fake. Aaron Fister. Arthur had thrown a knife past his head when Eames had shown him the forged papers. To say he regrets the joke now is an understatement.

“In all fairness, it should’ve been you here, it would make more sense for you to fall in love with me, once I’m not there to bother you anymore. Absentia makes the heart go fonder, hmm?”

The dirt seems to be judging him. It’s good that some things never change.

“I know— I know it's hypocritical. I didn’t even— I didn’t even love you. It was just a game. A fun thing to theorise about when the goings got tough. Would you be as snappish if we lived together? Would you forgive me faster if I sucked you off? Would you kiss me goodbye in the airport?” Eames stops himself, and rubs a hand over his face, groaning. “It’s humiliating, darling. I should’ve just gotten off at the thought of you like half of the dreamshare community was doing. Hand on or in their whatever and imagine you moaning next to them. But I had to be pathetic about it. Though this is reaching new heights, I must say.”

He leaves, abruptly sick of himself. He comes back the next day, as always.

Some days, though, Eames doesn’t devolve into confessions that make the little old ladies passing by their lost friend’s grave raise their eyebrows and linger by a random grave to listen anyway.

Some days, Eames is angry.

The first time, he breaks his toe in the process.

“You bloody cunt!” He’s aware that he’s shouting, but he doesn’t stop. “Never experiment alone! Isn’t that what you fucking say to the newbies? You need someone to be a baseline. Someone who can bring you home safe. You fuck. Why didn’t you call me. Why didn’t you fucking—“

Kicking the gravestone had not been his best idea, but the pain of it brings a rush of satisfaction. There is— so much, inside of him. Eames is drowning in it, and the throb in his feet cuts right through it. Clarity. He kicks again.

“You fucking bastard.”

The old ladies have gone from curious to concerned now. Eames hobbles away, hissing, before he gets a restraining order on a grave.

The next day he’s back, a bottle of whiskey in hand, and finds himself apologising.

“I know— I never made it quite clear that you could call me, for stuff like that. That I would pick up. Maybe I wouldn’t have. Or no, I would have, but I might not have bothered for that. The jobs— I knew how to handle you on the job. But outside of that. I don’t think I would’ve had the courage. I wouldn’t think that way then, of course. Convince myself that I’m above errand runs like that. Throw you a bone recommending some up and coming kid I knew or something— intern type, for all that we have those here. But I don’t think I would’ve come. So it isn’t your fault. You made a mistake, not getting back-up, but it isn’t your fault. You didn’t know you had any. And I didn’t dare to believe I could be yours. That you would let me. That it wouldn’t end in disaster.”

Eames leans against the cold stone and sighs. “’Suppose it has, already. Would’ve been too good to have it end any other way.”

— — — — —

When Eames isn’t in a graveyard, or in a bar, he’s in the warehouse.

It had felt too… personal, to get a hotel room for this. To do his research in a living room, as opposed to the dreary, dusty and echoey spaces where most of their professional relationship had flourished. It’s too big for a one-man job, but Eames had managed to fill it up anyway. Boxes upon boxes of information, any trace of Arthur he could find. Every email, record, police report, college paper— printed and archived. Eames can find his way through the documents blind and drunk. Arthur has taken over every nook and cranny of the warehouse— and every nook and cranny of Eames’ mind. Eames has read everything, twice over.

If Arthur had been alive to know, he would’ve killed him.

Because Arthur had always been a private person, for all that he pries in the lives of clients and collaborators both. He was the one who asked the questions and rarely answered them. It had always been a luxury— a rare reward, to be thrown a scrap of information. He’d always said something with that slight subtle smile, like he knew the power his breadcrumbs of personal life held over others. Everyone ravenous for more intel on one of the greatest pointmen of their generation.

How horrible is it then to revel in the mountains of information that Eames had been able to gather after his death. He’d always known he’d had enough pull to find something, and after the inception job he’d had more than enough cash to buy the rest. But he’d never done it; at first because of the wrath that would quickly follow. Then because he’d known it would tarnish Arthur’s trust in him— something he’d wanted to protect at all costs. And then lastly — but maybe from the start — because it was so much more thrilling to learn bit by bit, piece by piece. To earn his knowledge of Arthur, and to ensure that his curiosity would never run out. He’d become slightly addicted to the feeling.

But now, with no one left to tell, it had only taken the excuse of the suspicious circumstances of his death for Eames to turn into the hoarder he’d always known he could be. It had gotten to a point where new packages arrived every so often— criminals even beyond dreamshare having caught wind of an individual willing to invest heavily on any information. Someone had even hacked the pentagon to get classified documents. From the message on the box, the hacker thought they were helping a spy of some kind. Eames had sent him enough bitcoin to blow wind in the direction of that particular fire hearth of urban legend. He’d rather have people think there is a whole network of people digging into this, than anyone realising it’s in truth only one pathetic man.

So Eames drinks. Eames talks to a grave. And Eames reads. It only takes him two boxes until Arthur makes him laugh for the first time since the car crash. It was due to a spirited essay on the importance of open source information that was clearly written to spite the professor leading the course, who’d been forced to give it an A+ regardless. Eames had chuckled, imagining the self-righteous satisfaction of this young Arthur as he got his grade back, and then began crying. Not to grieve the loss of a future he hadn’t realised how much he wanted, as is his wont, these days. But from the unfairness of it all. That a person like this, who had so much to say in this world, should’ve been taken so early, and in such a meaningless way.

Arthur would’ve denied it, but Eames knows he’d only be content with a death from sacrifice . He’d shown that side of him clearly when he jumped into Cobb’s mess headfirst and without hesitation. If Arthur had died from a bullet taken for Cobb, Ariadne, or maybe even Eames, he would’ve been at peace— or as much as you can while bleeding out.

Eames had known that, but as he learns more and more of Arthur, he realises how true it is. How, despite everything, Arthur cannot stop himself from being a silent hero. There are so many instances where Arthur, behind the screens, helps someone. Whether it was connecting the right people to each other under the mum of a potential project, or taking jobs way below his pay grade because he sympathised with the client, Arthur did not let their line of work destroy the possibility to be kind, every once in a while.

It’s not like he advertised it. He didn’t do it in a way people would recognize his actions— which was smart, as it could be seen as a weakness in their circles. But whenever the chance came along, even if it was to his own detriment, Arthur chose the rough road home if it would ease someone else’s way.

And this, Eames realises, is the secret to his competency. All other pointmen are expert researchers through and through, but no one had the reach Arthur had. Arthur knew everything, and if he didn’t know, he knew someone who knew— and most importantly, someone who would tell him. Eames doesn’t even know if Arthur ever realised that it was his kindesses, in and out the community, which led him into such a position of power. His actions are too random and inconsistent to be a strategic scheme to build an empire. Some of his biggest successes are results of a nicety five or ten years ago, something that he might have forgotten doing, but the people receiving it definitely haven’t.

On the surface Arthur had been known as cool and effective— someone with a distance to the rest of the world that resulted in a highly detailed overview of any situation, even if it brought a side of professionalism to even the most informal of interactions. The people who witnessed a more casual side of him were few and far in between, but even those came away with the impression that to Arthur, doing the job in the best way possible was the only drive to his actions.

No one had seen every little thing he did that had no other reason at all besides that he could do them for someone.

Eames maps out everything on the walls of the warehouse. And when he stands back to take it all in, he realises that more than anyone, the person Arthur had silently helped was him.

Everything he’d done for Cobb had been grand and obvious, but more out of loyalty to Mal and her children than kindness without any other motivation. And Ariadne’s training had been as much for the inception job than for herself— maybe introducing her to the life hadn’t been a kindness at all. Continuing after could be seen as one, even if you could argue that her honing her raw talent would directly result in better and more stable dreams in later jobs.

But Eames— what Arthur had done for Eames—

Eames can’t think of a single reason besides just being plain nice.

Because it hadn’t been like he needed to. Eames had made him very clear that he’d be down for almost any job Arthur put in front of him. Just him being himself had always been enough, he didn’t need to do him any favours to persuade him like everyone else did.

And maybe Arthur had gotten the memo, because he’d done Eames favours without ever telling him, and those you can’t pay back. Eames had no idea the reason he got out of that trouble in Chicago was because Arthur bailed him out— it was presented to him as a procedure mistake. And then there was the Telula job, with an extractor-architect team Eames had wanted to work with for ages, but the chemist they’d been looking to hire was someone from Eames’ not so smooth first years of dream-share and he’d almost cut out of the job to not be forced to confront that past. That was until the chemist suddenly dropped out with an offer he couldn’t refuse— an offer Arthur had been behind.

There were so many things like that. Little things, small things— warehouses next to Eames’ favourite restaurants; nuggets of information given anonymously through the channels of dreamshare gossip to hit Eames’ ears right on time before a betrayal; a job a week delayed because of Eames’ mother’s funeral.

It’s not like Eames had been the only one, but he was by far the most frequent of all of them. More and more so over the years, like Arthur had been finding more reasons to be nice to him, while Eames had still been stuck in his pathetic imaginations, blind to what was already in front of him.

A friendship.

He’d been so preoccupied with his own flights of fancy, that he only realises how close they had been all this time until it was too late to experience it. Too late to thank Arthur for everything he’s done.

The agony of it— the longing. His heart thundering with the sudden need to have Arthur in his arms, alive and real and—

“Oh god. I love him.”

Eames drinks until he can’t remember. He manages to avoid the grave for a little while, but he doesn’t last long. Inevitably he’s pulled back to the grave yard, whiskey in hand, ready to talk to the love he lost again.

— — — — —

His cemetery routine— because he has one of those now — is usually to be at the grave around noon. Late enough to roll out of bed reasonably comfortably after a long night of drinking and/or reading, but early enough for there to be time left to check the new documents coming along and pay the right people before they send thugs to his hideout.

But this time the afternoon light shines golden over the rows and rows of headstones and Eames shivers in the Autumn breeze. The old ladies are all dressed in fur coats. He recognizes some of them, and wonders if they noticed he was gone. None of them greet him as he passes, so he assumes not.

Eames takes another sip of his bottle, allowing his feet to lead him over the familiar path up the hill, and then he drops his bottle all together.

A man is standing before the grave.

Tall, hunched a little in the wind. Long coat and thick black beanie. Nondescript. Anonymous.

He does not turn as Eames nears.

“You’re late.”

Eames’ hand is on his gun at the first syllable, but before he can put it on his temple a leather gloved hand snatches it from his fingers. The clip ejects with a decisive click.

Arthur gives him an unimpressed look. “Don’t be dramatic. We don’t need a scene.”

His face— a little gaunt. His eyes— tense, intent, darker than they should be. Eames doesn’t recognize the coat. But he’s there, pressed in close to hide the gun between their bodies. His breath— warm, hits Eames’ cheek. It isn’t— It can’t. He can’t be breathing because he’s—

Eames squeezes his eyes shut and thinks of metal against the palm of his hand, the smell of gunpowder.

A sigh falls between them. “It won’t work. This isn’t a dream, Eames.”

The hell it isn’t. “Experimental somacin, three levels.”

Raised eyebrows shouldn’t be audible only through speech. “Do you remember how you got here?”

Eames opens his eyes and says, “Deep immersion dream.”

Arthur huffs at that. “Do you really think they’ve been keeping you under for years? Fine. When have you last lost memories?”

Oh, that’s easy. “Two days ago.”

There is a pause, and Eames hates the fact that he can see the exact moment of tension in Arthur’s jaw that signals him suppressing a question. It’s too detailed, too precise, too re—

“Later,” Arthur murmurs under his breath, almost to himself. Like later is a given between them. He seems frustrated. His eyes keep flicking to the side and his hand hovers near Eames’ arm, like he’s trying to keep himself from hurrying Eames along and is annoyed that Eames is stalling them.

“I’m sorry darling,’” Eames drawls, “but in case it has escaped your notice: we are having this discussion on your fucking grave, so forgive me for being reasonably sceptical about the reality of this situation.”

Arthur breathes out a deep sigh, clenched teeth. “Eames, think about it, is there any forger you know capable of forging me in a way you can’t see through it? Or for that matter, is there anyone who would dare to try steal from the fucking person who invented the craft?”

No. The answer is no. It hits Eames with a muffled weight. He wonders what his face is doing, but whatever it is, Arthur responds to it with a curt nod. It suddenly strikes Eames as absurdly hilarious, in the way only the most traumatic experiences can.

“You know, complimenting me really doesn’t help with the reality argument. Never mind doing it twice. Death changed you, darling.”

Arthur stills in the middle of putting the clip back in Eames’ gun. There is the slightest flicker of his lips, and he huffs. “Maybe it did— can I trust you not to shoot yourself the moment I hand this back?”

“Come on now Arthur,” Eames says, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

And there— there it is. Arthur rolls his eyes as he presses the gun into Eames’ waiting hands, and a part of Eames’ breaks with it. Still muffled, still numb, but something is lumbering closer. He can almost hear its laboured breaths.

“There you are,” Eames says, smiling. “You don’t know how much I missed that.”

It is a miracle he doesn’t choke on the words.

“Glad to be remembered for something,” Arthur is saying, and now he’s pushing Eames— gently but with intent, away from the grave. “And I’d like to keep it that way, so we need to talk before your insatiable curiosity ruins everything I worked for.”

Eames doesn’t know if it's the words, or the press of Arthur’s hand against his back— barely sensable beneath all the layers but even the slightest hint of pressure sets him alight— but all at once everything falls into place.

“You faked your death.”

“Have you always been this slow on the uptake?”

Eames barely hears him. Reality is roaring and there is space for nothing else. Arthur isn’t dead. Arthur isn’t dead. They’re standing on Arthur’s grave— an empty grave. A lie. A trick. He’s been fooled because Arthur isn’t dead, he’s right here. He’s touching him because he isn’t—

Arthur isn’t. He isn’t.

He’s alive.

Eames doesn’t say anything the rest of the way to wherever. If Arthur speaks, he doesn’t strain to listen. Because Arthur isn’t dead and if he hears anything at all he’s either going to scream or kick the shit out of him just like he did on that stupid fucking grave— just to check that this one isn’t made of stone but flesh and blood and he is alive.

His fists hurt from clenching by the time they enter a hotel room. Something of the turmoil must have reached Arthur because he’s gone quiet. The roar lets off the very moment the door clicks closed and Arthur stands before it, uncertain, almost as if he regrets closing off his only exit. His expression is one Eames knows very well— preparing himself for a fight he saw coming too late. But he isn’t reaching for his gun. He just stands there.

He’s just waiting to take it.

Eames kisses him.

He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s—

A heartbeat feels more real when it’s underneath your lips. A pulse against a jaw— up, up to feel breath against breath. To hear the rush of it— a hitch of— of surprise.

Strength— dead people don’t have strength and Arthur is pushing him so he can’t be dead.

“Eames—“

Alive, alive, alive.

“Eames! Wait!”

Eames pushes closer. He places his forehead against Arthur’s, presses them both against the door. Arthur isn’t pushing him away anymore but his hands are still on his chest. Eames wonders if he can feel the beat of his heart. He hopes, quietly insane for a moment, that Arthur will never forget to make his heart beat as long as he is feeling one. As long as he’s given an example on how to live.

“Eames,” Arthur says. A word, a question, a name. All in one. His eyes are wide. Breathing heavy— breathing, breathing, breathing— and he’s flushed. Sharp cheekbones stained red. Lips wet.

Eames’ hands move of their own accord and cradle each side of Arthur’s face.

“Let me, darling. Just let me.”

Arthur breathes again.

Eames trembles, trying to hold himself back. Trying to breathe. But one more moment and he will collapse and he can’t— he can’t risk it. He can’t risk losing another chance. He needs this as much as he needs Arthur to be alive. He needs to stop regretting not having done this when he could and now he can again and how can he let this undeserved second chance slip through his fingers. He has to. Please. He has to.

Arthur’s mouth falls open. “Eames. Eames, it’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to beg. It’s okay.”

“Let me, Arthur,” Eames repeats, “Let me.”

Arthur lets him.

Arthur lets him do everything.

— — — — —

It’s after when Arthur whispers, “I didn’t know.”

His head is on Eames chest, moving ever so slightly when he breathes. In and out. Eames has his fingers tangled in his hair. The strands slip away when Arthur turns around to look up at him.

“I didn’t know,” he says again. There is a rasp in his voice and his eyes are wet. Eames has never been apologised to like this before. Arthur sounds as if he believes sorry would be an insult, the word too small to encompass his regret. There is guilt there, in the flush of his cheeks, and the way he can’t seem to hold eye contact. His pupils flickering, microscopic twitches of shame.

Sometimes he’d dream of this. Arthur’s return. A fantasy, a different one, yet still addictive like a drug. He’d expected to be angry, to want to spill his pain onto Arthur’s feet and watch him try and walk through it; burn in it. A stimulation of the magmatic life Eames has been living since his death.

But now, face to face with an Arthur who is alive, Eames doesn’t want any of it.

So he leans down, and kisses Arthur on the forehead, like a benediction, trying to extract the regret from his face. And he tells him, honest in a way he’s learned to be in the last scant weeks, “I didn’t either, darling.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but there is something about his misery that is easily pushed to the side for curiosity.

Eames smiles at him and continues. “You were— you were a fantasy. A what if. Something amusing to think of when I was bored, or something life saving to dive into when reality drew a knife and stabbed me with it— literally, sometimes. But it was always a fantasy. An escape. It— it couldn’t have become real, if you’d given it a chance back then.” Eames takes a breath, shakes his head.

Arthur reaches up with a hand, frowning, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“But the trouble is, darling, it is incredibly hard not to fall in love with you the more I learn about you.” Eames smiles under his finger tips. “That is what changed. You never let me learn you. But who is to stop anyone from learning the dead?”

Something flickers over Arthur’s face— guilt, again, but different. “I didn’t know you wanted to learn about me— I thought you only gave a fuck about what I could be for you.”

Eames lays his hand over Arthur’s. “You’re right. I was blind— too blinded by the possibilities and too selfish to do anything about it. Maybe I needed to lose you in order to learn how to see .”

“No— No I should’ve,” Arthur shakes his head sharply. “I should have told you. There would’ve been another way without— How long have you been drinking?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to darling.”

“Eames.”

Arthur takes his hand off and moves off of Eames’ chest, sitting up straight. Eames follows him, struck by a sudden vision of Arthur slipping out of bed— out of his life, dogged by misplaced guilt and regret. He curls his hands around Arthur’s wrists, as gently as he can. Don’t trap him. Don’t chase him away.

“No. It’s fine. We’re fine,” Eames hurries to say. “Why would you tell me? I was a colleague at best, bane of your existence at worst. I had— I have no right—“

“I should have told you because I did know you,” Arthur interrupts him. “I was supposed to know. You said possibilities? I am supposed to be the one who sees them— all of them. I’m the one who has to prepare for all scenarios, know the players, do the research and put the pieces together. That is what I do, Eames. And I missed something.” Arthur takes a shuddering breath, looking forlorn and tired. “I’m so sorry for missing the most important part.”

“You can’t apologise for missing something that wasn’t even really there yet.”

“Yes, I can. I’m sorry for missing our potential. For underestimating us. Underestimating you.” Arthur laughs. “I’m so fucking stupid. I thought you kept searching for me out of— curiosity. Or that I fucked up, left a trail somewhere and you wanted to prove to me that you found it, you figured it out. Fuck. I never thought it was because you missed me.”

“I did,” Eames says, and it almost chokes him. “Every day.”

Arthur looks at him then, eyes flicking to the side, his hair covering half of his face, but his smile is visible. “You know, I did too. That’s why I knew you were looking for me. Kept tabs on you, even though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.”

Eames swallows at the sight— at the hope it instills in him. Arthur let him, yes. It could have been a kindness. But this smile, shy and bashful, and the words that follow it. Maybe potential comes in twos. “I didn’t keep looking because I missed you,” Eames tells him, because he has no time for secrets anymore, no time for regret, for either of them. “I kept looking because I couldn’t accept it. I couldn’t bear it. Darling.” Eames slips his hands from Arthur’s wrists and puts them on either side of Arthur’s face instead, bracketing the smile. “You’re my future. You couldn’t be dead.”

“I’m not,” Arthur tells him, like a confession of his own. “I’m not dead, Eames.”

“Good.” Eames pulls him in closer, and Arthur lets him. He lets him trace the smile with his thumbs, lets him breathe close against his mouth and whisper, “Next time darling, when decide to you kill yourself. Kill me too.”

The grin that blooms doesn’t fit between Eames’ fingers, so he kisses Arthur instead. Deep, possessive. Loving. Arthur lets him, and he never stops.

#arthur/eames #fanfiction #fanfic #inception #inception fic #inception fic rec #arthur/eames fic #dreamhusbands #dreamhusbands fic #im back to writing?#honestly from all the wips and ideas that i have #no clue why this one ended up being the first #but i like how it turned out

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todorokibois · 4 years

Text

Treat You Better - Shoto Todoroki X Reader

Song Fic - Based off of Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes (Which I normally would link but Tumblr’s being Shittyblr again and won’t show up in the tags if there’s a link 🙃)

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Shoto X Reader ft. Touya Todoroki (aka Dabi)

Words: 1,384

A/n: On this blog we love and support the Todoroki boys. Dabi is Touya, fite mii :) Anyways, my first post on this blog, just something I thought up today as I was listening to this song. Let me know what you think, I hope you all enjoy!

P.S. You can find more of my writing for K-Pop over on @mint-yooxgi

There are three things Shoto knows now.

One, the moment he learned that you started dating his brother, a part of him had felt like it had died inside; A feeling of emptiness filled him. A feeling of longing that he couldn’t quite explain at first, no matter how hard he tried.

Two, he’s positive his brother doesn’t actually care about you.

At first, maybe he did, given how happy the two of you looked together. However, as of late, he’s just not so sure. There have been too many times he’s come back home to hear your muffled sobs echoing through the walls, his brother nowhere to be found. He’s always the one who ends up going to comfort you for his brother’s mistakes.

And three, he is completely, and utterly, in love with you.

He doesn’t know how, or when, it happened exactly, but he remembers the night he realized it like it was yesterday. Oh wait, it was.

You had come back home shortly after nine in the evening, causing his head to dart up from the article he had been reading on his laptop. He found it strange that Touya wasn’t with you, considering the three of you live together in a shared apartment, but given the circumstances as of late, he wasn’t that surprised.

“I thought the two of you were going out for dinner?” He asks, brow furrowing in slight confusion.

You let out a sad sigh, “I had thought so, too.”

“What happened?” His voice is soft as he shuts the laptop, noticing how you kick off your shoes dejectedly.

“I-“ your breath hitches slightly, “I don’t know.”

Concern is written all over his features as he stands up and walks over to you, whom has not moved from your spot in the entranceway. You look at your feet, refusing to meet his gaze as he guides you to sit down on the couch. He can feel his heart physically pang in his chest as he watches the first of your tears slide down your cheek.

“We were supposed to go out for dinner tonight,” you manage to get out, and he nods, waiting for you to continue. “Since our anniversary is coming up al all.” Of course, how could he forget. “We agreed not to do anything too fancy, just a quiet dinner at our favourite restaurant. I waited two hours for him to show up. Two hours-“ you choke on a sob, “did he even care at all?”

Shoto doesn’t know how to answer you, because he’s not too sure himself. All he can do is grit his teeth in frustration at his brother for treating you like this, yet again. He decides wrapping you in his arms is a start, and pulls you into his chest for comfort, letting you sob, and get it all out of your system.

“That’s not even the worst part,” you admit, and you don’t register his hand gripping your shirt tighter. “Remember how my birthday was last week?”

“Of course,” he says, having a feeling he already knows where this is going, “how could I forget?”

You scoff, pulling away so you can wipe your eyes briefly, “well, apparently Dabi can.”

Shoto’s eyes widen slightly. You only ever use his brother’s nickname when you’re really upset. Although, he definitely doesn’t blame you. He always knew his brother was an asshole, but forgetting your birthday?

That’s not even the best part. Besides not getting you a gift, and only giving you a half-assed apology, there have been other instances where Touya hasn’t been treating you like he should. Or at least, as well as Shoto knows you should be treated. How he would treat you, if only given the chance. He would give you the world, and everything in it, if you asked him to.

By now, this entire situation is getting ridiculous to him. The more he listens to you rant about the neglect his brother has been giving you recently, the more upset he gets for you. So much so, that by the time you’ve finished talking, his jaw hurts from clenching it so hard in anger.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” slips out before he can even process the words leaving his lips.

This causes you to laugh slightly, “yeah, tell him that.”

“Then why do you still stay with him?” He frowns. “You deserve better.”

“I know,” you sigh, your tears having stopped momentarily as you avoid his gaze, “but you have to understand, I love him, Shoto.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever a felt pain in his chest like this before as he hears you utter those words. A pain that starts from inside his heart and radiates outwards, spreading like a wildfire as it suffocates him from the inside out.

He wants to scream. To yell at his brother for treating you this way. To tell you that he’s right here, and that he will always be right here for you. You’re everything to him, but he’s too late. You’re not his, you’re his brother’s. He stays silent, a torrent of emotions swirling in his eyes.

The both of you are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. You can hear your name being called faintly from the entranceway, so you quickly wipe away the rest of your tears and stand up. You notice the concerned glance Shoto sends your way, so you opt to send him a small reassuring smile in return. You’ll be okay, or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“I’m here,” you call back, heading over to greet Touya as he walks in.

“I’m so sorry, babe, we got held up at work tonight,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and staring into your eyes. “I tried to call you, but you weren’t answering your phone.”

Sure enough, you had turned it off after leaving the restaurant, not wanting to be disturbed on your way home. You nod your head in understanding, and Shoto knows you’re too understanding for your own good.

“It’s alright,” you say, faking a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“That I am,” Touya hums, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead. “How about we go out for lunch tomorrow instead? I know it won’t make up for tonight, but I have the day off.”

“Okay,” you nod your agreement, before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and heading off to your room for the night. After the evening you’ve had, you’re exhausted, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep.

The whole time, you fail to notice Shoto now visibly shaking with anger, now standing just in front of the couch, but his brother does. A smirk crosses Touya’s face as he sees his little brother fuming, brow quirking in amusement.

“What’s the matter, Shoto?” He hums, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leans against the wall.

“Nothing,” Shoto hisses, hands balling into fists at his sides. How you can so easily forgive his brother for how he’s been treating you makes his blood boil. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Well, if that’s all,” Touya says, pushing off of the wall and heading in the same direction you went off in down the hall. “Goodnight, Shoto.”

Shoto watches his brother disappear down the hallway, jaw clenched in frustration. The fire burning in his eyes slowly dies out as he sits back down on the couch, head now resting in his hands as he lets out a sigh.

He loves you, and he wants you. He wants to know what it’s like to hold your hand, to see you smile just for him. He wants to know how it would feel to kiss you, to wake up beside you every morning with a smile on both of your faces. To be able to hold you when you cry, and celebrate your successes. To take you out to dinner and not have you wait two hours for him, and him having to apologize with some half-assed excuse later that evening.

He loves you, he knows that now, but it looks like his brother does, too.

#bnha x reader #bnha scenario #bnha scenarios #bnha x you #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki shoto fluff #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto x you #bnha imagines #my hero imagines #my hero academy fanfiction #mha x you #mha x reader #angst #bnha angst

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 4 years

Text

Azula x female reader series: Part 4

Azula hatches a plan to keep you closer to home than Ozai intended and disrupts her friends lives in the process. Initially happy with her plan as time goes on Azula grows more and more frustrated at what it means for the two of you.

Part One here

Part Two here

Part Three here

Part Five here

Part Six here

Tagged: @saucy-sapphic @justastranger-passing @azulasprincess @888-rising

@sighsam

-----

Your POV

You were stood in the dining room watching as the royal family and Mai ate their dinner in uncomfortable silence. Your last few hours as Azula’s maid would end tonight and you wondered when Azula would announce who she had assigned you to. As if reading you mind Azula put her cutlery down and sat up "Ive made my decision father". Your breath caught even though you knew this had been coming. You thought back to the conversation you’d had with Azula after you’d accepted her offer to share her bed when she told you her plan and your part in. You understood the reasoning behind who Azula wanted to assign you to but it didn’t make it any easier.

Ozai looked towards Azula with a small frown, probably annoyed she would bring this up when guests like Mai were present, even though Mai was hardly a guest by now. "What decision?" Zuko asked but his father ignored him looking to Azula "Very well...close to the dealine too". You saw Zuko and Mai look at Ozai confused and several of the servants too risked a confused glance with one another. You knew Azula would need you to act like you hadn’t planned this so too put on a mask of open confusion and stared at Azula with the others. Azula ignored Ozai’s snarky comment and smiled aware the whole room was watching "although y/n’s skills are not needed by me I can think of someone who needs it, Zuko". You felt the atmosiphere in the room turn and you pretended to look at Azula shocked. Azula smirked at Zuko who looked as shocked as you, he stared at Azula and then looked to Mai. You followed his eye and couldn’t see any change in Mai’s face but never could anyway. "What..why?"? Zuko asked. "Father said i could choose who to send y/n to and I choose you brother, lets face it you need the most help being kept up to standard and y/n’s one of the best so y/n is your new maid". Zuko glanced to where you stood behind Azula and then to his father as if seeing if this would be allowed, women maids were not often allowed to serve male masters so closely and when they did it was always surrounded by rumours and gossip. Ozai didn’t really seem to care he just sighed "don’t argue Zuko, Azula recommends her, your sister is helping you". Zuko went to argue and Ozai slammed his fists down "I will not waste time arguing over the help at my own dinner table” he yelled glaring at Zuko “y/n is your maid now, fire her if you care that much". You could tell by Zuko’s reaction he would not be doing that, he lowered his head in defeat and Azula smiled catching your eye. Her plan to have you spy on Zuko was now in motion.

As soon as it was possible to be dismissed Zuko and Mai stood to leave and reluctantly you stood up too. Mai glared openly as you followed but Zuko ignored you. You looked back to Azula aware this could be the last time you’d see her for a while as her and Zuko largely avoided each other. Azula looked down as you left and you just wished she’d look back up. You’d do as she asked and spy on Zuko but you couldn’t get the night you’d spent together out of your head or deny how it made you feel. You’d told yourself Azula had given you this mission because it gave her an assoication with you, a reason to keep in contact with you, because she cared...but as you walked out of the room she didn’t even look up. This deal was just buisness that’s all.

You followed Mai and Zuko a respectful distance away. They headed towards the royal wing before stopping near the exit for Mai’s house. You hung back so she and zuko could say goodnight and lowered your eyes blending in like you’d been taught. Mai turned and walked towards you glaring right at you, she barged your shoulder as she passed and disappeared out of the palace. You righted yourself and followed Zuko. He reached his room and allowed you inside after him but was clearly uncomfortable. The door closed and he looked at you and then away again unsure what to say or do. He kept going to speak and then stopping so you took over "Prince Zuko shall i help you prepare for the night?". Zuko coughed blushing "Well I can do that myself". “It’s my job” you told him "I am your maid now”. Zuko rolled his eyes “thanks to Azula, this is all part of her plan to screw with me I know it”. You didn’t react or comment on Zuko’s speculation you just stared at him. “Still that’s not your fault” Zuko shrugged and you looked away. Silence fell again and you hated the tension so tried to make it less awkward “Shall I do what I usually do and tell me if there’s anything you wish to change?". Zuko nodded and you readied the room as you would any room and then turned to him. "Is there anything else you require Prince Zuko?". He shook his head looking at his room "no thank you y/n you are dismissed". You bowed "goodnight Prince Zuko I will return in the morning" and left the room.

Azula's POV

It had been 3 days since Azula had assigned you to Zuko on your mission and four more days before the date you’d agreed to meet to discuss what you had found but Azula was growing impatient. Azula had felt uneasy since you’d left with Zuko and she hadn’t seen you since, it was as if her brother was hiding you, she thought bitterly. Azula had thought assigning you to Zuko was a clever plan, she trusted you and now had a spy in her brother own staff who would report on anything and everything she wanted. It was a good plan so why did she feel so restless? Azula pretended maybe it was because after having you serve on her for years you were gone and it was just the change in scenery that disturbed her but she knew it wasn’t, it was specifically because you were gone. In the deepest parts of her mind Azula acknowledged a care or fondness for you but Azula figured all she felt for you came from physical attraction. Sure you’d been nice and kind to her but Azula had felt an attraction to you long before she trusted you so it must just be a physical fondness. Azula had been aware of her growing want and attraction of you that’s why she gave you the offer to share her bed on your last night. She thought one night with you would satisfy her curiosity and solve all her problems surrounding you. She figured afterwards, her thoughts and ideas finally fulfilled, she’d send you on your mission and no longer think about or admire you, the fun chase of the unknown would be over and so she’d no longer have a want or need of you. She had it all planned and it should have worked but why didn’t it? Why did she still want you around?

"Azula!" Ozai snapped and she jumped "what? Im listening"? "You weren’t!” Ozai spat and Azula gulped. She’d been thinking about you again for what felt like the 100th time today but this time in the middle of Ozai’s war meeting. The fact she hadn’t been able to think of anything apart from you since you’d left her company drove Azula crazy, how could it be physical if even after spending an amazing night with you Azula still wanted more?

The door opened saving Azula from another rant from Ozai who noticed her staring off again as Zuko came into the room. "Sorry I’m late" he said bowing and Azula shot up in her seat as if zapped by lightning. You were there behind Zuko, head down eyes low like you’d been taught but Azula desperately wanted you to look up, to look at her. But instead you followed Zuko and came to stand at the back of the room with the other servants. Azula felt a twinge of anger as you stood obediently near Zuko and not near her as you used to, just another reminder you were his now and not hers. Azula knew this was her own fault, she'd assigned you to Zuko and failed to see this potential problem but Azula never admitted when she was wrong and she wasn’t going to start now. Her plan to have you spy on Zuko gave her a good advantage and besides she could hardly undo it now, she’d just have to see it through and endure the anger she felt seeing you follow Zuko around. She just had to remind herself no matter who you “served” you were still hers, you still reported to her! You were still working for her, zuko was just a cover nothing more. Azula told herself this and found it brought her some comfort and appeased her anger. Azula glanced to where you stood and an idea formed in her head. She would come see you tonight, your meeting wasn’t due yet but so what? She was in charge, if she wanted to push the date forward she could. This way she could assess you and Zuko and use the excuse to see you again, see how she felt in your presence and if it made her feel better...if it did, well she’d take it from there. Yes she would do that, comforted she say back and began to finally listen to what Ozai was saying.

Your POV

You were woken up by someone shaking your arm. You groaned opening your eyes and jolted to see it was Azula. "Princess" you gasped flushing, the Princess was here in your room. She had come here in the middle of the night to see you. You were furious at yourself for not tidying your room before you’d gone to sleep or for wearing better quality night clothes but Azula didn’t seem to mind. She smiled and sat next to you on the edge of your bed "yes it’s me y/n, have you forgotten what I look like already?". "Of course not" you replied and she smiled again "good, i came to see how your time with zu zu is going?". You felt disappointed, that’s why she was here but what else did you expect? Just because your mind hadn’t left Azula since the moment you’d been seperated didn’t mean hers hadn’t either. You frowned and answered her question "it’s going as you said it would, he is very awkward at the moment but polite and kind I suppose". "Does he trust you yet?". You shook your head "no I think it will take more time". Azula frowned but then nodded "yes that is to be expected..but I’m sure considering it is you it will not take long". You frowned unsure if this was a compliment “may I ask why you think that?” you asked seeming to catch Azula of guard. She looked up at you before shooting her eyes away, she looked conflicted. “Well my brother has shown preference for you before, he chose to flirt with you at the Ember Islands over anyone else, there was a whole room full of potential girls but he chose you to make Mai jealous”. You paused as many argument sprung up in your head to counter Azula’s claim but then stopped noticing Azula seemed angry, she spat the statement Zuko liked you and was glaring at the floor. Even if she was wrong about Zuko liking you that didn’t mean she knew that, she honestly believed he liked you and that angered her. It was ridiculous but you wondered if that belief was why Azula chose you to assign to Zuko. “Azula you told me you wanted me to get close to Zuko how close?” you asked warily. Her eyes narrowed and she wringed her own hands at the comment “I’m not sure y/n” she admitted “for you to learn his secrets I need him to trust you, to be fond of you and to let you in” she explained and you nodded “I understand Princess”. “But the two of you will be nothing like how our relationship is” Azula said fiercely and you smiled slightly. “Or was I suppose” Azula trailed off and you frowned. “How have you been?” you asked “I have wanted to enquire about you to the other servants but didn’t want to ruin my cover”. Azula smiled slightly “I am fine, your replacement is a complete idiot however” Azula cried “she has no idea of my schedule or how important is it for me to be punctual! She gets my food orders wrong and booked my training rooms for the complete wrong days! And she doesn’t arrange my room the way you did!” Azula carried on and you grinned. Azula blushed and looked down “I suppose you can say I’ve noted your absence”. You smiled sadly and hardly thinking place your hand on top of hers “I’ve missed you too Azula”. You expected her to yell at you for touching her or for insinuating she missed you but she did neither. She shifted and you moved your hand away but Azula didn’t move away “If you have missed me as you put it” she said looking down “you may like my proposal”. You watched Azula waiting for her to continue and nodded when she looked up “I am listening”. “The last night you were my servant...the deal I offered you”. You sat up now fully alert and stared at Azula noticing the slight blush on her cheeks. "I know I said it was a one time thing but..." Azula trailed off and you stared at her, willing her to continue with what she was saying but she seemd to need encouragement. "Pri...I mean Azula...". Azula looked up as you corrected yourself and she smiled. "Azula" you carried on "if you wish to do what we did again, I wouldn’t object". "You enjoyed it?" Azula asked smirking smugly, her nerves now apparently gone and her voice alone sent shivers up your neck. "Of course" you nodded "I haven’t stopped thinking about it honestly". Azula felt excitment but also intrigued, you hadn’t been able to get her out of your head either? She shook away the leaping thoughts and smirked "so really I’d be helping you focus on your duties? If I did this you’d stop daydreaming about me and do your work?" She asked tilting her head to one side as she leant backwards on her arms. You looked up at her and saw how cocky she was, she oozed confidence and ease and you loved it. "Yes princess" you gulped out of habit and she tutted "Azula" she corrected you before kissing you. The sensation was soon becoming familiar and you smiled as azula pushed you to lay down, if this became a regular thing like Azula said you’d be the happiest servant alive,who cares if you got caught?

Afterwards you both lay recovering in comfortable silence before Azula spoke. “Your room needs redecorating” Azula commented and you looked to where she lay beside you staring up at your ceiling. You were still in a daze and weren’t sure you heard her right “I’m sorry?”. Azula sat up and smiled at you over her shoulder ”Your room, It is plain and ugly”. You shrugged “It’s the same as all the servants rooms” you replied and Azula smiled “yes but you are not just any servant are you? You are my servant” making you blush. Azula smiled and continued “and if I am to be spending more time here I would have it look nice”. You paused as Azula surveyed the room “I think some nicer drapes, new furniture and of course some softer bedding” she smiled making you blush. “I will see what I can find..” you started and Azula shook her head “No i will have it all sorted” she told you getting back dressed “I will show you the plans before I do anything of course but I am sure you will like my taste”. You redenned again but smiled “whatever you wish”. The room had never bothered you before, you didn’t care if Azula changed it, if it meant Azula would be visiting more you’d install a hole in the ceiling. Azula nodded “I will have it all ready by my next visit, now I must be leaving”. You nodded and rushed to stand, it was stupid you just done things that definitely went against the formalities required of a servant but now out of the moment you were back to formal mode and the thought of Azula showing herself out was preposterous. Azula seemed the find it amusing too and smirked as you rushed to escort her to the door “this was most enjoyable” Azula told you stroking your cheek “you thought so too?” she asked. “Definitely” you nodded “you are welcome any time”. Azula’s smirk wavered and was replaced with a genuine smile and her eyes softenned “thank you y/n” she said quietly and you smiled, making sure not to make a big deal of this and scare her off. Azula coughed looking down and removed her hand from your cheek “I will see you again in 2 days time, same place and time”. “I look forward to it” you smiled and Azula smirked “good night y/n” and exited your room.

You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed it but you thought both you and Azula changed after that night. When you saw Azula in the throne room or the coridoors of the palace her gaze always lingered on you when nobody was watching and when you looked at her she’d smile slightly. Just a twinge of her cheeks but you knew Azula well enough to read those minute movements all her family didn’t notice. You were sure you were actually making Azula happy and not like how winning a war or humilating a person made her happy but purely happy, innocently happy. All you had to do was trick Zuko into trusting you, cover up Azula’s visits to your room, avoid the suspicion of Mai, Ozai and your fellow servants all while doing your daily jobs! Shouldn’t be too hard.

----

I know it’s over used but I had to play on the jealousy between Azula and Zuko, I think Zuko defo brings out her jealous side more than anyone and would make her finally realise her emotions for the reader. I kind of felt like this was a awkward part storywise as it didn’t really advance too much but I tried to make the relationships Azula and Zuko have with the reader progress naturally. I’m planning on only making two more parts so don’t worry the story will esculate and be much more fast paced from now on!

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

Text

aithusia

hi bestie @lady-ofmagic-andstars it's been a while. i said i would do this episode last week but i had to wait for the destiny and chicken podcast to come out so here we are. basically, all of my thoughts while watching aithusia.

ugh the opening scene. i actually love it

ok ngl i remember that this guy is the bad guy but he's like 🥵🥵🥵 jeez

ik it's not just on tiktok but that tiktok where it goes 'but momma i'm in love with a criminal'

wow nice key bud

ok him running in the forest is just like you cannot outrun your demons and i thought that was so funny

smh he's so violent but he's so pretty :,)

ok but how old is this guy?? he say it's taken 20 years of his life. why 20? is that because that's when the 'last' dragon died out?? and at what age was he socially concious enough to recognize the implication of what it means to have a dragon? his is so dumb but probably like 15? so this guy is 35ish? idk man thoughts?

ok if he just feel off the cliff instead of being able to pull himself up we would've saved ourselves a lot of trouble i'm just saying druids.

ok this is so pretty. my thoughts are like 25% me singing show tunes, 25% thinking of actual merlin things, 50% thinking about how pretty everything is

merlin is such a light sleeper. idk why that's important but he wakes up ALL the time

✨gaius is the worst ✨

ok colin's eye looked so good in this scene

aLASFLJDFA MERLIN AND HIS SOCKS

stop i literally dress like this

i love his sleep clothes. it's such a vibe

aw merlin saying 'save the dragons is so cute' omg it reminds me of the vsco girls and saving the turtles HAHA

i love how equal merlin and kilgharrah feel here

asjflsjdasjdfl like ik this is the point but i love that merlin's inherited his father gift and he's always going to remember him. not that merlin would forget his father but idek

aw kilgharrah is like 'i beg you' ok now that i think abt it maybe it's slightly manipulative but it's also really not

ok actually i don't know how many time merlin uses this scene but i guess i'm keeping track now. but look how pretty

wow the rising sun 🤪

OH HAHA THIS IS WHERE MERLIN CARTWHEELS??

literally merlin just breaks in everywhere

merlin seems so earnest about wanting to see the dragons. i want to see the dragons too please

omg HAHA the woodworm is this episode??

WHY IS MERLIN STILL SEARCHING AFTER ARTHUR TURNS AROUND WHAT?

this is a side note but i love arthur's key holder thingy it's actually pretty.

stop right now why is merlin using his magic to PANTS arthur

ok i'm pretty sure that agravaine is only in this episode this one time, and yk it's the little victories

i'm actually embarassed for arthur and merlin here. i don't like it at all

HOW DOES MERLIN DO THE HANDSTAND?? that's the one part i like

ok my question is how is he supposed to know where the last piece of the triskeleton is??

SECOND QUESTION WHY IS HE JUST STANDING IN THE VAULT WHEN HE SHOULD BE RUNNING

lasflkajsdljsad omg the betrayal. ouch my heart

these scene are just like. it's actually art

ok how did merlin stay there all night and no one saw him?? literally camelot guards need to step up

omg no not merlin zooming

sklfja;lsdkjfasdlfs amerlin and the cup

i love how long merlin and arthur look at each other before arthur reacts

lsjfa;lksdsl woodworm omg and the fact that arthur believes that merlin is this chaotic is so funny

HAHA THIS SCENE GAIUS LITERALLY YELLING AT MERLIN

i think this is the funniest thing because gaius is like 'don't people about your magic' while YELLING ABOUT MERLIN'S MAGIC

ok that's a good point gaius we don't know what borden's intentions are

alsdjfalsd stop why didn't they wait for merlin :,(. this reminds me of when you're in highschool and you're finishing lunch and as you pack up everyone is leaving you??????

ok but i love that merlin rides in front with arthur. like- of course he does

merlin being observant 😍😍

i want to go horse riding now

STOP I DON'T LIKE THIS

THIS KNIGHT/DINNER GAG IS NOT FUNNY TO ME. NOT IN THE SLIGHTLEST. THERE'S THIS FIC by @a-small-batch-of-dragons. i literally spent like 10 minutes looking for it because i had to include it here

this scene just.. i don't like it. i never have and i never will

like- who decided that putting this scene in here would be good. no thanks

the knights sleeping in a circle and merlin sleeping on the outside. idk bro that made me a little sad

but also. i want a cloak please. i think i'm just going to say i want a cloak every episode

ok i chuckled at the interaction of 'ever herd of the word sorry?' and 'no is it a word you made up?'

dude don't ask why but i love it when people walk through waterfalls

i don't know why arthur looked so stupid when he was doing it though

i love the nature of it all

yes merlin, you start walking toward the castle first

aw i love the knights working together. like, i know they work together- they're knights, but we love to see it

merlin and his sharp eyes again :,))

why are they making camp it's literally not even dark yet 😭😭

oh great another dinner gag. please stop. i dislike this immensely

wow i love that merlin can heal them. i also think it's surprising because merlin sucks at healing things but yk.. ✨plot✨

this looks like the type of building teens would either be convinced is haunted and try to stay the night there or the type of building that all teens would go to to take pics for the #gram

ok is borden dead here or..

yes i'm putting both of these picture here. who's going to stop me

just kidding it's three

ok so not dead

ok this is not meant to be creepy but colin has nice hands

borden is a creep please go away now

merlin use your ✨magic ✨ please

YES. tell him you're the last dragonlord. i stan. YES HIM AND HIS MAGIC

you better run boy

ok how he manages to get out of the castle is astounding

HAHA there was some CGI that fell and i laughed so hard because it looked so fake

LITERALLY. THE PRETTY CASTLE SCENE IS HERE AGAIN. PRETTY CASTLE SCENE COUNTER; 3

omg merlin getting excited about the egg is actually so precious

both of their faces here are SO precious.

oasfasldfjasl idk why but whenever merlin walks across with the eggs i have this feeling he's going to faceplant and drop it for the comedic effect but i'm glad that never happens

bruh 'back where it belongs' like yes that makes sense but also that doesn't make sense

dude

it's been a full moon for like 4 days now..??????

omg i actually love aithusa

tbh, i DO NOT know how to pronounce her name

why is she actually the cutest thing ever.

AW MERLIN CRYING

i love it when merlin cries, but not in a sadistic way yk? it's more the fact that he's allowed to cry

ok i have a few dragon fics that i love but the only one i can think of right now is Returning the Favor by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle it's actually perfect

there are so many more that i love but i can't think of them but also- PLEASE REC YOUR FAVE DRAGON FAMILY DOMESTIC FICS PLEASE AND THANK YOU

anyways. i'll be back tomorrow to rant more about the darkest hr pt 2 so i'll see you then! also let me know if you want me to stop tagging you @lady-ofmagic-andstars because otherwise i will literally tag you in everything :,)

#merlin #merlin bbc #colin morgan #emrys #bradley james #gwaine #lancelot #arthur pendragon #king arthur #guinevere #morgana #elyan #percival #leon #gaius #uther #angel coubly #katie mcgrath

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chemicalpink · 4 years

Text

Trust Fund Baby ♡ Kim Seokjin

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

Genre: Fluff + Softcore Smut with a side of Comedy

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: includes softcore porn, mc cries during sex bc too much feelings, fake engagement, Jin’s mum dislikes YN

Summary: Kim Seokjin is the biggest Trust Fund Baby, it is no secret but he’s almost thirty and on the line to inherit his dad’s CEO position, which makes his family set a deadline for his engagement or he loses it all.

The one where Seokjin is no good with buried feelings but Y/N isn’t any better (they kinda hate each other and they have to share a bed okay, thats the cliche here)

A/N: banner made by me, whoa I finally got this bad boy finished that took quite some time, well, I hope you enjoy, these past few days haven’t been nice to me but I’m slowly working on it. Much blessing to all of you reading this first attempt at a slightly longer shot.

Seokjin has always been one to enjoy the finest things in life, traveling around the world at any given time? check. shopping without checking the price tag? check. attending a top tier university? also check.

The thing is, one can only live so long without having to actually work for every single swipe of a black card. He is about to turn 28, youngest child of the most successful tech innovator in Korea and a former second-place Miss Universe, and he has yet to bring a girl home that provides him with some kind of secured future to the family name.

“We are not getting any younger” his mother had said the first few times the topic was brought up during their usual family Sunday brunch, but the words fell on deaf ears.

When his dad started getting involved in the matter, Seokjin knew he was over and done with.

But as much as his dad was headstrong, Jin was one himself too, he entered each blind date knowing that he would make whoever was sitting across from him, absolutely despise him after less than an hour went by, which was quite a hard task in itself, seen as he was pretty good looking and with a heavy amount of money under his name.

See, he would have probably agreed to marry to some of the girls that his dad sent his way, but every time he sat down for dinner with each of them, they were not even trying to fake being interested in him, just his lifestyle, whether it is if his dad was about to name him CEO any time soon or how much money they could blow off in the wedding.

He could do it for the rest of his living days, scaring off his father’s candidates, that is. It was somewhat fun, earning a weirded out look when he mentioned he liked bathing in goats milk religiously, or how he allegedly liked being put to sleep like a baby, he even once went as far as admitting a fake toe kink in the most perverted way possible when one of them just wouldn’t budge.

Then again, his fun could only last so long, as his father called him up to the office to give him a 30-day ultimatum or his trust fund would be taken away for good. Now that had the gears in his head working, how on earth would any sane enough person agree to marry in a month-long time.

“I’m not saying you’re not a keeper, hyung but I honestly don’t think I can take up such a responsibility,” Namjoon laughed as they sat in one of the campus’ lounge chairs while they waited for their class to start, the elder groaned in response.

“Could you imagine having to marry THE Kim Seokjn in less than a month, but also having to meet the standards of tech genius Mr Kim and universal beauty Mrs Kim” Jungkook laughed at his friend as he patted his shoulder in pity “I don’t think anyone is willing to put themselves through it hyung”

“Could you just- I don’t know, help me out a bit? I already know I’m fucked”

“Okay, let’s say… who could pass the scrutinising judgemental eye of the Kims?” the blond one offered, just a bit of teasing in his tone “They would have to be a girl, your father seems adamant on that one” he paused as if in thought “ A nice family name would help too”

“She would have to be good looking too, my mum says Seokjin-hyung’s mum can never be seen without looking like she is about to own a runway”

“Well that’s about it, I will be broke for the rest of my life, I won’t be able to pay my student loans, it was nice knowing you guys, I’ll just have to work at some greasy old diner to pay for a one-bedroom apartment somewhere out of the city and we’ll never hang out again because I’ll be a disgrace of society, this handsome face will just wrinkle and spot without the high maintenance and- ugh” he buried his face in between his hands, resting on the table in an overexaggerated manner after his rant, making the youngers try to stifle a laugh

“Whoa, what is the drama queen crying about now?” Taehyung, another friend of theirs approached the table after hearing the not so subtle commotion “Hyung, if your night cream went out of stock again, you know I can get my mum to ship some to you, we’ve talked about this”

If Seokjin’s dramatic outburst from before had made them laugh, Taehyungs’ confession made them burst in a fit of laughter that had both of them holding onto their sides “You’ve- you’ve had to restock Seokjin-hyung on- on night cream before?”

“And now he’s going to kill me, stop laughing!” he took a seat next to them “What is this about anyway?”

“His dad said he has to marry or they will completely obliterate his spending rights”

“Oh but, how hard can it be? You’re Kim Seokjin, just ask a girl to fake marry you”

“He’s just worried that after having a taste of Worldwide Handsome, they won’t let go ” Seokjin let out an overdramatic groan at that, continuing to fake cry, sound muffled by his arms

“Then just ask someone that doesn’t give two shits about your money or reputation to fake marry you”

“I don’t think such a person exists, hyung”

“Yah, Y/N is a good option, her family is filthy rich too”

“But isn’t Y/N… you know, a bastard child?” Taehyung was known amongst their scene as a social butterfly, not caring about the protocol they were subdued into when they were children, so it made sense that while for them it was almost a rule to never consider an illegitimate child a friend of theirs, Taehyung would just jump over that fact.

“Which is exactly my point, if you show up to your parents’ house, saying you’re ‘oh so in love with this black sheep’ I could bet my life, they’ll let you off the hook”

So maybe Taehyung was right, you were his best shot so far. Contrary to what most people new to the scene of Korea’s high society believe about your social status as an illegitimate child of the car emporium’s CEO and national treasure, he knows you are more of an insider, having grown up with him but… pretty much on the side. It wasn’t like you were alien to his lifestyle, but as you both grew up and he was involved more in the family business, you had grown apart, going as far as rebelling against your father once you were grown up enough to understand what being a bastard child meant for you.

He never stopped seeing you around though, once you started going MIA on business dinners and family trips, he thought enough to see you during classes.

However, you stopped being recognisable after he attended a semester abroad, coming back home to see pigtails and pink puffy dresses long gone, in their place, ripped jeans, which were completely unacceptable for a lady, according to his mum, and driving one of your dad’s self-proclaimed archnemesis designs.

It was a spring semester in high school, he could recall the time as if it were a precious memory, while the rest tried to pretend it had never happened in the first place; at age 27 he doesn’t have to try so hard to recall the way you burst into one of your father’s celebratory cocktails, drunk off your ass, barely managing to get a hold of some mic and screaming into it how he, and everyone else attending the party, had a stick up their asses that didn’t let them see anything but price tags before you were dragged off stage by security. He had giggled at it but his mother had scolded him, asking him to pretend as if you had never existed in the first place.

So of course, the secure way out of an arranged marriage was simple: you.

Now, this promised to be no easy task, he knew you hated his family almost as much as you hated your own father, but he also happened to know his way into negotiating an infallible plan that would get you to rebel against the system you were so adamant on taking down.

“Wait wait wait, so you’re telling me, asking me, to marry you” so perhaps approaching you on your way to class wasn’t the smartest way to do it, seen as you halted your hasty walk to turn to look at him, books in hand and looking like you hadn’t slept in days.

“Yeah, fake marrying me though”

“I would still sign a contract, Jin you do know we would be legally married, right?” he just raised his shoulders as if to dismiss your statement.

“Say, hypothetically I do it, I don’t think your parents would approve of me” you resumed your walk and he found it appropriate to play dumb with a smile on his face.

“Why wouldn’t they?”

You stopped walking again and blinked a few times his way as if debating inside your head if he really was that dense“Jin… I’m a bastard child, you know how it goes around here”

“Hmmm I’m willing to look past that, yeah” you stared at him for a few seconds before smiling in a knowing way, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, not being able to see past his words to his true intentions on the matter since you two hadn’t really hung out for years “So what do you say?”

“No thank you” you weren’t about to turn around once you started to walk away once again, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him hanging his mouth open in that drama fashion he was known for.

Days passed and each one seemed to go by faster than the last, by the time two weeks were left, he could practically hear the ticking clock inside his head, reminding him that maybe he should have gone for an easier target, perhaps some girl from the country club that seemed to always try so hard to steal a glance from him. But then again, he wouldn’t get rid of her for all he’s worth.

Seokjin tries, again and again, everytime ending up with a no from you, he starts actually trying as his days run low, peer pressure, you’d call it as he set up a huge booth full of roses just outside your dorm building, a mic held in his hand as everyone around him took videos of THE Kim Seokjin making a fool of himself for a girl, your cheeks blazing red as you walked up to him, finally fed up with him as you angrily whispered to him “You’re asking me because you don’t think I am on your level, you honestly think less of me, why? because I didn’t grow up in a golden cradle like you and your friends? because I actually have to work for what I have? You’re an asshole Kim Seokjin, but I will prove you, I can absolutely charm both of your parents, I’ll do it” Seokjin’s grin taking over his features.

The first time you officially posed as Seokjin’s girlfriend, you wouldn’t have thought it would be one of the most nerve wrecking experiences in your life, having grown in a wealthy family, after your mother decided to leave you with your biological dad and his rightful heirs, you were no stranger to their roundabouts, their lifestyle and everything in between.

“Well you cleaned up nicely, Y/N” Seokjin said in a mocking tone, body resting against his black car just outside your dorm building as he watched you close the glass door, ready to drive both of you to his family’s vacation house all the way in Jeju Island

“Why aren’t you a gentleman and help me with my stuff?” you groaned as, once again, your suitcase betrays you and tries to slip away from your grasp.

“Nah, not really my thing” he adjusted his sunglasses perched on his nose as he mockingly added “...darling”

“Kim Seokjin, I am the one doing you a favour by going with you!” you shouted back at him, in a futile attempt to get him to help you as he was already buckling himself up inside the driver’s seat.

In all wealthy family fashion, as soon as Seokjin phoned back home to let his parents know that he was ‘finally ready to bring his girlfriend over’ his mum had gone all out and invited most of the inner Kim family for a weekend get together in one of their houses in Jeju, with just a text the night before having to leave campus as a heads up for you to get ready, currently on your way to catch a plane.

“Wait so let me just get this straight” you said, surprised at Seokjin’s story of how the conversation with his mum went down, turning in your seat to face him more clearly “just after month of your parents trying to set you up, you just went ahead and straight up lied to your mother by saying that you’re bringing your long time girlfriend that you just somehow never mentioned before?”

“Yeah, Y/N, didn’t you hear me out the first time?”

You let out something between a laugh and a scoff as you melted into your seat “We’re so screwed”

Two hours and a lot of bickering later, you are still pushing your own suitcase forward as you and Seokjin made your way to a rented car just outside the airport.

“Listen so- these family things are kinda..”

“Stuck up?”

“I was gonna say etiquette-driven, but yeah, stuck up probably fits best” he said as you buckled your seatbelt on, him beginning to drive away and towards his family address, somewhere from the side of your eye you could see his hand trembling lightly on the steering wheel. Could it be that Kim Seokjin was nervous? The Kim Seokjin?

“Relax Jin, I know exactly how to handle it. We grew up together, remember?” you said smiling at him as he turned your way for a second; to calm him down, but honestly it was more a thing to try and calm yourself down, having ran away from such a lifestyle, stirring things up in your family, only to end up somehow at the center of it all was sure a wild ride to be on.

“Yeah, I sometimes kinda forget you used to be so much better at this stuff than your sisters” his eyes lingered on you a second too long as you stopped at a red light, a small smile taking over his lips and the car behind you being quick to make it known that Seokjin was taking up too long to start the car going again when the light changed.

The ride was pretty much silent and kinda awkward but soon over with as the car pulled up to a familiar villa, white houses with fancy front gardens and over the top luxury cars lining up together as Jin parked on the third house on the right, just beside the one that used to be your father’s, and probably still was.

A woman was waiting by the entrance door, which you soon recognised to be Seokjin’s mum, looking just a tad older than how you remembered her from all those years ago, a bright smile on her face as she rushed to the driver’s side to greet her son.

“Ah Seokjinnie! You never visit anymore, look at you! Are you eating well? You look so thin!” she said as she placed two sonorous kisses on her son, one on each cheek.

“Yah, eomma, we talk on the phone a lot though”

“Wait so who’s the lucky lady you’ve brought home?” you stood kind of awkwardly on the front of the car to greet her with a small bow and a faltering smile, your heart speeding up at the memories of what your life used to be, fingers gripping your bag tighter in an attempt to not run away as soon as her eyes landed on you and her smile fell “Y/N? Seokjinnie, is Y/N really the girl you brought home?”

“Surprise?” Jin said from behind her as she not so subtly let out a huff and entered the house as you tried not to notice how your heart sinked at the sight, surely, you had always known deep down that you were quite the talk of the town amongst the families, with you being a bastard child and all, which was exactly why Seokjin had asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend, so his parents would drop the topic, very much preferring to see his son single rather than married to an out of marriage offspring, which not only made you realise that what you had promised yourself to make Seokjin down his words would never be true, you could never in a million years make his parents love you, and you didn’t calculate just how much it would hurt yourself as you tried.

“You can take the room upstairs, I’ll call you when your sister’s back so we can have dinner together” his mother said as she made her way inside without another word

“So I don’t think your mother likes me” you blurted out as soon as you closed the door to the room “Which I guess, goes exactly as you planned, after this I don’t think they’ll be pestering you to marry”

“Y/N that’s the least of our problems”

“What are you talking about?”

His eyes opened up to emphasize along with his hands dramatically pointing towards the bed “There’s only one bed and I have a bad back so I’m not about to sleep on the floor”

“Well that’s the least you could do Kim, I’m not about to share a bed with you”

“Take the couch?” he said as he pointed to a small couch that faced the window

“Kim Seokjin I’m doing this much for your sorry ass, so unless you want me to go down and tell your mother that all of this is a set up, you take the damn couch”

“Well I never knew you looked that hot while yelling at me, Y/N”

“You’re insufferable”

“Y/N come on, I don’t fit in that couch” he whined at you as you walked towards the bathroom to freshen up

“Do as you please Seokjin, but you’re not sleeping with me”

As if dealing with Seokjin’s mum wasn’t enough, his sister was about to burst your head either from all the questioning or out of spite from the looks she was giving you as you sat across from her on the dinner table

“So Y/N, your sisters never mentioned you dating our Seokjin”

“Oh yeah- it was more of a very private matter, we dated for awhile just to see how it went, right Jinnie?” you said the nickname in a honey dripping voice that fitted the fake scenario you had going on

“Ahh yeah, yeah, Y/N and I, we uh- we like keeping to ourselves”

“And I haven’t seen you at your dad’s company dinners after- well, the incident”

“Seung” their oldest brother said sternly, catching up with her intentions “We’re just glad to see you again, Y/N”

“Thanks”

After dinner, Jin and you walked upstairs saying your goodbyes to the rest of his family to enter the bedroom, separately doing your night routines, you lied on one side of the bed as Seokjin prepped a few blankets and pillows in order to lie on the floor “I was just joking, you know? You could sleep on the other side of the bed” you said, feeling somewhat guilty at how he had taken your past statement as a rule

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he was quick to say, already tossing at being uncomfortable lying on the floor.

“Oh so now you’re being considerate?” you scoffed- sure, Seokjin was kind of a dick, most of the time, but he wasn't half as bad as most people his age and social status, but honestly speaking, if he was so preoccupied on making you uncomfortable, he wouldn’t have even proposed to make you go through this whole ordeal “After what I just had to go through with your sister?”

“Well you kind of accepted to come” he retorted in a soft voice, one you hadn’t listened to him use before, as if over the course of the short dinner time, something had changed in your relationship “A friend doing me a favour, you know?”

“Seokjin…” you trailed off, however as far as you two went back, after news broke that you were somewhat cut off from your father’s heirship, and everyone started treating you cold as ever, you would have thought Jin had gotten the clue “We stopped being friends a long time ago”

“What are you talking about” the night was filled with silence apart from your two whispering voices in the dark as both of you laid there

“Yeah after… that time, we hadn’t talked to each other until now” Describing your relationship with Seokjin was one of the most difficult things to do, while you were still part of the official lineage of your father’s, the Kims had actually even rooted for you to marry Seokjin, whomst you were head over heels at the time, both of you were, but Jin being the good son and heir to a tech emporium, had always disliked the way you stood up against your father and the whole elite thing your families had going on; needles to say, you both completely cut off any strings attached after you proclaimed your despise to the whole wealthy ordeal and you were vanished from your dad’s will.

“I fail to see your point” and for a second you would have loved to believe his soothing voice in the dark, to still be in friendly terms at least, with him, after all this time.

“Nevermind just- goodnight” you said as you turned on your side to cuddle the pillow in between your arms, his soft voice reaching your ears once more and for the last time in the night.

“Goodnight Y/N”

“I’m just going straight to the point here, Y/N what exactly do you plan on achieving by marrying my son?” Jin’s mother said as soon as you came down the stairs, Seokjin having left the room a while back

“Nothing ma’am, we’re just really in love” something inside you twisting at the lie that could have been truth if things were just a tiny bit different than how they were evolving at the time, the words leaving your lips sounding as the mere truth to your ears nonetheless

“I don’t buy that lovebirds facade, Y/N drop the act now” she turned to look directly at you, trying to sound menacing, which, would have worked, had it not been for you handling her for quite some time now, so you just tried your sweetest smile at her “Whatever you and Seokjin had when you were teens, your father and Seokjin’s father called it off”

“I know” you tried to conceal just how much the reminder hurted, the memories flooding into your mind, of you and Jin being engaged even before meeting each other, the good times you both spent together as friends, a few months as something more, then the lonely nights when it was all over and it had seemed like a dream that just wouldn’t ever come true.

“Just so you know, I’m keeping a close eye on you two” were her last words before leaving the kitchen, off to some other place in the house.

“Yes ma’am”

“Hey, Y/N, we’re heading to the beach you coming?” Seokjin asked as he laid his elbow on the counter, you pull him towards you, taking his hand in your smaller one as you watched his mother closing in on you two from the distance before she set her eyes elsewhere

He leaned in to you, whispering “What was that for?”

“Your mother knows something’s up” you shortly answered

“Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming” Seokjin’s father looked just as he did the last time you saw him years ago, his face contorting into an incredule one as he saw you descend from one of the cars that took you to the beach “Are you and your father on a better place now?”

“Oh no sir, I’m accompanying Seokjin” if he hadn’t believed your presence at first, he surely wasn’t believing the words leaving your mouth; Seokjin’s father had always had a soft spot for you, my hardest working tobe daughter-in-law, he had once said, and even after you and Seokjin’s engagement was called off, mainly by your father even when Jin’s mum said otherwise, his dad had offered you a place in his company’s headboard after you graduated, which you politely denied, knowing that someday, Seokjin would be CEO and you would have to work under his name directly.

“Seokjin? my son?” you nodded “What has Seokjin ever done to deserve you as his fiancee?”

“The same thing I keep repeating myself” you mutter more to yourself than for him to hear

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!”

The weekend with Jin’s family was as monotonous as you remembered them to be, with family dinner after a day at the beach, plus the constant scrutinising eye of his mother on you two, which made you both hold hands more than the normal amount a real couple should, only to have to spend the night at a lonely bed.

“Jin, I’m cold”

“Well you sure aren’t planning on also taking my blanket from me, you’ve taken my bed already” he joked from his made up bed on the floor, which in hindsight, was probably even colder for him than for you

“Jin”

“No can’t do”

“Come cuddle me then” the words had left your mouth before your brain could even complete to process them, the situation all too familiar from years before, like muscle memory, your brain had just dwelled into a common relationship between the two, too easy to slip away from.

“Ohhh you’re already falling for worldwide handsome” he joked, only you knowing the truth his words hid behind them and you felt your face heat up, somehow deciding against backing up.

“Shut up just-” torn between spilling your “new found” feeling for him that were remains from a past love or keeping it the bare minimum “I’m cold”

“Fine, I’ll be there” he paused, and you knew him all too well to know that he was wearing a stuid grin on his face, wondering if by any chance the innocent banter had a deeper meaning for him too as he added “Almost fiancee”

You could hear a shuffling of blankets and him throwing his pillows on the bed before he literally jumped on it, whole body hovering over yours, his eyes glistening as they bore into yours as he kept his body weight on his extended hands, a familiar twist in your heart at the distance, his lips on yours in the blink of an eye for less than a second before he rolled off to the empty side of the bed

“What was that for?!” you panicked, not loud enough for anyone to hear but him

“I don’t know it felt right”

As you turned to confront him, the air suddenly didn’t feel as cold as before, a warmth enveloping you both that felt like home, like this place and time was exactly where you were supposed to be all along, your hands coming up to caress the side of his face as his larger ones tugged you closer to him effortlessly without breaking eye contact; both of your faces coming closer to each other, noses brushing against each other before your lips found his, an all too familiar setting for the both of you, everything feeling as if both of your lives had been a movie that had been unwillingly paused and someone had pressed play just as you were close like this, feeling as if all those years apart were nothing when together, his hot tongue lapping your lower lip as you granted him entrance, tongues dancing with one another as time seemed to slow down, a gasp escaping your lips as his cold hand found its way into your pajama pants “sorry, is this okay?” he whispered against your lips, to which you agreed, your own hands scurrying under his top to caress his torso, his lips finding your sweet spot under your ear all too easily, as if he had never forgotten about it, his pants straining by each passing second as you felt him grow harder against your thigh, hand going under the covers to palm him over the fabric, which made him exhale a moan in your ear, feeling yourself grow wetter at the display, all too familiar, yet not enough, you lunged yourself over him to straddle his hips, clothed core rubbing against his covered length in a futile attempt to ease the tension “ah- you’re sure about this, Y/N?” he found himself checking in with you before you both lost yourselves to pleasure “a hundred percent, Jin”.

Seokjin was quick to rid you both of your clothing, both of you grimacing at the cold and giggling about it for a second before you resumed your ways with one another, Jin’s tongue working its way down your body until he reached your folds, eating you out like a man starved, his hand finding yours to grip tight as he went down to business, lapping up your juices and working you to your first quieted orgasm of the night with a questionable experience, were you two to have never broken up in the first place; you quick to turn you both over so you were on top and ready to ride his apparently aching length as soon as he disctrated himself by kissing you post-bliss tasting yourself on his tongue, a smirk forming in his features as he reached on the bed side table to roll a condom on himself, your hands teasing him already as you muttered a “Your parents are in the next room” that was soon answered with a cocky “We shouldn’t let them hear then” before you lined him up with your entrance and slided down on him, hands gripping each other’s as you started working a pleasurable deep pace, moans tangling with the other’s, eyes fluttering shut and a lonely tear rolling down you cheek at all the emotions that you had pent up and were slowly releasing by each thrust as you buried your face on his neck, startling Jin and making you look down on him to check on you as he noticed you crying “Y/N, are you okay?” he muttered sweetly before kissing your lips in the sweetest form, hips stilling as he was buried deep inside you, him tossing you underneath him, angling his hips better and taking over a more passionate pace, plump lips kissing away your falling tears, as if knowing that they were caused by something bigger than the both of you “God you’re so beautiful” he said as his pace became erratic “Come with me please, Y/N” whether his words or the newly found position as he pulled a leg over his shoulder, hitting all the right spots, worked you to your second orgasm, followed by him spilling in the condom, would remain a mystery as he was quick to dispose the used condom and clean both of you as you edged on sleep, his naked torso colliding with your bare back as he cuddled you.

“What are they doing here?” You muttered under your breath as Jin leaned into your frame, your right arm intertwined with his as you both rounded the corner to greet the guests that Jin’s mother had so carefully selected for the engagement party

“What? Who?” his eyes scanned the room rapidly

“My father and- Seoyun and Junghee” his free hand rested on top of yours in an attempt to let you know he was there for you, having witnessed first hand all the history between you and your family and mentally cursing his mother for playing you so dirty

“Shit”

“Seokjin I can’t keep doing this” you turned to him, eyes panicked and wide on the verge of tears, his mind racing a hundred miles per second in search for the right words that would make you stay, he had already lost you before, and even though things didn’t quite turned out the way he had planned, he wasn’t about to let you slip away again “I can’t face them again, after all they’ve put me through, Seokjin, they took away my dreams just because I wouldn’t pace around like the rest of them, this is your life, not mine I’m so sorry” you had ran out of his grip and out the door before his brain could even begin to process it, blinking a few too many times before he called out to you

“Seokjinnie! What’s taking you so long?” his mother had gathered the guests in the garden for the grand entrance of the newly announced engagement, tired of being kept waiting, walking up to him

“I’m so sorry eomma, I’ll- I just- I have to go” in his mind he was already out the door looking for you, had it not been for his mother’s hand on his bicep keeping him on place and turning him to look at her

“Kim Seokjin, we get it. Your father and I will wait until you find a girl to marry, one that suits you well” Seokjin’s mother was sure a woman that could not be fooled, but this one time perhaps it was Jin that had been fooled by himself on letting himself get close to you and fall in love all over again, just the way it happened all those years ago, just the way it was supposed to be

“That’s what you don’t get mum, I’ve already found the one”

“Y/N? Jinnie, Y/N is not part of our world, you know it”

“Then I want to be part of hers. I don’t care if you take my trust fund, take everything, I’ll build myself up, just like she did all those years ago and all of us, we all turned our backs on her, I want to be there for her, like it should have been from the start” he would have loved to record the incredulity in his mother’s eyes as she let her arms fall to her sides defeated, the first time Kim Seokjin had fail to complied with his mother was about none other than in an engagement matter.

Truth be told, you couldn't go far, there was no possible way you could just run home all the way from Jeju Island, but somehow seeing your tear stained face as you slumped over an old set of swings that he now recalled, you two used to go to back in the day, had his heart filling up, butterflies roaming his tummy

“...Jin” you exhaled his name, his mind quickly recalling the night before, how your eyes spilled love all over, how the past days watching you go on your daily routine alongside him, had him imploding with the purest kind of love

“Y/N? Listen I-” he began, a thousand words tangled in his mind waiting to be released

“I don’t think I made it”

“Made what?”

“Your parents to like me” a smirk appeared in his features as his hand came up to caress the side of your face lovingly

“Well you certainly made me like you” he said, close enough to your lips that you could have sworn both of your breaths mixed into one

“I don’t think you ever stopped liking me” a mirroring grin traced your lips before you leaned in to kiss him, whatever the path you two were once destined to walk, it was all different now, whatever turns it may take the only sure thing was that you two would walk it down together after all those years apart.

Plus, technically speaking, Jin’s trust fund should remain intact since he found a wife in less than a month’s time, and you could always ask his dad for that place in the company he was always talking about.

#hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kim seokjin smut #seokjin smut #seokjin imagine #seokjin oneshot #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagines #seokjin headcanon #seokjin fic #bts imagine #bts smut

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the-writer-nerd-ro · 3 years

Text

Part 1 of my HDL birthday fic. The other part will be out in the next few days

Birthday Plans

D: Any fun plans for today?

It was seven in the morning and Dewey was sitting in the cockpit of the Sunchaser on his birthday. Della was bringing coffee but Dewey was still a little tired. There was a different kind of tiredness that had settled in his bones as he thought about spending his birthday away from his brothers. He didn’t expect either of them to be awake but he thought he would shoot them a text before he started flying.

H: I wish. I have a bunch of tests tomorrow so I have to study all day today. But tomorrow after my tests, my friends and I are going out for belated birthday drinks.

D: Tell the bartender it’s your birthday and get free belated birthday drinks

H: I’m not going to lie, it’s against the JWG

D: You’re 24. You’re not a Junior Woodchuck anymore.

H: You’re right.

H: I’m a Senior Woodchuck.

L: Do you guys ever sleep???

D: It’s 7 AM

L: Yeah, it’s 7 AM, you should be asleep

D: What are your plans today, Lou?

L: Boyd is visiting after I get off work and we’re going to spend the rest of the day together

H: Aww, adorable.

D: Sappy

L: Anyway, what are you doing today, Dewdrop?

D: Doing a flight with mom and then cake with some of the fam later

H: Have fun, eat a slice of cake for me.

D: Will do

L: Your present should be in the mail. Yours too, Hue.

D: You didn’t have to get me anything

L: Yeah, but I feel bad that we can’t be together today. It feels weird.

D: It does feel weird

H: I miss you guys

Dewey set down his phone, blinking back tears. He hadn’t wanted to get emotional this morning but he was having a hard time holding it together if Huey was throwing around, “I miss you,” and Louie was commenting on how weird things were.

To avoid addressing his emotions Dewey found a gif of a dancing baby that said happy birthday. That was enough to start a gif chain that moved them away from heavy emotions.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Della asked, offering her son a cup of coffee, and taking in his bummed-out expression.

“Yeah, just texting Huey and Louie.”

Della nodded somberly, “It’s hard being apart from them, isn’t it?”

Dewey was trying his hardest not to get choked up.

“I shouldn’t be so dramatic. They’re just a few hours away, and we’re meeting up in a couple of weeks after Huey’s done with finals.”

“But today’s your birthday. It’s okay if you miss them extra hard today. Your feelings are valid.”

“It’s our first birthday apart,” Dewey whispered.

“I know how hard that can be,” Dell said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Mom? Does it get easier?”

“A little. But the time apart makes the time together so much better. And you get to do one barrel roll in the Sunchaser on your birthday.”

“I should get to do 24 barrel rolls because it’s my 24th birthday.”

“Don’t push it, buddy.”

Huey had a coffee and an English muffin (toasted, lightly buttered) and was one flashcard away from a breakdown. He was exhausted, which was not the way you wanted to spend your 24th Birthday.

Everything was always happening all at once. Huey probably wouldn’t have remembered it was his birthday until Dewey had texted him earlier. He’d fussed about lying to an imaginary bartender but had had no qualms lying to his brothers. There were no friends taking him out for belated birthday drinks. No one here knew him intimately enough to know his birthday.

Texts would roll in all day from the family and friends who he desperately missed, wishing him a pleasant day and asking him about his fabricated plans. He was almost in tears every time he furthered this delusion that he had people here, that he was not just a loser alone on his birthday. How pathetic would that be? When Dewey was with their family and Louie was with his boyfriend. Huey’s chest ached about the fact he was the only one alone.

Fenton was the only one who called him out on his lie.

F: What’re you doing for your birthday, Huey?

H: I have to study today but I’m getting drinks with some friends tomorrow.

F: Oh, nice.

F: So you finally made some friends over there?

Huey wished that he hadn’t ranted to his mentor about how incredibly difficult it was to find time to make friends.

H: ...No

F: So who are you drinking with?

H: Nobody

F: Drinking alone, then? Maybe call a car to get home.

H: I’m not drinking alone

F: So you just lied to me?

H: Not just you?

Fenton stopped responding for a few minutes and Huey felt devastated. He hadn’t wanted to lie to his loved ones but he hadn’t wanted them to pity him either. And now he had to deal with guilt on top of all the exhaustion.

F: So you’re all alone on your birthday?

H: I guess I am

F: I see why you wouldn’t want to talk about that

F: But you didn’t need to lie

H: It’s too late now, I already told everyone that I’d be drinking with friends tomorrow.

F: Well, I don’t have any plans tomorrow. Team Science reunion?

H: Team Science reunion

Huey felt a bit better about his birthday, grateful that Fenton had reached out. He still missed his brothers though. He decided to text them both one more time today before he went back to studying, though he decided to text them separately this time.

H: Have a safe flight, Dewey.

D: Thanks, bro. Good luck studying

H: Thanks

He decided to text Louie later since he’d been tired and he wasn’t fun to talk to when he was tired. And then, swamped with studying, he promptly forgot until dinner.

H: Hey! I hope you had a good day at work and that you and Boyd have fun today. A responsible amount of fun.

L: Lol I’ll tell Boyd that the arson is canceled

H: No arson, but you could still probably make S’mores. Boyd’s really good at that.

L: I get it, you’re both Senior Woodchucks. Hey, do something nice for yourself today, okay? Don’t just study yourself to death.

H: ...Okay. Thanks, Lou

“Who’re you texting?” Boyd asked, already making himself comfortable on Louie’s couch.

“Huey. He told us to have fun. And to not commit arson.”

“I wasn’t gonna commit arson on purpose, were you going to commit arson?”

“Well, it’s my birthday, and you did bring cupcakes and candles.”

“Mm, those are more fun if you blow them out instead of letting them burn. How’s Huey doing anyway? Fenton just texted me about him.”

“I’m afraid he’s overworking himself,” Louie admitted, “But that’s just Huey’s nature. I'm not especially surprised.”

"That's the vibe I got too. Fenton asked me if I wanted to go get drinks with him and Huey tomorrow so that he doesn't have to be alone."

“Whoa,” Louie said, eyes widening.

“What?”

“Huey must’ve lied about having plans with his school friends tomorrow.”

“Aw. Well, you would’ve done the same thing. Huey probably just didn’t want you guys to worry. A classic Louie move.”

Louie frowned deeply.

"Hey, babe, do you ever get the sense you're doing the wrong thing?"

"Elaborate?"

"Well, I took this internship, to you know, pull myself up by my bootstraps. Be my own person."

"I'm really proud of you for that."

"Yeah, well… Being my own person sucks. I've always been one in a set of three. And it feels like recently someone ripped the "Do not separate" sticker off and I hate it."

"Hm… Do you want to come and get drinks with me tomorrow?"

"Getting wasted won't help. I've tried and alcohol doesn't fill that hole."

"I know, I've carried you home before. But I mean do you want to go get drinks with me and your brother? We could surprise Huey."

"Hey… That's not such a bad idea. I need to make a call."

“I’ll light your cupcakes on fire,” Boyd said cheerfully.

“No fair, starting the arson without me,” Louie laughed, as he pulled up the texts from the morning and tapping on Dewey’s number.

“Oh, hey! Hey, Louie, hold on, guys Louie’s on the phone, we gotta sing again!”

Louie laughed, cringing a little in anticipation of the awkwardness as his family began a staticky and muffled rendition of Happy Birthday.

“Thanks, guys, means a lot to me. Dewey, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure, sure, let me just step outside,” A moment later Dewey’s voice came back, “What’s up?”

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Uh, not sure, why?”

“Well, it seems like Hubert lied about his birthday plans. Apparently, there were never any friends he was gonna go drinking with, so Fenton decided to drop by and he wanted to bring Boyd and Boyd thought it was a good idea if I tagged along. So what if we surprise Huey? He’s been working really hard at med school- hell, we’ve all been working really hard. What do you say?”

Dewey was silent for a minute and then Louie heard a laugh (Or was it a sob?) on the other end.

“Man, I’ve missed you guys so much. I’d love to do that. Let’s set something up, mm-kay?”

“Yeah. Boyd! Text Fenton and tell him that me and Dewey are gonna come surprise Huey, we’ll figure it out from there.”

“Okee dokee,” Boyd said cheerfully, putting an alarming amount of candles (probably 24) in one cupcake.

“I have to go, Dewey, I’m afraid that Boyd is about to set my apartment on fire without me, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! Enjoy your fire hazard and your boyfriend.”

“Those are the same thing, Dewey.”

“Then enjoy your fire boyfriend. Boyfire? I dunno.”

“He is pretty fire, isn’t he? Bye, Dewey.”

“Bye!”

“Boyd if you light that you’ll coat that cupcake in so much wax it’ll be disgusting and that’s just a waste of a good cupcake.”

“Then I’ll eat that one. I’m an android I’m not as picky about what is and isn’t cupcake.”

“Sometimes, fortunately not often but sometimes, you remind me so much of Dewey that it’s terrifying.”

“Do you still love me?” Boyd asked, squinting a little and laser lighting the candles. As Louie had assumed it quickly became a soupy, fiery mess.

“More than words can express,” Louie said, capturing Boyd’s lips in a kiss after extinguishing the cupcake.

“Did you make a wish, baby?” Boyd asked, holding Louie close by the hips.

“I don’t need to, everything is going to be okay. In fact, I think that everything is going to be… Perfect.”

“Happy Birthday…”

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales fanfic #aged up hdlw #hdl #happy birthday hdl #huey dewey and louie #louyd #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #della duck #fenton crackshell cabrera #boyd gearloose

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amintyworld · 3 years

Text

Sunset - Dream SMP Drabble

WATERFALL (Part one) - SECRETS (PART 3)

A/N: Okay, I’ve decided to make this a 3-parter, so yay! Third part should be coming out later this week. Hope you all enjoy! -Minty

TW: Arguing/fighting, character death mention(?) (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

-----------------------------

Ever since they met at the waterfall, Phil saw Sally around a lot more lately. Not to say he minded it, the girl was very nice and kind, but she fit right into his chaotic family, a little too well. He heard the normal loud crashing through the trees at nine in the morning - Techno sparred when he couldn’t sleep - as he walked downstairs for his morning coffee, yawning a bit. As he poured himself a cup, he took a second to smile as he mouthed ‘3...2...1…’, and then yelling began upstairs that made Phil’s head throb. He rubbed the spot with a sigh as he took another sip.

“STOP STARING AT ME WHEN I SLEEP, YOU WEIRDO-!”

“I’M NOT A WEIRDO, YOU’RE THE WEIRD ONE WHO KEEPS TRYING TO SLEEP IN MY BED!”

“YEAH, WELL I’M JUST TRYING TO PROTECT YOU FROM MONSTERS!”

“TOMMY, MONSTERS CAN’T GET IN HERE!”

The two boys yelled and called for their father, and Philza slowly meandered back upstairs, still half asleep, coffee cup never leaving his hand. He yawned. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Tommy keeps sleeping in MY bed,” Wilbur said harshly. “And I keep waking up to him clinging to me like some weird koala, it’s creepy!”

Tommy glared at his older brother. “Oh, I’M the creepy one?! You’re the one who I wake up to staring at me-!”

“Because you keep sleeping in my bed-!”

Before it broke out into another yelling match, Philza simply raised his hand and the two fell silent - Wilbur crossed his arms as the two brothers just looked to the floor. “Tommy, Wilbur wakes up before you, remember? He’s a light sleeper. When he wakes up and you’re holding onto him like a teddy bear, he can’t exactly move without waking you up, can he?”

Tommy’s eyes furrowed in thought. “Well, but he-”

“Wilbur,” Philza interrupted. “Tommy’s still young, he gets scared. We’re all getting used to sleeping apart, we’re all used to sleeping on the road and huddled together. He just wants to be near you because he loves you.” The two brothers looked at each other. “Now, can the two of you please move past this and try to understand each other?”

Wilbur slowly uncrossed his arms. “Do you really miss me that much?”

Tommy quickly scoffed. “Wha- no!”

“Oh.” Wilbur’s face fell.

“But,” Tommy said, crossing his arms as he stared at the floor. “I do miss hanging out with you and exploring like we used to. You and Sally are so busy now, and I get bored. So I guess, maybe, psychologically, some part of my mind just… subconsciously makes me sleep-walk over here…?”

“Aw, you DO miss me!” Wilbur said, smiling as he pulled Tommy in for a hug. Tommy struggled to get away from his strong grasp.

“I do NOT-!”

Philza smirked from the doorway at the scene, turning and walking off. “Come on down for breakfast when you’re ready-” He chuckled a bit to himself as the two began bantering again, and from the sounds of it Wilbur was trying to take a picture from the number of protests coming from Tommy. He walked downstairs to find Sally sitting at the kitchen table idly, and Philza would admit it was a weird sight, even with the amount of normal strangeness that came about in the house. “Uh, hi...?”

“Oh, hey,” Sally said, turning around a bit quickly. “You startled me.”

“I could say the same thing to you. How’d you get in here...?” He asked, confused, and trying to figure out what possible scenario let the girl wander in.

“Uh, the door was open,” Sally said. “You really need better security.”

No kidding. “Techno may have left it open. It’s kind of early, what are you doing here exactly…?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Didn’t exactly notice the time.”

“Ah, I see,” Philza said cooly, going on to lecture the teen on a proper sleeping schedule while grilling eggs on top of the furnace. The dad was surprised to learn how quickly she’d moved and set up shop in a nearby treehouse she constructed during the night.

“I’m just an expert at moving during the night, it’s the better cover for survival.”

“Smart. But not really healthy.”

“I guess, but safe is better than not in the long run, at least from my experience,” Sally said confidently,

“But you don’t have to run from anything, at least not anymore. This is the safest place to set up shop I’ve seen in miles.” Philza said matter-of-factly. “Now you finally have a home.”

“Home…” Sally repeated with a small laugh. “I haven’t heard that word in a while.”

------------------------------------------

“So, how’d you get that beanie?”

Wilbur sighed as he looked up at the sky, Sally next to him, both soaking wet from a splash fight they had earlier, and now decided to lay on the rocks and dry off in the sun, both of them tired. Wilbur instinctively reached up to touch the soft knitted hat in his hands, fingers fumbling through the fabric in a bit of comfort. “It was a gift... from my Mom. Or, at least, I think it was my Mom.”

Sally sounded curious. “What do you mean? Is Phil not…?”

“He is. I’ve known him for as long as I can remember, there’s no possible way he isn’t. But my Mom… I’ve never met her.” Wilbur said thoughtfully, recalling faded memories.

“Oh, so… how’d you get it if she…?”

Wilbur was quiet for a moment. “It’s not going to make any sense, it doesn’t even make much sense to me if I’m honest. It’s weird anyway-”

“Wil,” Sally said, giving him a comforting smile. “It’s okay. What’s the point of life if everything made sense?” Wilbur couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh?”

“Never.”

The teen took a breath. “The first thing I remember was a voice talking to me. I couldn’t see anything, it was so dark. The voice said it was my Mom, and that her name was Sam. Anyway, for a long time, I couldn’t see anything, but I wasn’t ever really worried. I felt safe as long as my Mom was there, you know? When it got colder she gave me the beanie and my old green sweater, and I know it sounds weird, but with the warmth - it felt like a hug, almost. That’s why I really love my beanie so much, it reminds me of her and her hugs. It’s like even if she isn’t here, she’s here. I miss her a lot, and-”

Sally pulled Wilbur in for a tight comforting hug as Wilbur’s voice hitched. A few tears slid down his cheeks as he returned it, and he mumbled a few ‘thank you’s before continuing.

“One day, she told me that she had to go, that I was going to go be with my Dad and everything was going to be alright. A door opened, and there was Phil. He pulled me close to him, and I remember hearing fizzing... smelling smoke, but he didn’t let me look back. He just grabbed me and left.”

“That must’ve been hard.” Sally said. “Do you ever talk to Philza about it?”

“Sometimes.” Wilbur said honestly. “Other times I feel like it’s something that he just wants to forget and move on from, and from the way he talks about it, I can’t blame him.”

“No wonder that beanie means so much to you.” Sally breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry and bring it up if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no.” Wilbur waved off. “It’s nice to talk about it with someone other than Dad.” He turned to face Sally. “What about you? Anything you keep that means the world to you?”

“No. The way I live, or used to live, only had room for the essentials and nothing else. Putting so much value in an object like that, would only lead to disaster waiting to happen.” Sally said simply. “There’s no use in getting attached to anything when you could lose it.”

“That sounds lonely.” Wilbur said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but that’s surviving.” Sally sighed, laughing a bit bitterly as she sat up. “Stupid logic, isn’t it?”

“It’s not, it’s not.” Wilbur retorted, sitting up as well. His mind wanted to ask who she was running from, but it seemed like she didn’t really want to talk about it right now. He gave her a comforting joking smile. “I bet you had the biggest emo phase-”

Sally’s face lit up in a grin and Wilbur felt his stomach begin to flutter uncharacteristically, a knot forming in his throat as she snorted slightly, playfully swatting. “Yeah, as if you didn’t go full emo - I’ve seen your poetry.”

“How’d you-?!”

“Your brothers know how to get a hold of blackmail like nobody’s business.” She snickered, and Wilbur cursed under his breath. “Awe, come on, I thought it was cute-”

“Cute…?” Wilbur repeated, and the unfamiliar fluttering feeling in his stomach grew more intense.

Sally laughed. “Yeah, like a little hissing kitten-!” The two friends burst out laughing, Wilbur feeling lighter, happier, but also extremely confused.

“Come on you two, dinner!”

“Coming!” Sally called, smirking. “Beanie Boy’s just embarrassed-!”

Beanie boy?

Wilbur could definitely feel the unmistakeable tingling feeling in his stomach as they began to race back to the house for dinner.

-------------------------------------

Wilbur paced in his room as Techno intently listened, pausing to talk and get a word in before quickly realizing he had to wait until his younger brother stopped ranting. He focused on twiddling with his dagger as he listened, sitting on the bed facing a distressed and confused Wilbur,

“And, AND it just keeps getting worse, every time she smiles or laughs I feel like, really, really warm and I don’t know what’s going on because this has never happened before and I can’t talk to her about it because she’ll think I’m weird and I don’t want her to stop being my friend because she’s the only real friend I’ve ever had, and things would be so awkward but I just can’t stop feeling like this and it’s driving me crazy and I just want it to stop-”

Techno let out a breath as he sharpened a stick, not looking up. “Are you done?”

“Y-yes. I think.” Wilbur said as he tapped his foot to release some nervous energy.

“Have you considered, and stop me at any time,” Techno said calmly. “That you might like her more than just a friend?”

Wilbur’s voice was soft and filled with nervousness. “What… what do you mean?”

“Like,” Techno sighed. “Like you want her to be your girlfriend…?” At the mention of girlfriend, Wilbur turned red as a tomato, his mind racing. Did he want that? His mind imagined her snuggling close to him, holding her hand and leaning in to kiss her on the lips-

Wilbur’s face turned redder as he ran his hands through his hair quickly, trying to breathe with the large knot stuck in his throat. Technoblade smirked as he chuckled softly, looking back down at his work.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”

“Y-yes.” Wilbur managed to stutter, giving his brother a nervous smile. Suddenly, Techno’s ears perked up at quiet giggling outside in the hallway, and with a soft throw, he threw the sharpened stick hard against the wall next to the doorway, earning a loud yelp from the other side as Tommy appeared, angry.

“Aw, I missed.” Technobalde said, feigning disappointment.

“You almost stabbed me!” Tommy yelled, but Technoblade glared down at him, making Tommy’s protests quickly quiet.

“And you were eavesdropping on me and Wil.” Techno walked up to the younger, retrieving the stick and talking scarily calm. “Eavesdropping spies get stabbed, them’s the rules.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was… listening.” Tommy defended. “Anyway, i was just trying to help my poor older brother with his ‘woman problems’.”

Wilbur smiled, his nerves beginning to fade away as his mind got distracted. “Yeah, what do you think I should do, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest puffed out with confidence as he strolled over to the bed where Wilbur sat. “Now, Wilbur, in my many years of experience and research on women, I know exactly what you gotta do - you walk up and ask her who her favorite woman is. If she says anything other than the Queen, she’s not real.”

Techno and Wilbur burst out laughing, and Tommy smiled. “As much as I appreciate your advice, I don’t think Sally would like that very much. It’s gotta be romantic.”

Techno’s eyebrows raised. “You’re gonna confess to her…?”

Wilbur pushed down the nervous knot in his throat thickly. “Ye...yeah! It’s better to get everything out in the air, right? Whatever happens, happens. If...if she says no, at least I was honest.”

Techno’s warm smile met Wilbur’s nervous one as he sat down next to his brothers, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “And if she says yes…?”

A flicker of hope glimmered in Wilbur’s chest. If she says yes… His cheeks turned rosy as he took a deep breath. “If she says yes, I think I’ll faint.” He stated as he flopped backwards on the bed, trying to hide his lovestruck gaze and goofy smile at the thought.

“So, it seems we’ve got a date to plan.” Technoblade said as Tommy looked over at his flustered older brother, smiling.

“I knew she was your girlfriend-!”

----------------------------------------------

Wilbur took a deep breath as he walked to meet up with Sally by the waterfall, wearing his nice yellow sweater and signature red beanie, carrying a few sweets he knew she liked from town. As he sat and set up the blanket on a rock overlooking the entire forest, a salmon leaped out of the water, shifting in the air and landing gracefully on the rocks, was Sally - her body and strawberry blonde locks dripping wet. “What’s all this…?”

“I have something I want to show you.” Wilbur smiled. “The perfect view of the sunset.”

“Sunset…?” Sally repeated, looking down at the picnic blanket and few torches lighting the area, the sun about to sink over the horizon.

“Yeah, I wanted to get you something special. I thought ‘what’s the perfect gift for a girl who’s seen everything?’ and I just knew ‘The things she hadn’t been allowed to stop and notice’.”

She sat down quietly, looking in wonder as the sun sank lower, turning the sky an array of breathtaking pinkish purples. “It’s beautiful. How’d you know I-?”

“Lucky guess, maybe a hunch?” Wilbur laughed, his heartbeat in his ears as Sally looked to the sunset in pure awe, the smile on her face the brightest he’d ever seen.

“I can’t believe all of this was just out of view, the entire time.” Sally breathed, looking relaxed and content as a cool breeze blew through her hair. Suddenly, Wilbur noticed a fluffy tail, and were those… ears…?

“Uh, are you shifting, or…?”

Sally went red as she realized what was going on, scrambling to hide her ears and squish them back in her head to no avail. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing-! D-don’t look, okay?! You weren’t meant to-”

“No no, they’re cute!” Wilbur said before he chastised himself for calling her cute.

“They don’t… freak you out at all?”

“No, not really.” Wilbur responded. “I just can’t believe you hid them for this long, how did you even hide something like this-?!”

“It’s painful, but it’s safe. Animal ears and tail are telltale signs of a shifter. While people were chasing me, I had to blend into the crowd so I forcefully shifted them away. It’s exhausting and can hurt me a bit if I’m not careful, but it’s safe.”

“But, you’re not running anymore.”

“I thought you guys would think I’m weird. I wanted to show you, I did, but I just kept putting it off and making excuses so I wouldn’t have to admit I kept it from you at all.”

“You don’t have to hide from me, or anyone else here, I promise, we won’t judge.”

“Thank you.” Sally said. “For this, for giving me a place to be, for being so accepting.”

“Of course.”

Sally yawned a bit and leaned closer to Wilbur’s side, which made his heart leap to his throat as she started out at the sunset, beginning to purr a bit in content, which made Wilbur’s heart flutter. “You know, I’ve heard that the sunset looks like pink lemonade, but it looks more raspberry to me.”

“Raspberry lemonade?”

“Hm, that would taste good.” Sally murmured sleepily, letting out a laugh. “Sorry, all the exhaustion is hitting me, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind.” His hands brushed over her ears amazed at how soft they were. He looked down at Sally, his heart seizing at the sight as the sunset’s glow radiated off her face, and he felt a heat flush his face at the sight as his heart beat loud in his ears. Sweat gathered at the back of his neck as he tapped his fingers nervously on his thigh, seeing the sun almost completely set.

It’s now or never. Don’t chicken out now.

He cleared his throat nervously as he scratched behind his neck. “So uh, I actually wanted to tell you something, something kind of important.”

“Yeah…?”

“I’ve actually been trying to find the right time to tell you for weeks now, looking back it seems kind of obvious and I don’t know how you never noticed, it’s kinda funny really-” Wilbur rambled, dancing around what he needed to say, not knowing if he really had enough courage to say it, could he even say it?

“Wil.” Wilbur looked down to notice Sally’s concerned gaze. “You’re shaking, are you okay?” Her hand squeezed his, and Wilbur’s nerves rose as any words he had began to die in his throat.

“I...I…”

“It’s okay, we’re friends. You can talk to me about anything and everything, okay? I won’t judge.” Her strawberry blonde hair swayed in the breeze as she talked softly and calmly, her usual cocky grin replaced with one that showed pure care. In that moment, Wilbur realized just how scared he was of losing that, of losing being with her and seeing her smile every day. What he was going to say was going to change everything, it was going to risk it all. Wilbur didn’t know if he was willing to risk it, risk losing her.

His mind told him no, told him to back down, that she didn’t like him like he liked her, and that he was going to lose her forever, that she’d hate him. That when he told her she was going to walk out of his life for good and leave him behind drowning in heartache. His heart whispered something else - maybe it was in her face or the way she gripped his hand just enough, or the way she laughed, the way she cared so much about him that it felt… it felt like…

...Love.

His body trembled in nervous fright as his hand rose up to scratch her ears softly, trailing down her face to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear just so, and softly cupped her cheek. The world around the two turned silent as Wilbur’s heart hammered in his chest. “I love you, Sally.”

Sally’s cheeks tinted pink at Wilbur’s words, before turning to a smile and she began giggling. Wilbur’s expression lowered for a moment. She’s laughing at me…

Then, suddenly he was pulled by his yellow sweater to crash their lips together, the movement unstable as they both fell off the rock and crashed into the river below. Though he was falling, Wilbur felt like he was on Cloud Nine. They both crawled into the beach, giddly giggling as their faces flushed with excitement. Wilbur pulled Sally in close and kissed her again, his heart drumming along as the tight nerves in his stomach finally faded. The shifter wrapped her arms around his neck as the two savored the moment, the moon rising behind them.

When they pulled apart for air, Wilbur smirked. “An ‘I love you too’ would’ve been fine-”

“Shut up, Beanie Boy. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” Sally’s cheeks flushed as Wilbur gently took her hand in his.

“Well, we can do it again...” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, as Sally’s face got redder. “My salmon.”

Needless to say, they kissed more than a few times that night.

#young sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc #dream smp #dream smp drabble #sally the salmon #wilbur x sally #dream smp fic #my writing #wilbur soot #philza #tommyinnit #technoblade

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xxisxxisxxis · 3 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Two

Words: 4.3K

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, violence, drug abuse, domestic abuse

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Vivian strikes again.

My leg shakes with each tap of my foot as I impatiently wait for her to come through that door. I've been waiting for nearly forty-five minutes.

Maybe I scared her off with pitching a fit over her not telling me about her miscarriages. But I had a good reason to be upset. Addict or not, I fucking deserved to know what the hell was going on.

"Where's your wife?" Amber asks me, glancing at her watch.

"Hiding more kids from me, probably." I mumble and she raises her brows, staring at me for a moment.

"While we wait for her, can you do me a favor?" She asks and I shrug. "Take a few minutes to try to imagine what having kids during the last four years would have been like with your drug addiction. Because you would still have a drug addiction--babies wouldn't have changed that." She points out. "Honestly," she adds. "Close your eyes, and take some breaths, and just use your imagination as to what having children during these last few years would have done to you, and to your wife.

I take a breath and close my eyes, deciding it probably couldn't hurt to try to wrap my head around being a dad right now, especially with as many as she lost...

1984

...I feel Viv's weight shift from me, her eyes closed, a little hum comes from her when she turns her back to me but still keeps close, her feet tangled with mine, her lions mane of hair still spread out over my pillow as well as hers. Despite being half asleep, myself, I tighten my arms hold just under her ribs and pull her to me before my hand slides over her five-month pregnant stomach.

I lull back to sleep, before I'm woken up merely minutes later by the sound of the baby crying and Vivian pulling herself away from me, putting her robe on to cover her naked body.

She sighs under her breath, mumbling something, and I sit up.

"I can go--"

"--No, I got it." She says, dismissively.

"Vivian, are you still pissed at me?" I ask.

"You ditched me on our anniversary and stayed out all night smoking smack and partying with your moron friends."

"I offered for you to come out with us." I remind her.

"I'm pregnant and we have a daughter here, Nikki. One of us needs to remember that." She adds before stomping out.

I roll my jaw and feel a spiteful twinge in my mind.

Perhaps spiteful, perhaps wanting to chase away the guilt of ditching her last night…

I end up in the bathroom, chasing the dragon, curled under my high while hearing Vivian softly sing hymnals to the six-month old…

I assume she knows exactly where I'm at once she's done, because I hear her walk back to our bedroom and, when she usually comes to find me so she's not by herself, she doesn't come looking for me.

1986

"...No, you idiot, not that…" I say to myself, rubbing my forehead, scribbling out the line of lyrics I've been fighting to get out.

The door of mine and Viv's bedroom is soon bursting at the hinges, allowing me to fully hear Pierce crying while Frannie and Johnny come rushing into the room, squealing.

"Hey, hey, hey!" I stop them before they can crawl under the bed. "What's goin' on?" I ask them, slowly hiding the Jack bottle in my bass case.

I spent last night freebasing and I'm still trying to coax myself down.

Frannie looks at me with sharp green eyes, her brown hair knotty looking from wallowing on the living room carpet earlier...Johnny, brown eyes and red hair, just puts his attention on the pissed off Vivian that's stalking her way in here with the baby.

"Um," Frannie starts, trying to think up her excuse.

"Francesca and Johnathan tried to tote Pierce off again." Vivian states, eyeing the two toddlers with daggers, and they slowly sink down to try to use me as a human shield.

"He's a new baby, Viv, they don't mean any harm. They just--"

"--Okay, well maybe if you put the bass down and actually come in here and help me out, you can supervise them while they 'hold' him, since I'm trying to start on dinner." She states.

I glance at the kids and then at her…

"Or you can stare at me like an idiot, too." She mumbles, going to shut the door as she says, "You have no issue knocking me up but won't help me with them once they're out."

I roll my jaw and grab my bottle of Jack, putting my bass back.

What the fuck?

If it wasn't for me writing songs, the band wouldn't have new material, which would mean no new album, which would mean no money--not enough to support her and three fuckings kids, anyway, so she should be thanking me for still wanting to provide for my fucking family. Because anybody else with three kids in two years would be putting a bullet through their skull.

"C'mon, guys," I say to Frannie and Johnny, and they follow me out, Frannie reaching up to grab my hand.

I put old cartoons on the TV while Viv puts Pierce down to sleep once he's drifted off.

On her way out of the nursery, I'm stopping her in the hallway, my hand grasping her arm in a tight hold, roughly tugging her into the guest bathroom, cracking the door.

I've got her against the counter, hand around her throat, gasping little breaths pushing past her lips for a moment as I say, "if you ever talk to me like that in front of my fucking kids again, I'll give you plenty to bitch about." I promise her, lowly, and she just looks up at me and nods.

"Now turn around." I say next and she glances at the door.

"Nikki, we don't have tim--"

"--They're watching TV. Turn around." I repeat and she grins a little, licking her lips and turns to face the mirror.

I'm unzipping my pants, yanking her shorts down and pushing her panties to the side before grabbing a fist full of her hair and sliding it in, tilting my head back and grinning as she makes little whimpers in an attempt to keep from being loud.

We've mastered the art of 'a good time in a short time,' and once we've both had our release, I'm zipping my pants back up, and she's still bent over the sink, hands white knuckling the edge of the counter, hair in her face, bite marks on her shoulders, cum down her shaking legs, trying to catch her breath.

I kiss the place between her shoulder blades, the back of her neck, her hair, my hand getting her hair from her face to look at her in the mirror.

She's looking at me with a little smile, right before, "I'm pregnant again," comes out and shatters my post-orgasm buzz.

My knuckles sting as blood rolls down my fist, glass falling onto the counter, sink, and floor, when I drive my fist past her and into the mirror.

She just hangs her head and I'm getting out, feeling the walls of the bathroom caving in on me.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Frannie asks as I grab my keys and my jacket.

"Nothing, Frannie. Daddy's going out, alright?" I tell her. "When mommy gets in here give her a big hug." I add, seeing Johnny's too enthralled with Charlie Brown to notice I'm even leaving.

I kiss her head and I'm out the door before Vivian gets out of the bathroom.

I swear the only thing keeping us together is the fact that when divorce is an unspoken thought for either of us, she gets pregnant.

I'm twenty-seven years old and I have a two year old, a one year old, a two month old, and now she's fucking knocked up again?!

How the hell is that even possible? Don't chicks need like six months for their bodies to reset after popping kids out or something? Jesus I married a PEZ dispenser with a never ending supply of eggs.

By the time I get to where I'm going, I already regret it.

Incense, crack fumes and perfume suffocate me as soon as she opens the door in her bra and panties.

Not necessarily in a sexy way--more so in a higher than a kite and disheveled type of way.

Which is perfectly fine with me because I don't need 'sexy' right now. I just need to get outta my head.

Despite that, though, clothes come off, we end up on the living room floor, and instead of smoking a cigarette once we're finished, we opt for more erasure.

"She's pregnant again." I confess to Tansy out of nowhere after breathing out some smoke, my mind getting pushed aside, the crawling of my skin starting to settle.

Blue eyes look at me as I hand it over before her greedy hands snatch it.

"What?" She asks me.

"Vivian's pregnant." I repeat.

"I am, too." She says it so seriously that I look at her for a second, before seeing the very corner of her lips tug for a millisecond.

"You're bullshitting me?"

"I'm bullshitting you." She says, giggling, and

I start ranting about it, my words getting more and more jumbled and lost the more hits of the pipe I take, until I'm not even worried about Vivian due to the paranoia that ensues.

I get home at 5:00a.m….the day after the next. How low do I have to be to continuously go her best friend and my own moronic self pity? I don't know.

I shut the door to the house and put my shit down, nearly tripping when I try to take my boots off.

I'm on Halcions and Jack, and I think they're starting to kick in because I'm fucking exhausted.

I glance at the living room scattered with toys and rub my face.

I get it: "Mötley Crüe, don't give a fuck, fuck precautions, fuck all of it," but come on, man.

How the hell could you be so fucking reckless?

I walk into our room, the lamp on Viv's night side table on while she's got one long leg out of the covers, laying on her stomach, arms under her pillow, the covers falling just enough to cover the tops of her thighs and her ass, her back and the side of her chest peeking out, exposed.

She looks fucking beautiful.

Oh, yeah, that's how the hell I could be so reckless.

I go rinse off in the shower for a second to try to wash away Tans and the drugs...maybe even guilt….

When I'm done, I peek out of the bathroom to see that she's still asleep, and I turn off her lamp and crawl into bed, closing my eyes for a moment.

I feel her move closer to me before her lips are pressing to my cheek, hands running over my chest gently before she lays down, throws her leg over my stomach, and rests her cheek on my chest.

"Are you still mad at me?" She questions softly, and I let out a breath.

"I'm mad at myself, Viv." I mumble.

"Oh." She replies quietly. "I would get on birth control but it wouldn't react well with my Nardil."

"You mean the Nardil you aren't taking anyway?"

She's silent.

"Honestly at a point where I don't even want to have sex anymore because you're gonna end up getting pregnant." I add, gruffly.

"Oh, come on, Nikki." She scoffs, not believing me.

"I'm serious, Vivian. I'm tired of being a fucking baby mill."

"Oh you're the baby mill? You just get your rocks off and I'm the one carrying the thing for nine months but you're the victim here?"

She sits up and glares at me.

"Yes! I am!" I argue. "You have this weird thing with cum that I've always thought was hot but now I'm starting to realize you're just trying to boulder me down."

"Nikki, you've made it very clear that marriage and babies aren't bouldering you down. You still go out and party and do your drugs and your day drinking--you were just gone for over a day...so I don't want to hear, 'you're bouldering me down,' because I'm not. If you wanna leave, then leave." She snaps.

I roll my eyes and she goes back to her side of the bed and turns away from me, before she snatches all the covers away from me.

I'm too tired for it so I just pass out.

1987

"Nikki!" Doc is banging away at my door, making me snarl to myself before capping my needle and hiding it under my pillow.

"What?!" I bark out, going to the door.

I swing it open, naked, aside from stained underwear, to see Vivian and my whole litter of kids.

"S-Surpise!" Viv tries to keep her tone light and cheery for the five kids around her, our brand new girls in her arms.

I don't know how to react except to shut the door in their faces and angrily get my shit together.

I'm out of the shower and dressed in the next hour, taking the smallest hit from the needle I hid, just as a maintenance dose, before I'm heading to Doc's room--where I'm assuming he took them when they realized I wasn't coming back out.

I knock on the door and Viv opens it, looking up at me.

"Suprise!" I mimic how she greeted me earlier, and she scowls at me and goes to slam the door in my face, but I'm stopping it with my hand and shoving it open.

"Daddy!" Frannie, Johnny, and Pierce come running to me and I'm getting down and letting them attack me, wrapping my arms around them. Pierce is nearly two, now, and he's nearly as tall as Frannie.

Dannie is walking cautiously to me, smiling at me and I meet him halfway and pick him up, kissing his cheek as I go over to the little babies Doc's supervising, one a replica of me, the other of Viv…

I lean down and kiss both of them, making them smile and kick their feet, excitedly.

I wasn't there with them when they were born.

I go over to Vivian, who's got her arms crossed, her jaw clenched.

"Does Daddy get a kiss from Mommy, too?" I ask.

"Daddy doesn't have to fuss at mommy for having more babies anytime soon because daddy isn't gonna get to be in the same bed as mommy for a long time." She replies.

"Mommy seems to forget that the last three babies weren't even made in a bed." I reply.

"Do you guys wanna few minutes alone? I can get Fred, Emi and Donna down here to help me." Doc offers and I look at him.

"That's out of character and nice of you." I state suspiciously.

"Despite you being an asshole, your kids aren't." He shrugs and I roll my eyes.

I kiss all of them bye for a couple hours, and put Dannie down before tugging at Viv's hand once Fred and the girls get here...I see Donna and feel guilty…one of the chicks I cheated on my wife with is taking care of our kids…

When we get to a new room--mines so out of wack I don't want Viv to pass out--we do what we do best and in the aftermath, small talk in between breaks of making out, Vivian drops the ball.

"I know you've been seeing her." She tells me out of nowhere when my lips press to her neck, quietly.

My body tenses up.

"What?" I sit up and she does, too.

"There's no need to be shocked that I found out--we both know you wanted me to find out. Why the hell else would you leave letters you two write back and forth with each other, out in our closet where you know I'd find them?"

I just look at her.

"You and Tansy, Nikki." She states, tears in her eyes. "Why the hell have you done this to me, Nikki? She's my best friend?"

Is she serious?

I get out of bed and pull my pants on, ignoring her.

"I'm not shocked, you know, I always knew you'd be a deadbeat husband and a deadbeat dad, just like your father."

I start clapping slowly, really appreciating her performance.

"Bravo, Vivian, really, you should get a fucking award for those tears." I state, fed up. "It's gotta be theatrics because what sense would it make for you to be genuinely upset I've been hooking up with Tansy, when you and Robbin have been seeing each other for two fucking years, now?!"

Her eyes widen, she looks like a deer in headlights...which just confirms it all the more to me.

"How fucked up do you have to be to cheat on your husband with his fucking brother, while pregnant with his fucking kid?" I ask and she takes heavy breaths, obviously trying to get her temper under control. "Not to mention that I'm starting to question if Dannie is even mine being as he looks nothing like me."

She's slapping the piss out of me, tears streaming down her face.

I rub at the stinging hot skin of my cheek and roll my jaw, staring at her a few seconds, before shoving her back to the bed, grabbing her shoulders, getting in her face while shouting, "you stupid fucking bitch, I fucking hate, you ruined my fucking life!"

She's sobbing now, her head turned, mascara staining her cheeks as I push myself off of her and trudge to the door.

"Cheating on me for two goddamn years, you fucking whore, who the hell do you think you are?! I can have kids with anybody, I can have anybody I want, but I fucking chose you and this is how you repay me?! Fuck you! There's a million fucking yous out there!" I throw a bottle at her and it misses by a couple inches and she sits up, trying to stand up as I open the door.

"I'm getting my fucking kids away from you, you fucking crazy cunt!" I call and she's rushing out, wearing my t-shirt to cover herself up, grabbing my hand and yanking me to a halt before I can start to Doc's room.

"You're not touching my kids, Nikki, I swear to God I'll fucking kill you, don't touch my fucking kids! You're fucking stoned!" She threatens me and I turn.

"Oh, you'll kill me?!" I bow up at her and she punches me, her ring cutting my cheek, before she's hitting me again.

She goes for a third time but I block her and shove her down, kicking her as hard as I can in the ribs, knocking the breath out of her.

"Don't fucking touch me, you fucking slut." I smear the blood from my cheek, banging on Doc's door as she crawls a few feet before managing to pull herself up, resting against the wall, coming towards me.

The door opens and I see Emi with Pierce in her arms.

I don't say a word to her, I just grab him and smile at him, bouncing him a little, as I say, "Frannie, John, c'mon!"

Of course they come, not realizing what's happening.

Until Vivian's trying to pry Pierce from my hands.

"Let go of my baby!" She screams at me, trying to bat me away from him while he starts whining.

She hits me with her closed fist in my ear and I lose it, punching her so hard she hits the ground, Frannie and John immediately start crying upon seeing their mother bloody and dismayed.

The door opens more to reveal Doc as Emi looks at me, horrified, pulling John and Frannie back inside before Doc's snatching Pierce from me.

"What the hell is going on?!" Doc shouts as guests peek their heads out of their doors.

It's as if my demons give me the reins back and split, leaving me to look down at my beat up wife, crying, hearing my traumatized kids crying out behind the door.

I just stumble back, my back hitting the wall before I'm sliding down it to the floor, staring off as Doc continues to yell at me...

...I blink, being pulled back to reality, staring down at the floor of Amber's office.

I'm not sure if we had kids by then, if Viv would have stayed or left. I'm not sure why I imagined I would've been with Tansy and not Vanity, why she would have had an affair with Robbin and not Duff...maybe I knew, subconsciously, that us having children at that time would have changed the way everything happened between us.

"I guess it was for the best." I reply to her, finally, looking at her.

"Everything happens for a reason." She assures me. "There is a reason she didn't have any babies in the past four years."

"Okay, wise one, is there any reason she isn't here today?"

VIVIAN

"...Mom, and my brother Jon, my sister Carol, my brother Mark, my brother Bruce, my sister Joan, my other sister Claudia, and that's Matt--you know Matt," he glances at me and I nod, looking at the picture of the family, "And then there's me." He points to a toddler and I grin, looking at him. "My dad didn't wanna be in the picture, which I'm glad he wasn't because I would've cut him out if it, anyway when he left, so…" he shrugs, looking at it another moment. "Alright, let me show you to your room." He wiggles his brows and I giggle as he picks up my suitcase and leads me back down a hallway.

"This is Joan's old room, obviously been redecorated because it's not covered in ABBA and Cher ." He mumbles.

"I heard that!" Joan says from the living room.

"No ya didn't!" He replies, smiling at me, putting my suitcase on the bed. "Everybody's coming over for dinner tonight so you have time to take a nap, get comfortable, whatever." He shrugs and I nod.

"Okay." I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

"I'm gonna go help my mom and Joan start cooking." He adds.

"I can hel--"

"--You didn't sleep at all on the way up here, Viv."

"Because I wasn't tired." I lie and he looks at me.

"Take a nap." He tells me, moving the suitcase off of my bed.

"Fine." I roll my eyes.

"Love you." He leaves me, shutting the door and I get on the bed, getting comfortable, and wondering what Nikki's doing right now...he's probably shitting a brick.

After an hour, the door is opening and Duff's squeezing my fuzzy sock covered feet, making me laughs and yank my legs away from him.

I haven't slept, but I've rested enough that I don't feel as sluggish.

"You stink." I wrinkle my nose when he lays beside me.

"Onions." He replies. "Joan kicked me out for chasing her around with the raw chicken." He adds.

"And now raw chicken juice is on my feet?" I ask.

"No, I washed my hands." He assures me.

"Okay." I chuckle, rubbing my lips together.

"Who all's coming to dinner?" I ask, next. "Jon, Bruce, Claudia, and my buddy Andy." He informs me. "Matt's coming up to go out for breakfast with me, you, Andy, and Joan tomorrow morning, and later this week we're gonna have a barbecue and you'll get to meet everybody, including my nieces and nephews." He adds and I raise my brows.

"That's a lot of people." I reply, raising my brows.

"Very big family." He agrees.

"It's weird." I say next and he furrows his brows. "Not like that, just...I don't know I'm used to being the only child, no cousins, no aunts or uncles--well, aside from aunt Lily--Nikki's not real close to his family, so we just...we're not really big on family." I shrug. "Well, dad is, he's always wanted more kids and a big family, I think, but my mom didn't so he didn't press her about it since she was ultimately the one who'd be carrying them." I add.

"Do you want anymore kids?" He asks me and I let out a breath.

"I'm not sure…" I trail off. "...I'd like to, but I don't know. I haven't thought about it, much." I lie and he nods.

"Do you want anymore kids?" I ask him.

"I do at some point, I don't think Mandy wants to, though. She says being a step-mom at the age of twenty-five is enough." He tells me.

"Maybe she'll change her mind." I say.

"She didn't want any kids when we first dated, so I think the only reason she's even making leeway for a stepchild is because she loves me."

"It says a lot about her if she's willing to do that, though. A lot of women would've left."

"Yeah, she's cooler about it than I thought she'd be." He agrees. "What did Nikki do when you first told him?"

"He cried." I admit. "Like, a lot."

"That's understandable." He says lowly.

"Yeah, it is." I nod. "He's okay with it, now, though. He's not mad at either of us. I think he's more upset with himself about the whole thing."

It's quiet for a few minutes before I get up enough courage to ask him, "are you happy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like...you know...our break up, and then you and Mandy are engaged now and I'm pregnant…"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, no, I'm great, Viv." He assures me, sounding genuine. "I don't know, things are a mess and crazy right now but I feel like it's falling into place at the same time, you know?"

I nod, smiling softly…

…I bought it for that moment.

I realized he was lying to himself the next morning at breakfast when he told the waitress to bring him a screwdriver--a triple--and, "just keep 'em coming."

#gateway drug #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction

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lizardkingeliot · 3 years

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First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!

#the magicians #queliot #otp: proof of concept #myfic

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just-my-sickly-pride · 4 years

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The Night Comes Down || Brian May x fem!Reader x Roger Taylor

summary || one of the first rules you’d ever made with brian, your friends-with-benefits, eight months ago, was that anyone could back out of the arrangement at any time, for whatever reason, and then everything would go back to normal. back to how it was. and that’s fine. you have no problem with that. you’re fine. you’re so fine. it’s... fine.

rating || no smut, but some implied explicit content. warning: there is a brief scene where reader is being heavily pressured into kissing someone at a party.

word count || 9.7k

author’s notes || all good things must come to an end! so i’ve been working on this series for over a year. how did that even happen?? anyway yes this is the end of the try series. no it’s not a happy ending. i debated back and forth for a long time whether to end the series or not, but it felt too weird not to. and i couldn’t figure out any reasonable ‘happy’ way for it to end. a big big big thank you to everyone who’s stuck with me for this entire journey, or part of this journey, or even if you’re just tuning in now - thank you! and if you’re still somehow invested in this little ’verse after all this time, don’t abandon me just yet 👀 p.s. i think i’ve ironed out most of the timeline issues but don’t look too closely. this series is not my proudest in terms of continuity

masterlist

tag list: @the-huttslayer @scorpiogemini @redspecialty @supersonicfreddie @killer-queen-xo @a-night-at-the-0pera @rogerscupboard

Part of you had known it was inevitable. Another part of you liked to pretend that it wasn’t. But it was.

It still felt like it had come out of nowhere, though.

Brian was watching you cautiously, adjusting the grip on his laptop and workbook. “Did you… want to say anything, or…?”

“Um…” You blinked a couple times, and shook your head. “Uh, no, I’m just… surprised?”

“I feel like I’ve mentioned her a few times,” Brian said.

“Once or twice, maybe,” you said. “I didn’t know that you and her…”

“Yeah.” Brian scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, we hooked up, like, two weeks ago, and then again a few nights ago, and we’ve been talking every day, so.”

“Oh.” It sounded twisted, wonky, but you forced a smile onto your face, wondering why you felt so… uncomfortable hearing about this. “That’s great. And you like her?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Brian said, and his voice sounded warm, and he had a little smile on his face, and something ugly and strange twisted in your gut. “And I want to take her on an actual date, but obviously, I’d feel a bit weird about it if I still had, y’know. A, uh, side arrangement. But you’re all right?”

“Of course,” you said brightly. Side arrangement. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? That’s great, Brian, really. I’m – really glad you’ve found someone.”

“It’s been a while, that’s for sure,” Brian said with a chuckle.

“Are you going to tell Rog?”

Brian frowned a little. “Um, no, I don’t think that’s necessary. I never had – anything with him. And he’s already met Dani, so.”

“Oh!” Ah, Christ, that had sounded dreadful, even to your own ears. “Where– Where’d he meet her?”

“The other day.” Brian gave you a sheepish smile. “The morning after. She ran into him in the kitchen.”

You pushed a strained laugh out of you. “Oh, right, yeah, great.”

Brian chuckled as well. “Yeah, it was a little awkward, but what can you do, right?”

You swallowed, and nodded. Your face hurt from smiling.

“You’ll love her,” Brian said. “She’s wonderful. She’s so smart, and funny, and she’s so pretty. I mean, so pretty. Absolutely beautiful. Completely knocked my socks off when I first saw her. Can’t believe she fancies me.”

“Great,” you said. You were saying great too much. “She sounds–” Don’t. “–so great.”

“She is.” Brian beamed. “You’ll have to meet her soon.”

“I’m sure I will,” you said.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Brian said. He sighed happily. “Well, I should head off.”

“Yeah, course,” you said. “Me too.”

“I’ll message you,” Brian said. “We can arrange a dinner at the flat or something.”

“Can’t wait!”

Brian smiled, nodded in satisfaction, and then said, “All right, see you later.”

“Bye!” You turned around and hurried away, in the opposite direction you needed to go.

Hmm. Huh. Right. Okay. So. Brian just. He just.

You went to the food court and sat down at the first available seat you could find.

You took out your phone and immediately went to message Veronica.

Brian just

Your thumbs paused.

He just what? He just found someone he wanted to date, and ended his arrangement with you. On paper, not that big of a deal. It was part of the unwritten contract of it all: any person was allowed to end things for whatever reason, and there would be no consequences. A rule you had written yourself, all those months ago.

Side arrangement. Side piece. Dirty secret. Not as good as the real thing. Not as funny or smart or pretty or wonderful or beautiful as Danielle.

You froze. Whoa, where had that come from?

You weren’t jealous. You couldn’t have been jealous. You’d never wanted to date Brian. You still didn’t want to date Brian. You didn’t have a crush on him, and you never had. Brian didn’t break up with you.

So what the everloving fuck was going on in your head right now?

You put your phone away. Nope, you couldn’t go crying to Veronica for no damn reason. This had always been bound to happen, and now it had, so you just needed an hour or so to process it, and then things would be fine. You’d go back to normal.

Your idea of ‘normal’ seemed to greatly differ from Brian’s.

You didn’t hear from him for a week. Whereas before you’d talked every other day, he went almost totally radio silent. Every meme or message you sent was either seen and ignored, or responded to with a vague Haha or a thumbs-up.

You met up with Roger on your usual catch-up night, but you hadn’t gotten very far into anything before he stopped and said, “You’re not really feeling it, are you?”

You made a face. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He passed your shirt to you, and he fetched his from the floor and slipped it on. “So… Brian has a date tomorrow night.”

You frowned. “He does?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t tell you about it?”

You looked down at your hands. “Um, no. He didn’t. I haven’t heard much from him, actually. After he… ended… things.”

“Whoa,” Roger said, climbing onto the bed. “Wait, really? With you?”

You nodded, and suddenly felt your throat close over. But you were not going to fucking cry about it, Jesus Christ. You swallowed it down, and gave Roger a mild look of interest. “Yeah. I didn’t even know he liked Dani, and then I ran into him at uni last week, and he just sort of said, ‘Hey, while I’m here,’ and then that was it. But I didn’t know the date was tomorrow night. He didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sure he was just distracted,” Roger said. “He gets like that with a girl he likes.” He shook his head. “Damn, he must be serious about her.”

“Yeah, must be.”

Roger paused, and then said, “Are you… okay?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno, it’s a pretty big… thing to have ended.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said lightly, giving him a smile. “We’re still friends. And I’ve still got you, right?”

“Yeah,” Roger said, although he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“Yeah. So I’m good.” You sighed, willing away all the gross mess of emotions you were feeling. “I’m not really feeling going all the way, but making out sounds good, if you’re down.”

Luckily, that immediately distracted Roger, and he didn’t ask any further questions. And you poured everything you had into your kisses, hoping it would distract you, too.

You were hoping things would settle down for you, emotionally, over the next two weeks or so.

But that didn’t happen. Everything grew to be so much worse. Exponentially. You didn’t know whether you hated Brian, or Dani, or hated them as a couple, or if you just hated yourself. You couldn’t bear to be in the same room as the two of them, and you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to Dani. The thought of trying to be friends with her turned your stomach. She wasn’t particularly annoying, and she wasn’t a bad person in any way, but just something about her face and her voice and her fucking presence in your life just infuriated you.

You couldn’t get the idea out of your head that she looked like a mouse. Or a rat. Small pointy nose, big dark eyes, slight buck teeth. She was curvy, and at least a foot shorter than Brian, although it was hard to tell with the heels and platforms she always wore. Her hair was browny-blonde and long and thick, and she wore it slicked back in a pony, like Ariana Grande. Her ears glittered with delicate piercings. She liked to draw on freckles.

She was pretty. For a rat.

You did your best to hide how you felt about her. You thought you should’ve gotten a freaking Oscar for how well you hid it. At least from Brian. On the rare occasion that Dani wasn’t by his side, you let him talk about her, and did your best to seem encouraging.

There was a part of you – a bigger part than you wanted to admit – that believed they were going to break up soon enough. Then things could go back to normal, and this weird hiccup could be forgotten.

But they didn’t break up. They stayed together.

And so you ended up ranting about it all to Veronica. You knew you were really going on about it, and somehow you kept finding things to say about the situation when you knew there was nothing really more to say. Veronica listened, to a degree. But her advice was sensible and responsible and mature and you really didn’t feel like being any of those things. You wanted to throw a goddamn tantrum.

So you turned to Roger. Thank God for his high sex drive.

He wasn’t completely clueless. You had an air of desperation about you that you knew he could sense, and knowing that was almost enough to make you draw away from him, too.

Almost. But he always took such good care of you. It was selfish to keep asking him to meet up, but you felt like you would explode if you didn’t.

About a month after Brian and Dani had started dating, you and Roger were making out on the couch. It was rough, as sex frequently had been these past few weeks, and Roger’s grip on your waist was bruising as you rocked against him. Things were moments away from moving to the bedroom, when the front door opened unexpectedly.

You quickly looked up, a deer in headlights, and your stomach dropped.

“Oh, sorry,” Brian mumbled, ducking his head.

“No, it’s fine,” you said, and you’d tried to go for nonchalant, but your voice came out too sharp.

Roger tilted his head back. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Brian said. You watched as he kicked his shoes off and chucked his keys on the kitchen table.

“Sorry,” he said again, shooting you a quick glance. “I’ll just, uh…”

He hurried to his room.

There you were, looking already thoroughly debauched, on his couch, in Roger’s lap, and Brian had just ducked his head and ran.

You stared after him, your heart twisting around itself. He hadn’t even… He didn’t…

Once, he would have taken one look at you and pounced on you. He would’ve begged to kiss you, would’ve torn your clothes off.

Now, he acted like he’d walked in on Roger having a one-night stand with some girl he’d picked up at a bar. He acted like he’d never even been attracted to you at all.

Was it really so easy for him to move on? Were you really that forgettable?

“You all right?” Roger asked, his thumb touching your bottom lip.

You snapped to look at him. Shit, how much had you let on? “Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Just lost in my thoughts, nothing important.”

“You sure?” Roger asked.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Mm-hm. How about you take me to your room and fuck all those stupid little thoughts out of me?”

Roger paused for a moment, like he wanted to say something more, but your tongue darted out, lapping at the pad of his thumb, and you kept your eyes on his as you licked his thumb into your mouth. You watched, half excited, half relieved, as his eyes glazed over, his gaze fixated on your lips around his thumb.

It sickened you to even think about it, but you definitely had a little voice in the back of your head that hoped Brian could hear Roger fucking you.

“We should hang out,” you said to Brian. Just over a month, now. Final exams were breathing down everyone’s necks. It didn’t help your situation. “I feel like I never get to see you anymore. You’re with your girlfriend all the time.”

You’d run into him at uni. That was almost the only way you got to see him these days. And he no longer hugged you hello or goodbye, just kept a firm, amicable amount of distance between you.

He didn’t often look you in the eye these days, either. He shifted about whenever you talked, like he wanted to be somewhere else.

“Mm, yeah, maybe,” he said.

You swallowed down the hurt. “How about a movie night? Or we could just hang out, just the two of us.”

“Um.” Brian scratched his nose. “I’m pretty busy at the moment. Maybe we could do a group thing? That’d be fun. Me and Dani, John and Veronica, you and Rog.”

You frowned. “Me and Rog?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not together.”

Brian shrugged. “I just thought– Well, I think it’d be nice. You two suit each other.”

“We don’t want to be a couple, Brian. What are you on about?”

“I just think it’d be good for you, that’s all. Being in a relationship is, well, really nice, and I think maybe you and Rog should at least give it a go.”

You were gobsmacked. You wanted to throw something, yell a stern reminder of, Hey, are you fucking stupid? Do you not remember the past eight months of our lives where you seemed perfectly content to not be in a relationship? Remember how many times the two of us were hounded by our friends about dating? You fucking hypocrite.

But you didn’t say any of that. There was an unspoken rule that neither of you ever brought up your old arrangement. It was as if it had never existed.

Most of the time, it seemed like Brian wished it hadn’t. Like it was some embarrassing secret.

“Well, we don’t want that, so you can mind your own business,” you said. “And where does Freddie fit into your little equation, anyway?”

Brian shrugged again. “He could bring a date along as well, I don’t know.”

“We’re not going on a– a quadruple date. Jesus.”

“Just an idea,” Brian muttered.

“You can still hang out with friends without your girlfriend, you know.”

Brian sighed. “Okay. Well.”

You sighed as well, gathering yourself. You tried again. “What about a party, or something? We haven’t been to a party in forever.”

Brian hesitated. “Well, one of Dani’s friends is having a party this weekend.”

Not exactly what you’d meant. “Maybe a little group of us could go?” you suggested. “If Dani’s all right with it? That could be fun.”

Brian nodded to himself. “Yeah,” he said mildly. “Yeah, that could work. I’ll ask her.”

“Great,” you said with a smile that you most certainly had to force onto your face. You began making a quick retreat, not waiting for him to formulate an excuse. “Text me, okay?”

“Yep,” he said, and you could tell he was already forgetting about it completely.

But, to your surprise, that weekend, you got a text from him. Dani said it’s all right if you and the others want to come along.

Your lip curled. It hardly sounded like Brian wanted any of you there. great, you replied. pres at yours?

I’ll actually be having pres at Lachlan’s, Brian sent. He’s one of Dani’s friends. But I’ll send you the details of the party and I’ll see you there.

But no one else wanted to come.

“No thanks,” Roger grumbled. “I’ve met some of Dani’s friends. They’re all complete wankers.”

“But I don’t want to go alone,” you whined.

“Ask Freddie. He’s always down for a good time.”

I can’t darling, Freddie texted. work early the next day. they said if I turn up hung-over or still drunk one more time they’ll fire me

u don’t have to get that drunk, you replied hopefully. just drink a bit and then go home early

then what would be the point of going lol?? Freddie sent.

“Sorry,” Veronica said. “Studying.”

You sulked. “You can’t afford to take a break just for a couple hours?”

“No. And, honestly, I don’t want to enable whatever thing you’re going through right now. I think getting drunk around Brian would be a bad idea.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “I just want an excuse to hang out as friends, okay? That’s all. It’s not enabling, it’s supporting.”

Veronica made a sound that told you she disagreed. You huffed and gave up. What did she know, anyway?

“Hey, Dea–”

“I’m not going to that party tonight,” John cut in smoothly, not even looking up from his textbook.

“But–”

“I’d rather sever my own foot.” He glanced up at you, giving you an apologetic half-smile. “Sorry. I just can’t stand being around Brian and Dani. They’re insufferable.”

At least that you could agree with.

everyone else is busy, you texted Brian. You bit your lip, debating whether to ask, but, damn it, fuck it all – can I come to lachlan’s pres and go with u guys?

It took him two hours to reply. Yeah, sure.

You felt sick. This was a bad idea.

It was by far too much trouble for what it was worth to get to Lachlan’s. You were terrified of turning up before Brian and Dani, so you arrived two and a half hours after when you were meant to be there.

That was better. It was easier to rock up when everyone was already pissed.

And they were very much pissed. Lachlan answered the door. He was tall and stocky, with brown hair and blue eyes. The sort of guy who looked like he’d played some kind of contact sport in high school, probably football, but now didn’t have a regular training schedule, and so was slowly losing the muscle he’d once had, replacing it with beer and burgers. The sort of guy who’d lose all of his hair by the time he was thirty-five, and get married so he’d have someone to get his beers for him when he was watching the game with the boys. The sort of guy who wanted kids because he liked the thought of telling people he had a couple of boys, rather than actually wanting to be a father.

Or maybe you were making a snap-judgement.

You introduced yourself, and he gave you a lopsided, skeezy grin, letting you into his place. “You here all on your own?” he asked.

Your shoulders tensed. “No,” you said. “I’m a friend of Brian’s. Dani’s new boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, I know that. But you don’t have anyone to bring along with you?”

“Not tonight,” you said vaguely. “Busy schedules. Finals aren’t too far away, and all that.”

“Yeah, sick,” Lachlan said, looking you up and down. “Well.” He gestured with his beer to the crowd. “Make yourself at home.” He shot you another grin that made your hands grow clammy. “I’m glad Dani brought you along. Can’t wait to get to know you.”

You gave him an uneasy smile in return, and frantically looked for Brian and Dani. You found them – Dani was sitting on Brian’s lap, yuck – and fled from Lachlan.

“Hi,” you said.

“Oh, hey,” Brian said, and you could tell right off the bat he’d had a bit to drink already. His hand was splayed over Dani’s thigh, holding her to him, and you couldn’t bear to look at it. “Thought you weren’t gonna come.”

“I’m just late,” you said. “Hello, Dani.”

She gave you a polite smile, but didn’t try to engage in conversation.

Brian didn’t even notice. He squeezed Dani a little bit closer. “Well, you gonna drink?” he said.

Yes. Yes, you were. You held up your plastic bottle filled with Sprite and too much vodka. “Yep.”

Brian gave you a thumbs-up.

Dani turned to him. “Just need to go to the bathroom, baby,” she murmured, tapping his hand.

“All right, baby,” Brian murmured back, and you only just stopped yourself from making a face. The word baby sounded clunky, uncomfortable coming from Brian. “Be careful.”

Dani leant in for a kiss, and you turned away, uncapping your bottle and taking a decent swig, grimacing at the burn.

Brian didn’t like pet names. You knew he didn’t like pet names. And yet this ‘baby’ thing had sprung out of nowhere, and it drove you up the fucking wall.

You listened until the sound of Dani’s heels against the floorboards faded before you spoke. “‘Be careful’,” you muttered.

“What?” Brian said.

“She’s just walking to the toilet,” you said. “Not like she’s gonna get assaulted on the way.”

Brian looked mildly annoyed. “I just don’t want her to trip and fall over and hurt herself. She’s a lightweight, and she’s wearing heels. I’m just… trying to be a good boyfriend.”

You sighed. “Yeah, okay,” you said, not wanting to hear a word of it. You took another hefty swig of your drink. “I think I’ll, um, join the rest of the party.”

So much for hanging out with Brian. You wanted to be near him, wanted to talk to him, but you couldn’t bear it for more than five minutes.

You knew what it was – you wanted to talk to him how you used to. But you couldn’t do that anymore. Instead you had some weird, watered-down version of the Brian you knew.

You joined in half-heartedly with a few drinking games, but quickly discovered that you weren’t really in the mood for getting smashed anyway.

Brian and Dani stayed in their own little corner, giggling and whispering with each other, kissing and cuddling and being generally disgusting.

You didn’t even think they’d bother coming to the actual party. But they did, and the group of fifteen or so people in Lachlan’s sharehouse all staggered along the street for about ten minutes to get to the main event.

You’d managed to get along well enough with some of the girls, and Lachlan wouldn’t leave you alone, so you had no choice but to socialise. Which was good, in a way, because you lost Dani and Brian as soon as you walked into the party.

Not that you particularly liked the girls you were talking to. Everyone just had such a weird vibe, like they weren’t sure if they could be bothered to talk to you, but also felt obliged to make you feel welcome. They kept bursting into laughter and you had no idea why, and no one bothered to explain the jokes. But then they complimented your outfit and asked you how your day had been, and they listened with encouraging nods and wide eyes of interest when you answered. Until someone said something that they found more interesting, and then they turned away from you when you were halfway through a sentence. It was off-putting, to say the least; you couldn’t seem to find your footing.

Lachlan, however, was the icing on the cake. The sour, out-of-date icing on the stale cake. He flirted with you incessantly, either not picking up your clear signals that you weren’t interested, or just ignoring them. The others weren’t helping, either, egging the two of you on. A whole lot of wink-wink-nudge-nudge that you were not enjoying at all.

You should’ve just gone home. You didn’t know why you didn’t just leave.

But, for some reason, you stayed. Maybe you hoped that Brian would see your discomfort and come and talk to you – not that you’d seen him for the past hour – or that this strange group of people would want to talk with their friend Dani, and you’d be able to swoop in and catch up with Brian without Dani hanging around awkwardly.

Whatever it was, it was a stupid reason.

And then came truth or dare.

You didn’t want to play, but you were roped into it regardless. There was a rule, you found out, that you were allowed to back out of one truth or dare, and you had to drink if you did so – but only the once, so you had to choose wisely. Someone dared you to show everyone what underwear you were wearing.

Needless to say, you drank instead.

You could tell that no one was very impressed with any of the dares or questions you came up with, even though your friendship group loved your questions and dares. This group seemed to like the brainless shit – if it was gross, or sexual, or nasty in any way, they were all over it. Barely anyone chose ‘truth’.

Then it was Lachlan’s turn, and he turned to you. He grinned, and your stomach sank to the floor. “Dare you to kiss me,” he drawled, and the crowd gasped and ooh’d dramatically.

You didn’t even hesitate to snatch up your cider, but Lachlan quickly said, “You’ve already drunk, you can’t do it twice.”

“Well, I’m doing it twice,” you snapped, and took a swig.

You received jeers and boos for that, and Gina, the girl beside you, took your beer from your hand and said, “You can’t do that!”

“You gotta kiss me, that’s the rules,” Lachlan said above the sounds of everyone else.

“I don’t want to,” you said, your voice wavering.

“You have to,” said Savannah. “You have to, you have to, it’s the rules.”

“Come on,” said – whatever her fucking name was. “Stop being such a pussy, just get it over with.”

Lachlan was starting to look a bit pissed off by now. “Fucking hell, just come and kiss me,” he said. “Don’t be a bitch about it.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel your hands starting to shake. “Jesus – no, all right? I don’t want to,” you snapped.

The room felt too loud, too stuffy, too overwhelming.

“Lachlan, just think of something else,” you said.

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Gina complained. “Just do something else.”

“No, I gave you a dare already,” Lachlan said sourly. “It’s not even that big of a deal, like, I don’t even know what the problem is.”

“If she doesn’t want to-”

“That’s the fucking rules,” Lachlan said, throwing his hands in the air like you were the one being unreasonable. “Is that not the fucking rules? Goddamn.”

“Okay, then just kiss him already,” said whatever-the-fuck-her-name-was, waving you over. “Whatever, just hurry up.”

“I’m fucking bored with this shit already,” Savannah said. “Just kiss him or don’t kiss him, whatever. God, this party sucks.”

“It doesn’t suck, she’s just being a bitch,” Lachlan protested.

“Don’t call me a bitch,” you said.

“I’m just teasing,” Lachlan said, crawling over to you. You shrunk away from him, your heart beating like a cantering horse, and he grabbed your wrist. “One kiss, c’mon,” he said, his voice light and friendly, like you were happy to play along.

But you weren’t happy to play along. You didn’t know if everyone was too drunk to notice your obvious discomfort, or they didn’t care, but this was crossing the goddamn line.

“Fuck off, Lachlan,” you said, trying to pull your wrist back. You’d wanted your voice to be tough, to be assertive, but it was small and weak, and then Lachlan leant in for a kiss.

You turned your face away. “Lachlan–”

“Just fucking kiss me, for God’s sake, woman,” Lachlan growled, and grabbed your face with his other hand.

You pushed his hand away, and, without thinking, blurted out the one word that your panicked brain told you would stop everything in its tracks: “Nickleback.”

“What?” Lachlan said, and, good fucking God, of course that wouldn’t work, you were such a fucking idiot, and now you had no back-up plan, nothing else to do, and that word was supposed to stop things, why wasn’t it stopping things–

But then Lachlan was gone, and you felt a hand grab your other wrist and yank you up from the floor, and you unthinkingly leant into the body the hand belonged to as you were led from the room and into a bedroom, and the noise around you became muffled as the door closed behind you.

Then Brian was setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you. In an ideal world, he would have wrapped his arms around you and you would’ve been able to breathe again, like in a movie, but instead there was an awkward amount of space between you as he gingerly asked, “Are you all right?”

You barely even snuck a glance at him. You were humiliated by what had just happened, humiliated by needing him to rescue you, humiliated by your desperate craving for his touch, his comfort. You stared at the floor, curling in on yourself, and you nodded silently. Your hands still shook from adrenaline, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

Brian sighed. “I’m sorry about them. I didn’t know…”

You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you mumbled.

Brian said nothing for a while, and then he reached over and patted you on the back. So achingly unfamiliar, and you felt your shoulders grow even more hunched than they already were. You didn’t think he’d ever touched you like that. Like you were a complete stranger.

You ducked your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Brian said, “Yeah?”

You glanced up to see Dani poke her head in, and you quickly looked away again. “Hey, baby,” she said.

Your stomach crawled.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Brian said.

“All right,” Dani said. You could feel her hovering awkwardly.

Brian said your name, catching your attention, and then said, “I’ll just… let you have some time to yourself, all right?”

You said nothing. You did nothing. And Brian stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“What happened?” came Dani’s voice from just outside the door.

“Lachlan was harassing her,” Brian said.

“They were just playing,” Dani said. “They’re all drunk, it’s just truth or dare.”

“No, I know, but…”

“You didn’t have to run in there like there was a fire and pull her out of there like that. Everyone’s going to ask me what that was all about. Where did that come from?”

Your ears were straining to hear Brian’s response.

“I… I just knew she needed to get out,” he said eventually.

“She could have left if she was uncomfortable.”

“She gets really anxious sometimes, she just freezes.”

You realised, then, that he must’ve heard you say ‘Nickleback’. He must have heard it and immediately known that something was wrong.

You groaned quietly to yourself, covering your face with your hands. Your ex-friend-with-benefits had heard you yell out your old safeword in the middle of a party, and had felt obliged to rush in like a knight in shining armour to swoop you to safety. Jesus Christ.

“She’s an adult, baby,” Dani said. “I’m sure she was fine.” You heard someone sigh. “It’s sweet that you guys are friends, but you don’t have to…”

“What?”

“Look out for her that much.”

“What do you mean? She’s my friend.”

Dani was silent for a while. “Did you guys used to…?”

The air was sucked from the room. Your ears strained to hear every word.

“What?” Brian said, clearly thrown.

“Did you used to date? It just seems like…”

“No,” Brian said quickly. “No, we never dated.”

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No, baby. I promise you, we never dated.”

You grimaced.

Someone sighed again. “Okay,” Dani said. “Good. The last thing I’d want is for you to be friends with an ex.”

Brian chuckled. It sounded forced. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m glad we agree. Gimme a kissy?”

You could’ve thrown up right then and there. A kissy?

You could hear them murmuring to each other, and Dani’s voice had a particular whiny, baby-talk tone to it that made you want to ‘accidentally’ open the door into the both of them. But then they left, and you were even more alone than before, and you lay down on the bed and curled into a ball, feeling sorry for yourself.

It was time to go home.

By the grace of God himself, Brian offered to wait outside with you, sitting beside you on the kerb, while you called a ride home. Dani stayed inside with her friends.

“I’m sorry about… what happened,” Brian said, and you went still as a statue.

“What do you mean?” you said softly.

“Lachlan, and all of that.”

You let out a breath. “Oh,” you said. “Yeah, that. It’s fine.”

Silence. It wriggled under your skin like cockroaches.

You wanted to touch Brian. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted Roger there, too. You wanted them to want you, like they used to. You wanted to be allowed to want them like they used to love.

But Roger wasn’t there. And Brian barely was, either.

“Brian?” Dani called from the front door.

Brian twisted around. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh, okay. Just checking everything’s good.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Still waiting for the car.”

“Okay. See you inside.”

“Yep.”

“Miss you, baby.”

Brian chuckled. “Miss you too.”

You waited until Brian had turned back around to face the road, and then blurted out, “Why do you let her call you that? You hate pet names.”

Brian frowned, looking to you. “What?”

“Pet names. You hate them.”

“I don’t hate them,” he said.

“You don’t like them, at least.”

“According to who?”

“According to you,” you said. “You told me. And you never–” You never called me anything but my name when we were fucking. “You never said you liked them.”

“Well, I do,” Brian said. “And why do you care, anyway?”

“I just think it’s weird,” you said, and you were aiming for casual but you knew you sounded brash. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend the whole time we’ve known each other,” Brian said. “You don’t know what I’m like when I’m in a relationship.”

“You shouldn’t change who you are when you’re in a relationship,” you said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not changing who I am,” Brian said, his face pinched. “What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” you said harshly. “I just think you’re lying to yourself. You don’t like calling her baby, and you don’t like being called baby, and I just think it’s weird that you wouldn’t just say that.”

“Well, I just think it’s weird you think you have the right to comment on my relationship,” Brian said. “I like calling her baby. And I like it when she calls me baby.”

“But you don’t,” you insisted. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“What?” Brian exclaimed. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“I know you, okay?” you snapped. “I know you far better than she does. And I know you don’t like pet names, but you won’t tell her for some reason.”

“I won’t tell her because I like them,” Brian said. “And she knows me, too, you know.”

“She’s known you for, like, two months! Less than!” you said. “That’s nothing.”

“Why…” Brian floundered. “There isn’t some – time limit on these things. You can’t judge if someone knows someone better just by how long…”

“I just don’t get it,” you said. “Maybe that’s my fault, but I don’t get how someone can just walk into your life and suddenly they’re the most important person you’ve ever met when you’ve only known them for five minutes.”

“You’ve clearly never fallen in love,” Brian said snootily.

“Oh, fuck off,” you scoffed. “You’re not in love with her.”

“How would you know?”

“You’ve only been dating a couple weeks! Come on, Brian. You can call each other baby all you like, but I know you.”

“I like pet names,” Brian said, his voice hard. “I just never called you one because, in case you’ve forgotten, you were never my fucking girlfriend. So, for the love of God, can you stop acting like a jealous ex.”

It was like a stab to the gut and a twist of the knife all at the same time. All you could do was sit in stunned silence.

Brian looked at you, almost like he was waiting for a response, and when he never received one, he sighed, stood, and left.

Your chin wobbled, your vision blurred, and you scrabbled for your phone in your handbag.

Roger opened the door. “Hey–”

You leapt onto him, kissing him furiously. He stumbled, but kept his balance, one arm curling around your waist and the other groping for the door, pushing it closed. You spun him around and backed him up, pressing him against the door, and ducked your head to suck at his neck, palming at him through his sweatpants.

Roger jumped. “Oh, God, okay,” he said with a surprised laugh. “You’re really…”

You nodded, and captured his lips again, nipping at his bottom lip. “I want you so bad,” you breathed. “I want you to fuck me hard, Daddy, please.”

You didn’t wait for him to reply, and kissed him. You slipped your hands into his underwear, and he tensed underneath you, surprised again.

You needed him to fuck you, to bruise you, to bite you. To make you feel wanted, needed. To mark you up, to make you scream, to make it hurt. You needed it so badly that your hands shook.

Roger put a hand to your collarbones, and you thought he was going to choke you, but instead he pushed you back, just enough to stare into your face.

“Are you sure you want to call me Daddy?” he asked unsurely. “You seem a little…”

“What?” you said.

“Not yourself,” Roger said. “Are you– Have you been drinking?”

“The fuck does that mean?” you said. “I just really need you to fuck me hard, does that not sound like me?”

“I don’t–”

“Roger,” you cut in sharply, and then quickly softened your tone into something whinier, needier, more enticing. “Daddy. I want you. Please.”

Roger’s frown never disappeared. “I don’t want you to call me Daddy,” he said.

You blinked, taken aback. “Um, okay,” you said. You could still work with that. “No Daddy.” You went to kiss him again, but he held you away.

You resisted huffing in frustration. “Roger…”

“This is about Brian, isn’t it?” he said.

“What?” you said. “No. Why would it be about Brian? I want you.”

“You’re drunk and upset and jealous, and you want me to fuck you how he used to fuck you, because you miss it.”

A slap to the face would’ve hurt less. Your hands fell limp at your sides. “What?”

“Is that not what’s happening right now?” Roger said, his hands dropping as well. “Is that not why you’re over? You went to that party, got yourself all worked up and upset, and now you want to be fucked how Brian used to fuck you?”

You blinked. “N– No,” you said, and you meant it, but the more Roger said it, the more you thought that maybe he was right, and you hadn’t even realised.

“Because it’s what it feels like,” Roger said. “It feels like I’m just an outlet for you. It’s not even about you and me anymore, it’s about you and him.”

Oh my God. You hated to admit it, but he was right. You covered your mouth with your hands, horrified at yourself. “Fuck, Roger, I…”

“I’m ending the arrangement between us,” he said simply. “It’s not fun anymore, and it’s definitely not healthy. You need time to… I don’t even know. But you need time, and I don’t really feel like being collateral damage. Especially not with end-of-year exams literally just around the corner.”

No. No, no, no, fuck, not this, anything but this.

“No, Rog, please, I’m sorry,” you said. “I wasn’t thinking, I– I can’t–” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “Please. I…”

Roger sighed, and pulled you into a hug. You clutched onto him, and, finally, cried. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured sympathetically, stroking your hair. “This whole thing has really messed you up, hasn’t it?”

“I c– can’t lose you t– too,” you sobbed into his shirt.

“You’re not losing me. We’re still friends. It just… won’t be with the benefits anymore. For now, at least. Maybe forever, I don’t know. See how things go. But I’m never going to stop being friends with you.”

Your body shook as you cried, and Roger rubbed your back, letting you ruin his shirt.

The Bee Movie played on the TV, but your heart wasn’t in it. You leant against Roger, a cup of tea in your hands, and one in his. You were exhausted from crying, and you almost found yourself nodding off. Normally there was nothing more fun than enjoying the trials and tribulations of Barry B. Benson with Roger, but now not even casual bestiality was enough to cheer you up.

Roger didn’t say much, either. You had no idea what he was thinking, although you were pretty sure he wasn’t really watching the movie, just staring at the screen.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice breaking a little.

Roger sighed. “It’s okay,” he said, giving you a soft, sad smile. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now.”

“I don’t even understand why,” you said, your bottom lip trembling. Not again. “I never liked him like that, not ever. I know I never liked him like that. I didn’t want to go out on dates with him, or be his girlfriend, or any of that. So I don’t get why it – hurts so much.”

“Your thing went on for a really long time,” Roger reasoned. “And now it’s gone. I can’t blame you. I…” He bit his lip. “I… kinda miss it too, to be honest.”

You frowned at him in confusion. “You miss… Brian?”

“I miss…” Roger took a sip of his tea. “I miss the dynamic, I suppose. We actually got a lot closer because of it. And it was fun, you know? Especially the threesomes, those were really fun.”

You managed a tired laugh.

“It was just nice to have… a thing, that was ours,” Roger said. “Us three, I don’t know. This thing that was ours. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“No, it does,” you said. You paused, and then said, “You and Brian aren’t as close now?”

Roger shrugged a shoulder. “Not… really?” he said unsurely. “We haven’t really hung out a lot recently. I mean, we’ve been studying a lot, so I haven’t really seen much of anyone as of late, but, like, for a while, me and Brian hung out a whole lot, just the two of us. Guess you end up feeling closer when you have to talk about your feelings all the time. And when you see each other naked every so often.” He shot you a smile, and you smiled back. “But now it’s sort of in a weird place. I mean, none of us have seen him a lot, he’s just with Dani all day and night. Which makes sense, they’re in their honeymoon phase. But I do miss… that.”

You nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t even feel like he wants to be around me,” you said in a small voice. “Like I’m not even friends with him anymore.”

“You are,” Roger assured you. “You just… both have to learn how to be… normal friends again.”

“And us too,” you added.

Roger blinked, but nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, us, too.”

You didn’t want to say it, you knew you shouldn’t say it, but the alcohol had loosened your tongue: “You gonna miss me?”

Roger’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he took a big breath in and out, shaking his head. “Damn,” he muttered.

“Sorry, ignore me,” you mumbled. “I’m just being sad and pathetic.”

“You’re not sad and pathetic,” Roger said. “But I’m not gonna miss you, you’ll still be around.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Roger said. He sighed again. “I don’t think… it would be good for either of us if I answered that.”

You said nothing. It felt like Roger wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

“But…” You looked to him, and he looked to you. “Can we still be friends like before?” you asked him. “I mean, just – with Brian, he won’t even hug me hello or goodbye, he barely looks at me, he doesn’t want to be near me, I just–” You shook your head. “I couldn’t stand it if you did that, too. Can we at least just be friends?”

Roger nodded. “Of course,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Yes, of course,” he said again. “I promise you, okay? I like hugs just as much as you do.”

You nodded, reassured. “Thank you.”

Roger threw his arm around you and gave you a squeeze, then took his arm back.

A month and a bit ago, he would’ve left his arm there, around your shoulders. You would’ve pressed closer into him. Probably eventually would’ve lifted your head to kiss his neck, or maybe your hands – or his hands – would’ve gone wandering.

But a squeeze was something, at least, and you were grateful for it. You told yourself you were grateful for it.

Three-ish months later

The air was just starting to cool, and, for the first time in a while, you pulled on a jacket.

It had been a while since you’d seen your flat. You’d gone home for the summer – not for the whole time, you still had rent to pay and you didn’t want to waste it, but for a few weeks – which had been a welcomed change of scenery.

After how your previous semester of uni had ended, the last thing you’d wanted was to hang around the flat.

It had been an uncomfortable summer. The mid-year break, last year, you hadn’t gone home. You’d told your parents it was because of the rent thing, but in reality, it had mostly been about Roger and Brian. A month off uni, and your flatmate Lucy had gone home for the break, meaning you had a free house? That had been a wild couple of weeks.

You shook your head. Stop, you reprimanded yourself. It did you no good to reminisce. You’d had an entire summer to sort things out for yourself, to reset, and it was a bad idea to let yourself slip. You’d barely spoken to Roger or Brian all summer, just to give yourself some space.

You’d missed them. A lot. Maybe cried once or twice. Maybe more. But that was only for you to know.

You doubted that they’d missed you.

The thought still felt like a stab to the gut, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head at yourself. Stop it. Stop.

There was a knock on the front door, and you were momentarily surprised – but you knew it was Veronica. You took a moment to get your thoughts together, then hurried to the door to let her in.

She greeted you with a joyous cry of your name and a warm hug. “It’s been so long!”

The two of you rocked from foot to foot, and you breathed in her familiar smell. You hadn’t seen her since before Christmas.

When the hug eventually ended, Veronica sighed happily. “Can’t believe I’ve missed you,” she said, and you laughed, giving her a backhand slap on the arm.

“Cow,” you said.

“So you’ve kept the same place?”

“Yep,” you said.

“Lucy still your flatmate?”

“Yeah. It works well, so.”

“No, no, she’s lovely,” Veronica said with a nod. “Did she want to come to drinks tonight?”

You glanced towards Lucy’s room instinctively, even though you knew she wasn’t in there. “She’s not coming back until Wednesday, I think.”

“Ah, well, answers that question.” Veronica gave you a smile. You could tell there was a question on the tip of her tongue, and you just stood there, waiting for her to ask it.

She sighed again, resigned. She knew she’d been sprung. “I wasn’t going to ask. I– I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“I’m okay,” you said. “I’m fine.”

Veronica squinted at you unsurely, like she wanted to press you for further information, but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. “Fine?”

“It’s been a bit rough, but I’m okay,” you said.

You’d tell her the truth soon enough. You had no willpower when it came to Veronica. But you weren’t in the mood for a whole conversation right now.

“So you’re all right for tonight?”

You rolled your eyes. “Am I capable of getting drinks with my friends? Yes, I think so.”

“Even though Dani will be there?”

“Brian and Dani have been dating for, like, five months now – and don’t say it like that. Brian isn’t my ex.”

“Roger’s dating someone,” Veronica blurted.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Stop. “Oh?” you said, and it sounded warped and wonky. “Since when? Good for him. Have you met her?”

“Once,” Veronica said. “Just last week, when I dropped by the flat. Her name is–” She let out a laugh. “Actually, this is really funny. Her name is Freddy.”

You laughed. “What?” you squawked. “Freddy?”

“Freddy with a Y,” Veronica said. “Roger made that very clear when I met her. As if that changes anything.”

“God, I bet that’s confusing in bed,” you said.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing the ‘with a Y’ part makes all the difference for Roger.”

“Freddy,” you mused. “What’s it short for?”

“No idea. But she’s not as hot as you are.”

You shot Veronica a mock glare. “Roger isn’t my ex either.”

“Still,” Veronica said lightly. She hesitated, and then said, “Have you spoken to either of them recently?”

“No, not really,” you said, as casually as you could muster. “Look, Ron, could we just… table this conversation for later? I’m not really up to it.”

“Yeah, of course,” Veronica said, waving a hand. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll keep my nose out of it. Let’s just go. Are you ready?”

You took a steadying breath. “So ready,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

Arriving at the local pub felt like coming home. The smell of beer, the roar of conversation, the bundles of people crowded around tables. The floor was sticky, there weren’t enough places to sit, and the prices up on the chalkboard on the wall were far too high.

You scrunched your nose. Coming home sucked.

“I forgot how much I hate this place,” you yelled into Veronica’s ear. “We need to find somewhere less popular, Jesus.”

“I know,” Veronica said. “I’ve mentioned it to John; he thinks the same.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, next time.”

You said that every time.

Veronica corroborated her instructional texts from John with the view in front of her in order to find everyone else. They were tucked away in a corner booth, crammed into the space.

You’d had enough trouble as it was, trying to fit everyone into a booth. You couldn’t even imagine how you were going to make it work with two new people in the group.

Veronica took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as you neared the table.

There was John, at the end of the booth, facing you – his eyes lit up when he spotted Veronica, and began shifting over to make room for her beside him. At the end of the table, on a chair, was Freddie. He noticed John’s line of sight, and he turned to you, his smile wide.

You couldn’t really see the others. Just the back of Brian’s head. But that was hard to miss.

Freddie stood up to give you a warm hug as Veronica tossed around a few ‘hello’s and slid in next to John. “Darling!” Freddie said. “I haven’t seen you all break.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said.

Freddie waved you off. “It’s fine,” he said. “I understand.” He glanced towards the other occupants of the booth.

“Don’t start,” you muttered, and Freddie gave your arm a swift pat.

“Speaking of which,” he said, turning. “Roger, Brian, you remember our dear friend, I’m sure?”

You resisted elbowing Freddie in the side, giving Brian and Roger tight smiles.

At the same time, your eyes landed on Dani and her browny blonde Ariana Grande ponytail and her mouse face and her curvy body pressed into Brian’s side. And beside Roger, tucked under his arm, was a blonde, tanned girl. Blue eyes, like Roger, but hers were light, strikingly so, and a perfect full face of make-up. Her brows were dark and bold, and her lips looked pouty and soft.

‘Not as hot as you were’ your arse. This girl looked like she modelled in her spare time.

Your jaw clenched. You resisted dragging Veronica away by her ear and having a word with her.

Stop it. Stop it.

“This is Freddy,” Freddie said.

“With a Y,” Roger added quickly.

“Yes, with a Y,” Freddie said dryly. “Roger’s new flame.”

“Hi,” Freddy said with a smile. Her teeth were very white. She lifted a well-manicured hand to fiddle with the silver chain around her neck.

You could see the discolouration on her knuckles. Well, at least you knew her tan wasn’t real. That was something. Wasn’t it?

No. It wasn’t. She looked incredible anyway. Didn’t even matter that she was wearing fake tan. What a stupid thing to think.

You introduced yourself.

There was a pause where no one really knew what to say next.

“Hi, by the way,” John said.

Relieved, you gave him a smile. “Hi, John, how are you?”

“Not too bad. Do you want to find a chair?”

God bless John Deacon. “Let me help you,” Freddie said, and you both began wandering through the crowd together, knowing there was no way in hell you’d be able to find a chair.

“How are you?” Freddie asked. “Actually, sod the fucking chair, let’s get a drink.”

“Sounds superb,” you said.

“Try again,” Freddie said when you’d gotten in line. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said. “And you?”

“Good, fine,” Freddie said. “Lonely. I want a boyfriend. Everyone else is in a godforsaken relationship, so I only think it’s reasonable. Look at me, the token lonely, single homosexual in a group of straight people. Right out of an early 2000s chick flick. I may as well start wearing skinny scarves and a vest and talk about how much I love shopping. Do you think I’m sassy enough?”

“Stop it,” you said. “If you start wearing skinny scarves, I’ll strangle you with one.”

“If I start wearing skinny scarves, I’d practically be begging you to,” Freddie muttered.

“I’m sorry you’re lonely,” you said. “I could be your wingwoman, if you like. We could go out together.”

Freddie gave you a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he said. His eyes scanned the chalkboard, as did yours, but it was more habit than anything else. “What did you get up to during the break?”

“Slept,” you said, and Freddie chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“Ate too much,” he added.

“Yep, that too,” you said with a laugh. “Never left the house.”

“Except to buy more booze.”

“Or take the bins out.”

Freddie laughed. “Isn’t summer wonderful.”

“Oh, it’s just perfect,” you said, and it came out so bitter, with such a sneer in your tone, that Freddie cracked up. A few heads turned, but they usually did, with Freddie.

“Did you stay here or go home?” you asked.

“Both,” Freddie said. “Mostly here, though. Just wanted to see the family for a while, but I’m far more comfortable here.”

You nodded.

“Did you talk to Brian and Roger much?” Freddie said.

You shook your head. “No.”

That was all.

“Well, shit,” Freddie said. “That’s all just completely fucked, then?”

“It’s fine,” you said. You reached the front of the line, and went to order. Freddie followed you.

You ordered a cider, then Freddie ordered a pint. “What do you think of Freddy with a Y?” Freddie asked as the bartender poured your drinks.

“I’ve barely met her,” you said. “Didn’t know she existed until Ron told me just before we left mine.”

“Jesus,” Freddie said. “You really haven’t spoken to them.”

“No,” you said. “And Roger doesn’t post much on social media, either, so. And Brian posts far too much, so I know way too much about him and Dani for my liking, which is wonderful.”

“I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “God, I’m sorry it’s all gone to shit, I really am. That’s miserable, darling.”

“It’s fine,” you said. The bartender set your drinks in front of you, and you and Freddie collected them, weaving your way back to the table.

“Did you… get around to dating much?” Freddie asked.

“Wasn’t in the mood,” you said.

Freddie said nothing. Message received.

You arrived back at the booth. While you’d gotten a drink, you hadn’t solved the seating problem.

You bunched up next to Veronica. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t unbearable.

You met Brian’s eyes across the table. He gave you a warm smile. It hurt. You hated that it hurt. “I haven’t said hi yet,” he said, like you hadn’t just gone three months without seeing or speaking to each other. “How you going?”

“Good, good,” you said, and took a swig of cider. “You?”

“Yeah, great. Get up to much?”

“Not really. Did you?”

“Not too much,” Brian said. “Dani and I took a little trip south. That was nice, wasn’t it, baby?”

“So nice,” Dani said with a cheeky, knowing little grin at Brian.

He shook his head at her, and she giggled, then reached up for a quick kiss.

You knew about the little trip south. Everybody knew about the little trip south. Brian had waxed poetry about it on Instagram for every single day they were away. “So lots of sex, then,” you said.

Veronica choked on her water, and Roger burst out laughing.

You hadn’t realised he’d been listening to the conversation.

Dani’s face was turning tomato-red, and she hid her face behind her hand. Brian managed a good-natured chuckle, albeit a slightly forced one, and you could tell he was rubbing Dani’s knee under the table.

“What, what was the joke?” Freddie said immediately.

“Nothing,” you said, and turned to Roger. “So, Freddy, with a Y, how did you and Roger meet?”

“Bumble,” Freddy said, unabashed. “About a month ago?”

“Yeah, about that,” Roger said.

“Yeah, Ron said,” you said. “That’s nice.”

“So there’s…” Roger licked his bottom lip. “There’s no one you’ve got your eye on, then?”

“No,” you said, uncomfortable. Why would anyone want you? You were messy, you were too much. You were demanding. You were easily replaced.

You took a sip of cider. Stop.

It had been three months, for God’s sake. Three months of no contact, and still you were left with an ugly, twisted feeling in the pit of your stomach after everything that had happened.

None of it had even mattered. You’d always known it had had an expiration date. You were just…

You hated feeling like this.

“Hey,” Veronica said suddenly, raising her glass of water. “Let’s make a toast, shall we? To the new year. To– to passing our classes, and to ramen, and to… fresh starts.”

Everyone raised their glasses, saying something along the lines of cheers, and began clinking their glasses together. You took a moment longer, but joined in.

Veronica met your eyes to clink her glass to yours. “Fresh starts,” she said with a small smile.

You couldn’t quite say it back, so you smiled and nodded, then took a sip of your cider.

You could feel Brian’s and Roger’s eyes on you. You pretended to be interested in something happening across the room.

God, you couldn’t wait for this chapter of your life to be nothing but a bad dream.

#try series #try verse #my writing #queen fanfiction #roger taylor x reader #brian may x reader #rpf #angst

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