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puckngrind · 4 years ago

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Leave Her Wild: Chapter 2 - N. MacKinnon

Summary: MacKenzie and her friends head to opening night for the Colorado Avalanche.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Word count: 2, 675

Series masterlist / Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Flames.

"You are really gonna wear that?" Mosi looks her friend up and down.

"Yeah, why?" MacKenzie tugs at her jersey. Of course she was going to wear it. Opening night, only hockey jersey she owned. Was a Christmas gift from her parents last year. She did a little twirl to show it off to the group of unamused friends.

"Because..." Drew rolls his hands and she rolls her eyes.

"Laissez les bons temps rouler!" Remy waves his hands in the air.

"That means, Let..." MacKenzie starts.

"Let the good times roll! We know.” Drew and Mosi say in unison.

"Alright, Mac is going to be wearing that. Remy has clearly pre-gamed. Mosi should’ve. We have our tickets and I'm driving so let's go." Drew starts herding the friend group out of MacKenzie's condo.

Opening night at Pepsi Center was always an event. MacKenzie and Drew got tickets from their volunteer efforts so the group headed out for their first time ever. They had gone to a Rockies game after Remy moved to Denver but normally the friend group didn't really do sporting events as outings.

“Is someone gonna explain these rules?” Remy plopped down from his first beer run with Drew and handed MacKenzie one. Eyeing her for the answer.

“Yeah. Kinda like soccer. You know?” She started. Knowing she was the only one who knew anything about hockey. “You can yell, cheer, boo. Doesn't really matter because no one really pays attention to the crazy you say.” The group all nod and she knows they will just clap when those around them do.

“So pizza-Jeep boy is wearing what color?” Mosi whisper yells while leaning into MacKenzie’s side during warmups.

“He’s in the blue and maroon jersey. The white is the Flames.” MacKenzie doesn’t take her eyes off the ice looking for Nathan to point him out but feels Mosi’s eyes on her. “Yes, Mo?”

“But… um... never mind.” Mosi stutters strangely.

"There he is." Kenzie ignores and points to the screen where they have a close up of Nathan showing his stats from the previous season.

The game starts which quieted the group’s chatter while everyone but Kenzie tried following the puck and going from watching the ice to the screen and back.

“Let’s go boys!” MacKenzie stands and yells after a big play with everyone in her section turning to look at her.

“Mac!” Drew pulls her down to her seat. “Check your surroundings.”

“You know I don’t care, right?” MacKenzie starts clapping again with a little cheer.

“As always, you do you.” Drew slow claps along as the game progresses.

Even though MacKenzie warned her friends that there might be only a goal or two, the game was high scoring which the friends all enjoyed. Remy cheered when anyone scored regardless of team. Colorado winning made the home crowd pumped and buzzing about being the year.

"We realize the season has over 80 games, right?" Kenzie comments to no one in particular as they head down the stairs.

“Food! Real food and drinks that don’t cost a million bucks.” Mosi begs on the way out.

“Allons! Let’s go!” Remy points to the closest restaurant he can see. "That one! Onward." Remy leads the group over.

Drinks, food, laughter fill the table as they banter back and forth.

“Isn’t that her, Mac?” MacKenzie hears someone nearby. She turns to see Nathan, Cale and a few more guys at a table about ten feet away. Nathan nods. She raises her hand then quickly feels the blood rushing to her face.

“Kenzie Lou, why are you the same color as your jersey?” Remy looks her up and down.

“Oh.” Drew mumbles with his mouth full seeing the table MacKenzie just waved towards.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun!” Mosi clapped and is greeted with a kick under the table. “Ouch. Well it is.”

MacKenzie huffs and stands to her feet. Inhales and walks right over to the table of what she assumed was full of professional hockey players.

“Nice game Nathan.” She stops right at the end of his table and knows her face is still bright red.

“Looks like you were rooting for the other team there. Sorry 'bout that.” One of the boys down the table barks out.

“Hi MacKenzie. Thanks. Were you there? At the game, I mean.” Nathan turns his body towards her.

“Yes. Got tickets because of the foundation thing so we all went.” She gestures towards her eager looking friends. They wave and Nathan waves back with a flick of his wrist.

“Oh cool. So you are a… a Calgary fan?” Nathan gulps hard taking in the home Flames jersey.

“Well, a Tkachuk fan, actually. Yeah.” MacKenzie looks over at the 19 on her shoulder. “He was phenomenal last… ya'll. Well. Yeah.” MacKenzie looks around the amused players and shuts up.

“Sorry, let me introduce you. Guys, this is the other Mac. MacKenzie. Uh. Shit. I never caught your last name.” Nathan looks at her searching for a name.

“Blackwood.” MacKenzie answers and the guy across from Nate spits out his drink. “Um.” She just looks at him.

Nate wipes his face and stares down his teammate. “Are you fucking serious, EJ?”

“Sorry man.” EJ hands him another napkin. “No teeth.” He flashes his massive gap which makes MacKenzie giggle softly and Nathan groan.

“Let me get this straight. You live in Cale and Tyson’s building, volunteer with youth, only seem to follow Tkachuk 'cause you don't seem to know Avs hockey.” He wipes his mouth to continue. MacKenzie recognizes him as the captain from the game. “Have the same name as a goalie in the league, and are giving my boy, Nate here a run for his money.” Gabe winks with a sinister smile.

“Wait what?” MacKenzie puts her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“What he means is…” Nate starts and MacKenzie places a finger up to stop him.

“No the goalie thing. I’m choosing to ignore the last part for now.” She says which gets a reaction from the entire table.

“Mackenzie Blackwood is a goalie in New Jersey. You happen to have the same name.” Nate explains.

“Gotcha. I’ll be honest, I catch games when I can but it’s background noise.” MacKenzie still feels her cheeks on fire but doesn’t let it stop her. “I will go to a Flames games if I'm in town when they play ya'll then a Blues game when I’m home with my dad and brother. Most of my hockey following is checking stats or social media.” She takes a deep breath not wanting to look directly at the table that all seem mesmerized by her presence. “Anyway, just wanted to say hi, which I did. So…. Nice game gentleman. Enjoy your post game dinner. Good seeing you again Nate. Cale.” MacKenzie nods and turns on her heals to her friends who haven’t touched their food since she left.

"Kenzie Lou!" Remy softly squeals.

"Don't." MacKenzie grits her teeth.

"What the hell did you talk to an entire table of NHL players about?" Mosi ignores her friend's request.

"I guess I have the same name as a goalie in the league." She annoyingly answers.

Drew starts typing before anyone can respond. "Oh yes. Mackenzie Blackwood. K not capitalized. Canadian. 22. New Jersey rookie who started last year. Wait, how does that happen?" Drew looks at MacKenzie's face . "Later. I'll google it later."

"Could we eat please?" MacKenzie takes a drink of her water and starts to finish her meal. She feels a ping on her phone and turns it over to read the notification.

Nathan's i-phone wants to airdrop you. Accept?

MacKenzie looks over and he nods at the phone. She looks back to accept and sees a screenshot from his notes apologizing for being awkward and asking for her number. She seems confused.

"Kenz?" Mosi questions.

"He wants my number." MacKenzie whispers.

"I'm confused." Remy whispers back.

"Found my phone on airdrop. Smart at least." MacKenzie chuckles.

"So airdrop your digits back to him or I will." Mosi pulls her phone out. "I just need to turn on mine. Who keeps it on? You, of course you do Mac." Mosi looks at Kenzie amused.

"Should I?" MacKenzie pulls at her loose curl wrapping it around her finger and letting it bounce back.

"YES!" Drew almost yells. "What could it hurt? Have a new contact for work at the least." Drew knew exactly what would get MacKenzie to send her number. She looks down to see Remy had written down her number on his napkin. The man always had a pen on him.

"Snap this to 'em." Remy pushed it over so MacKenzie did just that. Almost throwing her phone down as soon as she did. It buzzed not even a minute later.

Maybe Nate: Hi Mackenzie. This is Nate.

MacKenzie: Hi Nate. You can call me Kenzie or Mac

Nate: Okay Kenzie.

She looks up at him and he smiles wide.

Kenzie: enjoy your dinner

Nate: Same. I’ll text you later

She didn’t expect to hear from Nate but the next morning while getting ready for work, MacKenzie hears her text notification.

Nate: good morning. We are off Sunday and a few of us are playing cards at Cale’s place. Would you and your friends want to come over? It’s not far for you.

She stares at the text and starts to pace. Then sends out a group text.

Kenzie: Nate and some of the Avs want us to come over Sunday. Thoughts?

MacKenzie got all three messages immediately in return.

Mosi: obviously yes

Drew: yes is the only answer

Remy: fuck ya!

MacKenzie sent a text to Nate saying yes and asked what they could bring. She wasn't surprised Nate said nothing just themselves.

Sunday rolled around. MacKenzie and her friends walked down to Cale’s condo. She stopped in front of the door and Drew reached over her to knock. Kenzie looked up at him.

"What, just making sure we don't have to stand here forever." The door swung open as Drew finishes his statement.

“Nate, they are here and at least she’s not in a Flames jersey today.” The curly haired guy MacKenzie knew was Tyson from a quick google search of the team over the weekend.

“Decided to leave that at home, Tyson, but I can go get it.” MacKenzie points while giving him a half smile.

“Oh, and she...” Tyson turns to see Nathan behind him. “And she knows my name.”

“Sorry, don’t mind him. He got checked a little too hard at practice this morning.” Nathan pulls Tyson back into the condo. “Come in please.” He gestured and they moved past Nathan into the condo that was the mirror image of MacKenzie’s just slightly larger.

"Make yourselves comfortable." Cale popped his head out from the kitchen. "I'm sure you know where everything is."

"Yeah, just backwards." MacKenzie looks down the hall to the rooms. "Two or three?"

"Three. You?" MacKenzie raises two fingers and realizes her friends have already made their way into the living room.

"Thanks for coming." Nate was still standing behind her and she jumped.

"Thanks for inviting us. My mother tells me I need to make more friends here." MacKenzie sighs.

"Same actually. Tells me the team isn't enough." Nathan looks over her at his friends that were also his coworkers.

"Work, travel, and such keep my circle small." MacKenzie admits. "Oddly, same. You travel for work?" Nathan pushes his hands into his pockets and leans against the wall.

"I do then try to do different things for fun, you know?" She leans against the other wall.

"That's cool. Where are you heading next?"

MacKenzie's mind normally would be racing. Thinking of all the reasons why she shouldn't tell this essential stranger her work schedule but something about him made her feel easy. Maybe how he had more to lose if he burnt her. He didn't know what she did for a living but she could make his life miserable. Maybe it was the simplicity of their conversation or the kindness in his eyes. She felt like she could talk to him.

"Colorado Springs then off to Washington D.C. for the rest of the week and into next week." She answered him.

"Oh, I think we are in D.C. next weekend or maybe the beginning of the week." He stares at his foot kicking the invisible dirt then looked back up at MacKenzie.

"We are. Now are you two just gonna talk in the hall or are you gonna play cards here?" Gabe leans around the corner. "We've already gotten to know Kenzie's friends... let's go!" He gives Nate a look that doesn't go unnoticed. The two walk into the living room.

“Do I need to make introductions?” Nate looks around the room at all the eyes on both of them.

“Well, I googled ya’ll in preparation for today… so… I think I’m good.” She scans the room and sees a few of the girlfriends or wives. “Well, I don’t know the ladies.”

Nate took a moment to identify the few sitting around the room and who they belonged to. Pulling out an empty chair for MacKenzie. “Here, you can play here.” She sat down and pulled her legs up criss crossed under her as Gabe explained the rules. The group played poker until there were four left. JT, Nathan, MacKenzie, and Mosi. Mosi kept saying she accidentally won her table which made the competitive men agitated but made MacKenzie amused. Eventually it was just Nathan and MacKenzie.

“Kenzie, I think you and Nate need a wager of some sort.” Drew drops a bottle of water next to her and she glares up at him.

“I’m game.” Nate pipes up.

“Okay, so what if I win?” Kenzie takes a sip of water.

“Glass seats at the game of your choice.” Gabe declares.

“Okay, and if Nate wins?” Kenzie directs her attention to the captain who now has his hands on Nathan’s shoulders.

“You go out to dinner with him.” Gabe squeezes Nathan’s shoulders and smiles at Kenzie.

“Uh…” Nathan tries to nervously interject.

“That’s fine.” Kenzie tries to control her blush by not directly looking at Nathan then overcomes it to look right into his soft eyes. "Let's play."

Cale starts to deal and everyone can feel the shift of all eyes on the table even though most had scattered once they were knocked out in individual conversations. After three hands, Nathan goes all in.

"I think he's bluffing." MacKenzie whispers and pushes all her chips to the center.

"Kenzie..." He breathes out and Gabe's hand returns to his shoulder.

They place their cards down and Nathan wins with a full house. The cheers start and Nathan just stares at Kenzie who gives him a small smile. She gets up and heads to the kitchen to grab a drink. Finding Cale's rum and starts pouring more than necessary into her diet coke. Takes a drink and feels someone behind her.

"Drew, I'm not that competitive." She doesn't even turn around.

"It's not Drew." Nate murmurs.

MacKenzie turns around slowly. "Sorry. Nice game." She raises her glass to him.

"We don't have to go out for dinner, you know." Nathan shifts his weight.

"Well, a deal is a deal, right?" Kenzie tries not to breath him in as he reaches around her for a water but he smells amazing. He shrugs his shoulders. "If I won, would I have glass seats?" She leans into the counter.

"Yes, you can still have them if you want." Nate fiddles with the bottle, flicking at the paper label.

"So, dinner. When we both get back in town, okay?" Kenzie takes a sip and looks up at Nathan.

"Yes, I'll have my people call your people then." Nathan laughs.

"So Gabe will call Mosi?" MacKenzie bites her cheek with her comeback.

"Oooorrrr... I'll just text you." Nathan replies.

MacKenzie takes a drink again and winces with the burn. "That works too."

#leave her wild fic #N MacKinnon fic #Nate the great 29 #K's new series #2019 hockey season #nathan mackinnon

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thecarrieonokay · 4 years ago

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Macgyver 5x14 Thoughts

Sorry I’m a day late with this one guys… life got busy. But my thoughts have been marinating over the last 24 hours so maybe they’ll be more coherent? Nah. Probably not.

First off I feel like I should say that I was REALLY looking forward to this one. Bozer’s parents? YES PLEASE! Riley on the warpath with her hacker cohort in tow? HELL YEAH! Add to that the casting of Ernie Hudson and Wendy Raquel Robinson and I was sold even before it aired.

These are the things that really stood out to me (spoilers below the cut):

“Nah, they’re just hackers. Sarah’s non binary.”/ Aunty fighting for positive change. Actual acknowledgement that these characters cannot be separated from the cultural institutions that influence all of our lives. ALL HAIL MONICA MACER!! This new era is a slap in the face full of inclusive content we could have been having if there weren’t a toxic douchebag in charge of proceedings for the previous four and a half seasons.

Lovely character developing moment for Desi in the car. She related openly to Bozer’s struggles with maintaining his cover for his family. AND a family with high expectations for their child. Kudos to the writers for that moment.

Bozer’s family. OF COURSE Bozer is the product of two (three if you count Aunty Pamela, which we really should…) strong, capable and fearless leaders who have fought back against adversity and succeeded. Because being MVP means having a strong foundation and BOZER IS ALWAYS MVP THESE DAYS!

And what was also touching was that BOZER’S FAMILY IS ALSO MAC’S FAMILY. Because of course they are.

More Parker. “...But I do know what it’s like to not feel comfortable in your own body.” YES! She’s talking about WHO she is. I wish this weren’t so revolutionary but it is. Her level of empathy and understanding when Riley was spiralling was touching. Riley and Parker make an awesome duo.

Speaking of awesome duos: The Brink. I love them. Riley had such a proud look on her face when she was talking about them in the opening sequence. I wish we had more of them. And Riley is a badass. EVEN when she’s scared out of her wits. Period.

Bozer got an awesome car chase scene (Have we ever even seen him behind the wheel of a car the whole series?!) and saved everyone’s asses multiple times. Everyone wanted more screen time for this dude in s5 and HERE IT IS!

Using Mac’s grandfather’s hunting cabin as a location was A CHOICE. It serves to remind us just how long Mac has had to endure loosing the people he loves. Ouch.

I feel like a lot of you have already spoken about the scene with Mac and Bozer’s Dad at the water treatment works but FUCK I just gotta add my voice and say how I NEVER believed they would openly acknowledge Mac’s coping mechanisms like that. I loved every moment. And I loved the dodging Mac did because he fucking knew he was seen.

Desi. Kicks. Ass. Bozer’s mom approves and so do I! And poor Mac was worried for her in that moment. And the poor woman is trying. She really is trying to get Mac to open up. She sees his deflections but there’s a wall there that’s been built up over YEARS. With each new loss he’s laid another brick in that wall thinking it will help protect him from all the pain. Wall metaphors fucking EVERYWHERE, guys. Bottom line is that Mac deals with grief in an unhealthy way and Desi knows she’s not getting through.

Mac and Riley. Damn. Like DAMN that’s a way to end the episode. Their intimacy appears to have reached a whole new level since they were forced to be open and honest with each other. Mac was relieved when he realised it was Riley using a key to get in and not Desi catching him staring at Aunty’s memorial brick. His hesitation and subsequent ‘fuck it’ moment when he reached for her hand to offer reassurance. Progress. That memorial brick had me tearing up. Beautiful words, beautiful sentiment and heartbreaking moment when Mac was finally able to open up and acknowledge his grief. Riley doesn’t even have to try. She opens up and he opens up. Give and take. And that hug. THAT HUG.

But Mac is also angry. He’s DONE loosing people. Ominous foreshadowing, perhaps? I’m concerned, guys… I’d say the stakes are acceptably high for a suspense-filled finale. SOMEONE’S (MULTIPLE SOMEONE’S?) life is gonna be on the line. SERIOUS consequences are expected.

Still no scene/ conversation between Riley and Desi, though I wasn’t expecting it this episode given the two diverging storylines. Still, fingers crossed for one in the finale.

A couple of lingering questions...

Where exactly was Russ? He was on that plane for a long time. Also love the fact that he bundled himself in that blanket… probably because he was alone on the flight. Nice touch.

Not nearly enough Matty but there’s only so much they can squeeze into 40 mins! But she was wearing a super glam jacket that I totally approve of.

I admit that I’m confused about the villain. I really want to hate SOMEONE for these nanotrackers and I haven’t got that fulfilling feeling yet. Next episode I assume we will get more Bad Guy™ to focus on.

The 30th will be bitter sweet. On the one hand, I can’t wait to watch it. On the other, I’m utterly devastated that we may not be getting any more (but I have hope in this fandom, guys. YOU’RE ALL FUCKING AWESOME!!). Still, I may need to stock up on chocolate, tea and icecream before then… <3

#macgyver #macriley #macgyver 5x14 #episode thoughts #carrie's thoughts #savemacgyver

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perfectfoil · 3 years ago

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Vera doesn’t invest time and money in her appearance. Most of her time is spent in uniform and she is practically married to her job (porbably pulling double shifts and over time - also a way to stay out of the house and away from mum) so that leaves very little time to enjoy plain clothes and pampering (I hate that word). Hair and makeup are the only things she can use to change or ‘improve’ her appearance when in uniform, and she starts doing that because she wants to attract Fletcher’s attention which is both an incredibly stupid and brave way to go about it. Brave because stupid actually, because a lot of Vera’s insecurities are rooted in her appearance and in how she presents.

So in 1.06, she doesn’t put her hair up but curls it and leaves it down. She also puts make-up on following a detailed description and list of the products to use, and it looks like something she got from the cosmetics counter at some store where she more than likely got her face done and purchased what she needed to replicate the same look. I think that in that moment (the one I am basing on nothing but a piece of paper and some MAC foundation) Vera must have felt simultaneously out of place but almost ‘normal’, like she was finally doing the kind of things a woman her age does which was reinforced by whoever took care of her and encouraged her to try (and buy) and didn’t think that anything strange or unusual was occurring.

In the scene where she’s sat at her dressing table, she looks unsure and hesitant about what she sees in the mirror as she works on her cheeks, eyes and lips even though she’s got the technique down (and does a perfectly good job) because there is still a 14 (ish) year old girl in the mirror. And that teenage girl (who, by the way, has a completely different body type but that’s another topic for another day) is something that is inherent to Vera on so many levels. She has never severed emotional and psychological ties from her adolescence where she was verbally and emotionally abused by her mother who would tell her things like this: “Lipstick can't change what you were born with. Some girls can wear make-up, some can't. Better to know which one you are now so you don't go wasting any more of your money on this rubbish.”

This is why Vera feels like she’s playing dress up when she’s got make-up on. It’s as simple as believing what her mother told her: that she wasn’t born with whatever automatically puts her in the category of girls who can’t wear make-up. By choosing to go against that deep-seated conviction Vera is trying to be one of those girls because she is trying to fit in and she is trying to fit in by making herself look desirable. Personality wise, she is quiet and reserved, meek even because she doesn’t bring attention to herself and doesn’t like it. The make-up is Vera doing the exact opposite of who she is / believes she is and of how she’s always behaved. So yes, it is brave but it is also stupid because she’s nervous so it renders her even more timid and insecure and makes her go about the whole Fletcher thing in a very cringe worthy and awkward way.

Does she even feel good at any point wearing it? Because that’s what make-up is supposed to achieve: make women feel good about how they look and therefore bring about their confidence. The answer is no. She feels even more out of place than without the make-up on. Vera does not feel comfortable or good at all. Her checking her reflection in the rear view mirror of her car and her creeping into the staff room just show how uncertain she is about the whole thing. She does manage to attract attention (she gets comments about how good she looks by a couple of women) but that’s as far as it goes. The thing is: Vera doesn’t think she looks good and she doesn’t think she is pretty. There is nothing there mentally. She does not think she looks good because on the inside she still feels like an inadequate teenage girl with one foot in childhood and one in adulthood struggling to find her place at home - and she does behave like an inexperienced one re:Fletcher. In Vera’s mind, she isn’t like the women she interacts with on a daily basis. She lacks the ease, the confidence and the elegance of women like Erika or Hailey (that journalist who ends up advising her to wear her hair down) and she doesn’t fully embrace who she is like some of the prisoners. It’s like she lives on a threshold and never dares cross over into the room.

I don’t believe Vera thinks of herself as ugly but she certainly doesn't think she’s pretty. I actually think she thinks she looks ridiculous with make-up on and that that fact is obvious to everyone around her who will see her exactly for who she is: a dull and plain woman trying to be who she isn't. She’s scared to show herself and blabbers about it a few times because she feels the need to explain this make-over. As shallow, inefficient and damaging as it is: the make-up is her own way of trying to get herself out of her cage-like life and from under her mother's grip and control. Because Vera's inner voice and insecurities are Rita's voice constantly nagging and undermining her. So putting on make-up and pushing back against that voice and that vulnerability is her way to face it all down and to try to be someone, she doesn't who still because Vera is trying to be what people need her to be but she wants to find out even though she is convinced she is boring and has nothing to offer. Yes, she wanted Fletcher to notice her and to look at her differently but she also wanted more. She wanted to belong, she wanted to be part of something, she wanted to live outside of the two prisons she either works at or lives in.

#the desire to be seen to be appreciated to be desired ;; vera: meta

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escxpedes · 4 years ago

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loopholes (cont.)

I literally can’t even begin to tell you how much everyone’s support meant to me on the last chapter. All your comments and tags were so sweet, it was seriously the highlight of my day. I’m sorry for the delay, I meant to get this out a couple of days ago, but I’ve come down with a bad cold. This part, while fun, was so hard to get right. Angus Macgyver is a genius, his mind goes a mile a minute, and I wanted to do my best to replicate that. This part is a little slow in getting to the Macriley stuff, but I wanted to show how much he really thinks about things. He’s such a complex character, that if I didn’t do him justice, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Also, there’s dialogue in this one! Sadly, Jack isn’t mentioned in this chapter, but he’s there in spirit. Clearly, we all love and miss him. I hope you guys enjoy, the last part will be out soon! x

loop·hole

noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system

Riley finally moves into her new apartment, but struggles to adjust after the events of Codex and the realization of her feelings for Mac. When Mac finds her passed out over her keyboard after a late night of coding at Phoenix, he decides a talk is long overdue. Just some slightly angsty soft!macriley to help you cope with this season 5 hiatus.

of lips that i am yet to kiss (and eyes not met my own.)

It's highly unlikely that you'll find Mac walking down the halls of the Phoenix Foundation so late at night. Without the bustling energy of his coworkers fetching important documents or discussing the best way to break down one of the many mysteries the foundation deals with, the darkened hallways and quiet atmosphere can be unnerving.

Sure, he spends nearly every waking hour employed there, but he'd rather be outside the office in different countries, doing hands-on work and saving lives. When you work in his profession, It can be difficult to separate business and pleasure, but that only makes it more important—if only to conserve what mental health he has left.

However, in the haste of putting together last-minute preparations for yet another meeting with the Department of Justice and trying to make it back to his house in time for something Desi whipped up, he managed to forget his cellphone.

It's funny, mainly because of how little the small device truly matters to Mac.

It only goes to show how insignificant material objects, or even human beings in general, are. The idea that something so meaningless can affect someone's life so much when, if they just looked past that obsession and considered its part in the profound scope of the universe, another perspective would take shape.

It's fascinating stuff, really.

There's a concept essential to understanding Japanese aesthetics, otherwise known as an ancient set of ideals important to Japanese society, called Yūgen. When applied in the right context, Yūgen underlines this deep awareness of the universe and the experiences we have within it. It's often the feeling interpreted when you gaze at the stars late at night or watch the sunset dip behind a hill.

Mac wouldn't think twice before breaking his phone, or rather, breaking the phone of his nearest friend, open for an obscure part that might make one of his many homemade devices come together. However, when he's the only person able to communicate the scientific specifications of an unheard-of-until-recently base plan for saving the planet, he's practically on call 24/7.

He remembers having it in the labs earlier that day when he stopped by before his meeting to remind Bozer to come by his house on Friday for the team's new weekly attempt in group-bonding.

After the betrayals that surfaced during the climax of taking down Codex, the team collectively decided to spend more time as a group in hopes of eliminating any lingering doubts.

They used to hang out all the time before the government dismantled the Phoenix Foundation.

Mac still can't believe that, after everything they had been through, he allowed his friendships to dissipate over the year they had been separate.

Bozer is his childhood best friend, and Riley had become a solid foundation in his life. He didn't have anyone outside his team at Phoenix, and while he deeply cared for Desi, their first relationship was proof that too much time—and too little communication—with each other can do severe damage to one's sanity.

If Russ hadn't brought them back together, would they have tried to reconnect at some point?

Mac wants to say they would have but wouldn't blame them if they didn't; they all lost something they cared about, and each served as a constant reminder of it.

It would've been hard, but part of him feels like living without them is a lot harder.

When he manages to access the lab, flipping his shiny new I.D. card over his fingers and into its place in his wallet, his eyes scan the room. It's empty, which isn't unusual at this time, but years of military training have rewired his brain to notify him of threats, even if there aren't any.

Just like he thought it would be, the device sits untouched a few tables behind Bozer's workspace where Mac had been sitting.

Quickly, because he left the house in a hurry and forgot to leave a note, he scoops up his phone and makes his way towards the exit. There's a couple of missed calls, but it doesn't seem like he missed anything too important.

Not that they would let him.

At any rate, they would probably show up on his doorstep if they couldn't get a hold of him. With days off so few and far between, that's the kind of interaction he's hoping to avoid. Hence, why he came to pick up his phone when he realized it was missing instead of waiting until the next day.

He's nearly made it to the end of the hall when a light flashes in his peripheral vision, coming from the I.T. department.

His body is tense with apprehension; his mind races with several different kinds of possibilities and outcomes. He slows his pace, his movements fluid, silent, and controlled from years of stealth practice.

The light is soft, he notices, as if only one or two monitors are in use.

When he gets to the doorway and nudges open the door, hands at the ready, his entire body sags in relief to see the dark wavy hair he's come to associate with one of his closest friends.

"Riles?"

The nickname falls from his mouth before he can stop it, and even though the light from the monitor creates a halo above her head, shadowing her features, it's unmistakably her.

She doesn't move.

It becomes abundantly clear why as Mac moves towards her and notices the monitor's screen filling up with a sequence of letters that look nothing like coding despite his lack of knowledge in programming languages.

Her elbow balances precariously on the edge of the table, her arms creating a makeshift pillow for her head. The weight of her forearm bears down on the keyboard, causing the side of her hand to press down multiple keys at once.

He shakes his head a little, amused by the situation unfolding.

Her cheek rests comfortably on her hand, a serene expression masking the signs of exhaustion that showed on her face.

Mac's lips curved into a soft smile, seeing Riley in any state that wasn't cloaked in layers of worry or anxious determination always washed away any doubts he might have about working in such a stressful field.

The scars that covered his body, the secrets he has to keep, and the pain he has to endure are so unbelievably worth it as long as she out of harm's way and able to sleep peacefully.

Of course, he couldn't imagine anyone else by his side on a mission, knowing they share the same love and passion for kicking ass and saving lives.

However, he also knows that more lies underneath the surface.

He wouldn't wish the hardships of this job on anyone. Seeing it affect someone he cares about, watching it break them down slowly pulls at his heartstrings and fills him with a knowing sadness.

When a piece of hair falls into her face, his fingers don't hesitate to gently brush it behind her ear, lightly tracing her cheekbone and caressing her cheek.

Kneeling, his hand drops to her shoulder in an attempt to gently wake her.

After a couple of shakes, the expressive brown eyes he's come to look forward to seeing begin to flutter open and nearly render him speechless.

She blinks a couple of times, inhaling slowly, "Macgyver."

Her voice is full of sleep and breaks from misuse, but the way she says his name—like there's nobody else she'd expect to see when she wakes up —has him grinning from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Rising from her position on the table, she scans the room before meeting his eyes and scoffing, "It's hardly the morning."

He laughs softly, holding back the urge to mention that technically it is morning considering its past twelve. Instead, he focuses on the matter at hand, or more likely, the question at hand.

"What are you doing here so late?"

She's more alert now, sitting back in her chair and lifting her arms to stretch out the muscles that stiffened while she slept, glancing at her work on the monitor.

Her face drops into a grimace when she notices her mistake, "Matty and I were talking about updating the foundation's firewall and spyware," she yawns, "I must have been more tired than I realized."

Mac's eyebrows scrunch in thought, remembering something Bozer said earlier about Riley spending quite a few nights this week working late.

Between going over his mother's scientific data, trying to patch up whatever relationship he had left with Desi, and making sure he didn't go off the rails with grief, his effort to check in on everyone decreased significantly.

"Yeah, you've been doing that a lot lately," his hand returned to her shoulder to emphasize his point, "Everything okay?"

She waves him off, "There's too much work that needs to be done around here before we can get things running the way they used to."

Riley doesn't lie to him—if you overlook the whole situation with her ex, Aubrey, that is, but the movements she's making indicate otherwise.

Her eyes refuse to meet his, flickering down and to the right. When she talks, her head shakes lightly, and she purses her lips in an attempt to give off a careless impression. Maybe someone who doesn't know her or didn't train to pick up on it would believe her, but he knew better.

She was definitely hiding something from him.

Part of him understands that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. However, his instincts urge him to press harder, locate the problem, and bring back her contagious smile that always seems to fill him with warmth.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, you can't patch some things together by sheer will and sellotape, so instead, he stands up and drops his hand from her shoulder.

"Let's get you home."

#macgyver #macriley #angus macgyver #riley davis #i really hope you like this

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elphenfan · 4 years ago

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Wall of Love 1/?

Inspired by a ‘prompt’ off pinterest. I meant for this to be a oneshot and then...I wrote a lot because...me. So as not to make the one person asking wait for too long, we’ll do this in chapters. -------------------------------------------

It happened…when he least expected it.

Of course, that would imply that he, at some level, however infinitesimally small it might be, had expected it, and he could say that he hadn’t expected it at all with conviction and complete honesty.

How could he, after all? It wasn’t the sort of thing you ran into.

Ran into. Quite literally. How very droll.

The fact of the matter was that he had indeed quite physically run into it. Alright, so perhaps he had walked rather than run but that was rather beside the point, he would have thought. He had still walked straight into it, literally and metaphorically, and he hadn’t known what had hit him.

There. Had he managed to express enough modern idioms for it to get across sufficiently?

At least, he didn’t know until much later, and then he had known quite a lot of things all at once. The story about how all of that unfolded goes something like this, give or take a few details omitted or changed slightly.

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

Aziraphale hummed to himself as he walked, feeling in a particular good mood.

Of course, he had been in a general sort of good mood for some time at this point in time. It was hard not to be, considering. Even when Crowley treated the bookshop as his personal bedroom and went to sleep in the oddest of places. If it had at least been limited to horizontal places, then…

To be honest, though, that was something of a bonus. It meant that people who saw him were more likely to shun the bookshop and to tell their friends as well, and it gave Aziraphale more of an excuse to keep the shop shut so as not to disturb the sleeping demon.

Not that he needed extra excuses, of course.

But the addition of Crowley as a more or less permanent resident in the shop and in his life was enough to warrant a good mood whatever happened. No matter what mood he was in, what the overlaying mood was, as it were, the underlying mood was always one of contentment and happiness.

The foundation, you might say. Unassailable and unshakable.

Well, nearly.

If there was one fly in the ointment, to borrow an expression, then it was that –

No. That was not an issue and certainly no fly. He had asked about it and had got an answer. The fact that it might not be the answer he would’ve liked to hear did not mean it was an issue or a problem. Not at all, and he ought to be ashamed that he could as much as conceive the notion.

What he had was far more than he could’ve asked for, in any case, and he could not say he wasn’t over the moon with all that he had gained after…after That Saturday. What they had gained.

That had and would always far outstrip anything else.

One thing that he particularly enjoyed was getting to do small things for the demon, whether he noticed them or not. If he did notice them, though, he would splutter and bluster and try to keep his composure. To keep cool, as Aziraphale believed he’d put it, though the blond was at a loss to see what the point was. Then again, he always had struggled with seeing that sort of thing, though he knew it mattered to Crowley.

Interestingly, though, no matter how much bluster and reaction there had or hadn’t been, Crowley had never given the things back or put a stop to them, and so Aziraphale had carried on with them.

It had got to a point by now that the angel would from time to time announce that he would be going out to get one or do one of those little things, leaving the demon ample opportunity to protest or outright stop him if that were what he desired.

So far, there hadn’t been so much as a peep or a movement against, and so Aziraphale had carried on. Not everything was broadcast, obviously, though. There had to be some small opportunities for surprises.

Right now, for instance, he’d gone off to find something that Crowley particularly enjoyed eating but which was only available for a short period of time. It had taken a bit of time to find the best place, or even somewhere that made them, but he had managed it and now, with a bit of time taken out to gather a few extra goodies for the both of them, he was on his way home.

Home.

Home where a demon was waiting for him still. For a given value of waiting, that was. When he’d left him, he’d been snoozing quite happily, stretched out in an impossible position over the back of the sofa that ought to have resulted in him napping on the floor instead.

Not that that stopped the ginger when he felt like sleeping, of course.

Aziraphale felt his lips spread into a smile. Oh, he could hardly wait to get back and surprise his demon with his find.

Perhaps he would wake him with the scent of what he’d bought, which ought to count as a very lovely way to wake up. It was certainly strong enough and enticing enough for his own eyelids to flutter and his mouth to water a little. Perhaps more than a little but then, he had had the scent wafting on the entire scent home, which was getting relatively close now.

As in, he was in general area of Soho, though there was still some way to walk before he reached the part of Soho that was home. He had chosen to go a different direction than normal, as it was a better route for where he had finally managed to locate the thing he’d been after for Crowley.

The fact that it ought to have stopped wafting any kind of scent let alone one of just-come-out-of-the-oven was a minor matter which –

Aziraphale’s thoughts derailed quite suddenly and strongly. Came to a halt, as it were, though that too was somewhat failing to encapsulate the full impact of what he felt.

It wasn’t horrible. If anything, it was the exact opposite, to the point that it threatened to overwhelm and overpower him.

He staggered backwards for a few steps before recovering enough to stop and get himself upright. Well, mostly upright, at any rate, and he had to shoot an arm out to steady himself.

The people around him shot him odd looks but, as he didn’t seem to be in any danger, most continued past, with a few levelling a disapproving glance at him. One small man in a grey suit and a mac did come over to see whether he was alright, though, and he managed to smile and reassure him.

What he said to make the other believe him enough that he went away, he had absolutely idea. The important point was that he didn’t ask any further questions and left him, without calling for an ambulance or something similar.

Not that it wasn’t kind of him to check, of course, not to mention picking up the items the blond had dropped and making sure they were all in one piece, miraculously. That was undeniable, and he did his best to make sure that the man was left feeling his help was appreciated.

It was merely that…well, how could he possibly explain what the problem was?

To say that he had walked straight into a wall of – of love, quite frankly, would not be conducive to getting the man to leave. If anything, it was likely to have a different kind of car called.

Nevertheless, that was the truth of the matter.

Aziraphale had walked straight and true into a wall of love, with much the same impact and effect as a silent era movie star slamming into a pane of glass. He dared to suspect they’d had the same severely smarting face from it, though whether they had the tinkling in their nose and lips were something he wouldn’t speculate on.

He looked up and now that he was aware of what he was looking for, he could see it shimmering at the edge of his vision, a softness that sharpened at the same time as it blurred.

But that sort of visual representation of it was…that did not happen with any kind of love. And no, it had nothing to do with the size of the love. It might be the smallest of loves that showed the brightest and strongest. The truest, as it were.

There were certainly loves that were large and brash and yet were more cobweb-fine and just as hole-riddled as could be. Without substance, in other words.

For the most part, large or small, the love present at any given point was something that was felt rather than seen.

This, though? This was…goodness, there was little wonder that he’d walked into it as if it were a physical object, smarting face and staggering and all.

To be perfectly honest, he was astonished at the fact that people seemed to pass through it as though it was nothing of importance or didn’t exist at all.

Granted, he was a being of love and therefore was able to sense instances of it where humans would see or feel nothing at all, not even where one would’ve thought they’d feel it. It was often quite wonderful, sometimes it was unsettling and on rare occasions, it was crushing and depressing.

That being said, this was…this was of a kind that he would’ve thought everyone would sense. Would run smack into, in fact, to borrow another phrase, and yet, they not only passed through it, but did so as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.

As if it weren’t there at all, in fact.

Something so extraordinary as that and they couldn’t sense it? Even with the factor that this was London, it was more, or less as the case may be, than he would’ve ever expected from people.

How could they be so ignorant of it? It did not seem possible – oh.

No, they weren’t ignorant of it. They just weren’t aware of it.

That was to say, while they weren’t consciously aware of what was happening, quite a few of them had bodies that were and there was a lightness to their step and a softness to their expression that he would be willing to bet – were he not firmly against betting on general, angelic principle, that was – hadn’t been there when they’d stepped into the sphere.

Aziraphale, his arms slightly haphazardly full of the things he’d dropped or almost dropped and had been given back a bit too quickly, tried to move forward to give a further inspection.

He moved much more slowly and carefully than before so as to be sure he didn’t walk into anything. His nose was quite loud in its protests on that score.

A small part of him felt it really was most unfair that he should be hurt by something like that, in particular when humans passed through without any issue.

Then again, they didn’t get the full impact of it either, so he supposed it was a trade-off.

As he neared, the feeling of it intensified and he had to be careful he didn’t stagger again. It was just as potent as when he’d first bumped into it, it showed no sign of dissipating or even diminishing and as far as he could tell, it was very large indeed. So large that he couldn’t have said where its epicentre was.

Which was odd in itself. Large or small, to locate where a particular love came from was no effort at all for him, even though sometimes it really would’ve been nicer not to know. Normally, it was, at any rate. But this?

Stranger still was its strength. This was evidently the edge of it, which he could see with his very eyes, and yet, there was no indication that it was in terms of strength. Put another way, if this was the edge of it, presumably where it was the weakest, then he was almost afraid to know the strength of it at its epicentre.

Who could possibly be emanating a love as strong as that? It was almost of divine proportions, or so he would’ve said if he wasn’t more than aware that that didn’t mean much, or at least didn’t mean what it ought to mean.

He involuntarily looked upwards as he thought that but there didn’t seem to be anyone who had heard anything or otherwise taken notice. Or perhaps they were pointedly ignoring whatever they heard from him at this point in time. It amounted to the same thing, so he wasn’t going to complain.

As he’d looked up, he’d failed to see that someone was in a hurry. So much in a hurry, in fact, that they didn’t care where they went and certainly not where they were supposed to be.

Which meant that they’d mounted the pavement to now come barrelling down it, the pistons of their legs going as though the engine had to supply twice the intended capacity, without regard to where they might have to go through, or who, for that matter.

Including an apparently middle-aged man in a rather fastidious, old-fashioned suit and coat with his arms full, who happened to be standing straight in its path.

People around him were jumping and shouting. Someone was even pulling at his sleeve to try and get him out of the way in time. Unfortunately, there was no time, and in only a few more moments, bicycle and pedestrian would collide.

Only, it didn’t.

To the gaping bystanders, something rather miraculous happened; the bicycle swerved at the last moment, avoiding hitting the blond man by fractions of an inch, whereupon the wheel went on with its curve, so much so that it turned into something of a pirouette.

When it came to a halt, the cyclist was not only still on the bike but was standing, to his utter surprise and bewilderment, on top of the saddle, one foot resting on the saddle while the rest of his body stretched out in a rather graceful ballet pose, despite his suit not being made for that kind of manoeuvre at all.

He had never been to the ballet and wouldn’t have known one pose from another, let alone been able to perform one and yet, here he was. Not only was he doing it, he was holding it, and he felt an almost unbearable urge to go and practice, perhaps take up lessons.

Then reality seemed to return to him. More specifically, he became aware of all the people who were gaping at him and then of what he’d been doing before he’d…oh.

He flushed a nice burgundy colour and scrambled down. Someone took his hand and he involuntarily pirouetted. The colour in his cheeks turned almost plum. However, he didn’t stop.

“That does remind me, it’s been ages since I’ve been at the ballet,” he could hear someone mutter as they went past.

The cyclist, whose name was Bryan, because there is always someone who has to spice up even the most straightforward of names, thought there was something familiar about the outfit and the shape of the head as they went past but couldn’t place it.

In any case, they were past him before he had a chance to give them a proper scrutiny. The last thing he heard before the constant turning made him too dizzy to focus on anything was something along the lines of, “I wonder if I could persuade Crowley to go with me this time.”

For years afterwards, he was not only a ballet devotee, practising and dragging his wife with him to performances, but he kept having the feeling he’d been incredibly lucky in escaping something. Something which would’ve had dire consequences, for more than just himself.

As for Aziraphale, though he wasn’t as shaken as he possibly ought to have been, it had brought home to him that he couldn’t stand there gawping forever. He had a demon to return to.

While he walked, he got so wrapped up in his thoughts that he…not forgot the love that was all around him at this point, not quite. It was only that he didn’t notice when he stepped into it nor how natural it seemed once he stepped into it. Almost as if it disappeared from his conscious mind entirely once he was in its sphere.

Almost as if it were so familiar to him it slipped in and settled around him, entirely unnoticed and right.

Part of him.

#aziraphale/crowley #Ineffable Husbands #elphen fic #good omens fic #fanfic #Aziraphale #crowley

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missluthorwillseeyounow · 5 years ago

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Never To Touch And Never To Keep

Westenray AU (NBC Dracula)

A/N: So, here it is, the Westenray AU where Henry Cavill is Lucy’s beard. Fair warning, I didn’t really watch much of the show, just the Lucy scenes, and not even all of those. Basically, this is a peeled-back modern AU of the whole story, without the Dracula stuff. It’ll follow canon for a little bit, unfortunately *cringe* but I need a happy ending for my gays.

Also, this gets quite dark before it gets better. TW: gaslighting, attempted suicide, poisoning, and manipulation. Like for real, guys, I promise a happy ending, but if any of these trigger you, please don’t read it.

Lucy and Mina have been friends since they were fifteen. Lucy's father is an affluent businessman, and Lucy grows up with her every whim catered to. She’s at the center of everyone’s attention. All heads turn whenever she enters a room, and she accepts the adoration as her due.

She and Mina meet at boarding school, and the bond between the two girls is immediate.

That first year is spent in bare feet and nightgowns, dancing idly to Fleetwood Mac, drunk on youth and the vodka Lucy stole from the headmistress’ office. In the acrid scent of illicit cigarettes being passed from one to the other, and the soft curve of Mina’s lips under Lucy’s fingers whenever she slips the cigarette into Mina’s mouth.

Mina is quiet and earnest, where Lucy is vivacious and impertinent. Mina gently chastises her when she breaks yet another boy’s heart, and Lucy merely laughs.

And when Mina breaks Lucy’s heart and falls in love with Jonathan Harker, Lucy just laughs and laughs, and cruelly breaks another boy’s heart in retaliation.

Between the two of them, Mina is the more logical one, whose head and heart are grounded and centered, while Lucy is a creature of flight and fancy -- the one who flits from one thing to another, the charming social butterfly who lights up any room she walks into and creates a spectacle to hide every insecurity she keeps inside.

Lucy lives with bravado, but retreats behind a glittering mask. Mina, she thinks, is the one who is actually brave, the one who is unafraid to live her life as herself.

At the time of this AU, they’re around 21, and Mina and Jonathan are engaged. They're still quite young, but they've been together for years. The "perfect couple", it was only a matter of time before they got married.

Mina is in med school at this time, when she meets Alexander Grayson.

Grayson is a wealthy businessman, the new owner of the hospital where Mina’s father had practiced before he died. He encounters Mina once, at a benefit for the hospital’s cancer ward. Mina speaks to him in her gentle, forthright way, and Grayson is immediately drawn to her.

The encounter leaves an indelible mark on Grayson, and he decides he has to have her.

He’s no stranger to manipulation, and he comes at the problem on all sides. The key, he knows, is isolation. If she has no one left to turn to, Mina will come to him.

Harker, he thinks, is easy enough. With his uncertain finances, the young man is insecure and doubts his place in Mina’s esteem or at least in her social circles. It’s easy enough to see in the way his teeth grit and his jaw tightens whenever Lucy delightedly plucks on this particular insecurity like a note well-played.

Grayson buys into Harker’s graces through his wealth, offers him a career in which he can succeed. The work keeps Harker rewarded and therefore docile, out of the shadow Mina’s condescending friends, and high on his own sense of self-importance for the first time in his life.

His seduction of Mina, however, requires more thought and subtlety. He applies himself to discovering more about her, the things that interest her and resonate with her.

He finds out about her admiration and respect for a prestigious doctor, Gabriel van Helsing, and he extorts van Helsing into offering his mentorship to Mina. He finds out about her passion for helping children and starts a charity for children in need, and offers her the chance to be more involved in the project.

Through it all, Grayson places himself as the supposed catalyst of her advancement.

And Mina, grounded though she is, is still fallible. Grayson seems to her a kind man, misunderstood by some perhaps because of his brooding disposition, but still -- a good man. And he is attractive, that’s undeniable. Enigmatic, charming in a mysterious way.

Slowly, but surely, Mina is lured in.

Because Grayson presents himself as a pleasant and urbane gentleman, most people rarely suspect him of anything nefarious.

Except for Lucy.

Like recognizes like, and Lucy has used her own charm to get her way enough times to know when people use it for their own machinations.

Grayson knows that Lucy is less susceptible to his manipulations and will be more difficult to eliminate as competition.

However, he learns that his intervention is not required. Someone like Lucy, whose emotions overrule even her own penchant for manipulation, will set her own self on fire. All it takes is a few whispers in Mina’s ear, and Lucy orchestrates her own destruction.

Lucy has been hiding her feelings for years, and she's become adept at it. But Grayson’s arrival has thrown Mina into turmoil and by extension, Lucy is thrown into turmoil as well.

And Lucy, when backed into a corner, always lashes out. She barely hides her resentment for Grayson, alienating herself from Mina, who thinks so highly of him, for the first time in their friendship. Not even her disparaging of Jonathan had lowered her in Mina’s esteem, but this causes the first real point of contention between the two of them.

For the first time, Lucy feels her slipping away, and her reflexive response is to pull closer, fearing the loss of Mina in her life. She holds fast to the bond between her and Mina, and clings to her friend.

And one night -- an ordinary night that finds Lucy stretched out on Mina’s bed as usual, their faces inches apart as they seek each other under Mina’s covers like they always do -- Lucy, grateful that no matter what contention they have about one man, they still find each other, becomes brave enough, desperate enough to close that familiar distance between them and press her lips to Mina’s.

"We could be so much more.... I've always loved you, Mina."

"Has our whole friendship been a pretense?!?"

Grayson’s insidious whispers flare in Mina’s mind, and every moment of their friendship is called into question. Every embrace, every sweet word, and every barb thrown at Jonathan viewed in the light of this new and terrifying revelation.

"You need to leave."

And leave Lucy does, feeling small and worthless and hollow, as if a crater has opened up in the middle of her chest. This is not a feeling she knows -- not this shame and this hurt and this dejection.

She’s suffered for Mina before, the heartache of seeing the woman she loves in love with another. But this.... it feels as if all the love she’d kept in her heart has been spit back at her in acid.

It rankles at her skin, and claws at her pride, and so Lucy does what she knows best. She claws back.

Harker is almost laughably easy, a pawn Lucy moves with disturbing ease -- she almost feels sorry for Mina that she loved a man whose loyalty can break with a pair of tear-filled eyes and a silk robe. Almost.

When Mina catches them together, as planned, Lucy catches Mina's eye with a level look over Jonathan's shoulder. She pushes Jonathan off, his erection twitching unsatisfied between them. Lucy rises to her feet, slipping on her silk robe -- never taking her eyes off Mina -- then brushes past her without another word.

And Mina... Mina knows Lucy. She knows how cruel she can be, and has long accepted it as a part of her, but never has that cruelty been directed at her.

This, more than anything, seals it all in Mina’s mind.

The two most important people in her life have betrayed her, and it feels as if the very foundations of the life she’s known until now have been shaken.

The only person she can confide in, who listens to her and comforts her with a solemn touch of a hand, is Grayson.

And Grayson thinks, now that he has her, he means to keep her.

He makes her happy, makes her smile and laugh, builds her back up when her life is at its lowest. When she cries at her losses, he embraces her, and bids her forget about them.

A year later, Mina discovers she’s pregnant, and her Alexander is overjoyed. It’s a difficult pregnancy and keeps her weak and bed-ridden for most of it. Through it all, Alexander is the one person she can depend on.

It’s an even more difficult birth, but Mina immediately falls in love with her baby. But her pregnancy took its toll on her body, and she’s still having a hard time bouncing back. Her energy flags more and more, and at first, she attributes it to the enormous stress of juggling her studies and a new baby. She's just stressed, Alexander says, maybe they should go for a vacation.

A vacation smack in the middle of her training?? It’s unthinkable at first, but as Mina finds herself more and more fatigued, she relents. Perhaps it will do her good.

During the vacation, without the stress of med school and all the worries at home, Mina finally has some time to think about her old life before this whirlwind romance she’s found herself in. As much as she loves Alexander and their baby, she knows there are some things that were left unresolved, and she’s been covering them up long enough.

When they return from the vacation, Mina begins to write letters:

Dear Lucy,

You cannot imagine how much I long to see you again. Today will make it a year, nine months and fifteen days since we last saw each other. I can't believe it's been that long. Remember when we had that fight in chemistry class and you didn't speak to me for three days? Before our separation, that was the longest we'd ever been apart. I miss those days.

Every letter I have sent to you has returned unread and unopened. I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore, and after the way I treated you, I wouldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again. But still, it doesn't erase the yearning to see your face again.

I miss the nights we would sleep in each other's beds, talking until midnight. Your face -- your dear, loving eyes and your beloved smile -- would be the last thing I saw before falling asleep, and the first thing to wake me in the morning. I never knew what a blessing that was, until I was deprived of such a gift.

Too much has happened. We both hurt each other, I know. You hurt me -- yes, it still hurts -- but I know, I hurt you first. I realize now that what you did was born out of anger and deep pain, because of what I did.

You were never anything but loving toward me. My sweetest friend who always stood by me, always lifted me up, and gave me whatever happiness you could. With others you were always so cold, so cruel, that I could hardly believe you were the same person, because with me, you were so soft, and you took such great care to be gentle.

And I cast you aside. I treated you as if your love as something to be ashamed of, when really, I did not deserve any of it. You betrayed me out of pain, but I betrayed you without provocation. And I am so sorry. God, if you could only know how much I regret everything I said that night...

My infant daughter is sleeping beside me as I write this. My daughter, Lucy. Can you believe it?

She is so beautiful. She has a shock of jet-black hair that is resistant to combing (I can already tell we will have problems with that), and such mesmerizing grey eyes, and the cheekiest smile. She reminds me of you, but that might be because I love her so much.

I've named her Lucy Alexandra Grayson. After Alexander, and after you. Her father likes to call her Alexandra. I'm afraid he doesn't like your name, my dear, but he can't stop me. I've taken to calling her Lucky, as I confess, there has only ever been one Lucy for me, and always will be.

And anyway, Alexander is far too happy, spending time with the baby. He's so proud of her, and it makes me happy to see Alexander happy. He spends all day with us, and is devoted to me and my happiness. He tells me every day that Lucky and I are everything to him.

Oh, Lucy dear, if you could only know the joy I feel at this moment. I wish you were here so i could share this with you. I so wish that you could see Lucky. If you did, you would love her, I know. She is perfection. I can hardly believe that she came from me. That I made something so beautiful and precious.

Oh, Lucy, today my joy knows no bounds, save for one. I feel as if you should be here. Your presence, as warm and sorely missed as it is, would complete my happiness.

Love, Mina.

Mina feels better during the vacation, but when they get back home, she becomes worse. Fatigue sets in quickly, and she gets daily headaches so bad that she has to stay home. She finally admits that her body is having a hard time bouncing back and handling the stress of it all, and after spending several sleepless weeks thinking about it, Mina finally agrees when Alexander suggests she take a break from medical school. This way, she can stay home and rest. Her body can recuperate, and she’ll have more time with Lucky.

What she doesn’t know is that her symptoms are not part of an illness. Grayson has been slowly introducing medication into her system. Nothing life-threatening, or anything that would raise alarms. He’s much too careful for that. But enough that its effects keep her weak and drained of energy

After they returned from their vacation and Mina had expressed her desire to reconcile with Lucy, Grayson had decided that it wasn’t safe yet to stop drugging her, and so the small doses of the medication resumed.

As for the letters, Lucy never receives any of them. Grayson makes sure of it. He even takes precautions to make sure that every email, every text is blocked. Now that Lucy has excised herself out of Mina’s life, he’ll make sure she remains that way.

As for Lucy herself, in the passing years since their separation, she’s made quite a few changes.

Lucy has always been... aware of the effect she has on people. She knows she appears as a charming coquette, and as she makes her own way in the world, she uses that to her advantage. In fact, she delights in it.

She rarely lets anyone see how clever she is until it's too late, and by then, she's already destroying their lives or their reputations. It makes people underestimate her abilities, and she gets to still play in her glittering little world.

Lucy meets Nick at a friend’s bachelorette party.

When they first meet, he’s a stripper hired for the night.

It would have been easy to dismiss him then, but Lucy, clever as she is, sees his potential and cleans him up.

She had been planning on using Nick’s past as a stripper and her role as his benefactor to hold over him as blackmail if needed, but she soon realizes that he genuinely does not give a fuck about that.

“What are you getting out of this, then?”

“Aside from the suits and the Maserati? Honestly, I’m just along for the ride. This beats dancing Friday nights at Hunk-O-Rama. Besides, you’re cute.”

Lucy laughs derisively. “You’re not my type.”

Nick throws his head back and laughs even louder. “I have a feeling you don’t hear this a lot, but you’re not my type either.”

Aside from Mina, it’s easily the closest relationship Lucy has ever had. Nick is one of the few people perceptive enough to really see her, and surprisingly enough, he’s not enamored by her. Which works well enough for both of them.

Nick sees Lucy for the mess that she is. When they’re not in public, he treats her like an annoying, reckless little sister, and it amuses him to watch her wreak havoc and play her little games. When she doesn’t annoy the crap out of him.

Nick, however, knows very little about Mina.

All he knows is that she’s a sore subject. He's deduced by now that Lucy was in love with her, but beyond that, he lets Lucy keep her secrets.

As for Mina, over the years, Grayson’s manipulations become more and more overt, and it becomes harder and harder for her to leave.

As Lucky grows up, Alexander showers her with affection and spoils her, making the little girl devoted to him. “Daddy’s little girl” he calls her.

"Mummy, why are you and Daddy fighting?"

"Daddy wasn't being nice."

“But Mummy, Daddy's the nicest! He loves us. He says so all the time."

Mina tries to leave once, when Lucky is 7 years old. She tries to take Lucky with her, but her daughter runs to Grayson and clings to him. “No! I want to stay with Daddy!”

And Grayson levels Mina a look, daring her to separate her child from her father, or leave her behind.

From then on, Grayson keeps Lucky close. She hears him whispering things into the child’s ear (”Mummy’s sick. She’s not well.”) and it reminds her so forcibly of the things he used to whisper in her ear.

That’s when she knows. She has to leave, for her daughter’s sake.

She takes some of the pills she keeps in the cupboard, carefully calculates enough to make her sick but not kill herself. She only needs enough to be taken to the ER, and put in a temporary psych hold.

It's dangerous, her plan. She could actually kill herself, and if she's on psych hold, Lucky will be left alone with Alexander, and though she's sure Alexander won't hurt her, because Lucky is his bargaining chip to get Mina back, she can’t be sure of what he’ll be putting into her daughter’s head.

Her attempt fails when Grayson brings in a doctor friend of his to help her instead of taking her to the hospital

He performs gastric lavage on her at home to flush the drugs from her stomach. As Mina lies on her bed, lethargic with the tube in her nose, Alexander grips her wrist and murmurs under his breath "You are everything to me. I won’t let you go."

As Mina recovers, she finds herself locked in her room. She asks in vain for Lucky, but Alexander’s only reply is that “She shouldn’t have to see her mother like this.”

Days pass, and the sense of urgency and panic rises, unstoppable, in Mina’s throat like bile. She knows she has no choice. When she’s strong enough, she pushes herself out of bed, locks the door to buy herself time, and breaks one of the windows. She picks up one of the shards, and thinking of her beautiful little girl, Mina cuts through the flesh of her wrists.

It takes a while before Grayson and the doctor realize what she’s done, and she loses enough blood that the doctor decides she needs to go to the hospital or she will going to die.

Once she's at the hospital, she asks a kind nurse to contact Lucy, but she’s told that Lucy’s number is unlisted. The nurse tries the business number, but gets the usual run-around.

And so, as a last resort, Mina gives the nurse the address to Lucy’s family home, hoping and praying that someone there -- Lucy’s father or her mother -- will see her name and remember it. Then she gives the nurse a bundle of letters. The ones that were returned unopened, and the ones she wrote but didn't send because she knew by now Lucy wouldn't read them.

The nurse kindly agrees, and Mina wishes she could tell her everything, that it could help her and her daughter. But Alexander is too influential, and he has Lucky with him, and Mina will not risk her daughter.

The letters are forwarded to Lucy. Nick hands them to her over the breakfast table. But when Lucy hears who they’re from, she goes silent and refuses to open them.

"Do what you want with them. Take them, or they'll end up in the fire. I won't read them."

Nick reads them. The next day, he approaches Lucy again, letters in hand. "The letters, that Mina wrote you..."

Lucy doesn't even look up from her cup of coffee. Her jaw twitches. "I don't want to hear it."

The letters drop onto the table next to her plate. "I think she may need your help. I think she's being abused."

Lucy applies herself to recovering Mina and Lucky, as well as sinking Alexander Grayson, like Nick has never seen her apply herself to anything before.

Nick loses track of how many people Lucy bribes, threatens or blackmails to get Grayson arrested and the charges to stick, or how long it takes for her to get Grayson’s properties seized and his assets frozen.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s seen Grayson’s face in the news, getting condemned and absolutely dragged by every news outlet Lucy and her family have access to.

Nick also has no idea know how she managed to get a decent-sized portion of Grayson’s fortune back for Mina and Lucky -- and honestly, given Lucy’s pervasive, systematic destruction of everything Alexander Grayson holds dear, he’s kind of afraid to ask.

As Lucy’s “business face”, Nick has to field everyone from the press to the lawyers. Fortunately for them, he’s a competent son of a bitch, and he tells Lucy the one time she’d asked "Don't worry about it, kid. Your family is my family."

Lucy doesn't quite know what to respond to -- the declaration that Nick considers her family, or that he thinks Mina is her family. "They're not my family."

"Sure, whatever you say, babe." Nick just laughs and walks away. "Oh, and I better get a raise after this."

Nick, however, does suspect that Lucy’s almost manic focus on sinking Grayson to the mud is at least partly so that she doesn’t have to deal with Mina being back. The fact that she had stashed Mina and Lucky in one of her summer homes, hidden away from her, is evidence enough of that.

Lucy says it’s to keep them out of the public eye, and while that’s true enough, there is also some truth to Nick’s theory.

Ruining Grayson is easy. Revenge is easier and altogether more satisfying that hashing out old feelings that never really died -- just got shoved to the back of her mind, and only came up whenever Lucy was with another woman and, instead of red hair, she'd see Mina's black curls; or when she said the wrong name in the throes of an orgasm.

And looking across the courtroom at Grayson with a triumphant smile on her face is infinitely easier than looking Mina in the eye.

Lucy puts off visiting the summer house as long as she can. But she has to eventually, to let Mina know how the trials went

For once, Lucy, the social butterfly who can charm birds off trees, has no idea what to say. Mina is quiet too. She wants to tease Lucy for her awkwardness, and if it had been 8 years ago and the Lucy of old, she would have.

Now all she can really do is stare at Lucy and drink her in, cataloging every feature that has changed or remained the same

In the end, Lucky saves them. The little girl looks up at Lucy with a sweet smile "Hi! You're Lucy!"

Lucy can only stare at her for a second before shaking herself with a nod. "I am."

"We have the same name! But my Mummy calls me Lucky."

Lucy finally meets Mina's eye. "So I've heard."

Lucky quickly warms to Lucy, and Lucy, who has never spent more than an hour with any person younger than herself, finds herself feeling strangely attached to the child.

Lucky is what brings Lucy and Mina together.

In truth, they're each so desperate to know the other again, to somehow find their way back to how things were before that night. They've both changed so much, but they both want to see how much has remained the same, how much they can still salvage and patch together.

It's too much to say, but too much to leave unsaid, so they focus the affection they can't give the other on Lucky

Lucy and Mina are never quite alone together at first. Lucky is usually a buffer between them

Then one day, Lucy brings Lucky a whole new wardrobe of dresses and Lucky tries them on for her and Mina one at a time. As Lucky flounces off to change into another sparkly tulle dress, Mina chuckles, “Remember that time we got drunk and we snuck into the the props room in school and tried on all of the costumes for ‘Hamlet’?”

Lucy smiles. "I remember having to drag you there because you were too scared of getting caught.”

"And I remember you trying on every gaudy thing you could find. Just like Lucky.” Mina laughs, her eyes softening. “I swear, sometimes I think she's your child."

Lucy looks away for a second, but Mina murmurs "She reminded me so much of you all those years."

Lucy hides the tremor in her voice behind an arrogant smirk. "She's amazing then."

Mina looks at her, eyes clear and bright. "She is."

Nick joins them some weekends, and Lucky adores him almost as much as Lucy. On one particular visit, he comes bearing some “sensitive information” for Lucy.

When Mina had first been rescued, she had asked Nick if he had any information on Jonathan Harker. When he reported this to Lucy, she had tasked Nick to find him. Not out of sentimentality for the man, she couldn't care less about Harker. But for Mina...

Nick finds Lucy and Mina in the sunroom, talking quietly. Mina is reaching over to brush a non-existent stray hair out of Lucy's face, and Lucy is smiling in a way Nick has never seen before. Gentle, almost tender.

And this is the woman who has left a trail of broken hearts a mile long behind her.

Nick almost doesn't interrupt them -- but then Mina leans forward, bringing her that much closer to Lucy... And the smile disappears on Lucy's face like water evaporating. She pulls away abruptly, her eyes sliding away from Mina's to find Nick in the doorway.

He holds up the folder for her to see. Lucy rises and leads him to her office, where they won't be overheard. When Nick hands her folder, she scans it silently, her jaw tight. The file contains all of Harker's information, including how to contact him.

"He's unmarried and working as a writer for a newspaper."

Lucy closes the folder and hands it to Nick, her eyes stony. "Give it to her."

Nick blinks and pauses. "Are you su--"

Lucy silences him with a sharp look that berates him for daring to question her. "Give it to her."

Nick's lips narrow. "Yes, ma'am."

Lucy cringes inwardly. She knows she was a little bit too blunt with Nick, but honestly she's in no mood to be nice. "Oh, and have my team prepare the jet."

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here."

Lucy flies off to see a frequent bedfellow in Paris for a week. She heads to Italy for another the next week. By the time she gets back, she’s informed her that Mina and Lucky are gone. Nick tells her that he gave Mina the file on Jonathan and she left the next day.

Lucy arrives home to an empty summer house, and finds that she misses Mina and Lucky too much. She misses Lucky's mischievous giggles and Mina's light laughter. She misses having tea with Mina in the sunroom, and sitting in the library while Lucky reads her old children's books to her.

She misses the days spent on the lake, Lucky swinging into the water from the old rope on the tree, and somehow managing to coax Lucy along with her, while Mina, quietly radiant in her white linen dress, sips tea and watches them from the dock. She used to laugh whenever Lucy and Lucky emerged dripping wet from the lake, hair stringy and waterlogged, dresses stuck uncomfortably to their skin, but having the time of their lives.

Everyday there just reminds her more of what she doesn't have anymore. So she goes back to her home in the city. It's not much better there, but at least there aren't any reminders of Mina or Lucky there

Mina calls her several times, but Lucy ignores each call.

When they were younger, she used to listen to Mina talk about her relationship with Harker, not a secret between them, except one. And Lucy was just content to listen because it kept her in Mina's life.

And while she doesn't want to lose Mina again, she thinks she's grown up enough to set limits on what she can or will take. And she doesn't think she can take hearing about Mina's new life with Jonathan. How she's rebuilding her old life with him, and shaping her new one around it.

She does allow herself some bitterness over the thought of how perfect that new little family would be. Mina and her old love, Jonathan, a perfect new father for Lucky, to replace the twisted one she got.

It's perfect for them, she thinks. Absolutely fucking meant to be. A happy ending after the hell Mina went through. She deserves that, Lucy thinks as she downs yet another glass of wine

And Lucy bets that within the next six months, she'll receive a call from Mina asking her to be her bridesmaid. A year later, Lucky will be getting a new brother or sister.

On nights like these, when Lucy drowns herself in enough wine to numb the crater in chest, Nick has to scoop her up and take her home himself.

On one such night, she doesn't come home to an empty house. Mina's waiting for her there. She follows Nick to Lucy's room then gives him a small smile. "I'll take it from here."

Lucy is half passed out, but Mina manages to get her to drink some water and helps her change out of her clothes. Then she tucks Lucy under her covers and slips in with her.

Lucy's eyes open blearily, "Aren't you going back home to Jonathan and Lucky?"

Mina smiles at her. "I left Lucky with my cousin, and I'm sure Jonathan can manage without me."

Lucy mutters something into her pillow.

"What was that?"

"He doesn't deserve you."

Mina brushes her hair back "Then who does?"

"No one."

"You think too highly of me."

"Rightly so."

"Even after..... even after the way I treated you that night?"

"That night wasn't your fault," Lucy mumbles sleepily, voice slurred from the wine. In vino veritas. "It was my fault. It was me -- my feelings. I was responsible for them, not you. I was doing so well before that, and you, you my darling brilliant Mina, are so stupid when it comes to love. You would never have known anything if I hadn't opened my stupid mouth - or kissed you with it."

Mina's eyes search hers in the dim light. "Would you never have told me? Would you have kept it a secret from me forever?"

Lucy nods, making herself slightly dizzy. Her eyes close and she murmurs. "If I could go back, I would never have kissed you."

Mina doesn't speak for a while. She just listens to the sound of Lucy's breathing even out to sleep. She just stares at Lucy. "It's funny. I often think about things I regretted about that night. I regretted the way I acted toward you, the things I said.... But that kiss was the one thing I never regretted."

When they were at the summer house, there were several moments when Mina almost got carried away and kissed her, her eyes flicking down to Lucy's lips, lush and candy-pink. She's spent nights reliving that kiss over the years, trying to recall details of it, but it's been blurred by time and guilt and confusion.

She wonders how she never knew how Lucy felt. She wonders if Alexander hadn't been manipulating her, if she would have said the things she did. If she hadn't been so in love with Jonathan then, would she have kissed Lucy back?

She looks at Lucy now and wonders if she would taste the same.

But every time Mina lets any hint of these thoughts show on her face, Lucy looks away.

Lucy -- who, even after all these years and all this turmoil, has opened her heart and home to her and her daughter -- shows all the fear of a trapped animal whenever Mina looks at her with want in her eyes, and closes herself off.

Mina knows she's damaged that beyond repair. Lucy -- dear Lucy who never kept a secret from her but this one -- showed one moment of vulnerability and Mina had all but slapped her in the face

And she still knows Lucy well. Lucy always lashes out from hurt at first, but after, she hides in dark corners where no one can see, like a heart-hurt little kitten seeking the comfort and safety of being unseen.

So she doesn't bring it up in the morning, when Lucy pads softly into the kitchen where Mina is making her breakfast and the hangover remedy she came up with in college.

Lucy looks up at her gratefully, if a little confused. Her eyes are a little cloudy, and her perfect hair tousled just enough for Mina to want to run her hands through the golden mess.

She knows she can. This is Lucy, and since they were teenagers, touch has been a language between them. Mina's heart twinges, and she wonders if this is how Lucy felt all those years ago, wanting to touch her as she always does, but this time with a lover's hand, each nerve ending coming alive with the stark difference.

Lucy watches her with a question on her lips that Mina can almost see, even as she hesitates, her mouth fearful and unwilling to open.

Mina reassures her with a gentle smile as she places a plate of Lucy's favorite scrambled eggs in front of her. She leans forward and kisses the top of her head. They don't have to talk about it now.

Hope is a cruel thing to entertain, she knows from years living with Alexander. And she knows that sometimes the best defense from it is to reject it.

And right now, she knows they're both brimming with it. The rigidly suppressed hope in Lucy's eyes, marshaled by years of emotions never expressed, and the answering hope in Mina that prays she still feels the same way

This is not a conversation that can be had while Lucy is hungover and barely awake. Lucy waited for her for years before that kiss, then the duty of waiting fell to Mina. She thinks she can wait a little bit longer for Lucy.

After breakfast, when her wits are more collected, Lucy sits with her feet curled up on the wicker love seat, and Mina sits opposite her. Lucy's no longer drunk, but she nurses a cup of tea in both hands, gripping the porcelain as if her life depends on it

"Why are you here, Mina? Shouldn't you be at home with Jonathan and Lucky?"

Mina regards her with a tranquil look. "I told you, Lucky is at my cousin's place. And Jonathan... I don't know where Jonathan is."

At that, Lucy looks up. "What do you mean?"

Mina shrugs. "I haven't seen him since the day I went to visit him."

"Haven't you moved in with him by now?"

Mina casts her an exasperated look. "I've been living with my cousin for the past few weeks. You would know that if you answered any of my phone calls."

Lucy is quiet, and Mina ducks her head so she can meet Lucy's eye. "Did you think I moved in with Jonathan?"

Lucy looks up at her, and there's something almost accusatory in her green eyes. "You went back to him."

Mina gives her a level look. "Of course I went back to him. I loved him for years, Lucy. I owed it to Jonathan to see him again. We were together since we were teenagers! We were engaged to be married, before Alexander. I owed it to myself."

Lucy has turned away again, not wanting to meet her eye, and Mina wants to shake her. "..... But Lucy, above all that, I owed it to you."

“Me?? You went back to your old lover for me?" Lucy scoffs, tears forming in her crystal eyes. Her voice breaks, but Lucy is always Lucy, and her words bite back, even if she's hurt -- especially when she's hurt.

"Forgive my skepticism, Mina, but I fail to understand how returning to the man you loved first, the man who could have given you everything I never could -- the first man you chose over me -- could possibly be about me."

"Because!" MIna can feel her voice rising out of desperation and frustration and anger and love at this woman who owns her heart now. "Because you deserve the truth.... Because you deserve to look me in the eye and know beyond a doubt that I'm telling the truth when I say I choose you. Not Jonathan. Not Alexander. You."

Lucy's mouth drops open, and Mina feels a sense of satisfaction that she has managed to render Lucy Westenra, of all people, speechless.

"I went to see Jonathan, I let him hold me in his arms, and I knew that what I feel for him, even what I felt for him then is not even half of what I feel for you. After all these years. After everything we've all been through -- you are the one I choose.... It might not mean anything at all to you now, after what I did to you, but I know now without a single doubt that it's the truth. And so do you. I choose you, Lucy."

Lucy just stares at Mina, her eyes wide. Her hands are shaking so much, Mina fears the tea in her cup will spill. She crosses the room and kneels down in front of her chair. She takes the cup carefully from Lucy’s hands and sets it down.

Lucy has looked away from her again, like she does now whenever Mina tells her the truth, with her eyes or her words. Mina almost sighs, because she was right. She has damaged this beyond repair.

But then, Lucy's trembling fingers catch her own in a fearful, hopeful grip. "Please tell me it's real. Tell me you're telling the truth."

“Oh, Lucy...” Mina reaches up and her fingers curling around the nape of Lucy's neck. She brings their foreheads together, until she can practically taste the salt of Lucy's tears. "I love you. I'm so in love with you."

Finally she kisses her, the taste of Lucy touching her lips, unadulterated by blurry memory and guilt. This time, it's Lucy who hesitates, who is still beneath Mina's mouth, and Mina knows the terror of Lucy that night, whispers the same prayers Lucy did into the kiss of so many years ago.

Then Lucy's mouth parts beneath her with a soft sobbing moan, and bliss floods Mina's whole body. She never knew bliss tasted like Lucy and her tears. She laughs into the kiss, her own tears slipping from her closed eyes to Lucy's waiting lips.

Lucy's hands, greedy and fearful, grip onto her dress and haul her up into the chair above her. The love seat is small and cramped, but Mina doesn't care, not when Lucy holds her like she's never ever going to let go, like she's afraid Mina will change her mind.

She imagines that it will take some time, for Lucy to truly believe that she's here to stay. So Mina holds her gently and firmly, like a cherished thing, pushes her down into the soft cushion of the chair just so Lucy can feel her weight, the permanence of her and her choice.

Mina will wait and she'll show her. She will show Lucy every single day of the rest of their lives.

#westenray #lucy westenra #mina murray #katie mcgrath #jessica de gouw #dracula #westenray au #i am tired and aware that this is a mess #ANOTHER night without sleep w00t w00t #my writing #tw: abuse #tw: suicide #tw: poisoning

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loveisblindfanfictionbka · 4 years ago

Text

Love Is Blind: Epilogue

One Year Later

Robyn sighed as Chris gently massaged her shoulders, “What aren’t you good at?”

Chris chuckled as he placed a kiss at the top of her spine, “I haven’t found anything I can’t do, that’s why you keep me around.”

“I cannot disagree with that.”

“How you feeling?”

“Better. I hate that my balance is still off after all this time.”

“It’s not really noticeable, you just have a moment every once in a while. No big deal.”

“Nice way to say I’m clumsy as hell.”

Chris laughed, “you are not clumsy, Baby.”

“You’re my husband, of course you’d say that.”

“I’m your husband,” Chris repeated with a laugh.

“Is that all you heard me say?”

“That’s all that matters. I don’t care about you being clumsy, you fall, I catch you. That’s how we work anyway.”

“We’re married, you don’t have to keep sweet-talking me.”

“I will never stop”

“That still feels weird saying that.”

“What?”

“Married. We were divorced for seven years and now look at us.”

Chris chuckled, “we are the best thing that’s ever happened to each other.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Babe, can you pass me the lotion please?”

Chris secured a towel around his waist as he grabbed the large jar of body butter, “Nope. I’ll do it.”

“You do know my hands work?”

“I know but I’m gonna rub you down anyway. I love this time.”

Robyn folded the towel in between her breasts then followed Chris back into their bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed as Chris sat down on the fall in front of her. He lifted her foot onto his lap before he opened the jar and scooped some of the body butter into his palm then began rubbing it into her skin.

“You know what I think about sometimes?” Robyn asked.

“What?”

“Your vows.”

“My vows? Seriously?”

“Yes. Why do you sound surprised?”

“That’s not the first thing I anticipated you saying, that’s all.”

“You said a lot that I wasn’t expecting. It was very poetic.”

“Well, I’ve always had a way with words according to you.”

“I have said that before, huh?”

“Yes. Want to know a secret?”

“You better not tell me somebody else wrote your vows.”

Chris chuckled, “Nah, I wrote it, I just didn’t write it all recently.”

“Really? When did you write it?”

“Years ago, it was one of my therapy assignments. I had to write a letter to you regarding your influence on my life. I added a few things that were relative to our new wedding but most of it was written back then.”

“Babe, that was almost ten years ago.”

“I know.”

“And you held on to it all this time?”

“It was something you needed to hear, using it as my vows just seemed to be the perfect time.”

“Can you recite it for me again?”

“All of it?”

“Whatever you can remember.”

Chris smiled as he moved to her other leg and began to rub body butter into it, “I don’t know if it was fate or just divine timing but your face being the first face I saw as I walked into my elementary school classroom to your face being the last face I’ll see before I close my eyes every night was definitely not an accident. There was something about the way you always looked at me that made me feel important and worthy. It was different from the way I’d ever been looked at before and even then, at ten years old, unable to describe the feeling but knowing I felt something all the same, I fell in love with you. I couldn’t verbalize it but I tried to show it in the best way my ten year old brain knew how. So I catered to you, I protected you, I cherished you and you did the same for me. The stability I had always hoped for, you gave to me. If someone had told me then that I’d be marrying you for the second time now, I’d think they were crazy. Everyone knows this is our second time saying I do but I feel like saying I will would be more appropriate. I will, to illustrate future promises and acknowledge that now is not the only time we should be concerned about. I was concerned about now when I let you go over 7 years ago but the future matters just the same. I will continue to protect you. I will continue to care for you. For our babies. Our family. I will continue to take care of you. I will continue to honor you and in turn honor myself. I owe you a lifetime, a lifetime I promised you years ago, a lifetime I wasn’t strong enough to give you before but that I’m strong enough to give you now.”

Chris stood from his position on the floor and gently pulled Robyn up then gathered her in his arms. He rested his cheek against hers as he continued speaking in a soft whisper, “Those green eyes haunted me. Your smile hung over my shoulder like a picture on a wall. Your touch gently pushed me into the direction to better myself. I’m ready to be all you want me to be as well as what I want me to be. For our babies. For our relationship. For our love. This isn’t so much a second chance but a continuation of where we had already been. I knew the moment I saw you again that we would be here and I also knew you’d fight yourself all the way but the day you saw that this was always meant to be, I’d knew you’d melt into me as you always did. There is nothing in my life that I ever wanted more than to give you what I owed you. And with this ring, I thee wed. And with this ring, I will continue to be all you need me to be.”

His skin absorbed the haphazard tear that fell down Robyn’s cheek in between their pressed flesh. His hand smoothed along her expanded waist and across her swollen belly. The warmth of the new life growing inside her was felt through the towel. Their third blessing, unexpected and scary but a blessing nonetheless, moved as Chris’s fingertips gently pressed a pattern against their home. Robyn held onto him tighter as her emotions settled, “how’d you know my favorite parts?”

“They made you cry at our ceremony too.”

“That is very true.”

“The baby is moving.”

“I felt it. The baby always moves when Daddy’s near.”

“You been feeling ok?”

“Yea. I’m not on bed rest this time so I’m a little bit more optimistic this time around.”

Chris leaned back from her face and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. Robyn leaned forward and pecked his lips, “this wasn’t supposed to be that emotional.”

“We’ve been married for a year, if I can still draw it out of you then I’m doing something very right.”

Robyn laughed as she kissed him again, “you’ve always been my weakness, Christopher.”

“And you’ve always been my strength. I guess we’re just a perfect match.”

“I’m already pregnant, Sir.”

“And?”

“And you don’t have to keep sweet-talking me like this.”

“But I’ma do it anyway.”

Chris pressed a soft kiss to the middle of her forehead before he rested his chin on top of her head, “you ready for bed?”

“Yea. Can you get a nightshirt for me?”

“Yup. Anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

Chris left into their walk-in closet while Robyn sat back down on the bed.

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

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Robyn turned her head as she heard Anesa’s voice heading in her direction. The 4 year old ran into the living room and jumped on the couch next to her mother. Sweetly lying her head against Robyn’s shoulder, “hi Mommy!”

“Hi Baby Girl. What’s going on? You sound so excited.”

“Daddy says we can go with you to find out what the baby is. He says I don’t have to go to school that day”

“Oh. Now me and Daddy didn’t discuss that part.”

“That’s because I didn’t say that part. Right Anesa?”

Robyn chuckled as Chris walked into the living room with Christian asleep in his arms. Anesa tucked her head further into Robyn’s body, “I was just hoping, Daddy.”

“Well Ms. Anesa,” Chris replied as he sat down on the loveseat that was situated perpendicular to the couch Robyn and Anesa was on, “Mommy’s appointment is in the afternoon, after you get out of school so you don’t have to miss school for anything.”

“But what if Mommy is nervous and needs me to take care of her during the day.”

“Mommy will be with Daddy so she’ll be fine.”

Anesa pouted and Chris chuckled, “I love you Lovebug but that face is not gonna change my mind. Now get your bookbag from by the door and take it up to your room.”

“Yes Sir.”

Anesa kissed Robyn’s cheek then left to the front door before running down the hallway. Chris shook his head as he shifted their son into a more comfortable position in his lap, “The little girl is something else.”

“That is all you,” Robyn said with a laugh.

“No, that is you. I didn’t teach her to negotiate like that.”

“You make it sound as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Depends on the circumstances. So how was your day?”

“It was good. We had a board meeting regarding the foundation. Beverly has put me in charge of the fundraising gala since I’m remote and can’t see any patients.”

“She’s really enjoying that promotion.”

“She enjoys making me deal with people.”

Chris laughed, “Baby, you can plan this in your sleep. Don’t be a whiner.”

“I’m pregnant, I’m allowed to whine.”

Chris arched his brow at her and Robyn faked like she was throwing a pillow at him, “Christian being in your lap just saved you.”

“Whatever. You know what you want for dinner?”

“I was gonna make some chicken unless you want something else.”

“I feel like making a Southern meal. How about fried chicken and catfish, hushpuppies, mac and cheese with cornbread?”

“Babe, you’ve been working and cooking for the past week, I can handle it.”

“That is not what I asked you, Mrs. Brown. Does that sound good to you?”

“I’m pregnant, everything sounds good to me but I don’t want you to burn out.”

Chris chuckled as he stood up and walked over to her. Robyn held her arms out to take Christian but Chris shook his head as he moved the baby into the crook of his arm. He leaned down and kissed her lips, “the only thing you have to worry about is that little one you’re carrying. I would ask you to stop working but I think you’d physically fight me before you’d do that.”

“And you would be right.”

“I love you and I can handle this. Let me take care of you, Robyn. Please.”

“Only if you promise to let me take care of you. You can’t forget about yourself during this time, especially not like before. I can still do things within reason. Will you let me sometimes?”

“I can compromise on that.’

“Then I can let you cook dinner tonight but I am cooking this weekend. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chris sighed as he placed the tea bags into the pot of boiling water then grabbed a glass mug out of the overhead cabinet. He’d been restless for the past few weeks. He wasn’t sure if it was paranoia about the pregnancy or this weird feeling of wanderlust he had. The first year they were married the first time, he and Robyn were home for only pockets of time, usually if he had a project to be completed but other than that, they were traveling everywhere. He had settled into a routine once they were divorced, prior to getting Anesa, he took a few sabbaticals, leaves of absence just to get out of the house. That wasn’t able to be the case over the last few years.

As the brew reached his desired color, he turned off the stove and carefully poured some tea into his mug, squeezed a few drops of honey, a little bit of lemon juice then went to sit on the enlarged window ledge, which was the width of a daybed. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if it was actually wanderlust or just paranoia about being a husband again. They had successfully made it past their first year as a married couple again but there was still a bit of fear of how they would fare going forward. Things started going bad around this time the last time and as much as he didn’t want to think about it, it was hard not to. He took a sip of tea just as he saw Robyn’s reflection in the window. Her rounded belly protrude forward, stretching the thin fabric of her nightshirt.

“Hey you,” Chris said softly.

Robyn smiled and walked over to him, “you ok?”

“Yea. Can’t sleep.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not sure I’m ready yet.”

“Hmm…”

“Want some tea?”

“Nah, I’m good. You mind some company?”

“Of course not.”

Setting his mug on a nearby side table, Chris helped Robyn to sit down in between his legs. She turned her body to rest into the crook of his left arm, facing the window. They sat in silence for a few minutes as she haphazardly drew circles on the window with her finger.

“You ok?” Chris asked as he rubbed her back. Robyn nodded her head as she continued to stare out the window, “you know you don’t have anything to be afraid of, you’re not the same person you were the first time.”

“How’d-”

“We had our first fight on this date. You walked out and didn’t come home for three days straight. I remember when I found you at the park, looking like you hadn’t washed in days. I wasn’t even sure if you had stayed in a place and just wasn’t sitting at the park for those three days. You were catatonic, seemed traumatized for some reason and you never completely snapped out of it until our last fight when you told me you wanted a divorce. I never understood what happened between the first fight and the last but you were never the same.”

“I honestly don’t remember our first fight. I don’t know if I just really don't remember or I erased it from my memory.”

“Could be a bit of both.��

“Something tells me you’ve never been able to forget it.”

“We said some horrible stuff to each other. I regret it happened.”

“I think that’s why I left, I feel like I traumatized myself.”

“Or it reminded you of a time when you were traumatized by the same circumstances. You never spoke to your therapist about it?’

“I don’t really remember it, I spoke about how we argued then we just stopped talking and how that affected me but I only went into specifics about moments that I could vividly remember. If you hadn’t mentioned finding me in the park I wouldn’t have really known what you were talking about.”

“You remember the park?”

“Yea, I ended up there a lot. I’m not sure what really drew me there, though.”

“When you disappeared, did you actually go to someone’s house or?”

“I was in the park, I used to sit there all day and I really didn’t sleep. I always sat in that hidden alcove that was covered by a lot of overhead trees. People never bothered me there, usually by nighttime, it was hard to see over there. And I would just sit there all day and night. After the first few times, Jessica used to bring me food and a blanket just to make sure I ate. It was never a priority when I got in one of those moods.”

“Explains why when you did finally come home, you’d sleep for hours.”

“My first instinct was to run when I felt uncomfortable or afraid.”

“And you’re getting that feeling now.”

“I remember the beginning of our second year is when things started to go bad. I don’t anticipate that being the case this time.”

“But your body isn’t completely convinced. Your fight or flight instincts are preparing themselves.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Should I pack you a go bag with food and a blanket?”

Chris chuckled, “I appreciate the sentiment but no. I have an appointment with my therapist next week, we’ll discuss it.”

“Chris, I think we should go back to LA.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea. I think it plays such a huge part in our history and we’ve never really addressed it. It’s where everything started for us.”

“That’s true.”

“And I don’t want to sound paranoid but I think there’s some unresolved issues that we left there, that could be contributing to your fear about us being married again. You know as soon as we could, we both just left. We’ve never talked about what made the situation turn out the way it did because it wasn’t just you and your situation with your parents. Things were turning before that, you know.”

“I can admit that. We’d have to wait until the baby is born. I’m not sure I wanna chance it on a plane with you still being pregnant.”

“Oh I know. I understand.”

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“If we want this marriage to make it past the three year mark, we have to be honest about why the first time we didn't. Who knows what else we’ve blocked out about our relationship especially since neither of us have stepped foot in California since the divorce.”

“Would you mind sitting in on a session with me?”

“Chris, I don’t-”

“I’m not saying you have to participate but I would really like you to be there with me next week. I know you get sensitive about us having our own space but sometimes it’s ok to share.”

Robyn sighed, “I don’t like therapists.”

“I figured that out already.”

“How?”

“Just had a feeling from when we first talked about it. Was your first experience that bad?”

“It was uncomfortable, I probably wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about what I was feeling. I just never felt comfortable with the whole talking to strangers thing.”

“That’s understandable, Baby. I’m not gonna make you go or anything, just promise me that you’ll think about it, ok?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

“You ready to go to bed?”

“Still not sleepy.”

“Ok.”

Robyn kissed the inside of his forearm then snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. Chris gently rubbed her back as he felt her body relax into sleep.

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

“Baby, are you ok in there?”

Chris paused to wait for an answer before he rushed back into the bedroom. Robyn was lying back on the bed with her hands cupping the underside of her belly.

“Are you ok? What’s the matter?”

“I’m ok. It’s just the extra weight gets to me sometimes. I’m fine.”

“Stand up in front of me. Let me try something.”

Robyn sighed then pushed herself to a sitting position. She took Chris’s outstretched hand to pull herself up off the bed. He led her to stand in front of him then settled his hands underneath her belly, “take a deep breath and I’m gonna gently lift for a few moments, ok?”

“Ok.”

Robyn took in a breath as Chris lifted her belly in his hands. She leaned her head back against his shoulder in relief, “Oh My God, this is perfect.”

Chris chuckled softly as he kissed her temple, “you are too much.”

“No, this feels amazing, I swear.”

Chris gently let her belly down and Robyn groaned, “I’ll do it again later but we have to get out of here if we’re gonna make it to the appointment on time.”

“Does your doctor know that I’m coming?’

“Yes, she knows.”

“Does she know I don’t plan on speaking?”

“I told her that like you asked me to.”

“Then we’re on the same page?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Can you slide my shoes over here? I really cannot bend down.”

“I asked if you needed help getting ready and you said you had it.”

“I say a lot of things sometimes, I thought I did have it.”

Chris shook his head as he grabbed her slip ons. He carefully helped her put her feet inside her shoes then grabbed her bookbag off the side chair, “anything else you need?”

“No, we’re good to go.”

Robyn hooked her arm through Chris’s and they left.

“Did she irritate you?” Chris asked as they got into the car. He helped Robyn put on her seatbelt then his own before he turned over the ignition.

“Actually, no. She was ok.”

“You seem a little agitated.”

“I’m fine. I was there to observe and that’s what I did.”

“But?”

“But what?”

“There’s a but in there somewhere.”

“I know you were trying to get me comfortable with therapy but that wasn’t the way to do it.”

“I just wanted you to see what happens since you obviously had a bad experience. I’m not trying to get you into therapy or anything like that. It’s not your thing and I accept that.”

“Ok.”

“There was no agenda involved, I really just wanted you to meet her and see what happens. I promise.”

“Ok. I’m taking you at your word. Whats the plan for the rest of the day?”

“We can do lunch then we have to get ready for your ultrasound appointment.”

“Ooh can we get some food from that taco truck downtown? I really got a taste for Mexican.”

“We can get whatever you want.”

Anesa happily bounced in her chair as they waited into the doctor’s office. They were finally gonna see what kind of baby her mommy was carrying. She was really hoping for a little sister but another brother would be ok too.

“Anesa, Sweetie, you need to relax a little bit. You’re making Mommy nervous,” Robyn said softly from her spot on the examination table.

Anesa giggled then sat still, “Sorry Mommy, I’m just excited.”

“I know Sweetie but you can be excited and still sit still.”

“Yes Ma’am. Mommy, do you know what you want?”

“I just want a healthy baby, that’s all that matters.”

“Oh ok. Do you feel sick?”

“No, I’m actually doing ok right now. Thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome. Mommy can I sit by you?”

“Of course you can, Sweetie. Be careful sliding the chair over.”

Anesa pushed the chair beside the table and grabbed Robyn’s hand that was hanging over the side. Robyn kissed the back of her hand then gave a slight squeeze as they continued to wait for Chris and the doctor to come back.

Chris stood outside the room with the doctor and Christian in his arms, “is there anything I might need to give her a heads up about before we go back in there?”

“Nothing bad, Mr. Brown. I think you’ll both be pleasantly surprised.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

The doctor held open the door then followed Chris and Christian inside. Chris sat down in the chair that was situated against the wall as the doctor sat in his rolling office chair.

“Ok Mrs. Brown, you can sit up now. I just needed to get another set of eyes for your ultrasound.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, it’s very good news.”

“So what is it?”

“You’re having twins.”

“What?”

“You’re having twins. They appear to be fraternal, one boy and one girl.”

“Wait, is that safe? Can I even-”

“Yes, it appears that everything is normal. I am in contact with your neurologist and such so we will keep an eye on the possibility of any complications but as of right now, your babies are healthy and normal.”

“Can we have a copy of the photo?” Chris asked.

“Absolutely. I’m gonna write up your prenatal recommendations and get some copies then you can be on your way.”

The doctor left the room and Chris turned to look at Robyn. She was holding her stomach with her free hand.

“Baby, are you ok?”

“Daddy, I think Mommy’s in shock,” Anesa said softly, “she’s squeezing my hand really tight.”

Chris set Christian in his stroller then walked over to Robyn and gently pulled Anesa’s hand out of her tight grip, “Baby, can you hear me? Are you ok?”

Robyn still didn’t speak but Chris noticed her chest was starting to heave.

“Damn it, she’s having an anxiety attack,” he murmured to himself, “Anesa, give Daddy Mommy’s bookbag.”

Anesa handed him the black bag and Chris carefully rummaged through it until he had her inhaler in hand. He shook it vigorously before holding it up to her lips, “Robyn, I need you to breathe for me, Baby. You’re making me nervous.”

He pushed the inhaler between her lips and pushed down on the pump twice. Robyn sucked in the air and Chris carefully rubbed her back, “good job. Now just take a few deep breaths for me, ok?”

Her chest gently moved up then down. After a few minutes, her body seemed back in control but she was still not speaking.

“Robyn, can you hear me? Are you ok?”

She nodded her head and Chris sighed, “Robyn, I’m going to get the doctor and we’ll go home. Will you be ok by yourself for a few moments?”

She nodded her head. Chris kissed her cheek then left out of the office door. Anesa moved to grab her hand again and kissed the back of it, “it’s gonna be ok, Mommy. You don’t have to be scared.”

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

“It’s gonna be ok, Mommy. You don’t have to be scared.”

Anesa’s voice kept floating in and out of Robyn’s head as she felt the oxygen mask be placed over her face. She looked to her left and Chris was standing there covered in hospital scrubs. She looked to her right and her doctor along with two nurses were prepping two infant carts. She was really about to give birth to twins. She squeezed Chris’s hand and he smiled down at her, “Baby, they’re almost here. I am so proud of you.”

Chris wiped the tear that had fallen down her cheek then gave her a kiss. Robyn looked down at her belly, it was covered by a partition. She had agreed to a c-section and subsequent tubal ligation just for safety purposes. They felt it was safer to do a c-section to minimize the stress on her body and prevent the possibility of a seizure. She still felt like she was sitting in her OB-GYN’s office, just hearing that she was having twins. It felt like yesterday, the final trimester of her pregnancy moving so fast she barely remembered it. But now, now she’s giving birth and she’s gonna get to hold her precious babies. She closed her eyes and started to recite a prayer. She just wanted her babies to live, anything she’d deal with it as it came but just let her babies make it.

“Ok family, here’s baby number 1. And it is a boy!” The doctor exclaimed.

Robyn’s eyes popped open just as the nurse lifted him above the partition. He wasn’t too big but he wasn’t small either. Chris moved to cut the umbilical cord before the nurse moved the infant over to a waiting cart. The next few minutes felt like hours before the second baby was held up for view. Her skin was already a light caramel color and she looked like she weighed just as much as her brother. Chris cut her cord then followed the nurse as she moved their daughter into her separate cart. Robyn watched as Chris took a few pictures before he removed both pairs of gloves and came back to grasp her hands, “Our babies are beautiful and healthy, Robs. We did it.”

She nodded her head in agreement as Chris kissed her lips.

They did it!

#chrianna #loveisblindfanfiction

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etn-story-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 14: Blood Spilt

Red. It clouded his vision. A strong, bitter and sulfurous smell filled his nostrils to the point where it was almost suffocating. The entirety of this was unpleasant. What was this exactly? Nomi couldn't tell, in fact, he couldn't recall anything that had mounted up to whatever was going on. He had no idea where he was, nothing. It all was just a blur.

It kinda felt like swimming in the ocean, except, it felt even lighter, almost completely weightless, engulfed in a sea of red. It was almost calming, which is what surprised Nomi the most. Everything just felt calm and relaxing, despite the mild discomfort. That didn't seem to be right. Not at all.

Something was wrong, terribly wrong. But what? What was wrong? What unsettling and unsavory thing was transpiring? Nothing felt right, that deep peace Nomi felt had seemingly vanished, replaced by a sense of wrongness, like the world was being torn apart, piece by piece. That dull ache of discomfort itched at Nomi, the red that filled his senses suddenly made him feel weak, vulnerable, scared, and alone.

But why?

...

The hideous scream echoed loudly throughout the halls of Norrisville High, causing the school to tremble to its very foundation.

Both Randy and Howard looked to each other with wide, panicked gazes. Neither teen had an explanation as to what was making this blood curdling scream.

"Howard!"

"N-ninja what's going on?!"

"I-I don't know!"

The two stumbled about, unable to keep their balances. Randy crashed into an empty desk, as Howard tripped over a chair, before landing on top of the still unconscious body of Mac Antfee.

As the scream passed, a sharp, biting sting tore into Randy like billions of needles pricking his body mercilessly. He gripped the edge of the desk with one hand, in order to support himself, while the other gripped at his stomach. As he forced himself upright, a pained gasp escaped him, only muffled by the ninja mask.

"H-aah."

Randy could only squeeze his eyes shut as pain spread all throughout his body.

"N-ninja?!"

Howard's voice could barely be heard.

"Ninja, look at me--say something!"

Randy forced his eyes open, and stared up at Howard dazedly.

"H-Howard?"

The pain began to slowly subside, though it was still painful for Randy to move normally, his tummy extremely tender.

"Ninja, you're glowing!"

Randy blinked owlishly, his movements and thought process seeming slower than usual.

"What?"

"I said you're glowing! You're completely red!"

Randy nodded distractedly. He couldn't quite register what Howard had just said.

"Cunningham?"

In any normal circumstance, Howard would never use Randy's last name when he was wearing the suit, but this was certainly not a normal circumstance.

Randy stared at Howard in a daze. He hadn't even bothered to scold the chubby teen for using his name.

"Something's wrong...I-I have to find Nomi."

"Are you insane?! The book can take care of himself, just wait here!"

Randy hesitated, before shaking his head.

"No, I have to find him...Whatever just made that scream...Nomi might need my help."

Heatedly set on searching for Nomi, Randy pushed himself completely away from the desk, wobbling slightly.

"Well, what do I do with him?!"

Howard gestured to the unconscious Mac Antfee lying on the ground between them.

"Just...keep an eye on him. You hit him pretty hard, so I don't think he'll get up any time soon."

Howard scowled, before looking down at Mac, then reluctantly nodding.

"Fine, but hurry it up."

Randy nodded.

"Thanks, buddy."

Howard huffed as Randy charged ungracefully out of the room, using the wall as support.

Suddenly, the body lying in front of Howard began to stir.

...

For the most part, the school seemed entirely deserted. The halls were littered with papers, notebooks, pencils and bags. Clearly everyone had left in a hurry.

The further Randy walked, the more on edge he felt. He felt vulnerable, and with every creak and shudder the school gave, the more it unsettled him, making him even more paranoid about his surroundings. It almost tempted him to pull out his sword, however, he refrained from doing so. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Randy wouldn't be able to hold it, let alone use it.

As he ventured further down the hallway, he noticed how much more destroyed the classrooms were. Had he and Mac made this much of a mess? Randy glanced over a scorched piece of building and shook his head. No, no they hadn't.

Suddenly, before Randy could have a chance to even blink, a burst of colorful doodles flooded the hallway. They burned everything they touched, reducing them into nothing more than ashes.

Randy was unable to move away fast enough. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the burning sensation of fire to rip through his body and burn him to a crisp, but it never came.

Daring to open an eye, Randy found himself staring face to cover of what looked like a tiny, colorful doodle of Nomi in book form, complete with tiny stick figure arms and legs. For a moment, he stared at the little doodle dumbly, before it suddenly began to nuzzle Randy's cheek.

Randy froze in surprise, he wasn't sure what to do, so he allowed the act, which was soon added by other doodles that began rubbing themselves against his body.

A light feeling of warmth began to spread throughout his body, seeping into his very veins. Any pain Randy had previously felt slipped away, until there was no pain at all. He flexed his fingers curiously, still feeling no pain. The tiny doodles seemed to sense this as they all pulled away. The Nomicon doodle lingered for just a second longer, before it too floated past Randy, and finally fading away into nothing. He glanced down at his hands, and found that he was no longer covered in stank.

To Randy, the entire transaction was odd to say the least.

“What the juice just happened?”

Randy didn't have much time to ponder over it, before suddenly--

"Hello, nice wad."

Randy had barely managed to turn around before something smacked him hard against the side of his head. He was sent stumbling to the ground, stars dancing in his eyes. He could feel Mac's presence looming over him. Randy turned his head as best he could to look up at him. The man held a wicked smirk on his face. Randy saw a large wooden board in his hands.

Mac raised it again, before bringing it down upon Randy. Darkness overcame his vision.

...

A deep groan.

"Hmm, I think he's waking up. Good, I thought you killed the brat."

Randy shifted, his eyes beginning to adjust.

"Too bad, it would've made things easier. Ah well, fucking with him is gonna be even better."

His muscles ached, and his head stung.

"Uuugh..."

Randy moaned out. He turned his head to the side, and at first could only see a wall, but soon someone stepped into his view. Randy's eyes widened as the Sorceress stood before him. She gave him a smile that could rival the Cheshire cat's.

"Hmm, for such a puny little rat, you've caused quite a bit of trouble. I suppose I can't complain though, you being such a weakling made it easier for us. The Norisu brat wasn't all that much different either. Shame, I expected more of a fight from the worthless worm."

Randy began to tremble violently,

"W-what?"

The Sorceress's smile grew wider, but before she could utter another word, a deep growl resonated from somewhere Randy couldn't see. She began to giggle and coo.

"Oh, it seems he's quite the impatient one."

Randy swallowed. He tried craning his neck further to see what the witch was talking about, but to no avail. What was holding him down?

Randy felt added pressure on his back, and he let out a sharp gasp of pain.

"What, excited to see Teach?"

Oh. Right, Mac. Oh no, Howard! He'd told him to keep an eye on Mac! Did he do something to him?!

Randy began to squirm around vigorously.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"L-let me go! LET ME GO!"

Mac chuckled darkly. He lifted his foot from the small of Randy's back before viciously stomping down on him between his shoulder blades. Randy cried out.

"I believe it's time we ended this. No need to prolong this brat's time."

The Sorceress scowled, clearly more intent on finishing things up quickly. She knew that if the young ninja somehow managed to gain some form of upper hand, it would all be over, and their plans would go down the drain.

"Aw c'mon, I'm just getting started! I want this stupid fucker to pay. Let's just have a little fun with him. Besides, the 800 year old newspaper isn't gonna be any trouble, now that he's under your control. Besides, I have the mask."

“WAIT WHAT.”

Randy's eyes shot open, his pupils shrunk. No, it couldn't be!

The Sorceress eyed the purple haired teen tentatively. The idea was much too good to simply pass up. The ninja had been a thorn on her side for centuries. And now, the opportunity to make him pay was practically laid out in front of her. Even better, she had the right weapons for the job.

"Hmm, I guess we aren't in such a rush. And this could be the perfect chance to practice my control over the Nomicon."

Her eyes glistened wickedly as she spoke.

Meanwhile, Randy's heart was beating madly against his chest. He was in a full fledged panic. They know who he is, his secret identity exposed, and Nomi was sta--

Snap!

The Sorceress had snapped her bony fingers, and instantly a blur of black and red was at her side.

Mac Antfee removed his foot, lifting Randy by the scruff of his shirt, shoving him face to face with what had become of his teacher.

Nomi's body was long and slender, with short, muscular legs, each equipped with long red talons. His snout was long with two feelers on either side of his cherry red nose, and a small beard grew on his chin. On top of his head sat a set of antlers and a mop of long, red hair that ran from the top of his head and ended at the tuft on his tail. The entirety of Nomi's body was coated in impenetrable black scales, and a cream colored underbelly with the glowing red symbol of the Norisu Nine engrained at his chest.

"Nomi..."

His name was all that he could manage to muster.

The Sorceress cooed as she ran a sickly green hand against the smooth scales.

"Yes, he'll wreak havoc upon this pathetic town, and soon the world will be ours. Hellion, destroy this pitiful building."

"No, Nomi don't! NO!"

Nomi ignored Randy's pleas. He snarled, baring his large fangs, smoke pouring out of his mouth and nostrils. He then turned to the nearest wall, and without batting an eye, released a powerful torrent of colorful doodles that acted like flames, eating away at the wall and anything beyond that with ease. He then rammed his antlers against the smoldering room, destroying any surviving material, before moving on to the next room, all within a matter of seconds.

Randy could only watch on in horror, before he was promptly shoved against the wall, away from Nomi. He could just imagine Mac was grinning from ear to ear.

Randy squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Mac Antfee began to beat him. He was punched numerously against his head, before being thrown like a ragdoll against the cool tile. One of his eyes was swollen and black, blood leaking profusely from his nose.

"You were such a fucking pain in my ass, kid. You don't even deserve that mask. I'M the best ninja that old twink has ever taught. You're worthless compared to me! Do you hear that?! WORTHLESS! And I know you like him. It’s almost painful with how obvious it is. But you know what?"

Randy swallowed a sob as Mac kicked him in the stomach.

"He doesn't care about you. He just sees you as some poor kid who's stuck doing his dirty work."

Another swift kick, this time to Randy's ribs.

"You're nothing to him. You're just a replaceable pawn!"

Mac grabbed Randy by the throat, lifting him up high. He began to squeeze, barely allowing any air to pass through his lungs.

"He won't miss you, let alone love you. I almost feel sorry for ya. Too bad I'm gonna fucking kill you."

"N-Nomi!... NOMI!..NOMI HELP!...PLEASE-!" Randy rasped out desperately.

Mac snickered, he watched, utterly amused, before digging his nails harshly into Randy's neck, cutting off almost all air from his lungs, leaving the teen gasping.

"The book isn't gonna do a thing to help you now. He belongs to us now."

Randy's hands shot out and grabbed at Mac Antfee's hand, trying to pull it away, but it didn't budge.

The Sorceress watched the display, a sense of sickening satisfaction crossed her wrinkled face.

...

Nomi had gone far off down the hall, far away from the brutal beating of his student. He had already destroyed nearly a third of the nearby classes in less than a few minutes.

He could hear the sounds of a fight, and despite his mind being completely under the control of the Sorceress, some form of curiosity entered his mind, and he found himself twisting back around down the hall from where he'd previously come from.

Nomi couldn't quite place why he was so interested in the sounds of the skirmish, yet continued on, ignoring his previous orders to destroy.

It was odd, but even the idea of destroying things was actually quite foreign to Nomi. Why did everything feel so off? So wrong?

Nothing made sense.

Nomi marched on as he tried to make sense of everything, but it was as if something was preventing him from doing so. But what and why? He couldn't say.

"N-Nomi!"

Nomi froze.

"... NOMI!.."

Who was that? Why were they calling for him? They sounded familiar...

"NOMI HELP!...PLEASE-!"

This time, something snapped. It hit him like a ton of bricks, reality came pummeling down on Nomi. The deep red veil that had clouded his mind vanished. He remembered. The fight that had broken out between himself, Randy, the Sorceress, and Mac...the rage that led to him getting stanked.

A deep bubbling anger flared through his mind, and Nomi suddenly began to barrel his way down the ruins of the demolished hallway with no signs of stopping.

…

Mac watched as Randy struggled, slowly suffocating within the tips of his fingers. Just like the Sorceress, a swell of satisfaction puffed inside his chest.

Randy's mouth fell open as he despairingly tried to breathe in any air he could, but Mac did not allow him. He squeezed just enough to cut off all air supply to his lungs, and when the man relented enough to let him take a breath, it simply wasn't enough. Randy could feel his eyes beginning to roll backwards as the lack of air was causing him to slowly lose consciousness again.

He knew that it would be permanent this time.

Seconds passed, and Mac did not give Randy the relief of even a small amount of breath. His grip on Mac's hand weakened.

“This is it,” Randy thought, “this is where I'm gonna die.”

Just as Randy was about to pass out, a loud snarling roar startled Mac, causing him to release Randy's neck, just barely enough for the teen to breathe. And the man was almost instantaneously torn away from him.

Everyone, even the Sorceress, seemed shocked.

Mac was on the ground, utterly terrified as Nomi hovered over him, pinning him down with one large clawed hand, his long red talons threatening to pierce the skin on his chest.

Randy wheezed, as he took desperate gulps of air, coughing every few seconds. He laid there limply, his eyes closed and tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Small sobs escaping him.

Mac squirmed underneath Nomi, staring up at the ancient being with a fearful gaze.

Nomi leaned down, a resonating growl erupted from his maw, and he bore his long fangs, clearly intent on using them.

The Sorceress, who had been watching the entire display, acted fast. She created a ball of pink energy and aimed it skillfully at Nomi, hitting him dead on, causing the dragon to rear up, releasing his hold on Mac. The ginger haired man wasted no time to scramble away. He reached behind him and pulled out the stank covered katana, the Sorceress joining his side.

"YOU FOOL! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN TO NOT HAVE LISTENED TO A WORD YOU SPAT OUT! THE NOMICON IS NO LONGER IN MY CONTROL!" The Sorceress snarled.

"Then get him back in your control!" Mac hissed back.

Before the Sorceress could retort, a large billow of colorful doodles smacked her, sending her flying down the end of the hall. She was out, cold.

Mac stared after her, in complete shock, before turning back around in front of him. That was a huge mistake.

Nomi's reptilian tail swung out at Mac like a whip, snatching his katana from his grip.

Randy watched quietly, having at some point managed to push himself into a slumped, sitting position against the wall. To him, it was like watching a scary movie, as the monster was being cornered, getting ready for the final stretch of the film.

Unfortunately this was no movie. This was real.

As Nomi lunged, Mac darted around the mouth full of teeth, just narrowly escaping by a hair. He hastily went for his katana, which sat an inch or two within the tips of his fingers. However, Nomi was quicker. Like a rubber band, Nomi snapped around faster than a whip, snapping his large jaws onto Mac's hand.

Mac Antfee hollered loudly in sheer pain, before being tossed into a pile of rubble.

Randy watched in silent horror as Nomi opened his bloody jaws, preparing to enlist a final blow, but just before he could, a pink blast hit him squarely in the jaw.

Nomi roared angrily, turning to the source of the offending blow. The Sorceress.

Nomi narrowed his eyes darkly, and was quickly upon her in seconds.

Having been unprepared for Nomi's speed, the Sorceress was useless in fighting off the redhead's devastating attacks.

Randy continued to watch, breathless, as Nomi unleashed ferocious attacks with brutal force and absolutely no mercy.

Suddenly, a deep grunt of pain caught his attention and instantly, fear swarmed his mind.

Mac was slowly getting back up onto shaky feet, one hand bleeding profusely, the other grasped at the glowing green katana tightly. He began to stagger towards Randy. A maniacal grin was stretching itself across his face, eyes wide and wild.

He began to laugh.

"I'm gonna finish what I started. And there's nothing he can do to save you now."

Randy pressed himself against the wall. He felt small, compared to Mac, as he loomed over him. Randy whimpered as Mac grabbed at his throat again, lifting him up high, his body pressed against the wall. Randy closed his eyes as Mac began to squeeze his neck again.

Mac chuckled softly as he slowly raised his katana, before plunging it straight into Randy's stomach.

Randy threw his head back, his mouth fell open as he let out an odd, strangled cry that quickly fell silent as Mac tightened his grip on Randy's neck, his dark grin only growing at the sight.

...

Howard moaned out pitifully, his face stung, and he was more than sure his nose was broken.

The last thing Howard could recall was Mac getting to his feet. Howard had tried to call for Randy to come back, before he felt a sharp cuff to his face that rendered him unconscious.

For how long was he out was a mystery that seemed like too much work to ponder. He simply hoped that Randy was okay. That way, when he saw him again, he could slap him, because holy cheese, he was left alone with that maniac!

Howard huffed in annoyance at the thought. He then pushed himself back to his feet, but only to be knocked back down again.

The entire school began to tremble, sounds of destruction radiated off throughout the halls. It was almost like an earthquake had hit.

Howard gripped at a desk and pushed himself up.

Random chips and pieces of the ceiling began to dust his hair, which he brushed off in aggravation. He turned to the rest of the room, and could tell that Mac was definitely long gone, and Randy still hadn't come back yet.

Wait.

“CUNNINGHAM!”

Randy wasn't back, the whole school was shaking, and oh my cheese there's some huge monster outside the room.

Howard froze at the sight of what looked to be a black dragon passing by. The large beast appeared to be in deep thought when--

"N-Nomi!"

The dragon paused, raising its head just slightly, before moving closer to the source of the voice.

Howard's heart skipped a beat. That had sounded like Randy.

"... NOMI!.."

It started to walk faster, ears perked up in alert.

"NOMI HELP!...PLEASE-!"

Then it started to run. The large dragon was a blur, and was gone in seconds.

Wait. Was that-? No, it couldn't be the book? Could it?

Howard decided he wasn't going to wait and find out, he had to go after it before it could get to Randy.

With that, Howard made his way into the hall.

...

The taste of iron intoxicated Randy's mouth. His lungs cried out for air, and the urge to vomit attacked his insides. It didn't help that a sword was literally hacking at him either, even more so when the sword wielder was twisting it around.

Randy could only squirm around weakly. He couldn't even call out to Nomi anymore.

"You know what, nice wad? You're absolutely pathetic. If ya had just given me the mask, I wouldn't have to kill you. But you just had to play the hero, huh?"

Randy could only squeeze his eyes shut as Mac continued to berate him. Tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you seriously fucking crying?"

Soft whimpers escaped Randy's bloody lips.

It wasn't the response that Mac had wanted. He slowly slid the the katana out of Randy's gut, and held it up to the teen's bloodied face. Randy squirmed, crying out.

"Look at it."

The young ninja didn't open his eyes.

The ex-ninja ninja scowled darkly at him, before violently shaking him.

"I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT IT!"

Randy whimpered, slowly opening his eyes and peering face to face to Mac's bloody sword. Tears blurred his vision, turning the sword into a smeared blob of red.

"You're so fucking useless, a waste of space. You're the shittiest ninja ever, a huge fuck up. I don't know what Teach saw in you. He must have been desperate."

Randy stifled out a sob.

…

The Sorceress hissed, as wall of colorful doodles nearly burnt her to a crisp. She raised a part of her shroud to shield herself as it passed. She had so far managed to evade most of the Nomicon's more vicious attacks, but just barely. She knew though, that eventually it wouldn't be long before the large dragon would manage to land a hit on her, and she would be thrown into another deadly foray. Thus far she's been on the defensive, and that quickly needed to change. She was already cornered against a wall, her magic useless against Nomi, and she was slowly running out of ideas. She needed to distract the beast.

Her eyes darted around until they landed onto her ticket of escape, the purple haired brat that Mac was currently torturing to death.

The Sorceress grinned darkly, and fell into her usual act of manipulation. Cooing, she narrowed her soulless yellow eyes, lips pursed,

"Poor, poor Nomicon. Do you really believe that you can have that little ninja as yours? You aren't human anymore, remember? Any form of humanity you show is simply an act you put up to fool everyone around you. Now, you've even managed to fool yourself. He will grow old, while you'll continue your miserable existence."

Nomi paused.

"Besides, the boy despises you. He wouldn't have to deal with any of this had you not burdened him with your duty. You've ruined his life, and now he will die, because of your incompetence! I'm sure Mac Antfee agrees, after all, he seems to be having quite a bit of fun torturing your little toy to death."

As the Sorceress said this, she lifted a bony hand and pointed at Mac and Randy, a wicked grin on her face.

Nomi hastily spun around, eyes immediately landing on the two. Mac holding Randy up by his throat, and a blood soaked sword in his other. A large gaping wound decorated Randy's gut and was gushing out large amounts of blood.

Nomi's eyes narrowed, he let out a blood curdling roar, and charged straight to Mac, completely forgetting about the Sorceress.

...

Mac sneered.

"Fucking weak. A damned pathetic, cock sucking brat."

Randy closed his eyes, his mouth fell open as strangled sobs left him.

"You and your fat fuck of a friend. Can't believe he wants you."

Randy's eyes shot open. He tried to mouth a 'what?' to Mac, but Mac simply rolled his eyes. He seemed bored, and even mildly disappointed.

"I think I'm just gonna wrap this up. You're such a damned crybaby, not even worth my time--"

A loud roar cut off the rest of Mac's sentence. He turned to where he guessed was the source, but immediately found himself being bulldozed away, releasing his grip on Randy.

The man's eyes were wide with fear, and his mouth wide open as a pained, gurgled cry escaped him. Nomi's antlers impaled right into his arm, ribs, thigh, and cheek, barely missing the temple.

With brutal ferocity, Nomi snapped his head in an effort to shake the man off, and once he did, Nomi began to violently tear into Mac Antfee. With no mercy, Nomi began to tear him to shreds, viciously tearing off an arm.

Randy laid where he was dropped, his own blood already pooling around him. He'd already lost a good amount before. It was a miracle he hadn't passed out yet.

He took in deep and heavy breaths, savoring each swallows of air he got. His vision, though blurred by his tears, and one eye swelled shut, it didn't completely hinder him from the the grizzly scene that was playing out before him.

Mac was shrieking loudly, painfully, as the sounds of his flesh being torn apart could be heard.

Randy shuddered at the sounds, disgusted.

His whole body ached, his face especially stung, but indescribable pain spread from his stomach. This entire moment seemed so unbelievable, like something from a nightmare.

Was this a nightmare? Wasn't he going to wake up and find himself in his own room?

The Sorceress, in all her centuries of existence, was actually mortified by Nomi's gruesome performance. She needed to leave now, unless she wanted to end up like Mac, but first, she needed to grab something, something important.

Making her way around the Nomicon in silence. She stopped by a seemingly insignificant pile of rubble, and pulled out the Ninja mask. Originally, the witch had been willing to hand it over to Mac, so long as he kept up with his end of the deal, which was to help her gain control of the Nomicon. Of course, that clearly wasn’t what was happening, and that being said, the Sorceress decided that this was her time to take her leave.

...

Nomi had made quick work of Mac. What was left of him was barely recognizable to anyone.

Randy stared weakly up at his teacher, and for the first time ever, he actually felt afraid of Nomi.

The older male slowly turned to him, his jaws dripping with Mac's blood, and he began to make his way towards Randy.

Not sure whether or not Nomi would attack him, Randy hastily reached into his pocket and fished out his wallet. With trembling hands he dug around and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

Nomi paused, watching in curiosity as Randy began to unfold it, before holding up the parchment. It was the painting of Nomi and his siblings.

Nomi blinked, he stepped closer. His voice was soft, almost gentle, but still came out as an inhuman rasp.

"RAnDy? ....bROtHerS AnD SisTeRs...HOw...?"

Nomi carefully pressed his nose against the ancient painting, sniffing it lightly. A purr emitted from his throat, and he laid his head on the bloody tile in front of Randy.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. What had he just done? Something unforgivable, sick, and brutal. It was wrong and selfish, worse, Randy had to witness it all, endure through it all.

The black dragon let out a shaky whimper, a puff of air escaped him, and with it so did the stank.

Randy watched as the red air slithered away, out of sight. He turned his gaze back to Nomi, and stared in silence as the older teen reverted back to his normal self.

"I'm so sorry. Randy, I...I'm so sorry..."

Tears rained down Nomi's cheeks as he continued to vainly blurt out undecipherable apologies. He buried his face into Randy's chest.

Randy smiled, he opened his mouth as if to say something. It was weak and soft.

"Nomi...I love... "

But just like that, he trailed off as his vision became black, and he finally passed out.

Nomi hadn't noticed that Randy had tried to speak, too stricken with grief and shame at his own, despicable actions.

He did, however, hear the sounds of distant vehicles, and more than likely they were police officers, ambulances, news vans...the usual group of vultures.

"What did you do?"

The voice startled Nomi, and he pulled away to find Howard standing only a few feet away from them.

"Howard--"

Nomi could hardly even get in Howard’s name, before Howard rushed over and harshly shoved Nomi away. The redhead didn't fight back as Howard began to berate and shout at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM YOU BASTARD?!"

Nomi's eyes widened slightly. Did Howard think that he...?

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM! DON'T EVEN COME NEAR HIM! IT'S YOUR FAULT YOU STUPID BOOK!"

Nomi winced, but otherwise didn't react. Howard glared at him murderously, before turning away and hastily lifting up his best friend's limp body. He shot Nomi another look as if he wanted to say something else, but decided against it, and ran off.

Nomi cringed as the sound of the school's front entrance slammed shut behind the chubby teen. After that, an unsettling quiet set in.

Nomi's eyes fell upon the painting of him and his siblings that Randy had dropped, and carefully took it into his hands. He clutched it closely, not daring to look at the faces of the people that he clearly disappointed.

He pondered how on earth Randy had come across it.

Nomi knew that he should probably go after Howard and Randy, at least to make sure his student made it to the hospital safely, but he didn't. The words of the Sorceress and Howard echoed through his mind, and he stayed, glued to the floor he was sitting on.

...

Hours passed by, before a gentle but firm hand placed itself onto Nomi's shoulder.

Nomi silently turned to the hands owner and he found himself staring up at a familiar face.

A man wearing a cowboy hat glanced down at him forlornly, his expression grave, yet at the same time, sympathetic.

It was Nomi's "uncle" Charlie. There was very little Nomi knew about the man, for one, his name wasn't Charlie. No one knew what it was, not even his parents knew. Two, Nomi and Charlie were certainly not related by blood, but he was a friend of Nomi's family, long before he had been born. Though the southern accented man was still a complete mystery, there was no doubt that he was an ally. How he came to be an ally was a long story, but for another

The point was, "Charlie" cared, and that was that.

Said man carefully kneeled on the ground, avoiding the pool of blood that Nomi was laying on, and wrapped his arms around Nomi. The redhead couldn't resist and returned the gesture, breaking down into loud sobs into the man's shoulder.

It had been centuries since the last time the two had actually embraced, let alone speak. Still, the blossoming familiarity pulled Nomi in and kept him there, until it overwhelmed him. Nomi pulled away and numbly got to his feet, brushing off any other forms of comfort the man offered.

"You gon' be okay?"

Charlie's deep southern voice strung against Nomi, and all the teen could do was shake his head, before walking off.

Charlie stood there, and watched as Nomi walked off, making no movements to stop him.

He simply nodded, and walked off to his own direction.

As Nomi walked off, he tried to ignore Mac's mutilated body, barely resisting the urge to vomit.

He clumsily hopped out a nearby window, and headed into town.

#Enter the Nomicon #ETN #Chapter 14 #story repost #tw: blood #tw: death #tw: violent death #tw: gore

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justkurotingz · 5 years ago

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“riles” (mac x riley)

first macriley short ever 🥺🥺 please please enjoy LMAO <3 this is very much based on episode 4x12

word count: almost 1K words

“riles.” that one word sent riley’s heart spinning, but she forced herself to push the feelings down. “you’re family mac.” she said softly, glancing at the blonde haired genius sitting next to her. “still...you didn’t have to do this.” almost a day ago, mac broke out a codex operative that was currently sleeping in the backseat, and stole tesla’s super weapon from phoenix foundation. and of course, because riley was a “ride or die” type of best friend, she helped mac escape with the weapon. and now they were headed directly to codex to betray their friends- or at least trick them into believing they were betrayed.

good undercover doublecrossing operatives don’t let anyone on either side know their true intentions. “mac. you’re my best friend. i’d do anything for you.” before mac could respond, scarlett stirred from behind them. “home sweet home.” she said drowsily, but the welcome back was not a pleasant one.

“hang on!” riley veered off into a sideroad to avoid being further shot at. “We tend to be a little wary of outsiders.” scarlett offered, but after the gunfire didn’t stop when she tried for peace, she settled in the back with a sigh. “well, that’s not good.” eventually, the trio got rid of the two attackers, and continued to the ranchhouse.

before roman and the soldiers could take out the truck, gwen thankfully recognized mac’s morse code. “hell..fire incoming. GET EVERYONE INSIDE!” as the operatives and their families ran to the ranchhouse and the secret city underneath, riley pulled into the gravel driveway.

“we have a gift.” mac said before anyone could say anything, and riley smiled softly, looking at mac. “got it bad huh.” scarlett teased her and riley quickly found somewhere else to look as mac uncovered shiva. “really roman. he brought us shiva and you were going to shoot him for it?” gwen reprimanded her head of security, and riley went to help mac load up shiva. “what’s that gonna do against a hellfire?” roman lowered his weapon and mac glanced over. “hopefully it’ll act as a mini missile defensive system. the electromagnetic pulse should scramble the missile guiding system.” “hurry!” scarlett stated the obvious from behind them.

riley and mac let out the biggest sighs as the missile flew right past the ranchhouse and crashed into the woods with the pulse mac shot at it. gwen and roman exchanged triumphant smiles but before anyone could say anything, riley stepped forward. “hey mac... how many missiles does a reaper drone carry?” the drone’s figure was nearing the group. “i’m guessing two.” he started to crank up shiva again, but the drone was approaching too fast, even for tesla’s superweapon.

mac stopped cranking and the group stared at the drone in terror. without a word, mac reached over and took riley’s hand. her heart exploded, but she didn’t dare look at mac’s face, or their intertwined hands. if this was the end, this was a hell of a way to go.

“thank god.” scarlett said, as the drone flew right over, crashing in a field. mac chuckled breathily, and exchange a knowing tilt of the head with gwen. “ella!” scarlett rushed towards her sister and riley smiled at the reunion, stepping a bit closer to mac. being separated from someone you love was the hardest thing a person had to go through, riley thought. “thank you.” the look in scarlett’s eyes was so desperate and grateful, that riley felt her sincerity in her body. “of course.” scarlett gave her a small smile about mac and riley blushed, looking down.

“so what changed your mind?” gwen walked forward with mac, riley on their tail. “as hard as i tried, i couldn’t find a hole in the logic of file 47. my mother was right, i’m glad you were here to show me that.” they paused and mac looked directly into his aunt, giving her a small smile. “so am i.” she smiled back, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “and your girlfriend?”

as much as riley would have loved mac to say she was her girlfriend, she spoke up. “you know i’m not his girlfriend.” but gwen simply gave her a small smile. were her feelings really that obvious? “you also know the skills she has to offer. we’re a package deal.” mac finished, smiling at gwen.

“then you both understand what a huge commitment you’re making? any lingering doubts?” riley swallowed hard, not wanting to say anything, but luckily mac answered. “we just betrayed our friends to stop a missile dropping on your heads so... i’d say that ship has sailed.”

“okay.” gwen chuckled then glanced at riley. “i can think of many other ships that have sailed... or that could sail.” with that she pulled out a transmitter of sorts and dialed in a number, leaving riley more confused than she had been before.

the wooden sides of the ranchhouse opened to a secret elevator that took them down to the underground city. “welcome home angus.” gwen disappeared and riley stammered. “this is... unbelievable.” cars and bikes filled the roads, and the streets were lined with coffee shops, markets and pedestrians. “so what now?” riley’s gut dreaded the answer. “improvise.”

“mac?” riley turned to him and mac looked at her. “yeah?” “please don’t leave me.” riley expected a “of course not.” or something of the sort, but didn’t expect the hug he pulled her into. “i dragged you into this mess riles. i’m not letting you go before we take this thing down.” he pressed abkiss to her temple and riley smiled in pleasant shock. “i’m glad we’re on the same page then.” she pulled away, and the two of them continued down the street in the same anxiety filled excitement stupor, ready to see what they’re tackling next.

#macgyver #angus macgyver #riley davis #macriley #mac x riley #codex #gwen #scarlett #oneshot #one-shot #phoenix foundation #phoenix

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bloodfromthethorn · 4 years ago

Text

Flatline

Sometimes, a good day can just turn on a dime. No one can predict if a bright sunny morning might end up being the day you're forced to watch your best friend die.

Part nine of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3.

The bullet comes out of nowhere. That might be the worst part about it, honestly. No matter how aware Jack is of his surroundings, no matter how much he tries to keep Mac out of danger, what could he possibly do to prevent a sniper camped on a rooftop half a mile away from taking a potshot at his partner when they’re just casually walking into work on an average Tuesday morning? Bright California sunshine above them, laughing without a care in the world, minds focused on nothing but the list of tasks they had to do that day. For all his training and preparation and drive, Jack never stood a chance against something he couldn’t see coming.

It’s so unexpected that it takes Jack a solid few seconds to catch up to what’s actually going on: first, Mac, a few steps ahead of him, jolts oddly to the side with a staggering half step; then, a second later, the sharp boom-crack of a rifle rolls over them and Jack instinctively ducks his head, the experience of two decades’ worth of dodging gunfire kicking him hard in the ass; third, Mac tries to do the same thing, lurching forwards slightly towards the cover of the building they are oh-so-close to, but stops short, curling into himself in a way Jack has seen once before and never, ever wanted to repeat. He knows even before Mac turns what he’ll see: a dark swell of red, low on his partner’s chest.

The whole thing can take no more than a second or two, but it feels like it lasts a lifetime. Then there’s a crackle along Jack’s skin and the passage of time reasserts itself with a snap and he’s throwing himself forwards to tackle Mac into the shadow of the Phoenix’s entrance just as another distant shot sounds off and a chunk of masonry explodes right beside Jack’s head. His partner grunts at the impact, but either lets Jack move him or simply doesn’t have the strength to fight him because he doesn’t put up the slightest resistance as he’s knocked to the floor.

As soon as Jack’s certain he and Mac are both out of sight of the shooter, he fixes every ounce of his attention on the red stain rapidly spreading across Mac’s shirt.

“Jah-” he rasped, breaking off in a pained cough that seems to shake him to his very bones. His skin is already ashen pale and it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“Don’t try to speak kiddo,” he snaps back, yanking his shirt over his head to press it harshly against the wound. “Just breathe through it, okay? Keep breathing.”

He knows that he doesn’t have long. Mac’s limbs have already turned leaden and unresponsive, and while the bullet looks like it was too low to catch his heart, there’s plenty of other vital organs to worry about. After all these years, he really could lose Mac in minutes. He can’t let that happen.

There are voices shouting inside, some enterprising secretary on the front desk apparently catching on to the battlefield unfurling outside her door and summoning help. For the first time in perhaps his entire life, Jack puts the security of the Phoenix Foundation right to the back of his mind and ignores it completely; all he cares about in that moment is getting Mac inside and down the stairs to the trained medical staff who are Mac’s only hope. Nothing else matters until the wavering heartbeat pattering against his palm is steady again.

With that goal in mind, he abandons his vain attempts at stemming the bleeding in favour of threading his arms under Mac’s shoulders and knees and hoisting him up. It’s an awkward carry, with Mac both too long and too heavy for Jack to comfortably handle like this, especially when he’s utterly limp – and definitely not a dead weight – but Jack’s never cared about that less. He could pull every single muscle in his body and it wouldn’t even register over the screaming fear of watching his partner’s eyes roll back in his bloodless face.

“Don’t you dare die on me Mac,” he threatens harshly, and dashes inside.

There was a team waiting to receive him when he burst through the doors of the med bay, no doubt thanks to the secretary he’d yelled at as he’d passed by. Once he had any brainpower to spare beyond worrying about Mac, he’d make a mental note to find out her name and thank her.

“Put him down on here,” one of the nurses called, gesturing to the gurney they’d wheeled out. “How long has he been unconscious?”

“About four minutes,” he answered, breathless and terrified. “He was awake after he was hit – he knew who I was.”

As soon as Mac was lying flat, the medical personnel swarmed around him, pushing Jack firmly around so that he was standing beside his feet. Everyone who worked at the Phoenix had some awareness of Mac and Jack’s ironclad partnership, and that went double for the medical staff; they’d learned long ago not to bother trying to separate them when one of them was injured. It was far easier and painless if they just moved them aside to get the room they needed and then just left them to it.

“BP dropping,” one of the nurses announced sharply, a stethoscope pressed to the inside of Mac’s elbow.

A doctor tore open Mac’s ruined shirt to examine the wound, while another nurse used the opportunity to affix a series of sensors across Mac’s chest. The machine they were attached to immediately started wailing.

“Irregular heartbeat,” the nurse said. “Dropping quickly.”

“GSW to the chest,” the doctor examining the wound said. “No exit wound. I think- Shit. It’s a sucking wound.”

Jack might spend a lot of his life playing the fool, but the truth was that he was much smarter than most people gave him credit for. After so many years in the military, he’d had more than enough run-ins with medics and he’d made sure to do his research when he realised Mac had a penchant for sprinting towards danger. He knew exactly how bad that announcement was.

“Okay,” said the female doctor beside Mac’s head, calm in the face of such dire news. “We need to get him into surgery, right now.”

The gurney immediately starting moving down the hallway, Jack trailing along desperately in its wake.

“We’ll need to start with a transfusion. Blood type?”

“AB negative,” Jack answered.

“Jason, get a pint prepped. Sarah, I need a line in his arm. Run it open wide, we’re going to need to get a lot of fluids into him as quickly as we can. Who’s my anaesthesiologist?”

Whatever the answer to that question was, it was completely lost in the sudden screech of alarm from the heart monitor. The nurse in charge of it snapped to attention. “Code blue! Flatline!”

The bottom of Jack’s stomach dropped away.

The lead doctor barked out a name and one of the nurses right beside Jack immediately hopped up on the gurney, flailing for a split second as he juggled his limbs so he wasn’t standing on Mac before settling in to hover of him. Arranging his hands on Mac’s chest without aggravating the wound didn’t look comfortable, but he started compressions without pause.

Jack felt his steps faltering as he watched the nurse throwing his weight down onto Mac’s sternum, one of the other staff pressing a blue Ambu bag over his face to breathe for him. Breathing for him because he couldn’t – because Mac’s heart had-

-because-

-because Mac was-

-dead.

Mac was dead.

He was flatlining because his heart had stopped in his chest and the only thing keeping him on this side of the board was a medical team doing absolutely everything they could to preserve him. After all these years, after swearing to lay his life on the line to protect him, after a decade of you go kaboom, I go kaboom and now Jack was racing down a corridor with a fist-sized stone sitting heavy in his throat because there was no way this could be real. This wasn't right - it wasn't supposed to go down like this. Not ever. There was no conceivable world in which Jack was standing there completely unharmed while Mac was lying there motionless, entirely devoid of life. He refused.

Through it all the team hadn’t flinched and even now they were fighting to the last. Jack had to do the same.

Just as the doors to the theatre suite – the doors Jack knew he wasn’t allowed to cross no matter how much he might want to – appeared at the end of the corridor, the heart monitor suddenly let out another mighty beeping sound.

“I’ve got V-fib,” the nurse holding it said, relief evident in her voice. “Prep for defibrillation.”

“Ready!”

The nurse performing compressions backed off suddenly, sitting back uncomfortably on his heels as he hovered. “Clear!”

There was a sharp clicking sound, and Mac’s whole body twitched just as the gurney was whisked through the doors and out of sight. Jack skidded to a halt, his heart in his throat and his face wet with tears he hadn’t even realised he’d been crying. There was nothing he wanted more than to follow, to stand beside his brother in his hour of need as he had always promised to do, but he knew that busting into the operating theatre was not an option. Jack had to trust that the doctors knew what they were doing – trust them with Mac’s life. He’d never been very good at that.

But there was nothing for it. Jack had failed his most basic commandment: keep the kid safe. Now, all he could do was hope that the medics were better at their jobs than he had been at his. It was the only possible outcome. Because the alternative was-

-the alternative was that he really had just watched Mac die. And that- That was something he could not countenance.

Exhausted, drained, and covered in his brother’s blood, Jack stood there in the hallway and wept.

By the time Mac was out of surgery, Riley, Bozer, and Matty had all arrived to join in Jack’s vigil. Riley had done what she could to try to comfort him, to bring him back to himself, but in the end it had taken Bozer’s look of horror for Jack to excuse himself and take a lightning-fast shower in the gym. He was absolutely loath to leave the med bay while Mac’s status was still so uncertain, but he wasn’t about to force Boze to spend the next few hours staring at his best friend’s blood.

And, he had to admit, he did feel ever so slightly better when he wasn’t leaving red fingerprints wherever he went.

The four of them collectively leapt to their feet when Mac’s doctor appeared in the waiting room doorway. Jack dimly recognised her as the woman who had been in charge of the trauma response team he’d met earlier.

“Agent MacGyver is stable,” she announced, then paused to let the room breathe a sigh of heart-rending relief. “The wound was severe and he lost a lot of blood, but we’ve been able to repair the damage to his thoracic cavity and we’re hopeful his lung will make a full recovery within the next few months. The blood loss has put him at risk of shock, but we’re monitoring the situation and so far he’s not showing any of the expected signs. All in all, he has been extremely lucky.”

Jack wanted to point out that being lucky would have involved not getting shot in the first place, but he was waylaid from saying so by Riley flinging herself into his arms and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He gripped her back just as tightly.

“He’s going to be okay,” Riley was whispering, more to reassure herself than anything. Tears welling in his eyes again, Jack could relate.

“Can- Can we see him?”

The doctor’s smile was indulgent. “Normally, I would say no. He’s still under sedation and he needs his rest, but I’m given to understand that if I try to enforce that rule you’ll break it anyway. So, I’m going to say yes, you can see him, on the condition that you don’t disturb him. Agreed?”

“I’ll keep them in line,” Matty put in firmly, shooting the three of them a widely-cast look that said they’d suffer the consequences if they did anything they shouldn’t.

All Jack wanted was to see Mac. Nothing else mattered beyond that. When the doctor nodded and stepped out the door, he was already half a pace behind her.

Despite the nature of the work they did, the Phoenix’s medical bay wasn’t actually that extensive. Most serious medical emergencies were dealt with by whatever hospital or clinic happened to be local; Phoenix medical was instead typically primed for day-to-day check-ups and monitoring of long-term recoveries, the type of thing that agents would actually be in LA to worry about. There was a handful of biomedical labs used for research, but mostly the trauma centre confined itself to a single corner of the building.

Nonetheless, the walk to Mac’s room felt like it took an age. At some point, the other three appeared to silently agree they should hang back and give Jack a minute alone, which he was both crippling grateful for and terrified of, but anything else he was feeling fled the second he stepped into his partner’s room and saw him for the first time.

His immediate reaction was that Mac looked a hell of a lot better than he had the last time Jack had laid eyes on him, but then, he had been literally dead. It would have been hard for the bar to be any lower. A more keen observation took in the spiderweb of machines and IV lines crisscrossing Mac’s torso, the oxygen mask perched on his face, and the unnatural pallor to his skin that spoke of too much blood loss. Still, he was breathing and his heart monitor was beeping peacefully and that-

Jack drew in a shaky breath. It was a lot to take in. Just this morning they’d been making their way into the office and Mac had been telling him about the reaction he was planning on setting up later that day – something about investigating whether he could use a new polymer blend to increase the stab resistance of their Kevlar vests – and now, here he was. He was alive and breathing, but with a new hole punched through his chest because someone out there had decided Jack’s wrath was an insufficient deterrent for hurting his kid. It was a mistake that Jack would be all too happy to correct.

But not quite yet. All of that could come later – right now, all he wanted to do was stay with his partner and remind himself that he was still breathing and Jack’s failure had not cost him everything. With that in mind, he slipped his hand into Mac’s limp one, sat himself in the chair pulled up beside the bed, and settled in for the long haul.

“I know you can’t hear me just yet slick, but when you wake up, you and I are gonna have a long talk about all of this. You can’t keep doing this to me man. My heart can’t take it.” He reached out his free hand and smoothed back the hair that had flopped into Mac’s eyes, taking the opportunity to feel for a temperature and finding only cool skin.

“Don’t you worry about that right now though. You just get some rest. We’ll all be right here when you wake up.”

#MacGyver #angus macgyver #jack dalton #fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfic #whump of july 2021

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angel-tries-to-write · 5 years ago

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Tease

Rating: Teen and and up, mild sexual content Pairing: Mac x gender neutral reader (at least I tried) Word count: 3692

You've been dancing around each other for years, time to shine now. I suck at summaries, if you hadn't noticed yet.

You two have been teasing each other forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but definitely since you've met for the first time. You've been recruited to CIA by Matty Webber straight from college and a couple of years later you were offered a job in Phoenix Foundation, where she had transferred earlier. Director Webber wanted to have you in her team, so it was obvious that sooner or later you were going to meet the other agents. Especially this particular agent, whose blue eyes and smug grin made your heart jump a little in a way you didn't like, and you didn't know whether you wanted to punch him or kiss him. Both were really tempting. None of you seemed to be aware of the fact, that you couldn't even talk like normal people. Every one of your conversations just had to become the aggressive flirting that you were oblivious of. Not even constant 'get a room!'s managed to give you a hint of what you were exactly doing. Well, there just had to come the time when things started to get out of the hand.

You loved missions which required wearing a formal dress, heavy make-up and attending a fancy party. You liked blending in, pretending to be someone else and having way more fun than you were supposed to. Currently you were sitting by the bar, sipping slowly some probably expensive drink, which you almost spat out when a man sat nearby. The characteristic smell of his cologne gave you goosebumps, made your knees weak and sent a strike of heat into your lower abdomen. You knew that scent very well, it was sandalwood. One of your big turn-ons. No one said it was going to be an easy mission. You tried to breathe, but it wasn't helping at all, luckily, the man hadn't stayed nearby for long. He ordered his drink and went away right after getting it, only then you could let out a sigh of relief. It'd be better to keep that secret. The universe, on the other hand, had different plans.

A few minutes later Mac and Jack identified the target of your mission. They've been chasing it currently and you'd gladly help if you wore some comfortable shoes. Or at least you could run more carelessly, without having to mind your steps. You joined them only when they lost the track of the target. You walked into the almost empty room and you felt the same feeling you had at the bar. That familiar scent again.

“Don't waste your time, (y/n), we already checked there” said Dalton, trying to hide how disappointed he was.

“Who do we even chase?” you asked. That couldn't be a coincidence that you smelled this cologne here.

“This man” Mac showed you a photo of the man you've seen earlier at the bar. Bingo! That's why you smelled his cologne.

“Well, then he has to be here” you entered the room and looked around. The faint scent seemed to be stronger by one of the walls. You looked closely and saw a narrow chink in the wall, hidden under the decorative wallpaper. Clever, Mr. Bad Guy, but not clever enough. “There. Something is here.”

The two agents exchanged a surprised look and approached to see what did you find. None of them could understand how did you do that.

“Not bad for you” Mac teased and started to work his magic to open whatever was in this wall.

A few hours later the mission was completed and you were on your way home.

“Hey, (y/n)” Jack spoke suddenly. “How did you find that dude?”

“My secret” you answered, not even opening your eyes you closed a few moments ago.

“Tell me” he pleaded like a kid.

“Fine. I smelled his cologne. It contained sandalwood and it's my favorite scent” you admitted, too tired to resist.

“Isn't it an aphrodisiac?” Riley asked, rising an eyebrow.

“What's that?” asked Jack.

“Basically you smell it and you get horny” explained Bozer, not bothering to be subtle.

“Well, it doesn't work on me this way. I just think it smells nice” you lied, trying to avoid comments. You started to worry that Mac wasn't saying anything, you hoped he was asleep or lost in thoughts, but it wasn't really possible. You bet he was up to something and you were sure you would find out what soon.

A couple of days later Matty called in the team. You were first in the war room, sitting on the armchair and checking something on your phone. You barely noticed the others coming in, except for one person. You first smelled, then felt his presence, finally seeing him. On the armrest of your chair was sitting your favorite blonde boy and he smelled like never before. You could easily identify sandalwood in his new cologne and it smelled so good on him, that you couldn't focus on anything else, feeling your arousal rising.

“(Y/n), are you alright?” you heard Matty's voice. “You seem distracted” she said and you could only imagine how big shit-eating grin Mac had to suppress.

“Sorry. I got a slight concussion on the last mission” you lied easily. “It must've impacted on me a little.”

“So that's how we call Mac from now on? A concussion?” Bozer muttered to Riley and they both chuckled quietly.

“I heard that” you said, sending them your best death glare.

“Girl, I'm just saying you look weird since he entered the room, it's not my fault I'm this observant” typical Boz tried to save his butt as usual.

“Can we focus on the debriefing, please?” you snapped angrily. “Having fun, Macgyver, aren't you?” you growled quietly, making sure he's the only one who heard it.

“You have no idea” he replied, very amused indeed.

After a few days you managed to get used to his new scent, especially after one situation. You were in the field, under the fire, waiting for a bomb to explode and therefore Mac's trap to work. When it went off, you two acted by a pure instinct, he pulled you into his chest and you clung to him, burying your face in his shirt. You regretted it immediately, he smelled like your favorite cologne and sweat with a faint tone of metal and chemicals, which was a surprisingly good mix. Of course you remembered enough biology to know it was no magic or silly love, but a chemical reaction. His pheromones just happened to be very compatible with your nose and brain, which was of course problematic, but not weird or something. And it was easier to tell yourself that, instead of admitting you were in love. Anyway, when you got used to this new scent, it was easier to stay focused. Although you were about to find out, that things were about to get worse. Or maybe better? Depends on the point of view.

It was just a regular celebration of Mac's birthday. Gifts, cake, party in his home. The usual. One thing that was different, was Jack, who made you all participate in a karaoke session. He obviously didn't take 'no' for an answer. The good part of it was that he let everyone pick their song, so you could sorta punish him.

“Come on, (y/n), your turn!” Dalton commanded. You typed the title in the searching bar and everyone groaned?

“Really, dude? Despacito? The most popular and annoying song no one knows lyrics of?” Bozer was clearly unamused.

“I know the lyrics and I think it's beautiful” you protested.

“Do you know it to the point to not watch the screen?” asked Jack and you knew he was up to something.

“I do. But I'm not going to dance, if that's what you're thinking about” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

“How did you-”

“I just knew” you shrugged. “But I think I might have a little problem, since I don't know the original version, just a cover I adore. And it'll be hard to get an instrumental version for this cover.”

“Then pick a different one, come on, we don't have all night for this” Riley rushed you.

“But I want this one. To make sure Jack will never come up with such a terrible idea again.”

“I can always play for you” offered Mac and you all but Bozer looked at him surprised. “What? I'm not a pro, but I'm also not bad. Besides I think I know which song you have in mind” he said getting up and he took the guitar that was always in his house and everyone simply ignored it. You found the right chords for him and after a few moments Mac was ready.

He started very similarly to the original version, even playing a bit Latino way, pulling the strings separately, not in a classic way.

Comin' over in my direction So thankful for that, it's such a blessin', yeah Turn every situation into heaven, yeah Oh, you are My sunrise on the darkest day Got me feelin' some kind of way Make me wanna savor every moment slowly, slowly

You started with a shyness and hesitation, your cheeks blushed while singing, especially in English. When the Spanish lyrics started, you felt more confident. No one could understand you anyway.

¡Oh! Tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal (You, you’re the magnet and I’m the metal) Me voy acercando y voy armando el plan (I’m getting closer and coming up with a plan) Solo con pensarlo se acelera el pulso (oh yeah) (Just thinking about it accelerates my pulse) Ya, ya me está gustando más de lo normal (I’m already enjoying it more than normal) Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más (All of my senses are asking for more) Esto hay que tomarlo sin ningún apuro (This has to be done without a hurry)

Despacito (Slowly) Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito (I want to breathe your neck slowly) Deja que te diga cosas al oído (Let me whisper things in your ear) Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo (That you’ll remember when you’re not with me) Despacito (Slowly) Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito (I want to undress you with kisses slowly) Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto (Sign the walls of your labyrinth) Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (And turn your body into a manuscript)

As the song continued, you couldn't tear your eyes off Mac. You knew you were singing for him, that your feelings were flowing through you. The second part of the song was different, however.

The club isn't the best place to find a lover So the bar is where I go Me and my friends at the table doing shots Drinking fast and then we talk slow (despacito) Over and start up a conversation with just me And trust me I'll give it a chance now Take my hand, stop, put Van the Man on the jukebox And then we start to dance, and now I'm singing like

Girl you know I want your love Your love was handmade for somebody like me Come on now follow my lead I may be queasy, don't let me see

Oh boy Ya no hablemos más (Let's not talk anymore) Toma mi cuerpo y frótalo contra ti (Take my body and rub it against you) Ven y sígueme hasta el fin (Come and follow me to the end) Ven, ven y sígueme hasta el fin (Come, come and follow me to the end)

I'm in love with the shape of you We push and pull like a magnet do Although my heart is falling too I'm in love with your body Last night you were in my room And now my bed sheets smell like you Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with your body

Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I I'm in love with your body Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I

Oh, despacito This is how we do it down in Puerto Rico I just wanna hear you screaming, "¡Ay, Bendito!" I can move forever cuando esté contigo (when you are with me) ¡Bailalo! (Dance!) Pasito a pasito, suave suavecito (Step by step, gentle gently) Nos vamos pegando, poquito a poquito (We’ll get closer, little by little) Cuando tú me besas con esa destreza (When you kiss me with that skill) Veo que eres malicia con delicadeza (I see that you are malice with delicacy)

This part was definitely about Mac, he was just the real life definition of "malicia con delicadeza". Well, you were ready to admit that maybe you would like to do all what the song was about and a lot of more. After this part, the end was just a formality, you didn't actually need it.

Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I Despacito Oh I, oh I, oh I, oh I Come on, be my baby, oh yeah

You finished the song and finally looked at the others. They were genuinely impressed by either you, Mac or both. Jack was speechless and you thought it was the best thing that could ever happen, at least you could appreciate a few moments of silence before they started to talk. Bozer spoke first, complimenting both of you, the others joined him quickly.

After a few hours of having a good time it was time to say goodnight. Matty left first, then Bozer with Leanna, Riley, and Jack was the last one. You were supposed to leave either, but you wanted to stay and help with the cleaning. No one could convince you to not do that, because you were this type of a friend who would always clean up, even if you were a guest. Besides you felt in the house comfortable enough to not care and just casually start to wash the dishes.

“Are you doing that to spend more time with me?” Mac asked, when he finished his part of the cleaning. You were almost done either.

“Of course not. I really don't like to leave a mess, even if I'm a guest. Besides, I know it's easier to clean up together than on your own” you answered honestly, giving him a smile. You hadn't drunk much, but enough to feel his presence more intensively than usually.

“I appreciate that a lot” he said and started to do something around the kitchen while you finished your job. It was almost like he wanted to spend more time with you.

“You know, I've been thinking... maybe we should go out from time to time? Like... just the two of us” he said after a while.

“Are you asking me for a date?” you looked at him slightly surprised. Was that possible he felt about you the same way you felt about him?

“I guess I am” he looked at you with his adorable puppy expression and you couldn't help but giggle.

“Then I guess I say yes” you answered and before you thought, you quietly added in Spanish: “Besides, you're so cute it's hard to say no.”

“I bet not as cute as you singing that song and thinking no one understands you” he replied also in Spanish and you were grateful you finished washing the dishes, because you would certainly drop whatever was in your hands if they weren't empty. Your face paled, then reddened furiously.

“I... No... It's...” you tried to say something, but words didn't want to form in your head. How could you be naive enough to think he doesn't know Spanish? This golden boy obviously could do everything.

“Hey” he put his hand on yours, but you took it away.

“Stop before I'll do something I'm going to regret” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes.

“Let me do something first.”

“Okay.”

As soon as he heard your permission, Mac leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. That was certainly not something you expected, but you didn't waste your chance and kissed him back. You wanted to both stay and run away, torn between listening to your mind and heart.

“I should be going” you whispered finally between kisses, but clearly not wanting to let him go.

“Stay” Mac pleaded and his fingers ghosted over the skin under the hem of your t-shirt.

“I want to, but I really shouldn't.”

“Baby, it's cold outside” he purred, kissing your neck. You smiled widely but your breath hitched.

“Alright. So where would I sleep?” you asked teasingly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly.

“In my bed?” he followed the game, sliding his hands under your clothes.

“But I have no pj's” you smirked, exposing his chest which you traced gently with your fingertips.

“You won't need them” he kissed you hungrily and lifted you up, then carried you to the bedroom. Not that you minded.

When you woke up in the morning, you didn't actually know whether you were supposed to be happy or scared. Or maybe both. Last night was either making your dreams come true, or a total disaster and the end of your friendship. Everything depended on what Mac thought about it. But the blond agent was still asleep, so you got up silently, took his shirt and left the bedroom. You didn't take any of your things, in case Macgyver woke up. You didn't want him to think you vanished and left him all alone. And you were right, by the time you came back with breakfast, he was awake.

“You scared me” he said and yawned.

“Why?” you asked, putting the tray on the nightstand and sitting comfortably in bed before you put in on your lap.

“I woke up and you weren't there. I thought you left, but then I saw your clothes.”

“It would be difficult to go anywhere outside without them” you chuckled, cutting a bit of the pile of pancakes with a fork and then offering it to Mac. “Besides, I didn't even want to go. I was just hungry. And I wanted to think what to do next” you explained, taking another bit yourself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we should talk about us. Without teasing and jokes, just seriously talk about our feelings and-”

“I love you.”

These three words silenced you for good. Jack told you once that you and Mac have too big brains for your own's sake and you tend to overanalyze simple stuff. While relationships, according to Dalton, were no quantum physics, these stuff were simple. Well, you could swear physics was more simple than dating. But apparently Mac listened to his friend and decided to think less, act more.

“I... totally didn't expect that” you admitted, still shocked.

“I thought it was obvious. All that flirting, teasing, your favorite cologne... Everyone knew. They told me last night” he said sheepishly.

“You know what they say, "love is blind"? I was so in love that I didn't see anything at all. I seriously want to laugh at my own stupidity” you giggled, trying your best to not spill the coffee. “I was sure that if you ever found out how I feel about you, it would ruin our friendship. I was too focused on hiding my own feelings that I didn't notice yours.”

“We would make a perfect couple” Mac chuckled and kissed you.

“We will make a perfect couple” you corrected him, breaking the kiss. “You don't really think I could give up now? I love you too, Macgyver, whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, I do” he smirked. “Let's eat and I'll show you how much I like it.”

“Sounds fair. Unless you tease me again.”

“I can start to. As soon as we finish” he took the fork you held and fed you with pancakes just like you did before. Once you finished, he unbuttoned his shirt you were wearing and kissed you.

Of course it was the perfect moment for Matty to call. You wanted to suggest he shouldn't answer, but you knew a little too well that she would kill you both.

“Hey, Matty, what's up” Mac answered the phone with a speaker, so you could hear the boss too. He used a very convincing sleepy voice.

“I'm sorry to wake you up, but there's an emergency. Get ready and better be in war room in an hour. Also, do you know anything about (Y/n)? Her phone is dead and she didn't reach her home last night.”

“I'm sure she's fine” he said as you literally held your breath.

“Mac, this is serious, if something happened to her, I will search the whole world until I find her.”

“I mean it, Matty. I assure you she's fine.”

“Do you happen to know something I don't?”

“Maybe...” he tried and you sighed. There was no point in trying to fool her.

“Just don't tell Jack, okay?” you spoke. “And Bozer or Riley.”

“I'll just say it's about time. In this case I guess I can give you two hours” Matty's voice sounded way more amused than you wanted her to be.

“It's fine, we were about to get up anyway” you said embarrassed.

“No, you weren't, don't try to fool me. I know you better than you think and Ican tell you counted on a lazy day in bed.”

“Okay, enough. See you in Phoenix” you said and Mac ended the call, agreeing with you.

“So, we have two hours. I suggest we should use them well” he smirked and for the first time you didn't have the dilemma whether you want to punch him or kiss him. You just leaned in and kissed him hard. These two hours were going to be the best used time in your life. You were sure of it.

A/N: Used song is obviously “Despacito x Shape of You” by my favorite Pentatonix

#macgyver #macgyver 2016 #macgyver cbs #mac x reader #macgyver x reader #my fic

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allabouttherelationship · 5 years ago

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Mac and Riley, Just Roommates

Chapter 2

Following Season 4, episode 9

Mac glared fixedly at the numbers again, scrawled in sequence in Russ’s penmanship. Not that he had required them written down. The sequence replays precisely, 44, 8, 2, 12, 11, 75, 7, 31, 51, 77, 2, 11, 38, 53, 51, 77, 2, 11. It was the final communication from Oversight, James Macgyver, his father, with the words “you’ve got that son?” tagged with intention on the end.

To say that it had been the nastiest two weeks of his life, was well, a gross understatement. One Mac compared to the words written by James Watson and Francis Crick in 1953, proposing the double helical structure of DNA. Most famous among scientists for its coyness and underestimation and for the significance of its prediction.

He experienced angst, Codex was real and still out there, his mom had been a DSX agent underwriting a dooms day project, he had a mysterious living aunt bent on murdering ¼ of the world’s population, his father, absent from most of his life was now permanently dead, and with the slam of a button he had chosen a husband and father to die to save a city.

Elbows stationed on his work bench, Mac rested his hefty head in the palms of his hand. Then vehemently pushes himself back from the bench in a grunt of defeat, his metal stool clanging to the wood floor. He scowled at it, his chest expanding and contracting in patchy breaths.

“You break it you buy it” Mac overhears alongside him.

Mac guardedly lifts his head, his stare in concentration on Riley’s face. She bestowed him a slight, but deliberate smile, just cresting at the corners of her lips. Mac knew that his hesitancy had been routed in fear, but he immediately treasured it was unnecessary with Riley. Bozer, Matty, Desi and Russ had come at him with sympathy, completely a fitting retort but regrettably not desired and hostile to the blocks of Jenga precariously towered around his emotions. Riley’s approach had mirrored Mac’s instinctive response. From the moment in the war room, in which Mac verbally acknowledging his father was dead but had believed Mac to be the only one to stop Codex, Riley was steady with “so what are we doing now?” It should not have staggered him, Riley seemed a tuned to what he needed at any given moment, even when he himself was cluelessness.

Riley sauntered in front of him, bending down to recover the lifeless stool. While doing so, she gives Mac clear vision of her well-proportioned backside. Mac experiences a piercing intake of breath, permitting his eyes to remain a fixed. He had unequivocally not forgotten their exchange that morning, just a few weeks ago, following the evening Riley had moved into his place. At least this reaction to a spectacular view, supported Mac in concluding that despite the trauma of the last weeks that he wasn’t completely dead inside. Overall, he had had zero time to scrutinize what had transpired previous between them.

Riley travels to the other side of the work bench. “Still working out what your dad was trying to communicate?” she questions. Mac nods in affirmation, his brows knit once again into a downward “v” and he repositions his worn-out body on the, now, upright stool opposite her. Mac then spits out the exact words he had used after the viewing his father’s abnormal farewell message, and while his computer famed out “so much for closure”… adding, “he just leaves me a puzzle”

“Hey Mac”, Riley starts gradually “I know that your dad often lacked in the father-like department.” Mac approves with a slight snort. “But he was always your dad. And as your dad he believed in you. Even in his last moment or message he trusted you to be the person to figure this out”, Riley pointed directly at the mess of numerals on the page. “You got this Mac” she whispers, the same line as she had stated previously and habitually, in his dire moments. Mac just continuous stares intently at Riley. Riley continues, “but Roomie, you have been at this for days, without sleep or food, you need a break, a distraction”. Mac immediately thinks to open his mouth to protest. Anticipating this Riley, leans gracefully across the work bench and places her index finger to his lips. “Trust me” she begs.

Her finger was the only point of contact, but it was resting gently it was against Mac’ s lips. Riley was beyond the point of lying to herself, she had experienced agonizing day dreams about Mac’s mouth. Her point of connection registers for her the tiniest explanation of the texture which is warm and firm. Unhurriedly, she allows her finger to drop. Although very pleasing, she is criticizing her own activities given all Mac has experienced the past weeks, telling herself this maybe poor timing.

Mac clears his voice, “What did you have in mind?”. Riley’s face lights up, as she hears a slight tease in his voice, and sees the smallest of childlike sparkle in his eyes.

“How about heading out, grabbing a slice at the arcade, let me school you again in Ski-ball” Riley jokes. “Davis, you may have schooled me once, but I will knock that Ski-ball crown off your pretty little head” he says in a challenging voice, he pauses “but not in the mood for crowds…”

“So then we’ll stay in… a binge watch of the Fringe?”, she queries. Riley is aware it is one of Mac’s beloved Sci-fi’s. Mac’s grin is genuine. Riley accepts this as confirmation she has nailed her suggestion. She erects her cell from her back pocket, starts dialing “Ill order a greasy wheel, you grab the bubbles”.

Hours later, they make it to season 3 episode 3, Riley pauses the show seeking explanation, “wait didn’t Milo calculate that Olivia would die in the car chase? Mac nods in agreement, and casually states “spoiler alert, she is from the alternate cosmos, and Peter is going to bang her doppelganger”. Riley had been mid-glup of her beer, his stark comment shocked her, resulting in the beer spraying from her lips. It covered the coffee table, floor and Mac. She covered her mouth in horror, as Mac’s eye brow’s raised. Unable to contain it, a boisterous laugh rippled from her chest, Mac joined in, his laugh equally animated.

Riley stands, “I’ll case down a towel from the kitchen”. Mac stands as well, glazing down at the splattering across his t-shirt. Mac reaches his arm behind head to grab his shirt, he whips it off in one fluid motion, as Riley arrives directly in front of him. Riley stares hungrily at the expanse of Mac’s chest, her eyes drifting downward over his chiseled abs and navel sitting just above expertly hung jeans. Mac registers his reactions, feels his chest puff and Riley’s eyes searing a path of heat down his body. He watches as Riley lifts her hand holding a t-towel and touches it to his pectoral. Then the t-towel flitters to the ground. Riley’s finger tips, graze his scar at the top of his chest, he observers her unconsciously but greedily licks her lips.

Mac starts reciting a few digits of Pi in an attempt to control his own physical reactions. He eyes grow wide as saucers as Riley leans forward to set her mouth to expanse she had been caressing. Her lips pleasantly sting his skin. Mac’s head falls back as a groan escapes.

They both lift their heads, eyes locked together. In a flash motion, Mac reaches his hand to tangle in Riley hair. He aggressively pulls her face towards him, smashing their lips together. His body feels like an immovable mass, rooted in this position. Mac briefly registers the science behind kissing, his internal monologue acknowledging the field of philematology, the complicated study of kissing. Lips having more nerve ending that any other part of the human body, and when pressed against one another the brain goes into overdrive releasing oxycotin, dopamine and serotoin, direct to the pleasure center of the brain. Riley fragments her lips and sweeps her tongue past Mac’s teeth. This action obliterates every scientific explanation, all Mac could do now is sense and feel. Her cashmere lips continue to shove eagerly against his, while her tongue strokes his with skill. She tastes zesty, subtle notes of tomato sauce and pepperoni. He hears her make quiet mews of pleasure which go straight to his gut, and marks his own moan resonating in his head. He feels a lust induced haze, anticipation, and desire.

Mac tugs away, only because he necessitates oxygen, his clutch remains impenetrable on the back of her neck.

Probing her eyes, Mac is able to squeak out, “Riley where is this going?”

Riley smirks with sugar in her grin, “I was banking on your bedroom?”

Mac scenes fissures of electricity shoot into the room. He reaches down lifting Riley under the thighs to straddle his torso, effortlessly, like she is air. Riley buries her hands in his thick locks messaging his scalp. He walks in long deliberate strides towards his room. He sinks them both, sitting evenly on the bed, Riley still straddling his hips. Hands decisively on his upper body, Riley leads Mac back to lay on the bed, looking at him like a cat downing a canary. It is like a black hole pulling him in, until his gravity is lost under her touch. His solid hands seek out Riley’s hips, fingers skating beneath the edging of her shirt and thumbs making spellbinding circles against her silky abdomen. The blood flowing through his body feels like a jackhammer, as he registers the slow growing tension against the fly of his jeans. Riley trails him downward, inserting her hands either side of his head, she plasters hot kisses the apex of his erratic pulse and across foundation of his square jaw.

Mac’s cell phone sings and vibrates from jean pocket muted under Riley’s thigh. The ring tone being “She’s the boss” Mick Jagger hit from 1985, which signals Mac is the Matty. He digs in his pants for the phone, “What is it?” Mac answers, clearly in frustration. Matti’s voices rings out, “Woah Blondie, a reminder of who you are talking too. Get your ass to the Phoenix, you are wheels up in 3, got a lead from the recovered data at the explosions site. “I’ll ring Riley and the rest of the team” Matty ends. Mac, lets out a ragged breath, “no need to call Riles, I will let her know.”

Riley hikes herself off Mac’s body to a standing position at the edge of the bed. Mac perceives that, like him, her breathing remains labored. He rises himself, planting his feet directly in her personal space. Gazing with promise in his voice “Riles, this is not over…”, Riley’s 110 watt smile radiates as she responds, “I’m counting on that boy wonder!”. She swaggers form his bedroom to get ready for the op, offering him a swift wink.

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laughing-with-god · 6 years ago

Text

Pandemonium VI

Words; 5.1k

“And where would I be? Feeling lonely...separated from my one and only. So please, don’t take my love away. Let my baby stay.” - Mac Demarco

“I mean...it is rather nice of him to do that.”

You shrugged at Kat, still on the fence on whether or not to have a positive or negative reaction to the anecdote.

You had just informed her on the call you had received just a couple of hours ago, the one concerning a certain artist paying off your mom’s medical bills.

Even you (a very stubborn person) had to admit that having that expense paid was a giant weight off you and your families’ shoulders.

But at what cost?

You recalled his cunning and sly smiles, further proof that his intentions may not be all that innocent. All you needed to find out was his motive for doing this. That would connect this puzzle and ease your mind of the enigma that was Taehyung. But the more you thought about it, the more puzzled you became. He was flirtatious but just you thought someone was cute, doesn’t mean it will justify paying off their injured mothers’ medical bill (that was at least a couple grand).

But, this was a rich kid you were talking about.

Money was as familiar to him as water was to fish.

He spent thousands like you spent monopoly money. Little to no care of real life consequences.

“I just wish for some context. Like what the fuck?” You asked your friend. Kat just nodded as she walked beside you, half listening to you but half paying close attention to the shops you guys passed.

“Yeah, it is very odd. You did say this was Jimin’s younger brother, right? Perhaps he heard about Jimin snapping and coming to our dorm so he figured he should apologise on Jimin’s behalf.” At the mention of Jimin’s name, your face went stony and expressionless.

You didn’t want to tell Kat about your day, about how Jimin went so far as to show up outside your class, clearly looking for you. You didn’t want to bring up his name ever again, especially in front of Kat. The last thing you wanted was for her to be reminded of your crazed sugar daddy and how he dared assault her. Hell, you didn’t want to think about your craptastic day.

You just sighed and agreed to let the topic drop, for now at least.

“I guess that makes sense. You’re very smart, Kat.”

She just laughed, used to you complimenting her IQ when you were just being over-dramatic and lacked the use of yours. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks which caused you to do so as well. Her elfish face looked up and grinned up at the sign of a certain small shop.

“We’re here.”

The overwhelming floral scent hit your nostrils, causing you to scrunch up your nose in slight disgust. You never got why people hyped up the smell of flowers...the citrus and perfumey smell gave you a slight headache when given to you in heavy doses.

“Kat, I really don’t think this is needed.” You murmured to you friend. She waved you off and guided you to the short line.

“This place is the most well-known florist shop in our city, (Y/n). Trust me, your aunt and mom will love this. And it’s always proper etiquette to send something when a family member is in the hospital.”

You rolled your eyes, “Sis, I literally spent days with her at the hospital. I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear as far as etiquette goes.”

Kat wasn’t hearing it. “Maybe after seeing our nice ass flowers, your aunt will get off your dick.” She laughed while rubbing her hands together.

“Okay I’m gonna act like you’re not just using my mom’s accident as an excuse to look at some flowers.”

If Kat heard you, she ignored it as she began to list off the different kinds of flowers that would be good in this situation. She really was a tumblr bitch whom was addicted to these types of things. You fondly smiled, you rather her be like this than the way you saw her yesterday. Shaken and afraid.

The line moved as one more customer was served. At this moment, Kat’s phone rung and her cheerful face slid into a more somber expression.

“I need to take this, it’s Cynthia.” You let her go, knowing just how thin and frail the foundation of their relationship currently was. Now you stood alone in the line, waiting for your turn.

With nothing to do, you couldn’t help but overhear the guy who was in front of you and talking to the worker.

“I don’t know much about flowers but I just need something to send to my friend, he just got married last week and I couldn’t make the wedding..” His voice was velvet smooth and neither high-pitched nor low.

All you could see was the backside of this man. He was tall and rather lean. Shoulders were wide, but they had a delicate droop downwards, giving his posture a relaxed but consecutive posture. His neck was long (at least the back of it was) and sat on top of his head was a perfectly brushed mop of black hair.

The worker just nodded and began to work on getting an order together for him. You supposed that they got that all the time, people just coming in and asking for flowers without knowing what is called for.

“I can take the next person in line!”

You moved up to the area beside the other worker and that mystery guy as an older lady waved you over to her work station. “What can I do for you, sweets?”

Words were caught in your throat. Fuck, it was Kat who was supposed to be doing all of this. You decided to follow that other guys’ lead and just tell her the situation so she can come up with the appropriate set up.

“Yeah, I need flowers delivered to my mother’s house. She got into a car accident and I can’t be with her as much as I’d like.” the older lady gave you a sympathetic look as she began to lay down some paper to wrap the the flowers in.

“Do you have a particular color in mind?” She asked, sensing your lack of knowledge. You shrugged.

“I don’t know.. My friend mentioned doing something multi-colored?” You trailed off, trying to recall bits of Kat’s rambling.

“Well, we just got some lilies in. They come in white, pink, red, orange and yellow.”

“Can we do white and pink?” She nodded and smiled.

“Did you mention this will be getting delivered? “ You nodded and she handed you a paper that needed to be filled out before heading towards the back to get the flowers.

While putting down the address and zip code of your moms’ house, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being watched.

You looked over and it was the guy who was in front of you just moments before, instead this time he was facing you head on.

His face was long and slender, just like his body. Chin was in a perfect V-shape, lips were wide and pink while currently being pulled back in a chesire grin. His teeth were tall and pure white. His nose was high rised, but had a smooth and perfect arch. It was long without being too big and was weirdly the best nose you’ve ever seen. Although his face was slim, his cheeks held a good amount of flesh on them, and they caused his eyes to crinkled while smiling. His eyes were ink-black, but deep set and held a glossy look over them that made them appear slightly watery. They were slightly swollen as well, giving them the appearance of cuteness and surrounded by dense eyelashes. Sort of like an anime character. The man was currently wearing a denim jacket, white shirt and black jeans.

You made eye contact and he just continued to stare at you.

You huffed.

Why the fuck were men addicted to staring?

“Can I help you?” You called out.

He nodded, smiling even wider if possible.

“What’s your name?”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s it to you?”

“I’ll pay for your order if you just give me your name.”

Instinctively, before you can process it, you had said, “(Y/n).”

He took a step towards you, now peering down at you. “Hello (Y/n), I’m Hoseok.”

You nodded but ignored his words and pushed the clipboard to him. “So like right here is where the card information comes in. Don’t forget to tip the delivery person too!” You shoved the paper in his face, making sure he won’t go back on his promise.

He laughed cheerfully, the sound like bells chiming as his eyes scrunched up to the point where you doubt he even could see through them, mouth widely ajar as more laughter escaped it.

“Your very funny, (Y/n).” He commented, looking at you up and down while still chuckling,

You nodded but couldn’t help but notice that he had yet to fulfill his side of the deal. You fake laughed but grabbed his hand and forcefully shoved him to the table along with the clipboard.

“HAhahA, yeah so the order should come out to like 30 or something and I don’t know about shipping costs but like here’s the pen and if you can just sign here and there, that’d be great.”

He laughed but did it nonetheless, signing off on paying for the order. Apparently, your pushiness was very humorous to him.

You gave hit back a pat on the back and said, “Thanks dude, but I gotta blast.”

He called out from behind you but you sprinted out of the shop, not wanting to give him the chance to regret paying for your flowers. Kat was outside still on the phone, you just dragged her along with you down the street, promising to explain later.

As a wise woman once said; men ain’t shit but walking dick with wallets.

“Is that really what you thought of me?” He laughed hard, bunny smile evident and and rounded teeth poking out.

“Listen sis, I just know a fuckboy when I see one and all my alarms were going off when I spotted your steroids headass.”

“For the last time, I’m not on steroids.”

“Yeah, you prob just snort protein powder like it’s crack. “

Jungkook laughed harder at that, hunching over in his seat.

At the moment, both of you were at the campus library. You had agreed to meet up for the project, not willing to risk your grade being compromised just because your partner was someone less than ideal. Also, he proved himself to be somewhat decent when he helped you sneak out when Jimin showed up. Quickly, you started to feel bad for assuming that he was trash. Throughout the study date, it became apparent that he was stuck in a fuckboy body, what laid under that was actually an easily flustered dork.

“(Y/n), you’re hilarious.” He giggled. You shrugged at this. You honestly weren’t that funny, people just didn’t expect girls to be able to crack decent jokes.

You two were sat at a table, side by side with papers and books spread out between you two. The library had large bookshelves that surrounded you, so tall that they almost reached the high ceilings and successfully blocked anyone from being able to see you and Jungkook unless they were at one of the other tables in the section. However, the place was very empty with the core inhabitants being the librarians themselves, plus Jungkook and you.

“Yeah, yeah. Listen, we got to find a way not to fail this class.” You told him, trying to turn the attention back to the work.

You had been there for roughly 20 minutes, but still nothing had been accomplished yet. Jungkook had wanted to know why you were at first so cold to him, and you honestly told him that he just had that stupid frat boy vibe and you were already in a grouchy mood in the mornings. He spent the next few minutes trying to convince you that he was actually a lame nerd. He listed off the things he did in hopes that your previous assumption of him would melt away. You had to admit, it worked rather well. The iron man obsession, the video game marathons, the IU posters and the hobby of photography and videography weren’t what you first pictured when you saw him. You thought of axe body spray, “nudes?”, stupid gym pictures of him flexing and party going along with all those other things that came along with being a fuckboy. You guess you were wrong.

“Basically, he just wants us to answer those questions onto a google presentation that we have to share with him.” Jungkook explained, also looking at the work now. You groaned.

“How am I supposed to be able to answer those questions when I wasn’t even here for that lesson?” You thunked your head against the table. “Jungkook you should consider curb stopping this professor. Like, your so big for no reason? You should take one for the team…”

“Is that all I am to you? A fucking right-hand man to send to handle your enemies?” Jungkook fake pouted, placing a hand onto his chest.

“Shit, kook. If I have a body builder for a friend, am I expected not to use him?” Jungkook sighed, bunny face relaxing into a lazy grin. He took out a few more things from his folder and handed it over to you.

“Here, I have the answers and notes from that lesson. Just copy it down so you can look it over whenever you need.” You nodded in thanks and began to copy his work over to your own blank sheets. It was quiet for a moment as Jungkook just fondly watched you do this, taking in your

side profile and adorable face expressions of concentration. He wanted to drink you in blissfully, not with a care in the world for anything but this moment. But something was preventing him from doing that. Something that bothered him.

“(Y/n)?” he asked gingerly.

“What?” You responded, not looking up from the scribblings of fast note-taking.

“Do I know that guy who you had to sneak past?”

This question caught you off guard. You looked up. “No. He doesn’t go here and he’s a bit older.”

“If he ever gives you any problems, you know you can call on me right?” This made you snort.

“Kook, you wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

He stared into you, eyes so dark and voice so bleak when he stated, “I can under the right circumstances.”

“KAT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE MY QUALITIES?!” You yelled from across the dorm from your spot on the loveseat.

“FUCK IF I KNOW!” She hollered right back from the bedroom. You grumbled and pondered a bit more.

‘Good team player, headstrong, analytical and grand ability to laugh at oneself.’ You typed this down while chuckling at how lame it sounded.

The next question popped up on the screen.

“KAT! WHY AM I A GOOD CANDIDATE FOR THIS POSITION?!” You screamed.

“SIS YOU’RE NOT!”

You ignored this while typing down, ‘In desperate need of experience and said position offers such qualifications.’

The job application was complete and sent.

Ever since you had cut off Jimin, you sworn off sugar daddies all together. But, this didn’t mean that income wasn’t needed. You decided to do things the old fashioned way instead of chilling with older and richer men for cash, and chose to start filling out job applications.

To be honest, you didn’t know how you were going to manage to take classes full time as well as work but you figured that you should at least try to talk to some employers about working. You sent applications everywhere. To fast food places, to clothing stores, to even personal assistant positions.

If you didn’t at least get one call back, you were going to shoot yourself.

Luckily, in a matter of two hours a call did come.

You had an interview tomorrow afternoon.

A skirt, a dressy top and heels is what you were currently wearing. You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror and honestly couldn’t recognize yourself.

You looked like such a corprate drone…

The business building was very nice as well as the bathroom that you were currently hiding in. You were one of the few people from the waiting room that were all interviewing for the position. It was to be a personal assistant of some business director.

The description mentioned that it would be all very easy work. Just managing the schedule and meetings he would have, getting coffee, and maybe picking up some dry cleaning here and there. Apparently this guy was a big deal because one letter of recommendation from him will almost guarantee a number of jobs.

But here you were, freaking out in the bathroom.

The other females in the waiting room all appeared to be very much determined to work for this guy. They looked more qualified and more comfortable with the setting that you just felt like a fool for even showing up. You would definitely be wasting the interviewer’s time. The other girls in there wore stilettos and carried fucking mini briefcases!

You took a deep breath and tried to cool off by spraying some cold water on your face, not enough to ruin your minimalist makeup. However, it would take a bit more to calm you down

You decided to make a quick call to Kat. You dialed her up and right away she picked up.

“So I’m having a panic attack in the bathroom before my interview….” You trailed off.

“Naturally.”

“Listen! I know I’m the queen of over reactions but I can’t help but feel like something really shitty is about to happen!”

At this moment, a woman who was way more prettier and confident than you’ll ever be in such a place, walked in to the bathroom during your little rant. She gave you a dirty look before disappearing in a bathroom stall. Embarrassment colored your cheeks.

“(Y/n), what the fuck can happen at an interview at a well respected business? Don’t freak yourself out and get back out there. Let’s get this bread.” Kat attempted to encourage you.

You just nodded and hung up given you were no longer alone in the bathroom and would feel more awkward to continue your meltdown.

‘Let’s get this bread indeed’ you thought with fake confidence, before leaving the bathroom.

As soon as you stepped back into the waiting room, a voice called out,

“(Y/n) (l/n)? Mr. Kim will see you now.” You halted in you steps before taking a deep breath and making your way up to the desk, heart pounding.

The secretary smiled at you sweetly and motioned for you to follow her.

You allowed yourself to be led to a conference room where she told you to just knock and wait for a response before going in.

You knocked on the large black door, lightly. Listening closely for your cue.

“Come in!” A light voice called out.

You opened the door and stepped inside.

It was a big room that had glass walls and a breathtaking view of the city’s skyline. There was a long table with about 10 seats sourrounding it smack dab center of the room. You guessed that this is where meetings were held.

A man was seated on one side of the table and began motioning for you to sit on the one right in front of him.

Currently, he was looking down at his laptop and typing away, glasses on and cup of coffee beside him. He still had yet to look up at you.

You supposed he did this one too many times today. The guilt of wasting his time hit you once again now that you had a face to put to the poor interviewer. And what a handsome face it was...

He had really wide and buff shoulders that was covered by a suit. His skin was extremely pale and free of any imperfections. Not so much as a single blemish tainted his face. A walking advertisement for any skin-care product he uses. His face was oval shaped and held a very sharp jaw. Chin prominent and square-ish to balance the slenderness of his cheeks. The lips were very pouty and dark, berry pink. His nose was straight and had a cute, fleshy bulbous at the end. At each side of his nose were one of his small and black eyes that were currently downcast. His eyes held slightly curled and coal black eyelashes, that matched his black hair that was charmingly tousled on top on his head. He looked like he was a high-class actor. It was almost hard to believe that someone could achieve such physical perfection without the help of plastic surgery. Not one feature about him was off-putting. You supposed someone as physically blessed as him must get used to the stares of women.

“(Y/n), is it?” His voice was high and soprano with a enchanting twinkle.

“Yes.” You simply answered.

He looked up for a brief glance to look back down at your resume, only to look back up at neck-break speed.

His eyes bulged a tad bit as they met yours once again.

A crooked smile spread across his face after a moment of just observing you.

“I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m the one who is looking for the assistant.” Your eyes widened a bit at this development.

Fuck, this whole ordeal just became a bit more intimidating.

“Well Ms. (Y/n), I’d love to get to know a bit more about the type of person you are.” He said while leaning forward against the table, placing his enthralling face on top of his propped hands.

You were a bit taken aback at how focused he was, and wondered if everyone got such treatment during their interviews.

“Umm...I-”

You were interrupted when the door opened and someone stepped inside. A husky voice asked,

“Jin, when is the meeting going to start? We all got shit to do you know and you’re taking up the whole conference room.”

Jin’s face dropped to a look of annoyance as he glared up at this unsaid person. “Yoongi, I’ll be done in a bit. I’m in the middle of a interview.” he looked back a you. “It will most likely be the last one for today. Miss. (Y/n) looks to be a very promising candidate…” He winked at you, confusing the hell out of you. You barely said anything about yourself and you knew damn well the info he had on you wasn’t exactly groundbreaking.

“Whatever, I’ll just tell the rest th-Wait.” The voice cut itself off. You heard footsteps get closer. “(Y/n)?”

You turned around.

And there stood that fucker from the bus.

“Yoongi?” You asked. He smiled, gummy and sweet.

Today he was wearing an armani suit (nothing like the hoodie you first saw him in) however his tie was still loosened which made you smile. Even in this type of environment, he still managed to be laidback and chill.

“What are you doing here, doll? Don’t tell me you’re trying to be Jin’s new assistant.” He droned, face bored but soft smile still present.

You nodded, nerves slowly melting away now that you saw a familiar face. You joked, “Do you mind putting a good word in for me, man?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Sorry babe but I don’t hate you enough to try to put you onto this job. Jin’s probably gonna have you position his hair dryer just right for him more than doing actual work.”

“Hey! Is that a way to talk about your older brother!” The handsome man seated in front of you yelled, facing turning slightly red.

Your jaw dropped at ‘brother’.

Before you can say anything, another voice added to the conversation, this time it came from right outside the now open door.

“What’s the hold up, guys? We promised dad to get the expense reports done today and I’m not working overtime.”

You looked over at the voice and almost shat yourself.

God wasn’t gonna let you outrun this for too long.

You ran from him originally but somehow you managed to run towards him without your knowing.

There stood Park Jimin.

“(Y/n)!” He exclaimed. He thrusted himself into the room and onto his knees before you, taking your hands into his. His eyes (that already were rather swollen and red) teared up as his cherub face glazed up at you.

“B-babygirl, I’m so happy to see that your okay! When you told me about your mom and the car accident I just felt so awful.” His voice broke as he hiccupped some more. “W-what can I do to help, (Y/n)? Please! Just tell me! I’ll do anything to earn a spot back into your life!”

He was full on sobbing at this point. Chubby and small face covered with tears as he pushed himself further onto your lap and closer to your face.

“You have the right to be upset with me, b-but you can’t just kick me out of your life! I’ll accept any punishment but that!”

Due to the commotion, you hear murmuring sounds come from outside the room. You couldn’t bring yourself to tear your eyes from Jimin and his usually joyful face that was now crumpled up with misery. A proud man who had everything was currently on his knees in front of you, begging just for some sort of contact with you and reassurance of your well-being. His unique and raspy voice sounded so raw and broken when crying out for you.

You patted his head, trying to get him to calm down to any extent.

He leaned into the action, reminding you of a kicked puppy who just craved affection from his owner.

You heard multiple footsteps enter the room, without a doubt here to witness the scene of businessman Jimin and his sudden breakdown. You decided to ignore the other personas in the room and try to reason with your former sugar daddy.

“Jimin, you attacked my roomate. I can’t forgive that.”

He jumped up at this, grasping at your waist and pulling you closer to him, apparently not caring if he wrinkled his fancy suit. “It’s a misunderstanding, I swear! Let me explain!”

You heard a harsh gasp that pierced the room so vividly that you just had to look up and see who it was.

There stood four men, watching the scene.

And you knew all of them.

Each and every single one.

“i have 6 brothers.” Jimin had told you this on the night of your first outing.

And like that, it connected.

All of it….. connected.

Like a puzzle you didn’t even knew existed until all the pieces were face to face with you, mocking your inability to solve it.

7 men who were all young, handsome and heirs to a multi-million dollar company ran by their father.

Like a Shakespearian drama, hell unleashed itself in the confined space of the conference room.

“You’re the crazy ex (Y/n) was talking about?!” Jungkook yelled, glaring at Jimin with his doe eyes know filled with pent-up aggression now that he knew whom was responsible for your fear.

“How the hell do you know her?” Hoseok demanded of Jungkook. This made the youngest of the bunch scoff.

“What do you mean how do I know her? We’re classmates! The question is how do you old, senile fucks know her?!” He hollered, addressing all of the other men in the room.

Jimin ignored this and tugged your face back to him. He just needed you to forgive him, he didn’t bother with his siblings at the moment. He had tunnel vision whenever you were in a room. Now more than ever, as your forgiveness was top priority.

“I didn’t attack Kat! (Y/N), you have to believe me! And why are you even interviewing for this job, baby? You know that as your sugar daddy that I’ll provide for you.” Jimin was holding you so close to him, afraid that something might just snatch you up if he wasn’t looking. Which was somewhat true given the particular scene…

“Sugar daddy?!” Seokjin gaped, shocked at the revelation.

“So she’s basically only with you for money…” Yoongi smirked, monotone voice expressionless as always. He was pleased because this meant your relationship with Jimin was very easily replaceable and not built off of true feelings on your side. He’d just offer you more money and tada! You were going to be his.

“Was. She was with him.” Jungkook corrected, crossing his arms.

Jimin snapped at this term, brain not willing to comprehend that it was over. Couldn’t they see that this was just a bump in the road for him and (Y/n)? He wanted them to shut up before they gave you ideas of keeping him away from you.

“Shut your fucking mouths! This is our relationship and our business. Not you nosy motherfuckers!” He growled at them, stunning you.

Your mind was so preoccupied at the moment. Even amongst this chaos.

How did you manage to run into all of them at once? In an office setting, nonetheless.

You’ve been to Jimin’s workplace before and it was a building that was on the other side of town. So, how the fuck are they all here?

“I thought the building on the West side of town was your guys’ family business.” You mumbled, dazed and confused. This was like a venus fly trap that you stumbled upon. You usually had more wit than this to willingingly walk into a messy situation.

“We have 3 different locations in the city, baby.” Namjoon said this while studying your concentrated face fondly. It was so cute when you thought so hard.

You eyes looked up to meet the one brother who had yet to speak.

He was the only one who looked unbothered with the whole ordeal, just watching it with aloofness and moderate entertainment at the digs they gave each other.

“Why did you pay off my mom’s bills?” You couldn’t help but ask him, not knowing if you’d ever get this chance again.

He smiled down at you, and even the other brothers stopped to study Taehyung, alarmed at your question.

He shrugged and asked, “Is it wrong to want to take care of my future mother-in-law?”

Author’s note: ALL MEMBERS ARE HERE NOW SO ALL ASKS ARE OPEN!! Also thank you all sooooo much for the support and esp the asks, I love doing them. Pls let me know what you think of this chapter and also you guys should feel free to send any questions you may have for me or just to say whatever you want. I love it.

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