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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Rock ‘N’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 3- Crying At The Disco

Intro: You keep vigil at Paul’s bedside, but there’s nothing to do but wait and hope he makes his way back to you.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Not being a medical expert, I’ve tried to make this as accurate as possible (thank you google and various other people whose brains I picked) but if there are any inaccuracies please take them as creative license! As always, I’ve tried to make this reader as inclusive as always. Images etc in the moodboard are merely used for aesthetic purposes.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 2

It was like he was in a blacked out fog. Nothing felt the same, nothing could move, he couldn't open his eyes, nor could he speak. It was silent, bar the faint sound of the sweetest voice, but it was so very far away, almost like it weren't real.

"Hey, Stud."

The sound, soft and familiar, a blessing to his ears, brought his mind to a memory, now a dream, he relived.

The alarm was buzzing annoyingly and he felt the warm body that had been pressed up against his all night rustle and slam a heavy something over the badgering clock. Then he felt two soft lips ghost over his jaw, where the joint came together, before softly kissing near his chin, up to his cheek and over his lips.

"Day shift awaits, Officer Disco."

A sleepy smile pulled at his lips as he felt the weight of the bed shift and he peeked an eye open long enough to see her arms slip into his shirt, the material covering her naked frame. He watched her sway out of the room and soon heard sounds from down the stairs. He stretched in bed, his body happily sore from the night spent with his girl. It had been one incredibly glorious night. First the anticipation of the whole upcoming week had him giddy and happy during his shift and when he'd arrived to pick up Y/N, he knew he was a gonner. From their little flirty game before dinner to the sweet glances and soft touches at the restaurant over their rich meal to the lightning speed return trip home to truly loving on her for the first time, Paul Diskant was in heaven. And, dare he say it, in love, hypothetically.

He chuckled at himself for the way he was feeling but he wouldn't trade it for anything, bar a repeat of the night before and for nights to come. As he kicked his legs over the side of the bed to go freshen up, he plucked his glasses from his overnight bag that he'd collected from the bottom of the stairs sometime in the middle of the night and headed for the en suite. A smirk playing at his lips as he remembered the tilted and scratched lamp in the hall from the night before. He didn't hold back the grin that had splayed over his face when he'd passed it gathering his bag. He'd fix it later.

The black frames formed a stark outline over his baby blues and he slipped them off briefly to rinse his face. He brushed his teeth and headed back for bed, checking his phone for texts or missed calls. As he sat back against the headboard, the sheet up to his naked waist, he took in the room around him for the first time, it was simply decorated, grey walls with dark furniture; the bed frame, the dresser with the television on top and two night stands. Various pictures set about depicting pieces and moments of Y/N's life. Of course this wasn't the first time he'd been in here, but it was the first morning after and he saw things in a new light. He tilted the corner of his mouth upward as he looked at the bedside table where she'd slept, finding a set of photobooth pictures, five to the strip, taken the night of their first date. His reverie was interrupted when the woman on his mind walked into the bedroom, still wearing only his shirt, her hair messed about from sex and sleep, in her hand two cups of coffee and slid under her arm what looked to be the morning newspaper.

"I remembered you'd said that you'd read the paper... Wow," she stopped mid-sentence.

"Wow what?" He asked, cocking his head a bit to the side.

"I've just never seen you in your glasses, yet," she smirked.

"Okay... so is it a good wow or a 'get the fuck outta my bed' wow?" He waited on baited breath, already knowing the answer.

"Oh it's good." She replied and sauntered over to him, setting their mugs and the paper down on the nightstand. "Like...very good," she seductively added as she straddled his hips, holding herself over him on her knees.

She was gorgeous, eyes that always smiled around him, her pouty lips swollen from his kisses, her hair tousled and wild, a reminder of their night.

"You know what else is 'wow'," he asked softly, his lips so close to hers, as her brow quirked up, "you in my shirt, looking like you do now," he stretched his body upward, close to her lips.

"Oh, yeah?" She whispered, as he could feel her breath on his skin, the faint smell of minty toothpaste there, where she must have brushed her teeth downstairs.

"Oh yeah," he sealed their lips in a sultry kiss.

He used his brute strength to toss Y/N on her back, his naked hips between her legs, his hands on her back against the bed. His lips lazily kissed at her neck. She reached up and plucked the glasses from his face.

"Let's see how blind you really are," she grinned.

“Well, you know, when one of your senses is impaired they say the others become more enhanced to compensate. I happen to have a very good sense of touch and taste.”

"Prove it."

"Oh, are you challenging me, Miss Y/L/N?"

"Yes," she deadpanned.

His lips started again at her neck whilst a hand pulled from around her back and deftly began unbuttoning the few buttons done up on his shirt, exposing her tummy and breasts, the material falling away.

Her skin turned to goose flesh as his fingers gently splayed over her tummy and then down her hip to her thigh, his fingertips ghosting her skin, tickling her so.

She squirmed at his touch before she gave a soft snort of a giggle as his fingers trailed down the outside of her thigh and he paused, pulling his head up from where he’d been peppering soft kisses against her neck and he looked at her.

“Am I amusing you?”

“You know I’m ticklish there!” She grinned and Diskant gave a huff of a laugh, his mouth dropping back to her neck.

“I do but that’s not quite what I’m going for...”

“Well maybe my senses are heightened too, Disco.” She teased, her eye lashes fluttering against her cheeks as his affection moved to her collar bone.

Her giggles soon turned to soft, gentle sighs as his lips and mouth trailed a path down her sternum, strong hands sliding up her sides and coming to rest on her rib cage, thumbs brushing the underneath of her breasts. Her fingers scratched at the short buzzed cut hair behind his ears before scratching down to the nape of his neck. At the soft bite of her nails against his skin he gave a low groan of satisfaction, before he shifted slightly, his mouth finding hers again as his hands cupped her breasts, thumbs skating over the nipples.

She preened at his touch, his calloused thumb rubbing over that hardened spot and she arched her back, pushing up into his hands, a silent question for more. He obliged, gently tweaking her nipples between his thumb and finger, swallowing the filthy noises of delight she was making.

His attention to her flesh grew as he moved his affections to her other nipple in the same way, then slowly dragging his mouth, hot and open across her sternum and down her tummy, his tongue dipping into her naval. Two strong, yet gentle hands reached down to the back of her knees, parting her legs wider as he slid down the bed, his body sliding against hers as he moved downwards.

His lips pressed against her skin, just before her small patch of curls began. A nip to the inside of her thigh and then the other. A flat, long tongue slid across her wet folds.

"Jesus, fuck," Y/N cried out.

“No, just me.”

"You smug li..." she couldn't finish her sentence as he dove in for all of her, causing her to quite literally cry out at sweet combination of a gasp and an 'oh'.

With each lap and lick of his tongue against her, she tasted sweeter and sweeter. He loved the sounds she made, the way her body was so quick to respond to his every touch. Just like the night before, his pride and ego grew, his chest swelling with it all. And as his tongue dipped deep inside her, he felt her walls begin to flutter against him.

Her hands found the back of his head, fingers running along his scalp again, reaching for that spot that would make him growl. He felt her scratch at him and as he hummed in delight against her, she came with a force, trying with all she could to get him deeper.

He relished in the way she cried out, the way his name sounded across her lips as she exploded within. As she rode that high, he continued to lick and suck at her, the right amount of pressure against her clit to make her shake. His strokes were slow and delicate, lazy, but none the less still highly pleasurable.

Her palm pressed against his forehead as she pushed him away, clearly having become too sensitive and he moved, placing a kiss to her tummy as he crawled back over her, taking a moment to look at her face as she lay boneless beneath him, her features soft with bliss.

His lips brushed hers again and her hand curled round his neck, pulling her in for a deeper kiss and the fact he knew she’d be able to taste herself turned him on even more. He was rock hard, and as he pressed against her, she smirked against his mouth.

“Something got you worked up, Officer?”

“Somethings gonna work up you in a minute.” He quipped back and she gave a snort, shaking her head.

With a strong arm he propped himself up and twisted towards the nightstand, grasping for the foil packet he’d tossed on there earlier after retrieving his glasses.

“Nice to see you were so confident how this morning was gonna go.” Y/N looked at him as he sat back on his heels, tearing at the packet with his teeth.

“Don’t kid yourself, babe. We both know this was nailed on.”

"I'm inclined to agree, Stud," Y/N reached out towards him as she sat up, gently touching his tip, collecting the precum on her finger and dipping it into her mouth, before she took him in her hand again.

"Fucking hell, baby," his voice was a growl as her hand began to pump up and down his dick and she leaned forward slightly, grabbing the half open foil packet from him.

“Fucking heaven more like.” She grinned before she tore open the packet and rolled the condom down his shaft, drawing a groan from his throat before she lay back down, her legs bent at the knee.

“Come at me, Disco.” She teased and she didn’t need to ask twice.

As much as he was tempted to fuck her into the mattress he kept his movements slow and deep, rocking as opposed to thrusting. One hand curled around her knee, hooking her leg round his waist, the other held onto her hip as he leaned down, slanting his mouth over hers once again. Her hands slid round his back, fingers tracing the muscles of his shoulders as they flexed with each rut he made, his skin tingling to the touch.

She felt so good, so damn good wrapped around him. He desperately fought the urge to just let go, instead building up toward that crash they both chased.

He pushed upwards, grinding his hips against her and she groaned into his mouth, nails digging into his back as his name slipped from her lips in a breathy pant.

"I'm so close, Y/N. I just need to...lo...more."

He felt her flutter around him, his name now flowing freely in a staccato chant, and her back arched, a loud cry bubbled from her throat as she trembled around him, her hands grabbing at his back as she clung to him, riding out her bliss.

His body caged her in, his forearms pressed into the mattress at her shoulders, his lips kissing whatever skin he could on her neck and face as his hips rolled and rolled into her, feeling the way she held him deep inside her and as her body shook, his own insides started to coil, knocking at the door of his own bliss.

"Oh, baby," he moaned in a guttural tone, his orgasm hitting him hard. He nuzzled at her neck as his hips steadied out, giving her soft kisses along the column of her neck and across her jaw.

“Hypothetically, I love you.” He muttered against her skin and she laughed, nudging at his forehead with her nose, causing him to look at her and she smiled.

“Hypothetically, I love you too.”

You sat there holding his hand, just talking to him, reminding him you were there for him and that you loved him. But little were you aware of the readout happening in the corner of the room, where brain activity had spiked, causing an array of markers on the printout for the doctors to read.

****

Four days, four days of endless commotion in and out of his room, from hospital staff to a changing of the guard between you and his parents, to Jimmy, Sam, and Steve, all taking turns in the room, waiting in the ICU lobby. By the fifth day, your parents had come down, Dotty calling them to come quickly as they'd been away and you had barely eaten let alone left his side. There was nothing you could do but sit there as he was in a deep sleep, medically sedated, so he could heal.

"Y/N, you need to let your father and I get you home for a bit. You're not doing yourself any good sitting here when you could be refreshed for when they do start waking him up."

You sighed at your mother; Maria, your father; Nick, in turn sighing at you. Dotty was upstairs with Paul and Big Jim was sitting around waiting to go up for a bit. You didn't want to leave.

"Angel," your father spoke softly, your nickname causing a rush of emotion to wash over you as you turned to face him. "The doctors said they won't be waking up for at least another day or two, not until they’re certain he’s strong enough. Please, let me take you home so you can get a proper shower and a good, hot meal."

Big Jim stood now near your father, his eyes staring back at you, "Please, Y/N, if not for yourself, for him. You'll want to be here when he wakes up and you can't be run down for that. Your dad's right, Paul's not coming to any time soon, and it'll be at least a day or two after they turn him around before the sedatives wear off." He looked at your parents and then back to you, "besides, if I don't look after his girl, he's gonna be pissed at me and none of us want that. So, please... Go."

You weighed it out. Damn it, you knew they were right but you wanted... no, needed to stay. What if something happened and you weren't there what if....

"Come on, Y/N," Big Jim placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, pulling you in for a hug.

Tearfully you sighed, "Please don't leave him alone."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Big Jim gave you a soft wink as you looked up at him. You nodded as you pulled away, and your father walked you out to their car and took you home.

The ride was silent, the air heavy, your father knowing you needed the peace. The ride home took forever but nowhere near as long as the ride Weiss gave you the other night. With shaky hands, you unlocked the front door to your single bedroom apartment and your father instructed you to shower while he looked for something to make you.

You moved silently down the hall your fingers ghosting along the pictures against the wall. Ones from each of your personal lives and others of your life together. You stepped into your room and realized it was the way you'd left it. Haphazard piles of clothes on the floor and in the bins, the sheets still a mess from when you'd made love that night.

Numbly, you sat on the edge of the bed on Paul's side and you laid against his pillow, inhaling the deepest breath you've probably ever taken. His scent was all around you, inside you, infiltrating every sense and nerve in your body and you finally let go of the saddest, most heart-breaking scream you could manage.

You didn't even register your dad entering the room but you felt the weight of the bed shift as he sat at the edge, near your curled up legs. You sat up and fell into his embrace, allowing him to cradle you like the little girl you used to be, rocking you back and forth, stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest. Your sobs soaked his shirt while he tried to whisper soft comforts to you, no doubt his own chin wobbling as he felt his little girl's heart break, her pain.

Eventually your sobs evened out and your dad pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “I haven’t comforted you like this since your first boyfriend broke your heart.” There was a pause as you sniffed and pulled back to look at your dad. “God, he was an asshole.”

You gave a watery splutter as you tucked your head back under your dad's chin, his hand rubbing your back. “Paul isn’t.” You whispered and your dad shook his head.

“No... no, he’s not. He’s a good kid, treats you right. I’d never have agreed to let him ask you to marry him otherwise.”

"I'm so scared, Daddy," you cried.

“Hey, Y/N," your father pulled away from you, "if there’s one thing I do know about Paul, he’s probably the only person on the planet that can rival you and your mother for stubbornness. He's not going anywhere, honey, he’s a fighter.”

You nod and give off a big yawn, exhaustion closing in on you.

"Sleep, Angel," he said softly. "I'll be right on the couch. Then after some rest you're going to take a hot shower and I'm going to get you a hot meal. So help me, or your mother is coming to do it and I don't think we want that."

“I dunno.” You sniff. “Mom's mac and cheese sounds pretty dammed good right now.”

"But it doesn't beat my grilled cheese."

“Nothing beats your grilled cheese, Pops.”

****

A hot shower and a real meal, outside what the vending machine near the elevator could provide, was what you needed. However, you didn't stay away long. You were there, bright and early the next morning, on the sixth day, highly anxious to get back to Paul. When you arrived, your own car taking you there this time, you noticed a familiar face talking to Steve and Sam.

Your blood boiled and bile threatened to escape your throat as you took note of Detective Tom Ludlow of Vice Special talking candidly with your captain and Paul's. In quick, long strides, you closed in on the trip and caught Ludlow with a nasty right hook. "Officer down with no suspects to pursue and you fucking book it. Look at where we are. Have you seen him? He is fighting for his life, and that's on you!"

Steve quickly pulled you back after the punch to Ludlow's jaw, "Hey, calm down."

"I am fucking calm!"

Rogers growled as he held you back, "take a breath or talk a walk, Y/N."

But you were too angry to pay him any attention. Instead you ignored him, your glare remaining fixated on Ludlow. “How about I shoot you, and leave you for dead; find out how much your family like it, huh?”

"Y/N," he began, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're sorry? He trusted you! You were supposed to have his back!"

“Excuse me.” A stern voice cut over your rant and you blinked and turned away from the doctor who had just walked into the small family waiting area. “I appreciate that feelings and emotions are running high but if you keep this up, I'll have to call security. You’re not the only people with family here.”

"If he dies, you're next." You ran your hand down your face and turned to Steve, your voice painfully measured, “get rid of him, before I do.”

Sam escorted you to the elevator, and you went on up. And you didn't miss the hushed words of your captain to Ludlow as the elevator doors started to close.

"I've never seen her like this, unnerving how broken she is. She's ace and one of my best," Steve sighed. "If he doesn't..."

"The kid has heart," you heard Ludlow reply before the doors closed completely.

You huffed out a stressed breath, your right hand in a bit of a throb as you shook out the pain. But it was nothing compared to what your heart felt. Realistically, you knew the risks of both your job and Paul's, they were one in the same. And things like shootings and even albeit deaths occur with officers all the time, a sad consequence to wearing the badge. And, things could be even more scary if and when undercover, such as Paul had been. And while you didn't want to know details, you knew players, you knew this case, figuring out who exactly murdered Vice Special Washington had been in Paul's lap for a good week or two. But, right now you couldn't see through the red hot anger burning inside you at Ludlow for pulling Paul in so deep so fast. You couldn't see past the pain and anguish, the fear that was controlling you as he still lay motionless in bed.

****

Time seemed to creep by. There was no real sense of anything for you to set your watch by so to speak, day and night didn’t exist anymore, yet you knew exactly how long he’d been unconscious down to the last second.

As he was in the ICU, visitors were strictly monitored and limited to close family only, but your friends were never far away and whilst they may not be allowed in to see him, there was a steady string of colleagues and people you knew arriving to show you their support.

By the eighth day you had fallen into a routine. You and his parents took it in shifts to sit with him ensuring that the three of you all got time to head home for a shower, food and an attempted few hours of rest. You were loathe to leave his side, but whilst he was out of it there really was nothing you could do.

As you sat in the room by his bed, idly flicking through your text messages on your phone, stealing glances at him every so often just in case something had changed, there was a knock on the door to the room and you turned to see Dotty poking her head through the frame.

“Hi, Sweetheart.” She gave you a tired smile as she stepped into the room and you sighed knowing that it was your time to leave.

“Hi,” you stood up, and stretched out your limbs. “He’s been the same so...”

You trailed off, what else was there to say?

Leaning over you placed a gentle kiss to his temple and ran your hand over his short hair. “I’ll be back soon,” you promised, blinking back more tears as you straightened up.

You made to the door where Dotty gave you a hug before she stepped inside and you paused, watching as she dropped a kiss to his forehead.

"Hi, honey,” She sniffed, her hand stroking his hair. “Oh, my baby boy....you have to wake up. I already lost one son, I can't lose you too.”

**** “My baby boy…”

He knew that voice. His mom. His comfort blanket, the woman who’d patched up his various bumps and scrapes

“I can’t lose you too.”

But as his mom’s face swam in the fog of his brain, he saw another, not unlike his, but older….

James. James Junior.

He'd had a spectacular day at school, practice had gone well and now he was walking home with his best friends, listening to the razzing they were giving him about Ashley Calvin, the cheerleader sweet on him who couldn't stop making eyes at Paul during practice.

As the group of boys rounded the corner, a black and white was parked in front of his house. He hadn't thought much of it, his father having taken time sometimes on patrol to swoop in on his wife for a bit, but then it slightly registered that it was his dad's day off and this particular squad car wasn't familiar.

A frown pressed his brow and Paul broke off from his friends, "hey, uh, I'll see you guys later."

The group waved him off and as Paul entered the front door, he knew something wasn't right as he heard his mother's heartbroken cries and his father's loud sobs coming from the kitchen. He practically dropped his backpack where he stood and pounded into the kitchen, seeing what he'd heard, his parents in grief.

"Mom... Dad..." he croaked, fearing the worst.

The officer in the room, Paul didn't recognize, but he welcomed him in and asked him to take a seat.

"What's going on?" Paul asked.

"It's Junior," his dad sniffed, a typically straight faced stoic man. "He's gone, son."

"No, I... I don't understand," Paul shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm afraid so, we received a call earlier this morning of a young man unresponsive at a well-known address. When we arrived, that's when I was able to ID him," the officer explained. Then he sighed and turned his attention to the family themselves, "I’m sorry to ask, Jim but, you know the script. I need to know if any of you saw him at all recently, if there’s anything you know that can help us piece together what happened.”

Jim and Dotty both shook their heads.

“I’ve not seen him for months, we errr, I kicked him out a few months back..” Jim stammered, shaking his head. “I didn’t want that stuff in the house. I mean he’d been arrested, had no option-“ His guilty stammers continued and Paul swallowed as he looked down at the table.

“I saw him yesterday afternoon.” He all but whispered, blinking back the tears from his eyes.

Both of his parents looked at him as he stared at the table. He’d hidden it from them, their standing weekly meet ups. "I used to see him every Wednesday, we’d get a hotdog on the pier and catch up."

He heard his mom give a little cry as his dad groaned, his voice full of sorrow as he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell us, son?”

"Because I thought you’d be angry. Suppose it doesn’t really matter now.” Paul held back the emotions he had bubbling inside as he raised his head to look at his father who took a shaky breath as he wiped a hand over his face.

"No," Dotty whispered. "It doesn't."

Big Jim stood and embraced his youngest and now only son. And as his arms wrapped around him, Paul allowed his emotions to escape, a loud cry and screwed up eyes giving way.

Paul knew Junior had his fair share of problems. He'd idolized his brother all his life, their five year difference never an issue. But just as Paul was about to enter high school, and Junior was getting ready to leave, he'd fallen into the wrong crowd, continuously causing tension between himself and his parents. Paul could only watch from the side-lines as his parents tried and tried to right Junior's wrongs. After an arrest, and no bail out from his father, Junior was in something far deeper than hot water. But when Big Jim found the drugs in Junior's room, it was the last straw.

The notifying officer's voice broke through his thoughts and Paul focused on the conversation.

"Unfortunately, you're going to have to come down and make a positive ID."

Big Jim nodded, "I'll do it."

"No, Jim," Dotty reached for his hand. "I want to see him."

"So do I." Paul added.

"Paul, I don't think..." Jim started to object but his wife of twenty five years interjected.

"Let him," she said. "We'll all go."

The drive to the coroner was silent, the longest drive of Paul's life. The morgue wasn't far per say but the drive took forever. At least it felt like it did. Big Jim checked them in and they waited nearly ten minutes before the coroner collected them and took them to a cold, sterile room.

They gathered around a sheet covered body and waited. The coroner pulled the sheet back to reveal a face and Dotty quickly turned her head into Big Jim's chest. With a wobbling lip, a sob being held back, Big Jim looked at the coroner and nodded, confirming it was Junior.

Paul stood there, staring at his older brother's lifeless form. The first dead body he'd ever seen and it was his own brother's. He swallowed back the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He thought of all the fun he'd had with him, the times he'd come to him about crushes on girls and he thought about their standing Wednesdays at the pier.

As his parents finished paperwork with the coroner, he waited in the lobby and thought some more. At nearly sixteen, Paul Diskant had, in that moment of devastation and despair, decided his future. He would follow in his father's footsteps and carry the badge. He would work hard to prevent families like his own in experiencing this very tragedy. If he could help just one family, then it would all be worth it.

****

The floor of the ICU was quickly bustling, stirring you uncomfortably from your seat next to Big Jim, who'd dozed off for the last twenty minutes or so. The flurry of activity had you keening your head around the corner for a moment and you realized the flurry was coming to and from Paul's room.

"Oh my God," your heart jumped to your throat and your words startled Jim awake. The two of you quickly ran to Paul's room just as Dotty was being ushered out.

"Dot?" Big Jim said worried.

"I... I don't know, I was just there, talking to him, holding his hand and the nurse called for the doctor.”

"Is something wrong?" You asked a nurse coming out of the room, the doctor behind her.

"Not at all, in fact," the doctor began, "his heart rate has increased and his EEG is showing signs of a significant increase of brainwave activity."

Your hand flew to your mouth in shock and hope, your heart racing. "What..."

"That means that you keep talking to him, you keep telling him you're there. His brain is functioning, he's showing signs of emotions and clearly responding to stimuli."

You let out a small noise that was halfway between a sob and a gasp as behind you Dotty began to sob, and you felt Jim’s hand on your shoulder.

"We'll start gradually weaning off the sedation tonight, after we run some more tests and watch his results. But this is all very, very good news." The doctor smiled.

It was the best news you could have ever heard. There was hope, he was going to make it.

When the dust had settled and the nurses and staff cleared the room, you went back in, giving Dotty a break to sit with Big Jim in the ICU lobby. You pulled up your trusty chair and took a seat, facing Paul. You sat forward and took his hand in yours, your other hand cradling a book in your lap. Your lips pressed into the top of his hand and you smiled.

"Come back to me," you willed. "Nap time is over, it's time to wake up."

****

It had been one of the best weeks of his life. He and Y/N tested their new relationship with a week of playing house and man did they play house! From their first night to their last, they were wrapped up in one another's arms, having at least one meal together or morning coffee before shifts. Despite the newness of it all, he was deep in love. And therefore ruined. But tonight that all would end, he'd have to go back to his parents and she'd be in her bed, alone, until... He could even think about it. Y/N was due home any minute, having picked up her parents at the airport when her shift ended. He was busy making sure he wasn't burning dinner, the chicken cordon bleu baking away in the oven whilst, mashed potatoes and sautéed green beans were hitting the stove top. In the last week he had fast established that whilst Y/N might be good at a lot of things, cooking was not one of them. She was a disaster in the kitchen unless she was baking, and as such, given it was something he was good at, he’d taken over the meal making. The tell-tale sound of a car pulling into the long drive alerted his ears and he smirked to himself. He tossed the tea towel he had been holding onto the side counter and made his way out of the door, heading to the car where Y/N and her parents, Nick and Maria were climbing out. "Hey, guys, welcome home," he smiled, hugging Maria, shaking Nick's hand and grabbing a couple of the bags to help. He pressed a sweet kiss to Y/N cheek. “Good day?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, couple of minor call outs but nothing heavy for once.”

He smiled before he turned to her parents. “How was New York?” He'd caught Y/N's eye as he listened to Maria talk about their trip. She cocked her head towards her shoulder and mouthed 'kiss ass' at him. He tried his best to stop the grin spreading across his face at the fact she had hit the nail on the head. He was turning on the charm, big time. It was important to him her parents liked him as much as his liked her. "Where do you want these?" He'd gestured to the bags in his hands.

"Just leave them at the foot of the stairs," Nick replied. "I'll take them up later."

"Sure, no problem." “Something smells good!” Maria gave an appreciative sniff as the four of them made their way into the kitchen. Nick snorted. “Makes a change from when Y/N cooks.” "Hey!" She snorted playfully.

"She's not wrong, Y/N/N," Nick laughed. "I could use a beer. Paul?"

"Sure, yeah, thank you. Let me just peek in on dinner." “How nice to have a man that can cook.” Maria sighed dramatically and Nick groaned.

“Cheers Paul, way to show me up.” "I'm going to go up and change, I'll be right back." Maria smiled at the people around her.

"I'll grab a few beers from the garage," Nick offered. "Y/N, beer or wine?"

"Uh...surprise me."

"You are your mother's daughter." When both of her parents were out of hearing range, Y/N turned to Paul with wide eyes. "Did you manage to fix the lamp bulb and hide the scratch?" “Lightbulb, yes. Scratch no. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“And the rail for the shower curtain?”

“Back up.”

“Photo frame in the lounge?”

“Couldn't find the exact one. Had to buy another, but don’t worry I’ll take the flack. It was technically me that kicked it over after all.” "The ice cream stain on the couch?"

“I did as much as I could.” He scratched his neck. “And rearranged the scatter cushions.” "You're a life saver, I can't imagine what they'd think if they knew we fuc..." She couldn't finish her sentence as Maria had come back into the kitchen.

"Y/N, what happened to the lamp on the landing?" “Oh I errr, knocked it with the laundry basket. We changed the bulb but I couldn’t do anything about the scratch. I’m sorry, I’ll replace it.” “Yeah and erm before you spot the frame in the living room, that was my fault.” Paul spoke up. “I knocked it accidentally when I was running the vacuum round before. I replaced the frame and kept the old one just in case you wanted to see if it was repairable.” Maria shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t valuable. The photo is the most important thing.”

“Yeah it’s a good shot.” Paul grinned before he turned to Y/N. “You sure suited those little dungarees and pigtails, babe.” “Fuck off.” She shot back and Paul laughed as Nick walked back into the kitchen.

“Language, young lady.” He admonished, placing two beers down on the island counter along with two sparkling wines. "What broke?"

"Apparently, a frame in the living room, no big deal, we appreciate the effort to keep the place clean." Maria smiled.

"Ah, good, good.” Nick nodded, handing Paul his beer which he took with a thanks. “Did you notice the dent in the dryer, Y/N?"

The second he asked, both Paul and Y/N spit their drinks forward, making a mess of themselves and the island. "Was it something I said?" Nick asked as he eyed his daughter and her boyfriend. “No, just...” Y/N shook her head, “I just, well, you know you go away and come back and there’s stuff broken, I honestly don’t know what happened to the dryer.” She finished lamely. “Oh I wouldn’t worry about it.” Maria shook her head. “You probably dropped something on it a little too forcefully.” Paul stifled a groan and as if it were a blessing, the oven timer dinged. "Right, so if you guys want to head into the dining room, I'll dish this up in a second." "I'll help," Y/N offered.

Nick and Maria headed out with their drinks in hand and took up their seats in the dining room. Paul careened his neck around the corner of the wall and looked back at Y/N. "You’re gonna get me murdered, baby." "I'm sorry, they put me on the spot," she whispered. "How'd you forget the dryer?!" “What the fuck do you expect me to do with a dent?” He scoffed. “Buy a new dryer?” "No, of course..."

"And in my defense, it was YOU who accosted me in the garage this morning, so that one, that's on you, sweetheart." “Whatever, Disco, just dish up the food.” Dinner carried on with simple chatter, Y/N's parents chattering away about their trip in detail. Mid way through, Maria made a simple remark, "You two sure did a lot of cleaning while we were gone." “Well, I wanted to keep the place tidy.” Y/N shrugged. “No more than I usually do when you’re away.”

“Like my mom always says, tidy house, tidy mind.” Paul grinned and Y/N turned to look at him.

“Shut up.” She mouthed and he smirked as he reached for his beer, Nick mimicking him.

“Well...” the corner of Nick’s mouth curled upwards slightly as he took a pull before setting the bottle down, his eyebrow arched as he glanced at Y/N then to Paul, “if this is the type of thing we get to eat when we come home, maybe we should go away and let you come over and ‘clean up’ more often?"

They'd been outed. Their cover simply not good enough. Some cops they were.

Paul's sip of his drink was caught between that ridiculous little flap in his throat that tells your brain to swallow verses breath and instead of swallowing, he inhaled and began choking, a fit of coughs exiting him.

***** Your head shot up from the book you had been reading as loud beeps starting ringing our around the room. To your utter horror, you saw Paul convulsing on the bed and you slapped your hand on the red call button before running out into the corridors and yelling for help. Almost immediately a nurse came sprinting round the corner and hurried into your room, as you hovered by the back, your arms wrapping around your chest as Dotty and Jim appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” Jim spoke as you struggled for words as a doctor pushed past you into the room. There was a second silence as the doctor moved over to the bed and the nurse stepped back, and strode towards you. But she was smiling. “its fine, he’s started to breath for himself that’s all.” She explained, “so the tube in his throat is irritating him. Don’t worry, it’s a natural reaction and to be expected as he comes round from the sedation.” “You mean he’s waking up?” You stuttered as Dotty reached up to grab your hand. “Looks that way.” The nurse smiled. “And it’s not even been a full twenty four hours since we started to withdraw the sedation.” You let out a sob as the nurse gently ushered you out of the room so they could sort Paul out and after a few more minutes of agonising waiting the doctor came out and headed towards you. “He’s responding very well. I’m extremely pleased with his progress. He’s breathing for himself, his vitals are strong so I’m happy to completely withdraw the sedation provided we carefully monitor him.” "How long before he actually wakes?" Dotty asked. “That I can’t say.” The doctor smiled. “That’s up to him and how quickly his body and system reboots so to speak. It could be hours, a day or so but I wouldn’t expect more than another twenty for hours given his current state.” It was news you'd waited to hear for a week. And suddenly, you found yourself anxious, thinking of the road ahead. But he was alive and for that you were thankful.

"Thank you," Big Jim smiled and shook the doctor's hand.

Dotty turned to you with a smile, "Jim and I are going to head home and take care of some things. Do you want me to bring you something to eat?" The last thing you were thinking of was your stomach, but knowing Dotty as you did, you fully understood this was her way of helping so to speak, making sure you were looked after. Because she also knew you well enough to know that now there was a chance he could come round in a matter of hours, there was no way you were going to leave the ward.

“Sure that sounds great.” You smiled. "We'll see you soon. You call if anything happens, we'll rush right back." Big Jim winked at you.

"Okay. I'm going to call my parents. Let Barnes know." After hugging his parents goodbye, you stepped off the ward and made your calls, your chest feeling lighter than it had in days. Once you’d explained and listened to everyone else sighing, or in your mom’s case crying, with relief you made your way back into his room and allowed yourself a little smile as now you could see his face fully, no longer obscured by the breathing apparatus. You leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your hand running over his hair.

“See you soon, baby.” You whispered, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Real soon.”

*****

His mouth felt dry, his body weak, he felt sore and tired. He could hear the sound of her voice, but his ears couldn't process the clarity of it all. His heavy eyelids slowly became slits and he blinked, opening them up a little more with each blink. Then, his eyes, blue and clear as ever saw her.

She looked tired and weary, her eyes puffy and the tip of her nose swollen and iritated from crying. But despite all that, she was still absolutely the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. His weak fingers flinched in her hand and her eyes shot to his and he squeezed again.

The relief at seeing those beautiful blue eyes once more looking at you crashed over you like a wave. You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice choked in your throat and instead you simply squeezed your fingers around his as a fresh stream of tears spilled from your eyes.

You quickly pressed the call button on Paul's bed, to alert the nurse something had changed. And while you waited, you pressed your lips to his hand and the tears poured over his fingers as his heavy, weak hand cupped your cheek.

“Welcome back, Stud.” You managed to whisper, eventually finding your voice. “You had me worried for a while.”

He tried to move his lips, wanting to say so much to her but he couldn't for his dry mouth and throat stung and he started to look nervous, agitated.

"It's okay, you're okay." You spoke quickly, but assuringly. "You... You had to be intubated, so just relax. I'm right here. Sit still, just take it easy," you coax, all the while thinking where the hell was the nurse.

Almost as if by magic the door to his room opened and your head turned to see her breeze in.

“He’s awake.” You smiled as you said the words for the first time, hearing them out loud made it all the more real. “He’s awake.”

"Well, hello Mr. Diskant. Let's get you better settled." She turned to you and asked you to wait outside just so she could work to settle him more comfortably. As you nodded to go, he squeezed your hand tightly, his eyes piercing yours.

“I’m gonna be right outside, baby. I promise.”

You left the room and glanced back through the window to see Paul’s eyes following you and you gave him another encouraging smile as you waited in sight so he could see you, pulling out your phone to fire a quick, generic, simple text off to everyone you could think of telling them he was awake. As the various replies flooded back in, you read a few, smiling, before the nurse exited and you stuffed your phone back in your pocket and turned to her.

"Now that he's awake, we'll be moving him up to critical care. It's best he still tries to remain still and rest as best he can. You can expect some continued drowsiness and disorienting behavior." She gently took your hand in hers, "speaking is going to be hard at first, because he’s going to have tight and sore muscles and tendons in the neck. PT and Speech Therapy will probably come in once he's upstairs for an evaluation. But, personally speaking, I think he's a damn fighter and he's going to be just fine. I’ll go notify the doctors so they can come and speak to both him and you.”

"Thank you," you nodded. Your body suddenly felt so tired, your mind exhausted. A ding from the elevators brought his parents and yours forward, not giving a care that they were four over the one visitor rule in ICU.

“I didn’t see you.” The nurse tapped her nose before she bustled off up the corridor.

Paul’s parents turned to you and you gave them an exhausted but happy smile. “She said he should be fine. He’s really groggy and drowsy but he’s back with us.”

"Oh my boy," Dotty clutched her hand to her chest. Big Jim and your parents nodding in understanding as you all stepped inside.

For the next thirty minutes, the five of you sat in his room, just assuring him you were there for him, encouraging him to just rest. He'd nodded off a time or two, the grip of his hand in yours never ceasing. Then, as he was coming to, his attending doctor strolled in to check on his patient.

“Erm...” he looked around, no doubt to point out the blatant disregard for the rule of one but one look from both your dad and Jim stopped him in his tracks and he merely shook his head. “If anyone asks I never saw you.”

A smirk slipped passed your lips and you nodded. You gave Paul's hand a squeeze and stepped aside so the doctor could have a look at him.

The assessment took no more than ten or fifteen minutes, as he'd checked over vitals, sutures, bandages and behaviors and made sure Paul understood him through what they’d done in the operating theatre, Paul’s eyes growing wide as he realised the gravity of his condition. The doctor then reiterated what the nurse had said about PT and Speech Therapy as well as Vocational Therapy will be by to see him if not tonight once he was moved but in the morning for sure. He bid everyone goodbye and left you all with him again.

With the doctor gone and just you and the family around him, Paul's head rolled back on the pillow and his eyes screwed shut as he blinked back tears.

“Hey,” You gave his hand a squeeze with one of your own the other reaching up to gently touch his face, your thumb wiping away a tear. The bristle of his sudden beard, or the start of one tickling your palm. “You’re gonna be fine.” It was lame, but at that moment it was the only thing you could think of to say. There were no words to express what you were feeling, the sheer relief and hope that now consumed you felt almost alien in comparison to the sheer dark despair you’d felt over the last seven days and fourteen hours.

There was a long way to go, and you knew from everything the doctors had told you that it wouldn’t be easy but now he was awake you knew he’d make it.

Because Paul Diskant was a fighter, the most stubborn asshole you knew. The man you loved with everything you had.

With a smile, you wiped your own face and leaned over, placing the gentlest of kisses to his lips and when you moved back you saw his eyes were now bright, creased in the corner as his mouth raised in a soft smile.

**** Part 4

#rock n roll people in a disco world #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #Paul Diskant #paul diskant fan fiction #street kings #street kings fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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borkthemork · 3 years

Text

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended.

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #Finally it's its own standalone fic #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #I mainly just placed this stuff in the drabbles comp but I loved this one too much that I had to clean it up #I FORGOT TO PUT THE MARGINS

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kodzukyan · 3 years

Text

two hearts, four broken pieces (now we’re unbreakable)

notes: happiest belated birthday to my grand king <3 lots of (long?) dialogue, long talks at the beach, kinda clunky, but i hope you enjoy :> song accompaniment recommendation: unbreakable by lauren dyson (carole & tuesday) & everything i need by skylar grey! also posted on ao3.

summary: you were there like the air when i felt like i was underwater. AU in which you have matching birthmarks on your heart as your soulmate. - oikawa/oc

wc: 6.2k

The clock ticks continually as you finish reviewing the club budget for the upcoming school year. As the last rays of the sun begin to dim into a darkening blue, the clock rings loudly, signaling the end of club activities. The other student council members routinely leave by five, and after a quick goodbye and wave, two hours pass by without you knowing. You glance at your watch, and you sigh softly as you see the shorthand reach seven.

There are still numbers that do not add up, but you suppose that has to wait. Getting up to stretch, you automatically head to the keys cabinet to see which keys are still missing. As usual, the keys to the volleyball gym have yet to be returned.

Like any other day, you sigh again. This is a rather normal occurrence as the volleyball team tends to stay as late as you do. Normally, you don't mind since it’s not a big deal - you’re usually still here to lock up after they leave. Today, however, you’re rather exhausted and would like to finish up your report and just go home. Putting on your white blazer and patting down the wrinkles of your tan skirt, you make certain you’re presentable before you head out of the room and towards the volleyball gym.

A resounding smack reverberates through the air before you even enter the gym. You knock twice on the gym doors, and when there is no answer, you open the doors soundlessly and enter the gym. The gym is unoccupied except for one lone player, making the echoes of each movement louder.

He doesn’t notice you, and as you see him jump to hit a serve, you are in awe by the strength and impact of it as it lands. It astonishes you a little to discover the normally flirty eyes and teasing smiles with such intense concentration and seriousness. When you see a faint smile on his face as his serve lands within the lines of the court, you wonder if this is what he really is like. As he recovers another ball to try again, you clear your throat. This time, you catch his attention, somewhat.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan! You don’t have to wait for me. I’m almost done!” he calls out, eyes never leaving the court.

“Sorry, Oikawa-san. I am not Iwaizumi-san. While I do have to say I am extremely impressed with your tenacity, I am afraid it's late and time for you to go home,” you say politely with a perfectly practiced smile on your face.

The ball he tossed into the air previously drops straight down onto the floor and bounces as he hears your voice. He jerks his head towards you, and you almost want to laugh when you see his gaping mouth.

“Oh, Pres-chan! I wasn’t expecting you!” he recovers swiftly, a hand behind his head and his tongue sticking out humorously.

Ah, he’s back to his normal self.

“Apologies again,” you nod, a courteous smile never leaving your face, despite your slight disdain for your new nickname. You’ve learned it is easiest to deal with people with a perfect smile, lips upturned slightly at a 45-degree angle and eyes crinkled together lightly.

He stares at you intensely as you smile. While his eyes are analytical enough to press anyone under, it doesn’t bother you because you are used to such scrutiny.

“I’ll pack up! Pres-chan, wait for me! I’ll walk you home since it’s so late.” He finally softens in his stares and begins picking up the balls around the court.

“No need to worry about me, Oikawa-san. There are still some matters for me to finish up at the student council room,” you assure him courteously despite your mild annoyance at your stray strand of hair that fell out of your neat ponytail as you tuck it behind your ear.

“No, no! I insist! It’s so late, so it’s dangerous for cute girls like you, Pres-chan!” he protests as he continues cleaning.

You begin assisting him to pick up the balls and grab the mops to clean up the gym. The more hands there are, the faster you two get to leave. After cleaning up the gym and returning the keys to the student council room, you continue to decline his offer of walking you home. Being around him for a little less than 30 minutes has already tired you, but you find it more draining to talk him out of it so you just relent.

He accompanies you back to your house at your pace, constantly filling the silence with some sort of conversation. He seems to recognize your need for distance, so he keeps the conversation light, never diving in deeper than what you are willing to give. You respond as amiable as you could with this surface-level sort of conversation. This is comfortable, this is straightforward, this is not about who you are, so you find it easy to keep up your practiced smile and pleasantry.

For what it’s worth, you can understand why he’s so popular. He’s attractive, and his personality is tolerable enough. But something about him is slightly unpleasant to you. You have an inkling of what it is, but you’re not ready to open the tightly sealed jar of emotions yet.

When you reach your stop and he bids you goodbye, you find yourself face to face with your cousin, who just squeals and questions you.

“Who is he?” she exclaims loudly, far too energetic for so late at night. “What if he is your soulmate?!”

You smile tersely, “He is just a classmate.”

She only looks at you in confusion. “Eh? You never know! Did you already see his mark?”

You flash her a practiced smile as you excuse yourself.

“No, I was born without one.”

---

You like routine. This is something you’ve established for as long as you remember. If things are set in place, set in stone, then they are less likely to fall apart, to break.

So when walking home with Oikawa Tooru stays as a recurring part of your days, it makes you uneasy.

This is not part of your normal routine. But you suppose him returning the volleyball gym keys instead of you wrestling him for them is also not part of your normal routine.

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re kind of dumb."

You finally look up from your papers. Your pen still in hand, eyes in disbelief, and voice laced with venom as you hiss, “Excuse me?”

“Pres-chan, even I know when to stop. It's nearly 8 in the evening. Your body needs rest so you can function as efficiently as you always want to,” he rolls his eyes as he air-quotes the word efficiently. The volleyball gym keys jingle in his hand as he does so, and the sound of it aggravates your headache.

"This is coming from the one who stays behind two hours every day after club activity ends? Stop trying to preach what you don’t practice." Your grip on your pen tightens.

"I take Mondays off," he shrugs and offers a lopsided smile. There's a serious glint in his eyes despite his casual gestures.

You know he's right because the keys to the volleyball club always hang neatly and untouched every Monday. You know he's right when you finally let yourself feel the tiredness in your body. You know he's right when your headache finally catches up to you, but you simply cannot completely let go.

Maybe he sees your sagging shoulders and weary eyes, so he doesn't press the matter anymore. He hangs the clubroom keys in the cabinet before he walks over.

"You can rest, you know?"

You do, but you can't. Not when there are so many reports to fill out and papers to file, not when the club budgeting still isn't adding up, not when you have to be the you that your father created inside his head. Your brows cease together as your head throbs. Before you could respond, you feel a gentle pat on your head that brings you out of your thoughts.

"You're doing great, Pres-chan. Take a break," he speaks softly as he strokes your head.

You close your eyes at his touch, and you relish in his gentleness. For someone with such calloused hands, his touch is surprisingly tender. His voice sounds distant, and it feels like he's speaking past you, like he's speaking to whoever he sees in place of you. You think maybe this is what you needed anyways, this is what you want to hear even if he’s speaking to himself through you.

"Take a nap. I'll wake you up in 20 minutes," he ruffles your hair, messing up your perfectly tied ponytail.

You glance at him briefly, and his stupid smile irritates you. Maybe your headache is getting the better of you, maybe you’re just too tired, but you find yourself nodding as your shoulders finally drop in defeat. "10 minutes."

He laughs as he agrees, and when you finally lay your head down and close your eyes, you briefly feel the warmth of his jersey before you drift off.

When you wake, you find that Oikawa is sitting beside you, humming a soft tune as he scrolls on his phone. It takes you a moment to blink the sleep out of your eyes, and then it occurs to you that he never woke you up. Your eyes flutter to the clock, and when you see that it's a little past 9, you panic. You shoot instantly up from your seat, and your sudden movement leaves you dizzy as the world around you rapidly spins in color. Oikawa stops mid-hum as looks up from his phone before he secures your arm to steady you.

"Holy shit, I thought I told you to wake me up in 10 minutes. The papers need to be filed so we can work on the report due next week. I need to finish the reports, so I can turn them in on Friday. The budgeting excel -."

"Pres-chan." He cuts you off as he takes his hand off your arm and pokes your forehead. "I filed the papers on your desk. They go into their respective color-coded drawers, right? And the reports are just club updates, yeah? I arranged them by club type, so you can just sort through them later. Also, I put the volleyball club on top, so get to us first, okay?" he teases lightly and sticks his tongue out mischievously. "I didn't mess with your budgeting excel because it's not my place to, but don't you think you can ask your treasurer to explain their budgeting and money management so far?"

You blink at him in silence as you take in all the information he told you. You glance over at your desk and see the piles of loose paper gone. In place are new stacks of reports clipped together with the assortment of pastel paper clips you brought last month on a whim. Your surprise overtakes you as you let out a shaky breath.

"Oh," you whisper, breath still quivering and voice slightly trembling. "Thank you."

You make a mental note to double-check everything again in the morning, just in case. That thought almost flies out of your head when you glance over, and the smile he flashes you is so bright you almost forget how to breathe.

"You're welcome."

When he accompanies you home that night, your steps feel a little lighter and your heart soars a little higher as you catch a glimpse of his profile, eyes fixated on the stars above as he tells you stories of constellations and aliens.

---

While you’re not an avid volleyball fan, witnessing their defeat to Karasuno in such a close match, watching the light in their eyes dim into a quiet somber crush on your heart. When the match was over and they asked for the keys to the gym, you gave it to them without hesitation although the gym is supposed to be closed for cleaning later today.

Throughout the hours, you find yourself unable to completely focus on the paperwork in front of you. Your eyes keep trailing to the empty key slot where the gym keys are supposed to be, and your ears are fixated on each tick of the clock. Fidgeting with your pen, you finally give in and let out an uneven sigh when the clock rings eight. After smoothing out your skirt and blazer and retying your neat ponytail, you make your way to the gym.

As always, you knock on the doors before coming in. Only silence greets you.

The gym is vacant, and the cheering crowds and rest of the volleyball team members have long gone home after their spontaneous practice. Volleyballs are still scattered everywhere, the net is still up, but none of that matters as your eyes focus on the lone figure lingering in this solemn, almost crushing, silence.

His eyes are downcast, but you can tell from the hitching movement of his chest and the pooling puddle in his lap that he hasn't stopped crying. There is so much you want to tell him, but no words come to you. You’re not even sure if you’re in a position to say anything, but when you see him sitting there defeated and crying silently, a split image of yourself instead of him appears for a moment. The tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve repeatedly tried to suppress opens.

"You don't have to be perfect, you know?" you tell him softly.

He doesn't look up and only clenches his fists.

You pat the creases out of your skirt as you squat down, hands gently touching his before clasping them firmly. The words burn in the back of your throat as your eyes tear because you know. You know this feeling, this absolutely crushing feeling when all you have is taken away and you’re just left with nothing. Maybe you’re projecting your failures onto him, maybe this is just what you wanted to hear, but you tell him all the same.

"You're so much more than just your losses," you whisper with gentle firmness, "This is not the end. Not for you. Not for your volleyball."

His calloused hands only grip yours tightly as his silent tears fall and roll off your skin.

"You are not your failures."

You barely detect the sound of him letting out a deep breath, but he squeezes your hands. It may not be enough, it may not be okay, but it’s a start.

As the two of you sit in silence, you can merely laugh at yourself for ever thinking Oikawa Tooru was anywhere close to perfect. He is incredibly fragile, human, and unlike a star that you thought you could never reach, he is here beside you. He sniffles every so often, and when every so often becomes more often than not, you laugh lightly and offer him a tissue.

He accepts it with a sniffle, and as he blows his nose, you could only crinkle your nose.

“Ew, you’re gross,” you lightly poke fun at him.

“I was going to say thank you, but I take it back now,” he gasps dramatically.

You roll your eyes as you offer him the rest of your tissues. “It’s fine. I don’t need your thanks. Just… feel better.”

“Thank you,” he whispers anyway as he props his head on yours.

---

You hear three knocks, two fast knocks, a pause as if it’s left for drastic effects, before the third knock, in a familiar rhythm. Instantly, the wooden doors of the student council room open, and brown hair and honey-colored eyes peek in.

“Wanna do something fun with me, Pres-chan?” Oikawa asks, eyes brilliant and smile equally mischievous.

"... Depends on what it is," you raise an eyebrow at him as you look up from finishing some preparations for university. You've substantially given up trying to advise him to wait before barging into the student council room.

He wiggles his eyebrows before he grins. “Let’s go to the rooftop!"

It takes you a moment to comprehend what he said because while it’s not that crazy, the rooftop is off-limits to students. Subsequently, it occurs to you that out of your three years here, you've under no circumstances done anything remotely rebellious. The adrenaline hits you, so you snatch the keys to the rooftop before heading out the door.

"Alright, let's go."

He freezes before his mouth drops and gasps dramatically. "Heh, Pres-chan, looks like you really aren't that much of a good girl after all."

You roll your eyes at him, and a soft smile finds a way to your face before you walk out. "Hurry up, or I'm leaving you behind."

"Wait for me!!" You hear the scampering footsteps, and you swear you can hear his pout.

This is the first time you’ve ever been on the rooftop, you think, as you finally unlock the door and step out into the sun. It’s a little past seven, and you think the sun is going to set soon as it slowly fades behind the Miyagi skylines in bursts of orange. You close your eyes as the wind blows, almost as if it’s greeting you. You can see why people skip all the time to be up here.

“Feels pretty good, huh?” Oikawa stands beside you as the wind tousles his hair and the sun kisses his skin. He looks radiant under the sunlight, and you merely hope he doesn’t hear the fluttering of your heart.

“Yeah,” you nod along, “I… I wish I came up here earlier.

Honey brown eyes so deep and warm, staring directly at you, and there is something that you’re terrified to name. You always thought love was something dramatic, once in a lifetime, and it just hits you like a train out of nowhere. With Oikawa Tooru, it feels more like learning to walk - steadily, one step after another, until he becomes a part of your natural routine.

You can see the longing and something akin to love in his eyes, but you know it's not love. You know when he loves, he loves with all his being. Right now, there is something, but it's not love because he sees not only you but also past you. He sees the light at the end of the tunnel, the future where he's standing on a volleyball court with his name on the back of a national team jersey. He sees the passion and the love he has for volleyball beyond you, and even when he's here in the moment, even when he likes you, he sees something greater.

Your heart clenches because you want it to be you, you want you, this to be enough. But you know he is meant for something so much greater. He is meant for the stage lights of an international court, living and thriving with so much passion and love for the sport he dedicates his life to. He is unmeant to be here, to be held back by something called love.

You try ignoring the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, try ignoring the way his eyes linger at your lips as if he wants to kiss you. You try ignoring your yearning heart when all you can hear in your head is him telling you he's going to Argentina.

“You’re going to do great in Argentina.” You swallow the lump in your throat and interlace your own fingers together to prevent yourself from reaching out and holding his hand.

He blinks, and slowly retracts his extended hand, and swallows the words he wants to tell you. “Oh, uhm,” he hesitates. “Geez, Pres-chan! Don’t make it sound like we’re never going to see each other again!” he pouts dramatically, voice creaking just ever so slightly and eyes lacking the playful glint in it. “We’ll see each other again.”

He sounds hesitant, almost as if he’s doubtful if he can uphold the words of a promise. He doesn’t deserve to be held back by a promise.

You let him go.

It’s funny because you don’t even think he is yours to let go, but you smile anyway as you catch his unfaltering eyes back on the sunset. He is the one who teaches you a little bit about being okay, the one who first opens the tightly sealed jar and lets a gale of fresh air into your world.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly. Your hand finds its way to him, fingertips ghosting over his hand almost as if you didn’t just reject his moments ago.

The wind blows softly, and the blooming cherry blossoms flutter as he blinks in confusion before he smiles crookedly too. In a world where you are braver, you would have voiced the three words lingering on your mind instead of the two that came out, and your lips would have been on his instead of settling for a ghost of a touch of hands. But in this world, this is all you can do, all you can intend for.

Instead, the two of you continue to stand in silence, sharing this one last moment where he can stand on both legs without leaning to his left to accommodate for his right knee, where you can laugh in a loose smile and ruffled hair without feeling the need to fix them. It’s satisfactory, you tell yourself, this is enough.

While he may not be your soulmate, while you have no soulmate mark, it hurts all the same. Your heart still breaks as the falling sunlight fades into the deep indigo skies, as he waves goodnight, as you watch him go with the world on his shoulders and wings on his back. The hollowness in your chest aches, and you wonder if this is what heartbreak feels like.

---

“Funny, huh? Out of all the people in the world, out of all the places in the world, I end up meeting you on an Argentinian beach, thousands of miles away from home,” you stifle your laughter softly.

The hot summer wind blows into your unbound hair, bringing grains of sand and the scent of the ocean. The shore calls you, and you find yourself wiggling your toes in the clear waters. As you look to the horizon, you find that the crystalline waters contrast vividly against the soft pinks and oranges of the fading sun. It’s so surreal, and it makes you momentarily forget that there are responsibilities, people waiting for you back at home.

The faint rustling and the loud splash of water wake you from your trance, and you find Oikawa Tooru running into the waters carefreely. His pants are roughly rolled up just barely above the water level. His eyes are tender and his smile is wide as he holds his hand out to you.

“Come on, Pres-chan,” he gestures his hand in front of you again. “The water feels really nice!”

You take a moment to breathe because he looks beautiful with his brown eyes twinkling mischievously and lips upturned jovially and carefreely against the fleeting sunset. You smile once more, lips upturn softly instead of the traditional 45 degrees, as the last strands of your hair frees from your hair tie.

You briefly remember being eighteen, standing on the rooftop of your high school. His hand is extended, but you were too afraid to take it, too afraid to become a burden. You blink once and think maybe this time, he should have a say in his own decisions instead of you selfishly making it for him. You take his hand, hesitantly and shyly, as you take your first steps into the water.

Time stills as your eyes meet his brown ones. He stares at you dumbfoundedly, and you are unsure if the pinks of his cheeks are from you or the sunset.

“You look happier,” he finally comments softly, “I’m glad.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him dumbfoundedly. Your hand covers a slight laugh that breaks from your lips. You take in his wind-tousled chestnut hair and eyes closed from his laughter, his muscular body that no longer tends to lean on his left side absentmindedly to protect his right knee, and you realize he is more genuine, more candid, more Oikawa Tooru than the one you’ve known since high school.

“You do too.”

”Wanna grab drinks after?” Oikawa asks nonchalantly as the two of you finally make your way out of the water and sit under the broad umbrella from the blazing sun. His long legs are stretched out as he leans back, hands propping him up.

Despite his relaxed posture and even voice, you see his fingers wiggling in the sand and the pinks peeking on his cheeks and the tip of his ears. It almost makes you laugh because you’re certain you can reckon on one hand how many times Oikawa Tooru seems so timid.

“I mean”- he continues, taking your silence as a declination, -“just as friends, to catch up, you know? How have you been? Oh! What about your cousin? Didn’t she -”

“Okay,” you laugh lightly. “I’d be happy to.”

“-Oh, now that I think about it, what did you end up doing- wait -” he pauses mid-sentence as he stares at you bewilderedly, ”-okay?”

“Yes,” you laugh again, much louder and without restraint. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats after you again.

“Yes, okay.” You nod.

The smile he gives you is so bright it outshines the sun.

---

"So, how are you?" he asks again once you're seated beside him, a beer in hand and dusk in view.

You offered a general answer earlier, and it started a train of small talk that never breaches past the surface. It reminds you of high school and leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

The beach in Argentina is always full of life, but it's quieter now. Maybe it's the fact that it's getting late or the fact that you're on your third beer already, all you can focus on is the man beside you.

Maybe you're more honest now too because he looks like he wants to ask more. (Like he asks “how are you?” when all his eyes are saying is “I love you.”)

"I threw my phone into the ocean and got in a screaming match with my dad," you tell him honestly.

You can feel his gaze on you as he lets out a soft hum to let you know he's listening. It used to unnerve you whenever he looks at you like that, whenever he makes you feel so transparent. Now, it makes you smile because he always makes you feel so seen.

"He told me to be all these things that I am not because he wanted me to have a good life. I know his intentions and know it makes him happy. But I was so fed up with just constantly not being enough for who he wanted me to be, so I told him I just wanted to be his daughter."

You don't realize your hands are shaking until you feel his hands on yours. He pulls the beer bottle out of your hands before he places them into his own and squeezes them.

"And what did he say?" he asks softly, recalling all the late nights and the mask you put on at school in the name of a shadow that always looms over you. He remembers the instant drop of your face whenever your father comes up, when the words duty and filial piety become a burden instead of pride on your shoulders.

"He just kinda stared at me and stopped talking. I think it didn't occur to him that this was a thought in my head. I cried a lot." You squeeze his hands back.

"Yeah, I'm glad you gave him a piece of your mind, though." His voice is gentle as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

"He cut me fruit after, so I think we're okay," you laugh awkwardly as you flash him a smile. "I think I'm okay."

He smiles too when he notices your smile is a lot freer now, that the corners of your lips are no longer locked in place and forced in front of fake pleasantries. Maybe he's freer now too, he thinks as he looks at the brightly lit skies, as he continues his volleyball journey, feeling so fulfilled despite being thousands of miles away from home.

"I used to think I wasn't good enough," he starts honestly with a small laugh. "No matter how hard I work, I could never be enough compared to geniuses who just get it."

“I used to think you were so put together when I initially met you, like the universe's spotlight was meant for you,” you hum. “Until I realized you were the reason why the volleyball gym keys were never returned on time.”

He laughs light-heartedly. “Hey, I had an image to keep up, okay?”

You tuck in your knees and prop your head on top of them, eyes never leaving his, hand still in his. “I think I realized you were a lot more reachable, human even, when I saw you broke down after losing to Karasuno our third year.”

“Are you deriving comfort in my pain? How rude!” He pouts. “But I somewhat get it. I used to think you were super snobby with your fake smiles and your super tight ponytail. I used to think you were going to be balding early!”

“You were the one who habitually had a hoard of fangirls around you, and nobody could get anyplace in the hallways!” You retort with a fond smile.

Memories of high school seem so long ago, and as you recall each one, you see the light in his eyes waning and waxing with the tides. The feelings you try so hard to bury, the ones you try to let go of the day he set off to Argentina bubble through your chest and flow onto your lips.

"I think I was too scared to love you," you finally whisper as the moon rises and the waves kiss the shore.

He stares at you and blinks once, twice, before he breathes a soft, “Oh.”

You finally take your eyes off him, hand finally wiggling its way out of his to encase yourself as you bury your face in your knees. “I wanted to be enough. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t for my dad, wasn’t for myself, wasn’t for you.”

He leans closer and brushes a strand of loose hair off your face. “You are always enough. For your dad, for yourself,” he pauses and smiles gently, “And you are more than enough for me.”

You peek at him through your lashes. The ocean waves drown out the sound of your heartbeat as he stares at you earnestly, eyes honest and lips so, so close.

“I didn’t want you to regret me,” you whisper, voice barely audible, “I didn’t want to be someone who holds you back from your dreams. I didn’t want to be just temporary until you find your soulmate.”

His eyes widen, but he persists steadily close. “I don’t think I could ever regret you. My dreams will always be the national court, but you being there, by my side, would be the best part of it.”

He takes a breath as he reaches for your hand, much like he did at the rooftop of your high school.

“I was born without a soulmate mark. Initially, I was so upset because I thought no one would love me unconditionally like a soulmate is supposed to. But honestly, fuck that. Fuck soulmates. Fuck some pre-destined person supposedly made for you because no one is. We are in control of our own fate, and we are in control of whom we choose to love. And I like you Pres-chan. I have since I was eighteen and dumb. I still like you now at twenty and still a little dumb. But no matter how old I am, how old I will be, it’s always you. I will always choose to love you.”

You breathe in sharply as you listen to his words, every sound and syllable clear as his eyes as he looks at you, only you. There is only truth in his words, and as your eyes wander from his to his hand and back to his eyes, the overwhelming amount of sincerity overwhelms you.

Oikawa Tooru has always been dedicated in all that he does, and the thought that he is offering you that very same dedicated heart of his becomes a consuming warmth in your chest. The heat of your fluttering heart radiates off your cheeks, and the feeling that has been blossoming in your heart blooms into an indescribable softness and affection.

Love has perpetually been something out of reach, something you witness in movies and read in books, something you witness in your friends and cousin. But love is here now, in the form of Oikawa Tooru with his hands stretched out for you to take, with his heart bare and exposed for you to have.

“I was born without a soulmate mark too. I used to hate it because it felt like it was another thing I was lacking in. I wasn’t even enough to have a soulmate,” you breathe out, eyes on the ocean that reflects on the moonlight. The last bits of the tightly sealed jar of emotions you’ve kept finally flows out.

“But if soulmates do exist, I would like to think they are made. Not in the sense that they are made for each other, because fuck destiny, but in the sense that we wake up every morning and choose who fits us and how they fit. And whatever this is we have between us, we forged it,” you start firmly as you place your hand in his, eyes meeting his. The last bit of bitterness flows into the sea, and the only thing that remains at the bottom of this jar is hope.

“I like you too, Oikawa. I have since I was eighteen and smart. I still do at twenty and moderately smarter but still trying to figure life out. And I don’t know what the future holds or even what I’m doing to do from here on, but I want it to be you.”

“I want it to be you too. I can’t promise you the world or where our lives will lead from here onwards. What I can promise is I will choose you, from the moment I wake up until the moment I sleep, from now until the end of the ocean.”

A promise, his truth. While the unknown horrifies you, this is enough. You smile as you squeeze his hand. When he grins and squeezes your hand back, you think maybe love is irrevocably here to stay.

---

“What were you before you met me?” He takes one of your hands in his and uses his other in an attempt to tame your unconstrained hair against the wind. He pouts when he finds that your hair just blows wildly and gives up, but he smiles, nonetheless, when he hears your unrestrained laughter.

You shake your hair out of your face and turn to face him, hair blowing wildly and freely with the wind. You tear your eyes away from slow waves of the ocean, illuminated by the brilliant reds and oranges of the setting sun, and you find yourself more captivated by glowing brown eyes than you ever could by the dazzling colors of the horizon.

You stare briefly at him, looking into his eyes and seeing his relentless soul, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter like they did the very first time, feeling absolutely starstruck. You hum softly as you turn back to the peaceful waves and remember the tight ponytails and painted smiles of your high school days. You remember the weight on your shoulders to become someone ideal and the heaviness on your heart to become a you that only lives to make your father proud.

“I think... I was drowning,” you answer almost inaudibly but honestly, both hands gripping his tightly as if you’re holding a lifeline.

He pauses for a moment before he squeezes your hands again. He whispers then, reluctantly and almost fearfully, “And what are you now?”

You turn to meet his eyes. You recall him at seventeen and feeling annoyed because he mirrored every bit of the pretense you put up in all the undesirable ways. But you see him now, twenty and free of the inferiority and limitations he places on himself, and you wonder if you also look older, wiser, happier because you are now the you you want to be.

You have always associated him with air because he is terrible and unpredictable, destructive and clear, focused and silent. But he is also comforting and calm, like an invisible force, who's consistently going and going, with unhindered sight. He is always persistently here and cannot be turned away, and before long, you find yourself not knowing what to do without it.

At the moment, you find the last bits of the riptides that pull you under the waters finally cease, and as you enjoy the scent of the salty ocean and hear the lull of the gentle waves, you think you can finally breathe freely and vivaciously.

Slowly, you take a hand to trace the outline of the miniature matching sun tattooed on his chest, where the soulmate mark is supposed to appear. You smile undoubtedly and wholeheartedly.

“Water.”

---

you’re what i need cause now i can breathe; you put the beat in my heart. somehow we fit together, and now we’re unbreakable.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #oikawa fluff #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa toru x you #happy birthday to my mf grand king <3 #slightly late because tumblr was being dumb </3 #please give unbreakable from carole and tuesday a listen! :')#this has been sitting in my drafts since october lmfao pls take it before i hate it even more pain #sorry for the choppiness </3 #sometimes i write things #soulmates au series #text

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space-blue · 3 years

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hey! first things first, I love your writing. the way you manage to keep every single characterization consistent is just *chefs kiss* and I really like your writing style! seeing you've updated always makes me smile:)

and second, I was wondering whether it would be okay to borrow some of your arcane related ocs, (like Talia and Mek and others you mention in your stories) and write about them or include them in my stories? (crediting you as their creator of course)

Thank you so much for your appreciation! Don't mind me being weird, I don't get that many cute anons complimenting my writing. It's a real joy to see so many people enjoying the story that started as a way to heal from the gut-wrenching experience Arcane season 1 was. Gives me the feeling sometimes that I'm some kind of modern day shaman, that my early followers have all joined in order to run away from canon and benefit from this healing ritual where everything will be just a little better, just a little less like a kick in the spiritual balls.

I hope you enjoy where the story goes!

As for OCs, of course! First off, Mek isn't a real OC

He's got a model and a presence, more so than most henchmen. If you want to adopt the name Mek, you have more than my blessing, you have my benediction. Having the fandom adopt the name you made for a character is bananas levels of giddy satisfaction.

IDK who first called Dooku in Star Wars "Yan", but I bet they still feel a blissful glow whenever they read a fic with "Yan Dooku" in it (I wonder if this mighty Senpai read mine?) I'd love to be them, stumble on a fic that gives Mek the time of day. I'd cackle and preen, most likely, and give my flatmate a hard time.

If you want to depict him as I do in my fics, you're also more than welcome to! I'm not hung up on such details. I feel like being part of fandom means that we're all playing with the same toys. Since we're already using someone else's to begin with, it'd be in bad taste if I took offense when people use the ones I create!

This being said, I'm not done working with Mek, and he gets a twist reveal on his role in Silco's gang that I'm looking forward to sprinkle in a couple of different stories, but won't hit F&D for another month.

That brings me to my point : you should feel free to make them your OC too. Mek doesn't have to be Silco's oldest follower, and he doesn't have to be his spy master. That's just my take on him. You're welcome to call him Mek and make him a bruiser.

As for Talia... Again, you're welcome to make Sevika's older sis Talia, and credit would be lovely.

But she's supposed to get fleshed out in the (future, upcoming, I swear) chapters of Son of Zaun. In the meantime she's a total nobody. Maybe I can try to do an OC ask game or something to flesh her out, if that'd be interesting to you... But in general I make my OCs the same way I write :

I'm a hardcore pantser, so my creative process is very much staring at a blank Ulysses page and letting the words flow out. I write dialogue like a conversation I'm overhearing in the back of my mind. I don't like defining OCs ahead of time the same way I don't like planning or plotting. It makes me feel trapped and rigid. It makes me lose interest. Less so with OCs but... Let's say I'm not actually curious about them.

I don't have a desire of understanding them better. I get to know them when I put them in a situation in my story and they just... react a certain way. It's more like they reveal themselves.

If my writing process were a car, it would be like this :

So, basically, what I'm trying to say... Is that Talia is a nobody now, but in a week she might end up being this very detailed person, with weird hobbies and relationship to Silco, and turn out to be nothing like the OC you've made. You have to be OK with that, because as you can see above, I'm not driving the car.

Make Talia her own person! Or wait for me to make something more of her. Up to you! Either way I'm delighted to see you loving my OCs, and happy for them to be adopted.

We're all just playing on the endless sand pit of fandom. If you wanna play with my toys I'd love to gift them to you!

#ask #anon #arcane #fanfic

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)

a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity! ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.

Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.

Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.

It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.

“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.

December 31st

A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.

Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.

Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.

“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.

The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.

“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.

Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.

“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.

Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.

It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.

Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.

He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.

“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.

“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.

He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.

“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.

“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.

The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.

“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.

“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.

“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”

“How do you know him?”

Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.

“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”

Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Y’ don’t like to go out?”

“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.

The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.

Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.

The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.

He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.

Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.

“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.

They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.

Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.

Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.

“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.

Then the countdown begins.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”

Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.

“Seven!... Six!...”

Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.

“Five!... Four!...”

She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.

“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”

The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.

Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.

Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.

He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.

The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.

She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.

The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.

“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.

One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.

Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.

After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.

“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.

The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.

“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.

“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”

The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”

Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?

“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”

Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”

“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.

“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.

He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.

He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?

She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.

When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.

“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.

“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.

“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”

“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.

“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.

Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.

Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.

There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.

Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.

His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.

How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.

As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.

The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.

Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.

“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.

“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.

“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.

“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.

“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.

He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.

He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.

He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.

Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.

“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.

“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.

“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.

“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.

“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.

“Harry, that’s… not the case.”

“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.

“Mommy! I want this!”

At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.

“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”

It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.

“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.

He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he blurts out.

“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”

“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.

“What?”

“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.

“No, we were never even married.”

He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.

“Okay, it��s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.

“You thought I was married?”

“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.

“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.

“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”

“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”

“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.

“Because of Benji, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.

“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”

“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.

“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”

“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.

“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.

“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.

She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.

“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”

“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes.”

Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.

“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”

“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”

She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.

And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.

The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.

“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”

“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”

Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.

“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.

Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.

“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.

“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”

Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.

“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?” Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.

“Of course I did!” she sighs.

“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”

“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.

“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.

“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.

“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.

The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.

“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.

Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.

Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”

They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.

“I really don’t know…” she sighs.

“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”

“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”

Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.

Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.

“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.

“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.

“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”

“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”

Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.

“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”

Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.

“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”

“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.

“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”

“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”

“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.

Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.

“What?”

“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.

“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.

“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”

His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.

“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”

“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.

“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”

“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”

“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.

“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”

“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.

“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.

“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”

“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”

A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.

“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.

They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.

“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”

“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”

“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”

They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.

NEXT PART

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marvelgurl · 3 years

Text

Off-Limits: Part 9

Characters: Tom Holland X Reader Osterfield, Harrison Osterfield, Holland boys (mentioned), Dr. Riley Cotter (OC)

Word Count: 4780

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Therapy, Mild Anxiety/ Panic Attack

A/n: Sorry there was no update on this series last week, Life decided to be a bitch and get in the way.

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As always Feedback is more than welcome. The Good and The Bad. I really helps me.

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You don’t know how long you were standing in the middle of this giant hug but when it was over, it seemed like it was too soon. After everything that has happened the last couple months, there was this sense of peace that finally came over you. Now you were going to work hard to keep it like this. You know it’s going to be an up-hill battle, but you know that you have an amazing support system behind you.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Tom’s voice brought you out of your thought.

“Just how lucky I am to have all of you. I’m starting to realize that I can’t do this on my own. I have built up so many walls around myself that I need to learn to break them down to let the people that I care about most back in.” You looked down at your feet, you didn’t want to see the reactions on their faces.

“We are all here for you Y/n. No matter what, we will help you in any way that we can.” He pulled you into him and kissed the side of your head.

Not being able to trust your voice, you just smiled. You leaned into Tom resting your head on his shoulder. It was getting late, and you guys have had a long day. Harrison could see that you were tired.

“Y/n I think it’s time to go. You look like you are about to pass out right here.” He let out a small chuckle.

“Okay.” you let out a yawn. “Goodnight guys.”

“Goodnight Y/n.” The boys said in unison.

“Goodnight Darling.” Tom gave you one last hug before letting you go with Harrison.

“Goodnight Tom.” You walked to the car with Harrison. Tom didn’t go back inside until your car was out of sight.

You started falling asleep on the drive back to your flat. After Harrison parked the car, he came around to get you out. You stopped him from trying to pick you up, you got out of the car and wrapped an arm around him for support. Once you had gotten into your flat you let go of him and turned to him.

“I have a surprise for you.” You gave him a sleepy smile.

“I’m sure it can wait until morning Y/n.” he chuckled.

“No, it can’t. Follow me.”

You turned and pointed down the hall. You dramatically walked like Gollum towards the spare room. This caused Harrison to double over in a laughing fit, but that also didn’t stop him from pulling out his phone to record you. You were currently using the spare room as an office, but you wanted Harrison to feel more at home. You also didn’t want him to have to sleep on the couch anymore while he is here. Once outside the door, you were still in a crouching stance. You reached up to the doorknob before looking up to him with a scrunched-up face.

“Are you ready Harrison?” You said in your best Gollum voice.

“Absolutely not, but I am loving this.” He gestured to all of you. “For someone who was dead tired less than a minute ago, you sure have a burst of energy.”

“Well, I am just excited.” You stood up and started talking normally. “I just wanted to do a little something for you. You have done so much for me, that I want to return the favor.”

“You didn’t have to do anything for me. You’re my sister I would do anything for you.”

“Exactly! I’m your sister and I would do anything for you too.” You moved back to the door and opened it. “Come on, go in.” You gestured for him to walk in.

Harrison hesitantly walked around you into the room. You had gotten him the full set up, a queen size bed, nightstands, dresser and a television. Even after he wasn’t staying with you anymore you would have a full guest room/ office.

“Oh my…” Harrison was speechless. “When did you…? How did you…?” He was walking around the room in awe.

“Well, it wasn’t easy I can tell you that much.” You said as you slightly sat on your desk. “I had to do it over a few days. Do you remember when you had to leave to help Tom with movie stuff for a few days?”

“Yeah, you did this when I left you?”

“I didn’t do most of it.” You lifted up your hand, it was almost fully healed now. “I had a lot of help, I did more of the decorating part. So, I hope you like it.”

“Like it? I love it.” He came over and hugged you. “I may never go back to mum’s.”

“Woah let’s not get too caried away here. As much as I love you, that’s going to be a firm no.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t want to live with your favorite brother?”

“Haz you are my only brother.”

“Then by default your favorite.” He had a big grin on his face.

“I am so not awake enough for this anymore.” You gave him a pat on the shoulder before heading towards the door. “Goodnight Haz.”

“Thank you for this Y/n. Goodnight.” You walked to your room for some much-needed sleep.

The next morning, you were up earlier than Harrison, so you decided to make breakfast for the both of you. You grabbed two plates and mugs, setting them on the island for when you were ready for them. You made a quick breakfast of bacon, eggs and hash browns before starting on making the tea. When you were almost done Harrison came out of his room, his hair was all over the place. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Wow… You look amazing.” You were trying to hold in your laughter.

“Well thank you.” He attempted to fix his hair but only made it worse. “That bed is amazing. It’s better than the one I have at home.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it.”

You put food onto the plates for the two of you. Then you handed him his cup of tea. You both sat down to eat. Harrison could tell there was something on your mind, just by the look on your face he knew.

“What do you have planned for today?”

“Umm… I was able to find a therapist. I figured that it’s time that I try to deal with things like an adult.” You were just pushing your food around at this point. You ate a fair amount but all of a sudden you weren’t hungry. “I umm... was wondering if you could maybe…”

“Go with you?” You didn’t look at him, just nodded. “Yes, I will go with you.”

“Really?” You finally looked over to him, with a shocked look in your face.

“Don’t act so surprised.” He gently pushed your arm. “I would do anything for you. You know that, right?

You had decided that you should take the doctor’s advice and go to see a therapist. In all honesty you didn’t think it was going to help. You were going to give it a chance though. You had found one close enough to your flat that you could walk to, his name is Dr. Riley Cotter. Today was your first meeting with him, and you were nervous. You had initially asked Harrison to come with you instead of Tom because there are things in your past that you just needed to keep quiet, and right now you were kind of wishing you hadn’t asked Harrison to come.

You and Harrison were standing outside of his office. Your appointment was in a few minutes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go inside.

“Are you okay?” Harrison noticed you shaking.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this.” You started rubbing your hands together, in an attempt to try and steady them.

“How about we sit here until you’re supposed to go in, then if you don’t think you can, we will go back home. Okay?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

The both of you sat down on a bench outside, Harrison wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him. You sat there for a few minutes before you heard the door to the building open. You looked up to see a man standing in the doorway. He looked over to you and Harrison with a smile.

“I’m guessing putting a bench in was a smart idea.”

“Yeah, sorry I just needed a few minutes to calm my nerves.” You said as you stood up, pulling on the sleeves of your jumper.

“That is completely fine. Take your time. I’m here when you’re ready.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

“I think I’m ready.” You looked to Harrison who stood up.

“Y/n.” You looked back up to the man. “For the first couple of sessions, I don’t allow my clients to bring other people in. I just want you to be able to talk freely. I want you to feel like you can say certain things and you can’t do that with someone else here.”

“Oh… Okay.”

Harrison gave you a look as to ask if you were okay. You just nodded your head and walked to the door where Dr. Cotter was standing. Once inside, the building had an open concept. It was wide open; it didn’t feel like what you thought a therapist’s office would feel or look like. It looked as if you were just walking into someone’s home. You were looking around for a while, just scoping out the place.

“Y/n?”

You looked over to where Dr. Cotter is standing. There were a few different places to sit. Over to the left side there was a large couch with a few matching chairs around a coffee table. Off to the right by a large window was a table with a couple of chairs.

“This doesn’t feel like a therapists office.” You gestured to your surroundings.

“I know. I wanted to make my office different. I get a lot of clients in here that absolutely hated the whole stereotypical, leather couch and single chair with a wall of books behind it. I do still have that, but I want my clients to feel like this is a safe place for them to come in and be themselves. I want them to be able to talk freely, and the environment plays a role in that. That’s why I have different areas. So, any place in particular you want to sit?” He stood there explaining with his hands behind his back but gestured with one hand when asking you were to sit.

“I guess the couch is fine.” No matter where you sat down, you were still going to be nervous.

“Okay, just let me grab a few things and we will get started. Would you like some tea or water?”

“Tea please.”

He walked over to a small kitchenette, putting a kettle on to boil. He grabbed out three cups, one of which was a to go cup. You were confused for a minute. He made the tea in the disposable cup first and walked outside, you guessed he gave it to Harrison. That made you smile; he was out there for a little while. Once he came back inside, he went into another room, coming back he had a couple of things in his hands. He came over to you and handed you a notebook, he set down his notepad and pen before going to get the tea.

“Thank you.” He handed you your tea and sat down in one of the chairs.

“You’re welcome.” He gave you a smile, then picked up his notepad. “So, let’s get started, shall we? I’m not going to pressure you into telling me anything. Like I said earlier this is supposed to be a safe space for you. When you are ready you can tell me as much or as little as you want. I will be writing down notes, one of the few things that will never change when it comes to therapy.”

“Okay. I… I don’t know where to start.” Once again you started shaking, you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and calm down.

“Let me just say this. You can quickly lose yourself because you’re silent about things. Everyone thinks that their world is crumbling around them, but when you talk to someone about what you’re going through that’s when you realize that you are not alone in this.”

“Well, if that’s the case. I lost myself a long time ago.” You took in a deep breath, before letting it all out. It was time to start getting things off of your chest. “I guess that happened when I thought that jumping into a relationship was the best thing I could do. Boy, was I wrong.” You let out a small chuckle.

“Why do you say that?” His brows furrowed together, in a curious fashion and not a critical way.

“Well, back then I was trying to run from my own feelings. I have been in love with a guy that I have known forever. I didn’t want to face my feelings for him. I ended up trying to get over him by dating the wrong guy. All though I didn’t know that at the time. He was so sweet to me in the beginning, I was an idiot to think that it was real. It was one of those too good to be true situations. I knew it was, but I stayed with him. After about a year, it was like a switch flipped in his brain. I didn’t know what I did but shit hit the fan.”

You needed to take a breath before you could keep talking about this. When you told Harrison and Tom “everything” it wasn’t exactly everything. You didn’t really want to face this right now. You just wanted to get up and leave. You may have also looked towards the windows and door for an escape. Dr. Cotter could see it too.

“Y/n, you don’t have to keep going. I can see the gears turning in your head. I can see that this is making you uncomfortable to the point that you are about to bolt out the door.” He leaned closer to you to look you directly in the eyes. “Therapy isn’t a sprint that you have to get done in one day. It is going to take you a long time to deal with any issue. Even the ones you think are small, they can bring up so many emotions for you. Let me ask you this. Have you tried explaining any of this to anyone that you are close too?”

“I did, but I didn’t tell them everything. Faking a smile is so much easier than explaining why I’m sad and broken.” You looked down at your hands before moving onto something else. “Nobody knows how depressed I truly am. Or how alone I really feel. It’s so hard being your own best friend when you secretly hate yourself more and more as the time passes.” Tears had formed in your eyes; you were trying to hold them back.

“Why do you think you are broken?”

“I don’t know how to explain the reason I feel this way, I just do. I know I have so many issues and problems that I have to deal with. My brain is so messed up from the shit I have gone through. I can tell you right now that I don’t think that you can help me, I feel like I’m too far gone.” You got up and started pacing. You raked your fingers through your hair. “I just hate feeling like this, I hate that I have put myself in a position where I can say or do one wrong thing and I’m on my own. I know that the people in my life say they will be there for me no matter what, but I have a hard time believing them.”

“No one is too far gone. We just have to help you to learn see that.” He just looked up at you for a second, just searching your eyes. “Not everyone in your life is going to leave you Y/n. You have to know that.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? If I were them, I would have left me a long time ago, and not turned back. The thing is I just need one person, to never give up on me. Just one.” You stopped to look at him, holding up one finger. “With the way I was going and still kind of am going, it’s only a matter of time before they see it too.”

“I can tell you that your brother Harrison.” He pointed towards the door. “He’s not going to leave you; he’s not going to give up on you. I know I only talked to him for a short amount of time, but he cares about you so much.”

You sat back down, putting your head into your hand. You were still trying to fight back the tears but so far you were fighting a losing battle.

“Here.” You looked up to see him holding a tissue out for you. “I think that you have done enough for today. Honestly, I didn’t think that you were going to tell me anything. Well not for a few sessions anyway.”

“I just need to start letting things out. I can’t keep them bottled up anymore.”

He picked up the notebook that he had handed to you earlier. “Here’s a good place to start then.”

“What is this for?” You took the notebook from him.

“That is for you. I would like you to write at least one thing a day. It could be a page, a paragraph, a sentence, a word, you could even draw a picture if you want. I just want you to do something. Most people don’t like expressing their feeling to others in the fear of getting hurt. You don’t have to show it to me if you don’t want to, but I would like you to at least try.”

“I will, and I’m sorry I was all over the place. It all kind of came out so fast.”

“Don’t apologize, I was able to keep up with you. I can tell that there is a lot of things that you need to get out, you just don’t know how. That’s why I am here to help you, and that’s another reason I give people these notebooks.”

You just smiled at him. Then the both of you just walked to the door. When you walked out Harrison was on the phone, but as soon as he saw you, he hung up.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He saw the redness in your eyes, and instantly pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

He pulled back slightly, looking at you. You brought your hand up to wipe the few tears that had fallen out when Harrison hugged you. He took one hand off of you and waved to the Doctor, you did the same. As you walked back home, the both of you held onto the other. You needed this sense of comfort right now.

You walked in silence; you didn’t want to talk after that. You could tell Harrison had something on his mind though. Just by the way he kept looking at you. Once you finally got inside your flat you asked him about it.

“Harrison?” You leaned with your hands braced on the back of the couch.

“Yeah.” He looked over too you.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Haz, I have known you your entire life, I know all your little quirks. So, what’s going on?” You crossed your arms and just looked at him.

“While you were in with your therapist, I got a call from Tom.” He was avoiding eye contact, so it wasn’t a simple phone call.

“And?”

“He has to go to New York for a week or so to do reshoots, and he was wondering if I could go. He also doesn’t want to leave you alone. I don’t want to leave you here either.”

“Haz I will be fine without you for a week or even two. I think its time for me to start taking charge of my life again. I am doing better. Go with him to New York, I will be fine.” You gave him a smile, a fake smile but a smile none the less.

“Are you sure? I can tell him you’re not ready.” You quickly cut him off.

“Harrison, if you don’t go, I will personally kick your ass all the way to New York myself.” You pulled out your phone and dialed Tom’s number.

“What are you doing?” You held up a finger to Harrison and mouthed “I’m on the phone” before turning away.

“Hello Darling.”

“Hello Thomas.”

“Oh no, what did I do?” You could hear a hint of fear in his voice.

“You haven’t done anything, but what you are going to do is make sure Harrison gets on the plane to New York with you.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, while you waited for his response.

“Are you sure love? I can ask Harry or Sam to come with me.”

“I’m fine, plus this week will be my first week back to work. So, I won’t even be here ninety percent of the time. I don’t need a babysitter; I have gotten better. if you feel so inclined to have someone here with me, you could always bring me Tessa.” You had a real smile on your face now. You absolutely Love her.

“Alright. I will let Tessa watch over you.” You let out a squeal and did a small happy dance. “You have to promise me that you will let me know if something happens, or if you need me or Harrison to come back.”

“I promise but like I said I will be fine. I talk about Tessa all the time, everyone at the studio wants to meet her. Which means she won’t be stuck here; she will be with me all day. Plus having Tessa with me will make my week a lot brighter.”

“I know, you love her. I think she loves you more than she loves me though…” He paused for a few seconds. “Maybe its not a good idea for her to spend a week with you…”

“Thomas Stanley Holland! Don’t you dare!”

“I have no idea what you’re implying.”

“Don’t you dare dangle Tessa cuddles in front of me just to take them away.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“Umhm. When do you guys leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Oh wow, that’s so soon. Maybe you guys should just come over and stay the night here and I can take you to the airport tomorrow.”

“That sounds like a good idea. I will be over there later. I still need to pack for myself and for Tessa.”

“Okay, I will see you later.”

“See you later Darling.”

You hang up the call. You look to Harrison with a smile on your face.

“Go pack for your trip Haz.”

“Yeah yeah.” He just waved you off as he walked to his room to pack.

A few hours later, Harrison is on the couch watching tv, while you are in the kitchen making dinner. You were making a quick caprese chicken in pasta, I was one of the many meals you learned while you were in the states. One of your friends was obsessed with food and cooking, so you asked him to show you some good recipes, which he gladly did. You had pulled out three plates just in case Tom hasn’t eaten by the time he gets there. You were just about done when you heard the knock on the door.

“Harrison, will you get the door please?”

“On it.” He got up quickly and went to the door.

The next thing you hear was the little nail taps on your hardwood floors. You knew it was Tessa. Which means any second you would hear Tom next.

“Hello Love.” He said as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Well hello to you too.” You were trying to focus on finishing dinner, but Tom wouldn’t let go. “Tooom, I need you to let go. I’m trying to get this done.”

“No.” You could hear the pout in his voice. “I’m not going to be able to do this for a week, I have to do it as much as I can.”

You turned around in his arms. “I promise if you let go, I will let you be as clingy as you want. I’m almost done.”

“Ugh… Fine.” He let go of you.

You turned back a round to finish. You moved the pan off the stove and started plating the food. Tom came in to help you take the plates to the table. You grabbed two beers and a bottled water, taking them to the table. You gave the boys the beers and kept the water. You were really trying to not drink as much. So far you have been successful.

After dinner you guys decided to watch a movie. You were slightly sitting/laying in the corner with your legs up on the couch, but as promised Tom was laying down with you. His head was on your chest, his arms wrapped around you. You were playing with his hair, making him slowly start to fall asleep. Harrison was sitting on the love seat with Tessa cuddled up next to him. You couldn’t help but smile, everything was perfect.

Once the movie was over Harrison got up to go to bed. You both said goodnight, Tessa came over to you, putting her face on the couch and looked up at you. You knew it was time for her to have a potty break, but when you tried to get up Tom’s grip tightened.

“Tom, I need to get up.”

“No. Too comfortable.” He mumbled.

“Tessa needs to go out, then we can go to bed.”

“Okay.” He laid there for a few more seconds before getting up. He looks so tired.

“Tom, go lay down. I can take her out really quick.”

“Are you sure? I can come.” His eyes were still closed, while he was talking to you.

“I’m sure. Go to bed, I will be there soon.” You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before taking Tessa out.

When you came back in, you made sure Tessa had plenty of food and water out. Then the two of you made your way to your room, leaving the door open enough for her to come and go. You looked over to see that Tom had already passed out.

You looked to your desk to see the notebook for Dr. Cotter. You walked over and finally sat down to write in it, but you didn’t know what to write. You just sat there for a while staring at the blank page. When your pen finally moved, it was like as if someone else was controlling it.

I don’t know what to write in here. I know I should write my feelings but the feelings I am having right now, I know they are temporary.

I am happy that I have my brother, my boyfriend and my Tessa here. Tomorrow will be here soon to ruin it. Harrison and Tom will leave for New York. I will still have Tess, but I just feel like something is going to happen. I don’t know what it is, but I just have this pit in my stomach.

That’s just my life at this point though. The feeling of something is going to happen, just not knowing when. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world, but I don’t know how to stop it. That scares me so much.

You got up closing the notebook and turning to your bed. Tessa had already made herself at home on it, walking over you gave her a few head scratches. You got in and moved close to Tom, you gave him a kiss on the forehead. His arms instantly tried to find your waist, pulling you as close as he possibly could, eventually you were laying on his chest. You don’t know how long it took you to fall asleep, but the sound of Tom’s heartbeat was lulling you to sleep.

Series Tags: Open

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helenazbmrskai · 4 years

Text

title ‹ Christmas bribery ›

pairing ‹ soldier!seokjin x oc ›

genre ‹ Christmas/holiday au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst but barely there ›

summary ‹ This is the first time you can’t go home and celebrate Christmas with your family so your mom makes sure you don’t spend the holidays alone happy to learn that Seokjin, your mother’s best friend’s son is taking his annual leave near the 22nd of December from Military services. This story is about the biggest Christmas bribery of the century. ›

warnings ‹ swear words here and there, bad puns? ›

word count ‹ 6.2k ›

notes. I’m here to deliver a light read to set the mood for the holidays and I hope all of you will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed the process of writing it. In this Christmas collab, I had the chance to meet with these amazing people so I’m sharing this story as a gift and as a thank you!

this is part of the Christmas fic collab that was suggested by @kooala please check out the masterpost and enjoy every story we share!

”You did what?!” I feel dizzy due to the sudden movement of my body jerking up in a sitting position, crisscrossing my legs under me as my hand holds up the phone to my right ear a little bit more pressingly after hearing the breaking news. That she tells me with a singing tone sounding so excited but I can’t seem to share her sentiments as the bewilderment decorating my voice is in sharp contrast with the silence that settled on the cosy apartment like a thick feather-filled duvet. Nibbling on my thin lips I locate the single gingerbread scented candle on my desk still illuminating the interior of my messy bedroom the flames licking up the walls and disappearing near the ceiling, creating pretty shapes and lights over the dull paint, it helps me regain my composure before I realise that mom is not yet finished talking.

”Well he needed a place to stay and busses won’t go out because of the upcoming storm his apartment is in Daegu and I’m sure he’ll be tired from the flight.” Flicking on the lights I take in the sight, clothes piled up on the chair’s armrest whilst dirty plates littering every usable surface, fuck, if my room looks like a pigsty I don’t want to imagine how the other rooms are looking right now.

I was so immersed in doing great on my finals that I don’t think I cleaned the space up for a while.

I should start doing my laundry so I have something to wear as I already look to be out of clean t-shirts inspecting the pile of unwashed jeans and other garments, momentarily embarrassed to see I’m also out of room to place new dirty clothes on top of all these.

”What are you implying mother?” Pursing my lips, I honestly start to lose her train of thoughts as her rant goes on and my eyes wander over the state my apartment is in after stressful weeks but knowing her ways she’ll start with building on my conscience until she realises that I’m no longer an unsuspecting five-year-old girl and she’ll pull out the big guns and dust off her bribing skills.

Whatever her plan is, she always makes me go accordingly no matter how much I try to resist or protest and I feel a knot form in my throat at that. If this is about my non-existent dating life again that she called me to discuss in the dread of the night, I swear I’m gonna flip a table or something.

”You remember Sunha’s eldest son?” Answering back with a question as she often likes to do, doesn’t throw me off balance as it used to.

I’m long ago accustomed to getting her ways to twist the conversation to her favour so I’m ready to fire back my reply in the same form matching her up. ”How is your best friend’s son has to do with any of this?” Utterly confused by the mention, that must lace my tone since she lets a lightsome laugh bubble up in her chest I can picture her dimples are showing in full display because of it.

”Did you even pay attention to a word I said?” She sounds more amused than accusing, letting me know that she actually doesn’t mind how my head gets airy sometimes, her playfulness earns a groan from my side of the line, it’s getting pretty late and I have not enough brain cells left for her mind games.

”Spit it out, mom. You know I love you but I had a rough week so spare me of your wicked schemes.” I breathe out the words orbs closing involuntarily as I rest my head against the door frame. Where was I going anyway?

Maybe I should go for a hot chocolate before bed.

It’ll be weird not seeing my family for the holidays but I don’t want my mom to worry about me so I made sure to be extra cheerful all the time when she called only ignored her attempts of reaching me like one or two times as I had to study for two last exams and now that I can finally relax the exhaustion seems to catch up to me. I’m fine being on my own, making food and seasonal sweets while I watch tv without any interruptions, sounds like an excellent plan for Christmas, not caring how loud my music is or how bad my singing voice is under the shower.

No family means sweet alone time awaits, no one will tell me to go to sleep and I didn’t need to worry what kind of a present I should purchase at least for a little while.

”Do you remember Seokjin or not Y/N? This conversation will last longer if you don’t cooperate with me.” I can practically see her eye roll directed at me in front of my eyes despite she’s twenty miles away from here, wishful thinking on my part that she’ll let this conversation go if I ask her to stop beating around the bush.

”I don’t know. Maybe?” A fragment of my memory is triggered by hearing his name, and a scenario appears out of nowhere that was a few years ago in Sunha’s second marriage ceremony as I stand in a pastel lavender dress.

Mother was otherworldly happy for Sunha that day she dragged me with her as she chatted away mixing with the guests until we settled down to our table - when the cake cutting took place - that consisted of the bride and groom themselves and close family members like Sunha’s sons and his significant other’s daughter and, of course, my mother and I was present too.

I remember sitting down and just looking ahead aimlessly when I locked gazes with a handsome man his posture was immaculate and he seemed happy for his mother but couldn’t hide how restlessly he fidgetted in his seat, his eyes couldn’t settle watching only one thing, he even looked skittish as he jumped in his seat when the girl sitting on his left tried to catch his attention. Our eye contact lasted less than five seconds and his presence remained for thirty minutes at most as he apologised to her mother and everyone at the table since he had some urgent affairs to attend to.

I probably looked shocked for the reason that mom whispered the words into my ear when he left so suddenly to make sense of things. ”That’s Jin, her eldest son he serves in the army he probably couldn’t get a full day off because of his duties.” After humming in an understanding gesture I fixed my gaze onto the cake slice in front of me.

I remember that man clearly but with purpose, I don’t elaborate further than that, so she doesn’t have the compromitting piece of information to latch onto and make it a bigger issue. She would be elated to know I do remember Kim Seokjin, well, he’s hard to forget in the first place, he smiled only once as his mother hugged him at the table and even if it lasted for less than a second the expression was captivating. Howbeit if she tells me that she organised a date with him I’m going to slam my head to the closest hard surface I can tell. He’s so out of league and dating someone with such a dangerous profession at that, it’s not going to work, doesn’t matter how much I find him attractive and charming.

”It doesn’t matter I guess. You two could get to know each other eventually as he’ll stay at your apartment.” She drops the bomb before disconnecting the call, she doesn’t even wait for my protests this time around. A groan leaves my lips while I look around the house promptly throwing my phone to land on my bed in the means of letting out some of my frustration. I need to get going and make this house presentable again, that hot chocolate needs to wait I guess.

from: unknown number

[7.22 AM] Hi it’s Seokjin. My plane will take off at 9ish can you send me your address?

Grabbing my phone from the kitchen counter I open the message from the unknown number the device almost slips through my fingertips as I rake my eyes over the content hesitant about how to reply I turn to my friend who so generously offered her help to tidy up my living space a little before my unrequested guest arrives. With a broom in her hand, she looks back at my weird facial expression.

”What is it? It’s him?” Gaun asks abandoning her cleaning tools to read the message as well peaking over my shoulder in order to do that. ”He sounds so uptight even in text. Brr.” She shakes her shoulders in simple displeasure that earns an eye roll from me, it’s not that he’ll send hearts when our encounter was years ago for like five seconds. Honestly, I’m surprised that mom and Sunha were able to talk him into this in the first place.

”He’s a soldier Gaun and on the contrary, we don’t know each other he has no reason to be friendly.” Gnawing on my lower lip I click on the message to reply, typing a few lines before I deleted it and rewrote it before hitting send.

[7.34 AM] Hey of course. Call me if you don’t find your way.

[7.34 AM] *google map link attached*

from: Seokjin

[7.35 AM] I will thank you

”Let’s hurry up we don’t have that much time.” I place the phone back on the counter resuming my cleaning and Gaun starts to swipe the floor where she left off all the while I can hear the washing machine work in the distance.

I could feel my heartbeat in the pit of my stomach when the doorbell finally rang and at the other side of the door, there’s Kim Seokjin in all of his glory, that handsome soldier I got a sneak peek at his mother’s wedding wearing a formal suit and tie combo that he pulled of so nicely. I wipe my hands with a towel leaving the leftover plates in the sink as I rush to open the door for him.

”Hi.” I greet him with a friendly smile plastered on my face, I have to tilt my chin upwards to meet his eyes, he’s even taller than I remembered and he’s wearing his military uniform. My hold on the doorknob tightens how unfairly handsome he is with his hair parted in both sides leaving his forehead uncovered his uniform is well fitted and compliments the curves of his waist and thighs the cherry on top is his platform jet black boots that matches with the colour of his hair that I love so much.

A well trained German Sheppard sits near his foot with his tongue out as soon as I crouch down to pet him so focused on the animal that I almost don’t catch Seokjin’s timid ’hello’ in return, the dog’s tail starts to wag furiously seeing my face at his eye level he throws me off balance as he marches forward for more pets.

”I’m sorry he’s not normally like this.” The handsome boy offers a hand to help me up with a sheepish look, I accept the extended hand with a faint blush ignoring the pain that shoots up to my ass because of the impact with the floor. His hand is bigger than mine as it gets fully enveloped in his warm ones.

”Mom didn’t tell me you have a dog,” I chuckle lightly as I pet the dog’s head one last time unsure what to do with my hand that he no longer holds. ”I mean, she didn’t tell me much just told me you’ll come today.” His unique laugh sounded nice ringing in my ears, it made me smile up at him as he playfully shook his head. It’s weird how relaxed I feel around his presence when I was shaking with nerves just moments prior, and I’m still not entirely comfortable with him but his whole aura has a calming effect on my body. I don’t think I’ve ever met with someone that makes me feel so at ease when it’s basically our first meeting.

”Yeah, well, I think we both got played by our mothers.” I have to agree on that one with him. Realising that we’re still standing in front of my entrance I beckon him to come inside stepping out of the way so he could easily slide his luggage beside him his dog’s paws leave imprints on the clean floor but I don’t mind it as he looks so excited about everything inside sniffing and exploring while Jin tries to make him behave scratching his neck when his dog doesn’t seem to listen to a single word.

”Sorry he’s making a mess.” Seokjin apologises seeing the muddy paw marks after connecting our eyes for a few seconds he follows the steps into the kitchen. ”No Cookie that’s not food for you.” The young soldier immediately runs after his companion when he tries to steal the cinnamon rolls from the kitchen counter and I can’t help but laugh at the sight as he scolds the dog.

This is going to be an interesting holiday season I can already tell.

”I can’t believe this fucking jar.” I contemplate to smash it against the counter after spouting several curse words when a hand landed on mine directly on the jar’s lid, I feel Cookie’s fur brush against my exposed leg having enough evidence to know who’s this arm belongs to and I turn around in a moment of weakness. Jin’s hair rests on the top of his head in a messy style sweat dampening the ends.

”Need some help?” His eyes hold a childlike glow in them as he brushes his fingers against mine replacing my digits with his and the lid pops easily in his hands.

I can’t say this display of physical strength doesn’t make him even more attractive in my eyes I barely pay attention to the fact that he stands so close I can feel his chest meet mine as we breathe handing back the opened strawberry jam.

”Thanks.” I hastily turn to avoid his gaze even though that doesn’t offer much advantage as he leans closer pushing his chest against the line of my back watching as my hands spread the jam over the walnut biscuits.

”Want a taste?” Feeling bolder than usual I face him again holding up a finished treat to his mouth, Jin makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat but parts his lips obediently letting me slip the food between his teeth.

”I’ll leave as a stuffed chicken if you keep feeding me these delicious treats.” Despite the indication, he doesn’t seem against the food I offer as he tries to steal one more from the plate but I pull his hand away curling my fingers around his wrist.

”Let me finish before you devour my hard work you pig.” I roll my eyes watching his childlike antics, he seems to take pleasure in riling me up from time to time. It’s been two days since he and his companion Cookie arrived and things just worked out smoothly Jin is a nice person with horrendous jokes but he does help out a lot around the apartment he even fixed my broken ladder so we can decorate the Christmas tree that he insisted we need to purchase when I told him I was not going to go all out and celebrate this year. After all, I was supposed to be here on my own.

He’s so used to training at headquarters that he leaves every morning to run for an hour before he comes back all sweaty and satisfied finding me eating my breakfast or drinking my coffee it doesn’t matter what’s in my hands he always needs to get the last bites from it. He’s really not good for my heart.

”Since you’re doing the sweets how about I make us lunch today?” Jin asks excitedly resting his head on top of mine gently careful not to put too much weight on me, my heart speeds up at the sweet gesture not trusting my words so I nod instead. One of these days I can’t wrap my head around his intentions, he looks so nonchalant as he does things like resting his head on me or patting my knee when we watch tv together with Cookie curled around us on the couch.

”I can’t work like this.” I use the excuse to separate our bodies, is it just me or the kitchen is getting hotter by every passing second, or it’s just my cheeks heating up due to his body moulding perfectly with mine. It doesn’t help either that I remember he’s sweaty under his shirt after his daily exercise smelling nice when he probably shouldn’t have. I busy my hands to glue the biscuits together with the jam moving slightly to the side a little further from Jin’s warm body, he doesn’t say anything else as he decides to leave the kitchen Cookie stays for the sake of finishing his meal before going on a quest to find his owner leaving me behind with my thoughts.

I wrap things up quickly after that, placing the treats in the middle so Cookie can’t reach it and clean up the jam stains before retreating to my room.

It’s a pleasant surprise to check my phone and see that my mom tried to reach me an hour ago, she’s up uncharacteristically early. Too curious to find out what she wants I dial her number without a second thought, it’s been three days that she called and that time she told me Jin will stay at my place until he has to go back to the army. Whenever I think about that a frown seems to climb its way up to my expression I got used to seeing him around the house that I tend to forget he won’t be around when the new year comes and it’s scary to think about how attached I feel to him or rather how lonely I’ll feel once this is all over. He’s a busy man in general and serving under the Military’s name means he can’t be here when I need him, it would be as painful in the long run as a long-distance relationship would be. Not that I assume he’s interested in me that way.

”Hey mom sorry I didn’t hear your call. Is everything alright?” I press my phone to my left ear, closing the door behind with the help of my foot before sitting down at the edge of my bed. Seokjin’s low hum and the sound of pots and pans indicate that he started soon after I left the kitchen, it’s early to start lunch already but Jin is always restless like that.

He needs to find things to do or fix because he gets bored easily, he told me that when I picked up on his punctuality that he always has to move like a clockwork at the base he developed a habit of making use of himself and he needs to constantly do things to keep his restless energy at bay so he can sleep well at night.

He wakes up exactly at six in the morning every day even without setting up his alarm. I think it’s endearing when he thumps his foot absentmindedly even if he’s watching a movie he’s interested in, legs spread wide in a comfortable position on the sofa, his body just never relaxes completely.

”Yes dear I called early to say Merry Christmas to my baby!” I giggle in response hearing her excitement conveyed through her voice. ”I hope you enjoy your Christmas present.” Her tone turned suggestive and my laughter died down, heat rose to my cheeks and my thoughts spiralled to Seokjin’s direction.

”What’s that supposed to mean?” I glance at the door listening for the noises to make sure Jin can’t hear my flustered tone, he’s still in the kitchen and that helps me relax a little until my mom’s knowing hum filled the silence in the conversation.

”Are you getting on well with Jin right? He’s a real sweetheart so treat him nice ok?” Can’t help but all the more agree with her, he’s very considerate and funny, I think he’s the one who’s treating me nice even though I supposed to be the host, he helps out a lot and good company to be around. He sometimes misplaces my things like moving plates to a higher shelf when he knows I can’t reach it there without his help and he cracks terrible jokes that I secretly like very much and Cookie is the apple of my eye already, I think he listens to me more than he listens to Jin at this point (there might be a tiny connection that I often give him special treats during his owner's absence) and I found it hilarious as he sulks on the couch calling his dog a ’traitor’ when he decides to rest his head on my lap instead of Seokjin’s.

Little things like that make me like Seokjin more and more with each passing day.

”I’m treating him just fine mom he said he gained weight since his arrival blaming it on me, don’t worry and enjoy the holidays with dad, after all, it’s the first time that you two could celebrate with just him after so long.”

”Will do darling. I hope you’ll have a wonderful time as well I know that finals were stressing you out so I hope that you are able to relax now.” We deemed the conversation finished after wishing each other happy holidays again and for once I feel like I can mean my words as I feel relaxed around a certain someone.

”Want to place the star on top?” Jin shoved the decoration piece in front of my face whilst I placed food on the coffee table to feast upon as we watch classic Christmas movies until we can’t keep our eyes open since it’s the first day of Christmas.

”I’m not stepping on that ladder you fixed, it looks like a death trap.” Eyeing all the nails and patches on the poor thing.

”If it can hold my weight so can yours.” Jin states the facts, placing the star into my opened palm with a mischievous grin. ”I’ll hold you so don’t be a baby and decorate with me, it’s not as fun doing it alone.” That pout, dangerous and he knows that I can’t possibly say no to that when he asks me so nicely with that adorable full lips of his.

”If I fall I’m dragging you with me, just saying.” I keep our eye contact to get my point across with a meaningless glare, the corners of my lips twitch to morph into a smile hearing his happy chuckles using that moment to turn to the ladder taking the first step up the stair the scent of Jin’s aftershave hit my sensitive nose feeling his hands curve around my hip squeezing my sides to reassure me he’s here to catch me. I can blame my wobbly legs because of the shaky ladder or on my fear of high places but I can’t fool myself that the delicate shake that overpowers my body is because of the excitement I feel as I daydream about his hands on different parts of my body. It feels nice to be held by him.

”Hold on for deer life then.” A fond smile appears on my face hearing him laugh on the pun he just told me, forget my inner turmoil in the meantime placing the star to add the last piece before we declare it’s complete.

I almost can’t mask the look of disappointment I feel when he lets me go once my feet are planted on the ground the star placed on top.

”Told you it’s safe. I’m here to keep you in one piece, sugar.” His hand landing on the top of my head, caressing my hair for the time length of two outdrawn strokes before he lets his fingers fall beside his body to prop around his hips observing the tree with so much excitement that he failed to see my blush due to the pet name that probably just slipped out without any meaning behind it.

”No Cookie it’s not yours love.” I catch him before he can bite a big chunk out of our late night dinner as we’re not paying attention, it created an opportunity for him that he would’ve been foolish to disregard.

”Cheeky pretty thing just like his owner, huh?” It slips out as I pet Cookie’s head kneading the soft short furs around his ears that he knocks our heads together in beaming excitement because of the affection.

”Cookie really likes you Y/N.” The affectionate gaze he looks at me with knocks the air out of my lungs, it sounded like for a split second that he means he likes me too. Wishful thinking I remind myself before looking away clearing my throat to get things started plopping down onto the couch with a big huff leaving my lips.

”I’m starving, get your fat ass over here so we can watch Grinch.” I beam at him acting like his previous comment doesn’t hit hard as I pull my plate closer taking a bite out of the grilled chicken.

”How rude-olf of you!” He fakes his crocodile tears but as his ass hits the fluffy blanket nearly ripping my hot cocoa out of my hands it doesn’t seem like he’s feeling an ounce of hurt over my words. It’s silent for a while as we bash under the Christmas lights our faces illuminated by the tv munching on our food and sweets laid out before us Cookie resting on the rug near our feet.

”It’s been a while since I had such a nice Christmas.” Jin sighs burrowing his face onto my shoulder I can feel his breath fan over my skin the movie is long forgotten as I let his words sink in. Tired to fight the urge I tilt my head to rest it against his the moment appears to be too intimate for strangers let alone friends. ”You smell nice too.” I feel his nose around my neckline turning further into me as he inhales the scent of my hair, maybe it’s because it’s getting late but I let the feelings wash over me.

”Did you drink from my mother’s ’secret Santa’ labelled punch or something? I told you she’s a witch when it comes to alcoholic beverages.” I laugh lightheartedly and Jin follows suit hitting my left thigh when his laugh makes me laugh harder that results in my stomach twisting in pain from all the giggling even so as he starts to tickle me to take his revenge. He manhandles me with ease as he pins my wrists with one hand over my head ticking my torso with the other straddling my hip so he can restrict my squirming under him.

”You’re stronger! That’s not fair Jin.” I whine under his crushing weight, cheeks flushed from the exercise and his close proximity an innocent smile lits up his entire face as he regards me under his form, the Christmas lights are illuminated in his dark orbs creating a pretty image of him. Hair sticking to every questionable direction full lips stretched to house his angelic smile warm radiating from his body so close to mine.

I wish this moment could last forever.

”What are you thinking about?” Tilting his head in question he looks into my eyes with a fierce expression, I gulp not knowing to say the truth or come up with something on the spot. I decided it’s time for the truth.

”That I..” My sentence gets interrupted by Cookie’s barking I haven’t realised that he around the time we were occupied left his spot and watched us with curious eyes. He licked both of our faces as soon as he had the attention and Jin got up from the couch to pet him as Cookie nudged him with his nose to show him his empty bowl.

Maybe it’s a sign that I shouldn’t. Right. What was I thinking? Seokjin is never home he serves the country all the time, married to his work to the extent that he has no time left for himself, he doesn’t have the capacity to form a serious relationship with me and he’s probably not looking for love either.

It’s for the best that we separate after the new year.

I formed a plan after almost confessing my love for him to avoid any other scenarios like this in the future, to be honest, I hated it but there’s no other way for me to get over him quickly even if my heart told me I should enjoy my little time left with him I choose to ignore his attempts at spending quality time with me.

If he asked for a movie night I told him I was busy or tired I took my meals to my room telling him that I need to pick up my studying schedule for the next semester, I had the most ridiculous reasons and I’m sure he figured me out after the second time I dismissed our plans and I can’t say seeing him hurt over my words and futile attempts at lying doesn’t felt like I was stabbed with a dozen knives into my heart.

I should have stopped myself before I got too deep because now I’m hurting both of us even if he’s only mourning for a lost friend.

A scratching noise interrupted the flow of my thoughts I tiptoe all the way to the door looking around before my eyes land on a restless Cookie. He reminds me so much of his owner but he normally stays with Jin I wonder what is he doing here scratching on my door. Is he out perhaps?

”What’s wrong? You seem sad.” I crouch to his level so I can caress his fur and his tail begin to wag instantly when I pull back Cookie grabs my sleeve with his teeth careful not to hurt me before he pulls me out of my room. I try to regain my footing but he pulls me harder until my door shuts behind my back.

”Cookie. What’s up with you suddenly?” I ask him even if I know there’s no reply to wait for I observe his body language before realisation lit up in my round orbs. ”You want me to follow you somewhere sweetheart?” Hearing that he let go suddenly making me lose my balance and collide with the floor cushioning the hit with my butt just like the first time I met him when he nearly run me over with excitement. He tumps his foot as he walks away hardly leaving enough time to catch up to him. He sits down in front of Seokjin’s door, or precisely the guest room he occupies for a short period I remind myself. My eyes soften after noticing it’s his way of showing that he doesn’t want us to part in bad terms. He’s smart.

I take in a deep breath mulling over if I should talk to Jin but looking at Cookie’s hopeful eyes I can’t possibly turn around and ignore this anymore. Jin deserves a better explanation than just accepting the fact one day I ghosted him.

I raise my hand to knock on his door when I hear his voice, he’s talking to someone over the phone since I didn’t hear the front door opening or closing that would mean we have a guest and I don’t think he would invite someone here without discussing it with me, no matter if we are in speaking terms or not.

”I don’t know what happened. I thought we are good but then the next day she didn’t want to do anything with me. I’m confused.” Is he talking about me? To whom? I know eavesdropping is bad but I can’t make my body pull away from the door as I listen intently. I don’t hear what the person from the other side says only Jin’s answers that I’m able to make out as I press my ear to the smooth surface.

”Of course I tried talking to her mom! What if I said or did something that made her hate me? I don’t want to leave like this, we had so much fun. I don’t want it to end this way.” Jin groaned frustratedly while listening to his mom, hearing his voice so worried and tense talking to his loved one about me that knows me very well, I feel ten times worse for ignoring him without giving him an honest explanation.

”I like her mom, but maybe it’s already too late.”

Retreating to my room in sheer panic when he cuts the line to afraid to be caught to rationalise the words I overheard. He likes me too.

All this time I thought that my feelings are not reciprocated whilst in reality I’m just a big coward, I hid behind the fabricated words that his profession is something that doesn’t sit well with me and he has no time to have a girlfriend, but I never tried asking what he wanted. If he wanted to give us a chance or not.

These thoughts plagued my mind until I fall asleep that night, however, tomorrow will be something different.

”Good morning.” I greet Seokjin as he walks out with only his sweatpants on eyes puffy from sleep, he’s so startled by my voice that he jumps at least five centimetres above the ground and the chuckle I let out witnessing his fright confuses him more.

”Uh, good morning.” He replies, at last, passing my form to pull out a mug probably for his morning coffee but I have his fill in my hand while mine is placed on the counter next to my hip. ”The ghost of Christmas visited you last night or something?” Jin watches my form suspiciously but accepting the steaming cup of coffee with a soft ’thanks’ rolling off of his tongue.

”Something like that. Can we talk?” I meet his gaze shyly picking up on my nervous habit as I nibble on my lower lip his eyes soften up.

”Yeah, let’s sit.” He prompts and I nod following his figure to the dining table where we sit on the opposite sides of it. We drink our beverages in peace for a few minutes before I lick my lips nervously opening my mouth to talk.

”I like having you here Jin. This Christmas with you was wonderful even your bad puns are surprisingly funny.” The man in front of me giggles at that, hearing that I had fun with him dismissed some of his insecurities and he looks more relaxed sitting before me sipping on his drink occasionally, waiting.

”I’m sorry for ignoring you it was very childish of me and you deserve an explanation. If I’m being honest you scare me.” His eyebrows shoot up at the mention and I’m eager to make things clear. I don’t want him to take my words literally. ”Or maybe it’s me. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I like you a lot. It scares me because you’re a soldier and you’re never home and I would be so worried wondering about if you are safe.”

”Even if I say all of that I couldn’t make myself to unlike you because you’re funny bad pun or not, caring and affectionate and too good for this world...I just really like you.”

Shying away from his intense stare I choose to observe the rim of my mug watching the dark liquid swirl in my cup when a finger tapped on my chin to look up. The brightest smile adorned Jin’s face that is so close our noses almost touch.

”I normally hate to say that our moms were right all along but right now I’m just glad that they made us spend this Christmas together.” Seokjin’s forehead knocks against mine as we laugh, nodding subtly to avoid more damage as my smile spreads wider I notice how Jin’s eye keeps looking between my eyes and lips and I can’t wait for him to finally reduce the short distance closing my eyes to fully appreciate his finger caressing my jaw, cupping my face letting our breaths entangle for a short second before I get to taste the coffee on his lips.

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lovelywingsart · 3 years

Text

Turning Cogs

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/Her) --

Remember 'Apologies'? Well, this is more or less a type of 'follow-up'! Over 20 years later. I may also make a small timeline, or an explanation post about it, but anyway-

This was also a cute fun one, and my favorite right next to 'Chase'. I just... I love cute things for them... I need more cute things for them. It makes me feel a little better.

Please, please don't hate me for what's coming next. (That is, IF I choose to post it immediately after this... I may wait a bit until another story or two is up...)

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3 **

-----

*Warning?: Cute sappy shit, read at your own risk eue

Summary: A 'task' given years ago leads to a small solution near the end of the line. Emmy has a gift! But what is it? What significance will it hold? Alot more than she thinks, that's for sure!

The factory ran smoothly, production went on as usual, and the hope of freedom permeated the air as the date of the 'revolution' drew near. A few days... It was only a few days. Supposedly, at least. Emelia found herself simply wandering the factory at times, much like Heisenberg himself. Sure, she worked, but it often helped ease her mind of the now constant nervous jitters she found herself experiencing. But she now currently walked with a purpose, making her way to the notorious metal man with an eager hop in her step.

As she wandered the halls, she mused to herself how great all of this had become. The factory, the creations, even the small 'bond' she shared with the man who ran it all. It wasn't much of one, she thought, but recently it had become almost... like a dream. Like an odd, welcoming dream after their talk some weeks ago. He tried... He actually did try, she noticed. After so many years, she had come know the man very well, and the small changes he had made in just a few weeks time were highly evident. She enjoyed them... Thoroughly, at that. He didn't even change himself, and it wasn't a forced change. It was... Natural.

As if the changes were being held back for years.

She found herself smiling more with him. Smiling and genuinely enjoying herself, even laughing at times when they were alone. Even the mechanical menaces didn't prove to be much of an issue lately... Even as she wandered past, the creatures simply ignored her. Sure, she was still somewhat worried about the upcoming events, but she found it easier to keep her mind off of them and relax when he was around. It was wonderful, really.

She made her way to the upper levels after a while with just the smallest bit of excitement. A small jingling in her pocket could be heard as she jogged to the elevator that boosted that feeling, and she couldn't help but smile again. She knew what the sound was... She had been thinking about the small items for years. Literal years. She kept them with her at times ever since he had given her the task well over 20 years ago, and they hadn't left her mind since. Only recently had she finally had an idea for them, and while she had initially considered it a little dumb, it was the only thing she could think of. She just hoped he would agree.

She stepped off the elevator as it creaked to a stop, making her way through more doors and halls until she finally made it to a gold and copper encased door with the 'family' crest in the middle. She paused before opening the door, running her hand along the impression of the stallion that adorned the crest. She had to admit, she had grown fond of it over the years... Knowing that it was coming to a glorious 'end' only filled her with more eagerness as she pressed her palm to the horses nose and opened the door. She was met with an echoing, deep hum of a quiet song. It was one that she recognized, and she couldn't help but join the hum as she rounded the corner. The other hum paused for only a moment, followed by a light chuckle before it continued, now with quiet words.

As she finally reached the personal workshop, she was met with Heisenberg slightly hunched over his work table, a pencil in his hands and small metal objects 'dancing' around him lazily as he sung their tune. Despite the small scraps, he was relatively calm, tilting his head as she approached. His singing only stopped with a chuckle as she casually wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her face to the back of his neck. It was a common gesture going both ways, and she felt a scarred hand reached to hold her arm.

"Hello there." He mused, turning his head slightly.

"Why did you stop singing?" Emelia asked, being met with a chuckle.

"Because you're in the room now."

"Would you like me to leave then?"

"No, I think prefer you right here." Heisenberg chuckled, finally turning in her arms to face her. He simply leaned back against the table, wrapping one arm around her waist while using the other to direct the scraps to float around them. "Is there something you needed?"

She watched the scraps flutter as if they were moths, tilting her head slightly.

"I came to tell you something. Or... 'give', rather." She said simply, her eye moving to meet his as she leaned against him. He raised a brow in interest.

"Oh?" He said, pausing his hand movements for a moment. "And what could you possibly have to give me?"

She couldn't help but give a small smile, carefully taking a step back, careful not to hit one of the scraps.

"Do you remember that... 'task' years ago? With the defect cogs?"

He watched her for a moment, light confusion entering his features. The cogs... Cogs?? Wait, those cogs??? She couldn't have POSSIBLY meant THOSE cogs. He vaguely remembered the situation, and his nose scrunched.

"Emmy, that was... That was how long ago??" He said, crossing his arms slightly.

"A few years..."

"A few??"

"Ok, more than a few. But that's besides the point." She shook her head reaching into her pocket almost hesitantly. "I believe I found something for them..."

Heisenbergs brows raised in legitimate surprise.

"You what???" He asked, slowly lowering the scraps to the floor as Emelia took hold of something In her pocket. He shook his head. "There... You couldn't have. That task was a joke. A test to see what you would do under stress."

"Well, I didn't take it as one." She shrugged. "You're a sneaky twit, Heisenberg. I wasn't going to let an obvious trick sway me."

"It seemed to 'sway' you back then." He smirked lightly, nearly laughing at the sudden redness that entered her cheeks as vivid memories played in her mind. She rolled her eye and pulled her hand out, her fist curled around something.

"'Tricks' aside, I never stopped thinking about it, and I've finally thought of something." She said, ignoring the knowing chuckle he gave. She cleared her throat slightly, looking at her hand. "Just... promise you won't laugh."

"Why would I ever laugh at you, Emelia?" He mused, only to chuckle again and hold up his arms as she glared at him. "Alright, alright, I'm done. What did you think of?"

"Well..." she started, taking a breath. "I was looking at them, and the holes went all the way through to the other sides, and had some other small ones. They were pretty useless for most things I could come up with, but..."

She opened her hand, letting something fall and clink together- hanging from her fingers were the cogs, each carefully welded to three smaller cogs and wrapped with thin, copper wire, with a thick, black string through the main defective holes. Each main cog held a small bit of red stone in the middle, adding a small bit of color to the otherwise metallic items. She brought them slightly closer to her chest, a deeper blush forming on her face as she watched Heisenbergs eyes widen with simultaneous surprise and interest. Emelia cleared her throat slightly.

"I, um... I'm not the best or most creative, I suppose... and I had the string Donna gifted me, with some of the glass pieces from the Reservoir... I found the wire pieces around here..." she managed, looking at the small necklaces. "It's... It's not much..."

She fell silent for a moment, looking up at the man in front of her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face held a strange mixture of emotion as he held out a hand, beckoning her forward. She held out the hand with the necklaces as she moved, swallowing hard as his fingers gingerly went behind one of the pieces and brought it forward to inspect it.

"... You actually made these?" He asked. She nodded.

"Just some minor welding and scrap melts for the smaller ones..." she replied quietly, watching as his eyes seemed to inspect every small detail. She then frowned slightly. "I... I-I'm sorry, it's... They're stupid-"

"No, no... Not stupid..." he said quietly, now holding both. Each of the smaller cogs were made of different mixed materials, providing an interesting effect once they hit the light. "They're... Impressive."

She perked up slightly.

"Really...?"

He nodded.

"Why are there two?" He asked, glancing up at her with interest. She worked her jaw slightly.

"I... I thought maybe... um..." she tried, avoiding his gaze. "I thought... perhaps... we could each have one... maybe?" She managed, her voice quiet.

There was silence for a few moments, and she could feel his gaze as he fully looked at her. It wasn't until he chuckled that she looked at him, surprised to see a grin on his face.

"Brilliant idea, Emmy." He said, trailing one of the strings up to where her hand held them to carefully remove one from her grip. She stared at him.

"... Really?"

"Sure!" He chuckled, bringing the one he held close to his face to look over it once more. "May I ask what the inspiration was?"

"I... didn't really have one..." she replied, only to go rigid as he reached forward and took hold of her arm to pull her closer.

"Hm." He gave a hum, looking at her once more. "I'd say your pretty creative, Emmy, not even I could think of this."

"It only took me 20 years..." she managed to joke, tilting her head as he held the string open on the necklace he held. "What are you doing-"

She stopped as he reached forward, her face heating up as he simply rested the necklace around her own neck. She looked down as his hands traced the string, caressing the small gears before resting it against her chest.

"I think it suits you." Heisenberg chuckled, holding his hands to the side as if he had achieved something grand with slipping it on. Emelia couldn't help but give a light snort, keeping her eye on it.

"I suppose so..." she replied simply, her eye moving to the one she still held. She was quiet for a moment before taking a breath, doing the same with the second necklace.

She turned it and held it up to his head, opening the string. He was still as she managed to slip it around his own neck, nearly chuckling with amusement as she watched it rest against the necklaces he already wore. She took her hands away, tilting her head as she looked at it. It didn't look TOO odd against the other items...

"Suits you, too..." she said quietly, her hands resting along his chest. He nearly laughed.

"Well congratulations, your task is complete. I'll be damned." He snorted, finally setting his hands on her hips. "Good work."

"You're just saying that..." she chuckled, looking up at him. He shrugged.

"I mean it." He suddenly gave a genuine smile. One she could see in his eyes, and it made her breath catch in her throat. "Thank you, Emelia."

She couldn't help but return the smile, slowly wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. He returned the action, his arms surrounding her waist as he pressed his face to her shoulder.

"You're an odd one, Emmy." He nearly whispered.

She could feel his smile against her skin as she chuckled, resting her chin on his own shoulder.

"So are you, Heisenberg." She replied. "You're the oddest one of them all."

"Ah, I beg to differ." He chuckled, using his hand to raise the small scraps from before into the air again, twirling his finger slightly to make them circle the two slowly. Emelia kept her smile, turning her head to bury her face into his neck.

"Beg then, Metalhead."

"Hm." He hummed, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck. "I think I will."

She lifted her head to question, only to let out a surprised yelp as he suddenly hoisted her over his shoulder.

"Karl!!!"

"Aht aht, no fighting!" He chimed, amused as she started to squirm before he began walking to the side door of the workshop. She only stopped squirming momentarily with a surprised laugh as he pinched her side.

"The bloody hell are you doing?!" She tried, unable to hide her own amusement as he kicked open the door and went down the small hall leading to the 'living quarters'.

"Guess this really does make you the 'lady' of the factory then, yeah?" He joked. She squirmed again, earning another pinch.

"Call- HEY- C-Call me a 'lady' again and see what happens...!!" She laughed, only to nearly stumble back as he suddenly heaved her down, holding into him to keep her balance. She was met with a quick kiss, keeping the smile on her face.

"Fine then, the 'wench' of the factory." He joked, letting out his own laugh as she smacked his shoulder.

"That's even worse you twit!"

"Ah, no need for that, Emmy!"

He nudged her forward, giving another quick kiss before she nearly fell over as the edge of the bed hit the back of her legs.

"Are you mad?!" She laughed, nearly falling back as he nudged her again. Instead she just flopped back, holding out her arms for him as he crawled over her with a chuckle.

"I was planning on taking a break anyway." He replied simply before falling to his side next to her. She chuckled as his arms suddenly went around her, bringing her tightly to his chest.

"I still have work to do!" She argued, though didn't actively try to get away. Instead, she cuddled to his chest as he snorted.

"Doesn't seem like you're all too concerned about it, Doll."

"Maybe because you're warmer than the Foundry."

"I'll take that at a compliment."

"As you should."

She couldn't help but relax in his arms, her gaze drifting to the gear necklace around his neck. It made her feel... proud. Proud and another feeling she couldn't quite pin down. She reached up and caressed it lightly, feeling as he looked down.

"You really like them...?" She asked quietly, only to jump as he cupped her chin and had her look at him.

"I love them." He replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Stay here for a while, we'll get back to work soon."

She was silent with a smile, nodding and nuzzling under his chin carefully before wrapping her own arm around him.

"Fine... I get to decide the next break time, then." She said. He chuckled.

"It's a deal."

#resident evil #resident evil village #re8 #resident evil oc #resident evil village oc #re8oc #resident evil village fanfiction #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg x oc #lovelywingsart #lovelywingsocs #Metalworks fanfiction #heisenberg fanfiction

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id-rather-be-an-outsider · 3 years

Text

The Escape

word count: 3057

summary: Nancy Wheeler has been in the Fog for a long time, and while she’s been there, she’s been taking notes. now, she’s thinks she’s found a way out - a real way out.

a/n: I originally posted this on the DBD Amino for the #AStrangeFarewell challenge back in November 2021. It features three of my OCs - Najma Ali, The Scarecrow, and an upcoming OC 👀 hope you like it!

masterlist

Nancy Wheeler was a peculiar thing. Bold, yet quiet, calculating and inquisitive. Every decision she had ever made in life involved thorough research and heavily weighing out the options before her. She hadn’t considered the option of ending up in the Fog, however, and the only option she’d considered since arriving there was escaping the Entity’s Realm.

She knew everything there was to know about the Fog - or at least, everything she could find from scraps her predecessors left behind before descending into complete madness. After that, she was unsure, but she knew she couldn’t stop. She could never stop, not until she found a way out of the hell of monotony, torture and depression that was the Entity’s Realm.

One day, Nancy noticed some things changed - a new killer and survivor arrived on the scene, and the survivor almost always made a beeline for the killer in every trial. At first, Nancy thought Najma was just trying to keep the killer distracted, but that once upon a time didn’t last. When she heard Najma speaking to the Scarecrow during one of their trials, it made her blood boil.

“Oasis, I know you’re in there - if you could just talk to me, tell me that this isn’t your choice, I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m not the person you’d probably hope to see, but-” Najma’s voice broke off as Nancy heard the whiff of a knife while she hid in a locker, rage building inside her.

‘How could she make friends with the enemy?’ Nancy thought to herself, ‘Why do we have to suffer for her batshit crazy ideas?’

Panting, Najma tried to continue. “No matter what happens, I’m going to get you out of here. I promise. No matter how many times you kill me, no matter how many times we’re stuck in one of these trials together, I don’t care - you’re all that matters to me.” It may have seemed traitorous to Nancy, but for Najma, finding the Scarecrow and trying to reason with her every match was her duty. Besides, it’s not like it hurt anyone. Well, anyone aside from Najma herself.

It would have been romantic, had the recipient of those kind words not then cut Najma down, throwing her on a hook mere moments later. Nancy ignored Najma’s screams of agony, opting instead to repair a generator near the hook, in turn warding off other survivors from rescuing the traitor. She didn’t bat an eye when the dark bombshell was sacrificed to the Entity, and she certainly didn’t trust her or help her in any trials afterward. Najma didn’t notice the change until a few trials later, and from then on she gave Nancy a wide berth, staying far away from her and only interacting when absolutely necessary. Najma didn’t know what Nancy had against her, but she could tell it wasn’t good. Did she know? Did everyone know?

Nancy’s choice to not inform the others of Najma’s true motive for entering the Entity’s Realm after they got back to the campfire was entirely for her personal gain, or so she’d told herself. She had dirt on Najma that no one else did, and she could use that dirt to get more information on an escape. That was what Nancy told herself to feel strong, cunning, shrewd. Najma was filled to the brim with anxiety in every trial, and back at the campfire with all the other survivors. As the weeks went on, though, she worried less and less about anyone at camp finding out about her choice to try and help Oasis.

The truth was Nancy was too weak to tell anyone. She didn’t have it in her to make an outcast of someone - not when she wasn’t absolutely sure why Najma was trying to reason with the opposition. Maybe others like Yun-Jin would be more keen on an opportunity like that, but Nancy held her humanity like a treasure, something valued higher than jewels.

In the Fog nothing mattered aside from a few hours of existence in the trials, so one created meaning and purpose where they could. For Nancy, that was maintaining some form of compassion, though she had been stuck there for so long she was sure her definition of compassion had slowly twisted into something selfish and somewhat cruel, at worst, and at best, a laughable version of inaction and sympathy.

When a young David Tapp stepped into the Fog looking for the same ‘Oasis’ person, Nancy knew she’d been right in keeping quiet, and when the others mentioned how crazy he was in thinking there was a way out of the Fog, she nodded along in agreement. At the same time, she took notes, listened to his rants and let him talk about the person he loved and how she was stuck somewhere in the Fog. He kept mentioning religion, demons, deities, and Nancy wished so badly to be able to tell him everything she knew.

Eventually, she did. She could tell Detective Tapp didn’t want to trust her, he seemed to think of everyone in the Fog as shifty. And he didn’t trust her. Tapp knew he only had one goal: To find Oasis and get out. To be fair, Nancy didn’t feel comfortable trusting most people there, either. Steve was the only person she was close to, and for good reason - she didn’t know anyone else in the Fog. Not them, not their pasts, and if Najma was a lesson, contained within the pasts of every person in the Fog was a reason for them being brought to the Entity’s Realm in the first place. She never was quite sure if she wanted to know the survivors’ reasons why, and she could only guess at some of the killers’.

Nonetheless, the two became partners. A detective and an aspiring journalist turned out to be quite the team - Nancy didn’t think she’d ever found information half as quickly as she did working together with Tapp. Even if their journeys were separate, they both had the same goal. Everything was great, until the hotshot detective started appearing less and less, and finally vanished, along with the Scarecrow. The farmland mockery wasn’t missed much by Nancy, but she also knew not to celebrate; one missing killer would soon be replaced by ten more, they always were. Tapp’s disappearance was disheartening - did he leave her behind? Did he get sent to the void? What happened?

What Nancy had yet to find out, was that the resourceful Tapp had finally gotten rid of the Scarecrow’s mask and helped her find her humanity. Together, they left the Fog behind, and were relishing in every moment they had together, finding comfort in being together after what felt like an eternity in the Entity’s Realm.

Nancy’s mind was nothing but scribbles. The next time she saw Steve, he handed her a note. “Tapp told me to give this to you when I saw you next.” Nancy thanked him heartily and poured over the note.

Instructions and advice were listed, and at the end of it, something more personal. ‘You didn’t have to help me, but you did, and for that I can only thank you. I was able to save the woman I love from a fate worse than death, and nothing I can do will ever repay you for that. Your comrade, Detective David Tapp.’ It was the first time Nancy had smiled since entering the Fog, and one of only a few times where she felt any real hope for getting out of there.

David Tapp’s escape with Oasis, the Scarecrow, or whatever she was supposed to call her, filled Nancy with resolve. She memorized those instructions and ripped the note at the bottom off, folding it and tucking it deep into her jean pocket for safe keeping. She knew that was something she would want to take with her back into reality. She couldn’t believe that the Entity’s Realm was a real place, not after what she’d already faced in the Upside Down. She didn’t know if she could bear it. Probably not, there weren’t many things that made her unsure of herself, so if it was causing doubt… our dear Nancy didn’t want to think about it.

Her last match ever was a bust. It was down to her and Najma, and there were still three generators left. Then two, but both of them had been injured, Nancy running from a tall figure with a cane, who could trick you into seeing things that weren’t really there. He sent chills down her spine, the way he was always calling for someone named Alayna… it seemed like almost everyone in the Fog was connected to someone else.

Her thoughts betrayed her focus and she didn’t anticipate the Man-in-the-Moon cutting her off while she rounded one of the playgrounds. With one swipe of his cane, he felled her, and Nancy felt herself being constricted by his vicious snake, as she lay there writhing on the ground. All she could think about was how much she needed to survive, so she could have the best start possible before the Entity noticed her trying to escape.

She heard a loud yell in the distance, the killer roaring in anger from a trap set on a generator he damaged. If she weren’t fighting for her life, Nancy might have snickered at his expense, but as it were, she was rather wrapped up in a previous engagement.

Soon the dark, brown eyes of Najma Ali came into view, her outfit just as unsuitable as ever for the rugged environment as evidenced by the blood splattered on it, but she supposed the model had enough experience traipsing about in overdone getups to be able to choose her outfits without receiving any criticisms from Nancy. Najma’s dainty, delicately manicured hands pulled Nancy out of the illusion by grabbing Nancy’s own hands from around her neck. “It’s just a glamour, Nancy. It’s not real.”

“Easy for you to say when I’m the one stuck in it,” Nancy replied with a roll of her eyes. Najma bit her lip, forehead creased in annoyance, and stood up from her crouched position to walk away. Nancy felt a twinge of guilt pulling at her gut, so she called after the whirlwind of a woman. “Najma, wait!”

With as much attitude and spunk as ever, Najma stopped in her tracks, making a show of rotating to face the shorter girl, her only response being her hands placed on her hips and a raise of the eyebrows. Nancy carefully proceeded.

“I… I know you came here looking for Oasis, to get her out. I’ve known for a long time, now, though I can’t be sure exactly how long given how the Fog works.” Hope beamed within her, hoping for another piece of information.

Najma’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”

“I heard you talking to her once,” Nancy replied, then added: “But if I didn’t know, you would’ve told me as much right now. Guard your secrets more carefully, Ali.”

“Pleased with yourself?” Najma asked her, scowling. “I always knew you’ve never much cared for me. Your disdain was obvious.”

“That’s… not what I’m trying to say.” Nancy sighed as they moved at a crawling pace to the next generator, knowing that stealth was a better strategy while they had the disadvantage. “I’m trying to lead up to the fact that I know what happened to the Scarecrow, why she vanished. Do you know of a David Tapp?”

She scoffed, annoyance in every line of her face. “Oh, I know him. Don’t tell me, he sent you into the Fog as some sort of assistant?”

Nancy shook her head, and she swore Najma’s sigh was one of relief. “I never had any real world connection to or knowledge of him, no. But he came here, and he saved her. He got them out.”

“And they left me?” Her response sounded distant, hurt, like the news had inflicted a deep wound in her heart. Nancy only looked down, guilt filling her features. That was all the confirmation Najma needed to know the worst had happened. No, the worst would have been Oasis being lost forever, but this was worse. The girl might have been okay if Oasis had gotten out on her own, but to be left behind by that pair? It stung, in all honesty.

Najma forced herself to perk up. “Well then. That leaves only myself to worry about. He didn’t leave any advice, did he?”

Nancy shook her head, ‘no,’ and was glad she was a good liar. For research purposes, of course. She couldn’t have Najma steal her own instructions. “I do have something, though. I haven’t seen my friend, Steve, in some time. Do you think… you could give him this?” Nancy pulled her journal out from her jacket pocket, passing it to Najma. “It’s his, but he let me borrow it.”

Najma raised a skeptical brow at her. “If this makes us even? Sure.”

Nancy replied, “Oh, it’ll make us even, alright. I’ll owe you one.” Najma pondered on it a moment, then nodded her head determinedly.

They completed the next generator after toiling for some time, and Nancy noticed that Najma had lost the pep in her step. It may have been harsh, but in her mind, Najma should have seen it coming. Whatever rivalry between the two for Oasis, one was clearly capable of solving the puzzle of this mist, whereas the other… wasn’t.

This change in Najma ended up being Nancy’s saving grace, as the killer found them before the gates could be powered, and Nancy could hear Najma’s wails of pain as she made an escape through the hatch. She told herself it was all to make the real escape.

Nancy wished that she could give Steve more advice, but there was only so much she even knew herself - Tapp’s ‘instructions’ weren’t so much legitimate instructions as they were a step-by-step hypothesis to what would probably happen if Nancy did which thing in what order. She only hoped they worked.

Retracing his steps proved more difficult than she’d thought, not that Nancy thought it would be easy. Getting alone in the Fog, finding a suitable offering, finding the right kind of place, doing the ritual - it felt like it took forever. It could’ve, considering time in the Entity’s Realm seemed to act a bit strange.

With a stick, Nancy drew two circles - a smaller one to hold the sacrifice, and a larger one for her to stand in. In the smaller circle, she placed a crow she’d found and nearly killed, leaving it only just alive.

Then, she poured a handful of maggots on the crow, giving them time to start burrowing in. The Entity liked pain and suffering, and according to Tapp’s notes, suffering at the hands of others was especially sweet. The crow cried out, cawing in pain as it tried to get on its feet, or fly away, but neither were feasible. It no longer had legs to walk on and its wings were clipped. Eventually, the wretched creature ceased its thrashing, the pain to great to fight.

Nancy didn’t think she’d ever heard a bird moan before, but she knew she never wanted to hear it again. Tears trickled down her dirt covered face as she recited ancient words from a language no one knew other than the tall woman whose limbs had gone necrotic long ago. The Survivors called her the Plague, since she carried sickness with her everywhere she went. Sometimes Nancy wondered what it was like to be a leper among lepers, but she never pitied the Plague for very long once they faced her in a trial.

She finished the ritual and sat, waiting and waiting for the poor bird to finally die. The sins she committed in the name of freedom felt like too great a price to pay, once she stared them in the face, their eyes growing more and more dull. She didn’t want to think about the number of people in the Fog who stooped to such deplorable lows in the name of escape, or just survival. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened to them afterwards, or to their victims.

Finally, a curling tendril of mist floated down from the sky, meandering through the air to hover just above the crow. For a minute, nothing happened aside from the crow falling silent. Then the mist expanded, enveloping the crow in itself, and Nancy heard the bird panic once more. When the mist cleared, the crow had feet and wings again. It was much larger than normal and looked like a sick amalgamation of brambles, crawling maggots, feathers and sinews of flesh, a slick black substance flowing throughout. The feet were also constructed of the same oily substance, and when the crow got up, it looked at Nancy with one beady, maggot-filled eye, cawing in hello. It turned its back to Nancy, giving a flap of its wings and gazing at her expectantly.

Cautiously, she reached out to the crow, and laid a hand on its giant back. The crow sat patiently, unmoving, and Nancy took it as her invitation to timidly climb on the giant rotting bird. She tried not to gag at the idea of the crawling vermin and potential diseases festering literally right under her nose, and pulled her sleeves up over her hands to create a barrier between her and the rot as she held on tight.

With a piercing cry, the crow’s powerful wings lifted Nancy up, up, up into the sky, and soon the two flew into the thick, all-encompassing fog. Nancy’s next sensation was hearing the rustling of leaves, the wind blowing, the birds chirping, and the occasional car ambling down a nearby road. She realized she was looking ahead, and when she turned behind her, not an inch of Fog was in sight, the only sight being the end of a meadow of freshly-bloomed wild flowers. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath, and when she exhaled, a smidge of a smile began to creep into her features, relief drawing salty tears out of the corners of her eyes.

A familiar voice said, “Nancy Wheeler?”

#outsider writes #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd nancy #nancy wheeler #dbd the scarecrow #dbd david tapp #detective david tapp #david tapp #dbd najma ali #David Tapp x Oasis O’Flann #dbd stranger things

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wonwoonlight · 3 years

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hello, it’s me, back once again~ i was so sad by how short the chapter was 😭 i could read this story for forever long i am not joking

i was expecting to get a chapter of their festival date (i know it wasn’t a date but it was a date) so for a minute i was confused like did i miss a chapter?? but then it all made perfect sense and i m e l t e d when she called him gyu and he got all shy 😭 like please jennie was sus when she heard oc call him mingyu now imagine if she hears her call him GYU

okay theory time - gyuri’s mom is a random person mingyu slept with once. the info i have to back this up: in an earlier chapter he said he hadn’t had a one night stand since gyuri was born. this means he had at least one prior to her birth (which could be the mom or could not be). two: he said the last time he’d been that nervous around his parents was when he got “someone” pregnant. maybe it was written that way to not let anything slip but i feel like referring to mom as “someone” is very disconnected and detached and therefore i don’t think it was a serious girlfriend, maybe just a casual thing (or i could be totally wrong who knows (you do) ahshsh). now the reason he hides gyuri so much? the end of this chapter! our mingyu turned out to be the most eligible bachelor and the media didn’t even know gyuri existed? for some reason in my head i thought he was very protective of her but it never crossed my mind that people didn’t know about her existence. so i don’t think he shields her so much bc of her mom or anyone looking for gyuri, i think it’s just bc no one knows about her.

my theory for upcoming chapter: this article forces oc and mingyu to talk about why they were confused as being a family. they discuss the truth behind gyuri’s mom / talk about what happened between them / kiss and get together and stay together forever (pls) and then mingyu proceeds to tell the media heck yes this is my baby girl and this is the love of my life (this is just late night thoughts after reading the chapter i know whatever you wrote is much better than anything i could imagine).

here you go, i’ve delivered yet another ridiculously long message. to fellow my daisy readers - i’m so sorry if you read this message + my theories without meaning to. to our talented my daisy writer, thanks again for another great chapter!!

yesss it's the shortest one in the whole series 😭😭 promise the next one would be longer tho!

I skipped the festival ~date~ because I want you all to go wild with your imagination and decide yourself whatever happened during that festival :p what matters is: it opened a whole emotion gate for the both of them that has been waiting to be opened since like.. chapter 2 jbdjhsdbf

[spoiler alert!]

AH i always enjoy reading your theory and deductions 😌 you're so nice to do this i hope u know i appreciate the time you take to type all this down😭😭 here's my comment on this episode and the next one's theory: some of the stuffs you said aren't that far off what i've written 😼😼 just gotta figure out which is which :p

there's only one single hint about the whole... Gyuri's secrecy to the outer world, tbh. In chapter 3, when she went missing in the building, no one recognizes her. Perhaps theyre busy too, perhaps they dont notice this small girl loitering around the lobby. I did say the lobby was always empty more often than not. But this is their CEO's kid and no one, not even the security recognizes her??

That's it, the only blatant hint I've ever dropped abt her secret existence hoho you'll know if there's any other hint in the next chapter 😚😚

and please dont think its ridiculous, it's readers like you that make writing much less exhausting and worth the hours and hours I spent writing this💗

#ask #mg: my daisy #my daisy update

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aelaer · 4 years

Text

Re: Blood in Your Veins

Hey so uh.

As anyone who’s been following me for a while knows, I started the serial “The Blood In Your Veins” about this time last year (it used to be ‘my veins’ but retitled it on its move to AO3 because execution of prompt had changed a bit over writing). It’s a prompt that I couldn’t stop thinking about and just dabbled in slowly to see where it went. Then 2020 fully hit and my writing came to almost a complete stop until about October, which is when I began again on Illuminating the Shadows, which was finished and posted in December.

Anyway, I’ve been poking and prodding fairly continuously at The Blood in Your Veins. The first four parts that I posted originally here on tumblr are now all on AO3, and once part 5′s up I’ll link it here and link everyone who wanted alerts to the updates then so they can see the new part. Then all future parts will be linked here as well.

(Cut because why the *hell* did I write this much about this?)

I’ve been slow in posting because I, against better judgement but why not, decided to post it as a WIP. But that means I keep on making edits to older parts because I think of something new that should be addressed earlier in the story. Like uh, when I was writing part 9, I realized I needed to go back to part 5 and add an addendum. When I was writing part 12, I realized I totally forgot a part that I ended up adding in part 8, because I needed it for a future connection. This happens all the time in my writing and makes posting WIPs almost dangerous because my thinking is rarely linear if the story takes place over a course of more than a couple days. Thus the very slow posting.

So this silly little prompt thing that I was just prodding and poking at to see where it went? The farking doc passed 50k words tonight. Yup.

Granted, like 10k of that is probably outlining, personal notes, and A/Ns filled to the brim with meta, medical science, fake science, and technical/computer engineering because I love talking about it and giving people info to access easily for their own knowledge. I figure I can’t be the only one who finds this stuff super fascinating and fanfic makes it unique in that it’s not a book where the research is irrelevant, you can show off all the interesting stuff right here and talk about it with people! I love that about fanfic, so much. Sometimes the A/Ns are just as interesting as the story in some stories.

So it’s gonna be a bit slow for however long, but I finished 11 parts (with 10 betaed), have the 12th largely written out (though I’m not 100% sure about it yet so I want to poke at it more), and parts uh, 13 to 17ish outlined. But considering I was like “yeah this is 8 parts at most” like, at the beginning of this, that number is bound to change because characters keep saying things and doing things (including the supporting OCs, who are demanding to be fully fleshed out within the bounds of supporting character roles).

And yeah, this is just a ramble of what I’ve been mostly doing as I haven’t been super active on tumblr this month as this has consumed most of my free time. I haven’t read a lot of works either, and once this is completed I hope to remedy that, before I go into my next two big projects (which were meant to be what I was working on *now*, but then this took over and what will you do. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to complete three novel-length fics in the course of the year, but I’ll see what I can do. I really want to tell these stories).

Uh, this was really long. Sorry, I’m super verbose and don’t know how to be like, succinct. My old boss, two bosses ago now, used to quote Twain about brevity being a sign of wit, but if it is, call me 100% unwitty because I like to ramble. And then I always feel a little bit guilty for writing *so much* about my bullshit, so I feel like if you read this far, you 100% deserve to read a preview of an upcoming section. Especially since you pressed the Read More button! So here you go, thanks for reading my rambles. This is a section from the longest part so far, part 8. It’s a long little bit!

---

"How high's the toxicity now?" Tony asked as he stepped off the scale.

"Yesterday's blood sample came back at 0.45 milligrams per kilogram of your weight," Stephen replied. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

Tony offered his arm for the blood draw. "And if 3 milligrams is the magic number for fatality, that'd put my current blood toxicity at 15%."

Stephen inserted the needle at the crook of Tony's elbow and watched the tube fill up. "That's not quite how it works."

"It makes sense to me."

"That's still not how it works." He removed the needle and capped the tube, and as he put everything away, explained, "Saying that your blood toxicity is at 15% implies that you're talking about the whole volume of blood in your body. You're probably at about 5,500 milliliters with your weight, and with the density of blood equaling about 1.06 grams per milliliter, it is like you're saying—"

"That 874.5 grams of my blood is toxic, yeah, yeah, I know," Tony interrupted. By now he was setting up the table for their breakfast.

"I was getting there."

"You were going too slow," he shot back easily. Stephen gave the engineer a look at the comment, but Tony ignored it. "Yeah, I know it's not my whole body's blood volume. Obviously. But putting a percentage on how long until I reach the point that I'm dead makes sense to me. I'm not measuring the whole volume of my blood, I'm measuring how much more can I handle until I'm dead."

Stephen shot him a frown. "It doesn't make sense to call it 'blood toxicity' then."

"Maybe not to you, but it does to me. And I'd design such a measuring tool for me."

The statement caught him off guard. "Design?" He finished packing up the kit and joined Tony at the table.

"Well, if I wasn't stuck in here, I'd design something to automatically read a blood sample, like how glucose meters read blood sugar levels. Wouldn't be hard to engineer something like that. And I'd have it give me the amount of toxicity as a percentage relating to how far along it was until the amount was lethal. Sure, I could memorize the numbers, but the percentage would be more concrete in my head."

Stephen smeared butter over a piece of bread as he listened. He shook his head at the end of Tony's explanation. "Wouldn't work for the consumer market; there's too much room for interpretation as to what the percentage means."

Tony huffed. "Well, like I said, it'd be for me. Not the consumer market."

His brow furrowed. "You're telling me that you can make a blood test as simple as the one used for testing blood sugar levels for something as rare as palladium poisoning?"

He narrowed his eyes. "... yes…"

"You can make it portable like the glucose meters?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And affordable to most hospitals?"

Tony looked up in thought. "I don't usually factor in the costs of materials and manufacturing in personal projects, and others do the number crunching to see if my ideas are viable for production in company projects. If they aren't, but I really want them to be, I'll tinker a bit more, sure."

Stephen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Do you realize the amount of money you could save for both hospitals and patients across the country with such technology? Specialized blood tests—like for many metal poisonings, for instance—aren't offered at every hospital. It may not be available even in every state. Those types of lab results can take weeks to get back to a doctor and the patient. And you're saying that you can not only potentially create this type of technology, but that you may be able to make it affordable if you really want them to be?"

"Well yeah, sure. I've done it a few times with other things. I could probably do that with a blood meter thing. I doubt the tech's that complicated."

His mouth was partially hanging open, Stephen realized this, but he couldn't bother at the moment. He was flabbergasted. The first thought that came to mind went to his mouth, unfiltered. "And you spent the last two decades building weapons."

"Don't." The word was sharp and filled with an overabundance of emotion.

Stephen fell silent. He crossed a boundary he had yet to see before now, and he was not so callous as to push against it. Instead he turned to his meal and focused on eating. He avoided looking at the other man.

A couple minutes later, Tony spoke again. It was low, pensive. Thoughtful. "There was a good reason I shut down weapons manufacturing after I got back from Afghanistan, you know. If the department ever comes back, it will be with major restrictions and modifications. Likely more defensive than offensive. More shields, less missiles. But in the meantime I've been restructuring. Expanded in commercial aerospace and industry. We entered the energy market properly. Consumer products is coming soon—end of the year, probably." A pause. "Don't see why we can't look into medical tech, either. Certainly wouldn't hurt to try."

He could only nod and say, "It certainly wouldn't."

#my writing #my wips #fic snippet #stephen strange #tony stark #also why do my fics spiral out of control like this #i mean really

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Just Let Go

This Is Day 9 Of Roleplay May

Words: 4570

Warnings: Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Letting Go Of Control, Restraints, Orgasm Control, Dom OC, Sub Stiles, Good Boy Kink, Think That’s It.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, OC (Michelle), Mentions Of Void, Mentions Of The Pack.

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x OC (Michelle)

Summary: Stiles is pulling away from the pack a little and falling behind on school work, so Michelle agrees to help him with the studying for their econ exam. However, it turns out that all the studying in the world isn’t enough to help him. Michelle quickly discovers that Stiles is hiding more than he first let on to anyone else and she helps him find release.

A/N: This is Especially for my beautiful girl Michelle @holyhellpit @dylanholyhellobrien for all of her incredible support over the last five years we’ve known each other and not forgetting her amazing work! I try to include a fic for her in every time I do one of these things :) So I really hope you like it babe <3 ;)

Michelle pulls up in front of the Stilinski house and grabs her things from the passenger seat of her car. She’d offered to help Stiles study for their upcoming econ exam, since he’d not really been able to focus lately for some reason. He hadn’t told anyone why, just said it was a bunch of different things that were mounting up, things that he didn’t want to get into.

Although, Michelle had a sneaking suspicion that there was more going on than just a few things weighing on him. Especially since the thing with Void, it was clear apparently only to her that he wasn’t the same happy go lucky boy he’d once been.

She could’ve been crazy but lately it felt more and more like they had been getting closer as friends, maybe even leaning towards more than friends. Which was perfectly okay with her, but she’d had no desire to push Stiles into something he didn’t want if it were just her imagination. So she ignored it the best she could, no matter how hard it was.

After locking her car she makes her way up the small path, noticing that the Sheriff’s cruiser is already gone. In all the time they’d been friends, she wasn’t sure how often the two of them had been in his house together and they’d spent even less time alone together.

Reaching the door she takes a deep breath and knocks. It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open revealing a very dishevelled looking Stiles, hair sticking up all over the place and still in the middle of struggling to pull his t-shirt over his head. Which gave her a nice view of the surprisingly defined abs which he hides so well beneath the t-shirt he wears.

Before he successfully gets it to fall into place.

Michelle is still biting back a smile at the way the goofball turns up at the door, when he finally meets her gaze, those big brown eyes of his growing a little wider than usual.

“I uh… Sorry, I guess time kinda got away from me a bit today” he rushes to explain, stepping back so that she can walk past him and into the house.

“Don’t worry about it, Stiles. It happens to the best of us,” Michelle assures him with a soft smile as she hangs her coat up and kicks off her shoes. “So, where do you want me?” Her question takes him by surprise and he almost chokes on his drink. Yet another thought crosses her mind when Stiles becomes a little awkward, rubbing at the back of his neck, after repeatedly stumbling over his words

“Well I was thinking upstairs, if that’s okay?” Stiles sighs a little relieved when Michelle simply nods. They both gather up their snacks and drinks and Stiles collects his things from the kitchen table before leading the way upstairs to his room.

Michelle catches him rolling his eyes at something and frowns, feeling a little more worried about him by the second.

“Is everything okay Stiles? You seem a little off, kinda nervous or something.”

Stiles remains quiet as the two of them walk into his room, but she thinks she might know why. Seeing that the duvet and sheets are a complete mess on the bed, her brow arches as she looks at Stiles, finding him already blushing as he looks between her and the bed.

“Yeah, sure. Fine, everything’s fine” he smiles awkwardly, starting to remake the bed but it would’ve been so obvious to anyone looking just how hard he was blushing.

Michelle wondered if he’d been having a little more than a mid afternoon nap before she’d turned up, but given his behaviour towards her already she thought it best to not say anything, simply heading over to the other side of his bed to help him finish making it. Stiles seems to relax a little in the moments that followed, an easy and comfortable silence falling between the pair.

Once their little job is done they grab their books and Michelle sets about teaching Stiles everything he needs for the exam. However, it doesn’t take long for them to become distracted, reminiscing on all of the times that coach had flipped out on them during classes. Almost all of them are related to Stiles and their love-hate relationship.

“So how’s the teaching assistants job going? You had to teach any dicks yet?” Stiles asks suddenly, as he pops another chip into his mouth, completely changing the subject.

“Yeah, It’s good. Keeping me super busy, I just think they find it odd that I’m only a few years older than them, yet I’m telling them what to do” she tells him honestly, catching the candy he tosses at her with ease.

“I bet you’re great at it though” Stiles mumbles quietly around a mouthful of food.

“Great at what?” Michelle asks through a laugh, “Being a bossy bitch?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits,” Stiles laughs when she throws a pillow at his head.

“I’m gonna have to put you in detention if you keep sassing me Stilinski, be a good boy” she warns him playfully, gently slapping his thigh with the ruler that had been laying between them.

Stiles’ surprised gasp catches her attention, he’s blushing again but he does his best to ignore the now slightly awkward situation. However, there’s no escaping the other type of tension in the air as their eyes meet.

Stiles licks his lips, whispering something under his breath that Michelle misses. Before he quickly looks back at the workbook between them, not allowing the look to linger too long. For a minute there Michelle expects him to get up and bolt off the bed, to her surprise he just stays there, fiddling with a pen before it drops back onto the book. Michelle looks over at him to find him scratching at the back of his neck in that adorably nervous way he does.

“Can I just say something real quick? It’s kinda gonna bring the mood down, but I need to tell you” Stiles asks as he rolls on his side to face her, Michelle mirrors his actions, resting her elbow on the bed and her head on her hand.

“Of course you can. Is everything okay?” she frowns concerned carefully laying her hand over his.

Stiles shakes his head looking down at their hands he smiles a little before finally looking into her eyes again.

“I just wanted to say thank you, you know. For everything you’ve done for me, since V-Void. It kinda feels like you’re the only one who even tries to understand. It’s just nice, spending time with someone as amazing as you, who sees me really sees me and doesn’t wanna run away.”

He’s so damn vulnerable suddenly and it breaks her heart to see him like this, releasing now more than ever that people don’t appreciate everything that is Stiles Stilinski.

“I wish I could do more, Stiles. Why would I run away? He wasn’t you, not even close. It’s gonna take a lot more than some psycho stealing your face to scare me away” she assures him sweetly, Stiles smiles at that looking down at the bed as he nods.

Michelle cups his cheek as a stray tear falls from his eye, he looks up at her again. Those sweet honey brown eyes looking right into hers.

“I just wish I could forget, just let go.” he swallows hard leaning into her touch as his body subconsciously shifts towards hers.

Michelle can hear her blood pumping in her ears, she would literally give anything to help him but she’s just worried right now may not be the best time. Her thumb brushes over the moles and freckles on his cheek, unable to stop herself from glancing down at his lips when he sinks his teeth into the bottom one.

“Stiles, we should probably keep going. I don’t-” her sentence is cut short when she sees the dejected look on Stiles’ face.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, stupid-” he’s cut off this time when Michelle presses her lips against his, there’s a moment where he stares at her with wide eyes.

Only seconds pass before he relaxes, carefully his hands cup her cheeks, long fingers pushing into her hair as the kiss deepens. When he gives over control immediately Michelle moans against his soft lips, their tongues explore each other's mouths, slow and tender but she can feel the need in every movement he makes trying to pull her on top of him.

Reluctantly she pulls back, gently dragging her teeth over his full bottom lip. Searching his eyes for any uncertainty, but all she sees is the lust and desire in those slowly darkening brown eyes.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she swallows nervously looking down at him, his wrists now trapped under her hands, his lips still a breath away from her own.

“Please Michelle, don’t stop. I’ll be a good boy,” he all but whimpers as his hands clenched into fists.

It takes every ounce of self control then and there for her not to give in.

“Oh fuck, Stiles, come on. You’re not playing fair,”

His cheeky smile only forces a smile from her.

“Please, I need you so bad. I don’t trust anyone, not the way I trust you and I know you want this, just as much as I do” he rambles off quickly, leaning up the best he can his lips press against hers again. Her fingers flex around his wrists, pulling a moan from Stiles when her nails start digging into his skin.

“Are you sure? You’ll tell me if you change your mind?” she checks, letting up on her grip on him a little.

“I promise” he replies quietly.

“Okay, just relax. Sit up for me.” She instructs calmly, Stiles does as he’s told. Sitting up so they’re both facing each other.

Stiles watches her closely as she climbs off the bed crooking her finger for him to follow her. He practically scrambles off of the bed almost falling on the floor. Michelle can’t help but laugh fondly at his eagerness.

“Calm down baby, we’ve got all night” she winks pulling her t-shirt over her head and throwing it at Stiles.

It smacks him in the face and falls to the floor, “Best teacher ever” Stiles groans, taking a step closer as she tugs off her jeans. Leaving her in just her simple black lacy bra and panties.

“Your turn Stilinski, strip” she smirks, watching him gulp as his eyes continue to roam her almost naked form. “You wanna be a good boy for me don’t you baby?” Michelle all but purrs, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his neck as she pouts at him.

Stiles nods rapidly in answer to her question. Her hands slip under the hem of his shirt, his skin so warm and soft. She smiles sweetly at him before dragging down his chest and over his abs pulling a whimper from those plump lips of his. Stiles quickly pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops it to the floor,

“Everything?” Stiles questions, his voice breaking under the strain of his nerves slightly as his thumbs hook inside his sweatpants and the elastic of his boxers.

Biting her lip Michelle nods, as the sweatpants are pushed over his ass she’s amazed by just how muscular it is, making her want to sink her teeth into it. His thighs are clearly strong and his cock has her mouth watering. But she’s still unable to suppress her giggle when those sweatpants get stuck on his ankle. She gently pushes him back onto the bed and tugs them the rest of the way from his body and crawls over him, while he shuffles up towards the pillows.

“God you’re gorgeous baby,” she smiles appreciatively against his neck hearing Stiles moan beneath her. Her lips and teeth drag down his neck, slow and teasingly. Stiles’ hands clench in the duvet as her tongue slides along his collarbone, Michelle’s hands slowly move down his biceps, feeling his muscles clenching beneath the skin.

His hands grab at her hair as her tongue circles around one of his nipples, her eyes flick up to meet his, seeing the hard rise and fall of his chest as she sucks marks into his skin.

When her fingers slowly drag down his ribs Stiles clenches his fingers in her hair. Narrowing her eyes at him, she makes him moan when a gentle slap hits his inner thigh.

“Hands off, naughty boy. Hold on to the headboard.”

“Please Michelle,” Stiles whines wriggling beneath her.

“This is all about you. I’ll take as long as I want, now do as you're told or I stop, and you can wait even longer” she warns him sternly. Stiles swallows hard and nods, his pupils blown wide, eyes almost black when he finally does as she asks.

“Good boy,” she praises, pressing a kiss to his hip and sucking a mark into his skin as her fingers wrap around his impressive length.

“F-Fuck” Stiles stutters throwing his head back against the pillows, Michelle moves her hand over him up and down slowly, enjoying the way he’s stretched out beneath her. Arms pulled above his head and stomach tensed, thick muscles straining against his skin. His head is tossed back in the pillows and his hips start bucking up into her fist.

Her free hand slides down his inner thigh, nails dragging along his perfectly soft skin, pulling a needy whine from his plump lips. Right before seals her lips around the swollen head of his thick length, laying her free hand and forearm across his lean hips and pinning them to the bed.

“S-So good - oh god” his broken moan sends shivers down Michelle’s spine. Licking along the pulsing vein she slowly takes his cock deeper into her mouth. Flicking her eyes up to look at him again she sees that he’s white knuckling the headboard, eyes screwed shut and that pink plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth to the point it’s almost bleeding.

Her hand keeps moving over his cock, up and down, slow and purposeful as she removes her mouth for a moment. “Stiles, look at me baby and breathe,” Michelle encourages gently, Stiles snaps his eyes open and looks down at her taking a shaky breath.

“Wanna touch you, please,” he all but begs, as she takes his cock back into her mouth and gently sucks, sliding her tongue over the leaking tip collecting the salty pre-come as she goes moaning quietly at the taste. Michelle lets her tongue circle around the perfect ridges, causing Stiles to thrust up towards her mouth.

“You’re close aren’t you?” she asks voice breathy as she releases his cock with a quiet pop. Fidgeting where she sits as her panties dampen considerably further, seeing the desperate look in his eyes and his flushed cheeks.

Stiles nods quickly in reply, making her smile as she completely releases his cock from her grip. “You want me to take these off?” she purrs seductively, sitting up on her knees and tugging at the sides of her panties.

Sitting up on his elbows and releasing the headboard, Stiles licks his lips, “Please” he all but croaks, eyes almost black as they lock onto her hands.

“Since you asked so nicely” she smirks, pulling them slowly from her body and dropping them off the side of the bed. Crawling over his body she straddles his hips, “You wanna feel how wet you make me baby?” Michelle asks seductively, as she rolls her hips down letting his thick length slide easily between her folds.

Stiles grabs her hips as they start to move, holding onto her as she rocks back and forth, watching the way his cock nudges against her clit with every movement.

“So wet. So hot,” Stiles groans distractly, his hands feel incredible on her, long slim fingers digging into her hips painfully. Her own fingers are digging into his chest, clinging to him for life.

“Want me to sit on your face? Let you touch whatever you want?”

“Fuck, yes please. Wanna taste your pussy so bad baby, please.” Stiles begs shamelessly, as his cock nudges at her entrance.

Leaning down she presses her lips to his, continuing to roll her hips into him. Stiles is a whimpering mess beneath her and she fucking loves it.

“Oh you will Stiles, but I want you to touch yourself while you’re doing it. Make yourself come for me, think you can do that?”

“Wanna come inside you though,” he moans as his cock starts to throb, still trapped between her folds, teasing her clit.

“Oh you will. Trust me, gonna make you feel so good,” she promises hotly against his lips, Stiles shivers dropping his hands from her hips, swallowing around the dry lump in his throat.

“Fuck, okay.”

“There’s my good boy,” she praises, kneeling just above his face, facing the foot of bed, so that she can see everything. “Now, wrap those long fingers around your perfect cock for me big boy.” Michelle moans as he cranes his neck, pushing the thick muscle through her folds. Lowering her hips, when he finally does as she asked and starts pumping his cock in his fist. She can still see her slick glistening wet on his member as he moves his hand.

Leaning forward she rests her hands on his thighs, rolling her hips back into his face. Stiles cries out into her pussy when her tongue brushes the tip of his cock again. Sucking back a gasp when Stiles sinks two fingers inside her, licking around them as she pushes back into him.

“Michelle, g-gonna come” his broken cry makes her pussy clamp around his fingers.

“Give it to me Stiles, come in my mouth” she practically growls, wrapping her lips around him as his fingers speed up their own push and pull, tongue rapidly flicking over her sensitive clit.

Stiles’ thighs start shaking when she sucks and his release floods her mouth, shooting down the back of her throat. Coughing a little she swallows him down, licking her smirking lips. Stiles moans when she climbs off of him and lays down beside him, “I wasn’t done, you didn’t finish.” he complains, still panting as his hooded eyes find hers.

Michelle spreads her legs and grips his hair between her fingers, “Oh sweetie, you’re far from done. The kiss she presses to his lips is quick and firm, pulling back with a harsh tug of his hair. “Now, no more hands pretty boy, work that mouth,”

“Yes Miss. Fuck you’re so hot,” Stiles hisses at the sting of the grip on his head.

Releasing him for a moment, her hips arch as he climbs between her legs hooking them over his surprisingly broad shoulders. Two long fingers spread her pussy open, dipping his head down, his eyes stay on hers, letting the tip of his tongue flick back and forth over her tight bundle of nerves.

Michelle’s already so close, being wound up by him for this long is driving her crazy. Tasting his release on her tongue was only adding to her need.

“You hard again baby?”

Watching his hips rolling against the duvet beneath him, he licks through her folds, from her soaked entrance to her throbbing clit moaning into her.

“So fucking hard, God I want your come so bad, please” he whines needy and desperate just how she likes him.

“So close Stiles,”

Her eyes flutter shut as he pushes those long skillful fingers back inside her, even deeper than before, moving even faster, curling them just right as he sucks her clit between his plump lips and flicks his tongue back and forth quickly.

“Fuck, yes! Right there Stiles!” she all but screams, hands quickly returning to his hair. Eyes rolling into the back of her head when her orgasm finally hits her like a truck.

She can hear Stiles moaning her name into her pussy as he laps up her juices like a man starved. She’s whimpering a little as she comes down, so sensitive, removing his fingers from her Stiles licks them thoroughly clean. Michelle can’t help but watch that skilful tongue licking along those long fingers that had always hypnotised her and this was something else.

Stiles kisses and nips his way up her body, slow and gentle until his cock is brushing through her folds again with every slow rock of his hips. When their eyes meet Michelle almost gets lost in those gorgeous brown eyes.

Hooking her leg over his hip she smiles up at him, before quickly rolling them onto his back so that she’s on top of him.

“Don’t look surprised Stilinski, I have thought about doing this to you for a while.” She winks, laughing when Stiles groans underneath her.

“So have I, but you just keep surprising me.”

“Is that what you were doing before I got here earlier? Thinking about me riding your cock were you?”

Stiles licks his dry lips and nods, she bites back the smile that’s pulling at her lips the best she can. “I come so hard every time I think about you,” he confesses.

“You’ll have to show me some time. Now are you ready baby?” she asks gently, wrapping her fingers around his thickness, letting the swollen head of his cock press against her slick opening.

“More than ready, please. Just wanna feel you,”

Their moans blend together as her hand releases his cock and she slowly lowers herself onto his length. Feeling herself stretch around him perfectly the deeper it goes. Stilling herself she takes hold of his hands and guides them to her breasts, a loud groan is pulled from his mouth as she drops down fully, letting him fill her in one easy movement.

Stiles’ fingers tighten on her breasts as she rolls her hips experimentally, “Fuck you’re so big baby, fill me up so good,”

He roughly pinches her nipples causing a needy noise to leave her lips, “Hands back up you, that’s enough touching.” she warns him, as she switches and starts rising and falling on his cock. Stiles’ hands fall from her breasts but quickly grip her hips when she speeds up, “Final warning, you bad boy.” she pants harshly, feeling his fingers tighten on his hips makes her smile, but it’s anything but sweet.

“You’re so tight, feels so fucking good,”

When she almost completely stops her movements Stiles swears under his breath, catching his lip between his teeth. Leaning over him she grabs a tie from the bedside table, “Hands. Now Stiles. You do not want to keep testing me,” she demands.

Stiles whimpers, giving her his hands, pulling them together roughly she ties his wrists together before connecting the tie to the bed.

“God you’re so sexy when you’re angry” Stiles moans out when her movements become more insistent. Keeping her eyes locked on his as she leans back, resting her hands on his strong thighs. Changing the angle perfectly, so that the head of his cock now drags against her inner walls in just the right way. The harder she bounces the louder Stiles becomes, the muscles in his arms straining as he tugs against his bindings.

Planting his feet on the bed Stiles starts to thrust his hips up, meeting her every thrust, her edge is nearing as the slapping of their sweaty skin falls into sync with every moan and whimper they’re pulling from one another.

“S-So close” Stiles whimpers chewing on his lip. Michelle slips a hand between her legs and starts to rub at her clit in hard fast precise circles.

“Don’t you fucking dare! Naughty boys come l-last, so wait your turn,” she moans around a gasp, the remaining hand on his thigh squeezing hard.

Michelle’s pussy clenches around Stiles’ cock and she screws her eyes shut, feeling the orgasm approaching, his name is a chant that falls from her lips. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream when she finally falls over that edge, her stomach clenching and her walls fluttering.

She can faintly hear Stiles begging for release beneath her and forces her eyes open, resting her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly beneath her hand.

“Need it please, God please,” he moans loud and out of control.

Nodding she lays fully on top of him and kisses him hard, all tongues and teeth as she unties his hands. Hands that immediately grab her ass and this time she doesn’t stop it him, “Give it to me baby, fuck me good and hard,” she purrs against his ear, dragging her teeth over his earlobe and pushing back onto his cock.

Stiles is like a man gone wild when he finally takes control, quickly flipping her onto her back. He grabs one of her legs and throws it over his shoulder, so that it’s trapped between them which changes the angle completely, heightening everything.

Plump pink lips attack her neck, sucking marks into her soft skin everywhere that he can reach as he continues pounding roughly up into her, his hips begin to stutter.

Grabbing Michelle’s hands he links their fingers and pushes them back against the bed.

“You feel so good, Stiles! Shit, come on baby!”

Stiles all but growls when he finally comes undone, two more rough thrusts of his hips, has him collapsing against her, sweat coating their skin, his damp hair pressed into her neck as he pants harshly, chest burning and heaving. Michelle holds him against her when he releases her hands, gently rolling them onto their sides.

His eyes flutter open to meet the perfect mix of blue and green in her eyes, “you’re so amazing,” Stiles smiles sleepily, brushing the backs of his fingers across her cheek. Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “So beautiful,” he breathes out slowly.

Michelle can’t help but smile, blushing at the way he’s looking at her, he looks lighter than he has in months, his big brown eyes are now back to being warm and loving just like they had been before.

“Hey you already got laid you know. No need to keep buttering me up,” she jokes with a laugh, which Stiles quickly joins in with.

“You were just something else. So much more than I ever hoped and expectations were high”

He’s grinning like an idiot as he holds her closer, “Like I said best teacher ever.”

“Are you gonna tell the pack what’s actually going on?” she asks, pushing the damp hair from his forehead.

“Maybe at some point. Right now, I’m happy with it just being me and you.” He smiles sweetly, leaning into her touch when she cups his cheek, letting her thumb brush across the blush.

“Hmmm, I like the sound of that,” she smiles letting him pull her into another unforgettable kiss.

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