#anyway thanks for stopping by! hope yall have been well since we last spoke :) have a lovely rest of your day/night!
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doodleodds · 1 year ago
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July random art dump!
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technowoah · 3 years ago
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since I'm a gremlin I can ask for a c!Schlatt angst fighting with reader while he's drunk and the reader is just fed up with dealing with him and goes "IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" and just walks away and he realizes the shit he's done?
(the same anon who wasn't prepared to be heartbroken-)
Heartless
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Somehow you find your way back to Schlatt again and it never goes as well as you think.
- c!schlatt x reader
- angst
- anon!requested
- part 1 to this story
⚠︎: swearing, angst, alcoholism, mentions of dying, c!quackity makes a appearance, hopefully this is sad enough yall-
An// i decided to make this a part 2 to Have a Heart! So I hope you enjoy love!
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The night is still cold and dark as you begrudgingly walk back to one of the buildings that was put up to replace whatever L'Manburg was there before. 
After Dream's word you had still contemplated going back to Schlatt. He doesn't deserve what you do, but you still end up walking along the Prime Path back to the drunken man. You had no end goal and that was a problem. You probably were going to be embarrassed that you came back to him. You couldn't let Schlatt die, from either the hands of someone else or let him die from himself.
You eventually found yourself in front of the metal doors that led into endless hallways of offices nobody occupied. The offices that had wine and cigarettes for Schlatt to smoke just in case he decided to have a meeting in a room that isn't the official meeting room. 
Walking down the hallways you saw that most of the doors to each office were open and most of the alcohol and cigarettes were taken from each room. You peaked inside every room to see if Schlatt was in there, but something in you told you not to because you weren't prepared. What were you going to say? Stop drinking? Because you're sure he'll know he's not going to stop. You want to try to save him.
You slowly opened a door to reveal an office that looked an absolute mess. The small refrigerator was knocked over and all of the wine off the shelf was either shattered on the floor or gone. There were cigarette butts on the ground and lit a cigar, there were also papers and folders all across the room.
You whispered as you walked around the lit room "Schlatt must've been in here."
"Sure as hell he was!"
You spun around to see Quackity looking disheveled as ever. He had a bottle of liquor in his hand, his beanie threatened to fall off of his head and his suit now only a white button up with his dress pants still on.
"I've been running around this goddamn place trying to keep that ram man at peace! He's gonna drink himself to death." Quackity huffed while looking around the hallway.
"I know." 
"That's why you're here huh?"
You sighed at the realization. "Yes it is. I don't want him to drink himself to death. Death isn't what I want."
"Well, it's too late for that." Quackity faced away from you not wanting to look you in the eyes.
You stayed silent until Quackity spoke up again.
"You want me to take you to him? Wanna see him one last time before he dies-"
"Don't say that!" You rolled your eyes 
"Are you fucking kidding me? It's inevitable Y/N! His body is now 70 percent alcohol and his lungs are filled with smoke!" Quackity laughed in disbelief. "I don't want him to die! But its fucking inevitable. Either from someone else or-"
"Himself." You finished his sentence.
"Exactly!" He opened his mouth to speak again but apparently decided against it.
Quackity began to lead you out of the office and down the long hallway you two walked slowly not even knowing where Schlatt was in the whole building. You and Quackity made small talk.
"I hate this. I had to find this liquor and deliver it to him and now I can't find him."
"I came here to try and save him from himself and you're here feeding the problem."
"What else do you want me to do?" He grunted.
"Stop him!"
"If I stop him he's gonna be even worse so-!" Quackity threw up his hands in frustration as you two kept walking.
"I actually have something to tell you." Quackity spoke up after the silence.
"Quackity! Ah there you are!" Schlatt came around the corner behind you both and you turned around to meet the man you both have been looking for stumbling down the hallway.
"Ah you bitch! I thought I told you to leave!"
"Here we go." You rolled your eyes.
"Hey Schlatt! Here's the Liquor you wanted!" Quackity tried to liven up the situation by reaching the bottle out to Schlatt.
"He doesn't need it."
"Yeah I do, who are you to tell me what to do!" Schlatt yelled, not even taking the drink out of Quackity's hand. 
"Schlatt just calm down-"
"No! They made a mistake and they cant even do what I fucking say! They'll keep coming back to me, against my wishes!" Schlatt interrupted Quackity while flailing his arms around.
You stood still not wanting to hear him anymore. Ever since he won the presidential debate the first couple of months he's been sober with only a few drinks here and there. Now he's a full on alcoholic, only damaging himself and his presidency. It's a sad sight to see and you don't want to see it, so you can either run away and know it's still there or fix it and never see it again. 
"Schlatt I want to help." You hesitated before stepping forward.
"Same here Schlatt." Quackity agreed with you.
"You, you! Aren't any help!" He pointed directly at you while trying to keep himself upright. 
"How aren't I any help!?" You yelled back. "I've done everything for you and now you're digging yourself a grave Schlatt!"
"You think you're the best thing ever huh?! Im fucking fine! I can stand on my own two fucking feet!"
Schlatt wasn't standing up straight, he was stumbling either backwards or forward. His body threatened to fall onto the marble floor and he couldn't even stand up straight. His speech was slurring together as well you could barely understand him.
You finally responded to Schlatt. "Schlatt you're stumbling around like- like I don't even know what! I can't understand you and you just need to stop!"
"You're so useless! Not useful to me or my presidency! I can stand up straight and I'm completely fine shut the fuck up!" He yelled while leaning to the side.
"I'd rather die alone! Without you or Quackity." Schlatt yelled again
"That's what you're going to do anyways." Quackity whispered under his breath.
Schlatt kept babbling nonsense as his back slid down one of the walls as he sat on the floor. Head pulled to the side. It was a sad sight to see, you hated to see this man drink himself to death and apparently Quackity, who was looking at the ram man the same way, standing silently next to you.
"Schlatt this-"
"I dont fucking care what you think! You're the worst person I've ever met! You both made my life hell and that's why Im fucking drinking my life away so I wont see any of you're fucking faces!" Schlatt tried to stand up but failed in doing so.
He continued talking. "I am the best thing that happened to this country! I saved both of you from a tyrant! And you thank me by driving me into this state!" 
You felt your eyes threatening to spill tears the second time today.
"Schlatt that isn't me that's doing this shit!" 
"How the fuck would you know?!" 
"I can't. But Ive done every fucking thing for you! You cannot say I haven't!" You yelled back as he rolled his eyes with a rebuttal already on the tip of his tongue.
"Sure as hell I can! I have fucking proof-!"
"What proof?!" You interrupted his babbling even though he kept going.
"I- I!" he stammered not having a rebuttal this time.
"You're incapable of doing anything Schlatt let someone help you for fucks sake-"
"I'd rather die alone than sit here and be lectured by the likes of you!" Schlatt yelled.
"You are going to die alone, old man!" Quackity spoke up. "That's what they're trying to tell you!" 
"You shouldn't be giving me a lecture! Im the mother fucking president! I should be talking, but apparently its not fucking work-" 
"IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" You interrupted him and stomped down the hallway for the second time today.
As you walked down the hallway you heard a faint "wait" from Schlatt on the floor. You stopped and looked back to see Schlatt looking at you with some sort of realization in his eyes. Quackity was standing over him shaking his head.
"You know what? I don't even know why I helped you. Probably for power, but I don't need you for that." Quackity walked away towards your way. "Go ahead and die alone like you said old man." 
Quackity caught your gaze and he smiled and shook his head again. He finally reached where you were standing and started talking to you.
"Maybe this isn't a good time, maybe it is. But I am joining Pogtopia. Wilbur said he needs a lot of people for this to work so consider this an invitation." He gave you a thin lipped smile and walked past you giving you a good look at Schlatt, laying fully on the ground.
"Y/N wait, just hold on for a second." Schlatt said while on his side, not even bothering to look at you.
You didn't say anything and followed Quackity's path, down the hallway and out of the door. Behind you, you could only hear the distant groans and pleas of the drunken man behind you. You tried your best to help and that's all you could do. But you couldn't watch that man die.
Taglist: MCYT Imagines: @annshit @bobaducky @malfoysslutt @alec-lost-bee @egorldevi
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animatedarchives · 4 years ago
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ALMOST IS NEVER ENOUGH
— 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔
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author’s note: hi guys!! this is my angstvember piece for the @babythotshq brokenhearts club playlist collab ^^ i hope yall like it!! <3
genre: a lot of angst
warnings: death, hospitals, mentions of a coma and an accident, illness
word count: 2.9k words
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The sun hung low in the vast amber sky as Oikawa clutched the bouquet of velvet red roses in his hand.
Today’s the day. Today’s the day I tell her I love her.
The sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the pristine white corridors, the smell of rubbing alcohol and disinfectant piercing mercilessly through his lungs. He’d visited you every day since you were admitted, and even then he still never got used to the smell. He couldn’t wait for you to leave this place.
It was your last day here after all.
You were finally going to be discharged.
He stopped right outside your door, bringing his hand up to knock a familiar rhythm. The same one you both had used when you were playing house during your childhood.
“Hey, it’s me,” he said, poking his head into the room.
“I was wondering what took you so long,” you smirked as you watched him close the door behind him. “What’s with all the flowers?” you asked, nodding at the bouquet in his hands.
“What, I can’t surprise my best friend with something nice every once in a while?”
You scoffed. “You’re only nice when you need something from me.”
Oikawa gasped dramatically. “Y/N! How could you be so cruel?” he whined. You let out a small laugh at his theatrics, and he smiled at the way the sound fell so smoothly from your lips. He’d always thought you were so effortlessly beautiful. Your laughter died down and you spared a glance at the clock hanging on the wall opposite your bed.
“Can’t wait to leave?” Oikawa asked. You smiled and shook your head. He was always so attentive to everything you did.
“This place isn’t as bad as you think it is, you know. I think you’re more eager for me to leave than I am,” you teased. Oikawa pouted and you gently poked the side of his cheek. You didn’t press very hard but he absentmindedly leaned against your finger, craving your physical touch.
“What’s the first thing you want to do when we get out of here?” he asked. A strange silence fell as you contemplated your best friend’s question. He watched as you cast your eyes down to your lap where you were picking at your fingers, a habit you had when you were nervous about something. Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong.
“The park,” you spoke softly. Oikawa snapped out of his thoughts as a pang of nostalgia hit him square in the chest.
“I’d want to go to the park,” you said more confidently, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His heart skipped a beat hearing you say it again, the memories from your childhood coming back to him in an unrestrained flood.
“Close your eyes, Y/N!” Oikawa said, watching as you eagerly cupped your hands over your eyes.
“No peeking!” he called behind him before running off to the nearest rose bush. He scrutinised every flower before plucking the one he thought looked the most perfect. You deserved only the best from him, after all. Oikawa quickly returned to the middle of the gazebo where you stood, a new gift in hand.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he said and watched as your orbs lit up with pure delight at the sight of your favourite flower.
“My sister says I’m too young to have a girlfriend but if I told her that if I ever had one… I’d…” Oikawa trailed off but he steeled himself to say it.
“I’d only want it to be you.”
For reasons you had yet to understand, your blood began to pump faster and your stomach started to flutter. Oikawa cheeks turned pink as he slowly extended the flower to you.
“P-promise me that when we grow up, you’ll be my girlfriend and that we’ll be together forever!” he exclaimed, leaving you too stunned to react. “Promise me!” he repeated more earnestly, shaking the rose with growing desperation.
The thought of spending the rest of your life with your best friend was everything you could have dreamed of. You didn’t need to wait for your Prince Charming like the princesses in all the fairytales you’d read.
You had already found him.
“I promise!” you squealed as you grabbed the rose from him to officially seal the deal. “Let’s live happily ever after, okay?” you grinned.
Oikawa’s grip on the bouquet tightened, the crinkling of the plastic wrap sucking him back into reality. He didn’t expect you to remember, let alone want to revisit the place where the pact had been made. His heart leapt into his throat. Wait… Could it be?
“Tooru, I need to tell you something—”
“Y/N, wait,” he cut you off. He wanted to be the first one to say it. He had to be. “Let me say something first. Please.”
Oikawa sucked in a breath, trying to summon the same courage he had mustered all those years ago. He thanked fate for giving him the perfect opportunity to bring it up; it was his intention to tell you by the end of the day anyway. The golden rays of the setting sun streamed softly through the window, bathing the room in a warm orange glow. How romantic.
It was now or never.
“I remember the total despair I felt after being told that you’d been in an accident. You were in a coma for weeks and I came to visit you every day, wondering if you were ever going to wake up. I never brought up the promise we made during our childhood because I didn’t know if you still felt the same way. But after I thought I lost you, the regret I felt far outweighed any other emotion I had. I hated myself for being a coward, because even the slightest possibility of having everything I ever wanted was stripped away from me.”
Oikawa brought the bouquet up, taking in a shaky breath to calm his racing heart. “I don’t want to live with regrets anymore, and I’m not going to leave here today without telling you how I truly feel,” he said, bringing his gaze up to look you in the eyes.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you and I don’t want to take you for granted ever again. We’ve spent our entire lives together and I don’t want it to stop. You’re still the only one I want to be with and…” he trailed off, bracing himself as he finally said his thoughts out loud.
“I still want to spend forever with you.”
The following silence was agonising. Oikawa could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he waited for your answer. All his senses were on edge as he watched your every move. Until finally, a small smile crept onto your lips, causing Oikawa to visibly sigh with relief. You reached out to accept the roses, as well as his confession. Your fingers brushed against his and even that small touch was enough to send his heart into overdrive. He was so completely and utterly in love with you.
“I love you too, Tooru,” you smiled at him, and he felt about a thousand fireworks going off in his chest.
“But…”
Oikawa’s face fell and the fireworks fizzled out as quickly as they were lit.
‘But’? No no no, no ‘but’. Why ‘but’? Everything was going so well, w-why ‘but’?
“There’s something I need to tell you…” you admitted quietly. Your eyes flicked back up at the clock, the setting sun casting a shadow over the room. Oikawa followed your gaze across the room and suddenly, the clock seemed so much more menacing, slowly ticking away like a timebomb counting down to an impending doom.
“You’re right Tooru, I am leaving the hospital today. But I’m not just leaving the hospital… I’m leaving for good.” You finally turned to face him and for the first time that day, he saw you completely unmasked, the despair in your eyes strong and apparent.
“I’m dying, Tooru.”
Oikawa’s chest tightened, and it felt like the air had been forced out of his lungs. Suddenly, it was hard for him to breathe.
“D-dying? What do you mean you’re dying? How much time do you have left?!”
As if to give a cruel answer to his question, your monitor started beeping erratically, forcing your chest to rise and fall until you were practically gasping for air.
None.
“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?!” Oikawa rushed to your bedside, grabbing your frail arms with his large hands. When did you become so thin? Although the sunlight was slowly fading, it was only now that he could see everything with such clarity. It was like he had been given a pair of brand new eyes.
Your face had sunken in, your skin was so much paler and you looked terribly ill. As if on cue, you began to cough, reaching beneath your blanket to reveal a red-stained cloth, the same sickly shade as the roses Oikawa had brought. Had you been hiding this from him? His eyes widened in horror as you coughed heavily into the fabric, pulling it away to fresh splotches of thick, red blood. Oikawa didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even react. He just stood there, rooted to the ground as he watched the love of his life slipping away in front of his very eyes.
“T-Tooru…”
Hearing you say his name in your now hoarse voice clicked something in his brain and he shook himself out of his daze. Oikawa rushed to the doorway to call for help, screaming for someone to rescue his dying friend, but no one was there to listen.
Oikawa panicked and quickly descended into a frenzy. He desperately tried to pour you a glass of water, even though his hands were shaking. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. He frantically tried to get you to drink the water, but all you did was cough it back up. That was when reality finally settled in.
And he completely lost it.
“Please Y/N, please don’t leave me like this! You have to stay so I can finally love you! So we can finally be together and I can finally call you mine! I still have to kiss you, we still have to go on our first date. I… I still want to marry you, to grow old together with you. I still want to journey through the rest of life together with you, all the way from the beginning to the end. We’re supposed to write our love story together, remember?” he cried.
“What’s going to happen to our happily ever after?”
You smiled sadly at him, trying to suppress the coughs that threatened to rip through your throat. You raised your hand weakly and brought it up to cup the side of his face, using your thumb to tenderly stroke his cheek. Oikawa’s eyes began to well up at your sudden affection, the type that he’d always wanted with you. The type that he’d never be able to receive again. He leaned into your touch as tears began to blur his vision.
“Tooru, listen to me,” you spoke quietly. You were always so gentle, so tender and loving.
“I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I remember when you carried me when I scraped my knee at the playground, how you used your favourite alien-patterned plaster to cover it, and then bought me ice cream to cheer me up.”
“I remember when my date ditched me at prom and you found me sulking at the corner of the hall.” You let your hand fall to where he was tightly gripping the rails of your hospital bed and laid your hand gently over his. You felt him relax against your touch, turning his hand upwards and interlacing your fingers with his.
“I remember you asking me to dance, holding my hand in yours as we slow-danced the night away,” you squeezed his hand, smiling as the feeling reminded you of how his hands had felt on you that very night.
“I remember every single moment with you, Tooru. How you held me up when I was crumbling, and promised me that you’d always be there for me. And you were. Because I remember when I woke up from my coma to find you asleep on the side of my bed, tired from staying up and waiting for me to come to. I remember how you hugged me and cried because you almost lost me. I remember how you made me promise to never do that to you again.” Your resolve began to crumble together with your depleting strength as you choked out the next few words.
“I’m sorry that I have to break that promise. Because this time, you’re going to lose me for good.”
Oikawa’s lips trembled as he shook his head in denial, his breathing ragged as hot tears poured from his eyes. Without another word, he leaned down towards you and closed his eyes, gently pressing his lips against yours. It was wet and sloppy, but still as sweet as he’d always imagined it to be. You broke the kiss and held his face in both of your hands.
“I’m sorry I have to say goodbye, Tooru,” you apologised, tasting the saltiness of your tears as they slipped between your lips.
“Don’t. Please,” Oikawa whispered in anguish. “Please don’t say goodbye.”
The wetness from his eyes began to fall onto your cheeks, mixing together with your tears in a concoction of pure sorrow. Your monitor began to beep faster, an incessant reminder of your limited time left together. Frustration began to roil within him.
“We were so close, Y/N,” his lips trembled as he cried. “We were so close to being in love.”
Your eyes welled up with more emotion as the truth of his words pierced right through your heart.
“I know Tooru, I know. But I know you’re going to find someone else one day, and they’re going to give you all the happiness you deserve. All the happiness that I couldn’t give to you. And when you find them, love them with all your heart, okay? Love them like you would have loved me.”
The monitor let out another blaring noise as your pulse began to plummet and the colour drained from your already paper-white face. Oikawa heard footsteps sounding in the hallway, indicating that help — albeit futile — was finally going to arrive.
Oikawa cupped your face as he poured out every emotion into one final kiss. The love for you that he’d harboured for years, the joy and nostalgia from reminiscing your childhood, and the grief of having your romance stripped away, all in a single moment.
Oikawa parted from your lips and proceeded to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your nose. Then back to your lips again. All of the years he’d spent with you he had taken for granted. And since he’d never have the chance to do it again, he might as well do everything he can to write your romance in these last few moments.
“I love you, Y/N. Always have, always will,” Oikawa sobbed.
You smiled and pressed the bouquet he’d bought into his chest, using the rest of your strength to reach up and get one last taste of his sweet lips on yours. You finally reclined back onto the bed, smiling forlornly as the nurses and doctors began to rush in.
“I love you too Tooru, and I’ll always be with you. Until we meet again, my love.”
You smiled and gently squeezed his hand, a tear slipping from your eye right before your monitor flatlined. Oikawa choked on a sob before he stood and gave way to the hospital staff. They hurriedly tended to you, trying to bring you back. But Oikawa knew you were gone. And you were gone for good.
Oikawa clutched the bouquet in his hands as he left the room. His eyes were trained on the ground as he walked out of the cursed hospital, towards the place that had meant so much to him. The place that had first sparked your love.
Pavement slowly gave way to grass and before he knew it, he was standing before the white gazebo, the same one you said you wanted to visit one last time before you left. Oikawa walked up to the centre of the platform, gently laying the bouquet on the ground where you once stood all those years ago.
“I’ll love you forever, Y/N. You’ll always be my one true love.”
Silence was the only response he got, save for the rustling of leaves on that cold, desolate night. The sun had already set, and with it it took away the warmth and any embers of your unfulfilled romance. Inhaling sharply, he turned around and walked away, leaving the roses and all the empty promises they held behind.
Oikawa came to realise that life was no fairytale, and that ‘happily ever after’s with your true love didn’t exist. You could be so close to romance, yet have it ripped out of your grasp in the next second, before you could fully reach it. He cursed fate for mocking him, for giving him a taste of love before taking it all away forever. Oikawa chuckled cynically as he finally accepted how brutal reality truly was.
No matter how close you were to being in love…
Almost was never enough.
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© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.
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stressisakiller · 4 years ago
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As You Wish
Steve Rogers x Reader Soulmate AU
(As you wish Part 2)
Summary: What happens when after moving into Stark Tower you run into a certain Captain
Warnings: None really, fluff, like one cussword a little bit of spice
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Fluffy chapter yay!  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’
<< Previous   Next >>
Life working side by side with Tony was dangerous. When Killian attacked Tony it was you not Pepper who was taken and subjected to the Extremis serum. This caused you to heal crazy fast and gave you super strength, which was pretty cool but not very useful for someone who spent most of their time in a robotics lab trying not to crush something when it wasn't working.
You later discovered that Killian mistakenly believed that you were in fact Tony's soulmate, while you had always thought that it was Pepper. She quickly refuted your claim when you told her, pulling the back of her jeans down enough to show the smiley face that graced her butt cheek. Turns out that her soulmate was none other than Happy the head of security.
��About six months after the battle of new york, after Tony and the whole Killian/Mandarin situation, Tony asked very nicely if you would move into the Avengers tower with him. He needed to get the Avengers tower going, and after everything that happened and his panic attacks, he really didn't want to live there alone. He was also hoping that if you lived in the tower that the avengers would be more willing to as well. By this point you had met and become friends with most of them save for Captain America, he hasn’t been around much. He was trying to find his place in this new world and taking as many missions as Shield will give him in order to feel needed 
The tower was much different this time than the last time you had been there. There was less plastic film and dust everywhere and all of the construction work was done. Most notably, the wall on Stark's living room floor was no longer a gaping hole.
The top eight levels of the tower were for the avengers. The penthouse was where Tony stayed, no surprise there. The level directly below was his lab space which was restricted access for the most part and then there was the common level under that. The common level was composed of a large kitchen and dining area, as well as a massive living room with the biggest tv you had ever seen. This floor also houses a theater, and an arcade room equipped with pool tables and any other game you could think of. Tony is such a child sometimes, not that you were complaining you loved to play pool. The next three floors are where you and the rest of the Avengers would live. You would each get your own suite that you could arrange and decorate however you saw fit. Each suite includes a kitchenette, and small living room that was separate from the bedroom, and a massive ensuite bath. The lowest two levels were dedicated to the training room and medical ward, as well as a giant pool and sauna area, these floors allowed for outside access as long as they were vetted.
Six months later, life in the tower was going well. You, Tony and Bruce, were the main people living there. You could understand that though, Nat and Clint were constantly out on missions for shield and mainly stayed on base in DC. Tony told you that Steve was currently living in an apartment in DC. He didn't want to live on base but he was running missions for Shield on and off. Thor was off-world with Loki so life was pretty quiet. 
 Then there was a mission that the Captain went on that didn’t go the way he thought. He was wounded and brought back a captive. You were in the common area when the door was thrown open and a bloody Steve Rogers burst through carrying a soaking wet girl over his shoulder.
“The Medical wing, where is it?” He questioned voice hard from pain or fatigue or both. 
“This way.” you hurried off, not looking behind you, you knew that he would follow. 
When you arrived, you called for Dr. Cho and Steve told her what was going on and placed the girl on a stretcher. The nurses pushed her to a room to monitor her until she woke up. He was then shown to a separate room to be looked over and have the bullet removed. 
 That night Tony pulled you into the living room to watch your favorite movie, the princess bride. It was about halfway through when an exhausted Steve came through the door and flopped down on the couch beside the one that you and Tony were currently lounging on. It was coming to your favorite part, Buttercup was currently yelling at the Dread Pirate Roberts and about to push him down the hill.
“Oooh,” you said hitting Tony’s shoulder, “I love this part,” you spoke along with Wesley as he rolled down the hill, “As you Wiiiisssshhhh.” you clapped your hands together, “that will forever be the best reveal ever.” 
You didn’t notice Steve’s stare as you said those words. Holy Shit he thought his tattoo finally made sense, and yet the girl that fate said was perfect for him had her legs thrown over Tony’s lap and was leaning against him while watching the movie. He stood quickly and stomped out of the room, today was just not his day. 
 You look over at Tony confused when Steve left.
“What the hell do you think that was about?” you asked, growing more confused as you noticed the smirk on Tony’s lips.
“Why are you smiling like that?” You had to stop yourself from slapping him when he started to laugh.
“What the hell, Stark, tell me what's going on?”
“I think that Capsicle just realized that you're his soulmate.” He said through chuckles.
“What the fuck do you mean he realized that I’m his soulmate?” you asked your whole body going still as you waited for him to elaborate.
“I thought you had realized this earlier,” he said looked genuinely confused, “The captain is your soulmate, I’ve known since we had that movie night after finding him in the ice. Your tattoo is his dog tags with the flower of his birth month and a phrase that I’ve heard him say multiple times while next to him in a fight.”
You just sat there frozen trying to comprehend what exactly the man sitting in front of you was saying. 
“You know, he may be a little jealous that his soulmate was cuddling someone else since he probably doesn’t realize that you're like a sister to me. You should probably go after him.”  His words seemed to break you from your trance as you threw yourself very clumsily from the couch to follow after him.
“Jarvis, where did Rogers go?” 
“He is in the training room miss.”
“Thanks, J”
You ran all the way down, opening the door you were met by the scene of Steve hitting a punching bag so hard that it broke and flew off of its chain.
“You know, I’m not sure that those are made to withstand the punch of a super soldier, maybe I should design one that can,” you said leaning against the wall and trying not to show the fact that your heart was beating a million miles a minute.
“And why would you feel the need to do that, I’m sure Stark has plenty of things that he needs you to design that are more important than a Steve-proof punching bag.” You could tell that he was gritting his teeth as he spoke, reaching for another bag. You step towards him slowly, making sure not to walk too quickly from fear of him leaving.
“Well I’m sure that the great Tony Stark can take care of himself, and anyways, I think creating something to make my soulmate's life easier is more important.”
He slowly pulled his eyes from the punching bag that he was hanging onto the hook to look at you, pain obvious in his eyes.
“Really? Cause you seemed pretty comfortable with him.” you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he spoke, he had gone through so much already.
“Yes really, Tony is more like an annoying older brother than anything. I’ve been working around him for the past five or so years, trust me when I say that I have no desire to date him. You on the other hand.” You made sure that your voice turned teasing on the last words, you wanted to make him smile, you hadn’t gotten to see that yet.
“Well good, cause I think I may have to kick his ass if you did.” You could hear the teasing lilt in his voice and the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. But as quickly as it came it was gone.
“How long have you known?” his voice cracked a little as he spoke. You let out a small huff of a laugh.
“Would you believe me if I told you that Tony had to tell me when I was confused as to why you left the room?” His eyes snapped to yours.
“Really? You didn’t know?”
“After not meeting my soulmate by the time I turned 25 I just pushed it to the back of my mind, I stopped trying to figure out what my tattoo meant and I focused on my work. Plus there were a couple of life-threatening instances that distracted me." You joked. You weren't 100% sure how to handle this situation, your main friend group consisted of a playboy philanthropist and a science nerd that turned into a giant green guy when angry, not really the best people to show you how to be vulnerable.
“I understand that," he said pausing before continuing, "part of my problem was that my tattoo didn’t show up until after I came out of the ice.” he looked down at his hands and you noticed that they were fidgeting, he must be just as nervous as you.
“I didn’t know that,” you murmured, deciding to ask the question that was begging to be asked.
“What is your tattoo, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He shook his head, “Not at all.” he stepped towards you and pulled up his sleeve, and turned out his arm so you could see the flesh just under his armpit. As soon as you saw the tattoo you burst out laughing.
“Of course that’s what my mark is, man I’m such a nerd.” You clutched your stomach as you laughed, tears coming to your eyes from the range of emotions that you are currently going through.
“Can I ask why I have this tattooed on me?” He questioned, clearly curious to the reasoning as to why he had a movie quote on his arm forever. You were finally able to pull yourself together and sober up from the surprise of his tattoo.
“That movie came out the year after I was born and it was my mom’s favorite movie to watch with me, we watched it at least 4 times a year. But we always made sure to watch it on my birthday as a family, it became an integral part of my life, plus it’s just sooo quotable.” you said with a smile, “Do you want to look at my tattoo?” you asked motioning at your arm with your head. He slowly nodded, not able to find the words.
You slowly pulled your sleeve up, showing him the inside of your forearm and the dog tags that graced your skin. He stepped forward gently taking your arm in his hand so that he could study the markings on your skin. Tracing the outline and the words that he could see before smiling.
“What does it mean?” you asked softly looking at him through your lashes.
“It’s um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s my dog tags or at least the lower one is, it says my name, then Captain America and the city I was born in, Brooklyn. The top one however is something that I always seem to say when I’m getting beat up in a fight in order to remind myself that I could do it. And the flower… I think it’s the flower from my birth month? I was born in July so I think it’s a reference to that.” You nodded at his explanation, his fingers still gently tracing over your skin, causing goosebumps to pop up from the feeling.
“So, would you like to watch the movie with me? We can start it over so that you won’t be lost. I know that you struggle with pop culture, old man.” You smirked at him as you spoke, he just rolled his eyes.
“Be careful, this old man could still show you a thing or two.”
You laughed out loud at that, your laugh changed to a squeal when you felt him wrap his arms around your legs and throw you over his shoulder. 
“Ahh, let me down!!” you beat at his shoulders trying to get him to release you but he wouldn’t budge, he just continued to carry you until you ended back in the living room and he threw you down onto the couch. He wasn’t even breathing hard after carrying you up 2 flights of stairs, jerk. 
Tony was nowhere to been seen as you restarted the movie. You ran and grabbed some more popcorn to share, pouring in some M&Ms before plopping back down next to Steve and pulling on your couch blanket. It didn't take long for you to cuddle into his side and for your eyes to droop. 
Steve smiled at you when he realized that you had passed out before you even got to the part he had walked in on earlier. He didn't mind though, he just got comfortable and pulled you in closer before allowing himself to relax and fall asleep. 
Tagged Users: @writerwrites
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julemmaes · 4 years ago
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Love her like she should be loved
Cassian and Nesta Archeron modern au
So, this morning I was scrolling through Tumblr and I saw this post who said “i just want a fic with cassian defending nesta!!! idc what the context even is i just want to see him being offended on nesta's behalf and being ready to throw hands” and I obviously couldn’t resist. The post is this one.
Nesta is not really present in this specific part, if you want more of this au you can always send an ask (and a prompt if you want) and yall know I would continue this without hesitation. Hope you enjoy, as always:)
Word count: 3,266
His day was not going well.
He was supposed to give an analysis exam that morning, but the professor had not warned any of the students that he wouldn’t show up because of something personal. After an hour in which they waited, one of the secretaries of the university came to inform them that no test would be held, Cassian just wished he was dead. In addition, he had spent the entire afternoon serving at Elain's small café and now he was exhausted. Especially since he had to argue with an old lady who insisted on ordering something that wasn't on the menu.
Sometimes the girl would ask him to help her, when it happened that the staff was not available and the customers were much more numerous than one would expect on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Cassian didn't mind, he would have nothing better to do anyway. With his part-time job at a bookstore and his classes at the university, he found it hard to have days to himself and never made plans unless he was sure he could get them done. Then, however, a little extra money would help.
He had just arrived at the door of the apartment he shared with his two brothers when he heard Morrigan's shrill voice, followed by Feyre's loud laugh.
Shit, he had completely forgotten that they were all going to be home tonight.
Puffing, he opened the door and as soon as he walked in he was welcomed by the exalted cheers coming from the living room. He closed his eyes, grimacing. They were all already drunk. He heard Rhysand calling out to him and, taking off his shoes very slowly, went to the others.
"There he is! Fucking finally," shouted Mor, lying halfway down on Amren's legs, "You took your time. Ellie said you left the shop more than two hours ago, where have you been?" she asked with shiny eyes because of the alcohol. Cassian took a look at the others and saw that the only one who seemed to be still sober was Azriel, but looking at the glass in his brother's hand he knew he wouldn't be like that much longer.
He moved his gaze back to the blonde and shook his head, "Taking a walk." he simply replied, then ran a hand over his face, "Well guys, I'm going to sleep. I would kindly ask you to keep it down, but I know it's impossible, so if you could not drag it out too long, you would do me a favor."
Rhysand burst out laughing and Cassian turned to him, noticing only now that Feyre was curled up on his lap, "I don't think so. You haven't partied with us in almost a week." Azriel made a sound of approval, whispering a faint true, "We miss you," he added, sulking.
Cassian snorted again, they were right. Actually, he hadn't been on the couch to have a drink with his friends for over a week, but there was a very specific reason. And the reason was called Nesta.
It had been five very long months and keeping their relationship hidden was starting to get tough.
"Listen," began Cassian, trying to find a way to escape it one more time and go to sleep. "I'm very happy that you only have three classes a day and then you can come here and get shit-faced, but-"
"Oh come on, my sister's coming later too." Feyre interrupted him, slurring her words. "We could play Risiko, with your rules. Would you stay in that case?"
He knew very well that it wasn't Nesta. No, it couldn't have been her. They never invited her. And he wasn't in the mood to play Drunken Risiko at all.
Cassian glanced at her involuntary, clenching his jaw and starting to walk backwards towards his room. "I repeat, I'm very pleased that you still have so much time to lose in these things, but tomorrow I have to work all day and I'm exhausted."
Armen scoffed, "God it's like hearing her sister," said the friend looking him straight in the eye, pointing with her chin to Feyre, who had tightened even more on her boyfriend. Cassian stopped at the living room door, looking at Amren in turn. Feyre nodded, with her eyes closed, "It's true, she’s been a bit of a bitch lately.”
As Feyre spoke, Cassian saw the image of Nesta smiling at him as she sat on her kitchen island, telling him he was an idiot.
Rhysand chuckled and leaned his head against the back of the armchair, "Take the 'a bit' away."
"The other day I met her at the mall and, like any sane person would do, I went to say goodbye to her and she just looked at me and left," Morrigan said, settling better on the couch, in what everyone in their group called the gossip pose. Legs bent under her body and a glass of red wine in her left hand.
Cassian wanted to leave, but couldn’t move. That was the reason why he hadn't been able to go out with his friends in the last few days: whatever they did, in one way or another, they were able to drag Nesta into the conversation and talk shit about her.
"I just can't figure out what's wrong with her," said Rhys, looking annoyed by what Morrigan had just told them. Cassian remained silent. He didn't want to argue with his family and it would have been avoided if he had simply left.
Feyre stood up to pour herself another glass of wine. She sat down next to Amren, resting her head on her friend's shoulder, "I really wish I knew that."
It would be enough if you talked to her from time to time, thought Cassian, crossing his arms on his chest. He caught Azriel's gaze for a second and saw that his older brother was watching him attentively. Too attentively for his liking. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking what he wanted. Azriel was about to open his mouth when the doorbell rang. Everyone's attention sprang towards the door.
"It must be Elain," said Azriel as he stood up, "hopefully she's not as dead as someone else is tonight," he said, making a snide remark to Cassian, who took advantage of the moment to turn on his heels and go to sleep. Elain wouldn’t have been offended if he didn't say hi.
As soon as he closed the door to his room he took a deep breath.
He undressed and lay down on the bed without worrying too much about getting under the covers. He let his hair loose, letting it fall on the pillow and then he starred at the ceiling. He picked up the phone shortly after and opened the gallery, starting to scroll through the photos in the folder called books' stuff.
Rhysand had a nasty habit of taking his cell phone and looking through his stuff and this was the only way to make sure he didn't see the hundreds of photos he had of Nesta and himself.
He thought about the last half year they had spent together.
He thought about how almost five months earlier Nesta had felt sick while she was alone with him and how she thanked him when he was able to calm her down and how she ran away soon after.
He thought of himself, losing whole nights of sleep thinking about what to do, whether to try to talk to her about what had happened or whether to let it go.
He thought of when Nesta had insulted him when he had given her the number of his therapist and when after talking to her for hours about his personal problems Nesta had looked at him with a completely different expression on her face.
He thought about when she had refused his therapist's number again, but promised him she would seek help.
After a month, she asked him if he wanted to go out with her. On a date. Cassian was a bit shocked at the invitation, convinced that Nesta was not looking for anything serious at the time. He had accepted regardless and this had led to several other dates, before they made it official about two months later.
Neither her sisters nor his brothers suspected a thing and both were inclined to keep it a secret. Nesta had had no problem doing so, as she hardly ever went out with the group, there was no risk of it slipping out of her mouth. For Cassian it was something else entirely. Especially in the last period.
Nesta was going through a very difficult period and Cassian was always nervous, on edge, ready to do whatever Nesta needed. While their families did nothing but insult his girlfriend.
There had been days when Cassian, worried that Nesta hadn't answered him for hours after calling him desperate because of something that had happened at work, nearly broke down. He had run to her apartment that time and Nesta had not opened the door. He had almost called Feyre to ask her for the spare key, but he managed to convince Nesta to let him in.
They had spent two days in her bed together, Cassian making up a stupid excuse with his brothers for not being home.
His flood of thoughts was interrupted when he heard the others laughing.
He put the phone on the bedside table again and lay down on his side, trying not to listen to what they were saying in the other room.
It proved impossible.
"Have you heard from Nesta lately?" Feyre asked. Cassian brought the pillow over his ears, but it was of no use. "No, not really. She doesn't even answer the phone," answered Elain.
"Yeah no, because I ran into her the other day while I was shopping and she didn't even say hello." Mor repeated in that shocked tone.
Cassian loved everyone in that house so terribly, but if they had continued like that, he would have had to go out.
"I really don't understand how she can behave like that." a little pause, "I've tried so many times to get her to do something with me, but every time she insults me and tells me to mind my own business." Cassian knew about Feyre's various attempts to help her sister. Nesta had told him about all the times she had tried to force her to dress up in a certain way so she could go dancing and meet some guy. Of all the times Feyre had told her that she needed a holiday, that they could go together to places like Adriata or on the south coast, where the beaches were populated with life and people their age.
"God that girl really gets on my nerves," said Rhysand. Cassian wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.
"I feel sorry to even talk about her like this, but there are times when I can't understand why she hates me so much." Feyre spoke again. Cassian scoffed, knowing full well that she didn't feel sorry at all. Elain replied, "Oh no, Fey-Fey, don't feel bad. She's the one who gets away from everyone."
"But does she realize that if she continues like this she will die alone and sad?" this comment broke something inside Cassian's chest. Even more so because it was Mor who had said those words.
"Maybe she deserves it. With how she treats you, she doesn't even deserve you looking after her in this way".
"Maybe you are right. Every time I try something new, she pushes me further and further. It makes me feel like a bad sister," continued Feyre, in a lower voice than before.
"See? It also makes you feel bad. She's just a selfish bitch who seeks attention," concluded Rhysand.
Cassian couldn't take it anymore and got out of bed, slamming the door against the wall when he opened it.
"Cassian-"
When he entered the living room Mor looked at him with wide open eyes. She had got up and was coming towards him when he raised his hand to stop her.
"Shut up!" he shouted as he looked at Rhysand immediately afterwards. "Repeat what you said." he challenged him, keeping his distance. They were all looking at him in shock. His breathing ragged.
"Cass...what's going on?" asked Elain, getting up and standing next to Mor.
"I said shut up," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on his younger brother. "Again, repeat what you just said."
Rhysand looked at him with blurred eyes. Perfect, he was completely drunk, "Calm down man, we were just talking about Nesta." He looked at him frowning, "What's wrong with you?" said Rhys getting up and stiffening, staggering slightly. Azriel stood up in turn, shifting his gaze quickly from one brother to another.
Cassian contracted his jaw, clenching his fists.
"Why are you so upset?" asked Feyre, always sitting, probably too drunk to stand. Cassian looked at her and took a deep breath. Feyre looked at Amren as soon as she burst out laughing.
Everyone’s focus shifted to the girl, who looked like she was about to be sick from all the laughter. Mor kept looking at him though and he just wanted to tell her to stop staring.
"Why are you laughing?" Rhysand asked, even more confused than before.
Amren wiped her tears away, "It’s so fucking obvious that Cassian and Nesta are dating at this point that I really don't know how you haven't figured it out yet."
Cassian looked at her with his mouth wide open, "How...?"
"You have no idea how much of an open book you are for those who know where to look." replied Amren without even glancing at him.
"I was waiting for you to tell me about it." Azriel confessed in a low voice. Cassian turned toward him, frowning. Azriel raised his hands as a sign of surrender, shaking his head, "You have hardly been home for a long time, and perhaps I should have asked earlier, but I had my suspicions for a while." he smiled at him, "Well, congratulations." Azriel said, tilting his head and drinking a sip of beer. A toast. Cassian felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
A weight that fell on him once again when he heard a choked laugh on the other side of the sofa.
"Congratulations? Azriel, are you serious?" Rhysand asked incredulously, passing his hand over his face.
Feyre and Elain were looking at each other in dismay.
"How can you think of getting with-" Mor was staring at him with her mouth open. "-shit, with Nesta? How can you be with such a person?"
Cassian saw red with anger. "Such a person you say?"
Rhysand approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Yes Cass, such a person. You know that she has no emotions other than disgust and hatred." Cassian moved to avoid his brother's touch. Disgust. Hate.
He saw Nesta smiling at him with one of his T-shirts on, lying in her bed, whispering I love you.
Cassian shook his head. "I really can't tell if you're joking or being serious when you talk about her." he whispered not being able to believe what they were saying. "Nesta, your sister," he said, addressing directly the two Archeron present, "is not doing good."
Elain had the decency to seem surprised. Feyre looked at him with shining eyes, whether it was alcohol or emotion he couldn't tell.
"Nesta is sick and the only thing you can do," he pointed out, "is to sit and drink and insult her until you feel satisfied with yourself.
"We've tried so many times to intervene," Feyre defended herself, in a small voice. She put her hands between her thighs. Cassian laughed and threw his hands to the sky.
"Intervene? Intervene, really?" he asked her sarcastically. He laughed again, no trace of amusement in that sound. "You mean when you went to her house, a few weeks ago, and yelled at her because she didn't want to go out with you and she answered you badly when you told her she had to stop being depressed?" now he was shouting. "Or when you told her that she sucked as being a sister and that she should be a better example for you and Elain?" Feyre held her breath, shutting her eyes.
Cassian turned to the other girl, "And you?" he asked her, a false smile on his lips, "Jesus, Ellie, I see you treating the rest of the world with gloved hands every day. You talk to people as if they were wounded animals and it never occurred to you that your sister might be the only one who really needs it?"
He no longer knew who he was talking to as he raised his voice further and started walking around the room. "If instead of telling her what to do, every day. You always say, say, say, try for once and ask for fuck’s sake. If for once you asked instead of doing whatever the hell you want. It would be enough if you were more interested in what she wants to do and less in what you would like her to do" his head was pounding.
He turned to Rhysand at the end. He gritted his teeth, a grimace of repulsion on his face. "You disgust me the most." his voice broke.
"Cassian-" Azriel got in the way.
"No, Az." as he looked at his older brother he thought that he too was no less. He had never said anything about Nesta, never, but he had never even stopped the others or tried to justify the behavior of the older Archeron.
"You were sick once." Cassian said, as he approached Rhysand. He looked at him raising his chin, breathing heavily. "You were sick and I helped you. You treated me the way Nesta treats her sisters. You treated me worse," he whispered, referring to when he and Rhysand ended up beating each other, because Cassian had pushed him over the edge, "You know what she's going through better than anyone probably does, and yet you're the first one to throw shit at her." Rhys looked towards Feyre. "You don't even know her. And yet you’re ready to act like your dad.” Rhys’ eyes shot to him, any trace of color draining from his face. Cassian knew he’d just hit the right spot.
"And you Mor." He turned to his oldest friend. "You're better than that. You all are." he said to no one in particular.
He closed his eyes and ran both hands over his face.
"None of you ever tried to ask her how she was. None of you have ever made an effort. A real effort." he whispered, with anger coursing through his veins. "I get that Nesta can be difficult at times, but we are the only thing she has. The only thing she should have at least."
with that, he left, going to his room. He got dressed quickly, put on his shoes and grabbed the car keys. Before he left he turned towards the quiet living room, where everyone was staring at one another.
"Perhaps it would be better for us all if we searched our own hearts," he said, opening the door, "If something happens, send me a message. At least now you know where to find me."
Rhysand opened his mouth to talk, probably to apologize, but Cassian had already closed the door behind him.
acotar taglist (if you want to be removed or added, let me know with a dm or an ask) (I also tagged the people who seemed interested in the comments of the original post, I’ll just tag you for this part)
@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nxssian @lovelynesta @maastrash
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kazuichis-whore · 3 years ago
Text
Gundham x male!reader
Warnings: Death
Summary: Ya trying to get a date with Gundham <3
Sunflower Seeds
This takes place after the second class trial
You have had your eye on Gundham since you've all arrived at the island. Ever since the free times you've had, you always spent them with Gundham. If not Gunham, then Kazuichi, which made Kazuichi a bit upset since all I did was talk about Gundham, and Kazuichi wasn't really fond of him. Since the killings have started to happen, you've only grown closer to him and his 'Dark Devas of Destruction'. This wasn't the best for your heart, many times you thought it would explode when you were close to Gundham.
You see, you'd love to confess to Gundham, but you weren't entirely sure if he was into guys even in the slightest. You could just walk up to him and ask "Hey are you gay? Bi maybe?", but that is too straightforward and weird. So you settled on just keeping these feelings to yourself and just being a close friend of his. That is until Chiaki caught on to me.
It was a cool morning and everyone was either waking up or already heading to the restaurant. You had barely got out of your cottage before Chiaki got in your face.
"Hey, (Y/N). Can I ask you something? In private...", you hated that term, 'in private'. It usually meant that something bad was going to happen, but you trusted that Chiaki wouldn't say or do anything weird.
"Uhm... Sure. Come in" I moved aside so Chiaki could enter. She immediately cornered me. "Do you like Gundham?" She seemed so confident in the question. I was shocked and frozen, I studdered before I even got out a comprehensive sentence. "Whawhawahaa?! How... How did you know? Am I that obvious..?" She backed off with a soft smile. "No, it took me a while to figure it out. Your really good at hiding your romantic feelings. Anyway, Akane and I want to help you and Gundham get together."
"Thanks, Chiaki, but how are you two gonna do that??" There's no way that they could set us up, right? Dumb question. "Akane already found out Gundham is bisexual, but he only likes people he's known for a while and is close to, so you definitely have a chance with him. All I need to do now is convince him to go to the beach with you." What "Wait wait wait, how did you find out he's bi?" "Akane just asked and he was fine with answering" Of course they just asked.
"We can have you and Gundham meeting up at night and Akane and I could set up some lights in the sand and a picnic" Chiaki looked up as she was thinking out loud. "But what about Monomuka? We aren't allowed to be out of the hotel resort after 10 pm." She just smiled, "I'll appeal. He enjoys teen romance so there's a good chance that he'll let us all be out after the curfew", "How do you know he likes teen rom-", "That's not important right now, meet with Gundham at the beach around 10:30 pm." She seemed so determined. I agreed and we both made our way to the restaurant together
Of course, we were a little late. Gundham was the first to notice us, I think he was staring at the door... "The rest of the mortals are here." God his voice was hot. Kazuichi looked over at us "Finally! Gundham and Akane were about to go looking for you guys!" Man, did we take that long? oh. my. god. What the FUCK is that? I was about to say something before I saw this hideous tribute to our recently deceased friend, Mahiru. I was going to say something rude about it before Hajime grabbed my attention. He was signaling for me to be nice about it and that Hiyoko made it. I spoke with an unsure voice "Wooww that looks so coolll. Whoever made that is verryyy talented.". Hiyoko seemed to be satisfied with it. Good because that's all I got in me.
I made my way over to a table so I can eat. Gundham glanced over at me and continued to eat at his own table. It was a quiet morning, everyone must have still been tired. After we had all finished and left, I went to the supermarket to get some sunflower seeds for Gundham. Yesterday he helped me with a cow attack at the barn, so I wanna try to pay him back. It was a good thing he was looking for me anyway.
I still had some free time after I came back from getting the sunflower seeds. I decided to look for Gundham since I knew he was free most of the time. When I finally found him he was talking with Chiaki and Akane at Jaberwok Park, they must be talking to him about going to the beach with me. That also means I need to find someone else to talk to, I get really bored if I'm by myself for too long. I could either look for Kazuichi and look for things he can take apart or just go annoy Fuyuhiko. I'll look for Kazu, I don't feel like hearing boss baby yell at me.
I walked to the 3rd island and was on my way to Electric Ave. since that's become Kazu's new hangout. When I got there he was already digging around looking for anything to fidget with. Kazu is a nervous guy, so I understand if he wants something to with his hands constantly.
"Hey, Kazo! What 'cha lookin for today?" I asked as I leaned over his shoulder to see what he's grabbing. "Anything really. Although it would be nice to find something to corrode the cameras that Monokuma put everywhere. Hey, have you seen some yellow wires anywhere?" He stopped whatever he was doing to look at me. "No, but I think I saw some orange ones by the old game consoles", I pointed to the pile not too far away from me. "No no no, It has to be yellow, orange won't work with my current project." He went back to rummaging. "What are you working on?" I turned my head to the side, it's a bad habit. "I'm trying to make a phone, so we can call someone or something. At least be able to play some mobile games so I'm not so bored all the time." He was still digging around.
"Ok then, see ya! I'm gonna go find Chiaki or Akane, whoever comes first." I said turning away. All I heard was a very faint 'bye' from Kazuichi, he probably wasn't listening. Oh well, at least he said bye. I walked back to the resort where our cottages are. I must have lost at least 30 pounds from all the walking between islands. As I was walking past the farm, I saw Akane. I walked up to her to ask about Gundham and if he was going to the beach. "Heyyyy Akaneeee!" I tried to strike up a conversation since I'm not very good at it. "Oh, what's up (Y/N)?" She definitely knows how to match someones energy. "Sooo what did Gundham say?" I asked, slightly bouncing from excitement. Akane just deadpans "What?". "About the beach! What did Gundham say about going to the beach with me?". "OOOHHH, he said he'll go with ya, but you have to not force him to swim with you. Something about him poisoning the water from his skin? I don't really know, I wasn't really listening". "Oh, that's fine! I won't force him!" I beamed.
"By the way, he said he wants to talk to you about something. He's at his cottage if you wanna talk to him right now." Akane seemed to not be interested in anything she's saying. She probably agreed to help Chiaki only because she was bored. "OK! Thank you, byeee!" I turned around and hightailed out of the barn.
As I was making my way towards the resort gate, I heard Sonia scream at the supermarket. I left the gates and started booking towards the market. When I finally got there, I didn't see her anywhere. I started calling out to her and poking around every crevice of the store. When I finally found her, she was just standing in the back, perfectly fine from what I could see. "Sonia oh my god! What happened? I heard you scream, are you ok?" I was panting from the running and looking. She looked at me with a pang of guilt in her eyes. "I am sorry for scaring you (Y/N), but thank you for taking the time to find me." She looked down at her shoes. "Well yea of course, but why did you scream?" I tilted my head to the side again. "I am terribly sorry (Y/N), but I have a kingdom to lead and I need to get back, I'm sure you understand. Right?" She slowly started walking towards me. I saw a screwdriver in her hand, It looks like....Kazuichi's! How did she even get his screwdriver? Oh what am I thinking, she probably just asked for it while batting her lashes and Kazuichi just gave it to her.
I started to walk backward until I was fully against the door. I quickly started to feel for a handle and scrambled out, back to the isles. As I was running towards the door, I felt a stabbing pain at the back of my head. After, my body felt numb, as if I couldn't control it. I fell. The last thing I heard was the door opening, it was Gundham. "Hello? I heard a scream so- (Y/N)!!" I really hope he finds the sunflower seeds in my pocket. At least the last thing I saw was Gundham.
Mod Jax: HAH, yall probably thought you were gonna have a nice beach date with Gundham. Foolish. You don't get to have a happy ending. Anyway, this took a while ahaha. MAYbe I'll make a version where ya survive and get yer beach date, maybe I won't, idk yet. BUUUUT there is a 90% that I make a part 2 where it's the trial for your murder.
Todays message that ya probably need to hear
You're not responsible for someone else's mental health, fuck with yourself before you fuck with someone else
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mizumelona · 4 years ago
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opuntia | sakusa x reader
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PAIRING: timeskip!sakusa x gn!reader
PREMISE: It's no secret that Sakusa Kiyoomi is a prickly person. More than that he's a particular person. He hates careless people, messy people, and most of all he hates crowds. The last thing he expected was to develop a soft spot for a rando who thriving at the center of attention at a party his teammates forced him to go to. Cut to pining, jealousy, and maybe even compromising his touch aversion.
NOTES: Got the idea for this series at 3am last night and immediately wrote it down. Haven’t written for a while, so I might be a bit rusty, but I hope yall still enjoy this!
MASTERLIST
01. A Party? Really? | NEXT
The walk home after Sakusa's middle school volleyball game was quiet, just how he liked it. His team had won and all the coaches came up after to complement his spikes. His parents were out of town again and didn't see him play, but that was fine. As long as he knew he was getting better, that was all that mattered.
"Congrats on the game today. You were so cool!"
Sakusa jolted at the sound of the voice. He turned to see an unfamiliar kid wearing the same school uniform walking a few steps behind him.
"Ah sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just moved here and happened to see some of your game at the volleyball courts earlier and my house is in the same direction so..."
They trailed off and he nodded.
Tentatively they spoke up again. "Is it okay if I ask for your name?"
"Sakusa", he bluntly replied.
They smiled a bit at that. "What a cool name. I'm—"
~
Sakusa missed the days when he was surrounded by people who were actually considerate, or at least would act like they were unlike these dumbass MSBY teammates who had the audacity to drag him to a house party. Sure they were excellent volleyball players. He'd been getting along well with them recently, which is why he let his guard down but now look where it got him.
He frowned at the intrusive bass that vibrated through the floor of whoever's house this was. They'd only been here for five minutes but Bokuto and Hinata had already pulled a crowd while having a dance battle. Idiots. He couldn't even be bothered to roll his eyes.
Sakusa shuffled toward the edge of the room. The only reason he came along in the first place was because they said it was just going to be a small gathering with great food, but they arrived to a crowded house with tons of booze but not much else. He couldn't even drink because he was on his in-season health regimen. He was honestly most upset at himself for getting into this situation. Sakusa clicked his tongue.
As he scanned the room, his gaze landed on another group of people clustered around someone. The person was animatedly telling a story and as they hit the punchline, the whole crowd bent over and laughed. He couldn't imagine what it must feel like to be the life of the party, and he frankly didn't want to either. As he thought this, the person noticed at him staring then hesitated for a moment before shooting over a bright smile. Sakusa averted his eyes. Yeah, he definitely couldn't relate.
"Oh my gosh. Is that Sakusa from the Black Jackals??"
Shit.
"Is it really him?"
Bad news. He started shrinking away from the direction of the voices.
For some reason he couldn't figure out, recently fans had singled him out as the most eligible bachelor on his team. Being swarmed by fangirls is the last thing he wanted. Why couldn't they go bother someone who actually wanted their attention? Bokuto would be thrilled.
Sakusa tried to sneak out the back door, but it was already too late. A stylish girl had already thrown herself in his path, while some of her friends giddily watched from the sidelines.
"Hey. You're that famous player from the Black Jackals, right? So great to have you at my party."
She put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched, though she didn't seem to notice. He scowled under his mask and grumbled under his breath.
Just as he was about to rather rudely push her off, someone cut in.
"Ami! This party is amazing!"
Ami finally took her arm off of him, as the person with the sunshine smile from before ran up to her for a hug. As they embraced, his mystery savior shot him a wink before nodding toward the door.
Sakusa wasn't sure what their deal was, but he wasn't about to turn down an opportunity for escape and made a beeline out to the back yard. He stumbled out to a secluded spot and sighed, then looked at the shoulder of his jacket and grimaced. He was about to search for his disinfectant when he realized that Bokuto had rushed him into the party so quickly, he'd forgotten his bag in the car. Just great.
A voice called out to him teasingly, "You know you've gotta let them know if they're making you uncomfy"
~
Sakusa glared at you.
"Okay okay. Didn't mean to press you about it."
You noticed the way he'd been glowering at his jacket before, and reached to pull something out of your bag. "Need some wet naps?"
He paused before answering, "Sure"
You handed him the pack of disinfectant wipes, and he quietly thanked you then went to work cleaning the shoulder of his jacket. He made to hand the pack of wipes back, but you stopped him.
"You can keep it. I tend to get sick easily so I have a ton of these sitting around anyways"
He raised his eyebrows then tucked the wipes in his pocket. "Pretty careless of you to go around hugging people then"
You chuckled, "Ah it's okay. It's not so serious that I can't spare a hug now and again, and anyways you looked like you were in a pinch."
He scoffed in response. Then thought for a second before following up "Thanks for the napkins but don't get your hopes up you thought this was going to lead to something romantic. I'm not interested."
You snickered, "Pfft, see that's what you have to do when people approach you like earlier, but yes noted."
Seeing that he was done, you waved goodbye and turned to head back into the party
~
Sakusa finally managed to drag Bokuto out to unlock the car so he could grab his stuff and escape. He realized his house wasn't actually that far away and decided to leave his teammates behind and walk home.
He was almost back to his apartment when he noticed that another pair of footsteps had been following him for a while. He jerked around found himself face to face with the sunshine-smile-wet-nap person from before.
If it was a rando fan then they might have snapped, but since you lent him the wipes earlier he tried to be ever so slightly more respectful as he called back, "Why are you following me? Don't tell me you're actually a stalker?”
They scratched their head and had a sheepish smile as they replied, “Ah. Sorry didn't mean to bother you but my apartment is on the next block over.”
"That doesn't make sense. That's where my apartment is, and I've never seen you before."
"Yeah. I actually just moved here this week.", they stopped and pulled out a key. "If you don't believe me you can follow me to my door and see if this key works. You can call security if it doesn't"
Sakusa sighed and went back to walking. They soon followed after him. He appreciated how they respected the silence and didn't force him to make small talk.
He snuck a peek at them as they both walked down the street. At the party, he'd taken them to be the loud and obnoxious type, but now that they'd left they had a serene ambiance about them. It was like their demeanor had completely shifted to suit the moment.
"You're staring again", they called out playfully.
"Hmph", he ignored their comment, but they didn't seem to mind.
He was starting to get a little concerned as they got off the elevator on the same floor as him. It was going to be such a pain if he really had to call security.
Two doors before his apartment he noticed their steps come to a halt. Sakusa paused to look back at them and their face softened into a smile. It was still warm, but it was more measured than the one they gave people at the party.
They slid their key in and pushed open the door. "Guess this is where we part for the night."
He nodded in response and was about to continue home when they warmly called out. "See you around Sakusa"
He paused. "You know me?"
"Everyone does", they casually replied and slipped into the apartment.
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consumedkings-archive · 4 years ago
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WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.
chapter eight: the living sea of waking dreams
word count: 10k
rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.
warnings: emotional manipulation/some weird humiliation tactics (joseph is a fucker), some weird/uncomfortable relationships getting dredged up, john is a jealous little shit. some spooky scaries go on, blood and body horror (i think? tagging just to be safe).
notes: we've got some ~things~ going on here in this next chapter. i feel really excited about where this story is going and how we're going to get all these little threads put together, but mostly, i hope you enjoyed this chapter! we've got a lot going on but i promise, it will all (hopefully) be worth it in the end. and also, a tiny reprieve: some soft elliot, as a treat, because we deserve it.
thank you to everyone reading and giving me your feedback!! i love hearing from yall <3 special thanks to @shallow-gravy​ and @vasiktomis​​ for listening to me slog through this chap : ))))
“Knock-knock!”
Isolde took in a deep breath, closing her eyes and willing patience to the forefront of her mind. It had only been an hour or so since she’d left the chapel, Joseph’s words ringing in her head, a death knell.
Not after the things I’ve done for you.
Even still, even now—he knew how to get under her skin. She thought she’d never wanted to kiss and throttle someone in equal amounts, in the entirety that she had known them; to think that once, she had let Joseph take her in an embrace, sweep the hair from her shoulder and bury his face in her neck and whisper sweet things into her skin.
He wasn’t the same, anymore. And neither was she.
“Come in, Santiago,” said Arden, from where she had set up her little space across the cabin’s modest room. The heater on the floor rattled laboriously, clicking and chugging away. Isolde swept her eyes over Arden’s space—a small makeshift bed on the couch, the table stacked with a few books and a notepad she was scribbling dutifully on. Isolde had politely offered her the bed, even though she didn’t want to, and the woman had waved her off and said it was no trouble at all, that she often fell asleep on the couch at home anyway.
It was still weird, thinking that someone was—with Jacob. For a long time. But, she supposed if there was any Seed boy she thought would be in a long-term relationship, then—
The door to the cabin swept open, revealing the dark-haired boy from before. Well, perhaps not boy, but young man. Certainly too young and good-looking to be wasting his time with the likes of Eden’s Gate, wasn’t he?
“You don’t have to babysit me anymore, do you?” Arden asked, not once looking up from her writing.
“No, no. Unfortunately, our time together has drawn to a close.” Santiago lifted his arms, spread in defeat. His eyes, a vibrant blue, turned to Isolde. “I am actually here for you.”
“Me?” Isolde’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”
“Joseph has asked me to fetch you.”
“And you’re a good boy, so you do whatever he says,” she replied tartly.
Santiago flashed a grin that was all teeth-pearly, perfectly bleached teeth. He was far more groomed than any of the others she’d seen trawling about the compound. “I am nothing if not loyal, princesa.”
Isolde sighed, passing a hand over her face as a headache began to fester and bloom behind her eyelids. She thought she might have been more willing to kick up a fuss if she thought it was worth the drama—but it probably wasn’t. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Joseph was right; she couldn’t be of any help to them if she was being contrary just for the sake of her own spite. Even if she didn’t know where Joseph got off summoning her like she was part of the peasantry.
“Coming,” she sighed, picking her coat up off the bed and sliding it back on over her shoulders.
“A sweet word, coming from even sweet lips.”
“Alright, Romeo.”
She trudged out after Santiago in the snow, casting a quick glance around the compound. Though evening had fallen, the fluorescents surrounding lining the edges of the compound cast a cold, brutal light across it, highlighting every single pore of the place, every ragged inhabitant shuffling into their bunkhouse as watch switched and folks went to retire for the evening. Some of the roofs sagged with the weight of the snowfall, which trundled on without any kind of end in sight. Isolde couldn’t remember when she’d seen real, unadulterated sunshine last. In Georgia? Had it been that long?
None of it was anything like what John had told her. Of course, she had expected some differences—the man liked to embellish, to be sure—but the members of Eden’s Gate seemed to have lost their fire. They were wayward, adrift at sea, among waves of freezing cold water and what now seemed to be a resurgent threat that they had hoped to be rid of.
And Joseph, having comforted them so very little.
“Icy,” Santiago warned, offering her his hand as he opened the door inside with his other one. “Careful.”
“Thanks,” she muttered dryly. She took his hand anyway, pulling herself into the sputtering warmth of the chapel where—at the front—the silhouettes of Jacob and Joseph stood.
The two of them were suffused in a warm amber glow, but there was nothing warm about the mood in the room; the closer she got, she could hear Jacob’s insistent words—the firm, assertive gestures of his hands, the words, just didn’t feel like it was pertinent at the time, coming out of his mouth—the more she thought, I shouldn’t be here for this. Whatever they’re arguing about, whatever it is that’s gotten them to this point, I’m not supposed to be here.
Joseph didn’t respond to whatever it was that his brother was saying, but instead turned to look at her as she approached down the center aisle of the chapel. Despite the rattling warmth coming from several heaters placed throughout the chapel, Isolde felt a chill sink deep into the marrow of her bones.
“Thank you for coming,” he said by way of greeting. He lifted one hand and beckoned her forward when her feet slowed.
“I just hope this is something I need to be here for,” Isolde ventured cautiously, her gaze flickering to Jacob’s face. The redhead’s expression was drawn tight and hard, and not the way it normally was; it wasn’t calm and focused, but strained, like he was holding himself back from saying something to Joseph that he thought he might regret later.
She had never known Jacob to bite his tongue very much, but from her own experience with Joseph, well—he was apt at bringing out the worst in people.
“Did you know?” Joseph asked when she had finally come to a stop. “About my brother’s...” He wet his lips for a moment, his gaze darting across the empty space of the floor as he looked for the word he wanted to say. And then he landed: “Pursuits?”
Isolde blinked. “If you mean the woman he says is his partner—”
“Yes,” the blonde interjected, before she could finish—a thing he knew that she hated but he seemed unable to refrain from doing. “I do.”
Sol’s eyes narrowed. When she turned her gaze from Jacob to Joseph, she was greeted with the typical unreadable expression; as untroubled as the blue sky over a sunny sea.
But there were storm clouds. Somewhere, in there, on a horizon Joseph would not let her reach now and perhaps had not ever.
“I only knew of her today,” Isolde replied after a moment. “After we saw our little hunter out in Fall’s End, I imagine he felt it pressing that he retrieve her sooner rather than later.”
Joseph made a low noise. It was like a hm, but threatening. Hm, he said, interesting, that. But what it was he felt was so interesting about that particular line of information, Isolde couldn’t only venture a guess; and if she had to venture a guess, she would have said that it would probably be that he felt it was interesting that something was going on that he had not been aware of.
If there was one thing that she knew about Joseph, affirmatively, it was that he did not like not knowing.
“Isolde, why are you here?”
A familiar spark of anger lit, hot and fetid, in her belly. “Pardon me?
“Why are you here? In this compound? In Hope County?” Even as he spoke, Joseph’s gaze was fixed on the eldest Seed, the lines of his face peaceful and serene despite the idle venom burning in the timbre of his voice. “What did John send you here for?”
The anger burned up into soot, into dread, and sat just there, curled at the base of her neck. Isolde could not shake the idea that she had been brought in here to make a point, and that she really shouldn’t be there—that this was something Joseph and Jacob needed to settle between themselves, but that was never how Joseph had operated: fair had never been a stratagem in his playbook.
“Isolde,” Jacob said, his voice a low caution when she looked at him, shaking his head very slightly. It’s not worth it, he was saying, fighting, it’s not worth it.
“Joseph, this,” she plunged on pointedly, “is not something that I need to be a part of. I’ll go, so the two of you can—”
But when she went to depart, Joseph lifted his hand and pointed at her and ground out between his teeth, “Stay. Put.”
The poison in his voice was so potent it almost made her flinch. Almost. And then the indignation started to bloom: who do you think you are, to be talking to me like that? But they wouldn’t come; the words wouldn’t come, because when she lifted her gaze to Joseph’s and saw him looking at her, it was—
“I want you to say it, out loud, in front of Jacob,” he continued, the muscle of his jaw flexing viciously. “Tell him why John needed you here.”
Jacob said, raising his voice a little, “We all know why—”
“Because you are useless unless you are aware of what’s happening. Every detail. Isn’t that right?” he prompted. “Isolde?”
She felt her molars grind. It was clear, now, why he had asked her here. “Yes.”
Joseph turned his gaze to Jacob. “Is that what you want us to be? Want me to be? Ill-informed?”
The redhead was silent for a long heartbeat. He sucked his teeth, and said, “No, Joseph, I don’t—”
“No. More. Secrets.”
The blonde’s voice had pitched so low that she nearly couldn’t hear him, so close and low and intimate was it that he was speaking to his brother, so little space between them. Joseph looked to be controlling himself quite tightly; so very little of the leash available to himself, digging the choke chain deeper and deeper into him in an effort to remain intact.
“Joseph,” Jacob began, “I only—”
“A whole year?” the blonde bit out viciously. “An entire year you spent devoting your time to this—this—”
Isolde was familiar with the precipice at which Joseph was teetering. Right on the edge of saying something vicious and mean and unendingly cruel. She had pushed him there a few times before, in their brief few months together—had seen the way he pulled himself back time and time again, seconds away from grinding out some wretched insult.
“I won’t,” Joseph bit out, lifting a hand as though to temper himself, “tolerate it, Jacob.”
Silence stretched between the three of them for a moment, pulled taut as a rubber band. Though she knew why Joseph had wanted her here—to make a point, but also to put someone there to witness the verbal lashing—looking at the two of them now, she felt more than ever like an intruder on a world she knew so very little about.
John had done nothing to prepare her. He had given her the rosy version of the story, and even that included the cult and the killing and the residents of Hope County. It still hadn’t been enough.
The silence broke when Jacob said, “I understand, Joseph.”
For a second, there was nothing; just Joseph, sweeping his gaze over Jacob for a long moment, like he was trying to wring out any deception or sign that Jacob was being disingenuous—and of course, he could find none, and that meant there was only the tense, uncomfortable silence wadded up between them, in their own fists.
Finally, Joseph said, “That will be all,” and turned, tilting his face to the lukewarm light of the candles at the front of the chapel and closing his eyes.
The eldest Seed lingered for only a moment longer before he left; his eyes met with Isolde’s for a heartbeat before he made his decision, turning down the center walkway and heading for the doors. It wasn’t until they clicked shut that Isolde felt a tiny bit of relief—if only because the source of Joseph’s ire had now departed, and she could get a better look at him.
It was her job to make sure things were under control. John had asked her here for that exact reason—and this kind of in-fighting would be the kind of thing that would, eventually, be their unraveling if they didn’t get it under control. She had only seen Joseph so angry once before, almost over a year ago now, back before he was the Father of Eden’s Gate. Back when they had been—
There are things that I want to accomplish, and they’re best done with a wife—
“Joseph,” Isolde said, leaving the memory somewhere else—somewhere dark and deep she would never find it again, “what’s going on?”
The blonde did not open his eyes when he replied, “I cannot have secrets kept from me.” After a moment, he added, “And in that vein of thought, I should get in touch with our wayward brother.”
“Do you really think it’s that big of a deal?” she prompted again. “To have started a fight with Jacob over a woman that he—”
“Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.” His eyes fluttered open, the flicker of dark lashes illuminated by the amber glow, and he tilted his head to look at her. There was a hardness in his voice when he said, “God is perfect in knowledge, and I cannot be less. Not when He speaks directly to me.”
An unpleasant little thrill crawled down her spine when his eyes fixed on her, darting over her face like he wanted to savor her. “Then don’t use me as the whip you want to lash your brother with,” she snapped. “I’m not a humiliation tactic. You do know better than to do that to me.”
Joseph let out a little sigh. The corners of his mouth ticked upward, the shift in mood almost palpably changing the energy in the chapel—just like that, it was different. Not lighter, not better, but different.
“You’re right,” he agreed after a moment. “I do know you better than that.”
Isolde’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Deciding to forego that comment, she took a step forward, cinching her jacket in more securely around her waist. “You know what you cannot be, Joseph?” she asked. “You cannot be fighting with your brothers. Especially not the only one that’s here. Your people out there are disgruntled, and scared, and you can’t afford to be picking fights with the people who are the most loyal to you.”
“They are all,” Joseph replied, “loyal, Isolde." And then, after a moment of watching her: "Is this what you want to be doing? Herding us? Mothering us?”
“My professional opinion is that the image of your convent is severely lacking,” she bit out, once again ignoring the bait, “and the last thing you need to do is have them noticing that there’s a rift forming between the ones in charge. And yes—that is the only thing I can do for you lot at this point, and like an idiot, I agreed to come here and do it.”
Because I can’t say no to John, something tired inside of her said. Because I couldn’t say no to any of you, even if I wanted to.
The blonde reached up, and it took that gesture for Isolde to realize how closely they had drifted—it was so little effort, so little time between the movement of his hand and the time at which his fingers made contact with her cheek, brushing the hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. He moved so confidently and leisurely that Sol couldn’t think to pull back; and when she didn’t, the calloused fingertips trailed down the pillar of her throat, his eyes following their journey.
It was intimate; too soon her brain said, even though it had been so long since they had been in the same room, let alone regarded each other in even a passive capacity. But it was too soon enough that her brain fizzed out, the air moving thick as molasses in the journey between her mouth and lungs, the violent flashback of their closeness overwhelming her.
She said, “Joseph,” in a don’t kind of voice, and he dropped his hand from where it had come to a stop at the juncture between her neck and shoulder.
“It was smart of John, to ask you to come and shepherd us in his absence,” Joseph said, blithely ignoring the desperate little barb in the way Isolde said his name.
“I always thought you’d make a perfect Mother.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It had been several days since their conversation in the hallway that night, and John had barely seen hide nor hair of Elliot.
Honestly, it would have been impressive how quickly she could make herself inaccessible, were it not so frustrating. He couldn’t help but wonder what the implications there were—had she known she could do this all along, and had been indulging in him for some reason? Had she simply decided to be done and that was it, meaning that she hadn’t been done before?
Not that she was done now, anyway. Not if John had anything to say about that. But for a few days, she barely spared him a glance—passed him in the hallway when she got home with a muttered greeting on occasion. She woke before him, left to the stables without him, and left him alone in the house. Left him alone without her venom, without her eyes on him. With her mother, no less.
Scarlet was, on paper, exactly the kind of woman that John felt confident in his ability to charm. Single, wealthy by inheritance, a little older and always with a martini in hand by ten? If he couldn’t impress her, he had to be doing something wrong. But in a way that seemed to be very typical of the Honeysett women, Scarlet remained veritably unimpressed and even disdainful of his presence—even though she had insisted he stay with them.
More and more, he was becoming convinced that it was not going to be to his benefit.
“Good morning, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet greeted him from where she sat at the table, perusing her magazine. Not once did her eyes lift to meet his, and not once did an ounce of enthusiasm enter her voice. “You are missing from the stables again today, I see. Not a horse person?”
“I might find myself to be one,” John replied with a leisurely sort of bitterness, “if Elliot would only allow me to come.”
“Yes, it’s very annoying, isn’t it?” The blonde mused idly, over her cup of coffee. “To not be handed exactly what you want when you want it?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, pouring himself a cup of coffee and trying to remind himself that this was all temporary. This house, this town, Scarlet and Sylvia and Wyatt—it was all temporary, and soon enough they would be the least of his concerns. All of his time and attention would be wrapped up in Elliot and the baby, and what their lives would look like once the end had come.
Because it would come, and then she would see. She would understand that everything he’d done had been for them, for her and their baby and—
“I only want to spend as much time with her as I can,” he replied, managing to keep his tone pleasant. “Before I go back home.”
“And when are you?” Scarlet idled. “Going, I mean?” And then, in what he could only think was a stretch of graciousness: “Not that you’ve overstayed, because I am sure you would never, and Delia is quite taken with you—”
“Surely.”
“—as is Elliot, despite her best efforts to act otherwise.”
“What?” John’s head snapped to where Scarlet was still browsing her magazine, and he cleared his throat at her arched brow to try and gather his scrambled thoughts. “What I mean is, has she—said anything to you about me?”
The blonde at the table, swathed in her silk robe and curls primly pinned back away from her face, made a sound that might have been amused. Might have been, anyway, had he not turned to look at her and seen the way her face remained serene and unexpressive.
“I am not blind, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet idled. “It takes very little investigation to find that my daughter is fond of you, against my wishes and her own.”
Before John could open his mouth to respond—and press for more information while his stomach did victorious little somersaults—she turned her head to the window, when the sound of a vehicle rolling up the drive spurred Boomer on to barking in the front room.
“Oh, would you look at that,” she murmured with a little sigh. “My prodigal child, returned home at last.”
He glanced out the window to see an unfamiliar car pulling up, a black truck that took the fresh snow of the unplowed drive to the Graves-Honeysett home with ease; from the driver’s side hopped a familiar face.
“Didn’t Elliot drive there this morning?” he asked, frowning as he watched Wyatt jog around to the passenger side despite Elliot’s waving from the front for him to stop. The man had been nothing but polite—even enthused—to meet him at the bar the other night, but that didn’t mean John had forgotten the way he’d gotten comfy enough to try and touch Elliot’s face and her hair. Even now, the man grinned, all sunshine, as he opened the passenger side door for her and offered her his hand.
Scarlet replied, her attention already having departed the window, “What a silly question to ask out loud, Mr. Seed. You're not stupid, so I would beg you—try not to give me that impression.”
His eyes darted to Scarlet for a moment, briefly grateful that she wasn’t looking at him to see the spark of irritation winding its way across his face; he could feel it furrowing his brows, drawing his mouth into a hard, tight line. Setting his coffee cup on the counter, John made his way out the front door just as Wyatt and Ell were nearly there.
“Oh, hey John!” Wyatt greeted him. His eyes swept over him briefly. “Boy, you’re really put together any chance you get, huh?”
“You can never be overdressed,” John replied as amicably as he could. “Watch the steps, Ell, they’re—”
“Icy, I know,” Elliot said. She puffed out a little breath of air and brushed his offered hand aside, instead favoring the railing with one hand and the top of Boomer’s head with the other, still refusing him the courtesy of meeting his eyes. It had been days. She had never once held such a grudge against him—not really, not where he couldn’t at least get her to give him the time of day.
“Where’s the Jeep?” he asked, his voice coming out a bit tighter than he would have liked as she brushed past him. “Surely you didn’t have Wyatt ferry you out here for fun.”
“Tire’s flat,” she snipped. “Would you prefer I walked?”
“You could have called.” He took in a sharp little breath, willing the accusation away. “I would have been more than happy to pick you up, Ell.”
“Don’t have a cell phone,” Elliot replied flatly. “And Wyatt was already there.”
“It wasn’t any trouble,” Wyatt interjected hurriedly, smiling at John with pearly whites on display. “I had to come into town anyway, and it was gonna be hours before the mechanic could get out there.”
“Well, it was very kind of you all the same,” John said with a smile that felt like it pulled too tight across his face, a smile that was harder and harder to maintain with every passing second that Wyatt West put his baby-blues on Elliot. And that was often; the blonde looked a little sheepish when his gaze met John’s, drawn away from the redhead who was readily retreating into the house.
“Like I said, wasn’t any trouble. Always happy to help,” the blonde insisted, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
“Yes,” John replied pleasantly, “I can see that.”
Wyatt blinked, flushing. “Anyway, uh...Have a nice day, John. And you too, Freckles!”
He waved before turning on his heel and heading back to the truck. As soon as the driver’s door closed and he was starting to pull away, John turned to see Elliot watching him, her eyes narrowed.
“‘I can see that’?” She scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, are we talking now?” His brows lifted, head tilting. “So kind of you, to grace me with eye contact when you’ve been storming around the last few days—”
“Don’t be a fucking baby,” Elliot snapped. “My life does not revolve around you. Especially when I can’t seem to figure out why the fuck you drove all the way here just to sulk around.”
“Perhaps it should at least be in my orbit,” John replied tersely, “considering that we are having a child together.”
“You—”
Elliot sucked in a sharp breath, clamping her mouth shut as she looked at him. There was a very brief moment where she looked like she wanted to say something, and very badly, but instead, the corner of her mouth ticked upward and she turned on her heel to walk inside without saying a word.
“It’s a cute nickname,” John continued tartly as he trailed after her. Don't walk away from me, don't, you owe me at least your attention. “Freckles. Do you prefer that one over Miss Honey?”
She closed the door behind her, promptly and without hesitation, letting it rattle in the door frame and in his face. He sucked in a sharp breath, passing a hand exhaustedly over his face.
Impudent. Surly. Ferociously, viciously, wretchedly stubborn. He knew this about her—had known this about her—and yet at every opportunity, she proved his idea of her correct, and he found himself getting more and more frustrated. It wasn’t fair, that even those moments of her attention still felt good, that the sting of her venom held some satisfaction for him, like he was addicted to it.
If she would just, came the thought, rolling over and over. If she would, if she would just, if she would just—
But just what? Just stop being that way? Would he have even liked her if she were not this purposefully obstinate problem to solve?
“No,” he sighed to himself, raking his fingers through his hair. “No, I wouldn’t.”
The reward would just have to be all that much sweeter in the end.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Three hours later, Elliot had forced herself to come to a decision.
She waffled on it for a while—going back and forth as she showered, scrubbing her hair and trying to let the hot water ease some of the growing aches and pains—and did her best to ignore the way something a little wicked chattered happily inside of her at the knowledge that John’s eyes had been sparking with jealousy. It felt immature, to like watching him squirm; more apparent than ever, too, was that old habits died hard.
There was a sick kind of satisfaction that came with finding John’s buttons and pushing them. It had felt the same way, back in Hope County—when he’d been burning with irritation and jealousy that Joseph had gotten her confession, not him, that she wouldn’t tell him what it was, pushing and pushing and jamming her finger into that button until he finally snapped and—
Kissed her.
That’s not what I’m trying to do, she thought, a little defiantly as she looked at herself in the mirror of the bathroom; tracing the WRATH scar, looking down to realize that there was, in fact, a baby bump. Oh, God, wasn’t that something fucking dreadful? Too real, but even still she’d known it was coming—worn looser, heavier clothes. She’d tried so hard not to look at herself in mirrors as of late that doing so now made her feel like she was looking at a stranger.
I’m not trying to get him to kiss me—the opposite, actually, I’m just trying to get him to fucking lay off for a minute—
And yet, as she found herself standing outside of the door to John’s room, her chest felt a little tight and her heart was doing that funny thing it liked to do when he was around; fluttering, leaping against her ribs, begging for attention. Elliot could have argued that it was just muscle memory at this point, that she had spent enough time around John letting him touch her and kiss her and say sweet things into her neck that her body was only working off of its basest instincts, and that was why she was feeling this way.
Clearing her throat, Elliot knocked on the door and said, “John?”
There was the sound of shuffling on the other side, and then his voice drifting to her: “Yes, Elliot?”
“It’s time for my appointment,” she managed out lamely. It felt even more stupid, saying it now, after she’d made such a big show of marching off after he’d committed to his display of jealousy. “Since the Jeep’s still waiting to get the tire fixed, do you think you could—”
The door swung open; John’s eyes flickered over her for a moment, his head tilting just before his mouth curved into a pleasant little smile that was two parts triumph and one part spite.
“What’s this?” he asked. “You need my help with something?”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Don’t be an asshole, John.”
“I would never.” He propped himself up against the doorframe, folding his arms. “Wyatt’s taxi services currently unavailable?”
Already, she was regretting her decision—it had felt important, to have him along, but now she thought maybe she had been too forgiving for having forgiven anything at all.
“The appointment might be the one we figure out the baby’s gender, fuckface,” she snapped, “and since Wyatt’s not the baby’s father, I figured maybe you’d want to come in for this appointment, because it wouldn't feel right not to at least ask if you wanted to. Don’t worry though, I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you.”
“Wait!” The exclamation stopped her mid-turn from his door, the feeling of his fingers brushing the palm of her hand making her jerk out of his reach instinctively. John exhaled through his nose, and when she looked him with narrowed eyes and her arms crossed, he said, “I do want to—I want to come.”
“You sure aren’t acting like it.”
“I—Ell, I haven’t heard the baby’s heartbeat a single time,” he insisted, a little frantic. “I’ve respected that you didn’t want me there the last time, and you know, when I wasn’t here before is another thing, but finding out the gender and getting to hear the heartbeat—” He stopped, sighing. “I’m...”
Though there was a bit of pain stinging in the cavity of her chest at his earnesty, Elliot steeled herself, keeping her expression tight. “You’re what, John?” she prompted. She half-expected another blow-up; I’m the baby’s father, that baby is mine, I deserve this, it’s mine.
But instead, John’s mouth twisted and he said, “I’m—sorry.”
Elliot blinked. Had she ever heard John apologize? For anything, ever? And sincerely? She couldn’t recall a day or time in memory—and though her memory was spotty at best these days, she thought for certain that was something she would have remembered. Even when they’d been going to bury Joey, she wouldn’t let him get the words out.
“Uh,” she said very intelligently, “what?”
“I’m sorry,” John repeated, appearing a little frustrated at having to repeat himself. He shifted on his feet. “I want to come to the appointment. I mean—” And then, in what surely must have been pure agony: “Please let me come to the appointment.”
It felt so odd to hear the words coming out of his mouth that she could only blink rapidly and say, “Um, okay,” before turning and quickly heading down the hall and to the stairs. It had been her intention all along to ask John if he wanted to come to the appointment, to see the baby on the screen and find out the gender together—because despite his petty jealousy over someone he didn’t need to be concerned about in the least, and despite his insistence that he was the only person capable of loving her, she did see him making an effort instead of yanking her all the way to the other side. Even if it was a minute, tiny effort; it was an effort nonetheless.
“We’ll have to take your car,” Elliot said uneasily over her shoulder, pulling on her coat quickly. “And it’s soon, so—”
“Making haste,” John agreed from beside her. He reached over her shoulder to pull his own coat off of the rack. It wasn’t lost on her, then, that weeks ago he had gone to reach for her shoulder and she’d about jumped out of her skin; now, the smell of his cologne and his voice close to her ear was almost comforting, in an entirely self-indulgent way.
If she just broke it down to the piece of John she loved the most—his voice and the way the cologne smelled when it was on him, and the way it felt when his hands traced the scars on her hips, and the boyish grin he’d flash her—then maybe it could work. Then, maybe, things would have been fine.
But that’s not love, something inside of her said, as she made her way out the front door and to the car. John says he loves all the wretched things about you. Did you forget?
No. No, she had not forgotten the way John had kissed her when she had blood on her mouth, or the way he’d said, I would’ve fucked you there, or how it felt when he buried his face into her neck and said her name in a voice so broken she thought she might be holy.
“Too hot?” John asked, and she realized she was sitting in the car—that she had checked out halfway out the door—and they were now down at the end of the drive.
Elliot swallowed. Her face felt hot, and now it was not only because of her mind’s wanderings but also because she had been caught daydreaming.
“No,” she said, sinking back against the passenger seat. “No, it’s fine.”
He watched her for a moment before pulling out of the driveway and onto the street. She took a quick glance around the car; it was older, and sort of a beater. The kind of shitty Honda civic she’d see peeling out on the highway at 3AM because some idiot teenager thought she wouldn’t pull them over if the roads were empty. He’d probably lifted it on his way out of town to keep a low profile.
Her foot nudged something solid as she stretched out. Over the sound of the radio rattling and fuzzing tiredly, she heard a dull thunk. She squinted. It was a book. Unconditional Parenting.
“Jesus,” John muttered, “for a town this small, this traffic is a nightmare.”
“What?” Elliot asked, quickly averting her eyes from the book, feeling like she’d just rifled through someone’s personal drawer. “Oh, um—it’s a tourist town. People come here for the Christmas lights. They do like a whole lighting festival with that big tree in the square every night for weeks before Christmas.”
“And that’s why I can’t find parking.”
“That’s why you can’t find parking.”
He shot her a wry smile, taking a second loop around the square and a bit slower this time. Elliot turned her attention back out the window, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it—Unconditional Parenting. How long had he been reading baby books? Why was he so confident he’d get the chance to be a parent, anyway?
When he finally pulled into a parking spot, he let out a breath of relief. “How are we on time?”
Ell glanced at the car’s radio. “Ten minutes early,” she replied after a moment. “Right on time.”
“Great.” John paused. When neither of them moved to get out of the car, he cleared his throat and said, “So, what do you think?”
“About?” Elliot prompted. “The lighting festival?”
“What do you think baby is?” he clarified. Absently, he worried his thumbnail into the rubber of the steering wheel. “The lighting festival in a tourist town is the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Well, it should be on your mind,” she replied, a little petulant. “I think it’s nice, for the record. All of the vendors come in from out of town and even though the traffic’s a nightmare, it’s good business for the town and everyone’s always been respectful of it. Plus, the lights are nice.”
She paused, and when she looked at John, he was grinning at her. He seemed to be enjoying her firm defense of the lighting festival.
“And I think baby is a boy,” she added after a minute, pulling at a loose thread on her sweater. “Just my gut feeling.”
He seemed pleased by her answer, but if he actually was she couldn’t have said why; it was nearly impossible to read John sometimes, but especially in moments like this, in uncharted waters for them both. She lingered for a moment before she unbuckled and said quickly, “Anyway, we should probably go,” pulling herself out of the warmth of the car and into the chilly afternoon.
She wanted to go back to being angry. She wanted to go back to hating John, to being disgusted by him, to relishing in making him suffer, even just a little—but it was like her brain had reverted back to her neanderthal roots. Baby daddy reads parenting books, makes him a good father.
The sooner the moment was over and done with, the sooner she could go back to wallowing on the ways John had wronged her, instead of the ways he made her happy.
By the time they were back in the room, Elliot sitting on the end of the little bed and John in the chair under a pregnancy poster—Pregnant or thinking of getting pregnant? 3 things to discuss!—she had nearly steeled herself. If she just sat there, and replayed the last three months in her head, and reminded herself of all the reasons why she had left John behind in the first place, she would be just fine.
And then the door opened, and Dr. Harding stepped inside, and looked between Elliot and John with surprise.
“Hello, Elliot,” Harding greeted. “I see we’ve a guest today?”
“This is John,” Elliot said, trying not to sound too miserable given the riotous state of her brain. “This is the, uh—he's the father.”
John stood quickly, holding out his hand. “John Seed.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Harding,” she said, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Excited? Elliot’s told you we might find out the gender today, yes?”
“Yes and yes,” John confirmed, sounding more and more like the kind of man she had fallen for and less like the egotistical psycho she’d turned in to the government. Right, the one that had lied, and coerced, and perhaps knowingly drugged her. She couldn’t afford to forget that bit.
As Elliot went through all of the normal questions—have you been eating well, yes, I see you haven’t lost weight, yeah, how is the sleep, it’s fine—she held on tight to that little thread of knowledge. John was here because she was letting him, not for any other reason, and it did feel good to know that this whole time he’d played by her rules. As much as he could have, anyway, showing up at her house unannounced.
She settled back against the propped back, grimacing as she shimmied the hem of her sweater up and Harding put a generous amount of gel on the swell of her stomach. Between doctor’s appointments, it was easy to pretend like maybe she wasn’t pregnant. The morning sickness had faded, her appetite had come back, she was getting fine enough sleep; if she didn’t look at herself in the mirror, if she ignored the pervading aches and pains, the roundness to her features then she could pretend like things were normal.
But then John pulled the chair over to the side of the bed, his fingers brushing hers, and nothing felt even remotely close to normal.
“Alright, let’s take a look at baby, shall we?” Harding said, settling in as she began to glide the instrument across Elliot’s stomach.
“Okay,” Elliot said, feeling uneasy. John’s eyes flickered to her, and while she chewed the inside of her cheek, her fingers curled around his—a thoughtless, absent-minded gesture, like she was a heat-seeking machine and the only heat that would do was his.
He didn’t say anything, but laced their fingers together just as Harding said, “Oh, there’s baby!”
The dull, steady heartbeat echoed. When she stole a glance in his direction, John’s eyes were transfixed on the screen as Harding went over where the features were, pointing them out on the screen to him.
“Your little one is about the size of a peach right now,” Harding was saying, “and let’s just see here...”
Oh, God, she thought, feeling her stomach roll. It was so real. Too real, to be laying there, after all of this time feeling so disconnected from her own body—like a vessel, but now with John’s fingers tangled with hers and the baby’s heartbeat and a fruit analogy regarding the size it felt too real. She could no longer act like it wasn’t happening.
“It looks like we’ve got a perfectly healthy baby boy,” were the words coming out of the doctor’s mouth when Elliot’s eyes drifted from John’s face. “It might be a bit early, but that's my educated inference. Congratulations, Elliot. And daddy too, of course.”
A boy. A boy. I’m having a boy.
A perfectly healthy baby boy.
The room felt a little like it was swimming, her throat tight and a steady burning behind her eyes and nose. She sat up a little and swallowed thickly. John had come to a stand too, to get a better look at the screen, but when she squirmed and moved he looked at her.
“Ell?” he asked, sounding very far away, or like he was talking to her underwater. His hand not interlocked with hers came up to her face, and she couldn’t find it in herself to pull away—not only because of the effort it would take, but because of the way it felt to have him right there when she thought she needed him the most. “What’s wrong? Hey, baby, are you—”
“I’m okay,” Elliot managed out, her voice thick and wobbly. “I’m f-fine, I just—um—”
I’m having a boy. Oh, God, it felt so fucking real, too fucking real, but in a good way—for once, her nerve-endings felt alive, and not with anxiety and dread but with happiness.
Sounding panicked, John tilted her face up and asked again, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, a wet, raspy little laugh bubbling out of her, “nothing’s wrong, I’m just—I’m just really happy—”
It took his thumb sweeping wetness from her cheek for her to realize that she was crying. Some unshed emotion hiccuped in her chest, and she swallowed thickly, fingers wrapping around his wrist in what she understood too late was an effort to keep his hand there; skin to skin, pulse close to pulse.
I want a home with you, she’d said to him, that night, and he’d looked at her and said, You have it, Ell, I told you.
He’d said, I’m all yours.
He’d said, Take what you need from me.
Dr. Harding was saying something, speaking softly to John. It was another reminder that it had been idiotic not to let him come in the first place—there was something so inherently endearing about John mmhming and nodding along, listening raptly as the doctor went over what they would be expecting in between this appointment and the next while his thumb swept affectionately over her cheek. She was sure that she heard the reaffirmation that she needed to be getting good sleep, staying as relaxed and unstressed as possible, but she couldn’t think about that. Her brain was going on loop, on repeat.
I’m having a boy, she thought, a perfectly healthy baby boy. My baby.
When Harding patted John’s shoulder and said, “I’ll give you two a minute,” before exiting, she felt John’s fingers threading through the hair at the nape of her neck; in a gesture that was painfully intimate, his forehead pressed to hers.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “I can’t believe that—”
“I know,” she said, sniffing. “I can’t either.”
“You were right.” He grinned, their noses brushing, giving her hand a squeeze. So close to a kiss; she felt her lashes fluttering, the warmth of his hand spreading along the slope of her neck. “We’re having a boy. My God.”
Yes. We are having a boy. A perfectly healthy baby boy. Without her permission, the thought populated, permeating her brain.
Our baby.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Yes, I have him right here.”
Staci blinked. A quick intake of his surroundings reminded him that he was sitting in the cab of one of Eden’s Gates trucks—lifted from the F.A.N.G. Center. Footage of him with the cultists—the other cultists—would now be available. Footage of him walking past the corpses of Jacob’s gutted chosen would now be available.
Jacob is going to kill me, he thought, lifting his eyes from the back of the seat to look at Helmi. The woman was watching him as she spoke on the phone, with Dani sitting next to him on the backbench. Helmi had been on the phone with someone for quite a while; he’d stopped paying attention what felt like eons ago. If he just let his brain drift off, he wouldn’t think about the bodies. Fucking God, their bodies—
Jacob’s going to fucking kill me.
Helmi's hand moved. On instinct, Staci flinched, and she rolled her eyes.
“Say hello, doggy,” she said, shoving the phone against his ear. He fumbled with it for a minute before he swallowed thickly.
When he looked at Dani frantically, she frowned, her brows furrowing, and she whispered, “Don’t embarrass me, Staci.”
“Um, h...” His mouth was painfully dry. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Staci Pratt?”
The voice on the other end was painfully pleasant. She had the same kind of accent Dani did—Norwegian, maybe, or Swedish—but her voice was a bit deeper, a rich timbre to it.
“I am,” he replied uneasily. “I-I mean, yes. It is.”
Helmi had faced forward in the driver’s seat again and started pulling away from the F.A.N.G. Center, turning the heat down low. As the truck pulled out onto the snowy highway, she flicked the headlights off and slowed to something close to a crawl.
“S-Sorry, but—”
“You do not have to apologize to me, Staci.”
“I just don’t know—um, who you are,” he managed out. As soon as he said the words, Dani dug her elbow into his ribs; he barely stifled the yelp, looking at her as she mouthed something he couldn’t understand.
She hissed, “I told you, she is—”
“My name is Kajsa. Helmi, and your Dani, and many of our brothers and sisters are...” Her voice trailed off, and she made a thoughtful hum. Pratt tried to ignore the way she said your Dani made his heart jump in his throat. “They are my charges. It is my responsibility to take care of them.”
“Oh,” Pratt said. “So what...What do you want with me?”
“Helmi says that you have made a very good impression,” Kajsa replied sweetly. “You have important knowledge, and I want to make sure that you are safe, and taken care of. Just as I would any of the others.”
He fought back a grimace. The words sounded sweet and enticing, but he couldn’t shake the way Dani had looked at the gutted corpses on the screen and said delightedly, It will happen to us all. If we are lucky, Helmi will be the one who does it for us.
Pratt’s gaze darted up to the front. Helmi’s dark eyes fixed on his in the mirror, like she had been watching him all along.
“It is my understanding that the Seeds have not endeared you to their cause? That you know what your colleague did, that your friends have left?”
“No,” he replied quickly. “I mean—that’s right. Um, I was working for Jacob, but it was more like—”
“Do not trouble yourself with recounting. I believe you,” Kajsa interrupted. And then, gently: “It must have been horrible.”
His chest tightened. Oh, no, he thought, shaking his head and pressing the heel of his hand against his left eye. No, fuck no, don’t listen to her, Pratt, you fucking idiot.
“By now you must have some grasp of what is going on,” the woman continued, “but in case you do not, I will tell you. Are you listening, Staci Pratt?”
Pratt’s head pressed against the back of the seat. He didn’t want to; he didn’t want to listen to her sweetness, her sympathy, the way she clicked her tongue and the timbre of her voice warming him down to the marrow of his bones when he felt like he’d been freezing this whole time.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I’m listening.”
“We are well-armed. We are organized. We have a common enemy with you. And a common friend, too.” She paused, and he thought that he could hear a smile in her voice when she said, “I can tell that you want to live, my darling. That you don’t want me to have Helmi pull over and gut you open, leave you for the crows and the wolves and the woods to take you.”
Opening his mouth did nothing to inspire the words to come out of him. Nausea rolled violently in his stomach—but there was nothing left to puke up, even if he’d wanted to.
He did want to live, but not like this. Not terrified. Not. Like. This.
“I want you to live too,” Kajsa murmured on the other end.
“But you’re going to have to do something for me.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
When Elliot opened her eyes, it had gotten dark outside.
It took her a minute to collect her bearings, sitting up in a bed in a dark room. At her feet, Boomer huffed and sighed at the disturbance, and then she remembered; she was in her bed. Back at home. John had driven the both of them back to the house, and she’d said that she needed to lay down—and he’d let her, without protest or complaint. He hadn’t even tried to insinuate she could use a napping companion.
Pulling herself out of bed, she rubbed her eyes tiredly and glanced out the window. Everything felt a little foggy. How long had she been sleeping? Had she really been out until late into the night?
She reached absently to her bedside table, blindly fumbling for the lamp switch; after what felt like an eternity of not being able to find it, Elliot sighed and skimmed her hand over her face, looking out the window. The night outside was brighter than it had been in a while, with no clouds in the sky and the moon illuminating the snowy landscape in an unforgiving blue-white, stretching out far and far and far until it hit the treeline.
Something darted on the horizon. She blinked rapidly, taking a step closer to the window and pushing on the glass pane until it started to slide up, grinding laboriously. The longer she looked, the longer Elliot thought maybe she had just been zoning out—but then she saw it again; a flash of something, pale and long, like spider bone-white in color skittering up the dark wood of a tree in the distant treeline.
A glimpse of pale limbs. Tangled, dark hair—she couldn’t make out the color, it was too dark—but it looked wet, it looked matted, like someone had hurt it. Like someone had blown its skull open.
Something metal rattled. The trash can, she thought, her attention snapping to the front of the house. When the sound of metal crashed in the night, the motion-activated light in the front kicked on. A shadow stretched along the snow, cast long and deformed by the warping of the light.
“Hey!” Elliot shouted, but the shadow did not twitch or move in response; just the sounds of rustling, like whoever it was found themselves too preoccupied with digging through the trash can. Her heart was pounding violently in her chest; the terror that had been knotting in her stomach was doused by something hotter, redder, angrier.
Rage.
She pushed herself away from the window and out the door into the hallway. As her feet hit the stairs, there was almost no noise—just the rushing of her movements as she pushed the front door open and hurried down the front steps, turning the corner to where the garbage can sat.
“Hey, listen to me!” she snapped, propelled by the anger when she saw the figure hunched over the garbage can. “You can’t be in—”
The figure lifted its head. From the back, her eyes swept over what looked like fur, a tail, up and up to the back of a head that had two ears perched on it, until the figure’s head turned—
Fury disappeared. It was now only dread, only pure, cold dread and terror sitting in her, gutting her, washing her out as the dog with a man’s face turned and looked at her and smiled.
The square teeth, gapped and pearly, oozed with the same dark liquid as she had thought she’d seen before. In the yellow light from the porch, it glittered dark as garnets, dropping into the snow and spreading out crimson.
Move, she thought, I have to move, I have to fucking move, I have to go I have to run I have to—
“Hey!”
It was her voice. It was her voice, but it wasn’t coming out of her—it was thrown, echoing from somewhere in the trees, the dog with the man’s face spreading its mouth wider. Somehow, she knew deep in the marrow of her bones that It was making that sound.
“Hey? Listen to me?”
The pitch was all wrong. Elliot felt a moan bubbling up in her, and It turned on its hind legs, feet hanging loose around its ribcage, and faced her fully. She managed one step back before It tilted its head, as if to say, where are you going?
“Hey, listen to me!”
There was something else in its teeth. Something else, wiry and golden, and even when she willed herself a step back
(whereveryougowhereveryourun)
her body would not move; she was trapped, frozen, watching as It stepped closer
(ItwillwaitforyouItwaitsforusall)
she realized that it was hair, in It’s teeth
(ITWAITSFORYOUITWAITSFORUSALLITWILLHAVEYOU)
her hair.
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she screamed.
When she lurched and twisted around, she was not met with a familiar face. It was a woman, hair dark and bundled up in winter clothes, watching her with concern furrowing her brows as the headlights of her car made Elliot squint. She immediately jerked away.
“Are you alright?” the woman asked, her hand dropping back to her side. She was tall—she had to be at least six feet tall, and her face was sharp and angular, her eyes nearly black without any light to show their color.
“Where—” Glancing around wildly, Elliot forced a swallow. She was not in front of her house. She was not even close to the front of her house. She was all the way at the end of the drive, standing in the—
“—found you in the middle of the road,” the woman said, the lilt of her accent jarring Elliot back to reality. “I was on my way home when I nearly hit you. Are you quite well?”
Her gaze snapped back to the woman. The dog; where was the dog with the man’s face? Where had she—
Every nerve-ending felt fried, like they had become pure static; she felt like she was vibrating. She stared at the dark-haired woman with the strange, rich accent, wondering why it itched at her. Weyfield was small. Too small for her to not know about someone with an accent living there.
“Who are you?” she asked after a moment, nails digging into her palms. “You don’t live around here.”
A smile stretched across the woman’s face. She had pearly teeth, and the kind of full mouth that looked pretty, sculpted—but in the smile, Elliot only thought, broken glass, her smile looks like broken glass.
Vaguely, she was aware of John’s voice; he must have heard her scream, or seen her down the driveway, the headlights of the unfamiliar car illuminating her in the dead of night. And yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling. Paranoia spread along her spine, worming into her lungs, a most effective parasite.
“I know you don’t live here,” Elliot managed out, her voice trembling as she took a step forward. There was a tiny pinprick of relief when she realized she’d regained her mobility. “Why are you driving around this neighborhood? Who are you?”
The woman turned and headed back towards the driver’s side of her car, hands tucked politely into the pockets of her coat.
“You should be more careful of your sleepwalking. Someone else might not have been so kind as to stop,” she called over her shoulder. “And—”
The woman paused, the smile still rooted firmly on her face as she opened her car door.
“I hear stress is bad for the baby.”
Something wretched and vile twisted in her stomach, hot as a branding iron. The panic that shot through her system was so vicious, so potent, that for a second she felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs; it crashed over her in a wave so powerful that her vision swam and she thought, I’m going to pass out.
But there was another thought, too, squirming around in there, blinking its little emergency light:
My baby, my baby, you stay away from my baby.
“Ell!”
John’s hands landed on her before she thought think to pull away, even if she’d wanted to, as the headlights of the woman’s car turned away and began to drift down the drive. The idea that she ought to chase the car down occurred to her, but the tremble in her legs and the hitch of her breath reminded her that it would only serve to make her feel worse.
The brunette frantically checked her over, panting and out of breath as though he’d just sprinted down the drive; when his hands finally came to a stop, they were cradling her face, his eyes searching hers. Over his shoulder, she watched the receding red light of the woman’s car drifting in the dark, aimless in a sea of inky black, and she wanted to throw up.
“I heard you scream,” he said, breathless as his brows knit together at the center of his forehead. “What are you doing all the way out here? Baby, look at me, what’s wrong?”
“She knew,” Elliot managed out. Her voice felt like sandpaper grinding out of her lungs. “She knew I—she knew about our baby.”
“Who?” John looked over his shoulder, and then back at her, his thumbs smoothing over her cheekbones. “Elliot, who?”
I don’t know, but the words wouldn’t come.
I don’t know who she is,
but she knew about our baby,
and she has a smile like broken glass,
and a mouth as red as blood.
17 notes · View notes
clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago
Text
Study Buddies ~ H.D.
A/n: Yall really be liking Hamish huh? Lol we stan tbh.
Request: “Hi could I request a hamish duke x male reader where the reader is like the super studious person like always preparing for the next test or something and hamish starts liking him? Ps you are like the only person who does the order fics and I love that you do it because I love the order boys!!” by anonymous
Word Count: 3000+
Masterlist
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Psychology was hard.
School was never one of those things that came easy to Y/n. He wasn't one of those kids who could sit there and give the bare minimum effort. He struggled to follow throughout an entire lecture because the sun was bright and the grass was really green and he knew it was a nice day outside today and... wait now he'd missed five minutes of class, dang it!
In college, five minutes was like missing three days of school. The topic was suddenly completely different and Y/n was lost and confused.
That didn't stop him from being a top student in each one of his classes though. He had always been proud of his grades and worked himself near death if necessary, if it meant getting an A. Not literally near death of course, that was dramatic.
Y/n had taught himself time management at a very young age. It had been the key to his success ever since. He slept and ate food - three meals a day - and even kept a job, taking every free moment he had to study his ass off so that he knew what was going on and could deliver the proof with those beautiful red A's on the top of each of his papers.
Y/n really did study so much to get those results though. On his breaks at work, between classes, before and after school, during meals and off periods. He even quizzed himself in the bathroom and the shower, checking to make sure he'd gotten it right when he got out. It was hard and tiring, but it meant that he succeeded every time, and that's what was important.
He was a good student. His psychology teacher's TA, Hamish Duke, was very appreciative of it.
Hamish was around a lot more than the teacher was. He taught lectures and even graded papers. This class had long since been seen as Hamish’s class, and that was perhaps why it was so easy for him to slip every conversation into the direction of Y/n. Hamish was proud of all his students, but most often his star pupil.
Hamish talked about Y/n constantly. Or, more accurately, his grades. Like a proud parent showing off his child, Hamish filled his friends' ears with rant after rant about his favorite student. The only student that seemed genuinely knowledgeable about the material. The only student as well who turned in his stuff early and asked questions rather than just listening, and seemed dedicated and focused on everything, as Hamish said.
One day during one of these rants, Lilith said something that changed everything. "He likes you."
Hamish jerked back, his face twisting in disbelief. "What? No he doesn't."
Randall snorted. "No, I have to go with Lilith on this one, Hamish. I have math class with Y/n and he doesn't pay attention at all. He's just a super nerd and teaches the stuff to himself in his free time."
"Some boy doesn't pay attention in any class but Hamish's?" Jack laughed. "Dude so has a crush on you."
Rolling his eyes, Hamish stood. "You guys obviously have no sense of respect. Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to- I already knew that." The trio laughed as Hamish walked away.
After that though, Hamish became hyper aware of Y/n. The boy had his eyes on Hamish nonstop. Every once in a while, he'd even mutter under his breath as he'd watch and Hamish realized after a while that he was watching so closely, he was subconsciously mouthing along with Hamish. Probably because he read the book on his own time as well. Which made Hamish wonder why Y/n ever came to class. If he read the book, was he just... adding some context? Insight? So he asked Randall about it.
"Y/n only comes to class about half the time. The entire time he asks questions, but it's never about what's happened in previous classes or anything- just clarification about what we're learning now. I think he's got some theories? I don't know, he likes to test the water and push formulas. Our teacher actually gets a kick off of it. Y/n makes math fun, and... well, it's math. We all get happy when he's there."
So he might have stayed consistent with his insatiable need to deeply understand everything he took part in, but there was something different about Randall's experience from Hamish's. First of all, Y/n had never missed even a single one of Hamish's classes. Hamish knew because he had a perfect attendance record, and Hamish and the teacher - Ms. Merrill - talked about Y/n around their discussion on the newest lesson plan, batch of tests or even homework.
While Hamish was trying to ignore the thought of Y/n's possible feelings for him and teach a lesson instead, Y/n threw him off by approaching him after class. "Mr. Duke, I was wondering if you know any good tutors. I've been really struggling with the stuff we've been going over recently.
Hamish quirked an eyebrow. "Your grades are almost perfect."
There was a small smile on Y/n's lips when he spoke next. "Unfortunately, grades don't reflect understanding. I can sense myself starting to struggle I don't want to depend on luck being as good to me as it has been."
"Surely you're being modest."
A light chuckle. "Well, yes. I never depend on luck. I have been making educated guesses though and crossing my fingers on the rest."
That Hamish could relate to. "I see. I have to say, I don't really know anyone doing as well in my class as you are. No one who seems to be getting it as well as you do at least. It's mostly your questions that seem to clear up a lot of things for everyone else." Y/n seemed to lose hope as Hamish spoke. Maybe it was the look of panic that caused Hamish to speak next. "Uh, maybe I could." Y/n's eyes widened. "I just- I mean, obviously I understand it a little better. And in a one-on-one setting, it'll be less a lecture and more teaching since I'll be able to take you through my understanding on a deeper level."
"You'd do that?" Y/n looked so hopeful...
Despite the little voice screaming at Hamish to run, he couldn't bring himself to. "Yeah. When are you free?"
"I work everyday except Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Wednesdays I have completely free but if you wanted to work around Tuesday or Saturday that would be fine." Y/n pulled out a pen from behind his ear. Hamish hadn't noticed it before.
Hamish shuffled. He felt awkward for some reason. Why did he feel awkward? "Wednesdays will be perfectly fine for me. Should I get your number so we can decide what time and place?" Y/n nodded before holding out the pen and offering... his arm. "You don't have paper?"
Y/n rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond not mocking. "I really have to get to work actually. Could you just-?" He motioned to his arm and Hamish shrugged before trying to be delicate as he inked his number on the inside of Y/n's arm. "Thanks! I'll call you." He turned and moved quite quickly out of the room before disappearing out the doors. It was only after Y/n was gone that Hamish realized he still had the pen.
It was fine, he could give it back when they met up to study later.
Later on in the day, Hamish was still struggling to understand why he was so excited for the Wednesday study session. I mean Y/n seemed really cool so maybe Hamish just wanted to be friends with him. That made sense. But right as Hamish thought he was finally over it, it popped back in his brain again and he felt weirdly jittery and unfocused. He kept having to reread the problem he was on because he would get distracted before he could answer it then forget what it was when he finally focused again.
Lilith snapped her book open. "Okay, what's your deal?" The other two boys looked over. Hamish was surprised when he went to look at who she'd snapped at and had seen them all looking at him. When he only looked back confused, Lilith rolled her eyes. "Come on Hamish spill the beans. You won't sit still and you keep looking outside like you're waiting for a package to arrive or something."
"The last time he got like that was when you took him online shopping and he bought a grey v-neck. He threw a party when it came." The tease came from Randall.
"The he cried when you threw up on it," Lilith recalled.
"He CRIED?" Jack's eyes widened in amusement.
"It made my eyes look really good and that stain never came out!" Hamish exclaimed, defending himself.
Lilith shut up the others as they began to laugh. "Anyway, what has you all messed up now?”
Hamish scoffed. "Nothing could be as cool as a gray v-neck. You still owe me a replacement by the way," he shot at Randall, who winked and grinned in response.
"Hamish," Lilith snapped.
Pursing his lips, Hamish hesitated. Then he sighed. "There's only one thing I've got planned and it's not a big deal." Everyone leaned forward. When he didn't explain Randall motioned him to continue. Hamish rolled his eyes. "Y/n asked for some help-"
"You have a date with Y/n?" Jack demanded, his grin already face splitting.
"It's not a date!" Hamish slammed his own book shut. "He just needs someone to study with. He seems to be struggling."
Randall snorted, wiggling his eyebrows. "Probably because he's so distracted by Mr. Teacher."
Lilith nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a study date to me."
Waving his hand to dismiss what they were saying, Hamish stood and moved to the bar. Maybe if he drank something he could make sense of the chaos. Both of his friends and the one that was made up of his emotions. He usually handled both plenty well but they seemed to be refusing to make sense today. "You guys are idiots."
Idiots or not, their words followed Hamish all the way to Wednesday. He and Y/n only texted once to establish the time and place and it was just as professional as their conversation in person had been, but that didn't stop Hamish's mind from going wild. For the first time since Cassie he felt... stupid. He didn't know what to do or say. He found himself wanting to text Y/n more, but couldn't find a reason to. Why was this messing him up so much?
Panicked, Hamish pulled Randall aside at the last second. "I am freaking out."
"Your thing with Y/n today?" Randall asked. Hamish just wordlessly nodded. Randall smiled. "You like him, don't you?" Hamish was stubborn, but he wasn't dumb. He closed his eyes, groaning. "You have for a while?" Randall continued. "Like even before we said anything."
Hamish thought about that for a second. He thought about Ms. Merrill teasing him about how much he talked about Y/n. How she would hand him all Y/n's papers and tests to grade. He thought about the smiles on people's faces when he mentioned Y/n at all. He thought of the warmth in his gut he'd passed off as pride this whole time but, on a second look, was obviously something more. "Yeah." He frowned as he focused on Randall again. "Why did it take me so long to realize?"
Randall smiled. "You're stubborn. Once you've set your mind it'll never be changed. Whatever it was - whether you mislabeled the emotion, or the relationship between you guys, or even you or Y/n as people. Once you labeled it, you weren't going to be swayed until someone forced you to."
"Thank you Lilith," Hamish mumbled, feigning bitterness. Randall laughed. After a second, Hamish asked, "What now?"
Clapping Hamish on the shoulder, Randall let out a heavy sigh. "Now you go to this study date and you woo the boy. Duh."
So that's what Hamish did. He met up with Y/n and recognized the swell in his chest when he saw him. The way his stomach twisted. Now that he knew what it was, he was nervous rather than excited. Why was it suddenly so hard to talk to someone once you liked them?
They were already acquainted. Y/n had seen Hamish in all kinds of conditions, if not all but his worst. They knew plenty about each other, if just in passing. They'd talked plenty of times. They'd even been alone a few times, in a setting just like this. Y/n had been there when Hamish had been a disaster while trying to adjust to fully teaching a class instead of just doing grunt work. He'd helped Hamish out even, instead of teasing him or messing with him like the others students tried to do. What did Hamish have to be afraid of? Y/n trusted Hamish with his grades and education, and that seemed to mean a lot to him. Hamish trusted Y/n too. To tell the truth. To guide and help when he was struggling, and to liven things up when it got boring. It shouldn't have been hard to just talk to him.
And yet.
Y/n placed a hand on Hamish's arm. "Hey, are you okay? You seem upset." Hamish looked at him and realized how close together they were. Not too close, like friends, but far closer than they'd ever been before.
He didn't know what possessed him. It would have been better to break the ice. Maybe bring it up casually and talk about it. Flirt or tease. Anything to transition or something. Hamish skipped all of that. In his little moment of panic, he just leaned in right for the kiss.
And Y/n jerked away.
Hamish nearly choked. "I- I'm so sorry-"
Blush swallowed Y/n's face. "You were going to kiss me, right? I didn't misread that?"
"Yes." Hamish white knuckled his pencil. "I should have lead into that. You just- have these really pretty eyes-" He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
"You... I'm sorry you just took me by surprise." Y/n rubbed his forehead. "Please don't tell me you thought I asked for your help because I liked you." Hamish's smile fell and he tried to find something to say, but Y/n looked uncomfortable and he was afraid he'd make it worse.  "Hamish, I meant what I said when I inquired for help. You suggested doing it yourself. I don't... like you like that. Honestly I'm about to take a short leave for a few days and didn't want to get behind so I thought I'd get some clarification on some things I've been studying on my own."
Hamish felt like an idiot. "Oh."
"Yeah," Y/n returned softly.
"I'm... so sorry," Hamish breathed out. "Honestly I was talking about you to my friends because I admire your hard work and good grades and how you engage in class and make it fun, and they messed up my head." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "How about we ignore all of that and focus on school? I'm sure you still need help."
Y/n paused, a smile growing on his face. "I'd like that. I don't think I could get anyone as good as you to help me with this."
The awkward tension passed in a few moments as they got absorbed in work. The problem was, as Hamish easily lost himself in teaching, Y/n was now the one who found himself distracted. Hamish had a really nice smile and the sun reflected off his eyes and hair and made him look like he was almost glowing. Y/n hadn't noticed it before, but now... thinking about Hamish kissing him. How Hamish might like him. Might have been thinking about him and wondering. Getting up the courage for this little thing, and how he hadn't run away to save his pride because he valued Y/n's need enough to push away his own feelings.
They parted on good terms, shaking hands after a pause. Then they gathered their stuff and went their separate ways.
Hamish refused to talk about the "date" with Y/n, no matter how much his friends begged and prodded. Not even Lilith could pry anything from him. When Y/n didn't show up for class, Hamish figured he was gone for his little break. A break that lasted for a week and a half. Every class without Y/n was super boring and seemed to teach no one anything. Students all stared at him like he was speaking another language, and everyone refused to ask any questions. No jokes or engagement at all. He understood what Randall had meant by everyone getting excited when Y/n came to class now.
It was right after the next class Y/n hadn't been at that the man himself suddenly appeared. He looked determined about something, walking to Hamish quickly. Hamish was at the back of the room, trying to pull himself together and lift his spirits as he worried yet again that he was maybe just a bad teacher and Y/n was the one who made people stay and come at all. It was then that Y/n barged in and walked right up to him, cutting him off int he middle of greeting him and asking what he needed to grab him by the shirt and pull him into a kiss.
Without hesitation, Hamish kissed back. He held Y/n's face as the other boy pulled them as close together as they could get. When they parted, they'd moved a little so that Y/n was sitting on Hamish's desk, Hamish between his legs. "Whoa," Hamish whispered, both stunned by the kiss and their current position.
Y/n exhaled a sharp breath. "You asshole. I've been thinking about you nonstop for MONTHS and you finally try and kiss me right when I'm getting over you. Then I'm gone and all I can think about is you again and I miss you and your stupid class and your hair and eyes and your voice and how much I wanted you to kiss me so guess who's back early because I need you to kiss me? GUESS."
Hamish chuckled, soft but for quite a while. Y/n shoves him, but before he can go off again Hamish is already kissing him for the second time. Both boys relaxed and melted into each other. "Hey," Hamish whispered.
"Hi," Y/n whispered back.
The older boy's thumb brushed over Y/n's cheek. "Let me take you on a real date."
Biting his lip to try and contain his smile, Y/n considered. "Only if you agree to be my boyfriend."
Hamish grinned. "Does this mean we can be study buddies all the time?"
"Will you distract me with kisses like you tried to last time?" Y/n asked.
Tilting his head, Hamish avoided answering. "Not... EVERY time..."
Y/n laughed, shaking his head. "Fine. Deal."
"Deal," Hamish agreed. And they kissed again to seal it. Finally.
154 notes · View notes
jeonjeonggukenergy · 5 years ago
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Anti-Hero
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summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.
pairing ~ jungkook x reader
genre ~ fluff, smut (coming in ch3!) - college!au
wordcount ~ 2.3k
warnings ~ pretty much n/a, mentions of drinking and light smut
a/n ~ v excited for these lil dorks! i thought about combining this with the upcoming chapter but it felt right on its own and i wanted to go ahead and post an update for yall haha. ch 3 will most definitely have some serious smut to look forward to 👀 thank yall for reading, i love and appreciate any form of support or feedback so so much, so feel free to msg me or send me an ask abt whatever you want! 🥰 hope u enjoy this chapter!!!
previous: chapter 1 ~ next: chapter 3 | chapter 4 (coming soon!)
~ read on ao3 ~
CHAPTER 2 ~ cowboy bebop & chill
You couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook. Every time you brought the enamel of your favorite mug to your lips, teeth knocking the rim as you exhaled to cool off your tea, it called back the click of his earrings in your mouth. Whenever you reached behind your ear to tuck away the hair you'd impulsively cropped to your chin this year, it hit the same spot you'd sucked into a bruise on his neck and you shivered. Even your slight headache thanks to the shitty vodka from the pregame reminded you of the wine you'd sought out from him in the first place and never fucking got to drink. 
You found yourself reading over your responses to each other's discussion posts from your film class, trying to find any more justification for this sudden crush than the drunken flirtation that mortified you as soon as you remembered it sober. He did seem to like your directness...but you could easily ascribe that to his similarly loosened-up state. Scanning through your reflections on The Shawshank Redemption and Casablanca, you painstakingly overanalyzed every smiley face and "I loved that part too!" Could he have been into you at all before this? Or had he just eyed you for another quick fuck at a party? Shit, what if he hated you for working him up and then leaving? If he wanted to, you knew he would have easily found someone else to finish the night with. But what if he still held it against you? The image of him bitterly turning aside to find another girl in the crowd, with your hickey still fresh on his jaw, turned your stomach more than you wanted to admit.
Shaking your head with a grounding exhale, you reminded yourself that whoever else he did or didn't hook up with was none of your business. Plus, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy and probably didn't hate you in the first place. Wow, the bar really was so fucking low. Maybe that was part of the reason you were never that bold with boys. Every classmate you'd fallen for so far at college had remained innocently unaware of your feelings, likely because you never worked up the courage to clearly express them. You hadn't even been trying this time, though—this semester had been so busy you'd barely had time for your friends, much less crushes. And now your one blowoff class had become your biggest distraction.
Jungkook, a communications & media major, couldn't afford to lose as much focus in this class as you. Normally near front-and-center, he sat all the way in the corner of the last row, wary of imaginary stares burning through the hopefully-opaque-enough curtain of his hair. Even the risk of zoning out staring at the back of your head stressed him out less than the thought of you doing the same to him.
You walked into class through the back right entrance today so you'd pass Jungkook in the front row, though you could have gone straight to your usual left-side seat from the main door. Knowing you'd never summon the courage to talk to him, you still couldn't help wanting to see his face. You didn't know just what you were looking for—some kind of confirmation or dismissal that would let you just move on with your dry-ass life—but any reason to catch a glimpse of Jungkook was a good one. Today, though, he sat far closer to the entrance than you'd expected, and his proximity stopped you in your tracks a few feet behind him. Eyes dragging down the sculpted form under his soft black sweatsuit, your stare traced the veins in his forearms to reach the hands in his lap. Catching a half-page cartoon ass in your view of the manga he gazed at intently, a snort-laugh escaped you, the sound setting him on high alert. He snapped the book shut, spinning around with eyes wide and still-long hair an understandable mess for a Monday.
"I'm so—"
"I'm so sorry!"
You both shoved out the words at the same time.
A pause swelled between you, eye contact maintained as your mouths fluttered open and shut like fish. Even awkward and off-guard like this, he was just so damn pretty. It felt unreasonable for him to seem as flustered around you as you were around him. Finally, you spoke again, solely to force the conversation forward and put you both out of your misery.
"W-what do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who, like—ugh, I was drunk, I'm so sorry, I never would have been so, yknow, if I was sober, like that's not me I promise, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or—"
"No-no-no-no-no!" Jungkook cut you off, dismissing your barely intelligible apology. Before you could cut him off in return and continue, he held up both hands between you, his eyebrows knit together in a pleading expression. "Are you kidding me? Seriously, I feel so bad, I was kind of drunk too, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable! Please, you have nothing to worry about, it was, uh...I was...good...if...you were." He grew shyer as he continued, drifting off as a hand reached back to rub his neck. A light laugh. "You did make me have to keep my hair long for another few days, though. It's gotten so annoying to take care of, I was planning on cutting it right after the costume."
This admission perked up all your earlier curiosities about him, and a cautious smile spread over your face as Jungkook unconsciously reminded you that he was, in fact, a total dork, rather than the fuckboy you'd irrationally feared him to be.
"Wait, hold up," you snorted again. Gently. "You're telling me you grew out your hair for three, maybe four, months...for a Cowboy Bebop costume?"
"Hey, it was free and way less lame than a wig," he defended himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, he fidgeted uncomfortably, face blushing into a grin as you continued to giggle at him.
"You are such a fucking weeb," you accused lightheartedly.
Jungkook furrowed his brows back together, an anxious hand grazing the spot where you'd marked him again. "Well, you recognized my Spike costume, at least," he pouted. "You're not all innocent."
"I watched one episode with my friend, and it was dubbed," you downplayed. "Isn't watching dubs instead of subs a crime for real anime fans?"
"Actually," his eyes lit up at your rhetorical question. "The dub of Cowboy Bebop is excellent. It's pretty universally considered better than watching the OG with subs. You're right though, that is the general rule."
"Oh man, who knew." Looking down, grinning, you tried to hide how endeared you were by his earnestness. "Well, it was pretty cool, not gonna lie. I guess I kind of get the appeal."
"Would you want to start watching the rest sometime? That's one I just never get tired of," he blurted, then blushed, closing his mouth and working his lips between his teeth as his eyes stayed wide and on you. Jungkook's heart accelerated in his chest, a fist opening and closing at his hip as he tried to decide whether he regretted taking a chance on the question.
You instantly diverted all your mental energy from hoping he couldn't sense your attraction to massively overthinking your response. This was a "Netflix and chill" kind of invite, right? If he wanted you, of course you wanted him, but you had to be sure before you did something else stupid and risked having to find another discussion board buddy.
"Um...yeah, sure," you accepted. "I have to ask, though, do you mean, like...Cowboy Bebop and chill?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to look bolder than you felt. "Or...Cowboy Bebop and just...Cowboy Bebop?"
"I..." Mirroring your playful grin, Jungkook shrugged, not wanting to look like a fuckboy if he answered with the first option but also wondering—were you actually interested in watching this anime with him? The possibility puzzled him, the same way it confused you how he could go bold and then back to his shy weeb-ass self within seconds. You shrugged too, with an anxious exhale of a laugh.
"That was...weird to just say like that, sorry. We can just see where it goes, whatever you want," you backtracked, full of faux-nonchalance. The Google Calendar schedule on your phone suddenly became very interesting. "We could do another day if that works for you, but I'm free after this class once I write my discussion post—I don't have any other homework or meetings today for once."
He nodded quickly, eyebrows up. Swallowing, Jungkook saw the opportunity to show a little more initiative and seized it. "We could do that together even, 'cause we usually jump off each other anyway. So you can come over right after class if you want." He glanced up and to the left for a quick mental inventory. "Oh shit, wait, but I seriously need to clean my apartment first, can we do more like dinner time tonight? You can just come over for ramen or takeout if you want, or eat first or whatever."
"Yeah, that's fine!" you agreed warmly. "Ramen and homework, two birds with one scone. I should probably, like...get your number? So you can send me your address when you're ready or something?" You didn't want to sound too desperate, especially since you knew he was used to it, but you found yourself weirdly excited to experience something he so obviously loved. If you got dicked down too, even better, but you were definitely willing to wait on that part, especially now that this first sober conversation had restored your inhibitions. He had this slightly shy sweetness about him that just made you want to make him happy somehow. You wanted to see more of his cheesy little smile. You wanted to hear the bright laugh that occasionally rang out at the most inappropriate times, during Citizen Kane or attendance. You wanted to watch his light pink lips fall open in bliss as you kissed down his sensitive neck to the trim of his worn-in hoodie...
"Yeah sure, here." The quick touch of his hand over yours snapped you out of your thoughts as he took your phone, ready to type in his number, and—
"Wait, did you say 'two birds with one scone'? Not 'one stone'?"
You blushed furiously. Somehow him calling you out on your quirks embarrassed you more than the indecent daydream he'd interrupted. "Okay, so I saw this tweet a while back where they said 'feed two birds with one scone' to replace 'kill two birds with one stone,' I think it was just some vegan troll being all like 'don't talk about killing birds!' but it stuck with me because I just really fucking love scones."
"You...really fucking love scones?" he repeated in slight sarcasm, eyes down on your phone. You grew even shyer, but continued.
"Yeah, I bake a lot and they're my favorite thing to make. The flavor possibilities are endless and they last for days so I just keep them on hand for breakfast and snacks and to give out to friends. And they go with tea, which is my other favorite thing." Ooh, was he a tea person? Should you bring some tonight? Something earthy, to go with your ramen. Your go-to green sencha, or maybe chrysanthemum? Chamomile?
Jungkook held your phone back out in front of you, but waited silently for you to notice, enjoying the view of wheels turning in your head as you pondered tea pairings. This was the you he was used to, daydreaming in class and going on tangents as dorky as his in discussions. Even from a distance, he'd noticed you consistently gave off a vibe somewhere between absentminded professor and grandma, and this confirmation made you even cuter to him. But the hair still falling over his ears wouldn't let him forget his new physical proof of another side to you.
You finally collected your phone with a mumbly "Oh right, yeah, cool, thanks," that you prayed sounded more chill to him than it did to you.
"I just texted myself, so I have your number too now, and I'll just send you my address when I'm ready, and, uh...yeah!" he rambled a bit in response.
You nodded, confirming. "I'll see you tonight!"
"Yeah, see you tonight."
Jungkook watched you walk to your desk, silently admiring your ass and allowing himself only a moment to savor the memory of half of it filling his hand. A strange nervousness tingled through him. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you all weekend either, and now he had a chance to get closer to you than ever before. He hoped, more than he could remember hoping for anything else, that this would go well, one way or another. He had no idea what you wanted with him, but you had him questioning everything he'd thought he wanted. Easing open his laptop, he pulled up your last discussion board response to him, signed off with a smiley face but backwards.
I like the way you think. (:
He turned his head to read it right-side-up, letting his face scrunch into a smile you wouldn't see.
Meanwhile, though the film thrilled you, you struggled to stay facing forward for the duration of class. You suspected the plot of Rear Window was simply unsettling you, but you swore you could feel Jungkook's eyes on your back. No, he was probably actually watching the movie as usual, or reading his manga if not. You were definitely just being paranoid. Definitely. Probably. Right?
next chapter 
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yixxes · 5 years ago
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Hurt | p.p.
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Warnings: Homophobia, toxic parents/household, maybe a few grammatical errors or spelling mistakes, yall it’s 6 am and I still haven’t slept-
Word Count: 2413
"You make me sick!”  
You slammed the door behind you and you did not look back. It was all so suffocating, your family was so suffocating, living inside of a toxic household with such destructive, closed-minded people was so devastatingly harmful to your health and you couldn’t get away from it. Or, you never had the guts to storm out before. Things had gotten bad in the past, but this time was different from the others. This was no ordinary disagreement or argument. This was a direct attack initiated and orchestrated by the head of the household herself. There was something about the way that she spoke to you. The way that she spewed hate without an ounce of regard for your feelings or the fact that she was talking to another human being, her daughter, if that even counted for anything. The way that everyone else declared the side that they were on by not saying anything at all. You just knew that if you stayed there a second longer, you’d implode or combust. You wanted to vent. To say the words that you had been forced to swallow before you choked on them. There wasn’t a single person in your house that you wanted to speak to, so you rounded a familiar corner and started towards the place that felt more like home than your actual house these days. 
It was dark by the time you reached Peter’s doorstep and he got ready to scold you good when he opened up the door and saw you standing there. “Wh- Y/n!? Did you walk here, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” And then he saw your face. Your stature. Your shoulders were slumped, your cheeks were tear stained and the way that your eyes were filling up made it clear that you weren’t anywhere close to being done crying for the night. “Oh no, babe, what happened?” 
He sounded like he was about to start crying right along with you, and honestly, it was a big possibility. He told you a couple of times before that he had trouble explaining the way that he cared about you. Even before you got together, he cared about you so much as a friend. Before that, he practically idolized you as his crush but that was all at face value. As he got to know you better, he was just as mesmerized by your mind and your heart as he was by your beauty, or so he told you. Anyway, your pain really hit home for him. He hated to see you cry, so you showing up like this really affected him. It made his heart pick up a handful of beats more a minute and made his blood run cold. And when you threw your arms around him and began to sob into his shoulder, he was so overwhelmed that he started to cry, too. 
He’d seen you upset before, sure, any regular human being dealt with complicated emotions, everybody had their share of bad days, but this was different. Peter couldn’t remember ever seeing you like this before. Not only did the sight break his heart, he was also at a loss. He was so worried that he wouldn’t know how to fix whatever was wrong. What if he couldn’t get the tears to stop? Or what if he couldn’t make the pain go away? Peter wrapped his arms around your torso and held you close to him. 
He was new at this, so he tried his very best to choose his words carefully. “You’re okay,” he murmured quietly in your ear. You obviously weren’t okay, but you knew what he meant. You weren’t alright, but you were okay there in his arms. You were safe. “I got you, okay?” He rubbed his open hand up and down your back and it made breathing come just a little easier. “Not gonna let anything happen to you.” The promise was sincere but he made it more with himself and merely let you in on it. Knowing loss the way that he did made his determination to protect what he presently had strong. As long as he was around, he’d guard your happiness just as well as your life. 
Peter walked your hug back a couple of steps so that he could shut the door behind you. For a short while, the two of you stayed just like that. This was probably the closest to that you’d get all night to a cleared head and that was stressing you out. 
“Peter, who was at the-” you pulled yourself off of Peter to look at Aunt May and brought your hands together, rubbing them slowly against one another. “oh. Oh, sweetheart, what happened?”
You hadn’t even told Peter what happened yet, nor did you have a single clue how you were gonna go about it and you told Peter everything. May was a great confidant, but the thought of opening up to her about what happened tonight intimidated you. On the same coin, it was the least that you could do after barging into her home this way. You took in a breath and readied yourself to answer her, but luckily Peter swooped in before you had to say anything. 
“Aunt May, could I have a second with Y/n? Please?” It was almost like he read your mind. 
May nodded, eyeing you with a sad smile. “Of course,” she walked to you anyways, engulfing you in a warm hug. “I’ll be right down the hall if there’s anything that I can do.”
With a smile, you breathed a quiet “thank you” and watched her retreat to her room. As soon as he heard her door close, Peter led you to the couch, making sure to keep hold of one of your hands even after you sat down. Your mind was all over the place and your heart was starting to pick up again. Getting all of this out wasn’t gonna be easy. Peter had no clue what was going on, but that much was clear to him. 
“Hey,” his free hand touched your cheek. “we don’t have to talk about this right now, alright? If you’re not ready, we can find something to do, I’ll make you something to eat, or we can-”
You shook your head, making him stop short. It wasn’t gonna be easy, but you figured the sooner that you got all of this off of your chest, the better. “Remember how... I told you that I kissed Victoria Woodland at Donnie’s back to school party this year?” He nodded without comment, deciding it might be best to listen with as little interruption as possible. It was a confusing start, but he was confident that you’d connect the dots for him. “’N how I was dating Shelly Sinclair last year?” Peter nodded again and you took another breath. He didn’t miss how shaky this one was in comparison to the first one. “Well, my...” you pulled your hand from his and bound your fingers together tight, a nervous tick you had been doing for as long as you could remember. “my parents never knew about it, they..”
You desperately didn’t want to say these words. You didn’t want to tell this story. The deep shame that you felt took the physical form of a set of hands.  With each progressing word, it was like they squeezed tighter and tighter on your throat. 
“My mother expressed more than a couple of times that..” you swallowed thickly, cringing at the compilation of memories of your loving mother saying exactly what you were about to say word for word. “that no daughter of hers would grow to be so sick and weird.” Peter’s eyes closed and he turned his face for a second. He knew exactly where this was going and he hated it. Dread weighed on his heart in a way that he just couldn’t explain. 
You went on to explain how you dated Shelly for six months behind your parents’ back last school year. When things crashed and burned with her, it felt like your entire world was ending, so that’s the way most high school relationships go anyway, and you passed a couple of months of sorrow and heartache off as fatigue and sickness. Your adoring parents fed you cups of medicine and urged you to keep in mind the importance of rest, but naturally, it did nothing for you. They couldn’t reach your hurt. They couldn’t heal you. Even if they knew why you were in pain, they wouldn’t want to help anyways. You told Peter how Mrs. Sinclair and your mother knew each other and were even good friends since before you even knew Shelly. Yet, miraculously, the conversation never came up between Shelly and her mom. Shelly knew that you had to keep things under wraps, after all, so maybe she kept it from her mom too. God, how you wish that were true.
“It came up in casual conversation during a phone call.” Your voice was breaking and so was your resolve. “She couldn’t wait to lay into me as soon as she hung up.” You swallowed hard again, doing the best that you could to mentally prepare yourself for what you were about to say. “She asked me why I wanted to be like that. She called me weird. Said she didn’t raise me like that, she...” You cut yourself off there, tears already beginning to roll, and looked away from him. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt more tears fall. Go on, you scolded yourself. Say it. “S-she said.. she said-”
Peter wanted to let you finish. He truly did, but what he wanted didn’t hold a candle to his overpowering need to comfort you. He couldn’t let you finish that sentence. He wouldn’t. Not when he could see how much it was tearing you apart. If he let you say it, whatever was remaining of your badly bruised spirit would break and dissipate into oblivion, and he couldn’t have that. 
Peter pulled you into a tight hug, the both of your bodies alike leaning forward rather awkwardly, but you didn’t mind it at all, because being held by someone who just accepts you was an indescribable feeling that you wouldn’t trade for the world. Without letting go for a second, he slowly scooted towards you in hopes of getting rid of some of the discomfort and pressed his cheek into the top of your head, doing his best to cry as quietly as he could. Your body shook with cries in his arms and his heart broke all over again. You didn’t deserve this.
At first, Peter really didn’t know what to say, which was fine because he had some time to think about it. The two of you sat there for more than a little while until your breathing finally evened out. 
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” he said, nearly cringing at the broken silence. “you don’t deserve this.” He couldn’t relate to you on this level, but he had absolutely no problem meeting you where you were at and talking you through your own mind. He just knew that it was in heartbreaking shambles at the moment. 
Peter pulled off of you and caught your face in his hands. He needed to look you straight in the eyes and know that he had all of your attention when he said this. “Do you understand me? You don’t deserve any of this.” Occasionally, you could tend to be just a little impressionable, especially when the given situation involved your parents. He needed to make sure that you understood that you, nor anybody else in the entire world, for that matter, did not deserve to be defamed, spoken down to, or bullied for being themselves. “The things that she said... they’re pure evil, but you know none of it’s right. None of it’s true.”
He made quick work of swiping your tears away with his thumbs and shook you gently when you closed your eyes, whispering a soft, “please look at me.” He paused until he saw your eyes again. “You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. I don’t want you to ever apologize to anybody for being who you are, there isn’t a single thing wrong with you,” he shook his head and you frowned at the tears that spilled down his cheeks. “there’s not a single thing that I would change, okay?”
You nodded at his words, wishing a little less that you could shy away from him. This was the most intimate moment that the two of you had shared so far in your relationship. You felt vulnerable and exposed, but you couldn’t disregard the positive outcome. How nice it was to be yourself, loved, and accepted all at the same time.
“I’m sorry that she hurt you, I’m... I’m so sorry, and I’m sorry that I’m not saying the right thing, because honestly, I have no idea what I’m supposed to say right now, but I’ll spend the rest of the night thinking. I’ll say the right thing, I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I-I’ll be right here beside you until things get better, I promise.” How would things get better and where would anybody even start? He had no clue, neither of you did, but he knew that his words were true and that he’d be true to his word. “They’ll get better, they’re just bad right now, I...”  Peter sighed, defeated because he had no idea how much his words meant to you. “I’ll be right there, always. Until things get better and every time after.”
You watched his face fall when he had to wipe away more of your tears, but eyed the small smile on your face hopefully. 
“You’re incredible,” he murmured softly. “her words can’t change how amazing you are. And her words could never change the way that I love you. I know it seems impossible right now, but... please try not to let it change the way that you love yourself either.”
Things were bad right now. So inexplicably bad, but they could be worse. You could be going through all of this alone, but looking straight ahead and seeing this lovable, beautiful soul right in front of you, you realized that you were about as far from alone as you could possibly get. 
A/N: Thank you sm for reading 💓 shout out to my lovely relatives for inspiring me to write this 🙃 Stay safe, be strong, spread love, be kind to one another ✨
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golbrocklovely · 5 years ago
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give your heart a break // colby brock - chapter five: the jealousy
A/N: so i’m about to go out with a friend so if this isn’t all fixed and there are some spelling mistakes, i’ll be fixing it later. i just wanted to post it for yall since you guys have been asking for this chapter. it’s a good one, trust me. alrighty, hope you enjoy. let me know what you think! byeeee! :)
story description
taglist: @azurebrock , @daddydobrock , @colbyf-ingbrock , @cuddlingwithcolby , @absolute-randomness-forever , @lovelycolby , @codename-nyx , @sweetxplr , @absolutelynobodyposts
trigger warning: SMUT, angst, cursing, partying, drinking, mentions of hooking up
word count: 2608
~~~~~~~~~~~
seven months, three weeks, five days
“So speaking of boyfriends... how are you and Colby doing?” Kat smirked, turning her head to me.
“Yes, how is our emo, lover-boy doing?” Tara asked, giving me the same look.
I rolled my eyes. “First off, not my boyfriend. Secondly, we’re good.”
“You’re doing a lot better than good if you guys are fucking.” Tara stated bluntly.
“Wait you’re having sex?! You didn’t tell me that.” Kat exclaimed quietly, smacking my arm dramatically.
I snickered. “I thought I told you! Anyways, yes; me and Colby are having sex. But it’s... different.”
“What do you mean by different?” Tara questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“Well for starters, we’ve separated romantic stuff from sexual stuff,” I explained. “We can kiss during sex but not when we cuddle and whatnot. And also there’s no romantic stuff after sex. We just kinda get up and go.”
“Why are you guys doing it like that?” Kat laughed.
“Because he and I have made it clear that neither one of us want to catch feelings for the other, so we think this is the best way.” I shrugged, “Plus, we’ve both agreed that if we want to see other people, we can.”
“We... or him?” Tara retorted.
“What do you mean?” I queried.
“Look. I love Colby, but I love you more. You have to be honest with yourself. Are you sure that what he wants is what you want?” Tara argued.
“Yeah. I mean I guess so.” I answered.
Tara sighed. “All I’m saying is if he’s the one making all the rules, this isn’t really a 50/50 relationship. And I know y’all are just friends with benefits, but those benefits need to go both ways.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.” I remarked.
“Let’s just say before Jake, I was a bit crazy.” Tara joked.
Kat smiled. “You still are.”
“Shut up!” Tara giggled, pushing Kat.
~~~
I decided that after hanging out with Tara and Kat, I wanted to see Colby. It had honestly become part of my routine to come over mid-day and hang with him if he wasn’t doing anything. He even gave me a spare key so I could just come in whenever.
I walked down the hall to his place, pulling his key out of my pocket. I unlocked the door and opened it.
“Hey Colby, I was thinking of-” I started.
A brunette girl swung herself off of Colby, who jumped up when he heard my voice.
Oh my god... he was actually hooking up with someone else.
“Hey Zo. Uh uh what’s up?” Colby stammered.
I huffed. “Nothing much, Colbs. Seems like you’re busy. I could leave if you want.”
“Um that’s okay. Stacy was just leaving anyway.” He chuckled uncomfortably.
Stacy cleared her throat and stood up slowly, fixing her clothes. “Yeah, I gotta go. Thanks for your help.”
I stayed silent as she grabbed her stuff and walked up to Colby, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and whispering goodbye.
I stared at Colby as Stacy left, my eyes never leaving his. When I finally heard the door close, he exhaled. “Um so how-”
“Are you serious, Colby?” I hissed.
Colby furrowed his brows. “What?”
“Stacy? Stacy fucking Jackson? You know she’s only using you, right? She’s been bouncing from influencer to influencer since she got to LA last year. We literally used to joke about how much of a user she was.” I groaned. “At least she’s uped her ranks since she’s now hooking up with you.”
Colby scoffed. “Don’t be like that. She came over because she had a question about editing and-”
“Her tongue accidentally landed in your mouth. A tale as old as time.” I sassed.
“What’s with the attitude? It’s not like I’m breaking our rules.” He reminded.
“Attitude? You think this is me giving you attitude? No. You see, this is me being fucking angry at the fact that you are hooking up with Stacy.” I jeered.
“You sound jealous.” He speculated, a devilish look in his eye.
“I’m not jealous!” I hollered. I stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. “The whole reason we started this friends-with-benefits thing is because you felt like you couldn’t have a relationship with any other girl out here because they were all using you. Now you’re hooking up with the biggest user in L.A.?”
“I’m not hooking up with her. We made out. That’s it.” Colby informed, going into his kitchen.
“Only because I came in.” I followed him.
Colby opened his fridge, grabbing a water bottle. “You arguing with me really isn’t helping the jealousy thing.”
“Fuck you, I’m not jealous.” I deadpanned.
He paused. “Look, I thought allowing us to see other people while still doing this was something we both agreed with. If you didn’t want me to go hook up with other girls, you should have said something.”
“Have you hooked up with other girls?” I crossed my arms uncomfortably.
He shrugged. “Maybe. Have you hooked up with any guys?”
“No. I thought…” I trailed off.
“You thought what?” Colby took a drink from his bottle.
“…Why would you wanna hook up with other people?” I inquired.
“Because what we have isn’t serious.” He replied.
I felt my stomach drop and my heart skip a beat.
Why did his words hurt so bad?
“Right. So, if I hooked up with some random guy, you wouldn’t care.” I doubted.
“No. Hell, I encourage it.” He formed a tight-lipped smile.
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Any guy?”
“Yeah. Whoever. It doesn’t matter to me.” Colby leaned against his counter.
“Okay.” I nodded my head, slowly turning towards his door to leave.
As I opened it, I stopped and spun back to him, smirking. “Hey… isn’t there a party tonight?”
~~~
I glanced around at the party taking place, sighing deeply and taking a long drink from my cup. I had been at this party for over three hours and regretted it.
I came here with the intention of hooking up with someone, literally anyone, just to prove Colby wrong.
But why did I want to prove him wrong?
Maybe because I was actually… jealous, of him and Stacy.
“Damn… I need more alcohol.” I sang to myself drunkenly.
As I poured more into my cup, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around and found Mike smiling down at me.
“Hey Zoe. What’s up?” Mike asked kindly.
“Nothing. Just drinking my feelings away.” I mentioned, smiling lazily.
He slid his cup in front of me. “Cheers to that.”
I laughed, pouring some vodka into his cup.
“What’s with all the emotions? What’s gotten you upset?” Mike queried.
“Colby.” I grumbled.
Mike chuckled. “Ahh. Our favorite emo king. What he do?”
“He hooked up with Stacy Jackson.” I informed.
He scrunched his face up. “That bitch?”
“Yeah. And I caught him doing it.” I took a swig from my drink.
“Aren’t you two-” Mike began.
“No, we are not together!” I exclaimed, groaning. “We’ve hooked up a bunch and now he made up these rules that we can hook up with other people but I don’t think I want us to.”
He gasped dramatically. “Oh no. Are you catching-”
I interjected again. “Feelings? No. But like, why do we need to hook up with other people when we have each other? It’s just dumb.”
“Sure.” Mike agreed.
“Plus, unless we get tested monthly, we could give each other STDs.” I reasoned.
He nodded his head. “Right.”
“And plus it’s just stupid.” I whined.
He bit back a smile. “You kinda already said that.”
I stared down at my cup. “…I have been drinking a lot.”
“Well, if you’re that upset with him hooking up with Stacy, why don’t you hook up with someone?” Mike suggested.
“I wanted to, but no one at this party is interesting enough for me. Plus, I don’t really want to do a one-night stand.” I confessed. “Making out is fine though.”
Mike took a sip from his drink and I followed suit, a light silence falling over us.
“You wanna make out?”
I choked suddenly, coughing into my arm. “What?!”
“You heard me.” Mike smirked.
I felt a weird blush come to my face. “Mike…”
“It’s definitely one way to get back at him.” He joked.
“I don’t know.” I mumbled.
“Look, all I’m saying is, if you decide to say yes, it won’t go any further than kissing. And for this one time offer, I will gladly forget it happened after tonight. Never bringing it up again. Never telling any of our friends.” Mike offered.
“I-I…” I stuttered.
“Just a thought. Come find me if you wanna.” He winked, walking away and heading towards the living room of the party.
I shouldn’t do this. This is sort of wrong, right?
But there was a voice inside my head that thought about what Tara said. Colby and I's relationship was not an even split. He was making all the rules and just expecting me to follow them.
And just because I don’t like him hooking up with other girls doesn’t mean I’m jealous! I’m just... upset.
I grabbed the bottle of alcohol I had from before, pouring out two shots and drinking them down hastily. I placed the bottle back on the counter and followed the way Mike had gone.
I found him not long after: sitting on the couch next to Colby.
Well... this was gonna be fun.
"Hey Mike?" I called to him.
He and Colby gazed up at me. “Yeah?” He responded.
"I think I’m gonna take you up on your offer." I stated breathlessly marching up to him.
Mike smirked as I straddled his lap, leaning into him and kissing him passionately. His lips tasted like fruity alcohol. His tongue found its way into my mouth as he pulled me closer to him.
I suddenly felt a hand grab my arm and yank me away from Mike’s lips. I looked up and saw Colby glaring down at me.
He pulled me off of Mike and dragged me to a door that led into a bathroom. He slammed the door shut, locking it quickly.
The room felt heavy as he paused before he spoke.
"Are you fucking serious?" Colby barked
I leaned against the counter cockily. "What’s the matter?"
"Mike... you’re hooking up with Mike?!" He fumed.
I shrugged. "You said any guy."
"Yeah well I thought friends would kinda be off limits. Besides you don’t even like Mike like that." He argued.
"Who says I have to like him to fuck him?" I deadpanned.
“Don’t be dramatic.” He hissed.
I scoffed. “Excuse me? Dramatic? You think this is me being dramatic? I’m sorry, but who’s the one that pulled the other into a bathroom, Cole?”
“Oooh, first name. I must be in trouble.” Colby sneered.
I paused for a second, clicking my tongue. “You sound jealous.”
“What?” He replied.
“You heard me. You sound-”
“Jealous? Right.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Why else would you pull me off of Mike… unless you didn’t want me to hook up with him?”
Colby stayed silent; his arms crossed tight as he gazed down at the floor.
“You know what, Colby? Fuck you.” I pointed, shoving my finger onto his chest.
His icy, dark blue eyes glared into mine.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, alright? You’ve made it very apparent we’re just friends, so you have no say in whether or not I fuck someone else or not. So I’m gonna go out there and me and Mike are gonna have a good fucking time.” I ranted.
I strutted past Colby, reaching the door in a second. As I unlocked the door and began to open it, it was slammed shut from behind by Colby’s hand. He spun me around, smashing his body and pinning me up against the door. His lips were immediately on mine, his tongue invading my mouth.
I gasped into the kiss. Colby’s hands gripped my hips, his grinding into mine. Our tongues glided against each other’s. His hands danced down my thighs, pulling them around his waist and lifting me up against the door. He pulled his lips away forcefully, giving me only moments to catch my breath.
“You’re not going out there and fucking Mike,” He stated lustfully. “I’m the only one that can fuck you.”
He yanked my dress up, finding my underwear and pushing it to the side. His fingers began to rub my clit, eliciting moans from me.
“I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. You’re already getting so wet for me.” He chuckled darkly.
Colby began to finger me, causing a whine to escape my mouth suddenly. I dug my nails into his shoulders, trying to hold back any more noises.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, fingering me harder.
I nodded hastily. “Yes.”
“Then say it. Say you want me to fuck you.” He demanded.
I exhaled. “Colby please.”
“Please what?” He bit his lip.
“Fuck me Colby, please.” I whimpered breathlessly.
He smirked. “Gladly.”
Colby rushed me over to the counter, placing me down and pulling out a condom. He unzipped and tugged his jeans and underwear down, his cock springing free. He jerked himself for a few seconds as stared at me. He ripped the wrapper open, sliding the condom down his shaft.
“Turn around.” He ordered.
I spun around, my body facing the bathroom mirror. I watched Colby pull down my panties and spread my legs.
“I want you to watch me fuck you from behind.” He growled into my ear.
Colby bent me over, his cock playing with my entrance. I bit my lip as he teasingly entered me, groans falling from both our lips.
Instantly, he began to thrust into me, his pace already fast. His grasp on my hips was tight, his fingerprints already starting to leave marks.
“You’re mine, you know that? You’re mine.” Colby grunted, gazing at me through the mirror.
He fucked into me deeper, my eyes rolling back at the feeling.
I finally stared at him. “If I’m yours, then you’re mine.”
Colby raised an eyebrow at me, his rhythm not faltering.
“I’ll gladly be yours if you’ll be mine.” I muttered, my eyes fluttering from the pleasure.
He slowed himself for a moment, bringing my body up against his. He kissed along my neck sweetly, lips landing on my ear.
“No one else. Just us?” He whispered.
“Exactly…” I agreed.
His lips stayed under my ear sucking on my sensitive spot, causing tingles to run down my spine. He pulled out suddenly, turning me around to face him. We looked into each other’s eyes as Colby leaned in and kissed me tenderly.
He tore his lips away from mine, lining himself back up. He slid in slowly, my body shaking from how sensitive I was.
He thrusted into me gentle at first, but it began to build up back to where it was. Noises fell from our lips as he pounded harder and harder. I could feel myself building up, unable to hold back.
I whined. “Colby, fuck. I’m gonna-”
“Keep your eyes on me, baby.” He uttered.
I looked into his eyes, not able to pull myself away as my orgasm hit me hard. I moaned loudly, gripping the counter and his waist.
Colby thrusted three more times and then grunted loudly, coming undone himself.
We finally relaxed against each other, my head falling onto his shoulder.
He kissed my cheek sweetly, his breath fanning against my neck. “No one else.”
<< CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 6 >>
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whittakerjodie · 5 years ago
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and it Wasn’t Quite You (13th Doctor X Reader)
Request:  13th x reader request: I was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort fic? The reader and 13 are in an established relationship. The reader is slightly insecure and during a trip she catches a girl/alien girl kissing the doctor (the doctor not kidding back but it looks like it?) I’m sorry if this a bit confusing and long 😓 Lots of fluff please! Thank you 🙏 :) - from @biscuitfam​
A/N: ooooo i’ve been going through a funk the last few days and this totally regenerated my writing ability! Yay!! Also, might’ve laid the angst on heavier than the fluff whoops. ALSO ALSO it’s important to me that yall know the doctor and the master were in a band. Please know this. please. 
Words: 3k
Warnings: jealousy, insecurity that isn’t true but we all have it, hot alien princess’s making a move on your hot alien girlfriend, obscure Doctor who eu references, 
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   Your adventure began as most did; with the Doctor rambling as she ran around the console, describing a planet she’d been wanting to visit. When she first mentioned Princess Osea, you were hardly listening. The Doctor met so many people on so many adventures that you didn’t immediately attach any importance to the Doctor’s story of meeting her. 
   When you stepped out of the TARDIS, quite the crowd was there to greet you. There was a loud fanfare coming from all sides of the crowd.  It was like an entire parade had been arranged just for your arrival. Behind the people stood shining towers, stretching far beyond the limits of your vision. Each one was made out of a golden material, complimenting the light pink sky filled with dozens of other planets. You didn’t realize your mouth had been hanging open for so long before you heard the Doctor giggle softly. Her finger quickly pushed your chin up, a move that made you blush despite how quickly it lasted. 
    It’d only been two months or so since the two of you had decided to make things official. Well, as official as you could make things with a timelord who spent all her time gallivanting around the universe. You didn’t exactly use the term ‘girlfriend’ but your relationship had gotten a little past that point by now. Before you could grab her hand to hold it as you walked, she was raising hers to shake hands with the woman in front of you. 
   You’d been staring at the Doctor so long, you didn’t realize that the five of you had reached the end of the red carpet, where a large golden throne stood. On top of the throne sat one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, save for the Doctor. She was tall- at least, you thought she was, judging by the extremely long, toned legs that were peeking out of her large ruffled orange dress. Her cheeks were a darker blue than the rest of her skin- was she blushing? 
“Doctor,” She drawled. Her arm extended forward to offer the back of her hand to the Doctor, who placed a quick kiss upon it. You didn’t take a lot of notice to this either; travelling with the Doctor for years meant you were fairly accustomed to different cultural expectations and displays. She was simply addressing royalty, right? “It’s so lovely to see you again.” 
“I could say the same, princess Osea. How are things?” 
“Much better, now. I wish we could’ve organized more for your arrival, but it was rather short notice.” You glanced again at the massive crowd that was gathered, complete with streamers and music. This wasn’t enough? 
“Oh it’s wonderful,” The Doctor said. “I did land at the right time, I hope? I’ve been dying to show these four the Omicron Eclipse for ages.” 
“And you’ll be able to. Hello, by the way!” She gave a small wave and a cheeky smile to the four of you before turning back to the Doctor and the Doctor alone. You winced as Osea grabbed both the Doctor’s hands, holding them. The look in her eye was… warm. Loving. You didn’t like that much either. “We’ve prepared a feast for tonight, which will be followed by a performance by the Orchestra-” 
“Oh! Is that the one that uses the Perigosto sticks? Love a perigosto stick, me” The Doctor interrupted cheerfully. Oh, that was an inside thing you didn’t know about. The Princess nodded, grinning even wider. 
“You remembered! I had a few players added just for you.That’s not the only surprise. After the orchestra plays we’ll have a ceremonial wreath burning on Mount Aiq’ans, where we’ll watch the eclipse.” 
   Okay, that did seem rather cool. The Doctor turned back to You and the rest of the fam with two thumbs up. Everyone else answered with their own excited thumbs but you resorted to a hesitant smile. As Osea stood up from her throne you felt your awkwardness increase tenfold. She was tall. Not only that, but the way the sun shined on her as she stood highlighted thousands of sparkling freckles you hadn’t noticed before. She was truly glowing, twirling her flowing black hair in between her fingers. 
   You gulped, half of you intimidated by her beauty and the other really attracted to her. Not the time to gay panic, you thought. To offset the panic you glanced at the Doctor, only to find that she was also staring up at Osea. It wasn’t inherently romantic, but you couldn’t deny that your heart twinged at the long established friendship clearly apparent between the two. Their words were laced with a loving familiarity, and the way they looked at each other made your cheeks burn. Neither of them seemed to notice your gloom as Osea linked her arm with the Doctors and began to lead all of you through a doorway on the right into the castle. 
____________________________________________
“You’re not going to eat anything?” Ryan asked. You stared right past him at the Doctor and Osea, who were laughing as they recounted the last time they’d seen each other. Fingers tightly gripping your glass, you shook your head to answer Ryan. He turned and whispered something to Yaz as you sipped your drink, trying not to be bothered. Just a friend, you reminded yourself. That’s all they are. Friends making up for lost time. 
   Your food had remained untouched- you doubted you’d ever have enough appetite to finish it anyway. The feast was more elaborate than the welcome parade. The tables seemed to stretch for miles, every inch of them covered in platters of different foods. The Doctor must’ve done something really spectacular to warrant this kind of treatment for all of you. Or maybe it was just a regular ceremony they did every time the eclipse happened. Or maybe the princess was just so in love with her- 
“Y/N, you remember that right?” Your head whipped towards the Doctor, who was looking at you expectantly. You hated how beautiful she looked in that moment; eyes shining with tears from laughter, cheeks red with warmth and lips stretched into a smile. How were you supposed to wallow in misery over something small when an angel was addressing you?
“Sorry I um-” Then, your gaze landed on the Princess, who was watching you with a somewhat disdainful look. It wasn’t mean, but it seemed like she was rather irritated at you causing a pause in the conversation. “Sorry, Doctor, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?” 
“She was asking you if you remembered falling into an Eiccen pit?” Your face warmed even further. You didn’t know the Doctor had been telling that story as well. It was embarrassing; you thought it was funny that the grass felt so wobbly and the next thing you knew you’d fallen ten feet into a pit full of jelly that turned your skin green. And the Doctor was just sharing it with this.. This… goddess sitting next to her?!? 
“You alright, Y/N?” the Doctor asked, her hand rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. You blushed even harder, avoiding the princess’ gaze, which you could feel landing on you. You couldn’t let her know that you were embarrassed or weak or less than her. Not when your girlfriend was sitting there. Not when you were getting the feeling that the Princess wanted a little bit more than friendship from said girlfriend. 
“Everything's fine,” You whispered. When the Doctor looked unconvinced, you cleared your throat and spoke up. “Of course I remember it, but I also remember you falling in right after me” The whole table laughed and turned back to the Princess for her next comment. You sighed in relief as the weight was lifted off of you, but you couldn’t quite stop the feeling of being a third wheel pressing back in on you. 
__________________________
   Tears dripped down your cheeks. You didn’t bother wiping them away at this point; every second the orchestra spent playing was a second the music washed over your body, mind, and soul in the most wonderful way. It’d been at least 15 minutes since they started playing, but you couldn’t quite grasp onto any specific thought or measure of time when the hundreds of instruments sounded from the stage. 
  There wasn’t any earthly way to describe the sound that filled the auditorium. It truly was amazing, and did wonders to your spirit after dinner had gone so sourly. 
“You like it?” the Doctor asked. She was standing next to you, eyes taking in your crying face. She wiped your tears away with her sleeve, smiling. “It can be a little overwhelming, but that’s why they’re one of the most famous Orchestras in the 81st century. “ 
“Doctor, I love it,” You whispered with a tremble in your voice. She smiled wider, then pointed to the right of the orchestra. 
“Do you see that, the long stick? That’s a perigosto stick. Used to play one of those when I was a kid.” 
“I thought guitar was more your style” You laughed, remembering how musical her 12th form had been. 
“Oh it is but not when I was at the academy. Used to be in a band, actually.” 
“You’re kidding?!” 
“Never,” She laughed. “Well, sometimes. But not this time. Gallifrey hot five, we called ourselves” 
You shook your head, assuming that she must be joking. Then, when you took in her completely serious face you gasped. “No, you’re serious? The Gallifrey hot five?” 
She giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, we were a little cheesy back then. But I did, admittedly, do smashing on the perigosto.” 
“You’ll have to play for us sometime” Your face fell into a frown as you realized Osea was standing to the right of the Doctor. A little too closely, an observation you also made. You tuned out the Doctor promising to do just that, trying to focus back on the music. 
   You felt ridiculous for feeling so jealous, but you couldn’t help it; you were a normal human from earth. You didn’t have sparkling skin or flowing hair or long, beautiful legs. You weren’t a princess. She was so much… more than you, it seemed. The Doctor and her seemed so close. Had they ever-?
    It seemed like in the blink of an eye you were on top of Mount Aiq’ans, facing a wreath larger than a house. Vines and flowers were arranged in an elaborate circle, waiting for fire to consume them. Supposedly, the custom was to look through the ring of fire at the moment the planets eclipsed one another. You’d also heard that there was significance for one of the planet's main religions, but you couldn’t confirm or deny that based on your attention lapses. 
The princess held a long torch in her hand, waiting for the right moment. Suddenly she turned back to the Doctor, grinning. “Doctor, I would love for you to do the honors.” 
The Doctor chuckled nervously, accepting the torch. You took a step back from it’s heat, unable to escape your own, which crept through your veins as the Princess gave the Doctor the highest honor of the evening. “Alright then,” The Doctor said. She stepped forward, the Princess stepping aside to let her through. 
“This is so cool” Ryan murmured. You nodded, not because you believed it but because you wanted to keep up the facade that you did. Really, it’d just been a long day and you were tired of feeling like second best to an alien you’d never even met before. Light assaulted your eyes as the wreath went up in flames, the cheers of everyone present pressing against you from every side. It was all rather overwhelming and you ignored everything and everyone, eyes focusing on the eclipse with a stubbornness you’d never felt before. You shrugged off your jacket to offset the new heat, enjoying the moment for what it was. 
______________________________________
The walk back to the castle had been exhausting. Your legs were tired and everyone else seemed to be having the best time talking and laughing with one another. No matter how hard you tried to keep a hold of the memory of the eclipse, your mind could only hyper-focus on the Princess and the Doctor walking ahead of you. Did it even matter what they were talking about at this point? Clearly they’d known each other for ages and you’d never be as good as- no, stop that, you told yourself as your throat started to tighten. Stop that. 
You set your jacket on the throne as everyone carried out the final conversation for the evening. The TARDIS seemed to be calling your name, as you could feel an oddly warm force drawing you back towards it. You made quick work of saying your goodbye to the Princess, walking back towards the space-time machine with the fam in tow. 
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Yaz asked as soon as the doors shut. You leaned against them, nodding. 
“Yeah, course, I’m perfect.” 
“Well… whatever it is, I hope you had fun tonight at least. Oh- you forgot your jacket.” You looked at your shoulders, noticing that Yaz was right.
“Thanks, Yaz,” She nodded and gave you a quick hug, disappearing into the TARDIS hallway. You smiled at your friend's generous words. The smile dropped off the face of the earth, however, as your eyes took in the scene before you. They were standing far away, but it was all too easy to make out Osea’s hands cupping your girlfriends cheeks, drawing her in for a heated kiss. 
   A gasp left your lips and you quickly threw the doors shut, heart racing. No. No way you’d seen what you’d just seen. Your brain was moving a mile a minute, stomach turning over. Some unknown force-the TARDIS probably, let you know that the Doctor was coming in soon. Scared embarrassed, and seconds from bursting into tears, you sprinted into the hallway and into your room, letting the TARDIS dramatically slam the door for you.  
   Tears started to fall from your eyes again, but not due to an ethereal beauty. These were uncontrollable because of a poisonous, fiery sorrow that you couldn’t understand because you couldn’t understand what you’d just seen. Or maybe you could. Maybe you were right and Osea was so much more than you, so more beautiful, and interesting, and-
“Y/N?” there was a furious knocking on your door, joining the Doctors quick tone. “Y/N, please, I need to explain what just happened.” 
You leaned against the door, letting yourself slide to the floor. You couldn’t face her. Not yet, not like this. “Doctor…” 
You could hear rustling from the other side, like she was copying your position. “Y/N, I had no idea that Osea.. felt that way. I definitely don’t reciprocate it. I made sure she knew that after she kissed me, you have to know that.” 
“You don’t?” You sniffled. “You just seemed… like, you guys knew each other so well and she’s so pretty and-” 
“Yes, she is pretty, by several universal standards. Yes, we know each other well. But she will never be- she never could be- she’s not you, y/n. No one could ever best you.” 
   Temporarily, your breath came to a standstill as you let her words echo through the air. Your hand landed against the hard surface of the door, suddenly longing to disintegrate it so you could instead feel the Doctor’s soft hand in yours. The TARDIS granted your request and the door slid open, sending the two of you into a collision as soon as the support was gone. You shrieked slightly as you fell into her arms and she fell into yours, landing in an odd heap. 
Instead of helping you up, her arms wound around your figure, holding you closer. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume things” You whimpered against her chest. “She’s just so…” 
“Don’t finish that sentence, y/n. Because I know whatever you say isn’t going to be true.” Her lips planted a kiss against your temple, then a second against your cheek. Finally, she pressed her lips to yours. Forehead resting against you, she pulled back and whispered. “I need to know that you know that I love you. Do you know that?” 
   Tear slipping past your eye you nodded, letting her pull you back in for another kiss. Relief was flooding through your system, mixing with love for the Doctor to create a mood a thousand times better than the one that had been plaguing you all day. While she carried you to bed and tucked you in, the Doctor dedicated her breath to informing you of all the reasons why she loved you. You were pretty sure she carried on even after you fell asleep, because when you woke up in the morning her arms were still wrapped around you, mouth hung open like she’d been mid-sentence when sleep claimed her.
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waejinyoung · 4 years ago
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Can’t Swim - EP . 6
word count: 4.8k+
a/n: dont hate me pls, i swear Jinyoung is okay... kinda. yall gonna hate me for this ending too
warning: swearing, hospital setting, mentioning of injuries
EP . 1 , EP . 2 , EP . 3 , EP . 4 , EP . 5 , EP . 6 , EP .7 , EP . 8 , EP . 9
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The day started well but it didn’t last long. The call from Jooheon led the day to plummet into a shit hole. The eco hotel was now under your guys’ belt but Jinyoung was now a patient in the local hospital. Shit really hit the fan.
Monday Afternoon
You had rushed back into the meeting room and said your apologies to both Beck and Mr Chan. You were sure this was a good enough reason to rush out of an important meeting like this one. You took note to let them both know the reason why you had to leave once things had died down.
Now you were at the hospital outside of Jinyoung’s room waiting for the doctor to come out. What could have gone wrong for him to be hospitalised?
“Miss?” The doctor left Jinyoung’s room and saw your concerned frame.
“Yes. Is Jinyoung okay?”
“His condition is currently stable. We are running some scans to check his condition. We’ll be able to comment in better detail once the results are out.”
“What did he come to the hospital with?” She looked up at you after rereading Jinyoung’s record.
“It looks like he was strangled. He also seemed to have taken a great impact in his right eye, he mentioned momentarily not seeing hence why we need to run some things.”
“Doc, you’re telling me he was strangled and punched.”
“Not punched. He was strangled up against a wall to the point where he passed out. The suspect left him to drop causing the patient’s eye to collide with a surface.” You understood the collision analysis. It was possible to hit something when falling in the leisure centre. Stairs, fencing, shower steps, (etc).
“And have the authorities found out who did it?”
“A male by the name of Max Poach. He had some minor scratches, most likely by Mr Park whilst trying to resist the strangling although I can’t confirm. He’s in a check-up room near reception for your interest.” Your face dropped. He took it this far…
With that the doctor went back to doing her rounds leaving you to process all of what you just heard. Max left Jinyoung there passed out? He took whatever it he was building up inside, all the rage and anger and acted so viciously all for what? You didn’t even know if you could step inside Jinyoung’s room. Whilst you were debating with your head in your knees on your seat you heard a load of rushing footsteps coming your way. You couldn’t even bother lifting your head up to see who they were. They stopped in front of you before entering the room. Who did you have to confront?
“Y/N?” Sounds like Mark.
“It’s my fault. It’s all my fucking fault.” Mark looked at Jaebeom who was beside him. The rest stayed at JYP to continue with their company meeting. If it was a serious case under their judgement they decided they would call the rest to come.
“How is he?” You picked up on Jaebeom’s presence too.
“I just came.. I-I don’t…” You started sobbing. You couldn’t bring yourself to enter the room. You didn’t want to see the damage done to someone you… you didn’t even know… did you love him?
“Shhh… Y/N. None of this is your fau-“ Mark tried to calm you down but you predicted this phrase to escape his mouth.
“It is Mark. These two know of each other because of me. They had a serious fight because of me. If I was just there today… may-maybe just maybe I could have stopped it.”
“You weren’t teaching today?” Jaebeom was confused.
“I-I had a meeting with that important client I men-mentioned last time we met. Usually when I don’t come to lessons, Max takes over. Jooheon, my boss, rang to say everything was fine but it’s not f-fine.” You were practically crying at this rate. You couldn’t believe things had gone too far. You imagine what sort of hopeless situation Jinyoung must have been in. Strangled and left passed out. It just triggered you to cry more.
“Y/N. Me and Jaebeom are going to go inside. You can join us soon once you’ve calmed down and ready, okay?” Mark kneeled down to your level and made sure to make eye contact, you looked up at both of them and gave them a slight nod.
“Just knock and we’ll be there. Don’t worry. We’ll get through this Y/N.” Jaebeom patted your head as they passed you and entered the room.
THIRD PERSON POV
Mark and Jaebeom entered the room slowly just in case Jinyoung was asleep resting. This wasn’t the case. Jinyoung was up and turned his head slowly towards his members.
He had bandaging wrapped around his neck restraining him from any sudden movements. Packed cushioning on his right eye held by some more bandaging. The colour from his face had drained. He was already pale but now he was just like a sheet of paper. He looked ill. The life out of him sucked out. What the fuck had Max done…
“Before you ask, yes she’s here. She’s trying to muster up the courage to come in. She’ll be here once she’s ready.” Max beat Jinyoung to his question.
“I don’t blame her. Look at me.” Jinyoung signalled at his battered state.
“We all know you could have retaliated but it’s too risky. You have a lot on the line. The group being one of them so thank you.” Jaebeom grabbed a chair and sat near Jinyoung.
“Next time beat the shit out of him though. You have our permission. I don’t care what we have to go through to clear your name. You’re still human at the end of the day, you don’t deserve to be treated like this.” Mark bursted in anger. His duality would scare anyone. He entered calm and composed only to set alight as soon as he spoke. He wasn’t having it.
“Will there even be a n-next time? He was caught on camera. I overheard the d-doctors talking about officers b-beside him throughout his check-up.” Jinyoung spoke. His voice sounded groggy.
“He’ll probably just be charged or some sort of warning. He’ll probably be sacked too, he works with people, I’m sure the centre won’t let him continue.” Jaebeom gathered.
“This guy must be a maniac. He just ruined his life over a female. I know you have an interest in her, but you need to think for yourself before anyone else.” Mark clarified. He didn’t get why someone would resort to violence without trying to sort out the situation like civil people. Similar to Y/N’s thought.
“She must be so conflicted.” Jinyoung struggled to voice his opinion. It hurt for him to speak. He just hoped his vocal cords weren’t damaged, nothing permanent at least. Doc said she’d clarify him of the results to confirm any damage, aware of his profession. Singing is his life; He wasn’t going to lose his pride possession that easily.
“If she comes, can you guys give us some time?” The other two nodded.
“Your life was on the line yet you’re here thinking about her. You’re not just interested bro, you’re whipped.” Jaebeom gave a sneaky smirk trying to lighten the mood up. Jinyoung’s expression changed showing some form of life; He smiled knowing what Jaebeom had said was right.
“What did the doctor say?” Mark was still really concerned.
“V-vocal cords. She’s checking them.”
“Fuck my life. It’s that bad. Should I ring the others to come?”
Jinyoung waved his hands no, “I-I don’t want to handle questions. I-I can barely speak.”
Suddenly the 3 guys turned their heads due to a click near the door. Y/N had built up courage to check Jinyoung’s condition. She had enough of imagining and just wanted to know how bad he was.
Y/N’S POV
You took a deep breath in. You could do this. You would have to see him at one point anyways so just do it now instead of eating away on your own sanity. With that, you got a good grip of the door handle and pushed the door open.
“… I-I can barely speak.” You heard the ending of a sentence by a croaky voice. It started to settle in even more how bad Jinyoung’s condition was.
You could only see the edge of Jinyoung’s bed when you entered but you made instant eye contact with Mark. He gave you a reassuring smile which prompted you to walk in a little further.
“We’ll be outside.” Mark signalled his head towards the door to Jaebeom. Jaebeom got the idea of who had entered the room.
The two walked past you. Jaebeom gave you a brotherly pat on the shoulder as they left. You could do this.
You took small steps to the corner that would reveal Jinyoung fully. You revealed your head around the corner to see Jinyoung laying there but you couldn’t handle the site. You retracted back to hiding. You were going to converse from here if you had to.
“Does it hurt?” You didn’t even know what to say.
“No.” Jinyoung was trying he best not to sound hurt so you didn’t feel any form of guilt.
“Liar.” But you were too smart.
“A little.”
“Hmm… I’ll save you the talk then. I know how much I’ve apologised to you since we’ve met, and you’ve mentioned how you don’t want me to apologise for others’ actions. B-but Jinyoung I’m so sorry.” You crouched down with your back against the wall. Jinyoung could hear your sobbing.
“I’m so so sorry. I’m s-sorry I didn’t tell you I-I wouldn’t be in today. I should have got in contact.” You had lost it again.
Jinyoung couldn’t handle not being able to hug you in his embrace. He didn’t like how hopeless he was in his hospital bed. He wanted to shh you and tell you to not apologise. He wanted to tell you what was on his mind, but his body wouldn’t allow it.
“Y-Y/N.” Jinyoung heard your sobs hold back when you heard your name.
You looked up as he called your name. It reminded you of when he called your name for the first time. You liked the sound of your name when he said it.
“Hmm.” You hummed in response.
“C-come here.”
You were hesitant but it wasn’t the best thing to not listen to Jinyoung right now. You got back onto your feet and peaked at Jinyoung around the corner again. He was directly looking at where you would show up. You weren’t able to make eye contact with him as you walked to the seat Jaebeom had pulled to Jinyoung’s bed. Your eyes were glued to the floor.
“L-look at me Y/N.” You knew the reason why his sentences were more demanding. He could barely speak so he kept it short. You looked up at the one eye that wasn’t covered. He met your watery eyes. He wouldn’t think to see you crying again after the day you stepped between him and Max. He made a promise to himself to make you smile no matter the situation.
“I-I’ll definitely be drowning now, won’t I?” You couldn’t believe he was making a swimming joke at this moment. You let out a chuckle more because you were shocked at this comment.
“Seriously… you’re making a joke at this point of your life.”
“It’s p-perfect timing. I get to see you smile; it suits you... to smile.” His comment towards your smile made you smile even more.
“It suits you too… to smile.” You took a hold of his hand and rubbed your thumb against his knuckles. You let out another chuckle because of the size difference between your hands.
“What?”
“I understand why people say I have small hands.” You lined up your hand and Jinyoung’s hand together and showed him the big difference. He smiled at your innocence and purity.
“You know what they say about big hands.” You mouth fell agape. Was he making dirty jokes in this current situation as well?
“I thought Jaehyun was bad.” He chuckled but it hurt for it to last long. He winced at the pain.
“You good? Should I call a nurse?” Jinyoung waved you no.
“It’s expected. Waiting for results now.” You nodded wishing that the results would be out at this very moment.
“I’ll ask what happened between you two when you’re better. I don’t want to cause even more damage to what has already been done.”
He gave you that gaze again. Taking responsibility for others’ actions. He hated it.
The door opened and the doctor from earlier walked back in.
“Hello Mr Park. Feeling any better?”
“Barely.” You looked back down again, eyes glued on the floor.
“Results are not out yet. I was going to check if you could consume food or if we’ll need to feed you through a syringe. I’ve bought some soup from the cafeteria. Miss can help you to see if you can eat.” You looked up at the tray in the doctor’s hand and took it from her. You gave her a nod.
“I’ll let you know if he’s able to eat the soup. I’ll press the buzzer to have you notified.”
“Great. I wish you a quick recovery Mr Park.”
The doctor left the room. Jinyoung didn’t have a ‘time to drink soup’ face on but you were going to convince him no matter what.
“Don’t even think of not having this soup. I’ll try my best not to mum you, but you heard the doc.”
“Mum me… I-I don’t mind.” You scooped a spoon full of the soup and blew a little on it (not advised during the periods of COVID-19, take care of yourselves).
“Open up. Try your best.” He swallowed the soup and his arm gripped your arm due to the pain. The instant reflex caught you off guard and you felt sorry for the pain he was feeling.
“Doable?”
You looked up at his one eye ready with another scoop. He nodded wanting to try once more. Yet again he winced in pain with the same reflex.
“Syringe?” He nodded again. You pressed the buzzer on the wall and the doctor was back again soon after.
“I don’t think Mr Park will get through a bowl of soup without a lot of pain. I think the syringe will be better.” The doctor took note on Jinyoung’s record and called in a nurse about the syringe hours.
“Thanks doctor.” You liked the kind and keen approach she had towards her job.
“It’s our job Miss.” The doctor then left the room.
You looked back at Jinyoung only to see him staring right through you. He wanted to ask you why you weren’t in and luckily you owed him an explanation.
“I wasn’t in for the lesson because I had a project meeting with the hotel client I mentioned on Friday. Whenever I’m not in lessons, Max covers for me since he’s the only teacher free during that period. I gave Jooheon a ring and he told me not to worry and just concentrate on the meeting. I was going to tell you prior to the lesson but I had so much to do over the weekend for this meeting that it went over my head. I’m so- “
“Don’t.” You stopped in your tracks. Right don’t apologise for everything.
“How d-did it go?”
“It went really well. He mentioned the…” You trailed off having realised that you had completely forgotten about the news that was published across all platforms.
“The news?” So, he was aware?
“To our luck he actually seemed fond of the news. He even bought flowers as a congratulations gift which was a little odd. I did break it to him what the actual truth was, but he was happy regardless. We swiftly moved onto the project and he was really happy with the outcome. The hotel will be built for 2022 and construction starts really soon.”
He felt like a proud mum. He wished he could go on and on about how proud he was of your achievement, but his current state wouldn’t allow him.
“I-I’m sorry for the n-news.” This was different, he was the one apologising this time.
“I would say that it’s fine, but I have to be honest it’s not. My phone has been going off since the meeting from random numbers and my company entrance was filled with paparazzi right before the meeting. I haven’t got back to my friends or family because god knows where to start.”
“My manager will h-handle it. Y-you shouldn’t have to go through this c-crap.” You guessed that the news will be taken down or some sort of announcement will be made by his side to clear it up.
“That’s good to know. I’m going to give the meeting holders a quick ring, I left abruptly after hearing Jooheon over the phone. Give me a second.”
You got off from the chair and gave Beck a ring whilst gazing out the window. This was so hectic.
“Hey Y/N, is everything okay?” Beck sounded so worried on the other end of the line.
“Hi Beck, you’re going to have to go alone with Mr Chan. I won’t be able to make it. Let him know that I’ll make it up to him but I’m at an emergency situation right now. I’ll talk to you later too. I owe you one.”
“Understood. Don’t drain yourself out with whatever it is. Me and Mr Chan will be fine. We seem to have caught him on a happy day anyways, don’t worry.” You knew you could always count on Beck.
“That’s great. Make sure to forward him my apologies. Have fun.” You hung up the phone and returned back to Jinyoung’s side.
“You should g-go.” Jinyoung spoke up.
“You want me to go to a meal knowing that you’re being fed through a needle looking out the window with only one eye. I don’t think so Jinyoung.” It was unfortunately the bitter truth. He read your face well and you weren’t up for listening to him right now.
For the rest of that day you were with Jinyoung. Every time the nurses would come to change his bandaging you’d have to step out. You couldn’t bear to look at what Max had done to Jinyoung. You’d always ask the nurses as they left if there were any signs of healing, but they’d just say it’s too early to tell. Later on, in the evening the rest of the guys came by and stayed with Jinyoung. You would also leave then, to give them time to have their talks.
Monday Evening
“Y/N, I’m sure Jinyoung wouldn’t like to see you slaving away in the corridors of a hospital. Why don’t you head home and rest up? You can come back in the morning to check up on him.” Mark stepped out of the room and started to get worried at how long you hadn’t eaten and gotten some rest.
“Mark, I’m really not in the mood. I’ll just end up procrastinating at home and get even more worried. Sleep definitely won’t be visiting me tonight if anyhwere but at this hospital.” Mark shook his head, understanding where you were coming from.
“I’m going to stay over the night. You guys can all go. He’s in good hands. Here’s my number. You can contact me if anything’s up and I’ll make sure to pick up.” You handed over your business card which had your contact details on it to Mark.
“We’ll be leaving in 5. Make sure to get some rest too. I don’t want another casualty in our hands.” He smiled trying to make you feel better.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of both of us.”
Like Mark had said, 5 minutes later the boys departed from the hospital informing you to get in contact with them if anything in the slightest happens. You said your goodbyes and they were off. You returned back into Jinyoung’s room to see his eyes shut.
Hes had a rough day. A really rough day. It’s weird how both of your days started of normal only to stoop to a miserable level. It’s expected for him to be tired. Now was the time for him to get some rest in order to recover. You just hoped that no permanent damage was done, or you won’t be able to forgive yourself until the day you die. You were willing to be by his side until he was fully recovered. Stay beside him and even have him in your own home so you can nurse him easily. You could hear his light snoozing as he drifted into a deeper sleep.
The nurse came in to check everything for the evening. She noticed the patient asleep so toned down her voice.
“Miss, would you like us bring in a portable guest bed?”
“If it won’t cause much hassle and noise, then that would be great. Thank you.” The nurse smiled and left the room to bring you your bed.
Your bed arrived with its sheets and a plump pillow on top. The hospital even had some pyjamas laid out on the bed for you to change into. You used the on suite bathroom to change into the pjs. You had taken off your makeup with the cleansing wipes you always carried with you and sat on the bed.
You couldn’t take your eyes off Jinyoung. The poor man went through such a traumatic day with you being the cause of it all. You slowly got off the bed avoiding any creaky noises from the springs and kneeled down, so you were level with Jinyoung’s face. You brushed the strands of hair that were covering his face to aside. He looked effortless even in this state. Not many could achieve. You lighted stroked his cheek feeling his warm skin which had gained more colour compared to what it looked like at first. His calm sleep self gave you so much to look at. His perfect proportions, short but cute eyelashes, noticeably larger but cute ears and his lips. Oh, how much you wanted them to make contact with yours again, just like they did in the sand that day. You were sure he felt the same, there was no denying.
JINYOUNG’S POV
You were sure she thought you were sleep. Her presence was near enough for you to guess the difference between you two. 10cms apart from someone you gave so much care about. 10cms away from someone you were sure you could say, you loved. No matter how early it may be, you knew from the start that she was the one. You were just too hesitant on things moving quickly. This injury being one factor that’ll definitely be slowing down anything from progressing quickly, deterred you from that happening.
You really wanted to open your eyes. To look into the deep world that her eyes held and be her guardian angel. To tell her how much she’s been on your mind since the first encounter. Whilst you were running through the things you wanted to say to Y/N, you felt a gentle peck against your cheek and a whisper.
“What have you done to me silent parrot? Goodnight.”
Silent parrot? You guess that’s something you’ll need to question Y/N on once you’re more able to talk. With that, you sensed Y/N snuggle into her bed and you decided to do the same. Lots of sleep is going to be needed in order to recover from all the injuries.
Tuesday Morning
You were an early bird. Having the nurses change your syringe and bandaging every so often didn’t exactly help with a consistent sleep. Every night visit by the nurses you’d make sure to ask them to be really silent, so Y/N didn’t wake up.
The clock across you struck 7 am but you didn’t care what the time was because you had a little lamb beside you still fast asleep. She looked so cute. You noticed how true she was about her hands too. They looked tiny as they laid on the pillow next to her face. She was snuggled, hugging her duvet like it was a snuggly toy.
The sun started to peak through the blinds and hit Y/N directly in the face. She should wake up soon, you thought.
Y/N’S POV
You woke up to a small heat against your face and a lightened environment. It was now morning. You rubbed your eyes and slowly opened them. You checked over at the side table and grabbed your glasses to clearly see Jinyoung. He was wide awake.
“G-good morning.” There was a little more life in his voice but still groggy.
“Good morning, did you get some sleep? How do you feel?” You sat up with your legs crossed under the duvet.
“In small dosages, yes. I-I feel a b-bit more rested.” You shot him a smile and got up from your bed due to a knock at the door. Considering it wasn’t a doctor since they didn’t just come in you guessed it was a visitor of some sorts.
“I’ll get it.” You told Jinyoung and opened the door. Jinyoung was able to hear who you were talking to.
“Oh. Hi Mona, I’m guessing Beck sent you with all the things I asked for.”
“Yes Miss. I have your workwear in here and a light breakfast too. I’ve parked your car downstairs so you can get to work with no hassle. If that’s all, I’ll be off.”
You ruffled her hair for being so formal even though you knew each other for the past 4 years, “Stop being so formal. I know you’re my assistant and all but you’re also my friend. If there isn’t much work for you today why don’t you hang around and we can go to work together?”
“I’d love to Miss- “
You chuckled, “Stop with the Miss.”
“Fine. Mr Longing had some tasks planned for me to do when I got back and apparently they are urgent, so I’ll have to decline Y/N. Maybe another time.”
“Bummer. Alright, thank you for helping out. We can have a meal another time. I should be at the company before midday.”
“See you Y/N.” You waved Mona goodbye and headed back into the room. Jinyoung almost had a sulking face on and you never knew you needed to see him pouting in your entire life.
“Are you sulking… by any chance?” You stood at the end of Jinyoung’s bed and looked at his facial expression.
“No.” As he declined your outrageous question, he crossed his arms and looked away from you. You were dealing with grown baby.
“Could it possibly be because I need to head to work?”
“Hmph.” He kept his arms crossed. You didn’t know you’d see him in this way in your life.
If he was playing baby, let’s see what he felt when you told him, “I never really liked guys who sulked.” You weren’t being serious, but you just really wanted to get a reaction out of him.
He uncrossed his arms immediately, “I wasn’t sulking. I was just…”.
“Just?” You got him on edge, and it was funny to see you mostly in control of a situation this time round. He’d usually be the one with the upper hand but not this time. Still no answer.
“Cat caught your tongue Park?” You were having way too much fun.
“Damn. You really don’t like guys who sulk?” You couldn’t hold in the truth any longer.
“I don’t mind Jinyoung. I’m just playing with you.” You chuckled at his defeat.
“Phew. Back to what I was doing,” He crossed his arms again and faced away from you, “Don’t go.”
You couldn’t believe your eyes. He just switched back into a baby in milliseconds.
“No wonder why you’re an actor. Acting… shit. What’s going to happen with the drama?” It sunk to you how many things this situation has affected.
“P-postponed.” You felt shit again. He stopped with the sulking at this point and realised your drop in energy.
“Don’t worry about it Y/N. Things will be b-back to normal soon-“
Before Jinyoung could finish his words, his doctor rushed into the room. She seemed like she was out of breath. You looked at Jinyoung and you both eyed the doctor waiting for her to explain her rush.
“Sorry for…the sudden entrance. The… results-“ She was really longing out the news. Was it bad? Was it good? You couldn’t handle her short pauses.
“Can you just say it?”
“Yes… Miss. There’s good and bad news.” You looked at Jinyoung and his face was definitely different to how he was a minute ago. No longer a child but an adult.
“D-doc. Bad n-news first.”
“Mr Park… your vocal cords…” The doctor was also aware of how much Jinyoung’s vocal cords meant.
“Say it, Doc.” Jinyoung couldn���t take it anymore either.
“You won’t be able to sing...”
---
I can already hear all of you hating me for this ending too. I feel so evil. I was planning on continuing but I wanted to be a tease again. You’ll have to be back for the next episode to find out the good news. I wanted to say whilst writing this episode half of the time I was in delulu land. I felt sad having Jinyoung in such a vulnerable situation and thought what it would be like looking after him. I have left that land though, much healthier not thinking delulu.
I hope you guys enjoyed!
writer-nim x
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freshsliceoflemon · 4 years ago
Text
1 | Projects and Objects
James Madison recently gotten a number from one of his classmates, since the two have a project due next week. Turns out, the number is incorrect which leads him into talking to a total stranger, and then into an absolute disaster.
____
This is a college + modern + text/chat AU. It's a slow burn fanfiction, too, but not including Burr and Lee's relationship along with Hercules and Lafayette's. Madison/Jefferson/Hamilton ship. Warning: Cursing. _______________________
***-***-**** (3:55) P.M): Hello, Molly, this is James Madison. You gave me your number in class in regards to the group project we were recently assigned to. Since it is our duty to work together as partners, I hope we can come to an agreement where we have little to no social interaction at all.
??? (4:01 P.M): wot
???: Oh yeh
???: Think you have the wrong number, my dude
???: Yeah*
***-***-****: Pardon?
***-***-***: I have checked the number three times already.
???: Lmao molly gave you a fake number
???: she isn’t interested in u
***-***-****: Why should she be, anyway? I am not interesting in the slightest. We’re just partners for a project that we were assigned. Don’t assume.
***-***-****: Please disregard my rude interruption from whatever you were doing, I shall proceed to erase your number from my contacts and we will carry on like this never happened.
???: What
???: Noo dude wiat
???: James
???: jAmes
???: JAMES ANSWER ME THEERE’s A FIRE
***-***-****: If there is a fire, you should have called the fire department.
???: I just wanted to text u, sheesh >:^
***-***-**** (4:10): What is that.
??? : What is what ???: The emoji thingie??
???: Smh
???: I want to be your friend!! can we be friends????
***-***-****: Why? There is no reason for us to be, I just managed to get the wrong number.
???: I’m thomas!! Thomas Jefferson!!!
???: C’mon, let’s be friends! You seem like a cool guy
???: And a nerd, and nerds are my type ;))
***-***-****: What.
***-***-****: Whatever. I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with you, Jefferson. We don’t know each other at all, and I do not have time for friends. This project is worth half of my semester grade, and I will not be failing because of this foolery.
???: Smhhh
???: Seriously?? no time for friends
???: That’s really sad, my dude
???: well, guess what
***-***-****: What, pray tell?
???: Your my best friend now >:DD
***-***-***: You’re*.
***-***-****: And no, how does one simple interaction make you my “best friend”?
???: You’re my best friend now, shut up
***-***-****: Are you serious?
???: I’ll prove it to you then!!! watch!
***-***-****: What.
______
       Macaroni Fxcker added ***-***-**** to Anatomical Lasers
Macaroni Fxcker (4:11 PM): Guys!!! tell james that I’m his best friend and that he can never deny it!!
A.Hammy: what
A.Hammy: dude who did you add
Macaroni Fxcker: My bestest best friend james
smile the fk more: I thought I was your best friend, Thomas
Macaroni Fxcker: Youre my second best friend don’t worry
A.Hammy: who did you add jefferson
Macaroni Fxcker: James!! say hii!
Baguetteroni: Hi James
***-***-****: Jefferson, why did you add me to this?
Baguetteroni: Wow
Macaroni Fxcker: I wanted to prove to you that im your best friend >:|!!
A.Hammy: smh..
A.Hammy: did you kidnap someone? again?
Macaroni Fxcker : Uh, no
smile the fk more: Thomas, are you lying
Macaroni Fxcker: I’m not!!
Macaroni Fxcker: damn now i have to convince yall that im not lying
***-***-****: What.
***-***-****: You kidnapped someone before?
A.Hammy: ugh we talked about this before jefferson
A.Hammy: so, “james”, what’d you do to get kidnapped by thomas jefferson???
***-***-****: I wasn’t kidnapped.
Macaoni Fxcker: Yeh!!! he said that he didnt have time for friends soo
       Seabunny is now online.
Seabunny: Whaat? But everyone needs friends :^
Leelee: omg stop fucking spamming my notifications guys
smile the fk more: Charles, mute the chat if you dislike the notifications
Leelee: shut up
smile the fk more: Yeah, I’ll shut up alright Leelee: oh no.
       smile the fk more is now offline.
Leelee: oh n o
Seabunny: So James! What’s your zodiac sign?? favourite animal???
Baguetteroni: Oooooo whats ur favourite color??????
***-***-****: what have you done jefferson
Macaroni Fxcker: I added you to my group chat duh
Macaroni Fxcker: I thought you were smart or somethin
       ***-***-**** has left Anatomical Lasers
       Macaroni Fxcker added ***-***-**** to Anatomical Lasers
A.Hammy: bruh
Seabunny: ó .ò
Seabunny : What about favourte herbal tea?????
Leelee: wooow.
       ***-***-**** has left Anatomical Lasers
Macaroni Fxcker: Omg stop
       Macaroni Fxcker added ***-***-**** to Anatomical Lasers
       ***-***-**** has left Anatomical Lasers Macaoni Fxcker: Bitch Seabunny: Oop-
       Macaroni Fxcker added ***-***-**** to Anatomical Lasers Macaroni Fxcker: You should change your nickname Macaroni Fxcker: Numbers are boring, james >:|
***-***-****: Numbers are not boring and never will be. Just let me leave.
       ***-***-**** has left Anatomical Lasers
A.Hammy : Stp A.Hammy : fuck i meant stop* A.Hammy: it’s getting annoying
Leelee: lmao fucker Herc’s a femboy: Woah we have a new person 😳😳😳        Macaroni Fxcker added ***-***-**** to Anatomical Lasers Macaroni Fxcker: Look, james Macaroni Fxcker: I won’t stop until you stay Seabunny: Yeah!! I tried leaving a bunch of times before but I was never able to leave :>!! ***-***-****: Whatever, I give up. I have things to tend to, anyway. Baguetteroni: Like what        ***-***-**** is now offline. A.Hammy: damn jefferson A.Hammy: you made him mad lmaoo Macaroni Fxcker: I didn’t make him mad >:((((( ______        Macaroni Fxcker is now online. Macaroni Fxcker (5:43 PM): Jamesss are you alive?? Macaroni Fxcker (5:49 PM): Hellloooo??        A.Hammy is now online. A.Hammy: smh A.Hammy: cant you just dm him or some shit Macaroni Fxcker: I feel lonely right now so no >:(( A.Hammy: you’re overdramatic Macaroni Fxcker: You’re a cold blooded tiger shark, idiot A.Hammy: you frivolous wanna-be movie trope Macaroni Fxcker: Bruh you’re just a fuckinsnasdasdkasdjjjdjksdj,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, A.Hammy: what. A.Hammy: answer me A.Hammy: what the hell were you about to say A.Hammy: bitch Macaroni Fxcker: Whoopsie doodlie i dropped my computer on my face teehee o3o A.Hammy: how the hell do you do that? A.Hammy: actually don’t respond A.Hammy: it’s obvious that you of all people would do that Macaroni Fxcker: Ouch, hamilton,, you wound me A.Hammy: i sure hope i do.        Herc’s a femboy is now online. Herc’s a femboy: Kinky ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Macaroni Fxcker: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) A.Hammy: shut the up Macaroni Fxcker: Excuse me?!?!!?1? A.Hammy: you’re excused Macaroni Fxcker: Humph >:| Herc’s a femboy: Lol gotta go Herc’s a femboy: I still need to finish sewing the scarf Macaroni Fxcker: Byeee A.Hammy: bye A.Hammy: have fun
       Herc’s a femboy is now offline.
       ***-***-**** is now online.
Macaroni Fxcker: Omg james it’s been so looong how are youu? ***-***-****: It’s been at least an hour since we last spoke, Jefferson. Macaroni Fxcker: Ugh only seeing numbers as your name is boooring ***-***-****: Numbers are not boring. A.Hammy: they’re not as boring as your mom tho Macaroni Fxcker: aLex we don’t know anything about james mom don’t say that DD:< A.Hammy: chill A.Hammy: whyre you so mad lmfaoo Macaroni Fxcker: >.> Macaroni Fxcker: James james james james change your nammmeee already ***-***-****: Why, exactly? Macaroni Fxcker: Changing your nickname thingie makes it less likely for you to leave!! Macaroni Fxcker: And i wanna know what creative things you can come up with!        A.Hammy has changed ***-***-****’s nickname to loser Macaroni Fxcker: Wtf hamilton A.Hammy: hahh loser loser: Sigh. loser: If you insist on me changing my nickname, then;        loser changed their name to Pluto A.Hammy: wow so amazing A.Hammy: i bet flat earthers love you
Pluto: What a shame, seeing as how you haven’t confessed to me yet. A.Hammy: what the shit no A.Hammy: smh i don’t support flat earthers Macaroni Fxcker: Woah. Pluto: “Woah”? Macaroni Fxcker: How small are you?? A.Hammy: i swear if you’re taller than me i’m going to kick you into next wednesday Macaroni Fxcker: I meant height btw Pluto: I’m 5’4. Why is this information necessary? Macaroni Fxcker: omg A.Hammy: i Macaroni Fxcker: omg omg omg you finally found someone shorter than you hammy A.Hammy: don’t fucking call me hammy Macaroni Fxcker: Hey, pluto Pluto: Yes? Macaroni Fxcker: Welcome. you have officially joined this group chat! we should celebrate Pluto: Thank you, I suppose. A.Hammy: yeah, welcome A.Hammy: i sure hope you enjoy your stay A.Hammy: because you aren’t getting out of here alive Pluto: I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.
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poorguysheadcanon · 6 years ago
Text
Whizzer’s Got A Type
ohhhhhhhh my god you guys so basically when i started this side blog i did not think i was going to be writing any full-length fics. this all changed when i started rewatching the show Smash and came up with might be my favorite headcanons i’ve ever had??? but anyway, after like 10 days of writing, editing,  and countless conversations about these characters, i have about 3200 words of a fic i genuinely enjoy, and i hope yall do too!! also, huge huge thank you to @browniemixinawaffleiron, @sandfordsmostwanted, and @cookies-for-all for helping me with this!!!
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After Marvin had gotten back from work today, he and Whizzer had fought for hours. Whizzer was late to making dinner and Marvin had been livid. The younger man had enough of his boyfriend’s screams and decided he was done playing housewife for the day. He grabbed his jacket and walked around for a while before eventually finding the closest bar, knowing he needed a drink or two. As Whizzer approached the bar, he saw the back of a man’s head that he knew he could recognize anywhere. His face flushed with anger and he began yelling insults at his boyfriend while hitting his shoulder. How dare he come here? Whizzer was the one who needed this bar, not Marvin who had booze at his place. As he began to say something particularly cruel, a man with a soft confused expression turned around. This man, who looked exactly like Marvin, glanced up at Whizzer and said “Well, I’m certainly happy I’m not actually the guy you’re so pissed at. Care to explain?” and Whizzer sat down next to his boyfriends' doppelganger, got them both a drink and explained his situation. He spared no detail and ended the story with him walking out mere hours ago. The man, who had introduced himself as Tom Levitt, was interested in every word Whizzer had to say. Whizzer was certainly not used to the look on Tom’s face, one of sincerity. He hadn’t seen that since he started sleeping with Marvin. When Whizzer finished up his tale, Tom shook his head before raising his hand to get the bartender’s attention. “You are definitely in need of another drink,” he said before ordering another round for the two of them. They talked for a few more hours at the barstools until their conversation moved to a taxi, and then Toms’ apartment, and the conversation seemed to cease once they reached Tom’s bed.
The next morning, Tom rolled over to find a handsome man in his bed and he smirked to himself. He carefully got up, not wanting to wake the man sleeping peacefully, and got up to make them both some tea. As he was taking the kettle off the stove, he felt strong arms wrap around his waist from behind him. He smiled a bit when a kiss was pressed to his cheek before he felt Whizzer’s head rest on his shoulder for a second before he walked over and sat on Tom’s couch. They drank their tea in comfortable silence before Whizzer finally spoke up. “Well, I should probably get back to the war zone… try and smooth things over.”
Tom felt his heart pang but he pushed it down, offering a smile and a kiss on the cheek instead. “I wish you all my luck, but do call me again if he ever acts as dumb as he did last night.”
And call him again he did. Sooner than Tom expected, if he was honest. They had little fights here and there for about a week but things got back to normal. Well, normal for them. But after a little while, they had another big fight and Toms’ phone buzzed during a late night writing session with Julia. Tom sheepishly explained his plight to his best friend who promptly rolled her eyes while telling him this affair was an awful idea. “Tom, sweetheart, sleeping with this guy just because you look like his boyfriend is a terrible idea. This is just gonna end up hurting you in the end.” Tom just shook his head and began grabbing his coat before saying, “Well Jules, not all of us have men falling at our feet. This is what I have. Plus, he’s great in bed and shares my taste in tea. So I like it, no matter how it ends.”
After about a month of this went on, Whizzer going behind Marvin’s back far more frequently than he originally intended to. Eventually, this all had to come to a stop. One morning, Whizzer had forgotten to cover up the hickeys on his neck and Marvin took notice. Marvin questioned him and Whizzer revealed what had been happening, making jokes about Marv’s cute little doppelganger and calling him Marvin’s “better half.” Marvin hid his heartbreak behind more arguments and after two full days of screaming matches, their 9 month (10 month) relationship ended after a game of chess. Whizzer called Tom, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice as he walked out of Marvin’s place with his bag. Tom was actually in the middle of a workshop for he and Julia’s musical but as soon as he heard the other man’s tone, he called out for the rest of the day and met him at his own apartment. He made Whizzer tea and sat on the couch with him, rubbing his arms every once in a while. Whizzer got tired and laid his head on Tom’s lap, prompting him to play with his hair. Whizzer fell asleep and Tom smiled contently. He took this as a good sign. The sleeping man was now single and still chose to spend his time with Tom, that had to mean something. Tom had thought before that he was getting too attached to Whizzer, but when he looked down and saw him all curled up, Tom decided he got attached just the right amount.
A few months went by and the two men grew closer, all while not getting too serious. Whizzer spent almost all of his at Tom’s apartment, content to spend his time listening to Tom and sometimes Julia work on the Marilyn Monroe musical that he was about 90% sure they were calling Bombshell. Tom even got Whizzer to sing a few times, which Whizzer was sure wasn’t beneficial to anyone unless Tom was curious if his songs could still sound decent if someone tone deaf sang them. When Tom wasn’t working, he and Whizzer would go out to various bars together. It was a happy blur for six months.  Life was much calmer for Whizzer like this; no bickering, no insults, just kisses and affection. And although it was nice, something still felt off. Whizzer liked Tom, he really did. Not only was he sweet and funny, he just so happened to look exactly like the man he had loved. It was the perfect scenario, Marvin’s looks but a kind personality. He should have been head over heels for Tom, but he wasn’t. Tom wasn't Marvin and Whizzer needed to find a way out before he hurt Tom, more than he probably already was going to.
Tom had been in rehearsals all day, Bombshell was two weeks away from going to Boston and everyone was on high alert. At least when night fell, Tom went home to find Whizzer at his apartment most days. Nothing made him happier, his work life was starting to come together (even though it was beyond stressful) and his home life felt happier than it ever had before. He came home to something that shook his world that day though, Whizzer packing a bag. He coughed a bit to let his presence be known and Whizzer looked at him with a pained expression. “I hoped I had finished packing before you got back, but we need to talk.”
Tom bit his lip but nodded, sitting down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Whizzer sat down next to him and put a hand on Toms' leg. Whizzer attempted to explain how he was feeling carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tom but he knew that was unavoidable. He did the best he could to soften the blow. Tom was holding up okay, all things considered. Hiding his emotions when he needed to was one of his best talents. That all went out the window when he tried to mumble out, “Are you… are you going back to him?” And all of a sudden, Tom was a puddle of tears and Whizzer didn’t know what to do. He wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back.
“No.. Not yet at least. He’s just on my mind still, I don’t think he’s leaving it any time soon. And it’s not fair to you that I keep this going, as much as I want to. Because I really like you, Tom, you’re such a great guy. It’s just not fair to you. I’m so sorry, Tom,” he whispered and continued to rub his back. Tom quickly forced himself to calm down and he wiped his eyes, looking at Whizzer before kissing his cheek.
“You’re a great guy too Whizz, if you do go back to him, make sure he deserves you. You deserve to be treated so much better than what you got before, if you do ever go back to him make sure you’re treated with respect.” He said and got up slowly, wiping his eyes again. Whizzer got up as well and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself Tom,” he said before quickly grabbing the rest of his stuff and walking out, leaving Tom alone, completely heartbroken.
Tom sat for a while on the couch, drinking scotch and trying not to cry again. He eventually called Julia, not trusting his voice but knowing she would understand him. She picked up and immediately heard his shaky breath. “Tom, what happened?”
He sniffled a bit and mumbled out a quiet “He left… he... He said he still loved his ex and that it wasn’t fair to me or something…?” and Julia grabbed her coat and began to walk over to his apartment. Tom sighed and said “You were right, I guess. Don’t tell me you told me so though.” Julia chuckled sadly “Of course I’m not gonna tell you I told you so, at least not for a few days.” They stayed up a few hours drinking and talking about the men in their lives, eventually passing out on Toms’ couch.
Almost a year and a half after that night, things were looking up for both Tom and Whizzer. Whizzer and Marvin were back together, much happier than they ever had been before. Marvin had grown a lot over the course of their breakup and treated Whizzer with respect, something the younger man didn’t think Marvin was capable of the last time around. Bombshell had finally made it to Broadway and things were going really well for Tom, he was even nominated for a Tony for Best Director. With the two of them so busy, they rarely thought of each other. This changed the night of the Tony Awards while Whizzer was sick in bed.
After a day of being pampered by Marvin, Whizzer was curled up in his boyfriend’s arms in bed. Whizzer was very whiny when he was sick, even though all he had was a common cold. Marvin made sure each of Whizzers’ requests were met, even the ridiculous ones like having his bath at exactly 107 degrees. The day was finally winding down and the two had the Tonys on as background noise. Everything was quiet in a comfortable way until a certain someone's name was called out on the TV for Best Original Score. Although Whizzer had complained of a sore throat all day, he screamed. That was Tom, his Tom, on his TV screen accepting an award. After his general excitement died down, he explained to Marvin who that was. Marvins face paled a bit when he realized this was his so-called “better half” doppelganger that Whizzer had been with all those months ago. Whizzer was too caught up in his excitement to notice, already grabbing his laptop to look for tickets. “Marv, we have to see it. We have to go see Tom’s show, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.” The older man just sighed, knowing there was no way around this, and took out his credit card.
The soonest the two men could get tickets was two weeks away and Whizzer was both counting down the days and incredibly anxious all at once. On the one hand, he was so excited to see this show. He remembered the days he spent watching Tom and Julia write songs, the times he would stop into the workshop to see Tom at work, and of course all the times Tom would sing various Bombshell songs to him. On the other hand, seeing this show meant seeing Tom again. After leaving Tom’s apartment that night, Whizzer hadn’t seen the man. As much as he wanted to see Tom, he was scared that Tom didn’t want to see him.
The day finally came and Marvin and Whizzer arrived to the theatre, dressed to the nines. They had relatively close seats and Whizzer was so excited. The second the curtain opened, he was in a trance. The show was fantastic and he felt an overwhelming sense of pride for Tom. By the act one closer, Whizzer had already cried twice. The first time was during “Never Give All The Heart” because he could just hear Tom’s struggles with love in there. Even though Marilyn (or more accurately Ivy) was singing, he knew that this song was personal to his ex. He cried once more at the act one finale, holding Marvin’s hand so tight the older man thought he was losing circulation. During intermission, the two stood in the lobby discussing the plot and how much Whizzer adored it. Marvin did as well, but with his underlying anxieties about Tom, he didn’t want to admit how fantastic it really was.
In the middle of their conversation, a staff member came walking up to the pair. “Mr. Brown? Tom Levitt has asked that you and your guest come to the stage door after the show so he can give you a tour.” Whizzer smiled excitedly and nodded his head, thanking them as they walked off. It was really happening, after all this time he really was going to see Tom again. Just as he was about to talk with Marvin about it, the lights flashed as a signal that intermission was about to end. They quickly found their seats again and the curtain rose again for the second act. This act also made Whizzer emotional but nothing could have prepared him for the death grip on his hand during “Hang the Moon.” He glanced over at Marvin to see what was wrong and he saw him desperately trying to hold back tears. Whizzer rubbed his arm gently and leaned over to whisper to him, “Love it’s okay to cry, no one’s gonna see you.” And that was all Marvin needed to let his tears flow. When the lights came on after curtain call, Marvin was still desperately wiping at his cheeks to get rid of the evidence of his emotions. Whizzer gently wiped them away while softly telling him that it was normal for him to be crying. “Whizz it’s stupid, I shouldn’t be crying over a- I’m a grown man.”
“Marvin. It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry whenever you’d like. There’s nothing not normal about crying. You’ve seen me cry a bunch of times, is that not normal?”
“No, but that’s differ-“
“No it’s not babe, we’re both grown men. We both have emotions. It’s perfectly alright to let them show.”
Marvin stayed quiet for a second and wrapped his arms around Whizzer, thankful he had someone like him in his life. “Thank you, Whizz. I needed that.” The younger man gave his boyfriend a soft but sweet kiss before taking his hand and beginning to make their way to the stage door.
Once they reached the door, Whizzer pressed the buzzer and waited for the stage manager to open the door for them. He smiled and thanked the woman who led them back to Tom. It was now Whizzer’s turn to have a death grip on his boyfriend's hand. He released it the second Tom saw the two of them and was walking over with open arms. Whizzer quickly hugged him with a smile, Marvin standing back slightly to let the two have their moment. They exchanged pleasantries before Whizzer began to praise Bombshell. “Tom it's magical, really. I haven’t enjoyed a show this much in a long time. I just can’t believe those songs you’d sing to me have turned into this.”
Tom smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “Well it wasn’t just me, it was Julia, and Derek, and Eileen, and-”
“Tom stop, give yourself some credit. You’re so unbelievably talented, I’m so happy I get to see you shine like this.”
Tom blushed a bit and touched his shoulder. “Thank you, really Whizz. I’m so happy you got to see this show outside of me drunkenly singing to you.” When Marvin saw the blush creep onto Tom’s face, he walked up and put his arm around his boyfriend’s waist. Tom looked over at him and his eyes got wide for a second before going back to his signature smile. “Ah, you must be the famous Marvin. So happy to meet you.” They shook hands, Marvin making sure he had a firm handshake. Tom tensed a bit when he felt his hand crushed by Marvin’s but he just continued to smile.
Marvin would eventually walk off to let them talk once he was sure Tom wasn’t a threat. He walked over to Leigh Conroy, looking particularly starstruck. Whizzer looked over at him and saw his boyfriends eyes light up. He laughed slightly and looked back at Tom with a smile. “So… you and Marvin seem to have worked out, I’m really happy for you. He’s treating you better, right?”
“Yeah, so much better. It’s like night and day honestly, he’s wonderful,” he said as he glanced over at Marvin again, sighing happily. “So, enough about my relationship. Have you found anyone?” Whizzer asked him, hoping he found someone that gave him the love he gave others.
“I did, he sits on my desk all day and spins, his name is Tony.”
“...Tom”
“No, I did.. One of them left and one… well, one died.” He said and looked down and Whizzer put his hand on his arm.
“Tom I’m so sorry.”
Tom nodded and smiled sadly. “Me too.” The two talked for a while, happy to catch up with each other. Their conversation eventually died down when Ivy walked up to Tom and cuddled up to his arm, knowing exactly who Whizzer was and how badly he had hurt Tom.
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” She said with a smile while giving him a slight side eye. Ignoring the side eye, Whizzer smiled.
“Oh my god, you’re Ivy Lynn. You were absolutely amazing in the show. I’m Whizzer, an old friend of Tom’s.” She smiled politely and thanked him before reminding Tom of plans they had for that night. Whizzer smiled softly. “We should probably get going anyway. It was great seeing you again Tom, really. Don’t be a stranger,” he said before giving him a quick hug and walking off to find Marvin.
“So that’s Whizzer, huh? Seems cute enough, but you really still think he was worth the heartache?” Ivy asked and looked up at Tom.
“Yeah... Yeah, I think he was.”
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