#he actually put a sticky note on the fridge saying words you have to avoid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justanotherstarlightmonger · 4 years ago

Note

🚶🏼‍♀️🚶🏼‍♀️Don't be shy give us a long distance AU 🌍

A/N: I was actually trying to avoid a long distance AU, since I recently broke up from a very troubling long distance relationship and I only have sour memories. But this ask made me realize there are many healthy long distance relationships that thrive. And so here I am, with Park Jimin x y/n and a very soft, healthy long distance relationship as a bandage to my own wounds.

(I noticed you didn’t give me a member so I’m going with my comfort boi)

Pairing: Idol Park Jimin x fem reader

Content (not exactly warning): Healthy crying, long distance angst, aching to hold each other, teasing, cyber sex, yunno, the works.

LONG DISTANCE AU

(Park Jimin)

“Doctor y/l/n, the patient in room no 38 is asking about his discharge again. Could you please make sure to lend him some comfort next time you’re in there? His anxiety has been really bad lately, and he refuses to believe a word I say.” the nurse informed you, her eyes betraying her worry.

You tried smiling your most reassuring smile and nodded, getting back to the file you had been studying. Running a hand through your hair, you looked up at the clock that read 3:30 pm. There was still quite a lot of time till your shift ended and you went back home.

Your empty home. Your heart sunk. You hated when Jimin was gone. Even on your most busiest days, when you had night shifts and he danced the whole day in the studio, there was always a comfort of coming home, exhausted and broken, to the rumpled bed that showed that he had come home to sleep. The little sticky notes he left for you on the fridge telling you how mad he’d be if you went to sleep without eating and how much he loved you and couldn’t wait to meet you later. Those tiny pink pieces of paper lit up your whole day. And the days he left the country, when he was on tour, you felt the very air had slowed down and the days would simply not move along. Your hectic schedule did nothing to help.

That’s when your phone buzzed with a singular text.

PJM💜: Just got back to the hotel jagi. I’m really tired so I’m gonna sleep. Wake me up when you get off your shift. I love you.

You smiled your first genuine smile all day, your heart aching to give him a kiss and tell him to rest well as you pulled the blinds to shut the sun out. You shook your head and put your phone down, finally extracting the report you were looking for and made your way back to your office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6 pm

Making your way to your car, you stopped to figure out what time it was in LA. It’d be about 1 am, way too early to wake up Jimin. You got in your car, joining the stream of Seoul traffic, mind on the other side of the world. The part where people slumbered peacefully after long, productive days. A thought very welcome to you, but there was no way you could sleep without hearing his sweet voice and knowing how his day went and his genuine interest in how yours went too.

Parking the car in the garage, you stepped out and fondly patted Jimin’s BMW on your way inside.

Tidying up the mess you left behind, letting a kettle of water boil for tea and rummaging through the fridge to find something easy to make, you finally collected all your essentials and collapsed on the couch, a bowl of rice and spicy tofu in your hand. You were debating whether or not to turn on the tv since you never really enjoyed watching tv unless it was some rom-com your boyfriend was watching. Deciding against it, you ate your dinner in silence, thoughts wandering to one of the more chronic patients you were treating. That’s when you realized you heard the faint music of your ringtone and that you had left your phone on the kitchen counter.

Rushing to catch the call, half afraid it might be from the hospital, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Jimin.

But wait...wasn’t it still too early for him to be up? Frowning, you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my baby.” You heard the smile in his voice.

“Hi Jimin.” you sighed, weariness falling off your shoulders, immediately.

“Are you still at work? Did I disturb you?”

“Oh no, no. I came home a while ago, but I thought it was too early to wake you up, since you’ve been working so hard.”

“And by the time I woke up myself, my baby would have been asleep.” Jimin sounded slightly cross.

You giggled. “I wouldn’t dare.” you said playfully.

“Oh I know how daring you are.” He laughed, “That’s why I set an alarm to wake me up, since I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Aish, Park Jimin, you surprise me with every breath.”

His airy laughter rang across the line and filled your sad little heart with so much happiness. “Do you miss me?” he asked.

“Every second.” you whispered.

Jimin hummed and fell silent for a minute, “But of course I miss you more.”

Laughing incredulously, you shook your head. “It’s not a competition, love.”

Silence ensued, as you gathered your dishes and placed them in the sink, placing him on speakerphone as you poured yourself water. The silence wasn’t awkward. It never had been with Jimin. You were both tired, you both knew that. Yet more than the tiredness of your bodies, your souls craved even the remotest of presence with each other. And so, in comfortable silence, you carried him to the bedroom, as you laid down and got comfortable on the pillows.

“Are you lying down?” He asked.

You hummed, turning to your side to face the phone. You heard Jimin shift in his bed. “Lemme look at you.” he said as your phone vibrated with a video call request. You accepted and propped the phone against his pillow basking in his soft smile as he stared at you for a full minute. You saw his arm rise and he reached out to the phone. It took a second to realize that he was stroking his phone screen. You blushed and hid your face in the pillow.

“Are you sleeping well, baby?” he asked.

“As well as I can sleep without you here.” you answered honestly.

Jimin tsked. “That’s not very good is it?”

“You’re one to talk babe, how did an alarm manage to wake you up?”

Jimin smiled sadly, nodding. “Well, yeah, I’ve been sleeping really light”

Mirroring his tsk, you imitated, “That’s not very good is it?”

“You could be here you know? Right here beside me, in the crowd when I perform in two days, backstage when I get off stage.” he stated.

You smiled at his glittering eyes, “I can’t up and leave my job every time you travel Jimin. We’ve been over this.”

Jimin nodded, “A man can dream.”

Trying to lighten the mood, you ventured, “Are you excited to perform?”

Jimin turned away from the phone he had placed on the side, “Every time I think about that, I feel like” I could throw up. I’ve got immense butterflies in my stomach jagi. I’m scared actually.”

You frowned. This was not the response you had anticipated. Not after all those nightmares and time he had spent crying about not being able to perform for his Armys. “Why Jimin?” you asked softly.

He shook his head. “Yoongi hyung had a point when he said people forget about the people they don’t meet for a long time. What if our fans have forgotten about us? And even if they haven’t, I feel like I’ve lost all my charm. What if they’re disappointed in me?” his next whisper broke you, “What if you’re disappointed in me?”

Tears flooded your eyes and your voice cracked as you begged him to look at you.

His eyes widened in concern when he saw a tear trickled down your cheek, “Why are you crying??” he exclaimed.

“Don’t say stuff like that. I know you haven’t been on the internet too long, but your fans love you more than ever. Trust me, they do. Every site is overflowing with people excited to meet you guys again. And everyone is hyped to meet you Jimin. No one forgot about you. No one would ever be disappointed in you.” you looked into his soul, “Especially not me. Never me.”

Jimin smiled a watery smile, “I’m sorry for making you cry baby, I’m just really nervous.”

You nodded in understanding, wishing more than ever to wrap your arms around him and reassure him how much he was worth.

“My shoulders are really tense.” Jimin mumbled into his pillow.

You giggled, knowing full well what he had in mind. “Well, I would’ve massaged them all better if you were right here.”

Jimin nodded, his eyes closed. “You make me feel good always.”

“And that’s why you love me.” you leaned closer to the screen.

“I do.” he nodded, “I wish I could kiss you better than this but...” He leaned closer and pressed a kiss on his camera.

You laughed. “What else would you do better if you were here?”

The dark glint in his eyes showed you he had caught up, as he flipped the phone, hovering over the camera, the angle giving you delicious goosebumps and instantly changing the mood of the whole conversation.

“Whatever you wanted, baby.” He smirked, and tilted his head slightly, “But with the way you’re looking at me right now, all I can think about is how much I want to feel you up right now.”

Heart missing beats, you swallowed, “Mhmm?”

He nodded, then shrugged and fell back down on his pillow. “But since you insisted on staying, you’ll have to wait for me to get back to you.”

You felt betrayed and looked at him, shock written all over your face. He laughed.

“You’d do that to me?” you asked.

Jimin nodded smugly. “Don’t try and pull that cute face on me. I have nerves of steel.”

You gasped, pretending to whine and squirm. “Jimiiiinnnn.” you groaned his name, smugly hearing his breath hitch. He caught your eye, the fire visible clearly. His tongue flicked out, wetting his plush lips as he tilted his head, “Don’t play like that bub.”

“You hardly ever play fair Jimin.” you challenged.

“That means you want me?” He whispered.

“I always want you, what do you mean?”

“Too bad then, because you’re too far away my love.”

His tone told you he was not budging today. You knew he was probably all riled up with sexual tension already, but was teasing you and testing you. But for now, since you were too drained to fight back, you decided to play along and be the good girl he probably wanted you to.

“How am I supposed to satisfy myself then?”

A chuckle. “Well, since I’m to wait for you, it’s only fair you wait for me too. No touching yourself till I’m there to do it for you.”

You gulped, the urge to finger yourself already taking root, out of pure spite of his stupid plan. But you had a plan that you’d deploy soon enough. So you were willing to let him have this win.

You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip, saying nothing. “Okay pet?” he asked. His use of the nickname he gave you mostly when he was fucking your brains out, sent your mind into a deeper frenzy. You sighed and nodded. “I’ll try but... no promises.”

Jimin frowned, “Well, if you ever have the urge, tell me so I can cure that.”

God, he made sexual desire sound like a disease just now. You nodded. Time to abort.

“I’m sleepy,” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow, “I’m tired and needy and my boyfriend won’t even please me. All I can do is sleep.”

“Aww, yes you’re very cute. But I’m not falling for it.”

In a last ditch effort, you hit him with the full force of your puppy eyes.

“Not that face!” He laughed loudly, causing you to burst out laughing too. “No, I really will be sleeping now, Chimmy,” you said between giggles, “I have an early shift and you’ve been up way too long too.”

Jimin nodded, “Sleep, my baby. You worked so hard today. Goodnight.”

“You worked hard too, babe. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I miss you.” you whispered.

“I miss you more.”

You lingered for a minute more, eyes locked in longing before extending an arm to disconnect the call.

Waking up the next day, you felt a strange excitement in the pit of your stomach. You woke up to Jimin’s good morning text, as usual and reminded yourself of what you were going to do today.

You felt like you flew through your wards, not taking a break even for lunch, you finished your paperwork and were ready to clock out as soon as your early shift ended.

Rushing home, you ate a granola bar, while rummaging in your lingerie drawer. Yes, you had a whole drawer of skimpy pieces, since your boyfriend loved seeing you in things like these, all pretty for him.

Finally extracting the sexy number from the drawer, you held it up. The violet bralette was all sheer lace, the only coverage it provided was due to it’s dark color. The suspender belt was black and the garters were also black with violet bells. The thong was the most scandalous piece of clothing you owned, and you owned many scandalous things. You second guessed yourself for just a minute, before slipping off your skirt and beginning your transformation.

Admiring yourself in the mirror, you felt the rapid heartbeat kick in, as you brushed your hands fleetingly over your breast, tickles running through you. Finally, completing the look with one of Jimin’s t shirts over it all, you posed in front of the mirror and took a cute little selfie, sending it to Jimin with a “How do I look?”

It was10 pm in LA, and Jimin was sitting with his members, just hanging out before each of them retired to their rooms, when his phone tinged with a text from you. He opened the picture, smiling fondly. He recognized the shirt. He loved when you wore his clothes. He loved that even though he wasn’t the biggest man, you easily drowned in his shirts. Even this black t shirt, that fit him perfectly, reached mid thigh for you. His eyes flitted downwards, to your bare legs and he frowned. Something told him this wasn’t a simple OOTD picture. Especially since it was late afternoon in Korea and you were probably done for the day.

You look absolutely edible baby. So cute.

So he was still going to tease you? Well, you were all ready to tease back today.

“Would you like to see how well I dressed up today?”

Jimin felt that the contents of your texts were going to get steamy, and decided it was time to retire for the night. He bid his friends good night, complaining of sore muscles. He felt Hobi give him a knowing look and a slight smile and he felt his cheeks heat up as he rushed out, replying with a Of course, what’s the ocassion?

“Oh nothing, I just felt like looking pretty. ;)”

Show me

You pulled off the t shirt and let it fall to your feet. Snapping a picture in a slightly seductive pose, your heart hammered as you hit send.

Jimin hissed as he slammed the door to his room. Immediately, he was video calling you.

You leaned your phone against the mirror, and leaned back after answering it.

“Babyyy”

“Yes, baby?” you asked innocently.

“Why are you all dressed up pretty like a whole present?”

“I felt like it.” you conceded, sitting up straighter and locking eyes with him.

“Well, well, well. Are we being a tease?”

“Learnt from the best.” you winked and spread your legs further apart.

Jimin sucked in a breath. “Come closer, let me see your gorgeous tits.”

Smiling at how this was going, you leaned closer, cupping your breasts. Jimin hummed in appreciation. “Take it off for me.”

You tutted, “You sure?”

He laughed softly, “Don’t tease me, y/n. We both know who’ll win.”

A shiver ran up your spine, you felt yourself getting wet. Gulping, you unhooked the bra and let it slip down your arms. “There’s a good girl.” Jimin cooed.

You angled your body more towards the camera and pinched your nipples, rolling and kneading them as they hardened, needy sighs leaving your mouth.

“Good work, little pet.” You heard shallow breathing and saw Jimin’s face turning red from all the beating his heart was doing. You yourself were working up a sweat, a singular drop running down your neck and between your cleavage.

The view finder showed just how lewd you looked, and your own sight was really helping turn you on even more. Jimin’s breathing shifted and you heard a belt buckle, as he set his phone down on the table by the base of his bed and sat down, his legs spread, palming his visible bulge.

“Let me see you Jimin,” you asked him. He nodded and unzipped his pants, sliding them off his hips, giving you a nice view of his dark blue Calvin Kleins, hiding his member. You licked your lips, “Take em off.” you urged.

“You first,” he said.

You giggled, “So the abstinence thing is over right?”

Jimin nodded, “You think we could keep it up for the whole month? Do you know us?”

You laughed as you slid off your panties, exposing your glistening folds.

Jimin hummed and licked his lips, sitting up for a closer look. “So wet for me from halfway around the world. You really are my good girl.”

“Yes I am.” you cooed, teasing your clit with a fingertip, causing your legs to tremble involuntarily.

“God, how are you so fucking hot?” Jimin groaned. And finally he pushed off his boxers, his erection standing tall and proud against his abdomen, the sight making more than just your mouth water.

“God, Jimin. I need that.” he moaned as you closed your eyes and threw your head back.

“Let me hear it then baby.” he breathed.

Imagining his skilled digits replacing your own, you vibrated your clit, waves of pleasure shooting up your body. Soon enough, you heard a soft wet sound coming from your speaker, and opened your eyes to see Jimin pumping himself to the sight. “You look so fucking good, pet. All needy for me.”

Biting your lips raw, letting your imagination run berserk, you bucked your hips against your hands, two fingers fully submerged in your pussy.

“Spank yourself, let me hear how wet you are for me.”

Complying, you slapped your sensitive pussy, causing your juices to leak out. By now, your chest was heaving with your struggled breathing, your legs and abdominals were taut and aching. You were dangerously close to your orgasm.

“Come on baby, you can cum for me just there. Are you close?”

You nodded, unable to form words, eyes shut tight.

“Look at me, pet.”

You held eyes with him, as he coaxed you gently, “Let me see your pretty face as you cum for me. You’re doing so good for me pet. Always such an obedient little girl. I love you so much.”

The tense knot in your stomach gave way to a wave of euphoria as you arched your hips up, your legs trembling as your body shook with pleasure, your fingers, not stopping the assault on your clit, were now making lewd, wet sounds as they slid in and out of your seeping hole.

You let out a cry of Jimin’s name, to which he reassured you, “I’m right here. Good girl, such a good girl, came so hard for daddy.”

The sight of loosing yourself so thoroughly to the pleasure of simply the thought of him, and his own lewd words, sent Jimin off to his own high. He came all over his hands and stomach, his abs painted in the creamy evidence of his expertise. His breathing stabilized, as he looked up to see you smiling softly at him. He blinked lazily, meeting your eyes.

“You were good baby girl. You would be even better if you were the one painted with my cum.”

You swallowed, and nodded, “Trust me, I wish I was too.”

Jimin reached over for some napkins and cleaned himself up, as you slipped on your panties. When he was done, he looked at you with a smirk. “Moral of the story is?”

“We can’t stop ourselves from having sex. Even if we’re separated by the whole world?”

Jimin laughed and nodded, “That’s certainly one of the lessons.”

104 notes · View notes

secretpeachtea · 5 years ago

Text

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 2

Title: the duplicate

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: I know the twins (or anyone from Hyogo for that matter) have a very specific accent, but I have a bit of trouble translating that into my writing, so I hope you guys can still use and hear that accent when you read their dialogue!

Previous///Next

It’s been a little over a week since you’ve started working at Onigiri Miya, and thankfully, things have been going well. There have only been a handful of problematic customers, but you were able to handle them quite efficiently, much to Osamu’s satisfaction. You’ve even been able to get acquainted with your boss much more since it’s only the two of you working long shifts together. You can definitely say that things have been working out really well at your job.

Today is another typical day for you as you walk towards the entrance of the shop, ready to start another day of work. You had actually left your apartment a lot earlier than usual, so you were a bit surprised to see that the door was already unlocked since Osamu usually arrives on the dot. You’re a little concerned that you might’ve jumbled up your alarm this morning and was actually late, but your phone displayed the right time. Not wanting to prolong your anxiety, you slide open the door and meet an unexpected sight.

Sitting at the counter is a man who looks like a carbon copy of your boss but with blonde hair. He’s sporting a mustard-colored tracksuit and is carrying a confident aura.

“Miya-san?”

The stranger looks up and makes eye contact with you. There’s a brief air of silence before he breaks out into a wide grin. “Oh! Hey, new girl!”

Not knowing how to respond, you just lift your hand awkwardly. “Um...hi?”

“I heard from a friend of mine that ‘Samu hired a new worker.” The blonde runs a hand through his hair. “Didn’t think you’d be such a cutie though.”

Before you even had time to react, your boss walked out of the storage room with a bag of rice on top of his shoulder. “‘Sumu, you got rice all over your chin.”

Miya Atsumu flushes red from embarrassment and proceeds to grab a napkin to clean his face. Now that you’re paying more attention to your surroundings, you notice that there’s an empty plate on top of the counter and you can assume that Osamu gave him food prior to your arrival.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that this is your brother.” You shrug off your jacket as you walk further into the building and address Osamu casually.

“What gave it away? The nose or the ears?” Osamu jokingly teases as he shoves the bag of rice off his shoulders to one of the lower shelves.

“You never told me you had a twin,” you respond with an equally playful tone.

“Never asked.”

You briefly glance to check the clock on the wall. “You’re here pretty early. Did I miss something?”

Your boss shook his head as he straightened up. He then pointed towards his brother who was just watching you two converse with intrigued eyes. “Nah. He’s here to eat something before practice and wouldn’t stop nagging me to make him something, which is why I’m here earlier than I should be, sleep deprived and all.”

“Sounds like you had a rough morning,” you laughed.

“Um, hello? I’m still here,” Atsumu interjected with a slightly sassy tone. “By the way, I didn’t catch your name, and your boss kept telling me to figure it out myself.”

You take a mental note at how petty your boss could be with his brother and stifle a laugh. “It’s (Surname) (Name).”

The corners of Atsumu’s mouth lifted upward. “Glad I could finally put a name to your face, (Name)-chan.”

Okay, you were definitely not used to someone calling you by your first name in such a casual manner, so you couldn’t stop yourself from getting a bit flustered. This did not go unnoticed by both twins, their eyes taking in the pink tint on your cheeks.

Not wanting to expose yourself any more than you already have, you look away and head towards the back room. “I’m just gonna go get ready really quick!”

Once you’ve put your things down and secured the apron around your waist, you walked back to the main room. The brothers have occupied themselves with other things in the meantime. Atsumu is scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, while Osamu is prepping the display case to get ready to open soon. You figured you should stay productive too and make your way to the fridge. You peek inside through the glass door and notice that there’s a shortage in beverages.

“Miya-”

You’re at a loss of words when both brothers set their gazes on you once again.

“Atsumu’s fine by me, sweetheart.” The blonde man smirks at your conflicted expression.

“Stop flirting with my employee. And, she wasn’t talking to you, you scrub.” Osamu sighed and brushed his hands on his thighs before turning his body to face you. “What’s up?”

“I think we forgot to pick up some drinks yesterday.” You pointed towards the bare shelves in the fridge. There were a couple green teas and carbonated drinks, but it definitely wasn’t enough to last the rest of the day. The last thing you’d want to do is disappoint any of the customers.

“Ah, shoot. You’re right. I was supposed to take care of that last night.” Your boss looks up at the clock and sees that there’s still some time before you have to open. “I’ll head out and bring those in really quick. You think you can babysit this guy for a bit?”

“Hey! I’m not a little kid!”

“Yup! Leave it to me!”

“Woah, woah! Hold up now!”

Completely ignoring his brother’s protests, Osamu leaves the shop in your hands to bring in the drinks from a convenience store a couple blocks down. This left you and Atsumu in each other’s company for the time being. Not really having much to do until the drinks come in, you just position yourself in front of the register as usual, checking to see if everything is set up correctly. Atsumu seems to take this as his cue to have a one-on-one chat with you.

“So, what’d you do to get the job? Bribe? Save a life? Cast a spell?”

You tilt your head in confusion and blink once. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Atsumu raises his arms in emphasis. “‘Samu doesn’t just let anyone work here. This place is practically his child. Protects it at all costs. It’s the reason why it’s just been him for so long even though it can get pretty busy around here”

“Oh, uh, I just applied and he accepted me.” You would be lying if you said that you weren’t surprised when you found out that he was the only other worker when you got the job.

“Interesting…”

Feeling a bit uncomfortable over how Atsumu was practically trying to analyze you and borderline interrogate you, you try to switch topics. “Seems like you know your brother pretty well.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of inevitable when we share the same face. Although, I personally think I am the more good-looking twin.”

You sweatdropped. “Well, despite the way you look, you guys are definitely different in a lot of ways.”

“For sure! Sometimes we can be complete opposites!” Atsumu nods his head in agreement.

“Does that mean you’re a bad cook?” You take this opportunity to tease the blonde, but start to regret it after you see a competitive glint in his eyes.

“No way! I’m a great man in the kitchen! Just watch! I’m gonna whip up an onigiri that’s on par with that fool!” Atsumu stands up from his stool and marches over to the other side of the counter.

“That’s probably not a good ide-”

“Relax! I got this!” Famous last words.

As soon as Atsumu was in reach of anything on the work space, all hell broke loose. As he placed some sticky rice into his hands, his elbow knocked over an entire container of sesame seeds, while his other arm ripped a couple sheets of nori* during his attempt to catch the tumbling seeds. A couple eggs fell out of a carton that Osamu had left aside due to the ruckus, painting the floors with yolk, and somehow the rice on Atsumu’s palm had ended up splattering onto his chin.

You watched everything unfold with distressed shock. “What are you doing?! Are you trying to get me fired?!”

“I didn’t mean to do that, I swear!” The clumsy man just furrowed his brows as he frantically tried to stop anything else from going wrong. Trying your best to calm him down and avoid making more of a mess, you closed the distance between you and held onto his forearms.

“Hey, calm down, or you might trigger something else. Let’s just clean this quickly before your brother comes back or we’re both good as dead.”

That surely got Atsumu’s attention and the two of you quickly began to clean up the mess. You grabbed the nearest cleaning cloth, while he took a hold of the trash can. In just a matter of minutes, the workstation was already starting to look as neat as it was before. If it wasn’t such a ridiculous situation, you could honestly say that you and him were a pretty good team when faced with Osamu’s potential wrath.

It wasn’t until you were finished sanitizing the counter space did you notice the pieces of rice that were stuck on Atsumu’s face. “Hey, you still have some rice on your face.”

“Again?” He tries to wipe off his face with a napkin like he did before, while he occasionally asks you if he got everything. You point out the ones he misses, but he keeps missing one rice grain on the corner of his mouth.

Feeling a bit impatient, you lean towards Atsumu and he stiffens his movements. “Here, let me help. Hold still.”

You cup his cheek with your fingers to make sure he doesn’t move. Using your other hand, you gently remove the last rice piece, your fingers lightly brushing over his bottom lip unintentionally. Atsumu just stays completely quiet as you do wonders to his poor heart. He even unconsciously leans into your touch, but you’re too focused on the task at hand to notice.

“Got it.” You give him a triumphant smile, but falter as you notice Atsumu’s expression which held a certain softness to it with something else you can’t quite pinpoint.

Atsumu snaps out of his trance when you let go of his cheek and his entire face heats up, red crawling up to the tips of his ears. You pull away and discard the rice into the trash.

“T-t-thanks.”

Atsumu quickly turns his back towards you and wipes a small smudge on one of the containers, willing his heart to calm down from its fast beating. You think he’s acting a bit strange, but brush it off for now.

The only thing left to clean was the sticky floor. You’re about to mop up the egg remnants when you hear a voice call for your name at the front of the restaurant. “Hey, (Surname)-san! Can you open the door? My hands are kind of full.”

You and Atsumu look at each other with wide eyes, both realizing that you haven’t finished cleaning and Osamu was right outside the door. You hunch over and Atsumu mirrors you. Cue the furious whispering.

“What do we do?!”

“What do you mean, what do we do?! We gotta scrub the floor clean until he sees it!”

“But, he’s right outside!”

“Well you better figure something out, ‘cause if I don’t open that door right now, he’s gonna get suspicious!”

With that, you straightened up and made your way to the entrance, making sure to take your time with each step. You hear quite a bit of shuffling behind you but choose to pray that everything will work out. Once you reach the door, you slide it open for Osamu to enter. He was holding three boxes of drinks, the bulging veins in his arms indicated how heavy they were.

“You sure took your sweet time.”

You laughed nervously. “Sorry about that. I was in the back room.”

When the two of you walk back to the counter, the blonde is nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, it seems like he was able to get everything done. The floor was spotless, maybe even a little too clean.

Suddenly you hear the bathroom door slam shut and turn your head towards the sound. Atsumu is walking out with slightly wet sleeves, so you assume that he just washed his hands.

“You’re still here?” Osamu just gives his brother a blank look as he places the drinks down next to the fridge. “Don’t you have to go to practice soon?”

The other twin just shrugs his shoulders. “Eh. Not for like another hour.”

“Then, why the hell did you make me wake up so early to make you food?” One of Osamu’s eyes started twitching.

“I was hungry.”

“Die.”

Ignoring his brother’s bitterness, Atsumu sat at one of the stools near you and leaned his head against his arm. “(Name)-chan, you should try my favorite onigiri flavor!”

Your eyes light up at the mention of the first onigiri your boss made you. “Oh! The Minced Tuna and Spring Onion one right?”

Atsumu looked a bit surprised. “Yeah...how’d you know?”

“Your brother let me try it about a week ago after my shift.”

“Wait,” the man in front of you paused for a moment before a realization hit him. “You’re the reason why I had to eat cereal for dinner that one time?!”

You’re a bit stunned for a moment and direct your next question to Osamu who’s not even trying to hide his smirk. “I thought you said he’d get takeout?”

“Not my fault. This idiot dropped his wallet in the toilet and couldn’t remember where he kept his credit card.” Your boss just casually crosses his arms. “Turns out I conveniently forgot my wallet at the shop that day too.”

“Yeah, you made up for that today, you scrub,” Atsumu scoffs. You just watch the petty banter between the twins, discreetly enjoying their strange way of communicating.

Their conversation was interrupted when Atsumu’s phone vibrated indicating an incoming message. He checks his phone and quietly reads its contents before abruptly standing from his position and stretching. “Well, this was nice and all, but Bo-kun is asking for some extra spiking practice, so I’m gonna head out. I’ll be back soon, (Name)-chan, so don’t miss me too much!”

As Atsumu pocketed his phone, he leaned against the counter where you stood and held out a fist. “I had fun today.”

You laughed softly with a small smile on your face and reciprocated the fist bump. “See you around, Atsumu-san.”

The blonde just waved an arm at his brother, who couldn’t care less, and left without another word. Although, Osamu did nod his head in acknowledgement.

You didn’t think you’d have to deal with so much drama before the shop even opened, but at least you got to meet the brother with good taste.

Today had been another successful day at work. There were quite a few customers and all of the onigiri sold out by closing time. You stretched your arms to relieve some of the tension from standing in the same position all day. Osamu seemed to be doing the same as he rolled his shoulders back and forth.

There was a lingering question that you’ve wanted to ask him since this morning. “Just out of curiosity, is your brother a volleyball player too?”

“Yeah. Do you remember that owl-looking guy from last week? They’re on the same team.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were pretty familiar with him.”

Osamu nodded his head. “I’m surprised the whole team hasn’t come in yet. They frequent this place since it’s convenient and has decent prices. You’ll probably meet all of them pretty soon.”

You just hummed at his words.You were ready to start sweeping and moved your arm in the direction of the broom.

“My turn to ask, then.” Osamu stated. “What’d you guys talk about while I was gone this morning?”

You hand froze in the air. “With Atsumu-san?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh...um…” You tried to think of something to cover up any suspicions Osamu may have, but he was already on to you.

“He did something stupid.”

You looked at your boss in the eye and sheepishly laughed. Might as well just tell him the truth. “Maybe crack some eggs and ruin some rice?”

Osamu sighed. “I figured. I did think it was a little weird when I saw the trash half full when we hadn’t even opened yet. There was also a very conveniently placed newspaper at the very top covered in yolk. Not to mention the eggs shells tangled in the mop.”

You silently cursed at Atsumu’s carelessness, but didn’t hold it against him since you both were in a rush to get everything clean. Before you had the chance to defend yourself, Osamu spoke up once again.

“Glad you told me the truth though, or I might’ve fired you.”

Panic. You are struck with panic at the mention of possibly getting fired. Your mind reels with everything that could possibly go wrong in your life if you were to lose this job, but Osamu’s amused laugh cuts off your thoughts.

“I’m just messing with you. I know how insufferable ‘Tsumu can be when he sets his mind to something.” He pats your head lightly. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you go so easily.”

“Thanks, Miya-san.” You silently let out a small sigh of relief. There’s a short pause as the two of you just stand in place facing each other. Osamu looks a bit tense and turns his head away to look at the fake plant on the counter to his right.

“...Osamu.”

You pause with bewilderment and look up to catch his eyes. “...what?”

He moves his arm to rub his neck and avoids your gaze. “You can call me Osamu.”

You hesitate a bit and take in Osamu’s shy attitude. “But, you’re my boss…?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you called me by my first name. P-plus my brother shows up way more than he should, so it’ll probably get confusing,” He quickly rationalized, but his red cheeks said otherwise.

At this point, you’re both a bit flustered. In any other situation, something like this probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but this conversation seems oddly intimate.

“O-okay. Then, you can call me by my first name too, O-Osamu...san”

“Sound good, (Name)-san.”

Nori = the seaweed stuff

A/N: I know this is supposed to be a gen fic, but I couldn’t help but add in a bit of fluff when it involves the twins

#haikyuu #onigiri miya #onigiri miya tidbits #secretpeachtea #osamu #atsumu

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abused-sides · 5 years ago

Note

Could you write maybe a short angst/fluff thing about them discovering each others triggers and talking about them and how to avoid them? (My family and the people around me dont really respect mine so this is kinda just a request for me to project onto 😅 you absolutely dont have to tho)

fuck your family we’re your family now

Trigger warning: This au follows the sides as abuse survivors.

Other tws for: Yelling, arguments, passive aggression, non-censored homophobic slur used to talk about oneself, sl*t used in a joking and literally not at all degrading/mean manner also non-censored, drama violence (like reading a script), flashback/panic attack, ableism off screen, throw up mention, allergies mention, glass breaking, lmk if i missed anything! <3

enjoy the hurt/comfort lol it took me like an hour and a half xD

Edit: love when it just doesn’t fucking add the read more :) sorry about that guys

Virgil:

-While Virgil was helping Patton fix dinner, Roman and Logan started an argument at the table. Logan was upset that Roman hadn’t finished his chore list for the week, but Roman insisted that he would finish it and he just needed some extra time to work on commissions.

-Logan: We all have jobs, Roman, we still manage to get our chores done! This place is a mess half of the time and that’s largely due to you neglecting the list.

-Roman: Why are you acting like some weekly chore list is worth more than our jobs? Isn’t that why we moved in together, to pursue our passions?

-Logan: How are we meant to do that when we’re living in a mess?

-Roman: You’re completely overreacting.

-Logan: Fine. You’re right. I’ll just do everything. Sorry to be a bother.

-Virgil had slipped away from his job chopping vegetables to glance at the missing items on Roman’s chore list. The first one read sweep and mop the floors. He silently took the broom from its spot between the fridge and the counter, and worked on piling up the mess on the floor.

-Logan was about to storm out of the room, when he noticed Virgil.

-Logan: Are you okay?

-Virgil: Hm? I’m fine.

-Logan: You’re shaking.

-Patton: Of course he’s shaking. Would it kill you two to be nicer to each other?

-Realization dawned on Logan’s face. He bit his lip as he thought, and then turned to Roman.

-Logan: I don’t like it when you neglect your chore list. I understand you’re busy, but it makes life harder for all of us.

-Virgil stopped sweeping, looking at Logan in confusion.

-Roman was just as confused.

-Roman: I... Yeah, I got that, weirdo.

-Logan: I want to make sure there’s no confusion. Do you have anything you want to say to me?

-Roman’s eyes flicked between Virgil- Shaking, gripping the broom, staring at them with wide eyes -and nodded slowly.

-Roman: Some weeks I can’t complete the entire chore list. Finishing my commissions are more important. The kitchen can be cleaned later.

-Patton: And I can help! I don’t mind chipping in on chores.

-Logan: I can live with that. I’m going to my room.

-After that, there was an unspoken agreement to state things plainly, especially when fighting, and to try and keep the yelling at a minimum. Janus and Remus may have appreciated it even more than Virgil did.

Patton:

-Janus and Remus were visiting for a movie night, and they were still setting up. Patton fussed over the organization of the snack table, Roman over who sat where.

-Remus: I’ve got my seat!

-He flopped into Janus’ lap, who grunted.

-Janus: Jesus Christ, babe.

-Logan: You two are so...

-Remus: What? Sexy?

-Logan: No... Not the word I’m looking for.

-Remus: A cute couple of boys?

-Logan fought not to laugh.

-Logan: No... Not that, either.

-Remus: Just an attractive pair of young faggots?

-While Logan, Roman, and Janus burst out laughing, Patton choked. He covered his mouth and tried to recover, but the others laughing quickly died down.

-Virgil: *softly* Patton? Are you okay?

-Patton: I’m fine.

-He forced a weak smile.

-Patton: Are we ready for the movie?

-Remus: You look like you’re going to be sick. Is it something I said?

-Patton: It’s not a big deal-

-Janus: Bullshit. Tell us. What, Remus calling us faggots? It’s okay to laugh, we know we are.

-Patton didn’t take the bait, shakily sitting down. Janus’ grin faded.

-Patton: I just... I don’t like that word too much, I guess. It, um...

-Virgil: *quietly* Bad memories?

-Patton nodded quickly.

-Remus: Jesus! You should have told me! I’m sorry, Pat-A-Cake! I guess Janny and I have just been calling each other that for so long, I forgot it bothers some people.

-Janus: Yeah, um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have encouraged it, it wasn’t very-

-Patton: Guys, stop. You don’t have to apologize, okay? I’m okay.

-Roman opened his arms with a soft smile. Patton sighed happily and crawled into his lap, his back against Roman’s chest.

-Remus: So what can I say instead? Slu-

-Janus slapped his hand over Remus’ mouth.

-Janus: Why don’t you just try behaving?

-Patton: *laughing* No, I’m actually pretty used to that one. Roman can’t see a cute boy without calling himself that.

-Remus: Perfect. Was that the word you were looking for, Logan? Just a bunch of cute little sluts?

-Logan slapped his hand to his forehead.

-Logan: *dryly* That’s exactly the word I was looking for.

Logan:

-The morning was a busy one. Logan had three projects due that he’d somehow neglected, Roman had two auditions, Patton had an increase in orders to pass out, and Virgil had an interview for an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlour.

-Everyone raced around the kitchen-- No time for a family breakfast today. Logan banged at the coffee maker as it went painfully slow, Patton trying to carefully package a box of cupcakes. Roman slid between the two of them to get to the fridge, nearly tripping over Logan’s feet.

-Roman: Hey, watch out! Tryna get out the door here!

-Logan stiffened.

-Logan: Apologies, Roman.

-Roman looked at him in confusion at the formal tone, but shook it off and grabbed his water bottle so he could race out the door. Soon, the apartment was empty, everyone left to their respective tasks.

-Logan didn’t come home for a while.

-Patton left a sticky note on Logan’s door to say his dinner was packed up in the fridge for whenever he wanted it, but couldn’t stop feeling worried. He stayed up until 4am on the couch watching cartoons, eventually passing out.

-When Logan still wasn’t home in the morning, Roman carried Patton to bed and stormed across the hall.

-He rapped loudly on the door. It swung open a moment later, revealing the tired, angry face of his brother.

-Remus: What do you want?

-Roman: Is Logan with you?

-Remus: Well, I know where he’s not.

-Roman: I’m not fucking around. Just tell me-- We’re worried about him!

-Remus arched an eyebrow, a sick grin spreading across his face.

-Remus: *whispering* Are you now?

-Roman: What’s going on? Is he okay?

-Remus: *voice still hushed* You would think out of all of us, you and I would know better. You and I would know exactly what to say to make someone feel worthless. The difference is, it’s usually me who says it, and you who avoids it.

-Roman: I don’t get it. What did I say? Did I hurt him?

-Remus: He feels like a waste of space in his own home!

-Roman pushed past Remus into the apartment, finding Logan asleep, Janus curled around him protectively.

-Roman: Logan!

-Logan and Janus both startled awake. Janus glared and hissed.

-Roman: My God, why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t coming home? We were so worried! Patton stayed up all night waiting for you! Why was your phone off?!

-Logan frowned in confusion and sat up, self-consciously scooting away from Janus and brushing his arm away. He found his glasses and put them on.

-Logan: What? I just figured, the apartment seemed cramped lately, people were getting cranky. Janus and Remus offered to let me stay before in the past, so I thought I might give you all some space.

-Roman shook his head wildly.

-Roman: Why would you think that? You scared us! Dinner’s still waiting for you in the fridge, and- and you could have at least called us to let us know!

-Logan fought not to shrink in on himself. He was silent for a while, before he said, quietly, confused, “I thought this was what you wanted.”

-Roman: No. Where did you-

-Roman paused.

-He felt so stupid.

-Roman: No- God, Logan, I’m so... I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry I ran into you, and then...

-Janus and Remus looked at Logan, waiting his response before reacting.

-Logan: It’s okay, Roman. I guess I just got confused. Has Patton started on breakfast yet?

-Roman: No, he’s asleep.

-Logan: I’ll make breakfast. I’ll be there in five minutes.

-Remus gripped Roman’s shoulder.

-Remus: I’ll show you out.

Roman:

-Roman and Remus were in the main four’s living room, scripts in each hand. Roman had asked Remus’ help in reading lines for a scene, and they had both gotten way too into it.

-Patton: Be careful with my throw pills! My sister stitched those!

-Remus cackled maniaclly from his position on the couch, a plastic sword held at Roman’s throat.

-Remus: Now what did I tell you?!

-Roman, on his knees on the carpet, faked a pained groan.

-Roman: It’s not true.

-Remus: Still thinking that, huh? What do I have to do to get it through your head? Beat it out of you?!

-Remus lurched forward with his fake sword.

-Roman’s heart stopped, the blood drained from his face, and he threw himself away from Remus’ advance. He fell back, nearly knocking his head against the coffee table they moved, crossing his arms in front of his face.

-Remus: Roman? *nervous laughter* Come on, I know I’m not that good an actor. Are you... Okay?

-Roman shakily lowered his arms, staring at Remus with wide, paranoid eyes. He gasped for breath.

-Patton jumped up from the kitchen table and raced into the living room. Remus caught Patton by the waist as Roman flinched and covered his face again.

-Patton’s eyes welled up.

-Patton: Roman? Roman, what’s wrong?

-Remus: *mumbling* Go sit on the couch, I’ll wave you over.

-Patton didn’t want to, but he listened. Remus sat on the ground, plenty of space between him and his brother.

-Remus: Ro? I need you to look around, tell me five things you can see.

-Roman: Stained- Stained glass.

-Remus: There’s no stained glass here. Look around, harder. What do you see?

-Roman: Your stupid mustache.

-Remus: *laughing* Yeah, that’s good. What else?

-Roman: Um... Um- The- The carpet.

-Remus: What colour is the carpet?

-Roman: Green- No. No, it’s beige.

-Roman ran his fingers along the beige carpet, trying to control his breathing.

-Remus: That’s good. Three more.

-Roman: I see Patton. Um, his glasses. There’s flour on his hands. Does that count?

-Remus: Sounds like five to me. Four things you can touch?

-Roman: Carpet. Um, my shirt. The table. Y-You?

-Remus scooted forward slowly and opened his arms for Roman to curl into. Remus held him tight, his chin rested on Roman’s shoulder.

-Remus: Tell me three things you can hear.

-Roman: Your heartbeat. Patton crying- Patton, please, love, I’m okay.

-Patton: I- I know. I’m sorry. I just- I know.

-Roman: Patton’s voice.

-Remus: Two things you can smell.

-Roman: That awful deodorant you use. And Janus, for some reason.

-Remus: One thing you can taste?

-Roman: Salt.

-Remus: You back in the present now?

-Roman buried his face in Remus’ chest. Remus held him tightly and waved Patton over. Patton staggered to his feet and Remus gently transferred Roman to curl in Patton’s lap, who cooed in his ear and kissed over the side of his face. Remus quietly slipped out of the apartment.

Remus:

-Janus: Remus? What’s wrong?

-Remus didn’t answer, slamming the door shut and headed straight for the bathroom. The water turned on a moment later.

-Janus looked through Remus’ drawer for his meds and counted them carefully. He’d taken his dosages. He settled against the headboard and waited for Remus to finish showering.

-About an hour later, Janus was startled awake to a wet pressure on his chest.

-Janus: *mumbling* Ew. You couldn’t have dried off? Got dressed?

-Remus looked up at him with wide, teary eyes. Janus raked his fingers through Remus’ hair and kissed his forehead.

-Remus: It doesn’t matter.

-Janus: It does. Was it that bitch again?

-Remus: She is a bitch.

-Janus: Exactly. What’d she say this time?

-Remus settled back against Janus’ chest.

-Remus: *mumbling* It doesn’t matter. She’s right.

-Janus: I doubt she’s ever been right about anything in her life, especially my Remus. So what did she say? I need to prove her wrong. Proving people wrong is kind of my thing.

-Remus let out a breathy laugh.

-Remus: I got upset again. A family told her about their child’s allergy, and she didn’t tell me. I made the dish normally and the girl threw up and had to go home. I started yelling, because I mean I was freaking out, what if I’d killed her? If it was a more severe allergy, she- she couldn’t have been older than seven, it could have killed her just being on the table, and- and-

-Janus: Hey, baby, take a second to breathe. Just breathe with me for a second, okay?

-Janus took in a deep breath, his chest raising and lowering Remus gently as he followed the pattern.

-Remus: She told me to stop worrying about it, that I was delusional. She asked if I remembered my meds. She said I was overreacting.

-Janus’ hold on Remus tightened as hatred boiled in his stomach.

-Janus: I’m going to get that bitch fired.

-Remus: Janus, no, I probably-

-Janus: You did not overreact. She didn’t tell you, and not only could that have killed the girl, it could have ruined your life. We can’t afford a good lawyer, they would pin it on you and shove it under the rug. And you’re not fucking delusional.

-Remus: I do... Have... Delusions...?

-Janus: That doesn’t have anything to do with this!

-Remus laughed weakly.

-Janus: Yeah, you have delusions that the girl on the fifth floor runs a meth lab, and that someone lives in the basement, but that- That was not a delusion. She should be put in jail!

-Remus raised his head and kissed Janus softly. He nuzzled into his neck, and Janus hugged him tight.

-Janus: I checked your meds. You’re completely caught up.

-Remus: I know.

-Janus: And you’re not crazy.

-Remus: I know.

-Janus: And I love you.

-Remus: I know. I love you, too.

Janus:

-Janus had snuck into the other apartment to see if Patton had any leftovers from his last orders. The others were asleep, but he knew they wouldn’t care. Patton left notes on the things no one could touch.

-He found a small plate of assorted cookies with no warning, and settled at the table to eat a few.

-On his way to put them back, someone on the floor above them screamed a string of curses, and a door slammed. Janus flinched, his shaky hands loosing hold of the plate. His heart dropped as it shattered along the tile.

-He couldn’t breathe.

-Clean it up and leave, go, now!

-Hurry up! Before someone finds you!

-Don’t worry about clean up, just go! You weren’t here!

-Logan: Janus?

-Janus’ head snapped up. He spoke before thinking about the words coming out.

-Janus: I just got here. I don’t know what happened, I was about to clean it up. It wasn’t me.

-Logan raised an eyebrow, eyes sleepy.

-Logan: *flatly* Really?

-That was the worst lie you’ve ever told in your life.

-His stomach coiled in embarrassment. He forced up a smile.

-Janus: I know what it looks like. But I assure you, it wasn’t me.

-He reached for the broom, but Logan carefully stepped over the glass and grabbed Janus’ wrist.

-Logan: Janus-

-Janus: *gasping* I’m sorry! It wasn’t me!

-Logan: Janus. I’m not angry! What’s the matter?

-Janus hesitantly met Logan’s eyes. Logan’s soft, worried eyes.

-Logan: You know I would never hurt you.

-Janus: Of course.

-Logan: I’ll clean this up. Do you... Want to stay over?

-Janus’ heart stuttered.

-Janus: If you want me to, I suppose I could stomach it.

-Logan smiled a little.

-Logan: You suppose?

-Janus: I suppose.

-Logan: I’ll meet you in there.

-Janus’ heartrate had slowly gone back to normal as he laid in Logan’s bed. A few minutes later, Logan slipped in behind him, hesitantly resting a hand on Janus’ hip.

-Janus rolled over and pulled Logan into his arms. Logan sighed in content, nuzzling into his chest.

-Janus: I didn’t break the plate.

-Logan: It doesn’t matter who broke the plate.

#virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #roommates au #abuse tw #abuse mention

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detectivedreameater · 5 years ago

Text

Trust Fall || Marley and Erin

TIMING: About a week ago PARITES: @corpse--diem and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Erin gets to see Marley’s new organizational method for herself and it does not bolster confidence. CONTENT: Head trauma, Head Injury, Seizure, Medical Talk

Buying up the entire stock of sticky notes from Took’s was probably not the greatest look, but Marley really didn’t care at this point. The cashier had given her the strangest look, and although she could’ve come up with a witty retort, she’d remained silent and matched his gaze instead. Now, her house was littered with them. Trash cans already full with old, irrelevant ones. They were tacked on walls and on the front door and even on the kitchen counters or along the railing up to her bedroom. And each of them was important to her. Little reminders of things she was supposed to know or do, time records kept of when she did things or went to close her eyes. There were even sticky notes reminding her about people, or with random thoughts she had that she was sure would slip away from her mind if she didn’t write them down. And in the middle of her office, printed out and pasted up, was the article about Lydia Griffin. Marley was sitting on her couch staring at it, as if somehow the answers to how she was feeling would reveal themselves if she looked long enough, hard enough. Maybe all the letters and words would mix themselves up and scramble into some sort of answer. Tell her that she should be angry, like her stomach felt. Tell her that it was okay to be upset, like her throat felt. Tell her it was okay to be torn, like her heart felt. But the longer she stared, the less things made sense.

When she came back into the present world, she glanced down at the sticky note on the table in front of her. It read: 12:47pm. Marley looked at her clock on her phone and it read 3:28pm. Fuck. That was so long. The gaps in her blackouts were getting longer. She stood up and the sticky note on the table reminding her that Erin was coming over at 3:30 today fluttered onto the ground. She scraped her way into the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack, pressing it to her temple when the door rattled and opened and she nearly jumped from her skin, giving a little yelp. “Jesus, Erin, you scared the shit out of me,” she grumbled, when she looked up and saw who it was. She shook her head, let out a long breath. “You...I knew you were coming over,” she said, looking away. It was clear she’d forgotten, but she didn’t want to admit it. She cleared her throat, looked back to the multitude of stickies she had around her apartment and swallowed. “Guess I just lost track of time.” Again.

Things didn’t feel entirely mended yet. It wasn’t something Erin expected to happen automatically after Marley showed up trashed on her doorstep a few weeks ago but it sure as hell wasn’t going to deter her from being a presence in her life. That spectacle had only proven Marley needed someone, now more than ever. From what she could tell, she’d pushed mostly everyone else out of her life. There wasn’t much for Erin to lose at this point. Her war with Roy and the aftermath had all but demolished what she still had. Her best friend wasn’t going to be one of them. He wasn’t going to take this away from her either. And she’d be damned if she let her idiocy and stubbornness drive Marley away either.

There was no answer when she knocked immediately. Wasn’t a cause for concern just yet but she pulled out the spare key to Marley’s apartment anyway, trying to make as much noise as possible when she walked in. “Anyone home?” She called out, only to earn a small yelp from Marley on entrance. But that wasn’t what caught her eye. It was what caught onto her that made the most impact. She’d already stepped onto a neon pink post-it, as a few others floated off the back of the door on her way in. “Guess so…” she mumbled distractedly and out of confusion and a little bit of anxious concern, a low laugh filled the room. “I didn’t know I’d be walking in an office supply wonderland when I got here,” she teased, picking up the notes as they fell. Little notes scribbled on them--Feed JD, Keys, Lock the door--among a few of them. Oh. Erin’s smile dropped almost immediately. “How’s, uh--how’s this working out for you?”

Marley narrowed her eyes a little as she watched Erin shut the door and pick up a few of the notes that had been stuck to it. Of the ones she remembered putting up, Lock the door and Do you have your phone? Were the most prevalent, but she knew she’d pasted a few other concerning ones over there. She turned away and went over to her little fridge, pulling out two beers and setting one on the counter for Erin. She then popped open her pain pills and dumped one out. “It works better than having nothing,” she said, flipping the cap off her bottle and holding out the bottle opener for Erin, “or trying to remember to set alarms on my phone that I sleep through anyway.” She realized that nothing she was saying would build any sort of confidence in Erin that she was dealing okay with whatever was going on with her head, but she didn’t have the energy to fight or pretend anymore. She took her bottle back over to the couch and covered up a few of the more concerning notes like Did you eat this week? with little checks under it and You left Anita, DON’T CALL HER underlined about three times. “You should try it sometime.”

Erin felt the humor leave her and the concern mounting the longer Marley spoke. And when she took her pain medication with her beer right in front of Erin, she knew this—all of this—was the closest thing for a cry for help as it got with Marley. She wasn’t even trying to hide her misery. “You know there’s way better ways to organize and remember things right?” She offered lightly, taking the beer from the counter, following her. She was by far not an expert in this, or helping people with TBIs manage their lives after their accidents. And Marley had been especially difficult, pushing away any semblance of help that came her way. But Erin had promised, she’d pushed back, and now she was here. To help. Just as she said she would. “Hey, you’ve seen my planner, right? Maybe we can get you something like that set up? One place where all of your thoughts and reminders are organized? Because this—“ she gestured toward the sticky notes around them, starting to pluck them from the various surfaces around the room. “This—is not it.”

Marley followed Erin with her eyes as she came over to the couch and sat with her. For some reason, her statements made Marley’s stomach curl and she felt that hot anger burning in her throat again. “Yeah, see-- the problem with a planner is still remembering to actually fill it out,” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked away from Erin, wondering why she felt so strangely uncomfortable with her next to her. Shifted slightly. She didn’t want to still be angry at her, but she didn’t get to choose a lot of things she wanted anymore, did she? She leaned forward and plucked one of the time stamp notes she’d written and crumpled it in her hand before flicking it away. “I’m fine,” was all she said, “this is working fine.”

It was hard not to feel that ire that rose in Marley’s words. Whether they were because of Erin or because of her own frustrations. Either way, she could understand, and she did her best to keep her temperament level. Her eyes followed the sticky note flying through the air and hit the floor, nerves starting to build in her stomach. After a long moment, she turned to Marley, finding her gaze the best she could. “You don’t seem fine,” she said quietly. It wasn’t coming from a place of judgment. Just concern. Everything she was seeing, and had noticed for weeks now, only made that fear grow more intensely. “You don’t have to be fine either, you know. I can help you if you want. You just have to let me. Even if it’s just organizing your thoughts. If there’s anything I’m good at, you know it’s organizing.”

That was apparently Marley’s last straw. Unfurling her arms, she stood up from the couch, striding away quickly. “Don’t tell me how I’m feeling, Erin!” she snapped, running her hands through her hair. She turned on her heel to glare at her, but the headache was getting worse and she pressed her palms to her eyes. “I don’t need help, okay? I just need--” she gestured around, then realized she didn’t know what she needed, words falling short, “-- I just need--” but she still couldn’t think of anything, so, instead, she turned away again and shook her head, holding her anger back as best she could. “If you just came here to patronize me, then just leave.”

Erin startled a little when Marley jumped from the couch. She didn’t think she’d be immediately onboard to accept help, that had never been in Marley’s nature as long as she'd known her, but the outburst took her off guard. “What? No. No--I’m not trying to tell you how to feel about anything, and god no, I’m not patronizing you,” she said, shaking her head, standing slowly from the couch. “But can you honestly truly tell me you’re fine? After showing up on my doorstep after binge drinking for three days straight when your friend died, or after breaking up with Anita, or being surrounded by all of this, after everything--I just don’t understand how you can sit there and just tell me that you’re fine?”

“She’s not my--” Marley immediately snapped, but the last word wouldn’t come out, “She’s wasn’t--” she tried again, but her throat closed up once more, “We weren’t…” but her fight was already giving up. She backed away from Erin when she stood, avoiding her gaze. “Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to be, Erin?” she asked, throwing her arms out. “I’m fine because I don’t-- I don’t know how to be anything else!” Her throat felt like it was closing up, and her heart hammered in her chest. Something stung deep inside of her and she had to look away again. “I just want everything to go back to normal and I can’t do that if I’m not fine.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you are because you won’t tell me,” Erin snapped back. Of course she couldn’t force her to tell her what was going on behind her eyes, but it was just so painfully obvious things weren’t okay. Things hadn’t been okay for way too long now. Marley had every right to hate it, to want to shield herself from this difficult transition. One she knew she’d played a part in. Marley was the only reason she was still alive, standing here with just a cast on her wrist to show for it all. She stifled the emotions building in her chest, all of the guilt and pain that came with seeing her friend like this, and forced herself to temper her voice. “Things aren’t ever going to back to normal, Marley. They’re just not. I’m sorry. But the sooner you recognize and accept that, the sooner you can get to a new normal.”

“What difference would it make if you did know!?” Marley shouted back, unable to hold the pain in anymore. “Are you a fucking miracle worker? If I confess my feeling to you, can you make it all go away and feel better? Can you reverse the damage your old boss did to me?” Her anger roiled through her like a jolt and she couldn’t help but slam her palm against the wall next to her. She drew in a breath and held it for a moment, as pain pounded in her head. She was starting to get dizzy. “I don’t want a new normal! I want my old normal! I want to go back to before all of this happened! To before we were friends, to before I told Anita I wanted her-- to before all you people made me feel like I somehow deserved to be happy.” Because what a ridiculous lie that was. Marley didn’t get to be happy, that’s what life had taught her, and for those small moments where she’d decided maybe that was wrong, life had come back to teach her the exact same lesson, but harder this time. More permanent. “I don’t want whatever I am now. I don’t want--” and she gestured around wildly, to the mess of her apartment, to the sticky notes tacked everywhere, to the strained relationship between her and Erin, and she felt her eyes burning-- “this.”

There was nothing Erin could do but let Marley yell, her frustrations and anger boiling over, overflowing into the air around them. She needed this. She deserved this. Even if Erin had never felt more helpless as she let her frustrations and hands fly, she knew all of that to be true. Even if it all stung hard and deep, like a knife point slipping between her ribs. This was what needed to happen and knowing Marley, this was the only way, loud and angrily, that she would open up. “I know, Marley. I know--if I could take any of it back so you didn’t have to go through this, I’d do it. I would have switched places with you in that warehouse in a heartbeat. I would but I can’t. All I can do is try here. All we can both do is try.” She bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head slightly. “If you’ll let me. You don’t have to, after everything, I know that but--” her jaw tightened and she could only manage a brief glance back up to Marley. “I want to be here. I want you. Okay? And not just because you’re kind of all I have left right now too. But because whether you like it or not, we’re friends. I care about you. I want you to get back to a new normal. It’s to be hard and it’s going to suck, but you can do it. If anyone can, it’s you.”

“Try what, Erin? Try what?” Marley asked, her voice already breaking. She swallowed, tried to clear her throat. She shook her head and felt it pound with each movement, rubbing her temples roughly with her palms. “Try and live like this? Try and understand why this happened? Try and understand why my best friend let me wake up alone after we were attacked and I almost died for her?” She found she could look at Erin now, a desperation in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a look that she wasn’t even aware she was giving. “Erin...you let me wake up alone. After-- that. After I did that. After-- you-- I had no idea if you were even alive! I had no idea what had happened! Do you know how fucking scared I was? For you?” She shook her head again, the hurt evident on her face, in her eyes, as they pleaded with Erin. “ How can you-- how can you stand there in front of me and say that you want me when you let me wake up alone and afraid and terrified!?”

“Because I was afraid!” Erin snapped back. They were really doing this, right now, huh? She straightened, trying to calm herself down before continuing. “It was shitty and I regret it but I didn’t come right away because I was afraid, okay?” Even now she could feel the shame creeping up her skin. “I thought you were dead! I thought you were dead because you tried to save me and I couldn’t face it.” She was a coward who couldn’t face the consequences of her actions, not right away, but she could admit that now. “Losing you, on top of everything I’d already lost, on top of what everyone lost in my war against that bastard? It broke me. It was too much. I dropped the ball and I will never not be sorry for it, Marley.” She could feel her throat tighten, the regret burning at her eyes at the confession. She stepped forward slowly, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I’m here now. I’m here and I’m not leaving. Not again.”

“And you think I wasn’t!?” Marley balked. “I was scared out of my goddamn mind, which is saying a lot, considering half my mind is gone now!” She felt her chest heaving and suddenly she couldn’t control the white hot tears that began pouring down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry my death was that stressful to you! I just kinda thought that maybe, I don’t know-- risking my life for you would kind of outweigh that guilt. But I guess not! So, you know what? Fine. Just-- do what everyone else in my life has done and just fucking leave,” she barked, “just leave and just stay away because I can’t go through that again. I can’t do it. I can’t have someone only to lose them because it’s happened too much and I don’t want that anymore.” Her chest heaved again and she scrubbed her hands against her eyes, wiping the tears furiously away. Her tongue felt like it was going numb, suddenly. “I’m just you don’t get to this.” Wait, no...that wasn’t right. What had she just said? Marley blinked, scrunched her face, and looked over at Erin with mild confusion.

“That’s not fair,” Erin argued weakly, almost immediately losing much of her fight the moment she heard her voice crack and the tears rolling down her face. She moved closer, shaking her head. “I fucked up. I get that. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It’s because I do. Because you’re one of the most important people in my life and I almost lost you, and after we killed Roy it--it fucked with my head. It was too much. I know that probably doesn’t make sense but please don’t push me away,” she pleaded and stood firm in her spot. “I don’t want to leave.” When Marley’s words came out contorted, she could only stare back in confusion for a few seconds, brows narrowed in her direction, concern swallowing the fear she just felt thick in her chest. “...Marley?”

Marley blinked a few more times, her head feeling heavy. The room spun and she stumbled in her spot, catching herself on the wall. It felt like someone was inflating her skull and filling it up with cement and she buried her face in one of her hands, the other braced against the wall. “It’s-- I’m-- not fair? That’s n-not fair--” but words were no longer coming to her. Her tongue felt thick in her throat. She swallowed. “I just n-need to--” started moving towards the couch, “--I just need to s-s-sit dow--” but she didn’t get to finish. In the next moment, her legs gave out, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell to the ground, convulsing.

That same icy fear from the day in the warehouse chilled Erin to the bone as Marley fell back. This time she moved and ran towards her, their argument the farthest thing from her mind. Was this a seizure? It had to be, right? “Marley?” she called out, trying to remember how she was supposed to handle this. Panic surged through her as she watched her convulse, rising quickly in her chest. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” she said, even though she had no idea if that were true. Don’t touch her. She remembered that much, shoving away the furniture nearby. “I’m here. I’m here,” she repeated, kneeling down to her, her hands shaking.

The world was black for Marley, and time simply didn’t exist. She didn’t know how long she laid on the floor, convulsing, or how long it took her mind to come back to herself after she stopped, but when her eyes opened next, she was laying on her side on the floor with a pillow under her head. She blinked heavily, moaning with pain. Went to move her arms up to grab her head but they felt stiff, like styrofoam. A voice echoed into her head and she tried to look around, trying to recall what had last been happening. The voice became clearer and the figure in front of her came into view. “Erin…” she breathed, knitting her brows. “What--” she wanted to ask what happened, but by now, she knew. She stayed laying on the ground, looking up at her. “Fuck…”

There was nothing Erin could do but wait for this to pass. It was a helpless feeling and she hated it more than anything. All she could do was make Marley as safe and as comfortable as possible. That was the right call here, right? Fuck. Was she supposed to call an ambulance for something like this? Or her doctor? Fuck what was her name. Queenie? She only got as far as pulling her phone out when Marley’s voice cut through her panic. “Hey there,” she called softly, running a hand over her cheek, her eyes searching over her. “Marley? Don’t move just yet, okay? Can you hear me?” She asked, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

Erin’s voice was uncharacteristically soft and for a moment, Marley wondered if she’d been out longer than she thought. Had she remembered incorrectly? Were they not just fighting? She reached up, stiffly, and pushed her hand away. Her head pounded like a drum, throbbing with each beat of her heart, as she laid her hand back over her own head, covering her eyes. “I can hear you,” she muttered, “I’m not deaf.” Although her ears were ringing, she wasn’t about to point that out, too. Erin sounded-- and probably looked-- freaked out enough. “Water,” she croaked, still not looking at her, “please.”

Almost as if Marley hadn’t seized right in front of her, she was pushing Erin away. Conveniently not forgetting the fact that they had been fighting just minutes before this. About this. Her throat felt hot and thick. God, like she hadn’t felt guilty enough before, huh? She pulled her hand away but didn’t back off until she asked for water. “Sure, yeah. Water. I can do that,” she nodded, her voice still as soft and concerned as it was before. Quickly she grabbed a glass and filled it, her eyes on Marley as much as she could. “Should I call someone?” She asked, crouching to Marley’s level when she returned, still searching over her to make sure she hadn’t missed something. “Maybe Dr. Lin-King? Or—what can I do? What do you need?”

When Erin got up to get her some water, Marley lifted herself off the floor with a great effort, arms shaking. She leaned against the coffee table and put her head in her hands, trying to calm her breathing. When Erin returned, Marley didn’t look up, but she took the offered glass and had a long sip. “No,” she said shortly, “no-- you don’t need to call anyone, I--” she rubbed her head, set the water down-- her hands shook so greatly, so did the glass, and she tried her best to hide it. Started rustling through her sticky notes again, looking for her old time records. “How long did it last?” was all she asked, ignoring Erin’s offer of help.

“Just a few minutes, I think,” Erin answered quietly, slipping down and sitting beside her. Question after question sat at the tip of her tongue, coated in a heavy mixture of concern and fear. Knew Marley would prefer if she swallowed them all, and she wouldn’t throw them all at her at once in this condition, but she wasn’t about to move on from them all either. “What are you looking for?” She asked, sitting up, leafing through some of the one sticky notes nearby. Finally, she placed a hand on top of Marley’s, holding it down. “Stop,” she insisted now, her voice firmer. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you. This isn’t a suggestion anymore.” She moved to her feet, reaching down for Marley, determined, even if she was going to fight her. She wouldn’t allow it. Not after that. “C’mon. Let’s get you to the couch.”

They were here somewhere, strewn among the papers and notes on the table-- the other notes she’d written down the other times this had happened. Marley didn’t answer Erin at first, focusing on the task at hand, but then she put a hand on top of hers and Marley almost jerked away. She turned to look over at her, but Erin was standing, now, holding her hand out for Marley to take this time. She knew what it meant, if she took the offered help. She knew that the gesture was more than just that. Marley was falling apart, right before Erin’s eyes, and she’d tried time and time again to push her away, to get her out of her life, but Erin still stuck around. She’d said those words that only Anita had said to her-- I want you. It was in a capacity Marley hadn’t known very well until she’d met Erin. Until she found herself willing to die for Erin. Accepting help meant acknowledging there was something wrong with her, but what other choice did she have at this point? All she had left in this life was this. Was Erin.

Shakily, she reached out and took Erin’s hand. Her legs creaked with effort as she stood and made it the few steps to the couch, sinking back down. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, and ran her hands through her hair again. Stayed curled up for a moment, before she let out a long breath. “I’ve been keeping track of how long they last,” she muttered, “it’s on-- it’s somewhere on the table.” When she looked back up, she found Erin’s gaze-- it was full of fear and worry and confusion and Marley felt her chest squeeze again. “I don’t want this to be my new normal,” she whispered quietly.

Whether it was purely exhaustion or Marley’s way of accepting Erin’s help, for once, the relief that flooded her when she finally allowed her to walk her the few steps to the couch was unparalleled. She understood she was mad. Understood that there was validity to Marley’s stubbornness. Didn’t change the fact that this was Marley’s new normal. She needed help, if not from her, then someone else, but this wasn’t a point Marley could argue out of anymore. Deep down, Marley knew it too. She shuffled through the sticky notes, temporarily ignoring the nonchalant way Marley spoke about it. Clearly it was a regular occurrence and she hated that she was just finding this out. “Jesus Christ, Marley,” she mumbled to herself, shaking her head, the anger in her voice stemming from a very real fear. When she found the sticky note with numbers scribbled across it, her throat dried. “Marley…” she glanced over at her. “This isn’t--you can’t just--” The words weren’t coming. They were there, stuck in her throat, clogged with frustration and worry. “Marley, I’m sorry. I know. I don’t want this for you either but this is your new normal and you can’t be doing this. I don’t--I don’t know what to do but you can’t keep living like this.”

The anger in Erin’s voice came from a place that Marley didn’t entirely recognize. It wasn’t anger out of pain or hate or rage-- it was out of worry. Concern. Fear. Marley could feel it, the fear circling Erin’s stomach. She scrunched her face together for a moment and chewed on her lip, looking at the note Erin had found but not taking it. She swallowed thickly-- she didn’t have words for whatever it was she was feeling right now, but she knew it wasn’t normal. Something deep inside of her felt as if it were clawing its way out, up her esophagus and into her mouth. It made her throat itch and her tongue feel like sandpaper and the inside of her mouth tasted like metal. “Do you wish you’d never done it?” she asked quietly, not acknowledging the questions-- the concerns-- about her state of living quite yet. “Started this thing with Roy? Do you ever wish you’d just...kept your head down?”

Erin stiffened, her question throwing her off guard, immediately looking anywhere but Marley. Mouth opening, gaping like she wanted to answer her but nothing came, and she closed it again, stirring uncomfortably in her seat. “Sometimes,” she finally spoke. Didn’t think, just spurt out whatever came to mind first. Marley asked because she wanted honesty here, right? So that’s what she’d give her. “I thought I knew what I was going into, you know. I knew it was going to take chunks out of me. That it was going to take more than it gave. But I didn’t expect to take everything.” She paused, leaning forward onto her knees, running a hand down her cheek and through her hair. “It took everything. And not just from me.” She shook her head. But what were her other options? Live in fear of the law, toiling in the basement and handing off human remains for cash until the day that Roy decided he was done with her and gave her the same fate as Dale? She exhaled hard, shaking her head, fidgeting with her fingers. “I don’t know. I can’t change it now. I just know that I have to keep going or I’m letting a wishful fantasies I can’t do anything about destroy me.” She looked pointedly at Marley at that one. “It’s all any of us can do now.”

Marley listened to Erin’s words and let them sit in her stomach. Let what she was saying try and settle inside of her. There was an anger that kept trying to consume everything she said and turn it inside out and spit it back up. Step on. Set it on fire. But she was tired of the burning, and the pain and the anger. She was tired of being alone. Even if it hurt, even if she still didn’t fully trust Erin, everything she was saying was right-- Marley needed help. She was letting herself die and that-- that wasn’t what she wanted. “You didn’t...lose everything,” she mumbled quietly, not looking at Erin as she scooted her hand over and put it on top of one of Erin’s. “I’m still mad...about a lot, but you’re wrong.” She wasn’t sure what in her had changed-- maybe it was the fear in Erin’s voice of losing Marley that made her realize that she wasn’t alone, even if she wanted to be-- but something had, and there wasn’t any going back now. “I don’t regret starting this, and I don’t think you should, either. I’m-- I wish none of this had ever happened, I don’t want to be this way, but that doesn’t mean I, you know…” she rubbed her head with her free hand, “I just...all I can feel right now is anger, and I don’t want to be angry at you anymore. You’re all I have left now.”

Erin took her hand when she placed it on hers and squeezed. She wasn’t sure if it was totally reassuring that Marley wanted her there because she was the only thing she had left. Wasn’t a great feeling, but it was better than being alone, and the promise of mending their friendship wasn’t just a pipedream. It’d be hard and it’d take time but all last things were worth that kind of fight. Maybe there was something down the line that would assure her that the one for her freedom would be worth it too. “You’re kind of all I have now too,” she said quietly, a small sad smile lifting the corner of her lips. “It’s not the kind of thing you can rush and you have your reasons--valid ones--but I’d be pretty okay with you not being mad at me anymore either.” She gently nudged her shoulder, trying to keep ahold of the sobering relief that made her eyes water and her composure waver. “I miss you,” she said quietly, her eyes drawing back up to hers.

“Yeah,” Marley muttered with a hint of bitterness, “I miss me, too.” But she left it at that, because the exhaustion of being angry, of just having had a seizure, was taking over her and she had little fight left. Still-- there were things that needed to be said here, if they were going to try and mend whatever this was. Sighing, she shifted enough to look over at Erin, her eyes red and heavy lidded with her weariness. “I don’t know if I fully trust you,” she said, her voice hoarse, “it’s not something that I think will be...easy to fix. I’m angry about so much, Erin, and I think it’s because I-- because you meant so much more to me. I don’t know how to explain it, I’m not good with--” she gestured between them, “--this kind of stuff.” She took a brief pause. “And I know I’m upset with you about something else, too, but I can never remember exactly why and then that just makes me angry as well, and-- it’s this stupid vicious cycle and I just want my fucking mind back.” She felt the prickle of hot tears again but quickly blinked them away. “If you want to help me, then I need you to-- I need help feeling normal again. Whatever that might be now, I just want…” her voice simmered to a small breath, choking, “...I just need something normal.”

It was hard to hear but these were all the things that needed to be said, needed to be put out into the open if they were ever going to get past this. “This is one of the first steps to getting to some sort of normal. A healthier normal,” Erin pointed out, then added, “I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not super great at this either, honestly.” But of all the people who were hurt and disappointed by her, it cut differently with Marley. Marley, who’d been her right hand through the last six months. Who’d encouraged her to fight and who’d kept her safe until the bitter end. She couldn’t lose this. She took a breath, unable to meet her eyes now, preparing herself to throw that last issue eluding Marley onto the pile. If she had learned anything from the last six months, she knew the only way out was through. “You were upset with me about Nic. I didn’t tell you he was a hunter.” She reached for the long forgotten beer on the table and took a hearty sip.

Oh. Their entire argument came crashing back into Marley’s mind like she’d been dropped from a thousand feet in the air. Immediately, she wanted to yell again. But instead, she drew in a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out slowly, removing her hand from Erin’s grasp finally. “Right,” she muttered, “I remember now.” The frustration Marley had felt when she’d found out writhed its way through her body again, racing down her arms and into her fingertips. She felt them tingle and leaned back on the couch, running them through her hair. “He’s gone now, though, so I guess it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” They’d both lost their partners-- although Anita was Marley’s fault, it had still happened all the same. She looked sideways over at Erin. “I could try and explain it to you, but I just don’t think you’d ever understand.”

Erin felt the frustration from that argument return, and a sharp stab of anger from her words jolted her upright. “It matters,” she insisted, gripping the back of her neck. It was another complicated fucking issue but it mattered. They hadn’t argued for nothing. “I should have told you, I know, and maybe I won’t be able to understand, but he—“ the words caught in her throat, made her chest tight. She already hated talking about this. “He knew other supernaturals. His roommate was a selkie and he was friends with a zombie. I’m not saying your fears weren’t valid or undeserved but he wasn’t a threat. To you or anyone. I’m not that stupid. I just need you to understand that too.”

“I won’t,” Marley said, frowning, “I can’t understand that. Because you’re wrong.” To Marley, that wasn’t an opinion, it was a fact. “I get that not all hunters are the same, and sure, some of them might even not hunt-- but they’re all dangerous to people like me. No matter what they say or what you believe. And that’s what you don’t get, Erin,” she said, her tone wavering between trying to stay even and sticking with anger. With fear. “If I’d hurt the wrong person, or done just one wrong thing, can you really tell me, with one-hundred percent certainty that he wouldn’t take action? Or that he wouldn’t ask someone else to? Just because he was friends with other supernaturals doesn’t mean he isn’t a danger. It’s the same reason people like me can never trust white people in grocery stores, or straight people in rural back countries. You can at least relate to that last one a little, can’t you?” Sighing, she ran her hand over her face. “I’m not-- I wasn’t upset because he was a hutner, though. I--” she licked her bottom lip anxiously, “--I was upset-- I am upset-- because I just wanted you to believe me and not try and, I don’t know...excuse it. But I get it, okay? He was good to you. You can’t...see it the way I see it, and I can’t see it the way you do. So, no-- it doesn’t matter.”

Erin felt herself sink further into the couch. She didn’t want to talk about this. Didn’t want to think about him, even in this context. It made her heart hurt in a way she hadn’t felt before and she lifted her hand to her chest, subconsciously rubbing at her sternum, as if it would help alleviate some of the pressure. “I believe you,” she finally said after a long, quiet moment. She had no interest in discrediting or excusing away her fear and she felt terrible when she realized how it came off to Marley. “I’m sorry. I wish I could understand this all better, and with time maybe I will. I’m trying.” She shrugged one shoulder, heaving a long breath as she fidgeted with the bottle in her hand. “I don’t know how he’d react. He only hunted for money. Because he was good at it. It was all he knew, it was how he was raised. But it was never personal. And who was I to judge him when I was culling out half of the bounties he took, you know?” It was weird and complicated and shady. That was her normal. Had been her normal, anyway. She shook her head again, exhaustion seeping through her, but her words were genuine, even if she couldn’t meet her eyes still. Her chest still ached. “This is hard and I’m still getting used to this, and I don’t mean to sound ignorant. With this stuff I just—I am.”

All Marley understood was that talking about Anita hurt, and, therefore, Erin having to talk about Nic probably did, too. Especially when she noticed her rub at her chest. A pang of guilt ran through her, and though she would not take back what she said, she felt bad for addressing it, even if Erin was the one who brought it up. She reached for the glass of water again and took a sip, before curling her knees up to her chest on the couch. Wrapped her arms around them tightly. “I don’t want you to have to understand this fear, Erin. It’s not something I’d wish on anyone.” Her face drew in concern, a deep, hidden fear clouding her eyes. “That first time someone looks at you like you’re nothing, like you don’t deserve to live--” she shuddered, laying her head on her knees, “--and you’re just a child, but they don’t care. They want to kill you, because your eyes glow red at night, or because you have fangs, or wings, or turn into a wolf during the full moon.” Her words trailed off and she went quiet. “I hope you never have to know what that feels like.” It was one of the only things Marley had ever been afraid of in her life. “We don’t have to talk about him anymore,” she muttered into the thick silence between them, “I know it hurts.”

“I’m sorry. That you had to go through that,” Erin said quietly after Marley spoke. “God that’s--that’s fucking awful. You didn’t deserve that.” Not that she had a lot of room to talk. A year ago she would’ve agreed wholeheartedly with the hunter. Kill the scary fucking demon with red-eyes. It had to be dangerous, right? She learned how wrong she was, of course. Not all monsters were evil and not all hunters were right. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Fuck, she still had so much to figure out here. She also knew there wasn’t much she could say to make it better, and instead reached out, taking one of Marley’s hands again, tentative and gentle. She was right though. It did hurt. Everything about this conversation hurt, to be fair. She sat back against the couch, letting her head loll against the back of it. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” Her head popped up again suddenly. “Are you sure there’s nothing we’re supposed to be doing after--that.” She looked at her head, nodding towards it.

“I still go through it,” Marley pointed out, “every day.” And not that she’d ever admit it, but even just knowing that Kaden was a hunter scared the shit out of her. At any moment, he could decide she was too much of a danger and come after her. She didn’t think he would, but that fear was always there-- would always be there. And it was that way with Nic, too. And any hunter. All hunters. She fidgeted with Erin’s fingers for a moment. “It was just a seizure,” she mumbled, leaning back on the couch and dropping her legs finally. She let out a long breath before scooting closer to Erin and leaning her head against her shoulder. “I’m so fucking tired,” she mumbled, “all the time.” God, she’d missed this. Maybe not specifically with Erin, just...this. Being next to someone. Feeling someone else’s warmth, someone else’s presence, their weight anchoring Marley to reality, reminding her she was real. She missed not being alone. It was her own damn fault she’d been so alone and she fucking hated it. “There’s nothing to do afterwards. Just...monitor and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

There was a silence that fell over the room, thick and heavy. Everything was out in the open now, and they’d talked and argued until they’d exhausted themselves, it seemed. Emotions and grievances were heavy like that. They’d carried them, and though their shoulders weren’t burdened with such a heavy load anymore, the damage had been done. They were on their way to healing and it was becoming clear that this wouldn’t all be fixed in one night. There was a long road yet to go but this time Erin was prepared. It was worth it. She ran her thumb over the back of Marley’s hand, nodding. “What do you say we take a pause?” She suggested hopefully. “It’s getting late and we’re both tired and there’s no way we can work through everything tonight.” She gave a small, brief smile, trying to thin out some of that heaviness. “But if you want to keep going, I’m going to need to make some coffee.”

The motion was soothing, even if it was just small circles on the back of her hand. Marley glanced down at their hands, her eyes weary, and watched silently for a moment. The heaviness between them felt a little bit lighter now, but there was still something thick for them to wade through. But something had been mended tonight-- maybe not trust, maybe not friendship, but something. Enough of something for them to work back towards what they had before. Enough of something to rebuild. That was enough for now, it had to be. It was all they had left, after all, and without each other, they’d have nothing. Maybe that wasn’t exactly the most healthy mindset, but Marley needed something to focus on and keep herself grounded. Something to keep her from losing every part of herself. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to get back some of the parts she’d lost. “Let’s just watch a movie,” she mumbled, motioning to the remote sitting on the coffee table, on top of another stack of sticky notes. “We can talk later.”

#chatzy #chatzy: erin #wickedswriting #erin #trust fall #tw head trauma #tw siezure

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write-it-good-imagines · 5 years ago

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Happiness and sweets - Choi Youngjae

Hello, everyone! It’s your lovely admin again. This was originally a little drabble request but I might be a bit whipped for the sunshine that Youngjae is, so I might have exploited that.

~2.5k words, pure fluff, neighbor! Youngjae

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You couldn’t find the courage to knock on the door. It was unimaginable why. Maybe it was because you had seen the outer part of it too many times you lost count. But the inside… it still remained a mystery.

Why was it nerve-racking? Youngjae was your friend.

Ah, ‘friend’. What a grotesque word.

You had moved into the building where Choi Youngjae lived a couple of months before and a twisted sprinkle of luck made it so that your apartment was right above his. He wasn’t home all that often but whenever he was, he made sure his presence was felt. Heard.

The first few times he randomly started vocalizing in his living room pissed you off. He was a respectful neighbor; he never made any noise during the late hours of the evening, or in the rare mornings he found himself at home. But you did not have an established schedule either. You worked shifts and, although he had an angelic voice, it did meddle with your sleeping pattern.

His dog was often quieter than he was.

Your first encounter was an uncomfortable one. You were hurrying down the stairs after having slept in for your morning shift, and you were so absorbed in your discussion with your friend over the phone that you did not hear Youngjae come out of his apartment, mere moments after you had passed his door.

“Ah, I know, I know, but I couldn’t rest well last night. Just when I managed to drift to sleep, the guy that lives downstairs started singing so loud it basically blew all of my chances of a good night’s slumber. Shit, I forgot the car key upstairs.”

You genuinely felt like disappearing into nothingness when you turned and noticed him staring awkwardly at you. If it wasn’t for the embarrassment whirling in your chest, you might have realized how cute his clumsy smile was.

Youngjae bowed at ninety degrees. “I’m so sorry about that. I’ll make sure I’ll refrain from making noise, from now on. Yes. Excuse me.”

He offered you another awkward smile and hurried by you, his dog leading him out of the miserable atmosphere. All you wanted to do at that moment was die and never come back.

Naturally, you had to repair the situation one way or another. All hopes of making a good first impression flew out the window but there were solutions to problems. You couldn’t afford to believe the third time was the charm. So you pushed it forward for a second.

The next day was clear of any schedule for you, so you decided you would try and buy your image back with a delicious strawberry pie. You woke up early, had a quick trip to the convenience store, and then started the process of baking. You had a lot of faith in your skills. Besides, no one ever refused a warm slice of pie. In your case, a whole inviting one should have done the trick.

However, there was a slight unforeseeable circumstance in your redemptive plan. You suddenly felt less courageous at the thought that he could close the door right in your face. After all, you were kind of rude to someone you had never met before. As a consequence, you decided you’d write a little note to put next to the pie that you would leave at his door.

All was said and done. You looked left and right a couple of times before you actually exited your apartment and dashed over to Youngjae’s floor. You took a deep breath, knocked on his door, left the pie on his doormat, then ran away.

Six months had passed since then and, woken up by a terrible nightmare, you found yourself staring blankly at Youngjae’s door.

Frankly, you did not know who to turn to. It was rude to call your friends in the middle of the night over such a trivial matter; you did not want to disturb them. Somehow, disturbing Youngjae in the middle of the night over such a trivial matter seemed plausible enough. You got all the way there, you might as well shoot your shot.

You cleared your throat that had become dry and brought your hand up to knock on his door. One, twice, even a third time. The seconds that passed after were tormenting. Different ideas started blooming in your mind. What if he wasn’t home? He might have been away. Or what if he was and did not want to respond? Who would want to address such an annoying neighbor—

The small creaking sound snapped you back to reality and you were met by a drowsy Youngjae who was rubbing at his eyes in hopes of erasing the sleep on his eyelashes.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

The problem was that you did know what you were doing but were too abashed to say it out loud. Your eyes fell to the giraffe pattern of your pajamas, your fingers tapping against one another. His alluring coarse voice brought a hue of pink to your cheeks.

“I, uh, see… I thought I’d, uh, come… by?”

Youngjae laughed and opened the door slightly wider so he could lean into the frame. “Come by? Did you bake something again?”

You cleared your throat again and tried straightening your silhouette. “I need a hug.”

“You come to my door and wake me up at 4 AM, to cuddle?”

His words convinced you just how purposeless your visit truly was.

“I… I’m sorry. I had a terrible nightmare and I got scared. I guess I’ll just return upstairs.”

Much to your surprise, Youngjae opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for you to follow him inside. “You should have said so from the beginning.”

You had to blink to make sure your disturbed senses were not playing pranks on you. Youngjae assured you with a soft smile that it was fine for you to come in and his dog waddled over to your feet, inspecting the impromptu guest.

“It’s not much but it’s home.”

You had wondered many times how his place would look like. You did not know what you were expecting to see, giving that he was a person who radiated sunshine as if his whole existence was a form of incandescence itself. You recognized something else, instead: an enveloping warmth. The same kind you felt whenever Youngjae smiled at you.

“The pajama is nice.” Youngjae pointed out and you chuckled at the remark.

“I bet you never pictured the fierce neighbor from upstairs to have a giraffe onesie.”

It was Youngjae’s turn to laugh. He raked through his hair. “Well, now you’re no longer my fierce neighbor from upstairs.”

“True.”

You plopped down on his couch and pulled the colorful hood over your head. Out of all the times Youngjae pictured you finally coming over to visit his apartment, that certainly was not the outcome he expected. He was reluctant to invite you over. Of course, he had tried to muster the courage to do so before but it always ended with one of his loud, awkward laughs and a wave of the hand.

He might have been pining on his neighbor but said neighbor did not have to know that.

Youngjae felt like a fool when he accidentally overheard your conversation six months ago. He heard someone moved above him and, being the excited little bean he always was, he was eager to welcome his new neighbor.

The first shocking matter was that that unknown person proved to be a stunning female. The second shocking matter was that he disturbed that stunning female with his loud voice. He could not do anything about it per se. The least he could do was refrain himself from making any noise and concoct a plan to avoid you for the rest of his living days.

Youngjae was preparing to go for a light jog when the bizarre sound of fingers knocking on his door made him rush to the entrance. He could not see anyone but a sweet smell piqued his interest. Youngjae lowered his eyes to the ground and spotted a pie laying so helpless on his doormat.

He knelt to take it and scanned the hallway to make sure it was not meant for someone else. He spotted the note to the side of the tray and closed the door with his foot, evidently busy to analyze the neat handwriting.

I apologize for being such a rude brat. I hope you like strawberries.

Youngjae burst into hearty laughter that reverberated between the solid walls of his apartment. He quickly covered his mouth but it was not enough to shut his bubbly giggles. You did not hate him.

The next day, he met you at the convenience store in the neighborhood in a completely accidental encounter. He went out to satisfy his ramen cravings and almost bumped into you as you came out from the meat section. Youngjae had a better chance at stealing a look at you, a fact that almost rebuffed his own brain. Lucky for him, you started the conversation, inquiring about the pie.

Then you smiled and all he could do was let out a helpless laugh.

Of course, he liked it. He complimented you on your baking skills and you complimented him on his singing. He must have looked confused, saying that he thought it impeded your resting schedule. You were so flustered by his remark that you almost dropped the bag of groceries.

Youngjae was content to hear you genuinely liked it and you admitted to being inconsiderate. It felt reassuring in a way. Not having a logical explanation of why he was just happy you liked his voice. He laughed with you when you completed that it should not happen when you were tired.

He jokingly suggested that you should stick a note to his door whenever you requested absolute silence. Some days later, he found a sticky note patiently waiting to be picked. Another bit of laughter followed. Youngjae placed the sticky note on his fridge.

As days progressed, he unconsciously became excited about the notes. In just a couple of weeks, the fridge was decorated with a palette of colors, and so started to be his heart. Youngjae studied every letter calligraphed on the tiny papers as a means of discovery. He figured it was rude for you to carry a one-sided correspondence, so he started making little notes for your door too.

“Do you like orange juice?” Youngjae chimed from his kitchen.

“Who doesn’t like orange juice?” you retorted and watched him scoff as he came back with two glasses.

“Fine, maybe I should bring you two oranges to make your own juice.”

You muttered a small ‘thank you’ and tended to your glass. Youngjae seated himself next to you but not too close; at a friendly distance, one might say. He brought his hands together and turned to you. You looked so little and adorable in your giraffe costume that it brought a wide smile to his face.

“What was the dream about?”

“In my dream, someone broke into my house. Started roaming through my things as if he was looking for something. He stormed into my room and then gagged me with some sort of stinking cloth. It was terrifying.”

You shuddered at the unshakable thought that such things happened to a lot of people and you could be one of them. You put the glass down and hugged yourself. Youngjae extended a hand to caress your back and scooted closer to you.

“It’s okay now. Nothing is going to happen to you, Y/n, I promise.”

“You promise?”

Youngjae pushed the hood off your face and looked at you with the softest look he could muster. He was bewildered to see your eyes pooling with tears, scared and insecure, that he did not think twice about wrapping his whole body around you.

Youngjae was devastated to see you like that. The only thing he pictured in his mind whenever he thought about you - which was quite often - was your dazzling smile and the sound of your laughter at each of his lame jokes. In his mind, you were made of the clumsy ‘good morning’, ‘have a good day’ thoughts that you started inserting somewhere along the line in your messages. Or the tasty products you’d always leave desolated on his doormat. The lingering chat the two of you would share whenever your paths intersected in the morning, that one that would always get the both of you late, was his favorite.

You always smelt like happiness and sweets.

“I promise.”

It might have not counted for much but he hoped his words would ease you just a little. He had known for some time that he nurtured an unrequited crush on you. Youngjae used to be jubilant over the little things he shared with you. He was not so sure he could keep the pretense anymore. It used to be easier when you were not enveloped in his arms.

“Sing to me, Youngjae.”

“Eh?” he exclaimed and blessed the gods you couldn’t see the blush on his face. “Sing… sing what? Why do you want me to sing?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, curling into him, “I mean not shut up. Your voice is so calm and warm, I know it will help me relax.”

Youngjae chuckled lightly and adjusted his body for you to be more comfortable. He could afford to be selfish for a bit, even if he felt like his cheeks could explode. Coco sprung on the couch next to her master and Youngjae lowered a hand to pet her.

The sweet tones of a lullaby echoed silently in your ears, easing your tensed muscles at once. Youngjae’s voice was unique, akin to the lilac and pink sky of a spring morning when the chilly air invites you to hide in the arms of the person you love. Of course, you would never tell him that, but you could afford to enjoy the safe haven that he was for a little while.

The last thing you heard Youngjae humming before you drifted into the depths of the dreamland, although peaceful sleep had long invaded your system, so you would never be sure, was something along the lines of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’.

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 imagine #got7 scenarios #got7 youngjae #choi youngjae #got7 fluff #youngjae fluff #youngjae imagine #got7 request #youngjae x reader #uwu guys

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robinskey · 6 years ago

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Coworkers (pt 3) (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Part One//Part Two

A/N: Thank you guys for being so patient while waiting for this update! I’ve really enjoyed this series and all the positive feedback I’ve received from it. Thanks to the anon who sent in the original request. Keep sending them in, guys-the more detailed, the better, but all requests are welcome! :)

Warnings: Language, alcohol mention/hangover

The next morning, Steve woke up with an aching neck and a pulsing headache. He squinted in the bright light filtering in through the windows. (Even though you’d tried to pull the blinds shut as tightly as possible, you still hadn’t managed to submerge the room into complete darkness. And in Steve’s condition, even a single ray of sun burned his irises like the heat from a thousand fires.)

Steve cupped one hand over his brow as a makeshift visor. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Steve managed to make out his surroundings. A crate-sized television with bunny-ear antennae sat on the stand across from the slightly-beat-up couch on which he was laying. A fluffy pillow-no, a fluffy dog-was curled up on a tattered armchair to his left. On the coffee table in front of him, a half-full glass of clear liquid stood next to two small blue pills and a sticky note with the words “Steve-take these” hastily scribbled on it. Steve made a promise to himself never to do this again before popping the mysterious pills in his mouth. He washed them down with a sip of water. That sip quickly devolved into gulping down the entire glass. Suddenly parched, Steve grabbed the empty cup and took off in search of a faucet.

As he wandered toward the kitchen, a sweet aroma drifted up to his nostrils. Clad in plaid pajama pants and a college sweatshirt, you stood at the stove. You were humming a faint, vaguely recognizable melody as you flipped a sizzling pancake over in the frying pan. Once it turned golden brown, you added it to the already-towering stack on the counter. After dividing the stack equally between two plates, you grabbed one, along with a bottle of maple syrup from the cabinet. Then, you spun on your heel, and your eyes fell upon the disheveled boy lurking in the doorway.

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” you said with an almost-inauthentically-cheerful tone. “You hungry?”

“I-uh-sure,” Steve stammered.

You gestured towards at the kitchen island, and Steve hopped up onto the barstool. He caught the plate, fork, and maple syrup bottle you slid across the counter, then watched you walk over to the fridge. You shuffled around objects on the shelves as Steve racked his brain for a conversation starter-or, at the very least, any recollection of what had happened last night. The last thing he could remember was one of his idiotic former classmates daring him to challenge his old “keg king” record and him being idiotic enough to try.

“Robin called,” you said, plopping a carton of orange juice on the counter. You poured two glasses and handed one to Steve. He greedily gulped it down. “She thought you might have wandered over here after the party. I asked her how you knew where I lived-if you’d been stalking me or something.”

Steve nearly spit out his drink. Fortunately, you didn’t notice; you were rifling in the fridge again. By the time you turned around, cradling a container of butter, he’d managed to get his panic under control. He gulped down the lump in his throat.

“What did Robin say?”

“Nothing. She just laughed.” Having grabbed your plate, you settled into the seat next to Steve. Between bites of fluffy pancake, you asked, “So, Harrington, is it true? Are you stalking me?”

Steve’s eyes widened to the size of the frying pan. Fortunately, though, Steve had been too flustered to try to eat or drink, so he didn’t choke this time. Instead, he offered a coy smile that he hoped would come off as kind rather than creepy.

“Nothing like that,” he said. “I was talking to Brenda Hapsburg, and she mentioned that your house was just a couple blocks away.”

“And you just decided to…what? Drunkenly stumble through my neighbors’ yards in the middle of the night just to pay me a visit?”

“I guess.” Steve shrugged. He sawed at his stack of pancakes with a butter knife, more to avoid your hawk-like stare than anything else. “I don’t even remember leaving the party last night, but I’m here, so I guess I did.”

“So you don’t remember anything you said, either?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow quizzically.

“No.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Should I?”

“Um-no. Of course not.”

You grabbed your plate off the counter and slid into the spot next to Steve at the counter. Your house guest watched as you stabbed your fork into the pancake. You twisted it around absentmindedly as you spoke, carving out a hole in the center.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you were drunk and stupid and had no idea what you were saying.” You raised your head, a tight smile plastered across your lips. “Never mind. It’s nothing. Hand me the maple syrup, will you?”

Your fingers grazed Steve’s as he passed the bottle, and the electricity from the ever-so-brief contact sparked his suspicions back to life like Frankenstein's monster.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” Steve laid his fork down on his plate and turned towards you. His chocolate eyes glimmered with guilt. “Look, I’m sorry about last night-whatever I did. Whenever I’m drunk, I’m usually pretty-”

“-flirty?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, I was going to say ‘pretty much an asshole,’ but…” Realization settled over Steve’s features, contorting them into a look of concern. “Wait, flirty? Did I hit on you last night or something?”

“Yeah, you did, actually. Several times,” you said, then ticked off the instances in which this had rung true on your fingers. “You called me cute, asked if I was your girlfriend-and at one point, I’m pretty sure you were trying to kiss me.”

Steve’s face didn’t just fall; it collapsed. His features contorted into a deep frown. “Shit. God, that’s embarrassing. I didn’t mean to make things awkward-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, forcing yet another fake grin. “I know you're not actually interested in me, Harrington.”

He probably should have just left it at that. However, Steve being Steve, he had to press the matter. Besides, Steve couldn’t think of anything else to say, and he didn’t think he could survive another stint of awkward silence, so he wondered aloud, “And why wouldn’t I be interested in you?”

“Well,” you huffed, leaning your head on one of your hands, “for one thing, I’m pretty damn sure I’m not exactly your type.”

“Not my...type?” Steve’s eyebrows knitted together on his forehead like a dark caterpillar. “What, you think I’m not looking for someone smart, beautiful, funny? Someone who puts up with my drunk bullshit, lets me crash on their couch, makes me a bomb-ass hangover breakfast? Why the hell wouldn’t I be interested in someone like that?”

Color rose to Steve’s cheeks as he recognized the implication of his last sentence. He ran a hand through his wild hair in an attempt at self-soothing. While the throbbing in his head had subsided, a furious pounding in his chest had replaced it. Steve was almost certain you could hear his heart beating against his sternum; after all, your voice was barely audible to him over the thudding soundtrack of his internal organs. Luckily, Steve could read your lips-the part of the face to which he’d turned his full attention, anyway.

“What are you trying to tell me, Steve?” Your unblinking eyes flicked over his features in a search for clues to uncover the mystery that was Steve Harrington. He leaned in ever-so-slightly, tilting his head toward yours.

“Everything I said last night,” he started, “I meant. I’ve liked you for a really long time, Y/N. I just haven’t had the courage to tell you. But apparently, Drunk Steve did.”

You chuckled softly. Steve’s attention, which had momentarily flicked up to meet your gaze, returned to your mouth. You mimicked him. His lips looked smooth and shiny and plump, perfectly irresistible.

And then, suddenly, you were leaning forward, supporting yourself with a hand on this thigh. One of his hands gravitated toward your waist, tickling your side slightly as his fingers gently dug into your skin. Steve’s face was so close that you could count the faint freckles on his cheeks.

And yet, somehow, he managed to get even closer. You couldn’t see anything at all, because your eyelids had fluttered shut, but your other senses kicked into hyperdrive. His lips felt like velvet against yours, even softer than you could have imagined. He tasted even sweeter than the syrup left behind on his lips.

At least, that last part was true momentarily, before a putrid aftertaste assaulted your tastebuds. You instinctively jerked away, your face scrunched up into a disgusted expression. Steve gazed at you with his lost puppy-dog eyes that could shatter an ice-cold heart into a million pieces. He pursed his lips.

“Look, Y/N, I know I haven’t had much practice lately, but I didn’t know I was that bad of a kisser.”

“No, it’s not that, Steve. It’s your breath. Surprisingly, morning breath does not mix well with a night of alcohol consumption,” you laughed. Steve tried to maintain his pout, but he couldn’t help cracking a smile. You slid your hand off his leg to reach for his palm. “Come on, dork. I think there’s a spare toothbrush in my bathroom somewhere.”

You intertwined your dainty digits with his larger-than-life fingers and tugged him along. He grinned dopily as he followed after you. His stupid smirk only widened when you promised, after taking care of that terrible breath, more kissing practice was the next thing on the agenda. ;)

Taglists:

General: @novaddictx @anabundanceoffandoms @rexorangecouny @morganvanilla@anolddayslover

Steve: @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh@peterhollandd @songforhema

Stranger Things: @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

Coworkers: @l0ve-0f-my-life @nicole13letson @smileygoluckey

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #tw: alcohol #tw: alchohol mention #parker-potter writes

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blurry-fics · 6 years ago

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Chapter Ten

Realize That It’s Gone | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Name-calling/teasing, brief anxiety attack, self-deprecation, angst

Word Count: 1900

Author’s Note: Uh... I’m sorry? :) (picture credit)

“Georgie!” Y/N yelped.

She quickly paused our game of Mario Kart and went flying off the couch, stopping Georgie from scrambling up the bookshelves. I watched with wide eyes as she scooped him into her arms and held his wriggling body close to her chest.

“Is he supposed to do that?”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Climb the bookshelves? No. My dad would be furious.”

“No, I mean… wriggle. Like that.”

She looked down at Georgie, who was still rolling around in an attempt to find an escape. “He’s just trying to get out of my arms, but it’s impossible.”

Y/N held him until he finally calmed down and relaxed into her arms. Once he was settled down, she gently dropped him onto the ground. He looked around for a moment before sprinting towards the window where a few birds were flying around. I quickly pulled my feet up onto the couch, even though he was nowhere near me.

“He’s not going to attack you, Ty,” Y/N said as she fell back onto the couch. “He’s not evil.”

“He kind of has that vibe.”

“He’s a cat.”

“An evil one.”

Y/N reached over and lightly shoved at my arm; I laughed and ducked out of the way.

“Don’t call him evil, he’s just… chaotic.”

“Yeah, chaotic evil.”

“Tyler!”

“Ok, sorry, I’m done. Will you unpause the game now?”

“Will you stop calling my cat evil?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Y/N started the game without any warning, leaving me scrambling to catch up. Thankfully my lead was good enough that I managed to maintain it, even with Y/N’s attempted sabotage.

“Isn’t the rule that we’re supposed to count down before we start the game?”

“Only when the other person isn’t being a dick about my cat,” she muttered.

“I said I would stop calling him evil!”

“Yeah, but I still had to get revenge for all the other times you called him evil.”

“Fine. It’s not like you’re going to win anyway,” I teased.

“You don’t know that!”

“I would say it’s pretty apparent, based on the clear lead that I have.”

“All it takes is one blue shell to make everything go downhill.”

“Is that a threat, Y/N?”

“Maybe,” she grinned, drawing out the word.

I took a second to glance at her screen, just to see what item she actually had. It was only a green shell, which she was too far from me to effectively use.

“Liar, you only have a green shell.”

“You cheater!” she laughed. “Keep your eyes on your half of the screen.”

“Doesn’t matter, because I won,” I grinned, setting my controller down in my lap. That win was enough to put me in the overall lead.

“You can’t get mad at me for breaking the rules and then just break them yourself,” she sighed as she crossed the finish line a short time later. “That just isn’t fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

Y/N shook her head as she stood up, stretching her arms out behind her. I cracked my knuckles and sank further back into the couch.

“Do you want to make some lunch? I need a break from video games.”

“You mean you need a break from losing?”

She turned to me as she was shutting off the console. Her mouth was curled up into the slightest hint of a smile. “You already won, Ty, no need to rub it in.”

“Alright, I’m done. I promise.”

Y/N once again scooped Georgie into her arms and disappeared into the hallway. I took a moment to stretch before following after her and taking the stairs down two at a time.

“What should we have?” she asked as she dropped Georgie to the floor.

“Sandwiches?”

“Sure. Just find whatever ingredients you want to use.”

I followed Y/N into the kitchen and helped her grab food from various shelves. Georgie ran by at one point, scaring me so bad that I smacked my head straight into an open cabinet. It took Y/N a solid thirty seconds to stop laughing so that she could ask if I was ok.

I was.

Eventually all of our ingredients were collected and laid out on the counter. I started to slice up some cheese to put on my sandwich. Next to me, Y/N was meticulously spreading peanut butter over a slice of bread. Her eyebrows were knit together as she chewed on her lower lip, and I was beginning to think it was for a bigger reason than peanut butter.

“Are you feeling ok, Y/N?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Why do you ask?”

She reached over and pulled off a small corner of a slice of cheese that I had cut. I gave her a disapproving look, but she only smiled and handed the cheese to Georgie, who was now perched on top of the fridge.

“You just look nervous and I thought there might be something you’re not talking about.”

She set down her butter knife and rested her hands on the counter, tapping her pointer finger against it every so often.

“Well, ok, there is something.”

I stopped what I was doing and turned so that I could lean my hip against the counter. Y/N did the same, although she was avoiding looking at me. Her avoidance of eye contact was enough to make my stomach begin to twist uncomfortably.

“What’s going on?”

“Um, I don’t really know a good way to say this,” she said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth again.

“That’s ok.”

“So, you know how Josh and I have been like… flirting, I guess, when we’re together?”

My jaw clenched, but I released it again before Y/N took notice.

“Yeah, I’ve picked up on that.”

“Ok, yeah, so basically he called me last night and he,” she cleared her throat, “he asked me on a date.”

“He what?”

“He asked me on a date, Ty. Like a proper date.”

The room started spinning. One of my hands flew to the edge of the counter, gripping it until my knuckles were white. The only sound in my ears was my rushing blood, echoed by the pounding of my heart in my chest. Y/N stepped forward and placed a hand on my arm, squeezing it through the fabric of my shirt.

“Tyler? Are you ok?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, blinking rapidly. Y/N was staring into my eyes, her face a mixture of confusion and worry.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m ok. I didn’t realize he was going to do that.”

“Neither did I.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing yet. I wanted to see what you thought of the whole situation before I gave him an answer. I don’t want to accidentally make things weird by going on a date with the guy you’re in a band with.”

My shoulders relaxed a little. She hadn’t given him an answer yet. That was a good sign.

“Listen, I can tell him no. You know that you mean the world to me, Ty, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable. It’s not a big deal to turn him down, Josh said that himself.”

I wanted to say no. I started to say it, but then I remembered the way that her eyes lit up when Josh gave her a compliment, the way she had giggled when Josh had his arms around her, the way that she was always smiling around him. She was never that way around me.

Was I really so selfish that I would deny her that happiness?

“I think you should go,” I smiled.

Her eyebrows shot up, “You do?”

“Sure. Josh is a great guy and it’s obvious that you’re into one another. Why wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I just thought maybe you… never mind.”

Might be in love with you, too? Yeah, maybe.

I stayed quiet for a moment, waiting for her to finish the thought that was no doubt in both of our minds. She never did, instead picking up her knife once again and continuing to spread peanut butter onto her sandwich.

“It’ll be fun,” I reassured her. “Haven’t you talked about wanting to go on a date for years?”

“Yeah, I have.” I caught a glimpse of the grin she had on her face. “I’m excited. Josh is super sweet and he said he already has a plan for what he wanted to do.”

Oh.

“That’s awesome, Y/N. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“Um, yeah.”

The two of us quietly finished making our sandwiches, too afraid to speak what was really on our minds.

* * *

I breathed a sigh of relief as I opened the front door to an empty apartment. There was no way I would be able to handle looking Josh in the face right now after everything that had happened at Y/N’s. The mere thought of their upcoming date made me sick to my stomach.

I kicked my shoes off by the door and rolled over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions with a thud. The air in the apartment was warm and sticky, uncomfortably filling my lungs as I tried to breathe deeply. My mind had already begun its downward spiral, bringing the rest of me down along with it.

I had spent the last six months convincing myself that I deserved someone like Y/N. Six months. There had been countless wars in my mind, debating the same things over and over. Every morning I would try and remind myself why I was worthy of love on the off chance that when I returned home, I would finally have enough confidence to tell her how I felt. I slowly stopped the familiar patterns of thought that shut me down every time I looked at her.

But what was the point of all that now? I had let it go, just because she started to show a little bit of interest in someone else.

Josh was a great guy. He was exactly the type of guy that Y/N deserved, something that I would never be. They would be happy together, and eventually I would forget about my feelings for her and find someone else to spend my life with. Y/N wasn’t the only person in the world for me, just like I wasn’t the only person in the world for her.

I flipped over onto my stomach and buried my head into the pillow. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get the thoughts to stop. Y/N was the only thing that my mind could stay focused on for more than thirty seconds at a time. All I could think about was her laugh. Or the way she had so carefully touched my arm when she noticed me starting to panic. She knew me like nobody else did. Maybe that’s why she had been so quiet after our conversation, she probably knew that I didn’t like the idea of her going on a date with Josh. Not that I could do anything about it now, I had already said I had no problem with her going on the date.

I had lost my chance with her, and that was ok. Or at least, eventually it would be.

* * * * *

Taglist

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heartofsnark · 6 years ago

Text

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter One): Down The Rabbit Hole

Notes: This has been a long time coming, I never shut up about my oc and this idea. But, I’m finally posting this damn thing. This is gonna be pretty episodic and not have a lot of overarching plots, I’m gonna be stealing canon stories and adding my own spin to them as well as adding my own stories. It’s a shitshow and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

Special thanks to @catoinette, @otomemonogatari , @d-om , @enchantedbythebidders , @voltage-fanfictions , and @piplup235 for not only reading through and giving me feedback but also being the incentive I needed to actually write and post this. Without you all, this would still be rotting on my computer.

Summary: Almost a year ago Tsuneko managed to destroy her entire life and she’s been stuck ever since. She works as a maid at the Tres Spades in Tokyo; it’s not her dream job, but it pays the bills and puts a roof over her head. Her days are spent peacefully enough cleaning hotel rooms, that is until she stumbles into Wonderland and discovers the secrets lurking within the hotel. Will this turning point be exactly what she needed or a tragedy in the making?

Word Count: 10196

Warnings: Some blood and violence, people being bought and sold (it’s kbtbb my dudes)

The colors of the sky outside her window are just beginning to shift, soft pinks and purple coming in as the sun starts to set. Tsuneko lets out a sigh and checks her phone again, still no response from Shinobu. While not surprising, disappointment settle in her chest. It’s stupid to be upset, she shouldn’t be so emotional. She scolds herself, setting her phone down a little harder than necessary. Her desk chair creaks as she leans back and lets out another heavy sigh.

Kiyohito is curled up on her bed in a position that doesn’t look comfortable. The dark sable ferret is in a dead sleep with his tongue peeking out, any hope of him being a distraction are dashed. It’s her day off from work and she’s desperate to keep herself preoccupied. Her thoughts wandering is always a danger when she has down time, more dangerous when she’s left to ruminate on the shit show that is her life at the moment.

It’s been almost a year since her life officially went to shit and she started working at the Tres Spades hotel. It’s a glitzy place, the first legal casino in Japan. She’s a maid, spending all of her days cleaning up after people richer and more important than her. And that’s the highlight of her days, besides Kiyo, because otherwise she’s in her apartment just trying to distract herself.

The job itself is fine, given her situation, she’s damn lucky to have it. Good pay, plenty of hours, employee housing, her coworkers are mostly nice, and she even has lots of chances for overtime. But, she can’t say this is what she wanted her life to be. Being a maid isn’t exactly what she dreamed of for herself. Disappointment seems to be the theme of the day and her life.

She’s done her best to be a busy bee throughout the day; her dorm is cleaned, she’s baked, done her laundry, played with Kiyo until he passed out, messed with every entertaining app on her phone, watched any video on Youtube that caught her interest, and messaged Shinobu. Maybe she could try getting in contact with Runa? Not that she thinks it will do her a lot of good, but even getting told to fuck off is more fun than staring out the window.

Tsuneko stands up from her chair, stretching her joints as she meanders into her kitchenette area. The dorms are nice, like one bedroom apartments essentially. Given how much she likes baking and cooking, a bigger kitchen area would do her some good, but beggars can’t be choosers. She grabs one of the cookies she baked and crams it into her mouth as she begins looking through her fridge. The sweet vanilla calms her nerves, if only marginally. But, she knows what will relax her most.

She groans, she’s out of booze. Of course. Her rum supply ran out last week and she downed her last bit of vodka yesterday. Looks like she’s gotta put on real clothes and stock up. A walk through the city might be nice to clear her mind anyway.

Her work ringtone echoes through the room just as she’s tucked Kiyo into his cage. She scrambles over to desk, stumbling over her own feet to do so.

“Tomori speaking,” she answers, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can pick out a change of clothes.

“Yes, this is Kenzaki, I’m sorry to bother you on your day off. But, we’re short staffed for this evening, between the I.V.C and some people calling off sick. Is there anyway you could come in? You’d be given over time pay, of course.”

“I can be there shortly.” She throws on a tee and shorts, sliding on her shoes.

“Please report to Matsuda when you come in, she’ll give you a work schedule.” She rolls her eyes at the mention of Erika, the head maid has always had an issue with her, what that issue is remains a mystery. There’s still a huge pile of cookies on the counter, her coworkers might appreciate a snack, especially with such a busy day. And eating all of the cookies herself is kind of sad, something she’s done before, but still sad.

She says her goodbyes to Kenzaki as she starts packing the treats away into tupperware, stuffing one more in her mouth. Tsuneko picks out a sticky note, jotting down what’s in them in case of any allergies or dietary issues. Content, she grabs them and heads out the door, double checking her dorm is locked before she leaves.

Working during the I.V.C is like a double edged sword. On one hand, she’s extremely busy which she likes. She loves being able to bustle around and always having something to do. The International V.I.P Convention is a huge ordeal for the Tres Spades, a giant party held at seemingly random intervals where the rich and famous gather to stroke each other’s egos. Tsuneko has the lowest seniority of the maids, so she doesn’t have to deal with the V.I.P’s directly. But, it stretches the entire hotel staff thinner and the worse part is dealing with the V.I.P’s in passing. It may seem minor, but those kind of people seem to take even the smallest opportunity to be a pain in her ass. The last time she worked some man in a suit worth more money than she’s ever seen flagged her down to ask a question, then mocked her for her dialect, acting like she was stupid. And that was after some snooty woman grabbed her in the lobby to scream about the toilet paper in her suite. Looking back, that might have been the only time Erika was nice to her.

The evening air is cool on her skin as she leaves the dormitories, the Tres Spades looming just a short walk away. It stands out even in Tokyo among all the other huge buildings. She remembers seeing it when she first visited Tokyo, thinking how over the top it was with its giant impractical spade shaped cut out. Her feelings haven’t really changed, it’s just more relevant to her life now, fortunately or unfortunately depending on the day.

Her nose wrinkles, the acrid stink of smoke hitting her nose as she nears the back entrance. An older schlubby man is lighting a cigarette near the dumpsters. There are stomped out cigarette butts around his feet; has he been out here chain smoking all day? The stench of smoke seems to drift off of him in waves, like the man sweats nicotine. Who even is he? He’s definitely not a worker and guests at the hotel generally don’t come by the back entrance. And, as judgemental a thought as it may be, he doesn’t look like the kind of person who’d stay at the Tres Spades.

He starts to look up from his cigarette and Tsuneko ducks her head down to make a beeline for the door, just avoiding eye contact with the stranger. If he caught her staring, he’s kind enough not to say anything as she darts through the door.

She drops the cookies off in a thankfully empty staff room, she doesn’t wanna deal with any hassles or questions. She’ll just have to pick up her tupperware at the end of her shift, hopefully no one tries to take it, the cute Pokemon designs makes it a favorite of hers. .

The employee locker room is just as empty, so no one will question why the stink of cigarette smoke is now clinging to her clothes. She’s never been so happy to change into her uniform. Just a touch of perfume for extra measure then she ties her hair up in the neatest ponytail she can manage. She makes sure she has everything she needs for the work day on her, before taking a deep breath and venturing into the hotel lobby.

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the lobby is packed tight with people. Tailored suits and slinky gowns as far as the eye can see. The V.I.P’s bustle around and chatter, their words all blending into a cacophony of unintelligible noise. A select few members of the press are allowed in to snap photos and get quotes about the event. The party should be getting ready to move down to the ballroom, so with any luck this should be her only encounter with the V.I.P’s. Erika should be around here somewhere, given her seniority, plus she never misses an opportunity to kiss ass.

Tsuneko searches through the crowd for the familiar head of maroon hair. She carefully moves around people, muttering ‘excuse me’s as she goes, not letting her customer service smile and tone falter. Where the hell is Erika? She always seems to pop up when Tsuneko messes up, it figures, she’s nowhere to be found when she’s actually wanted.

Something warm and solid slams into her side, she’s knocked to the ground with a thud. A man looms over her with a scowl, she can feel the contempt emanating off of him. He’d be attractive, if he didn’t look like such an asshole. He’s tall, especially from her current vantage point, with layered oak brown hair and hazel eyes. Silence falls over the lobby, like the world’s been stopped. Everyone’s eyes focus on them, expressions of abject horror. Hushed whispers start to fill the eerie quiet, something about ‘the king’, but she can’t make out anything more. This guy is important; she’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to realize that. Thankfully, she’s only one of the three.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she apologizes, customer service smile in place as she get back up to her feet. This doesn’t seem to appease him, he glares at her like she’s garbage. Which while not inaccurate, is still rude.

“Get out of my way,” he demands with a sneer and brushes off the front of his suit, like he’s come into contact with something vile. Tsuneko takes a tentative step to the side and the man storms past her up the stairs. What a bitch. This is why she hates rich people.

A few people stare at the man’s retreating back, but once he’s out of sight, it’s like the whole thing never happened. The world starts spinning again and the lobby returns to its former state. She shakes her head, it’s not worth another thought, she doubts she’ll ever see him again.

“Are you okay?” A familiar kind voice asks, it’s Chisato, another maid at the hotel. She’s always been nice to Tsuneko and is among her favorite coworkers.

“I’m fine, that guy was just a dick.” Tsuneko says with a shrug, the crowd is loud enough she can get away with talking shit.

”Uh,” Chisato sucks in a deep breath, brown eyes soft with worry, “do you know who that was?”

“Should I?” Tsuneko doesn’t really pay attention to celebrities or the elite types, it’s all nonsense to her.

“Just what were you thinking making an idiot out of yourself!?” Erika’s harpy screech rises above every noise in the lobby. Her hands are on her hips and her glare is trained on Tsuneko.

“What were you thinking?” The twins, Rina and Kana, chime in from behind Erika with similar expressions, contributing nothing to the conversation.

“It was an accident,” she answers honestly, she was so focused on finding Erika she forgot to keep an eye out for where she was going. These things happen, all she can do is apologize and move on.

“It was your fault, you should pay attention to where you’re going!”

”I apologized, unless you have a time machine, there’s not much else I can do.”

”You have no business even being around V.I.P’s, especially if you’re gonna get in their way!”

”Oh, cause I’m sure your banshee screeches just make them feel oh so special.” Tsuneko and Erika glare at each other, she may be the head maid, but Tsuneko has never been one to bite her tongue.

“Go drop off all the special boxes in the basement storage room for the guests staying for the spa package, everyone else is too busy.” Her sharp gaze drifts over to Chisato at the last part, making it clear she shouldn’t offer any help. The task isn’t particularly difficult, just tedious and will take the rest of the day.

“Of course,” Tsuneko forces a bright smile and makes her voice sugary sweet, “maybe we should offer them some complementary ear plugs, as well.”

She scurries off before Erika can say another word, the head maid can screech into the void for all she cares, she got her work for the evening and that’s all that matters. It’s a couple flights of stairs to make it to the basement, so the elevator is best, whoever decided maids should wear heels is an asshole.

“I can’t take it anymore! It’s over, you cheater!” A woman screams as Tsuneko rounds the corner. A couple is standing outside the elevator, the woman throws a small mask at a man in a tacky red suit and storms off past Tsuneko.

The mask bounces off his face and onto the ground, it’s small and silver with intricate details. Judging by the man’s suit and the woman’s gown, they’re here for the I.V.C, which she doesn’t recall being masquerade theme. The man picks up the mask and tucks it into his jacket with a heavy sigh.

“Now I don’t have a date,” he murmurs then looks up, his gaze meeting Tsuneko’s.

“Excuse me, sir, I needed the elevator.” She points over his shoulder.

“You just saw the whole thing, didn’t you?”

“Ah, uh, yes. Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just take the stairs actually.” She turns around, content to evade the awkward situation, then a hand wraps around her wrist and tugs her back. He’s pulling her towards the elevator, she instinctively tries to get out of his grip, but he’s stronger than her.

“Aw, c’mon, no reason to run away. I’ll explain everything when we get there.” He continues pulling her away, he doesn’t seem to notice or care about her trying to evade him. A part of her wants to deck him, but that will get her fired in a heartbeat.

‘Sir, leave me alone.” She keep her tone even and stern, hoping something will make it through his thick skull. One more strong pull and he yanks her right into the elevator, making her yelp. She’s met with the sight of broad back, blocking the elevator doors and button panel. He jabs a button, the doors slide close, what the hell is this guy’s problem?

“Whew, I’m lucky I found another date. There’s no way I could go to the party without a beautiful woman on my arm.” He turns to face her, entirely too close, with a smile that would be charming in another situation. He’s trying to take her to the I.V.C, the ballroom is on the basement level, so that’s not that big of a deal. She just needs to get away from him once the elevator stops.

“Sir, I am not your date, I suggest you find someone else to accompany you.” She maintains her cool, taking a step back as the weirdo inches closer. He’s acting like a desperate romantic, though he seems a little old for that kind of thing.

“What are you talking about? I was so lucky to meet a pretty girl like you.” Her back hits the wall of the elevator, he’s closed in on her completely. His hand cups her face, his breath fansn across her skin. Her cheeks feel warm, whether from anger or embarrassment she’s not sure. He’s not unattractive, an older man with shoulder length light maple brown hair. But, regardless of looks, he’s being completely inappropriate.

“Sir, I’m working, I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Her words don’t seem to have any impact, caramel brown eyes busy taking in every detail of her face.

“Yeah, you’re just my type. This is fate.”

”I’d would hope fate wouldn’t be so cruel to me, sir.”

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors open behind him with a ding.

“Let’s go, princess!” His hand is back around her wrist and he pulls her out before she has a chance to fight. She tries to step back and pull, or twist her wrist out of his grip, but she can’t manage. Punching him still might get her fired, but they can’t expect her to just let a guest do whatever he wants. Why the hell is he so strong?!

“Let go of me, now!”

The noise of the ballroom drowns out her demand. She’s never been in the ballroom. She’s definitely never been in the midst of the I.V.C like this. The carpeting is a plush red, the walls have gold etchings, and white marble pillars are throughout the room. Everyone is dressed beautifully, perfectly tailored suits and designer gowns. They talk and sip from champagne flutes as they all bustle around. Spread of gourmet food are laid out, servers intermingle with the crowd, never letting a glass go empty for too long. An aquarium at the back of the room catches her eye, colorful fish swimming through crystal clear water, a dolphin passes through. The hotel owns a dolphin? She would have liked to know that. If the whole ordeal wasn’t a pretentious rich nightmare, she’d be into it. If only for the booze, food, and dolphin.

“Micchy!” A woman yells out and Tsuneko nearly slams into Stranger Danger’s back when he stops.. He lets go of her wrist and goes off towards the woman. All of this hullabaloo just to run off, he seems more like a hormone driven teenager than a grown man.

“Hey, do you have any champagne?” A voice asks just by her ear, their breath tickles and makes Tsuneko jolt. Her face feels hot as she turns to find the source; a man around her age with strawberry blonde hair and amber eyes. She’s clearly wearing a maid uniform, not a server’s.

“I do not.”

“You do work here, right? You’re looking around like Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, he’s cute, but something is off about him.

“I’m going to level with you, sir. I’m not suppose to be here right now, sorry.”

“That’s fine, hope you make it out of Wonderland, Alice.” His fake smile turns into a genuine smirk right as he leaves. Yeah, he’s definitely off. Still, cute though. She decides to shake it off and starts on her way out of the ballroom. It’s gonna take her forever to deliver those packages at this rate.

A sweaty hand grabs her wrist, bringing her to a halt, what the fuck now? The world is truly testing her today. It’s a stocky man in a garish green suit, he leers and looks her up and down, her stomach churns.

“Mhmm, I love girls like you. You wanna come with me to give me some special room service? I’ll make sure to tip you for the extra work."

“Gross.”

“What was that?”

“This is a hotel, not a brothel, sir." She’s able to break away from him much easier and starts towards the door again, he’s not deterred.

“You’re pretty lucky you met me. My net worth is 500 million,” he tells her, reaching out to touch her, she dodges him.

“Not enough for my dignity, sir." Her blood boils, at least Stranger Danger had the decency not to treat her like a prostitute. Does he really think her and the rest of the girls here are so beneath him and desperate for cash?Her hands clench into tight fists, she’s not allowed to punch guests. An unfortunate fact at the moment.

“C'mon, everyone has a price.” His hand presses against her hips, fuck this guy. She spins to face him, she needs to stop this, if she doesn't he's just going to hound every other female employee, until he finds someone he can bully into it. She’s not letting that happen.

“Look here, sir! I don't have the time, energy, or desire to deal with you disrespecting me and the hotel. I assure you, there’s not enough money in the world to convince anyone here to touch your pathetic excuse for a dick. Now, get your disgusting grubby hands off of me!” The color drains from the man’s face, when did the ballroom get so quiet? Just a few whispers, it’s like when she bumped into-

“This party is getting trashy,” a deep and sadly familiar voice rings out over her shoulder, making her jump. The asshole from the lobby was behind her, a group of women cling to and hover around him. They glare at Tsuneko, but asshole is glaring at the pervert. The look he gave her in the lobby seems downright kind in comparison.

“Uh, I'm so sorry Mr. Ichinomiya,” the pervert apologizes and runs off. Ichinomiya, that sounds familiar, but she can't place it. She rattles her brain for a moment, but she can’t seem to find it. The headache she has coming on isn’t helping. His eyes find hers, now that the pervert’s gone, the contempt has waned. It feels more like he’s looking at a fly under a microscope, like he’s trying to dissect and understand her.

“You again.”

“You again,” she mimics without thinking, her patience with the day is gone. His expression grows angrier, same for his groupies. She bites her lip to hold back laughter, normally she’d be more polite, but she just called a guest’s dick pathetic, so she might as well mock Ichinomiya, whoever he is.

“Get out of my way.” This seems to be his favorite phrase.

”Happily.”

“I hate when people don't know there place,” one of the women says as they move past Tsuneko. She forces a smile, but rolls her eyes once they’re gone and starts another attempt to leave this god forsaken party.

Her shoulder knocks into someone, making them both stumble.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her before going on about his business, as small as the exchange is, a friendly normal person feels like a breath of fresh air. Something on the ground catches her eye, a small good luck talisman. The cloth it’s in is a bit worn, black with small white rabbits. He must have dropped it when she bumped into him.

She tucks the charm into her pocket and finds his back in the crowd, she jogs after him. Calling after him does nothing, he either doesn’t hear her or doesn’t realize he’s who she means by ‘Sir’. His long legs take him further away quicker than her stubbier ones and she sees him go out door towards the back of the room. She manages to get through the door a few moments after.

The hall that greets her is absolutely empty, her heart sinks, he’s nowhere to be seen. Doors line the hallway, did he go into one of those rooms? She’d hate it if she wasn’t able to get it back to him. It’s clear he’s had it for a while, it must mean a lot to him. If push comes to shove, she may just have to put it in lost and found, but then there’s no way of knowing if he gets it back. She walks down the hallway, the dead silence is eerie after being surrounded by so much noise.

A few moments pass and she hears soft murmurs, they seem louder in the quiet hallway. There’s a door ajar, maybe that’s where he is, there’s a bounce in her step as she nears it. She peeks into the room; gunmetal glints in the low-light of the room. Suitcases filled with cash and guns are strewn across a table. Men in suits are standing around, speaking in a language she doesn’t understand. This is illegal, this is definitely illegal. Her breath catches in her throat, she’s seriously watching an arms deal right now.

The world goes out from under her feet and she’s spun around, her back slams against the wall. She’s at least a foot off of the ground, large hands pin her in place and sharp blue gray eyes glare at her. Her heart hammers in her chest, like it’s trying to escape her rib cage.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is harsh and demanding. A part of her wants to fight, but if he’s involved with what she just saw…. There’s no guarantee he’s not armed. She’s not keen on being murdered.

“I got lost looking for someone, sorry sir.” She doesn’t let her voice break and maintains eye contact. Showing her fear won’t help anything. He lets go of her and she falls to the ground, not too gracefully.

“You have five seconds to get out of here and forget everything you saw. Otherwise, you’ll be wiped off the face of the earth.”

“Understood.” She walks away, ignoring the impulse to run. Muscle memory leads her through the floor, the storage room shouldn’t be far away.

She steps inside, closing the heavy door behind her before she sits down on the floor. Her breath is shaky and she clutches her head in her hands, nails digging into the skin of her temples. What the hell is she suppose to do now?

She’s been threatened and there’s apparently gun deals going on in the hotel. People are getting hurt, there’s no way they aren’t if guns are involved. She can’t be certain how serious that man was about killing her. But, she doesn’t wanna test it and he didn’t seem like the kind of person to speak lightly.

Reporting it isn’t really an option; she has no evidence and there’s the whole being killed thing. Even if she is believed, if the hotel gets shut down, her and all her coworkers would be left without a job or home. Is the hotel even aware of this? Does Kenzaki or the owner know what’s going on here? Who even owns the hotel again? Some sort of CEO who’s head of a conglomerate group. What was it called again? Ugh, she can’t think straight.

She jolts to her feet, she needs to focus and get her shit together. Freaking out isn’t going to help anything. She needs to deliver those packages and go on with her work day, then she’ll drop the charm off in the lost and found. Work now, panic attacks later.

Tsuneko starts stacking up packages in her arms, her movements frantic and she nearly drops a few.. Her brain is a scrambled mess, she needs a dolly, she should have brought one over before stacking them in her arms. She’ll just carry the packages to the dolley, wherever the damn thing is. She can’t even see over the pile of boxes, she tries to look around them as she moves.

Something slams into her and knocks her back, the packages fall to the ground. A heavy thud rings out through the room, the sound of shattering follows. Her ass hurts and she can already feel the bruises forming. She’s spent the majority of this day on her ass.

“Fucking hell!” There are two men, they’re frenetic as they try to pry the lid off of a crate that’s fallen. She doesn’t recognize them, they’re not in any sort of Tres Spades uniform. Maybe they’re just here to move stuff?

The lid hits the floor with a clatter and she peeks inside, it’s filled with shards of what looks like broken glass. She can tell how high quality whatever the original object was from the quality of the material. It’s pristine and the light it catches reflects back iridescent.

“The statue's been smashed to pieces!” One of the men yells, his face turning red with rage.

“I’m sorry,” she struggles to keep her tone even, “I’ll talk to the manager, we’ll get it figured out.”

This entire day has been a mess, but if the worse thing to come out of it is having her pay docked for a decoration, she’ll be okay. It may be high quality, but she doubts a statue is worth too much. It’s just nice glass.

“This was the showcase piece for the auction! How are you going to pay for it!?”

“Look, I’m sorry,” she says again, but what do they mean by an auction? The men glare at her and creep closer, she takes a step back as chills run up her spine.

“You think an apology is going to cut it? You owe us?”

One of the men makes a grab at her and she throws a punch. Her fist connects with his nose in a spray of blood. The man staggers back and she makes a run for the door. His cohort gets in the way and pushes her back, knocking her flat on her ass.

“You really think you’re gonna get out of here that easy,” he taunts, standing over her.

The crate brushes against her as she scrambles away, she grabs a large shard of glass from it and buries it deep into the man’s thigh. He screams out and a gush of blood spurts out as she twists the shard out of his flesh. She clambers back up on her feet and makes another run for the door.

A weight slams into her back, her face smashes into the ground, her scream muffled. He presses his knee down on her back, his nails dig into the cuts on her hand as he rips the glass out of her grasp. One hand keeps her wrist pinned behind her, the other searches her pockets. She writhes and twists, trying to get out from under him, but it does nothing. He tugs her phone from her pocket and throws it across the room.

“I got an idea of how we can make our money back,” the other man says.

Wheels roll across the floor, stopping in front of her. She can’t wrench her neck up enough to see anything else. The man yanks her up on her feet and her heart sinks. A large golden bird cage glimmers on top of a dolly. Her throat tightens and her stomach churns.

“Do you just have this shit on stand by!?”

“Shut up.” The man in front of her opens the cage door, the other pushes her forward. She jerks back; kicks and stomps at the man’s feet. He digs his fingers into her hand again, pain jolts through her and her scream reverberate through the room. Taking advantage, he shoves her forward into the cage. Her hand sting as she catches herself, her head nearly smacking into the bars. They lock the door behind her, tears sting at the back of her eyes.

“She’s a little damaged, but she should still be worth something.” The men share a laugh at her expense, they can’t be serious. They can’t sell her, that’s ridiculous. She can’t get a deep enough breath, her lungs burn. She can hear the pounding of her heart, feel the thump of it against her ribs.

They roll her out of the room, slowly taking her through the halls of the hotel. It’s mostly empty at first, but slowly more people start to appear, moving random things. From art to what looks like a baby leopard, it’s a mishmash of things being carried through the halls. But, no one seems to care about her. It’s like this is just a normal everyday occurrence. She shakes the bars of the cage, they don’t budge at all, she yells out for help. Nothing. No one bats an eye.

“Hey, where’s the final item?!” A young man yells from beside a pair of double doors, inside it seems to be a backstage area. Her kidnappers start explaining that there’s been a change in item.

She pries a bobby pin out of her hair, it’s mostly lose already, her ponytail coming undone in the entire struggle. Taking advantage of her kidnappers distraction, she snaps the pin into two pieces and starts trying to pick at the lock. Her hand stings with every movement and she can’t clearly see the lock, but she’s desperate. If she can get it undone, she can make a break for it.

“What the hell-” His words are drowned out by Tsuneko’s howls of pain, his blunt nails dig into her open cuts pressing into tender skin and making more blood flow. The two broken pieces fall to the ground, he lets go after what feels like hours and she yanks her hand back, holding it close to her as she presses against the other side of the cage.

Her eyes sting, a few tears stream down her face. The men only laugh at her pain, she focuses on their injuries, the man’s broken nose and the steadily bleeding wound on the others thigh. It’s a small comfort to know at the very least, she gave as good as she got.

She’s rolled through the double door and her suspicions are confirmed, it’s definitely backstage of this auction, she presumes. As pointless as it is, a part of her is still hoping that’s a joke. It seems so unbelievable, like something out of a horror movie or a nightmare. She’s tries to steady her breathing, to calm down even a little bit. But, it’s all in vain. Her heart beat is frantic, she struggles to breath, her throat feels tight, and she struggles to keep more tears from falling.

The backstage is a bustle of activity as she’s taken to just beside the stage, still concealed from the audience, but she can look out and see what’s taking place. It’s a huge crowd of people, they watch the stage with rapt attention, faces concealed by masquerade masks. A man on stage talks and moves dramatically, dressed in what appears to be a mad hatter costume. His face painted a stark white and his eyes an unnaturally electric shade of blue.

A small clang catches her attention, she looks up and one of the men attaches a hanging chain to the top of the cage. Someone starts pulling somewhere and the chain starts to lift the cage off the dolly. Tsuneko yelps, if she’s suspended, her chances of escape become slimmer. It ascends higher and higher, until she knows that even if she could manage to shake the bars lose or bust the cage open, she’d fall and break something or bust her head open. The latter doesn’t seem like a bad option at the moment, at least it might kill her.

Slowly her cage is pulled to the side, taking her to center stage. Bright lights and eyes all trained on her. She’s really being auctioned off, someone is going to buy her.

“I present to you, our showcase item of the evening! A healthy young Japanese woman. Yes, that’s you!” The hatter gestures towards her with a flourish and bile rises in the back of her throat.

“Yeah, I caught that,” she screams back at him, kicking the cage. The bars still don’t budge, the gilded cage is firm and shows no sign of busting open.

“I’ll start the bidding at one million!”

Even if she managed to escape the cage and managed not to hurt herself in the fall, she’s surrounded by the crowd. There’s no way she can avoid being grabbed.

“Keep her as your slave, keep her as a toy! Do whatever you please with her, it’s truly up to you!” The hatter continues, not caring about her distress. She kicks and shakes the bars, at this point more an explosion of anger than a genuine attempt to escape, she screams in frustration. Tears prick at the back of her eyes and she doesn’t care enough to stop them anymore.

In the front row of the audience is a stocky man in a garish green suit, the masquerade mask does nothing to hide the pervert from the I.V.C. He grins and bids on her. She looks behind her and sees a screen just above her cage, a number on it rising more and more. More money than she’s ever seen. Her stomach churns and she kicks the cage again, no budging. The most she can do is make the cage sway back and forth, nothing shows any signs of breaking.

“She is a feisty one, all the more fun to break her,” the auctioneer taunts, all his actions colored with the flamboyance of a true showman.

“If I could reach you, I’d wring your fucking neck,” she screams, her throat raw from the force of it.

“Going once, going twice, sold to seat one hundred for twenty-million!” The hatter says as a bell dings, the number on the screen behind her has stopped. She can’t make out what seats are what numbers past the first couple rows. It’s not the pervert, he’s seat number five. But that doesn’t mean it’s anyone better.

The hatter closes out the auction; the lights die down and the curtains close. Tsuneko sits and pulls her knees to her chest, her cage lowers down. It’s settles back down on the stage with a small sound, it makes her feel just a tiny bit better, slightly less helpless than she was before. Someone is still staring at her, she can feel it, even while she’s curled up against herself. Peeking up, it’s the hatter. His harlequin style hatter costume is slightly unnerving, his unnaturally blue eyes are trained on her, his expressions seemingly curious. There’s something child like to it. Someone yells out and he jolts, like being woken up from a trance and goes scurrying off.

Her owner, her stomach churns at the the word, should be coming to collect her. Maybe, this will be a chance to escape. She’s not in the best state to fight, but maybe, just maybe, she’ll be able to take them down. She kicks again, a dull ache pulsing in her toes. She wipes away at tears, holding back sobs.

Footsteps echo out, growing closer and closer. Two men make their way to her cage, the small silver masks do nothing to hide their identities. At this point she has to wonder if they truly serve a purpose beyond aesthetic. She can tell right away it’s Stranger Danger in his bright red suit and the cute but off guy from the party. If it was just the latter, she’d be able to take him. He doesn’t seem particularly strong, shorter and thinner than Stranger Danger. But, she knows that the taller of the two was able to drag her around like a rag doll.

“This way.” Stranger Danger unlocks the cage door. She gives them wary glares as she stands on shaky legs and steps out of the cage. Tsuneko hides her injured hand in her pocket, not wanting to give them an easy target if they decide to hurt her.

The men stay quiet as they lead her to an elevator, the only one that goes to the penthouse. Sure enough, once they’ve stepped inside Stranger Danger pulls the penthouse elevator key from his pocket. The doors close and the carriage lurches into movement. She knew they were V.I.P’s, but not very many people have access to the penthouse. Sakiko has mentioned some people who stay their. An artist, who’s name escapes her, and the owner of the hotel. Who the hell owns this hotel again? She’s trying to rack her brain for that name again, Ishi, something? Her brain is fuzzy from everything going on. But, if she’s being taken to the penthouse, surely the owner is aware of what’s going on. It would be hard to hide the auctions, especially at that scale, from the person who owns the damn place.

It’s a silent tense elevator ride, Tsuneko racking her brain for an escape strategy. She already knows she can’t fight Stranger Danger, but maybe she could make a run for it when the elevator opens, go for the stairs. But, if the owner is involved, she wouldn’t get far. She doesn’t exactly have anywhere to go other than the employee dorms. Waiting for a better chance might be the best idea.

The elevator dings and stops, doors sliding open. She’s never seen the penthouse suites before. They step into the hallway, red carpeting and doors along the walls. A huge pair of double doors standing out among them. The only employee she knows of that has access here is Kenzaki, even Erika isn’t allowed in the penthouse.

The pair push open the double doors and Tsuneko follows, it’s a lounge. Lavish, with plush chairs and couches. A large set of of red carpeted stairs lead up to another level, a large window covers almost the entire expanse of a wall, showing a view of the Tokyo Bay. There’s an extravagant high tech television mounted on one of the walls. Two men are in the center of the lounge; both of which she recognizes. And there appears to be man passed out on one of the couches, he could be dead, she can’t be sure. The man who threatened to wipe her off the face of the earth and the asshole from the lobby, Ichinomiya, are in the center.

Ichinomiya. He’s the owner of the hotel. It hits her as hard as she hit the floor earlier. She sassed her boss. Prior to this auction nonsense, she’d be panicking, but the fear of upsetting her boss pales in comparison to the terror of being sold.

“We’ve brought her,” the cute but off guy announces, he doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. She’d like to punch him.

Ichinomiya sits on the red couch at the center of the lounge, crossing his legs as he looks her over. Him and the man who pinned her to the wall have intense stares, but she meets their gaze with the same ferocity. She’s not backing down.

“We bought you,” Ichinomiya states.

“I noticed.” Her response seems to amuse him, a smirk plays on his lips. She’s just happy her voice didn’t crack.

“So, we ended up catching you after all,” the tall man who pinned her comments, his dark hair is slicked back and his eyes are sharp. Even without him having her against a wall, he’s kind of intimidating, or perhaps it’s just the situation making him seem that way.

“You know this woman, Soryu?” Ichinomiya asks.

“You could say that.”

“He threatened to kill me.”

“Yeah, sounds like Sor,” Stranger Danger says with a laugh, pulling off his mask and adjusting his fedora. Cute but off guy pulls off his mask as well, both completely nonchalant..

“Look, you can’t actually buy me, this is stupid,” she decides to keep talking, maybe the more she talks the more it will all make sense and she’ll be able to get out of this.

“Anything and everything’s for sale at the auctions. If there’s someone out there to buy it, you can sell it. There are no rules,” Stranger Danger boasts, no one here seems to care about the abject horror she’s been through.

“Yep, you can get stolen art, secret information about politicians, even hire a hitman,” Cute but off guy adds.

“This is actually the first time a person’s ever been auctioned off, though,” Stranger Danger’s eyes seem to soften a bit as he looks over at her, a shred of empathy seeming to make its way through.

“You must have done something pretty bad, huh?” Followed by the apathetic question of cute but off guy.

“I accidentally broke some statue, that was apparently expensive, or whatever.”

“The statue of Venus. If it’s worth anything, it’s here,” Ichinomiya states with confidence.

“You’re reckless as always. This woman isn’t worth anything,” Soryu tells him.

“I agree, let me go home.”

“But, it’ll be fun thinking up ways to use her.” Cute but off guy is smirking, he’s a shit head it seems.

“No, it will not.”

“Who gave you permission to speak? Don’t open your mouth unless I say so,” Ichinomiya demands; she bites her lip and keeps her glare. She wants to strangle him, she wants to actually murder her boss. This fuckwit puts her through hell and doesn’t even wanna let her talk.

“If you got a problem with it, would you rather go back to number five?” Soryu asks with a smirk, at least none of them seem keen on violating her in that way, but she just glares at him. She needs to stay calm, as difficult as that is.

“C’mon now, Boss…Sor. You should be nice to girls,” Stranger Danger talks again, he’s calling Ichinomiya boss, too. He’s really the one she needs to get convince to let her go.

“Listen,” she starts, no one stops her, “there no reason to keep me. My existence does not benefit any of you in any way, shape, or form.”

“You’re just trying to lower your value,” cute but off dude chimes in, he’s getting less cute and more gremliny with every annoying word.

“Besides, a cute girl has plenty of benefits.” Any brownie points Stranger Danger earned have vanished, his comment and wink makes her grimace.

“I sincerely hope you aren’t desperate enough to waste twenty-million on getting your dick wet.” She levels a glare at him.

“Looks like she already has you figured out, Baba,” Gremlin, as he’s now being dubbed, says through a laugh.

“You wound me, princess.” Stranger Danger, Baba apparently, responds with a dramatic sorrowful expression.

“You know about the auctions,” Soryu takes back control of the conversation, “we can’t have you running off and telling someone.”

“No worries, I haven’t suffered recent brain damage.” Though her face feels significantly bruised after being slammed against the floor, Soryu raises an eyebrow at her, “Worst case scenario, you kill me and best case scenario I end up unemployed and homeless. I have no proof, police wouldn’t believe me and you’d kill me for talking. Even if they did, if the owner of the hotel goes to jail then the hotel goes under and I’m out of my job and housing. I’m not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds me.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Ichinomiya smirks “you didn’t seem too friendly earlier.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know who you were, so,” his glare harshens, but she’s not done talking, “look, I don’t even have a phone to call the police. I’ll sign an NDA, confidentiality agreement or whatever, I’ll give you the legal right to screw me over if I even think about telling people about the auctions. There’s no reason to keep me, I’m not worth twenty-million, I assure you.”

Soryu looks to Ichinomiya, he almost seems to be on board with her idea. Maybe he’s not that awful, if he supports getting her out of here.

“Boring!” Gremlin complains, she could wring his fucking neck, but she keeps her eyes focused on Ichinomiya. He makes the decisions here, that’s painfully clear.

“No,” Ichinomiya says as he gets up from the couch, “I determine your worth.”

“What!?” Her voice breaks more than she’d like it to, indignancy ruining her composure.

“We bought you, you belong to us. End of story. You’ll be staying in Soryu’s suite for the night, he’ll assure you don’t go running off.” He’s still smirking, despite the fact that Soryu looks absolutely pained. Ichinomiya leaves up the twisted staircase, pulling out his phone as he does so.

“Man, Soryu gets to play with Koro first, not fair,” Gremlin pretends to whine, but he’s smirking; who the fuck is Koro?

“Time for introductions,” Baba winks at her, “what’s your name princess?”

“.…Tomori Tsuneko,” she murmurs, she feels completed defeated, there has to be a way out of this mess.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Baba Mitsunari. I’m a thief, 35, single and ready to mingle. You can call me Micchan, Micchy, whatever you want.”

“Baba it is.”

“Pfftt, rejected. I’m Kisaki Ota, people call me the angelic artist,” Gremlin introduces himself.

“You already know Boss, so it’s Sor and Mamo’s turn,” Baba says, looking at the far less enthusiastic men.

“Kishi Mamoru,” The apparently not dead guy finally sits up and lights a cigarette.

“He’s a cop or unemployed, who knows?” Baba grins, “And the tall quiet guy is Oh Soryu, leader of the Ice Dragons.” Soryu looks so pained, you’d think he was the one who was just bought.

“Ice Dragons…?”

“Mafia,” Kisaki explains, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Enough of this,” Oh says curtly, “follow me, since I’m stuck babysitting you.” He strides out of the lounge without giving her another look.

“Sor’s kinda shy. You better go after him before he locks the door on you,” Baba tells her and she scurries off after Oh, who leads her down the halls towards one of the suites. She has to speed walk to keep up with his pace.

He’s stiff and rude, but if she’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty low of her current shit list. At the very least, he seems just as keen on getting her out of here as she is. His biggest concern seems to be keeping the auctions secret; she already told them she wouldn’t blab, but she gets the feeling if she steps out of line he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And the fact he still seems like one of the lesser evils here despite that, really says something.

She’s follows him into his suite, it’s easily five times the size of her dorm. They step into the living room, more than likely where she’ll be sleeping. The couch looks comfy, she’ll manage for the night. Oh starts pulling off his jacket, then unbuttoning his shirt. She catches a glimpse of bare muscles before she turns around, offering him something resembling privacy. It might seem naive, but she doesn’t think he gonna try anything, he seems pained by her presence let alone trying to touch her. Footsteps ring out, Oh walking past her shirtless. He’s in really good shape.

“Don’t get any weird ideas.” He steps into another room, a moment passes and then running water. Sounds like a shower, couldn’t he have started stripping down in the bathroom? She doesn’t really understand the point of the peepshow, she decides not to ponder on it too long and instead lets out a heavy breath.

She slumps onto the couch, exhaustion settling in to take the place of her anxiety. Running away isn’t an option, despite how tempting it is, the Ichinomiya Group has the power and money to find her anywhere. She’s not sure how far reaching the mafia is and she doesn’t want to find out. Even so, she has no intention of giving up. She’s got to convince Ichinomiya to let her leave. Though, clearly it isn’t happening tonight.

Tsuneko looks at her hand, surveying the damage done by the glass. It’s starting to throb and ache more. The largest mark is a nasty gash across her palm, then smaller cuts around her fingers. It hurts more when she bends or flexes them, but the slash across her palm is more concerning. She doesn’t think it needs stitches, but she isn’t a doctor, so who knows.

Something glints and catches her eye, from under the chair. She leans over to get a closer peek and her blood runs cold, it’s a gun. It’s not shocking, he was the one who threatened her after she saw the gun deal. But, she still can’t help being afraid. The potential of him killing her seems even more viable.

The water stops, doesn’t seem like a long shower, a minute or two tops. She tucks her hand back in her pocket and presses her back closer against the couch as the bathroom door opens. His hair is no longer slicked back, soft around his face, but it doesn’t look wet.

“You didn’t try to run away.” He was just testing her.

“I’m not stupid.” She can’t help the vitriol in her tone.

“That remains to be seen,” that earns him a glare, “As long as you keep behaving, I won’t do anything bad to you.”

“Got it.”

He walks around the couch to stand in front of her, she presses further into the back of the couch, he’s in her space. Oh cages her in, arms on each side of her head and hands on the top of the couch, he leans in until they’re almost nose to nose. She bites her lip and meets his glare, her face feels hot.

“I have no idea what Eisuke’s thinking, but let's make this clear. You better not tell anyone what you saw today. No matter what. Telling anyone else is the same as signing your own death warrant. Yours, your friend’s, and your family’s.”

“Got it.”

“You can use the living room and bathroom, just don’t come near my bedroom,” he tells her as he pulls away, gathering his discarded shirt and jacket.

”Understood. What about work? If I’m not there tomorrow people will get suspicious.” She’s not sure if they actually would, if any of them would care enough to notice, but any excuse to leave in the morning sounds good.

“You work as a maid here, right?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you remember to keep your mouth shut and don’t go running off, it’ll be fine. Understood?”

She nods as Oh leaves into another room, she assumes the bedroom. Tsuneko pulls off her shoes, her feet ache just a bit. He told her she could use the bathroom and a shower sounds nice, but she doesn’t have anything to change into. Plus showering in an unfamiliar place doesn’t sound too pleasant. There’s a shower in the employee locker room, she’ll wait til morning.

She curls up on the couch, carefully finding a position that won’t hurt her hand. A yawn escapes her, she needs to think of ways to get out of this, but she’s too exhausted to think straight. The whole ordeal has drained every last bit of energy she has. She closes her eyes and slowly drifts off to sleep.

#kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #eisuke ichinomiya #Soryu Oh #mamoru kishi #mitsunari baba #ota kisaki #kbtbb eisuke #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb mamoru #kbtbb baba #kbtbb ota #black market wonderland

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aj-the-psycho · 6 years ago

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The Hour: Sanders Sides Story - Chapter 12

CUPID FUCKED UP

TW: None

Summary: Roman is angry; Virgil is angry; Remy and Logan are confused and worried.

AO3 Link

Logan have warned Roman numerous times about taking care of himself. He almost never listened. Roman hated going to the supermarket. Usually, he would just buy whatever he needs in an insane quantity, so he doesn’t have to shop again until the next month. Most times, he would forget he bought certain things and whatever it was that he bought would end up unusable at the end of the month. Which was a waste of money!

Now, it’s time for shopping again. Roman hated shopping—unless it was for clothing or anything like that.

It was still early in the morning, it’s quite warm outside and the sky was clear. Perfect. He didn’t have class that day, so he planned on staying in his room until noon to write his theater project. However, after seeing that he had run out of food—not even a grain of coffee was in the kitchen—he had to drag himself out the door. He had to drive there, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry all his stuff by hand.

A gust of wind blew on his face as he entered the store. He took out his phone to look at the shopping list that he had lazily put together that morning. Browsing through the aisles mindlessly, he added all the stuff he need into the shopping cart. As he moved from one aisle to another, he saw something that made his brain burn with both anxiety and anger.

----------

They’ve been outside for an hour and a half. Remy was being loud again, but it didn’t matter because the sound of the city drowns his voice—a little bit. He had dragged Virgil to Roast & Grind to buy coffee and then they went to the park. They didn’t do anything there, just strolling around. Virgil was quiet the whole time while his beloved cousin rambled on about nothing.

Somehow, they ended up in a supermarket, buying snacks. Virgil didn’t mind the supermarket. It was nicer than any of the places Remy had brought him to that morning. The Russian boys always find the supermarket a fun place for some reason. They always cause mischief, big enough that they could annoy some people, but small enough of a trouble that they could get away with it. One time, Virgil made Remy put four bags of glitters on the fruits and vegetables section. People were so confused when they saw their fresh produce were glamorous. They were pretty sure that was probably a health hazard.

This time, Remy made Virgil dump two whole bags of candies into the flour in the bulk section of the supermarket. It was funny watching people’s faces when they find candy treasures clumped in their flour. One lady tried to take all the candies out, but it was a sticky situation. She gave up eventually, throwing the scoop into the container in frustration, which made a puff of flour flew onto herself. It made her more furious.

“I’m getting some cereals,” Virgil said, snickering and walked to the cereal aisle. Remy followed him, still laughing at the lady’s misfortune.

Once they were on the cereal aisle they picked their cereals. They didn’t bring enough money with them, so they could only choose one. Virgil preferred Honey Bunches of Oats, while Remy opted the classic Froot Loops. It was one or the other, not both. They debated on who will win—which one of them gets to bring their favorite cereal home.

“I picked first, so I’m totally getting this,” Remy insisted, hugging the cereal box onto his chest. He narrowed his eyes as a show of threat, but his sunglasses blocked them.

“What?! I’m the one paying, so it should be mine,” Virgil argued, tilting his head to the side, as if that sealed a deal between them.

“Okay, fair enough. Next time it’s my turn, Virge.”

As they turned to leave the cereal aisle, Remy’s eyes found someone familiar looking at them.

“Oh hey, girl. What ya ‘doin?”

----------

Roman’s eyes widened when he heard Remy speak to him. He was about to turn around, but it was too late. Remy was already walking towards him.‘Does this guy ever take off those sunglasses?’ He hesitantly looked over Remy’s shoulder to see the other guy who was with Remy. Yup, it’s him.

“Virge! C’mere, it’s my friend, Roman.”

‘Shit! shit! Shit! ¡Carajo! That’s him.’ Roman had to put a face of indifference to avoid suspicion from Remy.

While Roman was having an internal panic, Virgil was much the same, though he did a much worse job of hiding it. He stood frozen as Remy walked closer to him. Apparently Remy knows his soulmate? He didn’t realize how easy it was to recognize his soulmate and what’s more infuriating was that this guy was a literal living embodiment of a Leonardo Da Vinci painting. A sudden wave of anger flooded his chest. What did he ever do to this guy that made him hate Virgil?! They didn’t even know each other! Virgil shoved his tightly-clenched fists into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s going out of there.

As he turned his back to walk away, Remy called out to him. His anger rose up quickly and frustration was starting to show on his face by the way his brows furrowed so tightly. Virgil turned back around to face his cousin. Remy had a welcoming smile on his face, urging him to come closer. The guy—Roman, he remembered—was very different, however. He was giving Virgil an angry, knowing glare. He was just as furious as Virgil was.

Roman was annoyed. And angry. And worried. And a million other things. He never hated the universe this much before. ‘This is gonna give me a serious writer’s block later.’ He hadn’t expect it to be this easy to just stumbled on his soulmate. He hated the fact that he actually had one.

Virgil stomped forward. He gave Roman an intense glare in return, which the man had not expect. Soon after, an intense glaring match ensued. Remy was confused. He wasn’t stupid to suspect that there’s nothing going on between these two. But, what was it?

“Um, girls, y'all alright?” Remy asked, sliding his sunglasses down on his nose in slight concern.

“Fine.” Virgil said sternly, breaking the intense glaring contest and opted to look at Remy instead.

Roman’s brows furrowed even more. He admit that this… emo… guy was pretty cute. He looked even better in real life compared to when he had his hour. Though Roman didn’t care about that at the moment. He dug his nails into his palms, twisting his foot in agitation. How dare the universe throw this bullshit on him!

“Well, alright then. Wait for me here Virge, Imma get some drink.” Remy started walking away. He then turned back around, saying “Don’t go anywhere.” His tone sounded like a warning. Virgil didn’t like it one bit.

After Remy walked off to get a drink from the fridge, Roman and Virgil just stood in the middle of the aisle awkwardly. Virgil didn’t want to look at Roman. Anxiety and nervousness was starting to bubble up in the pit of his stomach. His hands were starting to get slick with sweat. He huffed an angry sigh. ‘What the fuck is wrong with me?!’ He finally spared a glance at Roman and saw that the guy was staring—no, glaring—at him. The anger from earlier started to simmer again in him.

“What?!” Virgil said defensively. An underlying heat of anger was hidden—poorly—behind his words. He crossed his arms in front of him, as if closing himself off.

“Dude, what is your problem?!” Roman responded with anger just as intense as Virgil’s. He was annoyed. To add to that, this guy just snapped at him?!

“Huh—” Virgil mocked a laugh—“I thought you’re the one with a problem. I didn’t even do anything to you.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s the deal with you. So, if you have a problem, just spit it out, emo nightmare!”

“Alright!” Virgil was getting more frustrated. His voice wavered with anger and… anguish? He didn’t exactly know what he was feeling. All he knew was that it was nothing good. “For one, what did I ever do that you hate me so much?”

“Why would I hate you when I don’t even know you?” Roman hissed through clenched jaws. His grip on his shopping cart tightened in contained fury.

“Stop acting stupid like you don’t know who I am!” Virgil burst in anger. “You don’t hate me? Well, that's not what you said in the note!” Virgil stomped away from Roman. He was fuming.

Little did they know, Remy had been listening to the whole ordeal from an aisle away. At first, he didn’t know if those two will actually start talking to each other. He didn’t expect their “conversation” to start with anger. It wasn’t even a long conversation and they both were already consumed with a hot mess of fury. ‘A note? A note… the note? They’re soulmates?’ He tried to come up with ideas on what could possibly had been written on the note to spark such anger in his lil’ cousin. He knew more than anyone that if Virgil is angry—doesn’t matter about what—he would most likely blame himself and it does not end well for him.

‘Roman, khuy tebe. I’m gonna beat your ass!’

He quickly followed Virgil out of the supermarket. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist and immediately let go. Virgil’s face was red and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. His breathing was heavy. Shallow and uneven.

“Hey, hey. Stop, calm down. Listen to me brateyek. Breathe slowly.” He brought Virgil’s palm onto his chest, gently instructing him to follow the rhythm of his breathing. After a while, Virgil calmed down, enough for Remy to be able to touch him without making him flinch. “Alright, what time do you have class?”

“Eleven…”

“Okay, ma'am, we have two hours to talk. You’re going to tell me what just happened is all about.”

“Remy, no. I’m fine.” Virgil insisted. He didn’t want Remy to know. About the note, about his soulmate. About the rejection. He didn’t want anyoneto know about it.

“Milaya, no, you’re not.”

“Fine.” Virgil sighed in defeat and let his cousin dragged him back to his favorite coffee shop.

----------

Logan didn’t know how to deal with this. This is far too complicated for him. He could solve complex math and physics problems in minutes. He could spew out facts about so many things—he’s basically a walking encyclopedia—but not this. This, he cannot seem to understand no matter how hard he tried in the past.

“Logan, stop staring! What am I gonna do? If Remy finds out about that, he is so going to kill me. I mean, he’s smaller than me, but that guy is feisty!”

Roman had called Logan urgently right after he was finished with grocery shopping. He didn’t buy half of the things he had in his list. He had told Logan that he needed to see Logan as soon as possible. Fortunately, Logan was free at the time so he welcomed Roman to his apartment. Roman didn’t say the specifics of his urgency, but Logan said yes anyway. He hadn’t expect this kind of outburst, however.

Now, laying on Logan’s lap, screaming about his soulmate problems, which he wouldn’t have if the universe had enough sense not to give Roman a soulmate. Logan was rather helpless, looking down at his best friend with confusion and annoyance. If it wasn’t only for the fact that they had known each other for twelve years, Logan would have kicked Roman out.

“Roman, I do not know if you are aware, but are you sure you want to ask me about this? Maybe I should call Patton to help you.” Logan said with furrowed brows. He truly was confused. “Besides, I thought it was your fault that you wrote that in your note to your soulmate.”

Roman let out an infuriated gasp. Did Logan seriously just said that? “How dare you! And no, I don’t need Patton’s help. I don’t even know him.”

“Well then, I really don’t know how I’m going to help you, because frankly, I despise anything that involves feelings and emotions.”

“Fine, Logan. Whatever. If I had to speak to Patton, just so I don’t get murdered, I’ll do it.” Roman finally said reluctantly. He was actually rather intrigued by Logan’s offer. “Logan I have a question. How are you and Patton?”

“I don’t understand what you are asking, Roman.”

“I mean, how are you guys doing in this whole… soulmate thing?”

“Relationship wise, there isn’t anything really happening. Patton and I are very different, but as of now, we are quite good friends. Patton is always so bubbly and upbeat, it’s rather overwhelming to keep up with him at times, but I’m fine with it. He was so happy a few days ago when Damien—who, if you remember, is Patton’s twin brother—found his soulmate. I didn’t think anyone could get that excited unless they were a child, but I thought it fit him…” Logan trailed off, realizing that he was rambling about Patton to Roman. He bit his cheek, fighting the warmth crawling on his face.

Roman raised his eyebrows curiously. Logan never talks about anyone like that. Slowly, a small mischievous smile bloomed on Roman’s face. Is this really happening?

“Sooo…” Roman draw out his word, “you’re saying you like him?”

“What, ya—no… I mean, no. I—I don’t know. Maybe?” Logan’s cheeks was starting to get redder.

Roman made a small clicking sound with his tongue and gave Logan a knowing smile—which Logan absolutely hate—and pat him on the back. “So, when can I meet your boy?”

“My boy?”

“Shush, Logan. Call Patton.”

“Alright.”

**********

Spanish stuff (tell me if I made any mistakes):

¡Carajo! [Fuck!] --- Russian stuff (tell me if I made any mistakes):

Хуй тебе! Khuy tebe! [Fuck you!]

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omgericzimmermann · 7 years ago

Text

Queer Eye for the Recently Out NHL Player - Pt 2

Read Part One || Read It All on AO3

“So, we’re going to talk about the joys of slow cooking.”

Jack nodded, and tried to ignore the cameras, but Bitty hadn’t looked directly at him once since they met in the park and headed for the grocery store. Now wandering around the Providence farmers’ market to look at fresh produce, Bitty seemed determined not to look in his direction, and Jack had no idea what he’d done. Every so often, Bitty would glance at him from the corner of his eye and then skitter away like a spooked horse. Jack had no idea what to make of it.

“You don’t need to live on just broiled chicken, but I know prep time is a problem, so the genius of the crockpot is that you can just put all your things in there in the morning while you stretch after a run or your morning workout, and by the time it gets to be dinner, you’re set to go,” Bitty said. He carried on for a bit, but most of what he said went in one of Jack’s ears and right out the other. And Bitty still didn’t look at him.

When the cameras finally stepped aside to do some background footage of the market and Jack and Bitty were shuffled back towards the car, Jack cleared his throat.

“Did I do something?” he asked.

Bitty recoiled and finally turned to look at him. “Do something? What do you mean?”

“You just – uh – you wouldn’t look at me while the cameras were on,” Jack said, wondering if he sounded as pathetic as he felt.

Bitty stared at him and then lowered his sunglasses down his nose just far enough that he could look at Jack over the tops of them. “Oh sugar, you did absolutely nothing,” he said. Jack flushed more than he would’ve liked at the endearment. “But with that haircut Derek got you, I was afraid that if I looked at you while the cameras were on they’d pick up me sweating like a sinner in church, and that’s bad for my image.”

Jack had exactly zero idea how to respond to that, and followed Bitty to the car silently. For part of the ride to the shopping district where Bitty would be leaving him with Justin and Adam, Bitty seemed nervous, like he’d maybe overstepped Jack’s boundaries by admitting he thought Jack was attractive.

“I, um, I think you’re cute too,” Jack heard himself say, and then immediately realised he needed to pull his foot out of his mouth. He knew there were cameras in the truck, and surely one of those had just picked up his idiotic confession. “I mean – um – I just – uh--”

Bitty, thankfully, was laughing cheerily at the blush on Jack’s face, and at the next stoplight, leaned across the centre console to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Isn’t that going to go on the cameras?” Jack asked, meek.

“Oh, sugar, they are going to edit that one right out, don’t worry your pretty little head,” Bitty said. “It’s all good and fine if we flirt with you so long as we don’t actually mean it, but anything that looks like it’s going to be more than joking they cut. Especially if it’s me, since I’m the only one of us who’s single.”

Jack nodded, somewhat reassured, and rested his hands on his knees to keep from fidgeting.

“You’re, um, single?” he asked.

Bitty’s laughter carried them the rest of the way to the shops.

Shopping with Justin and Adam wasn’t really an experience Jack ever wanted to repeat in his life, but at the very least with the amount of clothes they bought him, he didn’t think he’d ever have to shop again. Jeans, a constant battle thanks to Jack’s hockey butt, were something Justin insisted on getting him, and teaching him how to have them tailored the same way he had his suits tailored. He also made Jack put some colour into his wardrobe, though not so much that Jack might be too spooked to wear it. The end results weren’t actually that bad, if Jack thought about it objectively. But it was absolutely embarrassing to be taken to the Fab Five loft and coerced into modelling his new clothes for the rest of the group. Jack had spent most of his life actively avoiding modelling opportunities.

And then, suddenly, it wasn’t all that embarrassing. The boys whooped and hollered every time Jack stepped into the living room with a new outfit, but Bitty got progressively redder in the face. When Jack turned to leave the room, he heard Bitty get up and say, “I need a drink. Anyone else thirsty?”

Jack’s grin carried him through the rest of the day.

Jack didn’t recognise his apartment. The only familiar thing about it on first glance was Puck cantering up to him and bouncing and wiggling excitedly until he stooped to scratch her. And then he looked closer. The boxes were gone, replaced by walls of dark bookshelves that held all his books and framed pictures of his parents and his teammates and himself and Puck. The walls, rather than bare, now held expertly framed photographs of Providence that –

“Wait those are my pictures,” he said, abandoning Puck’s fur to look closer at the pictures on the wall. “I took those.”

“Yep!” Adam said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I picked ones without geese in them, since most people find those somewhat unsettling,” Dex said.

“Geese or pictures of geese?” Bitty asked from the kitchen.

“Both,” Dex and Derek replied.

“And we put this up,” Adam said, steering Jack towards his bedroom. The closet overflowed with the new clothes Justin had picked out, and the ones Jack had previously owned were gone, with the explanation that if he didn’t own anything that made him look like a Burger King bandit, he couldn’t accidentally dress like one. But Adam was pointing at the framed contract on the wall. It was next to Jack’s diploma, and innocuous and ordinary looking, but when Jack got closer, he saw that it was his second contract with the Falcs.

“It’s here to be a reminder,” Adam said. “You’re allowed to put down roots here. You’re allowed to make friends. You and Mashkov both signed eight year no-trade contracts last year. You’re not going anywhere. You get to really make this place yours, you know?”

Jack swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and nodded.

“And besides, you’re thirty, so eight years from now you’re probably gonna be close to retirement unless you pull a Jagir on us, so Providence is really the sort of place that’s going to be your, uh…” Adam floundered for words, and was saved when Puck trotted up to them and sat on their feet. “Your forever home.”

“Thanks,” Jack said quietly, a little surprised he could form sounds at all.

“This is your life here, Jack,” Bitty said, making both him and Adam flinch in surprise. “You are an amazing hockey player, you’re now openly bi, and you’re in Providence to stay, so make it yours. Make it the life you want it to be without worrying it’s all going to disappear in a mid-season trade.”

Jack met Bitty’s eyes for a lot longer than he meant to, and then nodded.

“Now come on, let’s figure out what you’re going to make for the boys on Saturday,” Bitty said, and dragged him off to the kitchen.

When the boys were gone, Jack was left with himself, Puck, and his new apartment. The camera men promised to return for his Saturday dinner with Tater and Thirdy and Marty and their wives, but it was only after the dust settled on Friday evening that he realised he’d forgotten the very crucial step of getting Bitty’s phone number. He wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to have Bitty’s number, but the boys were right: he was going to be in Providence for the long haul, and so was Bitty, and he got to really be himself from now on, so maybe if he wanted to be himself and do that by asking Eric Bittle on a date, surely there was no harm in that.

He spent Saturday morning in the park with Puck, running and occasionally stopping to take pictures. Maybe if there was a good one of the river, he could have it framed for the bathroom.

The thought took him by surprise, but as soon as he got over the initial shock, it made him smile.

The camera crews had arrived and been let into Jack’s apartment while he was out and were setting up their equipment while Jack headed to the shower. He tolerated the camera following him while he picked one of the new outfits from Justin, and wondered if the boys approved of it from where they were certainly watching this unfold at the Fab Five loft. He wondered if Bitty approved.

The cameras watched while he pulled the ingredients he’d need for dinner from the pantry – which now had food in it that wasn’t just protein powder – and then reached for the fridge. In the centre was a pie with a sticky note on the case’s lid. Jack picked it up curiously.

I thought you could impress your guests with this for dessert - <3 ERB

Jack felt himself grin and flipped the note over. To his great relief, there was an instruction to return the pie dish to Bitty in the immediate future, followed by a phone number.

Queer Eye Scandal?

In the highly-rated show’s fourth season, the so called Fab Five made over the NHL’s Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers, shortly after Zimmermann had hosted a press conference revealing his sexuality to the greater public. Being the first openly LGBT man in the NHL was an unexpected move for the famously reclusive Zimmermann, but it was quickly followed by a similar action from Kent Parson, Captain of the Las Vegas Aces.

However, since the airing of Zimmermann’s Queer Eye episode (Netflix – February 2021), Zimmermann and one of the show’s hosts, Eric Bittle, have been seen together around various Providence locations, sometimes with a dog identified as Zimmermann’s, and occasionally alone in intimate restaurants. To the allegations of impropriety, representatives for both Zimmermann and Bittle have offered “no comment.”

#zimbits #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #zimbits fic #omgcp #queer eye au #the ghost ship scribbles #enjoy if you feel like it #it's mostly fluff #no that's not true #it's entirely fluff

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mariestherapeutics · 7 years ago

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Grey Skies ft. Baekhyun Part 2: (LOTTO Series) I FORGOT THE SECOND PART OOF. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are my sunshine, my only. (There are) grey skies...

(🎵) You can pretend it's meant to be, but you can't stay away from me.

Baekhyun wakes up the next morning with a raging headache. The first thing he does is groan, clutching his head to make the pain go away, but of course, it does little to soothe his aching.

Surprisingly, when he opens his eyes, he doesn't recognize the room as his hotel room, and he most certainly doesn't recognize the woman sleeping at the window seat on the other side of the room.

He watches her for a solid minute, trying to remember the events of last night, when it suddenly hits him. He willingly consented to being your slave.

Baekhyun decides to hate himself for it later, but right now he notices the glass of cool water you set aside for him and he drinks it ravenously. Fortunately, the effects instantly kick in and his headache dies a little, but the dull throbbing is still there.

It takes him a few more minutes to notice the sticky note on the lamp beside him. The bedroom lights are off, and the only thing illuminating the room is the sunrise, which casts a pretty orange glow over your sleeping form. He pulls the sticky note off and reads it to himself.

"Your first job is to wake me up! The second is to tell me whether or not you still want to do this for your money."

How considerate of you to give him an option of backing out. But Baekhyun rememebers just how much he lost yesterday, and still can't find the courage of declining.

Baekhyun ends up watching you yet again, unsure of how to wake you. He decides to shower first, not wanting to smell like old booze and sweat.

(Your P.O.V)

"Hey, um, I actually didn't catch your name last night.." The voice is quiet, like a whisper of wind on an early morning. "Do you want to get up now? It's kind of early, but you didn't put a time on the sticky note, so..." Sticky note? What is this voice saying?

Your eyes flutter open, and you blink up at the man kneeling beside you. You didn't notice he had his hand on your thigh until he moves it off of you. "Baekhyun, what..?" You say, confused and sitting upright. And then you remember that your plan had worked last night; Baekhyun fell for your trap.

"Do you know me? How come you know my name, but I don't know yours?" He asks you.

"You're not exactly subtle about your wealth.." You murmur, making his cheeks turn red. "Lots of people know your name, it's not just me." He looks proud of that, which makes you notice something. "You woke me up! Does that mean you...?"

He hesitates, but eventually nods. "I still want my money." Oh. My. Gosh. You think. How can your day get any better?

"Then here's your first buck back." You smile, pulling out a fifty dollar bill from underneath your pillow. He's about to take it, when you suddenly pull it away. "Did you use my shower?" You ask him, realizing his hair is damp.

"Yes." He stammers, confused as to why the money isn't in his hand yet.

"Without my permission?" You add, and he seems to realize his mistake. "Do you know how much the water bill is in this city? You're going to have to pay for that." You say sternly, but you're not really mad. It's just fun to see him deflate in disappointment. "You also used my bed all night, so I'm taxing that, too."

Instead of a fifty dollar bill, you hand him a twenty. He wrinkles his nose, but takes it anyways. "Thank you." He says, meaning it. "What else can I do for you?" He asks, and you elicit a cute giggle.

"Someone's eager for their money." You say, and Baekhyun finds himself staring at your lips too long. The image of them on his flashes in his mind, and he remembers that he kissed you last night. You still, realizing his sudden silence, and you think back to last night, too.

Just as suddenly, you announce, "Well? Are you just going to sit there or are you going to bring me to my kitchen?"

"H-Huh?" Baekhyun stammers, blinking away from his thoughts. "Wait, I have to CARRY you places?"

"Oh, come on, it's not that hard of a task for the money you're asking for." You taunt, and with a sour look your way, he slips his arms under your legs and bottom before lifting you up easily. When he turns around, he makes a shocked noise.

"You're not heavy at all." He says, not unkindly, but just stating the truth. His chest vibrates with his words, and because you have to hold onto his shoulders in this position, you can't avoid his breath, which fans down your neck and makes your blood hot. When you reply, your voice is lacking the authorative tone it had before.

"See?" You ask lamely, making sure to keep your face angled in a way that he couldn't see it. "Not nearly as hard as it's worth." You mumble.

Silently, Baekhyun carries you down your spiral stairs with ease, and because you just woke up, you can't help but imagine this can be real. Baekhyun, all yours, loving you and caring for you, bringing you down for breakfast in the morning.

But the daydream is cut short, because he sets you down on a stool by your kitchen island. You mask your disappointment with an expecting look. "Well?" You ask him, and he fidgets unsurely.

"I don't know what you want from me." He confesses, rubbing his neck. "You have to tell me what to do, or else I won't know."

"You have to figure it out on your own, Baekkie. It's called WORK for a reason." You twirl a twenty dollar bill in your hand, and you see that Baekhyun is shocked by it, because he has no idea where you pulled it from. "Why would I have you bring me to the kitchen?" You decide to help him with a hint.

Instantly, he realizes why and starts making a move to your fridge, when he suddenly stops, looking at you hesitantly. "You're not going to charge me for using your ingredients, are you?" He asks, and you originally were, but seeing that he asked about it, you shake your head guiltily. Maybe you're being too strict.

While he's cooking, you take the time to quietly observe his backside. How nice would it be to see this every day? Baekhyun in your presence, taking care of you? Before you can stop it, you feel a blush rise to your cheeks at your scheme. You have the audacity to feel shame for it, but you're greedy, and you're the kind of woman to take what you want, even if it means forcing it. Getting Baekhyun in this predicament is what you've been working towards, and now that's happening, you can't stop yourself from feeling elated.

But at the same time, you know that your fantasies will be short lived. Ever since you first met the guy, you knew that he's the kind who only cares about his money. He has no room in his heart for actual love, a fling, maybe, but not real love.

When he looks back at you, you look away.

"Are you always so quiet?" You hear him ask, and when you look again, he's facing away. "Maybe it's because you just woke up, but you struck me as the loud type."

"I'm loud when I want to be." You reply, leaning on your palm and watching his butt. It looks nice in his dress pants, firm and totally grabbable. (But that's for another time.) "Why?"

"Well, you were just so competitive last night." He shifts from one foot to another, and you smile despite yourself when his butt flexes, too. "I figured you were more... I don't know, obnoxious."

That makes you laugh, and he turns to look at you in surprise. By then, your eyes averted from his bottom and are staring in his eyes, instead. "Maybe I am, a little." You say it more for yourself than to reply to him, since you definitely feel that way. You made him your personal slave, for Pete's sake!

Once breakfast is served, you're pleasantly shocked to see that he made you an omelet. You smelled eggs, but since he was constantly in front of the stove, you didn't know what he was doing with it. You were expecting them scrambled, if you're being honest, because it's the easiest dish to make.

"Looks good," You compliment, getting your own silverware to save him the effort. He sits down across from you with his own plate, which you look at with the most uncontented expression you can muster. "You made your own food?" You ask him, and he looks at you incredulously.

"Are you taxing me?" He asks, looking fed up. If he's this impatient, then you wonder how long he'll last until he just drops everything and leaves.

"No," You change your expression to a playful one. "I was joking, sorry." You tell him, tasting the omelet instead of confronting your feelings. Even though you spent so much time saving up money to bid against him for this reason, you still felt bad for everything you made him do. Maybe you'll be the one to crack first, instead.

"Is it good?" He asks, biting his bottom lip in question. You try not to gawk at it too long before answering.

"It's actually really good, yeah," You say, taking another bite hungrily. "Do you like cooking?" To your surprise, he nods pleasantly, seeming happy of your praise.

"It's my side job, when I'm not out gambling, I mean." He says bashfully, and you barely suppress another smile at his adorableness, covering it up with a bite of your food. Soon, he digs in to his own omelet.

(Baekhyun's P.O.V)

It's not easy for Baekhyun to forget that you're a beautiful woman. Twice today, when you weren't paying attention to him, he's found his eyes wandering your form on their own. Of course, he always stopped himself from doing more than that, because his only goal is to get his fifteen thousand back.

Throughout the day, you make him do tedious tasks, all simple and not difficult to do. For the bucks you're paying him, though, he feels like he's cheating you. You're paying him twenty dollars just because he comes to the room when you call him. Sure, he wants his money back, but Baekhyun likes earning his money right.

He tells you this at the end of the day, when you're offering him another fifty for grabbing you a glass of water. "It's not fair." He says, nose scrunched. To his surprise, you look mad at him for saying it.

"If you don't like the way I'm paying you, then you can go ahead and forget about getting your money back." You say stubbornly, turning your head away and crossing your arms. You're sitting in bed, hair wet because you just finished your night shower. "I'm the one paying you, anyways. I decide what for."

"But--" He tries, growing upset also.

"No," You cut him off, lifting your chin dismissively. "You may go downstairs and sleep on my couch. Please don't disturb me any more about this." You finish, but he doesn't budge. You're making him mad now. How can you be so generous while paying him? Did you not even care about the money you won? If so, why were making him do all this? Are you trying to humiliate him? He doesn't even know you!

"What if I refuse?" He asks you, setting your glass of water down on your nightstand and clenching his fists. You don't turn your head to him, but look up from the corner of your eye testingly. "What if I say no?" He asks.

"You may go downstairs and sleep on my couch, Baekhyun." You repeat more sternly, but he stays still.

"What if I don't want to sleep there?" He steps forward to appear intimidating, and it seems to work, because you bend your legs under the sheets and lean back, finally looking at him full on. "It's uncomfortable sleeping on a couch. And don't tell me to sleep on your window seat, that's even worse. I don't know how you could do it without cramping everywhere." He says, lifting his chin with a sneer. When you give no answer, still staring up at him worriedly, he gets an idea. "What if... I want to sleep here?" He asks, fingers unflexing and trailing along the edge of the bed.

"H-Here?" You reiterate, face turning red. He doesn't know why until he realizes you must have thought he meant with you. He didn't even mean it in a lewd way, but maybe you misunderstanding him will help him out.

"That's right," He smirks, crawling onto the bed. You scoot back in alarm until you're pressed against the headboard, where he places his hands to trap you in his arms. "What will you do," He asks slowly, glancing down at your parted lips. He remembers what they felt like on his the other night, which makes acting this way easier on him. "If I take advantage of you?"

There's a short pause in each of your breathing when he looks back into your eyes. They're so vulnerable, wide, unsure. It makes Baekhyun's heart beat a little faster, giving him ideas that he does his best to force down. When he moves his face a little closer, you have no reaction, and then--

"Okay!" You shout, pushing him away and scaring the life out of him. "Okay, sleep here! I don't care! You tell me what you want to be paid for, then. Just don't--" You scramble off the bed. "--ever do that again!" And before he can assure you he wouldn't actually do those things, you run downstairs and disappears.

Baekhyun looks down at the bed sheets, clenching them and breathing awkwardly. Why did his heart beat so fast during that? He was just trying to scare you into getting his way, so why did his mind go other places? He didn't want to do anything more than scare you, but when the distance grew slimmer, his body started doing things on its own. He instinctively moved closer to kiss you, and it's leaving his mind spinning.

It's all about the money, he reminds himself, breathing shallowly. Nothing else is important... nothing else is necessary.

(Continued in Chapter 3... Grey Skies)

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tonystarkjr · 7 years ago

Text

Birthday Wishes come true sometimes.

I know Ringo’s birthday is monday, but i wanted to write something now anyway! This is also for @hazelestelle! Love you!!

Ringo wakes up way too early. It's Easter Monday. Ringo sighs heavily and tries to cuddle back into his blanket. A bit light shines already into his room, but he could sleep a few more hours anyway. He is pretty sure Easy wants to sleep for longer too, so he turns around and…

Nothing.

The other bedside is empty. No sign of Easy and when Ringo carefully touches the sheet, it's already cold. Means Easy is gone for a while now. Ringo feels stupid.

He doesn't know why he thought Easy would want to spent easter Monday together with him, since it's also his…birthday.

Ringo shakes his head at himself and then stretches. He is fully awake now and since cuddling with Easy isn't an option anymore, he should get up and make himself some coffee.

"Morning!"

Ringo rubs over his eyes and nods at Elli, who is already awake and makes breakfast. For a tiny second Ringo thinks Elli wants to say something else, but she doesn't.

"Good morning, where are the others?" Ringo asks her, because maybe she actually knows where Easy is.

"Paco is still in bed, you know how he is. I think Saskia is out, but she should be back soon. Coffee?" Elli asks and then turns back to her breakfast. Ringo doesn't answer her and just holds out his favorite mug. Elli takes it and fills it up with coffee for him.

"Thanks." Ringo mumbles and takes a big gulp. It's still too hot, but he doesn't care.

"Oh. You wanted to know where Easy is, huh?" Elli asks then and she waggles her eyebrows. Ringo rolls his eyes at her and tries to hid his smile. It's annoying but he can't stop smiling, when he thinks of his boyfriend.

God boyfriend.

He would've laughed everybody in the face a few months ago.

"Yeah. So you know, where he is?" Ringo asks and eyes her breakfast a bit jealous. She just pushes her plate farther away from him and then shrugs.

"He left a message for you." Elli answers then and points at the fridge. Ringo can see a yellow sticky not and hastily stands up. He can hear Elli laughing, but he ignores it and goes over to the note. It's really Easy's beautiful writing.

"Ringo,

I forgot to tell you, that I got an important shooting today. Be back late.

Don't wait for me.

Easy."

Ringo stares at the note, as if that would change the words. In the end, the note stays the same. Ringo can't help itch feels a bit disappointed. Not only did Easy forget to tell him about the shooting, the note is also not as sweet as the ones, Ringo is used to.

"You okay?" Elli asks, because Ringo is still standing there, with this stupid note in his hands.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" Ringo asks back and he puts the note in his pocket. He was so sure Easy would remember, but maybe it was his own fault anyway. He hadn't told Easy when his birthday was, had he? Maybe a long time ago. So he could only blame himself.

"You just had that look on your face." Elli says, but he shrugs and goes back to eating. Ringo frowns and then sits back down. Elli doesn't remember as well.

But they weren't close anyway.

"So how was your easter?" Elli asks, when Ringo sits there in silence, trying not to sulk about the whole situation. He never celebrated his birthday before, why would it be different now?

"Oh great. Uhm…Easy and I just had a very lazy Sunday." Ringo says and Elli nods. Ringo knows she spent the whole weekend with Paco in Billerbeck with her family.

"Lazy huh?" Elli grins and Ringo huffs.

"And you and your husband? Had fun or did you get another one of those Billerbecker curses?" Ringo asks and Elli throws her napkin at him.

"If you make fun of that, you will be the first one to get cursed!" Elli says and she sounds serious about all of this. Ringo says nothing, just puts the napkin back on the table.

Isn't he cursed already anyway?

"Morning!"

Ringo turns around and sees Paco limbing towards them. He smiles widely and Ringo grins back. Of course Paco would remember his birthday. Ringo considers them good friends now and he likes to spend time with Paco.

"Hey Paco." Ringo says and his smile drops off his face, when he sees that Paco rounds the table and kisses Elli, before he sits down. He doesn't even look at Ringo.

"So…what are you doing today?" Ringo tries again, when Elli and Paco kiss again. He kinda wants to go back to his room, but before that he needs more coffee. So he stands up and goes over to the coffee maker.

"Ah nothing really. We thought about a quiet day at home, right?" Paco says and Elli giggles, when he kisses her neck. Ringo huffs under his breath and nods at himself.

"Yeah I will be in my room." Ringo mutters, but he is sure the others don't even hear him between their kisses. God he wishes he could kiss Easy now, too.

In his room, Ringo sits down on his windowsill and looks outside. It's raining and he can see a few people with umbrellas outside. Well that just fits for his day. Even Paco didn't remember. He knows he never made something big out of his birthday before, but normally people at least think of him.

He looks at his phone. He could call Kira. Before he can actually do that, it rings at the door. Ringo rolls his eyes and waits for Elli and Paco to open the door. But nothing happens and it rings again. Ringo puts his mug down harder than necessary.

"What?" Ringo asks annoyed, when he opens the door, because its still ringing.

"Hello to you, too brother." Tobias says and he still sounds so angry. Ringo thinks he wasn't even a minute not angry since KayC left. Not his problem in the end. But Tobias is probably here because he remembered! Half-brother and all that shit. Ringo smiles at Tobias.

"Where's Easy?" Tobias asks then and Ringo's smile vanishes.

"Shooting." Ringo says and he sounds angry himself now. Tobias nods shortly and then leaves without another word. He bangs his own apartment door loudly. Ringo grumbles something and then closes his own door. Damn him.

Ringo goes back to his own and tries to swallow down his disappointment. He goes back to his windowsill and takes the mug. His coffee his cold and Ringo huffs at nothing and takes his phone. Kira of course would remember his birthday, since it's her own too.

He tries to call her, but she doesn't answer the call. Ringo is so frustrated that he throws his phone onto his bed. He even misses the bed and his phone lands on the floor. Ringo tries to ignore the tears that sting in his eyes.

He wouldn't cry over this.

So he tries to ignore his frustration and looks outside his window. He can see Irene and Robert outside talking and he can see that Irene holds a beautiful cake in her hands. Ringo sniffles.

Why did he thought that anybody would have done something for him on his birthday like such a cake. He doesn't even got a single congratulation and isn't that sad?

He knew that most of "their" (more like Easy's) friends still hate him. He is still not forgiven and of course they have any right to do this. Bambi still doesn't even look at him and well Tobias shows more than once a day how much he hates Ringo.

The first tear drops onto the windowsill and Ringo laughs bitterly through the next tears. God he is pathetic.

Easy is grinning, when he quietly opens the front door from the apartment. He really has to be quiet or Ringo would hear him. Entering the kitchen he looks around, Ringo is nowhere to be seen, so hopefully he is in his room.

"Guys!" Easy whispers and the other come in as well. Everybody is carrying something and he shushes them more than once, when they are too loud.

"I bet he sulks in his room anyway." Tobias says annoyed and he puts some candles on the table. Easy just shrugs, but maybe Tobias is right. He can hear Ringo's music a bit louder now.

"Better get everything ready, before he starts crying." Easy jokes and puts up some balloons. Elli helps him with that, while Paco and Tobias try to decorate the table. The others will come later to celebrate Ringo's Birthday.

It only takes them twenty minutes, before the kitchen actually looks good enough in Ringo's opinion. He tells them to get the others and then walks up the stairs to Ringo's room. The music is still on, but when Easy leans against the door, he can hear something else.

He knocks on the door, but nothing happens. Normally Ringo would jump directly outside, because he hates it when people come into his room. Besides Easy of course.

"Babe?" Easy says, when he knocks again. Now he can hear how Ringo gets up. The music cuts suddenly off and he can hear that something crashes to the ground.

Easy can't wait anymore, when he hears that, so he opens the door and freezes.

In the middle of the room is Ringo's favorite mug, but it's broken and there is now some coffee on the carpet. But that is not the reason Easy is suddenly out of breath. It's Ringo.

His boyfriend is always styled, but right now he wears some sweatpants Easy never saw before and he would've never thought Ringo had something like that. Not even in a hidden drawer. Ringo's red shirt distracts him for a moment too, but then he sees Ringo's eyes.

As red as his shirt.

"Babe?" Easy tries again and Ringo looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey Easy." Ringo tries to smile, but Easy sees how his underlip wobbles. A clear sign, that he is nearly crying again. Easy comes closer and carefully takes Ringo's right hand into his own, before he looks up again. Ringo avoids his gaze.

"What's wrong?" Easy asks and he is really worried. He checks Ringo's hands for injuries, because of the mug, but can't see anything.

"N-nothing?" Ringo tries again and Easy rolls his eyes. If something is important to Ringo he can't lie at all. Easy wishes he would've understand that earlier.

"Yeah right, then why are you upset?" Easy asks and he already has a assumption. He carefully get on his tiptoes and kisses Ringo's warm cheek.

"I'm not." Ringo mumbles and Easy takes a few steps back. He left his backpack at the door, when he heard the crash in Ringo's room. But now Easy can't wait to give Ringo his first present.

"I'm sorry that I had to work today. But I got a present for you." Easy says and he smiles happily, when he gets the neatly wrapped present out of his backpack. It's small, but Ringo seems speechless anyway.

"For me?" Ringo asks and he sounds so surprised, that it breaks Easy's heart. He smiles at Ringo anyway and nods, before he pushes the present in Ringo's hands. Ringo opens it carefully, but Easy can see that his finger shake.

Shouldn't it be normal to open presents on his birthday?

Ringo gasps very quietly, when he finally opened and holds the simple necklace in his hands. It's nothing too expensive, but Easy thought of Ringo when he saw it.

"Happy Birthday, Richard." Easy whispers and

Ringo looks up now and to Easy's shock, he starts crying immediately. Easy is so surprised, that he doesn't do anything, he just stares at Ringo.

"Y-you remembered!" Ringo says and then he sniffles loudly. Easy's heart breaks again and he goes over to his boyfriend. Ringo really thought he had forgotten him.

Easy wanted to do this as a happy surprise, but he actually hurt Ringo.

"I'm sorry, Ringo. Of course I didn't forget it! That was just part of the plan." Easy tries to explain, but Ringo is now leaning against him and presses his face against Easy's shoulder.

"T-thank you." Ringo cries against Easy's shirt and Easy strokes Ringo's back. He feels like a real asshole now. What was he thinking? Of course it would make Ringo sad to be alone on his birthday.

"Don't thank me. I kinda ruined your birthday." Easy says and he hugs Ringo even tighter. Ringo sniffles again, but then steps back and smiles through he tears. Easy hates himself for it, but Ringo looks so beautiful when he cries.

"Help me with that?" Ringo asks and holds the necklace out. Easy smiles and then puts the necklace around Ringo's neck. It looks perfect and it's so long that Ringo can hide it under his shirt if he wants. It's just a simple silver ring.

"Perfect." Easy whispers, when he is done, but he isn't talking about the necklace. Ringo is perfect. Standing nervous like this in his room, in those old clothes and still red rimmed eyes.

"I love it." Ringo says quietly and goes over to the big mirror in his room, to watch himself. Easy grins.

"And I love you." Easy says and he can see the faint smile from Ringo.

"But Ringo? I'm really sorry. I should've never left you alone this morning and…" Easy starts, but Ringo shakes his head and comes back to him. This time Ringo puts his hands on Easy's hips.

"It's okay. I'm happy now." Ringo's smile is very shy and Easy can't help it. He needs to kiss Ringo right now and the best thing about it? He can actually do it.

So he does.

Ringo is smiling against Easy's lips and then deepens the kiss. Easy gasps and has to giggle a bit. God he loves to kiss Ringo, because his boyfriend goes so pliant in his arms. Ringo sighs happily and Easy carefully puts his hands in Ringo's hair. It's a mess anyway.

"Happy birthday." Easy whispers again, when he ends the kiss and Ringo smiles softly. It's a good look on him. He looks happy like this and Easy smiles back.

"I love you." Ringo says back and Easy laughs.

"Okay. Actually I was just here to pick you up, but you keep distracting me." Easy says then and Ringo lifts one eyebrow. Easy loves when he does that.

"For what?" Ringo asks and he sounds warily. Easy can't blame him for that.

"Well…since I ruined your birthday already, I'll explain. I don't want you to be sad again, but we do have a surprise party for you." Easy explains and Ringo's eyes widen with every word Easy says.

"A birthday party? For me? What did you pay them?" Ringo asks and to Easy's resentment he actually means that. As if Easy would pay their friends to celebrate Ringo.

"Nothing. I promise. They are here, because they want to." Easy says and Ringo looks still caught of guard, but he nods. Easy smiles and before he can say more, Ringo is already out of his door.

Oh eager. Alright. Easy runs after him and laughs.

"Don't you want to change?" He asks laughing and Ringo stops in his movements. But then he shakes his head and smiles even more. Easy smiles, too.

"I just want my presents." Ringo says and then goes down the stairs. Easy goes down the stairs after him and there are all their friends. Even the cake from Irene is ready and Ringo seems a bit overwhelmed.

"Happy Birthday!" Most of them yell and Ringo claps his hands over his mouth. His eyes water again, but Easy knows, those are happy tears.

Easy wipes his eyes, when he sees how Ringo reacts to seeing his twin sister Kira. Because it took Easy a lot to get her back, but he is so glad he did it. Even Tobias behaves and Ringo smiles so happy, that Easy feels like he did something good.

He is still sorry how the day started, though.

Hours later Ringo cuddles against his boyfriend and smiles. He never had such a wonderful birthday before.

"Babe?" Easy asks, when he draws circles on Ringo's back with his finger.

"Hm?" Ringo mutters back and Easy kisses his cheek.

"I'm still sorry for earlier. I didn't want to make you sad." Easy apologizes again and Ringo sits a bit up, so he can kiss his boyfriend.

"Well I'm sure you can make it up to me somehow." Ringo smirks and Easy throws a pillow at him.

Ringo smiles.

What a great birthday.

Don’t know if it’s okay to tag you guys in it. If not just say so and i delete it! x

@ringoflamingo @ringoxeasy @ringsyyyyyy

#ringsy #easy x ringo #ringo x easy #unter uns #ringo beckmann x easy winter #richard beckmann x ingo winter #eay winter x ringo beckmann #my writing

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morningsound15 · 7 years ago

Note

Can u do all the odd fic questions on that ask post for perdition? Or really any of ur other fics, I just like hearing abt this kind of stuff

FYI THIS IS VERY LONG I APOLOGIZE

I’m putting most of it under the cut because I don’t want to clog up all the dashes…

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

What a question. I’ve answered something similar to this, mainly the question: What was your inspiration in writing this fic? And I’ve been pretty open about that, generally. (If you’re interested, there are a few longer posts about that and some other insights into my thought process linked here: x x x x x x )

But essentially, I wrote this fic because at the time I was going through a sort of similar situation to Chloe. I was kind of seeing this girl who had a boyfriend… it’s a pretty long and complicated story that I won’t go into for privacy’s sake (both hers and mine). But it wasn’t my finest hour, and definitely not something I’m proud of. So anyway, things had just ended with this girl and I was trying to work through some feelings that I had about it (a lot of anger and confusion and a little heartbreak, mostly), and I was looking for a character/pairing to write this specific situation for, and Bechloe kind of just… came to me. Like it just fell into my lap. And it made more sense than anything else, and when I started writing it just… poured out of me. Like I wrote the first four chapters in a feverish two days where I basically couldn’t stop typing.

But I’ve gotten a lot of questions about why I chose to write the fic the way I did. The question I get most often is basically, why did I write the fic from Chloe’s POV exclusively? Especially during the early days of Perdition, before I wrote the Beca interlude chapter, I had a LOT of people who were practically begging me for Beca’s POV, for her side of the story, for some explanation as to WHY she was doing what she was doing. And I was really hesitant to do that, because I was hesitant to break from the fixed person, singular POV. And I want to explain why. I know I have before, but I want to do it again.

I wanted to write Perdition from exclusively Chloe’s POV because I wanted the story to really focus on her emotions and her involvement in the affair. I feel like so many cheating stories are from the POV of the cheater, or the person being cheated on, and rarely on the ramifications felt by the person who’s being cheated with. I wanted to explore that dynamic.

But I also really wanted to focus on Chloe as a person and as a character. I felt drawn to her as a character partly because we know so little about her in the movies. Beca is the main character, the audience’s established perspective, so we know a lot about her and how she thinks and operates. Because Chloe was basically a blank slate, I felt like I could dig deeper into her character and imagine a lot more backstory for her. I wanted to explore her as a character, and as a writer I felt like she really offered more opportunities than Beca.

I eventually wrote the Beca POV chapter because I really wanted to make sure that both Beca and Chloe were sympathetic characters. I wanted to emphasize the fact that Chloe was providing just one perspective of the affair, and because of that, she was somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I wanted to emphasize that there were two sides to every story, and just because we’ve only seen Chloe’s side of things doesn’t mean that she’s blameless or that she’s completely right and has done nothing wrong. Though I wanted to focus on her/explore her journey, I didn’t want readers to think of her as a faultless victim. (I was also getting a lot of comments criticizing Beca’s character for being heartless/cruel, and I didn’t think that that was the case. I thought their situation was messy and confusing and hard on both of them, and I didn’t want people to think I was using her as a scapegoat to just like… assassinate her character.)

In my mind, no character is perfect. There’s no such thing as a black-and-white situation. No one is inherently good or bad. They’re just people, who make good and bad choices, who make mistakes, who let things get out of hand. I really wanted to be clear on that. So I ended up breaking with my plan and writing the interlude chapter. I think, in the end, I’m glad that I did.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

Good Lord. This fic is so long… There are so many lines I like. How do I even pick?

I have a couple favorite lines of narration. These are just some of them (unsurprisingly, a lot of them are chapter summaries):

From Chapter 1:

(Earlier in the night Chloe stumbled over to Beca on swaying feet, grabbed her hands, and proclaimed that they were going to be “fast friends,” and Beca laughed and winked at her and made some joke about being naked and Chloe felt her stomach bottom out so suddenly that she wondered if she was tipping over backwards.)

From Chapter 4:

Fat Amy showing her vag to the leader of the Free World is not exactly how Chloe envisioned starting her year.

From Chapter 6:

But when she’s on that stage, performing for all those people… when she starts to sing that song, especially in the wake of their fight… something grips her. She feels this pull, this swell of romantic energy like she’s in the midst of a goddamn fairytale, and then she just…

Well, does she have any choice in the matter, really?

(He’s the acapella boy and she’s the acapella girl. This is their story.)

From Chapter 6:

She tries to say everything in that kiss that she’s never had the courage to say. I’ve missed you and I love you and I’m willing to try and I’m sorry and I don’t deserve you and Please just wait for me a little longer.

From Chapter 7:

The summer heat is oppressive in North Carolina. Thick air that feels like soup; slogging days of unendurable murky, foggy, wet waves. When it isn’t raining, the sun beats down against the tops of heads and the backs of necks, cooking cars and superheating pavement, scorching the flesh of bare feet that slap against the ground. The smell of freshly mown grass, new mulch, and — further towards to coast — salt spray permeates everything. Sun screen and bug spray make skin sticky; mosquitos flock from person to person in droves, only driven away by rare and brief breezes off the water. The air feels stagnant and heavy, the days endlessly long.

From Chapter 10:

Beca’s music has always so upbeat, so lively, so full of joy and energy and reckless abandon, all about pounding bass notes and soaring vocals, all about mixing together as many songs as possible until the artistry verges just on the hint of chaos.

From Chapter 11:

She bared herself to the entire world. She exposed every bit of her dirty laundry to millions and millions of people for them to look at, pick through, and analyze. She did the one thing she hates most in the world to prove to Chloe that she can, that she wants to, that she can be a new person, that she’s changed, that secrets and lies are all things in her past, and her future is an open book.

Of course. It’s for her. It’s always been for her.

From Chapter 12:

They’ve been together for a year, Chloe’s been living in LA for eight months, and for the past two months or so she’s taken up a near-permanent residence in Beca’s home. She already owns half of the shoe space, half of the space in the bathroom cabinet, and half of the drawers in Beca’s dresser. Her keys have a permanent spot by the door, her soy milk a permanent spot in Beca’s fridge. Her work schedule is stuck on the wall next to Beca’s calendar. Beca’s Netflix queue is full of Chloe’s favorite shows, Chloe’s favorite movies. All but Chloe’s least-favorite outfits have migrated to Beca’s closet, and all of the books she’s currently reading have found a place on Beca’s bedside table.

5: What part was hardest to write?

The hardest part to write were the years where Beca and Chloe didn’t talk. There were whole chapters that just dealt with Chloe and her depression, or Chloe and her inner monologue, or Chloe and her new life in Denver, or Chloe and her love life sans Beca. And those chapters were hard to write. I was really worried they would be boring, or that they would turn off readers, or that people wouldn’t respond well to Chloe dating other people, or that people wouldn’t like the inclusion of original characters, or that people would get annoyed with how they dragged on, or that people would object to the distinct lack of Beca for so much of the story.

But I really felt those chapters were necessary, because I really felt that Chloe had to learn for herself and grow and get better on her own before she and Beca could reconcile. I believed that, in order for Beca and Chloe to truly be together in a healthy way, they had to become healthy on their own. They couldn’t just be together because they fell together, but because they chose to be together. I wanted them to fight for each other, to realize that they weren’t using each other as an emotional crutch or a way to avoid dealing with the problems in their lives, but to realize that they actually helped each other, that each made the other stronger. So despite the fact that those chapters were really hard to write, I’m really glad that I did write them.

7: Where did the title come from?

This may be embarrassing to admit, but I actually have an entire document just of fic titles/small little ideas/summaries/exchanges of dialogue. So the title Perdition had been sitting around in my mind for a while, way before I even got the idea for the story. I was just waiting for the perfect fic to use it on. (I’m kinda obsessed with pretentious titles, if you guys haven’t noticed.)

As I explained in the summary for the story, “perdition” is a word that comes from Christian theology, and it means: “a state of eternal punishment and damnation into which a sinful and unpenitent person passes after death.” And I liked that; this idea that both Beca and Chloe understood that what they were doing was entirely wrong and unjust and, if you subscribe to that sort of belief system, “sinful”, but that neither of them really cared. They continued on with their affair with (seemingly) unrepentant, reckless abandon. I thought it summed up the themes of the story nicely. The beginning of the story, at least. The set up for the dramatic arc.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

While I knew how the fic was going to end when I started writing it (generally, at least, I knew that Beca and Chloe were going to end up together, and the Grammys acceptance speech was actually like the 5th scene I wrote), it still went through a lot of different drafts. In an early version of the story, Jesse was the one to walk in on Beca and Chloe mid-sexual encounter, but I ended up really hating what the scene said and how it treated Jesse as a character (and the fact that it took away Beca’s agency by denying her the chance to confess), so I got rid of that quickly.

Originally, Emily played a much smaller role in the story. But I liked her as a naïve sort of foil to Beca + Chloe; I liked her optimism and her almost-hero-worship of the two of them; and I liked being able to build a mentor-mentee relationship between Beca and Emily. So she ended up playing a bigger role in the story than originally intended.

In the original draft of the story, there were much fewer chapters. I think originally I only planned on having 6 (4 years of Beca + Chloe’s affair, 1 year apart, and then the chapter where they get back together), but I’ve never been very good at keeping my writing succinct. It just kept growing and growing and by the end I doubled the chapter count. But it felt right to me. All of the additions felt necessary. In the end, I don’t mind the length, because I told the story I wanted to tell.

Raquel was also a pretty late addition to the fic. I toyed a lot with the idea of having Chloe only go on a few unfulfilling dates with men during her time apart from Beca, because a part of me liked the idea of having Beca be her only female long-term romantic partner. But then it felt like I was trying to erase the bisexuality I had established for Chloe early on, so I wrote her a girlfriend. And then I ended up REALLY liking Raquel, so I gave her more and more to do, and I made their relationship stronger and stronger.

Originally, I wanted Chloe to be dating someone when she started having romantic feelings for Beca again, and then realize that she’d only ever really loved Beca etc. etc. etc., but in the end I didn’t like what that did to the story. It felt too much like the beginning, like Chloe hadn’t grown enough as a character. And besides, that’s just not realistic. Very few people have like… ONE true love. And in the end, I wanted Beca and Chloe to choose to be together, like I said. I wanted to have the possibility for other partners, the possibility for happiness elsewhere, and then have them decide to be together anyway. Because they wanted to, because that’s what felt right. So I felt like it was really important to build up their friendship again from the ground up. They couldn’t just leap into romance again after so long and after everything they went through. They needed a strong foundation first. And to have Beca see Chloe happy in a relationship, happy without her… I thought it was important for them to both know that it was possible.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

There are a LOT of things I like about this fic. I like its perspective, I like what it says. I like that it’s almost entirely from Chloe’s POV. I like that it’s a character study more than anything (which is something I’d never previously done). I like that it’s really long (and that I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT which didn’t seem likely for a while). I like that it takes its time, that it really builds to a natural conclusion, that it doesn’t feel rushed or hurried, that there’s a payoff that feels earned. I like all of that stuff.

But what I like most is the impact it’s had. I have gotten such extraordinary feedback from this story, things you guys wouldn’t believe. Not just comments and asks, but individual messages from people who have reached out to me and told me what reading Perdition meant to them. And that’s… I never expected that. It was just supposed to be a sexy little romp, something for me to work out my own feelings and practice writing some smut, and then it turned into this… behemoth of a story that SO many people read and responded to. And I never really anticipated that. But I’m SO glad that I wrote it. And I’m so glad so many of you liked it.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

People have asked me this question a lot! And I definitely did have a Perdition playlist or two going while I was writing it. It’s funny to look back on that music now, because it’s from like over a year ago and I don’t listen to those playlists often anymore, but I’ll link them below if people are interested:

https://morningsound15.tumblr.com/tagged/perdition-playlist

(tagged/perdition-playlist)

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

What a question. And a hard one to answer. I think anytime with writing, you end up learning a lot. About yourself, about your characters, about your own personal style. I do believe that writing this story really made my overall writing stronger. The fact that I was able to finish it and give people the ending they wanted was also huge for me, since most of my other really long stories are still unfinished.

I’m not 100% sure what I learned from writing this. I think I’m still learning. Every time I go back and reread it (and I did go back and reread most of it to answer these questions) I feel like I draw something new from the story. And every time I answer questions about it I feel like I understand my writing in ways I never have before.

#anonymous #asks #perdition #questions #long post

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kdenbibi · 7 years ago

Text

Endless Chapter 6

Warnings: none

Authors note: holy shit ya girl updated, yes its currently 2 in the morning and I have work tmo but do I give a damn? No Anyway I really hope you guys enjoy thank y’all so so so much for being as patient as you are I can’t tell you hoe much I appreciate it, anyway lemme shut up, it’s been a while since I've done this and I forgot if people actually wanted to be tagged in it anyway hmu if you do ilysm feedback is always appreciated -Admin A

It was one of those mornings where you wake up a minute before your alarm goes off and sleep is pulled from you forever.

Okay I'm being dramatic but who can blame me, it's so early the sky was still dark, not even the birds were up yet. Thankfully, due to being a human punching bag the last few weeks the sharp pain shooting up my feet from the freezing floor did nothing more than wake me up. I felt like a zombie as I shuffled my way towards the expansive kitchen of the base, I could still easily get lost in the place, thankfully I knew exactly where the essential spots were, like the kitchen, the training room for our daily sessions, the little rooms I could hide in to avoid said sessions, all in all I had a system.

I sat on the countertop staring blankly at the fridge, my brain still in the process of waking itself up. I took the rare moment of silence to break down all that had lead me to this moment.

I remember telling Jon, at his request, everything that went down with Nightwing in detail. He went to my house that day, after school we decided it was high time to come clean with each other about our powers.

The sun had made another rare appearance but did nothing about the bitter winter air nipping at any exposed skin, we walked fast, I wanted to get out of our uncomfortable uniforms and into my Superman PJs my mother gifted me ironically after I told her about my childish crush, if you say Superman isn't even the least bit attractive you're straight lying to yourself.

When we finally got in I wasn't surprised to see my the apartment was empty, minus cheezers our pesky cat who sprawled himself out on Jon's lap as soon as he sat down.

"Want anything to drink?" I yelled over my shoulder from the kitchen, I rummaged through our refrigerator waiting for his response. "No thank you!" He chimed in from my couch, his voice was always light, I’d noticed, it carried through the air like a breeze.

I came back in the room with a can of coke for myself tucked under my arm and two half eaten bags of chips squished in my hands, I plopped in the recliner adjacent to him, not before ungracefully tossing the junk food in his lap of course, and sat back with a sigh.

He stared at me with those ridiculously pretty eyes, a nervous expression on his face as he waited for me to speak, his fingers were running through cheezers fur absentmindedly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to?" I offered after taking in his expression.

"No no!- I want to tell you I do, I'm just not sure how you'll take it." I shook my head at the taller boy, popping a chip in my mouth. "You don't gotta trip chocolate chip- I don't think there’s anything you could say that would change how I see you, powers or not your still my Ramen buddy." I finished with a wink. His nervous smile broke into a real one. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, then closed it.

He did this a few more times before I stopped him.

"How bout' I go first?" He nodded releasing a breath.

"Well, it started when I was younger, I can't pinpoint exactly where I got them, I just realized after a while the string of luck I had wasn't just luck, it was something else entirely, something watching my back at every turn."

He nodded along, an unusually serious expression gracing his soft features."For awhile it was just that, a helping hand that lead me out of sticky situations," I shook my head taking a long drink of my soda. "Up until that night on the roof that is." He nodded once more, his fingers rhythmically tapping along his knee.

"What do you think triggered it?" He asked sounding more stern than I'd ever heard, I eyed him before shrugging off his strange behavior. "I'm not sure really, I think its because I was scared, I mean any other time the light has come out hasn't been in a situation where I felt that unsafe." I laughed thinking of the boy wonders face as he flew across the roof. "And then at the bank well, you were there." He leaned back against my couch, cheezers lifted his head to stare at the boy in displeasure before laying back down.

"You're mom isn't a meta?"

"Not that I know of- as long as we're not counting her inexplicable ability to know when you're lying, although that may just be a 'her' thing." He shot me a smile, but a second later his face returned to it's neutral state, his head turned slightly as if he heard something he didn't like. "So it must come from your father- I think." He offered, I gave him a half smile, my nails tapping against the smooth metal of the now nearly empty can.

"I wouldn't know." His baby blues widened. "(Y/n) I'm Sorry-I didn't know.."

"Oh it's okay! He peaced out before I could really know him, so I got lucky." His face remained uncomfortable, as if he was guilty for asking, so I reassured him. "Really I've made my peace with it, after all, can't really miss someone who was never there." Jon nodded before abruptly standing.

"I uh, I need to go to the restroom!" He said, I cocked a brow at my friend's outburst before motioning in the direction of the bathroom, I chocked it up to him simply being nervous about telling me, I walked over to the recently disturbed cat and placed him in my lap. His big brown eyes stared back at me as I scratched behind his ears. "Is it me or is that farm boy acting all kinds of weird?" The animal simply blinked before resting his little head on my arm. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say."

Jon's POV

I practically ran to the bathroom, turning on the water to try and hide all the noise I could. I quickly yanked out the expensive and inconspicuous flag ‘pin’ Damain had given me, I brought the tiny microphone to my mouth knowing he could hear me. "Was that good enough?" I couldn't hide my irritation with the young Wayne, he had me spying on my best friend, her personal story she trusted me enough to share was just information for the kid to put in his computer, it made my chest sink, I felt like garbage.

"Yes, although I wouldn't be surprised if she caught on, your acting skills are awful." I could hear the smirk in his voice, the earpiece he'd given me to hear the questions he wanted to ask felt even more uncomfortable than before. "Excuse me if I'm not good at lying!"

"You aren't lying to anyone, I simply was apart of the conversation, besides, you're one step closer to being ready for the team."

I felt stared at my reflection conflicted.

I knew what I did wasn't necessarily lying but it still felt wrong, like I'd used her trust for something bad. On the other hand this opportunity- this team they were building, it was my chance to finally step outside the huge S shaped shadow my father cast- I could become a hero all of my own.

Yes, I was conflicted, and Damian's smug voice in my ear wasn't helping anything.

"-kent? Are you even listening to me?" He spoke, voice rising in impatience. "Honestly no, now do you have what you need?" There was a moment of silence on Damian's end, the sound of tapping on a keyboard could faintly be heard before he finally responded.

"Yes but-"

"Good." I yanked the earpiece out of my head and crushed it, along with the microphone, between my fingers. I have no doubt in my mind I'd just destroyed a thousand dollars worth of equipment but that was the least of my worries, the guilt was still there, but it seemed to wash down the drain with the remains of the machine. With a deep breath I made my way back out in the living room, (Y/n) sat there, doing absolutely nothing but still looking like someone from a movie, her head snapped up as she noticed my presence. "You okay there Jonny boy?" I smiled at her nickname, taking my previous spot on the couch now much more relaxed. "Yep! Just needed a moment but now I'm ready." Her pretty brown eyes stared at me unsure. "You don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, I understand-"

"No! I'm okay really! I promise." Finally that smile returned to her face as she nodded, gesturing me to continue when I was ready."I'm Kryptonian! Well half Kryptonian anyway!"

(Y/n)'s POV

I stared at the bright grin etched into his face, an uneasy smile on mine as his words bounced around my skull.

Because if he was Kryptonian that meant-

Wait-

"Your dad is- you oh, oh okay that's um oh man am I allowed to know this? Is this legal? Oh, oh man, oh jeez." He suddenly rose from his seat and made his way over to me, a wide smile on his face. "Relax, (y/n), trust me okay? Everything's alright." I laughed rubbing my temples in the process. "Okay okay, so um, wow this is-" the blood drained from my face as I realized our previous conversations- the late night, sugar high induced conversations where I openly gushed over how fine Metropolis's space savior was.

"You let me sit there and talk about how hot your dad is?! To your face?! Jonathan Samuel Kent we are fighting- not really cuz’ you'd probably mop the floor with me but yes! Definitely fighting!"

We spent that afternoon talking about everything, good and bad. He told me he was scared he'd never fill the shoes of his father, I told him I was afraid I'd never understand what I could do, it wasn't until later that evening when my mom came home from work did we realize how long we'd been talking, she offered him a ride home but he just smiled and politely declined.

I was brought back to reality by the helpful AI program we knew as Athena spoke to me, her automated voice calmly called out from one of the many speakers littered around the base. "Miss (Y/n), the time is approximately 5:34 AM, would you like me to initiate your 'get ready playlist?" I looked around the empty room, still not used to having to talk to someone without a body. "Uh no thanks Athena, I don't wanna wake anyone else up." I spoke in a whisper afraid to disturb my teammates sleep. "Robin is currently in the gym, would you like me to alert him of your presence?"

"Oh absolutely not, no thanks A."

"Okay miss (Y/n), if you need anything don't hesitate to call me." I gave her a friendly wave off as I made my way towards my room, unsatisfied with what I found in the refrigerator.

It still felt pretty unfamiliar living somewhere without my mom, not waking up with her music blasting throughout the walls was a very foreign concept to me. Few weeks back, when Nightwing first came to my house to lay out the ground rules of what exactly was gonna go down, my mother was less than thrilled.

"So you want my daughter to move into some secret location? Not only that, but live with a bunch of other teenagers with incredible abilities and just you to supervise them?" Dick shot her a smile bright enough to blind someone if they looked directly at it.

"Misses (L/n), I get why you'd be concerned I really do, but this is all for the benefit of these kids, besides she almost an adult." He paused at the glare my mother gave him. "-but, but, yes, I would be there to supervise the team, not just me though, other hero's will come in to help train them." My mother was silent as she processed his words, she glanced at my face, taking in my hopeful expression before sighing.

"...If I say yes, I get to know where this facility is right? Just in case I need to go down there and whip some sense into somebody."

"Absolutely! And if it makes you feel better Jon's gonna be there with her." At this my mother visibly relaxed, I knew she trusted Jon so before this impromptu meeting I made sure to let Dick know about it, just in case she needed some extra convincing. "Well, I guess I can't say no, especially with her giving me those damn puppy eyes."

This time I brought myself back to reality, when I came to just in time to realize my feet had taken me somewhere that wasn't my room, to the training gym. I paused wondering why on Earth I walked there only to be met with quite the sight.

Robin, beating a training dummy like it personally hurt him, I still had yet to find out his identity, no one had actually, so no it wasn't a surprise to see his iconic mask adorning his face. He thought it was best if everyone remained anonymous, something about secret identities - but full disclosure at the time, I wasn't paying attention, I was too busy trying not to stare at the green kid a few feet away from me, i shit you not he was green, like head to toe green- that and I couldn't agree, mainly because I didn't even have a super persona yet, so when it was brought up I laughed and told the other members my name. "If you were smart you'd keep some form of anonymity, at least until we can trust each other." Robin scolded, The other four people in the room stayed silent, and I couldn't help but scoff. "You expect us to trust you when you're gonna have that mask on 24/7?" His glare turned to me, I tried not to flinch. "If you want to expose yourself fine, but I refuse to be apart of it." And with that he walked off leaving the rest of us in an awkward silence.

"Well, he's just a bundle of joy now isn't he?" I said watching his retreating figure, Jesus the kid even walked like he was pissed off.

"Real life of the party." The tall boy to my right spoke, he left quite the impression too, being that he looked like a blue iron Man, ya know suit of badass armor kinda guy. He was introduced as the blue beetle. I looked at him with a smile, relieved the rest of the team wasn't as stuck up as the bird boy.

"I can't imagine you'd wanna wear that the entire time either."

This earned a laugh from beetle, and much to my surprise, instead of taking off a helmet it seemed to disappear, a light flash of blue with it as his face was reviled. "I'm Jaime Reyes, nice to meet you." I grabbed his hand with a wide smile. "(Y/n) (L/n), I'm sure you hear this all the time- but holy shit that's cool." He laughed again, this time the sound was clear, no longer blocked by, well whatever was on his face moments ago. It was nice, the kinda laugh that made you want to join in.

"If we're really saying fuck it to Grumpy's rules I'm Garfield Logan." The green boy spoke from behind me. I shot him a smile, he returned a smirk, his sharp canines peaking though the half smile. The only other girl in the room remained silent, weighing her options before she quietly spoke up."Rachel." Was all she spoke. I gave her my friendliest smile before walking over. "It's nice to meet you, I'm so glad there's another girl here." She met my eyes, a hesitant smile on her face as she agreed. "It is...nice, thanks for thinking so." Her voice was level as she spoke, I almost couldn't hear her over the two loud boys now chattering like they were best friends.

I turned away from the shy girl to look for my friend. Noticing his unsure stare I walked over to him, away from everyone else.

"Yo, you okay over there farm boy?" Jon looked up from the floor, his eyes uncharacteristically troubled. "I'm fine!- just a bit, I don't know nervous? All of you guys are so great I mean, I guess I'm just scared I won't be able to keep up." I stared at the large 'S' on his chest, looking for the right thing to say.

"Umm?? Have you met yourself, are we talking about the same Jon Kent? We'll have to be worried about keeping up with you if anything." He gave me a bashful smile, looking down at the symbol on his chest then back to me.

"Don't give up before you've even started you dork." I said patting his shoulder and motioning for him to join the conversation, which he happily did after a small nudge.

That was weeks ago, Robin still, with his stubborn ass, kept that mask on. I wish I could say things were okay between me and the stern boy but they weren't, I get the feeling he wasn't too pleased to be here.

Whenever we would train, Dick was there to supervise, and since Robin was the most experienced out of all of us, he was in charge for most of the training- scratch that, it's more like the royal ass kicking he dished out.

I got the feeling he didn't like me very much, mainly because of the whole, almost throwing him off a roof thing, but the feeling was mutual. He just, he rubbed me the wrong way, like he genuinely believed he was above everyone else and no one could match him in anything. Not to mention the way he had to comment whenever I'd fail.

"You're stance is terrible, you're just asking to die."

"Do you enjoy your face meeting the mat (L/n)? Because you seem to do that every time we're in here."

He was just one of those people you had to try not to throw out of the nearest window whenever he opened his mouth.

"If this is your attempt at stealth you're fired."

I rolled my eyes dispite him facing the other way and walked into the gym room. "If I wanted to sneak up on you I could, don't get it twisted boy wonder." I knew I was bullshitting, he knew I was, but there was no way I was backing down from a fight with this asshole. He turned, wiping some sweat from his brow with a small towel, I could feel the squint get gave me through the rubber mask. "Why are you here?" I shrugged making my way to the closest bench and taking a loud seat. "For your information- I wanted to get an early start with my training." "Really?" He questioned leaning against the silicone dummy.

"Yes."

"In that?"

I looked down to my PJs and gave him a shrug. "I could be in a fursuit and I'd still kick your ass." His face scrunched up in confusion before he scoffed."I have no idea what that is but don’t make me laugh, you'd be lucky to get me on the ground for a second." He turned back towards the dummy before sending a swift kick to it's neck, I flinched from the loud smack that echoed across the walls.

Confidently, he spoke again, without even turning back.

"You got lucky once- never again."

The way he said that would have sent shivers down my back, had I not been raised a bad bitch, but alas, I was.

I quickly stood marching over to the male. "Okay let's go-"

My back hit the mat, the air from my lungs escaping with the force I was smacked against the floor. His smug face leaned over me. "What was that you were saying? I don't think I heard you (L/n)." I groaned before throwing myself up, glaring at the figure before me. "That was just the practice round-" his hand shot forward to, I assume toss me like a rag-doll again, but this time I was ready, I grabbed his wrist, stopping it mid swing and a force of golden light pushed us apart. He smirked from across the mat. "Without your powers you're as defenseless as a baby- you need to learn not to rely on them." I bit back my retort about his hairline being as defenseless as a baby because 1. It didn't make sense- I was just mad and 2. The son of a bitch had a point.

So I sucked up my pride and rolled my shoulders, cracking my neck with a satisfying 'pop'.

I gestured him to come forward with my hand.

"Then teach me."

#endless #Damian Wayne #older!damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #dc #dc imagine #Jon Kent #older!jon kent #jon kent x reader #poc imagines #poc reader insert #poc reader #Jaime Reyes #jaime reyes imagine #garfield logan #rachel roth #beast boy #raven

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