unbound-space-trash · 4 years ago
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Stars
summary: the mandalorian comes back from a hunt, but you’re not quite ready to go from being cooped up on the ship planetside, to being cooped up on the ship in space [ao3]
words: 2.3k
warnings: none except for some swearing and fluff about idiots in love
a/n: I really wasn’t expecting this to be longer than a thousand words, but more words kept happening and it just... kept going... so, have some words
✰ ✰ ✰
The Child babbled and waved his arms animatedly at you as the two of you played on the floor of the Razor Crest’s cargo hold. 
It was closing in on the fourth day since the Mandalorian had left to go chase down a bounty, and you and the Child were both getting a little restless from being cooped up on the ship.
You were also starting to feel a desperate need for adult interaction, because while the Child had no problem holding up a side of a conversation, it wasn’t exactly intelligible. And sure, Mando wasn’t the most talkative of beings (if you were being honest, sometimes you felt like you were talking to an empty helmet for all he held up his end), at least conversations between the two of you revolved around topics other than food and naps. 
You stretched your arms above your head before gathering up the pile of scattered blocks again. “Alright little one, I’ll cut you a deal,” you said as you fixed the Child with a mock-stern look. “I’ll help you build one more tower, and then you help me tidy up and put together some dinner, yeah?”
The Child tilted his head at you before reaching out and patting the palm of the hand you offered him, an excited look in his eyes at the promise of minor destruction and food. 
You laughed. “Excellent. Now hand me that green one and we can-“
thumpthump thump thumpthump
The sound of someone hitting the outer hull of the Crest cut you off, and at the recognition of the familiar pattern, you quickly shoved the colourful blocks behind a crate before scooping up the Child and rushing up the ladder to close the two of you in the cockpit. 
More than used to the routine by now, the Child was quiet in your arms as you got yourself settled in the co-pilots seat. His large ears perked up at the sound of the rear hatches ramp descending, and then you found yourself hurriedly covering said ears at the sudden onslaught of curses and insults. 
“-iece of shit! Take these fuckin’ cuffs off me so I c’n knock th’t shitty fuckin’ helmet off your fuckin’ head, you stupid shiny moth-FUCK!”
The familiar hiss of the carbonite freezer cut off the swearing of the pissed off bounty and the Crest fell mostly silent again, until the sound of someone climbing the ladder drifted into the cockpit. 
The cockpit doors opened and you shot an unimpressed look at the Mandalorian standing in the doorway, your hands still covering the Child’s ears. 
“You know, I really won’t be surprised if the kid’s first word in Basic is ‘fuck’,” you said, before lowering your hands. 
Mando made his way into the cockpit and turned the pilot’s seat around to face you before sitting down. “Neither would I,” he huffed, leaning forward to take the Child who had started squirming with a vengeance the second his beskar-clad guardian had appeared. Mando turned his attention to the kid. “You behave while I was gone, ad’ika?”
The Child babbled and waved his hands animatedly.
“Eh, about as well as can be expected, all things considered,” you said as you made a see-saw motion with your hand. “On a totally unrelated note, if you find food stuck to anything high up, I’ll let you use your imagination as to how it got there.”
Mando shook his head. “Womp rat,” he grumbled, and you could hear the accompanying eyeroll. His helmet looked back in your direction. “Sorry it took so long. Bastard was smarter than I thought he’d be. But we should have a clear run back to Nevarro for a couple rest days before heading back out again.”
You couldn’t help the look of displeasure that crossed your face at the thought of being cooped up on the Razor Crest for even longer.
“What is it?” Mando asked.
You moved to stand up, “I- nothing.”
Mando’s head tilted at your hesitation. “Cyar’ika, what’s wrong?”
“It’s just…” You dropped back down into the co-pilots seat with a sigh. “The kid and I have been inside the Crest the whole time you were gone, and I just…” You sighed again, looking down as you picked at a loose thread on your shirt. “I was kind of hoping that we could, you know, stay a bit longer and just… get some fresh air and let the kid chase bugs or roll in the grass or whatever.” You raised your head back up to look at the Mandalorian who was just looking back at you. Probably. He was facing you at least. “O-only if it’s safe! That’s… that’s why we didn’t go outside while you were gone. I mean, I know you taught me to shoot so I can help protect the kid if I need to, but-”
“Cyar’ika, stop.” The Mandalorian cut you off.
You looked back down at your lap again. “‘M sorry, I knew it was stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” Mando said and he shifted the Child to one arm as he stood, offering you a hand. 
You relished the feel of the worn leather in your hand as he pulled you up, a bright smile lighting up your features. “Really? You don’t mind?” 
“C’mon mesh’la, I’ll start a fire and we can eat outside.”
You followed Mando out of the cockpit. He still hadn’t explained his nicknames for you, but they sound somewhat affectionate at least, so you guess you don’t mind.
✰ ✰ ✰
After he set up a small area and built up a fire just outside the cover of the Razor Crest, the Mandalorian disappeared back inside to clean up in the ‘fresher, while the Child “helped” you put together a quick stew for dinner. 
As it cooked, you kept a close eye on the Child as he toddled through the grass and chased bugs in dying sunlight. When the Mandalorian returned, he took over so that you could take your own turn to wash up in the ‘fresher. 
Once the food was ready, the Mandalorian went back up to the cockpit to eat, while you and the Child ate next to the fire. 
You watched the Child’s eyes drooping closed more and more near the end of the meal, eventually retrieving his bowl before the poor kid could fall asleep in what little was left of his stew. Picking him and taking him inside, the combination of a full belly and running off all his excess energy had the Child asleep almost as soon as he was tucked into his little hammock. 
The Mandalorian made his way back outside after you’d settled back next to the fire, leaning back a bit to look up at the stars. 
“Where’s the kid?” He asked as he walked down the ramp. 
You gestured in the direction of the bunk. “Comatose. I think that’s the easiest time I’ve ever had putting him down to sleep,” you said, a fond smile on your face. 
Your gaze was still fixed on the stars above you, so you didn’t really notice the Mandalorian watching you. Not that you would have been able to see the way he looked at you, drinking in your features; the soft smile on your face, the way the stars reflected in your eyes. His adoration for you hidden behind a mask of beskar. 
A gloved hand entered your line of sight. “Stand up.”
Your eyes flickered suspiciously between his visor and his hand, thinking back to the last time he’d done this, and the bruised ass and ego that had resulted from the self-defence lesson. “Mando, if you’re seriously thinking about another punching lesson, I’m going to politely tell you to fuck off.”
He said nothing, hand still held out waiting to help you up. 
You let out a heavy sigh, knowing he wouldn’t back down. “Fine, but just know, if I end up puking, I’ll be aiming directly for your boots,” you grouched as you took his hand and were pulled to your feet. 
An amused snort made its way through the modulator of the helmet as he led you by the hand to the side of the Crest, nodding to the handholds on the outer hull that led to the top of the ship. “Up.”
“Oh, hell no!” You looked at him in disbelief. “Nu-uh, I am not climbing up there so you can teach me a lesson in watching where I put my feet! Because when I fall off-“
“I won’t let you fall off, cyare, just climb up the damn ladder,” he said gruffly. 
“Fine,” you said with a frown as you took your hand out of his (somewhat reluctantly) and climbed up the side of the ship. 
You heard him begin his own ascent as you neared the top, and after you reached the roof of the Crest, you took up what you hoped was a solid stance. “I hope you’re prepared to explain to the kid why I have a broken arm tomorrow, Mando,” you told him. 
His helmet tilted slightly. “You don’t trust me, cyare?”
You raised an eyebrow at him in response. “Mando, I trust you with my life. I don’t trust myself not to topple my ass off- … wh-what’re you doing?” You stuttered to a halt as he sat down on the roof. 
The Mandalorian shrugged what would have been nonchalantly if you hadn’t picked up on the slightly nervous quality of his voice. “You can get a better view of the stars from up here.”
“I- you… I thought... s-stars?” All of your higher brain function seemed to have deserted you at the sight of your Mandalorian looking up at you, leaning back on one hand while the other rested on his knee. 
He chuckled at the combination of confusion and appreciation on your face. “Yes mesh’la, stars.” He leaned forward to take his weight off his arm. “Are you going to stand there staring all night, or are you going to come sit down?”
You startled at the gentle teasing tone in his voice. “Oh, yeah- I… o-okay,” you stuttered out as you made your way over to him. You sat down next to him, leaving a foot of space between the two of you, only to let out a squeak of surprise as his arm came around your back and tugged you so that you were flush against his side. 
There was another tug at your shoulder, this time directing you backwards. “Lie down, cyare,” he murmured next to your ear as he gently guided you to lay down with your head on his bicep. 
A cool breeze drew you out of the shock of being pulled into such an intimate position with the Mandalorian, and you hesitantly wriggled a bit closer into his warmth. The arm curled around you tightened slightly and his thumb hesitantly began to rub gentle circles on your own arm. “Is… is this okay, mesh’la?” 
You smiled at the question. “Yes Mando, this is more than okay,” you said, before turning your head to look back up at the stars.
The two of you had been laying there for a while, silently watching the moon as it made its slow march across the sky before you spoke up. “Are you ever going to tell me what they mean?”
The Mandalorian turned his head to you. “... the stars?”
You snorted out a laugh, “no, you overgrown tin can. What you call me, you know, the nicknames in what I’m going to assume is Mando’a.” His thumb stopped rubbing circles and you lifted yourself up on one elbow to look at him with a small frown. “None of them mean ‘asshole’, right?”
He huffs out a surprised laugh and pushes himself up to lean back on his elbows too. “No, none of them mean asshole,” he said as he turned his head back to the sky.
“Then what-”
“Beautiful.” His helmet tilted back towards you.
“I- what?” You were sure you hadn’t heard him properly.
The Mandalorian cleared his throat a little. “Mesh’la. It means ‘beautiful’.” He reached up and poked at the frown line between your eyebrows when you stayed silent, your mouth open in a little ‘o’ of surprise, and then his hand moved to cup your cheek. “You are beautiful.” 
You turned your face into his hand and pressed a shy kiss into the palm of his glove even as you felt your face heating up. “Mando-” you began, but he shook his head and pulled you towards him to rest your forehead on his.
“Din,” his voice was soft and low, the single syllable barely picked up by the modulator. “Din Djarin. Not Mando, not to you.”
His name. 
You pulled back to look at him, eyes tearing up a little even as your lips quirked into a smile at the trust he had in you to give you his name. “Din Djarin,” you murmured, testing out his name for yourself.
A low noise rumbled in his chest. Fuck, but he liked how his name fell from your lips. “Can I hold you again, ner kar’ta?”
“Of course,” you smiled and the two of you lay back down, Man- Din pillowing his head on his arm while you tucked yourself back into his side. “So, does this mean you’re going to tell me what the other ones mean?”
Din chuckled and you enjoyed how it sounded directly under your ear. “Not just yet, mesh’la. But maybe…” he broke off as if thinking about something.
“Maybe?” you questioned, perking up at the idea of possibly learning what another one meant.
“Shabuir,” he spoke up after a moment.
“You haven’t called me that before. What’s it mean?”
Din chuckled again. “That one means asshole.”
You huffed a laugh of your own and poked him in an unarmored section of his side in retaliation. “Shut up and watch the stars with me, smartass.”
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marvelmadam08 · 3 years ago
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Baby Blues 17/?
Summary: Alex and Chris have their first scare as parents.
Warnings: Blood, emergency hospital visits, slight angst. Fluff.
A/N: So sorry for the delay in posting. I’ve been in a serious downward spiral for a while lately, along with some family drama (I’ll spare the details) but I’m back and will do my best to keep posting regularly.
~~~~~~
11 Weeks ( and 5 Days) Old
Chris was stressed. He was going back and forth between home and work, and when he was home he'd work some more. He would wake up early and drag himself to bed long after both Alex and Ace went to sleep, not that it would make much of a difference. Ace would still cry when Chris would try to hold him or go anywhere near Alex. Now he knew how Dodger felt for the last three months.
Chris quietly shut the front door behind him, knowing that Ace would be in the middle of another nap right about now. He stopped in the doorway of the nursery, it was cooler than usual; the window next to the crib opened just enough to let some fresh air breeze through. Ace was soundly asleep, his tiny fist was halfway in his mouth covered in drool. He made his way down the hall to his own room. Alex was on the bed, Dodger curled up by her side, her focus on the laptop in front of her while she typed away. He took in how she looked, her freshly washed curls were out, which he loved; and she was wearing her ‘lucky’ writing shirt and a pair of shorts.
“Hey babe.” Alex grinned. Chris climbed up on the other side of Alex, draping his arm over her lap and sighing deeply “Rough day?”
“Something like that.” He turned to look at the laptop screen “What are you writing?”
Alex covered his eyes “Nothing.”
“Is it about me?” Chris tickled her side, Alex half shrieked, trying to push his hands away
“Chris, cut it out- you know I don’t show you my chapters until I’m ready.”
“C’mon, I just wanna make sure you’re writing me accurately, as a loving supportive, sexy husband- ‘with eyes that rivaled the bluest of oceans’-”
Alex cringed at the memory of her slurring those words to Chris after an eventful Girls Night Out she had with her old college friends. They were engaged at the time, drunk Alex thought sending Chris a 'sexy' voice message would be the best way to rile him up for when she got home. When she woke up the next morning, with a massive hangover and no solid memory of the rest of the night, Chris was there with aspirin and let her listen to the voice message and watch the video of her trying to sneak back in the house without being caught.
“I told you that in a drunken state!” Alex pulled the pillow from behind her and smacked her laughing husband in the face. “You’re such a jerk.”
"Now you're in trouble." Chris sat up, pushing the laptop off her lap and tickling Alex's sides
"Chris, I didn’t mean it." She said between giggles “Get him Dodge.”
Dodger sat up, ears twitching slightly, before he bounced off the bed and ran out the room all together. 
“Traitor.” Alex pouts
Chris pushed himself up on his knees, his hands grabbing Alex by her legs and pulling her closer. His eyes roamed over her body, one hand rested on her thigh while the other cradled the back of her head; playing with the tiny coils there.
“Chris, you’re gonna mess up my hair.” Alex smirked
“Then put the bonnet on and let me do what I need to do.” he whispered, now leaning in closer to press his lips to hers.
Dodger ran back into the room, whining loudly before barking. 
“Shh, Dodge you’re gonna wake the baby!” Chris shushed. Dodger barked again, with more fervor, Ace cries shortly followed, he ran out once more; still barking and growling. “Dodger, enough!”
Alex huffed before pulling away from Chris. “I’ll get Ace.”
“I can do it.” Chris offered
“No, it’s fine, but do me a favor and grab my bonnet.” she winked slipping out of his grasp in time to keep him from smacking her ass. Chris jumped up from his spot on the bed to rummage through the dresser for the silk bonnet.
"Chris!" Alex shrieked
"Al?" He ran for the nursery, Alex was practically halfway in the crib scrambling to get Ace, Dodger was doing his best to climb inside the crib too "What’s wrong? What happened?"
Something jumped out the crib, Dodger took off after it, giving Chris room to see what was happening. Ace was nearly red in the face, crying and scared; a small series of scratches covered his face and arms.
"There was a squirrel in the crib, it must’ve gotten in through the window." Alex picked Ace up holding onto him closely "Mama's here, it's okay I got you."
"We gotta take him to the hospital." Chris was already grabbing the carrier and nearby baby bag. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Alex gently laid Ace in the carrier and strapped him in, he continued to cry and squirm
***
Ace's cries carried on the whole ride to the hospital. Alex and Chris were talking over each other when the nurse asked what was wrong, thankfully she was able to understand and rushed a doctor over.
They both watched the nurse apply a soothing aloe lotion to the scratches, while they sat on the other side of the room. Ace rested in the incubator, staring back at the nurse, from time to time he would turn his head in the direction of Alex’s voice.
“It’s all my fault, I’m so fucking stupid.” Alex sniffled, rubbing her legs, partly to comfort herself but also because she was cold, not thinking to grab longer pants before leaving the house. 
"No, Al it is not your fault, and you are not stupid." Chris shrugged off his long sleeve flannel, draping it over Alex's legs then wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 
“I left the window open.”
“You made a mistake, mistakes happens all the time with first time parents.”
“How many first time parents let a wild, rabid squirrel into their newborns room?” Alex huffed “He hasn’t even gotten his second round of shots yet. He could get rabies or typhus, maybe ringworm.”
“He’s going to be fine, the doctor said the cuts weren’t that deep and we got him here in time to catch anything.” Chris kissed the top of her head “He’s gonna be fine, Al. I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, we’re all done.” the nurse cooed at Ace, placing mittens on both of his hands to keep him from scratching “The doctor should be back in just a moment to let you know how the tests went.”
“Thank you.” Alex was the first one up, hurrying over to the incubator “Hi baby. Mommy is so sorry for letting that mean old squirrel scratch you up.”
Chris walked over to the other side, smiling down at his son. “Hey bud.” he smirked slightly watching Ace rub his face with the mittens “You know we owe Dodger something special, for scaring that squirrel off.”
“He probably mauled that thing.” Alex stated, then poked out her bottom lip at Ace “Didn’t he, didn’t Dodger attack that nasty little squirrel that scratched up your face.”
“We should get him a treat on the way back.” Chris stuck a hand inside the incubator, stroking Ace’s cheek gently. “And we should probably move Ace’s crib from by the window.”
“Agreed.” Alex looked up when the room door opened again, seeing the doctor walk in “Good news?” 
“Luckily majority of the scratches weren’t that deep, and the ones that were didn’t show signs of any other infections. No traces of rabies or any other diseases in his blood, which is extremely lucky considering he still hasn’t had his second round of vaccines yet.” he doubled checked the clipboard, “I will recommend that if any of the scars start oozing or he shows signs of swelling, that you come back to see me. As well as changing his soaps to ones with Aloe, to keep him from scratching.”
“Of course, thank you.” Chris shook the doctor’s hand “Are we all set to take him home?”
“Absolutely. As soon as you sign the release papers.”
***
Dodger was at the door as soon as it opened, he sniffed at Alex and Chris, looking for Ace; whining softly.
“Ace is alright, Dodge.” Alex assured, Dodger followed after her to the bedroom. She laid Ace down in his bassinet, currently still asleep from the car ride home. 
Dodger padded over to the bassinet, curling up next to it. Alex knelt down to pet him, giving him well deserved belly rubs and ear scratches. "Good boy Bubs."
"Very good boy." Chris came up behind Alex with a hefty bone for Dodger that they picked up on the way home. His ears perked up at the sight and he sat up waiting for Chris to hand it over "Proud of you, Bubba."
Dodger wasted no time gnawing on the bone, remaining in the protective spot next to the bassinet.
“I think this was a quickest he’s gone to sleep.” Chris stated in reference to Ace, a small smirk on his face hearing his son’s soft nasally snores. 
“The aloe lotion and the drive put him right to sleep.” Alex secured the mittens on Ace’s hands. Chris wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer and rested his chin on her shoulder. “He looked so helpless today, so scared. And it was my fault I never have him nap in a different room and the one time I do- this happens.”
“It wasn’t your fault Al, you couldn’t have known.” Chris spoke softly “Do you know how many times my brother and I have sent each other to the hospital?”
“I heard the stories Chris, you practically tortured your poor brother.” Alex sighed “Are you saying that, this is gonna be the first in a long roster of hospital visits?”
“I’m saying, look at him. He’s here, he’s healthy, and he’s going to be okay.” Chris kissed Alex’s cheek “Let’s get to bed.”
Alex half pouts, but allowed Chris to pull her over to the bed. “But I’m not tired.”
“Then you can keep me company, because I’m exhausted.”
They both settled on to their respected sides of the bed, but still drifted to the middle; Alex curled into Chris's side, letting her head rest on his chest and his arm wrapped protectively around her.
“When did you become the voice of reason in this relationship?”
“After all these years, I’m still full of surprises.” Chris kissed her on the forehead “Now go to sleep.”
“You’re bossy.” Alex yawned
Chris woke up again around four in the morning, not that he truly went to sleep, each time he closed his eyes he kept hearing Alex screaming, Ace crying, and something even more rabid or dangerous than a squirrel was in the crib next to him. He acted a lot braver than he let on today, giving Alex positive assurance while his own thoughts were just as frightful for the outcome. 
He slipped out from under Alex without waking her, walking up to the side of the bassinet. Ace stared back at him with sleepy eyes, rubbing his face with his mitten covered hands.
"Hey bud, you're supposed to be sleeping." He whispered, gently picking Ace up in his arms. There was no fussing and no crying this time, Chris held Ace to his chest bouncing from foot to foot to lull him back to sleep. “I’m gonna tell you a little secret, just don’t tell Momma, but I was really scared today, seeing you all scratched up and hurt. It felt like my heart stopped, it probably did a few times.” he kissed the top of Ace’s head “I’m not gonna let anything hurt you again, I promise.”
Alex stirred, feeling the empty space next to her "Chris?" She focused her eyes on her husband standing over the bassinet "What's wrong?"
"Nothing’s wrong, we just couldn't sleep."
“Bring him over here.” Alex patted his empty space. Chris laid back in bed, still cradling Ace against his chest, Alex returned to Chris’ side. Dodger hopped up next, pawing at the bed for permission. “You too, let’s go.”
He hopped up, nestling himself between their legs, curling up at the foot of the bed.
“Better?” he asked her
“Much better.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @madbaddic7ed @sweetie20 @kidkool90 @maleekabenjamin @sophiayoongi-hyung @lovelokiqueen @loki8484 @buckysforeverprincess @dezdechild @marantha @lydslikestyds @wakandabiitch2 @across-the-starss @hbh6064th @jaydeee86 @alexabrown7 
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kamilah-the-bloodqueen · 4 years ago
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The Cafe Pt.2 (Rewritten Barista)
OMG I’m back with the shitty Kamilah fanfiction! I haven’t written for a while - let alone for this series since I took a writing hiatus to focus on my classes so hopefully there aren’t any plot holes and the fic doesn’t suck ass. I’m slowly getting back into my writing but I still have finals (Up until next April 28) but after finals I will be writing more consistently and will finish my current series and WIPs (I will post my WIPs list soon so I can hold myself accountable and also keep track of what I need to work on).
Pairing: Kamilah x MC (Amy)
Word Count: 3682 words (I am trying to write longer fics but I prefer quality > length so I will post when the chapter feel right however I aim for this series chapters to be between 3500-4500 words each) 
Taglist: (I know it’s been a while so if you’d like to be removed from the taglist just let me know - I promise it won’t hurt my feelings that being said if you’d like to be added to the taglist for just this series, my Kamilah x MC taglist or my perma tag - please let me know I’ll be happy to add you if I remember to even tag) @samanthadalton @beautifulandorganized @cloud9in @kwaj115 @hellyeah90sbaby @shows-simp-card @witchesplayatnight
Part I
“It’s...sweet and comforting,” her voice was soft as she spoke, Amy’s cheeks turning very red, “like you.” 
Amy felt on cloud nine, her eyes glued to Kamilah as she watched her walk to her car and speed away like some rich movie character. Amy closed her eyes, replaying the entire scene over and over until the soft jingle of the bell startled her. Zig walked in, his shoulders drooped low as he carried a large duffel bag in his hand as his backpack slung over his shoulder. 
“You look like shit Zig.” Amy jested before walking to him and taking the duffel bag from him, both of them laughing lightly.
“I guess the tides have changed since we went to Hartfeld yeah?” Amy snickered at Zig’s comment, recalling the time she and her friends had gotten so wasted they streaked through the quad only to be caught by the dean on their way back.
“I assume you’re leaving after your shift?” Amy placed his bag down and tossed him his apron, both of them moving to the front counter as Zig examined the cafe. 
“Yeah, we aren’t technically leaving until tomorrow morning but Kaitlyn wanted to run over some of the more technical things with us. I could probably convince them to let you come, you’d definitely spice things up.” Zig waved his hands in the air and stuck his tongue out as Amy tried to glare at him, before breaking into laughter. 
“And who would watch the cafe? The pigeons? Lily?” 
“You’re right, I still feel bad about leaving on such short notice-”
“I’ve got this Zig, trust.” Amy held her head proud as Zig rolled his eyes, making sure Amy saw him. “Jerk.” She nudged his shoulder as a tall handsome man walked in, it took Amy and Zig a moment to realize who he was as he adjusted his tie. 
“Adrian Raines? CEO of Raine’s corporations?” Zig’s head perked up as he approached the register, his suit was a steel grey, his hair a dark brown that resembled a fresh cup of coffee and his smile was so comforting and infectious Amy couldn’t help but smile at him. 
“You must be Zig,” Adrian reached a hand forward, his teeth were so perfect, so straight and white he could have been in a toothpaste commercial, “and you must be Amy. Kamilah recommended this place. More specifically she recommended your special coffee. I had to come see for myself - she said if she had ordered one for me, it wouldn’t have made it to my office.” His voice was soothing, comforting and satisfying - Amy wanted him to read a bedtime story to her.
Amy’s eyes widened as she felt butterflies in her stomach, her palms growing sweaty as she smiled back at Adrian, his deep brown eyes very similar to Kamilah’s without the intensity. Zig gently tapped her shoulder, nodding towards the coffee machine as he rang Adrian’s drink up.
“Oh! Right!” Amy hustled, she was excited that she had two major CEOs trying her special coffee, it was a subtle flex that she found satisfaction in. She leaned back on the counter as the coffee slowly spilled out of the brewer, the strong smell prompting Adrian to turn for a moment before continuing the conversation with Zig. Amy took a moment to take him in, after all, not everyone gets to be within such a close proximity to a major CEO. Amy hadn’t noticed how muscular he was, his posture was so irritatingly straight, his hands were smaller than she expected and she tried not to laugh upon that discovery. His hair was slickly combed back, and his eyelashes were longer than Amy’s and his body complex was just muscular enough to be seen through the curves of his suit but not so muscular as to resemble Dwayne Johnson. 
“This is a solid set up you’ve got for yourself Zig, you should be proud.” Adrian adjusted his tie to be straighter as Zig rolled his shoulders back with a proud smile on his face.
“It took a lot of work but it’s...something I have wanted since college. I’m sure you understand that feeling since you do run one of the leading technology companies in the world, not even just the United States.” Zig folded his hands into his arms as Adrian turned with a soft gaze, a twinkle in his eyes that Amy couldn’t quite put a pin on.
“Well I’ve had years to grow and create a base for myself, with the connections I have in other industries it was really only a matter of money and finding the right people to work with me.” 
“How long did it take you?” Amy finished his coffee off with a generous serving of caramel and stirred it gently as Adrian blinked at her. 
“A long time, I’m much older than I look.” He laughed and Amy couldn’t help but question why he was so vague, he was only 28 years old according to google. 
“You don’t look a day over 22.” Zig interjected as Adrian and Amy held each other’s gaze, Amy couldn’t help but question his eyes, there was something he wasn’t letting on and she could feel it in her stomach. She handed him the coffee and watched his expression change as the warm liquid met his lips. 
“I can see why Kamilah was so intrigued, this has to be one of the best drinks I’ve ever had.” Adrian’s phone rang with drumming that sounded like it was from a revolutionary war movie. 
“Strange ringtone.” Amy remarked prompting Adrian to smile and shake his head. 
“I love the revolutionary war, the fight for freedom will always be an admirable one.” He smiled at Amy before turning to Zig, “I need to head back to my office but I’ll be sure to invest in this cafe of yours, and for you Amy. Thank you.” He reached into his pocket and handed Amy what appeared to be $300. 
“No wait it was just a cup of coffee!” Amy tried to shove the money back into his hand but Adrian had already dashed out of the door, leaving Zig stunned with a smile and Amy baffled. “What the fuck. I will never understand rich people Zig.” 
“I mean hey, it’s a good tip and you need the money Amy. Now, about you watching the cafe, are you really sure you can handle it alone? It’s a tall order.” Zig furrowed his brows as he scanned the empty cafe, his hand reassuringly placed on Amy’s shoulder. 
“It would actually be a venti order, but I’m sure. You need a break buddy, I can see it in your eyes and you should be there for Kaitlyn and her band.” Amy placed her hand over Zig’s as two women walked through the cafe doors. 
“Alright then, now let’s finish the day.” Zig returned to the register as Amy began fixing the women’s orders. 
The day passed by slower than usual, Amy kept replaying her interactions with Adrian over in her mind, with Kamilah’s earlier remark fading as Amy questioned Adrian’s shadiness. 
“That could not have gone by slower.” Zig let out a long sigh and Amy watched the tension leave his broad shoulders as he locked the front door. “After today I don’t have any more doubts about that trip, I need a break.” 
“That’s all I’ve been saying dumbass, go on. You need to pack and I can clean up here tonight.” Amy joked as Zig looked around nervously.
“Amy this place is a mess, we were so much busier. I can’t leave you to do this by yourself.” Zig reached for the disinfectant wipes as Amy smacked his hand. 
“Get out of here and go pack or you’re straight.” Amy wiggled her brows at Zig who took a step back. 
“Oh fuck off. All the tips from today are yours though. You take all the tips or you’re a vampire lover.” Zig winked at Amy who rolled her eyes and pointed towards the door. Zig stopped and patted her shoulder on his way out. 
“Thank you so much Amy. I’m glad you’re working here and I’m glad we were able to reconnect.” Zig and Amy shared a nod in silence before Zig left the messy cafe to Amy. 
“Now it’s just me I guess. Time to play some music.” Amy smiled and pulled her speaker out of her backpack, putting “Sit Next to Me” by Foster the People on and showly shaking her torso to the beat. She held the broom in her hands and started sweeping to the beat of the song, her head shaking to the rhythm as she sang her heart out. She finished sweeping the floor and began washing the blenders and wiping down the counters, stopping every five minutes to dance to the chorus of whatever upbeat song was playing. 
“She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts. She’s cheer captain and I’m-” Amy swung her hips around, the washcloth in her hands flying through the air as she swayed her head back and forth like a teenage girl. 
“On the bleachers, dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.” 
Amy froze like a deer in headlights as she turned to see where the voice came from - Kamilah was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a very amused look on her face as Amy slowly lowered her arms in embarrassment. 
“How much of that did you see?” 
“Oh no don’t let me interrupt you, please keep going.” Kamilah smirked and Amy felt a rush of adrenaline run through her. Instead of stopping and apologizing, she found herself hitting the play button and continued singing and dancing like Kamilah wasn’t even there.
“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you! Been here all along so why can’t you seeeeeeee, you belong with meeeee!”
“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know babyyyy? You belong with meeee.” Amy blinked as Kamilah sang with her, the woman's voice was stunning and left Amy speechless as their eyes met in the dim cafe lighting. The way Kamilah’s voice sounded in combination with the low and heated gaze she had on Amy, it felt like she was just reading her thoughts out loud. In a flash Kamilah was standing in front of Amy, their bodies so close Amy could feel the woman’s warmth and smell her sweet scent as the music faded and Amy lost herself in Kamilah’s brown eyes. 
“You belong with me. Have you ever thought...just...maybe...” Kamilah’s voice slowed from a singing tone to a low whisper, she leaned close as the song came to its end, Amy couldn’t help but sing back to her. 
“You belong with me?” She knew it came out shakily, the subtle smirk on Kamilah’s face said it all as they stayed locked in the moment. Amy knew they weren’t just singing to Taylor Swift’s new album, it was unspoken words between the two of them that neither had the courage to previously say. Amy felt her heart speed up, her palms growing sweaty as she waited to see if Kamilah would sing back to her or not. 
“You belong with me.” Kamilah leaned forward to kiss Amy, both of their eyes fluttering shut as the music stopped and time came to a slow. Amy wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders as their lips almost met, before Amy’s ringtone blared from her backpack causing Kamilah and Amy to jolt apart. 
Amy rushed over to check the call, scanning the screen and reading Lily’s name made her less annoyed that her almost kiss was interrupted, but still not happy. 
“Hey Lil what’s up? Oh yeah, I’m sorry I let Zig get out early so he could pack so I’m not gonna be home til late tonight. I’m so sorry. Yeah. Oh that’s good, I’m glad! You can def tell me about it later. Yeah? Oh yes I gotcha, I’ll venmo you for the rent once I hang up. Yeah okay goodnight Lil.” 
Amy hung up the phone and opened her venmo, sending Lily the $550 for rent, completely ignoring the fact Kamilah had made her way close to her again. As soon as she put her phone back in her bag, Kamilah turned her back around to face her, the woman’s eyes sparkling in the soft lighting that surrounded them. 
“Kamilah, how did you get in here? We’re technically closed and Zig-” Amy was silenced by Kamilah dangling what appeared to be a copy of the cafe key. 
“I helped Zig fund this cafe, I can come and go as I please, I just prefer to make his life easy and stay out of his way. He said you might’ve needed help cleaning up tonight since you let him go, so I came to help you clean, but instead I found you giving a world tour with no audience.” 
Amy felt a blush crawl up her face, her heart pounding so loudly it rang in her ears as she felt Kamilah’s hand on her arm. She pulled her eyes away from Kamilah’s, unsure of if it was because she was embarrassed, scared, flustered or a combination of all three. Kamilah gently placed her index finger under the girl’s chin, softly pulling her to meet her gaze as she spoke slowly.
“You don’t have to kiss me Amy,” her voice was comforting and lacked the iciness it usually carried, “just say the word and I won’t come to the cafe while you’re here alone.” 
“Kamilah...I...it’s not that...it’s just...” Amy stuttered but leaned forward, unable to reach Kamilah’s lips because of her height. Kamilah leaned down, tracing her index finger over Amy’s throat as their lips softly met. Kamilah slowly took Amy’s lower lip in her mouth, sucking on it and prompting a soft moan to escape Amy’s mouth as she draped herself into Kamilah’s arms. Minutes passed by as their mouths remained locked together, only pulling apart so they could finish cleaning. 
“Come on Amy, let’s get this place clean so you can get home.” Kamilah picked up the roll of paper towels and began drying the blenders and stacking them neatly to Amy’s surprise. Kamilah was a powerhouse, which was something Amy had expected from her since she radiated power like a goddess, but it was her ability to clean so damn thoroughly that confused Amy. 
“Kamilah?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to sound rude or anything but-”
“How did I learn to clean so well for an extremely rich person?” 
“Yeah.”
“I wasn’t always this wealthy, and I still prefer to clean my own penthouse since there’s certain ways I like my things placed and kept. The safest hands are our own and I like to be self reliant. Cleaning also makes me feel quite liberated and I keep valuable artifacts in my home that I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting anyone else touch.”
“Oh, that makes a lot of sense. Thank you.” Amy spoke softly as she wiped the last chair down and stacked it. She turned as Kamilah slid her blazer back on and leaned against the door. Amy slung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed the leftover pastries from the counter but stopped on her way out as she noticed Kamilah waiting for her by the door. 
“You don’t have to walk me home Kamilah.” 
“It’s 1 am in New York. I wouldn’t let anyone walk home alone at this time, besides it’s safer and I don’t think Zig would forgive me if something happened to you.” Kamilah lowered her voice to a faint whisper that Amy could barely make out. “And I couldn’t forgive myself if I let something happen to you either.”
Amy felt sparks up her body as she let Kamilah hold the cafe door open for her, before they both turned to lock it. 
“Well I’ll let you do that since you’re running this place for the next week.” Kamilah took a step back as Amy shakily locked the cafe up, letting out a relieved sigh. She started walking and felt comforted knowing Kamilah was with her, because she didn’t want to walk home alone in the dark despite her earlier remarks. They walked in silence, Kamilah staying close to Amy as they passed by the food bank, Amy tensing as she passed by the same alley that had haunted her ever since she saw glowing eyes that one time. She hastily made her way into the food bank, dropping the bag off with the receptionist and hurrying out the door to get back before anything else could freak her out. 
“Kamilah, how do you know Adrian?” Amy asked as they walked away from the food bank towards Amy’s apartment. 
“I handle Raines Corporations finances. Raines Corporation does all of their financing through Ahmanet Financial and so we’re good business partners but we found good friendship through the years.” There was something suspicious about the way Kamilah spoke, it gave Amy the same feeling when Adrian was asked about her age but she just could not put a pin on why she had this feeling. “Amy? Are you alright?”
“Oh yeah sorry, my mind went off on a tangent.” Amy stopped at the front of her apartment building, she turned to face Kamilah who basically glowed in the dark. The moonlight illuminated her features, her brown eyes shining brightly and her hair shimmering as Amy felt her breath catch in her throat. “Thanks for walking me home..not that I can’t handle myself but-”
“Of course Amy. See you tomorrow.” Kamilah smiled softly, placing a gentle kiss on Amy’s cheek before turning and disappearing into the streets, Amy sighing as she walked through the lobby, getting in the elevator and finally arriving at her apartment door. 
“Hey Amy, how was work?” Lily sat up from the couch, putting her PS4 game on pause as Amy collapsed on the couch next to her. 
“It was alright, I let Zig leave early so he could pack and I was cleaning and totally jamming out and Kamilah saw me but she joined me and we kissed…” Amy giggled as Lily squealed in excitement.
“OHMYGODD what was it like?” Lily perked up like a child ready for a bedtime story, her hands shaking as she waited for Amy to explain.
“Electric. God Lily I don’t even have words for it. My head was spinning and the world just fell away.” Amy swayed back and forth as Lily hugged her. 
“Well maybe you’ll have a date with her soon. Oh, I made beignets tonight, they’re on the counter! Let me get you some!” Lily stood up and rushed away, returning quickly with a beautiful plate of freshly made beignets covered in powdered sugar. 
“I swear you’re the best suitemate ever. Absolutely unparalleled.” Amy bit into one of the sweets, savoring the softness and sweetness of the perfect sweet treat. “God Lily this has to be your best recipe yet!” 
“Girllll no way, I saw this recipe for key lime pie that I’m dying to try this week.” Lily exclaimed as she pulled up the recipe on her phone, Amy taking another beignet from the plate. 
“You should go to a baking school or something Lily. Maybe open a bakery?” Amy suggested as Lily passionately explained the process of baking her favorite desserts. “Maybe you could bake for the cafe?”
“Nah, this is a hobby. I want to finalize my website for my computer business this week. But that’s a nice suggestion.” Lily stifled a yawn at the same time Amy did, both of them laughing at each other. 
“Damn so we’re both two tired dumbasses. It’s 3 am...we should get some sleep.” Lily suggested as Amy realized she’d only be getting a few hours of sleep. 
“You’re right. Do we have any energy drinks in the fridge though? I’m gonna need one before work.” 
“Yeah I bought more redbull and monster so you can take your pick, but I’m gonna crash harder than windows so g’night Amy.” Lily shuffled to her room as Amy did the same - collapsing in her bed and savoring the few hours of sleep she was going to get. 
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Amy arrived at the cafe 20 minutes before opening time, her bag in one hand and a redbull in the other as she unlocked the cafe. She put her bag down and started the opening process, the redbull slowly kicking in as the time passed by quickly. Just as she finished counting in on the register, the door jingled open and Kamilah stepped through the cafe doors. 
“Good morning Amy.” She smiled at her with those perfectly straight teeth and that damn irresistible smile. 
“Good morning Kamilah, here’s your coffee. Both ways.” Amy handed the cups to Kamilah, their fingers gently brushing during the exchange.  
“Amy...about last night…” Kamilah spoke softly, gently, in a sweet voice that Amy never expected from her. 
“Oh...did...you want to forget it?” Amy’s heart dropped, a deep pain forming in her stomach as she awaited Kamilah’s response. 
“No. I...I enjoyed it a lot.” Kamilah’s tone changed from sweet and confident to a shy and lower voice - was she flustered? 
“So did I...maybe...well if you have time tonight maybe we can do it again?” Amy suggested as she wiped the counter down. 
“I’ll be here.” Kamilah smiled, their eyes meeting for a moment before the jingling of the door interrupted their moment. “See you later Amy.” Kamilah waved as she left the cafe. 
The day passed by achingly slow, but eventually after several strange tik tok orders, a bunch of big wall street assholes and a few sweet customers the cafe was ready to close. Amy began cleaning the cafe, starting with just wiping the blenders clean as the door jingled, Amy turned and expected to see Kamilah - but it wasn’t Kamilah in the doorway. 
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Text
Roses of Melrose
Peter Parker x bisexual!reader 
Peter Parker x fem!reader
Peter Parker x black!reader 
Peter Parker x villain!reader 
Warnings: Language, murder, death, mentions of gangs, gun violence, mercenaries, physical abuse, verbal abuse, parental neglect, drug use, underage drinking, mentions of knives, brief mentions of sex, blood, piercings. 
Word Count:  8.4k
Songs: Ultralight beam-Kanye, I love Kanye- Kanye, Good Kid-Kendrick Lamar, Sing about me I’m dying of thirst- Kendrick Lamar, Violent Crimes- Kanye, Apparently- J.Cole, Black Wave- K.Flay, Pretty Little Birds- SZA, Wouldn’t it be Nice- The Beach Boys. 
“  It was the way I fought back. It was my first ‘fuck you’ to everyone to everything. It was my best friend. It was my first love. So to you I’m just another girl with another basic rose tattoo but to me. To me? It’s the way I remember it’s the way I keep my friend with me. It’s the way I’d make sure I couldn’t forget the unforgettable”
A/N: Sorry it took so long to finish this school and home got in the way. Sorry If the grammar is off there was only one proof read. Hopefully you enjoy it. Sorry that there’s less Peter in this one. It’s more character building. 
Series Masterlist   Previous Part    Next Part 
I had my suspicions about Peter being Spiderman, I mean it was kinda obvious he’s always leaving decathlon meetings according to MJ. They both have the same annoying ass optimism. No one is just that sure of anything. Like ever. Thanks to Liz I’d finally know. 
I entered the house having to maneuver past a couple of people standing in the hall past the front door. This party was tame compared to others I’d been to. Flash was DJ-ing he’s so annoying. Liz was cool though she was nice. 
I found MJ standing in the kitchen opening a pack of bread holding a jar of peanut butter. When I walked over and said 
“Only you would come to a party to just eat bread.”
She only replied with a short “Whatever loser,” 
“Hey, Peter Parker. Where’s your friend Spiderman?” Flash announced on the mic.
“Lemme guess with your imaginary girlfriend?”
Peter just stood there stunned 
“That’s not Spiderman that’s just Ned in a red shirt,” Okay that one would’ve been kinda funny if he didn’t add that annoying horn sound.  
“Shut the fuck up!” I said before smiling at Peter and walking off. I didn't do it for him, necessarily Flash was just annoying. Like I’ve never understood how someone with the grandpa name Eugene could talk so much shit. 
 I was making small talk with some random senior boy when I heard a high pitched squeal and excused myself to the bathroom. The sound only got louder and louder and louder. It was so painful it felt like Athena should’ve split my forehead and climbed her way out. My vision blurring together made me not able to grab onto anything as I lost balance. I wasn't going to cry, 
I wasn't. I couldn’t crying’s pathetic I wasn't going to cry. I could push through the pain. I’ve done it before, that's what I always do. Just when it got so intense I was sure I was gonna pass out it stopped. I did not pass out however I did throw up into the toilet. I looked in the mirror after washing my face off and for a second I could’ve sworn my eyes were glowing. Great now I’m going into a psychotic break why would my eyes be glowing. 
I just need some fresh air. Yeah that’s all. I sat there for a while letting my mind wander until I heard MJ’s voice from behind me. 
“So this is where you were? I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” She said as she sat down next to me. When I didn’t respond she turned facing me waving her hands my face 
“You good?” 
I looked up from picking at the grass. 
“I’m just tired MJ,” I mean I have every right to be tired there’s a whole fucking gang war going down where I live. Which makes no fucking sense why are people fighting over streets that no one actually owns. The weapons Vulture is selling make me good money, but they’re getting way too close to where my friends lived. I was snapped out of diving into all my problems by a purple cloud in the distance. Hearing the distant squeal slash siren hybrid. I felt my eyes widen. 
“What was that?” MJ asked. 
Fucking Vulture 
ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I told him to stay out of my neighborhood and he came to my friends. 
“I don’t know,” I said “Let’s just go back inside,”
As we were walking back to the backdoors I took one glance behind me, and there he was Spiderman heading towards the cloud
“Hey,” I called out walking closer to Ned, “Ned!”
He turned around 
“Who me?” He pointed to himself. 
“I mean I don’t see any other Neds around were,” I joked
“Oh, it’s you just usually don’t talk to me,” He pointed out. 
“Yeah sorry about that,” I said “Actually where’s Peter? I can’t seem to find him,” 
“Oh he uh,” he scratched the back of his neck “He had to go,” 
“Aw, how unfortunate,” I patted his shoulder “Well enjoy the party I have to go too,” So Ned knew Peter was Spiderman. 
“Can I get a ride?” I asked MJ to which she just said 
“You don’t have to ask,”
 “Just drop me off at the corner store by my house,”
It never felt awkward around MJ. Normally I had to be on high alert around everyone, but it’s never like that with her. This isn't an “honor” many people have but she’s one of the few I feel comfortable falling asleep around. I knew being in the car would make me feel sick so I drifted off. 
Shutting the door to the car we said our goodbyes and I headed into the gas station when Mr. William greeted me. I felt a warm feeling in my body. It was nice but short lived and replaced by an emptiness that humans like to call nostalgia. I missed feeling “home” I still lived here. I don’t know why It seems like I don't. I guess it was the fact I’d been giving more attention to Queens and Thorn lately. I know it’s not the projects anymore which I am immensely grateful for but it’s the same neighborhood. According to Briana, one of the like 3 friends I managed to keep I “never come around anymore” or “I’m too good for them”. 
I made my way to the bathroom and located the tile I kept my burner phone in. I used to keep it in a shoe box at home until my sister started going through the phase where she feels the need to borrow all my clothes. Stomping on the edge of the tile it flipped up and I grabbed the phone and shoved it in the pocket of my hoodie. 
Getting a soda and some gummy worms before I left. I started to walk back to my apartment complex. I went up to sit on the roof of the building just eating my gummies looking. That was something I did a lot just look. When I was younger I couldn’t stand being alone in my own head, but the older I got the more I began to understand why old people would just sit out on their porch doing nothing but looking. 
When I checked my phone it was 12:47 and I decided it was time to go back in. First I sent out a message on the burner phone to what I hope to God was the right number. 
I headed back down to my room and spent the whole night tossing and turning. When I put on a podcast I slept much easier. I found that the environment I grew up in bred me to not be able to sleep probably without some sort of noise even if it’s just arguing. 
I woke up with my phone on my face and my bonnet halfway across the continent. I checked my phone fully expecting to be late but by some blessing I had at least two hours to get ready before I had to leave. The house was quiet like eerily quiet no TV on or anything. I went to wake up the drama queen, middle child, Aaliyah. When I say drama queen I mean both acting and just straight up being dramatic. And then there’s Sapphire who’s the physical embodiment of a Gemini. I flicked on the lights, revealing toys scattered all over Sapphire‘s side of the room. The only response I got was from Aaliyah who simply whined and pulled her blanket over her head. I picked up a pair of rolled up socks and tossed them at her to which she loudly exclaimed 
“Ow!” 
See what I mean by dramatic but thankfully for me, she woke up Sapphire meaning I didn’t have to step on sharp plastic trying to navigate her side. Not that I could judge her though I can’t remember the last time I had the motivation to clean my room. 
I was fully expecting my dad to be passed out on the couch when I walked into the living room but he wasn’t. He wasn’t in his room either. This was nothing out of the ordinary though, he’d probably be back tonight or tomorrow.
One of the perks of my dad being gone was I could use the bathroom in his room to shower and take as long as I want. Another perk of dad not being here is I can take his car today instead of my skateboard. My sisters don't go to a local school but it’s still way closer to our home then Midtown so they don’t have to go so far away. I,on the other hand, have to skate to the bus stop, get on the metro then get on a subway and skate the rest of the way to school. 
“Y’all wanna get something to eat?” I asked my sisters once we were in the car. 
“Wendys!” Sapphire interjected from the backseat 
“No one wants to eat Wendys,” Aaliyah turned around from the passenger to face her. “Get McDonald’s” she demanded, turning back to face me. 
“Oh so you don’t want Wendys but you can eat the plastic from McDonald's,” Sapphire asked accusingly. 
“Wendy's tastes like shit,” 
“You taste like shit,” 
“That doesn’t even make any sense!”
I just giggled at the fact this is what they decided to argue about. 
“I’m just gonna get somethin’ from Mr. Washington, Since it’s the closest thing to us” was all I said before turning the radio up. 
I pulled into the parking lot. Looking at the buildings that look like they should be dead. With their bulletproof windows with anti robbery bars. It’s honestly depressing if you think about it for too long. But these places are nothing but living and bustling no matter what. Like the roses in the cracks of the sidewalk. I left the keys in the ignition once my sister confirmed they weren’t coming inside. 
“Hey Y/N,” Mr.Washington’s son said from the kitchen. I believe he’s 18 now?
“Hey,” I nodded my head at him walking towards his father to order. 
“Hey, Y/N how are you doing?”
“I’m good how are you?” 
“I’m good thanks for asking, you know you look more and more like your mom everyday,” he pointed out and I just smiled. “She was a great kid,” 
“Yeah…” I trailed off. 
“So the usual?” he asked and I nodded. 
I don’t know how but he remembered everyone’s usual orders and knows everyone’s names. 
Quick rule of thumb the best food comes in brown paper bags.
Once I was back in the car I had to make the conscious effort not to speed. MJ never goes anywhere when I drive because I “drive like I have nothing to live for” which personally I just think she’s dramatic. 
Honestly my sisters are so lucky they go to a local school. I mean yeah the education at Midtown is better than the local highschool, but it’s not like I even belong there. So basically I commute almost 40 minutes everyday to a school I’m not smart enough to go to.  
By the time lunch came around I had a terrible headache the smell of my food made me vomit. And no I’m not being dramatic I really had to stop by the bathroom and throw up. 
Now I didn’t really feel like walking all the way over to sit at my usual table so I just sat with the school stoners. Yes cliques are real and if this were a movie I’d be one of those clique surfers. Pretty much everyone is a clique surfer if we’re being honest. 
I don’t know why they get such a bad wrap stoners have got to be some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Like this one girl Jessica she gave me one of my first tattoos for free in freshman year when I met her. Since she noticed that I looked stressed, she offered to let me hit her cart. I didn’t even have to ask her 
Oh my god I’ll marry you were my exact thoughts at that moment. That I’d apparently voiced out loud because she responded with. 
“I’m down. When’s the wedding?” 
Her and two guys who were sitting at the table with us made their way to the boys bathroom with me. 
 After about 3 hits I could feel the life returning to my body as if the rain finally stopped crashing down and the rainbow entered the sky. I could've sworn I heard God say “I’ll never flood the earth again” 
“Do you think I’d look good with a nostril piercing?” I asked while examining my nose in the mirror. 
“Are you kidding me? You’d look hot as fuck,” Jessica added in. 
“You should pierce her nose, J” the guy who was standing closest to the door said. Zach I think. 
“Yeah I could do that, do you want me to?” She asked. 
I pondered it for a second before the boy who already looked off of cloud nine Tyler I believe his name was interjected with 
“She’s really good at it, she did my girlfriends,” 
You know what? Fuck it 
“Why the hell not,” I said
“Alright,” she said after clapping her hands and walking over to her backpack on the floor. She pulled out a lighter and an earring. She lit the earring to disinfect and I hopped up on the sink and she moved towards the right side of my body. Just as she was asking me where exactly I wanted it we all jumped at the sound of the door creaking open. 
Low and behold Peter Parker of all people walked in. 
“Uh I was just gonna...yeah,” He stammered out still standing by the door. He was still just staring at me. Now I’m not sure if it was because I was a girl in the boys bathroom, if I looked high, or if it was the fact I was about to pierce my nose in a dirty school bathroom but he was starting to make me feel awkward. 
“Can I help you?” I asked. 
“Oh,” he said as a blush raised up his cheeks “I’m just gonna,” he pointed to one of the stalls before scurrying into it. 
Jessica simply chuckled and called him cute.
By the time he came back out to wash his hands the earring was already pushed into my nostril with a slight pinch. Jessica told me that I’d have to clean the piercing everyday for a couple weeks, which is something I could manage. I hopped down the sink and asked 
“Do I look okay?” Referring to my eyes
“Yeah and me?” Jessica asked
“Yeah you’re good,” I reassured her. That was the last thing she needed to hear before her and the other two guys left the bathroom. 
As Peter was washing his hands I turned back around to look at my nose in the mirror. It was still a little red with irritation. It was also slightly sore to the touch. I was shaken out of my thoughts by Peter’s voice. 
“Did that hurt?” He asked. 
He was so adorable. 
“This?” I pointed to my nose and he nodded. 
“No not really,” I said grabbing my bag off the floor. 
“Well this very short convo has been a blast but I gotta go,” 
Okay so, I hadn’t been to the class in like forever because of the sheer fear of what would happen cause I skipped it so much. However, my fear of having to confront Olivia is stronger and she was coming towards me so, I ran in through the door. Ugh I’m such a pussy. I saw her walk out of my view. I was gonna turn back out and leave but ,unfortunately I had already locked eyes with the teacher. Looking around at all the students staring at me I just looked back at the teacher. 
“Y/N! So nice of you to finally join us,” Ms Warren just had to announce. I simply choose to give a curt nod before she said 
“We’re doing a partnered assignment, you can sit by Peter,” She said while pointing near the back of the classroom.  
I made my way to the back of the class and slumped into the seat. 
“Hey,” I said putting my legs on the empty desk in front of me. 
“Hey, didn’t know you were in this class,” Peter pointed out. 
“I mean I don’t think I’ve been here since the second week of school? Yeah I’m not sure. So from the beginning of sophomore year to now would be like maybe 1…2...3. No 2, yeah 2.” I went on before realizing I was rambling “Sorry I’m talking too much I’m like tiniest bit faded right now, and okay let me shut up,” 
“No, no you’re fine. I like hearing you talk” 
“I’ll be right back,” I whispered before raising my hand. 
“Yes Y/N?” Ms Warren asked. 
“Can I go to the bathroom?” 
She sighed “Uh, Yes I guess that’s fine just don’t take to long,” 
I grabbed the pass and started down the hallway. I was never planning to go to the bathroom. In all honesty I was going to the freshmans’ lunch cause I’d gotten hungry. I was in the line to get snacks when I felt a buzz in my pocket. I knew it was the burner phone so I got my chips and went outside to the area of the school with no cameras. Looking around to make sure no one was looking. I opened the text. Which read 
this T?- B 
yes, do you still have it?- T I responded 
I do- B 
ok meet at usual X and Place- T 
ok- B
I’d confirmed my brother could pick up my sisters from daycare. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about them at home when I was doing what I needed to do. 
I was trying to keep a low profile. I don't need anyone to claim they saw Thorn tonight. Since I’ve been on the radar of the police more often lately. No one would be looking in an abandoned train cart anyways. I‘d be fine. I just went with a black hoodie and a bandana to cover my face. 
But of course Black Cat was in her suit because when was she ever not. 
“You sure this is it?” I asked 
“Yes I’m sure,” she said and placed the flash drive in my hand. I stuffed it in the pocket of my hoodie. 
“Don’t forget what we talked about,” she said pointedly. 
“Yeah, yeah I’ve got you,” 
Great now I have to get into the government protected flash drive and clear her name. Just as I was about to turn to leave. The sound of someone sliding open the doors to one of the carts. 
“Were you followed?” she whispered
“No of course not,” I rolled my eyes 
I only had one weapon on me but I knew that Black Cat could handle whoever it was. Although just because she could do this on her own doesn’t mean I was gonna help. I had one expandable baton. Waiting for whoever was here to come in. I got my baton knocked out of my hand. 
The fight that broke out wasn’t really a fight if you could even call it that, it was just like 3 guys trying to get the flash drive and us knocking them out. I did however get my fair share of bruises but that’s only because I was thrown into the wall once. I did have a pretty deep gash on my forehead but I should be able to cover it with a headband.  
I almost gave myself a heart attack when I checked my sisters’ room because I forgot they were at our brothers house. My dad also still wasn’t home so I was just sitting home alone on the living room floor watching ‘Nick at Night’ with a caked up bloody forehead eating cold leftover spaghetti. 
I knew my dad had come home because I heard the keys turning in the door but I was too tired to move. 
I should’ve moved. 
By the way the door was slammed shut I could tell he was in a bad mood. And what’d he do when he was in a bad mood? Take it out on me. 
I don’t remember what happened. I just know he said I looked like a whore and I probably got heated and blacked out, but I do know I was in immense pain and my nose was bleeding and the police were on their way. 
Only two things could come from my dad calling the police: I get sent back to the Psych ward or I get arrested. I wasn’t about to stick around to find out which one was going down. 
I grabbed my skateboard and took off. Technically he did kick me out so he couldn’t say I ran away. 
I can’t exactly recall how I remember where he lived seeing as I hadn’t been there since his girlfriend died. 
I was going to knock but I knew he never actually opens the door. I went around to the back and started banging on the window and I’m sure looking at this from an outsider's view it must’ve looked like I was breaking in. Which I’m not sure that I wasn’t. I could see his shadow. 
“Open the fucking door, Wade!” I yelled from the door I could see his light was on. 
He sleepily strutted down to the door and slid it open. 
“What do you- Oh my god you look terrible,” He stated. 
“Oh really? Thanks, I didn’t notice,” I spat back pushing past him. 
I popped down on the couch. 
“I need somewhere to stay for a minute” I said once I was settled in. 
He moved over to me and grabbed my face but I pushed his hands away. 
“I’m fine,” I lied “Can I stay here though?” 
“Did you really think I’d ever say no?”
He examined my face again 
“Did your dad do this?” He asked. 
He took my silence for the answer that it was. 
“Do you want me to kill him?” He asked as what I thought was supposed to be a joke but I was scared to answer yes cause I knew there was a chance he actually would.
He was never very fond of my dad from the moment he’d met my mom. Wade was always trying to keep my mom away from him.
If only she’d listened. 
“Yes, I was joking and go clean your face before you get infected” 
Oh well I guess I voiced that thought out loud. 
I promise I was just looking for the first-aid kit but who was I to say no to a 6 ounce bottle of Hennessy. It was almost as if it’s eyes bore into my soul calling after me because it knew I was too weak to resist. 
The sweet burning sensation of it going down my throat was relieving and fun at first until I realized I was turning into my dad. Then it wasn’t so appealing anymore it was just depressing. 
The last thing on earth that I’d want would be anything like him. It was pathetic. 
It was pathetic how I had to throw up because apparently I couldn’t handle my alcohol.
It was pathetic how I couldn’t even bring myself to stand in the shower. 
It was pathetic how I couldn’t even hide the fact I was drunk. 
It was pathetic how I broke down crying in front of Wade. 
It was pathetic how he had to lull me to sleep by stroking my hair. 
It was pathetic because I knew he wasn’t mad.
It was pathetic because it wasn’t anger it was pathetic because it was pity. 
Pity. I hated pity with my entire chest. She always seemed to just hold you down underneath the water knowing you couldn’t breath but the feeling around you made you believe you were floating. It’s like the feeling of drowning in the open sea but it isn’t painful but still you know you’re gonna die but you can’t help but look at how beautiful everything around you is. All the fish, the seaweed, the sunlight shining through the water. But still you’re drowning and you know you’re gonna die so how beautiful can it really be?
Pity. That’s what I saw in the hallways so I knew I must’ve looked terrible because no one bothered to say anything negative about me. Everytime anyone looked at me it was like they knew. They knew. They knew that I had a shitty life and a fucked up family. Of course they didn’t but I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that everyone knew. 
Everyone was looking at me with a glint of pity in their eyes because I knew I looked like I was going to pass out at any moment now, I had bruises everywhere, I had no makeup to cover them up, possibly had a broken rib, and the gash on my forehead was probably still visible under the sweatband.  
Literally everyone looked like they felt bad for me. Except Flash. I never thought I’d say this but, thank God for Flash. The only sense of normalcy I’d experienced all day, was him calling me a witch then acting like it was the funniest thing ever and walking off after I told him to go fuck himself. One thing about Flash is he’s unoriginal. He'll find one “good” joke and use it for the rest of his life. The fact I could put out a lit match in my mouth spread around through a tiktok at some point, and he’s been calling me a witch ever since. I’m assuming the fact I had a pretty gothic style freshman year probably played a part in it too. Major small dick energy right there. 
I was on the verge of passing out and all I really wanted was to go out and get high with my old friends but I can never get what I want. Can I? The universe must really fucking hate me.
I just went to the nurses office and slept all throughout lunch but when I woke it was like I was even more tired than before. 
I wonder if this is what zombies feel like. I couldn’t tell if it was getting bad again or if I was just getting sick because the lines were blurred between a depressive episode and a cold or the flu. However my eyes were watery and my nose was stuffed so hopefully it was the latter. 
The odds had finally aligned in my favor and the class I’d skipped like all year teacher was out. We had my favorite sub who was really just the ISS teacher. Normally I would’ve sat by him and caught him up on all the chisme I had but I felt terrible. So I just leaned on the closest person to me instinctively. Once my brain caught up to my body and I realized. I was laying on Peter's shoulder. I shot it and immediately apologized. 
“Oh no, you’re fine I don’t mind,” he said. 
Well okay then. I think I slept at least 10 minutes in every single class today. Which is good I’d need it cause I forgot I promised my brother I’d babysit today. 
After I sent Wade a text that I probably wouldn’t be back in his house for a while. I went to my brother's house. Sometimes I’m jealous of him for getting to escape our dad and live in an actual nice area.  He literally has a house. Like he has his own property, no landlords or anything.  Pros of him having a different mom I guess. However he needs to stop having kids. Like yes I love my niece and my nephews however they can be the biggest pain in the ass. 
“I get off at like 11, so make sure they don’t break anything or die thanks, and you know where everything’s at, so,” He said, giving me a hug before walking towards the door but right before he opened it he turned around with a smile on his face. 
“Oh and don’t get my kids high,” 
I rolled my eyes trying to keep the edges of my mouth from turning into a smile. I lost that battle. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever asshole,” I flipped him off. 
I went into the room where the youngest child was sleeping. Taylon, he was about 1 I believe. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about him for a while. I made it back to the front room where the two trouble makers Kaitlyn and Jason. Kaitlyns the oldest at 4 years old and Jason at 2. Although I don’t think Kaitlyn has ever gotten in trouble like ever because she’s a huge daddy’s girl. 
I had like 36 missing assignments for Physics and about 4 things of homework one test to study for, a partnered project to work on, still had to go two decathlon practice 3 days a week, and a flashdrive to get past the firewall of. God could I use some adderall right now. 
By distracting the kids in the room with me with the Cocomelon channel. 
I’d put my headphones on and nodded along to my music and actually got two homework assignments done in a relatively short time before the screaming started. I went to get Taylon who’d woken up because he peed. I changed his diaper but he was still crying. 
I truly did not have time for this. I fed him and everything. Thank God the Cocomelon was still distracting the other kids. Whoever made that channel needs a raise. I could not get him to stop crying for more than 5 minutes. I found if I held him he’d stop but I didn’t have the time to just sit around holding him. 
I gave him my phone and let him play with that which shut him up. 
Then Kaitlyn decided to come and pester me about food. I made peanut butter jelly sandwiches, but they decided they didn’t want them after I’d already made them. So here I was making spaghetti with a toddler on my hip and doing homework at the same time. 
I’d actually gotten used to all this multi tasking that’s when I heard a knock at the door. 
I put the spoon back in the pot and closed my textbook heading over to the door. 
I open the door to Peter standing there. 
“Uh Hello?” I asked more than said. 
“Uh, yeah hi, we were supposed to work on the project?” 
“Oh shi-” I almost said then remembered I was holding a kid. “Sorry I forgot,” If we're being completely honest I don’t remember anything from school that day nor do I remember telling him to come here but I wasn’t gonna send him away. 
“Well you can come in” I announced stepping towards the side of the door. 
“Sorry about the chaos” I gestured to everything. ”You can go sit on the couch, I’ll be right over” 
He did just that and sat his backpack on his lap. 
“Jason, Kaitlyn bebé ven a buscar tu comida” 
( Jason Kaitlyn baby come get your food) 
They made their way over still attached to the tablet. 
“I thought your dad said no tablet at the table?” I said. I wasn’t really going to take it away, I was just teasing. 
“I thought you were fun tía,” Jason shot back. 
“I am fun!” I said fake hurt and they both giggled. 
I slid the plates across the table towards them. “Here eat,” 
“¿Es tu novio de ahí?” Kaitlyn asked looking over at Peter. 
(Is that your boyfriend over there?)
“No he’s not, but can you watch your brother for me for a little bit?” 
She nodded. I shifted Taylon off my hip and slipped him into his high chair and gave him a bag of chips. 
Plopping down next to Peter I clapped my hands.
“Okay sorry about the wait, so what do we need to do?” 
After explaining the project to me we’d gotten half of it done and Taylon was napping again and everyone else was quiet and watching TV. We probably could’ve finished the whole thing if we hadn’t gone on so many tangents. Peter was actually good at explaining things. 
We talked about literally everything from favorite flavors of starburst to life goals and shit. I don't know what I want in life actually. It’d be cool to go to college but it’s expensive and no one else in my family has been. 
When it got late Peter announced that he had to go. 
“Alright let me walk you out,” I pushed up off the couch.
“You’re really smart, I know you don’t think that but you are,” he said almost out of nowhere once we were out the door. I could feel my face heat up. This is a moment I was thankful for my melanin allowing me not to blush. 
“Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself, Parker,” 
“So we're doing this same time tomorrow right?” 
“Yes, that’s the plan,” 
For the past week I’d convinced my brother to let my babysit everyday so I could still hang out with Peter. I never thought that we of all people could be friends. Before this he was so like “Peter” just way too much. Once you get to know him he’s not that bad. We’d finished the project and I still hadn’t done any of my other work but by the power of adderall I’d gotten into the flashdrive. I was too scared to check anything in it, but I did erase Black Cats name from the police station records. 
It’d been at least three more days and I hadn’t done any work. I hadn’t talked to Peter or MJ or anyone else either. The one other human I’ve had contact with is Wade. Even with me living at his house it was still minimal. I hadn’t gotten much sleep because adderall keeps you up at all hours of the day but I don’t think I could survive without it. 
I knew I had to be walking. I was walking because I had to. I mean I was walking and I had no intention of stopping. I was getting major deja vu. This exact place felt so familiar.
Oh- that’s why.
I was in the projects where I used to live. I was off in Bronxchester off of 156th St. Ann’s Avenue. I hate this place so much.
I hated it.
I hated it. 
I hated it. 
Having to live in a rat infested one bedroom apartment sleeping cramped up on top of my siblings was literally the worst time of my life. The shitty school University Heights where half the girls were pregnant. Not to mention my dad was on a fucking rage rampage all the time cause he couldnt get a job as a felon. 
I was still walking though. I knew I was going somewhere. Not sure where until I’d gotten near the Hartz chicken on the end of the street. That’s where I was going. I knew I was meeting up with my friend. How could I forget that? I was about to cross the street until someone in a grey van rolled down their window sticking out a gun.
I knew she was gonna get shot. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Yet still I was screaming at least I was trying to. I couldn’t find my voice. 
By the time I could it was too late.
I’d seen her. The bullets piercing her skin would be something seared into my brain forever. And as fast as the car came it was gone. 
Then I was running. I was running to get to her because I could still help her. I had to.
She was bleeding and there was too much blood. It was everywhere. I remember my brother told me if someone is ever bleeding out you need to stop the blood. 
I could barely see because my tears were clouding my vision. I was pushing down on her stomach screaming for someone to call 9-1-1. Just to help. 
“You’re gonna be okay,” I remember saying it over and over again I don’t know if I was trying to convince myself or her.. 
The police got here right after I’d watched her eyes gloss over just because that’s how it works in Melrose. Yes she was gone but she was only the first of many. The police had never done anything for me before so why would they start now. 
They had to pry me off her. They couldn't, I had to help, I had to… I had to help. She didn’t like to be alone. Yeah sure she’d done bad things but she didn't deserve this. She was just a kid. I was just a kid. They took her phone while I was screaming not to touch her.
 They asked for my parents' information. I didn’t want to tell them, I didn’t want my dad. I don’t wanna see him. I just wanted my friend back. They loaded her into the back of the ambulance. I
 knew they were driving away. I was running and screaming. I could feel people staring. I knew they were looking at me. I knew they knew. I didn’t care, I had to run. I had to get her. A pair of hands grabbed me from behind and I started thrashing. 
I couldn’t, I can’t, I had to help, I had to help her. I was still screaming and my throat was sore. Her blood was everywhere, it was all over me and I couldn’t I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t help myself. I was scared. 
“Hey,” I felt myself being shook from behind. “Hey!” 
I turned around to Wade’s familiar face. 
“I’m sorry for waking you, I know it’s dangerous or something like that but you were just screaming and I got worried,” 
Wasn’t supposed to wake me?
“I was,” my voice was small I sounded 5 I felt 5 “I was sleeping walking?” 
“Yeah you were”  he confirmed, leading me to one of the stools by his kitchen island. 
He sat me down, walked off and got me a glass of water. I didn’t realize how bad I was shaking until I tried to bring the cup to my lips. 
He brought a towel to the side of my arm dabbing at it. The blood dripped from the side of my wrist all the way down to my elbow. 
“What’d you cut yourself on?” He asked and I shrugged my shoulders. 
“You know they never even said her name?” I said after we sat in silence for a moment. 
“What?” 
“Rose you know my friend,” 
“Oh…” he said as the realization of who I was talking about settled in. 
“Yeah her, they never said her name no one said it around me because they felt I was gonna break, they all just looked at me like I was made out of glass, I don’t even know how people knew I was there. But I was- I was just so angry, ”  
I waited to see if he was going to say anything but he didn’t. He was just going to listen, no jokes to lighten the mood just listening. 
“Even on the news. To everyone outside of St Ann’s she was just a ‘14 year old girl caught up in gang violence fatally shot’ they used a terrible picture of her too. It made my blood boil that, that was all she got, Then I realized that’s just how it was for us and the only way I was making it out the hood was if it was 6 feet under,” 
My mom used to say that’s what they did for black people, used a picture of them looking ‘hood’ some people call it a thugshot. They use a picture that makes them look mean and aggressive. She was neither of those things she was the nicest person I ever knew. She just got caught up in the gang mess because it was the only family she had.  
“I’ve never talked about this before, but I feel like everyone just forgot about her like it’s only been 2 years and I’ve never heard anyone say her name. At least not around me” I ran my finger on the tattoo of a rose. “This was the first tattoo I’d ever gotten I did it myself so it’s kinda shitty but I feel like it keeps her memory alive, because if no one else was gonna do it and If wasn’t gonna then who would you know?” I trailed off for a second. Then noticed he was in the Deadpool suit just without the mask. 
“Where are you going?” I asked. 
“Now I think you know me well enough to know I’m not telling you that,” He smiled and I smiled back weakly. 
“You’ll be okay though?” He asked. 
“Now I think you know me well enough to know I’ll be okay,” I turned his own words against him. 
I glanced back down at the tattoo and I remember looking over the tattoo on my finger for you it means merely nothing. Just another girl getting another basic tattoo. For me it means everything. It was the way I fought back. It was my first ‘fuck you’ to everyone to everything. It was my best friend. It was my first love. So to you I’m just another girl with another basic rose tattoo but to me. To me? It’s the way I remember it’s the way I keep my friend with me. It’s the way I’d make sure I couldn’t forget the unforgettable. Roses are delicate and fragile but they’ll hurt you when you try to pick them. So even the most beautiful of flowers would defend itself if it came to it. To you my rose tattoo is just a flower. However, to me Rose was the most beautiful human this world had ever seen.
Art had to be my favorite subject. Solely for the reason I’ve never had a non chill art teacher, but today it was Physics which is usually my least favorite class. 
Only because the class made me feel like my day was turning around. 
MJ was standing next to me when I opened by locker and loudly exclaimed 
“Yes!” 
“What?” She turned to me “What is it?” 
“Sorry for scaring you, it's nothing. I just found some candy” I held up the Push Pop “See?” 
“Oh if you don’t show up to practice today they’re kicking you off the decathlon team, and make sure you get to class on time though,” 
“Of course when have I ever been late,” 
She gave me a look that had “really?” written all over it. 
“Okay don’t answer that question but I’m going, now you need to get to class you have a test to take,” 
I’d taken the test already because I had Harrison’s class on A day, but MJ wasn’t the type to cheat. She was smart enough and didn’t need my help.
She was very smart but she wasn’t smart enough to know the Push Pop wasn’t really a push pop at all. 
It was a cart that I thought I’d lost. It was just hidden in an empty Push Pop. Nightmares made me stressed and I know the perfect way to relieve stress. I know many actually such as (good) sex, running, fighting, throwing knives at shit, and weed. Luckily for me this is the last one. 
So here I was sitting in the back of the class by the farthest window away from Peter with a “Push Pop” in my mouth and my head down on the desk. I never really paid attention in class but today we were just watching some documentary so I didn’t have to. 
One of the students office workers came in and gave a note to the teacher and I figured it was about the new student I heard some of the students talking about here and there. I didn’t think anything of it until. 
Briana walked in behind Principal Morita. Briana was my best friend from elementary through middle school and the first half of freshman year before I switched schools. She acted... I didn’t wanna say ghetto but you could definitely tell she was from Melrose if you were from there. I can’t blame her with her dad being a leader to the local set and all. 
The teacher told her to introduce herself to the class and she kept it short and sweet. Then she was told to find a seat. I waved her over and she sat next to me. 
“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” She said. 
I laughed 
“As if, you’re the most extra person I know,” I said, taking another hit. 
“First of all fuck you second of all give me a hit,” I smiled handing the “Push Pop” over to her.
”Don’t you dare get caught.” 
She stuck her head under the table lightly blowing out her mouth then inhaling before the vapours could go too far out. 
“So where you been at? Haven’t heard from you in a minute,” 
“Been busy with school shit, but I’ve been around,” I responded taking the “Push Pop” from her again. 
“How’s your dad?” She asked. I just gave her an incredulous look and went.
“How’s your dad,” 
“Same old same old,” 
We spent the rest of the class with her catching me up on the people from our crew and reminiscing. Also might be good to mention we finished half the cart. So I was bugging. We both were. I would not have remembered to go to the decathlon meeting if it weren’t for MJ reminding me again. I didn’t really care for the team. I was just an alternative and I was only doing it so I could pass Mr. Harrington’s class because of the  extra credit. 
Thank God Peter wasn't at the meeting. I hadn’t talken to him since we turned in our project last week. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him per se. I could just feel myself getting closer to him and I didn't have time for more friends. Because everyone I end up loving leaves me. The more people you let into your life the more people you give the chance to leave. Seeing as I was ‘Thorn’ I probably shouldn’t get close to Spiderman anyway. 
Flash was talking about Briana. He didn't say her name directly but I knew he was talking about her. Since he was talking about the new girl. He talked shit about everyone, so I don’t know why this made me as angry as it did. It just rubbed me the wrong way but it did. Seeing as I naturally gave zero fucks and had no impulse control. I definitely had way less control over myself when high. So before I knew it I’d punched him in the nose. 
“Y/N!” Liz and MJ yelled simultaneously. 
“What the fuck?” Flash screamed, holding his face. 
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fucking daddy’s money ass bitch,” I pointed in my face. 
“Y/N enough, go to the office,” Mr. Harrington said. 
I could hear Flash calling me crazy as I walked out the room. Which put a smile on my face. The weird thing about principals is that the more you get in trouble the more they like you and the less harsh your punishments. I only got a week of detention which wasn’t too bad but that stupid “so you got dentention” video of Captain America was gonna get extremely annoying. 
I was right it’d only been two days and every time I heard it I wanted to rip my head off. By the third day Peter and MJ had both joined me. 
MJ didn’t even actually have detention she never did; she just liked to “draw people in despair” or whatever it was that she said. Today she was drawing Peter. It was surprising to see him here.  I was scrolling through tiktok. I was going to say something to him but what would I even say?
I grew some balls and I’d said hi. It was just small talk but we still spoke nonetheless. The week was going by so fucking fast. Tomorrow’s the day we’re going to Washington. I did have to spend a lot of my saved money though. I’d spoken to my sisters and they said dad was sober now and he wanted me to come home. Which I’m not sure if I believe. I mean I know he’s sober. I talked to him too but how long would that last. How many times has this happened before? I don’t have time to worry about him. 
It seemed like I had only blinked and now I was on the bus to D.C. Now for the next couple of days I gotta stay in a hotel room. Nothing out of the ordinary for me, except now I get to stay with MJ and Bri. I don’t know how I managed to convince Mr. Harrington to let her come. 
Peter had almost missed the bus but showed up last minute. Liz was drilling people and MJ was sitting near her participating so I had the seat to myself. Bri was behind me on facetime with her boyfriend who just happened to be my ex. None of it was awkward though since we only dated for like a week and decided we were better off as friends. If we were being honest I was so tired. I felt like shit. Listening to sad music when sad is a set routine of mine so I was listening to Violent Crimes and staring out the window before I knew it I had drifted off to sleep. 
Taglist:
@tomdiddlyumptious
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neighborhood-merc · 5 years ago
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Guys !!! I am back! First of all, I hope all of y’all (your friends, family, pets! too) are doing alright. Keep safe! Wash your hands! Don’t go out if not necessary! Kisses! Kisses! Kisses! Alright, alright, let’s do this shall we? Same shit applies. [Here is Part 1 & 2 btw ] 
The themes of the stories on this list varies, I’m either into something heart-warming, fluffy, domestic that sort of stuff or into some really really heavy and dark messed up ones. (READ THE TAGS) It always depends on the mood am I right? *wink wink*
It’s always gonna be smutty though lol
As long as it’s tastefully written, whatever kinky shit, I can be into it, I don’t judge the writer (they give us free content y’all, who are we to judge??) With that being said if I add something straight up messed up here now/or in the future, don’t come for meh, just mind the tags of the fic, for your own discretion if anything.
this list should be Wade Wilson/Peter Parker - Spiderman/Deadpool pairing only. I kinda like my babies greedy/possessive for/of each other.
READ THE TAGS.
I don’t care who tops or bottoms.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Summaries are taken directly from the fanfic’s summary.
Read the tags first!
Deluge (this is such a good boi, this fic is a good boy!) Weapon X chose Wade Wilson because of several factors in his life. He was a preternatural. He had extraordinary abilities that could be expanded upon. The cancer just made him desperate enough to agree to whatever they wanted to do with him.They didn't just turn him immortal. They destroyed his very soul, tearing him apart and shaping him into something new and never seen before. They took everything he had been and left him with ashes and bones. Soulless.He killed his creators and went on with his life.Then he met Spider-Man.Things started to change.Something inside him, something that had come out of the ashes and was a nightmarish, terrible thing, sat up and took notice. An intense, single-minded notice.
The Perks of Working Third Shift An AU in which Wade is wandering the globe and ends up in NYC where he meets the absolute most perfect man he's ever seen who's working third shift at a quick mart. Even better, the man seems happy to flirt back. Wade makes it his mission to score a date.Peter stopped dating a long time ago, but Wade's flirtations, energetic attitude, and hilarious comments make it hard for Peter not to enjoy the attention. But will all of that be ruined if Wade finds out his secret?
Better Like This  (Listen,  NotEvenCloseToStraight’s Spideypool works are amazing, read all of em, honestly just check out ALL the works of the writers on my list because if I list everything, this is gonna be a long ass list) No one knows Spider-Man is an Omega. Not the newspapers, not the NYPD, and certainly not the overly loud, definitely obnoxious, sort-of-a-good-guy, completely Alpha, Deadpool. And Peter would like it to stay that way. But when he drops into an unexpected heat, Deadpool is the only person he can call to help, and how quickly the Alpha switches from shouting dirty innuendos to whispering comforting things really throws Peter for a loop. After sharing a heat, Peter is convinced that Wade is his Alpha, and is ready to take him as his mate, but Wade rejects him. Wade knows that a man like him wouldn’t make anyone a good mate, much less a perfect, pretty Omega like Peter. So he says no, pushes the Omega away and unable to even work together anymore, they go their separate ways. Peter is devastated, heartbroken, seeking comfort in the arms of another Alpha, and all Wade can do is watch from a distance, and keep telling himself that he is doing the right thing, sparing Peter a life of disappointment and pain. Peter deserves better than him as a Mate, and one day Peter will understand. It’s Better This Way. But is it really?(Peter is Andrew Garfield)
Use Me Peter wants to help Wade. Wants to make him feel beautiful, wants to make him feel wanted... Wants to put out the fire in his own gut whenever he sees the merc for what he really is. He does.
Double Mint Gum Wade decides that only one of his fine-ass self just isn't enough 
Spider Spidey (SPIDERY SPIDEY!)
Bleed the Water Red Peter and Deadpool are held captive by a super-villain that has an inclination for torture. After she boasts her untarnished record at never having hurt a child or teenager, Peter is forced to break the truth to both her and Deadpool.“Did you know I have a perfect record?” The villain collects a rusted pocket knife, tracing it up Peter’s arm, over his shoulders, down to his collarbone, as though considering where to cut. Peter focuses on controlling his breathing, fear twisting awfully in his belly. “You may look down on me, Mr. Spider-Man, but for all the righteous suffering I inflict, I’ve never hurt a child. Not once.”“Y'know, I don’t think you do,” Peter blurts. At his words, Deadpool's stare intensifies. “Have a perfect, non-child harming record, that is.”
Don’t Keep Me Waiting Peter's 90% sure Wade likes him. Or at least he was sure. When you almost jerk off in front of the friend you're definitely not pathetically pining for and they never mention it again, it makes you doubt yourself. Peter knows he should probably just ask what the fuck is going on, but where's the angsty fun in that?
Sometimes When We Touch Peter answers a Craigslist ad for someone who is willing to pay for some unspecified physical contact/sex because he's just that broke. He's surprised to find out Wade Wilson is the one who posted the ad, but thinks he can still manage just fine even when the man explains he'd like him to wear a special costume for the occasion. Of course things become a little more complicated when Wade reveals the outfit he's chosen: a shockingly accurate Spider-Man suit
Sunflower 26 and standing at the head of Parker Industries, Peter feels young in every way. He doesn't know himself, he lacks a lot of experience, and he's struggling to get a grip on what he thinks of the merc with the mouth, an absolute force who has starting pushing his desires in a direction that terrifies him.He desperately tries to come to terms with sexuality, even when it means dragging Wade flat on his face.Takes place after the dance scene in Spider-man/Deadpool, with important plot details omitted. Follows these two through extreme character growth.
Two Thirds of a Whole (I honestly felt weird about this one, but eh, maybe someone who’s into it would appreciate it) Peter Parker and Wade Wilson, finding Vanessa dead and having never met, assume the second body is their other soulmate. When they meet in a market ten years later, they both have a chance they never thought they would get again-- a chance at love.But can they find a way to be happy as two thirds of a whole?
Holding Back The thing about not being able to die is that it makes everything so dreadfully boring. Seriously, immortality's a bitch. So, you gotta keep things interesting. How else are you supposed to get through the day without going insane? Well, more insane.Wade wants to be a hero, but fighting bad guys isn't enough to keep things interesting. Wooing Spider-Man might help, though. And exploring his kinks definitely will. Of course, he never thought anything would come of either of these things. Boy, was he wrong!
Missed You  (Imagine me covering me shyly covering my face for this ehehe) “Wade,” Peter whines, pulling off Wade’s mask and catching his lips in a deep kiss. All he can smell is leather and sweat and gunpowder, and he’s already embarrassingly hard. Wade comes home from a mission. Peter missed him. A lot.
Big Peter can't stop looking at and thinking about Wade's great big arms and shoulders and hands and back. He's fine. (He's not fine.) 
 Slip of the Tongue Sometimes Peter can forget how big Wade is, how much presence he has. Right now is not the time. His heart rabbits in his chest as he swallows, looking up. There’s always something there when Wade’s looking at him, something predatory, that makes Peter nervous and wanting, shivering hot all over.
Wade The Cat  “Aw don’t be afraid little buddy, it’s okay, he’s gone”Wade almost cringes at how someone is talking to him, what the hell?! He’s not a defenseless animal. Wait. No, yeah, he is.Wade looks a little alarmed, stepping back as the man crouches next to him, smiling sympathetically “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. You okay?”Wade holds his breath, gives an once over at the guy, beautiful chestnut eyes, the adorable smile, the red face probably resulting from the cold and the brown humid hair stuck to his forehead as he holds his umbrella for both of them and yep, ladies and gentlemen if he wasn’t before, Wade is right now a defenseless animal because “Meow” Wade says wiggling what should be eyebrows “Honey, I’d let you take care of me all night long” Wade purrs.
Gonzo Journalist (It belongs to a series “We fell in love in October) A young photographer working for The Daily Bugle hears about the tragic fate of an ex-soldier and decides to write an article about his cause to help him out. Maybe more than in one way.
The Man in the Mask When Wade is unceremoniously dropped off into the custody of one Dr. Parker, he assumes the man has only the worst possible intentions for one of the world's last remaining mutants. But it turns out, the universe still holds plenty of surprises for them both.
You Wear My Name Over Your Heart Like It’s Invisible "Why don’t you ever let me see it? If you have the name already, why can’t you tell me whose it is? I thought we were best friends."Everyone gets their Name when they turn twenty-one. It isn’t their own name either. It’s the name of their Soulmate. When Wade Wilson wakes on his twenty-first birthday, he looks down at his chest and sees Peter Benjamin Parker. He stares for a moment then shrugs, gets dressed, and doesn’t think about it for another six weeks.
Parachute, Please Peter unexpectedly goes into heat after an Avengers mission, which could have been fine, but the ride back is 2 hours and he's stuck on a plane with his closest friends and family.At least there's one person he can call at times like these for relief. And in comes Wade.
Peter Parker’s Home for the Wayward Villain A really long redemption story.
And Words Are Futile Devices Peter doesn’t think he’s lonely. He’s too busy to be lonely. He’s twenty-two, working on his PhD and holding down a shitty job at the Daily Bugle, not to mention his nightly extra-curricular activities. He’s too busy for friends, and he’s certainly too busy for romantic interests. And yet, shockingly, apparently everyone in his life thinks he needs to stop being an anti-social recluse and get laid.So Peter enters the wide, wonderful world of online dating. He doesn’t expect to find his soul mate, or even a friend, and he’s definitely not looking for hook ups. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, really, until one Wade W. Wilson catches his eye and captures his heart with risqué dog pics and a concerning obsession with cannibalistic serial killers.This is a love story. A sweet, inevitable journey towards each other. There is humor, and melancholy, and a touch of both gravitas and levity to the weeks that trickle by. But really it’s just an account of the slow, magnetic movement of Peter towards Wade, and Wade towards Peter.
Strays Wade finds Spider-Man unconscious on a roof top. Score!Or: Spider-Man has lost his memories, some of his vocabulary, and all of his social conditioning. Wade is losing his mind.
The Inverse Deadpool doesn't have to try very hard to hide his second gender anymore because ever since Weapon X, no one in their right mind would ever believe that Wade Wilson was an omega. It doesn't matter anyway, because Wade knows no Alpha would keep a male omega. No alpha WANTS one, much less one that's as scarred and unstable as he is. Apparently, Spiderman was born to break every rule Wade has ever known.
The Body Remembers When the Mind Forgets When people need a mate in their life, it isn't usually because they've forgotten they already have one. 
Half Your Age (Plus Seven) In which Deadpool has oddly specific and frustrating morals, Spider-Man has excellent friends, his lab partner has an opening for a bassist, Johnny Storm has the warmest feet, and everyone has had enough of hearing Peter talk about Wade Wilson (except Aunt May: she’s always glad to hear he’s back in town).
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raineydaywrites · 4 years ago
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my brother’s keeper
ao3 link in source! full story also available under the read more
Summary: Day 7 of Febuwhump: poisoning
"Eventually he went to a kitchen, and Lup perked up in excitement for a moment, before it occurred to her to wonder why he came out here in the middle of the night to cook when there was a perfectly good- actually, honestly, a perfect- kitchen in his suite. Lucretia knew what her family liked, and she'd made that kitchen perfect for Taako, so Lup was baffled by his decision to cook elsewhere.
But she pushed past that, eager to cook with her brother again. She hadn't seen Taako cooking since he'd found her, and it kind of bummed her out. Still, with how infrequently she was aware of herself that much, she supposed it wasn't that much of a surprise that she was missing a lot."
Lup wasn't very aware of much that went on outside of her Staff that she'd gotten herself stuck in. Since Taako had found her, she'd had more and more moments approaching true lucidity, but for the most part, her awareness just drifted, less solid than a dream.
In the moments she was more lucid, she was kind of grateful for that. This already sucked a lot, and she could only imagine how much worse it would be if she was constantly conscious through it.
She tended to be more prone to lucidity when Taako was feeling stronger emotions. Which was both a blessing and a curse. It was really nice when he was happy and enjoying himself- spending time with Magnus and Merle, teasing and teaching that kid Lup hadn't quite learned the name of- but it also meant being present in moments when Taako was hurting, and she couldn't do much of anything to help. And he wasn't letting anyone else help either.
Still, she'd rather this than random moments of lucidity. How much would it suck for her to become conscious in like, the middle of the night or something? Boooring.
Well, actually, technically, it was the middle of the night now but Taako wasn't sleeping, so it wasn't so boring.
Lup wasn't sure what Taako was doing exactly, but when he'd left his room, he'd hesitated over bringing her along. Which was kind of weird, honestly.
Even though, to him, she was just an umbrella at the moment, Taako didn't tend to go anywhere without her. She liked to think that he was aware of the significance of the Umbra Staff at least, on some level, but it was equally likely that he just wanted a spell focus with him.
Their whole lives, ever since they'd learned enough magic to use it reliably, Taako had felt uneasy going anywhere without access to a spell focus. Lup had always been the same, except during the cycles when she died and liched it out for the rest of the year.
Still, you gotta have hope, don't you? Especially when you don't have hands or a body or anything you can use to actually influence anything outside of the little prison you'd trapped yourself in when you didn't consider the consequences of making a device that can swallow magic when you are, intermittently, just made of magic-
She was getting off topic.
Taako left the suite he shared with Magnus and Merle, and Lup grew even more curious about what he planned to do in the middle of the night.
Eventually he went to a kitchen, and Lup perked up in excitement for a moment, before it occurred to her to wonder why he came out here in the middle of the night to cook when there was a perfectly good- actually, honestly, a perfect- kitchen in his suite. Lucretia knew what her family liked, and she'd made that kitchen perfect for Taako, so Lup was baffled by his decision to cook elsewhere.
But she pushed past that, eager to cook with her brother again. She hadn't seen Taako cooking since he'd found her, and it kind of bummed her out. Still, with how infrequently she was aware of herself that much, she supposed it wasn't that much of a surprise that she was missing a lot.
Even if it wasn't going to be the same as cooking with him when they both had a body- or at least, a person shaped form, since they'd managed to do some bomb ass stuff even when she was a lich- she was still excited about the whole thing. Honestly, the idea of being the spell focus for Taako's transmutation was kind of cool, in a way. It was a role she'd never played in cooking with her brother. She was a scientist, she loved exploring new things, so this could be really interesting.
Except- then Taako was hanging her by the handle on a hook by the door, holding his hands out toward her like he was trying to warn an excitable puppy to 'stay.'
And he left her there while he washed his hands, pulled out ingredients, washed his hands again, pulled out cookware, washed his hands again, and then stood over everything he'd gathered, not doing anything with it, just breathing heavily like he was afraid of touching any of it.
What the fuck.
Lup couldn't ask it verbally, no matter how much she might want to, so instead she just stewed in frustration.
Taako's head snapped toward her, and she realized that she hadn't actually been stewing as much as she thought. She'd moved unconsciously, just a tiny jump on the hook, but still movement, and for a moment, she was elated. She hadn't even been trying to do that. She was getting better and better at controlling the Umbra Staff from the inside, and that could only be a good thing.
But before she could get too happy, she realized that she'd scared Taako.
She didn't know why her movement had scared him. She'd moved of her own volition before, and he'd seemed perfectly willing to accept that his spell focus occasionally developed a mind of her own, so she had no idea what was different about this time.
But something clearly was, because her movement had startled Taako so badly that he'd slid down to the ground, inching away from the counter into the center of the room, where he was now breathing frantically while curled up in a ball and clutching his head as if trying to block out any sounds- or memories.
Fuck. Fuck. Her brother was hurting, partially because of something she did, and she couldn't help him. And it was the middle of the night, so no one else was likely to happen by to help at all, let alone anyone that Taako would actually be willing to accept help from.
She hung there in silence, unable to do anything helpful and unwilling to try to move again because she probably couldn't actually make it far enough to get help, and she'd scared him by moving before, feeling useless and frustrated and furious with herself for her mistakes that had led to this.
She shouldn't have gone after her relic alone. She at least should have sent a message about where she was going, once she'd gotten her plan to hide it into the final stages. After a century together, they should have all realized that they were worse off when they acted alone.
But she hadn't done either of those things, and she couldn't change that. She couldn't change anything.
Her own miserable wallowing was cut off by the sound of the door to the kitchen opening, and two familiar people walking inside.
Lup hadn't realized that Lucretia spent much time with Angus, but she didn't have time to wonder about it. She did file the mental image of Lucretia guiding the sleepy little kid as he leaned into her side away for later examination. She wasn't quite sure how much of her memory at the moment was able to hold that, since it was more of a vague awareness than anything resembling sight, but it was damn adorable, and she'd love to look back on it later, when she and her brother weren't both freaking out.
The way the kitchen was shaped, Lucretia and Angus couldn't see Taako when they first entered, but it wouldn't be difficult to notice him once they got further in.
Lucretia noticed the supplies gathered on the counter, and seemed hesitant to step further in, which made Lup want to scream. It was too late to worry about startling Taako- for whatever reason- just hurry up and help him!
She moved again, more purposeful this time, and a little less obvious because she didn't have a ton of energy to move at all, but it was enough to make a noise and get Lucretia and Angus looking in her direction, though they quickly stopped paying her any attention as their eyes also moved over Taako, curled up on the floor and scared witless for reasons Lup couldn't understand.
She hoped that they did. Knowing something like that could help them to help Taako.
Angus didn't look at all sleepy any more, bolting over to Taako and reaching out to him.
Lucretia wasn't far behind Angus, dropping to the ground beside him and Taako quickly, despite Angus' warning to be careful and the way she winced when she hit the floor.
Lucretia looked between Angus' outstretched hands and Taako, clearly thinking about how infrequently Taako liked to be touched when he was freaking out, but before she could say or do anything about it, Angus' small hands were touching Taako's arms, carefully.
Taako flinched back at first, and Lup wanted to sigh in frustration, but then he leaned forward again, into Angus' touch, and Lup relaxed and softened immediately. It was really cute how much Taako loved that kid.
Lucretia stayed nearby, but didn't touch, letting Angus handle that. She started breathing slowly, meeting Taako's eyes and instructing him to do the same.
He did, and Lup was so, so grateful to Angus and Lucretia in this moment. Even her conflicted feelings about Lucy at the moment were pushed down by her gratitude that the two of them were helping her brother when she couldn't, due to her own dumb mistakes.
As Taako's breathing slowed, but before he stopped staring into nothing, Angus wrapped his arms around Taako's torso in a hug, which Taako returned seemingly instinctively, still following Lucretia's breathing until his own breath stabilized and he buried his face in the top of Angus' hair.
Lucretia stood, giving the two of them some privacy, and walked over to the counter where Taako had put his supplies. She glanced back at Taako hesitantly, unsure about something, and Taako answered her question before she could ask it.
"Yeah, go ahead. Not gonna try to cook again tonight," Taako said, voice raspy, barely picking up his face enough to get the words out at all.
Lucretia nodded tightly, and began to put things away, only the occasional rattle of something returned to its place too firmly revealing the fact that she was angry.
In fact, knowing her as well as Lup did, she could tell that Lucretia was fucking pissed. Lup watched Lucretia for a moment, partially to gather information and partially to give her brother a private moment with his kid. She knew Lucretia, and she could pick up a lot in the movements she made, and the expression on her face, and the cut-off, whispered curses that slipped from her mouth now and again.
Ah. So it was probably a person that had done this to her brother, and they hadn't been punished yet. That was good to know, and Lup filed that information away for later as well.
Eventually, Taako stood, though he was almost leaning on Angus for support as he did so. Angus didn't seem to mind, holding Taako's hand and guiding him out the door.
Lup tried not to be hurt that Taako forgot to grab her on the way out, because he clearly wasn't in the best frame of mind at the moment.
And then she heard him shout from down the hall about forgetting her, and the hurt disappeared entirely.
"I'll get it! Don't worry yourself, Taako," Lucretia called, and reached for Lup.
Lup let herself be grabbed, because she could recognize that the circumstances weren't ideal for her favorite person to carry her back to the suite and she was herself enough to not shock anyone-who-isn’t-Taako automatically. She didn't like the thought of being used by anyone but Taako, not even the other members of her family. (She felt a brief flash of regret at how she'd hurt Merle in the cave. She hadn't wanted him to use her, but she hadn't been herself enough to think to be careful with him either.)
But Lucretia clearly wasn't planning on using her; she was just going to bring her back to Taako's room, so it would be fine. If she didn't let Lucretia pick her up, Lup wasn't even sure if Taako would be willing to trek back to the kitchen to grab her anyway, when he didn't who she was in here, and considering that she'd already scared him earlier.
Lup took advantage of the fact that Lucretia was holding her to see if she could peek into her mind and get more information on the situation. She was able to do that with Taako sometimes, when he was holding her, and she knew Lucy almost as well.
There was a memory running through Lucretia's mind, that Lup wasn't picking up much of, but she got a vague sense of seething rage and helpless frustration- which, same- from it. Taako had- asked Lucretia if the Bureau could find somebody for him. Told her- something- the details of the situation were eluding Lup, because she wasn't really practiced with divination, and Lucy had always kept her mind locked up tight. Lup was kind of surprised she was getting anything, but figured Lucretia probably wasn't expecting anybody to try and breach her mind at oh dark thirty in these empty hallways.
Lup eventually gave up, because Lucretia and Angus had brought Taako back to his room, and Lucretia was setting her beside the end of Taako's bed, where he always put her at the end of the day. But before she did, Lup managed to get a name at least.
Whoever this Sazed asshole was, she was going to murder him.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago
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My Little Secret (Part 3)
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Summary: When a tragic accident happens, Dean takes a drastic measure in order to save the person he cares about most…
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 2,900ish
Warnings: language, time in hell/injury, death
______
“Good morning sunshine!” you heard. You slowly opened your eyes, Alistair kneeling down beside your cell. “How’d the first week go kid?”
“Screw you,” you said, closing your eyes again.
“Want to take a guess how long you been here?”
“Um, a week, asshole,” you said.
“Here yes. In the real world, it’s only been a few minutes,” he said. You opened your eyes, Alistair smirking at you. “Oh, yes. Time’s a bit different down here. Ready to get off the rack yet?”
“Screw you asshole,” you said.
“Always tomorrow to change your mind.”
“How was it today?” asked Alistair, stopping by your cell not long after you’d been dumped in there for the day.
You didn’t move, not that you wanted to. He opened the door and knelt down beside you, cocking his head.
“Want to get off the rack?” he asked, same as he did every day. You stared at his shoe, Alistair poking your shoulder. “You haven’t felt like talking in a long time. You get off the rack, you can get cleaned up, relax in a bed, become my star student. There are perks to that.”
“Promise,” you said quietly.
“Sure I promise,” he laughed.
“No,” you said, closing your eyes. 
“Fine. Back on the rack you go.”
“Y/N,” said Alistair as he visited you maybe a month later. It could have been a year. You weren’t paying attention anymore. You knew a month up there was a decade down there but your ability to keep track of time was more skewed than not lately. “What do you say? Off the rack today?”
“Promise,” you mumbled.
“What do you want to do?” you heard Abbadon say. “Almost everyone breaks by now.”
“Put her on a rack for a few years. See how she’s feeling after that.”
“I see you eyeing my knife more often,” said Alistair one day, your gaze flickering over slowly from it to him. 
“What’s it like?” you asked.
“Tearing into flesh? It’s an art form, not a science,” he said.
“I meant what’s it like being the big bad demon and you can’t break me. You must be the laughing stock of Hell,” you laughed, hearing a few other demons turn away from their own racks. “Aren’t you guys embarrassed of this old hack?”
“I will-“
“You’ll what? You’ve already done everything. Face it. You’re washed up,” you said.
“You’re having your second wind. Don’t worry. No one ever has a third.”
“Rack?” asked Alistair what felt like an eon later. “It has been decades kiddo. It’s okay to say uncle.”
“I wonder how long your little ass lasted before you gave up to Lucifer. A week?” you smirked.
“Dean doesn’t care about you. If you want to continue this charade that’s your choice. He is never coming for you.”
“Rack?” asked Alistair once again at the end of the day. You sat up in your cell, staring at him. “Hm?”
“What do I have to do?” you whispered, barely able to hold yourself up.
“Work the rack. Under my tutelage,” he said. “What do you say?”
You gave a single nod, Alistair smirking.
“Come now. One quick lesson to start and then you can rest,” he said. For the first time, there was no one dragging you through the halls, no hand on you as you followed him through a maze and eventually into the open vastness that was the rack room. He hummed and waved for you to follow him to an occupied one, a trembling man on it. “This is a purely innocent man. He made a deal. George, this is Y/N. She also made a deal but now she has the opportunity to not be in your position. But enough chit chat, Y/N needs to learn and you’re going to be a very good boy and help us out.”
You watched his table of instruments appear, Alistair handing you his favorite curved blade.
“You know the hunter special?” he asked you. You nodded, staring at the tool. “Show George here how it goes.”
You stared down at the man, holding up the blade.
“I’m sorry,” you said. You spun around and stabbed it into Alistair, sighing when he disappeared in front of you, appearing off to the side unharmed. “It was a trick.”
“You tried to trick me first,” he said, your body back on a rack, George free and on his feet now. “So George. Would you like to try?”
George stopped apologizing a while back, just slid up, did his thing and moved onto the next person. You didn’t blame him. It was hard to blame someone that had lost their humanity bit by bit. It was easier that way.
“What do we say today?” asked Alistair. You shook your head and heard him leave you, a few hours of sleepless alone time your one reprieve of the day. 
You heard your cell door open and you didn’t even care that they weren’t giving you a break this time.
You just didn’t care anymore.
You sucked in a deep breath, darkness surrounding you. Something was wrong. You weren’t on the rack. You weren’t in your cell. Something just felt wrong. The air felt wrong. Space felt wrong. 
You slammed your hand and scraped it on something, a stinging pain hitting you.
A very different kind of pain than you were used to. You tried to sit up and smacked your head immediately, groaning at the dull throbbing. 
“I’m alive,” you said to yourself, letting out a shaky breath. “As long as I don’t run out of air.”
You suddenly realized how cold you were, hands feeling around more slowly this time, smooth metal all around you.
“I’m in a morgue drawer again. I’ll be interested to know how…” you said to yourself, quickly realizing you were starting to freeze to death. “Shit.”
You felt around over your head, finding a little string somehow and you pulled, the door flying open. You caught it and pulled yourself out, dropping to the floor with a shake. You righted yourself, finding a doctor standing over an open body. He stared and gave a little wave.
“Uh hi,” you said, wrapping your sheet around yourself. “I’ll just...see myself out.”
You jogged out of the room and down a hall, discovering you were in a county clerks office after a moment. You slipped into a breakroom and found some old clothes in a donation bin, stealing what you could before you were out of there on bare feet.
“Mom? Dad?” you called when you got to the house, opening the door with the spare key. You went inside and to the kitchen, grabbing some water before your glass went flying and you were tackled to the floor. 
You spun around on your back, staring up at a very angry looking Dean.
“Dean! Dean, it’s me!” you said.
“That’s what the shifter two months back said,” he snarled, holding up his arm, a big knife in his hand.
“Get off!” you shouted, kneeing him hard as you scrambled away, smacking your head on the corner of the kitchen table in the process. You fell to your hands and knees, rolling to your side as Dean walked in front of you. He knelt down and grabbed your wrists, staring at you before he made a small cut on the back of your hand. You stared up at him when nothing happened, some water tossed on you next. “It’s me!”
“Sweetheart?” he asked. He tossed the blade aside and pulled you into the most earth crushing hug you’d ever had.
“Dean. I need to breathe,” you said. “Also some water and food would be nice.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Here,” he said, pulling you to your feet and sitting you down at the kitchen table. He ducked into the fridge and pulled out half of an uneaten sandwich, sliding it in front of you. He was quick to get another glass of water for you, picking up the broken pieces of the other one while you dove in. You were nearly finished when he grabbed a chair and sat it next to you, watching you carefully.
“You make this?” you said with a mouthful.
“Yeah,” he said.
“You always make good sandwiches,” you said, wiping off your hands. He waited a few seconds before he was hugging you again, pressing you to his chest. “How long has it been?”
“About a year and a half,” he said.
“Are you okay?” you asked, reaching a hand up to his face. He chuckled and held on tight.
“You’ve been in hell a year and half and ask if I’m okay,” he said. “Yeah, I’m good sweetheart. I missed you so much. Longest 18 months ever.”
“Yeah,” you said with a hard swallow. 
“You want to get cleaned up?” he asked. You nodded, pausing when you turned to leave. “What?”
“You didn’t make a deal, did you?” you asked. He shook his head. “You promised.”
“I kept my promise,” he said quietly. “No matter how much I didn’t want to.”
“Me too,” you said.
“You didn’t sneak out then I take it?” he asked.
“No. You don’t know how I got out then?” you asked.
“No. I’ll call your dad. They’re away right now. Let’s have you take it easy for a little bit. You need to rest,” he said.
“Alright,” you said, holding out your hand. “Come with me?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“Sh,” you heard Dean say when you stirred awake in your old room after your shower, head nestled on his chest. You curled back into him, Dean quiet for a few minutes but he was obviously texting someone. You blinked open your eyes, Dean dancing his fingers up and down your arm. “Go back to sleep, Y/N.”
“I don’t want to,” you said. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one,” he said, putting his phone aside.
“S’okay if you have a girlfriend now. Probably shouldn’t have taken a shower with me if you do but-“
He pressed a kiss to your lips, fixing your hair after a moment.
“The only girl I have is you, my fiancé,” he said. You stared up at him, Dean moving you to rest your head on a pillow before he sat up. “I may not have told the whole truth earlier.”
“You sold your soul you-“ you said, ready to give him the ass kicking of his life when he turned his head, so confused looking you stilled. “You didn’t.”
“I got close. I...I may have gone to a crossroads and even talked to a demon about it but I didn’t do it,” he said. “But I never went back to Lawrence.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, taking his hand.
“Your parents trained me. To hunt,” he said.
“What?”
“I’m a hunter now. A pretty good one too,” he said. You dropped his hand and stood up, going to the bedroom door. “Y/N, wait.”
“Where are they? I’m going to kill the both of them,” you said.
“No, you aren’t and they didn’t put me up to this. I asked, willingly,” he said.
“You what?” you shot back. “I asked you not to.”
“I know. But I also watched those dogs rip you apart. I didn’t want to be helpless again so I learned. I was texting another hunter earlier. I told him I couldn’t meet up on a hunt a few hours from here. That’s all it was,” he said.
“All it was?” you said with a laugh, looking him over. “Look at you. You’re so much bigger and stronger than I remember. You practically killed me downstairs.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I am,” he said.
“You know why I left hunting? Because people die and they get hurt and it fucks them up. I wanted a normal life away from this Dean. I never wanted this for you,” you said.
“Well it happened. Now I know how to protect you,” he said.
“Alistair will try again,” you said, a tiny shiver running down your spine. “It doesn’t matter. All you did was give yourself nightmares for no good reason.”
“I already had ‘em,” he said. “I help people. Maybe this job sucks sometimes and it’s hard but I help people. I have spent all of this time trying, for you. I didn’t get you out but I’m sure as hell not letting you spend another year and a half there again.”
“Did you ever get close?” you asked.
“Not really.”
“I need some air,” you said.
“I-“
“I need some air,” you said, leaving the room and going outside, wandering to the far garage and taking a seat on the workbench. It didn’t take long for Dean to find you, quiet as he leaned against the table.
“You mad at me?” he asked quietly.
“No,” you sighed. “I just didn’t want you to wind up like me.”
“You’re amazing. Why wouldn’t I want to be like you?” he asked. “Total badass on top of that. You held out for a year and a half in hell. That’s-“
“It wasn’t a year and a half,” you said.
“How long was it then?”
“Hundred and eighty,” you said softly, Dean’s face losing its color.
“Years?” he breathed out. You nodded, grabbing his arm when you thought he was going to fall over. “Oh my God.”
“Dean, sit down before you pass out,” you said, helping to sit up on the bench. 
“A hundred and eighty years?” he whispered, looking you up and down. “What-“
“It’s not like, normal years. It is but it isn’t,” you said. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Sweetheart,” he said. “Sweetheart, no one could last-“
“I promised,” you said, gripping the edge of the bench hard. 
“How bad.”
“Dean.”
“How bad did they hurt you?” he asked.
“Worse than you could possibly imagine,” you said, ducking your head down. 
“Did they-“
“Yes. They did it all Dean,” you said. “And then some.”
“You could have broke,” he said. “Sweetheart, you could have and no one would have blamed you. No one could last that long.”
“I just remembered I made a promise. I couldn’t remember what it was sometimes but I knew I made one. I held on to that one little scrap for dear life,” you said.
“I’ll never hunt again,” he said, grabbing your hand. “Never.”
“He’s gonna come back,” you said.
“I’m gonna kill him,” said Dean. “I’ll kill ‘em all. Lock them away.”
“That’s not possible,” you sighed.
“We don’t know that. One way or another, I’m making sure these things leave you the hell alone.”
You jumped up in bed that night, Dean’s hands on you only a slight comfort as you looked around the room.
“S’okay. Just a bad dream. You’re safe,” he said.
“Yeah,” you said, pinching yourself, knowing you were still back home.
“You’re awake, I promise,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.
“Pain is different here. I can’t explain it but it is. It’s how I know I’m back,” you said.
“It kinda makes sense. It’s another plane of existence, right? Hell?” 
“I suppose. A really sucky one,” you said. You sighed and leaned back against him, Dean rubbing your arm. “I’m okay. Go back to sleep, Dean.”
“You’re not okay,” he said, keeping you close, kissing the top of your head. “You don’t have to let it out tonight but whenever you decide to, I’m here, alright?”
“You don’t sleep in hell,” you said quietly. “All I wanted was a night of sleep and I can’t seem to even get through one.”
“You will. You’re safe here. You try to relax and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you,” he said. “Promise.”
You smiled and closed your eyes, Dean shifting the two of you to lay after a minute. 
“So where do you want to go on our honeymoon?” he asked quietly.
“Somewhere warm,” you said.
“We can do that,” he said. “You want like a blowout wedding or a small backyard kind of thing?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “We can figure it out.”
“Do you still…” he trailed off, your gaze going up.
“Yeah. I still want to marry you,” you said quietly. 
“Me too,” he said as you yawned. “I’ll be quiet. You rest now. It’s okay. I promise. He’s not coming near you ever again.”
______
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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years ago
Text
10. Bathroom wall (Part Three) a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova
In the previous parts: The bunch spends a free evening in a bar, where local girls are trying to get closer to the band members. Dave suggests Jeff that he should make Judy jealous but she’s too busy with being outraged about a girl named Claudia dancing with Stone. Finally, Claudia backs down; after a fight with Stone, Judy reveals to Karrie, that her made-up stories about Stone had to do something with her reaction. In the meantime, Mike is feeling sick and refuses Karrie’s advice to take his health issues more seriously. She also shows him pictures of Effie but Mike’s evening ends with a surprising twist. Judy tries to calm down with the help a relaxing shower but she gets unexpected company in the common bathroom… 
@shadowsonoureyes I think I almost completed your drabble challenge 😉
“I got a lion in my pocket and baby he's ready to roar…”
God, I wish this was only a nightmare and I woke up suddenly realizing nothing of this madness has happened actually, maybe I could even laugh at the whole setting. But now, laughing is the last thing I feel like doing, I’ve been standing here since who knows when, I’m freezing, I wanna finish my shower, I wanna dry myself, I wanna get out of here… this with the lots of “wannas” sounds like some random lyrics of The Ramones… But as things stand at the moment, I’ll grow old and die here because this skinny hippo has been splashing beyond the wall for at least fifteen minutes, performing the longest and most inconsistent mix of Prince songs ever, deliberately altering the lyrics, changing the range of lines or even skipping some of them whereas repeating other ones infinitely like a broken record player.
“You got the horn so why don't you blow it…”
Actually, I’ve even started playing with the idea of turning the water on again, maybe this capybara enjoys listening to his own voice enough not even to hear it. But no, that’d be too risky. But I could definitely get rid of the shower gel bottle to be able to rub along my body against cold, I’ve been squeezing that little plastic flask at full strength since he entered here, as if it could help me become invisible. I slowly stoop to place it on the ground in the corner feeling like a compromised spy who’s ordered to put her weapon down without making any suspicious or ambiguous move; but due to the slippery surface under my soles I lose my balance and as I catch towards the wall to prevent myself from falling I drop it… and it lands with a loud crash in the metal shower tray. Fuuuuck… I freeze immediately and perk up my ears holding my breath trying to figure out if he heard it too… of course he heard it, it was as ear-splitting as a rocket launch but maybe he was too distracted and…
“Is somewhere there? Who’s that?”
He heard it…
“Who’s that? Scully? Is that you? Don’t be so shy, we’ve known each other for ages, I’ll even wash your back if you need help…”
Okay, Judy, you can’t hide any longer, you have to find out something, anything… what if I just ran out with a battle cry and grabbed my towel and… okay, maybe something more discreet would be more adequate.
“Scully? I’m coming over…”
“NO!!!” I scream.” It’s not Scully… it’s me… Judy…” I manage to reveal my identity only for the third attempt since my voice won’t obey and insists on sounding comically high-pitched. “And thanks but I’d skip the offer, I can reach my back.” Jesus, I don’t know why I’m babbling this, it’s like…
“Oh… I didn’t know it was you. Actually, I thought I was alone, you were so silent… I couldn’t even hear the water running at you…”
“Because… because… it wasn’t running since… it’s a part of my shower routine, I begin it with hot water then I turn it off and stand a few minutes until I start feeling I’m freezing, this method works wonders on the blood circulation…” I basically yell the end of my bullshit excuse since I turned the water on in the meantime to finally put an end to this awkward situation. Unfortunately, when I turn it off, I can hear he’s still humming, seriously, how much time does he need to dry his balls?
“Anyway… you were right.” he speaks up out of the blue.
I was right? Meaning what? You’re a pervert? You’re a bitch who would bang everything that moves?
“The acoustics in this room are truly excellent.”
You don’t say…
‘I’m flattered by the fact that once in a blue moon you are willing to agree with me. And, uhm, I’m ready with my shower and as you’ve probably already noticed, my towel is hanging on the wall on the other side so… so I’d feel honored if you left…”
“If I left?”
Yes, I mean get the fuck out you pig, you heard it well.
“Why would I leave? I want to enjoy these fascinating circumstances a little bit longer…“
I should have known this wouldn’t be easy, this must be like a dream come true for him: holding me hostage, taking advantage of my miserable situation…
“But seriously, just listen: I really get a dirty mind whenever you're around… Awesome!”
I roll my eyes so hard that I can see my own frontal lobe… Being forced to listen to Stone’s falsetto serenade while being butt naked, fuck, I didn't know what I was missing in my life until now.
“What do you want? Should I sing a fuckin’ duet with you for my freedom?”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually… what about Together Forever by Rick Astley?” I hear him snapping with his fingers and giggling at his brilliant idea.
“Well, the performance of Under Pressure would sound more honest from my mouth right now…”
“You’re just so negative, nothing can please you today seemingly. But as a sign of my generosity, I’m ready to give you that towel.”
How can a voice be so irritating? This nasal tone with the mannered Northwestern accent makes sound everything what he says extremely annoying, I could punch him even for citing the headlines of a newspaper.
“Ha-ha, very funny, Gossard. But let’s skip your cheap tricks and move your aaa…self out of here.”
“Cheap tricks? I don’t think there’d be anything interesting to see here, plus, you’re forgetting about a very important factor: I’m out here wearing a towel whereas you are in there wearing nothing so it is me who makes the rules. But, again, I’m a genuine guy so I give your towel to you, all you have to do is to ask me.” the pain in the ass goes on with his rant.
“Okay. GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL!” I scream angrily stomping of helplessness.
“Why do you have to be so rude? You’re hurting my sensitive soul all the time; if you want me to cooperate, you have to be kind and ask me nicely.”
Once I get out of here, I’m going to fuckin’ kill you, I swear, I’m going to kill you ten times, I’m going to kill your reincarnated bodies too even if you will be reborn as a cute kitten or a baby giraffe…
“GIVE ME THAT FUCKIN’ TOWEL! Please?” I yell again and append a fake, cheesy appeal to my words.
“You see? It sounds immediately completely different.” he snickers satisfied.
“Okay, but we have to clear the logistics first. I think the least awkward way would be you standing facing the door, handing the towel backwards to me and I would reach out for it and…”
“Do you really think I wanna peep?” he asks with amused smugness in his voice.
I do? I don’t? Shit, there’s no right answer to this question, I mean, I’m not interested in him at all, I don’t care what he might think about my look, my body, I don’t even know whether he would think anything at all or he’d just act neutrally like I wasn’t a woman or human at all but fuck, I’m a human, I’m a woman, I could be the possible subject of a guy’s interest too and when I mean “a guy” I don’t think necessarily about him although he’s a guy too…
“I don’t give shit about what you want, what I want is to minimize the level of my retinal damage by not seeing your face, so please do me a favor, turn away from me and give me that goddamn towel.”
By the time I’ve finished the sentence, a pale body with something bright blue at waist-level appears on my horizon with funny side-sliding steps. He’s standing with his back to me, as far as I can judge it even without my glasses, my assumption is only based on the dark trail of his hair on his back. Or he’s an aberrant psychopath who covered his face with his hair to deceive me. He pulls my towel off the wall… okay, that means he’s truly facing the opposite wall unless his shoulders are especially flexible… damn, he reaches it backwards to me lifting his arm to the same height… I’m still not sure about his exact posture…
I slowly walk to the edge of the shower tray, hesitating for a few seconds which one of my body parts I should keep covered before reaching out for it. With a deep sigh, I opt for my breasts and try to grab my towel but there’s still almost a one-yard distance between our hands.
“Stone… you’re too far… could you come closer?” I moan in agony.
“Interesting… until now, you wanted me to go away and now you’re asking me the opposite. Or you’re just trying to trick me into touching you and then get me arrested for sexual assault… no, Camden, I don’t buy it. Anyway, walking backwards is dangerous, what if stumble and fall and break my neck? It’d be safer if you came out of your hiding place, you can’t spend the rest of your life there when I’m gone, I don’t care…”
I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this but I obviously have no choice… I approach him with sneaking steps while terrible thoughts are chasing each other in my mind… What if he can rotate his head 180 degrees like owls? What if he’s got extraordinary eyes like chameleons and due to his particularly developed peripheral vision he can see basically everything around him?
As I finally touch the terry cloth fabric, I immediately tear the towel out of his hand and wrap it around myself. His arm swings automatically back to his body as if it was pulled by a spring and while I pull back into my shelter to dry all my body parts, he keeps standing at attention on the same spot.
“Ahem… I’m ready so… you can go…” I make an attempt to get rid of him.
“You’re not a quick learner… and you’re pretty ungrateful… I haven’t heard the magic word yet.”
I can’t believe this. And I can be grateful to him for not humiliating me even more…
“Thanks…” I mumble.
“I didn’t understand it… it’s strange, the acoustics in that corner must be different, it absorbs sound waves…”
“Thank you, Stone Almighty Gossard, nothing could express my eternal gratitude, you’re my savior, I’d be nothing without you, from now on, I’m your slave!!!” I shout paying special attention to my articulation.
“Could you hear the echoes too? Much better.” he clicks with his tongue satisfied and disappears from my sight with the same hilarious moves he made earlier. “Good night, Judith, and if you happen to have erotic dreams this night, please keep them for yourself, I’d feel embarrassed if you told me about it…” he adds and as I open my mouth for some snarky retort, I hear the door slamming.
Finally. This… prick is just unbelievable, after his performance at the bar he thinks he did me a favor by not behaving a like a perv? And erotic dreams? Come on, I’d rather puked myself to death of his sight.
I have to use the awkward choreography I invented earlier to get back to my stuff I left on the chair, although I myself don’t really understand either, why, I’m alone after all... As I lean down for my glasses, my fingers reach out for… nothing. They’re gone! I grope the whole chair along… still nothing! I put down the shower gel bottle and try to crouch down to check the floor under the chair, which is not easy to do at all without exposing my intimate body parts. I keep adjusting the towel with my left hand while I try to scan trough every inch of this goddamn place with the other one and I’m about to drop the freakin’ towel when I hear a weird noise from behind my back. Snorts… silent snorts… like someone was suppressing laughter… oh shit. That moron, that son of a bitch… he’s Satan, I told it.
I straighten up as fast as I can, I can only hope he didn’t see my backside or my nipples or… why can’t I die here and now without more suffering?
As far as I can see him without my spectacles, he’s leaning against the sink and checking me out with folded arms.
“Taking away my glasses? That’s the most creative idea you could find out? Seriously, where are we, in third grade maybe?” I attack him but in the meantime I realize I should calm down, seeing me being upset is probably his favorite entertainment. “Okay, Gossard, go ahead. I don’t know why you crafted this vicious plan with trapping me here, taking away my glasses, stalking me… let’s get over with it, whatever you want…” I shrug resigned.
“Firstly, I didn’t know you were here, I just came in since I have the right to have a shower too. Secondly, I have nothing to say to you, it is you who should talk.”
“Me? Do you think I want to have a chit-chat with you here and now? Are you completely nuts? Just give back my glasses and get out of here!”
“Well, that has a price.” he answers irritatingly slowly, I can hear clearly he’s grinning.
“Is this a blackmail?” I scream outraged.
“Why do you have to use always such tough words? It’s a… mutually beneficial offer. You want your glasses whereas you also owe me an apology and I’m ready to accept it.” he explains with fake generosity.
“I’m not gonna beg you, you idiot.” I hiss between my teeth and grab towards his hands but I’m not fast enough to catch him off guard. He raises his arm high before I could get my property back and smiles down at me with a smug expression.
Does he want me to bounce like a puppy? Well, I won’t. Actually, the only possible weapon that comes to mind is as childish as his stupid little trick but the end justifies the means… But I have to be quick since my one hand is busy with keeping the towel around my body and I don’t want to grope him for too long time either. But he didn’t leave me any other choice, unfortunately.
“Fine, Stoney…” I pretend giving in. “You’re right. So listen to me carefully because you’re not going to hear this from me too often…”
“I’m all ears.” he spreads out his free arm.
Piece of cake.
“Sooo…” I approach him cautiously “Stoney, I just want to say… TICKLE ATTACK!!!” I yell and poke my fingers between his ribs.
The effect is beyond expression. He immediately doubles over letting out a wide range of animal sounds and it only takes a few seconds to tear out my spectacles of his hand maintaining the offensive with my other hand.
“Ha, victory!”I yell chuckling at his convulsion but as I hear a weird noise over his whining, I immediately stiffen. “What was that?”
“What’s… what?” he asks still groaning.
“Didn’t you hear that? I think someone slammed the door…” I stutter as I place my glasses on my nose. “And that means someone had opened it before… and maybe saw us…”
“Bullshit. And even if it happened as you think, all that could be seen was you committing sexual harassment on me so…” he smirks sassily leaning back against the sink.
What an obnoxious asshole. And he’s also wearing flip-flops, which I’ve always hated on men, seriously, I could slap him with them…
“Sexual harassment? I would rather jump on a male tapir than engaging into an erotic intermezzo with you!” I tuck my hair nervously behind my ear.
“You and a tapir? I wish I could see the offsprings…” he keeps grinning and flips his wet hair back… actually, it’s surprising, usually, he’s not a big hair washer. A tiny waterdrop is swinging on the end of one of the dark strands that are wavier than usual, this must be their natural state… then the drop slowly falls on his shoulder and follows the line of his collarbone, changing direction at his neck only to gain momentum and now it’s pulling a trail along his flat stomach and…
“Ahem…” he clears his throat “shall we go? Or do you want to examine my naked body for a while?”
“Let’s go” I start like I was waking up from a dream and I can feel my cheeks are burning for some mysterious reasons. “But you go first, I don’t want to make myself ridiculous in front of more people tonight.”
“Okay, okay…” he walks out with lazy reluctance. “All clear!” he shouts and I put my head out of the door to check he’s not trying to trick me again. How can he walk so leisurely, isn’t he bothered by the fact he’s almost naked? And why did he wrap that towel so tightly around his waist that it shows every curve of his…body parts…?
“Do you want to spend the night in there?” he suddenly turns back and I can only hope I managed to look away fast enough.
“No… no…I’m coming…” I mutter and follow him in duck walk, squeezing my toiletry bag.
He stops at his door and leans with one shoulder against the door jamb, of course he wouldn’t miss out my clumsy performance.
“Wow, gracious. You were born to the catwalk.” he giggles.
“Shut up or I scratch your eyes out!”
“Okay-okay but I hope we can agree that we’re even.” he waves an imaginary white flag.
“We are. And I say now good night before you happened to die under unclear circumstances.”
“Good night, Miss Hundred Pounds of Concentrated aggression.”
His audacious grin mellows into a boyish smile and I don’t know if I am only hallucinating or for a fragment of a second, he scans me from head to toe…
He pushes himself away from the wall and disappears in the dark room, leaving me frozen in the hallway. I stumble back to my room and I plop down on my bed. But what was that stare? He was probably just mocking me as usual, he’s surrounded by beautiful girls and he must find my dwarf body structure ridiculous. But he said we’re even… I stare at the toiletry bag on my lap, although I didn’t turn on the light, its pattern is clearly visible in the street lights filtering through the torn curtain. Musical notes, treble keys… wait. He claimed he didn’t know it was me in the shower. But who else in the bunch would have a bag with these motifs? He knew it was me. He knew it and he still came in. He wanted to humiliate me, it wasn’t just an embarrassing coincidence. Stone Gossard, we’re everything but even.
***
„These piggies are so cute.”
“Yes, they are totally adorable.” Layne agrees observing them with a tender smile. “Look at their mom, how patiently she’s bearing as they’re pestering her… geez, some of these little fuckers are pretty aggressive… look at that one!”
He points at a spotted piglet which is the greediest in the bunch; I don’t know much about domestic animals, I can only guess he’s a tiny boar. He’s tossing away all his siblings to get free access to his mther’s teats and even after he gets one of them, he keeps her poking with his power outlet-shaped nose. Well, moms are the most patient creatures on earth, I’m sure I’ve caused a lot of trouble to mine too…
“I wonder if we can stroke them, their hair seems to be so fluffy…”
“A bit later, now it’s mealtime. Their mother is very protective of them, she would bite your fingers off… I think she’s going to pass out in a few minutes, you can try to grab one of them while they’ll be playing around her.” the farmer-looking guy answers. He can’t be much older than us but he speaks in a slow, prudent manner, which makes him sound like a grandfather. He must be an employee of this place… whatever this place is…
“Effie would love them.” Layne remarks, still fascinated by the nursing process.
Effie? Layne knows Effie? Interesting.
“Is she here too?” I stutter confused.
“Of course, dude, you bought her here, remember?” Layne glances at me and raises one eyebrow.
“Really? And where is she know?” I scratch my chin still not understanding how she got in the picture.
“She stayed in the house. She was interested in the greenhouse and the gardener happened to be there, you couldn’t drag her away from the orchids. Seriously, Mike, are you stoned our what? You should take more care of your girlfriend if you want to take this thing between you seriously.”
Girlfriend? Effie is my girlfriend? Okay, that sounds strange too not that I want to complain…
“And… what’s that house you mentioned?”
“Shit… I’m not gonna help you out with weed ever again, this stuff has obviously terrible side effects on you, you’re like a drunk goldfish. Hey, Jer, tell to this asshole where we are!” he shouts at his approaching bandmate.
“Estamos a la hacienda Cantrell, hombre! This my ranch! And in a few hours, we’ll be eating the best food you’ve ever tried, Consuela is the most badass cook in the entire world! But we have the whole afternoon, I want to show you my new golf course, we could even play, I have tons of golf clubs, I can lend you one of them…”
Wait, something’s wrong here. I know they have their share of success because of this Seattle madness too, not that they don’t deserve it, they are a fuckin’ amazing band but I never knew Jerry had a ranch, I mean, it must have cost a buttload of money and however much I like him, I must admit he’s not that type who prefers savings to poker, dope and strippers.
“How… how long have you owned this… this huge farm?” I wave around clumsily trying not to sound too stupid.
“For like… ages…? Hahaha, man, I know my beautiful maids drive every man crazy, that was my point when casting them and choosing their uniform. But you can’t complain either, I checked the little blondie out, nice catch! That cola bottle-shaped body, damn…” the skirt-chaser underlines his words by drawing the mentioned contour in the air flashing a filthy grin. I don’t like this tone, I don’t like the idea of Jerry talking about Effie or looking at her, fuck, I don’t even like the idea of any member of Alice In Chains staying in the same state as her for more than three seconds.
“But first, we have to choose the dinner. Which one do you want?” the guitarist nods towards the pigpen and knowing his dirty humor, I’m not sure whether he refers to any food-related or he’s called hookers or what?
“How… how do you mean?”
“Mike, this is definitely not your day, just pick one!” Layne giggles glancing amused at his bandmate.
“But… what?” I still don’t get where this whole thing is going.
“Geez man, okay, I”ll do it for you. Come on, little dudes, it won’t hurt, I promise you!” Jerry leans over the fence and grabs two piglets by the skin around their neck.
“No, no, are you trying to say we’re gonna eat them? No, never, this is the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard, you can’t…” I protest shocked but the asshole doesn’t give a shit about me and carries the two victims under his arms to the pickup standing close to us. He ignores the desperate squeals of the poor little things: he throws them in the truck bed and climbs after them.
“Jerry, where are you going? You can’t… stop, don’t do that, man!” I yell almost crying but he just keeps laughing with that typical, pedophile Santa Claus laughter of him.
“What do you think, for what purpose do I breed them? They are cute and all but just think about a crispy, red, roasted pig spinning on a skewer over the fire… yummy… Consuela has a secret recipe, it’s delicious. I takes hours to prepare it, though, but I think I can keep myself busy until then, you know, that blondie is waiting only for me…” he winks and I catch to my stomach. Effie… Jerry… no, that can’t happen, I think I’m going to vomit, Jesus, this is terrible…
He pats the side of the truck bed twice, signaling to the driver that he can start the engine.
“Yes dude, until the pork gets ready, I’m gonna bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”
His words get mixed with the squealing of the piglets and the roar of the engine and the terrible sounds keep echoing in my head distorted by the Doppler-effect until the car disappears on the horizon.
“Bang Effie… bang Effie… bang Effie…”
I wake up with a start. My heart is beating so fast that it almost rips my chest, the blanket is soaking wet of my sweat, even my hair is stuck to my head and neck. This was the worst nightmare I’ve had in the past years… wait… if it was a dream, why can I still hear the snorts?
I slowly turn my head in the direction of the sound and suddenly, everything falls into place. The girl with whom I spent last night is snoring next to me… Her red lipstick and black eyeshadow is smeared all over her face making her look like a slutty panda bear and the little stream of drool in the corner of her mouth makes it even worse. Thus passes worldly glory… not that I have any right to criticize her look, I must look like crap too and honestly, I also feel like that. My head is about to explode, my intestines are burning… but I can only blame myself and that bottle of pure vodka we consumed last night together. At least the sex was satisfactory... yes, satisfactory is the best term, not more, not less. The beginning was creepy, though, with those weird outbursts of her about her nonsense prohibitions… I mean, who the hell wants to do stuff like that? Poor girl, she must have had hard sexual experiences. But that cowboy roleplay could have been even good with the hat and slight bondage elements and all… but her exaggerated behavior kept it in conditional. After all, we both got what we wanted and I don’t have to feel guilty. I didn’t force her, she offered, I just played along… it was basically her who fucked me. I don’t know if it had anything to do with me being the guitarist of Pearl Jam but even if it has, come on, is that really such a terrible crime if the “also ran” member of the band takes advantage of his situation once in a blue moon? The girls are never cueing in front of my hotel door, I deserve to have blast when a rare occasion occurs for some mysterious reason. And I don’t owe anyone any explanation, the guys and Eric are not my chaperones, I’m a single guy with needs and I can’t live in a fantasy world for good, pathetically sobbing after someone I haven’t even met yet, right?
Hydration. That’s the first thing I need right now. The only problem is that she’s sleeping with her limbs spread in four different direction and her left arm happens to rest on my chest. Shit, I wish I had left after we finished it as I always do after one-night stands, it spares both the girl and me awkward morning scenes, these things are not about romance, anyway. But this time the sex was intense and the booze was kick-ass so we both must have passed out after getting on top.
I try to slide out of the bed basically in horizontal position placing the pillow on the same spot where my upper body used to be hoping she’s sleeping deeply enough not to notice the change. I freeze when she lets out a few louder snorts after my maneuver but after a few satisfied smacks, she calms down and keeps snoring. I tiptoe around the bed to collect my clothes and I found all of them except my boxers… fuck, she must be lying on them. After a few seconds of hesitation I get dressed without them, they’re clean since I didn’t have any “accident” yesterday so trying to get them back is not worth risking.
I silently walk out in the kitchen and immediately spot a few bottles of mineral water on the counter… but taking one of them would be stealing, right? But if I turned the water on, she might wake up… I open all of the cupboards until I find a larger glass and turn the water tap cautiously until a thin spout starts running from the pipe. It takes a while until I fill the glass with this method but I gulp the content of it with one breathe in a blink of an eye.
My rumbling stomach directs me to the fridge, even if I don’t want to take anything, I can check its content, right? The cool breeze feels unbelievably good as I lean into it… let me see… further bottles of water, some milk, a piece of moldy cheese which probably isn’t supposed to be moldy, expired yogurt and a bunch of bananas. Shit, banana is my favorite fruit, the best resource of potassium and I’m dying to eat one. But I decided not to steal anything… but come on, it’s only a banana.
As I’m about to leave the crime scene, I notice a notepad and a pencil on the table. Maybe… maybe leaving a note would be a polite way of giving an explanation for what I did, right? Yeah, that’s it! Okay… “Dear…” Fuck, what was her name? Clarissa… Claudette… CLAUDIA! “Dear Claudia,” Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought… should I thank her for the sex? “thanks for the evening. I didn’t want to wake you up so…” so I ran away like a coward “I decided to say bye in this note. I was really hungry so I served myself with a banana.” and last night I served you my banana, Jesus, I’m a gross pig. “Sorry for doing it without asking, as an apology, I drew you another one.” I try to sketch the schematic picture of a banana but it looks like a nonfigurative or even phallic symbol from any possible angle. Shit, I can’t leave it like this. Luckily, the pencil has a quality eraser on the top so I can make the terrible scribble disappear and correct the message. “I drew you the only thing I can draw:” I close my eyes to recall the logo I’ve copied everywhere more times than anything else… “KISS” at least I can still do it… I go over the message again, I think it’ll do the trick. “I wish you the best, Mike”. I stop in the kitchen door on my way out. Even a KISS logo can’t undo a theft. I should offer her some compensation… I walk back and grab the pencil again. “Ps. Next time we come to Charlotte, I’ll invite you for a coffee.” But what if we bump into each other anywhere else? “Of course I also invite you in case we encounter anywhere else.” Okay, ‘Cready, you don’t have to write an epistle, you don’t have to surpass Tatiana, just leave finally before she wakes up. But what if… what if she doesn’t like coffee? Now that I glance around, I can see no coffee machine here… “Ps2. In case you don’t like coffee, my offer applies to tea or soda too, of course.”
Okay, enough, she won’t even notice, who the hell takes inventory about bananas? I shake my head, take a deep breath and sneak out of the apartment.
***
Coffee. The first thing that comes to mind in the morning. I know I drink way too much coffee but caffeine addiction is sort of an inevitable outcome if you’re a rock musician at nights and an espresso guy at daytime. Of course the receptionist or janitor or whoever confirmed my initial aiming: this shitty motel doesn’t sell any food or drinks apart from the broken vending machine in the corner of the lobby. He also said I can take all of its content if I manage to fix it. No, thanks, the late seventies-looking chips bags with their probably fossilized content aren’t particularly tempting.
I’m heading to the bistro on the other side of the street, it’s probably not much better than that place but a coffee without hair in it and a decent breakfast would already satisfy my needs. On entering I must admit, the smells are better than expected and as soon as I take place in a booth, a polite waitress appears at the table handing me a menu and producing a cup out of the blue. She immediately fills it with the hot beverage I was longing for. A cigarette would feel good with it too but there’s no one around I could grub from…
I’ve taken only a few sips of my precious drink when I see a familiar hat appearing at the entrance and in a few seconds, its owner plops down opposite me, munching a banana.
“The prodigal son has returned, huh?” I remark with a wide grin.
“I know you missed me, just admit it.” he answers with a deadpan. “God, I’m starving…” he grabs the menu and begins to study it.
“A coffee, sir?” the waitress emerges again and spills coffee in his cup too without waiting for the answer. “What can I get for you?” she inquires helpfully as she pulls a small notebook with a pen out of the pocket of her apron.
“One Aspirin and a bullet in my head, please.” Mike groans with a dark face.
“Excuse me sir?”
“Give us a few more minutes, please.” I try to send a “don’t ask” signal with my eyes and it seems to work because she leaves with a confused nod.
“The last time I saw you, you felt sick. But somehow you must have resurrected like a phoenix from its ashes since you were out all night… so… go ahead.” I lean back but my bandmate is avoiding my gaze, turning his head around like he was distracted by the interesting furniture of the diner.
“Look, it’s Judy over there!” he shouts pointing at the counter.
“Mike… no… please…” I groan in pain but it’s too late.
“Hey Jude!” he shouts and waves frantically.
Great… I bury my face into my palms.
Unfortunately, Mike comes to the brilliant idea of stretching his leg along the seat he’s sitting on while she’s approaching us; so by the time she gets to our booth, her only option is sitting down next to me. Which she isn’t willing to do, she’s just sending reproving looks at me until I realize the reason of her reluctance is my right arm on the backrest. When I remove it, she slides in the booth as far from me as possible, she’s probably sitting with half butt on the air.
“Hi Judy.” Mike greets her pulling his small metal flask out of the inner pocket of his jacket.
“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.” she tries to tear it out of his hand without even greeting us.
“Easy Jude, it’s empty, okay? It’s just a bad habit that I keep checking it.”
“Anyway, I doubt he would begin the day with spirits, seeing he was drinking the whole night…”
“What?” she screams outraged.
“Jesus, are you blind? He’s, like, the quintessence of hangover, circles under the eyes, grey face, he looks like a dirty dish cloth…”
“Jesus, guys, do you really have to talk so loud??? Anyway, thanks Stone, you know how to compliment…” Mike moans rubbing his forehead with his hand.
“I’m just telling the truth. Come on, tell us how did you get so fucked up… or… no… I don’t want to know the details.”
“You probably think I got wasted with a few local dudes I don’t even know and I fell asleep in the corner and when I woke up, I realized someone had drawn a dick on my cheek.”
“You left out the pissing-and-puking part but yeah, sort of. Ouch!” I whine when she tosses me with a strict face at full strength in the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, do you think he’s a saint or what?” I complain.
“Don’t even listen to him, unlike him, I’m interested in the details. So tell me… were there pubic hair on the dick too?” she leans closer confidentially, flashing a cheeky smile and however much annoying I find her, I can’t help snorting.
“Jesus, six of one, half a dozen of the other.” Mike rolls his eyes. “Anywayyy… I wasn’t with some unknown dudes… but I wasn’t alone either…” he shrugs with a mysterious smile.
“Okay, you’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final. I don’t want you to get sued by teen moms from every single town we stop in.” I shake my head.
“Not that I’m the Casanova of the band, are we going to talk about the favors you’ve done to Seattle’s female population too? Do you begrudge me it or what?”
“I’ve had a long string of girlfriends, so what?”
“What?” our band parrot squeaks in again.
“A long string? There’s a herd of them!” Mike goes on.
“Just stop!” she screams and we both fall silent, surprised by her sudden outburst. “I’m new here. Explain.” she adds in a mellower voice.
“Judith, maybe you should improve your “reading between the lines” skills. My colleague is trying to say that he spent the night with a female acquaintance, I guess we can call her like that with some euphemism. And I recommended some fertility restrictions regarding Mike’s wasted adventures are like the cliché bad examples in sexual education videos.”
“As if you…” my bandmate is about to reply but he gets interrupted by the returning lovely waitress, and honestly, I don’t mind, somehow I don’t want him to reveal my dating history before the girl who never misses any occasion to point out my flaws.
“Did you manage to choose in the meantime?” she inquires.
“I’d like to have… scrambled eggs with ham and a sesame seed bun, fresh orange juice, pancakes with maple syrup, a peanut butter sandwich and chocolate chips with vanilla ice.” Mike reads enthusiastically.
“A sunny-side up with bacon and a cherry pie á la RR.” my neighbor lists.
“A vegetarian cheese plate and I’d like to try that deliciously sounding pie too.” I smile at the waitress.
“It’s even better than you think, Sir.” she winks back at me and as I watch her collecting the menus, I can see Camden’s disgusted face from the corner of my eye.
“Sooo… a Twin Peaks fan, huh?” I nudge her. “From now on, I’m gonna call you Nadine, it suits you in every sense.”
“Nice try, Bob… Anyway, Mike, if this is your hangover appetite, what is your normal state like? I got nausea even of listening to you…”
“I burned a lot of calories last night so…” he grins proudly, making me cackle up.
“Here we are, I want details!” I imitate a drum snare with my palms on the table.
“Jesus, guys, are you really going to disc…” Miss Prudery clucks in but luckily, my bandmate ignores her whining.
“It was… wild.” he smirks firmly.
“Wilder than that escort girl in L.A.?” I giggle since this is one of my favorite stories with which I tease Mike from time to time and it’s also a great topic to outrage this first communicant next to me.
“What? Mike? You’ve paid for sex???” Bingo.
“How many times I have to tell that…” Mike pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers with a nervous gasp. “Judy, it wasn’t the way you think… when I was living in L.A. with the Friel brothers, I met a nice waitress at a concert venue… we sort of hooked up, she’d visit me at the record store I’d work at… she was busted all the time so I’d lend her my spare money, I mean what I didn’t spend on booking gigs for us… and Chris Friel tried to warn me gently that every time I’d give her money, we’d sex afterwards… and once we ended up in a strip club after a gig and I found out she was a stripper, she worked there, I mean, she was dropping her clothes right in front of me… and she wasn’t only stripping. So I realized that what I thought to be a friends with benefits situation was actually a prostitute-client relationship, she was just too good-hearted to enlighten me. Stone, are you happy now???”
“Awww, Mike, this is so sad… but it’s also somehow so sweet… I hope you got a discount at least. But what’s with that girl from last night? What’s her name?”
“Someone has suddenly become curious, interesting…” I throw in.
“Errrr… her name was…”
“Jesus, Camden, you know nothing about one-night-stands, don’t you?” I ask to buy Mike some time but to be honest, I don’t know what to think seeing the industrial amount of condoms I found in her toiletry bag last night. Either is she a wild cat and a really god actress at the same time or this tour is like a project for her to get rid of her virginity. Ten times at least. And Jeff Ament has the honor to assist. Jesus.
“Why, I only asked…”
“He doesn’t know shit about her, let alone her name.”
“You banged…” she yells but realizing everyone looks at us, she suddenly takes the volume back “You had sex with her and you didn’t even ask her name?” she whispers between her teeth.
“Why? Names are overrated. Anyway, she introduced herself, I just… can’t remember her name anymore. And she didn’t even care about my name either.”
“Judith, I understand this is new to you, you probably insist on swapping business cards before petting and ask the guy even to show his ID before the penetration but in most cases, these things are going in a simpler way…” I use the occasion to torture her a bit and she starts reddening so much that I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
“Hey Stoney, don’t mock her! Jude, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious. I mean, the social security number can even be useful in case your partner suffers a sex injury.” he tries to help her out clumsily and glances at me for reassurance.
“Yeah, let alone the blood type in case he needs a transfusion after the experience.” I scoff.
“Could we go back to Mike’s experience?” she squints towards me with popped eyes making a nervous gesture. “I hope you had protection…”
“Jesus, of course, she was prepared…”
“She??? Mike, how can you be so irresponsible, it’s always the guy’s task, I would never ever… go out with a guy who expects me to provide him with condoms, Jesus…”
Ha. The little liar…
“Are we seriously analyzing these details? I mean, how was the chick?” I exclaim, earning one more toss arriving from my right side.
“She was… nice. I mean, she had that crazy vibe… It was weird, everything was okay until we left to her place, we drank, we played pool, she started flirting, I reciprocated it and so on… At one point, she threw herself on me, by the time I realized what’s happening, she was basically already licking my tonsils… not that I minded. So she dragged me to her place.”
“That doesn’t sound that bad…” I grin.
“Something tells me there was a “but” in the story…” the queen of condoms reacts ignoring my remark.
“Well yeah… she disappeared in the kitchen to bring more booze, so I turned on the TV, I thought some decent erotic channel wouldn’t hurt in the process but I stopped at a documentary, it was filmed in Kenya, I think, with beautiful shots and interesting narrations… she came back at the part on mating lions, she asked me if liked it, I found her question odd but I answered “of course” and she got completely hysterical.”
“How… how do you mean?” she asks fidgeting anxiously with her coffee mug.
“She… she freaked out saying she couldn’t believe I’m into that too. It so strange, out of context, I guess it was probably some dark secret with his ex, so I didn’t ask.”
What a coincidence!
“Interesting, the same…” I reply but a nervous little hand beats me in the thigh under the table. What the hell is she doing?
“Go… go on Mike, and what happened after that?” she inquires with a forced smile.
“I managed to calm her down, switched to Playboy channel, and you know… we begin to get  into the thing on the couch… but my stomach started rumbling, I was starving since I hadn’t eaten the whole day. So I asked her if I could grab some food before we… you know… and she almost begin to cry, explaining she never mixes food into sex, it was so incoherent, I couldn’t even understand what’s happening…” he recalls causing me a lightbulb moment.
“Jesus Mike, I know why she acted like that…” I exclaim chuckling since it I know this is more than a simple coincidence, his story has too much in common with my conversation with Claudia. Actually, now that it’s not about me, it actually sounds funny. Hilariously funny, I can’t stop shaking of repressed laughter… But those restless fingers pinch me in the thigh this time and when I turn right to challenge her, all I can see are two, huge, warm, brown eyes, begging me concerned… and suddenly I realize what they are trying to say.
“And why?” Mike asks back. Okay, I have to find out something, and I have to do it fast, think…
“Because… because… she chickened out!”
“Yes, that must have been the reason.” she agrees as quickly as possible. Okay, crisis averted.
“She didn’t.” Mike smirks. “She finally allowed me to grab some snacks and then… mature content.” he illustrates with fitting hand moves the events. “Okay, she turned out to be into rodeo roleplay, which was new to me but… after all, it was fun.” he shrugs not too convincingly.
“Was she wearing boots with spurs?”
“Damn, Camden, you always grasp the most important details…”
“She wasn’t… but she had a hat made bondage stuff to me but it was fine.”
Our meals arrive in the meantime but somehow the consumption of my vegan cheese plate seems to be incompatible with the picture of the naked Mike tied to a bed and ridden by Claudia only wearing a cowboy hat.
“A lot of people are into it but of course, there are different levels.” our troublemaker plays the expert with her mouth full.
“It was the enjoyable level bondage. Anyway, she had one more outburst, when we were finished.” he tells stuffing a considerable pile of scrambled egg into his mouth. “After the action, she went out to the bathroom but she threatened to slit my throat if I’d follow her. Like, why would I do that?”
I snort but I manage to fake a cough fast enough not to be noticed by Mike and abused by the travel-size Terminator.
“I don’t know, shower sex?” she shrugs casually munching too. Like she knows.
“Yeah, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Whatever. Anyway, guys, how was your night?”
“Terrible.”
“Awful.” we answer at once.
“Why, was it because of the motel or…?”
“I had nightmares… I mean, during that one single hour I slept. I didn’t really dare fall asleep because of the cockroaches… and I kept dreaming about them.” she begins to play with the food pushing it around on the plate.
“Stone, you had nightmares too?”
“Oh, no… although I had every reason to do so. I don’t know, the bed was uncomfortable.”
There’s an awkward silence. Mike devotes all his attention to his food and honestly, probably neither of us minds that he stops asking about last night. Anyway, as for the Claudia thing, she was right. He was proud of his conquest, facing him with the fact he was only a backup target would have totally ruined his confidence. I have to warn Scully too, he’s such a gossip. And Ed would certainly disapprove it but come on, Mike just wants to enjoy being the member of a rock band. He doesn’t fuck girls in every bush we pass by, I don’t think he should be executed for it. Jeff isn’t better either, drooling over you colleague, how immature and irresponsible…
“Hi Jeff!”
Speak of the devil. Anyway, why is she so suddenly so enthusiastic of seeing him?
“Hi guys. Wow, that looks good.” our bassist leans over to check my plate while Mike pulls his leg back to leave him space. Of course he couldn’t do that a few minutes earlier, so typical.
“If you ask me, it tastes better without Mike’s bizarre sex adventures but it’s a matter of taste.”
“Bizarre sex adventures? Something tells me I have to catch up.” he laughs. “How are you, Judy? You disappeared tomorrow so early.”
“Thanks, I’m fine, I was just…tired. Look, Jeff, I was thinking… if you wanna hang out today before the show? I mean, you said you’d show me a few chords and…”
I can’t believe my ears. What made her change her mind? If Dave’s jealousy trick worked out, I have to re-evaluate my knowledge about dating.
“Sure.” Jeff’s face lights up. “Anytime.”
“Aaaanytime, Juuudy…” I mock. ”Just don’t forget to put some money in his G-string.” I add mumbling.
“Jesus, Stone, you’re gross!” Mike drops his fork annoyed.
“I’m the gross? Remember, Mike…” I’m ready to remind him of his various drunk performances but as the debate is about to get heated, Eric shows up in the diner followed by Ed and Beth.
“Guys, we have a problem…”
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if-found-return-to-gusu · 4 years ago
Text
Happy Birthday to Me Pt. 12
(Fuck. Last one)
He asked me if I was staying the night.
Of COURSE I was staying the night. Where on Earth would I want to be if not here with him? 
I told him as much. I reminded him that I’d promised not to distance myself from him again and warned him that this meant I was going to be completely insufferable from now on to make up for the lost time. 
“You will completely forget the concept of personal space,'' I warned. 
He grinned at me again. With teeth showing and everything. I’m pretty sure I heard a chorus of angels. 
I felt his fingers trace my hairline and down the side of my face.
“Okay,” he said, completely unperturbed by my warning.
He IS trying to kill me before I hit 30!!!!!! I knew it!
And then! He just went in and kissed the tip of my nose! Like it wasn’t anything! And he just let me go and stepped back again!!
I whined that he can’t just kiss and run like that! And he just reminded me to go upstairs to wait while he locked up. 
I grumbled about handsome men playing games with my poor fragile heart before I went up, stomping on the stairs to let my indignity be known. I grabbed my photo album as I went. 
Once I let myself into the apartments I figured the first order of business was to check on the bunnies to see how they held up after all the commotion from downstairs. 
Most of them were fast asleep in a pile of fluff, but Suibian perked up the moment she heard my voice and hopped sleepily over to me! I started to fuss over her and pet her, telling her how good she was. She closed her eyes and leaned into my scritches. 
Ooooh it’s so wonderful to have an animal that actually likes me! And she’s so cute! I won the jackpot! If I can only have one animal actually like me I’m so glad it was her. 
I heard quiet footsteps and turned to find Lan Zhan coming up next to me to look at Suibian as well. 
“Look!’ I said, excited, “Suiian has my sleeping hours!”
Trust my little girl to wait up for me when all her siblings were snoozing. 
Lan Zhan asked if I wanted to bring her into the other room but I decided that, as tempting as it was, it was probably better for her to sleep with the rest of the rabbits. 
I told Lan Zhan that it was her bed time, and he replied by noting that it wasn’t quite my bed time yet. (True as it was barely creeping on Midnight by then and I’m usually up at least until like 1am or so. )
I countered that it was DEFINITELY past HIS bed time. It’s kinda incredible that Mr. “In Bed By 9” was able to stay standing so long. 
And since my heart clearly hadn’t had enough yet today, I decided to pull him in close to me by the waist, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He seemed to jump a bit, but didn’t try to pull away. 
“I’m not tired,” he said.
Liar. 
In order to hopefully hide the sound of my heart trying to pound its way out through my ribcage, I gasped dramatically, “Lan Zhan? Not tired yet???” I asked with just as much drama as the gasp. “I’m astonished!!!”
I considered after that though and laughed. Perhaps I was a bit sleep drunk myself actually. “Though I must say,” I admitted after my giggling subsided. “After tonight there isn’t much that should surprise me about you anymore.”
To prove my point I sang a couple bars from “My heart will go on” under my breath. I laughed as he hid his face in his hands. I pulled those hands away and started to drag him into the livingroom with me. 
I asked him what other things he was hiding from me as we went. I didn't really expect him to answer but before we made it to the couch, he pulled me back with the hand that was still holding his. I stumbled rather clumsily into his arms, but he caught me all the same only to push me away and twirl me before pulling me back towards him. 
‘I once took dancing lessons for a semester in college. I wanted to learn something different but it didn’t work out.” he said. “Turns out I’m more suited to waltzes than I am for swing.”
And just like that he started to guide me in a waltz. 
I will say right now I have no idea how to waltz and all those movies that say ‘you just need to find yourself a partner who knows what they’re doing’ are all lying. It’s all bullshit. 
Lan Zhan somehow managed to slip his feet under my feet (?????) and guided me through the steps though. Once my brain caught up with the rest of me I hurriedly got OFF his feet before I did some damage and instead tried to concentrate on following his lead. 
But then I just couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. I put my head on his shoulder, not able to resist being closer to him now that I knew I could. I slid my hand out of his and guided it to join its partner around my middle instead, wanting to be held, and we swayed together. 
How long did we dance like that? Swaying softly to the song that only we could hear?
I dared to ask him what other surprises he could possibly have in store after this bombshell, but he assured me that for now, at least, this was it. 
I pouted up at him in my best impression of A-Ling and asked him how it was fair to my poor battered heart if this is how he gives me new information about him? It was really gonna be a problem because I still want to know every detail of his life. I want to know absolutely every piece of him. 
Each bit of his soul he’s given to me is a shining nugget. More precious than gold or diamonds. Something to be cherished. Just like him. 
“How can my heart take it?” I asked.
To which that son of a gun replied
“Your heart will go on.”
Oh youuuuuuuuuuuuu.
I couldn’t stop laughing after that. Especially once he joined in. If any of the bunnies were still awake they surely thought those humans in the other room were bonkers. 
We calmed down eventually, still swaying the whole time. Just staying together in each other’s arms in the dark livingroom. 
Eventually I had to admit defeat. This day, as wonderful as it was, had been very emotionally exhausting for me. I told Lan Zhan I was tired and ready for bed and he responded by swaying me in the direction of the hallway. Which of course set me off again. 
We swayed and spun all the way to the bedroom door where we, tragically, finally had to let go of each other so that he could get me something to sleep in. 
I took the clothes, but hesitated. It was after midnight. Surely my allowed greedy period was over right? But still. I had to ask one last thing. 
“Is it.. .okay if I sleep in your room with you tonight?” I asked, staring quite determinedly at the floor. 
Lan Zhan answered almost immediately, saying that yes. Yes he would like that very much. 
That got me to look up so I could grin at him. In the dark I hope he couldn’t see that I was about ready to start crying again. 
There’s nothing wrong with crying, really, but fuck I was tired of it at that point. 
Without any further ado, I scurried off into the guest room to change into the over-large pajamas as quickly as I could. Before I headed back to his room, though, I decided I was ready to take another look at that photo album. And maybe I didn’t need to be alone to do it after all. 
I held it close to my heart, trying to drink in all the love that had gone in to making it for me, and scurried back to where Lan Zhan was waiting for me, already in bed. 
I scooted closer to him and asked if it was okay if we went through the album together again. He kissed my forehead (where I probably should have washed of Shijie’s mark but I was entirely unwilling to do so. RIP Lan Zhan’s pillow. I didn’t think of that haha. )
“Anything you want,” he said. It sounded like a promise. A pledge. Almost like he was swearing an oath.
Really it was just my sleepy mind making things overly dramatic again. 
We went through them together, Lan Zhan letting me pick the pace. We talked about some of the pictures and he didn’t judge me when I cried a little again after all. 
When we got to the picture of him alone at his guqin, though, I paused. 
He’d done so much for me. I’d never be able to pay back this kindness. Not even if I managed to somehow gain immortality. Not even if I was able to try until the end of time. 
“Thank you for tonight,” I said, cringing at how inadequate that was. It didn’t even begin to cover it. 
He told me that there was no need for thanks. That he wanted to give me this. 
I didn’t know what else to do in response to that. I just leaned into him to nuzzle his neck. Told him he was the best. 
A true statement, but again, completely inadequate. 
He, in essence, replied with a “No U.’
And then. 
Hold on. I want to remember this as accurately as possible.
“I feel very happy when I’m with you. You make me laugh. You encourage me to discover new things. You show me how much bigger my world can be. And you make me feel safe through it all.”
Pretty sure my heart full stopped. 
When it lunged back into motion again it was all I could do to squeak out his name and hide my face in his chest (ad;jkfadjf;aldk;adjskf;adlsf;kjfalksdf; you could park a car on that thing fuck). 
I reminded him again to WARN me first! Jeebuz Crisps!!! And he said he’d try.
Jerk. 
We stayed like that for a while in a silence so comfortable I’m pretty sure I just fell asleep. I think I remember feeling Lan Zhan maneuvering us under the covers to sleep properly but that could just be my mind filling in the blanks because that’s how I woke up. 
I don’t remember much of what I dreamed, but I know each and every one of them had family. And In each and every dream, Lan Zhan was at my side. 
THEN I FUCKING WOKE UP TO THAT ASS HOLE HAVING A FEVER SO HOT IT BOILED ME OUT FROM UNDER THE FUCKING COVERS
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE LAN ZHAN STEALING MY COLD AND DOUBLING THE DOSE???????????????????????????????????????????????????????/
So it was my turn to play nursemaid to him except the main difference being that HE WAS ACTUALLY SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WTF WERE YOU HIDING BEING ILL THE ENTIRE NIGHT????????? GDI
I stayed with him as much as I could until he got better, though I had to help do my shift (AND HIS) at the cafe. 
In the end I”m the one that ended up cleaning up the last of the party.
Guess that’s fair. 
Once he started feeling better I surprised him with the chunk of cake I’d hidden. 
He looked at me with eyes that shined like A-Yuan’s when Shijie gave him his kiss. 
Apparently this asshat had only managed to get ONE BITE of cake the entire night! The one I fed him!
WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? I HAD CAKE THIS WHOLE TIME AND YOU ONLY GOT A BITE??????????????????????
WHY DIDN’T YOU EAT IT WHEN I WAS ON STAGE SINGING AND YOU JUST STOOD THERE HOLDING IT LIKE A DERP???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????/
Ah well. In the end he got to have his cake and eat it too. Haa. 
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flightsoffandom · 4 years ago
Text
Getting Off Scott-Free
Pairs: Scott Lang x Reader
Words: 1954
Summary: After a long day of work, you get home to find that Scott is hiding something from you.
Warnings: None that I can think of
Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. Writing for Scott was hella fun, he is a huge goof. I knew I would like it but didn’t think I would enjoy it this much.
I am wanting to challenge myself by using the same prompt with different fandoms and try to make it as unique as possible.
I found this writing prompt @witterprompts​ and went with it. The original prompt is below.
“Against my better judgment, I've decided to keep you around.”
    Dating Scott Lang was an interesting experience. He could be a dummy but in the best way possible. You met Scott when he came to your place of work, trying to apply for a job. The thing was Scott completely botched his interview because he was too busy trying to impress you. He made you laugh, and he was attractive. So when he got denied the job because of his silly behavior, you asked him out to make up for it. During that date, you both hit it off and continued seeing each other. Your life had become more eventful and fun since Scott had walked into it.  After dating him for a few months and getting to know Scott, you asked him to move in. He agreed. It may have seemed quick, but he was sweet. You’d also be lying if you said you weren’t motivated by the fact that Scott living with you put him one step closer to being able to see Cassie. You had grown to love Scott, so it was a win-win situation.
When Scott became Ant-Man, you didn’t know right away. However, it didn’t take long for Scott to tell you. He tried to hide it, but he was terrible about lying about this kind of thing to people he was close to. It was a shock that a goof like Scott had become a superhero, but he was doing good. Scott helped with that whole situation with Pym Tech, and he enjoyed it. So you were fine with it and helped keep his secret.
It had been a long day at work. You were tired and looking forward to going home and relaxing. You pulled into your driveway. Parking the car before grabbing your work bag and leaving the vehicle. As you walk up to the door, you pull out your keys. You unlock the door before stepping in. It was quiet for a second. As soon as you closed the door behind you, Scott practically skids down the hallway. He comes around the corner to greet you, “Hey there, today has been totally uneventful and completely boring.” Scott glance to the side. He was talking so fast it was suspicious.
    On top of that, now that you had a chance to get a good look at Scott, you could see what he was wearing. Scott had on a robe and looked disheveled, that wasn’t unusual. It was the fact that he had tried to cover up the clothes he usually wore under the Ant-Man suit with the robe. You make a face at him, “Sure it was…” You try to walk around him, only for Scott to start herding you into the kitchen. You cross your arms, “I want to go change my clothes.” Scott laughs and grabs your hand, dragging you into the kitchen. Scott starts talking again, “Why would you want to change? You look amazing in those clothes?” When you’re both standing in the kitchen, you try to question Scott. He interrupts you, “You must be starving, I know I am. Come on, let’s have dinner.” Scott smiles at you as he backs up, using his body to block the doorway. You huff, getting frustrated, “What are you doing?” Typically his odd behavior was cute. You didn’t mind messing around. But you were tired and at least wanted to get out of these clothes. Scott keeps glancing behind him, down the hall towards the bedroom. “Let’s make dinner together when was the last time we did that?” Scott pauses before looking back at you, “Why don’t we to that anymore?” You find yourself chuckling as you roll your eyes, “Cause the last meal we cooked together ended up ruined because we got distracted ‘fooling around.’ ” Scott makes an exaggerated ‘sexy’ face walking towards you. He wiggles his eyebrows at you as he talks, “Again I ask, Why don’t we do that anymore?” When Scott reaches you, his hands go right to your ass. He squeezes both handfuls of your ass, “Honk, Honk.”
    You try to keep a serious look on your face. It doesn't take long for you to easily crack a smile. Trying not to be distracted, you avoid looking at Scott’s face. As an extra measure, you cross your arms to help keep some distance between you and him. Scott, however, is persistent and starts giving you rabid kisses all over your face. You wiggle around as you begin to chuckle. Finally giving in you wrap your arms around Scott’s neck and give him a kiss on the lips. Scott gives your rear another squeeze, “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you have the hots for me.” You chuckle and tease, “You wish.” You kiss Scott again. When Scott starts kissing you back, you get an idea. You let yourself enjoying making out with Scott for a few minutes. Once you can’t stand the feeling of being in your work clothes any longer, you put your plan into motion. As you keep kissing Scott, you slowly rotate the two of you. Until your the one who has your back to the doorway. You break the kiss. Scott immediately starts pouting, “Hey…” You chuckle and back up a little. You wink at Scott, “Can you close your eyes while I get more comfortable?” A huge grin slides onto Scott’s face. He rapidly nods before closing his eyes.
    You didn’t know how long Scott would actually keep his eyes closed. So you quietly exited the kitchen. As you make your way down the hallway, you keep an eye out for whatever Scott was trying to hide from you. About halfway down the hall, you hear Scott in the kitchen, “Tricking me like that is against the Geneva Convention, you know.” You call back over your shoulder, “It is not.” You hear Scott coming up behind you as he talks, “Well, its at least illegal. Paxton will totally back me up on that.” You laugh reaching your bedroom door, “I’ll be sure to ask him the next time he and Maggie drop Cassie off.” Scott grabs your arm and tries to worm his way in between you and the bedroom door. You gently push him aside. Scott gives up, getting a guilty look on his face, “Don’t be mad, okay?” You give him a look as you grab your doorknob, “Why would I…” Before you could finish your question, you get your answer. The door immediately falls into your bedroom, revealing what Scott was trying to hide.
Your bedroom door was no longer attached to the wall. Parts of the door frame were still attached to the hinges of the door. As soon as you let go of the doorknob, the door falls on to the bedroom floor. That wasn’t the only thing. The bedroom wall right across from the entrance has a huge chunk of wall missing. This was the last thing you wanted to come home to. You were at a loss for words. You step over the broken door and try to see if anything else was broken. Luckily it seems just the door and hole in the wall were the only issues. It had been a long day. You were too tired to deal with this right now. Scott stays right outside the room, watching you. You turn to look to glare at him, not saying anything. Scott holds his hands up in surrender, “I can fix it” Scott looks at the hole in the wall, “Probably…” He gives you an unsure smile.  You just start heading into the bathroom, leaving a trail of dirty clothes behind you.
The shower gave you some time to relax. You cleaned yourself off. Then stayed under the water for a little while longer to let the hot water keep pelting you. When the water started to turn cold, you ended your shower. Wrapping a towel around your body, you stepped out of the shower. As you walked into the bedroom, you noticed your trail of dirty clothes was gone. Before you could think about that too much, you saw something else. There were chunks of the wall all over the floor, including wall dust covering everything nearby. Which would have included your bed, but the sheets were missing. You walk over to your dresser and start pulling out clothes. After changing into comfortable clothes, you go to look for Scott.
    You don’t have to look far. Scott is still standing right outside your door, looking like a sad puppy. You weren't exactly mad at him, more annoyed than anything. You sigh, “Where did you put our sheets?” Scott motions, “In the dyer, I wanted to try to get them washed before you got back home… I put your clothes in the washer too.” Scott gives you a small smile. He was trying so hard you couldn’t stay upset with him. You finally smile back at him. Scott perks up when he sees you are officially not mad at him. You look around at the damage, trying to figure out how to fix it. You look back up to Scott, “So what happened?” Scott chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, “Well, see… I was doing some practice runs in the Ant-Man suit and…” Scott shifts on his feet and avoids eye contact, “I may or may not have gotten distracted and ended up taking out the door when I sized up, and then I couldn’t slow down and took out the wall.” Scott smiles at you and shrugs, “But you got no real proof I did anything.” You start laughing, “Why did you need to practice here?” Scott thinks for a second, “Well… I like it here, and I need to stay on top of my game?” Scott says it more as a question than an answer. You shake your head as you chuckle, “Let’s set something up in the basement… So more of the walls don’t get broken.” You grab the door off the ground and drag it into the hallway.
    You sit down and start picking up the bigger pieces of the wall off the ground. Scott joins you. As he picks up a few pieces, he asks, “So… You’re not going to kick me out or anything?” You decide to tease him, “Well, I’ve been thinking…” You look up at Scott. Scott looks a bit worried. You wink at him to show him your teasing, “Against my better judgment, I've decided to keep you around.” Scott lets out a dramatic sigh of relief, “Thank goodness… I don't know if anyone else would tolerate me.” You laugh as you finish getting all the pieces of rubble into a pile, “Welp, I more than just tolerate you. I love you.” Scott stands up, bringing back a trash bag, “You love me.” Scott says it in a sing-song teasing tone. You roll your eyes, chuckling, “I know, how silly of me to love you.” Scott holds open the trash bag, “Might be a shock to you, but I love you too.” You start to put the wall chunks in the trash, “I would have never guessed.” You chuckle as you go back to cleaning up. Once all the rubble is in the garbage, you stand up, “We just need to get that hole patched before this weekend so Cassie can come over.” Scott nods looking at the hole in the wall, “Where to start?” You think for a second, looking over the damage. You look down at the dust-covered floor, “Think the ants could at least help us finish cleaning up?” Scott grins and runs to the closet, shouting over his shoulder. “As long as you don’t tell Pym.”
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shardminds · 5 years ago
Text
I picture your hands on me.
“First, I want you to drive us somewhere nice and quiet." "Then I want you to come back here and fuck my brains out.”
Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones Rating: E WC: 3.8K
Here’s some Captain Swan car sex for your troubles.
Also available on AO3
Emma Swan doesn’t get drunk. That’s what she tells herself, all the while giggling and stumbling from the toilet stall into the arms of an equally intoxicated and equally giddy Mary Margaret. In fairness, she hadn’t had the opportunity to get drunk in a while. Nights these days were, more often than not, filled with street patrols and paperwork. Being a cop had many perks but the night shifts were not one of them. 
She couldn’t wear this dress or these boots out on the job anyway. The black faux leather was tight, barely reaching her mid-thigh and the stiletto boots cut off just above the knee. Definitely not regulation uniform. 
Perps would most likely hand themselves over to her if she did wear this on patrol, though. That’s one way to boost her numbers.
When David had initially asked if she wanted to take his wife out for a drink, she thought he’d been joking… evidently not. He had to buckle down on one of his larger cases and it just happened to line up with Emma’s night off. He’d offered to pay her back in bear claws from Granny’s when they were next on duty together and that had sold her. Calories don’t count if someone else buys them for you, right? David had, however, forgotten to mention his wife’s wild side that rears it’s boisterous head whenever liquor is involved. 
Tequila is her drink of choice. No chaser. No salt and lime. Just straight up tequila. Emma hadn’t even downed her second by the time the petite brunette was polishing off her fifth with a belch that would’ve had Leeroy blushing. It all went downhill from there. 
Mary Margaret yanks her out of the restroom, getting a little handsy in the process, and drags them to the less crowded hallway. Emma didn’t even get the chance to wash her hands. She’s chattering on about something or other but Emma can’t focus. Her skin is softly buzzing, the whole world around her a pleasant hum.
Emma Swan doesn’t get drunk, but when she does, it feels fantastic.
Did she have hand sanitizer in her clutch? It seems like a pretty important thing that everyone should carry in case of emergency, right? Especially on those days when your partner’s wife drags you away from the restroom before you’ve been able to take care of your own personal hygiene. It’s not like she’d peed all over her hands or anything. It’s just better to be safe than sorry. A quick rifle through her purse proved fruitless but at least it helped her regain focus… right at the end of her friend’s story. If they weren’t friends before tonight, they definitely were now.
“-and that’s how David got the scar but if you tell him I told you he’ll be so mad, Emma! Soooo so mad!” 
“About what?” It escapes before she can stop it and Mary Margaret just laughs at her. 
“Exactly!” She squeals, wiping away tears of laughter Emma hadn’t noticed before throwing an arm around her friend’s waist and leaning into her side, guiding them to the bar. “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”
The bartender didn’t even ask what they were having. Simply winking in their direction before setting down two shots and a couple of fingers of rum. Mary Margaret pays with a flourish of David’s credit card, index finger pressed to her lips in a shhh gesture. 
Before she can even think of all the ways David is going to kill her, Emma’s phone chimes. She tries to fight back the smile that comes along with Killian’s name flashing up on her screen, but she lost that battle long ago. They’ve been dating for over a year and he still manages to make her heart involuntarily flutter with every text. No one else makes her heart soften as he does. It had taken time, patience and a whole lot of nudging from David and Ruby for them to even get together in the first place and yet, Emma, with her seemingly endless walls, and Killian, with a metric shitload of his own baggage, managed to make it work. 
She loves him. Wholly. It had taken her forever to admit it but, between his soft kisses and even gentler touches, she’d whispered it against his skin. More a sigh than a declaration, but a promise nonetheless. 
Killian: running late, my love
Killian: nodded off marking… again 
Killian: be there in 5, does MM need a lift? 
He’s so good to her. To all of them. He’d agreed to pick her up at midnight, making a joke about pumpkins as he’d kissed her goodbye earlier. It’s almost half-past now but she can’t bring herself to be mad. She loves him. Like really, really loves him. It’s scary and exciting and if it had been anyone else she’d have run away by now but it’s him and that makes it all okay. All the tension she didn’t know she was holding evaporates away upon reading his texts. She throws back her drink in one gulp and starts typing.
Emma: i love u.  i will ass
Emma: ask
Emma: fuck
Emma: love u
Killian: haha had one too many, swan?
Killian: i’ll bring you some water x
She didn’t always understand the x’s he sometimes added to the end of his texts. He’d explained it to her once but the patterns his fingers had been tracing across the soft skin of her belly had been a far more pressing focus at the time. 
“It’s meant to be a kiss, love. It’s a common courtesy back home.” He’d said, placing a kiss of his own to the furrow in her brow. The furrow only deepened, which made him smile.
“But… why?” She snuggled closer to his chest, the coarse hair there ticking at her bare skin. Post-coital conversations about British text etiquette were just one of the many reasons she’d agreed to move in with him.
Regardless of her level of understanding, the addition brings a warm flush to her cheeks.
Mary Margaret is still at the bar, no longer drinking (thank god) but, if the way her index finger is pressed menacingly against the chest of a man almost twice her size is anything to go by, Emma’s willing to bet she was about to get herself in even more trouble. 
Behind her, there’s a familiar exasperated sigh. 
“I think it’s quittin’ time for us, Ems.” David yawned, patting her shoulder as he did. He was still in his uniform which must have scared the shit out of the bouncers on his way in. She didn’t mean to laugh but the thought had her chuckling. His case mustn’t have gone very well. His smile is soft and small, not blinding like it usually is. She’s about to ask him about it when a scream rips out ahead of them.
“DAVID!”
The thump as Mary Margaret collides with her husband’s chest knocks the air straight out of him in a dull oof. Without thinking, Emma snaps a picture and hits send.
Emma: mm has a ride
Emma: i’ll take one if u r offering tho ;)
They’re both still laughing, breathless, in each other’s arms before Emma gets pulled into the mix. David thanks her for keeping an eye on his wife with a strong hug while Mary Margaret attaches to her side like a barnacle and thanks her with slurred speech for celebrating her promotion together.
Emma hadn’t even known they’d been celebrating. That’s tequila for you.
“I better get this one home. Thanks again, Ems.”  David smiles her way before looking down to his tiny and drunken spouse who had the widest grin she’d ever seen, pure adoration in her eyes. She happily grips the hand David offers her, still beaming as they walk.
Emma knows that look. She’s had that look before. 
Love drunk (and maybe a bit of real drunk).
“I’ll follow you out.” She adds, falling into step with their rhythm. “My ride will be here soon anyway.”
“I love Killian, Emma. He’s so sweet! And he bakes! David doesn’t bake.” The outburst is followed by a hiccup and a giggle and a scoff from her husband. 
“Gee, why don’t you marry him then?” There’s no malice in David’s comment at all, how could there be? These two have been together since the dawn of time, by Storybrooke standards, at least. Mary Margaret barks out a laugh, using the arm that isn’t intertwined with David’s to punch him softly in the ribs.
“I married you, Stupid. You can’t marry two people. You’re dumb.” 
The rest of the walk to the exit is in relative silence, only the occasional chirp from their drunkest disciple on the way down the stairs of The Rabbit Hole. The crisp autumn air that meets them outside knocks Emma back a little, she hadn’t expected it to be so cold and, in a lapse of better judgement, had not brought a jacket. It doesn’t matter though. She’d already seen the familiar black jeep before her phone buzzed in her hand.
Killian: i see you x
Bidding goodbye to her two companions, Emma finds herself skipping over to Killian’s truck. She can’t help herself. The thought of him sat there waiting for her in all his black leather jacket-y goodness spurs her forward. Maybe she can convince him out of it… maybe– Fuck. She’s drunk but she wants him. Needs him.
Climbing into the jeep and immediately going in for the kill, in hindsight, probably wasn’t one of her finest ideas. Especially considering the accidental punch to the boob it earnt her. The bottle of water he’d promised, falling to the centre console between them. Clearly he’d not anticipated the haste of her advance. 
It’s a good job he’s cute.
“I’m sorry, love!” He laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners and lips pulling into a toothy smile. “I didn’t expect you to come at me with such unbridled force.” 
“Hello to you too.” Grumbling, she tries to massage some of the pain in her chest away but the ache is already there. Not the ache she wanted either. Killian’s hand finds her jaw and, despite her initial attempt at stubborn reluctance, his fingertips have her melting into his kiss. He’s overly gentle, just a chaste press of his lips against hers in apology. 
“I’ll kiss it better once we’re home, Swan. Don’t you worry about that.”
Feeling them against her lips, his words light a fire deep in her. The slow burn she’s been tending since she left their apartment earlier now seems an all-consuming need. She kisses him again, harder and deeper, a calculated move on her part, knowing he’ll take the bait and follow suit. 
The growl it pulls from him is borderline feral and Emma can feel it shoot straight to her core. Fuck, he’s such a good kisser. Every slant of his mouth over hers, every slip of his tongue, has her breathless and needy, wanting to only ever be further consumed. He always knows exactly how she needs it with very little prompting, reading her body language better than she herself could, sliding his free hand up her bare thigh until it slipped beneath the hem of her dress.
She can’t wait, she wants him now. 
“Fuck going home.” She sighs, letting him pull away only slightly so they can lean their foreheads together, his hand still continuing its path beneath her skirt. 
“What do you mean, love?” He knows exactly what she means. He always does. The smirk in his voice coats his words like syrup, sickly sweet and so wonderful. 
Pushing him away is torture, but worth it to hear his reaction as Emma crawls into the backseat. Arse in the air as she squeezes between the front seats and into the back. The firm smack to her behind has her fumbling through the gap, catching her moan as she tries to get her bearings. She’s not ashamed of it. It’s well-known that she loves a good spanking. Red palm prints all over her ass and thighs the next day are the best kind of trophies. Ones she’s proud to wear for him and him only. She’s not even ashamed at how almost uncomfortably wet she is just from thinking about it, thinking about him thick and heavy inside her, encouragement coming in the form of firm slaps.
If he wants a tease, she’ll give him a tease.
Turning to face him, she slips into the middle seat. Shimmying her dark panties she’d chosen earlier that evening down her legs with minimal effort. Killian’s eyes follow the path they take and, when they come to settle at her ankles, she offers him the scrap of fabric with the heel of her boot.
He groans when his fingers come to contact with damp lace, the faint squish as he rolls the fabric between his thumb and index finger is almost too much. The way he reaches for her is pure instinct, she can tell how her actions are affecting him by the way his eyes are half-lidded and all traces of smiles and smirks from earlier are gone. She presses her boot to his shoulder, forcing him to keep his distance and trusting him to do so before removing it. The sharp point of her stiletto catches on his collarbone on its descent, causing him to hiss. 
“First, I want you to drive us somewhere nice and quiet.” Settling down further, her legs part, faux leather peeling back from her thighs as they do, until it’s plainly visible how much she wants this. Her unfathomable confidence is definitely dutch in its origin but she can’t help herself, warm flames of arousal threatening to take over. It’s delicious and agony all at once. “Then I want you to come back here and fuck my brains out.”
Seeing his eyes slip closed at her words sends a heady wave of something straight through her. Car Sex: 1, Killian: 0
“As you wish, Swan.” His voice is deep and raspy, so very clearly fucked and Emma loves it. She loves him. Every part of him. From the way his hair always looks like he’s just woken up, no matter what time of day it is or the way his shoulders tense as he turns away from her now to focus on the road ahead, pulling off from the street with white knuckles clutching the steering wheel. Most of all, she loves knowing that he’ll give her what she wants, over and over again, rough and hard.
To everyone else, Killian is well mannered and reserved. The mix of ex-naval captain, local history teacher and baked goods connoisseur tending to subconsciously command the respect of those in his presence. 
To Emma, he is so much more. He’s soft in ways she’d never had a partner to be before, so open and forthcoming with his adoration of her while still allowing her space to grow into the person she’s always wanted to be. He’s sarcastic to a fault but, then again, so is she. He’s so unapologetically passionate about the things he loves, which usually results in them binging TV shows together until the early hours of the morning on a school night and falling asleep tangled together on the couch.  
He’s everything she never knew she needed and he’s changed her for good.
Oh, and he’s also an incredibly good shag. His word, not hers. When he says it, it sounds filthy, whispered against her body in a way that brings her out in goosebumps every time. When she says it, it sounds… not like that. 
She can’t wait much longer, heat throbbing between her legs at the thought of him. She hadn’t even realised until the slow drag of her fingers through slick folds and across her clit caused a moan to erupt from her throat, that she’d been touching herself this whole time. 
Glancing up to the rearview mirror, she caught lust darkened eyes staring back.
Fuck.
Without thinking, she brings the fingers to her mouth. Salt and lust thick on her tongue. It’s a sharp sweet taste and Killian always waxes poetic about it; telling her how damn edible her cunt is, how he loves the taste she leaves on his tongue, how he loves making her taste herself from his lips. He’s always been able to make her fall to pieces. 
Daring to maintain eye contact, she sucks them between her lips.
He fucking moans at that. Deep. Guttural. Emma can feel it in her chest and, before she can even comprehend what’s going on, he pulls the jeep up to a halt. They’re parked somewhere she doesn’t recognise, tucked between two buildings shrouded in the dark, and she has no time to worry about anything else because Killian is out of the driver’s seat and crawling into the back through the passenger door. 
He had been wearing his leather jacket before and she absentmindedly wonders where it’s gone before her brain short circuits with the smash of his lips against hers. It’s wild and rushed and the weight of him crushing her into the seat below has whines slipping out between their kisses.
“That was dangerous.” He purrs, moving his mouth across her cheek, down to her jaw, her neck. Nipping where his teeth graze and sucking soft marks into her flesh. Looks like it’s high necked sweaters for the rest of the week. “What did I do to earn that delicious torture?”
Emma hums at his ministrations, warm buzz settling through her at his touch. Better, more electric than the subtle tingle of intoxication from earlier. This woke up every nerve in her body, slowly, bringing them alive and with wisps of an earth-shattering orgasm building deep down already. “The tit punch wasn’t totally appreciated if we’re being candid.”
“Candid’s not the word, love.” His lips leave her neck, leaning up to view his masterpiece and very clearly satisfied with the mess he’s made and his smirk pushes her over the edge. She reaches for his hips, fumbling around for the zipper on his jeans. He joins in, working together to free the erection she’d been hoping for. Killian was never one to disappoint her in that department. ���This is downright indecent.”
“Just shut up and fuck me.” 
She throws one booted leg around his hip pulls him closer until he nudges against her centre. 
There’s no preamble. No disclaimer. Sex for them is like coming home, a practised rhythm they’ve had down for what seems like aeons. As if they’d been destined for each other before they ever met. It’s perfect. Always is. He’s as thick and full as she’d been hoping, stretching her in the most delectable way and it drives her mad when he drags out slowly, angling himself in a way that has the head of his cock catching on that rough spot he usually finds only with his fingers. Clawing at his biceps as he fucks torturously slowly into her seems like the only option at this point. 
“Killia– fuck! Harder.” Is the only thing she can say. All other thoughts being variations of Fuck, Yes and Please.
He burrows his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and she can feel the smirk on his lips searing into her skin. The whimper has barely left her lips before it’s cut off with a moan as he hammers into her. While one hand holds himself up, the other shoves her dress up higher around her waist before snaking down across her stomach, through the smattering of hair at the apex of her thighs and further, finally coming to a halt just shy of her clit. 
She’s grateful Killian had been able to find somewhere secluded for them to undertake their activity because, had they been in the centre of Storybrooke, people in a three-block radius would definitely have been able to hear the scream that rips out of her with his touch, back arching off the seat as he teases her clit with his fingers.
“First, you’re going to come.” His voice is way calmer than it should be. Deep and ragged but calm all the same. Emma doubts she could even string a sentence together with the barrage of pleasure he’s putting her through. Not that she’s complaining. The look on his face as she flutters around him more than makes up for the fact that he’s still got full use of his speech, even if he is using it to spew filth. “Then, I want to fill you up– fuck, I’ve been thinking about this dress all night, Emma. Do you know what you do to me?”
How can she even respond to that? He continues to fuck her deeper, laving kisses across her collar bones. Adjusting the angle, the pressure, the speed to keep her always on her toes. Bringing her almost to the edge and then dragging her back. She wants to be mad about it but she can’t bring herself to feel anything other than pleasure coiling low in her belly. Killian knows her too well. He knows what she likes, how she wants to be fucked and how to take care of her after. He knows she hates being teased but he also knows that she comes so much harder when she’s had to work for it. 
As she said, he knows her too well.
“I’m close.” She sobs, arms thrown around his neck. Her call spurs him on, fucking into her faster and deeper while he strokes relentlessly at her clit with his thumb. It’s only a few seconds before a tsunami of an orgasm washes over her in full force, wave after wave of pleasure settling over as she’s fucked through it. Gentler now than before. She can’t hear anything over the rush of blood in her ears but she doesn’t miss the telltale grunts of her name as Killian follows shortly after with a few staccato pumps of his hips. True to his word, he comes deep inside her. The feeling of being so full warming her from the inside out. 
He collapses against her chest with a huff and she laughs, not able to resist running her hands through his hair. She loves him. From his grunty sex noises to the way he can’t seem to hold himself up once he’s spent. She loves all of him.
“Brainless yet, love?” He mumbles against his gifts from earlier. There’s a dull throb as he kisses one of the hickeys and Emma hums, wrapping him in her embrace. She doesn’t want to move, despite how awkwardly they’re tangled together and Killian growing soft inside her. If David catches them on his patrol in the morning, they’re screwed. Well, she is. He’d hold that over her for eternity. 
Pulling him tighter, she sighs. 
“Completely.” 
She’d have to ask Mary Margaret about that scar story again, for blackmail purposes.
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vicunaburger · 5 years ago
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Admittedly, I’m Hard to See
Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 3/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,594 Warnings: M for Language
Notes: AW MAN. HERE WE GO.
In Which There is a Sleepless Night
Lydia, in fact, did not ease Holidae into an introduction with Beetlejuice that afternoon. Nor did the subject come up during dinner.
Or after dinner.
...or at any point that day before the two women retreated to their respective sleeping areas for the night.
Not for a lack of reminders that the ghost so thoughtfully bestowed upon his best friend during every single lull in the women's conversation. He made grotesque faces behind Holidae's back in order to frustrate Lydia into compliance. Lydia did her damndest to ignore him, which was a precarious balancing act of keeping her expression neutral and stopping him from physically manipulating their surroundings.
Twice she had to stop random objects from being chucked across the room. She was mildly impressed at herself for catching them - sports were never her forte - but running all over the house after the ghost was exhausting. It was when he started picking at Holidae's sweater and flipping bits of her hair into her face that Lydia decided to bring out the heavy weaponry.
Whilst Holidae's attention was distracted for a moment, she quickly muttered Beetlejuice's name two-and-a-half times in a row.
All poltergeist-esque shenanigans ceased immediately, and Lydia could finally relax enough to try and get some sleep after such a long day of moving. Dejected, Beetlejuice resigned himself to following Holidae around like a strange, otherworldly dog. Lydia thought better of telling him to stop outright; knowing he could throw a fit and plunge the house into absolute madness.
With a final warning, Lydia closed to the door to her room, assuring the ghost the promise of tomorrow.
That wasn't soon enough.
Holidae shuffled through her new bedroom, unaware of being followed by the spectre, and flopped unceremoniously upon her bed with a sigh. She was glad for the day to finally be over; truth be told. Not that she didn't appreciate the fact Lydia offered the home stay in the first place, quite the opposite.
Since their graduation from college, the roommates had bounced from sofa to sofa while they tried to find a permanent home. It was difficult to pick a location to settle in for the time being as Lydia's art career tried to get off the ground. Finding inexpensive places to live while traveling around the country for art shows was proving to be the needle in a haystack. Landlords didn't really want to give discounts for absentee tenants.
It was sheer luck that Lydia's parents had decided to spend several months traveling around the world, leaving the house in the girls' care without a thought for monetary repayment.
Holidae rolled over on her back, staring up at the ceiling in a daze. A nagging voice in her head told her this whole situation was just too good, and that the other shoe was destined to drop down at any moment. Maybe it was her own anxieties that had made the day feel...off since their arrival. Lydia's behavior, the strange mood of the house... it could have been all in her own head.
Beetlejuice paced around the room as Holidae stared off into oblivion, occasionally stopping to see if she were doing anything entertaining. He hated being invisible again, especially since all the residents of the house were able to see and interact with him on the regular. And Lyds had expected him to last a whole night being bored because she didn't want to scare her breather friend or some shit?
Patience might have been a virtue, but it wasn't one of his.
He scratched the stubble of his beard thoughtfully, "If I were a breather... which, ehh, not trying that again; what would make me want to see me?"
Holidae sat up with a jolt, startling the ghost as he pondered over his next course of action. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she got up and padded over to the empty space he was currently occupying. Beetlejuice backed up out of reflex, unsure of how corporeal he may or may not have been to her at the time. The Handbook was a bit fuzzy on interactions with breathers who were more receptive to otherworldly influences; but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Besides, he was the one usually disregarding personal spaces, not having his space invaded so abruptly.
"Hey, short stack, a little warning next time would be nice." He reached out, one of his darkened fingertips prodding against Holidae's forehead.
Reflexively, Holidae swept her hand upward, thinking there was some sort of insect she couldn't see in the dim room lighting. Her hand hit something.
Something heavy.
With an undignified squeak, she stumbled backward, catching the corner of the bed with her ankle and landing square on her ass on the hardwood floor. Hissing in pain, she rolled over on her side, letting loose a litany of curses into the crook of her elbow to muffle the noise. Beetlejuice was torn between wanting to help her and wanting to laugh at the slapstick display. He probably should help her out a little, seeing as if she was hurt Lydia could come into the room he would get blamed, but he could always vanish and feign ignorance.
Nah, Lydia would blame him anyway.
"That's it... I've gone insane. It's the house!" Holidae moaned in defeat, curling up on the rug. "Okay, Lyddy, I've got the next idea for the art show. Just come here and take photos of the pathetic nutcase on the floor. What once was a human, now pile of barely held together nerve endings."
The ghost took out a business card from the right breast pocket of his jacket, shaking it clear of cobwebs before materializing a pen in his other hand. He crossed out a few things, scribbled down some additions, and sat down on the floor beside Holidae. With a little finesse, he flicked the card so that it would land within peripheral vision of the woman curled up like a roly-poly.
The minutes crawled by, but eventually, Holidae noticed the small card a few inches from her head. Gingerly sitting up, rubbing the base of her spine, she picked up the card; the yellowed paper embossed with dingy black ink.
"Betelgeuse, the Bio-Exorcist...say my name three times..." Holidae mumbled, flipping the card over. "Professional... matchmaker, psychoanalyst, and amateur massage therapist. What the hell is this?"
Beetlejuice's face split into a wide grin, his sharpened teeth glinting in the dim light of the room, "C'mon, follow instructions..."
Holidae looked around the floor just in case there was anything else that could explain the sudden appearance of the card, wincing as her bruised skin protested the movement. Could it have been an art project of Lydia's? Fake advertisements? Maybe she had been experimenting with graphic art in her off hours? If the card required speaking something aloud, it could have even been a foray into performance art. Weird stuff.
"Ugh," she made a noise of frustration, flipping the card around idly in her fingers. "This is dumb. I'm dumb. Why am I even thinking about this for long? It's just some stupid set of weird things... and... and random pieces of paper. Probably garbage."
Beetlejuice tugged at his hair in frustration, the hue reflecting streaks of deep red, "Just. Say the words. Very simple. Three times. That's it. It'll be a magical fucking experience."
Brow furrowed in dismay, Holidae stared at the card as though it would suddenly catch fire in her hand, "Beetlejuice..."
The ghost perked up, "Yesssss?"
"Beetlejuice..." she continued, a chill in the air making her shiver.
One. More. Time.
A deep breath filled her lungs, and she looked upwards toward the stationary ceiling fan, "...Beetlejuice?"
The familiar sensation of being pulled fully into the material plane - which felt like a weird pinching sensation he could never understand - washed over Beetlejuice as soon as the words left her lips. He could feel the living world, the warmth radiating off the breather in front of him; the general alive-ness of the atmosphere of the house. It was so different from the Neitherworld; so much more appealing compared to the drab, monotone world he had inhabited for countless eras.
Holidae could feel something shift in the air around the room, but it wasn't something she could pin down into a tangible sensation. The lightbulb flickered in her bedside lamp, the shadows crawling along the walls like serpents or a swarm of insects. A musty, heady smell like freshly tilled earth filled her nostrils; mixed with the acrid scent of smooth cigarette smoke and cheap liquor.
And just like that, she was no longer alone in her room.
One of the most eccentric looking men she had ever seen was on his hands and knees in front of her, smiling with a mouth full of distressingly sharp - stained - teeth. He was dressed in a matching suit of black and white vertical stripes... at least at one point they might have been white, it was hard to tell under the fine layer of grime and various imperfections. A shock of bright green hair was fluffled up on his head, and his rounded face sported a five o'clock shadow.
Holidae's jaw hung slack as she tried to process his sudden appearance. She felt so... small in his presence, as though his entire being filled the empty spaces in the room.
The wood floor under his hands and knees creaked suddenly with his new weight, his body shifting into a crouching position, "Hiya, Holly-Jolly."
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surrounded-by-superheroes · 6 years ago
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It’s a Dull World Without Green (Loki Oneshot)
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Summary; Loki’s dead and his loss is wrecking your life. You go out on a reckless rampage only stopped by your best friend Bucky, who keeps an annoyingly close eye on you. You’re not sure how to be without Loki, but soon you know you have to face it. But is he really gone after all?
A/N; This was so much fun to write and I know that might sound evil since it’s a whole lot of angst, but Bucky and y/n’s relationship was just toooo fun. Hope you like it! Thanks to @mal-functioning-writer for the idea!
Warnings; Language, talk of a character death, nightmares, uhhh angst.
Words; 6,403
I swerve a little as I speed down the city streets, bright lights turning into a dizzying blur around me like when I used to ride the Vomitatron at the fair. My gaze is solid and steady on the road ahead of me. The one thing in my fucking world that’s always been a constant; the ugly black scar torn into the earth guiding me to somewhere better. Which is anywhere. I blow through another red light and chuckle at the honking of horns. Being around the Avengers does have its perks. It’s infinitely easier to steal one of Stark’s cars, for example. He won’t mind paying the tickets for me. He owes me a few anyway. Eventually the city falls away and I’m embraced by the emptiness of the countryside. A couple more miles fly by before I pull over into a random field, then jump out and slam the car door shut. I relish in disturbing the silence with the noise. The grass tickles my bare feet and I only now realize I didn’t even bother to put shoes on. All I’m wearing is a baggy t-shirt and underwear as well. My eyes scan the land around me and I almost laugh. There’s no one to see me anyways, so who gives a fuck?
I tilt my head to the sky and look at the stars. There are actual stars this far out of the city. I show my teeth in some semblance of a grin and scream. The sound rips its way out of my throat like a wild animal and leaves it dry and burning as if I just downed a bottle of alcohol. Damn. Should’ve brought a bottle with me. Of course, after the scream fades it’s only me again. Alone, again. I fall to my knees and the damp earth catches me by my knees. My hands turn into fists and I cage my eyes with them as I begin to cry. Soon, sobs rack through me, leaving me trembling with the sadness in me that just wants out please let it out god please. My only comfort is that I’m alone. Of course, that ends too. My head snaps up when I hear a motorcycle in the distance and I quickly stand, drying my tears with the soft edge of my shirt. I huff when he stops and dismounts in one quick movement, letting out the kickstand without even looking away from the silhouette that is me.
I cross my arms across my chest and purse my lips. “Out for a night drive?” I remark sarcastically as he walks up to me. He’s angry, I can see that just from the way he’s carrying himself. Tight shoulders, sharp frown, fists clenched tight. Great.
“Following your crazy fucking ass. What the hell were you thinking? You ran every stoplight from the facility to here!” He scolds and I sigh.
“Oh no, the terror of tickets.” I force all the apathy I can into the word and Bucky’s frown deepens. “Calm down, Barnes, it isn’t like Tony can’t afford it.” The moonlight glints off his metal arm as the plates shift which means he’s pissed.
“I don’t give a shit about Stark. What’s going on with you? You tore out of the garage like a fucking racer.” Bucky’s eyes scrutinize me and I know he can see my red eyes. Dammit.
“I wanted to go for a drive. Speaking of…” I nod to him and walk past him to get back in the car, but he grabs my arm firmly, spinning me back to face him. Instantly, I jerk my arm out of his grasp. “Get the fuck off me, Barnes. Oh, and get the hell out of here while you’re at it.” I hiss venomously. Unfair, yes. It’s not his fault I’m out here. It’s not his fault my heart is aching like someone dick punched the thing. Bucky now grabs both my arms and makes me face him.
“The fuck is wrong with you? You’re usually a bitch, but not this bad.” He jokes a little which would usually illicit a witty retort from me, but not tonight. I meet his dark eyes without an ounce of humor in mine.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware your feelings were so fragile, princess. Why don’t you leave to go cry on Steve’s shoulder?” I move to swipe his hands off me, but he holds fast. His eyes scan my face while his eyebrows furrow in concern. It just had to be Bucky. I could lie to Steve easily enough, even Tony, but Bucky somehow always sees through my bullshit.
“Mmm, cute. Speaking of crying, I can tell you’ve been. Care to tell me why?” He asks sweetly while I stare at him in outrage. “Or are you going to continue this petulant child shit?” He continues and just manages to dodge my knee to his groin, but this time I’m able to slip away from his hands.
“Sure, because that’s why I came out here to the middle of butt fucking nowhere! So, you’d find me and we could have a nice bonding session!” I roll my eyes and rush to the car, slipping in the driver’s seat and reaching over for the keys I threw into the passenger side. Super soldier speed beats me to the punch and he lobs the keys into the long grass before turning back to me and crossing his arms. “What the fuck was that?”
Bucky sighs and shakes his head at me. “That was me probably saving your life. You shouldn’t be driving right now and, like you said, Stark can afford the inconvenience.” He tells me, his voice taking on that calm tone that it does when he knows he’s won. Not fucking likely. “Could you talk to me now?”
I get out of the car and slam the door shut again. “No. And I’m not going anywhere with you, so fuck off.” Huffing, I start heading over to the area he threw the keys. I hear him groan behind me.
“Just tell me what the fuck happened! Besides, I’ll hogtie you to the back of my bike before I leave you here.” He reveals and my emotions reach an all time high. When I spin back towards him his eyes widen a little at the pure fury on my face.
“I didn’t ask you to come here, Bucky! I didn’t ask for you to fucking follow me!” My feet stamp over to him and my fists start slamming against his hard chest before I know it. Shockingly, he lets me. At least for a few moments. Then my angry energy fades and I’m tired, I’m so damn tired. Slowly, Bucky wraps his arms around me and I let him.
“I know you didn’t ask for me to come, doll. But I’m here. I’m always going to look after you. You’re my little pain in the ass, right?” Bucky hushes me and the tears rise in me again, but I’m dry. Even my tear ducts are spent.
“He’s gone, Bucky. He’s gone.” I feel him relax under my hands as he realizes what’s going on.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His arms around me tighten as if maybe he can squeeze the memory out of me.
“I can’t go back there. Not yet. Please. Please don’t take me back.” I plead, knowing it’s okay to be pathetic in Bucky’s presence. We’ve been through too much together to be worried about appearances. Silence envelopes us for a few beats and I can feel Bucky’s heart beating under his shirt.
“Alright, doll. You got it.” He relents and gently leads me over to his motorcycle. We get on and I squeeze him tight as we take off, getting a little pleasure from the snapping of his jacket against the wind. I’m exhausted by the time we get to wherever he’s taking me, but I get off the bike anyways. Immediately I miss his warmth. Bucky must notice because no sooner have I started to shiver before he puts his jacket on me. Either that or he’s more modest than I am and doesn’t want people to see I don’t have pants or a bra on. I stare at the ground as we walk, only guided by my hand attached to his elbow. The ground changes from concrete to marble, then metal, then marble again, and finally to carpet. He sits me down on the bed and I’m very tempted to just fall asleep, but Bucky keeps me up.
“You just walked in New York without shoes on. I’m washing your feet.” He tells me and I casually notice that that was funny, but don’t have any desire to laugh or smile. Bucky comes back from the bathroom with a damp and soapy hand towel to clean my feet. He reaches a certain point and a laugh forces its way out of me while he tickles and his head snaps up to look at me with a half-smile. My smile fades and I hold my hand out for the rag. I don’t want to laugh right now. Or smile. It’s a betrayal. Smile gone, he hesitantly gives me the rag and I finish the job. Bucky takes the rag and tosses it with precision into the nearest trashcan, then takes his jacket off me and tucks me in. Once I’m comfortable he strips down to his boxers and tank-top before getting into the bed with me. I curl into him and let out a shaky sigh.
“The world is darker, Bucky.” I whisper against the fabric of his shirt. “Colors are duller. Music is sadder. What…how am I going to deal with this?” I ask him unfairly, knowing Bucky doesn’t have all the answers but wishing he did. Gently, his hand rubs up and down my arm, the only thing outside the sheets other than half of my head.
“I don’t know, doll.” He answers quietly. “I think…I think over time it just becomes normal. Music is just music again and colors are just colors. The world just becomes the world again.” I sniffle a little and shut my eyes.
“Sounds like shit.” I murmur and he sighs.
“Yeah. It is.” He says and ever so slowly, his breathing lulls me to sleep.
It’s pitch black. There’s almost a cartoonish feel to the space, like I’m inside a t.v. with small children pointing and laughing just on the other side of an unforeseen screen. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter where I am because he’s here.
“Loki?” I ask quietly, a smile automatically forming on my face. He’s not facing me, but I’ve spent too much time running my hands over those shoulders to not know the exact set of them, even under a suit jacket like they’re under now. “Loki. Hey!” I shout, now filled to the brim with joy and excitement. He turns towards me with a welcoming smile and I start running. Thank god. Thank god he’s okay. I run faster and get a hit of cartoon déjà vu again. My eyes glance to my feet and I get the distinct feeling that even though my feet are moving, I am not. A frown now pulling down at my smile, I look back up at him. “Loki, I can’t move.” I tell his still smiling face.
“My love?” He questions and my heart sings at the sound of his voice but squeezes at the look of confusion on his face. Abruptly his expression changes into a pained one and I push my legs harder, but still don’t go anywhere. “Please. Please, no.” He begs and my worry spikes. Loki doesn’t beg. The terror on his face feels like a dagger to my heart and I’m now covered in sweat from pushing myself so hard.
“Loki, hold on!” I yell, hearing the strain in my voice.
“Stop. Enough. Please, stop!” He starts screaming and I’m helpless as his skin slowly turns blue and his eyes red. Blood begins dripping from his nose, his ears, his eyes, until his entire body starts turning red and melts into a puddle of dark blood on the floor. Now, my feet carry me to him and I collapse onto my knees, my hands reaching forward and staining themselves red.
“No. No, no, no.” I plead, reaching up and scraping my hands across my face, staining it with his blood. Suddenly I feel a hand around my throat and hear a dark laugh…
“Wake up, dammit!” I sit straight up in bed, covered in cold sweat. My eyes look around frantically and I nearly scream when I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Hey now. It’s just me.” Bucky tells me softly, care and concern in his blue eyes.
“I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there, Bucky. I couldn’t get to him. God.” I cry before shutting my eyes and collecting myself enough to not cry. Bucky runs a hand up and down my spine as I shove my fists in my eyeballs until I’m sure I’m okay. A long sigh slips out of my lips and I look down at my hands, surprised and relieved to find them absent of any blood. I slip out of bed without looking at Bucky and walk into the bathroom. After a couple splashes of cold water on my face, I feel a little better. I take the time now to actually survey the place. White marble everywhere, actual towels hanging on the sterling silver hangars, a spotless mirror showing how shitty I look, this place is four stars at least. My eyes find Bucky leaning against the doorway.
“Living the high life in this place, huh?” I comment dryly and he shrugs.
“Figured it would be better than the motel a couple miles back. Or the facility.” His eyes watch my reaction carefully and I know that’s why he mentioned it. To test my mental state.
“Yeah.” I look back down at the floor.
“You know we’ll have to go back sometime, right?” He asks and I look back up at him with a bit of fire in my eyes.
“Why do people always say that? It isn’t true. I could easily just take Tony’s handy little black card and head to Spain. Live an easy, carefree life on the beach.” I postulate and Bucky snorts.
“First, nothing with you is easy. Second, fine. Correction, the healthy thing would be to go back and face this.” Ugh, I hate it when he’s right.
“Being healthy is overrated.” I snap and walk past him into the hotel room again. It’s very white in here. White walls, white bed, white couch. Cream colored carpet, though. Thank god for some variety.
“You should go back to sleep. There’s still a couple hours before sunrise.” Bucky tells me in that same soft voice as before, but I immediately dismiss the thought.
“Yeah, do you think I want to go back to sleep after that? Nope.” I shake my head and turn back towards him. He’s turned towards me but is still leaning against the doorway to the bathroom, watching me carefully.
“Then what do you want to do, doll? Do you want to talk about this?” Bucky asks and I instantly know he’d be down for anything. My mind scrambles for an idea and lands on a stupid one. A stupid one that I know Bucky will do.
“Let’s go to the beach.” Obviously, this is not what he expected I’d say.
“The beach.”
“Yes.”
“You want to go to the beach in October.”
“Yes.” I confirm and Bucky sighs as he tries to follow my thinking. He presses his knuckles to the bridge of his nose as he decides.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I perk up when he accepts and starts getting dressed. I slip on the complimentary slippers and am ready, but Bucky gives me his jacket as well. We head down into what I now see is a cavernous lobby and check out. I get quite a few strange looks from people, but no one dares comment when they see Bucky by my side. In a few minutes we’re back on his bike and flying through the city again. It takes a little under two hours to reach Brooklyn. Of course, Bucky takes me to Coney Island. He grumbles about his bike and the sand but falls silent when I drag him into the sand. I make him leave his boots beside my slippers close to his bike so we can feel the sand in between our toes as we walk to the water.
“It’s fucking cold.” He tells me and I shoot him a frown.
“Oh no, is the Winter Soldier too cold?” I poke fun at him and he shakes his head with a pout. Finally, we reach the water and I inhale sharply when the cold-water laps at my feet. A smile almost on my face, I soak in the feeling. It’s the only real feeling other than pain and fear I’ve had for days. Quickly, I shed Bucky’s jacket and my shirt and walk right into the water.
“Hypothermia! You’re going to get, oh fucking hell.” I hear Bucky scold, but his words don’t slow me in the slightest. My teeth start chattering after a minute and it feels glorious. I duck under the surface and come up instantly, relishing the painful cold. Turning around, I shoot Bucky a grin as he frowns deeply at me. “You’re out in a minute and thirty seconds or I’m dragging you out!” He yells and I let out a harsh laugh. The waves push and pull at me deliciously and the pebbles dig into my feet unforgivingly. I brush my hair back with my hands and droplets fall down my face. Suddenly I’m struck by the surety that the liquid on my face is red. Gasping, I hold my hands out and blink, but they’re just my hands. Crinkled, callused, and dripping water, not blood. “Alright, out! Now!” Not wanting to be in the water anymore anyway, I obey Bucky’s harsh commands. My arms are crossed across my chest to shield my breasts from scarring his memory. No one else is here anyways. I’m shivering like a leaf in a hurricane but I refuse Bucky’s jacket.
“Let me d-dry a bit, t-then I’ll p-put it on.” I stutter and he huffs.
“Your lips are purple, dammit. That was fucking stupid of you.” Bucky continues chastising me.
“It felt g-good Bucky. I f-felt it. I c-could f-feel it.” I tell him with chattering teeth. I know he understands what I’m feeling when his blue eyes meet mine.
“Fine. Fucking fine. Stay here and do not get in again.” He points his metal finger at me and I exaggeratedly cross my heart before he starts jogging down the beach. I turn back towards the water and shut my eyes while the sun finally starts to show it’s face to this side of the world. This has always been my favorite time of day. The world is quiet. Well, as quiet as New York can get. This is when I’d wake up to find him still sleeping next to me. This is when I’d wake him up with gentle kisses all over his face and when he just started to stir, tiny nips to his neck and collar bone. For a moment, I let myself revel in the warmth of the memory, then my breath is knocked out of me by the thought I’ll never have that again. I’ll never have him again. Christ, how do people survive this? I ask the world and look at the beach when I hear footfalls on sand.
“Where the f-fuck did you g-get that?” I ask as he unfolds a, of course, dark green towel the size of a bear and wraps it around me. Immediately I relax into his embrace as he warms me not only with the towel but himself.
“There’s a shop a little ways down.” He tells me, rubbing his hands quickly up and down my covered arms. “Easy to break into.” I hum in muted interest, feeling a little warmer and a little sadder at the loss of the chill. He was always cold. “Fuck, I’m taking you back doll. You need clothes. Medicine.” Bucky tells me and turns me towards him. I’m about to protest when I look up into his eyes. Worry, concern, fear, all for me swirls in his eyes. He’s done everything I’ve wanted him to. I can’t keep going like this anyways.
“Okay.” I agree and shock enters his eyes. Apparently, he thought I’d put up more of a fight than that. Leaving me and the towel, he shakes out my shirt and his jacket before putting them on me. Making sure the towel is still secure around me, we head back to the bike and get on. My arms are tight around Bucky and every time we make a sharp turn he puts a hand over mine clasped on his stomach. As if I’m a feather that will fly off if he goes a little too fast. When we reach the driveway of the facility I let go and lean back, wrapping my legs around his waist instead. I stretch my arms out to the sides and feel the breeze whip around me like hands tugging insistently. Bucky’s hand is solid on my ankles to make sure I’m safe, but I’m sure he’s cussing me out. When he starts slowing down I return to the traditional position with a sigh and look up at the hulking metal building. I get off and Bucky turns on a dime to face me, angry words perched on the end of his tongue. When he sees my face, he falters.
“Come on.” He beckons and I grab his elbow to stop him.
“I’m…I’m not ready to go in.” I tell him, looking up at the window of our room, knowing exactly which one it is even from the outside. I look back to see Bucky studying my face. Incidentally, it seems I’ve reached the end of his patience. He scoops me up and fireman carries me inside while I hit his back. “I said I wasn’t ready!” I yell at him and he slaps my ass in response.
“And you need medical attention. Stop being fucking immature or I’ll spank you again.” He threatens. “And stop hitting me. Christ.” Bucky breathes and I stop, not feeling bad at all. While last night I definitely hit him hard enough to leave bruises, these were slaps meant to annoy him more than anything else. My silence apparently convinces him I’m on my best behavior because he sets me on my feet and lets me walk beside him.
“That hurt, you know.” I tell him, desperately trying to keep my mind on anything else. Bucky chuckles.
“No, it fucking didn’t.” He declares truthfully and I feel him look down at me. My hand is digging into the scarred skin of his inner elbow and my eyes focus on that instead of the space around us. Bucky allows me this kindness and just guides me to the medical wing. I relax a little in this part of the facility. He was never here much. We enter and I breathe a sigh of relief before I lose my ability to breathe all together.
“Honestly, this isn’t necessary. I just want to see her. Since you lost her, imbeciles.” Loki says with all his usual sass and pomp. He says it in a very not dead way since he is very much not dead.
“Look, it’s your fault she disappeared. If you just told her the plan, then maybe she wouldn’t have run! Asshole.” Tony fires back and takes the needle out of Loki’s arm, freezing when he sees me. “Oh, shit.” Loki turns to face me and the shattered pieces of my heart shiver with pleasure as his eyes scan me.
“Is this real.” I state numbly, looking up at Bucky. His murderous eyes betray everything and I release him, walking over to Loki. My hand reaches up of its own volition and a trembling breath leaves my lips when I feel his soft, freezing cheek under my hand once again.
“Love, I’m-” cut off when I retract my hand and bring it forward in a savage punch, my entire weight thrown behind it.
“You’re fucking alive, you motherfucking asshole of a god!” I screech and wind up for another punch, but just miss his nose when Bucky’s arms wrap around my waist and tug me back. “Not for long because I’m going to fucking slap the life out of you, you demeaning cunt wipe!”
“Stop! Doll, you need to stop.” Bucky’s voice is insistent at my ear and I relax into his arms, letting him hold me close, my arms crossed under Bucky’s. Flexing his jaw, Loki stands and rushes to me, framing my face with his hands.
“It had to be done, darling. Please. If you’ll only listen to me. I apologize that I had to hurt your feelings-”
“MY FEELINGS?” I thunder and Bucky pulls me back further when I snap at Loki with my teeth. “I DIED!” I sob. “I died with you that day.” My voice is hushed now, breaking. “Don’t talk to me about feelings. You took all that with you. You took the world away from me. I don’t have any more feelings for you to hurt.” I cry out, my heart weeping in relief and my blood boiling with anger. His ice blue eyes burn into mine with unexplainable hurt and sadness swimming in their depths. “Bucky take me out. Please. Take me out of here.” I beg and after a second’s hesitation, he does so. He takes me into the room across the hall and locks the door, then hides us behind a metal cabinet filled with something boring like files. It’s there, behind a dusty cabinet in a room that no one uses, that I break down. Bucky turns me around and cradles me to his chest as sobs tear their way out of my body. My hands curl into fists while holding his shirt in them to keep me anchored to something. Anything real. Bucky accepts every shuddering breath, every sharp cry, and absorbs each tear into his shirt. “S-sorry. I’m s-so s-sorry.” I breathe when I get some breath back and pull back just enough to see the messy artwork of tears and snot on his shirt.
“Now, what have we said about being like this with each other. Huh?” He tips my chin up and manages a small smile.
“That we’re both pathetic so why not be pathetic together.” I state as he leads me to a spare hospital bed. I sit down and he hands me a box of tissues, then shrugs off his stained shirt and sets it next to me.
“That’s right. Keep that fucking chin up, doll.” He taps just under my chin and nearly gets me to smile. A knock sounds on the door and we both swivel to face it.
“It’s Tony. You came to the medical wing for a reason, I’m guessing?” He questions and Bucky looks to me for direction.
“Yeah, not to get ambushed by someone who I thought was dead! WHICH YOU APPARENTLY KNEW ABOUT.” Bucky flinches when I scream and shakes his head at me.
“Christ. It was a plan, okay? Could I at least come in so you can scream at me face to face?” He offers and I look at Bucky for a few moments before nodding. Bucky walks over and unlocks the door, letting Tony in before closing it and locking it once again. Tony looks cautious and his hands are up like I’ve got a gun trained on him. “Look, we needed to minimize our threat to the outside world. The best way to do that was to eliminate the biggest player which, as much as I’d like to say differently, is your psychopath. Now, we have a big hammer that the enemy doesn’t know about that will come in handy the next time they come knocking. And they will.” I hate it, but this makes complete sense.
“And you couldn’t tell me, why?” I shoot back, unwilling to let this go yet. Tony sighs and lets his hands drop when it seems I’m not going to attack him.
“It had to be fucking convincing. You had to be broken hearted and you wouldn’t have been if you knew he was actually fine.” Tony scoffs. “We were shocked you actually bought it. How many times has the guy come back to life now?” My hands turn into fists and Tony looks a little apprehensive once again. “I’m not being an asshole, just factual. The whole team agreed to it, begrudgingly. Well, except this guy and you.”
I start. “The whole team?” I repeat, glancing at Bucky. At least I’m not the only one in the dark.
“And why wasn’t I told?” Bucky asks, stepping beside me and away from the door. Tony rolls his eyes.
“Obviously because you’d have told her. The minute she left you were after her.” He says and I admit that’s totally correct. “Speaking of, where the hell is my Ferrari?” The corner of my mouth lifts at the thought and I look at Bucky.
“In the middle of the New York country side.” I admit and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck. Why’re you here, anyways? Are you sick?” Tony cuts to the chase, tired of dealing with us no doubt.
“I want her checked for hypothermia.” Bucky says and Tony moves towards me.
“The hell did you two get up to while you were gone?” He asks as he does the check-up himself.
“She decided to take a dip in the ocean.” Bucky tells him, clearly still heavily disapproving of the choice.
“In October?” Tony asks and I sigh.
“I’m sorry, I thought it was August.” I sass, getting a little grin from both men. Tony backs up and shrugs.
“You’re fine on all accounts, although you may have a cold. I prescribe warm clothes, soup, and rest. You look like shit.” I flip him off as he walks out, then look at Bucky. It’s quiet for a little while and I take the time to think of what I actually need.
“I have to see him.” I tell him and he nods.
“Warm clothes first.” He says and his tone tells me there will be no arguing about it unless I want to be fireman carried again. His arm around my shoulders, we walk out and to his room. Can’t risk going to Loki and I’s because he may be there and there’s no way Bucky is going to allow that before he’s made sure I’m warm. He gives me some navy sweatpants and a big, grey, long-sleeved sweatshirt that engulfs me. But at least I’m out of my old clothes and warming up quickly. I put my big shirt and underwear in his hamper, vowing to do his laundry for him soon. He’s waiting for me outside the bathroom door as if worried I was going to flush myself down the toilet. We meet each other’s eyes and his soften when I wrap my arms around his waist.
“Thank you, Bucky. You always look after me.” I tell him genuinely. I’m not sure I would’ve made it through without his stubborn, bossy ass riding my tail this whole time. His arms wrap around me and he plants a rare kiss on my salty hair.
“You and Steve. Somehow I’m stuck with the two most self-destructive assholes on the fucking planet.” I laugh a little and pull back to look at his face.
“Mmhmm. And we keep you from self-destructing, you ass-kissing wanker.” I pat his back affectionately while he chuckles.
“Get outta here, brat.” He releases me and shoos me to the door. I flip him off fondly before slipping out and running to our room, bursting through the doors and scanning the room for the man I sort of tried to murder.
“Darling?” His voice is soft and pained and I follow it to the other side of the bed. He looks a mess. Hair curly how I like it but draped over his face messily. The buttons on his violet shirt have been ripped off and it hangs off him half off, half on. There’s a long rip from his ankle to his knee in his black slacks, but none of that matters. It’s him. He stands on shaky feet with pain radiating from his sapphire eyes. “My love, please listen to me. I-” He’s cut off this time by me running to him and pressing my lips to his. A few happy tears smear off my cheeks and onto his as he catches me and holds me closer. My legs are locked around him and my hands tangle in his silky hair to prevent any thoughts of escape. I sigh in relief at the feeling of him. He’s an addiction I never want to give up, never want any remission from.
“Loki. Loki.” I breathe as the cold from his hands leaks through the sweatshirt and soaks my skin deliciously with goosebumps.
“My dear, I’m sorry.” His lips murmur against my own as if teaching me to say them. “It was for you, love. I only wanted to assure your safety. I swear it. I swear-” I silence him with a hard kiss, relishing in being able to taste him once again.
“I don’t care about safe.” I gasp, separating our mouths for a moment an instead resting our foreheads together. Our eyes burn into one another’s and my soul relishes in being whole again. “I care about being with you. At home, on the battlefield, in hell, in heaven.” I frame his face with my hands. “Wherever you are, I’m there too. Do you hear me? Do this again and you’re going to wish you had died.” A gentle smile graces his face and he pecks my lips sweetly.
“I defer to you, my queen.” He whispers and I smile. My first real, teeth-showing smile in weeks.
“Fucking right you do.” I peck his lips over and over and over again and Loki sits on the bed so his hands can slip under the sweatshirt. I shiver and my lips start chattering again. Confused and worried, he pulls back. “Uh, I might have a cold. I demand soup, a movie, and your presence at all times.” He shakes his head at me.
“I insist on that last command, dearest one.” He tells me and burrito wraps me in a blanket before carrying me bridal style to the kitchen. We end up on the couch with a bowl of soup in my lap, Loki rubbing my feet, a movie on the television, and Bucky shooting Loki harsh looks whenever he comes in the room. Bucky is slow to forgive, but he just wants me happy. He’ll come around eventually. I wiggle my toes against Loki’s hand and he gifts me a smile. Leaning forward is my request for a kiss and he complies, gently pressing his lips to mine.
“You’re mine.” I mouth against his lips and feel his smirk.
“I’m yours.” He affirms. Blue eyes shining when I look at them.
“Then you’ll marry me.” I state, grinning when his eyes widen and he pulls back to look at my whole face.
“Do you truly mean this?” He asks and I roll my eyes, setting my soup on the coffee table so it doesn’t spill.
“I want to tie myself to you in every possible way. Earthly, humanly, Asgardianly, whatever. We’ll do a human ceremony, an Asgardian ceremony, a Jotun ceremony, a fucking space ceremony.” I put my hand on the back of his neck to keep him close to me. “I want anyone and everyone to know that we belong to one another.” I tell him firmly, rolling in my burrito until I’m straddling him. “The only problem is that you need to accept.” Loki blinks as if it hadn’t occurred to him he had to.
“I accept.” He says instantly. “I wish for you to be mine in every way possible as well, darling.” He tells me and we press out smiling lips together once again. God, I’ll never get tired of this.
“Hey, hey, hey. No fucking screwing on my couch!” Tony scolds as he comes into the room and I reluctantly dismount Loki, reaching for my soup once again. After I’ve once again relaxed in my seat and Tony seems satisfied to stay in the kitchen, Loki twirls his hand and summons a small box. My wide eyes land on it with shock before looking back at his amused blue ones.
“Were you naïve enough to think I wasn’t already pondering when to ask you this question?” He pops the ring box open and a small gasp parts my lips. A thin rose-gold band supports a line of sterling diamonds that leads to a dark jade gem the size of a blueberry. It’s haloed by small diamonds and is absolutely breathtaking.
“Loki, fucking hell.” I whisper, my hand grabbing his in shock. Two other bands lie in the box, both covered in clear diamonds and both rose gold.
“That is acceptance, is it not?” He teases, plucking the engagement ring from the box before making it disappear.
“Yes. Of course! My answer is yes, you ass, I just asked you!” He laughs at my foul mouth and slips the ring on my left hand where it sits heavily.
“Then we are tied together, my love.” He accepts and I smirk.
“Gives new meaning to ball and chain.” I chuckle and his brows furrow.
“I don’t understand. Ball and chain?” Loki questions and I laugh, patting his shoulder and relaxing back in my seat. “Isn’t that a weapon?” He continues and I laugh a little harder.
“No, but your fiancée is.” He smirks at that and goes back to massaging my feet while I marvel at the ring on my finger, blown away by how massively life can change in just a few hours. And for the better.
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winetae · 7 years ago
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⇾ tessellate 02
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⇁ hoseok x female reader x jungkook
⇁ smut, slight angst || fuckboi!au
⇁ public sex, exhibitionist themes, angsty sex;
⇁ 10.1k
. . .
“ Triangles are my favorite shape Three points where two lines meet.” (tessellate)
Triangles are supposed to be the strongest and most stable of all geometric shapes. You wonder how true this statement is if applied to real life situations. The way you see it: triangles aren’t a reliable structure for relationships, especially if the parties you’re involved with find commitment to be a foreign concept.
↳ or : a fuckboy’s guide to polyamory
⇀ start | 01 | 02
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Your life is a mess — figuratively and literally. Empty coffee cups fill up your wastebasket; messy notes are strewn across your desk. Your sheets are in desperate need of washing — not that you can bring yourself to care when you’ve been falling asleep at your desk for the last three days. 
Sleep itself has become a foreign concept. Cup ramen and dry shampoo are now your trusted best friends. Although you do require ten different alarms on your phone to make sure you don’t miss class, your body miraculously manages to function properly enough for you to trudge through the week more or less unscathed. 
The past week in question is a blur; one never-ending, miserable routine that starts and ends with schoolwork. When your days aren’t eaten away by your part-time job and classes, you spend the rest of your time cram studying in cafes or finishing off your semester project in one of the available art studios on campus. You’re too caught up with your mountain-high pile of workload to dwell on any relationship troubles, especially when finals are knocking at your door, ready to promptly drag you down to your grave. 
"Rough night?" 
One of the only classmates you’re acquainted with, Joo, slinks into the chair beside yours, her leather messenger bag dropping to the floor with an audible thud. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts under your nose, and your sleep-deprived eyes are immediately drawn to the venti-sized cup she nurses in her hands. Your stomach growls — a loud reminder that you’ve been living off nothing but shots of caffeine and instant noodles.
"Is it that obvious?" You cover the undersides of your eyes self-consciously with your sleeve-covered hands. 
Has your concealer worn off already? The drugstore brand isn’t renowned for being long-lasting but it should, at the minimum, last longer than an hour… What the hell? You had been relying on the product to make you look somewhat human. You grown inwardly, already imagining how frightening you must look with your panda eyes and greasy hair haphazardly tied into a poorly put together bun. You make a mental note to stay away from the sight of your reflection only because you want to spare your eyes the pain.
Your clothes don’t help your case, either — the wrinkled hoodie that dwarfs your form makes you look like an unidentifiable blob who has been living in the same outfit for the past week...which, admittedly, wouldn’t be too far from the truth. You’re sure anyone who takes one glimpse in your direction would think you’ve given up on looking like a normal human being. Between the fight with Hoseok and finals looming over your head like a dark cloud, you’ve been neglecting to take care of yourself properly. And, in all honesty, you would rather sleep an extra fifteen minutes than get up to apply a layer of makeup.
"Don't worry, you don't look worse than anyone else here..." She gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder after noticing your gloomy expression.
A cursory glance around the room confirms Joo’s statement. Her words, however, fail to cheer you up. To know that you’re not worse off than the rest of your classmates is not the most comforting piece of information. A sea of red-rimmed eyes, sunken expressions and grayish complexions surrounds you; it’s a sight you would expect to see in post-apocalyptic movies, not in a 10 am painting class. 
"I stayed up until four finishing the damned thing. Thank God for coffee, right?" ” Joo’s lips curl into a frown as she pulls out her essay from her overstuffed bag. She curses under her breath when she notices the front page is dogeared and runs a hand over it in an attempt to flatten it out.
"Yeah.... I haven't been able to sleep much. I wish Professor Park would give us some slack.”
"Him? Give us a break? Yeah, right. He gets off watching us suffer. Why else would he give us this much work before finals? Fuckin' sadist.” She leans forward to press down harder, face contorted in a frown. “He can't wait to see us breakdown from the stress alone." Finally, she kicks one of the legs of the chair in front of her and slumps in her seat, apparently having given up on fixing the crease that mars the cover of her assignment.
Right on cue, the door slides open, and she peeks though her fingers, probably expecting Park to storm in right then. Her tense shoulders relax when the last students shuffle in instead of Park. She waves one of her friends over to the vacant chair next to her, her expression perking up.
You don’t recognize her friend, but, then again, you’re disgustingly bad at remembering faces. If Joo hadn’t struck up a conversation with you several weeks ago, you probably wouldn’t remember her, either. Your eyes stay peeled on her approaching form, partly out of secret admiration; unlike the rest of the zombie lookalikes in the class, her skin glows and her hair is perfectly sleek and shiny (the shampoo-advertisement glossy perfection you see on TV, not the gross kind of oily).
"You lot look like you've gone to hell and back again." The tall girl says in lieu of greeting, turning up her nose at the sight of the two of you. The look that crosses her face suggests she’s accidentally planted her heeled boot smack dab in a pile of cow dung… It does wonders for your ego. 
"That's 'cos we have.” Joo grumbles behind the rim of her cup of coffee. “Did you forget the 12 page essay due today?" 
"I'm more surprised you remembered. You're so unorganized, it’s a wonder you get any assignments done on time. It stresses me out every time I see you write your homework down on your hand. You can’t keep living this way… It’s April and you still don’t own a fucking planner!”
"Yeah yeah, whatever, mom. I'm not the only one who looks like death. Why don't you scold ____, too?"
You freeze up as they both turn to look at you, feeling the weight of their stares sweep over you.
The look Tall Girl appraises you with makes you flatten the top of your hair in a half-assed attempt to look more presentable. You don’t need confirmation of your repulsiveness when you're already all too aware that your tangled and knotted tendrils look like an open invitation for birds to come make their nest atop your head.
"I overslept today, s'all, didn’t have time to brush my hair," you mumble intelligibly between your teeth. You tug the sleeves of your sweater further down so that your fists are covered in the soft fabric, silently wishing that the ground would choose this exact moment to swallow you whole.
"It's cool that you're so confident in your appearance. I think if I dated someone so handsome, I would worry a lot more,” she says, leaning forward on her elbows to get a good look at you. You’re running dangerously low on sleep and patience which is why the mention of Hoseok instantly puts you in a crappy mood.
"Not everyone is that superficial, Lin. Exams are next week. Only you would care enough to get a Brazilian blowout four days before exams start." Joo forces out a laugh, trying to dispel the silent tension that had inched its way into the conversation. “Lin is a bit of bitch, don’t take it personally.”
“We all have our faults,” she shrugs, unbothered. “I’m a superficial, materialistic bitch — the kind trophy wives aspire to be. But at least I’m upfront about it. Say what you want, but I’m not the worse of the batch… Some people don’t have any morals.”
“You have morals? I’m surprised that you have a soul,” Joo snickers, earning an eye roll.
“Some things just go against my principles. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing UGG boots, for example. Not even if you paid me to.” You can’t help but look down at her outfit — the sparkly pink ensemble looks straight out of the set of Scream Queens. “I only smoke weed on weekends and I don’t kiss boys who are taken.”
Mr. Park chooses that moment to enter the classroom, and you silently thank him for the save. You’re not sure what you could have replied to that, anyway. This is why you try not to interact with anyone, you think to yourself.
As the voice of your professor drones on, going over the study material for the nth time this week, your mind unwilling drifts back to Hoseok, prompted by Lin’s words.
It’s not like you’re actively thinking of him every second of every day. The God honest truth is that you’re trying your best not to let yourself be consumed by thoughts of him. For the most part, your method works well. You’ve got so much to juggle on your plate at the moment that your romantic woes are on the bottom of your growing list of concerns. Yet there are inevitable times when you’re forced to acknowledge the jumbled feelings you haven’t been able to sort out since the night you walked out on him.
Now being a prime example.
Lin’s words bring you back to last week’s fight, the incriminating messages found on his phone and his refusal to explain himself. You still have no clue what you should make of it. Your experience is limited; none of your past relationships have ever been this complicated or dramatic. The entire situation makes your heart clench with anxiety. Bubbling panic brews in the pit of your stomach when your thoughts linger on this subject too long.
Avoiding Hoseok will only postpone confrontation but you would rather battle one fight at a time. Finals are the most important. That’s what you tell yourself anyway, trying to justify your actions when you refuse to call him back after he leaves yet another voicemail.
Mina [10:21 am] you owe me lunch
Mina [10:21 am] it’s been a week
Oh, right… Mina had ordered you a cheese pizza last week when you refused to come out of your room. You had promised to pay her back, only to eventually forget. 
You glance ahead, trying to type your reply back as surreptitiously as possible.
Mina [10:22 am] pls feed me today
Mina [10:22 am] i’m broke af rn. my paycheck doesn’t come until the end of the month
You [10: 24 am] okay, fine. meet up for coffee at 12?
Mina [10:24 am] yes!!! I love you <33
Mina [10:25 am] is now a good time to tell u I finished your apple pie this morning
You [10:25 am] !!!!!!
You [10:26 am] I fucking hate you
Mina [10:28 am] sorry :-( will do your laundry for a week
You type back the last message with more force than necessary, a frown marring your features.
A voice interrupts your internal monologue, “Miss ______.”
The call of your name makes your head snap up, your wide eyes meeting the stern gaze of your professor. Although you feel like a deer in headlights, you try to mask your dread with a look of innocence. Several students have turned around to glance at you, and your cherry cheeks burn under the scrutiny.
“Yes?” Your response comes out as a nervous squeak, the sound betraying you. As you clear your throat with a loud cough, the hand that grips your phone under the table trembles.
Park heaves a sigh, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. “Please come see me after class.” The expression etched on his face informs you that whatever discussion he wishes to have with you will most likely not bode well for your future.  
“Yes, sir,” comes your meek reply.
Joo shoots you a sympathetic smile you weakly reciprocate.
It seems like your week from hell can get worse, you despair, holding back a groan. Stress eats away at you and you find it impossible to concentrate on the lesson when your thoughts cycle between Hoseok, your professor, and how your life just monumentally sucks. 
When class is finally dismissed, your shoulders sag with the weight of your accumulated troubles. You plod on over to your teacher’s desk, your apprehension visible on your face. 
“Your essay on George Seurat and Neo-Impressionism you handed in last week was, quite frankly, a disappointment,” is what he says once the last students have cleared out. 
Your stomach drops and you think you’re about to feel sick. Being told you’re failing class is not on the list of words you want to hear, now or ever. Back in high school, your work was always highly praised with a stellar grade to prove it, but you feel like your luck is about to change. 
“This isn’t the first month of college anymore. We’re almost at the end of the year, so I expect more from you. If you turn in something like that on the day of the final exam… Don’t expect a passing grade. I’m telling you this because I know that you’re capable of doing better.” 
He hands you your paper, red scribbles smirching the entirety of the first page. You take it back gingerly, afraid to read through all of your teacher’s commentary. Clutching your paper to your chest like a shield, you brace yourself for further criticism. 
“The factual content on the color theory is not false but your explanations are muddled and clumsy. If you follow the methodology we went over in class, you wouldn’t be having this problem. You seem distracted lately, and today was not an exception.” You respond to the pointed look he aims at you with a sheepish expression. 
“You don’t have a lot of time left, so make sure to straighten out your priorities. You have to get yourself back in the game, _____. Don’t lose focus of the objective now! You don’t want to see me next year again, alright?” The small smile he gives you makes you nod automatically. You thank him and promise him that you’ll try harder.
Outside, Joo looks up from her phone when you finally come out of the classroom. Lin stands behind her, inspecting her nails with a bored look plastered on her face. “So, how did it go?”
“Oh...it went fine. He’s not as scary as he looks,” you force out a smile, feeling a little dead inside. There’s a head-splitting ringing in your ears that makes your vision spin — almost as if someone has just hammered you over the head.  “He just wanted to go over the essay we turned in last week.”
“Cheer up,” she pats your shoulder awkwardly, your hand falling back to her side. “We’re going to work on our paintings this afternoon in Studio B. You should come too, if you’re not busy.”
“Yeah, okay.” The corners of your lips hurt, but you continue smiling. 
Your body moves on autopilot for the rest of the day — your feet two lead weights you drag across the floor to your next class. The only thing you look forward to is your lunch date with Mina. You’re so down that you don’t mind spending an extra ten bucks on sweets because you’re in serious need of a pick-me-up. 
The café you usually study in is packed; tables all around you are taken up by the MacBooks of students. You manage to find a seat in the very back, next to a lady in her seventies feeding her Chihuahua the crumbs of her cookie. There is not much elbow room, but Mina somehow manages to fit the tray of Danish pastries and her plate of Black Forest cake on the small table. 
She doesn’t waste a second — her fork attacking the desserts like a woman possessed.
“You aren’t getting that?” she mouths around a bite of Spandauer.
Your phone buzzes four more times on the table, a selfie of Hoseok with his older sister's dog you’ve set as your lockscreen staring up at you.
'Two Missed Calls from Hoseok' your phone alerts you, making your roommate raise an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction.
You choose to ignore both the call and the look she aims at you, your face schooled in a mask of nonchalance. “Hm? It can wait. I’d rather spend my time with you.”
“How sweet,” she says, not without her suspicions. “It's fine, you can answer. It might be important, you never know... And please.” She rolls her eyes. "Don't say that when it’s never stopped you before.”
“Ha ha," you say drily, cursing how she's able to see right through you. "Is it so hard to believe it when I say I would rather talk to you? It's been a while since we've spent time together.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you would rather be sucking Hoseok’s meat stick. Not that I blame you… I’d suck that dry if I could. Not that I would since you’re dating him but y’know. I’m getting pretty desperate... I’m this close to letting Dandruff Dan take me on a date. Don’t look at me like that! You don’t know what it’s like, okay? My vagina hasn’t had any action in so long, it’s starting to feel dusty.”
Next to you, an old lady splutters into her coffee cup, shocked no doubt by the vulgarity of today’s youth. One look at the scandalized expression carved on her face and you don’t know whether to laugh or to feel embarrassed. A nervous, strangled giggle leaves your mouth before you can stop it, earning you another glare. You’re thankful at least Mina has the decency to mouth her apology while handing the elderly woman a stack of paper napkins.
“I’d love for her to have a chat with my gran,” Mina says under her breath after making sure the white-haired woman could no longer overhear your discussion. “She used to be a groupie and followed rock stars around from city to city. If you knew the stuff she did… Makes pornos look tame. Ah, I really miss her… She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew I haven’t had dick in over six months...”
She takes another bite of cake, looking thoughtful. "Are you sure Jimin isn't down to mingle?"
"Dunno..." You twirl your stripped straw around your smoothie, refusing to think about Jimin. Jimin makes you think of Hoseok, and Hoseok is a problem you can't bring yourself to solve.  "Haven't seen him around much lately."
You've never interacted much before, but now that you're giving Hoseok the silent treatment, you're hell bent on avoiding any of his friends as well.
"What's going on? I can tell something's up. You've been biting your straw non-stop since we sat down and just look at your nails." You look down, finally taking notice of the tragic state of your nails, uneven with chips of fading blue nail polish still coloring your thumbs. "And it's not like you to blow off Hoseok twice in a row like that."
"Just, you know...  Stupid stuff."
"It's not stupid if it's bothering you. You can tell me what's wrong, if you want. I'm not the best at giving advice, but I don't like seeing you like," she waves a hand around at your face, "this. You look like…”
“Death came knocking at your door this morning," she supplies with a grimace. "Jesus, when was the last time you took a shower? Seriously… What's bothering you so much? Is it Hoseok? Did you guys finally have a fight?"
"Finally? What is that supposed to mean?”
"Well, yeah. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”
"Wait, what? You aren’t surprised?”
“Honestly?” Hesitation crosses her features as she mulls over her words. The beat of silence speaks volumes and gives you your answer before she finally speaks again. “Not really. What happened exactly?"
"I found some weird pictures on his phone. This girl he's been talking to sends him semi-nudes."
Mina shoots you an apologetic look. “I’ve always thought relationships built on sex don’t last long. Don’t take offense, okay? But all you two do is fuck. Any of your interactions involve getting each other off some way or another. I’m not saying that he should take you out to a fancy restaurant or anything, but... Do you guys even talk? What do you guys even do?”
“We do talk!” You’re quick to argue, used to defending yourself from accusations. “We text each other and we call each other when we can. Both of us are really busy right now, that’s why we haven’t been able to spend time with each other as much as I would’ve liked...”
“Okay...” She smiles, unconvinced. “And what do you guys talk about exactly?”
“Just, like...normal, mundane stuff. How our day went, what we’re having for dinner. But we’ve never argued before this...”
“So...superficial talk. You could have the same conversations with anyone else, am I right? And what do you even know about him? What’s his favorite color?”
“We don’t have to know everything about each other,” you argue. “We just started dating! You can’t expect us to know every single, little thing about each other. And, besides, I don’t know much about you, either, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close.  Knowing or not knowing his favorite color shouldn’t be a reason enough to be with him or not.”
“It was an example, gosh. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t see what’s changed between now and the time you guys were just casually fucking. Like, cool, he calls you his girlfriend now, but what does it matter if he’s off wetting his dick whenever you’re too busy to let him come by.”
“I don’t know about that. He did say that he didn’t get with her since he started dating me... I shouldn’t care about who he’s been with before that.”
“You actually believe that excuse?” Mina lets out an unattractive snort. Stabbing a fork into her slice of chocolate cake with more force than necessary, she scoops out a huge mouthful that she somehow manages to swallow in one bite. “Honey, he could at least try to sound a little more convincing. He got that straight from a 'How to be a fuckboy' manual.”
"Hoseok isn't like his friends," you insist, stubbornly.
"Sure, sure. Take off your rose covered lenses for a second and hear me out. Birds of a feather flock together. Even if he's not as bad as his fuckboy posse, he can't be squeaky clean either. He and his friends name themselves the Pussy Terminators... Not only is that cringe as fuck, it's also a quite telling."
"I think Hoseok mentioned Jimin was the one who came up with that..." you add as an afterthought.
"That's not the point here! The point is, those types of guys are good for a fuck, and that's it. I'm glad things were working well with Hoseok, but I also don't want you to get hurt. So talk it out, listen to what he has to say, but don't let him play you like the naive freshman he might think you are."
She takes one of your hands between her own, “Don’t let him step all over you, okay? I know you like him a lot, but I can see how stressed out and miserable you look.”
You chew on your bottom lip, mulling over her words in silence. While she does have a point, you want to give Hoseok the benefit of the doubt, even if you aren’t sure if he deserves it. 
The dilemma that rages inside your heart but be readable on your face, for Mina squeezes your hand in comfort. “Go home, take a hot shower. You’ll feel a lot better, trust me.” 
It turns out that Mina is right about at least one thing. The hot shower does wonders for the crick in your neck, and you feel like a different person now that your hair is clean and the thin layer of grime has been scrubbed off your body. A hot shower is not a miracle solution for all of your problems, but it’s one step in the right direction. 
Feeling rejuvenated in clean clothes, you head on over to the art studio to advance on your semester paint project with a spring in your step. Painting always helps your clear your mind — once you get in the zone, no one and nothing can distract you. 
The scaled down frame forces you to focus on the tiniest details, invisible to the untrained eye. With meticulous brush strokes, streaks of golden brown start to fill in the stenciled field. Every measured stroke is thought out and calculated; your hand is steady, your breath synced to each subtle movement of the paintbrush that glides across the smooth surface of the canvas.
Any of your previous worries are pushed to the back of your mind, out of sight. You don’t even notice when Joo and Lin eventually leave the studio, too immersed in the task at hand. The sun shifts in the sky, casting shadows that make it impossible to continue your work. 
It's when you finally set down the tool in your hand that you begin to register your immediate surroundings. The hands of the clock hung up on the wall indicate how much time has slipped by and, distantly, you tell yourself that you should hurry on home if you want to catch the first few minutes of the TV show you've been into lately.
However, instead of heading back home, you stare blankly at your unfinished painting. Intense dislike twists your insides and you have to fight down a scowl. 
The bright, warm hues of your painting are meant to reflect inner peace and happiness, but one glance tells you that the mix of colors look startlingly wrong. The blue of the sky is too icy, the golden field of wheat grim and inhospitable. You feel nothing when you stare at it, and that vacancy in your chest leaves you feeling bitter. 
Nothing in your life seems to be working out right now. 
You have no idea how to repair what’s been broken or where to even begin. Mina’s right, you think, you are miserable. Being with Hoseok had only been a temporary bliss, but it wasn’t a solution to all of your existing problems. While the rest of your life slowly spiraled out of control, you found refuge in his touch and his whispered words of reassurance. 
A quiet knocking at the door breaks your concentration. Speak of the devil and he shall appear... Somehow, you know who it is before the door even opens. Call it intuition. 
The thick wooden door slides open, and the face of the person you've been avoiding appears. Your heart stops, and, for a second, you think you’ve mistaken a dream for reality. 
Hoseok is dressed in sweats and the university jersey, his hair pushed back beneath his snapback. Being familiar with his schedule, you suspect he’s come straight from practice. The dance studio he trains in is situated on the other side of campus, and judging by how sweat still clings to his brow, his face glowing with a sheen of perspiration, you surmise he must've rushed here right away.
No one makes a move. Time is suspended — seconds seem to stretch into minutes in front of your very eyes. Beneath this silence, there's a tension that lingers in the air, an awkwardness that was never present before.
"Hey." Hoseok has his hands buried deep in his pockets. He tries to sound casual, like nothing is out of the ordinary. 
It only confirms everything you've been thinking about for the last few days. The two of you tend to ignore the problem in the hopes that it will fade and disappear by itself. Still — he's here now, isn't he? That has to mean something. 
"Hi," you say back, but even to your own ears, the greeting sounds contrived. You wonder how long you’ll keep on dancing around the elephant in the room.
As much as you would rather not have this conversation, you know that you can’t keep running away from confrontation forever. This is why your relationship isn’t working in the first place; because the both of you have been turning a blind eye whenever any kind of problem arises. 
Now that you've acknowledge that there's an issue, will you really keep on ignoring it? How can you possibly keep pretending that all is okay when you feel the weight of all that was left unsaid pressing down on your shoulders?
Hoseok must feel it, too.
“Can we talk about this now? Or are you still mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you,” you clarify with a sigh, setting down your palette.
To this he raises a brow, evidently not convinced, “Well, how else am I supposed to interpret all the missed calls and unanswered messages? Would you have even talked to me if I hadn’t come here and sought you out?” Although he’s trying to stay levelheaded about this and speak calmly, you can detect traces of frustration slowly seeping into his speech. "If Kook hadn't told me where to find you, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you right now."
He leans his weight against the doorframe, his head tipping back as he lets out a frustrated exhale. The column of his neck is exposed to your stare, making it easy to spot the fading pink bruise you had left him near his chiseled jaw. "I don't blame you, if you are. But we should be talking this out, yeah? You never gave me the chance to explain the other night. Well— " He pauses, chewing his bottom lip as he measures his next words carefully. "That night, I didn't tell you everything so...I can understand why you would misunderstand. I don't know if I'm too late but I'd like to explain myself now."
“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I needed some space, but I needed time to think about...us.” A beat passes as you gather your thoughts. You’re thankful he doesn’t jump to conclusions right away and gives you the time to speak free of interruptions. "
“Did you work it out?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“Good. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us — especially about this. Yuna? She means nothing to me. Not even — we never… I’ve never hooked up with anyone else since we started being together. I know I don’t have the perfect reputation, so I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I’ve never cheated on you.”
“Hoseok, who is she?” The silent accusation is loud enough for him to flinch.
His tongue swipes over his dry lips. You expect him to give you a roundabout, vague answer that will only add fuel to the sparking fire.
After a moment of silent debate, he inhales deeply, choosing to stick to the truth. “We hooked up a few times over Christmas break before New Year’s. I thought we were on the same page, that those few times didn’t mean anything but good fun, and for a while Yuna didn’t do anything to make me think otherwise. Sometimes, one night stands think that they’re something more and it’ll complicate things, but Yuna was always chill."
Hoseok notices your expression and continues, "But ever since we started dating, I don’t know what’s gotten into her… No matter how many times I tell her I’m not interested, I can’t shake her off. There’s not much I can do but ignore her messages and leave her calls unanswered...”
“So…you’re telling me that she’s the one making passes at you? And that you can’t do anything but reject her over and over again…” Saying it out loud makes his explanation all the less believable.
“I know. I know it sounds like a weak ass argument. God, I’m sorry, you deserve better," he berates himself, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. "I wish that I could tell her to fuck off for good.”
“Then why can’t you? Isn’t this harassment? You have to tell her to stop! This isn’t okay, and I’m not just saying this because I’m dating you, or because I’m jealous or want you to myself or—” You inhale deeply, catching your breath before you continue, "This isn’t okay, Hoseok. If a guy kept sending me dick pics even when I clearly told him I wasn’t interested—"
“I know," he cuts off your rambling with an exasperated sigh. "I know and I try to avoid her when I can, I do, but she’s in the fucking Mayday Showcase. If she was any other fuck, I would set her straight, but I don’t want to pick a fight right now. Our teamwork already sucks as it is… The showcase means too much; I can’t let myself screw it up.”
“You’re not the one screwing anything up. If this is true, she shouldn’t be acting this unprofessional in the first place.”
“Yeah, but it’s also my fault for not following the rules. We’re not supposed to fool around with anyone on our team for this exact reason. I should've known something like this would happen.”
“So what? You’re going to let her come onto you until the year is over? How in the world does that help your teamwork?” You cross your arms, lips pursed in displeasure.
“What else am I supposed to do? Jun even told me to deal with it on my own. ‘Keep your side fucks in line’ is what he said. Crude, but he has a point. It’s my fault, right? As the saying goes, I've made my bed so now I have to lie in it."
“Jun’s a dumbass…" Shaking your head, you don't know who you're more annoyed with — Jun for giving the world's shittiest advice or Hoseok for accepting his words without protest. "No wonder the teamwork is shit, when you have him as your captain. Maybe you should take it up with your dance instructor instead. Surely they’ll intervene, right?”
“So they can, what, pull Yuna from the showcase? And mess with the dance formations? We’ve been practicing this for months, it’s not something so easily changeable. If that happens, it’ll take more effort to adjust and rearrange the choreo. Dance comes first, it always has. It’s all I have, you know? It's all I’m good at. If I lose this chance, then there won’t be anything left for me to do.” He trails off, his eyes fixing a stain on the wall with feigned interest. He tries to mask his discomfort but you can see right through his act. It's not often Hoseok divulges his inner thoughts and insecurities; he probably feels embarrassed and regrets speaking too much.
A pause laden with tension follows, filling the empty void between the two of you, as you try to make sense of what he said. You're momentarily at a loss for words. Normally, you would provide gentle words of encouragement, but this time they get stuck in your throat. You still don't know whether or not to buy his explanation. It would be so easy to give him the benefit of the doubt and just go back to how things were in the past...
"Don’t get me wrong." The silence is finally broken with an awkward cough. "I don't care about Yuna; I don’t even consider her a friend. But I can deal with it. It’s a major pain in the ass, but I can deal with it."
You nod, not sure who he's trying to convince — you or himself. What is that even supposed to mean? Is he doing you a favor by letting this girl send him pictures of her in various states of undress? Mina’s words of warning ring through your head again, reminding you not to let him take you for a fool.
“I… I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have told me this earlier,” is what you say about a bout of silence. “Why did you have to hide this from me? Don’t you think this is just a little bit important?”
“I guess I… It sounds dumb, but I didn’t want to ruin things between us. Things are stressful as fuck right now, but when I’m with you, I forget about all that for a while. For the short amount of time I get to spend with you, things become easier to swallow. No deadlines, no practice, no drama. But I don’t want to make up some lame excuse. It was wrong, I know I should’ve told you right away and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“Alright.” The curt reply is all you can manage. Talking has only made you more frustrated. So you’re just a stress reliever to him? That’s what he’s getting at right… What are you supposed to make of that? Does he expect you to be grateful?
The residual anger hasn’t washed away yet, and you feel the traces linger.
“So, we good?"
"Are we?” You’re tired of brushing things under the rug. “I don't think we've ever been good... I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and talking to Mina helped me straighten my thoughts out.”
Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from the confines of your chest. You can feel the thrum of your pulse in your throat. Hands curling into fists at your side, you try to steel yourself. 
“I...I thi— I think it's best if we break up."
“y/n…”
“What we have isn’t a relationship—”
“Is that what Mina said?” He scoffs, slightly mocking. 
“It’s what everyone is saying!” You throw your hands up, your pent up anger exploding. 
“And since when do they matter? They don’t know anything about us.” The exasperated look he shoots you only irritates you further.
“But are they wrong?” 
“Okay, fine." He huffs, his brows pulling into a frown. He continues the next sentence in the same heated breath, "Maybe things aren’t ideal between us. Maybe we aren’t perfect together. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the poster child for any 21st century romance. But since when are relationships supposed to be a smooth sailing? Throw those ideals out the window. The stuff you read about in books doesn’t exist."
The look of frustration he pins you with roots you to the spot. You can't remember the last time he's gotten so worked up over something. Pushing himself off the wall, he stalks over to you, closing the distance in three long strides.
"But you know what’s real?" Hoseok doesn't wait for your answer, "I don’t need other people telling me how I should feel. I know what’s real.”
For the first time since you've met him, the words aimed at you are harsh and scathing. It feels like he’s digging an accusatory finger up against your chest even though he isn’t touching you at all.
“How you feel?" You can't keep the incredulity out of your tone. Scoffing, you cross your arms in the hopes that you won’t waver. You need to be strong, you remind yourself.
"Please don’t try to convince me to stay when you don’t even love me. Do you — Do you even like me?"
"Do I even—?  That's not the issue. Of course I like you.” He looks horribly affronted by your underlying suggestion, the crease between his brows deepening. A wounded expression falls over his face then, and he suddenly avoids your gaze. “But I— You’re right... I don’t know if what I feel is love. But at least I can say that I’m trying. Are you really going to run away at the first sign of trouble? I don't know much, but I don't think that's how relationships work."
“You always claim that you’re not the ideal boyfriend, but I’m not perfect either… I’m selfish, and I want a lot more than I lead on.” Your cheeks burn scarlet as you toy with the hem of your sweater, trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment that comes with your admission. It’s the first time you’ve been so honest, and, honestly, it makes your stomach turn. “I’ve never liked someone like you, I’ve never… I’ve never liked someone as much as you, either. But I feel like I’m investing a lot of myself in a relationship that isn’t going to work out. And as much as I want to be with you, I’m scared that I’m going to end up with the short end of the stick.”
Hoseok repeats your name, one of his hands tentatively reaching up to cup your jaw. His eyes don’t leave yours, like he’s trying to silently communicate the feelings he’s unable to voice out. You fix the tall bridge of his nose instead, then his pink lips — anything but the chocolate brown of his eyes. You’re afraid you’ll end up projecting your own feelings...and the last thing you want is to interpret his look for something else. You don’t need the false hope. 
“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, thumb stroking your chin, your lips. “You’ve always deserved better. If you’re selfish then what am I?”
When his lips meet yours, your eyes have already fluttered closed in anticipation. If you gasp into his mouth, he’s quick to swallow down the sound before it can reach his ears. 
Your hands fist the collar of his shirt, pulling him down closer to match your height. Greedily, you drink him in. His mouth tastes like the familiar, sweet flavor of Wrigley’s juicy fruit gum and the bittersweet taste of finality. You realize then how much you have missed him — his touch, the scent of his cologne that clings to his clothes like fabric softener, the way his lips work against yours with the intent of pulling you apart from the very seams.
"Ah, fuck," he curses under his breath when you nip the underside of his jaw, your tongue soothing over the mark with kittenish licks. You reach to pull off your pink hoodie, discarding it somewhere on the floor. The thin tank top you have on underneath draws attention to your cleavage which Hoseok can’t resist venerating with his gaze.  
The art studio isn't a private space. On the contrary, anyone is free to walk in unannounced just like Hoseok had moments ago. But like every single one of your risky encounters in the past, this knowledge only fuels your arousal. The desire that sparks within you whenever he's around always wins out.
One day, your kinks will surely get you arrested, you think self-deprecatingly. Arrested or kicked out of school. The thought barely forms in your mind before Hoseok tilts your head to deepen the kiss, wiping out your train of thought. His lips dull your senses — or rather they make him your sole focus. Whenever you’re with him, you don’t realize how severe your tunnel vision is. Lost in the moment, all you can do is concentrate on the way he gently cradles your jaw between his palms. Heat blooms inside of your chest with every swipe of his tongue against yours until you can’t remember anything but his name.
Hoseok seems to sense your urgency; he reciprocates your advances, his grip tightening around your waist as he backs you up against the window. Your back hits the cold surface with a thud. A throbbing heat spreads at once, your body reacting to his like it’s been conditioned to do so, but the pain doesn't have time to register, not when he presses himself against you and you find yourself sandwiched between the glass panel and his toned body. 
He pulls back and levels you with a heated look, "You want it here?" 
Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours while waiting for your verbal assent. With the way his arms cage you in his hold, you find it impossible to look away from the expression of lust that paints his face in bold streaks. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid, you think to yourself, convinced that it'll hurt less if you just fuck him out of your system for good. Hoseok interprets your silence for uncertainty so he adds quietly, "You can always say no. It's okay."
"I want this." Your answer spills from your swollen lips, too quickly for your liking, revealing your desire for the man in front of you. Having nothing left to hide, you decide to drop all prior pretences. "I always want you."
It's a truth you don't like to admit but can't bring yourself to deny. How can you pretend any differently? You've always been too honest about your intentions and your feelings, ignoring the warnings from your sister to never wear your heart on your sleeve. Although you understand the need to protect yourself from heartbreak and disappointment, you would rather experience that then live through a cycle of regrets and 'What If's'.
Hoseok's features soften at your admission, his thumbs hooking themselves in the loops of your jeans. Silently, he draws you closer still, your bodies perfectly intertwined, like two puzzle pieces slotting to make a match. Only a few layers of clothing separate you from him — you're so close you swear you can feel the drumming of his heart against your right breast.
From this close, you can't help but notice how the fire in his eyes is now smoldering rather than scorching. Sometimes the heat of his passion is so intense you feel like you'll combust into a mess of flames and smoke. If Hoseok is the sun, you are the fool who can't resist singeing her wings. But this way, it's bearable, you think to yourself, his darkened gaze making you slowly melt into a puddle instead.
"You're so good to me." His breath grazes your skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he stares you down. A thumb traces the curvature of your bottom lip like a sculptor admiring a finished masterpiece. "My good girl."
The words sear through you, no longer providing the comfort they used to. But the ache they leave in their wake is momentary, your mind refusing to dwell on the painful feeling.
Hoseok’s ministrations help distract you. Deft fingers inch under your shirt, caressing your supple flesh as gently as a bamboo brush sets ink to paper. The drag of his digits across the canvas of your skin is feather-light, almost hesitant, and you suspect this is Hoseok's way of making sure you truly want this as much as he does before going any further.
When you don't immediately back out or push him away, he pulls your top down far enough to expose your bra-clad chest, and cups your breasts over the last strip of fabric until you’re moaning against his mouth. The skimpy lace material leaves you vulnerable to his every ministratio — the soft squeezes of his hands on your mounds and the heel of his palm rubbing into you to provide delicious friction — and you can confidently affirm that no other man knows how to get you as riled up as he does. Hoseok is so familiar with your body that he could probably find each of your weak spots blindfolded. He uses this knowledge to his advantage, immediately honing his attention on your sensitive nipples, his thumb dragging over the lace covered buds until they're stiff and aching.
"A-ah, Hobi please..." Your tongue molds the words with familiarity, so used to begging for him.
"I know you enjoy that. Are you getting wet for me? Hmm, not yet?" He pinches you through the lace, the fabric chaffing your sore nipples. Your body jolts, breasts bouncing in his hands as he continues to play with your swollen buds. You have to swallow down your moan, unable to articulate the traitorous thoughts running through your mind. The longer this pleasurable torture continues, the more your body yearns for more. Still, you refuse to give in completely, wanting to test how long Hoseok could hold back.
Whenever you played this particular waiting game, victory had never been on your side. Not because Hoseok was unaffected — but because your desperation eventually became too much to tolerate.  
But expressing your desire through lidded eyes is a challenge; Hoseok chooses that moment to trace the slope of your neck with his lips, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, hidden from you. You tug the hairs at the nape of his neck, trying to make eye contact again but he doesn’t let you steer him away from his goal.
Hoseok presses each kiss onto your skin slowly, with purpose, as if you had all the time in the world to indulge in each other.
Why is he acting like this right now? Your teeth catch your lip in their hold out of sheer frustration. Each delicate print of his lips on your body reminds you of what you can't have, and your heart aches, heavy in your chest. The soft material of his jersey crinkles under your grip as you try to keep yourself upright and composed. You hate it, the way he his tender touch sparks something inside of you, chipping away at your resolve.
Over his shoulder, the clock on the wall catches your attention, and your spine straightens as reality sinks in.
"Hoseok," you tug insistently at the collar of his shirt in your attempt to remind him you were both short on time.
"Mmm, be patient." His teeth nip your ear lobe to accentuate his command.
"But we don't have—"
"If you want me inside your cunt, I want you nice and wet for me. Wait a little longer, okay? Be good." His sickly sweet smile is a hoax; it tells you right away that he's taking the utmost delight in making you squirm in his hold. Upon noticing the glare you sport, the corner of his lips quirk into a smug smirk, confirming your suspicions.
Patience is not your strong suit. On normal days, Hoseok is usually kind enough to cut to the chase, but for some unexplainable reason, he seems to want to draw this out.
Slow sex is welcome on lazy Sunday mornings, under the cover of thin sheets, in the privacy of your room. It's not convenient nor desired when you are running late for afternoon lectures, and even less so when the place you're trying to get it on is an empty classroom anyone is free to walk into. Of all the locations for a quick romp, it had to be the fucking art studio…
You know that if you want him to fast-forward the maddening pace he's set you need to lead the game. Hoseok knows your body inside out — but the same could be said for you; you know what makes him tick, what gets him unbearably hot under the collar, which cards to use to get his heart pounding.
Jutting your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, you lower your voice into a sultry purr "B-but I'm dripping already." You almost tack on the word 'Daddy' for good measure, but you aren’t in the mood to play that game today. You don’t want him to be sweet or caring; you don’t want to trust him blindly anymore. All you want is to wash him out of your system as painlessly as possible. 
If Hoseok doesn't react verbally to your confession, you don't let that deter you. The rigid muscles under your clutch tell you that you've hit your mark.
“It’s not the same without you,” you continue, lust making you shameless. “I need you.”
You’re scared to acknowledge how much truth there is to these words. Deep down, you know they’re spot on, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You don’t want to be dependent on him, not for your pleasure nor anything else.
Thankfully, Hoseok doesn’t let you linger on those thoughts for too long. He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs, pulling your underwear along with the denim. Material barriers now gone, a breeze of cool air caresses your exposed skin. 
“You’re right,” he smirks, thumbing over the incriminating wet patch on your panties. You can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, too impatient to get it on. One of his hands reaches past the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls out his hardened member, the thickness making your mouth go dry with desire. 
“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders as he picks you up by the meat of your thighs, the prints of his fingertips digging into your skin. You loop your arms around his neck like a lifeline; breath caught in your throat as he positions your hips over his erection. 
“Oh fuck,” you groan, feeling the head stretch out your walls as he pushes himself in inch by inch. You’re lubricated enough so that it isn’t painful, but there’s no dismissing the way his girth slowly works you open. However, the uncomfortable sensation quickly melts away and leaves room for pleasure.
The week you haven’t been with him feels like a month, and your body is eager to make up for lost time. 
“God,” he moans, brow creased, evidently as affected as you. His nostrils flare, muscles in his neck tensing, and he shudders when you clench around him without warning. Sweat drips down the side of his face, the tiny beads of perspiration making his skin glisten under the late afternoon sun. Your eyes drink this sight in, subconsciously trying to commit every minute detail of his face to memory. 
His hands keep you pinned against the wall as he works his hips against yours in careful strokes. You can feel the delicious drag of his cock inside of you as he pushes in and out, your body adjusting to the gentle rocking. He buries his head in the hollow of your neck, mouthing at the spots he knows make your knees buckle. 
"Always feels good with you." You almost miss the way he murmurs the praise against your shoulder blades. It's delivered so quietly, you can barely hear it over the hammering in your chest and the roaring in your ears, and you wonder if he means for it to reach you. The words aren’t said for an added kick or for show, you realize. 
"I want it d-deeper."  
He's already giving it to you so good; the fluidity of his movements, the way he angles his hips into yours and keeps your legs hoisted up around his middle — all of it a lethal combination intended to make you scream out his name. But desperation claws at you — you need more, need the pleasure to numb all other distracting thoughts. You want to overindulge until you’re so full from pleasure that you’ll never need to come back for seconds.
"Yeah? No one can give it to you like me. You love it when I fuck you out," he rasps, the sound rough around the edges. A whine leaves your parted lips when he lifts you back down onto unsteady feet. His hands slip down to your waist, keeping you stable as he turns you around so that your back faces him. “Turn around for me. That’s good, yeah—right against the window.”
Wobbling only slightly, you brace yourself against the windowpane, the position all too familiar. Except now, when you look down, you can see a swarm of students below, some walking to their next class, others sprawled across the freshly mowed lawn as they try to bathe in the last rays of afternoon sunshine. From the fourth floor window, you’re capable of distinguishing their faces if you squint, so you’re sure that if they happen to look up, they’ll be able to spot you, too. Even though the glass panel only exposes your face and the peak of your cleavage, you know any student who catches a glimpse at you whilst in the throes of passion won’t be duped into thinking otherwise. 
Eyes blown to comically wide proportions, your pulse kick-starts at the thought of someone observing you from below. Your breaths come out in short pants, and you can physically feel shivers run down your spine. Hoseok’s hand is steady on your waist, grounding you. 
“If you want to stop at any time, just tell me, okay?”  
“Just go,” you gasp, breath fogging up the window. 
Hoseok heeds your words of advice, not wasting any additional time as he lines up his slick shaft along your weeping entrance. When he pushes into you, your mouth parts to let out a high-pitched moan of pleasure. It’s only now that he’s stretching you out that you realize how much you’ve missed this, craved this. 
With one hand groping your left breast and the other tight on your hip, he fucks up into you, his hips slamming into yours from behind. He quickly abandons the slow, languid pace from before, his thrusts now rough, fueled by the need to reach his end. 
The lewd sounds that echo in the studio could alert anybody standing outside the door of what you’re doing. You wonder who is most likely to find out what you’re up to — a person walking by in the hallway or a student down below. With the way he’s fucking you, there’s no way of knowing.
It’s a miracle no one’s caught on yet. Not that you would have noticed them. Every piston of his hips makes your skin flush, perspiration making your shirt stick to your torso. His cock feels so good inside you — like it was meant for you — and you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions, your arousal evident with each mewl of pleasure to spill from your lips. 
“Is it wrong that I want them to see?” Hoseok breathes into the shell of your eat, the hot air making you shiver. Your mind ruses to supply the image his words conjure up and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on his hard cock. “I want them to know that I own this pussy. They’ll take one look at us and know they’d never compare.”
His words make you tip your head back and you’re weak to resist the way his tongue finds your own, fucking your mouth to match the steady rhythm of his hips. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart on his twitching cock, not when he knows how to please you so well. Hoseok’s pace falters as he feels your walls try to milk his cock. He ruts into you, swiveling his hips as far as he can go, his fingers bruising against your skin. He chokes your name between grunts before emptying his seed inside of you in thick spurts.
When your beating hard slows down enough for it to be bearable, your fingers twitch against their position on the wall, yearning to reach down and keep Hoseok inside of you. He pulls out almost too soon for your liking, leaving you truly empty with only traces of semen running down your inner thighs. 
It’s ironic...or maybe it’s fate, you think to yourself as you pull up your jeans, skin sticky with sweat and bodily fluids. 
You and Hoseok have finally come full circle, it seems. You started your relationship with Hoseok with sex and you ended it the same way. A relationship built on sex isn’t meant to last long. 
“I’ll see you around?” Hoseok says awkwardly. It’s strange seeing him at a loss. With you, he’s always taken the lead, so self-assured and experienced. The timid, unsure image of him in front of you makes you soften and grant him a small smile.
“Of course,” you humor, knowing the words are said for formality’s sake. Now that you aren’t dating or having sex, there’s no reason to bump into each other. Your classes aren’t on the same side of campus and you run with different circle of friends. 
Hoseok opens his mouth to say more but ends up swallowing his thoughts and keeping them to himself. You know the feeling. No matter what you try to tell yourself, you know that it won’t be that easy to move on — for you or for him. It’s only a matter of time before both of you somehow find a way back to each other. 
Unbeknownst to the both of you, the figure leaning against the oak tree readjusts his cap, dark eyes never leaving the window where your figure was pressed up just moments ago.
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pennywrithe · 7 years ago
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AN EYE FOR AN EYE a/n; this was requested by anonymous, Pennywise seeing the reader get bullied by Bowers. I quite enjoyed doing this, thanks for requesting! warnings: mentions of bullying, none that I can think of. 
“Pennywise, darling, listen to me. I’m fine, this is a common occurrence and if I ignore him he just gives up and leaves me alone. Honestly, I bruise easily so when he nudges me too hard and pushes me into a wall I get huge bruises like this! I’m begging you, don’t kill him. Yeah, he’s a shitty kid but he does it due to boredom half of the time and to look impressive to his only friends. Plus, his family’s pretty rough so they’re partly to blame for his behaviour.” You wrung your hands together nervously as you watched the towering frame of the clown throw things around in the sewer system, screaming insults and threats directed at Bowers. This had gone on for some time and you were desperately trying to reason with him and calm him down but nothing seemed to be working; a deep sigh left your throat as you dragged your hands over your tired features. “He hurt you.” Was all he replied, his voice a deep hiss as he stared at you through hooded lids, baring his now sharp teeth in a snarl. Mental images of you sobbing and screaming for him and his crew to release you and leave you be came to his mind as another wave of rage washed over him and he bellows once more, grabbing the nearest piece of furniture and smashing it to pieces.
Henry Bowers had been the source of your torment for the past few months and you had managed to keep it hidden from Pennywise, knowing he would go ballistic if he found out and you were correct with that assumption. The changing seasons of Derry came with a dramatic mood shift for you, days were getting colder and shorter as darkness arrived earlier in the day and your studies prevented you from being able to see your Jester sooner. After what felt like one of the longest days of the year, you were finally free to enjoy what little time was left in the day before night fell. Weaving in and out of the crowds of people, your eyes shift rapidly as you look for any signs of Bowers and his gang, desperately wanting to evade them. 
It’s a shame how life has other plans for you, my dear. It didn’t take long for the bullies to find you and begin their usually routine of name calling, pushing and shoving and spouting threats as you bit your tongue and try to ignore their behaviour, knowing that once you climbed into the sewer system they would probably leave you alone due to the stench that came from within those tunnels. The gap between you and the group got bigger until you could no longer hear their words nor their footsteps. Stopping to rest at a nearby tree, the sound of rushing water calms your anxiety and you take a deep breath and relax, daring to ghost a smile onto your blush lips. All is shattered when a force slams against your back and you’re sent tumbling down the remainder of the hill, coming to a stop just near the entrance to your lover’s lair. Unbeknownst to you and the tormenting gang, Pennywise had witnessed the whole thing. Hiding in the shadows, he watched angrily as Bowers charged into you and cackled as you went flying down the hill, chasing after you and straddling you from behind – pushing your face into the murky water that swept over the jagged rocks in the Barrons. The idiots that followed him insulted you as they pinned your legs and arms to the ground so you were defenceless; like a rabbit caught in a snare. Watching the one he loved in so much pain sparked a feeling inside him that he had never felt before and he knew there and then he had to rip this child to shreds, scattering his remains for the whole of Derry to find. Maybe even leave his head on a spike at the entrance to the town. “Pennywise!” You snapped, finally getting his attention as he looked up at you. “Look, meet me halfway here. You can do what you like to him, but don’t kill him. Scare him a little, it’s probably what that boy needs; or a kick up the ass.” He snorted at this before sauntering over to you, wrapping your delicate frame in his warm embrace. “Oh don’t you worry, my little doll. I’ll make him feel a fear no man has ever felt before, I’ll make sure he never puts his hands on you ever again and if he does I’ll tear off every finger with my teeth.” Rocking you back and forth, you rolled your eyes at his statement but this didn’t make you feel any more comfortable about the situation because you knew he was telling the truth but if this is what it takes to put that bully in his place, then so be it. Having a deranged, psychotic alien for a partner had its perks sometimes. 
Haunting screams of anguish mangled with gleeful laughter fill the autumn air in the forest of Derry, a young man – if he can be called that – and a twisted performer are currently tangled together in a twisted dance of mind torture. Each time the elongated jaws of the clown hover above the man’s neck he lets out another cry of terror, begging and pleading with the creature to let him go and to leave him alone. This delights the clown to no end and he mock the teen’s tone, copying and repeating everything he says. A gloved fist pummels into the ground inches away from the victim’s head, leaves and branches cracking beneath the force of the punch as his free hand snakes it’s way around the hooligan’s throat. “You put your dirty fingers on my precious doll again, staining and tainting it with your touch and I will drag you to your grave, laughing all the way as you kick and scream and beg for mercy. You have been warned, my child. Ohoho! This has been the most fun. Now, run along before I show you how we all float down here, Henry.” The pitch in his voice is erratic as he stares into the wide eyes of Henry Bowers, his own eyes glowing a vibrant shade and drool leaking from his mouth as he inhales the fear that radiates from him. What a delight it is to see a paper man crumble. The clown roars with laughter as he mockingly points at Bowers in his attempt to flee, forest debris getting caught among his stumbling feet as he scrambles away from Pennywise. Oh, how he would have loved to have done so much more things to that nasty piece of work. Normally, Pennywise wasn’t one for getting caught up in human affairs; if anything, he spurred them on or mocked them half of the time if he was a witness but this time It was different, it involved you being hurt. Well, at least he kept his promise. He didn’t kill him.
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