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wtf-yoongi · 4 years

Text

Let me drive. / JJK

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | road trip + california + your koo 🥺

genre/warnings | fluff + light smut + established relationship + kinda shy/quiet jungkook

words | 3,522

note | okay so i had this idea almost a year ago and wrote around 5 versions of this since then lol i guess the stuff i write is *already* very chill but i have to say this is the chillest

If you could, you’d freeze this moment. This very moment. Right here, right now. Just as the wind blows on your hair, just as everything around you smells like sand and the sea, just as Jungkook’s smooth driving lulls you to sleep.

You look at him then. Focused on the curves of the road, a small crease in between his eyebrows as he is forced to make a particularly sharp turn. You twist again to look outside the half-opened window and all you can see are the waves coming and going, somehow closer when the car shifts — and it calms you even further.

It’s hard to fight the heaviness of your eyelids, but you’re determined not to miss any second of this. Everything looks perfect, all around you — you can’t take it for granted. You should cherish it, imprint this in your memory, take pictures with Jungkook’s camera now that he’s busy driving and can’t do it himself. It’s within arm’s reach, but you can’t find it in you to grab it.

“You should take a nap,” Jungkook says with an unusual air in his voice. It is deep, but dreamy, and you wonder if you’ve actually fallen asleep. His right hand leaves the steering wheel to lightly touch your thigh. “You didn’t have enough sleep last night.”

“You’ve had just as much as me,” you protest, turning your body to seat properly again and blinking a few times to wake up, eyes opening as wide as possible in between each of them. “Do you think we can stop for a coffee somewhere? I bet you need it too.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s what you always say.”

You end up convincing Jungkook you should stop somewhere, even if that somewhere is the nearest underwhelming gas station. He takes the opportunity to fill up the tank, later going inside to join you and look for the most appetizing caffeinated drink. It’s not his favorite, and neither is the one in your hands, but it’ll do for now. You take the can out of his long fingers to pay before he has a chance to protest.

“How far away are we now?”

Jungkook’s head tilts as he follows you outside, eyes wrinkling while his brain tries to remember what the GPS said before. “Not much, really. Maybe a little bit over half an hour.”

“Let me drive, then.”

He throws you the keys without thinking twice, but mostly because you know Jungkook wants to take pictures of the road — he’s never been good at hiding things and, with you in particular, there’s no point in trying anymore. He’s been driving since you left this morning and you wonder if you should’ve taken over after Pismo Beach.

Maybe you should have. He looks perfectly content as he sits on the passenger’s side and reaches for the camera not a heartbeat after putting on his seatbelt. That’s when you know you should’ve said something earlier — he’s not going to ask you to drive if he can keep going. It’s the way Jungkook’s mind works: selfless all the time.

That thought melts as soon as you look to your right and he’s pointing the camera at you, bright smile only partially covered by the device in his hands as you hear the shutter. For a second, all you can see is him. Suddenly, all you care about in the world is how you can make that smile last longer.

Is it too greedy to want it forever?

The rest of the way to Santa Barbara goes as smoothly as possible. Jungkook is right — it does take a little bit over half an hour to get there and you’re glad it’s early enough for you to explore the city tonight. As you cross what seems to be the main road, filled with life, shops and pretty lights, you and Jungkook make a silent agreement to come back as soon as you drop the bags in the house you’re staying in.

To be honest, Jungkook was excessive when he chose the place. He said he wanted it to be close to the beach, with a pool he could swim in at two in the morning if he wanted to — oh, yes, and private. He repeated that at least three times while you were researching. In the end, the house isn’t as close to the beach as he wished it to be, but he agreed the pool was worth it.

When you land your eyes on it for the first time, you’re sure Jungkook made the right call.

There’s a host there to welcome you and you follow Mrs. Johnson around as she shows you all the little corners of the house. She is surprised to know only two guests are staying when the house could easily fit six, but nods with a warm smile when you mention the pool situation and the way Jungkook’s eyes lighted up when he saw the pictures. You also can’t miss the way he tries to hide himself behind you when you say that or the hand that travels down to your waist. You couldn’t see him, but you bet a thousand dollars a shy smile is in full display — dimples and all.

It only takes a few minutes for you to drag your bags inside, drink a cup of water and leave again. The house isn’t very far from the main road you’ve seen earlier and a walk after a few hours of sitting inside a car sounded like a great idea. Just before leaving, you playfully pull Jungkook’s bucket hat further down as he sits his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Then, again, you wish you could freeze the moment, but only if you could attach an audio file with his giggle and that playful stop it with it.

There’s a comfortable warmth from all around you as you walk. The breeze is hot and, although the temperature is bearable, Jungkook’s hand in yours becomes clammy in under five minutes — not that it is enough reason to let it go, it’s just not the most comfortable and definitely not as pleasant as the feeling of his hands intertwined with yours midwinter.

You can tell Jungkook is excited. His feet are light on the scolding asphalt and he’s paying extra attention to every detail his doe-like eyes are able to reach — almost as if he’s also looking to imprint this moment in his brain. In fact, he could be getting help with that by taking pictures, but decides to leave the camera hanging by its strap on his waist for reasons you don’t quite understand. You also don’t ask, too happy to raise questions about anything.

There’s something about this city that makes you feel welcomed. It’s much like the charming towns you’ve visited along the coast ever since leaving the busy San Francisco a couple of days ago, but there’s something particularly special about it. You were expecting it to be filled with tourists enjoying their summer day, streets buzzing with cars and no available parking spots whatsoever only to be met by a steady rhythm of people walking, chatting and passing you by without a second glance. It’s less busy and more easygoing than you anticipated.

Jungkook also seems to notice that.

“I like it here,” he says, echoing your thoughts with ease. Jungkook’s head turns all around, taking it all in before landing his curious eyes on you. “I think this one is my favorite so far.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your nose. “You’ve said that for every place we’ve been to.”

“Well, every place has been better than the last. What do you want me to say?”

Just as the words leave his lips, the elegant lamps lining the sidewalk come to life. You notice you’re not the only ones with chins up and surprised eyes — suddenly, you can point to every tourist standing within this block as locals move on with their lives as if nothing happened.

“Honestly, how can this not be my favorite so far?” Jungkook asks rhetorically, finally letting go of your hand to reach for his camera. He turns it on without even looking at the device, snapping picture after picture until he’s satisfied with the framing and lighting. “These lights are so pretty…” He comments as he checks his viewfinder. “Let me take one of you just standing there.”

He takes a few steps back to fit you in frame and you hear the shutter many times before he’s back by your side.

“Why don’t we get something to eat?” He suggests, quick to take your hand again as soon as the camera is back to its original place.

“That’d be nice. Craving anything in particular?”

“Food,” he answers simply and with a smile. “Anything you want.”

You end up inside a diner eight minutes from where you were. The reviews online were great and you can see the place is popular by the amount of people sitting when it’s still so early in the night. The sun hasn’t completely set, but you can already feel the temperature drop a little — not too much, you think, to forgo the pool later.

Jungkook eats like he’s been starving the whole day. One entrée isn’t enough for him, so he orders two and you feel like you should save some room for the burger coming in later. His fingers are greasy from all the fried chicken, so are his lips, and you can’t help but smiling fondly at him when he looks up from the bone he just sucked on.

Right then, you wonder how in the world you ended up with him on the other side of the planet — the odds were never in your favor, but everything worked out somehow.

Ending up on the other side of the planet was the easy part.

The walk back to the house seems longer. Maybe it’s the weight of all the food in your stomach, maybe you’re finally feeling the need to rest after another busy day driving and seeing new places — maybe it’s both. Jungkook seems to feel it too, lazily swaying your connected (thoroughly cleaned) hands, dragging his feet and showing signs of running low on energy. For a moment, you think it’s possible he forgets about the pool and decides to just go to bed.

However tired, his eyes light up when he sees the pool area like it’s the first time and you have to admit it looks incredible. The water is so still it doesn’t look real and small decorative lamps illuminate it all around, creating a peaceful and inviting atmosphere. You can see how spent Jungkook is by the way his shoulders seem to be leaning forward a bit, but, still, he’s taking off his shirt and mumbling something about changing into a different pair of shorts.

Maybe he’s right. A quick dip in the water might just be the thing to relax your body and prepare it for the best sleep of your life.

Jungkook is already in the water when you come back in a bikini — with his back pressed to the pool, head resting on the edge and hair a wet mess. His eyes may be barely open, but he still sees you and raises a lazy hand out of the water to invite you in.

“It’s surprisingly not cold,” he assures you, a comforting smile on his lips. “Also, it’s not as deep, I’m just not really standing properly.”

A giggle leaves your lips as you move to sit on the edge right next to where he is, carefully letting a foot in to surprisingly — as Jungkook said — not immediately remove it because it’s too cold. You just wanted to sit there for a while getting used to the temperature before committing to a full dip, but he’s not having it.

“Come on,” Jungkook whines a little, clinging onto one of your legs. “We don’t have much time before I fall asleep in the water and drown.” He snorts and you can’t help falling for his shy smile. “I want to hold you in the water while we look at the stars together.”

“We can do that tomorrow if you want,” you suggest, trying not to let his words melt you completely while you move to fix a wet strand of hair in front of his eyes. “We’re staying here for one more night.”

However, in true Jungkook fashion, he doesn’t give up. “But I want it right now.”

And, in true you fashion, you give in to him.

The next morning, you wake up with a heavy and warm arm on top of your frame. The heat from Jungkook’s body on your back becomes too much as the hours pass and the room gets hit by an increasingly hotter sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your brain can’t get your limbs to move away from him without regaining consciousness.

It’s past 9 in the morning by the time you stretch an arm towards your phone. Groaning, you try reaching out for the air conditioner remote, but it’s maybe an inch too far. Before you can wiggle out of his grasp, though, you hear a low objection, grunt muffled by your own hair and skin.

Softly, you mutter a few words. “Just a second, Guk, I really need to get that.”

Subconsciously or not, Jungkook eases the grip he has around your middle and you’re finally able to hold the remote in your hands, lowering the temperature and increasing the speed. After the few beeps, a minute passes and you’re taking a deep breath, happy to feel the cool air around your limbs.

“You’re shivering now,” he says, surprising you after a long and comfortable silence. Blindly, he feels around for the white sheets, fixing them on your torso all the way to your chin.

“I’m not shivering,” you assure him, uncovering an arm in a stubborn act. “I have a t-shirt on, it’s fine.”

He hums. “I’ll have you out of that in around thirty minutes. Don’t count on it too much.”

You smile, turning to him, but Jungkook still has his eyes closed. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I told you: thirty minutes. Don’t rush, we’re on vacation,” he justifies himself, words lazy just like the smirk that appears on his lips. “Let me wake up properly.”

True to his words, you both rest for a little while before Jungkook starts making his move. You would’ve guessed he had fallen back to sleep from how steadily he was breathing just a few seconds ago, but you couldn’t have been more wrong — not when his lips are connected to the column of your throat and you begin to feel the weight of his body on your left side.

Suddenly, your whole world is surrounded by him. All you can feel, see and smell is made of Jungkook, from his hair tickling your face to the firm hand wandering around like it’s discovering your body for the first time. You sigh and moan a little when he marks you particularly hard or when his right hand moves to place your leg around his waist and you just know he’s satisfied. Jungkook lives for that, for knowing he does that to you.

There’s a light and soft laugh coming out of his lips before he turns to the other side of your neck, head stopping midway to plant a chaste and quiet kiss on your lips.

“Promise me we’ll stay inside the whole day.” He’s just slightly out of breath, a feat that doesn’t go unnoticed by you — not after he’s taken care of your left side like that. He’s always so dedicated. “I really don’t want to get out of the house.”

“If you don’t want to.” The words would be perfectly accompanied by a shrug, but his body weight doesn’t let you. It’s just the right amount of pressure to feel him everywhere and, if you paid enough attention, you’d be able to sense his quick heartbeats too. “Yeah, we can stay in.”

“Good.”

You can see his eyes sparkle before he’s too close to focus, head dipping in to take your lips again. This time, however, the kiss is far from pure, delicately but firmly moving to open up your mouth and work restlessly until you’re completely out of breath.

You don’t know exactly when he starts slowly motioning his hips forward, senses overloaded with him everywhere, but you can feel your whole body respond to it. When you sigh yet again and his name comes out in a whimper, hand gripping his neck like your life depends on it, he knows.

“Let’s get you out of this,” he suggests, now a little bit past slightly out of breath as he proceeds to lift the t-shirt up and up until it’s free and thrown somewhere.

You couldn’t check the time then, but, if you could, you’d notice exactly thirty one minutes have passed.

“Have you even applied any sunscreen?” You call out from the inside of the house, holding a simple and delicious cup of cold water in your hands.

When you’re thirsty, everything will taste incredible.

“No!” He simply answers, ridding his hair of the excess water. “I’m only staying for twenty minutes while you shower, no need for sunscreen.”

“Yes need for sunscreen,” you disagree, sipping your water one last time before rummaging through your bag in search of the light blue bottle.

You immediately feel it in your skin as soon as you’re not covered by the roof of the house anymore. It is, after all, almost lunch time and the sun is at its peak — beautiful, majestic and burning hot. It only takes a few steps for you to reach the border of the pool and Jungkook gets the message, slowly walking towards you in the water.

“Dry your face and shoulders, please,” you demand at once, throwing him a small towel that was hanging around one of the lounge chairs. Luckily, he’s quick enough to catch it before it falls into the pool.

Still, Jungkook complains quietly. “It’s just twenty minutes, it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal until your cheeks are completely red,” you argue, squeezing a bit of the product on your fingers and soon applying it to his forehead and down his blushed nose. “Look, it’s already rosy from the walk we took. You should’ve asked for the sunscreen earlier.”

“Okay, okay,” he begrudgingly agrees just as he closes his eyes, your hands running close to the eyebrows. “You know what? We should’ve booked this place for one more day.”

“You think so?” You ask, finally bringing your hands back and closing the lid of the sunscreen bottle. “Don’t dip your head in the water for at least a few minutes, please,” you warn.

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been to LA before, we know how it is. I think I like it here more,” Jungkook explains, swimming backwards towards the middle of the pool. “We’re staying in a hotel for two days before going back home. A hotel doesn’t have this.”

“The hotel has a pool.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully. “You know what I mean. We can’t have this in a hotel.”

“We can just rest for two days,” you suggest. “Wake up and eat and nap and eat and…”

He laughs and twirls in the water. “I hate to interrupt you, but we’ll be late for checkout if you don’t go shower.”

“Right.”

There’s something about being on the road with him that brings you nothing but peace. It must be the perfect combination of clear skies, warm winds, the comfortable silence and the freedom of being on the road. Even with a destination in mind, it doesn’t feel like you need to follow it through. You can go anywhere, do anything, stop the car in the middle of nowhere and stare at the sea for an hour if you want to.

It almost makes you feel nostalgic for something that is happening right now.

The road gets busier and busier the closer you get to the city. Around here, you can see the mansions up in the hills, the exclusive restaurants here and there, and the fancy cars accelerating past the maximum speed displayed on the road signs of Malibu. Still, when you slowly press the brakes to stop on a red light, it feels like you’re in your own little world.

It’s always like this. He’s there and, suddenly, it hits. Everything around you melts, there’s nothing else. Sometimes, when Jungkook’s in the room, it almost looks like he shines — to you, there’s a bright, golden aura surrounding him. It’s warm, inviting and irresistible.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything when he sees the corners of your lips tug up without a reason, deciding to just mirror them. Once again, you find yourself wishing you could freeze this moment — this very moment. Just as his smile reaches his sparkling eyes and an airy laugh escapes his lips.

“Baby, the lights have just turned green.”

Read more ›› masterlist

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #yes the smut tag some of you were waiting for but don't get too excited

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dilly-oh · 3 years

Text

Trashy Romance Novel

“Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

He stopped.

The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked.

Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before-

The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

“...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top.

“You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

“You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

“Excuse me, WHAT-”

“Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

“My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

“Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

“Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.”

“...May I ask why?”

“Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

“I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah they definitely did-”

“Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it.

“...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-”

“Okay how did you really break it?”

“Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

“Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach.

Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door.

“I need to go.”

“Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him.

Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

“Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

“What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage.

“Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

“Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled.

“You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

“Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

“The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

“Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously.

“Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

“Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

“So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

“Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

“You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began.

“He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

“Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

“Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

“You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

“I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

Iruka paused, considering.

“I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

“That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

“Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated.

“Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

“I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff.

“And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

“I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation.

He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

Including the steamy bits.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #hospital au #crappy romance novels #all the cliches

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kirencer · 4 years

Text

febuary seventh (i’m seeing you)

Y/n and Spencer's relationship collide around a single day: the one where they first looked into each others eyes.

[Or, the all of the secret love letters they wrote during the beginning of their relationship]

Word count: (part one and two) 9.2k

Warnings: Language

Rating: Gen audiences

A/N: it was too long for tumblr, so I broke it into two parts!! Enjoy. GN! Afab reader (it’s important, trust me)

Part Two

Y/n looked up. They had just finished reading Spencer’s journal, the one dedicated to them. Spencer was kneeling and in his hand was a small box, the dainty ring he’d gotten years ago from his mom sat in between the white.

“Will you, Y/n L/n, do me the greatest pleasure by marrying me?” Spencer said with his anxiety showing through. Y/n gasped and threw themself at Spencer, wrapping their arms tight around him.

“Yes!” they cried, pulling away for Spencer to slide the ring on their finger. Then they took a deep breath. “Wait here.”

They disappeared into the two’s bedroom, rummaging through some things before running back with a black binder in hand. “It’s only fair if you see my unsent love letters, too.”

Spencer grasped it and flipped the binder open as Y/n guided him to the couch.

“They’re in order but aren’t as neatly organized as yours - I stopped writing before you did, though.”

————————————————

For Spencer Reid, february 8th 2008 10:17 am

It was yesterday, a little more than 24 hours ago at 6 am that I was on a bus. Tiny, white and cramped, but now I realize it was actually a ferry to the love of my life. Even though at the moment all I cared about was when I was going to get to stretch my legs next, it still buzzed with excitement because I was about to be in your city even if you didn’t come to see me, that would’ve been enough. Being three feet away from you is more than enough. Being Two inches away from you is bliss. But your head on my shoulder is nirvana.

But then, only two hours after I had started my d&d campaign (the moon isles or something) there was an urge to look behind me. I tried to ignore it but I looked anyway.

What I saw scared me. Not because I’m afraid of you Spencer, but because I was scared of myself. I wanted to run to you and hug you, but I was too scared of scaring you away that I didn’t. My head seemed to spin as a second glance felt like a hundred years. Then a smile broke out on my face and I looked away. At first I didn’t think it could be you, I half screamed at the two people sitting on the left side of me. “Don’t look now, but my boyfriend’s here” of course they looked and Sophia told me that you were walking over here.

My insecurities flared up, but I remembered that you love me, even though I'm tired and probably covered in acne. She said you sat down behind me and I risked a quick glance, or two, or three times every two minutes. I tried to act as normal as possible even though if I looked back I would see the smile that lifted your cheeks when I looked at you. It was hard to focus on my campaign because it’s cliche, but I could sense you behind me and I was shaking. My friends were hyping me up to say Hi and I was trying to not scream. I ran to the bathroom, splashed water on my face and tried to calm down. I ran back, probably looking a little too excited. Ok, I was totally too excited.

My campaign finished up, you caught me staring at you a few times and my friends told me you were looking at me anytime we all made a loudish noise. After that, you followed us to lunch, well, followed me. You stood beside me and I said Hi, you replied the same. Then you grabbed your stuff and seemed to have left. I visibly deflated, my one chance to see you and I missed it. Then you came back, with a takeout bag in hand and some fries. I didn’t mention it already but you looked adorable in your glasses, from afar they look too big for you but then you see the big warm eyes behind them. Your cheekbones are so nice and everything about you is handsome, even more than I could have imagined. Photographs don’t do you justice. I hoped you had liked your dice, I got the red and black ones but I was scared you didn’t like yours.

You sat directly in front of me and my friends (Deriasia and Emma) immediately made fun of me and I almost died. At that moment. When you smiled and laughed. My friends gave us their blessing, which kinda fit because you were as tense as if you were meeting my parents.

I asked you to sit with me during the next campaign and you did (we snuck you in without paying). You played with the first character I ever played (Bida the high elf wizard). I was almost too distracted to really compete in all the things, instead focusing on you. You let me use your journal to doodle, a weird eye and a girl. Did you notice me fiddling with my hands? If I didn't keep them busy I probably would’ve put my hands in your hair or grab your hand. I remember you asking me if I needed a hug. I said yes and I think that hug is the most important one I've ever had. You laid on me and I didn’t care what my friends would say, all that matters was you.

My skin in two weeks will not remember the feel of your hair, my lips will not remember your cheek, but my brain forever will. At that moment, physical immortality is not as important as the immortalization of those touches.

They linger in my head, fuzzy and soft on my skin but they’re there.

I remember you telling me not to buy you anything (i still got you a resin skull magnet and dice) I remember flirting with you, i remember it all. I remember how you know all of Sappho’s poems and fragments, I want to remember everything about you. I know I won’t, you’re the one with the crazy good memory, after all.

I wish I would’ve looked in your eyes and told you that I saw you. I wish I would’ve pressed my lips to yours, but then again there’s always next time. And next time I will, even if it’s right in front of the whole world. Because I love you. I really fucking love you and everyone can suck it. I love you.

And I think that’s all that matters.

____

I have waited almost six months to hold you in my arms, and now I wait longer. I hate myself, I didn't hug you. I should’ve.

I didn’t tell you I love you enough, I didn’t kiss you properly. I wish I did.

Currently my arms ache to hold you, my eyes burn to see you and my lips yearn to touch yours. I can’t wait to indulge myself in thousands of kisses, I hope they are as sweet as your skin. Kinda licked my lips after kissing your nose, cheek, and right under your neck. You taste sweet, I think I'm addicted.

I still feel the ghosts of your touch on my skin, I love it. I love you. I want to have your actual skin under my fingertips, to hold you when you wake up from a bad dream, to dance with you under the stars. Decide what song is ours and argue over how cheesy it is. Cry on the day we say our vows, cry at the birth of our first child, cry when they go to school, cry when they grow up, cry when I realize that we did it. I can’t wait to have life with you.

If there’s such a thing as soulmates then the word was made to describe us.

I love you.

____

I fell asleep, I woke up right before you texted me. I dreamt about you, in my mind I fell asleep with you in my arms. In my mind I am sitting in a cafe, right across from you drinking tea.

I prefer it to real life, by about an infinite percent. My friend came in and basically yelled at me to let him use my box, I told him to fuck off. I know I won’t be able to fall back asleep but I do hope to continue my dream tonight. Currently im trying to believe that you think i’m “stunning” it’s starting to work it’s way into my mind that i’m not ugly.

Spencer, I love you.

You have such an effect on me, the first week we were together you weaseled your way into my mind. You sprouted a tree that is still a sapling but has rooted to the core of my mind, slipping into my heart and spreading through my limbs. You’re almost a drug (the only one I approve of).

You’re poison, searing through my veins and warning my skin. But you’re not toxic, you’re candy, sugary sweet, something tangible that almost floats in and out of existence.

If you are a God, I am your most loyal patron.

____

Time is meaningless but it goes so fast, only eight minutes left to talk then my day ends. So many more ‘I love you’s I could say.

But time will not permit our love, that’s fine, I’ll wait it out till the end.

You’re worth it.

Seven Minutes

____

You always deny that you’re adorable, and that’s so adorable.

It’s frustrating sometimes because you’re so beautiful you deserve to know it. But oh well, i’ll just have to prove you are.

I told you I’d rather go on a date with you first before doing anything sexual. you also deserve to know your love is all I need, not your body (that’s just a perk)

You’re hot, sue me!

____

In the shower, I have most of my daydreams. Ranging from cotton candy clouds to a place where my parents accept me. However, the best daydream i’ve ever had is about a boy. A boy with chocolate brown eyes and a beautiful smile. Ding Ding Ding, his name is Spencer.

My dream is about his last name, well it involves it. I imagine myself talking to him while I say an important speech, in front of a crowd of people. I’m talking about our relationship, about how much I love you, and how much I can’t wait for the next chapter of our life to start. I always tear up when everyone is quiet at the end, and then you say what you have to say. It’s fuzzy and I don’t remember any of it (kinda want you to make your own in the future) but after you say it. It's time.

You say two words, so low only I and the person standing next to us can hear, “I do”

That’s the best day dream I’ve ever had, because I know it won’t be just a dream (I hope)

____

The best part of my day is looking at any photos from you: they always make me smile. Even when my day has been utterly terrible, your bright eyes are always a light in the dark.

I often don’t even need to think about you to have your smile in my mind, it’s just there, like a constant bright sunshiny beam. A single thought about you makes my day, a single touch my year, remembering that you’re mine makes my life a whole much better.

You, make living better.

I live for you, you’re all I ever want to have.

Je suis fou amoureux de toi.

____

So uh, you might have noticed but I don’t know how to talk to people, let alone talk to you.

It’s not that I have nothing to say, I have too much to say. It all bubbles in my mind and makes me jump on topic every three seconds. But when it comes to you, I'm stuck on which way to tell you I love you.

So, how about all of them?

I don’t need to focus on a single part of your face to know that it’s beautiful, but I do. All the parts work in harmony, like a choir. But individually they are still beautiful. I love every single inch of your face, individually and together.

I love you for your personality, I fell in love with a genius who is so much more than his memory or intelligence. Then I fell in love with a sweet boy who whined when I said self deprecating things. When we first met, I instantly fell in love again, with a shy boy who would look up at me from under his lashes.

Fuck, my mind is racing too much to distinguish anymore. But, I hoped I showed you.

That, I love you now, and forever will.

Happy Valentine’s day, my love.

____

Happy anniversary, god I can’t believe it’s been five months already. It seems just yesterday I was crying over whether or not I should continue liking you (i had told myself I wasn’t good enough for you).

Well, turns out I was wrong. I’m just enough for you. It doesn’t matter to me anymore if you’ll ever leave me, well, it does, `but there’s something more important, you being loved and being happy is what matters. And I can’t wait to give you what matters.

I love you babe! I’ll try to write more to show it.

____

My mind is a cavern of echoes, words (well a name) revertibrating in my skull.

The things used to be about art, school, anything slightly important.

But now, it’s filled with the most important person in my life. Analyzing the color of his hair (a warm brown), thinking of his eyes, thinking of his name and my name with a change; Spencer Reid (and sometimes Y/n Reid) has taken over my mind and burrowed into my soul.

I think if the red string of fate was real then we’d have been connected when we first met. Fuck, we are connected.

If we weren’t why would I have fallen in love with you? It was fate that I sent a letter to a wrong address, fate that I stumbled upon the boy that would change my life for the better.

Our souls are connected, being pulled because of the distance though, and I can’t wait to be with you. Not two halves of a whole, but two souls that fit like a puzzle piece.

I love you, and you love me. Even though I'm a coward.

When we have a daughter, her name should be Rhiannon. We will both dote on her like the goddess she is. Just a thought :>

____

You were in my house today. I think I'm dying, I'm wearing your sweater. It smells like you. I think you left it behind on purpose.

You smell really nice. It’s not like a cologne or anything, but it's nice. You’re nice

You kissed me. You’re a really good kisser. You should do it again and again and again.

I got the news yesterday, my transfer went in, I'm sending my letter to you tomorrow. I know you’re in my city but I'd rather it be like this.

I don’t think i'm going to write any more, don’t think that means i don’t love you!!

I am going to hold you for hours, I promise, I love you.

————————————————

Spencer finished reading and smiled up at his new fiance. “We were such dorks! It's crazy how similar we thought.”

Y/n nodded and looked down at their ring. “We were dorks in love! Um, so how do you feel about the name Rhiannon?”

“It’s pretty, but I don’t think we need to be worrying about baby names - we need to figure out how to tell my team we’re engaged.” Spencer quipped, wrapping his arms around Y/n before it hit him.

Y/n’s morning sickness, the weird secretive doctors appointment, and what they had just said. “No!” he whispers, a smile growing on his face, “I’m gonna be a dad?”

They nod and bury their head into Spencer’s chest. Spencer can’t stop the smile that beams across his face. He grabs Y/n and spins them around in his arms, “This is the best news!!”

He pressed a deep kiss to Y/n’s lips, then went onto his knees to wrap his arms around Y/n. “Jason Derek Reid if it’s a boy and Rhiannon Penelope Reid if it’s a girl.”

Y/n smiles and nods, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Let’s be on the same page, forever from now on, okay?”

They nodded, Spencer’s hands finding place on their back as he pressed his lips right below Y/n’s navel. Y/n’s hand’s dug into his hair: “Forever.”

Years later the two do indeed wake up on a Saturday morning to impatient kids who demand to be made pancakes. Sometimes after a hard case they do dance at three am in their underwear. Sometimes they do a lot of things in their underwear. They’re together in every way imaginable.

And to them? It’s the most important thing that could ever be possible.

The End

part one

#spencer x you #spencer reid x reader #ao3 #reader insert #writing #pregnancy

47 notes · View notes

ve1vetyoongi · 5 years

Text

Operation: Love Letters | 06

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 4k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings/rating: none, PG.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

💌 A/N: so here it is! the finale of OLL :,( i’m immensely sad to see it come to an end but also so so proud of it! just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who screamed with me in my inbox/replies over the mystery and everyone who theorized and discussed the clues, it made me SO FREAKING HAPPY you’ll never understand <3 i love you and i hope you guys have an amazing valentines day!! let this be my gift to you! p.s i hope the reveal is satisfying...lemme know!

"Yoongi?" You splutter, mouth dry when you turn and find him leaning against the door frame with a confused expression. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you guys the same thing." He gestures between yourself and Jimin. "I saw you guys come in here earlier and wanted to see what was up. Now answer my question." He points to the laptop. "What is my name doing on the screen?"

"Is it true?"

"What? That my name is Min Yoongi, yeah—"

"Don't be an asshole right now, Yoongi." He jolts when you slam a hand down against the desk, swallowing hard to force the sour words to leave your lips. "Is it true that you knew we got matched in the Love Calculator?"

He sucks in a sharp breath and it's like the whole room has been drained of oxygen. "How did you find out?"

His admission makes your stomach drop and you're suddenly overcome with a sorrowful concoction of humiliation and heartbreak. "Because it was you who sent me all those letters, right? It was you all along."

"Y/N let me explain—"

"How could you?" Your voice wavers and you have to bite back the tears welling in your eyes. "Was it just some big joke to you? A prank?"

"That's not how it is." Yoongi rushes forward to reach for you, but his hands fall to his side helplessly when you step back. "It was never like that."

"What? So I'm supposed to believe that you meant what you said in these stupid letters? You're always so cold around me Yoongi, you treat me like shit at the best of times. Why should I believe you?"

"I'm sorry." Yoongi's own lip trembles now, and his eyes are wide. "I...I don't know what else to say."

"Sorry because I'm so undateable you had to lead me on so you could laugh at me while I searched for my fucking non-existent secret admirer this whole time?" He looks pained when you stare at him with cold eyes. "Not cool, Yoongi."

"Y/N wait! Let's talk about this at least—"

"Don't bother." Hot tears spill down your cheeks but you're already rushing out into the hall before anyone can see them. "We're never talking ever again."

"Tell me why I should listen to what you have to say?" Jimin says as he slides into a seat opposite Yoongi at the local coffee shop, turning his nose up at the matcha-soy-latte-no-ice he had already ordered for him. "My best friend is locked in my apartment eating ice cream and crying to re-runs of Friends after you just dropped the bomb of the century on her and you've dragged me out here to get coffee why?"

"Please." Yoongi sighs, jerking forward in his seat and spilling coffee on the table in his attempt to stop Jimin from getting up and leaving as quick as he arrived. "Just hear me out!"

"Fine." Jimin leans back into his seat with narrowed eyes, crossing his legs and gesturing for Yoongi to talk as he eyes up the latte after all. "I'm listening."

"The letters weren't a joke." Yoongi says simply. "I meant what I said."

Jimin chokes mid sip. "Come again?"

"I said, the love letters were real. I really have feelings for Y/N." He rakes a hand through his hair, cheeks burning when he sees Jimin's disbelieving eyes.

"Well damn," Jimin shakes his head woefully, finally understanding Yoongi's true predicament. "You royally fucked up, huh?"

"I know." Yoongi's shoulders drop and his head falls into his hands pitifully. "I didn't mean for things to turn out like this, Jimin. She was never meant to find out this way. Or at all, actually."

Jimin let's out a sigh, protective best friend guard softening as he leans in closer. "Why didn't you just tell her they were from you in the first place?"

Yoongi shakes his head, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, self loathing evident in his voice. "I don't know. It was dumb and I see that now and she'll probably never want to speak to me again so that's it I guess."

"Hey." Jimin extends a hand to pat Yoongi's arm reassuringly. "There's still time to make things right. You both did things you didn't mean. You just have to clear up the misunderstanding."

Yoongi looks up hopefully. "You really think she'll hear me out?"

"Absolutely." Jimin smiles. "Besides, I've always thought you two would be a good match. A girl needs a man who can tolerate her best friend, too."

"Who says I tolerate you?" Yoongi grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and averting his eyes.

"Me, because I'm about to save your ass." He grabs his phone from his back pocket and dials up your number, lifting the device to his ear as he points to the exit. "Now go! You have a relationship to save!"

"Yoongi?"

There's no answer from your roommate when you throw off your shoes and rush up the stairs of your apartment without even bothering to shut the door behind you, out of breath and desperate to confront him before you go crazy with the concoction of shock and realisation buzzing through your veins, as the puzzle pieces of Operation Love Letters finally fit together and you let the truth sink in.

Min Yoongi is your secret admirer. And deep down, you think a part of you knew it all along.

Jimin had called you from the car after his talk with Yoongi to fill you in, practically yelling at you to go make things right immediately, so that's how you find yourself searching your apartment high and low for Min Yoongi.

You've lived together for so long that you're used to hearing the sound of him throwing beats around on his computer in the lounge or cooking up a storm in the kitchen when you get home, but the couch is absent of his usual pyjama clad presence and the abnormal silence that shrouds your shared apartment makes your chest tighten with nerves.

Maybe he was just asleep? Nothing would surprise you. The guy needed at least 13 hours to function, so you check his room first.

"Are you in here?" You knock his door three times, but end up barging inside of your own accord when you hear no groan of protest from the other side. Much to your disappointment, Yoongi's bedspread is neatly made, with no human-shaped lump starfished in the centre like usual. His laptop is switched off on his desk, music equipment abandoned beside it and defeat feels like a blow to the stomach when you finally accept that Yoongi is no where to be found.

You perch on the end of his bed and let your eyes drift around the room, from the pile of laundry in the corner to the Polaroid pictures of the two of you pinned to his wall. Could Yoongi really have been your secret admirer this whole time?

Now that you think about it, Yoongi has always been there. Whether it was comforting you after Hoseok blew you off, taking care of you at Seokjin's party or saving you from Taehyung's clumsy ass at the kissing booth, Yoongi was always the one person who stuck by your side no matter what.

You think of all the times Yoongi was there to hold your hair back when you drank yourself sick or how he picked up Chinese food on his way home when he heard you had a bad day or how he never complained when he had to take cold showers because you used up all the hot water.

Yoongi always loved you, in his own way; through quiet late night words of reassurance and small actions of kindness that you ignorantly put down to obligation, rather than a spark that ran deeper for Yoongi than you ever realised before. Whenever you needed him he was there, despite the half assed protests and the grumpy facade he pretends to uphold.

Even while you were too busy pursuing a stupid fairytale to see that the person who cared for you most was right in front of you, Yoongi loved you. And It didn't matter how many clues you followed. You were just too blind to see the truth all along.

Guilt suddenly wracks your conscience. The Yoongi who wrote those letters was so gentle, so sincere in his confession. You can't imagine how much it must have hurt him to watch you write him off so easily, see you run around searching for the author when he was in plain sight the whole time.

God, how could you have been so dumb?

You get up from the bed, ready to head out, but something catches your eye on his nightstand. It's another enveloped letter and you're unsurprised to see your name on the front in Yoongi's stupid pink pen when you take a deep breath and break the seal with your thumb.

A tear slides down your cheek as you re-read the same three words Yoongi wrote in his messy scrawl over and over again. I love you.

Could it be true? That all this time you've been blind to what was right in front of you?

You know where to find me...

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand and wrack your brains for an answer. What could he mean by that? Where was he waiting for you?

Squeezing your eyes shut in thought, you flop onto the bed, only to hear a quiet crunch where your butt collides with the mattress. A memory flashes across your mind and with shaky hands you retrieve the screwed up sticky note from your back pocket that your secret admirer — Yoongi — pressed into your hand at the kissing booth.

You check your watch. 11:55. If you left now, you could just make it in time to stop Yoongi from giving up on you. To open your eyes and see the real him for the first time.

But not before you flip the page and rip the cap off a pen with your teeth, letting your heart pour out through your fingertips in a string of words that were ready to be written now you finally knew who your heart had been addressed to all along.

Without a second thought, you grab your keys and head towards the roof with a belly full of butterflies to see the one person you should have suspected all along.

Min Yoongi.

12:17

"Shit, shit, shit!" You breathe as you grip the stitch in your side and bound up another flight of stairs towards the rooftop garden.

As if in slow motion, you crash through the door and squint through the orange glow of the setting sun for the familiar face you hadn't realised just how much you cherished until you were faced with losing it forever.

Your hands grip the metal balcony rail, glancing around at the hanging baskets of fragrant wild flowers that sway in the afternoon breeze and the sun's golden reflection in the water fountains where tiny birds splash their wings. The garden is like a fairytale, an almost enchanted escape from the bustling city below.

But there's no sign of your prince. No sign of Yoongi to be found. Are you too late?

You're about to give up when a wind chime rings out nearby, and you follow its song beneath an arch obscured by leafy rose plants and sweet smelling jasmine to a hidden wooden swing that rocks gently back and forth to a stand still, occupied only moments ago by the boy who rakes a hand through his blonde hair with a sigh and heads towards the steps with a pained expression of defeat.

Yoongi. Your Yoongi.

"I came!" You call out breathlessly, hair whipping around your face in the wind. "Please don't go. I'm here."

Yoongi freezes when he hears your voice, head slowly turning until his eyes land on where you stand watching him. There's a bouquet of vibrant sunflowers in his hands, his knuckles white he clutches them so hard, a sigh of simultaneous relief and elation leaving him when he realises he isn't seeing things. You're really here. All for him this time.

"I waited for ages." He swallows hard, voice a tender whisper. "I thought you weren't coming."

Hesitantly, you take a few steps towards him. He seems so fragile now as he looks at you with wide eyes, no trace of the tough guy you were used in their stare. "I'm late because I'm an asshole. And I don't just mean late to meet you here, I mean late to seeing that...it was you all along. You were my secret admirer."

"Don't be an idiot." Yoongi laughs pitifully and shakes his head, scuffing his shoe against the tarmac. "I'm the asshole. It's just like you said. I couldn't confess to you in person so I hid behind letters like a coward."

You reach out to gently take his face in your hands, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's okay, Yoongi. We both messed up, but we're here now. We're both here. And that's all that matters."

Yoongi's eyes light up with a mixture of relief and elation, glinting in the soft amber light. "Really?"

"Really." You nod, and Yoongi pulls you tight to his chest, your cheek right above where his heart beats uncontrollably just like yours, chin pressed to the top of your head like he never wants to let you go. His embrace feels comforting, like home, and in that moment you realise just how right it feels.

"There were just all these things I wanted to say and I...I couldn't." He whispers into your hair. "I'm so sorry I couldn't."

"Like what?" Your arms curl around his waist and you feel him smile. "Tell me now."

Yoongi pulls back to search your eyes for any sign of hesitation, then wets his lips before words spill out of him on the wave of a harmonious laugh of relief, like he can't hold them inside any longer.

"I wanted to tell you how much I love it when you steal my hoodies from the laundry basket. And when I come downstairs to find you dancing around the kitchen and microwaving spaghetti at 3am. Or when you make me soup when I'm sick or how you drag me along to all your dumb operation thingy-ma-bobby missions — what was it, again?"

"Love letters," You giggle, dizzy on the emotion swelling in your chest at his sincerity. "Operation love letters."

"Know what? It doesn't matter because I even love when you correct me about every damn thing." He rolls his eyes but you can tell there's no malice behind it as he shares your elated laughter now, smile growing bigger and bigger as he finally releases the feelings he's been bottling up for so long. "I love how you cry when you laugh and how you always forget to water the house plants and how your hair sticks up in the morning and how you never ever give up on anything. How you never gave up on me." Yoongi pauses, reaches for your hand and links your fingers together. He uses his knuckle to wipe away the stray tear that has slid down your cheek. "But most of all? I love you, Y/N. And I know it's taken me a long time to say it but...I mean it. I love you."

There's a moment of brief silence, just Yoongi taking heaving breaths and your heart thumping in your ears as you let his words sink in.

Yoongi is your secret admirer. Yoongi your annoyingly-smart-effortlessly-handsome-grumpy-but-thoughtful roommate. Yoongi loves you.

"I...I don't know what to say." You manage to stammer. "I had no idea. This whole time it was really you?"

The hopeful look on Yoongi's face disappears in a flash, his posture wilting. He takes a step back, head bowed, cheeks burning even as he tries to keep his cool. "Are you disappointed?"

"What? No—"

"You don't have to say anything I...I don't expect you to feel the same way, I know I'm not like those other guys it's just — God," Yoongi's voice cracks and he looks down, hands wringing around the bouquet. "I know you'll never love me back but...if you knew how hard it's been not being able to say I love you out loud like that until now..."

He staggers back, flustered and nervous. You take a step forward and grab his hand before he can get away. You feel how the callouses on his hand fit perfectly with your own when you squeeze it lightly, reaching up to brush the hair out of his eyes with a smile. "Then tell me. I want to hear about it all."

"Really?" His own eyes get glassy when you nod harder than you ever have in your life and although he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth to stop the tears spilling over, you can still see the traces of a smile in his eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"

You throw your arms around his neck, smushing your chin into the place between his shoulder with a contented sigh. You can't help it. You're overwhelmed with a funny fuzzy feeling and all you want to do is hold him close. It just feels right.

Yoongi must feel the same because his arms curl around your waist like they've done it a hundred times before, lifting your feet off the ground to spin you around elatedly.

"From the beginning," You whisper, dizzy with a promising bliss. "Tell me everything."

"So," Yoongi starts. You're both curled up on the swing beneath his jacket, him at one end and you at the other, alternating between gazing out over the view of the city which is bathed in the rose tinted glow of sunset and the permanent flush atop of Yoongi's cheeks that burns just as bright. "You're not mad at me any more for not telling you?"

You avert your gaze, embarrassed at your earlier leap to conclusions. "No. And I never should have doubted you, when you said that you meant what you said in the letters. I see that now." Yoongi's hand is still tenderly linked with yours and he runs his thumb over your knuckles reassuringly, telling you to go on. "I just couldn't understand why me. I still don't. You usually act so grouchy around me that I thought the letters were too good to be true."

Yoongi looks away wistfully before he sits up seriously, tugging your hands into his lap. He swallows hard, like he's had this speech prepared for a long time. "Listen, I know that I've been kind of weird around you in the past. But the truth is, I've liked you ever since I found out we were going to be roommates." There's a sincerity in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, and you nod breathlessly at his confession, filled with emotion all over again at hearing the words leave his lips instead of reading them on paper. "But the feelings were so strong — stronger than I've ever felt for anyone — and I guess I just got...scared. So I thought it would be easier if I acted cold around you so you'd leave like everyone else, but you never did. And I couldn't make myself ask you to go, so I just bottled up my feelings instead."

You tilt your head, gently nudging him. "Until?"

"Until I did that stupid Love Calculator thing. Honestly I only filled out the survey because I thought it might help me get over you." He shrugs. "But then I got your name. 100% compatible. And it just felt like some big joke from the universe telling me that no matter how hard I tried, I'd never have a chance with you and all the feelings I repressed came rushing back and I kinda spiraled I guess."

"So why didn't you just tell me?"

"Taehyung convinced me it was better to write you a letter. Ya know, to get out all my feelings so I could let them go for good. I was never going to send it to you." He suddenly exclaims. "But Taehyung must have found it in one of his notebooks and I guess he thought he was being a good friend by sending it to you...but then you started looking for the secret admirer behind it and I just panicked! I didn't know how to tell you it was from me, or how you'd react, so it was easier to just go along with your plan."

You run your fingers over a flower petal from the pretty bouquet that sits in your lap. "What made you change your mind?" You ask. "You could have gotten away with it. I never would have suspected it was from you."

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath. "That day at the kissing booth. I guess someone told Seokjin the truth and he rigged the raffle so I would win the grand prize and...I couldn't resist. I kissed you. And kissing someone has never felt like that before. Not like you. And I just knew...I knew I wasn't over you. And I owed it to myself to tell you. So that's why I slipped you the note to meet me here. That's why I decided to reveal my identity."

"Speaking of secret admirers," You fumble around in your jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper that you jerk towards him. "There's one thing I need to ask you, actually."

"What is it?" There's a curious glint in his eyes as he unfolds the note and reads the message inside while you hug your torso and anxiously swing your feet back and forth.

You feel his eyes on you again before he says anything else. There's a small smile on his face when he finishes reading and you can't help the way your own lips curve upwards. "I know it's a few years late, but better late than never right?"

Yoongi lets out a deep chuckle, eyes soft and crinkled at the edges like he's looking at the whole world when they take in the light blush caressing your cheeks. "I think you know what my answer is."

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in cheekily so that the tips of your noses brush lightly. "I want to hear you say it anyway."

"Of course I'll be your Valentine Y/N." The brightest smile you've ever seen appears on his face and he links your fingers together before connecting your lips in a tender kiss that makes your heart soar. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

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puckngrind · 4 years

Text

What’s In a Name: 5 - J. Toews

Chapter 5

Where we left off: Jon and the Blackhawks won the 2015 Stanley Cup and he elects to celebrate with Bekah at home vs. going out on the town.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,405 (felt way longer when I wrote it)

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Titles.

It’s hard to title something when you just don’t know what to call it or admit to it honestly. Bekah loved watching Jon and his team regain the title of champions. It gave him this energy as they enjoyed the time they spent together. Bekah was nervous when Jon told her his family was going to come over. They decided having dinner in was better than out since the entire city was electrified after the win. With that his family came over for dinner the night after the win but everyone kept the conversation more to the week’s plans of celebrating and not Jon and Bekah’s connection. Bekah wondered if Jon asked them not to discuss it or was it just not an issue for them? She observed the Toews family more than anything.

A phone call changed all that was planned when Bekah had to leave before the city celebrations for the cup. Jon knew he couldn’t beg her to stay when her boss called needing her back early and gave her the vacation days back times two. Bekah promised to use them all on him as she kissed him hard before heading into Midway and back to Ohio. Her presence was missed as he hoisted the cup for the thousands of fans who lined the streets and packed into Soldier Field. With so many eyes on him he really only wanted hers right there next to him. Then just like that he was back home in Winnipeg and their text and phone conversations continued like normal.

By the end of the summer, Jon and Bekah were laying in bed in his Chicago home when they decided just not to label it. The months between her leaving after the cup and his training camp starting they found a few times to see each other. He made a couple trips to Columbus on the way to or from vacations and work requirements. Bekah found herself on a plane a few times for a weekend in Chicago when he was there. He mentioned his days with the cup but then dropped it after she started talking about a major project. He also wondered if the spotlight of his career was part of it. He never spoke the words to her but it was almost constantly in the back of his mind. They enjoyed the time together but their lives didn’t quite mesh once the season started and they both knew it.

What the two couldn’t deny was that the sex was amazing and the friendship they built was different than any relationship they had with anyone else. Bekah was a complete open book with Jon. He knew the completely unfiltered Bekah even more than her own family or even Brynn. Jon confided in her in ways even he was shocked by sometimes. She wasn’t caught up in the fame of his world and venting about all of it seemed easier with her. Yet, at the end of the day, being in a defined relationship just wasn’t realistic so they decided friendship was perfectly fine.

Finding time throughout the season was rough. It added to the fact that a friendship would be the only thing that would work. Bekah had a big project for Christmas and Jon had the flu during All-star break. The timing just didn’t work and the tension was felt by both once the end of the season rolled in.

Jon: are you coming to the game tonight?

The Blue Jackets were playing the Blackhawks and Bekah was already at Brynn’s waiting for her to go.

Bekah: Maybe...

Jon: are you wearing your CBJ sweater or mine?

Bekah: I said maybe, Tae.

Jon: I know you are coming. I just need to know if I need to look for that stupid thirds sweater or the far superior one you own.

Bekah pulls her lip into her teeth to contain the smile.

Jon: that’s mine. I think you know what I’m hoping to see 😉

“That’s Jon isn’t it?” Brynn emerged from her bedroom with her self-deemed lucky Blue Jackets sweatshirt on. “Are you telling him you are betraying our friendship and wearing that?” Brynn’s face contorts looking at her best friend in a Blackhawks jersey curled up on her couch.

“Rin!” Bekah huffs out.

“What? Our team....excuse me, my team needs as much cheering as possible. It’s been a rough season and today is our last game and Chicago already made the playoffs,” she gives her bestie a sly smile, “but I get it.” Brynn flutters around her home before finally getting in Bekah’s car.

Bekah’s phone buzzes as her and Brynn enter Nationwide Arena.

Jon: I’m skating during warmups but I’m a healthy scratch. Just don’t want you to worry.

Bekah cusses and Brynn looks over and mouths what?

“Well, maybe I should have worn something else?” Bekah flashes the text to Brynn as they walk.

“Greeeeaaattt. They are resting him because this game doesn’t matter. He will be in the press box then.” Brynn points up as they stand at the top of their section.

Warmups start and Bekah crosses her legs tight when Jon’s eyes meet hers. It had been months since the two saw each other in person and while she thought the desire to be under him was gone, by the look on both of their faces you could tell that just wasn’t true.

“You two are eye fucking each other with an audience.” Brynn whispers into Bekah’s ear.

“What? No. Rin. We are friends.” Bekah feels the flush coming to her cheeks.

“Friendship my ass...” Brynn says under her breath as the teams skate off.

Jon: I can see you, Beks

Bekah: what? When you were on the ice?

Jon: Now. I might be in the rafters but you are in a sea of blue with my jersey on. Still looks smokin’ hot on you.

Jon: from every angle 😉

Jon sends a picture of Bekah and Brynn from his seat. Bekah turns around and looks up. She can see the top of his head leaning out the box.

Bekah: I see you too.

Jon: Can I see you tonight please?

Bekah: I guess.

Jon: I’ll meet you in the lobby after the game.

“I’m guessing I’m riding home with Derek?” Brynn leans into Bekah at the end of the game.

“Yeah.” Bekah feels the warmth return to her cheeks.

The game ended and Bekah found herself standing in the Blackhawks team hotel’s lobby waiting for Jon. Pacing and attempting to take in the surroundings. She was glad she had a decent t-shirt on under her jersey because looking like a fan girl waiting for the team was not a look she was going for. Especially after how long it had been since she was face to face with Jon without plexiglass between them.

“Hey Beks.” Jon’s voice whispers from behind her. She jumps and turns.

“Tae! Long time, no see.” She goes to hug him and he catches her lips in his with his hands on her face. Releasing her face he slides one of his hands into hers and leads Bekah up to his room.

Jon pinned her to the door as he locked it in place. “Sorry I didn’t play tonight.” Jon sucks on the spot behind Bekah’s ear.

“Sorry your team didn’t win.” Bekah laughs as she runs her hands up the inside of his suit coat. Pulling at his shirt.

“Well it looked like your team lost from your outfit choice. Speaking of, where is it?” Jon pulls his finger along the collar of Bekah’s shirt.

“In my car. Didn’t want to seem like a fan girl waiting for you in the lobby or...what do they call the girls who just want to sleep with the players?”

“Bunnies. And damnit Beks, you are not any of those things that’s for sure.” Jon lifts Bekah up by her thighs and she whimpers.

“It’s been awhile Jon...” Bekah whispers in his ear her voice unsteady.

“I know. I’ve missed you and this.” He doesn’t let up pressing her against the door.

“I mean you are the last man I’ve slept with.” Bekah admits biting at her lip. Jon leans back to look her in the eyes. Her hazel green eyes looking for something.

“You think you aren’t the last woman I’ve been with?” Jon kisses her lips then pulls back making sure she’s hearing the words he’s saying. “Beks. I’ve only slept with you since the All-Star game in 15.”

“Seriously? But we aren’t...” Jon kisses her lips in desperation.

“Beks. Yes.” He kisses her again and she moans in his mouth. “Can we please get undressed? I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for way too long.” Jon carries Bekah to the bed and undresses her slowly. Taking time to praise her body and kiss every inch of exposed skin. Bekah does the same as he hovers above her. Loving the way that Jon’s muscles tighten under her touch. The connection between them is undeniable. Words no longer needed to find the perfect spot. The night is long and slow taking their time and enjoying each climax together.

“When does your playoff games start?” Bekah whispered as Jon spooned her.

“Uh...in a few days.” Jon kisses the shell of her ear. “Can we talk about this?” Jon’s fingers graze the left side of Bekah’s rib cage where the words Always yours were tattooed in a half cursive half print text. “This is definitely new.”

“Oh, um....yeah. I got a tattoo. Do you hate it?” Bekah’s fingers find Jon’s and interlaces hers with his as he continues to rub over the words.

“I like it. What’s it mean? If you want to share.” Jon pulls Bekah’s body further into his.

“I found an old birthday card from my grandpa around Christmas. He use to always sign my cards always yours, Gramps. That’s his handwriting.” Bekah spoke softly.

“That’s really special Beks. I’m just surprised you didn’t tell me.” Jon kisses her temple.

“You were thinking you were dying of the flu then pissed you sat out a game because of said flu. And then I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Oh hey. If we ever have sex again I have a tat.” Bekah winces bringing back her thoughts that have plagued her brain for most of the beginning of 2016.

“Well I’ve been thinking the same thing about if we’d be here again honestly. Minus the new ink part of course.” Jon admitted.

Their conversation continued until both fell asleep with their bodies intertwined. The next morning Jon was sitting on the bed when Bekah woke up.

“Babe, we gotta get going. I have a bus then plane to catch.” His lips graze hers.

“Sorry. Someone kept me up all night.” She stretches out her arms and wraps them around his neck.

“Yeah, wasn’t as tired just watching the game.” Jon chuckles. “Let’s get ya to your car and I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

The Blackhawks playoff run was short lived. They lost in seven. Bekah picks up her phone at the end of game 7.

Bekah: Text when you want to talk.

A few hours later she got a response.

Jon: Thanks Beks.

She didn’t hear from him all week and she didn’t text him again trying to give him space. Brynn tried to get her to go out for drinks after work but all Bekah wanted to do was curl up and watch mindless television. Pulling into her parking spot she noticed a man in the car next to her. Not really looking she got her bag and headed towards her door.

“Beks?” Jon’s voice echoed off the wall. She slowly turned around to see Jon standing with a bag slung over his shoulder about 10 yards from her.

“Holy shit! What are you doing here?” Bekah clutched her chest realizing how startled he made her.

“Uh...I went to the airport to head home and changed my ticket.” Jon closes the distance.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” She smacks at his chest and he captures her hand in place. “I haven’t heard from you since Monday.” Her eyes meet his and they were soft but intense.

“Sorry.” Was all he said but his face said there was more.

“Come in. If I knew you were coming I would have stocked my fridge for ya.” Bekah turns the key and they both kick off their shoes. Jon removes his bag and places it on the bench next to the entryway.

“It’s okay. We can order in or go out or whatever.”

“How long are you staying?” Bekah heads back to her room and Jon trails behind her sitting on her bed as she heads to the closet.

“Monday morning flight. I have some things to take care of at home. Plus Mom wants to celebrate my birthday.”

“Oh when is your birthday? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.” Bekah leans out of her closet pulling on one of Jon’s old shirts she kept.

“Um...today.” Jon admits.

“Jonathan Bryan Toews...TODAY is your birthday! Well we are going out for dinner. Hold on.” Bekah returns to her closest and finds a dress that is flirty but not too fancy and re-emerges.

“Damn Beks. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before.” Jon stands and wraps her up in his arms.

“Well, we don’t exactly see each other with clothes on frequently.” Bekah smirks up at him.

“True. So where are you taking me?” Jon kisses her lightly.

“Hmmmm. Oh! The Guild House! It’s newer and I’ve never been. Plus I’m sure your face can get us in if there is a wait.” Bekah rubs Jon’s freshly shaved face and pats. “28 looks good on ya Tae.”

“Thanks Babe, I’m starving. Let’s go.” Jon pulls Bekah under his arm and the two make their way to the Short North.

Dinner was easy and they easily slipped back into their comfortable rhythm. Bekah got annoyed when Jon refused to let her see or pay for the bill. He just laughed it off.

“I know why you love this city.” Jon looks around as the they made their way back to his rental. “It’s a big city but feels very small town too.”

“Best of both worlds really.” Bekah smiles watching Jon explore a part of the city he’s never been. “Chicago is amazing but you know that.”

“Yeah.” Jon breathes out as they reach the car.

By the time they hit Bekah’s door their need for each other was felt. Jon presses his body against Bekah and wraps his arm around her abdomen holding her it him as she struggles to get the key in the door. His breath hot on her neck. “Tae, you are getting birthday sex just let me get the door open please!” She looked up at him as his eyes danced.

“Birthday sex eh?” He let his hand go from her stomach and backs up a little.

“Go ahead and head to my room. I need some water. Need anything?” Bekah kisses him.

“Only you.” Jon smirks and kisses her forehead as he retreats to her room. Bekah felt the blush in her cheeks as she got a glass of ice water and walked into her room. Jon was comfortably laying in his boxer briefs and carefully moved her larger colorful pillows off the bed. “Those are new yes?” He eyes the pile and back to Bekah who was placing the water on her nightstand.

“Yes. They usually take of up that side of the bed.” She points where Jon is laying. And his eyebrow shoots up but he doesn’t say anything as Bekah pulls her dress over her head and climbs in next to Jon. He kisses her with his hand holding her in place. She breaks for air. “Do you trust me?”

“With everything Beks.” He whispers and she wiggles out of his grip, toes over to her dresser and opens her top dresser drawer pulling out one of his ties. “How do you have that?” His eyebrow raises.

“It’s yours. You left it at one point.” She smirks climbing in and straddling Jon. She leans down and kisses him hard. His breath hitches. “Ready birthday boy? No touching.” He nods and she ties the tie around his eyes. Kissing down his chest she eyes her water and reaches for a piece of ice. Lightly touching it to Jon’s chest.

“Woah. Fuck. That’s cold Babe.” He jumps and she laughs.

“My hockey man doesn’t like the cold? Odd...” she moves the ice down the center of his chest and his muscles retract in it’s wake. Jon mumbles something above her head. “You good there Tae?” He nods his head and Bekah takes in his clenched jaw and hands tightly gripped on pillow. Tracing his abs with the ice she licks and kisses the trail. Jon panting and his hips jolt up. Bekah hums as she works her way to his waistband and she slowly pulls down his briefs settles her self between his legs. Placing the remaining ice in her mouth she starts kissing up his thigh then kisses his tip. Jon jolts and swears as she slides her mouth over him.

“Damn that’s so hot but also very fucking cold Beks.” Jon huffs out. “Can I touch you yet?” He’s breathless with his request.

“Is that what the birthday boy wants?” She licks up his length and takes in how unglued he has become under her.

“Yes. Very much so.” She slides up his body and loosens the tie. Jon grabs her hand and removes it while leaning up to kiss her. “My turn!” He grunts and flips Bekah onto the mattress. Removing her bra and panties with ease, Jon eyes Bekah’s glass. He pulls an ice cube from it and places the cube in his mouth. Starting at her nipples, Bekah’s body jolts with the sensation. Jon hums in the satisfying way she moves under him. He drops the ice cube between her breast and follows with his tongue as it slides down her body then keeps going down to her core. Sucking hard eliciting moans with every move he makes. Forgetting the ice on her navel, Jon moves his body back up and kisses Bekah passionately as he slides deep inside her. Finally letting go of their built up highs and praising each other as they come down from the overstimulation.

“Happy birthday Captain.” Bekah breathes out trying to catch her breath.

“Maybe I would call you Captain after that Beks.” Jon laughs as he kisses her temple.

“Funny Tae.” She buries her face in his chest. “I’m gonna need to change the sheet. You melted an ice cube on my stomach.” Bekah giggles as she feels the wet below her hip.

“Or just roll over.” Jon moves her body with ease and kisses the top of her head as she’s on his chest. “Come to Sedona with me this summer.” Jon whispers.

“What?” She says in his chest.

“We’ve both talked about how we love hiking and well...I have a trip planned before Worlds...and you should come with me.”

“Uh...Jon.” Bekah sits up and slides off him.

“Yes Beks.” His voices is soft as he brushes her hair out of her face.

“Jon, what are we?” Bekah leans further away from him to look deep into his brown eyes.

“What kind of question is that?” Jon’s nose scrunches up.

“Well we clearly are friends.” Bekah starts.

“Yes, the best of.” Jon finds her hand and intertwines his fingers wiggling them.

“And the sex is amazing...” Bekah closes her eyes with that unfinished statement.

“I fully concur.” Jon moans to verify his agreement.

“But what do you call this? What’s it’s title?” She motions between them.

“Does it need a name Babe?” Jon kisses her lips.

“I mean...We just...I don’t know Tae. I guess no.” Bekah huffs out.

“So back to my original question. Sedona....end of June? Yes?” Jon nudges her.

“Sounds doable.” Bekah laughs

“Doable huh? You know what’s doable?” Jon moves on top of her with a look that tells her she’s in for it.

“Poor choice of words I guess.” Jon laughs and dips down below the sheets. “Or not.”

#what’s in a name fic #WIAN #tazer me 19 #jonathan toews fic #toews tuesdays #j toews fic #jonathan toews #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️

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dawniebb · 4 years

Text

Collateral Damage Pt.1

So, continuing with the journey @healing-winston-pratt and I have decided to take to rise Winston and Callum from the death, here’s another fic, and this time is about Winston :) This one is a full collaboration, meaning we both wrote this, so we hope you enjoy it XD

Part 2 will be uploaded by her soon.

You can fin the canon divergence explanation here.

And Callum’s fic is here

THERE’S MILD SELF HARM MENTIONS IN HERE

When Winston woke up, all he could see were the lights. Blindingly bright lights. And he stared at the ceiling for a while, because he didn’t know what else to do besides waiting until the rest of his senses responded to him.

His gaze remained fixated on those lights; later, he began to smell; and his surroundings were penetrated with a latex odor, combined with chlorine and something putrid… in the sense that everything smelled like blood and wounds. That is, in case wounds had a characteristic smell to them. To Winston’s view, they did. Everything had a smell, just like everything could be related with a specific color.

But that was just him, maybe.

Then he started to hear. And he heard the worried, hesitant chattering all around him. People screaming orders, people screaming as they followed those orders; people bawling; people in a deep state of distress calling some person’s name; he heard questions, some of them empty, routinary ones and others filled with much more substance, meant to subtract more specific details about something.

Then he started touching, although he didn’t touch anything; he just felt the sheets beneath him, and the uncomfortable mattress and the cold structure of the hospital bed.

A hospital bed.

A hospital.

And a very...broken hospital.

The building seemed fine, of course. But the place...not so much.

From what Winston could tell, he was in the ICU, but he wasn’t the only one in his room. Not even two or three. He could hear more voices; he could see the doctors and nurses’ shoes through the small pace at the bottom of the blue curtain.

A very blue and stained curtain (Stained of what? Winston didn’t want to know).

What the heck had happened?

How come a hospital was this...neglected, with such questionable sanitary conditions?

And it’s not that he’d been in a hospital many times, but he knew they were supposed to be a clean and safe place.

And why the hell was he in a hospital bed?

Who had put him here?

Winston groaned, his eyes moving around the reduced space he was in.

Slowly, he tried to get into a sitting position, but a sharp pain ambushed him at his side; he then felt and saw the IV cannula in his hand, and Winston knew he should’ve expected it to be there, as distracted as he was.

This really was happening. Right here and right now. And yet, when a nurse came to monitor his vital signs, Winston felt as lost as ever, as if he were still asleep or trapped inside a void.

The woman didn’t say anything to him, besides asking how was he doing, of course. And from what Winston could see, she must’ve been a voluntary nurse. Probably a nurse-in-training, as she wasn’t wearing a uniform, just a plain white shirt and jeans. Still, she appeared to know what she was doing, so he didn’t feel too worried about her.

After taking some notes, the nurse left, and that’s when Winston faced his therapist, doctor Blake.

And he had never been so relieved to see her face.

Not even when he was having a bad day and really needed to talk to her.

Because right now she was basically the only person he could recognize among the crowd.

“Hi.” He greeted her in a hoarse voice, as the woman sat by the chair next to him, calm.

“Hello, sir.” She greeted back. Her face looked tired, but she still managed to direct a half-smile at him. “I’m going to make you some questions now, okay?”

Weird.

Very weird, but okay.

Winston nodded in response.

“Do you know what’s your name? Can you remember that?”

Winston frowned.

“Pratt. Winston Pratt.”

“Good. How old are you?”

“28…” Then he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. 29”

“When did you turn 29?”

“I...I know all of that. I do remember.”

“But can you tell me?”

Winston clicked his tongue.

“April 1st. Can you tell me what happened, please?”

“Can you?” The doctor narrowed her eyes, although her voice was still soothing and comforting. “Do you remember what happened, Mr. Pratt? Anything?”

Was he supposed to remember something?

Winston’s frown deepened at the same time he squeezed his brain in order to reach for whatever memory he was supposed to be looking for.

But he still felt kind of heavy and dizzy, and a sudden pulse appeared on his temples, so Winston had to shut his eyes and take a deep breath to make it disappear.

“It’s ok.” He heard Dr. Blake. “You can take all the time you need.”

“I know.”

He gulped, trying harder to concentrate.

Then he remembered nervousness and anxiety. Sweaty palms and cheeks tired of being constantly smiling. Clearing his throat more than once to avoid speaking in his usual high pitched voice.

“My speech.” He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling one more time. “I was about to give… No. I’m pretty sure I gave a speech at… The Arena?

“You’re right.” Dr. Blake slowly nodded. “What else can you tell me?”

“I gave my speech and then… Then…”

His head was filled with static, like a TV screen with dancing black and white dots, mimicking the sound and feeling of a blizzard.

He could touch and even smell the fabric of his suit. New. And there was the loud static again. Inside of his head and out of it.

Then he saw the little paper thingies flying right by people’s faces, dancing to the sound of the static.

Paper thingies.

Figures.

And that frustrating, obnoxious sound that refused to go away.

Wait a minute.

It was only then that Winston realized he wasn’t hearing static. He was hearing…

“Bees?”

He was so used to bees. They buzzed in sync with Honey’s emotions and flew around his precious sweets like greedy flies. Sometimes they were so annoying that he wanted to use some of Leroy’s plaguicides to get rid of them. Other times, he couldn’t care less about their presence.

“Did they…” he turned to face Dr. Blake again. “...attack us?”

“That’s correct. The Anarchists were spotted alongside a group of prodigies who called themselves The Rejects. Have you ever worked with them?”

“I have not even heard of them.”

“You and the rest of the city”. She smiled briefly before it faded again. “The bees contained Agent N, resulting in a lot of neutralized Renegades and so many deaths.”

“What?”

Then the flashbacks hit him.

There were tons and tons of bees buzzing and flying and stinging everything that moved.

There were people screaming and powers being shouted. He heard whistles and explosions and a bull’s cry. He smelled soaked dirt and melted candy and smoke.

He saw lots of colors at the same time, because the world started to spin and didn’t stop until he was able to stand from the ground, only to do a double take at a girl that seemed to be holding a weapon.

“Do you remember anything else, Mr. Pratt?”

It was a crossbow.

With a frozen dagger.

And goddamnit.

That girl’s eyes were so full of rage.

So much rage. So much…

Winston wasn’t one to talk about this… But he could tell she was also so, so full of pain.

“The bees…” Winston scoffed, covering his eyes as he laughed. “T-the...Queen Bee. She…she hated anything that wasn’t yellow, black or golden.”

BANG. BANG.

And it was like...an epiphany. Those hateful eyes full of pain, fusing with that other pair of blue eyes, also full of hate; full of grief; full of pain; full of…

Of lies.

“....but she wore so much red. Because she looked good in red.”

The white strips of hair trapped between her fingers.

Bang.

Over and over again, against the floor.

Jesus.

The smell of iron in the air.

Iron and...honey.

Blood and bees.

Winston shook his head, trying to breathe normally. He could feel his eyes more open than they should’ve been, as he stared at the ceiling. At the lights.

As he saw those blue eyes, while a sharp pain took over his whole body.

She was shaking with so much violence Winston thought she was about to explode, her tiny hand in the open, bleeding wound. Just like that time he had put a band-aid on her knee.

He thought that would be the last time he saw those blue eyes, because nobody died because of a bleeding knee.

However, many people died because of a wound like this.

That girl. White as snow. And her icicle.

An icicle so pointy she stabbed him with it.

But it was originally being aimed at…

“Nova” He screeched, looking desperately into Dr. Blake’s eyes. “Where’s Nova?”

-.-

The next time he woke up, Winston was sure he was not supposed to forget what he was dreaming; however, it was already fading into the void.

He knew he had to remember something, but he didn’t knew what exactly.

His stomach growled, and though he couldn’t recall the last time (or heck, even the last thing) he ate, Winston didn’t feel like asking for food.

Not that he could see if someone was available anyway.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t, and he hated when that happened so he just remained lying, suddenly remembering that his ‘dream’ was not a dream, but a conversation.

Fuck.

He really had messed it up, hadn’t he?

First shouting Nova’s identity at the Arena, and now again but in a hospital, right in his therapist’s face.

More than once.

Winston banged his head against the pillow, thinking about how Nova was probably under arrest at this moment, and all because of him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stu--

The curtain moved and the same nurse appeared, this time wearing a proper uniform, though she looked more tired than the last time he saw her.

“Sir, you need to stop or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

In that very moment, Winston took a closer look on her. Now that he was more awake, he realized she actually was younger than he had initially thought, despite looking exhausted right now.

Once again, she took his vital signs, without small talk. And then, after asking if he needed something (to which Winston answered he didn’t) she left.

Then doctor Blake came into the room, and Winston felt as if this were the post-neutralization period all over again, which was...a pretty awful thing if you thought about it. Of course, therapy had been very useful, but that didn’t change the fact the post-neutralization period remained as one of his most unpleasant memories ever, and said memory was characterized by Doctor Blake coming into his cell over and over.

Just like she was doing now.

However, she must have noticed Winston was more focused now, because she just sat with her notebook on her lap and took a deep breath before speaking.

“How are you feeling, Winston?”

Those words were enough to make his upper lip quiver. He blinked with pain. However, his first impulse was still to ask the Doctor for help, because he had been in a lying position for so long his back was starting to hurt; careful, she grabbed him by the arm and helped him up: then, she placed some pillows behind his back so the effort to hold his body that way would be less.

“Is that better?”

Winston nodded, trying to breathe normally. The bandages were wrapped around the wound were tight and sort of painful, even.

But he was alive.

That...was supposed to be a good thing, wasn’t it?

“Mr. Pratt?”

“...Yes?”

“A tragedy happened last night.” Doctor Blake spoke slowly. “Like I already mentioned, we were attacked by a group of prodigies that called themselves The Rejects, short after your speech at the arena.”

He could recall that. His speech. The bees. The panic.

“Many lives were lost, and due to the Agent N that the bees carried, many Renegades and civilian prodigies lost their special abilities. However, there was another incident reported in the first hours of the morning.”

“Fuck, no. Please.”

“The Rejects moved towards the Cathedral, taking Ace Anarchy with them, and after a couple of hours, there was a phenomenon that has been denominated the Supernova.”

Nova.

“The cause for this strange event is still unknown, as we are yet to obtain a confession of the parties involved. Nevertheless...there were some...repercussions.”

And he didn’t want to know what those were, but he knew she was going to tell him anyway.

So fuck it.

The doctor sighed.

“After said Supernova, all non-prodigy individuals acquired….prodigy features.”

He heard her words, although he didn’t comprehend them.

Not until a minute had passed, at least.

And Winston scoffed.

“Wow, that’s so shitty.” He said, almost amused.

Almost.

“Good thing they had already taken mine.”

Dr. Blake remained straight-faced, and Winston’s half smile quickly faded.

Then he felt it.

No.

It couldn’t be.

It was all on his mind.

Winston looked at his palms, wondering when they had started trembling.

He tried to gulp but it seemed that he had forgotten how to do it.

His heart raced.

His breath quickened.

And when he saw his fingertips as they started to ghostly glow with yellow, his hands clenched into fists to turn it off.

His vision became a blur.

His palms ached due to his nails digging in the soft flesh.

He could no longer hear Dr. Blake, for an endless “beep” resonated inside his ears and filled his head.

His hands went right to his face with the only purpose to scratch the hell out of the makeup that Winston was so fucking sure was there again.

He wanted to whip it out.

Make it disappear.

He didn’t want it.

He didn’t…

He didn’t feel it fading, no matter how many hot tears rolled down his face in an attempt to wash it out.

Just like he didn’t feel the spark dissipate.

The prodigy spark that burned in his insides like a torch. Bright and scorching and suffocating.

A spark that consumed him like that the oxygen the fire needed to keep burning. A spark that didn’t let him breathe until it was gone.

But it had lightened up again.

So all that he could do, was scream.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #TW: SELF HARM MENTIONS #Winston Pratt #I REFUSE TO TAG HIS ALIAS #BC BABY DOESN'T LIKE IT ANYMORE OKAY #Nova Artino #Nightmare #Insomnia #Genissa Clark #fucking frostbitch #this was fun just because we wrote it together not because we had fun coming up with the idea #but everyone recovered their powers remember?#renegades #archenemie #supernova #SELF HARM I REPEAT #trigger warning self harm

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pascalls · 4 years

Note

Huzzah! A romance prompt:

Hot Chocolate

I finally wrote something for this and it’s so dumb but I hope you all enjoy it. Featuring Charlie, Sam the Barfly, and Moe (and also Barney a little bit).

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

With the taste of malt liquor stale on his tongue, Charlie found himself coming back to consciousness, a musky scent filling his nose and making him want to gag. The greasy floor he was laying on was hard and uncomfortable, having left his bones aching and his back feeling like he’d just been hit by a car. His eyes opened, despite his brain not wanting to, and for once, he was thankful that the lighting in Moe’s was subpar, at best. The dusty interior was not an aggravated assault on the senses, but still, he would have liked to have woken up in a bed instead of on the hard tile.

“Ugh… What time is it,” he groaned, not yet sitting up, but at least trying to peer over to where Moe was hovering, lazily wiping down the bar top with an overused rag. There was no way it was morning yet. Or, at least, it wasn’t past sunrise. Otherwise Moe would be pouring vodka into his bowl of Froot Loops. It didn’t seem like he’d gone to bed yet.

“Two-thirty,” the bartender responded. He didn’t seem very bothered by the fact that Charlie had passed out on the floor. Not like it was the first time. As of late, the hybrid had a bad habit of finding some kind of substance, chasing it with his body weight in whiskey, and then promptly falling asleep before he could make it back to the reverend’s. “You slept with Barney.”

“I what-?!” Charlie exclaimed, pushing himself up, only to whack his head on the underside of the table he’d holed up under. His ears rang and he groaned again, reaching up to rub at his scalp. Ow.

“Oh. Hah. Sorry. I meant you fell asleep under the table next to Barney.”

Charlie glanced over to see that Moe was correct. Barney had somehow rolled off the bar stool he’d been sitting on a few hours prior, passing out unceremoniously underneath the large circular table that was neighbor to Charlie’s. The hybrid muttered to himself before eventually crawling out from under his sleeping spot, making his way over to the bar to sit and glaring at Moe.

“Don’t ever scare me like that ever again.”

They weren’t alone. While Barney had opted for a nap, Charlie recognized a few others still lingering in the wee hours of the morning. He assumed both Lenny and Carl had staggered home not too long ago, but both Larry and Sam remained, neither seeming to be very invested in their own consciousness. As was the usual. Charlie’s stare lingered for just a moment before Moe was pulling his attention back.

“You wanna nightcap?” He asked, already in the process of grabbing a nearby bottle which Charlie quickly refused. His stomach was churning a bit from his previous binge. He didn’t need to lose everything he’d eaten during the day on top of his splitting headache and exhaustion.

“No, m’fine. I should probably… go before somebody gets on my ass about not being where I need to be.”

“Alright, but you better not be drivin’.” Moe pointed at the hybrid with a squint; one that Charlie returned in kind.

“I don’t have a car.”

“I figured you’d steal one.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because that’s what I’d do.”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie scooted off the stool and made his way to the door, passing the other two men briefly and giving them a passing wave. He’d talked to the pair once or twice. They were wordier when they were drunk, but only just so. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Charlie reminded himself, that Sam knew a little more about Charlie by pure happenstance. Thankfully, he’d remained fairly quiet about that too.

Swinging open the door, Charlie took a few steps outside before he realized - a little too late - that rain was coming down fairly heavily. There was no wind to carry it in one direction or another, the drops simply pouring onto the pavement and soaking Charlie entirely. The hybrid stared dully into the distance. This might as well happen.

He didn’t move from where he was, just sort of standing there on the sidewalk and feeling his clothes get more and more soaked through. His brain didn’t seem to think that was much of an issue, but his feet refused to carry him in the direction of home. Instead, he continued to stare into nothingness, exhaustion - and a sudden heavy veil of listlessness - keeping him rooted to the spot. Somewhere along the line, he began to realize that his temperature was dropping. That was probably not good. He’d have to fix that before long.

“...You’re gettin’ all wet.”

The voice pulled him back to the present, turning and noticing that Sam and Larry had finally made their way out of Moe’s, presumably to retire for the night before they too passed out next to Barney. Larry was already walking away, his jacket collar pulled up in a fruitless effort to protect him from the rain. Sam, on the other hand, at least had an umbrella keeping him dry as he stared at Charlie with some manner of concern.

“...Uh. Yeah. I guess I am,” Charlie replied, blinking once or twice and then glancing down at himself. Hm. Well. Yeah. He was wet. Wow.

Sam glanced around briefly before taking a few steps over and placing the umbrella over the both of them. As he spoke, his words slurred, but Charlie didn’t notice over his own foggy state of mind. “You’re not some kinda marine iguana or somethin’ right? I think they like water. Saw it on uh… Mm… That… science… channel once.”

“National Geographic?” Charlie asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Nah…” Sam replied. “ESPN 2.”

The hybrid snorted in amusement. “No. I’m not a marine iguana. I’m just… really drunk, I think.” Among other things. He’d taken some mixture of pills that he would not recommend to anyone else. But they would make their way out of his system eventually. “Uh… Thanks. For the…” He gestured to the umbrella.

“Honestly, this weather ain’t great for walking. Y’think Moe’s got anything to eat in there?”

Charlie seemed to give that some thought. It was already the middle of the night. And if Lovejoy wasn’t blowing up his phone by now, the chances of him noticing any time before sunrise was slim. He hummed a little under his breath before shrugging. It was probably best he filled his stomach with something other than booze and pills.

“Let’s ask.”

Sam didn’t need much convincing himself before he moved to keep them marginally dry as they wandered back into the bar. Moe had been in the process of trying to roll Barney over with a broom so he could sweep up underneath him, but glanced up when the door opened again. Charlie shook the water from himself as best as he could, but it was to little avail. He’d probably just need to wait until he was dry.

Closing the umbrella, Sam tossed it against the wall near the door and settled himself back on the stool where he’d been before, Charlie scooting up and onto the one next to him. As long as Barney was passed out, the hybrid took some time to pull off his mask and other effects which were fairly soaked through, placing them on the stool next to him and breathing out a little sigh. Moe had seen him a few times by now. It seemed like more and more people knew what he looked like as time went on. At that particular moment, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Tell me you’ve got something to eat,” Charlie asked as Moe drifted back over, looking over the rain-soaked man with some scrutiny.

“I’ve got uh… Probably some Spam sitting around somewhere. Lemme look.”

“I’m having a hard time turning that down.” Charlie wasn’t going to be picky. And apparently, neither was Sam, as the man said nothing.

Moe disappeared in the back room for a time, clattering around among his shelves and god knew what else. Charlie watched as a roach slid out from the doorway and promptly disappeared into the nearest electrical socket. There was a little buzz, a hiss, and the roach did not re-emerge. The hybrid assumed that whatever it saw in the back room was heinous enough for the little bug to end it all.

“Well lookee here!” Moe proclaimed as he re-emerged, holding a half-empty jug of milk and a bottle of chocolate syrup that looked like it came from the 70’s. “It ain’t Spam, but it’s somethin’, huh? Check this out.”

“Chocolate milk?” Sam asked, staring at the bartender.

“Nah. Even better.” Moe brought over the ingredients, pouring the milk into a few glasses and squirting the chocolate… syrup (it looked more like sauce at this point) into it soon after. He then held up each mug in turn, using a lighter to heat up the bottom of the glass before plopping a few stale marshmallow Peeps that were sad and dull from their time spent hidden somewhere in the cabinets beneath the bar. Presumably from Easter. ...This past Easter, hopefully.

Pleased with himself, Moe offered two of the glasses to Charlie and Sam who stared at the brown concoction that was making short work of dissolving those Peeps into rainbow mush that floated at the top of the layer of milk. “See? Hot cocoa! PERFECT for them rainy days like this one.” As if to sell the mixture, he took a long swig of his own, choking back the drink with a few hacked coughs and then offering his two patrons a grimacing smile. “Eh? EH?!”

Charlie squinted down at his own before coming to the conclusion that… he really didn’t even care what he put into his own body at this point. And the chocolate DID smell at least a little enticing. So with a little glance at Sam and a shrug, he upended his own into his mouth. It was not great. In fact, one might even say that it was terrible. The milk was absolutely close to spoiling, if not already spoiled, and the Peeps floated around in his mouth in chunky bits. But he downed the drink dutifully. It was warm, if nothing else. And it’d keep him from drifting off into a hypothermic coma.

“...It’s great, Moe,” Charlie replied once he was able to say anything about it at all. A blatant lie, but the bartender was content with the review. The hybrid just hoped he wouldn’t put it on his ‘menu’ as a permanent addition.

“Uh… yeah. Really… great.” Sam added, having had a bit of a harder time with his own, but he too didn’t find it very necessary to spoil Moe’s spirits. But the two shared a knowing glance, watching as Moe, triumphant that he’d created something worthwhile for once in his life, scurried off to write down his ‘recipe’.

Charlie pushed his empty glass away, poking his tongue out a little in disgust. Egh. “We can never tell him.”

Sam did the same with his own, wishing that he’d just ordered another beer instead. “...Yeah, I’m on board with that.”

“And so the pact is sealed,” Charlie joked, reaching up with a hand to offer his pinky claw to the other. “I would say we should seal it in blood, but I’m already suffering with this aftertaste.”

Sam offered a little smirk before reaching up to hook his own pinky with Charle’s. “Takin’ it to the grave.”

Their hands remained touching for a few seconds, a delayed reaction only bringing Charlie’s back to himself after a prolonged met gaze, his eyes flicking away in mild embarrassment. He was drunk. They were both drunk. Reaching up, Charlie absently ran a hand through his hair to try and make it a little more… presentable. He wasn’t sure why.

Well. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t sure why.

Moe’s return chased away the moment. He’d come back with more random ‘ingredients’ he’d found in the back storeroom.

Charlie and Sam gave a few little groans. Had Charlie known they’d be given the job as taste-testers, he might have just walked back to Lovejoy’s in the storm.

But… he wasn’t alone here. Even if he’d never get the taste of stale Peeps off his tongue, he at least felt content with the knowledge that there was a warmth keeping him from drifting too far into the cold loneliness of the rain.

Yeah. This was better.

#tj talk #tj writes #oc #simpsona #axe bosk #spooky-simp

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pixelatedrose · 5 years

Text

Soulbound Part Seven

First | Previous | Part 7 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word Count: 2,788

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: Uncensored swearing, nightmares, mention of implied self harm (skip from “It had been another nightmare” to the end of the paragraph.), slight self deprecation, if I missed anything at all please please��tell me, and if there’s anything you’d like me to tag, don’t hesitate to ask!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 7

Logan Rose woke up with a bit of a start. He glanced around his room wildly, everything appearing fuzzy without his glasses. He calmed himself down before pulling the cord on his bedside lamp and examining his arm.

It was bare and pale as always, save for his tattoo that depicted Patton's name.

Despite everything, Logan let out a shaky breath. He knew it was illogical. And that only bothered him more.

It's just a dream, Logan. Nothing is wrong. Logan picked up a book on the ground in spite of himself and began reading. However he found- as he always did- that he was unable to read much further than a few pages.

"It's just a dream...It was nothing but amalgamated memories and images…It wasn't...It can't have been…" Logan took another deep breath to steady himself.

And once again resorted to the only method that ever seemed to work.

He flipped open a small journal and began writing down his dream with as much detail as possible.

It had been another nightmare. He had been sobbing on the floor of a foreign room before dragging himself over to an all too familiar box under the bed where he fished out a pencil sharpener blade and had-

Logan paused for a moment in his writing. He always hated writing about his nightmares. It was necessary for him to fall back asleep, but it was so hard sometimes.

Every once in a while Logan Rose had acutely vivid dreams about ordinarily mundane things that didn't seem to make sense.

Seeing people he'd never seen before at a birthday party he'd never attended.

A dark room that slowly got edgier as time wore on filled with a multitude of different events. Most of them less than savory and quite traumatic.

A kid, taller than Logan, pushing him to the ground and pulling him back up by his hair only to have someone else spit in his face.

These dreams made no sense to Logan. Dreams were supposed to be concoctions of memories, images, ideas, and emotions. Logan's brain should not be able to create such a vivid image of a house he'd never seen before. And yet Logan would have remembered if he'd ever seen the odd house with the strange yellow door that his mind so often brought up.

Logan finished writing down his nightmare in his dream journal and set it down once again, rubbing his tired eyes. He glanced over at one of his many bookcases, sighing at the vast amount of dream journals he had filled up over the years.

He had started cataloging his dreams back in fourth grade when his mother had suggested that writing about his dreams would help him remember them and even sleep better. So now Logan had nearly 6 years worth of journals filled to the brim with dream after dream after dream. Even if he could never remember what he had dreamed that night, he always wrote down that he was unable to recall any details.

Logan lay himself back down to sleep as he quietly pondered his vivid dreams and what they could possibly mean, if anything at all.

That's absolutely ludicrous. Dreams don't mean anything. They're just dreams. As he drifted off once again, Logan found himself with a ghost of doubt cast across his mind.

Just dreams…

Logan Rose fell asleep, his mind conjuring up recipes that called for memories, images, sounds, ideas, and emotions.

~~•~~

Roman woke up to his alarm which he lazily slapped, sending it snoozing. Five minutes later it started yelling again, and this time Roman reluctantly rolled himself out of bed. Quite literally in fact. He had found it always helped him wake up.

He hit the floor dramatically and lay down on the floor for a few minutes staring at his ceiling.

Roman suddenly was struck by a brilliant idea and he sat up straight and got ready for the day as quick as possible.

"Heya Ro-Bro! Sleep like a corpse?" Remus asked as Roman came down the stairs.

"Why would you phrase it like that? Like actually why??"

"Because it's interesting and you're boring so i have to be interesting for the both of us!!"

Roman watched his twin brother sprinkle poptart crumbs into the omelet he was cooking and grimaced. "Well you sure do a good job of that one…"

"Hey, Ro, have you seen the dandelions?"

Roman paused for a brief moment. "Why the fuck are you eating dandelions?"

"You absolute shitheaded moron it's for Brigit."

Roman flushed. "Oh." He had been thinking of Virgil again and his head was still mushy from sleep. "In the fridge…"

Remus turned and pulled out a small bag of dandelions before hopping over to a glass tank which contained a small tortoise. "Roman's an idiot, isn't he Brigit? Isn't he?" Remus cooed at his tortoise, dropping three of the four flowers in along with a small pile of lettuce before looking at the fourth flower and asking out loud. "Hey, dandelions are edible, right??"

And before Roman had time to violently judge his brother, Remus shoved the entire fucking flower in his mouth like the absolute heathen he was.

"Hey, not too bad." Roman's trash-man of a brother said, walking over to his slowly burning food.

"I swear to god I don't know how we're related…" Roman muttered, returning his mind to a much more savory person.

~~•~~

Roman got to school and met up with his friends. He debated skipping a few steps in his plan and looking for him right then, but decided against it. He didn't want to come off seeming like a creep.

So he waited until his third period rolled around and felt his eyes light up as they fell to the emo boy scrunched up in the back corner of the classroom. Something was definitely brighter about Virgil today. Maybe it was the new hoodie he was wearing or the fresh makeup on his face, or perhaps it was the way he looked rested or the fact that he was nodding along to his music and silently mouthing the words, but Roman was unreasonably happy to see Virgil in a good mood.

“Good morning, Hot Topic! You’re looking splendid today!” Roman bubbled, winking at the mass of emo that sat at the table.

Virgil snorted and looked up at him. “Aw, you think I’m hot!”

“On the contrary! I was talking to my reflection!”

“Ah, that makes more sense. I put too much faith in you to think you’d ever stop being self-absorbed!”

“Hey! You’ve only known me for what, two days?”

Virgil shifted in his seat, having taken out his earbuds already. “I tend to be a pretty good judge of character.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Roman took his chance to strike. “Well I bet you wouldn’t be able to judge my friend’s characters off of one glance!” Roman smiled at Virgil, missing the way the other’s shoulders relaxed when he spoke. “Want to join me with my friends at lunch?”

Roman patiently awaited the inevitable decline. It was part of his plan. He would laugh it off and be charming as ever and continue to pester him until he-

“Sure.” Virgil said casually, a hint of a smile on his face.

What.

“You seem like a cool guy, I guess. Should I meet you by the cafeteria?”

Roman’s head was a jumbled mess and where he had been planning on being charming, he had fallen end over end down the stairs of grace and was drowning in his own pool of poor planning.

“Uh, uhm, n-no I’ll just meet you outside your class!” Roman had just barely been able to save the end of that sentence. He had not expected the emo boy to accept his offer so quickly. He thought the boy was shy and reserved, didn’t like talking to people. Curiosity to know what made the emo boy trust him overtook Roman. “Would it be terribly rude of me to ask why you’d want to come and eat with a bunch of people you hardly know?”

Virgil shrugged. “I dunno. I just kinda…” He turned and pulled up his hood. “Feel like I can trust you. I also don’t really have anyone else, so I mean I don’t have many options.” he lowered his voice to the point where Roman wouldn’t have been able to hear the emo. “And if I at least look like I have friends maybe people will leave me alone this time around…”

It worked and Roman hadn’t heard his breathless whisper. “Oh! Well I’m touched! In fact I think-”

Ding!! Ding!! Ding!!

Damn that bell.

Class began and Roman didn’t get the chance to mention that he and Patton shared a class. A minor detail, but he was irrationally disappointed that he couldn’t keep talking to his newfound...Friend.

Roman thought. Friend? Am I not jumping the gun by considering us friends this early on? What would Virgil think? Would he be okay with it? Would he be disgusted? Roman’s mind filled with the image of Roman calling the boy his friend and Virgil smiling widely, happy to be his friend. Roman let himself smile too.

The period ended and Roman said his farewells to Virgil. Roman pulled out his phone between classes and brought up the group chat.

Hey I’m bringing a friend of mine to come and sit with us at lunch kk

It was just a few moments before his phone buzzed quietly in his hands.

Pat-man: OOOooooOOOooOOoo~~!!

Pat-man: A *friend* you say? *nudge nudge wink wink*

Each of his texts were signed with a series of emojis, ranging from hearts to faces.

Roman typed out a text, leaning against the wall outside his classroom.

Yes Padre, a FRIEND

Nothing more than that! I swear you rwad into things way to much

His Phone buzzed again and Roman looked at the new text.

Pocket-protector: First off, you misspelled 'Read' and second, you used the wrong 'Too'. Third, if you're speaking of the boy you have gone on about for the past two days, then-

The bell rang and Roman silently thanked it for saving him the time to read Logan's perfectly composed letter of a text filled with perfect grammar.

The hours ebbed by anguishingly slow, it seemed the more he wanted to see the pale boy the more the weights the universe attached to time's ankles.

Finally- finally- the hour struck three minutes till the bell and Roman silently excused himself knowing that the abandoned hall pass in his pocket that would free him of suspicion.

He got to Virgil’s classroom just in time for the bell to ring and for Roman to quickly lean himself up against the lockers casually.

Virgil walked out and seemed almost surprised to see Roman standing there before a ghost of a smile adorned his pale face.

“Honestly, you don’t have to skip out of class early just to wait for me.” Virgil said as he walked up to the taller boy.

“I know, but it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to leave my new friend wandering through the halls with no guide!” Roman smiled and the pair started walking towards the cafeteria.

“And so that would make you my knight in shining armor?” Virgil teased.

“No, I like to think of myself as more of a prince.”

Virgil snorted back his laughter. “But I thought they gave princes education! They’re doing a miserable job rearing you.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Jerky Mcjerk-face.”

“Ouch! Is that the best comeback you have for me, Princey?” Before, Virgil had called Roman by the theatrical nickname in a friendly manner, now his tone was mocking him, a soundless giggle twinkling in his blue eyes.

Roman hrumphed and crossed his arms. “Sometimes I’m not entirely on point with my words! I’m human! Even someone as flawless as me can make mistakes!”

Virgil barked out a short laugh. “Ha!! Flawless! I should bring you up on charges for false advertising!”

“Then maybe I should do the same with you, Surly-Temple! You’re not as shy as you seem, are you?”

“Who ever said I was shy? I just don’t like people.”

“Oh…” Roman internally cursed at his lack of words. He had jumped to conclusions. It was a simple mistake, but it reminded Roman of another thing he should try and fix. He shook it off easily. “Well in that case I’m sure you’ll have no problem introducing yourself to my friends!” He led Virgil through the thick of the now bustling and ever so loud cafeteria to a table in the back near one of the backdoors leading outside. It was a small circular table, like all the others in the room, perfect for a friend group to claim and have no one else intrude.

Patton and Logan were already sitting down and chatting about what sounded like the emotional and psychological repercussions of being torn from your dimension and being thrown into another. A very fascinating topic to say the least.

“Hey, Padre! Pocket protector!” Roman announced as they neared the table. Roman noticed out of the corner of his eye Virgil throwing up his hood. “I must introduce to you all, a one Virgil Sanders!” Roman theatrically bowed and gestured toward the purple haired boy next to him.

Patton stood up immediately and flounced over to the boy. “Hi!! My name’s Patton, but you can just call me Dad!!” He said with a wink as he held out his hand for Virgil to shake. Virgil seemed to relax as he took the sorter boy’s hand in his.

“Virgil. It’s nice to meet you, Patton.” He smiled lightly.

Logan had stood as well, letting Virgil come to him. “Logan Rose. A pleasure.” He said politely, extending his own hand. Vigil accepted it and the group started to settle in.

“You know, Virgil, I think I have the same second period as you!” Patton slipped in as they started taking their seats.

Virgil seemed to think for a brief second. “Oh, I guess so. I guess nice to re-meet you, then.” He slowly took off his hood and faced Patton who was seated across from him. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you, I tend to not pay attention to stuff like that.”

“It’s fine! I think it’s great we have a class together! It means less boring moments in the day!”

Logan was staring at Virgil and he started speaking. “You know, You look familiar to me as well...Do we not share a fifth class together? Ap English in Mr. Evan’s class, if I am correct?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh...Yeah...So I guess I have a class with each of you then...What are the odds?” Virgil gave a small laugh.

“Infinitesimal.” Logan replied before biting into his sandwich.

“Oh speaking of which, do you remember what was taught yesterday? I was trying to do my homework and sort of forgot what he’d said…”

“I remember absolutely nothing but I do remember he was wearing a pink shirt with a green belt and was disgusted, I mean I may not be one for fashion, but even I know that was a horrific choice.”

The table erupted into several different kinds of laughter. A loud booming one from Patton, a softer but clear one provided by Roman, and a light chuckle emitted by Virgil.

Lunch wore on and It seemed like Virgil really connected with everyone.

He was in a brighter mood for the rest of the day as he walked off with Logan, discussing fan theories about doctor who and Sherlock, and then happier still when he met up with Roman in the theater and got to have his older brother teach him for what seemed like the first actual time.

And as Virgil bid his farewells, Roman called out to him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Virge!!” He yelled across the courtyard, waving happily at his new friend.

“Cya!!” Virgil called back, feeling happy and warm inside.

Virgil had never even had friends before, and for some reason, having only just met them a few hours ago, felt like these friends were ones that were going to last. He felt so right when he was with them. It felt so right when he would hear Logan talking about one subject or another, or when Patton made a dad joke or pun, or when Roman did something charmingly stupid or funny. It felt right being with them.

And for someone who’s never felt right in their life, Virgil felt as though it was all too much to actually be real.

But for once, He didn't worry about that.

Author’s note:

Oh wow! Would you look at that! I’m way early!! I legit thought I wasn’t going to get this done in time because I stopped writing for like two days cause one: I wanted to write a special valentines day mini fic (Link here!) and then two: I was away from my computer and had very tiny motivation. Anyway I hope you guys appreciate my earliness, and note that this probably won’t happen too often. Stay fresh and minty my lovelies!!

Tag list

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navykangaroo59 · 3 years

Text

Crushes

Wolfstar (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin)

Word count: 4k

Warnings: no warnings apply :)

Summary: Remus Lupin didn’t ‘do’ crushes. He could count the number of people he’d ever fancied in his 19 years of life on one hand. That is, until university comes around.

Notes:

Hey so I wrote this in a day and read through it a few times, but that's it, so if there's mistakes I apologise.

In my mind, I've basically plonked the main characters into a University setting, and added new characters who aren't in the canon. Just the main ones. Cool.

Also there's lots of flashbacks in this, so I've tried to differentiate with ---, but if it's confusing let me know!

Scroll down to read :))

Remus Lupin didn’t ‘do’ crushes.

He could count the number of people he’d ever fancied in his 19 years of life on one hand.

Of course, he thought when he’d officially declared himself “Not Entirely StraightTM” it would all start to make sense: he’d be instantly attracted to people and understand what all his mates would go on about, waxing lyrical about their newest crush and how perfect they were. James said he instantly knew Lily was ‘The One’ (James’ words, not Remus’) when he first laid eyes on her, and Remus could not for the life of him understand it.

--- “… and then she turned around me and asked for a pen! Me, guys! SHE approached ME! Why is nobody as excited about this as I am???” ---

James had first seen Lily when he was round at Remus’. She’d walked into the kitchen, and James had gone completely slack-jawed. Remus introduced them. “Oh yeah, James, this is my flatmate, Lily.”

James had just stared.

Remus elbowed him in the side. “What the f-. Right. Yeah. Hi. James. Lily. Hi Lily. James.”

Lily gave a confused smile, before going back to the kettle.

When she’d left, James turned to Remus. “Dude. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

--- Sirius chuckled and slung an arm over his best mate’s shoulders. “Nah mate, we’re all over the moon for you – right guys?”

“Yeah, but I hate to see you if she ever says yes to going out with you. We’d have to give you CPR.” Remus replied drily. Sirius barked back a laugh and beamed at Remus; Remus ignored the warm feeling in his stomach. ---

The first time he’d fancied someone, he was 7 years old. Rebecca was clever, he remembered that much, and she had long hair that she wore in a single braid down the back of her head. He remembered always wanting to make her laugh and feeling so special when they were in the same group for reading. But, because he was 7 and a literal child, nothing happened. They grew apart, went to different secondary schools. They were friends on Facebook, and that was about it.

--- “Guys can you please shut up? I’m trying to get this done for half 1!” Peter was frantically typing God-knows-what on his laptop, looking slightly manic behind the eyes.

Sirius arched an eyebrow and showed him his watch. “Uh, mate, you know it’s now 2, right?”

“Ah fuck’s sake I’m gonna miss my fucking seminar fuck, fuck, fuck.” Peter quickly shoved his laptop away and ran out of the café, before turning back and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “See you guys later!” He called, causing a few people around them to turn their heads and tut. The others chuckled at their hopeless friend, and James started talking to Sirius about some football match or something. Remus took another sip of his tea.

---

The second time he’d liked someone, he was 14. He remembered desperately wanting to be friends with the new boy, because he was cool and clever and sarcastic and tall, and Remus liked how his hair flopped over his glasses. Remus liked him because he was unapologetically himself – he had a confidence to like what he liked without fear of ridicule. Remus wasn’t used to that. Like most teenagers, he was desperately self-conscious: tall, lanky and covered with scars from constant surgeries while growing up. Looking back, it’s clear that Remus clearly fancied Liam, but at the time he’d thought it was nothing more than a friend-crush. But they were 14, and Remus didn’t know he could like the same gender, so nothing happened.

--- “Remus?” Sirius asked, rudely forcing Remus out of his daydream.

“Hm?”

Sirius gave him an affectionate chuckle. “I said, are you doing anything tonight?”

“Oh. Nah, not really. I have some reading that needs doing before Monday, so I might head to the library when you guys head out.”

“Oh, Remus how we could all aspire to be you…”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I ask because we’re having a party at our flat tonight, and you’re coming.” Sirius beamed.

Remus sighed. He wasn’t a huge fan of parties – too many people in too small a space – but he knew his friends loved them. For them, it was an excuse to drink and socialise, but he always ended up the one looking after James or Peter when they drank too much.

Sirius smiled at him again. Remus could never resist that smile. “Fine.”

“Also, if you wanted to bring Lily that would also be very cool and very good…” James trailed off, looking down at his coffee. He knew that if James wasn’t hosting this party tonight, he’d be begging to come round to Remus’ in the off chance that Lily would briefly be in the kitchen when cooking dinner.

Remus couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure man, I’ll message the group chat – maybe Dorcas might want to come too?”

Sirius nodded his head and beamed at him. “Sure, more the merrier!”

---

Crush number 3: he was 17. Ana was funny and clever, and they’d bonded over their love of reading and their sarcastic sense of humour. They’d messaged every day while Remus was staying with his grandparents in Wales, and every day when she was on holiday in Spain. But they spent a long time apart, and Remus hadn’t been able to muster up the same feelings after a while. He broke it off with her after he got home. He did it over message. He wasn’t proud of that.

--- Sirius downed the last of his coffee, and with a dramatic flourish he stood up and shrugged his jacket on. “Ok lads, I have to go and argue with some absolute pricks. I will see you-” he winked at Remus, causing the other boy to go sightly pink, “-tonight.”

“It’s gonna be so good! And please remember to ask Lily?” James looked at Remus hopefully, warranting a quiet snort: “Yeah of course mate. No promises she’ll agree to come though.”

James shook his head, ever the optimist. “Cheers!” He ran out of the door after Sirius. ---

He’d started university in September last year, being put in halls with 5 other complete strangers. He’d taken a shine to one of them: a boy from Aberdeen. The entire flat had sat round the kitchen table, drinking and getting to know each other, but something about this boy caught Remus’ eye. He was tall, well-built, with dirty blonde hair he constantly styled away from his face, and a gentle Scottish accent. He was sarcastic, and funny, and Remus fell hard. The two flirted with each other constantly, becoming extremely tactile without even realising it. They stayed up until the early morning hours, just talking, one leaning on the other. They talked about previous crushes, and things that had shaped them as human beings. Remus thought he’d found his match.

One night, they were sat in the kitchen, the only two still awake, as per usual. Remus was leaning on Henry’s chest while they lay on the sofa, enjoying the quiet, and talking about anything that came to their minds. Remus was clutched with a sudden confidence. He turned his head, and kissed Henry on the cheek. Henry returned by pressing himself onto Remus’ lips: that was his first kiss.

--- Remus, still sipping his tea, struggled to suppress a shudder as he thought about how the relationship turned out. He took out a book and tried to become as engrossed as he normally did, but his brain wouldn’t stop the thoughts from flowing.

---

Nothing much happened after they kissed. Things went back to normal, except now Remus couldn’t stop his heart lurching whenever Henry entered the room. He wanted to be where the other boy was at all times.

One night, when the flat were watching a film, Henry and Remus were sharing a sofa and blanket. Halfway through, Remus felt Henry’s hand slowly wander to his inner thigh. He felt his phone buzz:

After the film, meet me in my room.

They kept that up for the next few months. Always at night, after everyone was asleep. It was established that this relationship was secret – they were friends with benefits, nothing more. They’d spend hours fooling around, eventually falling asleep next to each other, but Remus was never able to sleep. To be only friends with benefits killed Remus inside. He kept up with it because he couldn’t separate his feelings: he really liked Henry. He didn’t want this to stop.

Then Henry met a girl. As soon as he told Remus, Remus thought he was going to be sick. “It’s fine Remus! We can stop whatever thing we have. No feelings – clean break. Right?”

“Sure.” He’d said.

Remus wasn’t the same after that. He couldn’t eat; he felt constantly nauseous. He skipped lectures, he skipped going out with his friends. It was worse when Henry brought the girl to the flat. Remus would walk into the kitchen, see them making out on the sofa, and want to be sick or cry or scream, before running straight back to his room again.

Most of his flat didn’t notice his change in character, but nothing got past Lily. Lily was Remus’ closest friend, and the first friend he made at uni. One night, after he hadn’t eaten anything all day, Lily forced him to tell her everything. So, he did. And she didn’t judge. And for that he was incredibly grateful. She helped him get better.

He was grateful for his other friends too, although he didn’t confide in them as much as he did Lily. James and Sirius knew each other from secondary school, but it took a while for Remus and Sirius to meet. He’d met James from getting lost on the first day of uni, when both he and James arrived at the same room for completely different lectures. Turns out, James was in the next building – for a Geography student, James was so bad with directions – but they quickly became friends.

Crush number 5 started about a year ago: just before Summer break. James invited Remus (and, naturally, Lily) to a huge end-of-year party at his studio flat. Remus had been debriefed about James’ other two friends: “You’ll know which one’s Sirius and which one’s Peter: just look for the one that has to have a stupid name like Sirius Black.”

When they’d arrived, Remus’ first thought was that James was right. You instantly know which one is Sirius Black. His hair was raven-black (because of course it was), perfectly tousled, and in a bun that had the audacity not to look ridiculous. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, stormy grey eyes. You’d never be able to tell that this man and Remus were the same age: Remus with his second-hand jumpers and converse, compared to this Greek God of a human in his leather jacket and perfectly battered Doc Martins. Yeah, Remus guessed this was a man called Sirius Black.

He accidentally caught Sirius’ eye, and quickly looked away.

“Hey Sirius! Come meet my friends!” James hollered, and Sirius lifted an eyebrow. He wandered over, giving Remus and Lily and big grin. “Why, hello.”

After being introduced to Sirius and Peter, James quickly cornered Lily in a conversation, and Remus was left alone. He took a cider from the table, keen to avoid whatever drinking game was going on, and went to look for somewhere quiet. He ended up out on the balcony, enjoying the summer air and the bit of peace and quiet.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the glass door slide open and close behind him. “What’cha thinking about?”

Remus looked up, startled. Sirius stood next to him, 2 cider bottles hanging loosely from his fingers, gentle smile on his lips.

“Oh, nothing much. Just needed some air – there’s so many people in there.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

They collapsed into a comfortable silence for a bit, looking out on to the roads below. Sirius offered the second cider bottle to Remus, who took it.

“You know, I’m annoyed I didn’t meet you sooner.” Sirius mused, bringing the bottle to his lips.

Remus was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“James always talks about you – he’s really glad he met you. And any friend of James’ is a friend of mine: he’s practically my brother.”

Remus felt warm – he was glad he’d found James as a friend too. He was so worried about being an outcast, or a loner, or not being able to find anybody, then James had been a friend, and Lily had been there for him, and he finally felt wanted.

“Yeah, I’m glad I met him too. Although it doesn’t help that his main reason for coming round is to ogle at my flatmate…”

Sirius chuckled to himself. “I’m actually very excited to meet the infamous Lily who keeps shutting down his advances – I’ve not seen it happen yet, but it always sounds hilarious.”

Remus laughed. “You’re definitely missing out. I could write a book called ‘How Not to Ask Out a Girl: A Guide by James Potter’ from all the attempts I’ve seen.”

Sirius had a hearty laugh: the kind of laugh that didn’t care who heard it.

They took another swig of their drinks. “You know, when James wasn’t allowed round yours earlier this year, I thought he was gonna lose his mind. It was kinda funny to see him pace the fucking walls like a trapped wild cat because he couldn’t see his friend or the ‘girl of his dreams’”. He used air quotes and gave a small laugh.

Remus instantly felt guilty. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of the effect his low mental state would have had on James. He just assumed he would be fine with his other friends, but it seemed Remus’ friendship meant as much to James as James’ did to him.

“Ah shit, I’ve never actually apologised to James for that.”

“Apologise? Why would you apologise?”

Remus finished off his cider. “I wasn’t actually ill. Or rather, I was, but it wasn’t flu. I was in a bad way, but I didn’t tell anyone other than Lily. I don’t know, I didn’t want to scare James away with my mental health issues.” Remus gave a small nervous laugh, but Sirius looked at him intently.

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Shit. No. It’s nothing. I’m sorry for bringing it up. You wouldn’t care. It’s nothing big, I promise.” Remus backtracked. He wasn’t about to offload his problems on to this – albeit gorgeous – complete stranger.

Sirius sighed. “That’s ok. You don’t have to talk to me. You have only just met me.” He gave a hopeful smile. “But I’m hoping we can become good friends?”

Remus blushed slightly, then coughed awkwardly. “I want another drink – any requests?”

Sirius laughed. “I’ve got a bottle of vodka in my room, I’ll grab it.” He walked towards the doors, then paused. “You can come with, if you want? It’s a lot warmer inside than out here.”

Remus blushed further. Before he realised it, he felt his head nodding, and his feet were following Sirius back into the party. Sirius immediately got pulled into a conversation - some argument between Pete and a girl Remus didn’t recognise - and Remus stood awkwardly on the sidelines, sipping his drink.

Eventually James called another round of beer pong, and Sirius was able to pull Remus away while most people were distracted. They left the main room, to the sounds of “Oh my god Potter you are going DOWN” as Lily versed James. Sirius laughed, and Remus tried to ignore the warm feeling of Sirius’ hand through his sleeve, and how his arm buzzed from where Sirius had grabbed him.

Sirius ushered them in, quickly closing the door and locking it behind him. “Sorry if this looks a bit suspicious – I just don’t like people I don’t know coming in my room looking for the bathroom. I promise you I’m not going to kill you.”

“That’s good to know, thank you.” Remus said drily, trying to ignore the situation he found himself in. Locked in a room with a very attractive man who he was clearly into. “Anyway, where’s this vodka then?”

Sirius grinned and reached to the back of the top of his wardrobe. His t-shirt hitched slightly, exposing his flesh, and Remus tried not to stare. He shook himself out of it, before smiling gratefully as he received the bottle from Sirius. He took a small swig and immediately shuddered. “That taste never gets better.” He pulled a face, handing the bottle back. Sirius laughed. He knocked his head back and drank some of the clear liquid. Unlike Remus, he had little reaction.

They spent the next hour or so in that room, passing the bottle back and forth. They sat in silence, until Remus, quite clearly drunk, announced, “You know, I’m so happy I found friends here. You’re my friend now.”

Sirius, not quite as drunk as Remus, grinned. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yes. And James is my friend. But I am a bad friend. Because I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t feeling good before.”

Sirius stayed quiet, but slowly put the bottle on the floor.

Remus kept talking: “I really liked this guy. He was amazing. We had the same sense of humour and he was attractive, and he found me attractive, which is really something rare.” Remus looked so earnest and gestured down at himself.

Sirius muttered under his breath. “You can’t believe that.”

Remus didn’t hear him. “And he flirted with me. And I thought we had a connection. But it turns out he didn’t like me back. He just wanted a mouth and an arse, and he would’ve taken any other person who had that too. He wanted friends with benefits, but I didn’t.” Remus went silent for a little bit. “I don’t want to be just a mouth and an arse, Sirius!” Horrifically, Remus’ eyes filled with tears. He was mortified. He was drunk, but he still didn’t want to cry in front of his new friend.

“Oh, Remus.” Sirius moved up the bed and hugged him tight.

“What if I can’t find anyone else Sirius? What if I’m destined to be nothing but a mouth and an arse for the next person? I really liked him! Now he’s with someone else! And he just threw me aside like I was nothing!”

Sirius rubbed comforting circles on Remus’ back while Remus sobbed into his shoulder.

“That really sucks, I’m sorry Remus. Why didn’t you tell James?”

“I was scared,” he hiccuped. “Sc-scared of being judged.”

Sirius took Remus firmly by the shoulders. “Remus - you should never be afraid of being judged. James adores you, and I think you’re amazing. I’m so glad I met you tonight - so you’re a part of our group now.”

Annoyingly, Remus burst into tears again. “I’ve never been part of a group before.”

The two of them sat there for a while, Sirius rubbing circles on Remus’ back, while Remus sobbed, finally coming to terms with how he was feeling about the entire situation. Sirius being so caring about someone who he knew so little about was enough to make Remus fall again.

--- They arrived at La Casa de James y Sirius (it was James who named it, trying to get Lily to be impressed with him) at about half 9, holding a box of ciders. James enthusiastically opened the door to them, yelling his welcome and not being able to take his eyes off Lily for the entire time he was leading them into the party. Lily immediately went off to dance with James (secretly Remus thought she was beginning to like him).

He grabbed himself a drink and plonked himself down on the sofa, people-watching. He recognised a few people here: people from Sirius’ football practise, people from James’ course that he’d met at different parties, girls who seemed to have a sixth sense to follow Sirius wherever he went…

Sirius. He couldn’t see him.

Normally he’d be chatting up every living thing in the room – including Remus, but he knew that was just a joke. Sirius was always joking. Of course he was, they were best friends. But that didn’t help Remus’ poor heart.

Suddenly there was a large shout. “Truth or dare everyone! Everyone, sit down at the sofas and bring your drink!” Remus didn’t have time to move before numerous people were sitting down around him. He looked up and saw Sirius whispering conspiratorially with Lily, before barging through and plonking himself down on the arm of the chair next to Remus. “I’m so glad you could make it.” He winked at him.

“Sirius, there isn’t enough room on the arm of the chair for your arse - find somewhere else to sit.” Remus tutted, mainly because he was conscious that Sirius would slowly slide down and their legs would be touching, and he wouldn’t be able to think straight if that happened.

“Oh, what was that about my arse, Rem? But, I thank you for offering your lap as a substitute.” Sirius smirked, then plonked himself half on Remus and half on the arm of the chair, arm reaching round Remus’ shoulders. Remus’ heart skipped a beat. This is normal. Friends are touchy-feely. This happens all the time. He thought to himself. But he couldn’t stop his pulse racing a little faster than normal.

Lily raised an eyebrow at the display but said nothing. Remus had told her how he felt about Sirius a while back, but refused to act on it, and Lily found that infuriating. “At least I know where Potter stands with me – you should just tell him!”

“No, Lils, he’s my best friend. I’m not going to lose him.”

James laughed at the two of them and began. “Ok! You pick truth or dare. Drink if you don’t answer the truth or do the dare. Easy. I’ll go first. Dare.” Sirius called out a suggestion. “Do a headstand!”

James grinned. “Gladly.” Obviously just eager to show off to Lily, he went to the wall and did something that somewhat resembled a headstand. Lily shook her head affectionately.

James came back to the circle, flushed red and hair tousled. “Ok I’m gonna choose…. Remus! Truth or dare!”

Oh, God. “Uh, truth, please.”

“Who’s the hottest boy here?”

Remus’ heart sped up. He decided to make a joke out of it. “I was gonna say James, but considering Sirius is within battering distance and I don’t fancy being slapped tonight, I’m gonna say him.”

Sirius laughed. “Oh, Remus, you’re too kind.” He brought his head down to Remus’ ear, his warm breath sending shivers down Remus’ spine, “I would’ve said you.”

Remus’ eyes opened wide, like a startled deer, but Sirius threw his head back nonchalantly, like nothing had been said. Had Remus imagined it?

“Remus, choose someone!” James shouted.

“Oh, r-right, ok. Sirius: truth or dare?”

“Dare me, baby.”

Lily jumped up. “I dare you to kiss Remus!”

Remus’ heart sank as James whooped and the crowd joined in. “Kiss kiss kiss!”. Not like this.

Sirius faltered ever-so-slightly. “Wait. No. I’m gonna drink.”

The group booed him, but Sirius just threw up two fingers, and ignored them.

Remus would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed, but equally glad. He obviously wanted to kiss Sirius. So, so, badly. But he didn’t want it to happen this way. They were friends. He didn’t want to jeopardise that.

The game went on pretty uneventfully. Sirius didn’t do anything else out of the ordinary. Peter was asked to kiss one of the girls, and everyone cheered him on, and when he was finished, he was blushing bright pink and looking slightly dazed.

Remus shuffled out from underneath Sirius, who looked slightly dejected at his leaving. He made his way to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, he stared at the wall, lost in thought. The boy was so confusing! Remus thought he was straight! Now he was flirting!

But he always flirted. Another part of his brain argued, that’s just who he was.

No. He wouldn’t think anything more of it. He’d lost a friend in Henry by acting on feelings and got hurt in the process. He didn’t want the same thing to happen with Sirius.

He splashed some water on his face to cool himself down. God, why couldn’t things be easy?!

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and saw a message from Sirius. Meet me in my room. Please?

Ignoring the voice screaming at him that this was a mistake, Remus waited 5 minutes, taking deep breaths and figuring out his next course of action. He found himself stood outside of Sirius’ door, heart hammering against his chest. He knocked gently.

“Come in.”

Sirius was sat on the bed, same position as a year ago when Remus broke down in his arms. He looked beautiful – he always did. He wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore, so Remus could see black ink peeking from under the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Remus shook his head and shut the door. In three steps, Sirius was directly in front of him, one hand on the door to the side of his head, the other shutting the door and locking it. Remus’ heart hammered inside his chest. This couldn’t be happening.

Sirius’ eyes flick to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Remus. Can I kiss you?”

Remus barely had the chance to say yes – oh my god, yes – before Sirius’ lips were crashing onto his. Remus didn’t know where to put his hands, so ran them through that oh-so-perfect hair, messing it up just a little bit more.

They pulled away, and Sirius looked even more beautiful – if that’s even possible – with his lips swollen and his hair messy.

Remus placed his forehead on the other boy’s. “And here I was, thinking you were straight.”

Sirius chuckled deeply. “Not quite.”

Remus pulled away. “Sirius, please tell me you’re serious. I’m not losing another friendship after acting on urges.”

Sirius placed one hand on either side of Remus’ face, caressing it gently with his thumbs. “Remus Lupin, I have fancied you since I saw you staring at me when you first walked in. You’re beautiful. I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently and it’s been driving me mad because you’re so goddamn beautiful and you have no idea. You know the first time you were in this room, you said one of the main reasons you liked ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’ was because he flirted with you, and that was a miracle in itself. Do you not see how wrong you are? You’re so goddamn beautiful I could lose my mind over it.” He placed a small kiss on Remus’ lips.

Remus didn’t know what to say. He was so taken aback by all of it. “But… why now, why choose this moment to kiss me? To tell me this?”

Sirius had the nerve to look sheepish. “I might have asked Lily to shout that dare for the two of us to kiss. I was basically hoping you liked me back, and Lily told me to go for it. But, when I had to kiss you, I chickened out. Even when not-quite-sober, I was scared.”

He looked so vulnerable, so open. Remus placed one hand on the nape of Sirius’ neck and kissed him again. Passionately. Like this was the culmination of every single crush he’d ever had. This was what he’d been leading up to.

Remus Lupin didn’t ‘do’ crushes. He could count the number of people he’d ever fancied in his 19 years of life on one hand, and he didn’t want to count any higher.

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Little Lights [Chapter 1] (Trixya) - mrgtmcs

A/N: Hi pals, this is a first time post from a longtime lurker. This will be a canon-compliant multichapter because now I have invested myself. I fully wrote this on my flight to Israel and was half asleep so apologies in advance. Also also, I promise

The music in the venue started to fade, and Katya had already walked offstage, holding heels in one hand. He tiptoes back to the dressing room, sliding past the propped open door.

“Hello,” Trixie practically sang as he spun around in one of the chairs.

“That was awful,” Katya responded, grabbing at his curly blonde wig and sliding it off his head. “No. Worse than awful. Deplorable.”

Trixie tried to stifle a laugh. “Alright, drama queen, calm down.”

Katya was rapidly de-dragging, back turned to Trixie. “I didn’t know any of the lyrics. None of them!” he shot back in rapid fire, tugging at layers of tights. He turned around to face Trixie again. “And it’s a song I’ve done FOR YEARS! But today of all days my brain went, ‘No Brenda, we are not going to give the people what they PAID to see.” Katya took a breath and stuck a baseball cap on his head.

Trixie gasped and said, in mock horror, “Oh no, not a sequel to Glamazonian Airways!”

Katya laughed wildly. “Shut up, you cunt,” he shouted, reaching past Trixie to pick up a pack of cigarettes from the table. Gesturing towards the door, he asked, “You coming?”

“I will watch you from the door,” Trixie said. Katya extended his hand to Trixie, and as he stood up, Katya pulled him into a hug.

“I love you, bitch.”

“You too, incompetent whore,” Trixie laughed. He kissed Katya’s forehead quickly.

Katya pulled out a cigarette from the pack and held it between his fingers. “Mother, I’m going to increase my chances of lung cancer again.” He squeezed Trixie’s shoulder and Trixie followed him outside.

It was pitch black outside the club, Katya’s face, still fully painted, illuminated only by the momentary flicker of his lighter. “Do you ever think,” he started, pausing to take a drag from his cigarette. “About, like, changing your name and getting a full face transplant and, like, starting over as an ER nurse or something?”

Trixie was watching him from the doorway, a smile appearing across his face. “I don’t think you can just go get a face transplant,” he said. “Isn’t that just for, like, burn victims?”

“Dollar bills, mama,” Katya responded.

“Also do you personally believe you have an aptitude for a medical profession?” Trixie started. “Because I’ve seen you try to do math and I don’t think you’d be much of an asset.”

Katya laughed loudly. “You know what I mean, Tracy Martel, now answer the question!”

Trixie looked directly at him and smiled. “Sometimes,” he said.

Katya paused, taking another drag. “We should, you know,” he said. “One of these days. Just be Brian and Brian, ER nurses. Or Stanley and Charles, or whatever.”

“Who are you? Charles?” Trixie asked incredulously.

“Obviously,” Katya responded as he walked closer to Trixie.

“Excuse me, please keep your fumes over there,” Trixie said, placing a hand on Katya’s shoulder. “I enjoy my clean air.”

“I just wanna stand next to you, bitch! Is that such a crime?” Katya shouted.

“When you’re infecting me with your toxins, yes,” Trixie retorted

Katya dropped the half-finished cigarette and smashed it beneath his shoe, making sudden eye contact with Trixie when he looked up. “Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” Trixie responded.

Katya sidled up to him and rested his head on Trixie’s shoulder. He felt fingers gently grip the side of his waist, and he could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. They stood in silence for a moment, staring out at the empty lot. “Guess we have to do this all over again tomorrow,” Katya said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, Maria, not like it’s our job or anything,” Trixie said, gently bumping Katya with his hip.

“I know,” Katya said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Just let me complain a little longer. If I don’t get to bitch about my amazing life sometimes, I think I’ll go crazy.”

“Oh, it gets worse?” Trixie laughed.

“You are a rotted bitch, Trixie Mattel,” Katya said, shoving him lightly. He took Trixie’s hand and asked, “If I’m bored later, will you come over?”

Trixie feigned exasperation. “How far will I have to walk?”

“Several doors perhaps, and I’m offended you would even dare ask,” Katya said, pulling Trixie’s hand close to his chest, fingers intertwined with his.

“In that case I will consider it,” Trixie said.

Katya stepped in closer to Trixie. “Can I have a small kiss, mama? For old time’s sake?” Katya asked.

“What old times are you referencing?” Trixie laughed. His hands had already migrated to Katya’s waist, and Trixie pulled him in slightly until their lips met for a brief moment. It was nothing they hadn’t done before, but Katya felt suddenly like the wind had been knocked out of him.

They suddenly heard the voice of the tour manager, Andrew, a few feet away, and Katya felt the moment get yanked away faster than it could begin. “Everyone’s already on the bus, guys. We’re trying to head out.”

“We’re coming in a second,” Trixie shouted back, shooting Katya a knowing grimace. “Oops,” he whispered.

Katya quickly kissed Trixie’s cheek while he still had the chance. “To the bus we go.”

Once they got on the bus, Katya fell half asleep, head in Trixie’s lap. He could feel Trixie’s hand lay haphazardly on his shoulder. He was afraid that moving even an inch would disturb the delicate placement of Trixie’s hand, his fingertips a comforting presence against Katya’s bare skin. Katya didn’t want anything to upset the fragility of the moment. He didn’t want anything to jolt Trixie back into overthinking, didn’t want him to wonder if this was okay. He just wanted to stay there in that moment, no words needed, time suspended. Eventually, though, the bus came to a sudden halt in front of the hotel, and the spell was disrupted. Katya opened his eyes and rolled over to look up at Trixie.

“Hey sleepy,” Trixie said softly.

Katya was in love with the way Trixie’s hand lingered on his chest. He took a breath and paused for a moment. “Brian?” he whispered. Trixie looked at him and grabbed his arm to let him know he was listening. “Promise me you’ll come over tonight?”

Trixie laughed a little. “Alright,” he said.

Katya stood up and started to walk towards the door. “Okay, well I’m holding you to it.” As they both went inside and got in the elevator, Katya scanned Trixie’s face for some clarity. Blank. Nothing. The elevator came to a sudden halt on the fourth floor, and Katya poked Trixie’s ribs. “409 bitch,” he said.

“See you in thirty?” Trixie asked.

“I will be anxiously awaiting your arrival.” Katya turned down the hallway and heard Trixie’s footsteps trailing away in the other direction. When Katya finally got to his room, he was on autopilot, standing in the bathroom immediately waiting for the shower to warm up. His makeup had smeared, leaving trails of black on his cheeks. As he undressed quickly, he stared in the mirror for a little too long, regretting his decision to forego a tan this weekend. Prodding at the contours of his pale abdomen, he felt suddenly out of sorts.

He and Trixie had hung out in each other’s’ rooms countless times. They always had a more or less open-door policy, and Katya had shown up to Trixie’s apartment more than a few times unannounced. Trixie was always up, sitting on his couch, and he’d always motion to Katya to sit down next to him, and he’d slide over and put his head on Trixie’s shoulder. What are we watching? Katya would ask, like he was home. Trixie would hand him the remote and say, Your choice. Eventually he’d fall asleep on the couch, and Trixie would cover him with a blanket and go to bed. He’d let himself out as soon as he’d become sentient again, awaking suddenly to a dark room on a too-familiar couch alone, calling an Uber home at 3AM like a pseudo walk of shame.

Katya’s stream of consciousness was interrupted by a sharp double knock on the door. He quickly turns to shut off the shower, frantically looking for a towel. “Uh, just a second,” he shouted, struggling to dry off as quickly as possible. How long had be been in there? Katya shuffles towards the door, t-shirt only halfway on, and emerges to see Trixie completely de-dragged in an ex-white merch t-shirt.

He took a look at a dilapidated Katya and, already walking into the room, said, “You’re shirt’s on backwards, bitch.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you require perfection, but some of us have been a little too busy with our shower thoughts to pay attention to these details,” Katya said, sliding his arms out of his t-shirt and flipping it around to the front.

“Shower thoughts? Anything particularly sordid you’d care to share with the class?” Trixie asked, tossing himself onto the bed.

“Oh, I wish,” Katya responded, rubbing his soap-irritated eyes. He looked over to see Trixie eyeing him expectantly. “No, no. Nothing interesting.”

Trixie was already messing with the TV settings as Katya sat down next to him, his tense, upright posture a juxtaposition with Trixie’s relaxed sprawl. He suddenly didn’t know how to act normally. “Do we have Netflix capability? Or is it gonna be a cable TV infomercial night?”

“Uh, probably the latter unless you can figure it out—”

Trixie’s phone buzzed and she interjected. “Oh, Alaska’s staying in 412. I told her she could come over. That’s cool, right?”

Katya’s shoulders sunk a little. “Y-yeah, yeah that’s fine.” His entertainment of the idea that maybe there was a hint of something else in the air tonight was promptly smashed to pieces. He was suddenly feeling very antisocial.

Trixie was still flipping through channels on the TV, and Katya, now devoid of the pressure of expectation, flopped onto his back. He felt Trixie’s fingers grab his shoulder suddenly. “Bitch, look at what’s on in two minutes!” he shouted with much more energy than Katya could muster at that point. Katya sat up a little. “Heathers, Brenda. We have won the late-night hotel cable TV lottery.”

Katya smiled. “Alright, well you know what to do,” he said, gesturing at the TV. He popped up for a moment. “I’m going to retrieve a Red Bull from my stash. You want one?” he asked, already across the room digging through a drawer. “I have multiples,” he said with affectation, a dumb grin on his face.

“It’s almost midnight,” Trixie protested.

“And when have you let that stop you?” Katya asked, tilting his head and flashing a smile at Trixie.

“Alright.” Trixie responded, and Katya danced back over to the bed, placing a can gingerly in Trixie’s hand.

“You’re welcome,” Katya said sarcastically. Trixie bumped him with his shoulder. For just a moment, Katya let himself think about those nights at Trixie’s.

Then Alaska knocked at the door, and Trixie paused the movie. Moment over. Trixie got up to answer the door. “I really hope I wasn’t interrupting any hand fun between the two of you,” Alaska said in a long, overdramatic drawl. Katya watched from the bed awkwardly.

Trixie laughed. “You awful cunt.”

He walked in and eyed Katya. “Alaska Thunderfun, what ever are you doing here?” Katya asked in a theatrical voice.

“To relieve my dreadful boredom, of course,” he responded. “How was your show, mama?”

“She said it was awful, and I don’t believe it,” Trixie interjected.

For a fraction of a second, Katya shot him a glance of rare sincerity. He hoped that Trixie got it. “It was awful. Point-blank, period. No exaggeration.”

“Well why? I’m on the edge of my seat,” Alaska asked, sitting down on one of the armchairs.

“Okay, well one, I didn’t remember a single word to the song. Which was horrifying and bad because I don’t think I even managed to sell it. And two—”

Trixie cut her off. “It’s a song she’s performed for years, and then tonight for some reason—”

Alaska jumped in. “Oh my god, my favorite married couple. Are kids on the way?” he said mockingly.

“SHUT UP!” Katya squealed in, thrashing his hands around in the sheets.

“I can’t help it that you two are disgustingly adorable, just casually finishing each other’s sentences. Gross.”

“Girl, don’t be jealous of me and my work wife.” Trixie said. Katya poked his leg and for a brief split second, he could have sworn he saw something in Trixie’s eyes that was different. It was something; it had to be.

“Oh speaking of which, girl, what ever happened to that gorgeous man from last night?” Alaska asked. Was it nothing?

“Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much—” Trixie started.

“Oh my god, you did?” Katya asked, attempting to find the right tone to mask his jealousy.

“No, we didn’t. Well, I mean, not that.”

“Oh, so you—” Alaska holds up her fist and mock-fellatiates the air.

“Maybe.” Trixie said quietly, pulling his chin in closer to his chest. “But you know that I’m not about to go all the way with a man from the club in the same night. I am not that kind of girl.”

“Okay, Miss Mattel, thank you for the shade,” Alaska said. He looks at the TV, the semi-blurred opening scene of Heathers still paused. “So what are we watching tonight?”

“The magic of Heathers has graced the hotel TV this evening. We just started it before you got here,” Trixie said.

“Well onwards, ladies, let’s get it going,” Alaska said. He stayed in his armchair while Trixie climbed back into bed with Katya. “No funny business, you too. Mother is watching,” Alaska joked.

As Trixie unpaused the TV, Katya became distracted by monitoring Trixie’s presence out of his periphery. Trixie and Alaska would ever so often interject commentary during the movie, but Katya was uncharacteristically silent. He waited to see if Trixie moved closer, if he turned his hips away, if he was looking back. Slowly, Katya attempted to inch closer. He figured if it was done at glacial speed, maybe Trixie wouldn’t even notice. Maybe it would seem like an accident. So she counted every few minutes and slid another inch or two closer. The neurosis of it was pure agony, and with every passing moment of Trixie’s signals failing to provide relief, Katya was beginning to feel like a petulant child.

The credits rolled, and Alaska got up. “Alright, I should be heading out. I have got a major early morning tomorrow,” Alaska said, rising from the chair. He walked towards the door and grasped the handle. “See you guys at breakfast tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes, girl, for sure I have to get those pancakes from downstairs,” Trixie said. Katya just nodded. Alaska shut the door behind him.

Katya had the sudden realization that he had fully migrated probably an entire foot. So much for subtlety. Their arms were close enough that they would be touching if either of them moved a millimeter. Katya turned on his side, and Trixie started to sit up.

“You don’t have to go,” Katya said softly. “I mean, if you don’t want to.”

“You sure you don’t wanna go to bed?” Trixie asked.

“You should know by now that your presence does absolutely nothing to affect that,” Katya reassured, gently grasping Trixie’s wrist.

“Well lucky for you, I am completely wired from your Red Bull from earlier,” Trixie said, sliding back underneath the covers.

Katya laughed and said, “Then my plan was successful.”

Trixie passed the remote to Katya. “Your turn,” he said.

Katya started scrolling. “So who was the guy from the other night?” he asked, realizing it came out sounding a little more controlling housewife than he was intending.

“Oh him? I have no idea.” Trixie’s tone luckily didn’t seem to imply he had read this as accusatory. “His name was Dan or Dave or something like that. Very much what I’d classify as a drunk decision.”

“Gotcha. Well that’s fun, I guess,” Katya responded, a little too seriously.

Trixie paused for what felt like an eternity and looked at him. “What?” he asked.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Katya asked.

“What is this reaction you’re having? ‘Well that’s fun, I guess’? That’s not how you talk and you and I both know it,” Trixie pressed.

Katya felt exposed, all of a sudden. With no rehearsed heart-bearing statement, he said, rather anticlimactically, “No, no, sorry, I just was reading something on the TV and wasn’t paying attention.” He took a breath and tried to sell it further. “No reason to panic, Mother,” he said in a jokey cockney accent. Trixie seemed to accept this response, but Katya secretly wished she’d pushed more. He just needed another moment to think of how to frame what it really was. He wasn’t even sure he could put it to words right then. It was all too much feeling and too little logic to relay. Katya tried to change the subject. “Cops?” he asked. “I think it’s as good as we’re gonna get this time.”

Trixie seemed distracted. “Uh, yeah, it’s your call. Whatever you want.”

Katya put it on and relaxed back into the bed, sliding a little further away in a weak attempt to conceal his motives. Almost without missing a beat, Trixie moved in closer, so much so that their arms were suddenly touching. Katya felt his breathing get faster, it was all too much and he almost couldn’t function. He resounded to not react, taking every bone in his body and willing himself to not move one way or the other. He wanted to see what Trixie would do without any of his own influence.

Katya was nearly stressed by the inaction. They remained like that for minutes on end, nobody making a single move. He tried to watch Trixie from the corner of his eye, but he was watching the TV. He felt his palms sweating, wondering how he could be so overwhelmed and Trixie could be watching TV with the inner calm of a monk. But before long, Katya felt fingers running along his wrist. The touch was tentative devoid of any reason or context. This was a sign, right? Katya took it as encouragement enough to lean her head into the space between Trixie’s shoulder and his jaw. “Wait, sit up for a second,” Trixie said. Katya felt a sinking feeling. Did he cross the line? Was this too much? He thought he was just following Trixie’s lead. Trixie moved his arm so it hooked around Katya’s waist. “Okay, all good,” he said reassuringly. He pulled Katya in closer, and Katya felt his cheek brush against Trixie’s.

There was always a line they never seemed to cross, even though it seemed to get blurrier and blurrier with time. They never went beyond the point of no return, beyond the point where they’d actually have to talk about it, where it couldn’t just be chalked up to a platonic intimacy. Katya was never really sure where this line was, but Trixie always seemed so sure of it. His boundaries were always so defined to him, even if they seemed unclear to Katya most of the time. But from experience, Katya learned. They could snuggle in the same bed all night as long as they didn’t sleep together, and they could share quick kisses if it was mandated, but they never, ever lingered. Anything beyond that could upset the delicate balance of not having to talk about it. Even Alaska’s comments could make Katya jump, like he’d just peered at the X-ray of his innermost thoughts that he didn’t dare voice. Katya always assumed Trixie didn’t have any questionable thoughts that Alaska’s jokes would threaten to illuminate, since he always managed to seem so collected.

Katya wasn’t even pretending to watch the TV anymore, his eyes enamored with studying the contours of Trixie’s face. Trixie remained seemingly oblivious. “You know, if I were running from the cops, I don’t think I’d bring my crack pipe with me,” he said, laughing a little. He looked over at Katya, his lithe body practically melted into Trixie, and his face was so close that Katya could feel the warmth of his breath against his skin, making his stomach flip over. Trixie raised his eyebrows at him.

“Yes, yes, totally agree,” Katya said absently. He traced the perimeter of Trixie’s jawline with his index finger, then ran it along the bridge of his nose. “You have a cute nose, you rotted whore. Just thought I’d tell you.” He whispered it so gently that it was almost too intimate.

“You are a strange one,” Trixie said.

Katya traced the curve of his bottom lip. “Brian, uh—” Trixie was looking at him again. “Would you, uh, get mad if I kissed you right now?”

Trixie laughed again, but Katya was dead serious, his face almost concerned. So Trixie didn’t answer immediately. He turned onto his side and place his hand on the side of Katya’s face. “I’d get mad if you didn’t.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Trixie brought his lips to meet Katya’s. But this time was different. He didn’t pull away instantly, didn’t make a joke to diffuse the tension, didn’t stop it before it began. They lingered, Trixie’s breath hot and heavy against Katya’s face. Trixie’s tongue brushed Katya’s lips, and it instantly intensified until the weight of Katya’s body was pressed on top of his. Hands wandered underneath t-shirts, feeling warm skin against skin. Trixie’s fingertips raked across Katya’s back until he reached towards the waistband of Trixie’s jeans. “Wait,” Trixie said, near-breathless. “Don’t.” Katya looked up at him with wide eyes, half-surprised, half-disappointed. “This was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have let it happen.” Katya rolled off Trixie and flopped onto his back, facing a separation that felt like it could’ve spanned oceans. Still fully clothed, he felt more naked than ever before. He wanted to crawl into the shower and wash the feeling off.

Trixie was already up and heading for the door. He didn’t even try to diffuse the situation, his words just sat there with their jagged edges, cutting into Katya with every moment he still stood there. Katya didn’t even try to come up with a response. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Trixie said as he closed the door behind him, his inflection at the end making it seem more like a question than a declaration that things would go on as normal.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #fluff #angst #canon compliant #mrgtmcs #little lights #submission

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

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Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

I want to promise you right now that this story is a happy story and has a happy ending...just stick with me. ;) Next chapter goes up on Friday, August 21st.

Chapter 4

Ted made it back to his flat and forced himself to plug his phone in next to his bed so he would stop checking it again and again. She said she would text him. He just had to trust that.

He tried to distract himself by tidying up his room a bit, but his mind kept going back to how amazing the night had been. Being there with Vic felt right, it felt easy, it felt like everything he wanted things between them to be.

He was kicking himself over that feeling for the hundredth time when his phone buzzed on his night table.

Unknown: Did you make it home alright?

Ted let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and saved the number.

Ted: Who is this? How do I know you aren't a predator?

He grinned and laid back in his bed, propping himself up against his pillow.

Vic: I'm totally a predator. My victims are always white males in their mid-twenties.

Ted laughed out loud.

Ted: That seems fair. I guess I can talk to you until my coworker decides to get back to me. She was supposed to text me tonight.

Ted watched her typing icon with what he was sure was a stupid grin on his face.

Vic: As fun as that sounds, I really was looking forward to guessing your name, so can we drop this game and pick up that one?

Ted: Such a killjoy.

Vic: You promised me clues, Ted…

Ted: How do I know you're really Vic and not an impersonator?

Vic: Because your wolf figurine is sitting on my desk next to my laptop dock, and you knocked half your chips on the floor tonight when Jamie said that it was probably time you found a girlfriend.

Ted groaned. That had, unfortunately, happened. Jamie had asked if Ted would start dating now that he was done with university and only had the one job. Ted had been so flustered that he tipped his basket up and knocked some of his chips on the floor.

Ted: So cruel...why would I give you any information about my full name now?

She sent him a GIF of a baby about to cry, and Ted started laughing. He started to type a snarky reply but stopped himself when a dangerous thought crossed his mind.

What if he called her? Heaven knew he wanted to.

He deleted what he already wrote and started again.

Ted: Don't do that, don't pull on my heartstrings. I'll make you a deal, call me so I know it's you and then I won't hang up until you know my name.

Ted hit send and held his breath. He was beyond screwed at this point. He was certain she was going to play this off, tell him she was tired and they could pick up this twisted game on Monday.

Then his phone rang and Teddy's heart exploded in his chest.

"You waste no time, Weasley, do you?"

"Oh, shut up," Vic laughed and Ted tried to let his relieved sigh out slowly.

"No more stalling, Ted, I want my clues."

Ted grinned, "But of course, I'm a man of my word.

"Clues, Ted, clues!"

Ted laughed. "First clue, a few of my predecessors have been our country's monarch, while another abdicated the throne."

"Ha!" She shouted, and Ted laughed as he moved his phone to his other ear.

"I knew you were an Edward," she laughed. "You're too down to earth to be a Theodore."

"What does that even mean?"

"Doesn't matter, all that matters is I was right!"

Ted couldn't stop smiling. "Are you satisfied with being right enough to not care about my last name, then?"

"In your dreams, Edward."

Ted swallowed. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he was already in this deep, too late to back out now.

"Alright, do an internet search for the scientific name of wolves."

It was quiet for a moment before Vic spoke.

"Canis Lupus?"

"Right," Ted smirked, "and this is probably the part where you decide you hate me. Because next, you take those letters and rearrange them into my last name. You'll only need five of them though."

Vic groaned. "Ted that is an awful clue!"

"I don't know, it stretches your mind and gets your brain thinking. Those are things that are supposed to help stop Alzheimer's. So really, I'm helping you, Weasley, I'm preserving your brain for your future self."

"You're so full of it," Vic laughed. "Come on, Ted, give me more than a word scramble."

Ted could feel the smile stretching across his face.

"Please, Ted." Vic's voice went soft and Ted felt himself falling.

"Alright, one last clue," he looked over at his desk and the picture of him and his mum when he was ten, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "There's a flower, it's my last name. It's usually purple, but they come in pink and blue and orange too."

"You should send me a picture of the flower."

Ted rolled his eyes. "I have to make you work for something Weasley."

"Fine," she laughed, "I'm turning on my laptop."

"You're going to try and search for it? What is your search even going to be?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She teased.

"I would actually," Ted chuckled. "That way the next time someone wants to guess my name I can make it harder."

"I can't believe it! It worked!"

"What's my last name then, Weasley?"

"Lupin!"

Ted laughed. "What the hell did you search?!"

"Canis Lupus flower."

"Well done, Vic," Ted picked at one of the stray threads on his blanket.

"Why thank you, Edward Lupin."

His name felt like a song when she said it.

"Not a bad name, eh?"

"I've heard worse," Vic's voice was soft again. "But you still haven't told me your middle name."

"No way, Weasley," he laughed, "I don't know that about you, so I'm not giving you that information about me."

"If I tell you my middle name will you tell me yours?"

Ted felt his heart rate increase

"Yeah, I think that's fair."

It was quiet a moment before Vic made her decision. "It's Gabrielle, it's my aunt's name."

"Victoire Gabrielle Weasley," Teddy tried it out and it felt like honey on his tongue.

Vic cleared her throat, "Alright, your turn, what's your middle name?"

"Remus, after my dad," Ted answered without hesitation, "And Edward is after my grandfather."

"Edward Remus Lupin, that has a nice flow to it."

Ted smiled. "I've always been fond of my name."

It was contentedly quiet between them and then Ted got up the courage to ask something he'd been thinking about since Jamie said Vic had him reading a rough draft of a book she wrote.

"So, you're writing a book?"

Vic was silent a while longer before she answered. "Yeah, I, er, I've been working on it since uni."

"And you got a communications degree instead of focusing on creative writing because…?" Ted held his breath, worried that Vic would shut down this conversation.

"Well, I thought a communications degree would pay the bills, you know?"

"Authors do tend to have day jobs," Ted chuckled. "So, what's this story about? From someone as brilliant as you are, I'm sure it's a best-seller waiting to break all the records."

"Well, it's a fantasy epic," Vic started but then she went silent. "Oh, Sean is calling, you alright if we call it a night?"

Ted leaned his head back into the wall and closed his eyes. "Sure, I'll see you Monday."

"Thanks, Ted. See you Monday."

Teddy tossed his phone back on his night table. He might as well find something to distract himself from how much it sucked to be falling for a girl that was so far out of his reach. He changed into his P.J.s and then decided he would see if Kalil was in the mood for some late-night Mario Kart or something, but his phone buzzed against his table.

Vic: What is it with people deciding they have to call other people when they're drunk?

Ted sighed; he shouldn't do this. He should act like he fell asleep and text her in the morning.

Vic: He's singing me the song playing at the pub. It's Jamie's Got A Gun.

Ted laughed and gave in.

Ted: Maybe it's code ;)

Vic: That would be the worst way to tell me he was in trouble!

Ted grinned.

Ted: But think of the possibilities! You could send all sorts of messages with songs!

He watched Vic's typing icon and laughed when her message came through.

Vic: You mean like Viva la Vida?

Ted: You fancy yourself a disgraced king?

Vic: I'm full of surprises.

Ted: That you are Weasley.

Ted smiled as he watched Vic's typing icon blink on his screen.

Vic: I finally convinced him to go home and get some water. I'll see you on Monday, Edward Remus Lupin. ;)

Vic: Goodnight, Victoire Gabrielle Weasley.

He set his phone back down on his night table and flipped the lamp off.

Monday couldn't get here fast enough.

OoOoOoOoO

Ted laughed when he walked into the office Monday morning. His wolf figurine sat in the center of his desk with a fence built out of paperclips around it.

"Afraid he'll run back to you?"

"I just want him to understand that he has to stay with you." Vic grinned.

Ted moved his wolf out of the corral and set him down closer to Vic's desk.

"There, now he won't feel like you've abandoned him."

"What about my fence?" Vic teased.

"Oh, I think I'll see what I can get for it on eBay. There's bound to be someone out there who wants a paperclip fence."

"Start the bidding at ten quid. I'll accept nothing less for my artwork."

"Maybe we should paint it, raise its value." Ted laughed at the face Vic made.

"You want to ruin it? How dare you suggest such things!"

"I'm just saying," Ted laughed, "Why settle for less when we could maybe get twelve quid for it instead of ten?"

"You mean settle for eight quid because you had to ruin it with paint." She shot back with a laugh.

"Color makes everything better."

"Of course, you think that," Vic grinned and gestured to his hair.

Ted ruffled his hair, "Well, you told me you liked it that first day, so I think you just proved my point."

Vic smiled and looked down at her hands. "So, did you, did you really want to know about my book?"

"Of course, I do," Ted felt like she'd just offered him fifty pounds. "Is it YA or NA or YMCA?"

Vic laughed and started to give him the sparsest of details.

"That's all you're going to tell me?" Ted threw his hands up. "Come on, you can't expect me to believe you only want to tell me the basics. You've been working on this epic for more than three years!"

"Well, I mean, Sean doesn't really like to hear about it, and I just thought…"

"I'm not Sean, Vic," Ted rolled his eyes. "I want to know everything, so let's get to it."

Vic gave him a shy smile, "If you're sure?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

She smiled and before Ted knew it, they'd lost the first hour of the workday.

"Ok, let's get some work done, and then you can tell me the rest." Ted laughed. "I haven't even logged in yet."

"You're sure you want to hear how it ends?" Vic teased him.

"So torturous," Ted grinned at her.

Vic went to respond but her desk phone rang and for a moment she looked torn before turning her chair back to her desk and answering the call.

Ted grinned to himself as he went back to getting set up for the day. Things were going well, they were having fun, and he was settling happily into not just the position, but also the goal of growing their department into the first branch of Bread & Butter to break off and stand on its own.

But it wasn't so great when Sean showed up at lunch and took Vic for the rest of the day. She texted him an hour after they'd left and asked that he cover for her in the case that Ron showed up, and she asked Ted to forward her desk phone to her cell phone. Ted did so, and then spent the rest of the day feeling like an idiot.

And things continued to go up and down as they moved into winter and approached Christmas.

It only made things harder when Ted realized that he wasn't hiding his attraction to Vic well from anyone, except maybe Vic.

"Why are you looking at stuffed toys that look like wolves?" Kalil sat down next to him on the sofa and leant in to see his laptop screen a bit more than a week before Christmas.

"I was thinking of giving it as a present," Ted defended.

"Right, but for whom?" Kalil gave him a pointed stare and Ted rolled his eyes.

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"Ted! You're buying a present for your coworker who is in a relationship!"

"I never said it was for Vic!" Ted shut his laptop.

"You didn't have to," Kalil shook his head. "Look, Ted, I'm worried about you. You're obsessed with Vic and she's off-limits. You need to get out of your head. Come to the pub with me and Maira tonight. I'm sure she can get a few people to come too. You need to remember that there are more women in this city than just your coworker."

"Kalil," Ted ran his hands over his face.

"What would you do if she married Sean?"

Ted felt like Kalil had just punched him in the stomach. He couldn't breathe for a moment and his chest felt like it was collapsing.

"See," Kalil put a hand on his shoulder, "I can see it in your face, Ted, you're falling for her. Stop it! Get out and find someone just as great. Come to the pub tonight."

Ted let out a long breath, and he couldn't help but think that maybe, maybe Kalil was right. Vic seemed to like to goof around with him, but she'd shown no signs of leaving Sean for him. No matter how many times Sean let her down, no matter how many times he did something that she didn't like, she stayed. And the nearly five months of working with her had been full of huge highs and incredible lows. He'd loved the moments where he felt like it was just the two of them, but walking out after work on the days Sean picked her up to find he hadn't waited long enough after she'd left as he got a full view of Sean's tongue down her throat left him feeling like a loser.

"Alright," Ted nodded, "I'll come tonight."

Kalil squeezed his shoulder, "Good on you, mate. You'll see, this will be a good thing."

Ted nodded, but a part of him wondered if it really was.

Even with his misgivings, Ted was ready to head out when Maira showed up at their flat.

"I'm so glad you're coming with us!" Maira hugged him. "I've asked a friend to meet us there, I think you'll have fun!"

Ted rubbed the back of his neck, "Thanks, Maira, I appreciate it."

"Let's head out then," Kalil took Maira's hand and led them out into the cold.

Ted realized after they'd been out for a bit, just the three of them, that this was a good idea. He hadn't gone out much at all since before finals in May. Getting to laugh and talk with friends felt freeing.

"Oh, there's Nicki!" Maira jumped up and waved her friend over to their table.

Ted turned around to see a woman who could have been described as Vic's opposite. She had black hair with lime green highlights and it was cut in choppy layers, the longest barely touching her shoulders. And while Vic tended to wear conservatively colored clothes, at least at work and the one Saturday Ted had seen her, Nicki was wearing a bright pink blouse with teal trousers; her orange coat draped over her arm.

"Nicki this is Kalil's roommate, Ted Lupin. Ted this is my friend Nicki Choi."

"It's nice to meet you, and I love your hair!" She shook his hand across the table as she sat down.

"Thanks, I like yours as well." Ted smiled. Nicki wasn't Vic, but she definitely put out the vibe that she liked to have a good time.

And she did. Nicki was loud and fun and not afraid of anything. She tried anything she was put up to. She laughed loudly. She defended her opinions with passion, even if he flat out told her she was wrong. Nicki reminded Ted a bit of the stories he had heard about his mum when she was his age.

Ted was having fun, and so when Nicki scooted closer to him, he didn't think about it when he draped his arm across her shoulders. And when she rested her head on his shoulder, he let her. A small part of him pushed back, but Ted told that part of him that if Vic could snog Sean in the car park, then he could let a cool woman rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'm calling it a night," Nicki moved to hug Maira at about half eleven. Then she turned to Ted. "Will you wait with me out front for my Uber?"

"Sure thing," Ted nodded and moved to follow her. He tried to ignore the way Kalil grinned at him.

"This was fun," Nicki smiled up at him and pulled her orange coat closer around her.

"Yeah," Ted nodded, "yeah it was."

"So, who broke your heart?"

Ted blinked. "What?"

"You have 'heartbroken' written all over your face. I figured that was why Maira called me." She smiled sympathetically at him.

"I, er, it's complicated." Ted shook his head and rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yeah," Ted chuckled, "yeah, I actually had a lot of fun."

"We could keep having fun. I don't expect you to move into another relationship with me, but we could just have fun, spend some time reminding you that hearts heal."

Ted hesitated. He didn't know why, but he did. Nicki was amazing. He'd be an idiot to turn her down.

"Here," Nicki pulled out a gum wrapper and pen from her clutch and wrote on it. "This is my number. Think about it, Ted, I think we could have a lot of fun together."

Ted nodded as he took the gum wrapper. "Thanks, I, er, I'll think about it, alright?"

Nicki smiled and then nodded a few cars down from the curb. "There's my Uber. Thanks, Ted."

She stepped forward and kissed his cheek, her cold lips managing to warm just the skin they touched.

Ted stood in the cold and watched her wave once before climbing into the Uber. He waved back and then the car pulled away.

He took a moment before he went back inside. Gum wrapper still clasped in his hand. He'd had fun with Nicki, and she obviously had fun with him. She was fun and beautiful and he admired her spunk and attitude.

So why was he hesitating?

Ted slipped the wrapper into his wallet and went back inside.

"That took some time," Kalil smirked at him.

"Er, yeah, I, we talked," Ted took a swig from his drink.

"Nicki is amazing, Ted," Maira smiled.

"Yeah, yeah she's, she's really cool, I, er, she gave me her number."

"You're going to call her, right?" Kalil asked.

"I, er, I think I might, yeah."

Kalil stared at him like he was stupid and Ted sighed.

"I think I'm done for tonight, mates. I'll catch an Uber home, let you two enjoy the rest of your night." Ted didn't wait for a response. He forced a smile and moved to the door. The pub wasn't all that far from their flat, and so Ted decided to walk it instead of requesting the ride.

The cold was bitter, but it helped to clear his head, though not enough to figure out what he should do. He wanted to hope that maybe Vic would suddenly return his feelings and dump Sean and be with him. But even with all the problems he could see she was having with Sean, Vic still stayed. A part of Ted feared she always would.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Monday morning rolled around and Ted was trying to figure out if he was looking forward or not to seeing Vic as he drove into work. He'd spent Sunday more or less holed up in his room, and Kalil seemed content to let Ted work through this one on his own. That didn't mean Ted was any surer one way or the other, though.

But when Ted walked into the office, he paused.

Vic hadn't made it in yet.

That felt weird. Ted was never late, but Vic was always early. He tried to shrug it off and get himself settled in for the day. She'd probably hit traffic was all. But even as he kept telling himself that, Ted kept trying to see around the corner of the building out the window into the car park.

Finally, he heard the door push open and Ted spun in his chair, ready to razz her for being late. But his eyes fell on her hand as she pulled off her glove with her teeth.

"You've got to be kidding me." He'd said it before he could stop himself.

"I know!" Vic smiled down at her ring. "I would have thought he would have waited for Christmas or New Year's, but he asked last night!"

"That's," Ted forced a smile, "wow. I, er, congratulations."

"Thanks," Vic smiled at the ring again and then started getting settled into her desk.

Ted thought he might vomit. He needed to get out. He couldn't be here, not with her, not now, now that she'd chosen Sean permanently.

He picked up his desk phone and forwarded it to his cell. Then he shut down his laptop.

"Are you going somewhere?" Vic looked over as he packed up.

"I have a few sales calls I'm going on today."

"Oh, well, are we still good for dinner?"

Ted paused. He'd forgotten all about their Monday and Wednesday meetings over dinner. Those evenings that he looked forward to every week. The moments that he felt connected to her in a way that felt real to him.

"I actually have something tonight. I'm sorry I should have remembered to tell you on Friday." He zipped up his backpack and grabbed his coat.

"I'll see you tomorrow, and congrats again, it's brilliant."

"Thanks," Vic frowned, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Right," Ted nodded and left without a second glance.

He was grateful that she wouldn't be able to see him from the window as he stepped into the car park. How could he have been so stupid? Of course, she chose Sean. Ted had wanted her to like him so much he'd blinded himself to the fact that she was in love with her boyfriend, tosser that he was.

Ted drove home and set up at his desk in his room to get back to work. He tossed his wallet on his dresser and paused. He pulled out the gum wrapper and called Nicki.

It went straight to voicemail, and Ted almost hung up, almost gave into that part of him that hoped Vic would choose him, but he pushed that aside and left a message.

"Hey, Nicki, it's Ted. I was calling to see if you wanted to grab a drink or something. I, er, I hope to hear back from you. Bye."

He set his phone down on the desk and powered on his laptop. Then his phone buzzed.

Nicki: Hey Ted, it's Nicki, I'm in a meeting, but would you like to meet for lunch today?

Ted didn't let himself hesitate this time.

Ted: Sounds great, send me an address and time. I'll meet you there.

#Endeavor #tedoire #tedoire fanfic #tedoire fanfiction #tedoire au #teddy x victoire #teddy x vic #ted x vic #teddy lupin x victoire weasley #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #muggle au #tedoire muggle au #everyone lives muggle au #coworkers romance #fluff #romance #harry potter fanfiction

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the-jade-cross · 4 years

Text

Journey to Middle Earth - Chapter 14

Summary – What if JRR Tolkien never gave Thorin a love story… because the person that was meant to be Thorin’s was not yet born when he wrote the Hobbit? Sara journeys from her world to Middle Earth after an accident, with a mission. To change something about the Hobbit story… but she is not sure what. What she does not know is that while trying to prevent something from happening, something new might arise between her and the dwarf prince….even if it is not on the agenda!

Warnings – None, no explicit scenes, some kissing, violence, frightening creatures, mentions of abuse.

Pairings – Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Sara knew that if she explained the danger Thorin was in, she would get some reactions. While most of the company carried on like normal but did make an effort to keep an eye on Thorin, Bilbo went so far as to try and wiggle the details out of Sara and once or twice, she almost did. They would be talking about something completely unrelated and Bilbo was throw in a question asking who Thorin was in danger of and Sara would almost answer him if she didn’t have such quick reactions.

She had only told them that in the previous timeline, Thorin was in danger. She didn’t specifically mention when, where or by whom and didn’t tell them that Fili and Kili were involved in the matter. Not on did she notice a change in the dwarves because of this information, but they also treated her differently. They always made sure that she never got the night watch shifts and Nori, Ori and Dori had even helped her clean Thorin’s chamber so she could sleep in a well-lit, clean bedroom.

Because Oin was not with them, Balin took it upon himself to monitor what foods and smells Sara encountered to eliminate the girl’s feelings of nausea and vomiting. Bombur always reserved extra servings of food for Sara and Dwalin always ensured that Thorin and Sara were at least six feet apart. (Social distancing pun intended;))

Sara appreciated their help and the thoughtfulness but she began to worry that Thorin would notice the change and begin to suspect why Sara was getting special treatment.

Not only that, even though Sara tried to avoid an argument with Thorin for the sake of her very high emotions and for the baby’s wellbeing, she missed him dearly and with the doubling of her “guard”, she never got a moment alone with him.

In that case, she decided to go against Dwalin’s advice of plenty of sleep in the safely locked royal chamber and snuck out to locate the dwarf prince.

This proved simple since everyone who wasn’t Thorin or the one on guard were in an ale stupor. Slipping into the treasure room, Sara found Thorin pouring over a table of teeny tiny white, pink and blue gems.

“Thorin?” she whispered softly in the hopes of not surprising him.

The dwarf spun around even though her voice had been soft, and his face lit up, “Givashel! I thought you were asleep,”

Sara almost saw a glimpse of the old Thorin then but then she realized that he didn’t call her by her name…. but by “my treasure”…

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought…” she started.

Before she could invite him to rest, Thorin had jumped up and grabbed something from the table and held it out to her with a huge smile.

“This will make you happy.” He said, holding out the most beautiful ring Sara had ever seen with a pale pink gem in the center of the golden band, “It is better than that trash I made you in the mountain village.”

Sara bit her lip. She had grown fond of the solid gold band that Thorin had fashioned for her on the day of their marriage. It was simple but made of love…

“It is beautiful Thorin,” she said, noticing how sunken in his eyes and cheeks were from lack of sleep.

When she made no move to take it, Thorin’s smile faded into a frown, “You do not like it!?”

“No, I love it…” Sara assured him, taking the ring from his waiting hands and slipping it onto her ring finger, right above her original wedding ring. “I just… I am worried about you! You never eat or sleep. You’re gonna kill yourself at this rate!”

“I do not need to be babied!” Thorin growled.

“I am not babying you! I am caring about you! I am your wife and it is by duty!” Sara snapped.

Thorin grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall, “And that is the only reason?”

Sara felt her heart drop. Was that why he was snappy with her? Because he thought she only did things because they were married? The girl gently reached up and touched his pale cheek, feeling tears prick her eyes at the pain in his orbs.

“No, because whenever I see you sad or in pain, I breaks my heart,” She whispered.

His eyes shining with tears, Thorin dipped down slowly and brushed his lips over hers before pausing as if testing the waters.

“I love you,” Sara murmured.

That was the only invitation Thorin needed before he caught her lips in a full kiss.

Sara half expected it to be heated with hunger and anger and was surprised when she felt his body tremble from emotion, his lips caressing hers gently and full of love. When Sara looped her arms around his neck, Thorin took the invitation and scooped her into his arms. Not breaking the kiss, he took her to their bed chamber.

When Sara woke to the birds chirping, she no longer felt the warm and secure arms that had embraced her all night, nor the gentle breathing noises and the soft lips that had fallen asleep pressed to her forehead. The girl sighed, burying her face in the plush pillow to muffle the whimpers and sobs that ripped from her throat as her heart shattered. She was jolted from her misery by a loud echoing voice that called out.

“Hello!? Bombur…. Bifur…. Anyone!”

The girl was up in an instant, clothing her naked form before pouring warm water on her face in the hopes of easing her red, puffy eyes.

When she burst from her room, she almost tripped over Mason who had come in search of his master. She stumbled into the dining room just in time to find Oin, Bofur, Fili and Kili happily embracing their fellow dwarves. Oin was the first to notice Sara and his eyes widened at the sight of the flushed, slightly more round than he remembered, snuggling into a sweater young girl.

“Mahal…”

All eyes turned to Sara and the girl was engulfed by Fili and Kili who began chattering her ear off.

“You’re alright!” Kili screeched.

“Axel and Omar send their best,” Fili assured her.

As the two brothers ranted, Oin pushed through and touched Sara’s abdomen, examining her and the girl was happy that he chose to not mention the puffy red eyes that she had managed to disguise from everyone but Oin who never missed a thing.

“Lass, you are with Bairns!” he whispered.

Sara’s eyes widened, “Bairns…. As in multiple!?”

Oin nodded with a huge smile, “With your size and how much you are already showing, there is no way it could be two… lass, I think you might be carrying three!”

********

“Twins!?” Dwalin whisper-yelled, “Oin, perhaps half of your brain got roasted by dragon fire.”

Oin shook his head, never taking his eyes off the petite red head who’s eyes shone with joy and love but her face sheet white with worry and fear.

“The lass has already begun to show. She is barely a week and already she has the motherly glow and her symptoms are kicking in. This does not usually happen till the fourth or fifth week.”

“We thought that because the Bairn is part human, part dwarf that it would explain the early symptoms,” Balin intervened.

Oin nodded, “That is so, that would explain the symptoms but Sara is already bumping which can only be explained by the number of bairns she carries.”

Sara glanced down at her abdomen and smoothed the sweater she wore, only to realize that Oin was right. Sara had never been one to worry about her weight and she had not realized that her loose pants and sweater hid the barely noticeable bump. She looked at Oin, her face shining with worry.

“How long do you think the pregnancy will be?”

Oin pursed his lips in thought, “At the most…. Four to five months.”

“And the earliest?” Balin asked, interrupting Dwalin who had been about to ask the same question, leaving him with his mouth open.

“Considering the facts…” Oin mumbled, “One to two months.”

Sara’s eyes bulged, “So as far as we know, I could be about a fifth or fourth through my pregnancy?”

Oin nodded, “Aye. Your appetite will continue to grow and you will begin craving strange foods.”

Sara did not really worry about that for she knew it would come but her mind was buzzing. Azog would be attacking Erabor and Dale in the next two days… she needed to leave the mountain and come up with a plan. Not only that, she needed to ensure that her brothers would be safe during the battle.

“I’m gonna be a cousin!” Kili hooted.

Fili was about to join in with the celebration when Dwalin whacked them over the head to shut them up just as the door opened and in strode Thorin.

“Everyone to the gate, now!” he growled.

As the prince began to leave, the company looked to Sara, only to realize from the look in her eyes that it was the Laketown people arriving. Sara hurried over to Thorin and grasped his forearm. The dwarf looked at her with no expression in his pale blue eyes.

“You stay here. We need to take care of this.”

Sara nodded, not bothering to object, “I will see you later Thorin.”

With that, she stood on tiptoe and planted a loving kiss on his lips. Thorin did not react but Sara knew that the dwarves were staring with worried looks on their faces, knowing that her words were not really “see you later” but “goodbye for now”.

The girl looked at the dwarves and smiled gently at them before exiting the room. She hurried down the corridors to her chamber and she dove in, locking the door behind her. She needed to move quickly. Thorin would begin to rebuild the gate and she didn’t want him to realize her absence. Grabbing her bag, she loaded her knife, notebook, gun and a few pairs of clothes in before strapping her bow and swords to her back. She turned to Mason and softly told him to follow her only to open the door and find a small pouch on the floor outside with a note attached to it.

Sara, be safe. Use the hidden door to leave and give my best to Ryder, Omar and Axel. We will miss you until we meet again. Bombur insisted that you take the food in the pouch. It will last you a few days. Dwalin also put in a bag of explosive dust. He said that it might help you with your plan. Keep safe my queen. – Balin.

Sara smile and hastily placed the pouch in her began before rushing down the corridors to where the hidden door was. She halted as she passed the treasure room. No point in leaving a note in the bedroom since Thorin never went there. She reached to her pocket and drew out the letter she had written Thorin before pinning it to the door of the treasure room. Takin gone last look over her shoulder, she slipped up the staircase, through the hidden door and into the fresh air. She looked down at Mason who stood by her side like a sentry. She then reached down and rubbed her stomach before feeling tears prick her eyes.

“Don’t worry babies. We will see your daddy again… and he will be alive. I promise you.”

Shifting her bag and weapons, she began the slow climb down the stairs with mason following closely behind. They had just reached the bottom when Sara froze and touched the stone that made up a good amount of the surrounding rock.

“Magnesium…” She whispered.

Her mind raced back to the time when Axel practically forced her to watch ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ staring Josh Hutcherson for school. Sara’s face lit into a huge smile and she turned to Mason.

“I’ve got an idea,” she whispered, “Good thing Dwalin gave me extra explosives.”

About six hours later when Thorin made his way back to the treasure room after leaving the rest of the company to continue stacking stone, he was confused to find a small piece of paper tied to the door. Thinking perhaps it was another letter from Sara asking him to get some rest and eat, he made to tear it off and crumble it when he noticed two words that made him freeze.

I’m sorry.

He quickly unraveled the crumpled letter and scanned the letter hastily before reading it a second time, very slowly this time:

Dear Thorin,

I’m sorry that I am telling you this in a letter instead of in person, but I know that if I tried to explain the situation to you in person, you would not let me leave. I am leaving to go to Dale for a while. I need to check on my brothers and ensure that they are safe and well. I promise, I am not leaving you nor betraying you, but this is something I have to do to ensure that nothing terrible happens to anyone. Please trust me and know that I love you more than you can even imagine. Be strong Thorin and fight this sickness that has changed you. Remember, I will love you no matter what, but you have to fight this.

I love you with my whole heart.

Your wife, Sara

Thorin hadn’t realized it but by the time he had read the letter a fourth time, a single tear had escaped his eye and he stood there frozen, not believing what had just happened…. But his pain and misery was soon ended when he heard the company talking and he returned to his serious self, storming into the treasure room, leaving the letter abandoned on the floor.

*******

When Sara and Mason slipped through the back entrance of Dale, she was glad to find that almost all the inhabitants were at the front gates, welcoming Thranduil, his army of elves and his carts of food. However, the joy at having an easy entrance was clouded by fear. She only had till morning to get a plan under way. She did not have to look far before she rounded a corner and smacked into a hard chest, spluttering an apology.

“Sara?” A familiar, deep voice rumbled.

Sara lifted her eyes and a huge grin split across her face when she recognized the tall, bear like figure of Zain.

“You’re okay!” Sara squealed, throwing her arms around the big man’s abdomen. When she pulled away, she noticed a silver bracelet on his thick wrist and her eyes widened. Grace had told her that human custom was instead of beads, two betrothal silver bracelets were used to signify the members of an engagement or betrothal.

“And engaged!” Sara chirped with joy at the blush on Zain’s smiling face as he tried to hide behind his curls.

The tall man smiled and nodded, “Aye, Rose is a special girl.”

Sara’s eyes widened further, “Rose!? As in the Rose from the mountain village!?”

Zain nodded and Sara breathed a sigh of relief, “She and Deke… are they okay? What about my brothers?”

Zain nodded, “Deke and Rose are well. They are with Grace and the kids. Axel, Omar and Ryder are over here…”

Sara joyfully followed Zain to a corner of the marketplace to find her brothers sitting with Deke, Rose and Grace’s family. Omar was the first to see her and leapt to his feet, running over to embrace his big sister. As Axel and Ryder came for their hugs, Omar went to pet Mason.

“What are you doing her!?” Axel whisper yelled, “Shouldn’t you be with our husband?”

Sara bit her lip, “Thorin is too far gone. I need to come up with a plan to save him, Fili and Kili before dawn when Thranduil attacks Erabor and Dain appears.”

Axel nodded, “Whatever you need help with, you can count me in.”

Sara beamed at her brother, “I noticed that there is Magnesium all over Erabor. I need to find out if there is any on Ravenhill.”

Axel cocked his head quizzically, “Who or what are you planning on blasting to smithereens?”

Sara smiled, “I have got a backup plan for Thorin but I need to find out if there is Magnesium where Fili is…. “Killed”. And also to find out how to get him out of there.”

“What about Kili?” her brother quizzed.

Sara shook her head, “That is a part of the plan that I haven’t figured out yet.”

“If only Mithril weren’t so scarce,” Omar muttered.

Axel nodded in agreement when suddenly Sara’s eyes widened and she spun Axel around to face her, “Axel… you took those snorkeling diving lessons right?”

Axel nodded, “Yeah… .why?”

Sara smirked, “I need you to go swimming for something.”

All three of her brothers tilted their heads in confusion. Sara just smiled, “Mithril is not the only thing that is impenetrable.”

When Axel gave her a look as if to say, ‘you are making no sense and I cannot understand a thing you are saying’, Sara smirked.

“What did Thorin say to Bilbo about mithril?”

Omar hummed in thought, “no blade can pierce it.” Sara smiled, “And what did Bilbo tell Frodo?”

“Ooh!” Ryder squealed, “I know! He said… ‘As light as a feather and as hard as dragon scales’!”

All at once, her brothers caught onto what she was getting at and smiled in excitement.

Sara beamed, “Now, while you and Omar re off doing that, I am taking a hike up to Ravenhill.”

The girl got to her feet and made to call Mason hen the whiff of rotting, burnt bones from the past Dale inhabitants reached her nose and she doubled over, puking into a nearby corner, away from the others.

Grace hastily poured a mug of water while her husband helped hold back Sara’s hair as she emptied her stomach onto the gravel. After she finished and washed her mouth with water, she turned to find Axel looking at her suspiciously while Omar and Ryder looked highly concerned. “Well do that,” Axel remarked, “Right after you tell us the whole story. What is going on!?”

“Azog and Bolg will be attacking tomorrow,” Sara pointed out, trying to avoid the question, “It would be best if Grace, Rose and the kids left for the mountain village.”

“Sara Renee,” Axel said sternly, “What was the ulterior motive you had for leaving Thorin and Erabor?”

Sara opened her mouth to escape the real answer but Axel gave her a warning look.

The girl sighed, “You might be expecting a niece or nephew soon and because every event in Middle Earth is against us, you might meet them sooner than expected.”

**********

Sara did a full 180 degree turn as she studied the ledge where Azog would stand as he killed Fili. She scanned until her eyes fell on a particularly smooth layer of rock, right where Fili would land after Azog dropped him. If Azog happened to drop Fili over the ledge when Sara set her plan in motion, she needed to make sure Fili wouldn’t die from the fall. Sara ran her hands over the smooth rock, partially covered by snow which hid it well. How did it not break under Fili’s weight? Sara tapped the rock around the match of Muscovite and found that it was a narrow section of the thin rock… with water underneath? From the sound of it, it was a good amount of water… possibly an underground reservoir that connected to the lake and waterfall that was frozen over. Sara pulled out her sketch book and began to do the math.

“If the section is this wide… with this distance between the rock and the water… and Fili’s weight didn’t break it…and this weight would be needed to break through the rock…Then Fili’s weight should be around this much… so I would need this additional weight…. Rocks will work as good additional weight… just add the extra weight to the rock and when Fili drops….just need to know wone thing… how do you ask a guy how much he weighs!?”

******

“Do you think it will be just like in the movie?” Omar whispered as the four children watched Bard stand at the huge gate of Erabor, negotiating through the peephole. The four kids were sitting in the tower of Dale, peering over the railing in the hopes of not being spotted by a particular grump dwarf king.

“Either that or Thorin will poke bard’s eye out with an arrow through the hole,” Axel mumbled.

Sara poked her brother in a gentle scolding manner. Axel smirked, “Oh, Omar and I got that shipment you requested.”

He held up a small sack and Sara beamed, taking it off his hands and tucking it under her arm. “When Grace and Rose leave with the children tonight, Ryder and Mason must go with them. It is dangerous enough for Omar.” Sara whispered to Axel who nodded in agreement.

“You are going to the gate with Brad and Thranduil tomorrow right?” Axel whispered, “Anything you want me to tell Bilbo?”

Sara nodded, “Give him this,” She said, handing Axel a folded note, “And tell him to be careful.”

Axel smiled but being the curious teenage boy he was, he opened the note and read it.

“Sara, what goes through your head these days? I think the babies are getting to you! Why do you need to know Fili’s body weight? Are you using him as a mold for the baby’s clothes!?”

Sara smirked, “Don’t worry about it. I just needed to make sure I estimated his weight right. it is part of the plan.”

“What about Azog and Thorin? Did you figure out a plan B for Plan B in case Plan X fails and when that fails, if plan B might fail?”

Sara shook her head, “Hopefully Plan A or Plan A’s Plan B will work.”

Axel nodded with worry etched across his face, “You know you only have three shots left.”

Sara sighed, “I am well aware.”

“You have three shots to save the three dwarves,” Ryder chirped.

Sara smiled, “I wish life were that simple bro, but life has a way of working against you.”

“Which can also be titled: The existence of Azog and Bolg.” Omar muttered which made Axel’s blue eyes widen.

“Sara, Azog is out to destroy the line of Durin!”

“Duh!” Omar mumbled, “He’s out to deliver us peaches and pineapple!”

“Sara,” Axel whisper yelled, ignoring Omar, “You happen to be carrying the next two heirs of Durin!”

Sara shrugged, “Well I don’t make it a habit of telling orcs that I am pregnant with Thorin Oakenshield’s children who happens to be king under the mountain, the dwarf Azog is out to kill which happens to make me Queen of Era…. Oh no!”

“Now you get it,” Axel mumbled as his sister’s face paled.

“What is it?” Omar asked, confused.

“Looks like we’ll need a plan B for Plan B, second edition,” Axel remarked.

***********

“Bard!” Sara called, deciding to not call him Mr. Bard since that sounded too American. “Excuse me!”

Bard turned to see Sara hurrying over to him and he smiled, “What can I do for you little lady?”

“erm…” Sara mumbled, “My name is Sara…”

Bard’s eyes widened, “I have heard of you… you are a member of the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Sara looked down, “Not anymore.”

Bard’s face softened, “you ran away, like the halfling?”

Sara nodded, “I know that makes me look like a coward…”

“Not at all,” Bard assured her, “You had to do what was for the best to protect yourself.”

“I was wondering if I could ride out with you tomorrow when you declare war on Thorin?”

Bard’s eyes widened, “You knew of that?”

Sara nodded which seemed enough to convince Bard, “Very well, but on the condition, you ride on my horse behind me. If Thorin is angry to see you, I do not want you shot.”

Sara beamed and nodded, “Thank you!”

She made to leave when she heard a voice behind her, “So it is you.”

Sara spun around to come face to face with the elven king, Thranduil. She bowed her head but Thranduil lifted her chin with his finger and studied her face.

“When I heard that Thorin Oakenshield had taken a bride, I did not believe it,” he touched the beads in her hair and eyed the two rings on her finger, “But I see that it is true.”

The elf stepped back when he saw Sara’s eyes flare in warning at his close proximity.

“What inclined the queen of Erabor to leave her throne and spouse?” the elf king inquired.

Sara squared her shoulders, “I did not marry Thorin for his throne. Nor di I leave him. I left the mountain to protect him and his…”

When she cut herself off, Thranduil frowned but his sharp eyes caught sight of the slight bump that was visible beneath her tunic.

His eyes widened, “His heir… this may work to our advantage.”

Bard went to object to Thranduil’s selfish plan but Sara intervened. “I will cooperate but on my terms.”

“Fair enough,” the elf smirked.

*********

“Do I have to go?” Ryder pleaded, his arm around Mason’s fluffy neck s his brothers and sister bade him farewell.

Sara smiled as she kissed his curls, “it will be safer for you. Tomorrow Grace and Rose will bring you all back and everything will be well again.”

Ryder stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, “Don’t forget to consider the names I picked for the babies!”

“We don’t even know the gender yet,” Omar observed.

“Which names did you pick?” Axel inquired, “Legolas Jr. and Pippin?”

Ryder shook his head, “That was Ruby’s idea. I picked Charlie Brown and Snoopie.”

********

“You ready for this?” Bard whispered to Sara who sat perched behind him in the saddle, her arms around his middle, his tall stature hiding her from sight.

“Yeah… totally…” Sara whispered back, “I am totally ready to reveal to my ornery dwarf husband that I am pregnant with his twin children, I ran away because I was afraid of him and I knew that Bilbo had the Arkenstone…. Yeah…. Definitely.”

Bard chuckled softly before pulling his mare to a halt next to Thranduil’s elk. Sara cringed when she heard an arrow strike the ground in front of the elk and Thorin’s voice bellowed from above.

“The next one will be between your eyes,” Thorin growled, followed by the cheers of the company.

Sara stifled a giggle when she heard the dwarves gasp when the elves pulled their bows on them at the nod from Thranduil.

“Payment of your treasures has been offered and accepted,” Thranduil growled through his teeth.

“What payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!” Thorin bellowed angrily.

Bard reached into his coat and drew out the Arkenstone, “We have this!”

Sara felt a hand touch her leg and looked to see Gandalf standing there next to the horse, shrouded by his big grey hat and cloak, “Bilbo went back didn’t he?”

Sara nodded, “he will be fine… with a little help from you.”

Gandalf smiled before leaning up and whispering something to the girl who beamed with joy.

“The Arkenstone is in this mountain!” Thorin yelled, startling Sara, “It is a trick!”

Sara bit her lip, knowing that Bilbo had appeared.

“What do we do?” Bard whispered with worry, “Thorin may kill him!”

Sara shook her head, “Help me down in a moment…”

“Curse you!” Thorin bellowed at Bilbo, seeing red as he dragged Bilbo to the edge and pushed him half over, “And curse the wizard who chose you for this company!”

Thorin froze in his movements when he heard Gandalf’s rumbling voice call out, “If you dislike my burglar, then please do not hurt him, return him to me!”

Thorin loosened his grip on the hobbit who went scurrying away from him instantly and snuck down the rope while Thorin sneered at Gandalf.

“Never again will I have dealings with wizards or shire rats!” he hissed.

“You are not making a splendid figure as king under the mountain are you?” Gandalf retorted. “You have fallen so far into greed and envy that you drove your own wife away.”

“You know nothing about me!” Thorin growled, “Not me, nor Sara!”

At those words, Gandalf, Bard and Thranduil all turned to Sara who gripped Bard’s hand and slipped from his horse to come stand next to Gandalf. Thorin’s eyes widened at the sight of the girl and he let out a shaky breath.

“What are you doing with those traitors!” He snapped, his eyes darkening with anger but glistening with sadness.

Sara growled under her breath, “If anyone is a traitor it is you Thorin! You promised to love me and never hurt me. Well guess what? You hurt me! Even when you had me, you had Erabor… when you had everything it was not enough for you! Even if I had told you that I carry your child would it have been enough!”

Silence enveloped everyone and Thorin almost choked on his own breath, the darkness in his eyes fading to give way to a light of hope and joy… clouded by pain.

“You… this is just another trick… a plan to make me cave…” Thorin mumbled mostly to himself.

Sara scoffed before reaching down and smoothing her tunic to reveal the visible bump hidden beneath. Thorin froze and his eyes widened, tears springing to the sky-blue orbs.

“You hid this from me? Do you trust me so little!?” he almost muttered.

That struck a cord and Sara shouted so loud that even Thranduil jumped, “What did you expect me to do!? The day after we are married, you treat me like I do not exist! You never slept or ate and spent all day searching for a bloody rock! You treated your best friends and family like dirt! Did you expect me to hand you the news on a silver platter with a ‘here you are Thorin, another life that you can treat like a slave!’” Sara hissed, “Fat chance.”

Thorin seemed shaken by her words and his eyes glossed over with tears. Sara’s face softened at the sight.

“I love you Thorin, more than anything but I feel that you do not love me anymore. I have lost you… and I have to think of the baby. So until you find yourself again, I cannot be near you or on your side.”

When Thorin did not speak but turned to hide his face from Sara’s vision, the girl sighed. Not yet…

“Are we agreed?” Bard called, noticing that Sara was not going to speak further. “The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised? Will you have peace or war?”

Sara closed her eyes, awaiting the fateful answer.

“I will have war,” Thorin said just loud enough over the sound of approaching feet, 1000 fold.

Sara groaned as she turned to see the silver armored dwarves cross the crest of the hill. “Ironfoot. The more the merrier I suppose…”

Gandalf reached down and grabbed Sara by the hand who in turn grabbed Bilbo’s wrist and pulled them toward where the dwarves were approaching.

“Who is that?” Bilbo whispered. “Doesn’t look very friendly.”

“Thorin’s cousin Dain,” Sara replied. “Lord of the Ironhills.”

“Is he and Thorin… similar?” the hobbit inquired.

Gandalf paused for a second, “Thorin was always the more aggregable of the two.”

Bilbo looked at Sara with a completely distressed look and Sara smirked, “Stay close to Gandalf and make good choices. If you need help, Axel and Omar are defending Dale.”

The hobbit nodded, “What about you? You are in no condition to fight! You’ll get hurt!”

Sara just smiled knowingly, “Do not doubt my intelligence dear Mr. Baggins. Just pray that things don’t go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“Like a certain dwarf prince having a not so friendly reunion with a particularly not friendly white giant orc creature.”

#thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin #thorin x oc #hobbit #lotr

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selohtun20 · 4 years

Text

Coffee and kidnappings

Villain!Mic, based off of @hey-hamlet’s Wicked Coffee AU

Word count: 1777

Izuku thinks that maybe he should be more unsettled. It’s not everyday that you finally figure out that, yes, the facial hair thing is not, in fact, a coincidence, and yes, the barista at you and your teacher’s favorite coffee shop is, in fact, a villain. A pretty infamous one at that, seeing as how he’s known to deafen opponents permanently and also flirt with Eraserhead when they fight. Present Mic, the voice villain, and Yamada Hizashi, the barista who Izuku knows weirdly well by now. He’s been designated coffee guy for all of 1-A for a while now, and he knows their orders by heart, carrying them carefully back to campus so he doesn’t spill anything. Yamada (it’s easier to think of them as two people, rather than one) always perks up when he comes in, already starting on his inevitably gigantic order. Izuku usually orders ahead, but comes a little earlier to chat with Yamada if there’s no one around. He also does it to take notes, quickly typed on his phone for future reference and to be put into his analysis notebooks.

Normally, none of this would really matter. The moment Izuku finally made the connection in his brain, he should’ve turned around, walked out from the coffee shop, and ran back to Aizawa as fast as he could. But there’s a problem, which boils down to this: Aizawa actually likes Yamada. Izuku, who can’t mind his own business at the best of times, and certainly not now, figures that friendships maybe don’t come easy to his teacher, given that he almost always looks half-dead and ready to kill anyone at a moment’s notice if they get between him and coffee. He also knows that Yamada doodles little cats and paw prints on his teacher’s cup, and even if he thinks he can hide them, Izuku can see Aizawa smile at his cup when he sees it. (Aizawa’s order is the only one that changes. Yamada makes him something new almost every week, and it’s always sickeningly sweet.) Izuku, honestly and truly, would feel bad about turning Yamada in, or at least exposing his secret. He’s relatively sure Yamada wouldn’t hurt him. Then again, Izuku has a habit (a bad one, considering where his aspirations lie) of always thinking the best of people when at all possible.

He’s beginning to regret not saying anything when he gets kidnapped. There’s a bag over his head, his hands are tied, and he would probably be having a gigantic panic attack if it weren’t for the fact that he can recognize Yamada’s voice. He’s also pretty sure that Yamada kidnapped him as an excuse to see Eraserhead, which, hey, Izuku understands that he’s a pretty convenient target, but still. He’s a little annoyed that he’ll probably miss class if he doesn’t get free, like, right now. But there’s not much he can do at the moment, and he doesn’t feel like testing his theory that Yamada won’t hurt him, so he resigns himself to his fate.

Kidnapping a kid wasn’t exactly high on Mic’s priority list, sure, but it was very convenient. He was at the coffee shop, surprisingly easy to grab and tie up, and he’s in Eraserhead’s class, so really, he can’t be blamed for his actions. It’s just- well, he hasn’t seen Eraser for a week now, and he’s only seen Aizawa once. He misses him, as much as he doesn’t really want to admit it, so kidnapping Midoriya makes sense on that level. Plus, they haven’t spent any substantial time together, so it’s as good an excuse as any to write up a ransom note, email it with a disposable email to Eraser, and wait.

Mic wasn’t counting on the fact that, apparently, Midoriya doesn’t fear death. He expected the kid to be scared, to fight back, to scream or do- something, at least. Instead, he just sort of sits there, and when Mic takes the bag off his head, the kid smiles at him, bright and it’s almost blinding. “Hi there Mr. Yamada!” “I- wait, what?” Mic blinks several times in shock. “The facial hair is a dead giveaway. Also, did you kidnap me to see Eraser, or…?” “Uh, well, yes? I wasn’t expecting you to figure out it was me, but uh, I wrote your teacher a ransom note, hopefully he’ll look at his emails soon…” Midoriya cocks his head, frowns for a second, then smiles again. “Well, why don’t I call him? It’s much faster than waiting for him to find a note!” Mic can’t do much else but nod, and he unties the kid (he can take a kid, no problem. Probably.) before grabbing Midoriya’s phone and throwing it to him. The kid catches it on instinct, and quickly pulls up his teacher’s contact while Mic has a personal crisis in the background. Before Eraser can pick up, Mic asks if the kid wants something to eat. He did kidnap him during lunch break, after all.

Aizawa knew something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what it was. It prickled under his skin, an uncomfortable sensation that left him on edge. It was lunch break, and normally he’d be asleep right now. But the dread pooling in his gut wouldn’t let him, and he resigned himself to worry until he figured out what was really wrong. Before he could gather himself up to go grade, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. An email. From someone he’d never heard of, with the subject being “ransom note: Hi Eraser!!!!!”. Great.

The note itself is clearly from Present Mic, seeing as how it uses far too many exclamation points to be written by any rational human being. It’s also a little unclear as to what, exactly, he’s demanding, other than the fact that he only wants Aizawa to come in, no one else. Before he can read into it much further, his cellphone rings. He answers on instinct. “Hello?” “Hi sensei! I got kidnapped by Mr- ah, I mean Present Mic! He’s making lunch for me!” “He’s what? Where are you, problem child?” Aizawa starts to panic, because, yes, Midoryia sounds fine, but there's also the possibility that Mic is threatening him, and while Present Mic doesn't usually hurt kids, this is one of Aizawa's kids. He doesn't hate Mic, not really, but he wouldn't hesitate to strangle the man if there's a hair out of place on the problem child's head when he gets there. “He’s making me lunch! And, I’m not sure sensei! Hold on- '' There's a rustling sound, and Aizawa can hear Midoriya ask something, and Mic’s answer in return. “We’re at a warehouse in the dock district! And-“ Aizawa hears Mic’s voice again in the background. “Oh yeah, he told me to tell you not to bring anyone else, or he’ll make me deaf!” “Did he drug you? Why are you so calm? I’ll be there as soon as I can, just-“ “I don’t think he drugged me? I’ll see you soon sensei!” With that, the problem child hangs up the phone, leaving Aizawa to sprint towards the main campus gates.

“You’re a pretty good cook, Mr. Yamada!” “Thanks kid! Hopefully Eraser will show up soon too!” Izuku grins, taking another bite. They finish their lunches, both talking at rapid speeds about anything and everything, until Izuku feels his phone vibrate. “Oh! He’s here! I’ll make us tea!” With that, he busies himself with a kettle, getting out cups. As they wait for the water to boil, the door gets kicked in, and Aizawa sprints in, ready to fight. “Hi sensei! I’m making tea!” He waves at his teacher, grabbing tea bags and generally keeping his hands busy. While neither adult is looking, he pulls his phone out and sends a Snap to Shinsou, and manages to get one of his teacher and the villain, and adds it to his story. His phone is buzzing like crazy with texts, and he carefully silences it, just as the kettle whistles. He pours the water into the cups, and brings two over to the small table set up in the warehouse. (He’s not entirely sure how all this stuff got in here. He’s betting it might be a secret base for Present Mic, seeing as how there appears to be food and Izuku is pretty sure there was a first aid kit somewhere, but he’s not entirely sure yet-) “You’re mumbling, problem child.” “Oh. W-whoops. Anyway, Mic! You wanna tell sensei why you kidnapped me?” Izuku sets the cups down, and goes back to the counter to drink his own tea, snickering to himself as he gets ready to record.

“GUYS! HE’S OKAY, SENSEI IS THERE!” The entire class 1-A crowds around Ochako, and she holds the phone so more people can see. It’s a video of Aizawa and Present Mic, drinking tea. The camera shakes a little, and the class can hear Izuku giggling softly. “Let me get this straight: you kidnapped one of my students, left me a ransom note, THREATENED TO DEAFEN HIM, because you wanted to see me?” Aizawa sounds furious, but it's hard to tell from a video, and Izuku is recording so Ochako doubts he's hurt. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so awful Eraser!” Present Mic puts a hand to his chest, sounding offended. "Did you drug him? Why is he so calm?” Aizawa’s voice is sharp, and Ochako can’t really see his face too well, but she’s sure he’s glaring at the villain. I didn’t, I swear! I would never drug a kid!” “You’d just kidnap one?” “I- well, yes. But I didn’t drug him, so that’s one point towards me!” Aizawa puts his head in his hands, shaking it softly, and Izuku giggles more. “Why aren’t you afraid, kid?” “He’s right, problem child. He did kidnap you.” Izuku giggles even more, much to the adults’ surprise. “Bold of you to assume I feel fear, sensei! Can I go back to U.A. now? I don’t want to miss class.” At his nonchalant voice, Bakugou bursts out laughing, cackling like a madman. Iida looks like he’s on the verge of a heart attack, and Shinsou is blinking at the video like he can’t believe what he’s really seeing. The rest of the class is caught between worry for their classmate and holding in their laughter, partially at Izuku’s comment and partially at Bakugou’s laughter, which is hilarious in and of itself. “Oh wait, before we go, can we get a selfie together Mic?" “... you know what, sure kid. I don’t think this day could get much weirder.”

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha writing #villain!mic #wicked coffee au

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writing-after-midnight · 5 years

Text

Between the Office Blocks

WRITING MASTERLIST

Welp its currently 2:58 am and I just wrote this lil thing for y’all! :) I promise I’m going to get back to my multi chaps and stuff! This probably has a few mistakes, but have mercy I only work when I’m close to utter exhaustion and when it’s past midnight hahaha!

If I made a list to tag people in everything I write (including asks, mini fics, multi chap, etc) would people be interested?

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The day starts as a usual Monday morning in the Prythian Industries office. My colleagues arrive at their desk half-awake, clutching a coffee as they try not to fall asleep in front of their screens; the air conditioning ceasing to work and leaving the block to slowly cook as the summer sun glares in through the windows. The office is never too lively at this time, but not even the boss can bring himself to care about the lack of productivity.

Fighting to keep my head from hitting the desk, I manage to send a few emails to my half-dead colleagues. Too many late nights spent painting the starry sky have taken their toll. Office jobs are the one thing I vowed to myself I would never do, but an aspiring artist with no money to keep herself afloat in the first place would never survive in this city. I feel like my brain is processing everything a minute after it happens. I sigh, and look around. The rest of the people in the office still look half-dead, so I don’t think I’ll be told off if I let myself relax for a little bit. That’s what I tell myself as my head turns the other way to look out of the window, at least.

I’ve always had a fascination with the sky and its colours, but the haze blurring the rest of the city on my left and right doesn’t inspire me today. Still, I just want to get out of this Cauldron-damned office. I watch the cars pass by below me, checking my boss doesn’t pass by every few minutes. Maybe I could just walk out and grab one of those cars, and drive somewhere nice… nobody here would notice. The only thing holding me back is the lack of money when I would get back. Or maybe I could sit in a field and forget about everything. I close my eyes, imagining the soft wind through my hair....

I jerk awake when someone behind me drops one of their folders, the clatter ringing through the office. How long was I out? I know that I should I probably get back to work and emails and planning, but my brain still won’t bring itself to do any of it. Instead, I continue to stare out of the window.

There is another office block in front of me, the same ugly colour and uniformity as ours. Most of the time, I detest looking at the Mountain Inc. building. The people sitting next to the windows look closer to death than half the people around me. Every single one I see look devoid of any emotion, hunched over their computers, continuously typing. I scan over all of them, looking for any signs of life anywhere. And that’s when I see him. The office blocks are so close together I can see him perfectly, directly across from me.

The man is dressed in a black suit, and he is staring out into the sun, seemingly daydreaming. The light reflecting from the window illuminates all of the features on his face. The chiseled jaw, the dark blue eyes that look almost purple in the light, the inky black hair framing his tanned face. The dreamy look he has on his face suggests that he’s feeling similar to me from a few minutes ago. The large window perfectly frames his body, and my fingers itch for a paintbrush, to hope to capture some aspect of this man. And then I realise I’ve been staring for too long. And the man is now staring at me, an unreadable smile crossing his face.

My cheeks instantly heat, and without thinking, I wave. Did I actually just do that? I quickly look behind me to check that nobody is watching, and find him offering a small wave back. His smile widens to a grin, as he holds up his hand in a gesture to wait. Slightly confused, I watch as he turns back to his desk, then faces me again a moment later, pressing four sticky notes to the window.

H i ! The notes said, followed by a smiley face. I can’t help but laugh. It’s his turn to wait as I grab a piece of paper to write my response.

This day is going by too slowly! He reads, as I then grab a sticky note. Name? I ask followed by a smiley face to match his.

Same over here, Darling! He replies. The name he gives me makes my cheeks turn red again. I’m Rhys.

I’m Feyre! I’d much rather be out of this office, everyone’s a zombie.

Can we be office buddies, Feyre Darling? It’s much too boring over here too. We’re the only ones left alive, it seems.

Yes, please.This is so much more fun than trying to talk to Bron at this hour.

I see Rhys laugh, shoulders shaking slightly. I’ve not even met him properly, so how can I already find him so attractive? You’re always welcome to… what is this? Talking? Messaging?

I have just enough time to read what the note says, before a panicked look crosses his face and he crumples it.

A second later, a woman with red hair appears at Rhys’ desk. She seems to be angry, and Rhys’ head hangs a little bit. I cringe, thinking about how I’ve just gotten him into trouble. The woman must have seen what we were doing because she walks to the window and spots me staring at them. Her face goes stony, and I watch as she drops the blind. That’s ended our conversation, then.

An hour passes by, and I do next to nothing on the computer. I can’t help but look over to the black blinds opposite to me every couple of minutes. By the second hour of staring at the screen, I look over to Rhys’ window again, completely giving up on any sort of work. And then, I see a flash of yellow peek through the blinds as tanned fingers press a note on the window. My heart does an involuntary leap.

Number?

Immediately, I scramble for a pen and sticky note, writing my phone number down. I stick the note on the window and wait, watching for any movement on the opposite block.

A couple of minutes later, I see two fingers part the blinds, and the pair of blue eyes stare back at me. I offer back a shy smile, and his eyes wrinkle in what must be a grin. The eyes disappear, and I search through my bag for my phone. Even though I’ve been clearly putting sticky notes on the window all morning, I decide to hide my phone under a folder, just in case I’m spotted. Not 30 seconds later, my phone buzzes.

Unknown number: Is this Feyre Darling? It’s Rhys! Sorry about that! My boss decided I wasn’t doing enough work, not like I’m going to let that stop me from talking to you :)

I actually giggle. Like a schoolgirl. The effort this man is going to, to talk to me makes me blush for the third time today.

This is Feyre! Your boss gave me the worst side eye, and I don’t even work for her! I’d die if I had to work there.

She’s like that all the time, it doesn’t matter who to. Oh well, it’s money!

That’s the only reason I’m here, otherwise I’d be painting.

A minute or two passes, and I start to worry that I’ve gotten him into trouble again, or maybe that he has simply lost interest in the conversation. However, the reply I receive isn’t quite what I was expecting.

This may be a little bit forward, but perhaps you would like to meet after work for a coffee, and you could tell me about your painting? Only if you want to, of course, but I would love to talk to you!

Is this actually happening?

Yeah, that sounds great! What time do you get out of work? I’m out at 4pm :)

I’ll be out for 3:30pm, but I’ll wait outside if you would like? Or we can meet at the coffee shop on the corner? :)

I’m not opposed to walking down with you ;) see you at 4pm!

See you then, Feyre Darling ;)

The last few hours in the office seem to pass by even slower than usual, but at least they feel brighter. It finally comes to 4pm, and I dash out of the office and down the stairs, out onto the street. I look around, trying to spot inky black hair in the bustling crowd. Then a deep voice comes from behind me.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

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#feyre #feyre archeron #rhys #rhysand #feysand #feyrhys #ferhys #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #feyre x rhys #feyre x rhysand

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