#when it's just her and a yawning eternity does she exhaust her memories of him? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butterflyyeo · 3 years

Text

drunk in love

pairing - yeosang x fem reader

genre - fluff, angst (?)

tw - lots of alcohol consumption, swearing

wc - 10k

side ships - seongjoong, yungi

a/n -- was meant to be angst but turned into fluff... im trying my best to get better at writing angst aaaah. but please enjoy this for now <3 thanks for letting me tag you @iminchaosnow !!

------------------------------------------- you had known kang yeosang for nearly two years now. two, dreadfully slow and exhausting years.it was your final year of high school when he transferred to your school, he was a close family friend of wooyoung's. his parents had spoken highly of the school, insisting that yeosang transfers in order to excel for his last year of schooling. as far as you were concerned, he had decent grades, but he preferred to spend his time hanging around the skatepark after dark, when everyone else had left.

and in all the two years you'd known him, you had never once had a full conversation with him, despite being in your group of friends. his side of the 'conversation' usually consisted of monotonous 'yeahs' and 'mhms'. wooyoung constantly assured you it was because he's shy and that he'd eventually open up. but you weren't convinced. you tried so hard for him to like you, but your efforts were fruitless. it was infuriating, feeling like you were constantly doing something wrong whenever you were around him.

you currently found yourself in the backseat of yeosang's car, wedged between a drunken yunho and mingi while a chaotic wooyoung was singing along to his chosen playlist. (though, it sounded more like wailing.)

you and the eight boys had all decided to take a gap year, spend every last cent you earned on adventure and alcohol to make lifelong memories, before your careers became a blockade in your friendship. but the year was coming to an end soon, it was already mid november. on the bright side, that meant your favourite holidays were just weeks away.

yeosang was always the designated driver. that was something you had noticed about him over the last few years. to be honest, you weren't sure just how he coped with a screeching wooyoung, because you sure as hell weren't dealing very well with yunho and mingi who were playing a very intense game of rock paper scissors to decide who would be crashing on the couch in your apartment.

"i win!" mingi cheered, waving his hands excitedly. "you're on the couch, man."

yunho frowned, "damn."

you laughed, "it's okay, yunho. you can share the bed with me if you'd like."

"hey! that's not fair y/n! you said i could this time." wooyoung whined from the front seat.

"sorry, woo. you know i keep my promises, but you're going back to your apartment. remember?" you tried to reason.

wooyoung looked as though someone had switched a lightbulb on behind his eyes, "oh yeah! i forgot."

the four of you burst into laughter, mainly caused by the alcohol and partially because of wooyoung's realisation. and still, yeosang didn't crack a smile, hands just gripping the steering wheel tighter as his knuckles turned white.

soon, you arrived outside your apartment block, quickly stepping out the car after yunho. wooyoung wound his window down and you poked your head in, attempting to hug him goodbye.

"bye woo!" you said, giggling at your faltered farewell.

"good night y/n, thanks for the drinks!" he shouted, exclaiming a bit too loudly next to your ear.

"thanks for the lift as always, yeosang!" you yelled, pulling away from wooyoung's tight hug.

he nodded, "no problem." before putting the window up and driving away.

you pouted, turning around to face the two boys. "i just don't understand what i'm doing wrong." you buried your face into your hands, "why doesn't he like me?" you groaned.

"y/n." mingi began, "its nearly 1am, its way too late for this 'why does yeosang hate me?' crap." he shook your shoulders, literally trying to shake some sense into you.

"yeah, mingi's right. we've had this discussion a thousand times." yunho said grasping your wrist and pulling you up the stairs, stumbling along the way. (because lets be real, stairs are difficult enough as it is, let alone when drunk.) "now, let us into your apartment so we can eat your food and crash on your couch!" he joked, nudging mingi in a playful manner.

you reached into your pocket and fumbled around with they key for a moment before unlocking the door. the boys practically pushed you inside and made a beeline for the fridge.

"help yourselves! i'm going to shower." you called, dragging yourself to your bedroom.

once you'd finished showering you went back to the living room to check on yunho and mingi. not so much to your surprise, they had fallen asleep on your couch already, cuddled up into each other. it was cute, even picture worthy to show their sober selves. you reached for your phone which typically lived in your pocket, though you began to panic when it wasn't there. hurrying around the apartment, you searched every possible nook and cranny for your phone, but it was nowhere to be found. you collapsed onto your bed, snuggling into the soft sheets, too tired to worry about your phone anymore and content with the assumption that you'd left it in yeosang's car.

shortly, your heavy eyes fell shut and you began to sleep away the tequila.

————————

the next morning you awoke to mingi and yunho's deep, hungover voices, discussing their plans for the next week.

you reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed and dawdled down the hallway.

"ah! there's our favourite karaoke partner!" yunho greeted, jokingly.

you laughed, "shh, don't let wooyoung hear you say that."

"she's right, man. he'd be so offended." mingi said, stretching out his sore limbs. "how are you feeling today, y/n?" he asked.

"not the worst hangover i've had. what about you guys? you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, until you feel better." you replied, knowing them well enough to know that they'd need at least a few painkillers and a good meal before they went home.

yunho chuckled, "i feel like crap, but nothing a sandwich and glass of water can't solve."

"i second that." mingi said, raising a hand.

"okay, well in that case, i'll go to the store and get something for breakfast. sound good?" you reasoned, running a hand through your hair. you loved these boys, and making them breakfast was just a nice way of showing you cared. drunk or not, they knew how to make you smile and laugh, which they loved to see.

"sounds amazing!" yunho said, breaking into a sincere smile.

you quickly changed out of your pyjamas and slipped some shoes on.

"i might be a bit longer, i need to stop by yeosang's. i think i left my phone in his car." you explained, picking your keys up from the kitchen counter. "see you guys soon! feel free to take a shower if you want." you said, waving goodbye and heading out the door.

"okay, bye y/n!" the boys called from behind you.

the first stop was yeosang's apartment, he only lived about ten minutes away with wooyoung and san, in the same building as jongho. both yunho and mingi lived on the other side of town, which is why they so often crashed at your place after parties. seonghwa and hongjoong were fortunate enough to live in a house, just outside town, they had actually been the hosts of last night's party.

it didn't take long to get there. you pushed open the lobby door and made your way over to the elevator, disappointed to see that it was out of order for maintenance. instead, you took the stairs and began spiralling upwards. less than a minute later you looked up, only to bump into the man you came looking for.

"oh, yeosang! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to." you quickly apologised, worried about creating another reason for him to dislike you.

"it's fine." he shrugged.

you both began to talk again at the same time, "ah, sorry, you go."

"i was just gonna say, you left your phone in my car. actually, i was about to bring it back." he pulled your phone from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to you. as he did, your fingers brushed against his. he spun around suddenly and began to walk away, "i'll see you around."

he had left before you even had a chance to thank him. slightly confused and frustrated, you turned back around and traipsed down the stairs.

you gathered what you needed for a hearty breakfast at the local convenience store before heading home and spending the rest of the day in the enjoyable company of yunho and mingi.

yeosang had entered back into his apartment and sat down on the couch.

"back already?" wooyoung asked, rummaging through the fridge.

"she was coming to get her phone and i ran into her on the staircase."

wooyoung sighed, "when are you gonna stop hating her?"

"i don't hate her." yeosang said, not looking up from his phone.

"then why do you act like you do?"

yeosang pretended to not hear that question and continued to scroll through his phone. see, he'd rather not dwell on things that he couldn't understand.

————————

to fill up your weekdays during your gap year, you had picked up a job at a hotel in town as a receptionist. to your dismay, your boss had asked you to work night shift all week, which is how you found yourself here on thursday night, sitting alert and waiting for the slight chance that someone might check in at this time of night. it was a pretty fancy hotel, and the job payed well enough, so really, you had nothing to complain about.

the nights seemed to drag on for an eternity. to keep yourself busy, you often wasted time counting the cars that drove past, or tried to count the number of crystals that hung from the chandelier. so far, only a few people had checked in during your shift, having come from overseas and recently arriving at the airport. honestly, whenever someone walked through the front door, lugging a suitcase behind them, you got excited as it gave you something to do.

the clock was creeping up to 4am and you let out a quiet yawn, feeling drowsy as your body clock hadn't yet adjusted to the change of sleeping patterns on such short notice. taking a sip of water, you shook your head, trying to stay awake. your head suddenly jolted up at the sound of the front door opening.

a man stumbled forward, and you'd seen enough zombie movies to become instantly paranoid. you quickly pushed the thought out of your head, feeling ridiculous for even considering it. but as the man got closer, you could smell the cheap, potent alcohol lingering on his body.

he leant against the desk, peering down at you. "i need a room for the night." he grumbled. "my stupid wife kicked me out." he said under his breath.

you forced a friendly smile, despite feeling uneasy, "of course! i just need you to fill in this form with some simple details." you said, sliding across a clipboard and a pen.

he huffed, picking up the pen and scribbling onto the sheet of paper before pushing it back to you. "can i go now?"

"just a moment, sir." you replied, eyes skimming over the form as you copied the information into the computer in front of you.

the man was growing impatient, stepping from foot to foot with his arms crossed.

"uh, sir, you missed a part of the form. could you please provide your phone number here." you pointed to the empty space on the sheet.

"for fucks sake." he muttered, "i don't have my phone on me and i don't know my phone number." he said, annoyedly tapping on the desk.

"i'm really sorry, sir, but—"

"can't you just find me a fucking room?" he snapped, hands balled into fists and slamming against the desk, making you jump in fright.

before you had time to try and reason with him, he continued to shout.

"you're as stupid as my wife! i'll just find a different fucking hotel." he yelled, swiping the clipboard and pen off the desk. "useless bitch." he mumbled as he kicked over a chair on his way out.

you chewed your bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears. with shaky hands, you picked up your phone and dialled the first place that came to mind. after a few rings, the phone answered.

"woo?" you croaked, trying hard to not cry.

"he's asleep. this is yeosang." he replied, evidently having just woken up by the sound of his voice.

"oh." you began, instantly feeling guilty for waking him up, "i'm sorry i didn't mean to disturb you."

"did you need something?" he asked.

"i just, i was..." you let out a sob, wiping at a tear falling from your eye.

this didn't go unnoticed by yeosang, "are you crying? what are you doing awake right now anyway?"

"i'm at work." you managed to choke out.

"at 4am?"

"i'm on night shift."

"why are you crying then?" he asked, feeling something slightly tug at his heart, but choosing to ignore it.

you began to ramble, "a man came in and he was really drunk and complaining about his wife and then he yelled at me because i asked him to give his phone number and—"

"i'm on my way." yeosang cut you off.

"what?"

"i'll be there in ten." with that, he hung up the phone.

exactly ten minutes later, you were sat in the passenger seat of yeosang's car. he was dressed in sweats, clearly having come straight from bed. you'd left a note on the desk, explaining to your coworker why you wouldn't be there when she arrived to take over your shift. a silence filled the car, and you felt the need to talk, but chose not to, worried about giving yeosang another reason to hate you.

once you arrived outside your apartment building, you were surprised that yeosang got out the car too and trailed closely behind you up the stairs to your apartment. when you reached the door you spun around to face him.

"thank you for bringing me home." you said, voice quiet and still rather shaken up.

"it's no problem. good night, y/n." he replied, sensing that you were still upset. he suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you tightly and not let go until you stopped crying. he wanted to protect you from every drunk idiot on the planet. he wanted to make you feel safe.

but instead, he watched as you closed the door behind you and locked it from inside.

————————

you arrived at work the next morning, instantly feeling more comfortable with cleaners, employees and people coming and going. immediately, you headed for your boss's office.

"good morning, sir. i just wanted to come and apologise for leaving my shift early last night. i can assure you it won't happen again." you said, feeling nervous as to what your boss might say.

he shook his head, "i should be the one apologising, a man came in this morning and spoke very sternly about the safety problems here. i realise now how stupid it was of me to make you work night shift, alone, at such a young age. we've hired security guards and have also made sure that two people will be on desk at all times. i'm sorry that you had to deal with that."

you were at a loss for words, you didn't think that there would be such drastic changes just from the once incident. "thank you so much." you replied.

"for now, take the rest of the day off. you'll only be working day shifts for next week and can return to doing night shifts whenever you feel ready to do so." your boss said, motioning for the door.

the rest of the day you spent in deep sleep, catching up on some much overdue rest.

———————

weeks passed and you found that work was much more enjoyable. you still hadn't returned to working night shifts, but at least now you had someone to run the front desk with you and keep you company.

this weekend, you were going to visit hongjoong and seonghwa. hongjoong was sick and so you decided to go help out since seonghwa couldn't always be there to look after him.

you knocked on their front door and was surprised to be greeted by san.

"good afternoon! come in." he gave you a hug before ushering you inside.

"what are you doing here?" you said, following him down the hall.

in the living room, you saw all eight of the boys gathered around a couch-ridden hongjoong.

"jongho was already here when me, yeosang and woo arrived." san explained.

"yeah, and then mingi and yunho turned up." wooyoung continued.

"y/n! i have never been more glad to see you! you gotta save me from them." hongjoong laughed, arms open, signalling for a hug.

you went over and embraced him in a hug, "good thing i brought an excessive amount of cookies." you said, placing the box of cookies on the coffee table next to the couch. the table was covered in empty mugs and bowls, you could tell seonghwa had been busy and hadn't had the chance to clean up. you opened up the box and handed him a cookie before offering them around to the rest of the boys.

"you're the best cook ever." mingi said, taking a big bite.

"i made you spaghetti last night!" yunho countered, feeling offended that his roommate didn't think he was the better cook. mingi just laughed and took another bite.

"jongho get off the counter, please." seonghwa said, coming through the front door. "don't be so comfortable, you were throwing up in my toilet like a month ago." he joked.

yeosang glanced your way, his eyebrows furrowed like he was contemplating something.

"lets head off and give these two some space." yunho said, dragging mingi behind him.

wooyoung stood up, "yeah, lets get going."

yeosang pulled his keys from his pocket, "okay, bye guys." he said, heading down the hallway.

"can we get some food on the way home?" you heard san call as they left.

"bye hongjoong! i hope you're feeling better soon." jongho said, "bye seonghwa, i promise i won't throw up in your toilet any time soon." he joked, leaving through the front door.

"seonghwa, how are you? don't forget to take some time for yourself as well." you frowned.

"i'm tired, but i'll be okay. i just gotta clean up and—"

"why don't you go rest a while? i can keep hongjoong company for a few hours." you reasoned, wanting to help as much as possible. there was nothing you hated more than seeing you friends in distress and upset.

he looked between hongjoong and yourself, "i couldn't."

hongjoong let out an audible huff, "hwa! will you just let her help please, she clearly wants to."

you grinned, "exactly, now go read or sleep or watch some tv or something." you said, gently pushing him towards their shared bedroom.

you spent the afternoon tidying up and talking with hongjoong. you managed to do all the dishes and put them away before scouring their kitchen, deciding on what you could use for dinner. you found everything you needed for a decent meal and began cooking it up. hongjoong had dozed off mid conversation, surrounded in a pile of tissues, you chose to let him sleep so he would recover quicker.

about an hour later, you placed two steamy hot meals onto their dining table next to two full glasses of water. you quietly knocked on their bedroom door, finding seonghwa asleep amongst the covers.

you gently shook him awake, "hwa, i made dinner for you guys. you can wake joong up, i'll head off now." you said with a smile.

leaving the two of them to enjoy their dinner, you headed home and cooked yourself something to eat. it was nice having some time to yourself, but saturday nights were becoming more and more empty as winter grew closer. december was only days away and the year would soon come to an end. you reached for the phone, suddenly desperately missing your friends despite only seeing them hours ago.

"hey woo, are you free next weekend?" you asked.

he paused a moment, "i think so, why?"

"you wanna go out with the others? it's been a while since we have all caught up for drinks."

"count me in!" wooyoung cheered.

you called everyone else up and they all agreed, even hongjoong promised to come if he was feeling better.

————————

you found yourself surrounded by wooyoung, san, yunho and mingi as the music blared. it was a less popular club on the far side of town but it was a comfortable place for you all. you often came here for drinks and the staff members knew you, quite well, a little too well. san grabbed your hand and spun you around a few times with the music.

you laughed, leaning against him, "maybe spinning around isn't the best idea right after two shots of vodka."

"what?" san yelled into your ear, struggling to hear you over the music.

you laughed louder, pulling him closer to you, "i said, spinning is not a good idea after drinking vodka!"

"oh!" he joined you in laughing before trying to twirl you around once more.

hongjoong and seonghwa sat at the bar, holding hands and being intimate as always. yeosang was sat next to jongho at a booth, quietly talking with him, but from the corner of your eye, you saw jongho stand up and walk away. your eyes watched him worriedly and you couldn't help but run after him. you followed him as best you could, stumbling every now and then. he'd gone to the bathroom so you patiently waited outside until he came back, looking slightly pale.

you practically leapt at him, doing a quick scan to make sure he was okay, "jongho? are you alright?"

he smiled at your overwhelming concern, "yeah, i just drank too much as usual. i'll be alright, you can go back to dancing."

"let me just get you some water first. i'll be right back okay?" you patted his shoulder. "don't go anywhere i'll be back in a second."

you made your way back to where jongho had been sitting with yeosang. as you approached, yeosang eyed you up and down, taking in your drunken state, though, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you this way. you nearly tripped as you reached the table, struggling to walk in heels.

"i need a glass of water, do you have a glass of water? jongho needs a glass of water." you mumbled to yourself, reaching for the jug in the center of the table.

"are you okay?" yeosang asked, quickly pushing your hand away from the jug.

"i'm okay, but jongho needs water. can i take this cup? he's waiting for me, i told him not to go anywhere, i need to get back to jongho—" you tried to pick up a glass but yeosang pressed your hand back down once more.

"i'll take it to him, you stay here." he said, filling the cup full with water and heading towards the bathrooms.

your brain suddenly felt fuzzy and your eyes became blurry, it was like the alcohol hit your system all at once. your head spun round and round and you leaned forward, resting your hands on your head. you'd never felt this sick from drinking, maybe you'd had too much too quickly, maybe it was the spinning. there was no way to tell, all you knew was that you felt like you were about to fall from the top of a very high roller coaster.

your eyes felt increasingly heavy, you allowed them to slip shut, head falling to the table with a not so gentle thud.

"y/n?" someone shook you, "y/n wake up!" it was wooyoung.

"shit, is she okay? should we call an ambulance?" jongho said, reaching for his phone.

"is she breathing? has anyone checked?" seonghwa gently lifted your shoulders and sat you upright, relieved to see the rise and fall of your chest. "we should call a taxi and get her home."

"are you crazy? she's unconscious, she won't be able to get up the stairs to her apartment! what if the driver is dodgy? she's already had to deal with shitty men while working night shift, imagine if something happened while she's drunk!" yeosang blurted out. the boys were shocked over his sudden concern for you. yeosang had never once shown any interest or care for you in the presence of them.

"well, what should we do then?" mingi asked, worriedly running a hand through his hair.

"i'll take her, you've all been drinking." yeosang concluded. "she'll be fine, don't worry. enjoy the rest of your night, okay? i've dealt with woo passing out before remember?"

"that's true." san said, throwing a light hearted glare in wooyoung's direction, who showed a rather sheepish expression.

the boys went back to their drinks, taking it a little slower now and yeosang carried you to his car. it wasn't easy, but he managed to sit you upright in the back seat of his car with his rear view mirror aimed directly at you so he could make sure you were okay.

he was able to lift you up the stairs and get your house key from the pocket of your jacket, which would've looked questionable to anyone else, but he had the best intentions. he sat you down in a dining chair, watching as your head lolled forward and your body slumped. he quickly filled a glass of water and came back to you.

"y/n." he whispered, resting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." he said again, louder this time.

the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but you weren't waking up and that was becoming concerning. he shook your shoulder, as gently as he possible could in a moment like this, and to his relief, your eyes hesitantly opened.

your head felt like a bowling ball and you groaned quietly. "yeosang?"

"here." he said holding the cup to your lips, allowing you to take a small sip.

"how did we get here?" you mumbled, head rolling to the side.

he caught your head and carefully pushed you back upright, "i drove you, this is your apartment."

"oh." you said, eyes drooping shut again. "oh." you repeated.

"y/n, i really need you to stay awake right now." he said, bringing the cup to your mouth again. "lets talk."

"we never talk!" you exclaimed. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had!"

"i know." he said, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of you. yeosang felt that slight tug at his heart again tonight, the way you sounded so excited just to talk with him.

"no, no, no." you whined, "this is so bad!"

"what is it?"

you pouted before nervously biting your lip, "i'm really sorry."

"for what?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair.

"for ruining your night and making you stay here with me! now you just have another reason to hate me." you sighed, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i could never hate you." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but you had fallen back asleep, so yeosang sat you upright once more and monitored you closely all night. with every minute that passed, he wished more and more that it was easier for him to show his emotions, to you especially. he wondered if maybe he wasn't so closed off that things would be different between the two of you. but it was hard for him, to let people in, he was afraid. afraid of people judging the real him, afraid of what might happen if he lets himself become vulnerable, afraid of facing his feelings about you.

you awoke hours later with a raging headache and extreme nausea. you headed straight for the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, feeling the sickest you'd ever felt. yeosang waited patiently outside the bathroom door with a glass of water and painkillers.

when you came out, he held his hand out, "take this."

you looked down at his hand and then up at him, slightly confused, "what are you doing here?"

"you passed out last night, and i drove you home because everyone else had been drinking." he said, passing the glass of water.

"oh my god." you ran a hand through your hair, "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to be any trouble! you must of been here all night, i promise it won't happen again, that was so stupid of me—"

"it's fine, don't worry about it." he said, shrugging, "i'll get going now, but make sure you take it easy and drink enough water." his eyes carefully scanned your body one last time, making sure you were really okay. he headed for the door and you followed.

"i'm really sorry." you frowned, feeling as though no amount of apologies would make it up to him.

he let out a slight chuckle, "it's okay, seriously y/n." he said before leaving. you heard the all too familiar jingle of his keys as the door closed behind him.

he'd stayed with you all night, eyes watching over you closely. ready at your side whenever you stirred in your sleep. he'd been there in the morning prepared with water and painkillers. this was never how it was, usually this was your job, taking care of the boys. it was your way of showing you cared, helping out wherever possible.

this wasn't like yeosang. at all.

————————

as soon as yeosang got home he was greeted by a very concerned san and wooyoung.

"is she okay?"

"are you tired?"

"did she wake up?"

he was bombarded by questions.

"she's okay, she fell asleep after a while and i made her take some painkillers when she woke up." yeosang said, collapsing onto the couch.

"so you really don't hate her then." wooyoung thought aloud.

"he can't, he spent the whole night looking after her!" san said, hitting wooyoung like it was obvious.

"owww," wooyoung rubbed his arm, "even she thinks you don't like her!"

"i know, she said last night. but she probably won't remember saying that." yeosang said, feeling increasingly drowsy from his lack of sleep.

"maybe you guys should like, talk things out?" san suggested, taking a seat next to him.

"maybe." yeosang said, drifting off into sleep.

you had spent the day curled up in bed, wondering how you could make it up to yeosang, and there was nothing more you wanted than to get to know him better, but what would he want? you called up san on that thought.

"hey sannie," you said, "i need your help, actually, is woo there as well?"

"oh my god she's alive!" you heard wooyoung call from beside san.

"what do you need help with?" san asked.

you paused a moment, "is yeosang there?"

"well yes, but he's asleep."

you groaned, "i feel so bad that he stayed up all night looking after me. i really wanna make it up to him but i don't know how. plus, it's not like he's that fond of me. maybe i should just thank him by staying out of his space."

"i don't think he'd like that." wooyoung interjected. "i still think he just needs time before opening up to you."

"i think its just me." you sighed, worriedly chewing on your bottom lip.

"hey! don't be like that! there's no reason to not like you." san scolded you for down talking yourself as he always does.

"agreed." wooyoung said, chiming in.

"i'm sure i'll work something out. thanks guys! enjoy the rest of your day!" you said.

"good luck!"

"bye y/n!"

————————

you had been staring at your phone for at least an hour, typing and retyping the message to yeosang. wooyoung gave you his number so that you could contact him when you'd finally worked out how to make it up to him. in the end, you decided that you would let him decide.

you drew in a sharp breath and squeezed your eyes tightly shut as you pressed send.

you: hey yeosang, i still feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you !!

yeosang: did wooyoung give you my number? T~T

you: yes he did.. i hope thats okay !

yeosang: of course yeosang: how about you make it up to me over a cup of coffee? >.<

you: that sounds great !! you: when are you free ?

yeosang: does tomorrow morning work for you ? i can pick you up ^_^

you: of course ! i'll see you tomorrow :)

yeosang sat in his room, facepalming. why was it so easy to be more open over text?

you on the other hand, felt your heart swell in a bizarre way. maybe it was the way you hadn't expected him to use such cute little emoticons. maybe it was the way that you'd be able to have a full conversation with him. whatever it was, excitement had taken over you.

————————

a knock pounded at your door and you rushed to open it.

"ready to go?" he asked, leaning against the door frame coolly.

"yes, lets go!" you said, sounding a little too excited.

the two of you made your way down the stairs and into yeosang's car. you found yourself smiling as you looked out the window.

your excitement hadn't gone unnoticed, "you seem awfully excited."

"i really wanted to make it up to you," you beamed. "it must've been boring to watch over me all night."

"i didn't mind so much." he said, shrugging.

you frowned, "you shouldn't of done it."

"and leave you passed out in the club?" he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

"well..."

"exactly." he said, parking the car outside a small cafe nearby his apartment. "come on, lets go inside."

you followed him in and took a seat across from him at a table close to the window. you both ordered coffees and resumed conversation.

"so, where were we?" you smiled, taking a sip of coffee.

"talking about how you wanted me to leave you passed out in the club." he said. you were almost convinced you saw a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

"right. i'm so sorry about that."

this time he actually chuckled, and you were taken aback. it was like the wall yeosang had surrounding himself was crumbling before your eyes.

"you need to apologise less." he laughed, bringing his coffee cup to his mouth for a sip. "half of the time we talk its just you saying sorry to me."

"i'm so—"

"hey!" the two of you broke into laughter.

his laugh was loud but warm and you couldn't help but notice the way his nose scrunched up cutely, the way his eyes looked full of stars and the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes after, revealing his beautiful birthmark. from that point on, you wanted to be the one to make him laugh every day.

he felt that familiar tug at his heart, the one he'd been feeling every moment he spent alone with you. the one he felt when he first met you. the one he couldn't make any sense of. it was as though his heart was a violin and you were the one playing it. (which would explain the tugging feeling.) but you were playing the sweetest song and he never wanted it to end.

the two of you laughed the morning away, gradually making up for what you'd missed over two years in a matter of two hours.

you'd discovered that even after getting him to open up more, he wasn't one for words. you found yourself talking his ear off while he listened intently, occasionally sharing his opinions and stories. in all his honesty, he didn't mind listening to you talk. he could've sat there all day, drinking countless cups of coffee, watching the way you bit your bottom lip whenever you paused to think or the way your eyes filled with sparkles when you talked about something that made you happy.

you insisted on paying for the infinite cups of coffee, as it was your way of making it up to him. he reluctantly agreed, but promised that he would pay if there ever was a next time, which he secretly hoped there would be. he'd finally had the chance to let his walls down. (it was actually more like you'd climbed the walls and torn them down with your bare hands.) but he was thankful for it.

he drove you back to your apartment, even after you persisted on walking home, seeing as it wasn't that far. he refused, insisting that he drive you. he even followed you up the stairs to the door of your apartment.

you turned around to face him, "you know, you're not so bad when you actually wanna talk to me."

"you know, you're not so bad when you're not drunk." he countered, his lips breaking into a playful grin.

you glared jokingly, "hey! don't make me apologise again."

"okay, okay. i won't." he said, raising his hands in defence.

you smiled, resting against the door, "alright, well, i've really enjoyed hanging out with you today. maybe we should catch up more often."

"maybe we should." he said, bearing a coy smile, "bye, y/n. i'll see you around."

————————

it was only about a week later he showed up at your work, at the end of your shift. you were pleasantly surprised to see him, and at first thought he was just someone coming to book a room.

"hello, are you looking for a r— yeosang?"

"when do you get off work?" he asked, glancing over to the clock.

"five minutes."

"i'll be waiting in the car, okay?" he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

on his way out, you saw as he ran into your boss, the two of them beginning conversation.

"it's good to see you've made those security changes." yeosang said as he nodded, extending his arm for a friendly handshake. "i'm very thankful."

your boss shook his hand, "and i'm thankful that you suggested them."

just over five minutes later you got into the passenger seat of yeosang's car.

"it was you who told my boss about the safety problems." you said, in near disbelief.

"hello, to you too." he joked sarcastically. "well, i would hate to think that the situation could happen again, so i just suggested some possible improvements. thats all." he shrugged like it was nothing.

"suddenly, i feel the need to make it up to you again." you smiled shyly.

"you can do that by accompanying me to the skate park." he said, motioning to his skateboard on the back seat.

"ah, so thats why you came."

"well yeah, i wanted to bring you to the skate park."

your heart swelled once again, feeling joyed that he wanted to share one of his favourite places with you. (despite him never telling you directly, you knew he loved the skate park as he spent majority of his high school time there when he wasn't studying.)

when you arrived, the sun was beginning to slip behind the horizon, causing the sky to glow a rosy pink. there were still a few kids, probably high schoolers, hanging around the park. you took a seat at a bench and waited for yeosang to come over, who was getting his skateboard out the car. you felt oddly out of place since you were still in your neat work uniform and didn't know the first thing about skateboarding.

yeosang rolled over with a grin plastered onto his face, you'd never seen him so happy, and it made you happy to see him this way. it was strange how all it took was a few cups of coffee for him to become a completely different person around you.

he didn't need to ask you to watch as your eyes were already glued to him as he dropped into the bowl, showing countless tricks and flips.

the truth was in fact that yeosang was grateful for you 'making it up to him'. he'd never been able to comprehend his feelings for you, if they were even feelings at all. he hated the confusion and decided it was easier to ignore it, and to an extent, ignore you, to make it go away. it had been working for the most part, until every time the two of you were alone together, he couldn't ignore the slight tug at his heart, that was becoming more of a pull over the last few weeks.

"you're amazing!" you cheered as he sat down next to you, out of breath.

"thanks." he smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair and out of his face. he leaned back, looking up at the sky. "do you sometimes wish you could see the stars from within the city? hongjoong and seonghwa are so lucky they can see them from their house."

you pondered a moment, thinking about the last time you actually saw stars in the sky. "i see stars in your eyes sometimes." you said, absent minded.

he felt warmth burning in his cheeks, "you do?"

"do what?" you turned to him, "did i say that out loud?" you gasped, covering your face in embarrassment. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that it was just a thought and—"

"what did i say about apologising?" he laughed. "it's getting cold, right? you ready to head home?" he asked.

you smiled, "if you are."

he drove you home and said goodbye, feeling happy about spending time alone with you once again. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said and you couldn't stop feeling like a fool for saying it.

————————

the weather got colder and colder and soon it began to snow as the days of december passed. you had spent the day helping jongho move some new furniture into his apartment. it was a difficult job, but easier with the two of you, even san and wooyoung came to help. you couldn't resist wondering where yeosang was and why he didn't come, seeing as they lived in the same building. maybe he was busy, you thought.

"hey, where's yeosang?" you asked, lifting a box and placing it on the kitchen counter.

"at home, i think he's been feeling sick or something, he hardly comes out of his room lately." wooyoung shrugged, assuming it was all good.

"if he's sick i'll bring him over some food and painkillers, maybe keep him some company." you explained, not wanting yeosang to be unwell.

"i think he'd rather be left alone, to be honest." san said, giving wooyoung a side glance that you couldn't miss.

you pulled out your phone and sent yeosang a quick message.

you: are you feeling okay? san and woo said you were sick :((

he didn't respond right away and you just figured he was asleep. but as you finished helping out at jongho's house a few hours later, he still hadn't responded. when you were sitting down to eat dinner at home, he still hadn't respond. just before you were going to turn the lights out and go to bed, he still hadn't responded.

something was up. this wasn't like yeosang, not anymore. not since the two of you had been spending so much time together. maybe it was like the boys said, and he was truly very sick, but in that case, why wouldn't they let you help?

————————

days passed and you went to work as usual, repeating the same few lines, asking people if they want a room, asking them to fill in a form, then directing them to the right room. days passed and you still hadn't heard back from yeosang, you wondered if he was still sick. days passed and you began to think maybe you should go over there to see if he's okay.

but if there was one thing you'd learnt about yeosang recently, it was that he was the quieter type, and probably wouldn't appreciate you going over there to keep him company and would rather be alone. so that evening when you got off work, you didn't go visit him like you so desperately wanted to, instead, you went straight home.

you cooked and ate dinner for yourself, before picking up your phone, only to see still no messages from yeosang.

you: hey woo you: is yeosang feeling better ?

wooyoung: yeah he is

you: well then can i come visit tomorrow ?

wooyoung: i think he's busy wooyoung: sorry

you: its okay woo you: its not your fault !!

you switched your phone off and headed for the shower, trying to wash away the stress and worry for yeosang that had built up over the last few weeks. you had really grown to like him and there was still so much about him you wanted to learn, like when he learned to skateboard or how he got the small scar on the back of his hand, that you'd noticed when ever he brushes his hair out of his eyes.

two years he'd spent, not interested in holding conversation with you and two years you'd spent, wondering what you'd did so wrong. but lately, you felt like you were doing something right around him, getting him to smile and laugh, share his own stories.

you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he still didn't like you, and had just been trying for wooyoung's sake.

or maybe he was genuinely starting to like you, but you went and fucked it up by weirding him out and telling him about his starry eyes.

or maybe he'd just had enough of you already. decided that a few weeks was enough time spent trying to change things between the two of you.

as you finished showering and changed into comfortable clothes, you glanced at the clock which read 10:56pm. you switched on the television to watch some youtube before going to bed. as you felt yourself dozing off, a faint knock sounded at your door, so quiet you almost missed it.

when you opened the door, you were shocked to see yeosang standing there, leaning against the door frame for support. he looked up at you, his normally starry eyes were dulled with tears.

you rushed forward to him, smelling the alcohol as you got closer, "yeosang are you okay? what are you doing here? i thought you were sick. are you drunk? you never drink, come inside." you gently pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. when you turned to face him, he was staring at you, tears about to spill over the brim of his eyes.

"i hate you." he breathed out, voice barely louder than a whisper. he didn't seem angry though, he looked fragile, like a glass vase balancing on the edge of a table.

you felt the urge to cry, finally hearing those three words that confirmed your biggest concern, yeosang disliking you. "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i never meant to—"

"i hate you." he said, louder this time before running a hand through his hair hastily. he let out a frustrated groan, dragging his hands down his face. "i hate the tugging feeling in my heart whenever we're alone. i hate the way you put yourself before others. i hate the way you ramble on when you're nervous. i hate the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. i hate the way i don't drink around you because i feel the need to protect you and make sure you're safe. i hate the way i tried to ignore you for two years because i was scared and confused about my own feelings. i hate how it only took one cup of coffee with you for my walls to come crashing down!" he paced from side to side, waving his hands around crazily.

yeosang looked scared and lost, like he'd never felt this way about anyone before, and that was the truth. he didn't know how to comprehend these feelings and it terrified him.

you watched as he spiralled, seeming as though it would never stop. you weren't sure what to do, so you just listened to that swelling feeling in your heart once again, the one that had led you to develop feelings for yeosang, and you pulled him close into your arms. he clung onto you tightly, scared to let go, like if he did then he'd lose you forever. you ran your fingers through his hair briefly, trying your best to comfort him.

"i'm sorry." you repeatedly whispered to him. you'd never meant to upset him or confuse him.

yeosang let out a quiet sob into your chest, "i hate the way i've fallen in love with you." he croaked out.

he didn't hate you. never did. never will. your heart swelled completely in your chest, feeling as though it would burst through. but it couldn't be true. he's totally drunk out of his mind.

"you're not in your right mind, yeosang, you need to get home. you're drunk and talking nonsense." you embraced him tightly one more time, and you could've sworn you felt the beat of his heart through the hug. "come on," you urged, steering him towards the door, "wooyoung and san are probably worried and waiting up for you."

with much effort, you led him down the stairs of your apartment block and walked him home. the street lamps led you in the freezing city night air. you held his wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs to his own apartment. he didn't speak a single word the whole time, instead, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. it hurt you so much to see him this broken, but you knew he wasn't saying the truth under control of the alcohol in his veins.

you knocked at his apartment door, hoping that one of the boys were still awake. luckily, they both were and quickly they flung the door open.

"y/n? yeosang?" san questioned, his eyes wide open with disbelief.

"we've been so worried about you!" wooyoung said, pulling yeosang away from you. "hang on, are you drunk?"

san had noticed his tired, tear stained eyes, "you look like you've been crying! are you okay?"

you let out a quiet sigh, knowing you didn't need to be here anymore. you gave a small wave goodbye and headed home, utterly exhausted.

and though you were so drained, you couldn't seem to fall asleep. those words yeosang said to you kept running through your mind busily.

did he mean any of it?

————————

yeosang felt bad. he felt terrible. like he wanted to vanish into thin air and float away with the breeze. though he couldn't, no, he desperately wanted to apologise to you. but he didn't know how, he wasn't good with words or expressing his feelings, and you wished he knew that was something you loved about him.

wooyoung and san tried to ask him what happened the night he drunkenly confessed to you, but he couldn't have them know that he'd been harbouring feelings for you for all this time, they'd never let him live it down. he could imagine the continuous teasing they'd give him, nudging him whenever you were together or giving him side glances after talking to you.

yeosang gave it lots of thought. he mulled it over in his head repeatedly. it was only after hours spent hidden away in his room that he decided to go back to where it all started, a text. a text that said how much he wanted to make it up to you for having to deal with him drunk, just like the one you'd sent initially.

yeosang: hey y/n, i feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you! T^T

your heart leapt a mile seeing his name appear on your phone. you grinned upon reading his message, realising it was scarily similar to the message you had first sent him.

you: hmmm you: that sounds familiar

yeosang: >.< yeosang: seriously though, how does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound? i'll cook

you: you can cook?

yeosang: there's a lot you don't know about me x_x

you: okay, i'll be there !!

————————

yeosang wasn't lying when he said he can cook. as you traipsed up the stairs of his apartment block you could smell something delicious laced in the air.

the usual swelling in your heart had instead fell to the pit of your stomach, you were feeling slightly nervous as to what would happen when you entered yeosang's apartment. you inhaled deeply before knocking at the door of his apartment.

"hey y/n, come in." yeosang greeted, holding an arm out, signalling for you to come inside.

"you must've been working hard cooking! it smells delicious." you said, feeling a sense of comfort just from the smell of food.

"yeah, lucky i sent wooyoung and san over to jongho's place, otherwise i doubt there would be any pasta to serve." he joked. "you can take a seat, i've just gotta serve up."

you sat down in front of a neatly laid table, it had somewhat surprised you how much effort yeosang had put into this dinner tonight. he placed a steamy hot plate of pasta in front of you and one where he would sit.

"so." he began.

"so." you copied, teasingly.

"i guess, i really just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i behaved the other night when i was drunk. you shouldn't of had to deal with that." he frowned, poking at his dinner.

you furrowed your brows, "it's seriously fine yeosang." you took a bite of pasta, "i was just surprised to see you drunk, since you never drink."

he chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, "actually, i do. i just never drink when you're there."

"really? why?" you questioned, eating another mouthful of pasta.

"because..." he paused. "no, it sounds dumb out loud."

"it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself." you smiled warmly, "but that does remind me to ask... do you remember anything you said to me while you were drunk?" you leant forward, genuinely curious.

he sighed, "i remember.. enough."

"you don't really hate me, right?" you asked, playing with the food on your plate.

"of course not! that's why i invited you here tonight. to show you that i don't, and to make it up to you." he had to refrain from reaching across to hold your hand, just to show how much he cared that little bit more.

you nodded, "well, thats good. i was kinda worried that we'd gone back to square one."

comfort settled within you. it was relieving to know you weren't hated by the one person whose love you wanted most. a tiny thought crept into your mind, maybe, just maybe, now would be the right time to tell him about your blossoming feelings for him. or would that confuse him more? now you were the one feeling conflicted.

"are you finished eating?" he asked, reaching for your empty plate.

"yes, thank you! it was delicious. you're a good cook, y'know."

"ah, thanks y/n." he turned away to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

"would you like me to do the dishes? since you cooked." you offered, standing up. but he quickly opposed.

"don't be ridiculous." he shooed you back to your seat. "can i get you a coffee? water? wine?"

"a coffee sounds good, i think you and i have had too many drunken situations lately." you laughed.

yeosang pulled out two mugs and put the kettle on. he felt your eyes carefully watching him. once again, he hated the feeling that was pulling at his heart. the way you could say nothing, yet he felt everything.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, voice now quieter and more hesitant.

"sure, what is it?" he said, placing a warm cup of coffee in front of you.

you took a sip, humming in delight. it was exactly the way you liked it. when the two of you went out for coffee, he had unintentionally remembered just the way you like it.

"well," you began cautiously, in case you brought this situation into flames again. "i just... i always wondered why you didn't like me. if i was doing something wrong, if i said something once that really upset you. and then after we started spending time together, i finally felt like i was doing the right thing." you groaned, frustrated with yourself for not getting to the point quicker. "what i'm trying to say is that i have feelings for you. it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i wouldn't expect you to, i just thought you should know—"

yeosang basically choked on his coffee, eyes widening in shock. "it's okay, y/n! in case you hadn't noticed, i'm crazy about you."

you had continued to ramble nervously before hearing what he said.

"wait. you are?"

"basically ever since you said that thing about stars in my eyes, yes."

you cringed, remembering how you had said that so absent minded. "yeah, sorry about that."

"it's okay, it was cute. and what did i say about apologising?"

you shook your head and smiled, "i know."

————————

ever since the two of you confessed to each other, you had been almost inseparable, except of course when you had work. but he dropped you home most nights, even though you insisted it was okay and that you could walk. he came over every weekend just to spend time with you, even if the two of you just sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. you'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kept it undercover, not wanting to suffer the incessant questioning that would come if you told your friends.

it didn't go unnoticed either, wooyoung and san were constantly nagging yeosang about why the two of you spent so much time together, and each time he just shrugged it off.

christmas was just around the corner, so you were spending the evening at seonghwa's and hongjoong's house, who of course, were throwing an unnecessarily large house party to celebrate.

you were sat between a very drunk yunho and mingi, who were trying to talk to an also very drunk jongho. you eyed your boyfriend from across the room, as if asking for a way out and he just laughed at the situation you were stuck in.

after at least ten minutes more of having your ear talked off, yeosang came to pull you away to the dance floor.

"care to dance?" he asked, extending his hand to you.

you immediately jumped up, latching onto his hand, "i would love to!"

he chuckled, pulling you close to his side and leading you to the makeshift dance floor that seonghwa and hongjoong created.

the two of you laughed at the boys' reaction. they were completely shocked to see the two of you so close together and yeosang being friendly.

he twirled you around a few times with the music, before settling his arms around your waist. he brought you near to him as you placed your arms behind his neck. you swayed back and forth, engulfed in your own little bubble of comfort in each other's arms, completely out of time with the loud thumping music that blared around you.

you felt content, and yeosang no longer felt confused. he found his home in your arms and his happiness.

you reached up to place your lips on his, capturing the moment surrounding you. yeosang melted into the kiss, discovering that your lips were soft and sweet against his, just as he had imagined, which caused his knees to feel weak and his heart to skip more than just one beat. he never wanted to let you go, he wanted to compensate for every second that he didn't spend with you since the two of you met.

he leaned forward and whispered softly, just so you could hear above all the music and singing, "lets stay like this forever."

292 notes · View notes

hotshotsxyz · 4 years

Text

15x19 Coda

[read it on AO3]

It's… over. They won. And Dean is happy, he really is. It was a near perfect ending. The sun is shining and the Earth's still turning, it's inhabitants entirely unaware of the days they'd lost. He wonders if some scientist won't figure it out, notice that the stars have moved too far for a single day. A puzzle for the decade. And Sam, Sam's practically vibrating with excitement as they draw closer to Eileen with every mile of asphalt beneath their tires.

So yeah, Dean's happy. But it's a hollow sort of happiness.

They'd won, but the cost to play had been too damn high. Dean hadn't asked Jack to bring Cas back because he didn't have to. He'd seen the flash of sadness in his eyes after bringing everyone else back; seen the near-imperceptible shake of his head when Dean took an aborted step after him as he backed away. Jack couldn’t do it.

The kid had been through enough, and Dean wasn't going to make him explain why restoring the entire world was in his power but bringing Cas back wasn't.

Instead, he'd pasted on as much of a smile as he could manage and teased Sam about seeing Eileen again so he wouldn't have to think about who they wouldn't be seeing.

Waking at all is a surprise. Cas had seen the Empty reaching out to him, had felt its icy tendrils envelop him. And he'd felt peace. Dean was safe, and he'd finally said what he'd wanted to all these years. Finally let himself feel love in its entirety. It had been glorious.

Now, he's mostly confused. The Empty is different from what Cas remembers. There's a high pitched whine that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. In the back of Cas's head, he feels presences other than his own, tugging his consciousness in several directions. With nothing else to do, he picks one at random and begins to walk.

It's well after midnight, and they're still on the road. Sam is asleep on the passenger side, but Dean isn't tired. The last song on the cassette in the tape deck had ended an hour ago, and Dean hadn't bothered to put in a new one. They're miles from any sort of civilization, and Dean has to remind himself more than once that the lack of cars around them doesn't mean everyone is gone again. Still, between that and the muted landscape surrounding them, there's little to do but think.

Before, just after Chuck had wiped the Earth clean of everyone but them, Dean had had to push it all down. Sam was spiraling, and Dean couldn't afford to sink into the stupor he usually found himself in after losing Cas.

And wasn't that a thought? He's lost Cas so many damn times, he has a 'usual' response. This time feels different, though. He feels different. Dean still aches, feels the loss like a gaping hole in his chest. He greets his grief as an old friend, wraps himself in it like a warm blanket. He knows how to survive this loss, though, because he's done it before. And for once, he wants to. Because he wants to live up to what Cas saw in him.

"Michael," Cas says, surprised. His voice sounds strange to his ears, echoless and muted by the void around them.

Perhaps the direction he'd chosen hadn't been quite as random as he'd thought.

"Castiel," Michael replies, "I – I'm sorry," he says. Had Cas not known any better, he would've thought it was Adam speaking, not Michael. The words are pained and soft, brimming with the sort of regret and sorrow that angels are rarely capable of.

"What happened?" Cas asks.

Michael shakes his head mutely and turns away. Cas blinks and he's gone. The high pitched whine remains. Cas continues on.

Dean shakes Sam awake around four in the morning, just as he pulls into a roadside motel. It's the sort they've slept in a thousand times before, stained carpet and questionable mass produced art and all. It feels almost like a homecoming.

"Time is it?" Sam asks, yawning.

"Late," Dean replies. "C'mon, I need a couple hours of shut eye before we keep going."

Sam rubs his eyes and stretches. "How far out are we?" He asks as he climbs out of the car.

Dean shrugs. "Three or four hours?" he guesses.

"That close?" Sam asks.

"C'mon." Dean gestures towards the front of the motel. "A little sleep and we'll be there by lunchtime."

Next, Cas finds Ruby. Or rather, she finds him.

'Well, whatever the hell you did it woke us all up," she says from behind him. Cas spins around to face her.

He doesn't know what to say.

"I guess I should thank you," Ruby continues. "I mean, I could do without the eternal shriek, but it's better than everything that was going on up here." She taps her forehead meaningfully.

"I don't know why we’re awake," Cas says finally.

"Ah," Ruby says. "Then I guess you still owe me." She winks, and then she too is gone. The whine continues. Although, now that he thinks about it, perhaps shriek is a more accurate description.

Dean is exhausted, but even with his eyes shut tight against the soft moonlight that filtered through the motel room's thin curtains he can't sleep. He misses the odd sounds the bunker made at night. He misses his memory foam mattress. He misses his damn nightgown and he misses- well. Best not to go there while he's trying to sleep.

After several more minutes of unsuccessful slumber, Dean sighs and swings himself out of bed. He toes on his boots as quietly as he can manage and slips out into the night. He walks around behind the motel and sits on concrete slab, back against the wall and arms resting on his knees. The night is cold and clear, the stars as bright as he's ever seen them.

For a while he just stares, tracing out the constellations he knows and making new ones in place of the ones he doesn't. Above the big dipper is a group of stars he decides to call Jack. The brightest of them make a sort of circle. Harmony, Dean thinks. Beyond that are several stars in the shape of a child's drawing of of a house. He calls that one Sam. And above it… well, Dean knows that one. Cassiopeia. He doesn't know where it got it's name, but he knows what it means to him. Cas.

His next encounter is less welcome than the first two were.

"Cassie!" Lucifer calls out gleefully. "What a lovely family reunion."

"I have nothing to say to you," Cas rumbles.

"Oh," Lucifer says, "but you'll want to hear what I have to say." He grins, but none of the mirth reaches his eyes.

"Your precious little humans are going to lose," he sing-songs. "I've made sure of it."

"You've been here longer than I have," Cas retorts.

"Dad sprung me," Lucifer replies, "and I-"

Cas pushes past him. "I have no interest in your games," he says. To his surprise, Lucifer says nothing in response.

When he turns around, the Archangel is gone.

Dean tilts his head back against the wall, and for the first time since purgatory, he prays.

"Cas," he says softly. "I don't know if you can hear me. Hell, you probably can't. I know this one was probably it. The big goodbye." Tears begin to form in Dean's eyes, and he does nothing to stop them from falling. "I wanted to say thank you," he whispers. "What you did… we saved the world because of it. Because of you. There're seven billion people out there who owe you their lives. Some of us owe it a few times over." Dean chuckles a little at that, a wet, painful sound. "I need you to know that you changed me too. Of course you did, how could you not? Whatever it is you saw in me… it's there because of you. I never thought… well, I guess we're both stupid. You said the one thing you wanted you couldn't have. Cas," Dean says, his voice breaking, "I wanted it, too." His prayer devolves into choking sobs, the kind that tear themselves from you and won't let you draw breath to replace them.

Cas feels a sharp, painful tug in his grace.

Cas, he hears in his mind. He knows that voice. Cas falls to his knees.

It isn't until the suns rays stain the horizon gold that Dean stands again. He dusts himself off and wipes at the dried tear tracks on his face. He aches, but he also feels some relief. He hadn't said it all but… he'd said enough. The rest he can keep for himself, at least for now. He slips back into the motel room where, predictably, Sam is still asleep. He steps out of his shoes and slides beneath the scratchy motel sheets. Finally, finally, he sleeps.

"Dean," Cas chokes out. The prayer bounces around his head like a trapped echo. I wanted it, too. Cas feels the wetness on his face even as his determination surges. He's awake, and he's going to find a way home. He has to.

Cas continues walking with renewed purpose, although just as directionless as before. He wanders for what felt like hours or perhaps mere minutes. There's no concept of time in the Empty; only what was and what is. Eventually, he notices that the shriek is getting louder. It suddenly seems to be coming from a specific direction. Cas turns toward it and begins to run.

The little sleep Dean gets leaves him feeling surprisingly refreshed, and they make good time the rest of the way to Eileen. Ten minutes out, and Sam is all smiles, sending her update texts for every street they pass. His happiness is contagious, and Dean finds himself smiling too. He might not have gotten everything he wanted, but dammit Sam deserves this. So does Eileen. They've both been through so much. They're good for each other.

She's waiting on the sidewalk as they pull up to the curb, and Sam's out of the car before they even stop. He runs straight to Eileen, wraps his arms around her and swings her in a circle. She lets out a high pitched squeal and, when Sam puts her down, drags him into a long kiss.

"It's over," she says softly.

"It’s over," Sam agrees.

Eileen wraps her arms back around Sam and presses her face into his shoulder.

Dean looks away. He's happy for them, he is, but it's hard to watch, knowing that he'll never – well. All that matters is that they have each other. Dean is grateful for that.

The Empty is screaming. The closer Cas gets, the more it hurts to listen to. The unending screech rattles his teeth and threatens to tear his eardrums. He keeps walking.

As he draws close, it seems to sense his presence. "You!" it shrieks, turning it's face towards him. It still wears Meg's face, but it bares an expression he's never seen on her before. "You did this!" It lunges at him, but even as he flinches back it falls short, back on it's hands and knees.

"Make it STOP," the Empty pleads. "It's so loud."

It sounds so desperate that Cas almost feels sorry for it.

"Maybe I can help you," he says, though he has no idea how.

"Please," it begs, driven far past the point of reason.

"But if I do," Cas says, "you have to help me too."

"ANYTHING," it screeches.

"Send me home."

The Empty stares up at him. Its lips curl into a snarl. "I. Can't," it says.

"Why?" Cas demands. "You've done it before."

"We made a deal," it replies. "Deals cannot be broken."

"Then I can't help you." Cas turns and begins to walk away. The determination he felt before begins to drain quickly away.

"Wait!" it screeches.

Cas turns. "I can't help you from here," he says.

"If you get back… what will you do?"

"Jack did this to you, right?" Cas verifies. The Empty screeches in anger. It's all the confirmation Cas needs. "Then I'll get him to undo it. It's the only way to put them back to sleep. For you to go back to sleep."

The Empty stares at him for a moment in silence. It nods. "It's a deal," it says. It lunges at him, and this time Cas is too slow to avoid it. It wraps itself around him and tears him open. It's like dying all over again, but a thousand times more painful. It's as if his very essence is being torn from him. As if – oh. That's exactly what it is. It's unmaking him. The Empty is for angels and demons and other celestial beings, and if he isn't one… before he has time to finish the thought, he's gone.

The Empty curls in on itself to wait. It screams.

Dean makes some bullshit excuse about finding parking and drives off, leaving Sam and Eileen to catch up. It serves the dual purpose of giving them some alone time and him some space. He drives without thinking, makes random turns onto streets he doesn't know until he finds himself at the edge of town. He parks the car and gets out.

He begins to wander on foot, walking along a dirt road that runs between two corn fields. It almost certainly leads nowhere, but he feels an irrational need to follow it, as if there's something important at the end.

And then he sees it. He swears.

He'd known they were somewhere in Illinois, but he hadn't realized they were here.

The barn is more rundown than the last time he saw it, but Dean knows it's the same one. He can feel it in his bones. He wants to let go, to fall to his knees and sob, but something in him pushes him forward. He walks until he reaches its ramshackle doors. He places his hand lightly on one.

This is stupid, he knows. There's nothing for him beyond those doors except heartbreak and longing. Still though, there's something fitting about saying goodbye where it all began. He takes in a deep breath and pushes the door open. Its hinges squeal, but he pays them no mind because the barn isn't empty.

In it's center lays a dark haired man, naked and shivering. Cas. Cas.

Dean sprints forward. He doesn't care if this is a trick, doesn't care if he's gone mad. It's Cas.

Everything hurts. Cas is cold, and disoriented and lost and the only emotion he can process is relief. Because these aren't the sort of things that an angel feels. They're what humans feel. And humans don't belong in the Empty. He hears a noise behind him, hears a sharp intake of breath, and he knows.

He's home.

Dean falls to his knees as Cas sits up and turns to face him. "Cas," he breathes. All of his energy seems to leave him at once. He reaches out with a shaking hand and stops just shy of touching Cas's cheek.

"Hello, Dean," Cas replies warmly. He presses his face into the proffered hand.

Dean chokes out a sob, and then he's pulling Cas toward him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pressing his face into his hair. Cas returns the gesture, snaking his hands around Dean's waist. Dean feels dampness against his shoulder and knows that Cas is crying too.

"How?" Dean asks, not loosening his grip at all.

"I made a deal," Cas replies simply.

Dean feels himself tense. "Not that kind of deal," Cas reassures him. "I'll tell you more, but… not right now."

Dean pulls back a little, just far enough to look Cas in the eye. "Cas," he says, "I gotta tell you something."

Cas shakes his head softly. "I heard your prayer," Cas says. "I know."

"I didn't say it all," Dean replies.

"What's left?" Cas tilts his head in that oh-so-familiar way that Dean thought he'd never see again. He lets out another small sob.

"I love you, too," Dean says. "I'm sorry I didn't say it before, I should've said it before. But I love you, I've loved you, I will always love you. You changed me too, Cas."

"You…" Cas says, wonder in his expression.

"You can have it, Cas, of course you can have it. I'm yours."

Cas surges forward, and for the first time he takes, pressing his lips against Dean's. Dean is quick to respond though, giving as good as he gets. They spend who knows how long wrapped up in each other, until finally the need for air forces them to break the kiss. At some point, Dean's hands had wound their way into Cas's hair and he leaves them there as they breathe together.

"Dean," Cas says, and there something desperate in his voice.

"I'm with you," Dean replies.

"There's something you should know," Cas continues. "There was a cost to leaving the Empty," he says.

Cold fear washes over Dean. "What?" he asks softly.

"My grace," Cas answers. "I'm human."

Dean stares at him, open mouthed. "You're..." he starts, but doesn't know how to finish.

Cas nods. "I understand if that changes things," he says softly.

"Of course not Cas, god, of course not. I love you," Dean says. "All of you, in any form, whatever the consequences." Dean pauses for a moment, out of breath. "Are you okay, though?" he asks softly.

Cas breaks out into a wide grin. "Yes, Dean Winchester. Yes, I am."

And Dean's smiling too, so hard it hurts. "C'mon," he says, "You must be freezing." He pulls off his jacket and wraps it around Cas's shoulders. "Let's go home," he says.

"Home," Cas repeats, smiling.

And so, they do.

#destiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #i'm manifesting you guys!!#it's been literally forever since I've written anything but these last few episodes have been sending me so here I am!!#Anyway destiel is canon cas is gonna be in the last episode #deans gonna reciprocate and no one can tell me any different #hope you enjoy!#spn spoilers #abbie writes #mine #fic

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apprentice-lex · 5 years

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Dear anon, thank you for this wonderful ask! <3

Yes, the Courtiers would sever their ties with the Devil. It would be a process, and ultimately, it would happen because the MC gave them a new perspective on humanity. Before they met the MC, it was easier for the courtiers to not care for humanity; the courtiers changed themselves through the deals with the Devil and became immortal, powerful creatures - as years passed, they slowly forgot the woes and sorrows of humanity, it became easier for them to slip into a cold, uncaring mindset regarding these creatures whose lives are so brief and whose woes are so laughable. Especially those courtiers who made those deals to escape and forget said woes themselves. Some of them suffered as humans. Some of them detested their own human weaknesses and the fears that consumed them whole - so they made deals to rise above said fears and pain. And now, the MC enters their lives, and they are slowly made to remember their own humanity. It isn't easy. With the memory of it, the fear and hurt return as well. But being with the MC is worth it. By then, there isn't much the Courtiers would not do for the MC. Immortality and uncaring power of their non-human nature would ultimately part them from the MC forever. So they accept the pain, face the fear, in order to stay at their beloved's side. However, it isn't easy... There is the fear and the pain they forgot... but there is joy too. And all of it is coming back. They need to re-learn so much. (Warnings for alcohol, violence/injuries, blood, and implied self-destructive behavior.)

Valerius

- he's relieved. He's so relieved to be freed; for all his feigned confidence and bluster, Valerius was terrified by the changes he'd undergone.

- he seems more cheerful, more unburdened, more himself. You find yourself invited to accompany him to dances and soirees more often, instead of him just shutting himself in his study and wallowing in self-hatred while he pretends to work.

- there was, however, an incident. He'd forgotten that he no longer possesses the resistances he once did; his human body is simply not as strong.

- you find him slumped over in his chair, face obscured by long, tangled hair, bottles of wine around him half-empty and overturned, rich crimson dripping off the table and soaking into the carpet. When he doesn't respond and doesn't stir, you realize at once what had happened, and rush to get Valdemar.

- Valerius wakes to you holding his hand - and the first thing he does is smile feebly at your worried expression. "You'd care..." he says in a quiet, shaky voice. "Of course I'd care, you foolish, insufferable..." instead of finishing that sentence, you kiss him. And despite his biting humor and disbelief at finding you at his bedside, Valerius kisses you back as if he were a man drowning and you were the very air he was so desperate for; where his words fail, his desperate kisses convey just how much he was afraid to lose you because of his own mistakes.

Valdemar

- human Valdemar is... a handful, to say the least. They've probably been a demon the longest of all the Courtiers, and they forgot so much.

- it's easy enough to anticipate their patients' needs and tend to their ailments. But themself? Oh no. It takes an incident - they collapse in the middle of a surgery - for you to realize something is seriously off. Once they have a blanket wrapped around them and a cup of tea in their hands - the surgery in the capable if less experienced hands of their assistants - it becomes obvious what's wrong. They are exhausted, dehydrated, and starving. Oops, they forgot they were reduced to a flesh vessel, after decades of relying on their supernatural stamina and abilities.

- that's it. You sternly tell them they are now in your care, and surprisingly, Valdemar doesn't protest. You don't dare leave them unattended, so they sit at your side with their blanket and their tea, as they watch you prepare something to eat. It's endlessly fascinating to them. When you place the food in front of them, they have no complaints. They tentatively taste it, only for their eyes to widen in pleased surprise at the taste - regardless of your cooking skill level. They savor every bit of the food and praise you; in truth, they spent so long being nonhuman that every taste and sensation is new to them.

- after, they ask to hold your hand, they marvel at the texture of your skin and how nice it feels. For once, they're not viewing another person as merely a potential experiment. Still, their scientific curiosity remains. Only, now they're approaching commonplace, everyday things with wonder. They marvel at the taste of soup, the softness of a pillow, a butterfly in flight. For once, everything around them is more than just facts and scientific potential - there's sensation and beauty.

- the most wonderful and fascinating thing, however, is still you.

Volta

- the first time she eats and feels sated, you have to hold her in your arms for a while as silent tears of joy and relief stream down her face. She thought she would never know respite from the hunger again.

- she forgets that her limitations are different now that she's human again. So, be prepared to stay at her side while she has to stay in bed with a stomachache, because how was she supposed to remember that eating ten slices of pie would be a bad thing now? She'll whine and complain and ask for cuddles. You can make her a cup of mint and lemon tea to help settle her stomach, and you'll earn her eternal gratitude. But you'll also have to stop her from having a few biscuits with the tea. It's a process...

- she can properly taste things now, not just devour them to sate the yawning emptiness that once plagued the core of her being. And she will be so happy about all the amazing flavors, she'll bring you bites of food at all times, to share the wonderful flavors with you. Her enthusiasm is adorable.

- once she truly realizes she doesn't have her powers anymore, and that you have to rely on each-other more instead of her being able to call on her demonic form, she's terrified. She can't protect you anymore, what if someone harms you? She begs you not to leave the mansion. You have to sit down with her and gently explain to her that it's okay, you were human all this time and nothing happened, humans aren't helpless, and you can protect each-other. Once you reassure her, she is surprisingly fierce, protecting you with all that she is; although now she is just a short, tiny woman with an adorable fearsome glare. Of course, you won't tell her that outright, but you find her confidence both admirable and adorable.

Vlastomil

- the two of you make sure that his transformation, the loss of his powers, happens in the privacy of his chambers, where he can get used to his mortal body away from prying eyes.

- when the supernatural strength and the eternal life drain slowly from him, with the Devil's magic, he is left terrified and trembling, staring down at his shaking hands, looking at them like he's seeing them for the first time. What is this sensation? Cold? He forgot he could feel anything but comfort from it. What is this sound? Is it his heart? It seems so much louder and faster now that it regained its human properties. A thin sheen of sweat forms on his brow, and he swipes it away curiously. So many sensations. Discomfort and hunger and cold, so many things he's so unused to feeling. Completely overwhelmed and despairing, he reaches out to his one source of comfort, reaches to embrace you.

- Oh. How his mortal heart quickens as he wraps you in his arms. How wonderful the warmth of your skin, your sheer presence. How differently your presence feels now - he can no longer sense the blood rushing through your veins, he can no longer sense your bones shift as you move - the things his demonic form could sense. But he can hold you in his arms, in awe of how warm and alive you feel, holding you tightly against him until his mortal heart syncs up with yours.

- he presses a kiss to your forehead and laughs breathlessly, still trembling, tells you that there will be so many things he will have to re-learn, but that he is looking forward to learning how to be human again, with you.

Vulgora

- they... forget, a few times. The first time someone challenges them after their transformation, they rush into battle with no regard for their safety, forgetting they are not immortal, forgetting they can bleed, forgetting that they can feel pain now.

- the first strike that gets through their guard stops them dead in their tracks - rage drained out of them, the expression on their face one of wonder, their eyes wide as they softly touch their fingers to their lips, and their hand comes away bloody. What a curious sensation, pain. Their lapse in concentration is all their enemy needs. For the first time in ages, Vulgora loses. They are beaten practically into bloody pulp; they are lucky nothing was broken.

- they wake to you tending to their wounds, and when their eyes flutter open you see in them humbling realization in place of anger, you see fear. They are mortal. They can bleed. They can die.

- they don't stop. Of course, they heed your advice to be more careful, and they train twice as hard now, to make up for the "shortcomings of mortal flesh." But the realization that they can bleed now, and that they can die doesn't stop them. They'd do both for you, gladly.

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kimjongdaely · 5 years

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Eternal [Chapter 6]

Vampire!AU

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, abuse, sexual situations, abortion, mention of suicide

Summary: You’re not sure how to deal with your current situation. Your owner, Byun Baekhyun, isn’t helping with the stress. But what happens when you find a risky solution that might just solve all your problems?

Prologue [M]│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Chapter 9│Chapter 10│Chapter 11 │Chapter 12│Chapter 13

You wake up to find yourself snuggled against Baekhyun. It’s a bizarre, tender feeling; you’ve always been alone when you wake up.

His breathing is slow and steady, still asleep. You smile, brushing hair out of his eyes, seeing the way his nose scrunches up slightly as he snuggles closer to your warmth.

You feel so, so tired. Yesterday was so draining for you. A chill shoots down your spine at the thought that you were so close in losing your child. You press a reassuring hand over your stomach, so glad Baekhyun didn’t go through with it.

You see his eyelids shift, as if he’s dreaming. You press a kiss to his cheek before getting up, slipping out of the room. You almost bump into Sehun, who greets you with a cheerful smile.

“Oh, good morning.” He says. “Are...are you alright?”

“Yes,” you answer, returning his smile. “Everything’s alright now.”

He let’s out a quiet sigh of relief, nodding. “That’s good. I was afraid Baekhyun would do something he’d regret.”

“He...almost did.” You whisper, feeling another wave of relief and exhaustion hit you. You are unable to shake off the vision of him actually forcing the abortion, how it would feel to lose your child. You hug your stomach again, biting your lip.

“What’s important is that he didn’t.” Sehun says softly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder before yawning. “Well, I’m going to bed now. See you later.”

You nod as he retreats into his room. You find it slightly odd that he would be up so late—early? You’re not sure; vampire timezone is weird.

You descend the stairs, exhaling deeply. The morning sun fills up the house with warmth, and you bask in it gratefully. You feel rejuvenated, something in your life finally turning out for the better.

You find Jongdae’s Pet in the living room, folding clothes while humming a light tune. You blink, surprised. “You came back?”

She pauses, turning towards you with a smile. “Thorn! Yes...I came back.” Her eyes shuffle to the side, her teeth sinking into her lip uncomfortably. You frown at that, cocking your head.

“Why? I thought you wanted to leave and live a new life.”

“Well, a lot of things happened.” She runs down the gist of what happened, how Victoria had attacked them, about Hui getting hurt and is resting in her room. You stand dumbfounded at her recounting, unable to process it.

It seems like you’re not the only one going through a hard time. You take a tentative seat next to her as she resumes folding her clothes, the silence slightly uncomfortable but not awkward.

You glance at her from the corner of your eye, finding her looking...happy. Content. She must’ve left it out, but you’re sure she had a good talk with Jongdae. They might even be together now. It’s about time, any way.

“So,” she starts suddenly. “How are things with Baekhyun?” Her tone is filled with worry, though she tries hard to mask it.

You smile, for the first time not having to force it. “We’re making things work.”

Her hands freeze mid-fold, eyes wide as she turns towards you. “So he knows? He accepted it?”

“Not at first.” You admit. “But I think I got through to him.”

She squeals, pulling you into a big hug. You wince slightly, still sore from old wounds but you hug her back, letting her warmth seep into you. “That’s great! I’m so happy for you.” She pulls back with a wide smile, tears swimming in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll all finally be happy here.”

You tear up as well, feeling, for the first time in a long time, so filled with hope. Hope for a better life. Hope for the future. For your child and for Baekhyun. You almost choke up when you answer, “Yeah.”

“Thorn?”

You turn towards the familiar voice, beaming when you see him. You hurry over to give him a welcoming hug. “Welcome back, Yixing.”

He chuckles, squeezing you gently back. “I’m home.”

You pull back with a slight frown, feeling your heart ache for him. He looks tired, a little sad. If Jongdae is in a relationship with his Pet, that must mean Yixing had been rejected. You still feel bad for him. “I...uh...How are you?”

“I’m fine.” He pauses, then corrects himself. “I will be fine.” He let’s out a quiet laugh. “You’d be surprised how many times I’ve gone through heartbreak.”

Baekhyun flashes through your mind. You don’t pry.

“How are you?” Yixing asks, eyes narrowing on you in scrutiny.

“I’m ok now.” You answer, rubbing your sore wrists that were tied down yesterday. You can’t help the way your lip wobbles as the memories come slamming back into you. It’s always hard to keep things from Yixing.

He looks at you suspiciously, able to read you like a book by now. “What did he do?”

“He almost aborted the child.” You whisper. You see the way his eyes darken, disbelief and rage in his handsome features. Your hands come flying up in defense, trying to calm him down. “But! He didn’t. He accepted the child. Everything’s okay!”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he tried to murder his own child.” His tone comes out dark.

“He’s scared, Yixing.” You murmur, seeing the way his expression softens.

“I know.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I know, but...” He gives you a hard, stern look. “Are you excusing his actions just because he’s scared?”

“I—” You pause, unable to answer. You are, aren’t you? Excusing every terrible thing he’s done to you just because you know he’s scared and because you love him?

Yixing lets out another long sigh, already knowing your answer. “You shouldn’t spoil him so. Well...I’m not the one to talk. We’ve spoiled him plenty already. I suppose it’s partly our fault he became the way he is.”

“I believe in him." You say finally as he turns to leave. “I believe he’ll do the right thing.”

Yixing takes one last look at you, his expression indescribable. “I really hope he does.”

Baekhyun is just waking up when you enter your room at dusk. He blinks sleepily at you, his face so cutely blank.

“Hey sleepyhead.” You chuckle, climbing in next to him and he pulls you down to him, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

He let’s out a soft sigh, eyes sliding closed again. “Is it night already?”

“Yeah.” You answer, running your hands through his soft hair.

His eyes flutter open again, sniffing the air and then frowning slightly. “Did something happen? Something seems off.” His eyes are glowing slightly, alert.

You tell him what Jongdae’s Pet had told you, recounting their story. Baekhyun growls out, hold tightening on you. “I knew that damn Victoria wasn’t any good.”

You hum in agreement. You get chills whenever you remember her. She just felt...off. If what Jongdae’s Pet said was all true, then Victoria was somehow brought back to life. Who could have done something like that? And why?

You shiver at the thought, snuggling closer to Baekhyun. “Hey Baek?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever thought about the future?” You ask absentmindedly, hands trailing over your stomach. “About our child?”

He stiffens, eyes darting away, turning over and leaving you cold. You expected this reaction, but you needed to ask anyway. You wanted to know what he really thought.

“I don’t know.” He answers gruffly after a pause. “Can’t we just take things one step at a time?”

You want to tell him no, that he should think more about your child’s future but you stay silent, pressing your cheek against his back. He’s still adjusting, still in the process of accepting. You don’t want to push him too far. “Okay.”

He sighs, hearing the soft dejection in your voice and turns back over, cupping your jaw in his palm. “Look, I—It’s not that I don’t—I just—” He struggles over what to say, how to explain but you smile, pulling him into a hug. You breathe him in, feeling how perfectly his body is against yours.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

He exhales, relaxing into your arms. “I’m the worst.”

“No you’re not.”

He goes silent, and you know he wants to disagree but doesn’t want to start a fight. You squeeze him tighter.

Finally, he says, “What about you? Have you thought about the future?”

Your heart bursts inside your chest, surprised by his words. He is asking you? He wants to know? He cares? You can’t help the happiness that fills your soul, the warmth that blooms in you. “Just a little.” You admit.

He hums softly when you begin to tell him, imagining your child playing in the backyard, hoping Baekhyun’s brothers will be cool uncles. You giggle at the thought, hardly able to imagine nine powerful vampires playing with a child. You tell him how you imagine him to look when he first holds the child, almost able to picture the tenderness and love in his eyes already.

Baekhyun scoffs lightly at that, rolling his eyes. “I highly doubt I’d feel anything.”

“You will.” You assure him confidently. “I think you might even cry.”

He laughs quietly. “As if.”

You grab his hand, moving it over your stomach and he stiffens, eyes going wide. He waits for a moment, then exhales almost in...disappointment?—when he says, “I don’t feel anything.”

You chuckle, nodding. You close your eyes, focusing on breathing. “Not yet. The baby will grow bigger and eventually you’ll be able to feel it move.”

He makes a face of disgust, but you know he’ll love it when the time comes. He’d probably want to feel your tummy a lot, can see the look of awe on his face in your head.

You’re so excited. You can’t wait.

“Babies are weird.” He wrinkles his nose. “I can’t imagine something moving inside of you.”

You laugh loudly now, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Well, not as weird as living with nine vampires.”

He snickers at that, eyes going slightly hazy. “I don’t think I’ll be a good...dad.” He says the word like it’s foreign.

“Of course you will.” You say. “You’ll be great. And I’ll be there to help!”

His face darkens, jaw tightening. You reel back, realizing what you had said. You repeat gently. “I’ll be there.”

“I—” Baekhyun looks away again, his heart locked up again. You panic when he gets out of bed. You reach for him, wanting to pull him back but he’s too far away, already on the other side of the room in an instant. “I’m gonna go walk around. Go to sleep.”

He leaves without another word, and you feel your heart crack. You hug your stomach again, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “We’ll be okay...we’ll be okay, right?”

Something deep down tells you it’s not okay.

Previous Chapter│ Next Chapter

Eternal Mini Masterlist

A/N: Fluff! It turned into angst again though, sorry 😅 Not quite sure if I should make the next chap jump through her pregnancy or have it go on for a few chapters...Please let me know if you liked it!

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exkernal · 4 years

Text

Philosophy Class for Rock Bottom Demons: 3/3

Every morning starts the same. After his shower, he takes Jason for his morning walk, rain or shine (though it's usually shine in Arizona). He always stops at the pet-friendly coffee shop just a few blocks from his apartment complex.

It's got nothing on Friends, but Michael finds it charming in its own way.

The early morning patrons are a cross section of humanity. There's the bleary-eyed students with their green hair and nose rings, cramming or killing time with surprisingly affordable coffee. There's the elderly regulars, including the couple who always argues in Spanish, yet at the same time, he always remembers to pick up her extra sweeteners and she always dabs away his espresso-stache. There's the dog walkers in their jogging pants, happy to have a place to relax with their pooches.

Then there's Michael, who's a bit of all three.

To his fellow patrons, Michael Realman is friendly if slightly eccentric, with an equally friendly dog. He can't help himself from talking to whoever will listen. He loves to weave together the story of his human life, sprinkled with embellished little half-truths, like the disapproving, stern father or the love-hate rivalry with his actress sister.

One day his favorite barista, Kelsey, asks if he's married.

Michael tells them that he met his wife a lifetime ago, when he was in a "bad place." He was practically a different person then, one he's not proud of. He can tell they don't believe him--that they can't see him as anything but an enthusiastic and kind old man--but he insists all the same. He says that his wife brought out the best in him, helping him to become the person he is today. She was his partner in crime, who'd gone with him to hell and back, and he's been a little lost since she died.

When Kelsey asks her name, she says, "Eleanor."

Since Chidi left, Micheal's spent his evenings at the clown house. Eleanor has other distractions during the day, like visits with Mindy and Tahani, or strolls down a Senegalese street, but the evenings are for them. The only two non-Janet members of Team Cockroach left in the Good Place. Sometimes he brings chips and queso, and sometimes he brings tubs of Chunky Monkey. Sometimes their watch list is Chidi-approved and cerebral, sometimes it's pure reality TV trash.

"How is it," Eleanor says, scooping a dollop of sour cream and pico, "that crap like Love is Blind is still addictive in Heaven, where I can literally spend my days soaring on a freaking eagle? I keep thinking that I'm going to, like, lose twenty points or something."

"Love is Blind isn't that bad," Michael says. "Okay, the Messica stuff is, but I for one think Cameron and Lauren's relationship is precious. They're love is so pure--" he catches himself, wincing. "Sorry, Eleanor."

"Dude, what are you sorry for?" she says through a mouthful of nachos. "I'm not some fragile little girl who'll collapse because other people are in love. Does it suck that Chidi's gone? Fork yeah it does. But I'm dealing with it."

"Okay," he says. "Then I'm sorry for making it weird."

"You are making it weird by apologizing so much!" Eleanor says, laughing a little. She grabs a throw pillow and whacks him in the chest. It feels like nothing. "So knock it off. We can gush about our feelings and shirt another time. Right now, I just want to unwind with a classic Eleanor and Michael trash bag hangout. That cool?"

"Completely," he says. "Let the trashiness commence."

They sit with his arm around her shoulder and her head resting on the crook of his neck. Michael's relieved they still have this. Though he feels guilty for the thought, he can't help his relief that out of all the humans, she's the one still with him. He misses Chidi and Jason and Tahani every day, but he'd gladly trade them if he can still have Eleanor.

As the episode credits roll, Eleanor peers up at him. "You know, there is something I've been missing since Chidi left, that I think you could help me out with."

"Oh?"

"I've got a certain itch that needs scratching, if you're picking up what I'm putting down."

Michael snaps his fingers excitedly. "Yes! I actually think I am!"

She laughs. "Dude, reign in the adorkableness, or I'm not going to be able to contain myself. But seriously," she adds, voice going low. "Are you interested? Because I know it might be more...complicated for you, and I don't want to ignore your feelings."

Oh, right. In his excitement at finally mastering human coyness, he brushed right past the actual implication.

"It wouldn't be weird for me," he says, stammering a little. "If it's not weird for you, I mean. I just want you to be happy."

"I can think of a few ways you can make me happy," she says, running her fingers through his hair.

He bends down, crashing his lips to hers. He's become quite good at kissing over the Bearimys, or at least, at kissing Eleanor. While the old Michael would've been disgusted by the mere thought, the new Michael craves every touch, from the pressure of her teeth around his lip to the way her thumb glosses over his cheek bone.

"It sounds like you really loved her," Clare says, near the end of their guitar lesson.

"More than anything," he nods.

"You never completely get over loss," she says. "I had the hardest time accepting it when my Frank died. I kept expecting to find him drinking his coffee at the kitchen island or pulling up weeds in the garden. It was a struggle, coming to terms with the fact that I'll never see him again."

"Oh, I think you might," Michael says. He knows that she's heard these tired platitudes ad nausea, but it's true. She will see Francis DiSandro again, once they both pass their Good Place tests. They have that to look forward to. Whereas he knows that he will never, ever see Eleanor again.

He tries to push that thought aside. He doesn't want to think about that now, not here in his friend's dining room, surrounded by her potted plants and twin grandkids' scattered possessions. He spots Ben's open book and Abbie's solitary discarded sock and wonders, fleetingly, what it's like to be a child. That's one human experience that will always be a mystery to Michael.

"That's a lovely thought," she says diplomatically. "Same time Thursday?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

He wonders what it's like to sleep, as he watches Eleanor lying naked under the covers. Eleanor certainly looks peaceful. Innocent, too. The way the sunlight hits her hair makes it almost seem to glow.

She murmurs a happy little sound. Her blue-green eyes flash open.

"This has to be so boring for you," she yawns. "Watching me sleep. I wouldn't be offended if you left."

"I want to stay," he says, stroking her hair. "Besides, what's the rush? I have an eternity of time on my hands."

Eleanor sits up a little. "Are you sure this is okay? I mean, don't get me wrong, the sex is way better than okay--you can it get, demon buddy." His chest swells with pride, despite himself. "But you'd tell me if there were any issues right? Like if it's not cool with you?"

"Of course," he says, smiling at her worried expression. "But you don't have to worry, because I'm way more than cool with it."

He's not sure how she can think that it's anything less than bliss for him.

Dreams are some of his favorite human things (at the very least, they're in his top 200 favorite things) but he could do without the nightmares.

Sometimes he's in the Bad Place during his apprentice days. He hears the familiar soundtrack of screams as he tortures his assigned human, only to realize after he's ripped off its fingernails that it's Jason or Chidi or Tahani or Eleanor. Sometimes his friends are being tortured by Shawn, Trevor, and Vicki while he watches in helpless horror. They beg him to save them, but try as he might, he can't reach them in time.

He wakes up in the dark, panting. It's just a bad dream, he tells himself. He saved his humans, and all of them lived out their best existences in the Good Place.

But it's not enough to stop the flood of bad memories. Michael at his desk, mapping out his grand neighborhood scheme. Michael cackling evilly in Eleanor's face. Michael gleefully tossing humans into the lava pits. Of all of the souls that he tortured, how many actually deserved it? Maybe ten. Ten, out of millions. The kindly, harmless Michael that his friends and neighbors know has tortured more people than any human war criminal.

He remembers what Jason said about guilt versus shame.

Gingerly, Michael gets out of bed, careful not to disturb Jason (the dog) curled up at his feet. He puts on his slippers, stubbing his toe in the process (an experience that's both delightful and painful). He pours himself a glass of water because that's what they always do in the movies whenever they have a bad dream.

He's had so many human experiences now, the kinds he could only dream of before. That peculiar chemical tang in his hair after swimming in a chlorinated pool. Waiting forty minutes on a customer service call. Feeling his stomach rumble with pesky hunger pains, his bones ache whenever he was exhausted yet couldn't sleep, the sweet release of a pee break after a two-hour road trip. Some days it's enough to make him forget that he was ever anything but human, until nightmares like this remind him that he was a demon once, too.

Maybe one day he'll come to terms with being both.

"Eleanor?" Michael asks.

"Sup, demon bud?" Eleanor flashes him a classic Shellstrop smile. "Or should I say, soon-to-be-human bud?"

"That's what I want to talk about," he says quickly, licking his lips. They're in the clown house, waiting for Janet to escort him to the portal. In fifteen, maybe ten minutes time, he's going to leave the Good Place. Who knows when (or if) he'll ever be back? "How do I know this is the right decision? What if I go to Earth, realize it's a mistake, and then it's too late to go back?"

"Having second thoughts, I see. How very human of you," she says. "Let's talk this out. How are you really feeling?"

"Nervous," he says after careful thought. "But also excited. It's an equal mix of both."

"Michael, that's like the most human combo ever," she says, patting his back. "I don't think we ever go through any major change without feeling both nervous and excited at the same time."

"Really?"

She nods. "That's just how it is. Look, I arranged this whole thing because you deserve to be happy. If you really don't want to, don't. But if you're just grappling with the whole all-change-is-scary-even-good-change deal, than I say take that leap."

A leap into faith. That's what this is, isn't?

"You're right," he says. "I'm just being silly."

Her smile is so bright. He wishes he could freeze this moment forever, so he can always see her smiling like this. "You're just being human."

The door opens.

"Michael?" Janet says. Her voice is as pleasant as always, but something's a little off. "They're ready for you now."

The finality hits him like a runaway trolley. He looks into Eleanor's eyes into a momentary panic, because they both know that this is it. Unless he's hit by a truck the second he gets to Earth, Eleanor will have already walked through the door by the time he dies. This is it for them.

Without breaking eye contact, she cups his face into her hands.

"I love you, Michael," she says.

He knows it's not the same kind of love that she has for Chidi, or that Michael has for her, but it means everything to him that she said it.

"I love you, too," he says. His eyes sting. There are tears in her eyes, too, threatening to spill over.

"Look at us saps," he sniffles. "Getting all weepy."

"Pretty pathetic, huh?" he says, dabbing at his eyes.

"Michael, promise me that you're going to live it up down there. That you'll be the most adorkable, bad ass, awesome silver fox that you can be."

"I promise."

That's his last image of Eleanor: her standing in the doorway, rubbing the the tears off of her face.

Today's lesson is on Clare's front porch. It's a warm, breezy day after a week of blistering heat, so they're savoring it together. From the window they can see Abbie and Ben in the living room, watching cartoon dinosaurs. From what Michael gathers, the little T-Rex is friends with the group of herbivores, though they don't all trust him yet.

"Congratulations, Michael," Clare says. "You've officially made it to intermediate level."

He might not be selling out stadiums any time soon, but he's flustered with pride at how far he's come since his first artistic fumbling. If only his friends could hear him now.

"We'll still have lessons, right?" he asks, plucking at the guitar strings.

"Well, I certainly won't refuse if you want to continue paying me," she says. They chuckle.

"You know," Clare says, as Michael strums along to a half-remembered tune. "We could always see each other outside of lessons. We can have dinner sometime, if you want. I know this Italian place I think you'd like, if you're free this weekend."

He looks at her and smiles. "I'd like that."

#the good place #hellstrop #michael x eleanor #eleanor shellstrop #michael (the good place)

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winterisakiller · 5 years

Text

Get Better - Chapter Eight

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 8/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list:@tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @nonsensicalobsessions @theheartofpenelope @blacksuitofdoom @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @wolfsmom1 @just-the-hiddles @theoneanna @hiddlescastle @echantedbytwh

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Large English Breakfast with Almond milk and a double latte macchiato.”

Tom smiled brightly at the barista and grabbed the two steaming mugs from the counter. He weaved his way through several tables towards the back of the small café. The store front was busy enough for a Monday morning; a stream of tired and warmly attired commuters parading in and out in search of much needed caffeine. But sitting in the back of the shop, tucked away by a small working fireplace, guaranteed they would be left more or less alone.

“Alright, one tea.” He placed the white ceramic mug in front of Ben and settled into the cushioned chair opposite, placing his own steaming mug down on the dark wood table. “And my own spot of heaven.”

Ben chuckled, blowing gently on the steaming tea before him. “I see the caffeine addiction is still running strong.”

“Stronger than ever.” Tom laughed, picking up his gently steaming mug and taking a careful sip. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the warmth and the rush of caffeine as the smooth and bitter drink hit his tongue. Bliss. He placed the mug down, resting his folded hands on the table. Ben stifled a yawn, rubbing his free hand over his face. Tom took the opportunity to study his friend; taking in his stooped posture, heavy-lidded eyes, and the tension in his shoulders.

He hadn’t talked with Ben much in the past few weeks and hadn’t seen him in longer; between rehearsals and the birth of Ben and Sophie’s youngest, a boy, neither man had been much up for socializing. Tom had called the afternoon before to check in on Ben (and his newly expanded family) and had been not entirely surprised when Ben had jumped at the chance to get out of the house. “I don’t care when or where, but please take me away.” It had taken all he had not to chuckle at the desperation in Ben’s tone and plans were quickly set for a meeting at a café halfway between their two homes the following morning. “Thank you,” Ben had all but implored before the call had ended. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Tom picked up his mug and took another sip of his macchiato. “How are things with Sophie and the kids?”

A tired but warm smile spread across Ben’s face. “Good…Exhausting, but good.” He took another sip of his tea, his eyes closing briefly, before placing the mug back onto the table top. “Sleep is a fond but distant memory.”

“I can only imagine,” Tom laughed, with an understanding nod. He ran his finger up and down the side of his mug. “And how are the boys adjusting?”

“Kit’s been a bit moody but seems to be settling in. He does however look at Sophie and me from time to time as if we’ve betrayed him in the worst way.” He chuckled softly, taking another sip of his tea. “But Hal seems fine for the most part. He’s been a bit fussy when Sophie can’t hold him but he overall seems to be handling it much better than either of us thought.”

“And the littlest one?”

“He’s been giving us a run for our money. Fussier than either of the other two unless he’s being held.” Ben laughed in earnest. He was drained, that much was abundantly clear, but he happy, albeit exhausted, pride that shone in Ben’s eyes spoke volumes. “So inevitably he spends most of his time in either mine or Sophie’s arms. Though he seems to be taking to the self-rocker Sophie’s mum sent up after Hal was born. Needless to say, we’re hoping it sticks for more than a week or so. I don’t think I can stand watching Hal cry because we aren’t able to hold him too.” Ben laughed again and took another sip of his tea.

“I’m thrilled for you mate, both of you.” Tom took another sip of his macchiato. “Though,” he started again with a raise of his eyebrow, “I can readily admit I don’t begrudge you the lack of sleep.”

Ben laughed and shook his head, pointing a finger at Tom with a knowing look. “It’ll be your time soon enough, mark my words.”

Tom shrugged and shook his head with a soft sigh. There was no sense in trying to argue either way with Ben; he’d tried so many times and it was frankly exhausting. The best course of action, it seemed, was simply to let it be. He picked up his mug once more and took another long sip.

After several minutes silence, Ben tapped his fingers idly on the tabletop and asked. “How is the show going?”

Tom’s face lit at the question, a full smile spreading quickly across his features. “Bloody wonderful.”

“Wonderful, eh?” Ben rested his elbows on the table and leaned his chin against his opened palms. “Do tell.”

Laughing, Tom rambled through details about the play and the people he worked with. The ridiculous way Charlie had taken to try to make him laugh during a serious scene (he hadn’t cracked yet but Tom could admit it was coming) and the pranks he and Zawe had taken to pulling on both each other and, in turn, on Charlie. He talked about Cath and the way she made him laugh, shared silly anecdotes they’d discussed, talked about how she remembered how he liked his coffee after one run in at the coffee shop near the theatre. He smiled, rubbing his finger along the rim of the mug, as he remembered the way her face lit up when she laughed at a stupid joke he’d shared with her the evening before.

In the week that had passed since their impromptu coffee meeting (he refused to let himself think of it as a date), he and Cath had taken to trading coffee runs and talking. She’d asked fondly after Bobby; it appeared the spaniel (the flirting menace) had left quite an impression and he’d found himself contemplating asking her to join them on one of their morning runs. The only thing stopping him (he told himself fiercely) had been the look of disgusted horror she’d worn when he’d mentioned running. “You’re telling me you do that for fun. Insanity. Complete and utter insanity.”

Ben’s voice broke through the memory. He glanced across the table to find his friend shooting him a sly look. “This Cath sounds like quite the woman, to have captured your attention so singularly.”

Tom blinked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Ben, she’s just a friend.”

He watched as Ben’s eyebrows rose comically. “And I’m a tea pot.”

“And aren’t you a lovely one?”

“Thomas, I know you. I know the way you get when you are interested in someone.” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. “And, my dear fellow, you are definitely interested in this one.” He paused for a sip of his tea. “Out of all the people you’ve worked with on this show, she is the one you’ve talked about the most.” He quirked an eyebrow once again.

“She is a friend,” Tom insisted, pausing to take another deep sip of his coffee. “Or at least someone I could consider one, in time…”

“And someone you find attractive.”

Tom grunted under his breath. “That has nothing to do with anything.”

“But you don’t deny it?” Ben countered with a grin.

An exasperated sigh was his only reply for a long while. “Fine, yes she is attractive and I’m not blind to that. But it’s not the best idea.”

“Why ever not?” Ben threw back. “You like her, no one is saying you’ve got to marry her this instant.” Tom narrowed his eyes. Ben simply ignored him and carried on. “I’m just saying don’t lie to yourself. You like her and from what I’ve gathered she doesn’t think you’re a complete waste of a man.”

Tom narrowed his eyes further. Ben burst out into a deep laugh at that which only served to deepen his friend’s already scathing glare.

“Oh poppet, fix your face. People will think we’ve had a falling out.” Tom fought the smirk that threatened to spread across his face. And lost. Ben grinned cheekily. “I’m just saying why not give it a shot? What do you have to lose?”

“My track record with these things is…less than stellar. I don’t want to fuck things up by just jumping in. She’s a good person…She deserves better.”

“That is utter bullshit.” Ben snapped, starling Tom with his ferocity. “Okay yes, you’ve made some spectacularly unfortunate decisions in the past but the fact that you’re pausing to think about them speaks a great deal towards just how much you’ve grown and to just how serious you are about this woman.” Ben reached out and placed a hand on Tom’s arm, squeezing it in reassurance and in understanding. “You don’t have to jump into anything. Just talk with her. Get to know her, be her friend. And see if this…If she is ultimately worth taking a risk for.” He offered Tom a warm smile. “The only thing you have to lose is this…” Ben waved his hand before him. “Fear that’s still holding you back.”

—

Tom shook his head, pausing to tie his laces, the conversation from earlier replaying itself once more in his mind. His mid-morning run with Bobby had taken nearly an extra half hour as he thought over everything Ben had said to him and tried to figure out just what he was going to do about it. Bobby had been utterly delighted with the change and had taken full advantage; sniffing new territory, marking it as his, and finding even more wildlife to chase.

It was still a relatively cool day, though warmer for mid-March, and he found most of the park and surrounding streets were dotted with people, but not as crowded as he would have expected for the time of day. He’d been stopped a handful of times, a few young women and a little boy who pointed at him crying out “It’s Loki, daddy!” as he pulled on his father’s hand. Tom had done his best to be friendly and open with each and every one of them. He’d refused pictures but had signed the receipts and other bits of paper they’d handed him. Thankfully, he’d managed to get away before a bigger crowd had a chance to form.

Not a damned thing was any clearer though when he climbed his front steps and mechanically unlocked and opened his front door. Bobby shuffled around contentedly as Tom unclipped his lead and hung it on the hall tree next to his jacket. He toed off his trainers and jogged up the stairs to shower. He was hot, sweaty, and tired, but still utterly confused. He hated it, hated how indecisive he was being. Annoyed, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into the laundry basket by the bathroom door. His shorts, leggings, and socks were next. As he tossed them into the basket as well, he let out a resigned groan, knowing he couldn’t put off a load of washing for much longer. He could send them to a laundry service, it would certainly make his life infinitely easier if he did, but doing simple things like his own washing or running to the shops on his own helped to keep him feeling grounded. And despite everything, that was something he still desperately needed.

The bathroom light flickered to life as Tom padded his way towards the walk in shower and fiddled with the knobs until he’d gotten the water temperature just so. He all but sighed in bliss as he stepped into the steaming water, letting it soothe his aching muscles and warm him from the chill of the late morning. He soaped and shampooed with a delightful lethargy, not quite wanting to give up the peace and warmth. But the day would carry on without him whether he was ready for it or not. Rinsing thoroughly, Tom shut off the water and rubbed his face with his hands. He reached for the towel hanging on the rack beside the shower and made quick work of wiping his face and rubbing his hair before wrapping the towel efficiently around his waist.

He found Bobby curled contentedly at the center of his made bed. Tom knew he should scold the spaniel and move him, but couldn’t find it in his heart to do so. Bobby rolled onto his back, mouth hanging open and tongue lulling to one side and barked once at Tom.

“You are trouble,” Tom laughed, making his way towards his wardrobe and pulling out jeans, a jumper, socks, and boxers. Laying the gathered clothing on the edge of the bed, Tom quickly dried himself and dressed. It was a late day today and he technically didn’t have to be at the theatre until around five. That gave him plenty of time to putter around before he needed to consider heading out.

As he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the familiar ring of his mobile echoed from the table near the front door. Tom darted forward, managing to grab it and swipe to answer without dropping either the mobile or himself.

“Hello?”

“Afternoon, brother mine.” He could hear the amusement in his younger sister’s voice.

Tom let out a soft laugh. “What do you want Em?”

“Want something? Me? I’m hurt, Tommy. So hurt.”

“Funny,” he quipped, heading into the living room. He plopped himself onto the couch, propping his feet up on the edge of the coffee table. He hit the speaker button and dropped his mobile on the couch beside him. Bobby padded in from the hallway and jumped up beside Tom on the couch, resting his head on his master’s crossed legs.

“And don’t you ever forget it,” Emma chuckled. “Seriously though, you know Jack and I are planning to come see the show tonight.”

“Yes…” A sense of foreboding rushed through him. He reached out and absently stroked Bobby’s ear.

“If you are alright with it, would you mind me swinging by with Allie for a bit? Mum’s coming up tonight to mind her, but I have a few errands I need to run…”

“And they’d be easier sans toddler?” Tom finished, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“I know it’s horribly last minute but I am utterly desperate.”

Tom let out a quiet sigh. “What time do you think you’ll be back? Or is Mum coming here?”

“Um, I should be back by half two…quarter after at the latest…” Tom heard shuffling in the background, followed by a car door shutting. “Come on baby.” Allie’s high pitched giggle filtered through the phone’s speaker. A few moments later his front gate buzzed.

Tom groaned. “Please tell me you’ve not done what I think you’ve done.” The gate buzzed again and Bobby barked elatedly, jumped off the couch and made a mad dash towards the front door. “Very cute, Em.” He pushed himself up to his feet and wandered towards the panel by the door. He didn’t bother checking the monitor before buzzing Emma and Allie in. Bobby continued to bounce excitedly by his feet.

A knock sounded on the door a few moments later. He made quick work of the locks and pulled the door open, using his back leg to keep Bobby from darting out. Emma smiled brightly at him, her daughter clutched in her arms.

“Uncle Tommy!”

Tom’s face brightened and he reached out to take the small girl from her mother. “Hello princess. Are you ready to have fun?” She nodded enthusiastically, clapping her hands together.

A small, warm smile spread across Emma’s face as she watched the sight before her for several moments before seeming to remember herself. “Alright, darling,” she started, clapping her hands together. “Be good for your uncle. Mummy will be back in a few hours.” She kissed Allie on the cheek then smiled brightly at her brother. “Thanks, Tom. You’re the best.”

He raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger of his free hand at Emma. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Emma snorted. “Funny.” A horn sounded from the street. Emma leaned over and kissed Allie once more before running down the walk and towards the gate. “See you in a bit.”

Tom pushed the door closed with his hip and placed his squirming niece down so that he could relock the door. He then made quick work of removing her pink coat as she squirmed and hanging in on the hall tree beside his own. Bobby, excited by the arrival of a new friend, barked once and began to lick Allie’s face causing the little girl to squeal in delight and reaching out to pat the dog in return. Tom found himself smiling at the sight and lowered himself to the floor beside them. There was something so simple and so beautiful about the innocence in which they interacted and he was taken by it so completely.

He sat on the floor in his front hall beside his dog and his niece for what felt like ages before he broke the contented silence. “So my darling, what would you like to do?”

Allie tore her attention away from Bobby with great reluctance and faced her uncle. She scrunched her face in thought, sandy brows nearly reaching her the coppery curls that brushed her forehead. “Park,” she finally answered with a decisive nod of her head.

Tom laughed and nodded. “Park it is.” He let out a soft groan as he pushed himself to his feet and Allie giggled at his efforts. “Laugh now, little girl, but someday you will understand all too well.”

“Uncle Tommy silly.”

“Yes,” he answered with a chuckle. “Yes, I am.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs and grabbed Bobby’s lead from the hall tree. Bobby barked twice then sat still, his tail a blur against the hardwood floor. “Two walkies in less than two hours. You, my lad, are spoiled,” he joked as he clipped the lead and harness around the spaniel.

Patting his back pocket to make sure he had wallet, phone, and keys, Tom grabbed his coat, shrugging it on before helping Allie into her own. Both dog and child bounced excitedly by his feet and Tom couldn’t help the smile which spread across his face. Taking Allie firmly in one hand and Bobby’s lead in the other, the trio made their way from the house and out into the bright early afternoon light.

Next Chapter

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston x orignal character #get better fic #Tom and Cath

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dontenchantme · 4 years

Text

garden of eden - part two

Rated E, Satan x MC.

[no rad au] he was the serpent who had lured her out of paradise. she ought to hate him, but she didn’t.

fics masterlist

She woke up gasping, still able to feel phantom fingers wrapped around her throat.

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead, and she found that her hands were halfway reaching towards her neck – with a sigh, she turned onto her side and closed her eyes, burying her face in her pillow. She wasn’t used to sleeping alone. She didn’t think it would be so…strange.

It had been a long time since she last had to wind down by herself. It wasn’t something that she particularly enjoyed doing. Sure, being single and independent was great, but – she was used to having a warm body lying beside her. And without that, she felt…empty. Incomplete.

She got off the bed and jammed her feet into her bedroom slippers, deciding to go and get a drink from the kitchen. It didn’t feel like she’d be able to sleep again anytime soon.

Shuffling out of her room, she switched on all the lights in the apartment as she walked down the hallway, the sudden illaumination making her feel a bit less lonely. But when she got to the entrance of the kitchen, she hesitated, suddenly thinking about the demon who had come to her earlier in the evening. Satan. Just the thought of his name made her shudder.

It wasn’t quite fear that she felt. She knew it wasn’t. Fear had an acrid stench to it. There was no way she could associate something so bitter with a man that beautiful.

Call my name and perhaps I’ll come to you. She was tempted, honestly. If he was a demon and demons were willing to do anything in exchange for a human soul, then could she ask him to spend the night with her? She peered past the doorway, part of her hoping that he might be standing at the counter waiting for her again, but the kitchen was empty.

Grabbing a glass, she poured herself some water, stifling a yawn as she raised the drink to her lips. She still had work tomorrow and she ought to get more rest, but as the cool liquid slid down her throat it seemed to clear the fog of exhaustion from her mind and suddenly, she was wide awake. Placing the empty glass in the sink, she wondered about what to do next – the thought of returning to bed just to stare at the ceiling was rather unappealing.

Her neck throbbed, and she winced, her hand shooting up to touch the tender flesh – she couldn’t help but dream about him strangling her, dream about how his hands made her nerves sing, how the ruthlessness in his eyes stoked something in her belly and forced sensation into something she long thought numb. Her toes curled at the memory of his smile.

Why was she so obsessed with him? Her eyebrow twitched as she turned on the tap, a flood of water gushing out into the sink – she wasn’t the type to fall head-over-heels for a man she barely knew, least of all when the other party was a literal demon from Hell. But when he kissed her all her normal good sense seemed to merrily throw itself out of the window.

She wanted him with an intensity she’d never experienced before, and that scared her more than Satan himself did. This made no sense. She had to get her priorities fixed.

Annoyed at him, at herself and her overall situation, she washed the glass and placed it on the drying rack, her eyebrows knitted as she tried to think of various ways to pass the time. It was three in the morning. She had a good few hours until she had to get ready for work.

She felt self-conscious, walking down the street with the dagger in her coat. It wasn’t so bulky that she couldn’t carry it around, but knowing it was there made everything feel…exciting.

Not that she had decided whether or not she wanted to use it yet. They were talking about her soul here. And everything she’d heard about sinners and the afterlife made Hell sound like an awful place to be. She’d prefer not to be eaten. Or tortured for the rest of eternity.

The dagger was still warm. She could feel it radiating heat through her sweater – not that she was complaining, the extra warmth was welcome in today’s crap weather. The past few weeks the chill had been relatively mild, but today it was finally cold enough to snow, and God, how she hated the snow. She trudged through the street, desperate to get to her office building.

When she finally stepped into the lobby, shaking the snow off her coat and beanie, she made her way to the lift, pleased that she didn’t have to share it with someone. She purposely came in early today so that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone on the way to her cubicle.

At her desk, she surreptitiously removed the dagger from her coat and hid it in her cabinet. In truth, she didn’t know why she took it with her this morning. But when she was about to leave her room, some eerie impulse seized her and the next thing she knew, she had retrieved the dagger and tucked it inside her outer coat. She still hadn’t figured out what to do with it.

Once she locked her cabinet, she got up from her seat and headed to the washroom – her final moment of privacy before she had to check her emails. There was hardly anyone else around on her floor and no one stopped her to chat, which she was thankful for.

The washroom was empty, and she went to the sink, studying her reflection. Carefully, she unrolled her turtleneck sweater – the bruises were still there, dark and painful. She tilted her head. Underneath the stark lighting, the marks almost seemed to move.

“Pretty bruises, aren’t they?” A vaguely familiar voice suddenly rang off the walls – she whipped around and saw Satan leaning against the door, his hands tucked in his pockets. Amusement danced in his green eyes. “It makes me wonder what you’d look like when you bleed.”

She ought to be afraid of him, afraid of the dark threat that lingered behind his words, but all she could focus on was the curve of his lips and how soft they looked, entirely at odds with the violence that seemed to swirl around him. Satan was smiling, his posture calm and relaxed, but even so she’d never seen someone look so dangerous.

Why wasn’t she more afraid of him? Any rational human being would be. Maybe she had lost her sanity after catching her ex with that woman. “What are you doing in my office?”

“I noticed that you carried the dagger out with you today, so I was wondering if you intended to stab someone.” He shrugged, pushing himself away from the door as he spoke. “It’d be a shame to own something so powerful and not try to use it, right?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Thought you said you were giving me time to consider.”

“Am I not? After all, I’m not ordering you to use it.” His laughter was almost tangible, tendrils winding around her wrists and ankles, coaxing her closer. Rich, inviting, his voice was sin personified. “I just repeated the thoughts that were already on your mind. You know that much yourself.”

He wasn’t wrong, but she’d rather he didn’t say it aloud like that. It made her sound like the kind of person she didn’t want to be. “That’s beside the point. How are you in my office? I didn’t summon you or anything. I’m not even angry right now.”

Satan raised an eyebrow. “You’re not? Really?” He took a step towards her and she froze, her breath trapped in her throat. Was this what it felt like to be cornered by a predator? He walked with the languid grace of someone who had all the time in the world, and every step he took made her more nervous. More excited. More…everything. “You’ve been seething with rage ever since last night, even if you shove your anger below more boring emotions like comfort and satisfaction and glee. Anger isn’t something that can be contained so easily.”

His smile was wry, almost taunting. She wanted to find a way to wipe it off his face. “Right. You seem to do an awfully good job of containing it though, for a demon that represents wrath.”

“You truly think so?” He chuckled, his smile widening into a brilliant grin. He was dazzling. She almost wanted to cover her eyes. “Well, it’d be rather embarrassing if I lacked control over my sin, don’t you agree?” He reached her, and she felt his fingertips brush against her cheek – his skin was cold, so cold. Colder than the winter air outside. Colder than death.

“What do you want from me?” she asked. She had no idea what demons liked to do in their free time but given that Satan was supposedly one of the seven princes of Hell, she doubted he would just pop in to say hello. He must have better things to do.

“You’re a mortal who caught my eye. Nothing more, nothing less.” Satan shrugged again. “It’s been a while since anyone has been bold enough to approach me. To keep thinking about me. To even dream about me.” He leant closer, and her breath caught – she couldn’t move, helplessly transfixed by the tiny distance between their lips. “It’s foolish to be entranced by a demon, you know. After all, the only thing I’m interested in is your fragile mortal soul.”

His hand shifted from her face down to her neck, lingering over the fabric of her sweater. She could feel the iciness of his skin even through the thick material. “But I’ve always enjoyed this. Watching women get their revenge on their worthless lovers. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Melodramatic indeed, but no word rings false.” His fingers tugged at her turtleneck, exposing her blotchy, purpled skin to him. She felt strangely naked.

“Does that make me your newest plaything, then?” she whispered. She still wasn’t afraid. She should be, but she wasn’t. His dark eyes met hers, almost questioning, and then she dragged him closer and they were kissing again, the kind of kiss that devoured the air between them and set fire to her lungs. Her fingers pulled at his blond hair, greedy and uncaring – if he felt any pain, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gripped her hips and effortlessly lifted her so that she was propped on the sink. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist – at this height, she didn’t need to tiptoe to reach him, and something about his nearness made her dizzy.

His kiss was punishing. His tongue forced its way past her lips, and she whimpered, unable to help herself. His hands roamed over her body, untucking her sweater and sliding up her bare torso – she flinched at his touch. It was almost like being thrown into ice water. She wanted to push him away and tell him to go warm himself up first, but then his hands found the edge of her bra and suddenly all she could see was nothingness. Everything was white, pure white.

She could hear herself panting, her body trembling with anticipation – a wire drawn taut, almost ready to snap. She was only vaguely aware of him pushing her sweater up. Satan yanked her bra down, exposing one hardened nipple. He met her gaze and there was a satisfied gleam in his eyes that looked almost feline – that was the last thing she thought about before he took her breast into his mouth and began to suck.

She bit her lip, trying her hardest not to let out a sound – the last thing she needed was for a concerned colleague to barge into the washroom and catch her entwined with a demon. But Satan was so good. Where his fingers were frigid, his tongue was warm and wet and he knew how to use his mouth in a way that drew pleas and whimpers out of her, unconscious prayers for salvation falling from her lips. She tightened her grip on him, hooking her ankles together behind his back, and was pleased to feel his hardness grind against her aching core.

It would be so nice to just strip her pants off and let him take her right there. She wanted this. She wanted him. It’d been so damn long since she last felt pleasure from sex. In her previous relationship, sex was comforting but lazy, something neither of them put particular effort into anymore. Sometimes she didn’t even remember what sex was like. But this was different. She felt almost electric. Like she was being reborn somehow, pushed into a world filled with pain and violence, the erotic whispers of pleasure underneath it all – Satan sank his teeth into her flesh, and she jolted into his mouth, her fingers twisting in his hair. It hurt. It hurt so well.

“Satan, Satan.” She realised that was her voice, her breathy whisper calling his name with the kind of reverence normally reserved for the church. He growled in response, the vibrations of his voice shooting into her nipple throughout her entire body, and she shuddered, longing to whip off her damp panties. She wanted to take his cock into her mouth, graze the delicate skin with her teeth before allowing him to fuck her, the tip of him sinking into her throat. God, how badly she wanted this. She was burning with desire and want, and he was looking at her with that triumphant glint in his eyes, his pretty lips still wrapped around her –

Then someone banged on the washroom door, and she stilled, holding her breath. “Oi! I don’t know who’s taking such a damn long time in the washroom but get out already!”

That voice sounded an awful lot like her boss. She let out a groan, and Satan slowly released her nipple with a quiet pop, still looking amused. “This is all your fault,” she said, hopping off the sink and trying to arrange her clothes as best as she could – her lipstick was smeared and the feverish sheen of lust was still present in her eyes, but everything should be fine once she touched up her makeup and splashed some cold water on her cheeks.

“My fault? You seemed very into it,” Satan answered, and his coy smile made her want to slap him. “Maybe if you do something to get my approval, I’ll show you a better time tonight.”

She froze, wondering if she should clarify what he meant, but when she turned around Satan was gone and she was left alone in the washroom, heat pulsing through her veins.

Do something to get Satan’s approval. She twirled her pen between her fingers, considering her options – she had a few ideas, none of which would be good for her soul.

Was this what it felt like to be tempted by the devil? Satan made a very compelling argument. Some tiny, rational part of her mind told her she was stupid for even considering his proposal – to become a sinner just so he would spend the night with her? She wasn’t like that.

She wasn’t supposed to be impulsive or hot-headed. All her life she’d forced herself to study hard, to work hard, to do everything with the utmost effort she could muster because this was the only way she could succeed. But she was so tired. So sick of putting up this façade all the time. Sometimes she could feel tiny cracks forming in her carefully maintained exterior.

He found those cracks, his voice slithering into the fault lines which bypassed all logic, which gave him a direct path straight to her heart. He coaxed her, persuading her to close her eyes and just give in to the resentment that bubbled away in her chest, festering and malignant.

There was something undeniably powerful and dangerous about him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him, couldn’t bring herself to run away even when he approached her, filled with dangerous intent. She suppressed all instinct to flee, desperate to hear his voice. If Satan was one of the rulers of Hell, then surely Hell couldn’t be such a bad place. Could it?

She pressed her fingers against her temple. Ever since that episode in the washroom, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being split apart – one half of her reminded her that Satan was a demon; that all he wanted was to devour her soul and tempt her to sin. But the other half of her was drunk off him. She wanted his hands wrapped around her neck and his lips on hers, rough and unforgiving. And struggling between these two halves was exhausting.

It would be nice if she could just stop thinking, but probably the only way she could do that was if she went home now and drank until she fell asleep. Did she even still have wine?

Just then, two thick folders were dropped onto her desk and she jumped – when she looked up, she saw her colleague staring at her, chewing on some gum. It was the same guy they all suspected of sleeping his way to a promotion, and immediately she frowned, glancing at the folders he’d so unceremoniously deposited. “What’s all this?”

“Boss wants to start migrating all our data to the new system. We still have data from our old archives, so we need someone to transfer all this over.” He blew a bubble and popped it.

“Isn’t that your job?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. At least that was what she knew based on his job title. She’d never actually seen him doing anything related to data architecture.

“I work with bigger things. This is intern-level work.” He grinned at her – he probably thought he looked cute. She just thought he looked smarmy. “Don’t you have an intern? Just throw it to them. It’ll be a nice change from making coffee all the time.”

She bristled. “My intern left last month, just in case you didn’t notice. And don’t you have staff with capacity? You have an entire team working under you. You don’t need my help.”

Normally she wouldn’t be this confrontational, but something compelled her to stand up for herself today. She didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It was lunchtime, yet she was still at her desk, trying to rush out a report her boss wanted before the end of the day. She did not need an entitled prick trying to flaunt his newfound authority in front of her.

“You’re the fastest at data entry, though! That’s why everyone goes to you, isn’t it?” said prick replied, though she thought his smile dimmed at her response. She bet he had been expecting her to just suck it up and say yes, as always. “C’mon, I need your help. This has to be finished by next week and I’m already struggling with that other portfolio. Please?”

She rose from her chair, picking up the folders and pushing them back into his arms. “Not in the mood to help you today. I’m swamped. Try asking your temp staff – I saw one of them flirting with the receptionist in the pantry.” There was nothing more satisfying than watching his jaw drop, and she hid a smile by ducking her head and turning her attention back to her computer.

He tried to change her mind a few more times, but she was stubborn, and eventually, he left. Though he made a few veiled threats about reporting her to the higher-ups, she didn’t care much – at most she’d look for another job somewhere. Hell, she’d even take up babysitting again if that meant she could escape from corporate slavery.

Her gaze drifted to her cabinet and abruptly, she remembered the dagger she had locked away earlier in the day. She was giddy with triumph and maybe that made her more reckless than usual, but all of a sudden she found herself thinking about using the weapon on all the men who had let her down before, one way or another – starting with her stupid ex, then her asshole colleague, then the boy who had bullied her back in grade school, then the jerk who simply couldn’t stop playing his bass guitar in the middle of the night…

So many possibilities. So many ways to make herself happy. Why did she have to crawl up the corporate ladder just to obtain some illusion of contentment? Things would be much easier if she could just…get rid of the obstacles in her life. And she had the perfect means to do so right there, in her cabinet. She chewed on her lip. It was a frighteningly attractive possibility.

What did it mean to give up her soul? What would happen to her? What punishment should she expect? Perhaps Satan could tell her. She was aware he had no incentive to reveal all this to her, but…if she asked nicely, maybe he would let something slip. Reaching for the cabinet, she let her fingers linger on the lock, her skin brushing over cold metal.

Tonight. Tonight, she’d consider. She wasn’t going to make an impulsive decision, not even if every nerve in her body sang at the thought of getting her way.

#satan obey me #satan x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 6 years

Text

confessions and constellations [2/3]

Summary: AJ finds a crumpled up piece of paper with a poem on it. Not understanding what it means, he shows it to Clem. It seems that the two of them have a mystery on their hands. They know who wrote it, but… who is the poem about?

Preview:

Again and again, he tries to write, tries to push those negative thoughts away. Hell, he even takes a break from the poetry format and just jots down his feelings.

When it's just the two of us, you make me feel like I have a purpose here. Suddenly, survival isn't just the one and only goal day to day. Making you smile feels just as important as living does. I want to stay up late with you and talk and laugh and hold hands and look at the stars and make up stories about each of them. Give them all names and stupid voices until the sun comes up and they fade away.

I know I’ll never tell you any of this. I’ll never tell you how much you’ve grown to mean to me over all these years. You’ve always been there in the corner of my eyes and now you’re all I dream about.

I want

Aasim sighs.

I want you.

How pathetic.

Warnings: Aasim gets hurt in more ways than one. AJ’s an awful detective but he’s trying his best. Mitch pukes.

Author’s Note: This one’s pretty long. Thanks to everyone who read the first part! I really appreciate it! Maybe we’ll find out who the poem’s about. spoiler alert: we don’t not until the final part

Part I | Part II | Part III

---

The bright warmth shining in through his window is deceptive. When Aasim tugs the heavy blanket off himself and kicks it to the floor, the cool air immediately clings to any free skin. He feels goosebumps rise along his neck.

He had another dream last night.

In his mind, the images replay over and over again. He memorizes as much as he can. He flips over onto his side and yanks open his desk drawer to pull out one of his many notebooks. This one is red with a torn cover and some water damage on the bottom half. Drowsily, he flips to the next blank page and pulls the cap of his pen off with his teeth.

He jots down the little details before they flee his memory forever. They’re scattered, barely sentences.

the moon was enormous / not white? it was gold like the sun but cold gold/cold

fireflies instead of stars

in a city? we were on top of this huge building lots of windows

we kissed again

He fills up the page before tossing it onto his desk. He lays back to stare up at the ceiling.

It’s another day of survival. He’s to go check the traps and hunt after breakfast. Then, it’s back to work on his poetry...

Fuck.

Aasim groans, flinging his arm over his eyes.

He really thought he had something last night, he really did. But, after reading back what he wrote it just seemed so... bad? He could never read something like that out loud and expect to be taken seriously. No way in hell.

And, after he crumpled the paper up, it occurred to him once again that the whole poetry thing might be a huge waste of time and energy.

Being in love is a huge waste of time and energy.

It’s not something that’s going to help him survive day to day, it’s not going to feed him at night, and it’s not going to guarantee a roof over his head. Being in love, or rather, having this stupid, intense, mind-numbing crush wasn’t doing anything good for him. If anything, it’s just eating away at him, exhausting both his mind and his body, wasting his time.

And for what?

For some fantasy of love? Of being loved? Of not waking up alone and having someone there to kiss him and hold him and just... be there?

That’s all it is: a fantasy. A dream. Just like the ones he has almost every night.

He could continue with his plan, sure. Write the poem, write the note, confess with the poem, huge romantic moon, and...

... and have one of two outcomes:

Rejection. Eternal heartbreak. Death.

Acceptance. Temporary happiness... Death.

Because that’s all it ever ends with, right?

Aasim rises from the bed and moves about his room, continuing with his morning routine to distract himself with his thoughts.

He’d try his hand at poetry again.

But, he knows the truth.

Those poems will never be heard by anyone but him.

“Live in your fantasy,” he mumbles to the cold, empty room.

---

AJ wouldn’t stop talking about the poem.

“I like the part about the stars showering,” he says. “Like, they’re falling to the ground? Can you imagine if all the stars really fell like that?”

Clem smiles. “It’d be quite the sight, wouldn’t it?”

AJ nods. “But,” he holds up the paper, “it couldn’t compare to his crush?”

“So he says.”

Clem had read the poem out loud twice this morning, and each time it made her feel a little more guilty. And a little afraid. What if Aasim happened to walk by and hear them in their room? Not that Aasim ever comes this way, but still.

“So!” AJ rubs his hands together, “where should we start?”

Clem replies, “We should narrow down the suspects.”

“Sus... sussspects?”

“Like, who we think it could possibly be.”

“Well, it’s not me,” AJ says firmly.

“And it’s not me,” Clem agrees. “And, I think it’s safe to cross off Tenn and Willy, too.”

“And Rosie,” AJ adds.

Clem laughs. “Okay, so who do we have left?”

AJ starts counting on his fingers, “Marlon, Violet, Louis...”

“Mitch and Ruby.”

“Mitch, Ruby, um, Brody, Omar...”

Clem says, “I think that’s it.”

“Here,” AJ pulls a wrinkled piece of drawing paper off his desk and a crayon. “Write all the suspects down!”

Marlon Violet Louis Brody Ruby Omar Mitch

“There,” she says.

“So, we gotta see if any of them have freckles, right?”

Clem nods. “That’ll help narrow it down.”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what to expect. She hadn’t really paid much attention to the tiny details of anyone’s faces.

Well, with one exception-

AJ hurries to the door.

“Hold it, goofball!”

“Clem,” AJ pouts.

“What are the rules?” she says, holding out her hand. AJ reluctantly gives her back the poem.

“You keep the poem,” he mumbles.

“And?”

“And never ever tell Aasim.”

“Right, and don’t tell anyone else,” she pockets both the poem and the list of suspects and nudges him with a smirk, “think of it like we’re undercover detectives. No one can know what we’re investigating.”

AJ grins. “Got it!”

---

AJ’s... not very subtle.

At all.

The second they get outside, his narrowed eyes are darting from one person to the other. He’s tense, ready to strike at any moment.

It’s very obvious that something’s up.

Clem tries to act normal as the two approach Violet.

“Morning, Vi,” Clem greets.

Violet yawns, stretching her arms over her head. “Good morning, I guess. Little cold, though.”

“Seems like summer’s over.”

“Awesome,” Violet sighs. She turns to smile at AJ but is surprised by his overly intense stare.

“Um...?” she quirks a brow. “Are you alright, AJ?”

“Fine!” AJ takes a step towards her. “Hmmm...”

Clem forces an awkward laugh, placing her hand on AJ’s shoulder and pulling him back. He then relaxes, looking up at clem and shaking his head, mouthing quietly, “No freckles.”

Violet shoots Clem a puzzled look.

“AJ’s paranoid,” Clem lies. “Had a, uh, bad dream that one of us is... secretly a robot.”

“Huh?” AJ frowns. Clem pinches him. “Oh! Yeah! Right! Robots!”

“A robot?” Violet scoffs. “Well, hate to disappoint, but I’m human. Though, I’d check up on Marlon.” She smirks, leaning forward and whispering loudly, “Only a machine would think that hair looks cool.”

Clem let out a sigh of relief. Even if Violet doesn’t completely believe them, at least she’s playing along.

“Marlon...?” AJ whips around to search for Marlon. He spots him talking with Brody over by the gates. Before Clem can stop him, he’s wandering over to them.

When he’s out of earshot, Violet says, “Robots, hm?”

“Yeah,” Clem sighs. “Robots.”

“Where’d he learn about robots from?”

“An old book we used to read together.”

“Right...” Violet crosses her arms. “You know, you can talk to me if something’s going on, right?”

Shit.

“Are you sure?” Clem jokes. “You could be a robot trying to trick me into telling you all my secrets.”

“Could be.”

They both watch as AJ stands close to Marlon, pointing up at his face. Marlon’s expression is surprised, and, if Clem’s guessing right, a little offended. Brody chuckles beside them as AJ’s shoulders fall, disappointed.

“Well, guess I should go find Tenn,” Violet says. “Don’t want him to miss breakfast. Talk to you later?”

“Sure,” Clem smiles.

“Have fun finding your ‘robot.’“

Clem nervously waves as her friend walks off.

AJ sulks back over to her, staring down at his feet. “It’s not Marlon,” AJ sighs. “He doesn’t have freckles, he has pimples,” AJ looks away, a little embarrassed, “there’s a difference, I guess.”

“Big difference,” Clem chuckles. “What about Brody?”

“Nope.”

Clem pulls the list out of her pocket.

Marlon Violet Louis Brody Ruby Omar Mitch

“Three down.”

She was positive even before they made the list that Violet wasn’t the one. Sure, she and Aasim got along fine, from what she’s seen, but Clem couldn’t imagine Aasim falling for someone like Violet.

Or Marlon, for that matter. After all, the two of them were constantly fighting about the safe-zone, among other things.

And Brody, well, Clem couldn’t think of a time where she saw Aasim talking with her long enough for any real connection. So, that made sense.

“Look!” AJ points towards the doors where Mitch and Willy are coming out.

Immediately, Clem notices that something’s off with Mitch. He’s hunched over, hand on his stomach and his feet dragging in the dirt. Willy follows him close behind, clearly panicked.

“Suspect!” AJ whispers, already running over there.

“Wait, AJ- ugh!” Clem shoves the list into her jacket and follows.

Mitch seats himself at the table before flopping over, motionless.

“Mitch...?” Willy asks. He pokes the top of Mitch’s head. “Are you dying?”

“Probably,” groans Mitch.

AJ sits next to Willy. “What wrong with him?” he asks.

“I don’t know!” Willy cries. “I found him like this!”

AJ shakes Mitch’s shoulder. “Hey, let me see your face!”

So subtle.

Mitch yanks his head up to stare blankly at AJ, who begins inspecting ever part of Mitch’s face.

AJ pokes his cheek. “Your face is dirty.”

Mitch’s face meets the wooden table with a loud thud and a pained groan.

“Well, well...” Omar’s voice rings behind them. Mitch visibly tenses. “Mitch, what’s wrong?”

“You fuck off, right now.”

“Could it be that you have a stomach ache?”

“No-ugh!” Mitch curls up on himself some more.

Omar shakes his head, placing a hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “Now, what could you have eaten that would make you sick like this?”

“I hate you,” snarls Mitch.

“Could it be, oh, I don’t know, that moldy chunk of beef jerky that I warned you repeatedly to not eat?”

Mitch snaps up, glaring at Omar’s smug face. “I don’t have a stomach ache!” he exclaims. “I feel fucking fantastic! Best I’ve felt in weeks!”

“Oh, really,” Omar says flatly.

“I feel so good I could fight a fucking bear.”

“A bear? Well, in that case,” Omar gestures over to where breakfast is cooking, “I guess you’ll need an extra helping of rabbit so you can be extra strong for that bear-”

Omar doesn’t get to finish. Mitch is up and running back towards the trees with a hand over his mouth. Clem doesn’t dare look, but oh, she can hear everything.

Omar cringes. “Told him not to eat it.”

“Man...” Willy frowns. “He gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Omar smiles. “He’ll feel better once it’s all out. I brought out a water bottle for him, too. He’s gonna need to hydrate after all that.”

Willy leaves the table to run over to Mitch. They watch as Willy pats the vomiting boy’s back.

AJ leans over and whispers to Clem, “It’s not Mitch. No freckles, just dirt.”

Clem nods. She figured. Mitch doesn’t seem like Aasim’s type, anyway. Although, that would’ve been an interesting turn of events. What a couple they’d turn out to be.

Marlon Violet Louis Brody Ruby Omar Mitch

More disgusting dry heaving sounds can be heard.

Omar tsks before turning to Clem. “Breakfast’ll be done soon. Wanna do me a favor?”

“Uh, sure?” She really hopes it doesn’t involve cooking with him. She’d never do that again.

“I’m gonna make up a plate for Louis. When you’re done eating, wanna take it up to him?”

AJ jumps up. “Yes!”

“Great,” Omar seems pleased with AJ’s enthusiasm and doesn’t notice the boy’s inconspicuous inspection of his face. “Figured he’d want something. He didn’t look too good this morning.”

Clem’s brows furrow. “Like Mitch, or...?”

“Like he was sleep walkin’ with Marlon dragging him by his ear.”

“That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Omar chuckles. “I made him some coffee. Hopefully, he’s perked up by now.”

Omar leaves them to check on the food.

Clem sighs. “It’s not Omar,” she whispers.

AJ shakes his head. “Not a single dot.”

Marlon Violet Louis Brody Ruby Omar Mitch

She frowns. “That leaves us with two suspects.”

“Louis and Ruby,” AJ says. He’s anxious, Clem can tell. “Which one do you think it is?”

“...I don’t know.”

They grab their breakfast and sit down. Clem has to tell him several times to slow down before he chokes, and that even if he does finish, he’d have to wait until she’s finished, as well.

While he wasn’t the most patient of them all, Clem couldn’t say she didn’t understand. Honestly, she was just as anxious to see Louis.

Though, that does bring up a problem, one that she’d been ignoring.

She knows for an absolute fact that Louis has freckles.

She knows this because she’s spent plenty of time staring at his face.

She also knows that Louis and Aasim are almost always paired up to go hunting.

Louis and Aasim talk.

A lot.

It’s not impossible that Aasim could have feelings for Louis, and it’s definitely not impossible that the poem could be about him.

But... it’s also totally possible for the poem to be about the other remaining person on her list.

Ruby.

Clem can’t remember if she has freckles or not. But, if she does...

This might mean they need to find a new clue.

---

He’s not hungry, he decides.

Aasim finds himself back in bed with his head tucked under the pillow and the blanket wrapped around his body.

He decides, for today, that he doesn’t want to exist.

He just wants to sleep.

He’ll exist again tomorrow.

But, not today.

He forces himself to count sheep. He pictures them jumping over a white picket fence. One, two, three...

He counts so that he doesn’t think of anything else.

Four, five, six...

Nothing but sheep.

And a knock on his door.

“Aasim?” Marlon’s voice calls. “You in there?”

He remains silent, unmoving.

“C’mon, dude! Breakfast’s ready!”

No.

“Remember, you and Louis got hunting duty today!”

No.

The doorknob wiggles and his stomach drops. He can hear Marlon step in.

“Aasim?”

“I’m sick,” he lies unconvincingly.

“Yeah, me too, buddy. Now, get your ass up.”

Ugh.

---

When Clem turns around with the food in her hand, she sees AJ already climbing up the ladder to meet Louis. She thanks Omar and quickly follows after him.

“Louis!” She hears AJ enthusiastically greet.

“Hm? Oh, hey, little dude.” Louis isn’t so excited. His voice is deeper than usual and weirdly muffled.

Clem balances the food in one hand and cautiously climbs the ladder.

She nearly snorts at the sight before her.

Louis is sitting on his chair wrapped with a heavy, tattered blanket over his head and shoulders, covering his mouth and nose, only revealing his eyes. Said eyes are half-lidded and unfocused. One hand with an empty cup sticks out from the mess of blanket.

Clearly, this is the perfect guy for lookout duty.

AJ takes the empty cup away from him and sets it aside. “You’re still tired?” he asks. “But, you had coffee. That always wakes me up.”

“Bean juice is just a big, fat lie,” Louis mumbles. “A conspiracy, I say.”

Clem approaches him with a smile and offers him the plate. It takes him a few blinks to register that it’s her.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she teases.

“And, suddenly, I don’t feel like death anymore.” Louis sits up and shrugs the blanket off down to his waist. He takes the plate offered to him and inhales the scent. “Never before has rabbit ever looked so divine,” he offers her a lazy grin, “thank you.” He scoots over, patting the place beside him.

Clem glances away as she feels her lips twitch and curl, but before she can move to sit, AJ lets out a huge gasp. When Clem looks back at them, AJ’s face is inches apart from Louis’. This seems to snap Louis awake as he nearly drops his plate at the sudden closeness.

“Well, uhm, hello, AJ?”

“You have freckles!” AJ points an accusatory finger in Louis’ face, nearly poking him in the eye. “Clem! Louis has freckles!”

Heat rushes through her body and pools in her cheeks.

“AJ!”

AJ pulls back, covering his mouth with both hands to hide his growing smile. He points at Louis again, bouncing with excitement.

Clem is left there, frozen, unsure of what to say. Louis’ wide eyes hold many questions.

“Uh, yes? I’m aware?" Louis says. "Am I missing something here? I think I’m missing something,” he says.

“It’s you! You’re-”

“The robot!” Clem blurts out. “Yep, Louis is the robot! Good job, AJ!”

“...What?” Poor Louis never looked so confused.

From the corner of her eye, she notices AJ’s expression drop, turning into something close to a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. He covers his mouth again. Clem can tell he’s mentally kicking himself for almost exposing their secret.

Louis eyes the two of them. “...I’m sorry, but I must be in a dream or something. Is that what this is? I fell asleep on watch and now I’m a robot? That’s the only explanation. Also, how are my freckles a sign of my being a robot?“

“Well, uh-” Clem bites her lip. “It’s just, AJ had a dream last night that one of us is secretly a robot, and that robot could've had freckles, so he’s a little paranoid,” she lies once again.

AJ’s arms fall loose at his sides. “Yeah.”

“One of us is actually a robot, huh?” Louis thinks about this as he chews his food. “My money’s on Omar. How else is he able to take a rabbit and make it taste good? Only a machine could do that. Except, I don't think Omar has freckles."

"He doesn't," AJ sighs.

"Then again...” Louis frowns, “what if I am the robot, but I just don’t know? Like, I’ve been programmed to think I’m human when really I’m just a bunch of wires and buttons.”

Clem didn’t know what she expected really, but she’s not at all surprised that Louis would be taking this idea personally.

“That would explain that charming sense of humor of yours,” she smirks.

“Hey!”

She takes a spot beside him, pushing aside the blankets. She tosses the binoculars over to AJ to keep him busy. “Anyway, never seen you like this before,” she changes the subject.

Louis readjusts the blanket so that it’s laying over both their laps. “Not exactly a morning person,” he admits. “Or a bean juice person.”

“You gonna be okay to go hunting?”

“Are you coming along?”

“I can.”

“Then I’m more than okay,” he grins, winking at her. She rolls her eyes and turns away to hide her own smile.

“Who’re you hunting with?” AJ asks.

“Who else?” Louis snorts. “Aasim and I are the dream team hunters.”

“Aasim,” AJ repeats slowly. “I like Aasim. He’s nice.”

Clem shoots him a warning look.

But, AJ ignores her. “You like Aasim, too, right Louis?”

Clem has to refrain from smacking her forehead.

“When he’s not being a sourpuss or a buzzkill, sure. Aasim can actually be really cool,” Louis replies, completely oblivious to what’s being insinuated. “And, believe it or not, he does have a sense of humor. Sometimes.”

“So, you guys are friends?” AJ pries.

And Clem hasn't felt this frustrated in a while.

Holy shit.

---

After Marlon barged into his room and forced him out of bed for a second time that morning, Aasim figured counting sheep wasn't written in his fate today. So, up he was and at his desk. His notebook lays open, almost mocking him with the number of scribbles and doodled hearts.

Again and again, he tries to write, tries to push those negative thoughts away. But still, more paper is wasted as he tears pages out and crumples them up.

Hell, he even takes a break from the poetry format and just jots down his feelings.

I want

Aasim sighs.

I want you.

How pathetic.

---

"Louis? You up there?"

Clem looks over the side to see Ruby standing there with her hands on her hips. She waves down at the redheaded girl. "Morning, Ruby!"

"Mornin' Clem! Lou with ya?"

"Doc! You've come to take my place!" Louis gleefully jumps up. He scarfs the last bite of his breakfast and gathers his blanket before motioning towards the ladder. "Ladies first-"

AJ hurries past them both and moves down the ladder.

"Or small child first, whatever."

Clem rolls her eyes, quickly going down to stop AJ from getting too close and personal with Ruby. She’s the only other person on their list, which meant that if she didn't have freckles, then the poem was definitely about Louis.

Mystery solved, she thought bitterly.

But, when she gets down there, she grows worried. AJ's staring up at Ruby.

"Uh-oh," AJ whispers.

"Somethin' wrong, AJ?" Ruby asks.

AJ shakes his head and turns around. He, not so subtly, points at Ruby with a panicked look.

She hears Louis huff from behind. “It’s super uneventful out there. Not a single member of the smelly patrol to report,” he says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I hear my bed calling-”

“No, you don’t!” Marlon calls over to them, shooting Louis a stern look. “You and Aasim are hunting today!”

“If that’s true then where is he?”

Marlon approaches them.

“He slept in this morning, he’ll be out soon.”

“Slept in?” asks Ruby. “Doesn’t sound like him. Is he sick, too?”

“No,” Marlon answers shortly. He turns back to Louis. “In the meantime, get ready. And,” Marlon points at him, “don’t be late.”

Louis holds his hands up, dropping the blanket as a result. “Excuse me? I’m ready to go, it’s Aasim who’s late. Guess I’ll just have to take Clem instead.”

“Nope,” Marlon shakes his head.

“Why?” Clem questions.

“Need’ja to help Violet and Brody today. They’ve, uh, kind of been on one lately. If you could try and keep the peace, then maybe they could get some actual fishing done, yeah?”

She’s not happy about it, but gathering from Marlon’s tired expression, it’s been a hell of a morning for him. Best not to argue.

“Alright, I’ll find Vi, then.”

“Thanks.”

Louis sighs, disappointed.

“Don’t look so down,” scolds Ruby. “Aasim can’t do all that on his own.”

“Yeah, I know-”

Clem feels AJ tug on her sleeve, pulling her aside.

“Clem,” he whispers, “Ruby has freckles, too!”

“I noticed.”

“So, which one is it?”

“I have no clue.”

AJ reaches into her jacket pocket. “Maybe we should read it again-”

“AJ!” She looks around and smacks his hand away. “Not here.”

“But, Clem!”

“I, ugh, I know you’re curious AJ, but now is not the time. We’ll talk about it later. Don’t let it bother you, and don’t say anything while I’m gone.”

“Okay...” AJ pouts. When Clem’s not looking, AJ sneaks the balled up paper in his fist into his pocket.

---

The air isn't as cold now as the two boys walk through the woods. Louis is close and unaware of how many times he keeps knocking shoulders with him, a stupid grin stuck on his face as he hums quietly to himself. He carries Chairles up on his shoulder and inhales the forest scent deeply. Since they left the gates, he hasn't shut up. Aasim's short with him, barely giving any real responses.

He can't help it, he just... feels so shitty.

He doesn't know why. He felt fine yesterday until bedtime came, and he had a pleasant dream, but... once his thoughts really get the best of him, it's like a switch is flipped and the floodgates of constant annoyance and agitation are opened.

They check the closest traps and find them untouched.

After the third trap, Aasim notices his hand starting to ache. His grip on the bow is tight, stiff. He shifts it to the other hand to stretch out his fingers.

His mind keeps wandering back to the page he wrote before they left, the one where he jotted down all his feelings then proceeded to rip it to shreds.

Because, lately, it seems like everything he writes is just absolute garbage.

"So," Louis starts, "if you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?"

Aasim frowns. He's not playing this game. “No.”

"The power of 'No,'" Louis thinks about this, "I wouldn't have picked it myself, but it does seem fitting to someone like you."

Aasim tries his best to ignore him.

"Me? I'd have the power to breathe underwater.” Louis sighs then. “I wish Clem could have come with us.”

Of course, he does.

“Yeah,” replies Aasim flatly. “She’d actually help out.”

“Hey, I help. I’m here, aren’t I? In fact, I was ready before you!” Louis protests. “I get things done. Just because I have a different way of doing things then you doesn't mean I'm the slacker here."

Aasim says nothing. He continues to walk until a hand rests on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Alright, grumpy pants, what’s up?”

Aasim shrugs out of his grip and keeps moving. This earns him an elbow to the arm.

“Yoo-hoo, Aasim?” Louis flashes a big grin. “You’ve been like this since we left. Seriously, you look down-”

“Can you just,” Aasim snaps, “shut up. Please.”

Louis stops. He cocks his head, studying Aasim’s disgruntled face with worry. “Dude, are you okay?” he asks. “You’re not usually-”

“No, I’m not okay." Aasim shoves him, hard. "I’m sick of hearing you talk. Just shut up and do what you’re supposed to.” Aasim turns and walks away, still fuming, without another word.

Louis watches him, stunned, hurt. He rubs at the freshly sore part of his chest where Aasim pushed him and follows at a distance.

There aren’t many walkers wandering about. Aasim manages to shoot two rabbits, and they find another one caught in a trap.

Louis says nothing the entire time.

Aasim can feel how heavy the air is between them, and he hates it.

Fucking hell, he hates it.

They come across a walker caught in a trap. It’s missing an arm and a jaw. There’s an arrow sticking out of its shoulder. Skin slides down its bones with every movement.

Louis makes no jokes. He doesn’t toy with the monster. He just takes Chairles, hits the walker twice, successfully killing it, and silently cuts it down while Aasim watches.

The body lands heavy in the dirt. Aasim sets his bow against the tree and grabs the walkers ankles and drags him away. Just as he’s about the reach some bushes, the body gets caught on something.

“Shit,” he mumbles. He hears the sounds of footsteps and Louis’ grunt as he resets the trap. He unhooks the walker's shirt from a rock protruding from the ground. His elbow brushes against the arrow, so he yanks it out. It wasn’t very deep with only the arrowhead being buried within the rotten flesh. Aasim uses his shirt to clean it off, spitting on it to help polish it. He hears a raspy growl from behind him.

Aasim whips around, losing his balance as the new walker stumbles towards him,

“Ah!” Aasim’s hands fly up to shove the walker away from him. The walker falls back, as does he. Immense pain pierces through his side and sends shocks throughout his body.

“Aasim!”

Louis is there, grabbing the back of the walker’s shirt when it tries to crawl towards him and forces the monster back. Aasim rolls onto his side, realizing that he’d fallen onto the arrow. Now, it sticks out of him loosely. “Fuck, fuck!”

The sound of the walker's skull being crushed echoes throughout the forest.

Aasim grinds his teeth together and squeezes his eyes shut. With shaking hands, he yanks the arrow out. “Argh! Fuck!”

Hands are all over him. “Aasim, don’t! Shit!” Louis hikes up Aasim’s jacket to inspect the damage. His flesh is torn, bleeding profusely. Louis, panicked, looks around for something to stop the bleeding before shrugging his jacket off and lifting Aasim up to tie it around his waist.

More horrifying shocks of pain. “Don’t-!” Aasim protests, trying to push Louis away. But, Louis holds his ground, double knotting the sleeves of the jacket around him.

“You’re not bit, right? It didn’t get you?”

“No, shit, it’s just the arrow.”

Aasim tries standing but stumbles. Louis catches him, carefully helping him to his feet.

“Fuck, that hurts,” Aasim groans. He feels tears sting his eyes at the throbbing heat but holds them back.

“Here, let me-”

“I can walk,” snaps Aasim.

Louis takes Aasim’s back and his bow. He keeps a comforting hand on Aasim back as they walk back to the school.

And all Aasim can think is, you fucking idiot.

---

Ruby’s gentle with him.

His back’s to her as she works on stitching up his side. Louis is there, too, keeping a close eye on him and handing Ruby everything she needs.

When they first walked through the gates, Ruby was already grabbing him and chewing Louis out.

Louis tried to explain what had happened, but Ruby was too worried about getting him inside. Marlon and Omar had questioned what happened, but Ruby shooed them out the door. Aasim’s surprised she let Louis stay, though.

Shit.

It’s cold. There are goosebumps rising on his bare back and arms.

He buries his face in the pillow, wishing he could just sleep. But, every time that needle pierces his tender flesh, he’s reminded that sleep is currently just a fantasy.

“You two need to be more careful,” Ruby says.

“I know...” Louis says quietly. “The walker just appeared-”

“You need to be alert, always! What if one of you got bit?”

Aasim squeezes his eyes shut and says, “It’s not his fault.”

Ruby’s hands still.

He continues, “I wasn’t paying attention. He was fixing the trap like I told him to. I was stupid.”

Ruby sighs. “Well... like I said, you both need to be more careful.”

She finishes stitching him up and sits back. “Louis, could’ja fetch some more water, please?”

“Sure.”

He hears Louis leave and close the door. Ruby’s wiping the blood off his skin with a damped towel.

“How does that feel?”

“Fine.”

“Truly?”

“No, it hurts.”

Ruby gives a sympathetic smile. “Well, least yer honest, for the most part. It should start to feel better soon. Wasn’t really all that deep. Ya did do more damage by just yankin’ the arrow out, though. Shoulda left it.”

Aasim nods.

“Hey,” she nudges him. “Aside from the wound, you doin’ okay?”

“Fine,” he repeats.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to.”

Her fingers go to brush back the hair that’d fallen over his face. “Heard you slept in. Usually yer an early riser.”

He says nothing.

“I was thinkin’ about somethin’ today. It just occurred to me, really,” she says. “Do you remember that time we were in the green house and Mitch dared you to eat one of the mushrooms growing?”

A smile sneaks its way onto his lips. “But then I challenged him to a mushroom eating contest?”

“And he ate, like, six of ‘em while you didn’t eat any,” she giggles. “He certainly was a winner.”

“Was he, though?”

“Surprised he lived though that, honestly.”

“Some things never change.”

“No, not really...” Ruby sighs with a sweet smile. “Y’know, if ya ever wanna talk, I’m here.”

“...I know.”

Ruby stands. “You should be okay to walk around, jus’ don’t strain yerself, okay? Do ya need any help getting dressed?”

“No.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Just as she’s about to leave, she turns and says, “I’m glad yer alright, Aasim.”

He starts to count sheep.

---

Eventually, after a few hours or so, he does get up. After he’s dressed and heads outside, he’s greeted by almost everyone, checking up on him and making sure he’s okay. He doesn’t see Clem, Violet or Brody anywhere, or Mitch, for that matter. He does spot Louis on the couch by himself, shuffling a deck of cards with a faraway gaze.

He knows he should go over there and apologize, but fuck, he can’t bring himself to do it.

He sits on the steps in front of the entrance, wincing at the pain aching in his side. He huffs, rubbing at his tired eyes. He wished he’d just stayed in bed. What a shitty day.

“Hi, Aasim.”

He’s startled by AJ. “Oh, uh, hey.”

“How’s your side?”

“Hurts, but I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Aasim nods, not sure what else to say. He does notice that the child seems nervous. It’s likely that he doesn’t know what to say, either.

“Aasim?”

“Yeah?”

AJ looks away and starts fumbling with his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says.

Aasim raises a brow. “Okay...?” he says. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like you stabbed me.”

“No, not that.”

“Oh...” Aasim frowns. “What, then?”

AJ then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “This is yours.” He moves up the stairs and hands Aasim the paper. Then, he begins to ramble. “I-I didn’t show anybody, and I really like it, you know. I don’t completely get it but I like the way some parts sound.”

“What are you-”

Aasim unfolds the paper.

a thousand stories I could write about us in the night sky

His heart plummets into his stomach.

89 notes · View notes

megwritesfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Let Go, Chapter 10/?? (Raven/??)

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. This is work of fiction that I am not making a profit off of.

A/N: Soooo, full disclosure, I have not started the next chapter lol. I am hoping I'll be done in two weeks, but... My schedule has changed. We shall see... *fingers crossed*

Also you can read of FFNET if you want to!

Do you need to catch up? I got you! ->

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

Flashback

“Why are you here?”

Raven folded her arms over her chest as she slouched against the soft couch. “Honestly?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows as she tightened her lips.

“That would be preferable,” the woman smirked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her other hand curled around the pen as she pressed it against the notepad in front of her.

“Well,” Raven sighed. “My pain in the ass team leader has decided to suspend me from duty until I sit down with you, so-“ She’d said to to be honest. “Here I am, Iris.”

The woman scribbled down a few notes, nodding her head, “You don’t think you have a problem?”

“What exactly did Robin say to you?” She was going to have a little talk with him after this appointment. It was bad enough Robin was forcing her to see a psychiatrist, but she didn’t need him talking about her issues to this random woman.

“That isn’t important.”

“Actually it is.” Talking to this woman was a very clear risk of privacy. Raven wouldn’t be surprised if somehow, someone found out about this and reported it to the tabloids.

Teen Titan Half Demon Unstable

It wasn’t like the media hadn’t already labeled her that and a long list of other unflattering epithets.

She didn’t need to give them ammunition to support their case.

“I think it is more important to establish what you think about why you’re here,” Iris told her, resting notebook in her lap.

“I think it’s bullshit,” Raven shrugged with a satisfied smirk. “So, what did Robin say exactly?”

Iris nodded. “Why do you think it’s bullshit?” She pushed.

Either this woman didn’t understand she was sitting across from an impatient half demon or she didn’t care. “Look, I understand that you’re doing your job, but you get paid no matter what I say or don’t say. Let’s just do ourselves a favor here and stop,” she paused, shaking her head in frustration. “You can sit and do whatever for the next forty-five minutes we have left in the session, then I can leave here and tell Robin whatever he needs to hear so I can get back to doing my job.”

“Okay,” the silver haired woman shrugged with a small smile. She delicately pulled her glasses from her face, tucking them in the pocket of her sweater. “We could do that.”

Sounded good to her.

“Or we could talk about why you think Richard felt like you needed someone to talk to?” She smirked as she leaned back with a satisfied little shrug. “I think it would help pass the time.”

Raven felt her jaw loosen in shock as her arms slowly fell by sides, “How did you know his name?” That definitely wasn’t a lucky guess.

“Richard, or Robin as you know him, is a patient of mine,” Iris told her.

Why was she saying this? “Isn’t that confidential?”

“Typically yes, but he requested I share that information with you.” Iris set her notebook on the little table in front of them. “Remember a few years ago when your adversary Slade nearly killed him?”

“Which time?” Raven questioned dryly. To be fair, there were many.

“The time where you entered his mind,” Iris explained. “And created a mental link that saved his life.”

“He told you that?”

The woman nodded, “Yes.”

“And you believe him?” Raven knew the world had witnessed things from superhuman and paranormal. She and her team along with several other heroes dominated the media at times, but there were still people who had trouble believing in things beyond humanity.

“I do,” she nodded again. “Look, Raven, I get that you have been through some things that I will never have the ability to comprehend, but maybe I can help you work through them.”

“Maybe,” Raven sighed running a hand over her face. “You can’t work through some things.”

“Like?”

“You don’t get it.” This was one of the main reasons she didn’t want to come here. She didn’t want to have to open up an old wound that didn’t have a chance of healing. “I’m the daughter of an interdimensional demon and some poor wayward woman from Gotham who thought it would be cool to worship Satan, but she didn’t realize she was basically a virgin sacrifice.”

Raven wasn’t coming back here after today, so she could put a little extra venom in her voice.

“I destroyed the the place that tried to save me, then I destroyed the Earth by bringing about the apocalypse. And even though I managed to save it, I’m still doomed to an eternity of suffering whenever my luck runs out. But, hey, I’m getting a taste of my eternal damnation now, so,” Raven sucked in a tight breath, voice wavering. “Forgive me if I want to drink. snort a little coke, and have sex with random men.”

“You aren’t worried about getting addicted?”

“I’m half demon. I’m genetically a walking sin.” Addiction wasn’t really an issue. She had to worry about the physical effects of the drugs, but her demon side delighted in the use of illicit substances. It was like eating a piece of chocolate. Delicious, but Raven could resist the temptation. “It doesn’t hit my pleasure center the same way.”

Iris nodded, “That can’t be a healthy way to deal with your problems though?”

“Does it matter at this point?”

“Why wouldn't it?”

Raven frowned as she considered the question. “No matter what I do, I’m doomed.” She shrugged, throwing her hands up defeated. “So, forgive me if I’m tired of having to be okay.”

“No one is saying you have to be okay, Raven,” Iris explained gently. “You’ve been through a lot-“

“It’s fine.”

“It’s understandable that you have some things you need help to come to terms with.”

She shouldn’t have said anything. “Can we please just forget I said anything? Look I’m sorry Robin wasted your time, but I don’t think there is any amount of talking that can help with the massive amount of shi-“

“What happened on your birthday a few years ago?”

Raven froze, feeling a cold wave of numbness flood her veins. Her eyes fluttered dizzily as she felt the air drained from the room. “Why?”

“Just a question.”

She felt her chest heave and her stomach twist in painful knots, “What did Robin tell you?”

“Rave-“

Raven stood up, feeling her fingers cracking with energy. “Don’t.”

Iris stood, stepping in front of her carefully. “What are you feeling right now, Raven?” She softly placed her hands around Raven’s wrists.

“Stop! I’ll-“

“No, you won’t,” Iris assured with a little smirk. “I want you to focus on what you’re feeling. Don’t worry about me.”

Raven’s teeth sunk into her lip as she swallowed the emotions and memories bubbling to the surface, body trembling violently.

“What are you feeling?”

“I-“ Raven’s mouth fell open as a silent scream escaped. Tears stung her eyes, mouth twisting in a pain grimace. “What’s the point?”

Raven had done her best to swallow her trauma and wash it down with partying, isolation, and insomnia.

“It won’t get better.”

Flash Forward

“You’re up early.”

Changeling yawned, scrubbing his hands over his face, “First time for everything.” Truthfully, he hadn’t slept. After Terra had come back into their room, there were too many words wrestling on the tip of his tongue. He figured it was best to camp out in the main room for night.

“Or the start of a new habit,” Nightwing smirked, walking over to the coffee maker.

“Sleeping on the couch? Fuck no,” Changeling groaned. He was going to have to talk to Cyborg about getting a new couch. Unless Terra had woken up in a particularly forgiving mood, he figured he probably was going to be sleeping out here for the rest of the week.

At worst, if she was still pissed at him, he would have to go mattress shopping before he moved back into his old room. Either way, Changeling was stuck with that lumpy ass couch for awhile.

“My back is nine levels of messed up, I’d rather not make this a permanent arrangement.”

Nightwing tossed him a knowing nod, “Terra kicked you out?” There may have been a time or two he was on the other side of his girlfriend’s rage.

“Nope,” he sighed loudly. “We had an argument-“

Nightwing’s eyebrows rose with interest as he bit his tongue.

“About Raven-“

What?

“So,” Changeling shrugged, combing his fingers through his hair staring at the wall in front of him. “I figured I should sleep out here before I said something even dumber.”

Oh really? “What exactly did you say?” Nightwing asked, leaning against the counter. His arms folded across his chest, eyes going to the changeling with a hard stare.

Changeling placed his elbows on the table, pressing his hands underneath his chin. “Well,” he breathed, eyes slowly sliding to the masked Titan. “We talked about how Raven decided to leave without mentioning it to either of us, but,” he chuckled tightly. “Somehow she decided you, Starfire, and Cy deserved notice.”

Nightwing’s hand tightened around his mug, head sharply tilted to the side. “Changeling,” his jaw clenched as his mind crafted careful words. “We didn’t know-“

“Don’t,” Changeling warned, tired eyes narrowing. “Don’t sit here and insult my fucking intelligence.”

That was completely fair. “I’m not.” Nightwing still had a promise to keep.

“So don’t lie to me.”

Nightwing set his mug on the counter. “You need to talk to Raven,” he decided shaking his head.

“How am I supposed to do that when she won’t answer me?” Changeling questioned, voice cracking with exhaustion and confusion. “Do you know why she left?”

“You should talk to Raven about this.”

He knew. “Why did she leave?”

“Ask Raven.”

Changeling clenched his fist, feeling his frustration bleed into his temper. “If she’s in trouble, we have a right to know!”

Nightwing lowered his eyes, exhaling loudly. “You need to ask Raven.” He knew Changeling was trying to pick past his calm responses to trigger an emotional confession. The best thing he could do was remain indifferent and avoid reacting.

“Is it her father?!”

“Again, you would have to ask Raven.”

“Is she sick? Dying?!” It wouldn’t make sense for her to transfer to another team in that situation, but he was getting desperate at this point. “Does she hate California?”

“I’m sure Raven will tell you when she’s ready.” Nightwing knew she probably wouldn’t, but these words were the best he could offer at this point.

Changeling roughly leaned back in his chair. “She’s got till the end of the week to contact me.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ask Raven.” That line seemed to work just fine with him, so Changeling figured he could borrow it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“I miss the tipi.”

Roy laughed as he kicked his feet up on the dashboard. “You miss the mosquito bites?”

Raven’s fingers strummed against the wheel as she continued driving. “I,” she started, checking her side mirror as she changed lanes. “Did not say that.”

“Well, mosquitos were part of the whole tipi experience.”

“So was delicious roasted chicken, peace and quiet, s’mores-”

The redhead released a delighted little moan remembering the delicious gooey chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker delights. They’d gone through at least three bags of marshmallows and an obscene amount of candy bars, but it had been worth it. “God, those things were delicious.”

Raven nodded, “We should go back.” The peace and the amazing view definitely made it hard for her to leave, but s’mores were enough to make her want to just abandon whatever her future held to just live under the sky and eat by the fire every night.

“And miss the splendors of Kansas!” Roy’s hands waved at the passenger side window at the view of the land.

Raven looked at the road ahead of them, “It’s flat.” She wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving through Kansas, but she found herself amazed and startled by how even the ground was.

“The Great Plains.”

Raven nodded, leaning her head back as their drive continued. “Yeah.” They’d flown over this area a dozen times on their way to Gotham and Steele, but she never realized how flat the ground actually was. She figured it was the aerial view of the plane causing the illusion. “They weren’t kidding.”

He laughed, picking up the water bottle between them, “I can drive for awhile if you wanna take in the sights.”

She smothered a chuckle tickling up the back of her throat as she looked to left and then right. “It’s a shame I don’t have my cell phone. Could’ve gotten a picture of the wide open road for my scrapbook.”

“Hey now!” He pointed a playful finger at her and gently poking her shoulder. “I had to literally drag you to get you to take a picture at the Four Corners.” Roy had quite literally picked her up and carry her to the intersection of the four states to get a picture of her at the monument. “And, if you really want a picture...” He slowly pulled out his phone, waving it. “I also didn’t know you scrapbooked.”

“I think I need one.” Raven nodded, looking ahead to the animal standing at the gate ahead. “I need to remember that horse.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. “Pull over. We’ll get a picture.”

She shook her head laughing, “No way. We’re not trespassing.” Even though she was against his request, Raven found herself slowly pulling the car over.

“You need a picture with Eli.”

“Eli?” Raven tilted her head looking at the grey horse a few feet away from them.

“He looks like an Eli.”

She leaned over taking a good look at the horse, “I’m not entirely sure that horse is a boy.”

“Hmmm…” Roy unbuckled his seatbelt, quickly hopping out of the car. He walked over to the gate crouching down to check for proof. “Yeah, um…”

Raven crumpled over the steering wheel as she howled at his boldness.

“Eli is definitely a boy!” He shouted with a firm nod.

“You’re ridiculous,” she sighed. Without question, she followed him out of the car approaching the horse. Raven took a step closer to the gate opening her palm to the horse. “And his name is clearly Theodore.”

“Theodore?” Roy snicked.

“Theodore.” A slow smile grew on her lips as she watched the creature lower it’s head toward her a bit. “Or Theo.” She gently placed her hand above his nose giving the horse a soft pat.

“He doesn’t look like a Theo,” Roy teased taking a step back as he raised his phone to take a picture. “Rae!

“Uh,” she turned her head, catching him with the phone raised. “You’re taking a picture of me?”

“You wanted one with Eli.”

Her eyes narrowed at him with a little smile as he horse nuzzled against her hand. “You mean Theodore.”

“Ha!” Roy cackled, stepping back as he couldn’t contain his amusement. “What happened to Theo?”

Raven shrugged, moving her hands underneath the horse’s chin happily. She couldn’t help but wonder if horse’s wagged their tails with delight as dogs did. “His friends call him Theo.”

“Are you saying Eli and I aren’t friends?”

“I’m saying,” she chuckled, delighted at the little whinny. “I think a couple of sugar cubes would help. I wish we could give him a couple marshmallows.”

“Eli likes apples better.”

She rolled her eyes, “Let me see the picture.”

“You remember how to use one of these things?” Roy questioned, holding the phone out to her in one hand his other hand out to the horse.

“Yes, but,” she took the phone from him smiling at the candid image of herself. Her eyes were wide and awe stricken as she faced the camera, the other hand rested on the horse. “I’m kind of enjoying life without it.” For the past couple days she hadn’t felt changed by whatever was going on at Titans West.

It surprised her how apathetic she felt toward her unfinished conversation with Changeling.

The physical distance away from him caused her heartache, but the mental space allowed her head to clear. Raven wasn’t sure what to make of it.

The clarity was nice though.

“Pink cloud.”

What? “Pink cloud,” Raven repeated, looking up at him.

“It’s an AA term,” he told her softly as he leaned against the fence. “It’s the feeling you have really early on when you first get sober. Everything is clear and,” Roy inhaled deeply as he looked out into the field. “You feel good because you’ve taken a step away from self destruction, and you finally feel in control.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone as she leaned against the fence. “Is that bad?” She raised the phone, capturing an image of him. “The pink cloud sounds like Kori land.”

Roy chuckled, nodding, “It’s nice.” The pink cloud was happy, warm, and safe. He remembered one of the guys in AA describing it like being wrapped in a warm fleece blanket after being left out in the cold for years. That warmth allowed your mind to reset and make sense of chaos for the first time in awhile.

“It is.” She beamed showing him the photo.

He smirked, chuckling quickly at the photo she’d taken.

“I think I may have misjudged the Great Plains,” Raven whispered looking out into the field beyond the fence.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that eventually clouds faded.

“I would have to say so.” Roy carefully watched her.

He remembered a month after the first time he’d gotten sober. After the nausea and cravings had faded, Roy was able to find peace and clarity. He was sitting with his sponsor in a stuffy church after an AA meeting. The hot summer sun illuminated the stained glass as he felt himself melt against the pew. He couldn’t forget that moment.

No matter how he tried, Roy found himself clinging to that memory

The stale coffee and powdered sugar clung to his senses when he recalled the moment the clouds in his mind faded. For the first time, he didn’t need the burn of vodka or the pinch of an injection in his veins. Warm feeling of resolution washed over him as sweat beaded down his body.

It was the first time Roy believed he was going to be okay.

That he was going to survive this.

“We should get some ice cream.” Raven sighed as her hands pressed into top rung of the fence, leaning into the breeze.

Roy had also relapsed a week after the clouds had dissipated.

#teen titans #teen titans fanfiction #raven #beast boy #bbrae #speedy #speedyrae #royrae #let go

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winterisakillerwrites · 4 years

Text

Get Better - Chapter Eight

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 8/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Large English Breakfast with Almond milk and a double latte macchiato.”

Ben chuckled, blowing gently on the steaming tea before him. “I see the caffeine addiction is still running strong.”

Tom picked up his mug and took another sip of his macchiato. “How are things with Sophie and the kids?”

“I can only imagine,” Tom laughed, with an understanding nod. He ran his finger up and down the side of his mug. “And how are the boys adjusting?”

“And the littlest one?”

Ben laughed and shook his head, pointing a finger at Tom with a knowing look. “It’ll be your time soon enough, mark my words.”

After several minutes silence, Ben tapped his fingers idly on the tabletop and asked. “How is the show going?”

Tom’s face lit at the question, a full smile spreading quickly across his features. “Bloody wonderful.”

“Wonderful, eh?” Ben rested his elbows on the table and leaned his chin against his opened palms. “Do tell.”

Tom blinked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Ben, she’s just a friend.”

He watched as Ben’s eyebrows rose comically. “And I’m a tea pot.”

“And aren’t you a lovely one?”

“She is a friend,” Tom insisted, pausing to take another deep sip of his coffee. “Or at least someone I could consider one, in time…”

“And someone you find attractive.”

Tom grunted under his breath. “That has nothing to do with anything.”

“But you don’t deny it?” Ben countered with a grin.

An exasperated sigh was his only reply for a long while. “Fine, yes she is attractive and I’m not blind to that. But it’s not the best idea.”

Tom narrowed his eyes further. Ben burst out into a deep laugh at that which only served to deepen his friend’s already scathing glare.

“My track record with these things is…less than stellar. I don’t want to fuck things up by just jumping in. She’s a good person…She deserves better.”

—

“Hello?”

“Afternoon, brother mine.” He could hear the amusement in his younger sister’s voice.

Tom let out a soft laugh. “What do you want Em?”

“Want something? Me? I’m hurt, Tommy. So hurt.”

“And don’t you ever forget it,” Emma chuckled. “Seriously though, you know Jack and I are planning to come see the show tonight.”

“Yes…” A sense of foreboding rushed through him. He reached out and absently stroked Bobby’s ear.

“If you are alright with it, would you mind me swinging by with Allie for a bit? Mum’s coming up tonight to mind her, but I have a few errands I need to run…”

“And they’d be easier sans toddler?” Tom finished, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“I know it’s horribly last minute but I am utterly desperate.”

Tom let out a quiet sigh. “What time do you think you’ll be back? Or is Mum coming here?”

“Uncle Tommy!”

Tom’s face brightened and he reached out to take the small girl from her mother. “Hello princess. Are you ready to have fun?” She nodded enthusiastically, clapping her hands together.

He raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger of his free hand at Emma. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Emma snorted. “Funny.” A horn sounded from the street. Emma leaned over and kissed Allie once more before running down the walk and towards the gate. “See you in a bit.”

He sat on the floor in his front hall beside his dog and his niece for what felt like ages before he broke the contented silence. “So my darling, what would you like to do?”

“Uncle Tommy silly.”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Cath #Get Better

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canniballistics · 8 years

Text

Olive Branches

fandom: wolf 359 pairs: none ao3 version here. written for DigitalMeowMix for yuletide 2016! it was an absolute delight to write ;u;

Tired of wrangling her new crewmates into cooperating and sick of expecting a mutiny at any time, Lovelace decides not to follow up when she hears a couple of them planning. Are they actually plotting against her, though? Or is it something else entirely? Plus, bad puns, a makeshift celebration, holy hell, and an offense to life, the universe, and everything.

"Come ooon!"

He was wheedling, but that wasn't any different from normal. In fact, it was actually becoming something of a comfort. A bit of normalcy in the middle of what was absolutely a neverending nightmare cycle of catastrophe and fixing and catastrophe and fixing. As obnoxious as it could be, from time to time, she actually somewhat enjoyed it.

"Can't she hear us right now? I don't know if you've thought this plan all the way through."

She could hear them. They didn't know it, but she could.

"She can't. It'll be fine! Now are you in, or out?"

A sigh. She should have figured. She should have known something like this would happen, knew something like this would happen; and she knew she should stay, to figure out what they were planning, how they were going to undermine her. But for some reason, today, she couldn't. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to find out. She'd had enough of treachery and betrayal and anticipating the worst; today, she would give it a rest.

Lovelace pushed away from the wall, moving herself along the corridors back up to the bridge. She'd noticed Eiffel and Minkowski acting shifty when they thought she wasn't looking; Eiffel had grabbed Minkowski, and Lovelace tailed them as they snuck off to Selberg — Hilbert's old lab, the one that Eiffel had let slip Rhea had no eyes on. Whatever went on in there, she was blind to it. It made a pretty decent war room to plan in, since one of their co-conspirators was incapable of lying to her commanding officer.

...Hera. Her name was Hera now. Not Rhea. Her name was Hera, and she was...something. A personality all her own. In all honesty, she liked Hera a lot better than Rhea. Hera could actually respond to jokes.

"Hera."

"Yes, Captain?"

Lovelace didn't want to wonder just how eager Hera would be to help Eiffel and Minkowski with their mutiny. Best to keep both of their minds off such things, at least for a little while. "What's the saltiest fish in the sea?"

It took a minute for Hera to respond. "Uh... What?"

"It's a joke. A pun, actually." Lovelace didn't look up as she pulled out navigational charts, comparing them with notes on the shuttle's repair progress and projections. "What," she repeated, "is the saltiest fish in the sea?"

"I..." Hera paused. "I know the correct answer, but if it's a pun, I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me." Was that resignation in her voice? Hatred? Lovelace didn't want to think so, but there was a good chance of it. "What is the saltiest fish in the sea?"

"Tuna."

There was silence on the bridge. At this point, Lovelace was very pointedly not looking up, partially because she almost expected to see a quizzical face staring back at her like she was insane, but mostly because if she did, she might start laughing. It was a stupid pun. A really stupid pun. But it was so bad it was good, and one of her favorites.

Finally, finally, Hera responded. "Excuse me? How is tuna the saltiest fish in the sea? That's a terrible joke, tuna aren't even comparable to—"

"It's a chemistry joke, Hera. Remember, joke? Not literal." Lovelace cleared away the navigational charts, instead pulling up the list of repairs she still needed done. This one was a little less depressing. A little. "Na is the symbol for sodium on the periodic table of elements, right? It's 2Na. Tuna."

Hera didn't say anything, and after a few minutes it began to feel like an eternity. Lovelace stood there, listening to the ambient noises of the station, the quiet hissing of air being filtered in and out of the room, the low groans as the hull creaked. Oh god. She hadn't fried Hera's personality matrix with a bad pun, had she? "Hera?"

"That is the worst pun I've ever heard. And that's including the ones Officer Eiffel has told me."

Finally, Lovelace laughed. "Wow. That bad, huh? I'm honored, Eiffel does seem like a fount of useless phrases."

"Pft." If Hera had a physical body, Lovelace was positive she'd be shaking her head. "Just make sure he never hears that one. I'm pretty sure he stores all the really bad jokes to use on Commander Minkowski when she least expects it."

Almost as if it were divine providence, the doors to the bridge whooshed open, and Eiffel and Minkowski walked in. Both their eyes narrowed once they noticed Lovelace, though at least Eiffel's look was less suspicious.

"Did I just hear something about bad jokes? Did I miss somethin' good?" He strode in past Minkowski and Lovelace, overly casual and way too obvious with it as he relaxed into a nearby chair. "C'mon, don't be stingy. Share with the class, ladies!"

"No. Please be stingy," Minkowski groaned. She looked exhausted. So did Eiffel. Lovelace couldn't help feeling a little guilty for working them both so hard. Then, she remembered hearing them plotting. The guilt evaporated a shade. Minkowski brushed her hair out of her face, attempting to tie it back into a tight ponytail. "If I ever hear another bad joke, it'll be way too soon."

"Are you sure?" Lovelace couldn't help it, smirking just a little at her. It was an olive branch, a tiny one. A shred of camaraderie, despite knowing about their plot. She understood, after all. If she were in their position, she would probably do the same. "I'm told this one is worse than all of his previous works."

"Now you've gotta tell me," Eiffel insisted. "Captain, bad jokes only make me stronger, and if it's as bad as you say then we gotta get my power level to over 9000."

Lovelace frowned. It could only be another of his ridiculous pop culture references, but… what did that even mean? She looked at Minkowski, who only shrugged, shook her head. "Hera?"

"Nnnope."

"One of these days, Eiffel, one of your references is going to make sense to one of us." Lovelace rolled her eyes at him, a short grin. "One of these days."

"Knowing the two of you?" He yawned, stretching as he did. "Probably not ever gonna happen. Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop trying, though. C'mon, did neither of you watch any Dragonball Z when you were kids? No, wait, don't tell me. You were both too busy with your Terminator training to watch cartoons. Figures."

Lovelace couldn't help a small chuckle. "I can neither confirm nor deny those charges." And in the way most contagious things went, she raised a hand to stifle her own yawn. "We worked pretty hard today. Think it might be time to call it a night, huh?"

"Really? You're giving us the night off?" Eiffel pulled out a watch, whistling low. "Captain, it's only 1900 hours. Are you feeling all right? There's still a few more things to do—"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, I was trying to be generous, but if you want a few more tasks, that can always be arranged."

Minkowski shot him a glare, and almost immediately, Eiffel jumped back out of his chair. "Nope! Never mind, I'm good, thanks! Night, Captain!"

It didn't escape her that both he and Minkowski left together after a polite, "Good night, Captain Lovelace," from Minkowski. She allowed herself a small smile at seeing how close they were, unable to help wondering if they'd have ever become friends if they weren't on this mission. Knowing Eiffel, probably not. So, one good thing had come from this hellscape they were all trapped in.

That was a comfort to think about, at least.

Lovelace took a deep breath, running a few more scans on the shuttle before shaking her head. She couldn't concentrate. Hera, Minkowski, and Eiffel reminded her too much of her own crew, of Fourier, Hui, Lambert, and Fisher. A slightly smaller crew this time, obviously, but the camaraderie was there, the genuine caring for each other. Of course, there was also the fact that Selberg was still alive, was going by Hilbert now, but as long as they kept him away from her, she would suffer his continued existence.

This time when she called Hera's name, it was quiet, almost none of the joviality from before. "Hera?"

"Yes, Captain?"

Honestly, she wasn't sure she wanted to ask this question. It would bother her, though, if she didn't. If she didn't at least find out. "Obviously, Cutter didn't tell Eiffel and Minkowski about my crew and I before sending them on this mission." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the answer. "Did they tell you?" A pause. "I mean, did they keep information about us? Is there anything in your databanks about us?"

"One moment, please." Hera was silent then, and Lovelace took the opportunity to marvel at how efficient she was, even with all the things Eiffel told her had happened. She was such a contrast to Rhea and the beeps she could only give in response. And when she finally answered, it didn't surprise Lovelace at all. "I'm sorry, Captain Lovelace. There's nothing about you, your crew, or even another Hephaestus station in my memory."

Lovelace sighed. It didn't surprise her, but that didn't mean it wasn't still a bit of a disappointment. Knowing what she did of Command, she wouldn't have been surprised if they'd swept all traces of their existences from the face of the Earth, too. "I didn't think so. Thank you, Hera."

"That's not to say they don't have records somewhere, Captain!"

Lovelace narrowed her eyes, looking up. "Hera?"

She sounded a little cowed, almost embarrassed at the exclamation. "That is, I mean— I'm sure they probably have all the files on you still, somewhere, and just didn't give me access. They had to know what they'd need to improve...upon..." There was an awkward pause. "Sorry, Captain Lovelace. I didn't mean to say it like that."

There was a dark little laugh. "It's all right, Hera. I get it. And you know what, you're probably right." Just one more thing to take back when she finally got back to Canaveral.

"Captain?" That surprised her, and Lovelace cocked her head. "Can I... Why do you ask?"

Ah. She hummed. "I don't remember where I heard it, exactly." Lovelace busied herself with clearing her workspace, everything back in its proper place. "There's a belief out there that when someone dies, it's not really the end. They're still alive, as long as someone remembers them." A deep breath. God, she missed them. Even Lambert, that stick in the mud. "I still remember them. If Command wants to erase us, they're going to have to go through me first." Her fist closed, knuckles pressing into the console in front of her. "And when I get back, I'm taking whatever they have on us. As far as I'm concerned, they don't deserve to even say their names."

Hera didn't say anything while Lovelace finished tidying up. It was all right. She didn't really expect her to, especially not if Hera believed she'd really leave her behind when they left. She made her way down the winding corridors to the quarters she temporarily called her own — the irony that they were Hilbert's didn't escape her. As she changed out of her uniform, started to wind down for the night, Hera finally spoke up again.

"You're a very brave woman, Captain Lovelace. I'm sorry they did this to you."

Lovelace closed her eyes. She wasn't brave. She was angry. She was angry, and she was going to rain holy hell on Cutter and everyone else who'd decided her crew was expendable. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain. Good night."

"Good night, Hera."

She spent the evening reviewing Eiffel and Minkowski's logs, and when she could no longer stand reading about the second Hephaestus mission, turned off the lights and went to sleep.

Lovelace woke with her former crew's voices echoing in the back of her head, Lambert scolding Fisher and Fourier as they laughed; it was a strange sensation, at once unsettling and yet comforting. She hadn't thought about them very often since boarding the new Hephaestus. Sure, she'd thought about them, about how what had been done to them was unforgivable and wrong, but not the people themselves. It was...nice to dream about the people, rather than reliving the nightmare of losing everyone one by one.

When she got to the bridge, she was surprised to find it empty. She'd given up on Eiffel waking before 1000 hours, but Minkowski was always either awake before her, or just on her heels to it. To find her not in the bridge, even after Lovelace had allowed herself an extra fifteen minutes to fully wake, came as a bit of a shock.

"Morning, Hera."

"Good morning, Captain. Or, whatever passes for morning here. You know how Wolf 359 never..sets, or anything."

Lovelace laughed. "Yeah, I'm familiar. Thanks for maintaining such a steady clock for us to judge by, by the way."

"Oh, it's nothing," Hera deflected, but there was a note of pride in her voice. "Thank you for noticing! You humans don't seem to understand just how important it is to maintain a normal routine every day. Flesh bodies are so unreliable."

A pause. "Uh huh. I'm not sure I want to know," Lovelace grinned.

"That's probably for the best."

Lovelace shook her head, but couldn't wipe the smile from her face. God, she'd missed this. "Hey, speaking of routine, can you tell me where Lieutenant Minkowski is? She's normally here before even me, it's almost weird not to see her."

"One second, please."

Lovelace stretched as she waited. How convenient would it be to be a near omni-prescient AI? Hera could scan the entire station within seconds. Maybe she was onto something about flesh bodies being inconvenient.

"Ugh!"

Lovelace frowned. That was new. "Hera? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hera grumbled. "She and Eiffel keep going into that room. The one I can't see. He told you about it. If you're looking for Commander Minkowski, you'll find her there." Lovelace could almost imagine her crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she continued, "I hate it when I can't see what's going on in my own station!"

That sobered Lovelace's mood a little. She'd nearly forgotten about the duo plotting yesterday. She took a deep breath, pushing away from the console she'd been holding onto. "Thanks, Hera. How about this: I'll go find out what they're doing, since you helped me find them. We'll figure out what they're doing."

"Are you sure, Captain? It might just be nothing."

"Oh, I'm sure." They'd wanted to make sure they were secretive enough yesterday. Time to figure out what their plan was, and put a stop to it.

The first sign that something was up was the marker floating in the middle of the hallway toward Hilbert's old lab. Lovelace stared at it for a few seconds before plucking it out of midair. What the hell? She paused on the threshold, trying to listen around the corner to see if she could hear anything; when all she got was hushed whispers, she closed her eyes. Sighed. So it would come to this, huh? She took a deep breath and swung around the corner—

—and just narrowly avoided crashing directly into Eiffel.

"Whoa! Captain Lovelace, careful! Are you okay?"

"I, uh— Yeah. Yes. I'm fine," she stammered. She hadn't expected to literally run into one of them. And now that she was actually in the room with them, it...didn't look like some kind of dastardly mutiny plan at all. In fact, it looked like... "What are you two doing?" She asked, nearly as confused as she'd been on seeing the Hephaestus again.

"Did we not tell you?" Eiffel looked over his shoulder at Minkowski, who had her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she worked. "Sorry, Captain, it was kind of rushed— C'mon in!" And as he ushered her into the room, he stuck his head back into the hallway, calling out, "Sorry, Hera! Borrowing the Captain for a little while!"

There was an unintelligible protest before the door slid shut behind them, and as Eiffel explained what they were doing, Lovelace couldn't help but laugh. She'd been stressing over this? She shook her head, unsure whether she'd underestimated this crew, or if she'd overestimated them. But—

"All right, I'm in," she said. "Where do I start?"

Eiffel grinned, handing her a handful of materials. "Get to work, Captain."

A few hours passed before any of them left the lab after that. Hilbert joined them once or twice to give updates on the project he'd been working on for them, giving her a wide berth as he reported to Eiffel. Lovelace noted silently that, interestingly enough, even though both of them technically outranked him, they were deferring to him for this. No doubt it was his plan, the thing he'd been trying to persuade Minkowski about yesterday. The fact he was awake so early was impressive enough by itself; that Minkowski and Hilbert were both following his directions was just ridiculous. It was endearing, though, and Lovelace found herself taking to the work.

When they were finally ready, they gathered together to concoct the final stage of the plan, and once the details were ironed out, they nodded conspiratorially, and readied to fulfill their parts.

Minkowski was first out of the room. "Hera, will you help me out? I want to see if we can patch you into that room, so that you don't have any blind spots anymore."

"Finally," Hera exclaimed. "We might be able to go in through the power conduits in engineering..."

Her voice trailed off, following Minkowski as she moved towards the engineering section. As soon as they were out of sight, Eiffel and Lovelace shot into the hall, making their way towards the comms room as quickly as they could. There was no doubt Hera could still see them, but it helped to have her attention split elsewhere. The two of them scrambled to and fro across the comms room, sticking signs and cut-out shapes all over the walls and non-vital equipment. Wherever they could, and by the time Minkowski returned, Hilbert had joined them with his contribution. He was also, quite noticeably, the only one who didn't chime in when they shouted.

"Uh, guys?" Hera sounded troubled as she spoke. "What did you do?"

Eiffel was the loudest as he and Minkowski, and to a lesser, quieter extent, Lovelace, all shouted out, "Happy birthday, Hera!"

"My... But I don't have a birthday. Comes with being artificial, y'know?"

"Pshaw." Eiffel grinned. "You're just as much a member of the crew as any of us, and your program was booted up for the first time sometime, right? Since none of us know, and we haven't celebrated it yet, we've got at least some chance of it being today!"

"So you... You did this all for me?" The room was covered in stars, and flowers, and makeshift banners, and hastily scribbled (and possibly badly translated) binary code, all with some permutation of happy birthday and you're the best and other ridiculous sentiments written across them. It was completely absurd, but... "You guys!" Hera seemed to love it. So, it was worth it.

Minkowski elbowed Eiffel as Hera exclaimed about the decorations, and Lovelace was just barely able to make out a quiet, "This was a good plan," as she did. It seemed to spur Eiffel into motion, who jumped.

"Wait!" He turned to Hilbert, who'd been loitering at the edge of the room — there was a tray in his hands, with four oddly-shaped lumps on it. If Lovelace squinted, they almost looked like… "I almost forgot the piece de resistance!" Eiffel took the tray, proudly displaying the lumps. "Now, obviously we don't have any real ingredients, and if we did I doubt Dr. Caligari here would be the guy to turn to. But I got him to whip up some—"

"The closest approximation," Hilbert interrupted, shifting uncomfortably.

"Fine, the closest he could get, to cupcakes!" Eiffel eyed the things on the tray, frowning. "Wow, Doc, you really...didn't put in any effort into these at all, did you?"

"Is rather difficult to synthesize the taste and texture of doughy substances when you have neither flour nor baking soda." Hilbert frowned, muttering, "I did the best I could with what I have, in a very short time frame."

Eiffel eyed him for a moment. "Sure you did. Anyway, I figured that, since you don't have a mouth, Hera, you'd get to celebrate by watching us eat these and try not to die horribly! And I know what you're thinking," he said, reaching out to grab Hilbert's arm and keep him from floating away. "This guy's tried to kill all of us at least once; how do we know he didn't poison these? Fair question. If you'll notice, there are four; Hilbert is going to eat one first, to prove they're safe!"

There was silence for a moment. Then, "You know what? I'm okay with this." And if Lovelace didn't know any better, she could definitely believe that Hera was grinning as she said it.

Hilbert shot Eiffel a dark look before reaching for one of the lumps; before his fingers could close around it, however, Eiffel snatched it out of his grasp and instead tossed it to Minkowski. There was a distinct harrumph as Hilbert grabbed a different one, staring at it sullenly. Eiffel offered the tray to Lovelace, who took one for herself, and then he let it float away as he claimed the last.

"You don't make cake with baking soda, by the way." Eiffel was smug as he said it. "It's baking powder. Now eat up, Doc."

"I want the both of you to remember that this was Eiffel's idea," Hilbert groused, before taking a bite of his "cupcake". His jaw worked up and down for a minute, a conspicuously chewy noise heard throughout the room, before he swallowed it, visibly straining to do so. And then he glared. "Your turns."

The "cupcake" was grotesque: it had about the same consistency as taffy mixed with oat, with a distinctly seaweed taste; within minutes all four of them were gagging and shoving the creation as far away as possible. "Ugh, that is just— That's just offensive," Minkowski moaned.

"I know, right?" Eiffel agreed, scraping at his tongue. "I can't get it to go away!"

Lovelace couldn't stop the shudder sliding up and down her spine; the taste was just so pervasive, and so disgusting. "That," she gagged, "was an offense to life, the universe, and everything in it."

"I dunno, I thought it was pretty great!"

There was an aggrieved chorus of "Hera!" from the humans. Once they got their tastebuds under control, Hilbert gathered the remains of the "cupcakes" and the tray, muttering something about disposing of these abominations; not long after, Eiffel began singing "Happy Birthday", and even managed to get Minkowski to join in.

Lovelace grinned as she watched them, and was struck with a sudden flash of her own crew, celebrating for Dr. Hui. It made her homesick, a little bit. They were great people, and she knew she would always regret that she couldn't protect them. More and more, however, she was finding that a fondness (however begrudging) was starting to form for this new crew. Maybe in time they would welcome her into their fold; who knew, maybe in letting her in on Hera's birthday, they already were. Watching them now, though, they weren't so different from her old one, and it was a comfort she was beginning to want to protect.

#wolf 359 #renee minkowski #isabel lovelace #doug eiffel #hera #alexander hilbert #kieran writes

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valkirsif · 6 years

Text

Unthinkable CH10/???

Tom Hiddleston X Reader

Word: 3100

Warning: Nothing

She opened the gate and headed for the house, when had arrived was too excited by the trip to notice the beauty of the tree-lined avenue, Rice saw her, she raised hand in greeting and stepped up to reach him,

"Welcome home Poppy" Rice hugged her, "Simo has a million questions you are warned" laughed taking the backpack and starting with Y/N,

"I have no doubts about what you want to know," the woman replied laughing and picking up her friend, "I'll invent something, at least tomorrow the others arrive and will distract", walked silently along the avenue, the woman tried to look happy too if she felt strange

"Hey, beauty, okay?" Rice asked, looking at her sideways, "You look strange to me",

"Do not worry," she replied, turning around and looking at him, "It's that we did not sleep much the last 2 days, between the workouts, the massages and the talk, i'm just a little tired", they arrived home, Simo hugged her ,

"Finally you are here, how are you?" was super cheerful, "How come you went back before?"

"Rice's friend left with his colleague so did not travel alone tomorrow" the woman answered entering the house, "I need a real coffee, the hotel one was not bad but it was not coffee"

"If you want to take a shower, i'll take care of the coffee Poppy" Rice said turning on the machine, Y/N gave him a pat on the ass by taking the backpack

"Thanks Lucifer i did it before i went out, i changed and arrived then" went to the laundry to put the clothes in the washing machine, a blue shirt with the Captain America shield printed on it and several different sizes compared to her, "Hell i must have taken Chris's shirt as i picked up my stuff" said to herself, putting it together with the rest, turned on the washing machine and went into the room to get something more comfortable before going down from the others.

The trio sat down in the greenhouse to get coffee, Simo's eyes were bright with curiosity, he would not have stayed long enough to overwhelm her with questions, Y/N gave up, first she started talking and before that torture would be over,

"Hey Poppy but what are you on your neck are teeth marks?" Simo tried to be halfway between the amazed and the angry but the curiosity was transparent in every word, Y/N sighed before answering

"We got carried away in the shower" she laughed "Now i will not forget about him for a while", as if he could forget it, thought to herself,

"You did not tell me anything about him and Rice was useless" the puppy look that begs, Y/N knew that he would insist until it was exhausted,

"I told you no, he's a friend of Rice, tall, dark hair ..."

Simo interrupted her "Yes yes, you told me this but it's too vague not to make you pray"

"I know you and you can forget that you tell the details" the woman replied annoyed,

"You only care if you have the big cock and i do not think it concerns you" stood up to bring in the kitchen tray with cups, Simo was able to irritate her as nobody in the world would have preferred that there was not but was also part of the family so tried to endure, heard him expose his *theories* to Rice who tried to make him understand that he could not answer having never seen Tom naked she took a breath and returned to his friends

"Since you do not want to tell anything specific tell me at least how you are at the Hilton," Simo said

"It's the nicest place i've ever been, the suite on the first night had all the blue and gold brocade furniture, wonderful, and on the terrace there was a huge whirlpool, not to mention the bedroom, there was a beautiful canopied bed looked like Marie Antoinette's room a real dream" the woman had no problem talking about that, "But the best thing was without a doubt room service"

"Even in the suite" Simo's voice seemed envious

"Rice did not tell you anything? Yes I was in the suite, however if you happen to go there I recommend the savory pancakes, they are delicious," continued Y/N putting herself comfortable resting on Rice,"Even where we have been in the last days was not bad, i would have preferred not to have visits for enjoy the last days with him but i'm still happy to have met him, and to have also known his colleague, see them train was fantastic." concluded conscious of having irritated and intrigued Simo more than necessary, spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and watching TV, sometimes Simo asked a few questions trying to get new information but Y/N was cautious in answering, after all it was her secret and did not want to reveal anything that could even remotely unleash gossip.

"Guys, seeing the time you tell me to have dinner?" the woman asked, getting up from the sofa,

"Excellent idea Poppy, meanwhile we set up," Rice replied, standing up in turn, "Come on Simo do not do that face you know that Y/N does not like to talk about her achievements" laughed giving a slap on shoulder to his friend,

"I did not seem to have done any kind of strange questions, i have no one right now and i just wanted to know what your friend was like," Simo complained, "It seems strange to me that your friend i'have found her attractive but oh well the straight are strange," he said nonchalantly, in the kitchen in Y/N was boiling blood, "Breathe, breathe, it's only for a week .." kept repeating like a mantra, somewhere in the cell phone was ringing, "Rice, please, my hands are busy," the woman shouted as she put the dinner in the oven and washed hands, went back to the room. "Who is?" she asked as passed the phone,

"A certain sassy boy i thought it was the wrong number but it's in your column.." Rice said passing the call,

Y/N looked at him questioningly "Hello?!" tried to remember who could have given the number to the party, "Who speaks?",

"Hey Silly!!" Chris's cheerful voice made her smile,

"Sassy boy..really?" she asked, "You could ask me the number without fiddling with my phone.." scolded, laughing,

"I know but i love the surprise effect" he answered cheerfully

"What do i call this, we are seen less than 12 hours ago" asked Y/N, Rice and Simo were staring at it trying to understand who she was talking to,

"Silly did you steal my t-shirt? It 's what i use to sleep but i did not find it in the suitcases" she heard him talking to someone,

"Yes sorry it ended up in my backpack by mistake i did not know how to warn you, if you give me the address i send you fresh laundry " the woman replied

"It does not matter if you send it, bring it back the next time i see you", Y/N did not expect a similar answer, it was forbidden

"I do not think we'll see each other again soon, in case i'll leave Rice when i go back to home"

"But are you already back in Italy? You're not on vacation?" Chris said

"I've been here for 2 weeks, Rice took another week to be together then i go back to my home in Italy, the holidays are not eternal Sassy" she replied laughing, maybe having endless vacations as he had between a movie and the other,

"So keep it as a memento of the 2 days at the hotel" he simply said "I have to escape Silly we'll be back soon" and hung up, Y/N stayed with the phone still smiling, Chris was really a kid impertinent, turned and saw the friends staring at her waiting,

"It was Tom's colleague, he lost the shirt uses to sleep, i took it by mistake, he said to keep it as a memory, it's all crazy," she said holding the phone and going to the kitchen to check that the dinner did not burn, smiled to see the face of Simo, reached friends with the dishes and dined in joy, took the coffee in the garden cool and took a swim in the pool, the evening was beautiful and the sky full of stars, the trio fell asleep on the hammock lulled by the wind.

They woke up in pain at 9 a.m. past, tried to stretch and fell laughing on the grass,

"Hell we are no more the age to sleep piled up outdoors!" Rice said helping Y/N to pull up,

"Who do you say Lucifer are destroyed," the woman replied yawning

"Now that you're used to the comfortable beds in the suites i think you're struggling," Simo said provocatively, the woman ignored the friend's tone and headed home, she needed caffeine..they all needed it within a few hours the others would arrive and they were all three excited, they cooked breakfast together, they were so runnable for years of vacation that there was no need to talk, Rice put the ABBA on at full blast and began to make juice, Simo took out the eggs for the omelette and Y/N toasted the bread before buttering, they sat at the table, chatting, keeping an eye on the clock, after breakfast they moved to the rooms to get ready, the woman went in the shower to remove the night off and the grass, she thought back to Tom as the water ran through her, thought of the man's hands on her as he soaped, "Stop these thoughts, he's gone and you will not see him again just think about how he fucked you" she said turning the handle on cold water and calming the boils, Rice went into the bathroom while coming out of the shower, did not ask questions on the new signs on his neck just smiled,

"Hey if you do not want to suffer another third degree i recommend a scarf around neck.." said entering the shower ,

"I can cover it until i'm dressed but when we go to the pool the others will see them" Y/N replied wiping her hair, "And anyway Simo will make sure you notice them, so i decided i do not worry," she laughed and dressed,

"You're right, i'm only worried about the reaction that could have Gian" Rice noted, dressing, "Luckily he did not see you when you came back after the party, he would have been mad worse than me" he laughed,

"If Gian had been here i would not be disapper for two days, i would have exhausted in the morning and probably would have spanked me" Y/N imagined the scene of her * bodyguard * breaking through the door of the suitee takes her away, she and Rice looked at each other and burst out laughing, he too had the same thought, the woman loved all her friends but Gian was special, always worried about her, the sea was he who avoided that Y/N got into trouble because reacted badly when someone gave her a pat on the ass just because she loved short skirts, she had always been overprotective with her and loved this side of him, the voice of Simo from downstairs brought her back to reality,

"IS ARRIVED!!" was screaming like a girl, she and Rice ran down and there were only screams of joy, hugs, kisses and big smiles, Y/N felt the heart come out of her chest while clutching her strange family, even Phil had managed to take the holidays, had not seen for 3 years, since he went to do a stage in London and had not returned, burst into tears crying to the neck of the friend who looked at her and burst out laughing,

"You're always the usual Poppy cry for nothing" pres and around tightening more, Y/N began to laugh

"Phil i missed you so little London tramp", stood up and greeted the others, the group remained on the door to exchange kisses and hugs for 10 minutes before resuming the control of their emotions and follow Rice in the room, they were all fascinated by the house, Rice did the tour and accompanied the other rooms while Y/N prepared coffee for everyone,

Franc joined her "Hey gorgeous you're in good shape as always" whispered to her ear embracing her,

"You too beautiful as always" answered the woman turning around and putting the tray with the cups in his hand, "At the back of the room there is the window that leads into the garden, i reach you with breakfast" she moved to take the tray with toast and pancakes and followed him

"You're the usual slave" laughed his friend preceded her, they went to the garden where the others were already comfortable by the pool asking questions to Rice and making plans for the day, Gian went to meet her and took the tray

"Always ready to spoil you" gave her a playful tap on the sides "I missed you a bit 'that we do not see," he said following the table,

"I missed you too it's so nice to be all together again" Y/N answered sitting down with the others, finished eating all changed and got comfortable in the pool, the women were nervous, signs on the back were still visible, very visible, and the brand new on the neck seemed to scream "look at me" took a breath and took off the t-shirt, luckily they were all focused on Rice who was telling about his work and the people he had met in his new environment, imitations some stylists made everyone laugh, Jack risked choking while he drank, Gian put his head on the lap of Y/N looking for cuddles, the woman's hand went automatically on the man's head starting to pass the fingers and gently on the bald, it had always been her weak point and she knew it, stroking his head was the best way to calm and cuddle,

"I do not want to madden princess but can you tell me what happened to your neck and back?" asked in a calm voice Gian,

"Rice introduced me a friend of his was to give them to me and before you pissed me he did not do anything i did not want to " Y/N answered just as calm, she expected those questions, especially from him and he had no trouble confessing her secrets, they had never had any, they had always said everything, Gian stared at her and smiled,

"Tell me about him, it's hard to let you go with someone he must have hit you," he continued. man enjoying the fingers of Y/N that caressed him,

"There is not much to say, when i arrived 2 weeks ago Rice arrived with this friend, we were comfortable right away, a great talker and definitely one of the most beautiful man i've ever see, impossible not to be fascinated" laughed between if remembering when he had seen and recognized, "The first 10 days nothing happened, a lot of talk, he read the Henry V with a perfect English accent that bewitched me, then the evening of the charity event something changed, i was doing a little 'stupid with a colleague of Rice when his friend asked me to go away with him, i said yes at the moment" felt her face flushing as she said, "He took me to a wonderful park with a breathtaking view across the city and we kissed, from there it was a whirlwind of wild sex for the following days, i never found myself so well with anyone .." the words they went out in their throats, realized that missed Tom terribly,

"Hell did he really bewitched you, did you exchange the number to keep in touch?" the man asked, "So it was not like that to have fun, it's not from me is of a different category than i could have been anything more " she answered sincerely, Gian did not ask any more questions, he stood up and took her on his shoulder to throw into the water, Y/N hated being thrown that way and tried to take revenge despite Gian was much bigger than her, the clash ended in splashes of water, laughter and a long war of spray that ended after a couple of hours with the exhausted and happy family that breathed again.

The group returned home for prepare dinner, for once it was not Y/N to prepare for all but they joined and cooked together leaving the kitchen untidy, dinners piled on the sofa were deciding what to watch when Franc and Jack got up and asked to speak, the group looked at them curiously,

"Now that we are all together we would have an announcement to make" began Franc looking at his boyfriend, Jack smiled and invited him to continue, "Well to make it short soon will each of you participate.." he stopped visibly moved, the group began to understand what was happening, murmurs of joy escaped everyone, "..we decided to get married!" concluded Jack radiant, joy broke out together, there were tears and slaps on the shoulders , the first family wedding, "We did not want to give the news via message something so it is spoken aloud" the couple was suffocated with questions and hugs, Y/N was too happy even to cry of joy, they spent the rest of the evening talk about the preparations and where the ceremony would take place, when they heard that they had chosen Skopelos they looked at each other and burst out laughing, only they could choose Mamma Mia's location to get married.

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