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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

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A Million Times Over, part 1

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 11.3k holy shit this is so long guys. fuck.

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : some NSFW themes but no actual smut. a lot of pining and angst. some cute moments too tho!

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Originally I intended for this to just be a long fic… but even for my standards, this would be wayyy too long to be just in one post. I decided to split the fic into three instead, so this will be the first part of my very first multi-chap series, A Million Times Over, for my beloved Sho <3

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : big thank you to my sweet friend @todoscript for beta-reading this for me and hyping me up!! love you, can’t wait to read what you have in the works soon <3

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“.../n”

…

“.. y/n…”

…

🅃he buzzing noise in your ears sharpened. White light snuck between your eyelids and you groaned, fingers reaching toward your temple. Confusion burst forth as you recognized foreign, plastic tubing connected to your skin, your eyes opening wider as you began to register your surroundings.

You were in a hospital room. To be more exact, you were in the bed in the middle of the hospital room— meaning, you were the patient. The realization shocked you, and you jolted upright abruptly, suddenly all too aware of the tubes stuck up your nose. At your sudden movement, large, warm hands landed on your arms and rubbed at your skin gently, making your attention turn to the person sitting at your bedside.

“Y/n? Hey, you’re okay, love, it's alright. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” His voice was smooth and deep, an anchor for you to grab onto in the midst of your confusion.

You were gawking, staring straight at him— you couldn't help it. Your jaw was probably hanging open, gaping like a fish at the man before you. What were you in the hospital for exactly— had you gone insane and dreamed this situation up?

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“Sh-Shouto Todoroki,” you mumbled, gaze connected with his tired but bright, heterochromatic orbs. His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly at your courteous acknowledgement, but he brushed it aside and smiled at you instead.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you took in his form beside you. He was tall— you could tell even though he was seated— and he was more handsome than you’d ever imagined, somewhere in his mid-to-late twenties judging by the sharp, masculine features of his face.

“Y/n…,” he breathed out, a large, calloused hand coming up to cup your jaw. Then he pulled you into a hug, his strong, muscular arms wrapping around your torso and cradling the back of your head to press you into his chest. He smelled of clean laundry and winter, a crisp, fresh scent that made an unknown comfort blossom in your chest.

Slowly you placed an arm around his neck, your other hand laying limp on the sheets as it was still connected to the IV. You rubbed his back slightly, still dazed by your apparent situation. Looking outside the open window in the corner of the room, you realized it was daytime; yellow sunlight beaming into the room and pouring onto the tiled floor. There were vases of flowers all around the room, as well as stuffed animals, cards, and balloons that all wished for your health and speedy recovery.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Shouto whispered into your shoulder, still holding you tight in his embrace. His voice was still low, but this time it shook with profound emotion. “I missed you… so much.”

Your body felt relaxed in his arms, even though your brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. You had no clue how you’d ended up in the hospital, who sent you all these gifts, where you even were geographically, and most importantly, why Shouto Todoroki was holding onto you like you meant the world to him. You patted his back stiffly and he let go of you just enough to move his face in front of yours. His eyes held such love and relief, the emotions as clear as day that butterflies ruptured from your stomach. As if his expression wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, he leaned forward and captured your lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a firm but sweet kiss.

It only lasted for a minute, but it was enough to have your heart rate monitor start beeping rapidly, noisily chiming at the other side of your bed. His face was so perfect and smooth up close— you couldn’t close your eyes as you took in his astonishing beauty. Sure, you’d imagined he would be perfect… but in person, here before you, he was indescribable. The man of your dreams. And a good kisser, too.

A nurse rushed into the room, seemingly out of breath. When she caught sight of the two of you, your lips locked, and Shouto holding you so tenderly, she let out an awkward cough and pawed at her scrubs, averting her eyes as she approached your bedside. Shouto pulled away, only to plant a soft kiss on the very tip of your nose before leaning back into his seat. He had a wide smile on his lips, content-crinkled eyes settled on you as his hand enveloped yours.

“So you’re awake!” the nurse stated excitedly, busying around with the beeping machine, managing to shut the blasted thing off. “How are you feeling? Any pain, discomfort?”

You glanced at Shouto, who smiled at you warmly and squeezed your hand. If that heart rate machine was still on, surely it would be going haywire again. “Uhh, I think I’m okay… just kinda groggy,” you replied truthfully, your voice coming out hoarse. You cleared your throat and she handed you a small cup of water, which you took gratefully. You continued on after taking a few sips, the liquid cooling your irritated throat. “No pain, but I’m a little… confused, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you are, hon,” the nurse said, giving you a smile full of understanding. It made you feel a little less on edge, and you gave her a half-hearted smile back. “You were in a bad accident almost a month ago. You suffered some head trauma, and you’ve been in a coma ever since. You also had two bruised ribs, and some minor surface wounds. The cuts are all gone now, and your ribs should be almost all healed by now as well, but if you have any discomfort on your left side here,” she gestured to your ribs and continued, “just let me know. I’ll page your doctor and we’ll do a quick check-up on you in just a minute!”

You nodded slowly, the gears turning in your head. You were in an accident, and then a coma for a whole month? It all seemed so crazy to you— you can’t remember a single thing leading up to your supposed accident. Head trauma… you weren’t usually the type to get hurt, and you’d never been in a coma before. “Umm… what kind of accident was it?” you asked, looking between Shouto and the nurse, not really directing the question to either of them specifically.

“You were flung into a cement pillar during a fight, love. The blow was mostly on your side, hence your bruised ribs… but your head smacked into the pillar secondarily,” Shouto replied, his smile disappearing as an unfamiliar bitterness washed over his handsome face. “We were battling together and you were knocked unconscious instantly… you’ve been asleep ever since.”

“A fight..?” you frowned, tilting your head in confusion. “We were fighting, and you threw me against a… cement pillar?”

Shouto looked horrified at your misunderstanding, adamantly shaking his head and making his soft, two-toned hair shine in the sunlight. “No, I would never hurt you— the villain did, baby. I incapacitated them right after,” he paused, eyes casting downwards and his free hand forming into a fist at the memory, “but the damage had already been done...”

That sounded right… your job was herowork, you could at least recall that. But you didn’t think you’d ever fought beside a hero as great and renowned as Japan’s famed dual-tempered Shouto. Sure, you’d been doing your best to climb the American hero leaderboard, but you weren’t by any means at the top yet. “Umm… can you tell me.. why we were fighting a villain together, exactly?”

Shouto looked directly at you, his brow furrowing before he looked to the nurse on the other side of your bed. They shared a look, and you shuffled uncomfortably in the cotton sheets pulled up to your waist, unease sitting like a rock in your stomach.

“Y/N, can you tell me what you remember before the accident?” Shouto asked slowly, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. There was a sliver of something else in his voice now, a hint of urgency in his request.

You looked between him and the nurse hesitantly, racking your brain for anything you could think of. “Uhh… I don’t… I don’t remember, I— I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright hon, don’t worry. It’s common to have some confusion after just waking up from a coma. We can try an easier question. Let’s see… do you know your birthday?”

You responded instantly, and there was the tiniest amount of relief on Shouto’s face at your correct response.

“Your mother’s maiden name?”

You got that one right too, Shouto’s thumb rubbing over your knuckles soothingly in silent praise.

“How about your phone number?”

You took a second to think of it, but you answered that one too. The nurse looked over at Shouto to see his reaction, and so did you. But Shouto was frowning at you, making dread drip into your veins. “That’s your US number, love… what’s your Japanese number?”

You looked at him incredulously. “My Japanese number? Why would I need a Japanese number?” you inquired, thinking this must have been some kind of trick question.

The nurse and Shouto shared a more serious look, and Shouto swallowed as he looked away from you, turning toward the window instead. You squeezed at his hand but he didn’t respond, so you turned to the nurse instead, confused now more than ever.

“I don’t understand…,” you mumbled, hoping for some clarification from her. She smiled at you, but this time it did not reach her eyes.

“You’re in Japan, hon. You’re speaking Japanese right now… and you’re also one of the top heroes in Japan, just like your boyfriend here.”

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The next few days passed by in a blur. The hospital staff was all very kind and hospitable, but it still felt like you had woken up in the middle of someone else’s life. Even though your body was yours, and you looked just the same, you couldn’t help the unease that lingered from your imposter syndrome.

You had gone through so many tests and check-ups that they all blended together at this point. You had been poked, prodded, and quizzed the entire time since you’d woken up from your coma. There were so many different tests regarding your memory that your brain felt like melted jelly by now, and your frustration was at an all-time high.

Shouto had gotten up and left the room shortly after the nurse informed you of your situation. Your heart felt heavy for him— he seemed so excited, so relieved that you were finally awake— and this was the devastating reality that he was left to face. After patiently waiting at your bedside for weeks, this was the bitter pill he had to swallow when you had finally come-to… you imagined that he was not eager to confront such a terrible twist of fate. Yet he had come back into your room half an hour later, eyes suspiciously puffy and pink, and his nose a little stuffy, but nonetheless, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, squeezing even tighter than before. Even though you barely knew him, his presence made you feel safe, and you were glad to have him by your side.

Between your numerous mental tests and check-ins, the conversation between the two of you was surprisingly easy. He was patient with you, and kind. Apparently, you’d first met him in America at a hero convention about five years ago, and you started dating after a year and a half of being friends. Your memory had been completely wiped of the past five years, leaving your Japanese friends, coworkers, and dedicated boyfriend all in the dark. According to Shouto, you had befriended many of the top heroes in Japan, seeing as they were also your colleagues. It turned out that the numerous flower arrangements scattered about your room were from these heroes, as well as fans… though a good amount were from the heterochromatic man himself.

Shouto took care of you during your days at the hospital. He talked to the doctor after your check-ins, pulling them aside and conversing in hushed voices in the hallway just outside your door. He called your family for you and flew them out, only adding to the chaos in your hospital room. He told all of your Japanese friends and acquaintances to stay away for now, knowing that meeting them would probably just overwhelm and guilt you. And each day he would bring you a treat that you would inevitably love, proving to you that he really did know you, and that he knew your preferences and even your favorite boba order. He probably would have stayed by your bedside even through each night, but you insisted he go home and sleep in a proper bed. You already felt bad enough that he was taking a hiatus from hero work until you recovered… you didn’t need to add his future back issues to your already guilty conscience.

You found yourself enjoying your time with him. You knew who he was— you had certainly heard of him during your previous hero work that you actually remembered. You kept it to yourself that you had harbored an embarrassingly large crush on him, though. You figured he probably knew that, seeing as he was your boyfriend of three and a half years… no need to bring it up! But now that your memory had reverted back to your mental state five years ago… you inevitably had feelings for the pro hero, and you weren’t sure if he either couldn’t tell how he affected you, or if he was just being polite. Whatever the case, there was still a spark between the two of you. Even though all the progress of your relationship had been erased on your side, each day your feelings only grew for the selfless, charming, and witty half-and-half man. So much so, that you would now reach out for his hand when he would enter your room each morning, and he would smile at you and slip his fingers between yours, no matter how much it hurt to restrain himself from showing you more affection.

After about a week, you were cleared to go home. Your nurse, who you had come to know as Akari, told you that the doctor had originally wanted to keep you for longer… but that Shouto was such a doting beau that they had given you the express go-ahead, knowing you would be in the highest of care.

Your memory was still not restored, though you had started to remember odd things here and there. Like how to use your phone— it was the newest model and far from the technology you were familiar with five years ago, but you opened the device and navigated it expertly on your first go. The doctor said that that was a good sign, though it could just be muscle memory... but Shouto still gave you a small smile of encouragement. Next was when you had asked Shouto to bring you your favorite moisturizer, a Japanese brand, and you just mentioned it so casually in conversation that you would have blown right over it had Shouto not pointed it out to you. You were recalling little, mundane things here and there, but never anything big— no people, no places. No distinct memories.

Akari assured you many times that as long as you kept working at it, your memories would return. She always said it when you were frustrated— she could tell your moods and she could see how hard you were trying. But she also said it when you were doing fine, and that was when you knew she was saying it more to Shouto than anything. You were glad to have her there, because even though Shouto was there for you physically, he kept most of his emotions sealed off from you… and it was hard for you to read him. Akari was an excellent nurse, and you felt blessed to have been taken care of by her. But a tiny, minuscule part of you was jealous that she could tell how he was feeling, while you were left in the dark.

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You sighed as the car door clicked shut, feeling apprehensive. The vehicle that Shouto had driven to the hospital today is sleek, shiny, and foreign. You had no clue what model it was, but you knew it must have been expensive— the interior was framed with a polished wood that complimented the peanut-butter color of the leather seats and steering wheel. Shouto slipped into the drivers’ side next to you, offering you a small smile as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, pausing before he turned the ignition. The car purred to life, a welcome screen popping up in the middle of the console.

You thought it over for a moment before answering, watching as he slid the parking ticket out from under the overhead visor. “A little… I think excited is a better word for it, though.”

Shouto’s smile broadened just a tad, his hand reaching over the center console and squeezing yours briefly. “Me too,” he murmured, eyes locked with yours for just a moment too long before his arm propped back against the corner of your seat, and he reversed out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled jawline as he did so, eyes flitting away quickly when he caught your lingering gaze.

The drive from the hospital to your home wasn’t long, and you were thankful that was the case— you’d have definitely felt even guiltier if he’d been driving for a long time all these days to come and see you. The city distracted you along the way, bustling and bright as ever, and your eyes were wide with wonder as you took in the colorful displays littering the streets and storefronts. Everything— everyone just seemed so alive; it was impossible to keep the smile from your face.

At one red light in particular, you saw a cat cafe, zoning in on a particularly pudgy cat snoozing at the top of the cat tree in the window. You giggled and pointed it out to Shouto, glancing over at him to see if he was looking, and the softest smile was on his lips as his eyes gazed deeply into yours. You held his stare for a moment and then looked away again, flustered and your cheeks feeling warm as you cleared your throat.

It was then that you noticed his hand lying atop the center of the console, tempting you to reach out and lace your fingers with his, like you had done so many times at the hospital. But it felt different without the safety of the white walls and medical equipment you had grown to know, somehow scarier— like he might reject you for whatever reason. You chose to keep your hands to yourself for now.

“It seems like you’re curious about the city,” he said as silence settled between the pair of you, the only noise in the cabin of the vehicle being the low melody from the radio.

You shrugged and hummed in agreement, eyes now glued to the other side of the window as countless people and businesses whizz by. “I like to know the city I’m protecting,” you answered, leaning back against the headrest. “It makes me feel more connected to the people that live here… the people we’re helping when we do our jobs. Y’know?”

Shouto nodded, humming his own agreement. “Yeah… I know what you mean,” he replied. After a short pause, he turned to you, waiting for another red light to turn green. “Maybe we can come out in disguise sometime… if that would interest you. I can show you around, we can have a little adventure.”

You visibly perked up at his suggestion, your grin making his heart flutter suddenly in his chest. “Yes! I would love that!” you beamed at him and he smiled back at you, the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.

You bit your lip as he turned back toward the road, the car shifting forward as he pressed the gas at the green signal. He was trying… so you had to, too.

“But only if we go together, okay?” You reached over and took his hand before you could chicken out. His fingers fit perfectly in between yours, and your cheeks felt hot again as you gazed intently at your intertwined hands.

Shouto let out a little breath of surprise at your action, but his fingers curled tightly around yours in under a second. “Of course… love.”

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Shouto had sent your family home, despite their protests. The doctor’s orders were for you to resume life as you normally would— apparently, that would be the quickest way for you to regain your memories. The verdict was much to your parents’ dismay, but they understood that it was the fastest means for you to return to, well, you. So they left Shouto to take care of you, and he insisted that once your memories came back, he would fly them back out to see you again, or the two of you would come to them.

Though technically he was a stranger to you, he was the closest thing to home in the strange storm of your memory loss. He had been there for you every step of the way, every day. He tended to your every need, and he even anticipated your needs before you were aware of them. That didn’t change once you arrived at your shared apartment.

If you could even call it that.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled when Shouto unlocked the door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Your jaw was on the herringbone-patterned, hardwood floor as your eyes wandered around the entryway, taking in every design detail you came across. You barely managed to take off your shoes before you were peeking your head into the bathroom next to the entry hallway, inspecting the clean and gorgeously-furnished half-bath.

Shouto chuckled and closed the door behind him, making sure to turn the lock as he set his keys into a porcelain bowl beside the door. “Go explore, I think you’ll like what you see,” he said amusedly, a half-smirk on his pink lips as he eyed you. Your starstruck expression only grew as you padded into the open space of the living room.

A long, cushy sofa and chaise stood before the huge flat-screen that was nestled into an elegant built-in, shelves filled with books you knew and loved and ones you didn’t recognize, too. Game consoles lined the shelf below the plasma screen, and your toes curled into the fuzzy rug underfoot as you gaped at the room. Everything— even the curtains and the coasters on the coffee table— was exactly in your taste. You felt like you were in wonderland. Had you fallen down a rabbit hole and this was the magical, heavenly place you had landed in? Clearly this had to be a dream, right? You woke up as Todoroki Shouto’s long-time girlfriend, and apparently you lived here, with him?

Goddamn.

The kitchen, laundry room, main bath, office, bedroom, and master bath all fit your taste exactly the same. Only the second office and spare bedroom seemed a little out of place— they were more of a traditional Japanese design, but even though it was different, you did not mind. Even the runner on the staircase— who had a staircase in their apartment, by the way?!— was in a pleasing color and pattern. There was even a decently sized home gym, with various equipment and machines and a mirror running the length of the entire wall. By the end of your expedition, you were simply at a loss for words. You found Shouto sitting on one of the stools at the marble island that separated the kitchen and the living room, busy combing through some manila files.

“Umm,” you started, catching his attention.

He looked up at you, propping his chin onto his hand as his elbow rested on the counter. One brow quirked up, he grinned slyly at your outright astonishment. “Well?” he prompted, sitting up and rolling his neck, then stretching his broad shoulders. “What do you think?”

You try not to linger on the way the muscles rippled underneath his tight, crisp shirt, playing off your silence as shock. “It’s uh… perfect? I live here? I actually live here, right? You’re not pulling my leg?”

Shouto chuckled and shook his head. “I would never, love. Well, I have before, but no— I’m not right now. You live here. We live here. It’s all ours.”

You laughed giddily, unable to contain your excitement. Shouto smiled fondly at you, your grin infectious as your eyes wandered around the kitchen once more.

“Snack pantry is behind that door,” he nodded his head to the side and your eyes grew even starrier. He couldn’t help the laugh that trickled out of him at your instant footsteps— you were still you, after all. He knew all the ways to your heart very well, and one of them was most definitely through food.

“Woah.” Your mouth hung open once again at the rows of snacks and foods that greeted your gaze when you opened the door, the light flicking on automatically. Your eyes danced over the labels, recognizing many of your favorite flavors throughout the variety. “We could survive a whole year off of this stuff, Shouto.”

You stiffened when an arm wrapped around your middle, his front pressing up against your back as his chin fell onto your shoulder. That same comforting scent encircled you, but this time it was mixed with a subtle, woodsy aroma that made your mouth water.

Shouto breathed softly into your hair, the tip of his nose brushing the side of your neck. “I stocked up for your return, love.” He took another leisurely deep breath before he pulled back, his arm falling from your body and leaving you surprisingly cold without his touch. “Wanted you to have everything you could possibly desire.”

Your eyes inspected the pattern on the hardwood floor as he stepped away from you, your arm crossing over your front to grab onto your bicep nervously. Letting out a small laugh, you replied, “Yeah, I think you covered all the bases…”

He only hummed as he returned to his seat, sliding on a pair of thin metal glasses you hadn’t seen him take off before. You couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly handsome like this— a rare, domestic sight for only your eyes to enjoy. “Sorry I can’t entertain you at the moment,” he said, that analytical gaze locking onto you once more. “My agency asked me to look over these cases and I just have to finish them up— I’m technically on leave, but I still want to help out when I can. I only need another half hour or so. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. This is your home, after all.”

You smiled and nodded, rolling back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Alright, I’ll try not to bother you.” Shouto frowned at your wording, but you carried on anyway. “I think I’ll poke around our room and see if I can find something that triggers a memory.” Your acknowledgement of your shared bedroom seemed to put him at ease, and with that, you grabbed a strawberry-flavored snack from the pantry before making your way past him, roaming over to the bedroom.

“You can go through my things if you want, too!” He called from behind you, having already made your way to the stairs. Choosing not to reply to his invitation, you hopped up the steps and quietly closed the door to your bedroom, hands landing on your hips. Inspecting the room from left to right, you decided to go through the toiletries in the master bath before anything else.

Before you could move even a foot in the direction of the en-suite, a furry creature darted out from underneath the bed skirt and dashed toward you. You gasped in delight at the gorgeous visage of the long-haired cat— she had bright blue eyes and fine white fur, her coat streaked with gray here and there. The cat meowed cutely and curled around your ankle, rubbing her head against your leg affectionately.

You immediately crouched down and lowered yourself to her level, fingers eagerly diving into her soft fur and offering a good scratch behind the ears. “Hi gorgeous,” you cooed, the animal mewling back at you in response. Your fingers found her collar and you flipped over the tag, reading her name with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Yuki.”

Heart softened at the thought of Shouto owning such a pretty creature, you gave her a good long rub before you decided to move on to your quest at hand. The creature followed closely behind, twisting in between your legs as you entered the en-suite.

The bathroom was large and luxurious, just what you would expect from a pro-hero of Shouto’s standing. It occurred to you that you too, were a hero of such regard, which must explain why you could afford all the lavish things you came across while combing through the closets and cabinetry.

You went through countless skincare products, face masks, makeup items, and bathing goods on what you presumed was your side of the double sink before you peeked into Shouto’s drawers. You fingered through his hygienic products, mumbling to yourself in surprise when you came across skincare items whose existence most men would not even be aware of. You shrugged and figured that you just must be an excellent girlfriend and teacher, assuming he used them correctly.

Eventually you found his shaving items, eyes scanning the labels until you find his aftershave. Shrugging, you took the cap off, giving a tentative sniff before you realized that must be what you smelled on him earlier, when he’d pressed up against you from behind and nuzzled into your neck. You bit your lip as you recalled how his arm felt around your waist, his nose on your throat. It had felt so intimate, and oddly… natural.

It was the most contact you’d had with him so far. While you were at the hospital, he would hold your hand. Besides that first moment when you had just woken up— when he hugged and kissed you, and the fireworks that had gone off had been then overshadowed by the horrific realization that your memory had been wiped— the half-hug just twenty minutes ago was the only time he had initiated further physical contact with you.

You frowned. It wasn’t like you’d been super affectionate toward him, either. Sure, you had reached out for his hand at the hospital, and you took it again during the car ride home… but now that it was just the two of you, alone in your home… it felt different. Maybe that was why Shouto had asked if you felt nervous when you were in the car, following your discharge from the hospital only an hour ago. Had he seen it coming— this potential pitfall in the reconstruction of your relationship? You wondered how he felt about all of this, but you were too shy to ask him so directly. Not when you barely knew him.

“Missed me so much you’re sniffing my cologne?”

You froze and glanced up at the mirror, Shouto’s reflection smirking at you from his leaned position against the doorway. Your cheeks immediately went warm and fuzzy again as you capped the glass bottle, carefully placing it back into its drawer before looking over your shoulder to him. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it had been forty minutes; you must have gotten swept up in examining your beauty products.

He didn't have his glasses on anymore, and he had changed into a solid-colored t-shirt, the crisp button-down he’d donned earlier nowhere to be seen. Damn it… you had missed your chance to ogle at him with his shirt off. At your silence, his smirk melted into a small smile, stepping forward and joining your sitting form on the heated-tile floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve done the same to your perfume before as well,” he murmured as he reached toward the drawer on your far side, his arm brushing against your back as he searched for the glass vial. “You can try it, too. It’s the most recent addition to your collection, and I personally am very partial to its scent.”

The contact made you swallow, your gaze flicking over to his. He was looking at the various perfume bottles in the drawer, though, giving you the chance to inspect his face as his hair fell forward, soft locks of red and white splaying across his forehead. He was so breathtaking up close like this… your gaze dropped to his lips. God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to feel those lips on yours again, to be in his arms and to be held as tenderly as you were that first day you awoke.

“Oh right,” he chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I brought it into the spare room the other day… Must’ve forgot to put it back.” He leaned back, ending the accidental physical contact with you.

You looked at him quizzically. “The spare room? Can I ask why?”

Shouto blushed and your heart thudded in your chest. Oh crap, he was so cute with his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah… I’ve been sleeping in there since the accident. It just feels…,” he paused as he searched for the right word, eyes avoiding yours, “wrong… to be in our bed without you.”

Your own cheeks warmed at that, his confession pulling at your heartstrings. “So the perfume..?”

His cheeks darkened a few shades, the hand on his neck rubbing harder at his skin. “Ah, that’s… honestly kind of… embarrassing to explain.”

You reached out so your hand covered his, and Shouto sighed as he allowed your fingers to slide in between his. “Can I guess? Will you tell me if I’m right?” He nodded at that, deciding it was better if he didn't have to say it. “You spray my perfume onto a pillow at night and snuggle up with it?”

Shouto’s eyes widened at your immediate response, swallowing before he let out a stiff laugh and a nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly right… kind of lame, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you smiled gently at him. “No, I think it’s sweet. It’s just what I would do if you were away, too.”

There’s a shocked silence that filled the bathroom then, Shouto’s wide eyes fixed on you for a long, intense moment. Eventually you broke eye contact, looking to the floor with an awkward smile.

“And you don’t have to do that tonight…” you offered quietly. “If you want, I mean… you can sleep in here.”

“Is that where you’ll be sleeping?”

You looked back at him, surprised by his instant reply. “Y-Yeah, I think so…”

“Alright,” he conceded, his blank face melting into a warm smile. “Then that’s where I’ll sleep, too.”

You returned the gesture, pleased to have made him happy. “Will you be spraying me with perfume before we tuck in?” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No,” Shouto answered seriously, the smile dropping from his face, “your natural scent is a thousand times better than any perfume, love. I’ve missed it lingering on our sheets.”

Cheeks warmed for what seemed like the thousandth time today, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled, unsure of what to say. “Aha okay… well, I think you smell pretty good, too.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

Shouto originally wanted to order in from your favorite restaurant for dinner, but you managed to sweet talk him into allowing you to cook instead. After about a week of feeling completely worthless, it was nice to have something you could finally, actually do.

The refrigerator was just as stocked as the pantry, so after analyzing the plethora of ingredients at your disposal, you decided on a meal and set off, gathering all the things you’d need in an excited hurry. Just as you were about to start washing vegetables, Shouto slipped an apron over your head, steady hands drawing the ties together at the bottom of your spine. The garment fit you perfectly, intricate design in your favorite color. You thanked him as you glanced over your shoulder, grinning up at him.

There was a somewhat somber look in his eyes, a halfhearted smile just barely curving his lips before he nodded and moved away, retreating back to the other side of the counter where he’s staked out to watch you work. He’d offered to help— numerous times, actually— but you told him to just sit back and relax. You wanted to do something for the tired man, even if it was as small as putting together a meal.

It didn't take long for you to get into a rhythm. Chopping the vegetables and preparing the other ingredients came naturally to you, and you found yourself enjoying the process. It was something familiar, which was very much welcome.

“Do we cook a lot?” you inquired, raising your voice a bit so Shouto could hear you over the sizzling pan in front of you.

He was leaning on the countertop again— he must’ve known he looked delicious like that or something— and he glanced over at you from the open book he was reading. “Mm, when we have time. It’s not that we don’t enjoy it, but usually we’re both very busy. It’s normal for us to leave early, and return home late.”

You nodded in understanding, grinding fresh peppercorns above the skillet and giving the contents a stir.

“I like everything you cook for me, though.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, stealing a look over at him. While your cooking had improved since your teenage years, it wasn’t like you were a chef by any means. “Everything? You’re just trying to be sweet on me.”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “Maybe… is it working?”

The sound of the food crackling from a drizzle of oil filled the kitchen for a beat, and you stared at the wilting greens before you, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “Yeah, I think it’s working…”

There was another pause in conversation, this one less stifling than before. This time, Shouto broke the ice. “Even though we’re busy people, we always have a date every Friday… It’s the highlight of my week.” His voice sounded gloomier than just a moment ago, but when you chanced a look over at him, he was smiling slightly, staring at a cabinet and seemingly off in his own memories.

You wondered which memory he was going over particularly, but didn’t want to intrude his recollection, so you focused on stirring the pan instead. Tapping your phone on the counter next to you just to make sure, your eyes flitted over today’s date.

Thursday.

“Tomorrow’s a Friday,” you mentioned, trying to be casual, despite your heartbeat ringing in your ears. It was stupid for you to get anxious that he’d reject you— he was your boyfriend after all. But to you, this was all uncharted territory; foreign waters.

“Tomorrow is a Friday, yeah,” he confirmed, looking down at his book again. “It’ll be a week since you woke up.”

The realization that you’d woken up exactly one week ago—the day that caused the man so much joy and then so much pain— that that day had been on a Friday, your sacred day that was devoted to being spent with each other… it made your heart throb uncomfortably in your chest. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, shutting off the burner and transferring the food into a serving dish. Bringing it over to the counter and setting it in front of him, you untied the apron and folded it neatly, placing that on the counter too.

“Would you… want to go out with me tomorrow, then?” you proposed smally, opening the drawers before you in search of eating utensils. You frowned when all you were met with was measuring cups and spatulas. “For our Friday date ritual, I mean.”

Shouto stood and crossed the island, opening the drawer behind you and revealing all the silverware and chopsticks. You moved to grab two pairs of chopsticks and he took your wrist gently, large thumb stroking across your skin. His other hand came to brush against the small of your back, but he chose not to grab onto you. “I would love that.”

You shared a smile and a meaningful look.

“Then it’s a date.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

After the dishes were all washed, you agreed to watch a movie. You had initially wanted to pour over your things again, to see if anything could help your memories come back. But Shouto had suggested the two of you relax on the couch instead, explaining that he was not surprised that you were overworking yourself, but that it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself. He further threatened that if you wouldn’t take care of yourself, then he would have to “take care of you himself”, and that left you flustered more than anything. So you dropped whatever excuse you had prepared to argue back at him and followed him to the living room.

Walking in, you blinked in awe at the spread that Shouto had set up. Numerous candies and snacks are laid out for your convenience across the coffee table. The lights were dimmed and curtains drawn, even a few candles flickering in the shadows and scenting the room with a cool, refreshing aroma. There was a pile of blankets stacked in the center of the sofa, all the decorative pillows pushed into the corners to leave one large space for the two of you to share. It was a little… dare you say it… romantic. You looked over your shoulder at him, shooting him a suspicious glance. He had led you to believe he was “taking care of you”, but it seemed he had ulterior motives, too. Not that you were complaining.

Seating yourself next to the blanket tower, you peeled one off the top before unfolding it, letting the soft fleece tickle your ankles and lay across your lap. Shouto crossed in front of the TV, grabbing two remotes from the basket and coming to sit next to you. There was a respectful amount of space between your legs, and you couldn’t help but frown at the gap. You thought that he would sit right next to you…

It took a little while for you to settle on a movie, all the films from the past five years unknown and novel to you… even if Shouto informed you you had already seen them. He went along with your selection without resistance, opting to grab one of the biscuit snacks on the table before you.

As the movie began, you leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch, not really focusing on the actors on the screen. Your eyes were trained on the television, but your mind was elsewhere, unable to distract yourself with the story. You also noticed that Shouto was sitting stiff as a board next to you, focused on nibbling at his snack. He didn’t attempt any moves at you throughout the first thirty minutes, even after he’d finished with his confection. Slowly you allowed yourself to relax, succumbing to the film and settling into the pillowy sofa.

Shouto detected your newfound relaxation, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he watched your eyes fix on the main character and her love interest. “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like a cup, love?”

“I’m okay, thanks…” you replied softly, not really hearing him as the love interest was in the middle of their heartfelt confession.

He took a moment alone in the kitchen to calm himself. Even though you had been very receptive to him, he couldn’t help but feel hesitant whenever he touched you. He wanted you to want him; for you to want him to touch you. But he didn’t want to force anything with you, in fear that he’d scare you off or make a bad impression. He didn’t want to be pushy. Even before the accident, his heart still pounded whenever you would smile at him. When you would grab his hand, bring him something because it reminded you of him… when you would moan into his ear at ungodly hours in the night… Now it felt like his heart was in his throat every time you spoke to him, like if he said one word wrong, you’d fly away from him and never look back. It was terrifying.

Shouto shook his head. Sighing to himself, he filled his mug with water and held the ceramic in his hands, steam rising off the surface of the liquid almost instantly as he activated his quirk. He allowed the tea leaves to steep for a moment before he fished them out, steeling his nerves and returning to his spot on the couch. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you’d scooted over just the tiniest bit, shortening the distance between you two as he took his seat.

Your eyes flicked over to him and caught his gaze on you, inspecting the mug in his hands before giving a curious sniff. “Chamomile?”

He nodded and offered the cup to you, which you took in both hands. “Technically, it’s called Sleepytime Mix. But yes, it has chamomile. Have some, if you want.”

“Ah,” you gave a long inhale and smiled drowsily at the familiar scent. “I don’t wanna drink all your tea. And besides, it’s a little hot for me.”

“Oh,” Shouto said, taking the cup back into his hands. He focused for a second, and then the liquid no longer emitted steam, now a pleasant, warm temperature. “Try it now. Help yourself, please.” He handed the mug back to you, the light from the television flickering across his handsome face.

You blinked at him cutely, taking the mug in your hands again. Your fingers brushed against his in the transfer, and he cleared his throat slightly, skin warmed from your touch. “Wow!” you chimed after a sip, going back for another few gulps before you handed it back to him. “It’s really good. Perfect temp, Sho, thank you.”

Shouto felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, his eyes widening at the name he hadn’t heard in weeks. It sounded so good rolling off your tongue, so right. At his flustered expression, you laughed awkwardly, fingers delving into the blanket and looking away meekly.

“Sorry… I thought that that was probably what you’re used to me calling you, but I can use something else if you like.”

“No,” he said instantly, his hand automatically reaching for yours. He pried it out of the fleecy material, folding his fingers around yours. “I like it. Please call me that, I… I’ve missed hearing it.”

“Alright,” you mumbled, fingers squeezing his for a moment. You kept his gaze for a long pause, and then you duck down, scooching flush against his side and laying your head onto his broad shoulder. It caught him off guard, but after a moment of buffering, he moved, his arm tentatively wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. The action made your cheeks perhaps as hot as the tea in his mug, but you only settled deeper into his embrace, happy to be in his arms. You fixed the blanket so it covered his long legs, too, settling over the both of you snuggly.

You two stayed like that for the rest of the movie, another forty five minutes or so. Your hand gradually moved to rest on his stomach, his long fingers stroking your spine through your shirt. It was new to you, but it was comfortable— your body recognized his touch and welcomed it, even— years of unknowingly conditioning yourself to receive his affection allowing you to accept his embrace. By the end of the film, you were dozing off, warm and relaxed now more than ever, curled up into Shouto’s side.

Shouto, however, was wide awake, his pulse rushing in his ears at your proximity. It had been a very long month without you, and now here you were, cuddled up with him just like how you used to be every night. He knew you were somewhere in between consciousness and sleep, so he let the entire movie credits roll by before he decided to move you. Still holding his mug, which had been empty for the past half hour— but he didn’t want to risk moving and causing you to pull away— he set it on the side table, carefully maneuvering his wide frame so as to not disturb you.

You whined in protest but did not stir when he curled his arms around you, picking your form up and off the couch. After making sure all the candles were blown out and the lights were turned off, he quietly carried you to your shared room, not bothering to turn on the lights. It was then that he hesitated to make the next move— you were still in your clothes from the day, and he wasn’t sure if you would want him to see your bare body if he took the liberty to rid you of them.

His tongue wandered over the bottom of his teeth as he gazed at you, strewn across the soft blankets that covered your bed. The few beams of moonlight that slithered through the bottom of the blinds fell perfectly onto your face, your lashes casting long shadows onto the duvet and giving you an ethereal glow. He could imagine how your naked skin looked underneath that cute little sweater you donned, your bra strap poking out as if to tease him even more. His eyes slammed shut as he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, recognizing the color, and the image of you clad in the matching panties that completed the set suddenly sprung forth in his mind.

Acquainted was an understatement as to how well he knew your body, but the problem was not as simple as physicality— the problem was mental, and it could not be vanquished by anything except time, it seemed. The beautiful brain he loved so dearly was now wiped, void of all the memories the two of you had made and cherished together. Shouto clutched his stomach as he took a seat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, feeling sick from the forceful whirlwind of emotion that came along with the thoughts that crept up on him in the night. The knowledge that you did not remember him, not even one measly memory of him, upset him more than anything.

He had not realized how much his world had shifted now that he had you. Of course, he loved you and he made great effort to ensure that you knew the extent of his devotion to you. But it wasn’t until you had woken up like this, confused and distraught, mind reverted to just months before he had even met you, that he had come to terms with just how much you meant to him. He knew that he loved you before. But now he knew the pain of being unable to hold you, and be with you— really, even talk to you like he had grown so accustomed to.

It was eating him alive, and tearing him apart.

When you had awoken after such an excruciating, lonely month, he had been overjoyed. Finally, he could be with you again— he could touch you and kiss you, hear your sweet voice, hold your body close to his as you fell asleep, and wake up with you still in his arms, groggy and adorable… except, he couldn’t. Because while you knew who he was… you didn’t, really. You didn’t know him at all. And what hurt the most was that he could see that you were trying… but at the end of the day, he was only a stranger to you. He was not your boyfriend, not anything more, other than a hero that you idolized and had a silly crush on.

At the very least, he found comfort in the knowledge that you found him attractive. Of course, you had revealed to him, albeit once you were deep into your relationship, that you had fantasized about him and fostered a schoolgirlish crush on him when you hadn’t yet been introduced. He remembered laughing at your embarrassed confession, pinching your cheeks and then kissing you through his smile… then, taking you from behind as you bent over the bathroom counter, pressing you against the mirror as he donned his hero suit, savoring your pleading moans for him to fuck you deeper, harder.

His cock twitched in his slacks, blood beginning to travel south as his interest grew for the first time in weeks. He groaned and he grit his teeth, frustrated at himself for even daring to feel desire while you laid asleep next to him, plagued by your wiped memory but sitting there looking like that. Gorgeous and untouchable.

As if his heated gaze had summoned you from your slumber, your eyes opened and you blinked at him, squinting at his silhouette in the dark of the room. Shouto recoiled even though he hadn’t been caught doing anything too suspicious; he was a good distance away from you, but still, you had caught him staring at you like a creep in the shadows.

“Sho?” you mumbled drowsily, a hand coming up to rub at your eyes. You propped your body up on your elbows, your shift stretching flush over your chest.

Shouto nearly moaned at the sight combined with the sound of your sleepy voice uttering his name. It didn't help the situation that was stirring in his pants one bit, only adding water to an oil fire. “Hey,” he replied, clearing his throat. “You fell asleep, so I brought you to bed.. Did you want to clean up before we go to sleep?”

You sighed, rolling over as you roused yourself from sleep. “Not really…,” you chuckled, and Shouto felt his chest tighten at the premise of having to get into bed with you with his problem at hand. “But I’ll be a responsible adult,” you finished, rolling out of bed and padding over to the bathroom.

He glanced over at you in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, the cat curling around his ankle and taking his attention away from you. Giving the animal a scratch underneath her chin, he tried to focus on calming himself, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. Even though this wasn’t at all like how it had been before, it was still better than being alone. Your presence, the sound of you tidying yourself up in the nearby vicinity, took the month-long weight of loneliness off of his chest. It still stung, it still hurt— but at the very least, you were here. You were alive, and you were here with him.

It was you calling out for him that interrupted his train of thought, and when he looked toward your voice, he found you peeking around the doorframe, your hair pushed back and your face glistening with moisture from your nightly routine. “Aren’t you going to wash up, too? There’s two sinks in here, y’know,” you stated matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t know the layout of his own home.

But Shouto only smiled at you and nodded, leaving the cat and accepting your invitation for him to join you in your bedtime ritual. The situation in his pants had since relaxed, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry as he took his place adjacent to you at the sink counter. Squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles of his toothbrush, and watching you put on your moisturizer in his peripheral, it felt almost as if nothing had changed. For the first time in a long time, he let himself forget about the horrible curveball that life had thrown at him, instead choosing to stare at you as you picked up the cat at your feet, and placed a sweet kiss on the top of its head as you cradled it in your arms.

You padded out of the bathroom first, opting to close the door behind you. After Shouto had finished his routine, he slinked out into the bedroom quietly, surprise flickering in his gaze at the pyjamas you were now dressed in— a pair of soft sleep shorts and an old t-shirt you had stolen from him years ago. He tried not to stare as you crawled into the sheets, the cat taking her perch at the foot of the bed.

The clearing of his throat caught your attention, and he licked his lip as your eyes settled on his. “Is it okay if I sleep without a shirt?” he asked, having to keep himself from smirking as your eyes widened and a flustered expression blossomed on your face. Cute.

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered after a second of recalibrating, your eyes still trained on his. “The doctors said we should just live out our normal routine, so… whatever we normally do, we should do.” Sliding deeper underneath the comforter, you pretended to look busy as you fiddled with your phone.

Shouto bit his lip and wondered if telling you that your nightly routine of getting naked and passionate between the sheets would do you any good, but he decided against it, not willing to push his luck. Instead, he tore his shirt over his head and pulled down his pants, turning toward the wall so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He could still feel your gaze on his flesh— he always could, for his skin prickled and the hairs on his body stood up as your eyes roved over every inch of him in appreciation. He didn’t need to see you to know that you were staring.

After he stepped into a long pair of sleep pants, he turned and pretended not to notice your obvious shuffling in a foiled attempt to not be caught looking at him. Carefully he slipped into the sheets on his side of the bed, ensuring not to wander too close to you in order to keep a respectful distance between your bodies… even though he wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you, and wrap his body around yours until neither of you could tell where one of you stopped, and the other started.

There was a long, stuffy silence as the two of you laid there, both of you unsure as to the level of affection you should be displaying at the moment. Shouto was doubtful that you’d want him to hold you like he so desperately desired, and you were hesitant to initiate anything with him laying frozen and a good distance away from you.

“Is this… how we normally sleep?” you wondered aloud, and though you were surprised that the words actually fell from your lips, you were grateful to have broken the rising tension.

Shouto left out a breath he had been holding at that, turning so that he was facing you on his side. “No,” he answered truthfully, his fingers sliding over the cool cotton that separated your bodies, wandering toward you at a snail's pace. “Usually… we like to,” he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was situated there, “snuggle.”

In the quiet of the room, he could hear your lips part, a soft breath falling from between them as you processed his response. Your heart was beating faster now, body crying out for his touch, his embrace. “Can we?” you asked so softly that you hadn’t thought he’d heard you, but slowly, surely, he shuffled toward you.

You inhaled as he placed a gentle hand on your waist, pulling your body to slide across the sheets and meet him in the middle of the bed. Lifting your head so he could slip his arm beneath your neck, he brought your face into his neck, arms wrapping tight around your torso. His fingers dug into your side and the hair at the crown of your neck, curling around the tendrils as if he was scared that you would slip out of his grasp at any moment. Pressed up against his bare chest, you could hear the steady, fast thumping of his heart, and the shakiness in each breath he drew in and let out.

It sounded like he was trying not to cry.

Your hand wandered up and under his neck, your elbow angling around the back of his neck so that your fingers could trace the sinews that lined his shoulder blades. Your other arm slung around his back, and although it was just a bit of a reach, you managed to find his silky locks, combing through the ends with your fingers. Daring to push the fragile boundaries that kept you two separate, you threw your leg across his hips, trapping his legs between yours and pressing your body completely flush against his.

Shouto stopped breathing, tears threatening to spill over as he held you so delicately for the first time in what seemed like forever. Similar emotions were flowing through you as well, your body singing at the feeling of being with him, in his embrace. Your heart throbbed at the thought of leaving this man alone for an entire month, with no one to comfort him and calm his worries. No one to hold him and tell him that it was going to be okay, no one to plant kisses across his tear-streaked cheeks and help him forget his pain.

It wasn’t your fault you had been in this accident, that you had forgotten your memories from the past five years. But it wasn’t his, either. The two of you were forced to suffer in different ways, separated by your condition and worlds apart. You wished so desperately that you would just remember already— if not for your sake, then for his. Anything that would make him feel better, anything to ease the ache in his heart.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out quietly, overcome with emotion as you laid in the arms of the man you had once loved. The man you’d been learning to love again. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you. I want to, I’m trying.” A tear dripped down your face and landed on his chest, sliding down to stain the sheets.

Shouto sucked in a shaky breath at your meager apology, rough fingers running over the back of your neck. “I know you are,” he murmured, and you could feel him swallow thickly as he tried to find the right words. “It’s not your fault, love… You can’t— you can’t blame yourself.” His voice broke at the last syllable, his arms squeezing tighter as he held onto you.

You pressed your face into the junction between his shoulder and his neck, uncaring of your tears that smeared across his skin. “Neither can you,” you sniffled, body clinging to him as best you could. “Please, Shouto, promise me you won’t.”

It was then that he let the tears he had been holding back fall, racing down his cheeks to plop onto the dampening pillow. You held him as he cried, unphased by the sudden outburst of emotion from the man who had shown you so little of himself in the past week.

“I’ll try,” he mumbled into your hair once he had calmed down a bit, lungs still rattling as he tried to suppress his emotions. “For you, I’ll try.”

You leaned back from his chest, his heart seizing up at the tear tracks on your cheeks that were illuminated by the soft moon’s glow. And then, you kissed him. It was simple and sweet, just your lips pressed to his as your thumb swiped across his cheek. But it felt like you were breathing life into him, like he had been starved of oxygen until this very moment.

Both of you gasped when you pulled away, the kiss having lasted as long as you could stand without breaking for breath. Your eyes wandered from his shining ones to his lips, shocked that you had planted such a passionate kiss there just seconds ago. It had worked, though— Shouto was breathing normally and his tears had stopped, dual-colored eyes now staring at you as if you had just given him a purpose to live. You licked your lips, not missing the way his gaze flicked down to watch the action with longing, but he did not act on it.

“We’ll get through this together,” you whispered, hand resting on his sharp jawline. There was not a hint of doubt in your voice, no hesitance nor fear. It was just a fact, simple as that. You let yourself look at his handsome face for a moment longer before you ducked and nuzzled into his chest again, taking your spot as if you had never left.

Shouto exhaled, his fingers trailing down your spine as he closed his eyes, syncing his breathing to yours. The feeling of your body wrapped around his made his bones glow with a missed sense of comfort, his heart fuller than it had been for quite some time. He welcomed sleep to take him, the exhaustion of many long and insomnia-plagued nights from the past month all piling on. Pressing his lips to your forehead as softly as he could, he closed his eyes and murmured one word, wishing with every fiber of his being for you to wake up the next morning and have just one memory of him.

“Together.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

...soooooooo idk how this is only part 1, shit’s 11k already 💀 ahh for those of you who made it through, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! there was no smut in this chapter which is so foreign to me, but i’m hoping to improve my story creation skills as part of my 2021 author resolutions... so, let me know what you think! hopefully part 2 will come to fruition soon, but it would probably come faster if i knew people were waiting for it ;)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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softboywriting · 4 years ago

Text

Mi Alma | Santiago “Pope” Garcia

Summary: After years of tension, you and Santiago finally get together at your best friend’s wedding. [Film: Triple Frontier] [Post-Film] [Flirting] [Making Out]

Word Count: 6.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Frankie and Tiia's wedding is unlike any other you've been to, and you've been to a few. You're the last of your friends to get married, if it ever happens. You're picky with your men, have high standards. It's fine. You don't mind being alone for a while. Drama and games are not in the cards for you so you won't settle for someone. But this isn't about you and your love life, or so you think.

The couple was never quite normal. Frankie coming from a Catholic upbringing and since shunning it to become his own man and follow his heart. Tiia has always been a free spirit and very much into the unknown and world around her. They make an interesting yet perfect match and their wedding is no run of the mill church ceremony with a bunch of people in pews for hours on end. No. They have quite the opposite.

For starters the wedding is outdoors, a forested area just behind the house Frankie and Tiia bought last year. It's beautiful, the trees in full bloom, greenery as far as the eye can see. There wasn't a ton of prep to be done for the ceremony, just setting up chairs and arranging flowers among the natural foliage. Orange and yellow, those are Tiia's colors. Roses, carnations, peonies, you name it. She took everything the florist could get her in those colors. Frankie didn't care, he said he would love anything she loves. There is an arch made of wood that a friend of yours specially crafted just for the happy couple. It's their wedding gift from him, as Tiia will put it in her garden after the ceremony.

The day Tiia showed you her dress you knew that the wedding would be magical. It's non traditional of course, very Greek goddess meets fairy queen. Draped white and cream fabric, gold accents, braided embellishments. It's incredible and she looks completely stunning in it. It isn't until the day of the wedding that you see her veil, natural colored faux antlers made into a crown like setting atop her head. She is beautiful.

You find yourself on the day of the wedding getting ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. You've not been told who you are to walk with. Tiia said she didn't tell any of the bridesmaids who they're walking with because she didn't want to cause any problems. Honestly you're not sure what that means, you only know that your friend Caiti would have a problem if she was paired up with Benny because of a past relationship. You check your reflection in the small mirror decor beside the door you're meant to go out. You look fine. Good. Great actually. You twist your finger around a loose bit of hair by your temple and smooth the top of the dress that matches Tiia's flowy one. Damn good.

"You're up." Says Tiia's brother, opening the patio doors for you.

You take a deep breath, pull up the hem of your dress and step out. The plan is that you meet your groomsman at the end of the wrap around deck and you walk to the forest together. You can't help but wonder who it will be. Any of the guys would be great, you're familiar with them all. Benny? He is single currently. Will? No, his fiance is in the bridal party. Frankie's brother? Maybe but...no. Santiago. Oh Lord have mercy. If it's Santiago you're going to have to reach deep into yourself and find some inner calm. Every time the two of you are together with the crew it's like fire. It is undeniable the way you connect but you have never- shit.

At the end of the deck is Santiago. He looks insanely...tempting. You say a prayer to any force listening. Did he have to look so good? Tailored slacks, a deep blue button down, no tie and sleeve rolled up, even the watch on his wrist is sexy. Fucking hell you could just turn around and run back into the house. Demand another partner.

"Hermosa..." Santiago mutters as you approach.

"What's that?"

Santiago snaps his eyes to yours and smiles warmly. "Nothing, I was just thinking out loud." He offers his arm and you take it.

"What does that mean? Hermosa?"

He leads you carefully down the steps into the grass. "It means beautiful."

"Oh...oh!" You flush, heat rising from your chest. "Thank you."

Santiago chuckles softly and lifts your hand to kiss it. "Every woman should be told they look beautiful."

"You're a sweet talker today."

"I've had a drink or two. Frankie and I had a talk before the wedding, pre marital nerves."

"I can't imagine. I've never gotten that far into a relationship."

Santiago's eyes meet yours as you glance over to gauge his reaction. He raises his eyebrows and you raise yours. It's always like this. Silent conversations. They're louder than any words you've ever exchanged. "Are you excited for Tiia?"

"Through the roof. She hasn't shut up about Frankie since they met. I'm glad she's found her person."

"Me too." He stops as you arrive at the archway. "You never know when you'll meet the right person."

"Yeah, I guess so."

He steps away, touch lingering on your hand as he parts. "Who knows, maybe you've already met them."

You look at him and he says nothing more, just gives a little smile. He knows exactly what he's doing. Fueling the fire. That's it. This wedding, you're getting Santiago Garcia.

______________________

The entire ceremony you stared at each other and it is unlike ever before, there was no conversation in your eyes. It was just a game of who could out stare who. Until Frankie began reading his vows, then Santiago's gaze changed. It flicked between you and Frankie, soft and loving.

There were tears, actual tears when Frankie began to talk about how he felt about Tiia and their bond. All of the guys were crying, proud of their best friend to be so happy and excited to take this step in his life. But Santiago...he couldn't look away from you. You try not to look away from Tiia and Frankie, knowing they deserve your undivided attention and not Santiago. It's hard. Santiago's eyes...they're undeniable, irresistible, commanding. He is making it hard not to think about what it would be like to be in your friends shoes, or lack thereof because she is actually barefoot under that dress. What would a wedding with Santiago look like? A beautiful tailored suit, beard grown out a bit for sure, messy curls, bowtie or regular tie. Hmm. And your dress, white or blush? Formal or fun? You've never thought about your own wedding and yet here you are just-

You snap out of your dream world when the guests begin to clap, the ceremony is over. You raise your hands and clap, smiling at your friends. Santiago gestures for you to join him as the bride and groom walk back down the path. You're meant to follow after, being in the wedding party and all.

Santiago's hand slides across your lower back the moment you're in reach. You swear you can feel your skin tingle all the way up to the back of your neck. "That was incredible."

"It was a very pretty ceremony."

"Are you feeling well?"

You frown and look at him, he raises his eyebrows. "Yes? Do I look ill?"

He shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. You looked...distracted."

"Can't say I wasn't."

Santiago gives a soft knowing hum in response and nothing more. Kindling. He's throwing kindling into this fire now. The son of a bitch. No. You would never call him that. He's too good. "Ride with me?" He says and you realize you've walked together to the front of the house where everyone is parked.

"I-...Benny."

"Benny?"

"I promised Benny I'd ride with him. I'm supposed to be his DD tonight and care for his truck should he get a little out of hand."

Santiago smiles softly. "I see. I'll meet you at the hall then?"

You nod.

He lays a hand on your cheek and presses a kiss to the opposite side. "Drive safe."

Your heart threatens to explode and you're stuck standing there like a deer in headlights. There is no way you're going to survive this wedding.

_____________________

The reception is when things really kick off, it usually is though isn't it. The reception is held at a party rental hall in town, their house not being ready for so many guests and a large dinner and dancing. You ride with Benny, having to just take a moment and figure out what your next move is with Santiago.

"You and Pope, huh?" Benny says, looking over at you. "When's that happening?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on anyone with eyes could see you two tryin’ to undress each other up there."

You stifle a noise of protest because you know that if you make a scene about it then Benny will be even nosier. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah alright sweetheart." Benny laughs to himself, a quick breathy little chuckle. "If a girl looked at me like that for an hour, we'd be kicking boots in the back of this truck right now."

"You're gross Benny."

"Never said I wasn't." He grins and does a little tongue click. "Pope is a good man, the best I know. Give'em a chance."

"Sure, thanks for the pep talk Benny."

"Anytime sweetheart."

Once you arrive at the reception you immediately run into Santiago. No, literally you smack into him when you step in the doors. He seemed to be on his way outside as you were going in. His familiar spicy cologne flls your nose and your eyes cross for a moment. You know it's him before he speaks, before you see his face.

His hand comes up, steadying you with it on your back. "Easy there, honey."

Honey. Fuck. You're so fucked. "Sorry, I was just trying to go in."

"Mmm. I forgot my phone in the car, I'll be back."

"I'll be seated?" You say awkwardly.

He chuckles and steps away from you. "Go on, don't wait for me."

"I wasn't going to?" You step in and look around for your table. It should be near the front. You look for the names and sure enough there you are right next to... Santiago. "Great."

"Is something wrong?"

You jump and Will chuckles. "No, I'm fine."

"Where'd Pope go?"

"His phone."

Will nods. "Have you seen Benny?"

You shrug. "We drove together but I've no idea where he went. Check the bar?"

"I checked there, I bet he's out back." Will sighs and heads for the emergency exit door that's propped open at the far end of the building.

You take a seat and Santiago returns, sliding behind you and taking his seat next to you. The chairs are close, the table being a little small for the amount of people seated at it. You can feel Santiago's warmth, his scent filling your nose. Oh how you love that cologne. It's one of two he's worn since you met and this one just nails it right on the head. If you knew the brand you would buy it and drown yourself in it.

His hand comes down on your thigh and you feel like the world has stopped and begun to burn around you. It is absolutely no mistake, he knows what he's doing. His fingers flex against the loose fabric of the dress and it falls open a bit along the side split, exposing your skin beneath.

Will stands from the end of your table and taps his glass a few times. He is going to make a speech. Of course, it's Will and he is the best speech giver you've ever met. You try to distract yourself, wondering how many wedding speeches he has given. If you ask him he will know. If you ask him how many of anything he has or does he will know. You smile to yourself, eyes flicking to Santiago. Will is the reason any of this is happening. If he hadn't given Santiago the coordinates to the ravine with Lorea's money, Santiago would have never gone after it, never gifted the wedding fund to Tiia and Frankie.

Santiago's hand shifts and you're acutely aware of its position further up your leg, his pinky finger brushing your tender inner thigh. Should you tell him to stop? He didn't ask to touch you, and you didn't tell him yes or no. Did he need to ask though? Honestly you don't mind aside from the fact that it's driving you crazy. He must know what he is doing to you, how you feel. He has always been physically affectionate with everyone, hugging, cheek kisses, hands on arms and backs. His love language is very obviously touching.

Will begins to wrap up, and you raise your glass with everyone else to toast. Santiago grabs his glass with his non dominant hand, not letting your thigh go. "To many years of love, happiness and joy. Mr. and Mrs. Morales!"

"I'm up next." Santiago says, giving you a squeeze that makes your stomach jump.

You watch him stand and he taps his glass. You have no idea why but your heart is pounding in your chest. His ass is in perfect view, his thighs...oh his thighs. You decide to get a little retribution for the thigh touching and you lay your hand on the back of his leg, just above the bend of his knee. It's not much, just a gentle touch and nowhere near sexual. You're sure he's burning up though.

"Tiia, the day Frankie met you I knew his fate was sealed. I had not once seen my brother so engrossed in a woman than when he talked about you. When you and I finally met, and I saw that red hair of yours, I knew there was something special. Hermana, eres fuego. You have made Frankie a better man, a calmer and more gentle man. Without you I don't know where he would be." Santiago raises his glass higher. "I hope to find a love like yours someday. Cheers to new family, life and a beautiful union!"

Your hand falls from his leg as he sits down and he slides his back over your thigh. "That was a nice speech," you whisper.

"Thank you. I know it wasn't nearly as long and detailed as Will's but I tried." He swipes his thumb back and forth. "Even if I had a little bit of a distraction."

You smile and give him an innocent look.

"Malo..." He mutters softly and tears his gaze from yours to Benny who's standing at the table opposite.

You reach out and run your hand over his shoulder, settling with it on the back of his neck. Your fingers slip into the curls there and he lets out a subtle shaky breath that you don't miss for a second. Two can participate in his game of touches and you're going to play hardball.

Benny makes his speech, short but sweet and meaningful. Tom's wife is up next. Before she stands you make eye contact with Tiia. You could feel her stare before you caught it. She gives a little smirk.

"Honey, you're going to make me fall asleep." Santiago whispers, ducking his head close to you after a minute or two.

"That's not quite my goal."

He slips his hand down your inner thigh and you feel heat swell between your legs. "What is your goal?"

"What is your goal, Santiago."

"I-"

"Thank you everyone for coming and for your well wishes. It means the world to Tiia and I that we're surrounded by so much love." Frankie says and everyone cheers softly. "Let's have dinner and cake!"

"Bride or groom?" Santiago asks, close to your ear.

"H-Huh?"

"The cakes. Bride or groom's cake?" He points to the table with the two cakes on it. "I'll get you a piece."

You try to remember what kind they both are but you're drawing a blank. All you can focus on is Santiago and you feel bad. This day should be about your friends and here you are wetting your fucking pants for Santiago Garcia. Christ.

"Honey?" He purrs and your mouth falls open as he squeezes your thigh. "I'll get one of each."

"Y-yeah. "

Santiago stands and leaves the table. The lack of heat on your leg is a shock. You're still burning up but it's nowhere near as bad as when he's close. Tiia comes over and leans against your table, she grins knowingly at you.

"How's it going over here?"

"Fine? Should it not be?"

"Is he being nice?"

"Santi?"

You flush and lean your head into your hand. "Santiago. Yes, he's being nice. Why? He is always a sweetheart."

Santiago returns with two plates of cake and sets them on the table. He grabs Tiia's cheek and gives her a kiss to the temple. "Hermana."

"Problema." Tiia giggles and Santiago rolls his eyes.

"I am not trouble." He takes his seat beside you and gives a pointed look at Frankie nearby laughing with Will and Benny. "Hay problema."

Tiia pushes Santiago's head and he laughs. "Frankie is not trouble! He's a good boy."

"Mmmm." Santiago says, raising his eyebrows. "Good boys don't have the most fun." He catches your gaze and winks.

"You're insufferable. Enjoy the cake, lovely." Tiia says to you and heads off to meet her new husband.

Santiago dips his fork into the slice of white and yellow frosted cake, the bride's cake, and brings it up to your lips. "Try it?"

"I can feed myself," you giggle and he bumps the frosted bit against your lips. You open and take the cake in. It's delicious and you remember now. It's an apple spiced white cake with caramel cream center.

"Good?" He asks, cutting a bit for himself. "Oh wow that's amazing."

You nod and reach for your own fork but Santiago pushes it away. "Hey-"

"I got it." He smirks, cutting a slice of the groom's cake. Chocolate with butter rum filling. "Open up."

"Give me my fork, Santiago."

He shakes his head and you reach for it. He knocks your hand away and holds your wrist loosely. "Ah, I said open up."

"Santi..."

His eyes go darker than you've ever seen and you imagine they must be lust filled to be so heavy. "Open up." He says once more, but this time with more authority.

You open your mouth obediently and he presses the fork down gently to your tongue as he slides it out. "Mmmm."

"Better than the last one?" He asks, cutting another piece and holding it up for you. You take it in as well and he smiles.

This is far too intimate. What the fuck are you doing? You're not even together, you're not dating, neither of you have explicitly said this was happening. Not to mention you're at your friend's wedding, in front of people and he's... he's driving you insane.

"Excuse me." You mutter softly, pushing away from the table and leaving a very confused Santiago behind. You head for the emergency exit and take a deep breath of the cool spring air as you step outside. You need to breathe.

___________________

Minutes tick by as you sit on the fence post that blocks a patio area from the parking lot. You figured Santiago would have come for you by now, but you didn't expect it. He's too sweet to impede upon your personal space when he knows you definitely needed it because of his actions. Footsteps behind you draw your attention away from the passing traffic on the road nearby. It's Will.

"What're you doing out here all alone?"

"Getting some fresh air."

"I can understand that." Will takes a seat next to you. "I saw you head out here earlier. I figured I'd give you a little bit before coming to check on you."

"Thanks. Am I missing anything?"

"Tiia is going to throw the bouquet soon. Do you want to catch it?"

You laugh softly to yourself. Do you want to? Do you want to be the next friend to marry? You're the only one not married besides Benny. The rest of the guests are family or friends who are married. "Maybe Benny should give it a try."

Will snorts and you laugh at the sound. "You'd need tempered steel to tie that man down. He's too wild, too free to settle down."

"Yeah, Benny is...Benny."

Will taps your arm with the back of his hand. "C'mon, let's go see who gets the bouquet."

"Alright." You slide off the fence and head back into the hall with Will.

Inside you see a crowd of people near the bride and grooms table. Tiia has her back to the crowd and you watch as she swings the bundle of flowers backwards. There is a collective gasp and you strain to see who caught the flowers.

As the crowd clears you see Santiago standing there with the bouquet. He's laughing, saying something to Frankie's aunt nearby and then he sees you. Your heart races. He gestures for you to come to him.

"Why did you-"

"For you." He holds the bouquet up and kisses your cheek. "I thought you might want them."

"Thank you. They're pretty."

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, why- oh. When I went outside. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just run out on you." You lick your lips and look down from his gaze. "I just needed some air."

Santiago cups your cheek. "Hey, look at me."

You look at him and it's a mistake. Your heart pounds, threatening to break through your ribs. "Yes?"

He leans in whispers, "Did I go too far earlier?"

"The cake?"

He nods.

"It was unexpected, but no." You can feel a flush rising in your chest. "I mean you've always been affectionate but we haven't really...talked about it."

Santiago chuckles softly. "I suppose we haven't. It's always been there but we've never acknowledged it. Are you uncomfortable? I know I'm a few years older and-"

"Santiago."

"Yes?"

"We're in the middle of a wedding. Maybe we should discuss this later? More privately?" You look around at the crowd that's pretty much dispersed.

He cracks a sheepish smile and tucks a bit of hair behind your ear, gliding his fingertips along your cheek before bumping your lip with his thumb. "Mas tarde, cariña," he murmurs.

You lick your lip where he touched and he doesn't miss it, eyes snapping to your mouth. "You know that I know limited Spanish."

"I said we'll talk later." He puts his arm around you and guides you toward your table. "Let's clear the way for the married couple's first dance."

_____________________

The first dance doesn't happen right away. The removal of the garter happens first. For those unfamiliar, it's like the tossing of the bouquet but generally for the men. The husband removes his wife's garter, a thin band of fabric worn around the thigh, and tosses it to the crowd. The one who catches it is said to be the next to marry. It's a symbol of good luck.

You watch as Tiia takes a seat in a chair brought out to the center floor. She is bright pink and you can't help but laugh a little. Frankie comes around the chair, taking her hand and kissing it gently. He says something you can't make out, but Tiia smiles.

"Come on Frankie!" Benny hollers.

"Oh be quiet Benny!" Frankie quips, flipping off his friend. "Not like you want it!"

"The hell I don't!"

Everyone laughs.

Santiago's hand slides over your knee, pushing the dress aside and allowing it to fall open. He can't keep his hands off of you it seems.

Frankie kneels down and pushes Tiia's dress up to expose her legs.

Santiago's hand inches up your leg, massaging his fingertips tenderly into the soft skin. You spare him a glance and his focus seems to be on the married couple like everyone else.

Frankie leans in and grabs the garter with his teeth and the guests cheer him on. You attempt to clap but your brain is elsewhere, short circuiting on the arousal nerves between your legs.

"Do you want it?" Santiago purrs in your ear and you shiver. Why did that have to sound like such a loaded question. Do you want what? Him? The garter? His attention?

"W-what?"

"The garter."

You turn your head to look at him and reply when suddenly you're smacked in the face with something. You jump, startled by the sudden sensation, and look down at the table where the white garter is sitting on it.

Somewhere Benny is hollering wildly, and Frankie says something along the lines of how you're the lucky lady. You don't hear it really because Santiago grabs the garter and rubs it between his fingers, smiling at you playfully. His other hand is still on your leg, farther up and dangerously close to your underwear.

"I'd love to see you in this." He says, fingers flexing on your skin. "And nothing else."

"Santiago!" You whisper sharply and he leans in close.

His lips meet yours and your heart stops. The world stops. His hand leaves your thigh and slides around to your hip, the other cradles your head, angling your face for better access.

It's like years of tension have finally broken and now it's coming out like breach in a dam. You reach for him, not sure what to grab but you land on his hair and his shoulder. He deepens the kiss, tongue pushing past your lips to roll against yours. He tastes like minty gum and you can't get enough.

He grips your hips with both hands and hauls you over onto his lap. The chair creaks under the weight of two bodies. You can't care, this is a dream come true. You don't want to stop kissing him because if you do, it feels like it might never happen again.

"Baby," Santiago groans into your mouth as you roll your hips down against his lap, desperate for some release. "Baby we gotta stop."

"No," you lick into his mouth desperately and he chases your lips, biting gently to slow you down.

His hand finds your hair and grips firmly, pulling you back. "Listen to me."

You stare at him, eyes locked on to his. They're so full of promises of what's to come. He looks as wrecked as you do, you're sure. "Yes?"

He grins slowly, leaning in for a soft kiss. "God you're beautiful like this."

You try to return the kiss, chasing his lips as he pulls back but his grip in your hair is firm.

"We're still at the wedding." He says softly. "I don't think we should be grinding on each other in such a public setting."

You lean back, settling yourself back on his thighs. Reality comes creeping in, a cold rush of embarrassment rising up your spine. He's right. You're at the wedding still, everyone can see you right now. You got so caught up in the euphoria that you forgot where you were.

"Santiago, you son of a bitch." Benny says from behind you. "You finally did it."

You turn and look back while Santiago leans over to see Benny. "Go away."

"Oh I will, I'll leave you two to face suck like teenagers. I just wanted to say it's about time. How was it?"

"Benny." Santiago says warningly.

You look between the two of them. "How was the kiss?"

Benny nods.

"Good, really good? Why?"

Santiago groans.

"Do you know why we call him Pope?" Benny asks and you shake your head. "It's because he brings you closer to God when he gets his hands on you."

"Benny! Fuck off!" Santiago shouts and throws a fork on the table at him. Benny dodges the projectile and runs off laughing. "God damn menace."

You run your hand through his curls, brushing your thumb over a little spot of grays peeking through. "Is that true?"

"Is what true? The Pope thing?"

"Yeah. Is that why they call you Pope?"

Santiago smiles softly. "It is. It's stupid and childish but-"

"I like it." You slide off his lap and lean in close to his ear. "You took me closer to God with a kiss, I can only imagine what more will be like." You grab his hand and before he can respond you step back, pulling his arm up. "Dance with me?"

_____________________

You and Santiago dance for a long time, slow and sweet. After about the tenth song he kisses your temple and says he needs to take a seat, his knees are killing him. You part from him and he goes to sit with Will and Frankie who are near the bar. You turn and head to the bride and grooms table to sit with Tiia.

"Hey you," Tiia says with a playful smirk. "I thought you were gonna get eaten alive earlier."

"I'm sorry." You sink down into Frankie's chair and she laughs. "I just lost my mind for a few minutes there. Was everyone staring?"

"No, everyone got up to dance and get food from the buffett. I noticed, obviously, because I've been watching you all night."

"Creepy."

Tiia pushes your shoulder. "Oh shut up. I set you up, but I never could have guessed this outcome."

"You set me up?"

"Yeah? I picked Santiago to be your best man. I knew the two of you have had chemistry since you met. I just gave you a little nudge in the right direction." She looks smug as she takes a sip of her wine. "You're welcome."

"You're a troublemaker."

"Matchmaker, thank you."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe too good of a match maker. I sucked face while you had your first dance."

She laughs, nearly spitting out her wine. "I don't need everyone to watch me dance with my husband to validate our marriage. You're my best friend, the fact that you are just as happy on my wedding day as I am, that means the world to me. You deserve a good man, and Santiago is a very good man."

"You really aren't mad I didn't pay attention?"

"Nope, because I can guarantee you I'll be all over Frankie at your wedding."

"My wedding? Yeah we'll be in our sixties before that happens." You pick at a spot on the front of your dress, directing your focus elsewhere in hopes of ending this conversation. "No one wants to marry me."

Tiia kicks you. "Bullshit. If you asked Santiago right now to run away and get married at a little chapel in Vegas he'd say yes."

"No he wouldn't. He's not reckless."

"Yes, he is. When it comes to you there is nothing he wouldn't do."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," she says mockingly. "Do you have any idea what he has told Frankie?"

You narrow your eyes. "You're lying."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Once. A birthday present that I figured out."

Tiia rolls her eyes. "That doesn't count."

"Why would Frankie tell you about what he and Santiago discuss?"

"Because I'm nosey and I ask. Plus, you're my best friend and you two have obvious chemistry."

"So what did he say?"

Tiia points to Santiago as he makes his way across the room. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Tiia!"

"What's my two favorite women chatting about huh?" Santiago smiles and hands you a glass.

You look down into the glass. You can't drink today, you're Benny's designated driver.

"It's non alcoholic, don't worry."

"Thank you."

"She doesn't need alcohol to get a little crazy." Tiia teases, elbowing you from her seat. "She has a better drug, right Pope?"

Santiago chuckles. "You're never going to let us live that moment down huh?"

"Never. I was surprised you didn't just take her to the bathroom."

"Tiia!" You shove her and she cackles. "God!"

"I'm teasing you. Seriously, if you guys wanna get out of here and have a little fun I'll get someone to take Benny home." Tiia looks across the way at the table where Benny is telling some animated story. "Or he can sleep on the couch at me and Frankie's house. We'll drop him off before we go to the hotel."

Santiago shakes his head. "I'm not stepping out on your wedding, and I'm sorry for the behavior earlier. It's not the right time or place."

"You two are a match. She said the same thing when she came over. I'm not mad, I'm happy you're happy." Tiia stands and walks around the table to stand before Santiago. She lays a hand on his cheek before giving it a hard pat. "Problema."

"Un poco."

"Oh no you're big trouble, not little trouble." She says and shoves his head back playfully. "Go, make my girl happy."

Santiago smiles and kisses her forehead. "You heard the lady." He offers his hand to you. "Can I take you home?"

"One more dance?"

"I think I can manage that."

You follow Santiago out onto the dancefloor, hand in his as he lays his other on your waist. A slow song comes on, one you've heard a few times on the radio but never paid much attention to.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He says softly out of nowhere.

"I'm just as much to blame."

"I just got a little ahead of myself, like Benny said, I felt like a horny teenager."

You giggle and lean your head on his shoulder. "It's been a while, and we built this tension to a boiling point. We were bound to snap someday."

Santiago runs his hand up your back and cradles your neck loosely. "Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes, but I don't mind hearing it again."

He drops his head to your ear and places a little kiss on the outer shell. "You'd look even more beautiful in my bedroom."

A hot flush warms your cheeks. "Santi...cool it."

"I can't help it." He grins and you hear rather than see it. "I just want to eat you up."

"We can stay a bit longer." You kiss his throat and he lets out a quiet groan that you relish in, grinning big ear to ear against his skin. "It'll do you good to wait. You'll want it more."

_____________________

The sound of a cell phone ringing rips you from a deep sleep. It's unfamiliar, not your ringtone but shrill and annoying nonetheless. The room is bright, the sun shining through the cream colored blinds and past the sheer curtains. Everything is familiar but like you had seen it in a dream, nothing was quite the same as you remember. You sit up and look around. Yes. It's the same as last night, the lighting makes things look different is all.

"Make it stop," Santiago groans from beside you.

"I don't know where it is." You pat around the blankets, trying to find the source of noise. "It's your phone."

"Fuck." He sits up and you get a full view of his strong, bare back in the bright daylight. There are a few scars, but one big one just behind his shoulder gets your attention. It looks strange, like a paint splatter of pink skin against his tan complexion.

You reach out to touch the scar, trace it curiously. What on Earth made a scar like that. "Santi?"

"Just a minute baby." He leans over and your hand falls to the bed. He comes back up with the phone in hand and swipes the screen to deny the call.

You lay back and he crawls under the covers beside you.

"Now, good morning." He grins, touching your nose and you sniffle. "I hope you're not too sore."

"Me?" You giggle, rolling to face him head on. "I'd be more worried about you."

Santiago chuckles. "Because of my knees?"

"Yeah and your back." You slide your hand over his shoulder and explore the scar with your fingertips. "What's this one from?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Mmhmm."

"A bullet." He takes your hand away and threads his fingers between yours. "A sniper when I was twenty seven. We were on a mission somewhere in the Ukraine. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and boom." He chuckles softly. "It went straight through. I suppose I'm lucky, they were clearly aiming for something more vital and missed."

You play with his fingers and he watches. What do you say? Sorry? Wow? You know Santiago and the guys are ex military special forces. You know they all have their scars and close call stories. You've heard the others tell them over and over but Santiago...he has always been quiet.

"It's a lot to take in." He murmurs, bringing your knuckles up to kiss.

You laugh softly, more to yourself than anything. "I broke my leg falling out of a tree once."

Santiago chuckles. "Bet that hurt." He kisses your knuckles again and lets his lips linger. "It's okay if you're not sure how to respond."

"Thank you," you mutter sheepishly.

His phone starts ringing again and he sighs. He rolls over and grabs it, bringing it back to lay between the two of you. "It's Frankie."

"Answer it."

"Should I? You don't mind?"

You shake your head. "He might need you."

Santiago swipes to answer and presses the phone to his ear. "Buenos dias pendejo."

You smile and he gives you a cheeky grin. That's a little bit of Spanish you do know. "Be nice."

He mouths a quick, 'No' before speaking again. "Why are you calling me after your wedding night? Shouldn't you and Tiia be sleeping? I didn't give you that money to wake me up at the crack of dawn when you're meant to be boarding a plane to Hawaii for your honeymoon in a few hours."

"Hawaii sounds good." You snuggle down into the blankets, imagining the warm sun on your body.

"Yes she's fine." Santiago chuckles softly. "Did you want to talk to her?"

You raise your eyebrows and he gives you a wink.

"Here you go." He passes you the phone and you press it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Did that dick make you stupid?" Tiia asks through a laugh.

"Shut up!" You laugh, rolling over onto your back. Santiago's arm snakes across your waist and he pulls you close, face in your shoulder. "I'll hang up on you."

"Really though, did you guys have a good night? I just wanted Frankie to call and make sure you got home okay."

"Yes, we got home okay. It was a good night."

Santiago hums against your skin, biting playfully at your jaw. "It could be a better morning."

"Which one of you said I love you first?"

"Tiia."

"I know it happened."

"Goodbye Tiia, I'm hanging up now."

"Oh you-"

You toss the phone into the pillows and close your eyes. Santiago lazily kisses your neck, his short beard giving you a bit of a burn on your shoulder.

"It was me." He whispers between kisses.

"Hmm?"

"I said it first."

"You could hear her?" You shift around and lay so you're face to face agan.

He nods. “Do you remember?"

"Mmm. You said I love you, mallma?"

He presses a kiss to your lips. "It's mi alma. Do you want to know what that means?"

"Yes."

"It means, my soul." He runs a hand through your hair and brings you close for another kiss. "It's a pet name for someone you really care deeply for."

You grip his back and press your forehead to his. You give a sheepish smile. "How do you say I love you again?"

"Te amo."

"Te amo, Santiago."

He grins and chuckles softly. "We'll work on the accent."

"Good thing I have the best teacher."

"Yes you do."

"Until then," You tuck your face into his neck and he threads a hand in your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

End

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Header by delicate-venus

Dedication: To delicate-venus, because you let me write your dream wedding for you with your dream man as inspiration for this fic.

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*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fan fic #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier santiago garcia #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #fransisco catfish morales #sanitago garcia x reader #fic #fanfic

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hyunhour · 4 years ago

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when he calls me pretty, i feel like somebody] [ changbin au

a/n: okay this is a short changbin drabble but honestly.... LONG OVERDUE!!!!/!/!/₩/2: and if u can’t tell by the title yet, it is loosely inspired by cloud 9 by beach bunny (sosososo cute btw) yes am so sorry... it is self indulgent n honestly wnted to keep this in the drafts but i think it could serve as a comfort fic for some and i hope it does c:

f2l trope kinda??? fluff mixed w angst ahakz!’snajs changbin x femreader

tw: body dysmorphia, mentions of self-harm

word count: 1.4k

you think that you’re not worthy of any love simply because you do not fit into the society’s beauty standards or you’re just not “conventionally beautiful” or whatever it is they say nowadays. but seo changbin thinks otherwise; he thinks you’re the prettiest little thing he’s ever laid eyes on since day one.

Curiousity got the best of Seo Changbin. But when he peeks through the gap of the door left ajar, he doesn’t expect to see her standing before the mirror in the most vulnerable position yet.

All that left her body were muffled sobs, she was crying through the bunched up fabric that she gathered in her mouth. It revealed her abdomen, bare for everyone to see. One hand was clamped over her mouth and the other clawed at her soft tummy, and it went on for a while.

Her legs visibly trembled underneath her as she grabbed the side of her belly, squeezing the fat that gathered there. Her knuckles turned white the tighter she squeezed, but it didn’t seem like she was crying from the physical pain she was inflicting upon herself (rather a type of intangible pain) and he can clearly see the red lines that ran across the surface of her skin.

Even from afar, Changbin could see the trickling of blood that rose above the broken skin, albeit small but smeared all over the smooth expanse of her tummy. All he could think was, why? Why would she ever do such a thing?

“Why are you crying?” his throat was swollen when he finally managed to speak up, hand clenching on the doorknob for dear life because god forbid he found out whoever made her feel this way; he barely has the control to pull himself together, let alone throw a punch or two.

She’s startled, rightfully so, his abrupt entrance causing the back of her knees to hit the edge of the bed when she stumbles. “Changbin... why are you here?” her voice is calm, nothing of what she is actually. When she turns to look at him in the face, he swears that he heard his heart shatter within his body.

Because he isn’t prepared for the sight. He’s never seen her so raw and vulnerable, face pink and puffy, eyes bloodshot red and the crimson red underneath her fingernails. She pulls her shirt further down, fists clenched at her sides as she stubbornly drags the fabric past her thighs.

It takes a lot, for him to be able to close the distance between the both of them and seat her onto the bed. “Why are you crying?” Changbin reiterates, settling between her legs as he rests on his knees. She doesn’t answer immediately, only shielding herself by placing her hands over her face.

She shakes her head and hopes he would simply just drop it. “I can’t tell you.” she’s struggling to even say anything, voice all scratchy from all the wailing beforehand.

He prys her hands away from her face, his tremulous hands then tucking strays of her hair behind her ears. Beads of sweat rolled down her swollen cheeks, though it wasn’t the most appropriate for this situation, he wonders how she can still look so pretty like this. “You don’t have to. But I need you to know that I’m worried,” he reassures her, voice dropping an octave low to ease her further.

She leans into his hand, cheek resting against his palm and he feels his heart practically rip through his chest. He thinks for a moment, he would like this moment to last. Where she trusts him enough to lift the veil she conceals herself under, by herself, without needing anyone to forcefully peel it away.

“Did you see his new girl?” her voice is practically quiet, so small that if it was anyone else, they would probably not be able to catch anything. But this was Seo Changbin, he cared for her and was most attentive to her. Traits that a lot of people around her severely lacked unfortunately. It is okay though, she thinks, because he is more than enough.

He tilts his head to the side in confusion, brows furrowed together as he tries to comprehend what her ex-boyfriend’s new partner would have to do with her bawling her eyes out. Unconsciously, his hands dropped to his lap, clenched into fists. “What about her?”

She only lets out a weak-hearted laugh, a painful smile that he refuses to witness ever again because this was just way too much for him to bear. “She’s beautiful.” she inhales sharply, her voice trembling and the tough front she displayed for him crumbles down almost immediately.

He holds back a scoff, hand reaching her knee to rub small circles around it. “She’s so, beautiful. So, so pretty...” she’s out of breath yet again, “–slim and slender..” even with her wavering eyes, he still manages to lock eyes with her. “She fits so nicely in his arms, all nice and snug. His t-shirt, it looks big on her but on me–“ her breath hitches, “–god, I probably looked so fucking ugly.”

“And?” he prompts.

“And, she’s so... not me.” she finishes, catching her bottom lip in between her teeth.

He’s never felt this much anger seething from within him. He has no idea who to be mad at, was it her stupid ex, the new girl or her? His heart physically thrums against his ribs, pounding painfully against his chest and he doesn’t even realize he’s gripping onto her knee so harshly until she winces in pain.

“Say something.” she says as she peels his fingers away from her knee. The corners of his lips tug upwards as he looks up at her, throbbing eyes observing every small detail of hers—the creases of her lips, his shirt that she was wearing that looked exceptionally good on her, her luscious thighs which he unknowingly splayed his digits on to rub soothing circles yet again.

“You’re insane, you know that?” he sighs, an incredulous laugh leaving past his lips. One of her eyebrows cocks up as he says this, unsure of what exactly he was trying to say. “Me?” she points at herself.

“Yes you.” he nods his head.

Silence settles between the both of them before he speaks up again. “You are so beautiful, and it’s insane to me that you can’t even see that.” a sliver of his teeth shows through his wide smile, and her heart wrenches at how adorable he looks, wide eyes peering up so innocently at her.

Changbin’s eyes looked like it was filled with stars were dancing within a galaxy of its own. But really all he was looking at was her, she held the universe within herself and he admired that. He looked at her like she was his world.

“Stop lying, it’s not funny.” she says sternly, arms crossing above her chest. He breaks into a small laugh, reaching for her hands and slipping his fingers in between hers. “I’m not lying, you idiot.”

She feels like all of the air within her lungs had been knocked out of her the moment he brings her into his chest, his calloused hand carding through her hair as he rests the underside of his chin above her head. Sure they have hugged several times before but something about this felt much more, intimate. Maybe it was the way he was running his fingers through the knotty bits of her hair so easily, or the way he sways their bodies to an unknown rhythm or the–

“I love you.” Changbin whispers, his voice so soft coupled with the sweet syllables, almost like a mimicry of melted chocolate and warm milk. It oozed of pure bliss. “I love every part of you, the top of your head to the tip of your toes. God, I love them all. And if I could let you see through my eyes for even a second, I would, cause’ then maybe you’d be able to understand why the hell I love you the way I do.”

She feels like crying. This time it isn’t the green envy or the seething anger from before, this time it’s different... This time it’s pure jovial tears. Her glossy eyes meets with his crescent moon shaped eyes, his smile stretching from ear to ear once they pull away. “Do you mean that?”

“When have I ever lied to you?” he rests his forehead against hers, his palms holding both her cheeks. “You’re really, really gorgoeus. Inside out.” he breathes, shying away from her for a moment as if he did not profess his love for her seconds ago. He’s a little flustered, cheeks reddening from the realization sinking in (clearly he was not used to being so endearing) and she laughs at this.

“Really? You’re shy now?” she giggles, and she feels as though all the weight had been lifted off her shoulders and she feels so free in his arms like this.

“Shut up.” he brings her head into his chest once again, muffling her next words.

Changbin has never failed her not once, and she doesn’t think he will ever do so.

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starshiningsirius · 4 years ago

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A rose with its thorns (Overblot Riddle x reader)

🥳🥳🥳🥳 Happy Birthday to the handsome King of Heartsbyul!🥳🥳🥳🥳 I give you this piece of work I tried to add to last minute.

To the people who requested Azul school has started back and has been kicking my ass with work but I will try to get it out with the request probably all put together since a lot of you requested him after reading the others.

"Why don't you smile dearest? You don't look so happy to be in the Queen's presence." He said with a calm tone but there was a hidden strictness behind it that made it known he wasn't tolerating insubordination.

A small smile made its way upon her face. It was forced twitching slightly downward. Sitting at a table across from the former dorm leader with a sickening amount of sweets situated on the table.

Riddle noticed but he didn't dwell on it too long as something else caught his attention. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to the female sitting at the table.

"Queen of Hearts Rule number 15, one shouldn't slouch in dining area or within the prescene of others. Honestly not a bit of magic and yet you can't manage simple manners. You should be so grateful I'm here for that dearest." He forcibly held her chin smiling at her smugly.

The girl couldn't help but think about the events prior to where she was now. How his majesty came to be such a tyrant.

After being challenged and severely losing the two first years already lost their magic as soon as the battle begun. Not to mention being punched in the face by Ace and having an egg thrown at him as well. That much humiliation set him off. Riddle Rosenhearts became the Crimson tyrant and for some reason the only female in the school who managed to win his heart had stood against him.

Of course he was angry he had a right to be, that's why he insulted her intellect and not only that but her parents as well. His mother wouldn't stand for him to love someone like that. The thought of her leaving him for another world also stood out in his mind and forged a deep feeling of madness within even worse than anything Wonderland could conjure.

But it was alright now, he'd just have to put in a bit more effort into this relationship. It would not trouble at all. It only stood to be plausible that he'd have to fix those faults of hers. Every single one. For every rose has its thorns.

So when she ran away as soon as the two seniors that stood against him collapsed he was beyond furious. Heartsbyul was no more, all of its students were afraid of their dorm head and all had their head cut off. His head surely wasn't on the sane end of the spectrum just as the rules of the Queen of Hearts weren't either.

"Find her, bring her back here this instant! Or it's off off with your head!"

He meant this and his screech reach the ears of the runaway princess who managed to get lost in the rose maze. Her outfit was a dress that matched the Heartsbyul uniforms courtesy of their vice dorm leader before it all went wrong.

That screech from him was far worse than she could imagine considering all of them already had their magic taken, she wondered if he would literally cut it off just to bring her back into hell.

She wonders if the girl who had also ran away from the actual Queen had felt this much fear being chased by the card soilders. The girl she had recently dreamed of before all of this occurred. If she had stood against the insanity of the Queen with magic or not. It was ironic she found herself in that same situation now.

As she found another dead end she could hear the footsteps of students after her. Tired and panting from sprinting she began to curse one person in her head.

That useless pitiful excuse of a Headmaster fled with his tail between his legs. Saying along the lines of getting more help to defeat him. Yet he wasn't back yet, and while he was gone and safe his students were unconscious and injured!

"Hey we found her!"

That snapped her from her thoughts seeing as one student called for two others to join him. As they apprehended her she struggled and dragged her partly white dress turned brown in places.

Riddle had a smirk on his face as his beloved rose was bought back to him. He ordered them to go away and looked toward the magicless girl in front of him who was on her knees covered in dirt. He tilted her chin up the red hue over his left eye flaring with excitement and a sadistic air about him seeing the resistance within the radiant flower.

"My dear you are the most beautiful rose here, so shouldn't it be fair that the Queen has only the best for themselves? One rose with a few more thorns is nothing for me to tend to. I'll make sure to pull at everyone of them until you are absolutely perfect to fit even my mother's standards."

He'll give her all the love he was given when he was a kid, reforming her was just his way of showing his affection. It was how his mother and how he would love her.

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader

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crazynekochan · 3 years ago

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Dangan Persona Palace #8 (holy shit, this's a long one)

[Haven't written for this AU in ages but college sucks. Thank god for summer] Ruled by Hajime Hinata/Izuru Kamukura (it’s a weird mix). Captives are Chiaki Nanami and Nagito Komaeda (will be trapped forever if not rescued in time). This one is rather odd since, in the original timeline, Hajime and Izuru share the same body while in this timeline, as facilitated by the big bad, Izuru is his own person. Hajime's shadow is rather basic, he's the king of the castle, self-aggrandizing, and yet clearly insecure about himself. But Izuru's shadow is where things start going sideways then take a sharp corkscrew on different axes because he's the head patient of the facility, bound up in a straitjacket over a hospital gown, representing how Izuru (either version), just feels like some sick experiment. But there’s something off: Izuru in this version as his own person is just bad with emotions, but the shadow represents both universes’ versions of Izuru, so the shadow Izuru switches between being very emotional yet showing it poorly and having no emotions at all. In addition, the shadows also fuse into a combined form on occasion, looking like a filthy mental patient with a crown on their head that shocks them on occasion (like electroshock therapy that Hajime was subjected to as part of the IK project). In his boss form, the shadows split into 2 enemies: the Beggar King with 10K Faces (shadow Hajime, representing him as the Wild Card with a ton of Personas) and the Faceless 100-armed Mad God (shadow Izuru, representing how even with his many talents, he feels emotionless and empty). The actual palace itself is a strange mix of a standard fancy castle and an abandoned hospital where horrific experiments were performed on the patients. Many of the rooms and puzzles rely on the mixing of the 2. The enemy shadows mostly are various gods and deities, generally high-ranking ones, or absolute horror shows. What is very significant are the 2 mini-boss fights of this palace: a Shadow Nagito and Shadow Chiaki, set near the end of the hospital side and castle side respectively. This is technically related to plot developments a bit later on in the story but for the moment let's just call it "magic fuckery" and move on. Basically, Shadow Nagito is considered the model patient of the asylum while Shadow Chiaki is the "King's" closest advisor. The fight against Shadow Nagito is honestly really sad because it's very clear that he doesn't really understand what's going on or why he's hurting people, with this overwhelming sense of dread and misery coming from the Shadow. The fight itself is just as bad as you'd expect fighting a version of Nagito with his insane luck. His boss form is a torn to all hell voodoo doll of himself with a massive pin straight through his head among others. He uses Curse and Bless skills and almost every turn, he either misses or gets crits, with actually hitting him being a similar pain in the ass for anyone without a high luck stat or right after he got a critical hit on someone. Fortunately, his terrible health means that the Shadow has similar bad health and frankly, his defense is absolutely godawful, so if you can actually hit him, it would be a short fight. He's beaten down and honestly so fucking sad that they just have to take him to his room to rest and just take the key off of him to the final area. Now the fight against Shadow Chiaki, that's the real son of a bitch right there. The shadow is sincerely, incredibly bored by pretty much anything that comes to her path and she just wants shit to be over with already, sheesh, completely against how much real Chiaki cares. Because she's partially based on the original human Chiaki and there's some of the AI Chiaki from DR2, so when her actual fight comes, the Shadow's form (a spin on Sleeping Beauty where she's more of a very bored hikikomori, still in PJs and not even bothering to try sitting up) is glitching like a video game. That's not the worst part of it, though. The worst part comes when Akane, as one of the ones with the best speed, makes her first

attack and turns out, the glitching makes Akane glitch out as well, which is pretty much a special status where you act as erratically as possible and pretty much scrambles the metaphorical controls to hell and back. Akane tried to grab an item to cure the status and threw Kazuichi at the Shadow too, making him a liability too. So now part of the party is "glitched" and since they don't know how to fix them without possibly hurting them or risking getting infected in case it's a contagious effect, it's pretty much persona skills and items only until the fight ends. A detail made significantly harder by the fact that Shadow Chiaki, like regular Chiaki, knows everything about video games and basically it's a ton of meta bullshit that makes it one of the most annoying fights in the history of Persona or even the MegaTen franchise. By some great fortune, she's got bad defense and speed stats so if you can outspeed her, you can kill her fast. After the battle, shadow Chiaki retreats right away, conveniently leaving the key to the final boss room. In the final room, the 2 shadows are bickering while Nagito and Chiaki are in 2 cells behind them, respectively furnished like a very fancy hospital room and an awesome gamer pad. Which would be very nice if they weren't being held captive by the manifestations of their best friends' (lover in Nagito's case about Hajime) worst repressed parts of themselves in a parallel world. They confront the Shadows, both of them highly unamused with their "real" counterparts and especially taking time to just eviscerate pretty much every failing the Hinata-Kamukuras ever had, in this timeline and the original. Then, with that all resolved, they morph into the boss forms and thus start one of the hardest battles the party had ever faced because my god, these fuckers will just not go down! But that's not the end of everything, sadly, because there's a 2nd fight after this that I will elaborate on in the next part because this is getting way too long

---

Mod: The fighting against all the shadows must be pure hell. Because Nagito's BS luck is straight up unfair in every way there is. Chiaki's glitch status effect is disturbingly scary. And fighting against Hajime and especially Izuru is basically god tier level of difficult, since in the original (canon game) timeline he is basically superhuman and unbeatable. Also the designs you came up with rock! I can't even say with one I like the most, since all sound so awesome and fitting to them all. Well done

Going through the palace must be so confusing for the party. Because they can understand Hajime's part. He has one hell of an ego and thinks he's better than everyone else despite him really not being any better than anyone and being rather average. However Izuru makes no sense to them until they at some point find out the truth of the new time line, since Izuru isn't an experiment here after all unlike before

#submission #danganronpa #komahina #hajime hinata #izuru kamukura #nagito komaeda #chiaki namani #dangan persona au #friendlylifecherry

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sambergscott · 5 years ago

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i'll promise that i'll love you for the rest of my life

one giving the other flowers, as requested by @rosalitadiazz AGES ago, also dedicated to @397bartonstreet for the initial idea of amy sleeping in/just being the best and @nine-niall for helping with the marriage highlight reel.... and for making me listen to heartbreak weather on repeat for the last few days and coming up with this title

happy anniversary to jake and amy!!! (also since the ep aired 2 years ago today i'm not *technically* late thank u very much)

One million, fifty one thousand and two hundred minutes after marrying Amy Santiago (or, two years), every moment is as wonderful as day one. He still feels the same rush of excitement when he sees her waiting by their car at the end of a shift, the same swell of pride when she introduces him to someone as her husband, the same “oh my god we’re actually married” moment when he catches her rings glinting in the sunlight. It’s been the best one million, fifty one thousand and two hundred minutes of his life. And while he appreciates every single second they have together, knowing how in their line of work things can change all too easy, their second anniversary presents the perfect opportunity to remind her that everyday he gets to be with someone as amazing as her is crazy to him.

He has flowers, a handmade card, he even hoovered and she’s still asleep.

She never sleeps this late.

Everyone knows she’s the morning person in their relationship and he’s the Get Out Of Bed After Snoozing The Alarm Seventeen Times person. They live together, share a car, and yet most mornings he ends up riding the Subway, squashed between an old woman and a nerdy looking guy who smells like he hasn’t showered in a week, Amy rolling her eyes when he gets to work mid-briefing. The rare days she can get him out of bed early usually involve some kind of bribery using food and/or sex.

The point is, he’s supposed to be the one sleeping in past 11 AM, but ever since their doctor prescribed Clomid to help stimulate ovulation and boost their chances of making a baby, their roles have been totally reversed like Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis in Freaky Friday.

Pregnant Amy falls asleep anywhere and everywhere. The couch, the car, the cleaning cupboard at work when she was trying to find some Nuclear-strength cleaner to remove the stench of Charles’ lunch from the air before she hurled again.

She could sleep all day if he let her and he quite easily could. She looks so peaceful and cute and free from the stresses of her family asking why they waited so long (well, long for Santiago standards) to start a family. Plus, the messy hair and tiny bit of drool on her chin are impossibly endearing in the way only she can be.

He smiles and wraps his arms around her, resting his head on his shoulder, his hands - like his thoughts - drifting to her growing bump as they inevitably always do.

This time next year they’ll be celebrating with their little boy or girl, telling them all about the insane, magical day that was May 15th 2018. Of course, it might be some time before they can fully grasp the TV-worthy drama of the creepy phone call, the bomb in the vent, the ex-boyfriend proposing - twice! - and the wall of Amy photos, but they will sure as dammit know how beautiful their mom looked in her dress and how happy their dad was when Grandpa Holt finally announced them as husband and wife.

“Can’t breathe,” his wife squeaks, finally awake. “Arms too tight.”

“Oops. Sorry, babe.” He kisses her by way of apology; sometimes when he gets to thinking about that day, about seeing her walk down the shredded paper aisle under the glow of fairy lights, surrounded by the very people who watched them fall in love, he kind of forgets where he is and what he’s doing.

She’s always had that intoxicating effect on him. That’s never gonna change.

“Time is it?” She yawns, stretching her arms above her head.

“Twenty five to,” he pauses to brace himself for her reaction, “...twelve.”

“Twelve?” Horrified, she moves to get out of bed and yeah, he knows her so well. “Let me go,” she huffs in frustration when he forms a barrier to keep her from leaving.

“No can do, Santiago,” he says authoritatively. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone and you’re pregnant. You need to rest. We’ve both got the day off, our dinner reservations aren’t until 8. Just let your husband take care of you for a couple of hours.”

She chews on her lower lip, making her contemplative face that he recognises from sitting opposite her for so many years, preferring watching her piece together the leads in a case rather than work on his own. “Fine,” she eventually concedes. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

“Happy anniversary,” he returns the sentiment, kissing her again because, well, he can, one of the perks of marrying Amy Santiago (alongside a perfectly organised sock drawer and getting to hang out with the best person in the world 24 sevs). “I got you these,” he adds, procuring the daffodil bouquet he found online.

“Jake,” she sighs dreamily, placing the flowers on her nightstand. “They’re beautiful. And my favourites.”

“I know,” he smirks. He may not be Santiago level smart, but he’s smart when it comes to all things Santiago. “Also made you this.” He hands over the card.

She opens it, instantly tearing up at his sweet message inside, the dam bursting when she notices the scrawled message written with his wrong hand from their unborn baby. “Mine sucks in comparison,” she laments, passing him his card before locking her eyes back on the words ‘happy anniversary to the world’s best mama’.

“It does not suck,” he reassures her, clutching it to his chest. “I’m going to savour it for all times. I want to be buried with it.”

She rolls her eyes, drying her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I thought you wanted to be buried with your original copy of Die Hard.”

“OK, Die Hard and your card. Rhymes for a reason, Ames.”

“You’re such a dork,” she responds, stifling her laughter. “Can’t believe I’ve been married to you for two full years.”

“I know.” He grins. “What was your favourite part?”

Her eyes glimmer with excitement and love and memories of their first anniversary before things turned upside down. “Are you suggesting we do a marriage highlight reel à la NBA inside stuff?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I’ll go first. NUMBER FIVE,” he yells in his spot on Ahmad Rashad impression, earning a giggle from his wife. “Number five is that dress you wore on my birthday. Your butt looked the bomb in it.”

“Thanks, babe.” Two years in, she’s used to the constant “your butt is the bomb” comments, often uttered at the most inappropriate of times like when she stands up to brief the squad or play soccer with her brothers, much to her chagrin and their delight.

“Number four,” she quickly moves on. “The time you taught me to play Mario Party and I beat Wario on the first try.”

“That was my worst moment,” he groans.

“And that’s why it’s my best.”

He sighs, considers debating it, engaging in the classic back-and-forth that is the very foundation of their relationship, but it’s moot. She was way better than him. Santiago’s learn fast. It’s in their genes or something. And despite the crushing disappointment when she beat Wario with ease and dork danced her way to the kitchen to grab them both an orange soda, it was still a very fun night and a worthy moment in the highlight reel.

“Number Three. The York murder.”

Immediate understanding spreads across Amy’s face, but he explains anyway.

“I spent three days working that case and you just came in, saw the board and solved it right away.”

“I’m very smart,” she jokes lightheartedly.

“You are,” he agrees, his voice coming out softer and sincerer than even he imagined. “I love that about you. I love your brain. I love how good you are at your job, at figuring out puzzles. I love that you listen to NPR and know so much about the font Helvetica and have read, like, a million books. I love that you do a crossword every night and I love how proud you look when you give me a sports clue and I actually get it right. I love cheering you on at Trivia Nights even when Kylie can’t stop glaring at me. How lucky am I to have the smartest wife in the world?”

Touched, she can barely compile her thoughts to reveal her Number Two.

“The night at Shaw’s, at Hitchcock’s second divorce party, your speech, the way you kissed me, the way you were so gentle when we got home,” she sniffles. “It was special and made me feel so loved and if I say anymore I’m going to cry again, so you go.”

He chuckles knowingly. The pregnancy hormones have been making her extra emotional lately, they can’t even watch commercials anymore without her fully weeping. And while last year Pam and her twisted bowels interrupted before they could get to Number One, this year Number One is obvious. Clear as day. And there’s no one to interrupt.

He pretends to think about it for a minute (because he will always love teasing her, married or not). Only when she grabs his arm and digs her nails into his skin does he put both their hands on her bump and smiles. “Obviously this little guy or gal is Number One.”

She smiles back at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

His own face falls. “Ames?”

“It’s been a hard year, hasn’t it?” She sighs, thinking back to calendars and fertility appointments and the strict no nacho policy.

“Yeah,” he says, “it has. But this next year is gonna be the best one yet.”

“I mean... We’re probably not going to sleep a lot.”

“You might not sleep a lot but I sure will,” he teases, his words falling flat. “Just kidding, babe. Obviously I’m going to get up for all the feeds and diaper changes and whatever else this kid throws at us. Gonna be there for you both. No matter what.”

The pregnancy hormones strike again and she starts crying and, honestly, he can’t wait for this baby to get out, for more reasons than one.

“BRB, I’ll go make your favourite breakfast to make you feel better, don’t grow anymore body parts while I’m gone.”

He returns seven minutes later with pancakes, a ton of fruit, decaf coffee and another kiss. He climbs back into bed, devours his own Nutella pancakes and posts his favourite blurry, drunk on Champagne and love selfie from their makeshift wedding reception at Shaw’s, on Insta with a caption about how he promises he’s gonna love her for the rest of his life.

And he keeps that promise.

#b99 fic #jake x amy #my writing #dork danced is my new favourite verb

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jaamesbbaarnes · 5 years ago

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Lockdown

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: talk of virus related topics, death, sickness, isolation

Summary: A virus has taken over most of the world. Some are handling it better than others.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I know the world is crazy right now and we all are experiencing different levels of uncertainty. This is my way of dealing with it all.

He moved down the hallway, his hands fidgeting. There were only so many times someone could work out, run simulated tactical missions and clean their weapons so many times before going stir crazy. This was going to be a long three weeks. If not more.

Outbreak, pandemic, fear. They all ran through the streets of New York City. The virus was spreading its way as a rapid pace through the Empire State as well as the rest of the world. People were scared, and rightfully so. Healthy people getting sick, hospitalized and, in unfortunate cases, dying of a virus many professionals knew almost nothing about.

It had been a decision of the governor to shut down the city to slow down the spread. No one in or out unless it was absolutely essential for you to leave. People quarantined to their homes, stuck, unable to get a breath of fresh air it seemed. But it was necessary to keep the city from becoming a warzone.

Bucky made his way towards the shared kitchen and common room as he started hearing the yelling.

“Are you crazy? There is no way the answer to that question is video games!” Sharon yelled, getting up from her seat to show her dominance.

“It says right here on the card, video games.” The last two words were given emphasis by Sam who pointed at the card in his hand.

“Give it to me!” Sam willed back as Sharon lunged towards him. “Give me the card, Wilson.”

“Damn, someone is a sore loser.” The Falcon, well, now Captain, teased his playmate.

“I’m not a sore loser! You’re making up answers!” She lunged again, grabbing the card. “What?!” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the look of defeat on the special agent’s face.

“Oh, like you would have known this answer yourself.” She points her frustration him. He held his hands up.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Would you believe that the answer to ‘Which form of entertainment was deemed free speech after the 2011 Supreme Court case Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Association?’ was video games?” Her face turned from frustrated to desperate, trying to reassure herself of her intelligence. Bucky turned back to the coffee he had just poured for himself and stirred in the sugar.

“Honestly, Shar, nothing surprises me anymore. Would I have guessed it? No. Does it surprise me? Also no.”

“Ha!” Sam smirked in victory and Sharon groaned, turning back to the game.

Bucky surveyed the room, looking over the two and their game, then over to their makeshift command center. Sam had told him that this was a hideout they had used after the accords to stay contacted to those who didn’t see Sam, Steve and Natasha as criminals. This had been there home then just like it was his home now. Only one member of their team was missing.

“Hey, where is she?” He didn’t have to say her name, they all knew who Bucky would be asking for.

“Steve’s old room.” Sharon barely lifted her head.

“It’s been a rough day for her.” Sam made eye contact with him. They were all aware of how this virus and quarantine was affecting you. After coming back from the Snap, learning of the death of both Tony and Natasha, then finding out that Steve had done back in time to live his life with Peggy, you were desperate to find some sense of normal. This virus had thrown a wrench in those plans.

He nodded to the two and made his way up the stairs to the only room on the top floor of the house. He could hear the new anchors and experts debating and giving more updates on the situation that was going on outside of the walls.

“Many people turn off the news as a way to relax. You should try it sometime.” She smiled and looked back at him.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, I know.” He matched the expression on her face. It was insane the number of ways she was similar to Steve. The same sense to fight for what’s right, stubborn as hell and willing to do what she needed for those she loved. Maybe that’s why he had always felt a sense of companionship to the girl.

“People are dying, Buck.” She broke the comfortable silence after looking back to the tv. “They’re dying and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“We can stay inside.” He tried to lighten the mood. A small chuckle left her throat.

“I’m not used to feeling so useless.” He watched her as the number of infected scrolled across the screen. A sea of red indicating every area affected by the disease so far.

“Have you called your mom today?” Hopefully focusing on something she could do would help.

“Yeah. She said she’s trying to sew as many masks as she can in a day. She also said it’s a good thing it’s happening in the spring time and not the winter. She gets to kick dad out to do yardwork instead of strangling him and pulling all her hair out.” She turned back to him with an amused look on her face. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“You definitely get your sassiness from her.”

“You call Pepper?” Her face turned back to concern before he moved to sit next to her.

“Her and Morgan are upstate at the cabin. Said they have enough food for a few weeks but would reach out if they need anymore. Morgan has decided to take up beading. Pep assured me that we would all get beautiful jewelry made by Morgan for Christmas.” She giggled again.

“And I will wear it with pride.” Her face lit up talking about the young Stark. Tony wasn’t the only one Morgan had given hope to. “Buck, what are we going to do?”

He sat with her for a minute, not quite knowing what to say. His arm found its way around her arm ad he pulled her closer to him, her resting her head on his shoulder.

“We’re gonna take it one day at a time. Fill each day with as much as we can and then worry about the next day. It’s all we can do.”

She looked up at him from his shoulder. His hair was short again, like in the pictures Steve had shown her. His stubble was growing in from days of not caring to shave. When you’re locked in the same place with the same people, you stop your standard routine.

“Do you always know what to say?” He looked down at her and couldn’t help the grin that creeped onto his face.

“Believe it or not, that was actually the advice my mom used to say to Rebecca and I every night in 1930 Got our family through the Depression.” She nodded.

“Well, your mom gave good advice.”

“She was a smart woman.”

“Had to be. She raised you and Steve.” There was the sass again.

“We’re gonna be ok, Doll. This is just a moment in time. Things get better. Besides, we have each other. Also, we have the other idiots in the common room who are currently fighting over Trivial Pursuit questions.” She chuckled again and tucked her head back onto his shoulder.

“One day at a time.” She repeated before silence filled the room again.

They watched the news as the sun began to fall between the buildings. It was a scary time outside. People were fighting about the best way to take action to combat the virus and others were stockpiling food making it difficult for others to get the essentials.

After a while, he finally heard her breathing settle and felt her heartbeat slow. He continued to hold her after she had fallen asleep, it had been a few days since she had gotten an actual decent night’s sleep.

He looked down at her peaceful face and knew that they would get through this, it was only a matter of waiting out the crazy. It was hard to the light at the end of the tunnel but he knew it was there. He had made it through too much to have this be the end. All he had to do now was help you and the other two make it to the next day. That’s all he could do.

The world was on lock down.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #sebastian stan #Sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan fanfic

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pocket-infinity · 5 years ago

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I’m beginning to notice a pattern with my posts...

At this point I could honestly set my watch by how often I make stuff like this; like, I’m 90% sure that all of my original content involves The Only Option by @corruptapostasy (will I always say the full thing? yes. is it partially an excuse to tag the author so you know who they are? yes). Which, I mean, hey, I’m not complaining. But here we go again, once more, for the… 9th? 9th time. Spoilers, of course; read it, of course.

Look, I can’t run over the same things forever (no matter how much I adore them), so I’m not going to go on about how good and nice and otherwise excited and positive this makes me feel, and, of course, one can only say thank you so many times before it becomes devoid of all meaning. But what I am going to go on about is how much I love the expansion of everything — well, that’s not quite the word I’m looking for, but you’ll see soon enough. That’s enough vague rambling about nothing, let’s get into what I mean to say. I love the way this… is. I’m trying to keep my thoughts organized, and I know that’s the most broad statement, but it’s true. I genuinely adore everything in here, but to get my point across, let’s use my boy Lurien as an example. I mean, at first he just seems like a different permutation of Lurien, like something we’ve all seen too many times before; that lasts less than one chapter. By the second time we see him, we get to see the pain and worry this is causing him. His mind always turns to the suffering that’s going on; he always worries about what’s coming next. The thought of Hallownest ending brings him to tears immediately, and then everything goes straight to hell when the archives flood, because of course they do. That’s not what interests me about him, though; it’s the fact that he always manages to pick himself up and keep going again and again. I mean, it is fairly obvious that he’s not having the grandest time with the Radiances return (he seems to be the second most stressed about it, and I’ll explain in a moment), but he doesn’t let that stop him. His focus on the future kind of tips both ways; it lets him plan things and be where he needs to be when he needs to be there, but at the same time he seems kind of caught up in it. Now, as I was saying earlier, he’s the second most stressed, not far behind The Pale King, I don’t figure. And when he finally does have a face-to-face encounter with her, it becomes so obvious why. He was forced into slavery (whether from birth or not I have no idea), and the moment he stepped out of line, the Radiance scarred him for the rest of his life (both literally and figuratively). Not to mention that he’s more-or-less in a situation where he’s stuck desperately in love with someone who he will never have. The Radiance plays each and every one of these cards against him, being an absolute monster as she laughs and taunts and calls her work with the scars “beautiful” and makes constant sadistic remarks. She doesn’t even need to threaten him; both of them just know that she’s going to try to kill him. But Luren doesn’t break; I mean, he’s visibly shaking, and there’s obvious, intense trauma here (why wouldn’t there be?), but he holds it together and proves her wrong before going off to deck the Soul Master. Now, that was a long rant about Lurien, one character, not even the protagonist. All of the events I just described occur in a total of 3 different chapters. There are 8 out, currently. So I don’t think I need to begin to describe the magnitude of development that people like The Pale King or The White Lady or Grimm go through. Hell, chapters 5 and 8 have two of my favorite scenes because when PK finally does run out of patience, so much is revealed, and that’s on top of the development happening more subtly all the damn time. And with Grimm, too, everything changes and develops as time goes on, but I don’t want to drop a post about a quarter as long as the fic itself describing how much I love each character and their arcs and development. Oh, and did I mention that a quarter of the length of the pic would be just under 50,000 words? Because that’s worth noting. And that’s the central characters I’ve been focusing on, I haven’t even begun to mention things like the new lore or the magnificence with which the 5 knights are written or the goddamn Seer whom we adore in this household or Enkay or the Fundament or anything else! So let’s get on that, huh?

The Lore is something magnificent. We’ve got rituals; we’ve got backstory; we’ve got ancient eldritch gods; we’ve got the way gods are made; we’ve got million-year-old history; we’ve got fucking everything we could want and then some at our disposal, y’all. Everyone’s magic is different, the Pale King’s backstory is so wild and twisting that holy hell I’d end up going half-insane with excitement if I tried to talk about it (but hey that’s already happening so). But if The Pale King is the gold standard for lore, then Grimm is a fucking diamond mine. There is Too Goddamn Much for me to cover here, but let’s get some things listed: past incarnations, regaining memories, inter-incarnation relationships, conspiracy and cloak and dagger between those incarnations and certain external individuals (*cough* Pale King *cough*). There’s so much, and I love it — oh my god I never mentioned god splitting. It is a remarkably fresh, creative, and incredible concept that I just haven’t seen before. Granted, it could be from some real-world mythology I’m unfamiliar with, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never seen it done, and damn is it done well. It’s essentially— well— okay just go read it I can’t do it justice with my words because, although it would probably be easily possible for me to actually describe what’s happening, it has a certain level of gravity and intrigue, or at least to me it does. Not to mention that context makes everything better as far as stories are concerned.

I could go on for days (I already have and will continue to do so), and I probably will end up updating this at some point with the other things I so adore, but for now I’m going to leave it here. I sincerely cannot recommend anything higher than this, so please, do yourself a favor and read it.

#the only option #hollow knight

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dimensionwriter · 6 years ago

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Awkward Shade of Green

"Congrats on that touch down, Friday," someone congratulated the star next to you. You rolled your eyes at the statement as you continue to get ready for class. You really had a deep hatred for this class.

The one who was responsible for you hating this class, was none other than Zerx. He was the most popular guy in your class and the best football player your school has ever seen. Maybe it was because he wasn't a human, he's an orc.

You don't hate him because he's a different species. No, what bother you is how he's so egotistical and think he's some type of God. It pisses you off.

"You know it wasn't that hard," he said leaning on his elbow which was covering up half of your desk. His arm was very muscular and had a nice shady of green. His long black hair was filled with random braids and red beads decorating it, and it was all over your desk.

Today, he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and a tattoo on his right shoulder that was of a swirling sun.

You grabbed the legs of you desk and tried to scoot away, but it didn't bulge. His arm was holding your desk down, resulting in you going nowhere.

You let out a low growl as you tugged harder on your desk, but it seem the pressure had increased. This jerk was doing this on purpose.

You looked at the side of his head to see had this giant smirk on his face that he was trying to hide with giant hand.

You were so tempted to grab him by his tusk and slam his big head into the desk. But at the same time, he didn't deserve your anger. He was just trying to get a reaction out of you. He always was.

You let out a sigh and let your hand drop from the cool rods connected to your desk.

Zerx's head turned slightly towards you and saw his glance at you with his dark blue eyes.

"You trying to move, honey," he said with that giant sadstic smirk on his face. You silently cringe at that nickname he decided to give you. You didn't say anything and just stared ahead and hope he wouldn't do anything.

He lifted his arm off your desk and you felt relief flood your body. Well, until you were lifted off the ground, you and your desk to be exact.

You gripped the edges of you desk as you looked to you left in a state of panic and fury. Zerx was in his seat, but was lifting up the back of your chair causing his huge muscles to bulge.

"Put me down," you growled glaring at him. He tilted the desk back causing you to let out a tiny squeal. You gripped the desk harder as you tried to refind the balance and not follow gravity back. The class started to giggle at your discomfort.

"But I thought I saw you trying to move your desk. Sorry, I couldn't feel your weak attempt under my strong arms," he said giving you a giant evil smile showing off the gold band he had around his right tusk.

"Well if you had half of a brain, you would understand that I would never want help from you," you growled giving him a glare full of hatred. His smile died slowly until his face remain blank.

He set you down on the ground and you released your grip from the desk. Your palm hurted from how hard you were gripping the desk. You glanced at your palm to see deep red lines on your palm.

You bit you lip from attacking him. You truly hated Zerx with your entire being. Why does he feel like it's his life purpose to make your life hell?

You walked into the cafeteria with your best friend, Anx. She was two feet taller than you and was covered in huge muscles. Her skin was a dark green that got lighter on her face. Her hair was shaven at the sides and the top was in a big braid going back. Her tusk went all the way to her nose, where there a gold piercing going inbetween her nostril.

"He's such a jerk," you complain to her as you took giant steps to keep up with her giant legs. She let out a small laugh as she looked down at you with her blue eyes.

"He can be," she mumbled lifting her arm so they were resting on her head. Her muscles bulge a little causing a couple of people to swoon. This is what you get for having an attractive orc friend.

"I dont understand how you two are related. You're a delight to be around. He makes me want to stab him. Was there some sort of genetic malfunction with him?" You rambled angrily grabbing at her black sleevless shirt. Her held tilted back and a hard laugh came from her.

"I ask the same question every day. He is still oblivious on a lot of things," she muttered mostly to herself. You nodded along as you continue to walk.

"But he's not that bad," she mumbled and threw a side glance at you. Your head snapped at her as you started worrying about her sanity.

"He wasn't that bad in the beginning, quiet actually. Then he turned into a complete villain. He squished an apple I was going to have for lunch. He ripped a book I was reading in half. He likes make my life a hell," you explain angrily while jumping a little to get closer to her height, but it didnt work.

"Calm down. I was joking," she said putting her big hand ontop of your head. You let out a sigh and walked to your table.

"But you shouldn't be this worked up over him. Are you sure there's not another reason for this craze emotion,?" She asked lifting up her thick eyebrow as she looked at you. Your eyebrows dropped at her accusation.

"If you think I have romantic feeling for Zerx, then you are wrong. And if for some unholy reason, I do. Instantly put me in an insane asylum and throw away the key." Anx shook her head at you while she pulled out her phone. She let out a low chuckle as she looked up at you with a crazy glint in your eye.

"What if Zerx likes you and is just trying to impress you?" She said laughing halfway through. You stood up and threw her a warning glare. There was no way that was possible.

You and Anx walked out of the cafteria after finishing lunch, which had no conversation that include the forbidden name. Anx kept checking her phone alot and had a slight worried look on her face. She glanced to the right at the lockers before her face lit up and she looked at you.

"Hey, can I put my stuff in your locker? Mines on the other side of the school and my class is right there," Anx begged making her eyes appear wider and poking out her bottom lip. Ah, the classic puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," you said walking over to your locker. This wasn't the only time Anx has used your locker, infact the two of you usually share eachother lockers.

You got there and instantly noticed the huge dents in it. It wasn't even close and was moving slightly. Who in their right mind would break into a locker?

You grabbed the squished handle and slowly swung it open. You were met with a locker full of roses of all colors. A heavenly scent slowly wafted towards causing a smile to make its way to your face.

"Looks like you have a secret admirer," Anx joked while bumping your shoulder gently. A small crowd was now forming around you. You reached in and grabbed all the flowers, which was an arm full.

"They are so beautiful," you said squeezing them gently. You lean forward to get in another whiff when you noticed something moving. You lean forward ro get a closer look.

You let out an ear piercing scream as you dropped the flowers. A huge poisionous spider continue to crawl over the flowers without a single care in the world. A shiver went down you spine as you thought of how close you were to that thing.

You noticed a folded card sitting at the bottom of the pile. You bent down quickly and picked it up, trying your best to avoid the spider.

Bet you would 'enjoy' these

~Zerx

You threw the paper down and started stomping on the note and the stupid flowers. "I hate Zerx. I hate him so much," you growled turning to your best friend which had her face in her palm. You turn away from her and kicked the flowers before stomping off the class. You have never hated a person more in you life than at this moment.

You walked out the classroom to go the bathroom to wash your hands. You still felt disgusting after using hand sanitizer in the classroom, so you simply asked the teacher to go to the bathroom with the hope of getting this feeling off you.

"Are you an idiot?" Some growled before a loud thump echoed behind. You recognized the voice as Anx. What was she up to?

You silently walked quickly to where the voice came from, which led you to a secluded corner. You stayed out of sight, but still listen.

"I'm sorry." You instantly recognized that as Zerx's voice and felt your anger boil. "You said she would like some flowers. I don't understand how it went wrong."

"You were suppose to make sure the dang flowers didn't have any deadly spiders that could kill a human with one bite. And what was with the cryptic note?" The rumbling of paper met your ears and you heard an deep ahh.

"Those aren't quotation marks. The pen kept dying, so I scraped it against the paper a little. I guess I understand how that went wrong. But this morning, I made her angry. The internet said girls like to be called small and to have a strong boyfriend around when they are weak. But it just pissed her off, instead of making her like me," Zerx said angrily with a slight growl of confusion in his voice. You felt your stomach drop a little.

"Humans are different from us. And stop looking at the internet for help on your failing love life," Anx said with an annoyed tone.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm desperate to have her at least tolerate me. I thought at first if I tried to show off my strength, it would work, but it had the opposite affect. Then I try to go by human standards and they backfire. What am I suppose to do? At this point, she may end up marrying you before she even glances my way." You hate how your stomach knotted at his sad tone. He sounded like a dying solider with no hope.

"Have you tried just asking her out?" You said wincing at how loud your voice was. Why did you speak. This was suppose to be a private talk.

The ground shook as heavy pounding slowly got closer to you. It stopped and you looked up to see Zerx standing in front of you with a huge blush on his cheeks.

"I-I- How much did you hear?" He roared getting closer to you with a panic look in his eyes. You shrunk a little feeling yourself panicking. Maybe you made a mistake.

"Ignore him. He's embarrassed and panicking that you just found out about his crush on you," Anx said leaning on the corner of the wall to your left. Zerx gave a menacing growl at her, but it stopped when he looked at you.

"So," you said gaining a little courage to actually talk. " All that annoying stuff you were doing was to impress me?" Anx started to giggle as her blue eyes stared at her blushing brother.

"It wasn't meant to be annoying. You were suppose to be impressed," he muttered not looking you in the eye. You cocked you head to side as you watched this new side of Zerx.

"Well, it was. But I can't blame you for having no ideas on how to be romatic or seduce someone," you said causing him to shrink down some. You cringed at how blunt that sounded. You were so use to trying to back talk you that it was second nature. "But you still haven't tried to asking me out."

"Wait, what?" He said looking startled. Anx let out a sigh and walked over to her brother.

"Hey, you wanna come to the game on Friday and get icecream after," Anx said moving Zerx's bottom lip to make it seem that he was talking. "Wow, Zerx that's a great idea."

Zerx slapped her hand away and glared at her. You let out a tiny giggle at the sibling reaction. Zerx glanced over at you with hope swimming in his eyes.

"I may be free Friday," you said with a small smirk. He let out this deep happy growl before he launched at you. You were up in the air being held by his big strong arms, before you could even stop it.

"Put me down you dork," you giggled slapping his thick arm. He gave you this big wide grin that had the gold band on his tusk shining. He spun you around causing you to grip harder onto him.

"I've waited this long to hold you in my arms. What makes you think I'm gonna let go now," he said squeezing tighter with his blue eyes shining from the school light. Maybe Anx was going to have to take you to that insane asylum after all.

Part 2

#orc character #orc x reader #orc x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster #adorable #adoration #aesthetic #oc x reader #long reads #reading #exophilia #monster romance #monster boy #monster girl #monster love #monsta x #monsters

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borisbubbles · 5 years ago

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Eurovision 2010s: 55 - 51

55. fusedmarc - “Rain of revolution” Lithuania 2017

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[2017 Review here]

Who else? My love for Fusedmarc has become a BorisBubbles.tumblr calling card and come on, there’s no way I wouldn’t drag them this high. Two years later and I still cackle thoughout this song with the exact same vigor as I did two years back. 🤭 Now, I do understand that “Rain of revolution” is one of the worst 10 songs in this decade and... well, yeah, (yeah, yeahyeah NRG yeah yeah yeeeeaaah) that’s the entire point. If we lived in the universe where ESC entries can be compared to motion pictures, in which “Waterloo” is Citizen Kane and “A matter of time” is fucking Titanic, then “Rain of revolution” is The Room, for Viktorija and Denis posses the exact same endearing insanity, inscrutability and genius as Tommy Wiseau. And honestly, this song should be shown in movie theatres because it turned inteptitude into an artform. Reminder that fusedmarc were the only 2017 act to refuse PBC:UA’s offer for stand-in rehearsals because they were afraid Ukraine would fail at getting their ~vision across~ 😂😍

Reminder that this resulted in technical errors DURING THEIR LIVE PERFORMANCE. 😍

Reminder that they song is punctuated by endless YEAH YEAH YEAHs 😍

Reminder that they only won Eurovizijos Atranka because a diehard vegan facebook group found out that fusedmarc were *also* vegan and urged their lithuanian members to vote for them, allowing them to beat Aiste 😍

Reminder that Victorija styles herself after Little My from the Moomins 😍

Reminder that her diction is equivalent or worse to the English spoken in the Nekci Menij show. 😍

Reminder that Viktorija’s nail game is more on fleek than yours.😍

Remember that LIFE LIKE ROLLERCOASTEN, SPEENING MI ORAWND 😍

It’s all about MICKIN a start and let their light shine FRUUU U. So DANCE to the RIVEM of ur SOLE, chant ‘LIETUVA’ like that random woman does at the start of the performance (IS THIS THE SAME LITHUANIAN FRUMP who went all out during Belarus, because if so I may have found a soul sibling), end the reign of RevoLucian and look for the reason why hamster on the road. Life is like a rollercoaster and live it to the fullest.

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54. Tom Dice - “Me and my guitar” Belgium 2010

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I’ll be honest: As a Belgian, Tom Dice has a lot of emotional value for me. The year was 2010: Belgium hadn’t qualified for a final for six straight contests, sending failure after failure. Neither VRT had, until that point, shown any idea behind what they were doing, consistently picking the wrong songs during the national selections. RTBF meanwhile, didn’t even try, sending novelty acts they knew would never qualify. So, imagine being Belgian and seeing Tom get announced, fedora perched askew on his head, with a tepid guitar ballad and you’re like “oh MORE of the same, well bye 😬", except SURPRISE Tom is naturally charismatic and has a great voice and turns his by all standards generic song into an experience.

It’s the Todevska principle: Tom OUTSOLD. Is he the best entrant? No. Like many ESC alumni he entered the contest with his least good song. Is he the most exciting entrant? Far from it.

However isn’t it fair to state that we, Eurovision fans from Europe, have always had at least one dark age in our history with the contest? Periods where our supposed “best” wasn’t good enough? Periods where we struggled being proud of whom we were and where we came from. For someone to come out of nowhere and put you country back on the map after years of adversity, be it an ABBA, or a Bobbysocks! or a Tamara Todevksa, that makes for a magical rebirthing experience. Tom Dice is Belgium’s and I am #Proud of it.

oh and also the live owns dwi. 🤭

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53. Aram MP3 - “Not alone” Armenia 2014

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WOD EEF EETS ONLE WAN KEES!

Long before ASMR became a popular thing, Armenia send an entry that is only enjoyable if the listeners plugs in their best airphones, clears their heads and lets the music sweep over them.

And I mean, “Not alone” may be a mere Build-Up-To-An-Epic-Climax Ballad, but dear gods is it effective. You see, “Not alone” starts off quiet and solemn, a gentle piano tapping, punctuated with small drums... and then the orchestra comes in and builds and builds and builds until

at long last

WOD EEF EETS ONLE WAN KEES

DAT TERNS AL SIEDS INTO TRIZZ

DE STRONGEIST VIND INTO BRIZZ

OHPEN ALL DORS WIDNO KEEZ

and fuck, take my lifetime supply of hairpieces because that shit is awesome? The only real downside Aram has for me is that he requires a lot of set up: you really NEED to be in The Proper Mood to enjoy “Not alone” in its fullest glory. But when you are willing to take that plunge and be swept away by its rawness, you’re in for three minutes of catharsis. PS: Aram performing it drunk at the finale 😍

being awesome AND being incompetent in two different performances, what a kraljic <3

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52. Ott Lepland - “Kuula” Estonia 2012

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There are two reasons why “Kuula” ranks this high and neither is Estonia bias :o

The first is, obviously, the context. I’ve spoken widely about how terrible Baku2012 sounded as a whole, and how disappointment everything was. Well, “Kuula” was not only acoustically sound, it is actually the ONLY song that I was pleasantly surprised me. I had no opinion whatsoever going into Baku and he roses to my #3 of the year.

Which brings me to the second reason why “Kuula” ranks this highly. It is just... really fucking good, lol?

With powerballads such as these it’s REALLY important to suck the listener/viewer in and the combination of Ott’s great voice, adorable personality, the magical language that is Estonian (which also, conveniently, allows me forget “Kuula” has Deep Meaning and Touching Lyrics 🤗), and a great organic build up captivate me immensely. Even though songs like “Kuula” are far from what I normally love, it never fails to sustain me, proving tho every great rule they’re always a greater exception. 🤗

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51. Anouk - “Birds” the Netherlands 2013

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~She slayed it from the outside~

Oh my god Anouk was such a rollercoaster. From my end, I was OBSESSED with Anouk from the second she was announced (as the first participant of 2013!!!) because hell yeah I LOVED “Nobody’s wife” and “Girl” and this expected ~High Voltage Rock OWNAGE~

What we got instead was... something just as great, if completely different. “Birds” may not have been an in-your-face rock song, but it never-the-less was a beautiful, mesmerising, unpretentious avant garde ballad. “If being myself is what I do wrong, then I would rather not be right” sticks out as an absolutely brilliant line that I often use in my daily writing. 😍 I LOVE how Anouk performs btw, on the satellite stage, in a sea of f(l)ags:

While also delivering distinctly Dutch diction. 😍 Paraphrasing:

“Burds follin daun de roeftops, aut of de skai laik reendraups, no eir, no praad.”

Like ^ pronounced that in dutch and you literally have Anouk’s diction nailed. 😍

“Birds” was basically the “Me and my guitar” of the Netherlands, but there’s also the added bonus of Anouk herself. You see, in contrast to her song’s ethereal demeanor, Anouk is KNOWN to be a huuuuuge abrasive confrontal bitch with zero filter 😍 and fragments of her diva personality definitely oozed into Malmö as well, from nonchalantly recording a gritty webcam vid for official channel’s preview vid (😍) to flippantly pulling a hood over her face each time a journalist wanted to interview her. It ended, how else, with Anouk writing “Walk along” for Trijntje, and then cussing her out for being frumpy / talentless / sucking at life when she NQ’d. When Trijntje tried pinning them blame Anouk for writing her a bad song on purpose (lmfao), Anouk retaliated by stealing Trijnje’s coach seat on The Voice NL. PETTY QUEEN <3 We truly aren’t worthy of this irl Cersei Lannister. 😍

Also um, I just realized I ranked those two on opposide ends of the Dutch chart:

The 2010s marked wonderful renaissance for the Netherlands. I’m never ~OBSESSED~ with their entries, but they are a very solid Eurovision country, reliably delivering good music. I think they’re also the country that has the lowest amount of godawful entries on average (literally 2. Fuck you, “Without you” and “Amsterdam”.). If anyone deserved to win based on track record alone it was definitely them.

#Eurovision #Eurovision Song Contest #Lithuania #Fusedmarc #rain of revolution #Belgium #Tom Dice #me and my guitar #Armenia #Aram MP3 #Not alone #Estonia #Ott Lepland #Kuula #Anouk #Birds #Netherlands

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quiveringbunny · 6 years ago

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You Can’t Afford Him (Olicity fanfic, rated M) - Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2 of my fic.

If you missed Chapter 1, you can read it here on Tumblr.

If you prefer reading on Ao3, here are links to:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“Archer, meet Celeste Chen, who has impeccable taste in shoes and her fellow, Myles Crofton.”

Without missing a beat, Myles piped up. “I’m told she also has impeccable taste in boyfriends.”

At the utterance of their target’s name, Oliver had tightened his grip around Felicity, just enough for her to notice. Then he offered his hand to the arm’s dealer with a perfect playboy grin.

“Good to meet you, Myles.”

Myles offered the universal head nod that could have meant yes or the feeling is mutual. As with so many wealthy people, much was left to be interpreted.

“Panda told us you’ve had some bother with your luggage.”

“That’s right,” Oliver sighed. “Can you believe it?” He tried to seem put upon without coming off a complete dick so early in their interaction. If these two didn’t like him, they might shut down the obvious opening that Felicity had created for them.

“And since our room isn’t ready,” Felicity added, leaning into Oliver’s sizable shoulder, “it seemed like the good idea to spread a little cryptocurrency around the shops, although I guess since it’s all virtual it doesn’t actually spread.”

Oliver held his breath. He loved Felicity’s rambles, but he didn’t know if they translated well in other cultures. His worries dissipated when Celeste chuckled and Myles cracked a smile. He watched the woman tug on her man’s sleeve and then give him a questioning look. Myles took note, shook his head, then wordlessly wandered away, raising his phone to his ear. Oliver was curious, but forced himself to remain partially attentive to the half of the couple that remained. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Myles. On his first call, everything seemed fine. Then, it was as though he was talking to someone else because he looked agitated. He didn’t raise his voice so they could hear, but he was seething for a moment.

“Archer, I know this is Panda’s first visit to Macau. What about you?”

“I have a recollection of passing through once with my family, but it was decades ago. So much has changed since then. It’s incredible now. The architecture. The energy. The beautiful women,” he added pointedly. Felicity raised an eyebrow at him, at which he became very serious. “And by that I mean that Panda wasn’t here, so it was much less attractive then.”

The two of them studied each other for a moment, then Felicity playfully prodded Oliver’s ribs.

“Good recovery there,” Celeste volunteered.

“Yes,” Felicity smirked. “My hero.”

“Do you two have any dinner plans tonight? We would love for you to join us.”

Felicity looked up at Oliver, her eyes twinkling. They needed to play it cool, but she really wanted to pump her fist in the air at this moment.

“We don’t have plans tonight, do we Baby?” Felicity looked up at Oliver with a warm smile.

“I think we do now, PandaBear. That is very kind of you, Celeste,” Oliver offered the woman a genuine smile. “I hope I won’t be overdressed,” he added, looking down at his tuxedo.

“Nonsense,” Celeste replied. “It’s perfect.” She then directed her gaze to Felicity. "You have excellent taste, Panda."

Oliver felt Felicity’s hand slip between his shirt and his jacket and rest near his heart. He hoped she couldn’t feel it beating more violently than usual. What had gotten into her? The touching? Apparently Pandora Fleece was a lot more handsy than Felicity Smoak. He hadn’t even begun to process their earlier kiss. And what was that about Felicity having good taste? Before Oliver could question or protest, he was interrupted.

“That would be lovely,” Felicity responded to the other woman while softly running her fingers against Oliver’s expensive shirt-covered abs.

Just then, Myles returned and took the hand of his beautiful Celeste. He wasn’t the only one who could be affectionate. Of course, the Americans were always a little too obvious about it in public. Celeste studied his face for information.

“I have had a word with the desk. Just go see the concierge. He will be looking after you personally.”

Felicity and Oliver expressed enthusiasm for their host’s kindness.

“No problem,” Myles replied. “One of the benefits of owning the place.”

“Oh, wow.” Felicity feigned surprise. She could not let on how much they already knew about the man. They were, after all, just tourists.

“Thank you,” Oliver added, “that’s very kind.” He offered his hand again with a sincere smile. Myles took it.

“Don’t mention it.” Myles turned to Celeste. “Darling, I am now running late for a meeting and I’m told the art consultant is upstairs. I’m afraid we are going to have to try this shirt thing another day.”

“Of course,” Celeste sighed. “Panda, I’ll have dinner details sent to your room.”

“That’s wonderful, Celeste. We are looking forward to it.”

xoxoxo

Once they had settled the details with Javier regarding the final purchase, arrangements were made to have Archer’s clothing sent up to their room via the hotel concierge. Throughout the transaction, the two generally avoided eye contact. There was much to be said, much to explain, but it had to wait until they were in private.

The two proceeded to the concierge station near the front desk and were greeted enthusiastically by a middle-aged woman named Kim who had jet black hair with a shock of white on one side. She smiled warmly and apologized far too much for inconveniencing them. When she signaled for them to follow her away from the desk, they realized she was going to escort them to their room herself. The two exchanged curious looks as they proceeded up an elevator to the 25th floor. The woman finally led them down a gold and red-hued hallway to a very opulent door. She swiped a metal card and it unlocked with a decisive click.

It was a suite. Not a junior suite like at the Marriott with a fold out couch, a sad desk in the corner and a couple of bottles of water. It was a full-fledged apartment, suitable for hosting visiting dignitaries. If they were sultans. The space had a dark Arabian Nights kind of vibe. Felicity found herself gawping, legit gawping, as the woman provided the grand tour of the rooms and amenities. Huge sitting area with tall windows. Massive bedroom with gigantic bed. Check. Large sitting room with fainting couch off the bedroom. Crazy fancy bathroom with a huge soaking tub and a rain shower. Check. Second fancy bathroom. Check. Pillows. Pillows. Pillows. Everywhere. Flowers. A chilled bottle of wine placed in a cooler on a wet bar. It just became more ridiculous with every moment.

“Excuse me, Kim. This is truly amazing, but it definitely isn’t what I reserved.”

“Yes, Miss Fleece. Mr. Crofton would like you to stay in this suite. It is one he sets aside for his and Miss Celeste’s friends.”

“I am speechless,” spoke the young woman, who had eyeballed some of the finest accommodations in Las Vegas when she was young.

“Thank you,” Oliver volunteered, seeing the woman to the door. “This was a very generous gesture. We are so very grateful.”

The woman explained that she would have their purchases brought up when they were available and would call with details of their dinner plans. Oliver thanked the woman again and was grateful that tipping was not standard practice in Macau for this particular service, as he didn’t have any cash in his pocket.

Once the woman was gone, Oliver kept staring at the closed door, collecting his thoughts before he turned to see Felicity sitting tentatively on an opulent couch, her chin resting on her hands. He considered his next move carefully and then acted swiftly, as he always did.

Oliver moved across the carpet and sat right down next to Felicity, invading her personal space. His warm body and even hotter breath tickled her ear and she gasped. The look in his eye was curious, even to her, and she had seen all of his expressions - or so she thought. It was like he wanted her. But that couldn’t be right. Just as she became uncomfortable with his gaze and attempted to shift away, Oliver grabbed her arm and whispered into her ear.

“Can you sweep the rooms without anyone knowing?”

Felicity let out a relieved and in no small way disappointed sign and nodded. Soon, she was grabbing her phone from her bag and touring their digs again, chatting mindlessly about the decor and the amenities, all the while checking for listening devices and cameras. It was unlikely their space would be monitored, but Oliver was right. It was good to check. After her circuit, she ended up in front of her partner, who was standing at a bank of windows, looking out on the Macau harbor in the afternoon sun.

“It’s clean,” she announced, brightly.

“Good.” His voice was flat. Tired, perhaps. But there was more to it. “I’m going to rest.”

With that, Oliver walked into the bedroom, past the bed and into the sitting room. He disappeared behind a closed door, leaving Felicity alone and unsure of what had just happened.

xoxoxo

Felicity knew something was off with Oliver. He hadn’t said more than a few words to her after they left Dolce & Gabbana and then he seemed to want to ditch her the moment they got into their insanely beautiful suite after looking at her with expressions she couldn’t decipher. Now he was asleep. An afternoon nap also seemed uncharacteristic of Oliver, but they had been traveling for 24 hours and it wasn’t unreasonable to imagine he could be wiped out.

Not knowing what to do next, Felicity first jumped on her tablet and made the necessary changes to their backstory support on the web to accommodate a quick alteration in cover stories, just in case. She also did some snooping on Celeste and soon discovered she was a very sought-after debutante in Hong Kong before coupling up with Myles Crofton.

A knock at the door signaled the delivery of numerous bags from the dress shop and D&G. Felicity had the stewards litter the living area with them.

Eventually, the lure of the amazing soaking tub in the master bath became a distraction. Felicity gathered up her purchases and took up residence in what amounted to a marble temple. She helped herself to some of the high-end bath products that were provided on the counter, slipped into the tub, and finally felt herself decompressing from the many sharp turns of the day. But every time her mind started to clear, her thoughts drifted to that kiss.

What had possessed her to do it? Was an epic lip-lock really necessary to sell their cover at that point? Or had she done it to mark her territory — as if Oliver Queen was hers? Felicity debated with herself about it for quite some time and then decided that, yes, the smooch had quickly and definitively established the credibility of their cover to the target of their mission and created greater potential for mission success since it led to an invitation to socially engage with said target.

Yep. That’s exactly what it did. The fact that Oliver’s lips felt so hot and strong against hers, while remaining curiously soft was irrelevant, as was the way he smelled — woodsy and masculine — even though he had been cooped up on a plane for a day. She could almost still feel it reverberating on her mouth. Imagine what an actual kiss with Oliver Queen might feel like, if a fake one had her knees buckling in a designer clothing store! She couldn’t bring herself to entertain that thought. Oliver wouldn’t kiss someone he could care about. She had to remember that.

Felicity also needed to remind herself that allowing her feelings to take over could be dangerous for her heart. And they were already surrounded by physical danger just being there in Hong Kong, thousands of miles away from home, trying to wheedle their way into the private business of a man who made an impressive fortune buying and selling devastating weapons. That man might have even procured Mirakuru and the potential to raise and army of nearly invincible killers.

This was simply no time to moon over her infuriating and attractive partner. There it was - the crux of her situation, clear as day. Lives could be at stake, Smoak. Pandora Fleece and Archer Middleton were just the masks they needed to wear to be heroes now.

After a solid soak, Felicity emerged from the water with a clearer head. She was back on mission now. Hyper-focused. Once she had finished fretting, she spent twenty solid minutes considering various scenarios that could transpire with Myles Crofton and devising ways to use them to gain access to his sensitive data. Ew. That sounded a little sexual. Her mind always found the worst ways to say something.

Her first task was to fix her hair. She couldn’t decide how she would wear it for the evening. Up? Down? Straight? Curly. Being a lady uncover was not easy. She stared at herself in the mirror and grimaced.

Felicity distracted herself from the dilemma by rooting through the luxuriously-packed boutique bags and pulling out items she had sourced hours before. This included a flat box. Inside, there were three pairs of red satin panties nestled inside cream-colored tissue paper. Three. Huh. She had asked for just two pairs, but maybe Margot was feeling generous.

At first she snorted at them. Silly scraps of fabric. But then she reconsidered. Maybe they would be good luck. She could definitely use some if they were going to be successful on their mission. Who was she to turn down potential good fortune?

Relenting, she soon discovered she had underestimated them. Those ridiculous panties. How they would make her feel when she slipped them on. But the satin was perfect and rubbed deliciously against her skin. Looking at herself in the mirror…admiring herself…Felicity felt sexy and powerful. She didn’t know she needed this. God bless Margot.

Still not sure what to do with her hair, she decided to do her makeup next. But she would need to retrieve her purse from the living area sofa first. She enveloped herself in a plush white terry robe emblazoned with the logo of the hotel and emerged into the master bedroom.

Her breath was stolen when she found Oliver sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom door. He was wearing his tuxedo, but was currently foregoing the jacket. His tie was missing and his top shirt buttons open. His posture was deflated until he saw her and sat up straight. He didn’t speak. He just looked at her, carefully, studying her while Felicity tightened the belt on her robe and attempted to settle her breathing.

Neither of them spoke for the longest time. Felicity was waiting for Oliver to say something, perhaps to reveal what seemed to have him out of sorts earlier. Meanwhile, the Arrow’s face reflected a heavy storm, one that he couldn’t find the words to express.

“I…I just needed my purse,” she finally stammered, gesturing toward the main room. Suddenly, she was moving, scooting out to collect her bag.

Oliver’s eyes followed her as she rushed out of the room and snagged her purse from the coffee table. She returned wordlessly, steering herself back toward the bathroom. This felt beyond awkward.

“I was going to ask your opinion about how to wear my hair but since you don’t seem to be speaking to me…” she muttered, her back to him as she headed to the door. Then she heard his voice rumble, quiet and deep.

“Down.” He cleared his throat. “Your hair looks nice just like that.”

Felicity stopped and turned around.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Their staring contest reconvened. Oliver was winning like Secretariat.

xoxoxo

Oliver had woken up from a short, but deep nap in the late afternoon and then brooded in a sitting room for at least an hour. Maybe two. Every that had happened earlier in the day with Felicity in the boutique played over and over in his head. He still hadn’t talked to her about the events that led to an apparent role reversal in their cover stories.

How had she connected with Myles Crofton so quickly and made such an impression that they were already invited to dine with him and his girlfriend? The obvious answer was…it was Felicity. She was remarkable, after all. He should have known better by now to even wonder. But he was still curious.

And then there was the damn kiss. She completely surprised him with that move. He knew it was probably necessary to establish some kind of relationship with Crofton and Celeste, but it was unexpected and unsettling. He really needed to talk to her.

He opened the door to the bedroom and realized she was using the bathroom. Rather than interrupt her, he wandered out into the living area and found the bags containing the purchases from Dolce & Gabbana. He took them to the extra bathroom before indulging in a relaxing shower.

After getting cleaned up, Oliver began digging through the bags. The shop had been aware of his luggage predicament and added a number of items he might need. There was a sample of aftershave and even a simple pair of pajamas. He didn’t wear pajamas, but maybe he should start. It appeared that the hotel had also chipped in some extra toiletries so he could trim his beard.

Oliver finished dressing, except for his jacket and tie, and wandered around the main room of the suite. Okay, he was pacing, considering what he wanted to say to Felicity and whether or not he could actually express himself, even if he got his shit together, as well as worrying that any kind of conversation now might be counterproductive to the mission. A dangerous mission. Eventually, he ended up sitting in the bedroom directly across from the bathroom door, slumping a little in his designer clothes. It occurred to him that if Thea could see him, she’d give him all kinds of shit for wrinkling the Dolce.

It’s funny when you are waiting for something to happen and then when it does, you are still surprised. That’s how Oliver felt when the bathroom door swung open and Felicity emerged, barefoot and enveloped in a hotel robe. Suddenly, the situation, the job, felt so intimate. This was Felicity like she might be at home in the morning getting ready for work or dressing for a date with someone who wasn’t him.

And he had no words. Everything he had been going over in his head earlier seemed pointless and petty. All she had to do was stand there and look at him. Like that. He could tell when she blanched that he was probably making her uncomfortable with his silence. He knew that Felicity hated pregnant pauses. It was like her brain wanted to switch on and begin ruminating on a problem or a piece of code, but it couldn’t because there might be some pending exchange.

Felicity appeared to wait a moment, then she rushed into the other room. Something about her purse. Oliver took a steadying breath, no longer under scrutiny. Get it together Queen.

When Felicity came back into the room, she didn’t engage with him at all, but rather headed for the bathroom.

“I was going to ask your opinion about how to wear my hair but since you don’t seem to be speaking to me…” she said quietly.

Something in him cracked at that comment. It wasn’t that he wasn’t speaking to her. He simply didn’t know what…how to say anything when she was right there, shimmering like a terrycloth mirage.

She sounded offended. Say something, Queen. She never asked him how he liked her hair before and in all honesty, he liked it however she wore it. Wait? Did she say something about him not speaking to her?

“Down.” He choked out. “Your hair looks nice just like that.”

Felicity stopped moving forward. She pivoted and looked right into his eyes, surprised.

“Okay,” she whispered, tilting her head.

A force — Oliver really had no idea what it was, or he didn’t want to name it — pulled him up off the bed and drew him toward her at the doorway like a magnet. And now she was looking up at him, her blue eyes blazing with curiosity.

“Why did you think…I wasn’t…I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to say,” he exhaled, towering over her, but still seeming soft and sincere.

“Usually I’m the babbler, Oliver. That’s my thing. You wear the leather and put the fear of God in people.”

Felicity followed up her statement with a sweet smile, trying to defuse what had quickly become a tense moment. Oliver let out a breathy chuckle and looked at the ceiling to gather himself.

“I do that, don’t I?”

“You do, although if I’m being honest, I prefer you doing the former to the latter because leather is, you know,” she grinned, “hot and fear of God gets kind of arrowy and there’s blood. Not that it’s your blood. I mean, actually, usually it’s somebody else’s but it’s still gross and gets all over the leather, which is good.”

Oliver was shaking his head now. God, she was adorable.

“And I’m babbling again. Oliver you have to stop me when…”

“Felicity,” he spoke sharply. Then he grasped her arms at her elbows, holding her still. He had her attention now. “Earlier, you kissed me.”

Felicity’s eyes slammed shut for a moment. She couldn’t run, but she was definitely thinking about it. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain what was happening, but when I met Celeste we talked about cryptocurrency and it was a crazy coincidence that her boyfriend was involved in it and she wanted me to meet him and then there he was…freaking Myles Crofton himself and it felt like an unexpected opportunity and I should run with it.”

When her eyes opened, he was studying her face, looking at her with unexpected warmth.

“Felicity, look at me.” Oliver left hand disengaged from her arm and he gently placed his palm against her cheek. Felicity’s eye’s fluttered open.

“When we were at the house and I needed to get Slade,” Oliver said with a quiet, deliberate tone, “I said something to you…”

“It was just for the mission,” she volunteered, trying to button down her expression, which likely still reflected disappointment. “You gave me the syringe.”

Oliver shook his head and he sighed.

“It’s alright, Oliver. We have to say things sometimes that we don’t mean.”

“The natural thing for me to do to really sell the plan to Slade would have been to kiss you.”

Felicity avoided his glance as heat rose on her face. He was still cupping her jaw against his hand and she was enjoying that feeling. It was tender. Sweet.

“But I didn’t want to do that,” he continued. Felicity turned her eyes up to meet his. If he was going to deliver bad news, they should just get it over with so she could go back in the bathroom and fall apart alone.

“Felicity, I’ve kissed a lot of girls. You could wallpaper a room with pictures from the tabloids of me doing thoughtless things and making an exhibitionist ass out of myself back before the island. But I’m different now. I didn’t want the first time I kissed you to be a ruse. I wanted it to be perfect and, just…I thought if it was ever going to happen, I wanted it to be real and I didn’t want to share that moment with anyone but you.”

His beautiful partner’s eyes grew wider as she processed what he was saying.

“Oh. Oh, you wanted to…” her expression morphed from surprise to devastation. “Oh God. Did I ruin it? I did, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have…”

Her voice trailed and room became silent except for the hum of the air conditioning system.

Oliver watched Felicity’s eyes started to fill with moisture. His pulse rose with concern. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He leaned down and his eyes shined at her in a way he had never allowed in the past.

“No,” he rasped. “It was just practice. For this.”

Then he wrapped one arm around her shoulder and the other circled her waist, rubbing against the soft terrycloth belt of her robe. He tugged her closer and lowered his mouth to hers, seeking her lips with the lightest of touches.

When he felt her her body press against his, the anxiety in him relaxed a little. Then she tilted her head to find the perfect angle to answer his kiss and his heart surged beneath his crisp, linen shirt. Time slowed and Felicity’s purse met the ground with a dull, quiet, thud.

Oliver was barely aware that he was moving them, stepping back to the bed, lifting her and draping her across his lap as he sat down. He memorized everything from the exotic perfume of the soap she wore to the whimper she made when he reluctantly pulled away and rested his nose against the soft pink shell of her ear.

“Wow,” she gasped, followed by a “meep” noise signaling she had meant to keep that comment internal. Soon, Oliver’s body was shaking with a laugh he tried to stifle by pulling her closer.

“Yes, wow,” he added, honestly, and also to assure she didn’t feel alone in expressing appreciation because it was the best first kiss he’d ever had. It was the last first kiss he ever wanted. But he kept that to himself for now.

Now, they had a serious mission. As much as he wanted to set that aside and focus on the woman in his arms, he knew that. Oliver took a step back but continued to hold her.

“Oliver.”

“We should probably try to focus on tonight now. This dinner with Crofton. The sooner we get it done, the sooner we can talk about this and lots of other things.”

Felicity studied his face and the way the corners of his mouth were turning up. He was right. She gave him a definitive nod.

“Why don’t you go in there and finish getting ready?” he added.

“Okay,” she sighed and ambled to stand.

“Then you can tell me about our new covers, although I gather you are the lead on this now and I’m the boyfriend.”

Felicity headed toward the bathroom, picking up her handbag along the way. She stopped when she got to the doorway and bit her lip. If she wasn’t still flushed from the kiss, he might have noticed her sheepish look.

“Oliver…”

“You did the right thing. I’m not thrilled that you are more involved than we planned, but you made the right call. And we’re partners. Sometimes that means that you’ll be the one out in front and I have to make peace with that. I’ll still worry, but you are remarkable. No matter what happens, I never forget that.”

“Partners.” Felicity smiled at him, warmth and pride filling her. “Thank you.”

Oliver beamed back at her and leaned back on the bed, supported by his elbows.

Just as she was about to close the door, she peeked out. “I’ll wear my hair like this.”

Good, he mouthed to her.

“And it’s possible Celeste is under the impression that you are my boy toy.” She quickly shut the door, leaving Oliver to process her words and their ramifications.

“Felicity,” he groaned, then flopped against the bed.

#Olicity #fanfiction #romance #latersexytimes

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singledarkshade · 5 years ago

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Sapphire And Steel

Part Three The bar was empty when Rip walked in but that wasn’t surprising considering how early it was. Sliding onto the stool at the middle of the bar he gave a nod to the man who set a beer in front of him.

“Early in the day for you, Detective,” the man behind the bar noted with an amused drawl.

Rip rolled his eyes, “It’s been a long few frustrating days.”

Leonard Snart shrugged, “I thought that was part of the job description.”

Shaking his head, Rip took a long drink.

“I’m actually here hoping you know something that could help me,” Rip said.

Snart gave him a hard stare, “You know I’ve been out of that life for three years and I run a bar that is basically frequented solely by cops.”

“I do,” Rip said softly, “But right now, I am clutching at straws.”

Opening a soda for himself Snart waited for Rip to continue.

Rip took another drink before saying, “I’ve been given the Sapphire and Steel case,” he frowned when Snart let out a laugh, “You wouldn’t happen to have heard anything that could help me?”

“They driving you crazy?” Snart chuckled, “I heard Perkins used to get cards from the ladies.”

Rip shook his head, “They’ve stepped up their game recently.”

Snart nodded, “I don’t know if this is true but a few months before I was released Zaman Druce was transferred in. I’m sure you know who he is.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Rip stated stiffly.

“Well, according to Druce,” Snart said, “He trained them.”

Rip absently took another drink, “That makes sense. I might have to talk to him.”

“Just be careful,” Snart warned, “He doesn’t give up information easily and will want something in return.”

Rip shuddered and downed the rest of his beer, “I know.”

Snart took the empty glass, eyes boring into him but didn’t ask whatever he was thinking. Instead he slid out from behind the bar and moved to help his sister who was wheeling herself in with a box in her lap.

“Rip,” Lisa greeted him with a smile, “Isn’t it early for you?”

“Just here for some words of wisdom from your brother,” Rip told her, “And I need to go. Otherwise I will be late to meet Caitlin for dinner.”

Lisa grinned at him, “We don’t want that. Make sure you come back soon.”

Giving her a smile, Rip turned and nodded to Snart before heading out of the bar.

Rip frowned at the mountain of files on his desk, grimacing when Cisco added another bundle.

“Please tell me there’s no more,” he sighed.

Cisco chuckled, “Until the ones you ordered from London appear, this is all for now.”

“Okay,” Rip looked at them, he grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, “Looks like I have a long night ahead of me.”

Cisco pulled over a chair, “I’ll order the food.”

“You don’t have to stay, Cisco,” Rip told him.

“It’s only Friday night,” he shrugged, “Who wants to go to a bar…”

“And see a young lady who shall remain nameless,” Rip smiled at Cisco’s flustered look, “Just be careful, her brother is very overprotective.”

“Don’t I know it,” Cisco mused softly before shaking himself and quickly saying, “No idea what you mean.”

Chuckling Rip pulled the first file off the pile, “Of course not. But if you did, the charity ball is next week, and you could ask her to accompany you.”

“I…well…”

“It would mean you wouldn’t just be there with myself and Caitlin,” Rip noted.

Cisco grimaced slightly before shrugging, “I’ll think it over.”

Chuckling to himself, Rip started working. A few hours, and many bad cups of coffee later, food was delivered. Finally, at midnight Rip called a halt. With only half the files worked through they had put together a list of possible cases their jewel thieves had worked before going out on their own.

“I need sleep,” Rip said, “Let’s leave this for now and pick it up later.”

Cisco nodded, waving goodbye as he headed out to get his things so he could go home. Left along in the office Rip pulled out his phone and opened the photo he’d been sent. The beautiful woman wearing only a towel and a stolen necklace, a taunt and reminder that they could get to him. Shaking himself Rip headed home to get some sleep.

*********************************************

The Annual Police Charity Ball took place in Central City’s Concert Hall as it did every year. Rip smiled as Caitlin opened her door to her apartment wearing in a long black and white evening dress, “You look beautiful,”

Caitlin accepted his kiss, “Well, I knew I’d have to pull out the stops to match you in your dress uniform.”

He chuckled and offered his arm, leading her to the car. They reached the hall and Rip led her into the party. This was the first night in a while that Rip hadn’t been working. He was determined to capture the duo who called themselves Sapphire and Steel and was spending most of his time working.

“You know you’re not meant to be working tonight,” a familiar voice made Rip turn, seeing Cisco coming towards him with Lisa Snart.

“Just thinking,” Rip replied before looking at Lisa, “I see you’ve lowered your standards.”

Lisa laughed, “Well, he looked like a puppy when asking me to come. How could I say no?”

“Hey,” Cisco cried.

Rip chuckled, “Well I’m glad you did, Lisa.”

“Thank you,” she smiled before looking up at Cisco, “Why don’t we go grab a drink before finding our seats for dinner.”

Cisco nodded, “We’ll catch you guys later.”

Rip smiled watching Cisco take control of Lisa’s wheelchair and guiding her towards the bar.

“I wasn’t sure at first about Lisa,” Caitlin told him as they moved through the crowds, “Considering her record but she’s really good for him.”

Rip nodded, “Well her accident changed a great deal for her.”

He winced as one of the wait staff walked into him.

“Sorry, sir,” the woman said disappearing through the crowd before he could say a word.

With a shrug he continued with Caitlin through the crowds to where Joe West was standing.

Gideon laughed as she watched Miranda plant the tracker on their detective, without him realising who she was.

“Well?” Miranda’s voice came in her ear.

“I have him,” Gideon replied, “I will know everywhere he goes tonight. Are you sure about this?”

Miranda chuckled as she slipped out of the ballroom to change from her current outfit into the gown she was going to wear for the rest of the evening, “It’s time we had a little chat. I want him to know that he’s welcome to join us any time he likes.”

“Do you think he’ll take you up on our offer?” Gideon asked amused.

“I think he’ll be interested but it’s too soon,” Miranda replied, “I just want it to be in the back of his mind for everything we do from now on.”

Gideon watched the screens in front of her from the van they were using. She had been surprised by Miranda’s decision to come to this event to meet their detective but when Miranda got an idea in her head it was sometimes impossible to remove it.

When they first started playing with their detective, Gideon would admit there was a physical attraction to him but recently, as they watched him with his friends and how dedicated he was to finding them for their crimes, the attraction had deepened.

They’d had a third person join them in the bedroom before, but it was always just someone for them to play with and spice things up a little. But their detective was another matter completely They both wanted to have fun with him at first but now…now it was something deeper. A connection they both felt to him that they wanted him to feel too.

“Well,” Miranda’s voice cut through Gideon’s musing, “What do you think of the dress?”

Gideon smiled, “You look beautiful, darling. He will be stunned.”

Miranda beamed and twirled.

“Do you have everything you need?” Gideon asked, “Because we can’t have him trying to arrest you before you’ve finished our offer.”

“I have everything, I promise,” Miranda assured, “You need to stop worrying about me.”

“I don’t like being separated,” Gideon reminded her, “Especially around so many cops.”

Miranda looked in the mirror, so her face was reflected on the camera she was wearing, “I’ll be fine.”

Dinner was finished and the plates were being cleared. They sat and talked about random topics, as they waited for the dance floor to be cleared so that the ball part of the Charity Ball could start.

“Who wants another drink?” Rip asked, needing to stretch his legs a little. At the nods, Rip quickly took their orders and, with a smile to Caitlin who was deep in conversation with Iris West, he headed to the bar.

As he moved through the crowds, Rip felt a sting on his hand. Taking a few steps forward he felt his knees buckle.

“I’ve got you,” a soft voice came through the fog that suddenly enveloped his mind as someone took a hold of him.

Unable to resist, Rip allowed whoever was with him to guide him away from the ballroom and into an office. He was placed in a seat and heard the door lock.

“I can’t,” he murmured, “I can’t move my legs or my arms.”

A soft chuckle came from him, “It’s alright. It’s only temporary,” the warm silky voice continued in his ear, “I couldn’t have you running away from me, Detective. Your mind will clear in a few moments too.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Rip finally managed to focus on the other person in the room, staring when he realised who the woman standing in front of him was.

“What?” he demanded, trying to move but his limbs were refusing to obey his commands.

“Hello, Detective,” Miranda Coburn smiled down at him, “It’s nice to meet face to face finally.”

Anger filled him that this woman had drugged him, “What do you want from me?”

“To meet you,” Miranda purred her hand gently stroking his arm, “You’ve been working so hard to find us, we thought that you should be able to find at least one of us.”

He stared at her confused.

“For a while anyway,” Miranda chuckled.

Rip tried to move.

“It will wear off but not for another ten minutes,” Miranda told him softly, “I know you’re not happy but until I can trust you not to try to arrest me this is the only way I could say hello.”

“You’re insane,” Rip stated.

Taking his face in her hands, Miranda shook her head, “Just enjoying life, Detective,” her face softened, and she stared at him with what he realised were beautiful brown eyes, “And getting to see how handsome you are in person.”

Rip stared back at her, the pictures didn’t do her justice, she was stunning in real life and he found whatever he was going to say slipping away.

“I know you’re interested in us,” Miranda smiled, gently brushing away imaginary lint from his shoulder, “In more than a professional aspect.”

“What…”

“I know how often you look at Gideon’s picture,” Miranda breathed, “How many times you open that message we sent to you. And I don’t blame you.”

Rip grimaced, uncomfortable at the way she was calling him out on what had become a bit of an obsession and fantasy.

“In person,” Miranda whispered in his ear, “She’s even more amazing. Brilliant, gorgeous and perfect in every way.”

Rip glared at her, making sure he didn’t react to what she was saying.

“Do you know why I named her Sapphire?” Miranda asked.

“Because she likes blue things?”

Miranda laughed, “Funnily enough, she does. But she is also the most beautiful jewel you will ever see. She sparkles in every way but especially her mind.”

“Bring her here and I can give you both some new jewellery,” Rip manged to say, “The bracelets are one size fit all.”

Miranda smiled at him, “You’re adorable. The serum will be wearing off soon and I know you’re not going to be silent about my being here. I’ll see you soon, next time I promise to bring Gideon.”

Rip tried to move so he could arrest her but although he was able to feel his extremities again, they weren’t under control yet. Miranda leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, but Rip turned slightly without thought and her lips touched his. The kiss was soft at first, but Miranda deepened it and, despite knowing he shouldn’t, Rip kissed her back.

Suddenly she pulled away and disappeared leaving him sitting wondering what had just happened.

#fic #legends of tomorrow #the flash #rip hunter #gideon #miranda coburn #cisco ramon #leonard snart #lisa snart #burnship #hunterburn

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hearttak3r · 5 years ago

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Welcome to Asylum

Jack Bordeur was a serial killer. He had been arrested on 7 counts of premeditated murder of young women between three different states. There were twelve of them, actually. They just hadn’t found the other girls, or hadn’t been able to connect them to him. And he wasn’t stupid enough to admit to them in court.

Marcy Peters was the first, two weeks past her 18th birthday. She had long blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was easy. A little bit of attention from an attractive guy and she was a puddle. He took her out on their first date in a borrowed car to the look out. They’d talked a little, and then he’d gotten her skirt up, kissing her as he pushed inside her. She had been clumsy, but she felt good, wrapped around him, completely at his mercy. He’d used her until he came, filling her, letting her enjoy it for second before he’d pulled his switchblade out. She’d sobbed and fought back as much as she could until she finally started choking on her blood. He hadn’t expected it to take so long, though. She lost consciousness quickly, but it was nearly another half an hour before she finally stopped breathing. He’d dumped her body and burned his bloody clothes.

Then there was Alyssa, killed in almost the exact same fashion as Marcy, right down to the spot he took her to. It was the easiest way. A coupe others, sprinkled throughout with time between. Then Jessica, the oldest, who he’d killed in her home and left her body for her husband to find. There were at least three girls after her, and then the twins. They left a scar. He didn’t try much more dramatics after them, going back to his normal way. Steal a car, pick up a girl (anywhere from 19-21, long hair that was some varying shade of blonde, slim bodies, innocent and beautiful eyes..) and take them to some remote place where he’d kill them and leave the car. The body, he’d move. Not far, but just far enough and hide it enough to make it a chase for the police to find.

The last had been a mistake. He’d gotten sloppy, and he’d gotten too confident in his abilities. He’d taken the girl to the drive in, and they’d ended up with her in his lap, touching him and kissing him. He’d grabbed his switchblade, stained from all the girls before her and maybe a little dull from slicing through them, and had grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. He drew the knife across her throat...And she screamed. As long and loud as she could. She should’ve been 13, but she’d gotten out and ran. When he gave chase, other people noticed. And the cops were on him soon enough.

He’d been arrested on 7 counts, and thrown in jail, then shuffled into prison while he waited. He got a lawyer, and the country got safety, his mugshot going up in the papers, advertising that a killer of 7 (should have been 13....bitch...) had been apprehended and was now behind bars, awaiting judgement. They wanted to give him the death penalty, but his lawyer plead insanity. And there he was, stuck in an asylum for 5 months. It’d take two for them to even let him out among the others, though he wasn’t allowed near the knitting circle. He was sitting in the day room in the standard jeans and button down, his black hair combed, though it hung around his face. He couldn't style it much in there. He had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back in his chair, watching two of the patients playing cards. When the door opened, he looked over immediately.

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prophetandprincess · 6 years ago

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X X X X X X X

Hey Everyone! How is life treating you? 2019 has been, systematically, doing it’s best to make me wonder if I possibly was cursed and didn’t realize it. However, I am still plugging away at this story because I love it and I love you. Hope you enjoy the read

Trigger Warning: Assault, Gun Violence, Mention of Rape

“You look like someone shot your dog,” Monica wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist and rested her head on the taller girl’s shoulder while they waited in line to pay for their frozen yogurt. “What’s wrong? Boy trouble again because if you need me to kick someone’s ass…”

“Only if you consider my prepodavatel telling me that if I don’t get better, I am going to fail boy trouble,” Alex sighed as she put her head against Monica’s curls. “Please explain to me why I decided to take Russian as an elective again?”

“Girl, I have been asking you that since you told me that it was on your schedule,” Monica laughed as she gave Alex a squeeze and let go as it was almost their turn to pay. “I mean, it’s Tuesday, but I can offer going out for drinks Friday night to help you forget your troubles.”

“I can’t,” Alex sighed as she pulled her card out, attempting to stop everything else from spilling out. “I have my first extra credit thing Saturday morning. I don’t think it would be a good idea to show up hungover the first day.”

“That on top of you not sleeping would not give the best impression, I’ll give you that,” Monica laughed as the two girls grabbed a table by the window and dug into their yogurt. “Where is this assignment again, the Ravenclaw Institute or something?”

“The Ravencroft Institute.” Alex purposefully didn’t tell Monica that it was an asylum for the criminally insane. There was really no reason to get a lecture when Alex just wanted to enjoy her frozen yogurt.

Unfortunately, she forgot that Google existed and it could be accessed easily by a smartphone.

“Your internship is at an asylum for the criminally insane.” Monica blinked at Alex, her spoon dripping peanut butter yogurt on the table while cheesecake and strawberry bits threatened to slide off.

Slowly, Monica put the bright pink plastic spoon into the container and folded her long, slender fingers on the table, and stared at her. Alex pushed around her chocolate yogurt filled with gummy worms, chocolate chips, and whipped cream and avoided the intense gaze. However, after almost three minutes of Monica’s silence, Alex finally looked up. Her dark eyes were practically sparking and her bright red lips were a thin line.

“Please explain to me what made you think that taking an extra credit assignment at an insane asylum was a good idea? Especially given how you attract every lunatic is a ten mile radius?” Monica’s voice was steady and controlled, but her nails were pressing into her skin hard. “I didn’t even think there were any asylums in New York City anymore? That’s like, some medieval shit, Alex.”

“It’s a government run facility for criminals who are too dangerous and unstable for the normal prison population,” Alex recited what she had read off the internet, expecting someone was going to yell her about this whole situation.

“Yes, because ‘government run facility’ is not just as terrible sounding as ‘asylum’” Monica’s voice rose and Alex quickly tried to shush her. “What the hell could you possibly be doing there? You aren’t a psychologist, you’re a scientist.”

“Let’s not shame our psychologist colleagues, they are also scientists.” Alex pointed out, which lead Monica waved her spoon before vigorously attacking her frozen yogurt once again. “There is a patient at the Institute that survived some sort of genetic mutation. Professor Warren wants to study how that affected the mental processes as well as the physiological effects. I would just be collecting skin and blood samples, then completing a quick interview.”

While Alex was attempting to sound confident it was all a show. There wasn’t much information about Ravencroft on the internet and it almost made her tell Professor Warren no. However, she had checked her grades that morning and had failed her first Russian quiz, so she needed the extra credit to cushion her GPA. A professor wouldn’t send her into a seriously dangerous situation, so there was no reason to stress about it. Right?

There was also this morbid sense of curiosity about what this genetic mutation looked like. While it was probably not anything dramatic, she was envisioning extra limbs or scales. The scientific part of her brain was interested about the research that this data was going to be used for as well. The questionnaire she had been emailed seemed pretty standard, but there was also a note to follow any line of questioning that Alex thought relevant. How was she supposed to know that if she didn’t know what the whole study was about?

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Monica said with a sigh, shaking her head so her curls bounced wildly. “Now, instead of lazily laying in my bed with some hunk Saturday morning and getting my well-deserved beauty sleep, I’m going to be worrying about your dumb ass.”

“If you get any more beautiful, people are going to start building monuments to you,” Alex laughed as she decapitated a gummy worm.

“It’s just, you have this freakish ability to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Knowing you, there is going to be a security failure and you’re going to be taken hostage within the first half hour.” Monica gave Alex a small smile to show that she was mostly joking.

Alex rolled her eyes, but couldn’t say that it was completely out of the realm of possibility. Just imagining the lecture she would get from Sam and Steve if they had to bust into a criminal asylum to save her was enough to give her a headache. That actually might be what would cause Steve to lock her in Stark Tower like a fairytale princess. Her mother and Jake would probably send him a thank you basket when they found out.

“Well, since you’re going to be in a hostage situation on Saturday, you have to come over and have wine and Chinese tonight. I’ll invite Gabe over and we’ll have a nice night in.” Monica had stress eaten all of her yogurt in record speed and tossed the empty carton into the trash can.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” Alex laughed as her phone started to vibrate in her pocket, surprised to see Michael Sousa’s name on the screen. “I have to take this, give me a second?”

Monica waved her hand as Alex grabbed her yogurt and headed out to get a little bit of privacy. Normally, she would have let the call go to voicemail, but she was hoping that her favorite New York City cop had done the background check she requested on Peter Parker. She really hoped that he wasn’t some crazed stalker or something because that would make lab really awkward.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it, I swear,” Alex joked as she picked up the call.

“You know, it kind of concerns me that is your standard greeting when you answer my calls,” Michael’s voice held a smile, which eased Alex’s anxiety a little. He would be using his cop voice if there was serious trouble.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten my innocence out of the way, what can I do for you, Detective?” Alex leaned against the warm bricks of the building, phone pressed against her shoulder as she started in on her yogurt again. “Just know that I can and will plead the fifth if need be.”

“Alright, well please try and keep that sense of humor during this conversation,” Michael laughed, but Alex’s anxiety made her shove more yogurt into her face. “I might have asked a couple of the younger officers keep an eye on the guys you beat up outside the Marquee the other night.”

“Well…I guess that is better than having them following me around,” Alex sighed as she continued to shovel yogurt into her mouth. “I’m guessing they are up to something that has to do with me or you wouldn’t be even calling me. What’s going on?”

“That’s where it gets a little fuzzy,” Michael paused after that.

“So you’re calling me because?”

“The group of them were hanging around your college a couple days the past week. I’m not saying that they were looking for you, but they really had no reason being there if they weren’t looking for you,” Michael said it slowly, as if he really didn’t want to admit this to Alex.

“So, you’re calling me to be careful and report if I see a bunch of rapists hanging about,” Alex scraped the bottom of her yogurt container, needed more sugar to deal with this. What was it with every man in her life thinking that she needed to be monitored twenty-four seven?

“Something like that. I know you can take care of yourself, just be a bit more careful than normal,” there was a hint of a smile in Michael’s voice again. “I would hate to have to write you up for manslaughter charges.”

“So you’re just trying to save yourself some paperwork, I see how it is.” Alex laughed as she tossed the yogurt cup away as she walked back into join Monica. “Thanks for the heads up, Michael. If anything changes, let me know.”

“I would say the same thing to you, but it would be a waste of my breath,” Michael actually laughed now. “Take care of yourself, Alex. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Michael as in that hunky police officer from the other night?” Monica asked with a large smile on her face as Alex hung up the phone and threw it in her bag. It was obvious from that wide smile that Monica had a thousand things to say, but instead just tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes.

“If I’m coming to your place for Chinese and wine, I need to get back to my place and get some work done.” Alex knew there was no reason to attempt to defend herself against Monica’s unstated accusations. No matter what she said, Monica would turn it around that Alex was madly in love with the Detective. Better to just keep her mouth shut.

“You’re no fun,” Monica pouted as they gathered up their stuff and headed out of the shop. “If it’s because of the Russian thing, I suggest swallowing your pride and getting a tutor. If you go to the student union, there might be something on the bulletin board. I need my fun-loving and carefree Alexandra back.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Alex laughed as they walked home, enjoying the warm weather in early autumn afternoon.

“Darling, all my ideas are good.” Monica flipped her curls before busting out laughing again. “Seriously, though. You need some stress relief and if you get it from sleeping with a cop, I guess I can forgive you.”

Alex rolled her eyes, but just let it go. Henry waved at the girls when they got back to their apartment building, saying that it was good to see them enjoying the day. Alex went to her apartment and was the most productive she had been all semester. While she might have dozed off on her anatomy notes, she still got caught up on all her classes except Russian.

At seven, Alex finally closed her books. She didn’t worry about changing out of the gym shorts and tank tops she had been wearing, knowing that Monica had seen worse and Gabe wouldn’t care. Instead, she slid on some flip-flops and plodded to Monica’s apartment.

“Su casa es tu casa.” Gabriel gave Alex a dazzling smile as he opened Monica’s door and handed her a wine glass.

“Muchas gracias.” Alex knew that her pronunciation was terrible, but it was the one phrase in Spanish that she knew.

Gabe gave a good natured laugh as he closed the door and ushered Alex into the living room. Monica was flopped belly down on a bean bag, ankles cross in the air, as she had notes and textbooks spread all around her.

“Oh, no, if I can’t study, then you can’t study,” Alex kicked Monica’s leg lightly before she sank down onto the couch, enjoying the air conditioning. “Besides, what kind of host makes their guest open the door?”

“I had to finish this chapter, alright? Besides, Gabe has been texting a boy for the past half hour with this idiotic smile on his face while we were waiting for you. He’s fine.” Monica flipped her text book closed before rolling onto her back. “And, because we have the first sorority mixer on Saturday, which you’re totally invited to, I need to get ahead on assignments.”

“I’m probably going to want to just come home and sleep, but I’ll let you know,” Alex knew that the chances of her actually sleeping more than two hours were very low, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try. Plus, socializing past drinking and getting Chinese sounded too draining.

“If you wanted to go and have hot sex with the police officer, you just have to say so,” Monica laughed as she got to her feet and grabbed her phone.

Monica turned on Netflix and then tossed her phone over to Gabe so that he could put in his GrubHub order. He passed the phone back to Monica, who tossed it at Alex, almost making her spill wine all over the couch. After Alex handed it back, Monica continued to focus on the phone, tapping away and sighing.

“You’re looking a little tense, Mo,” Gabe said as he turned down the episode of Supernatural for a moment. “Something wrong with our favorite Vice President of a sorority?”

“For once, it’s not the sisters that are causing me to go prematurely grey,” Monica sat up and blew some of her curls out of her face. “There has been some…tension at Oscorp recently due to events that I can’t tell you about under penalty of death. Of course, the interns are being blamed for the whole thing, which is ridiculous.”

“Why didn’t you mention something when we were together earlier?” Alex looked away from the screen were Sam and Dean Winchester were doing something very stupid and looking amazing doing it.

“When did I have the time between you dropping the mental asylum bomb and then talking to Hot Detective on the phone?” Monica smile at Alex.

“What’s the problem, in vague terms in which we wouldn’t really know what’s going on if someone tortured us for the information?” Gabriel asked as he got up and refilled everyone’s wine glass.

“As it won’t be leaving this room,” Monica gave them both a pointed look, “Oscorp has been experiencing some technical difficulties with their security system recently. Nothing serious and no one outside of the company knows about it, but obviously they are starting to get a bit paranoid about the whole thing. As the interns are low men on the totem pole and some of the glitches are around our lab, all the interns in my division have been questioned. There is a group message that’s comparing interrogation notes.”

“That sucks, didn’t you all need to go through some sort of…testing to get security clearance?” Alex asked as she sipped her wine. She had been wondering how different Oscorp was from Stark Industries, but she didn’t want to come out and say she had to have a polygraph test. It would seem weird if it wasn’t industry practice.

“I mean there were background check run and personal references verified, the usual stuff. We also don’t have access to everything, just the projects we’re working on. I mean, I’m working on a new water filtration system that takes out impurities while equally distributing things like fluoride into the water at less cost, smaller equipment, and hopefully completely green.” Monica shrugged. “I don’t know why they’re so worked up about it. Nothing has been stolen and the security cameras have never gone out. It’s just some IT bug that has to be taken care of.”

“It might not be that simple,” Gabriel said as he tapped the side of his wineglass, obviously deep in thought. “There are a number of reasons for glitches in the system that are not simply IT issues.”

Gabriel started to explain a number of complicated computer and security processes that could possibly lead to the vague glitches Monica had mentioned. Some of it was rather innocent stuff, others were malicious virus that had no set plan of attack, just to cause chaos. Alex zoned out after a couple minutes, feeling about an inch tall for not noticing that something was bothering Monica. She had to be the worst friend in the history of the world, just a step above Brutus to Caesar, but just barely.

“Oh fucking hell,” Monica gave a frustrated growl and collapsed face first into the bean bag. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“What’s going on?” Alex asked, not sure what could have made Monica react so dramatically.

“I hit pick-up instead of delivery and so now the delicious, unhealthy, and soul comforting Chinese food that I need is now sitting on a counter instead of on it’s way into my belly,” Monica’s voice was muffled by the chair.

“Don’t be so dramatic, I’ll go pick it up,” Alex said with a laugh as she got up and slipped her flip-flops on. “You ordered from The Jade Dragon, right? That’s only like ten blocks away and it’s still nice out.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Gabriel asked, already getting to his feet. However, at that moment a cell phone started to ring. They all stared at one another for a moment before it was coming from Gabe’s pocket. He pulled out another cell phone and sighed.

“You take whatever that is, it’s not that late and the restaurant isn’t far. I’ll be back before you finish your call.” Alex left before anyone could protest, taking the stairs since it was faster.

It had gotten a bit cooler than Alex had expected and she crossed her arms over her chest as she walked quickly toward The Jade Dragon. While the restaurant didn’t get any marks on aesthetics or presentation, it was the most delicious Chinese in the city. For a moment while she was waiting for the light to change, Alex got a chill that she was being watched, but the light changed and the feeling slipped away as the bell over the front door rang.

After five minutes to confirm with Monica that Alex was there to get the food, she was left with a brown paper bag packed full with delicious smelling food. The walk back took a little longer, Alex having to switch hands when her fingers cramped. That feeling of something not being right only increased as she seemed to hit every light. Alex’s fingers found her wrist, looking around, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Anxiety was a bitch.

Five blocks from the building, something hard and cold was pressed into Alex’s spine. After having a gun pressed to your skin once, you never forget it, and Alex froze recognizing that feeling now. This time it was not one of her less than civilized friends playing a not at all funny joke and Alex’s wrist throbbed in pain.

“You looked better in the red dress,” A male voice whispered into her ear. “You’re going to walk down this alley with us, calmly, and we’re going to have a little chat.”

“If I say no?” Alex’s voice was steady even though she was covered in a cold sweat. This close, there was the possibility of getting the gun away from the guy without him paralyzing her with one shot, if not kill her. However, there was a chance she couldn’t and also that he would accidently fire and hit some innocent bystander. Was that a risk she was willing to take?

"We don’t believe in the word no, Princess.” The sound of a click made Alex jump a little. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Alex knew at that moment it was the assholes from Marquee.

Her eyes closed and she said a couple of choice words under her breath before moving into the alley. While she was still scared, a part of her was wondering how this kept happening to her. Maybe she should let Steve lock in Stark Tower, maybe then she wouldn’t be accosted by morons.

“You know,” Alex said over her shoulder, anger starting to replace some of her fear, “if I was really a princess, this would be considered treason. I could have you beheaded.”

“You smart mouth bitch,” The gun is brought down on the back of Alex’s skull, causing her to stumble into the dumpster and see stars. “I lost my acceptance to medical school because of the police report.”

Alex set the Chinese food on the top of the dumpster so she wouldn’t spill everything and slowly turned around. The three men who assaulted the brunette outside the Marquee where all glaring at her, but there was only one gun, which was a plus. Still, Alex was in flip-flops and she didn’t think that one bag of takeout would stop a bullet.

“Do you understand what you did to us, what we might lose?” The shortest one growled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have raped a bunch of women and then your perfect future would be secure. However, you ruined their futures so it only seems fair that your lives are ruined as well.” The fear had seeped away at some point, leaving just anger. How dare these men who raped a number of women, stand there and complain to her about how their actions ruined their lives.

“None of them said no,” the black haired one pointed out with the sleaziest smile Alex had ever seen, “and neither will you.”

“No,” Alex said simply as she took a step forward. “Now, if you touch me, you’re going to need god himself to stop me from ripping your throat out with my teeth.”

All three of the men took a small step backward at the viciousness in her words. It only took a moment for them to collect themselves, smirks sliding back onto their faces. Alex had never had the urge to spit in someone’s face, then she did in that moment. She had always felt that a punch was more refined than spitting, but these guys deserved to be degraded.

“Well, then I guess I’m just going to kill you if I can’t get anything from you. That will lead to the other bitch dropping the case.” The black haired one, who was holding the gun said. “You’re probably a horrid fuck anyway.”

Before Alex could say anything, the gun muzzle was pressed into her chest. It jumped a little with each heartbeat as they stared each other down.

Alex knew that there should be fear, there should be tears, there should be begging for her life, but all she felt anger. It would be a cold day in hell before she let these pieces of shit kill her. That meant she had two options, attempt to disarm and get away or try and talk them out of shooting her. There was no point in attempting to appeal to their sense of humanity, it was obvious that they had none, but she could probably spin it into a way of them saving their own asses.

“Finally, a way to shut you up.” The black haired one slid up to brush against her jaw and then back down. “You know, you’re very pretty when you aren’t talking. Are you sure we couldn’t work something out?”

“I wish I could say the same for you, but you’re just disgusting,” Alex said between clenched teeth.

The men just laughed a dark and humorless laugh. Alex knew that she now only had one option, which was to get the gun away from them. Yet, the muzzle moved back down, right over her heart, right into the red star tattoo, and pressed hard. The black haired man took another step forward and licked his lips.

There was a sharp pain and a large crash, but there was no blood. For a long second Alex just stared at the other two men, neither of them sure what the hell had happened or where the black haired man had gone. Then there was a flash of red and blue and the assailant was being punched multiple times in the face.

“Now, is that any way to treat a lady or the Chinese food she’s carrying?” Spiderman asked as he moved to stand between Alex and the other two men. “Why don’t we just let her hurry home before the foods cold and we can have a chat about manners.”

“We’re going to teach you a lesson this time you fucking fairy,” the shorter one growled.

There was the sound of a shot being fired and Spiderman jumped out of the way. Alex just stood there, pressed against the dumpster, unable to move. It was as if the little buffering wheel was up in her brain and she couldn’t process anything. Spiderman bounced off the bricks, avoiding another shot, and gave Alex an ungracious shove behind the dumpster to get her out of the line of fire.

It was a difficult for Alex to stay focused on the fight, Spiderman moving so fast, but unable to get the three men all wrapped up in webs. The vigilante was able to get the gun out of the black haired one’s hand, but that was the only progress he really made. The alley was too tight and it was obvious that Spiderman didn’t want to really hurt them.

As if something switched on, Alex surged forward and tackled the shortest guy from behind. They both hit the cracked asphalt, Alex’s knees getting bloodied, before she brought her knee up and slam it into his balls. The man’s elbow came back at the same moment and winded her, causing her to roll off of him.

Spiderman’s foot came down on the wrist of the other man’s wrist as he got him onto the ground as well, but the blacked haired one got behind him. While he didn’t have a gun, he did wrap an arm around Spiderman’s throat and they both tumbled into the wall. Alex scrambled over and slammed her elbow into the other man’s stomach to stop him from joining the fray. Spiderman got a bit of leverage and flipped over, stuck to the wall, and webbed the back haired man to the ground. Then he webbed the other two, making sure to cover their eyes.

Alex thought that was a bit excessive as she got to her feet, hissing from the scrapes on her knees. She was thinking up something witty to say to the web-slinger as she tilted her head up. However, it died on her lips and all the air left her lungs. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.

“No,” Alex said shaking her head and backing up, “no, no, no! Not again.”

“Again?” Peter Parker asked as he jumped down onto the asphalt and picked up his mask, brushing it off. “You unmask superheroes often, Harper?”

“Why me? What did I do to have this keep happening to me?” Alex ran her hands through her hair as she paced over the prone bodies, pulling little sounds of protests when she stepped on a hand or stomach. It was like she had a tattoo on her forehead that read ‘superheroes please come mess up my perfectly normal life at the most inconvenient times.’ How many superheroes were running around New York anyway?

"You just found out about my secret identity, I’m pretty sure I should be the one freaking out.” Peter pointed out, brushing the dirt off his mask.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the hell up.”

“What? I have a secret identity for a reason!”

They two of them just stood there and staring at one another, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Most of Alex’s continued four letter words. Of all the students in her Biochemistry class, she was paired with Spiderman. Peter Parker was Spiderman.

“What do we do now?” Alex sighed, as the sound of sirens reached her ears. It wasn’t like she could unlearn Peter’s identity and it wasn’t like she could avoid her lab partner. She had even started to, against her will, consider him a friend.

“Well, first we should get out of this alley since the boys in blue are on their way. They aren’t all that fond of me and vigilante justice,” Peter tugged the mask on, even though it was pretty pointless.

“Do you know that there is a task force that is tasked with finding vigilantes and you’re on the top of their list?” Alex asked with a smile before looking down at the idiots on the ground. “One of that task force will probably be here because of this and I should talk to him. You get out of here, though.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone with these guys,” Peter gave the wiggling black haired man a swift kick in the ribs. “I mean, I’ve been following you for weeks trying to keep them from getting you alone. Especially after their first threat.”

“So you were stalking me, I knew it!” All of strange questions and popping up out of nowhere suddenly made so much more sense. Popping up when she was jogging at dangerous times, being alone with Sandy where she could have been hurt or taken, and being sincere when asking if she was alright. It was still stalker behavior, but in a sweeter way.

“It wasn’t stalking, it was…protection detail that you didn’t know about,” Peter protested.

“Yeah well,” The sirens sounded as if they were on this block, “we’ll talk about it later. These guys are tied up all pretty and you’re not good to anyone in jail. Especially me, we have that project in Warren’s class that I don’t want to do alone.”

“Oh, I see, purely selfish reasons,” Peter laughed, but he crawled up the wall without any more protest. “I’ll see you when I see you, Harper.”

“You bet your cute little spandex ass, now get out of here.” Alex walked over and grabbed the Chinese off the dumpster so that didn’t get tipped over in the chaos.

“Stay out of trouble,” Peter called before he disappeared onto the roof.

“Always has to have the last word,” Alex muttered as police officers came into the alley, guns drawn. “Hello officers, could you call Detective Sousa for me? I believe this case falls into his jurisdiction.”

#marvel #spiderman #the amazing spider-man #peter parker #A Spider Sat Down Beside Her #Update 9

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