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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

berry hill.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: i am so excited to share this one with you. the tropes are PACKED in here, and it was a blast to write. i also realized some time ago that i keep forgetting summaries on my works, so i’m gonna do my best to add those from now on. as always, let me know if there are any mistakes in here! thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster for helping me today <3 intended for the ‘a joyful future universe,’ but does not require context. takes place in 2011, early season six, prior to the valhalla arc. words: 12k warnings: language, some vague mention of aaron’s anatomy, alcohol use, when i say slow burn i mean s l o w burn.

summary: "...and there was only one bed." - old fanfiction proverb

waldosia (part 2) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed! updated: january 5th, 2021

It’s way too late and you know it, but Jack is still on his annual winter vacation with Aunt Jess and the rest of the Brooks clan, so there’s simply no incentive to leave. You’re with Hotch at his desk, kicked back like you own the place, while he sits back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

The Montana case wrapped up neatly, and any remaining or incoming paperwork this week is light. Though it is admittedly weird without JJ, Seaver seems to be settling in alright. You’re glad that the team decided to take a chance on her like they did with you.

“What do you mean he drew on the wall?” You say through a laugh, popping a grape in your mouth. “Are we talking like a crayon mark here and there or a full-on mural.”

“Multi-media mural - glue, paper mache, markers, crayons, you name it and it was there.” He laughs and he takes a grape from your bowl, kicking his feet up on the desk - mirroring you. “I have no idea how he managed it. I was in the house the whole time.”

“Oh my God, he’s a terror!” Before Aaron can agree, your phone starts ringing. You pick it up, smiling as you see the caller ID.

“Hey Dean!” You stand and give Aaron a ‘sorry, just a second’ finger and step out of the office, leaving the door open behind you. You stay where Aaron can see you, leaning on the rail next to the stairs. You don’t really mean to stay within his eyeline, but it’s habit at this point.

“Hey babe, I hope I’m not calling too late.”

“Oh not at all. I’m still in the office with Hotch getting some work done.”

You catch Hotch’s eye and he mouths ‘Work?’ and you shrug as if to say ‘It’s a loose term.’ He rolls his eyes and steals another one of your grapes.

“Ah, I see. Late-night work with the hot boss-man.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. “So what’s up?”

He sighs, and you already know what’s coming before he says it. “Something came up at work and I won’t be able to make it to the wedding next week. We’re closing on this huge property in Georgetown and it’s really big for the firm and -“

“It’s okay. I get work stuff, trust me.” And you do. It just fucking sucks.

“I’m so so sorry to leave you hanging. I know it’s going to be super rough. Maybe one of your work friends can go with you? Maybe boss man? His name’s Aaron, right? Hopscotch or something?” His humor doesn’t make you feel any better, but you promise to keep ‘Hopscotch’ for later.

You tip your head up to stare at the ceiling and will the tears away from your eyes, blinking them back. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. None of them knew to ask off work, so if we have a case I’ll be on my own regardless.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Two tears fall out of the corner of your eyes, and you turn around, wiping them away. “It’s okay.”

“I’ll call you day-of to check in, okay?”

Hotch watches you carefully, doing your best to hide your tears from him. Bad news, certainly, but he wishes you wouldn’t hide from him like you do. Or rather, he wishes you wouldn’t try to hide from him like you do.

He can’t hear the entire conversation, obviously, but he resolves to do what he can to return at least a little of the care you always show him without hesitation,

“Okay.” You heave an uneven sigh. “I’ll talk to you then... Really - don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” You hang up before he can respond and rest your forearms on the railing. You let your head hang for a second, collecting yourself before you have to face Hotch again.

You take a deep breath and turn, sitting across from him again. Attempting to restore your good spirits, you kick your feet back up and have another grape.

Hotch’s voice is quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” but your voice breaks. You clear your throat and blink a few more times.

You can feel him squint at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you know.” You sniff, and gesture vaguely as you continue. “My best friend from college was supposed to be my date to a friend’s wedding next week, and the friend getting married also happens to be someone I dated in college so I was really hoping Dean could come with me, and now…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

He’s quiet for a little while, and you shove some more grapes in your mouth to make up for the silence. You know each other so well, but it still feels a little weird to explicitly talk about your personal life in the office. Sure, you spend a fair few weekends together with Jack, but the whole thing is a little embarrassing - and you’re not sure if the worst part is admitting you have an ex-boyfriend from college or you now have to go stag to his wedding.

“Do you want someone to go with you?” He watches you chew on your lower lip. A long time ago, he decided there was nothing worse than seeing you upset.

This is the least you can do, Hotchner. First personal weekend in nearly four years, you can at least do what you can to make it suck less. He reasons with himself, but he can’t help the sly thought that sneaks in on the tail end. Being a backup is better than being nothing at all.

That’s enough.

You scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

He smiles a little, knowing you completely missed his point. “If you wanted…” He clears his throat and looks out the window, and you reply before he can continue.

“Oh, God, Hotch.” You cover your face with your hands. “Please don’t feel like I’m trying to guilt you into anything. I’ll be fine.” You try to laugh it off, but can’t hide the anxiety in your voice.

His laugh warms you. “You’re not guilting me into anything. I’m offering.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. There’s an earnest sort of kindness in his eyes, and you find yourself a little short of breath. “Really?”

“Really. I can get the weekend off - things are pretty slow around here. Where is it?” You had trouble reading his tone. Really, he’s just treading carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured, or give away his own selfish motivations.

“It’s, ah,” you stutter for a second, getting your metaphorical feet back under you. “It’s down at Berry Hill Resort, right by the North Carolina border.” Your lip disappears between your teeth again. “It’s about a three and a half hour drive.”

He opens his phone, and you know he’s checking the map. “It’d be easy enough if we left early and switched in Richmond. I’ll start, if you’d like.”

You smile at him, wide and genuine. “Hotch, you’re the best.”

+++

Hotch calls you up to his office, and you swing in, your hand gripping the doorframe. You bite back your greeting as you find him on the phone.

He beckons you in and you step inside, closing the door behind you.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that along to the rest of the unit...You too, sir.” He hangs up and laces his fingers, addressing you. “Question.”

You sit, resting your elbows on his desk. “Answer.”

“Funny.”

You smirk, and he continues. “I’m not sure if it matters to you, but I have an absurd number of ties. Color preference?”

A huff of laughter leaves you in disbelief. “You called me in here to ask whether or not I want to have a color scheme?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A united front, or at least a coordinated one, seems like the best strategy, right?”

+++

Aaron walks down from his office, his phone to his ear. You’re helping Ashley with a consult, walking her through your process just like Emily used to do with you.

“Hotch usually likes to approach the profile starting with a demographic consideration, but I usually start from physical evidence and -”

A hand falls onto your shoulder, and you look up. “Yeah?”

He pulls the receiver away from his mouth. “Jack wants to talk to you.”

With a shake of your head and a fond smile for Hotch and an apologetic one for Ashley, you put the phone to your ear. “Hey, bud! How’s Grandpa’s house?”

“So fun,” Jack says, almost yelling into the phone. “Aunt Jess has let me play in the snow every day.”

You laugh. “I am so glad.”

“Dad says you’re busy at work, but I miss you.”

“Aw, bubba, I miss you, too. You’ll be home really soon, and when you get back we’ll go out to ice cream and you can tell me all about your visit.” You, for just a moment, forget where you are, and you lean back in your seat as if you’re leaning into Jack himself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you.”

Your breath catches, and you keep our eyes firmly planted on your consult as you reply. “I love you too, bub. Here’s your dad.” Placing the phone in Hotch’s hand, you return your attention to Ashley and do your best not to acknowledge Aaron as he walks back up the stairs. “So, like I said, Hotch prefers to -”

“Hey.” Ashley stops you with a hand on your arm. “You’re really good at your job.”

A confused smile pulls at your lips. There’s a question in your eyes, and she answers it.

“Oh, I just...You’re a good teacher and a good friend, that’s all.”

“Thanks, Seaver.”

+++

On a rare weeknight off, Emily and you gather at Penelope’s apartment. You’re all sitting on the floor, bottles of wine making an occasional rotation, and a pile of snacks on the floor taking up the space in the loose circle you’ve created.

“You’re taking time off this weekend?” Penelope sounds almost insultingly surprised, as if the concept never occurred to her.

You nod. “Yep. First time in four years, so I think I’m about due.”

Emily laughs and asks. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve been inexplicably invited to an ex-boyfriends wedding - he’s a friend from college and we were friends before we dated etc. etc.” You wave your hand as you speak, outlining the tedium of it all. “His mom loves me, and I suspect she was the one who added me to the list.”

“Are you going with anyone? Penelope’s concern is touching.

“Yeah. One of my college friends was supposed to be my date, but he bailed for a work thing.” All the girls roll their eyes and nod. They get it. “So, Ho - someone else - is going with me.”

“Who?” Emily narrows her eyes and searches you.

“Oh come on, profiling is against the rules.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

“Spill it.” Penelope throws a goldfish cracker at you to emphasize her point.

You take a deep, long-suffering breath, suddenly missing JJ and her powers of redirection. “Fine. Hotch is coming with me -” you intercept their eager questions “- only as a favor.”

“That’s very...thoughtful of him.” Emily’s chin tips up suggestively, and you throw Penelope’s goldfish at her. “Who’s idea was that?”

There’s a moment here somewhere, where you realize you’ve just dug yourself a hole you’ll be hard-pressed to get out of. “He overheard Dean bail, and offered. I’m sure he’s just doing it because he feels bad and -”

“Oh, don’t be stupid!” Penelope nearly falls into Emily, giggling. “I can’t believe you two.”

You throw your hands in the air. “What?”

Both women share a look before looking back at you with identical disbelief. Emily speaks first. “You can’t be serious.”

Take a deep breath. You’re not that obvious.

Maybe you are. You’ve only been half-or-completely in love with him for five years.

Shut up.

“Serious about what?”

Emily rolls her eyes and finishes her second glass of wine, reaching to refill it immediately. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

+++

You’re finishing your last bit of packing, leaving your toothbrush and toothpaste out for the morning, when your phone rings.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron.”

“Ah, my saving grace,” you say with a laugh. “Calling to cancel on me, after all?”

His laugh just isn’t as good over the phone, but it’ll do. “Not even close. Is 6am still good to come get you?”

“It’s so early.” There’s absolutely no shame in your whine, and you’re rewarded with another laugh. “But yes, that’s fine. That gives us enough time even if we hit some traffic out of the District and into Richmond.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You look at your suitcase, resting open on your bed. “You’re still okay with this, right? I know I couldn’t grab that extra hotel room for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured or -”

He cuts you off, calling you out by name. “Enough. I offered, remember? I’ll see you at 6. Bring a pillow so you can sleep in the car.”

Your lips pinch, holding back a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.” And he knows you don’t just mean it for the pillow reminder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course. Sleep well.”

You don’t, but are nevertheless ready with bells on, pillow tucked under your arm, and coffee in-hand at 5:55am the following morning. He looks surprised when he pulls into the driveway and sees you standing on your porch, looking only a little worse for wear. At least your teeth are brushed.

“Thought you might want this.” You hold out the travel mug to him as he approaches, and he takes it (and your suitcase) from you.

“Thank you. Jump in.”

You follow instructions and immediately stuff your pillow between your head and the window as he throws your suitcase in the trunk. You’re forever grateful Aaron drives the same SUVs you all have at the bureau. He claims it’s easier to not think about different car specs, but at this moment you only care about the temperature control and familiar, soft leather seats. Your eyes shut on their own accord, still heavy even after your abbreviated morning routine.

He slips into the driver’s seat and, with your eyes closed, you miss the way he looks over at you with a barely-there, fond smile. Your sweatshirt is too big for you and your face is adorably smushed into the pillow.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he places his hand on the back of your seat, backs out of the driveway, and gets on the road.

The silence gives him plenty of time to think about things he’d rather not address. This favor, for one, is something he’s still trying to reconcile.

Would I have offered to Emily? JJ? Hell, Dave?

If any other member of the team had a friend bail out of their role as a wedding date, he’d like to think he’d drop everything and take the weekend to make them feel better, but he knows that probably wouldn’t be the case in reality. He knew you were different, and it frustrated and confused him.

As often as he acknowledges his love for you - he wishes it would just stop.

Only a year and change had passed since Haley’s death, and there were still some mornings where he woke up and couldn’t breathe. Jack still had some nightmares too. Those broke his heart more than anything in the world, but he knew you would always pick up if he called - no matter the hour.

It happened more often than he’d like to admit.

“Hotch? Aaron? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

You’d always talk to him about something or nothing at all, sometimes turning on your bedside lamp and reading from whatever book you were perusing before bed.

He knows you understand. You were the only one there with him, when he found her body. You were there to take his son out of his bloodied hands. You were there when he was afraid of himself.

The nightmares still come for you, too, sometimes. There are nights where Haley’s dark blue eyes stare into you, whether your eyes are open or closed. You told him that, once, and he was grateful - grateful that he wasn’t the only one.

You murmur something in your sleep, about twenty minutes outside of the city. You’re still an hour or more away from Richmond, and Hotch figures he’ll let you sleep if you don’t wake up between now and then. It’s not a hard drive to Berry Hill, and you need the rest.

Might be good to pick up some food on the way...

He turns the music off, letting the sounds of your breathing and the road wash over him.

“Aaron.”

He turns, expecting your watchful eyes, but finds you burrowing further into the pillow, a little smile on your face as you remain blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Something warm starts to radiate in his chest as he looks back out at the road, the Virginia countryside stretching out in front of him, around him, and in every direction he can see. The warmth vibrates into his fingertips. He flexes his hands around the wheel, trying to shake it.

He fails.

You’re not sure how you manage to sleep so soundly in the car. You had tossed and turned all night, thinking only of facing a part of your life you hoped you’d never address head-on ever again. Why you accepted the invitation at all (or why you even received one) was beyond you.

It must be his mother’s doing. She always loved you, and she did her best to keep your friendship alive much longer than its natural death.

Exercising control over her child’s life due to an exceptional lack of control and consistency during her upbringing. Relating to her son’s partners to achieve some semblance of intimacy without facing the root of her insecurity that she’s failed as a parent.

The profiling never stopped, it seemed.

It wasn’t just the wedding keeping you up last night. The thought of spending the weekend with Aaron in an environment where you will inevitably feel (if not look and act) distraught close to the whole time still wears on you. Spending weekends at home, where you sit together with a glass of wine and leftover popcorn after Jack gets tucked in feels different.

That’s comfortable. That’s safe. This? This is scary. Vulnerable. Burdensome.

Even then, there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side while you face friends you haven’t seen in ages. He’s charismatic, almost entirely unapproachable (when he wants to be), and tall. All those factors should be enough to keep anyone from trifling with you for the duration of the weekend.

But now, in the car, all those thoughts are far from your mind. Your mind is blissfully dark and blank, your body soothed by the low hum of the car and the smell that follows Hotch wherever he goes - spicy, earthy, and something that reminds you of the air right before lightning strikes.

The car slows, and the subtle change in ambiance wakes you. You lift your head, finding Hotch turning on an offramp.

“Are we in Richmond already?” You ask, bleary.

He smiles. His sunglasses are resting on his nose to combat the rapidly-rising morning sun. “Not yet, but I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

You tip your head. He’s right. “I could eat.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You should eat.”

+++

After food and a top-off for the gas tank, you offer to drive.

Aaron refuses. “If you drive, I don’t get to pick the music.”

“I thought shotgun picks the music.” You frown at him, admittedly still a little tired. You’ve shoved your pillow behind your seat and start to sit like an actual human being for the first time that morning.

“Those are Morgan’s house rules, not mine.”

“Ah,” you say, sagely. “I see. What are your house rules?”

There’s a smile behind his sunglasses. “Driver picks the music and critically considers any suggestions made by shotgun.”

Thus, the Beatles’ White Album starts from the top. You can’t say you’re surprised - it is his favorite. You’ve grown rather fond of it yourself, if you’re honest, Though, you’re not sure if you fondness for the album has anything to do with the man beside you - the one who’s hair is soft and floppy in the morning light, the one wearing an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt, the one singing along under his breath.

“Why is this one your favorite?” You hear yourself ask.

He’s quiet for a minute, as if you are the first to ask that question. Maybe you are. “I’m...not sure. I think it might have something to do with my mom. She bought the record a couple of weeks after I was born in late ‘68, and made sure I had a copy when I got my own record player in my first college apartment.” He shrugs. “It’s been around just as long as I have, and there’s something a little - I don’t know - comforting about that?”

You nod. “I get that.” You’re quiet for a moment, considering all the things that happened in 1982. “Grease 2 came out the year I was born, so I can’t say I share a similar affinity for the pop culture phenomena of my birth year.”

Hotch lets out a low whistle and a grimace. “That film really was awful.” He waits for your laugh and is rewarded before continuing. “I saw The Who on their final tour that year.”

You furrow your brow. “Weren’t you like, barely in high school?”

He nods. “We snuck out, a couple of friends and me. It was really stupid and we got in a lot of trouble, but it was fun.” There’s a nostalgic smile on his face. “I have no idea how we managed to get all the way into the District, let alone find tickets, but everything was a little less complicated back then. Buses ran on time, people read maps, and parents didn’t all have cell phones.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk. “But of course, that’s before your time.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m not that young. I remember the world before the mainstream internet and 9/11 and all that pre-Patriot Act shit. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, at least.”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough.”

You lapse into silence for a little while, handing him fries from the drive-thru bag when he puts his open palm over the center console. You notice his left hand shift slightly in time with the music, and you watch a little more carefully.

And I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know why Nobody told you How to unfold your love I don’t know how Someone controlled you They bought and sold you…

“Hotch, do you play guitar?” There’s a touch of disbelief in your tone, but you try to hide it for the sake of his pride. It’s not that you think he doesn’t have a musical or creative bone in his body, but you’re rather surprised by the relaxed subtlety of his movement. It was your impression he never did anything without thinking about it, and to see the slight, almost unconscious action sparks a pleasant little flicker of warmth in your chest.

He shrugs. “I played a little when I was younger. I guess you could say I know how to play, but I don’t claim to be decent at it in the slightest.” His head tips, and you could swear you see an eye roll. “Sean’s always been better at those kinds of pursuits.”

As usual, he doesn’t seem thrown or surprised by your question and doesn’t hesitate to answer them. After almost five years, he’s used to your keen observations. He’d never admit it, but he expects them - maybe he’s not able to guess at the content of the questions themselves, but he always knows there will be one eventually.

“Have you and Sean always butted heads?”

Aaron snorts, and gives you a simple, “Yes.”

You’d never met the younger Hotchner, but you’d seen photos and heard tell. From what you understand, he’s a little wilder than his older brother, a little more idealistic and far less practical. Sean seems like someone you would like, but you doubt he would rise to the top of your Favorite Hotchners List - a list with only two names so far, tied for first.

It’s safe to say Jack and Aaron are hard acts to follow.

+++

You talk about everything and nothing, when finally, he asks. “So, who is this guy?”

“Ugh.” You tip your head against the seat. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. Isn’t it protocol to brief the team before arrival?”

You snort, immediately regretting your decision to make fun of Strauss over drinks last week. “Yes, sir.”

He laughs, and you tell him.

You tell him about Austin and how you met in a random general education class and became fast friends and started dating, talked about marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. You told him about your semester abroad, your traveling, and returning home to find he’d been dating someone else while you were away, without your knowledge.

“It’s kind of cliche, I know, but it broke my heart in half.” You laugh a little to cover the truth of it. Hotch keeps his eyes on the road, letting you go at your own pace the same way you let him the entire time he’s known you. “I was really close to his family, and we did our best to remain civil and friendly for everyone else’s sake, but we’ve only kept in touch through other people the last few years.

“I think his mom sent the invitation. I mostly accepted because I’d love to see her and Austin’s little sister - I miss them the most.”

“What are they like?”

There’s a smile on your face as you tell him about them - how Allison likes more cream than actual coffee in her mug, how their mom has the best taste in books and still sends you worn copies of her favorites every once and awhile.

“It’s good of you to keep in touch.”

You shrug. “I guess. I mean, I know it’s different, but you have Jess.”

The difference, he decides, is that you are kinder, more patient than he is. Jess would hardly be in his life at all if Haley was still here. He had a hard enough time keeping up with Haley’s family when they were married. Keeping up with them after the divorce?

There was no way to know, but he can’t remember much affection between them even before Haley’s father decided to hold him personally responsible for her death.

You notice his preoccupation, and reach out. Your thumb traces back and forth over the skin of his bare forearm. “It’s different now, and it would be different then. There’s no right way to do anything.”

He exhales in a huff, and you bring your hand back into your lap. “I spent almost twenty-five years knowing Haley. You know that?”

“I do. I also know you spent longer than twenty-five loving her, and probably won’t ever stop.”

There’s a sigh, and then an elbow on the center console. He leans heavily on it, and you do your best to keep your hands to yourself. “How do you know everything?” He asks.

You rest your head against the seat and adjust so your body is angled toward him. A small smile crosses your face as you take in his profile - relaxed, his wrist hanging loosely on the wheel, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I dunno. I guess I just pay attention.”

+++

You let out an exhausted exhale upon reaching the room you will share with Aaron for the weekend. One king size bed dominates the room, instead of the two doubles you halfway expected. He recovers faster than you do, shrugging and setting his things down on the left side of the bed, closest to the door.

Instinctively and completely without previous confirmation, you kind of figured he sleeps on the left side. The realization of that fact is a little unsettling, but you follow his lead and set your suitcase on the stand opposite his, unzipping it and unfolding your garment bag.

There’s a small part of you that’s pleased by this arrangement. Another part of you shames that part.

He’s going to think you’re taking advantage of him.

Are you kidding? He’s a SWAT-trained senior FBI agent. And a lawyer. It’s impossible to take advantage of him.

Yeah, of course that’s what he wants you to think.

Do you ever shut up?

Your outfits for the cocktail hour and the ceremony day are all set. So are Hotch’s, apparently. You look over to find him hanging a grey pinstripe suit in the closet you’d never seen before. It looks beautifully tailored, and expensive.

“Mind if I take up some real estate?” You ask, holding up your handful of hangers. He shakes his head and makes some space for you.

When you’re all settled, you sit on the bed, still tired. It doesn’t make any sense, seeing as Aaron insisted on driving the entire way.

“What time is our first obligation?”

You huff a laugh at his rhetoric. “5pm. Cocktails at the hotel bar. Rehearsal dinner after that is wedding-party-only, thank God.” Glancing at the clock, you confirm, “We basically have the day to ourselves until then.”

He nods thoughtfully before meeting your eyes over your shoulder. “How do you feel about a nap?”

I love you.

Shut up.

You can’t imagine how tired he is - working off minimal sleep and coming off a drive just shy of four hours long. “I feel great about a nap.”

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he picks up a pair of flannel pajama pants from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

You quickly shuck your sweatshirt, suddenly too warm. Standing, you cross to the window and draw the blinds, covering the room in a kind of gentle shade that isn’t quite darkness. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers, thankful you never really changed out of your pajamas. Curling up facing the bathroom door, you try to stay awake until Hotch returns, but your eyes close of their own accord.

Hotch leaves the bathroom to find the room darkened and you under the covers, dead to the world. He takes another moment to look at you, the way your brow sits smooth and relaxed above your closed eyes, your hands curled loosely in front of your face, the way your breath evenly comes and goes past the curve of your lips.

Taking the risk, he places his jeans back into his duffle bag and gingerly stretches out on top of the covers beside you. His eyes close eventually, but he can’t remember falling asleep - entirely preoccupied by the phenomenon before him.

+++

When you stir again, your hands are warm. You take a deep breath and your eyes crack open, finding a sight that steals your breath. Hotch is on his side in front of you, ramrod straight, with your hands clasped between his. Your heads are bowed together - not touching, but close.

There’s no memory of him joining you in the massive bed, nor any recollection of contact, so he either held your hands on his own, or you found each other in sleep.

You’re not sure which one makes your heart flutter faster.

Resolving to get a little more sleep, you close your eyes. Only moments later, you feel him stir beside you. You know he’s watching you, and you endeavor to keep your breath even and slow, hoping he can’t hear the racing of your heart.

He releases one of your hands, and you let it drop down to the cover, praying your fingers don’t twitch.

You’re proud of yourself when you don’t flinch as his fingers brush butterfly-soft against your cheek, tracing from your brow bone, down your nose and across your lips. Impossibly gentle touches find their way down your temple to your jaw before disappearing.

His hand closes around yours again and it takes everything you have to keep your breath steady as he presses his lips to your fingers before tucking them back to his chest. When his breath evens out again, you know he’s asleep.

You open your eyes, thinking it's more than high time to study him for a change.

He looks years younger in his sleep, closer to your age than his. Even awake, he hardly looks the picture of a father in his mid-forties. His graceful aging is more obvious when his face isn’t drawn up in stress or that aching kind of sadness that lingers around him.

Curious about what he saw and felt on your face, you follow his path, slipping your hand out from under his, tracing his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his handsome, straight nose.

Your finger rests lightly on his cupid’s bow for a moment, his breath rushing slow and warm over your hand. The feeling of his breath stalls yours, and you swallow. The next breath you take is almost a sob, and you press your lips into a thin line. Light fingers brush through the hair at his temples, the sparse, soft silver strands seeming to glow in the low light.

What you don’t know, however, is that he has taken a page out of your book. Though his eyes are closed and his breath even, he is very much awake, heart pounding. He’s sure you can hear it, or even feel it, with your remaining hand still trapped between his.

The catch in your breath makes his chest ache. Even then, his eyes remain closed, and he’s mindful of his breath. With the route you take, tracing his features, he realizes with a shock of adrenaline and cold panic that you were probably awake, playing at sleep then as he was now.

If that was the case, you know how he feels about you. He knows how you feel about him.

But you can’t. You don’t want to take up space in his life he doesn’t have, space better used to heal, space reserved for his son.

He can’t. It's too soon. He can’t subject you to the ghosts, the baggage, the long journey to wholeness he’s endeavored to embark upon with only his son at his side.

The new normal, his therapist had told him, is the hardest thing to find.

He was sure, then, that it would be easier to find the new normal on his own, but he wasn’t so sure, now.

You slip your hands away from him entirely and roll over, making play at rising. You check the time on your phone, finding the early afternoon awaiting you.

There’s a deep breath and a stretching noise, and you turn to find Aaron rolled over on his back, his hands laced behind his head.

“Good afternoon,” you say, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding normal.

A smile plays at his lips. He looks like he knows something. “Good afternoon.”

“So, tonight.” You decide it’s best to move on before anyone admits anything they don’t mean to share. “Do you just want to be ‘work friends’ or do we want to lean into the whole ‘let’s ruin Austin’s life’ thing?”

He laughs a little. “I’m comfortable leaning in if you are.”

+++

The cocktail hour isn’t as horrible as you thought it would be. Aaron sticks to your side like glue, your right hand firmly placed in the crook of his arm while your left babysits a small glass of wine, more for show than for anything else.

You hear your name from across the room, and you see a huddle of some old friends and their respective dates. Aaron tips his head down to get the briefing, and you tell him names, relationships, and brief histories as you approach.

As you expected, he’s warm and charming, taking cues from you as you navigate eight years of catch-up with classmates you remember well and alleged classmates you don’t recognize at all.

“How did you two meet?” The woman asks (You’re certain she’s someone’s sister - Hotch caught her name while you missed it. Oops.).

You glance up at Aaron for a second before answering. “We’re in the same department at work.”

The man with her takes a sip of his drink. Him, you kind of recognize. Casey? Carson? Maybe. “Where is that, again? I can’t remember where you landed after your internship.”

“DoJ, in Quantico.”

Leslie, who you met in guided research your senior year, rolls her eyes. “They work for the FBI, Carson, keep up.”

Carson, that’s it.

“No shit!”

A small group has gathered around you, and you shuffle closer to Aaron. He wraps his arm around your waist and steps a little behind you, protective and secure.

“Shit,” you reply, jostling Aaron with your shoulder. “We don’t have our creds on us tonight, so if you get arrested you’ll have to bail yourselves out.”

“We also don’t have jurisdiction even if we did, so keep it high and tight and we’ll all do just fine.” Aaron’s voice rumbles through you with a laugh, and you take an overlarge sip of wine.

He really shouldn’t say things like high and tight with his hand where it is.

And his hand isn’t really in any kind of questionable location, just resting above your hip with his chest to your back, but it's still more contact than you’re used to. He wasn’t joking about leaning in.

“There he is!” Carson crows, and your head whips around. You almost lose your balance, but Hotch keeps his feet. A warm hand presses to your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whisper. You know he can hear you, and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Always.”

It’s just an act. He doesn't mean it. He can’t mean it.

Austin approaches with his drop-dead gorgeous fiancee and a smile.

Aaron releases you as Austin gives you a warmer hug than you were expecting, and examines Hotch over your shoulder. He introduces you to his fiancee (Madeline), and you introduce them both to Aaron.

“Austin, this is my…” you pause, realizing you never actually established a cover story, letting the implication speak for itself. “Aaron.” You recover with a light laugh, and Aaron pulls you to him with one hand while he shakes Austin’s with the other.

You try not to smirk at the grimace that flashes across Austin’s face when Aaron’s hand closes around his in a very firm and assertive handshake. “Pleasure. Congratulations.”

Austin laughs, a little uncomfortable, and stretches his hand once it reaches his side again. “Thanks. We’re really glad you both could make it. Mom will be really happy to see you.”

+++

“That could have been so much worse.” You shuck Aaron’s blazer off your shoulders and hang it in the closet as he passes behind you. He’d passed it to you when you shivered slightly at the bar and it wasn’t even a point of conversation. It had been second nature to him, draping it over you and placing a hand on your back. The memory pulls a smile from your lips. “Thank you for enduring the mayhem down there.”

Aaron sits on the bed and slips off his boots. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a social event that didn’t directly affect my career trajectory.” He looks up at you, and his grin makes your heart skip around in your chest.

You shake your head, walking past him to retrieve your pajamas and toothbrush. “Do you ever want to move up the chain at all?”

“Not really. Something big would have to change to get me to leave the BAU.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “We tried that, remember?”

“I do, actually.” At his chuckle, you continue. “I can’t say that’s something I’d like to relive anytime soon.”

You move easily around each other, changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth and getting otherwise ready for bed. He’s cute at night, with his pajamas and floppy hair and big yawns. It’s not like you haven’t seen this side of him before, what with all the late nights watching movies with Jack, but it is significant that it’s just the two of you. He’s not Jack’s Dad right now, or Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner who won’t go to bed until The Case Is Solved, but Aaron.

Sleepy, charming, funny Aaron.

Eventually, you throw back the covers and crawl in without thinking about it too much, while Aaron lingers in the bathroom doorway.

“I really can take the couch.”

You look at him and pointedly turn off the lamp resting on your side table. “We’re adults. I don’t mind it if you don’t. And for that matter, if either one of us is sleeping on the couch it’s me.”

“Oh?” He asks. “Why’s that?”

“Because as you so astutely pointed out earlier, I am significantly younger than you, and I think my back will fare better than yours after a night of lumpy cushions.”

The bathroom light flips off, and you hear a scoff in the dark. “Never once did I say significantly younger.”

“Well, Aaron, ‘before your time’ is rife with implication.”

The mattress dips beside you, and his form takes shape in the darkness, facing you. Before he can speak again, you cut him off.

“You know what? Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to, and I would hate for you to go full-tilt lawyer on me.” You curl up, bringing the covers to your chin. He laughs, and you can almost pretend that this is your life, that you get to fall asleep beside Aaron every night.

Don’t get comfortable.

Why not? He’s here, isn’t he?

He is, but not like that. This is a favor for a friend, nothing more.

You’re both quiet for a little while, listening to each other breathe in the dark. There’s a sigh, and you belatedly realize it came from you.

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice floats to you in the dark, and you nod. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

You think for a moment, trying to articulate your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re here with me this weekend.” A hand reaches out, and you find it.

“Of course. I’m glad I can be here for you.” He means it. The trust you’ve placed in him does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Your willingness to be vulnerable and funny and so yourself is a precious gift to him, and one he’ll never take for granted. “Thank you for letting me come.”

I’d like to let you come -

Ew, dude.

What?

Now is not the time.

“With that in mind,” he continues, his voice gentle in the dark, “I’m really proud of you. And not in a ‘I’m your boss and you’re making significant progress,’ way. As your friend, I’m really proud of you.”

Your friend.

He is your friend.

I know but that…sucks.

It doesn’t have to.

There’s something in his voice that almost makes you stupid, but you hold your tongue. “Goodnight, Hotch.”

He takes a deep breath, missing the way his first name fits in your mouth. It sounds safe there, like you’d never use it against him. “Goodnight.”

+++

You feel warm and feeling somewhat constricted, but not uncomfortable. There’s weight at your back and an arm around your waist, and you lean into it in your state of half-wakefulness. A little noise leaves the body behind you, almost like a sigh with tone.

Remembering where you are, you resist the instinct to jump. Hotch is wrapped around you like a koala, his knee between yours, one arm under your head and the other around your waist, face buried into the crook of your neck and shoulder.

His hair smells divine, and he’s so warm.

Your theory from yesterday morning seems confirmed - you definitely didn’t fall asleep touching each other, so you must have found each other in the night. The thought warms you, and you close your eyes again.

The ceremony isn’t until the early afternoon, so you have all the time in the world to doze and prepare for the hellscape of the day.

That’s not a fair assessment. You think, and correct yourself.

If the prior evening was any indication, things would go smoothly. Aaron was the world’s best wingman. He kept conversation flowing and took your cues without a second’s hesitation. Everyone loved him, and people asked you all night how you met, how long you’d known each other, how long you’d been together. The first questions were easy, but the last one was one you hadn’t prepared for. He, of course, had an answer for all three.

“We work together.”

“We met, what? Five years ago now? Maybe a little more?”

“We’ve been partners for almost four years.”

And...he wasn’t lying. You always paired off with him at work, whether naturally or by assignment. His lack of specifics in defining your relationship both settled and raised your blood pressure, depending on the way you decided to approach it. The words accompanied an affectionate squeeze around your waist or a kiss to the back of your hand.

You know he’s just playing the part for the weekend and everything will go back to normal when you get home.

But God, he’s good at it.

You almost believe him.

He’s still sleeping behind you, his breath fanning slow and even across your shoulder. You’re both fully clothed, but there’s something intimate about it. Sleep, you think, is inherently vulnerable, inherently a trusting state. You two not only managed to fall asleep in the same bed, but woke up tangled together.

You drop your hand to your waist and rest your hand on top of his, falling back into sleep without too much thought.

When Hotch wakes, it’s thankfully late. He’s far too comfortable to be in a hotel bed, but quickly realizes it’s not the mattress. You’re wrapped in his arms, and for a split second he almost panics, concerned that you’ll wake to find him glommed onto you like some kind of ridiculous backpack.

But then he remembers the way your fingers traced his face when you were sure he was asleep, the way you leaned into him the night before - taking shelter in his willing arms.

He feels your fingers pushed between his, your palm warm against the back of his hand, holding him to you.

He’s fucked. He’s totally and completely fucked. He’s even more fucked to even consider the possibility you’re fucked, too.

How could you possibly want him? A man nearly fifteen years older than you, with one failed marriage under his belt, an inability to tear himself away from his work, and more than enough trauma to drown in is hardly the ideal partner for someone as vibrant as you, with so much life yet to live.

And yet, it’s so hard to imagine a life without you. Whenever he looks into his future, he sees you there with him. It’s far too easy to let himself fall into the fantasy as you peacefully sleep in his arms with your fingers laced together.

You shift a little in your sleep, and he arches his back a little, definitely trying to keep you away from...certain parts of his anatomy that are a little more awake than the rest of him.

Quit while you’re ahead, Hotchner.

He very gingerly disentangles himself from you, and he’s pleased when he only gets a few sleepy protests in return. The shower is calling his name, for more than one reason including but not limited to the uncomfortable tightness of his flannel pajama pants.

With one last lingering glance at you, he picks up his toiletries and locks himself in the bathroom for a long (very) hot shower, followed by a much shorter (very) cold shower.

While he’s gone, you stir and stretch your arms over your head. A little disoriented, you find his side of the bed empty but not quite cold before you hear the running water of the shower.

What if you just -

Do not finish that thought.

You are not one iota of fun.

Reaching for your bag, you pull your laptop out and get started on some emails. You have a couple from Seaver and one from Emily.

You sigh and pull out your phone.

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, Em. You wanted me to call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how things are going down there.” her voice is the picture of forced nonchalance, and you can almost hear Penelope leaning over her shoulder.

You laugh into the phone and trace patterns on the bedspread. “Things are going well. Hotch was the perfect gentleman last night, and we have the ceremony and reception today. We head home tomorrow morning.”

“Has anything happened? Where is he right now?”

“He’s in the shower. And no, don’t be ridiculous.” You shove your phone under your chin and answer all of Ashley’s questions in confident keystrokes. “You and I both know he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

Aaron pauses in the bathroom, in the middle of towel-drying his hair. With a smile, he overhears: “...he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

He can’t hear the response, but he does hear you when you say. “My God, Em. Would you quit?”

Ah. So it is Emily.

“I’m not going to do anything about it because there’s nothing to do anything about...Don’t give me that...You have absolutely no proof...I don’t care if you’re a profiler or not, there is no way you can say with any definitive certainty -” You pause, and your voice drops to a low murmur he can’t hear over the hum of the bathroom fan.

With a frustrated huff, he ties the towel around his waist and ventures out, entirely aware of his state of undress.

You’re so glad you drop your voice to finish your thought (“- that he’s in love with me. Don’t be stupid.��) because the door opens and you are immediately confronted with Aaron Hotchner in a towel and every single coherent thought flies out of your head. He smiles a little at you, and something in you melts.

“Are you good?” Emily’s voice is full of laughter.

The heat rises in your cheeks and you whip your head back to your laptop, typing just for something to do with your hands. “Yeah, for sure.”

“He just walked out wearing a towel, didn’t he?”

“Emily, you know I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You roll your eyes, and miss the smirk on Hotch’s face as he grabs his hanging clothes from the closet.

“So that’s a yes.”

+++

Austin’s family clearly spared no expense for either the ceremony or the reception. You and Aaron had walked in arm-in-arm to find a spot on the groom’s side near the back. It’s still weird - there was a time where you thought for sure Austin was the be-all-end all for you.

But here you are, sitting next to Aaron. He’s wearing that beautiful suit that looks even better on him than it did on the hanger (and that’s saying something). As promised, his tie matches your outfit, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it made your heart all warm watching him put it on.

The ceremony itself is a blur. You stand and sit when you’re supposed to, and spend the vows with your head on Aaron’s shoulder - playing the role, of course. You take a few unsteady breaths, caught off guard by how affected you are by the ritual of it all.

You don’t love Austin anymore, not by a long shot. That said, the reminder that you’re not married to anybody but work and rapidly approaching thirty is unpleasant.

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s whisper doesn’t carry far.

You nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

You shake your head, the soft wool of his suit jacket pressing into your temple. “Later.”

His cheek presses to your hair for just a moment. He’s not worried about you, per se, but he’s never seen you in this existentially forlorn state before. It’s a feeling he recognizes in himself, but to see it on you makes him feel a new kind of helpless.

+++

You’re at the open bar, snagging a glass of wine for yourself and two fingers of whiskey for Aaron (the good stuff, of course), when Austin’s mother warmly accosts you.

“Darling!”

Against your will, a genuine smile breaks out across your face. “Hey, Laurie!” You set the drinks down and embrace her, the familiar smell of her perfume engulfing you. Suddenly, you feel nineteen years old again. “Congratulations.”

She pulls back and waves off your good wishes. “Oh, please. I haven’t done anything.”

You laugh and shake your head. “I beg to differ, but alright.”

She takes you under her arm and holds you close to her. “So.” Her tone is conspiratorial, as if a great plot is to unfold before you. “Who is that devastatingly handsome man you’ve brought with you to shame my son?”

“I did not bring him to shame your son, he offered to come when my original date bailed. You remember Dean?”

“Of course. Such a sweet boy. Still married to his work?”

You shake your head. “I would be...hypocritical of me to get upset with him for that. My work at the bureau keeps me plenty busy. If I’m honest, this is the first personal time I’ve used in four years.”

She squeezes you for a half-second. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.” Her lips purse. “But don’t think you can get out of telling me about that fine, fine man over there.”

“His name is Aaron,” you start, fighting a smile. “We work together at the bureau and he’s just a friend, Laurie, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I always have ideas. Now, introduce me so I can see for myself.”

With a long-suffering sigh, you grab the drinks off the bar and lead her to the table, where Aaron sits with his fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth, his elbow on the table and ankle crossed over his knee. Approaching from behind him, you set the whiskey down where he can’t knock it over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Aaron.”

He turns, and a broad smile breaks out over his face. You’re sure he’s just being polite - you’ve never seen him smile so much. Offering a hand to Laurie, he stands. “SSA Aaron Hotchner. Thank you for having us. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” She laughs lightly and takes his hand in both of our own. “Laurie Miller. As I’m sure you know, I have a great amount of love for this one here.” She releases Aaron’s hand and tucks you into her arms again, kissing your cheek. You laugh, tickled by her demonstrative affection designed only to embarrass you.

“C’mon, Laur. You don’t have to lie for my benefit.”

You try to ignore the fondness in Aaron’s eyes as he watches the two of you, Laurie cooing over you and your successes. She returns her focus back to Aaron. “Sit, sit and tell me what you crazy kids get up to over there in Quantico.”

Aaron sits and relaxes back into his chair, resting his arm on the back of your seat. You lean forward with your elbows on the table, your hands propping up your head. Aaron’s a great storyteller, of course, and it’s so interesting to watch him talk about work outside of the context itself. He seems to bloom - effusive, charming, and warm - before you.

When you look at him, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

“...Preventing loss of life is always rewarding, and our team is a family.”

Laurie is clearly enamored, completely drawn into his gentle description of your very-stressful and often-gritty line of work. “It’s so lovely you have so much fondness for each other. I imagine it makes everything much easier.”

He nods, and glances at you. “It does.”

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you excuse yourself with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Dean, you bastard!” You answer. Hotch’s huff of laughter tells you he overheard it, but he picks up right where he left off with Laurie.

As you step out onto the banquet hall balcony, almost feel bad leaving him to his own devices, but then you remember all the times he’s been left alone with serial killers and you feel much better.

“Hey babe! Are you surviving? Are you alone? Tell me everything.”

You laugh into the phone. “I’m doing alright. Hotch actually offered to come with me. I just stepped out, but he’s in there holding his own well enough.”

“Oh my god. When I said that I didn’t actually think you’d do it!”

“What do you mean?” You look up and out over the property, and the views are simply breathtaking. The moonlight falling across the Virginia landscape almost makes the world look like it’s holding its breath.

What it’s waiting for... you’re not sure.

“When I said bring your hot boss to the wedding I was joking. You didn’t ask him, did you?”

You let out a snort and it almost disrupts the peace of the evening. “Of course not. He offered.”

“I have never met a pair of people so fucking stupid in all my life.”

“You’ve never met Hotch, idiot.”

“Don’t have to,” Dean says. “I know you are you’re dumb enough for the both of you.”

+++

When the dancing starts, you’re understandably resistant. The playlist is a playful mix of contemporary and classic music, and you can’t help but laugh when Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) starts to play.

Aaron stands and offers you his hand. You take his hand without thinking, belatedly realizing his intentions.

“Hotch, you can’t be serious.” You stop dead in your tracks, but his grip on your fingers stays firm as he looks back at you with a look of humorous disbelief on his face.

“When have you ever known me to be otherwise?” He tugs you forward, and you fall into his arms with a huff. “Humor me. Just one and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

You glare at him, dubious. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying.”

And at the end of the day, you can’t refuse him anything - especially when he smiles at you like that.

He’s an excellent dancer. Your grip on his shoulder slowly loosens as you grow more comfortable, trusting him to lead you around the dance floor. He holds you tight, his movement playful in a way that’s almost foreign to you.

You’ve seen him dance exactly once, at Haley’s 39th birthday party, the summer before she died.

You catch sight of Austin and Madeline on the other side of the dance floor and avert your gaze when you find Austin looking back at you.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is low, almost a laugh.

Your eyes snap to Aaron’s. “What?”

“Relax.”

“You’re one to talk,” you scoff.

He rolls his eyes and throws you out by one arm, spinning you so your back is to his chest. “I’m plenty relaxed. You are tense.”

The feeling of his heartbeat against your back ruins your resolve and you relent. “It just feels weird.”

“What does?” He spins you back out and pulls you close. You try not to be too distracted by the proximity of his face to yours when you land back against his chest, you hand resting over his heart.

“I just -” you push through your reluctance and admit, “I don’t love him in that way anymore, but it’s super weird to even think that I could have ever thought he was it for me. And now he’s with someone he loves and both of our lives just...kept going after we split, you know?” You shake your head, scattering your thoughts.

He nods. “I do.”

You believe him. The very concept of his heartbreak with Haley - the separation, the anger, the divorce, her death, the love - is overwhelming. You know he understands.

The silence that lapses between you is comfortable.

Yeah, I've done a lot of foolish things That I really didn't mean I could be a broken man Here I am, baby...

When he turns you under his arm, you laugh until you can’t breathe. There’s a smile on his face, too, and there’s something warm and inexplicable about it. You turn the tables on him, turning him under your arm and pulling him back to you.

The song changes to something slower and, true to his word, Aaron keeps you out on the dance floor. You’re exhausted all of a sudden, and your eyes close as you rest your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you for being here with me.”

You’re only sure you spoke aloud when Aaron replies, “Of course.”

+++

Your feet ache when you finally call it quits and head upstairs to your room for the night. Aaron’s suit jacket had long since left him, leaving him rolled sleeves and a loose tie with his top two buttons undone. It traveled from the back of his chair to where it now rests, slung over his arm.

You look over your shoulder as you slip your shoes off. “You look positively rumpled, Agent Hotchner.”

He lets out a laugh, and it makes your breath catch. His laugh always takes you by surprise; it’s much brighter and higher than his speaking register, and frankly, adorable. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime.” And it was true - you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d known him to actually sleep, especially on a case. You could neither confirm nor deny that he even needed it to function prior to this weekend.

The thought makes your cheeks a little warm, and you turn away from him, setting aside your pajamas and packing the rest of your items.

There’s a little chuckle behind you before the bathroom door closes and the shower starts up.

When Aaron leaves the bathroom, his hair wet and pajamas on, you’re asleep. Curled up on top of the covers, out like a light.

He flips all the switches, leaving the room in darkness. Creeping to your side of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down, gingerly shuffling your legs underneath, followed by your torso. You stir a little, and catch his hand as he moves to tuck your hands under the covers.

His eyes close, just for a moment, before slipping his hand out of yours. He’s already dreading going back to his empty apartment tomorrow afternoon.

That feeling is only amplified when you curl up against his chest as soon as he’s settled under the covers, your leg hooked over his.

+++

You wake up warm again, and snuggle into the body beside you. Arms tighten around you, and you remember where you are and who you’re with. Unlike yesterday, you can’t pretend to be asleep - when you look up, Hotch is awake, brown eyes looking down at you.

“Good morning,” he says.

You tuck your face back into his chest. “I’m sorry - I’m clingy when I sleep.”

His laugh sings over the crown of your head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

Don't read into that.

I’m going to.

Don’t.

Fuck.

“What time is it?” You crane your neck and look at the clock on his bedside table, but you can’t quite see with his arm in the way.

“Just before nine. We have an hour before checkout. Want to get packed, grab some breakfast, and head out? I’ll drive.”

“You drove here.” You shove at him and sit up.

He shrugs and you take a moment to admire the tousled, floppy state of his hair. “I like driving.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

You sigh, stretch, stand and start rolling. You brush your teeth (twice) and put your clothes back into your suitcase, zipping it up without much trouble. He, of course, takes it off your hands right away and brings the bags to the car while you take care of checkout.

He meets you outside, sunglasses on, and the sun hits his hair. You can see all the nuances in the black - the touch of silver, the dark browns and reds. They all seem to make a halo around him in the sunshine. “Ready?”

You snap back to attention and give him a wide smile. “Yes, sir!”

Breakfast is an eventful affair. As soon as you sit down, you get a call from Penelope.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up?” You look across the table at Hotch with amusement in your eyes, and he smiles, still digging into his eggs benedict like a starving man.

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh, well we’re just at breakfast, almost on our way back. My laptop is in the car, can I take a look at that for you when I get home?”

Not now, Penelope, I’ll call you when I’m home.

She hums, following right away. “You better give me every single detail as soon as you step through the door or I swear I’ll riot.”

With a laugh, you reply, “Of course. You know, it might be easier if you just stop by - I’ll text you when I get home and we can do dinner or something.” You push your food around your plate, trying to ignore the fact that the only person you actually want to have dinner with is right across from you.

“Perfect. Yeah, just text me when you get home babycakes. Can’t wait!” She hangs up promptly, and your eyebrows raise for a half second.

You put your phone away and shake your head. “She’s very predictable.”

He nods, looking at you from under his brows. “Indeed.”

You both continue to dig into your food, not realizing how hungry you are from all your antics the night before. His phone rings next, and it’s Jack.

“Hey bud!”

There’s nothing better than the way his voice transforms when he speaks to his son. You hear your name and return your attention to his conversation.

“...we’re at a wedding this weekend, remember? We got to go to a big party last night, and we’re driving home today… Yeah,” he looks at you, “we did have a lot of fun… I’m so glad you had a good time with Aunt Jess and the Brooks cousins this weekend… You got to go ice fishing? That’s so exciting! Did Grandpa take you?... Awesome, bud… Sounds good, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?... I love you too.”

When he puts his phone away, you ask, “How’s he doing?”

“It’ll be a fight to get him home, that’s for sure.”

You take another bite of your food. “How are things with Haley’s family? Any better?”

“Not at all. I’m not sure there’s much I can do, at this point. Jess does what she can, but her dad is… not a fan of mine.” There’s a kind of sadness in his eyes, and you almost regret asking.

“I know you know this, but none of this is your fault.” You look into him and hope he can see the sincerity in your eyes, hear it in your voice.

He thinks for a moment, and you’re almost nervous he’s going to disagree (it’s happened before), but he just meets your eyes and says, “Thank you.”

+++

Hotch lets you pick the music on the way home, and doesn’t say a word when you sing along (sometimes good, sometimes bad). He does occasionally smile a little secret smile to himself, which makes your heart skip around in your chest.

At a certain point, you turn the music off and sit back in your seat.

As usual, Aaron knows you’re going to say something long before you say it. “Yes?”

“I know I keep saying this, but thank you for coming with me this weekend.” Your body shifts toward him, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his profile.

“You’re welcome.” He glances at you before looking back at the road. “Thank you for trusting me not to embarrass you in front of people you haven’t seen in almost ten years.”

You smile a kind of lopsided sort of smile. “You could never embarrass me.”

He frowns playfully. “That’s not true.”

“You are exceedingly upstanding, and you just got your hair cut, so the odds are in my favor.”

“Hey!” He self-consciously runs a hand over the back of his hair. You reach over to shove at his shoulder and you’re rewarded with a laugh.

“I’m kidding! I like it long.” You look over fondly at him. “It was longer when I first met you, remember?” You’re not sure why you continue, but you do nevertheless. “You started keeping it shorter after the div - well, after.”

He quirks his brow, the corners of his lips upturned just the smallest amount. “Nobody ever accused you of being unobservant.”

You grin widely at him and turn the radio back on.

+++

You’ve never been more disappointed to see your own driveway in your whole life. Hotch pulls in and turns the ignition off, and you sit in silence for a minute.

There’s so much to think about, and most of it is at least a little uncomfortable. Of course you’re in love with him and he’s your favorite person (and that’s bad enough), but that is even harder to stomach now that you have to go back into the real world.

It’s easy to pretend that it was real, that it wasn’t just for show to make you feel less awful about the direction of your love life. If anything, now that you’re home, you feel even worse.

The only person you want is seemingly the only person you can’t have. There’s something so unattainable about Hotch. You’re not sure if it’s his stern exterior or his age or his role, or if it has more to do with how devastatingly handsome he is, but it’s something.

Aaron wishes he could do anything else, than leave you here at home. Nevertheless, he sighs and gets out of the car. You follow him around back, though you’re not really sure why - he takes your suitcase and insists on carrying it all the way to the door.

You stand there, fumbling with your keys, feeling more and more like a character in a romantic comedy with every passing second. Aaron sets your suitcase on the ground and covers your hands with his. You look up at him, and he leans toward you, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

All you can do is nod, with a tight, closed-mouth smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says

“Bye, Hotch,” you call to him as he trots back to the car. “Thanks again.”

He turns toward you, puts his sunglasses on, opens the door, and says, “Anytime.”

You wave with the tips of your fingers and slide into your house. Your back to do the door, you slide down to the floor and cover your face with your hands.

Fuck.

tagged: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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comphersjost · 4 years ago

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All for You | 4 ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

thank you all so fucking much for all of your kind words and support and love. i though about making an epilogue type of part to tie up loose ends, if that’s what you guys want. let me know?

A week after Matthew walked out on you at the arena, his teammates show up at your door, dragging their wreck of a teammate to the only one he wants - but refuses - to see: you.

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: alcohol, using alcohol to cope, mentions of sex, quite a bit of angst

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

The moment the vibrating starts on your bedside table you know that something’s wrong. The Caller ID reads Noah Hanifin. You should have deleted his number really. Especially after the trainwreck of a game last week. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, needing some sort of lifeline to Matt.

You watch as your phone stops ringing, revealing the notification for 4 missed calls from Noah and the time: 2:04 am. The screen lights up with a photo of him again, and this time you pick up.

“Hello?” you answer groggily, sitting up to turn on the lamp as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Open the door.”

“What?” Your head feels heavy from being woken up in the dead of night. “Noah what are you-”

“Is that Y/N?” you hear through the chaos in the background, and your sleep addled brain faintly registering that the words came from Elias.

“Y/N!” you hear another voice exclaim, and suddenly you're wide awake. “Hi, Y/N, Hanny, dude, tell her she's the most beautiful girl in the world - Hanny listen to me - and her Instagram post was so cute - hey, Hanny!”

You hear more shuffling over the line, and a sharp “Shut up Chucky!” from Noah. Suddenly there’s silence, and Noah’s voice comes out clearer than before.

“Hey,” he says, “We’re bringing Matty up in the elevator, please open the door.”

“Why?” you ask, “He made himself pretty damn clear at the game that he didn't want to see me so -”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Noah interrupts, voice seeping with frustration. “He won't let us take him anywhere but here, okay? He saw you post that photo today and got all sad and mopey when he left practice and then Lindy and I found him like this. He’s been drinking since like 6 o’clock and we barely managed to cut him off like an hour ago and he's a fucking wreck so, please, Y/N, just open the door.”

Maybe that lifeline was a good idea after all.

Cursing under your breath, you reluctantly get out of bed, turning on the lights as you make your way through your apartment. Just as you're swinging the door open, Matt is stumbling out of the elevator, each of his arms thrown around Noah and Elias.

Matt’s eyes light up when he sees you, attempting to escape the grasp of his teammates to rush towards you. “Woah!” Noah says, grasping Matthew’s arm so he doesn't go anywhere. “Dude, relax, you can barely walk.”

You see Matt pout as they get closer, and for some reason the sight makes you tear up. There's something about the way he looks right now, helpless and wide-eyed, being carried by his teammates like a child, that makes your heart ache. When they finally reach your door you try to hide your grimace at the smell of liquor on his breath.

“Hi pretty girl,” Matt slurs with a grin, his head lolling to the side. “Did we wake you up?”

“Yeah,” you say softly, stepping aside to let Noah and Elias practically drag him inside. “That's okay though.”

Matt mumbles something unintelligible as his teammates deposit him on the couch. Noah turns to you when he’s sure Matt won't fall over.

“I'm sorry-” he starts but you put your hand up to stop him.

“It’s okay, Noah,” you reassure him, eyes flickering to the curly-haired boy on your couch. “Is he…?”

“No,” Elias pipes up from beside Matt. “He's the furthest thing from okay, Y/N.” You flinch at his harsh tone, even though you knew he was right. This was your fault. Elias’s expression softens when Noah shoots him a reprimanding glare. “I'm sorry,” he steps towards you, “I didn't mean to-”

“You're right,” you say abruptly, gaze focusing on Matt’s face. His eyes are closed but he's not sleeping, that lopsided grin still on his face. “You're right, Elias. Thank you for bringing him here.”

Noah opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by a complaint from the couch.

“Why are you guys still here?” Matt whines, “I wanna hang out with my girl.” Noah and Elias both glance at you sideways at the last words, but you just sigh.

“You guys can go,” you say softly, “I can take care of him, I got this.”

The two men hesitate for a moment, glancing at each other and seemingly having a silent conversation. They seem to come to an agreement as Elias claps Matty on the back and stands from the couch. You follow the two of them to the door, leaning on it as the two turn to you.

“Guys,” you say, stopping them as they turned to leave. You pause, unsure if you should even ask but- “What did Brady say on the ice?”

Elias inhales sharply, looking at Noah as he attempts to mask the reluctance in his eyes.

“Please,” you whisper.

Noah looks at Elias for a split second before he sighs and his shoulders slump. “He said-” Elias cuts him off before he can finish.

“He said that if Chucky wasn't such a wimp that was afraid of his feelings he could’ve been the one to get the girl.”

You stop breathing.

“That little shit,” you seethe, curling and uncurling your hands before you punch something. “He's such a fucking instigator I'm going to kill him.”

“Why?” Noah asks, tilting his head in confusion. “I mean, Matty came at him for it but, he’s right isn't he?”

“What?” your head snaps towards Noah, eyes wide in shock. “What are you talking about? Brady and I tested the waters and figured we’d be better as friends. He started a fight because he could.”

“No way,” Elias says, “Chucky said-”

“He would have known if he just listened to me!” Noah steps back at your exclamation, glancing to each side down the empty hallway. Your voice drops to a hoarse whisper, “He would have known if he stayed in the fucking trainer’s room and let me explain!”

“You fucked his brother,” Noah reminds you.

“I was in love with Brady, Noah!” you snapped, “That was the point of this whole thing - of everything! And then he told me he loved me out of nowhere!”

Noah scoffs, though he doesn't miss your use of past tense. “It wasn't out of nowhere, Y/N, and you know it. He brought you to games. He brought you to team events. He bailed on us at least once or twice a week to hang out with you. Have you ever even seen him flirt with a girl since you've moved to Calgary?”

“I didn't know what to do! I’m sorry!”

“You don't have to apologize to us,” Elias reminds you, motioning behind you. “He needs you, he's been needing you and I don't - he can't keep doing this to himself. If he's not at practice or a game he's drunk off his ass and even then he can't stop fucking talking about you. God, Y/N, do something and fix this.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I'll try,” you whisper. “Thank you for bringing him here.”

The two bid you goodbye, leaving you alone with Matthew for the first time in months.

“Hi Matty,” you say gently as you find your back to the living room. You brush your fingertips against his forehead, pushing his hair back. His eyes flutter open, adoration and sadness practically shining through his gaze.

He reaches for you, making grabby hands until you sit beside him, maneuvering the two of you so that his head was in your lap. He hums contentedly as you run your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“I saw your Instagram post,” he says quietly. “With you and the ice cream? I love that place, it reminded me of when I took you when you first moved to Calgary.” You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips as he rambles. “I cried when I saw it. I cry a lot lately.” Your chest aches. “I thought it would be easier by now. I thought it wouldn't hurt as much but -” he cuts himself off. Neither of you speak for a few minutes, sitting in silence as the thoughts whirl around your head.

“Y/N/N?” The use of your nickname has you humming questioningly. He hadn't called you that in nearly a year. Whatever it is you thought he might say, nothing could have prepared you for the next words out of his mouth.

“Why don't you love me?” He doesn't sound sad, but his tone tells you he's given up, and you can feel your heart shatter. You stay silent, unsure of whether or not he even wants you to answer. You know it was the right decision when he keeps talking. “Like, why him? Why not me? I love you, did you know that? You know that. I told you, right? You're so pretty Y/N/N, did you know? And you're funny. So funny. And my friends like you, my friends never liked girls I brought around before you moved to Calgary. I didn't like them either - isn't that weird? I don't know why I even bothered. It was always you. Even when we were kids.”

You freeze your movements at that, holding your breath and waiting to see what he says next.

“I mean, I didn't like, know that, yet,” he continues, words slurring slightly. “I always just thought that like, if you asked, I guess, I don't know. But it's always been you. But you kept picking him and I just wanna know why I wasn't enough for you, you know? Elias keeps telling me I’m being dumb and shouldn't be mean to myself or whatever but like, you're it for me, and I just want you to love me like you love him.”

“Matty…” you start, but you're interrupted by a squeaky hic from Matt. You stare at each other for a moment, before the two of you burst into giggles.

“I have the hiccups,” Matty snickers, one hand coming up to grab yours. He intertwines your fingers together, squeezing as your laughter dies down. “God, I love you. You probably don't wanna hear that huh? Well, I missed you. So much.”

“I missed you too Matty,” you lean down to whisper the words against his forehead, kissing the spot gently. “I wish you would've let me explain.”

“Why?” He asks, scrunching his nose. “You love him don't you? I promised to help you and I-” his tone falters for the first time since he got to your place, and he pulls his hand away from yours. “I did what I promised and I thought - I thought maybe when you saw that I loved you like you wanted him to that maybe you'd realize. I thought maybe if I didn't tell you about Autumn you'd finally see that it was me that loved you this whole time. But then you just, you left when you found out and I - I’m sorry, Y/N. I should have never kept it from you. But it's always been him for you right?”

“Not always,” you say quietly. “Not since last year.”

Matt pulls away from you, staggering for a moment from dizziness as he stands up too quickly.

“You can't say that!” he cries desperately, tugging at his hair. “You can't say that to me when you're - when Brady - you and him -”

“Me and him, what, Matty?” you stand up as you ask, taking a step towards him and grabbing his collar to make him look at you. “Me and Brady, Matt, we’re not - I didn't mean for this to happen.”

“I know,” Matt murmurs, eyes flashing to your lips before he squeezes them shut. “I didn't mean for it to happen either.”

“He's still my best friend.” Matthew’s eyes fly open at the statement.

“Wha-what do you mean?” His voice is shaky and uncertain, but there's an unmistakable hint of hope. “Last week - at - at the game?”

You open your mouth to reply, finally say what you've been meaning to for so long and - Matt sways where he stands, his hand flying to cover his mouth as he turns on his heel and runs. You follow him quickly into the bathroom as he falls to his knees in front of the toilet just in time to retch out the contents of his stomach.

You rub his back gently, murmuring sweet things in his ear when his stomach has finally stopped heaving. He coughs a few times before slumping over to the side, head lolling back weakly. You clean him up as much as you can and flush, attempting to help him up. You struggle slightly as his 6’2 frame slumps against you.

“Matty, you gotta help me out here,” you nudge him gently, “I can't carry you, bubs, c’mon, stand up okay?”

He mumbles something about how tired he is, but still stands up as straight as he can. With Matt’s arm around your shoulders, you manage to get him to your bed, letting him slip out of your grasp as he collapses on your bed. You turn to leave the room but a soft groan from your bed stops you.

“Please don't go,” Matt whines softly, grabbing your hand, eyes shut as he lies still over the sheets. “Please.”

“I won't,” you brush his hair away from his forehead affectionately. “I just have to go turn off the lights and get you some water okay?” He hums in acknowledgement and reluctantly drops your hand. You turn off all the lights in your apartment as quickly as you can, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen and a bottle of ibuprofen before going back to your room.

“See?” you said as you placed the water and pills down on the bedside table. “Not even two minutes.” Matty grumbles “Still too long” under his breath and you snort in amusement. You pull his arm so that he's sitting up on the bed, kneeling in front of him. His eyes flutter open, blurry for a moment before focusing on you. A dopey smile spreads on his face as he watches you take off his shoes and socks.

“C’mon, arms up,” you instruct, rolling your eyes when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you. “Matt, you have to go to bed, arms up.” He sighs and relents, letting you change him out of his clothes without any more suggestive looks. You manage to get him into a pair of sweats and t-shirt he’d left months ago.

“Is this mine?” he asks tiredly, smiling softly when you nod. “Thanks for keeping it.”

“I don't steal your clothes just for the fun of it you know, I actually wear them?” you tease, pushing his shoulder lightly. He lets himself fall backwards when you do that, sighing as he pulls the sheets over him.

“You'll stay, right?” he whispers into the dark room after a moment. “Even if you kick me out in the morning, and Brady beats me up again, right now just, please don't leave me again.”

“I’m right here, Matty,” you reassure him, scratching lightly at his scalp. “I promise I'm not going anywhere.”

“Y/N/N?”

“Matt, what part of you need to go to sleep don't you understand?”

“I know lemme just -” he rolls over to his side to face you, resting his cheek against the palm of his hand. He stares at you for a few moments, blinking slowly to try and fight the exhaustion. “I'm sorry for fucking everything up.” Before you get a chance to respond, Matt is out cold.

When your eyes flutter open a few hours later, Matt is still dead asleep. It's times like these you're thankful for your body being used to waking up semi-early. You figured while Matt sleeps his hangover away you could make him breakfast, and maybe actually have a long overdue talk.

You're flipping the last piece of french toast when you feel eyes on you. You turn to see Matt standing awkwardly in the entrance to the kitchen. He seems hesitant, closed off, and you notice he’s wearing his clothes from the night before.

“Hey, good morning,” you smile gently at him, “I was just making some -”

“I should go.” The words are abrupt, and they feel more like a knife to the gut than a slap to the face. “I'm sorry about last night, it won't happen again.”

With that he's turning towards the door but really - you've had enough.

“Sit. The fuck. Down.”

He spins around quickly, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. “I really shouldn't be he-”

“No!” you shout angrily, ignoring Matt’s taken-aback expression. You transfer the last piece of french toast to the place and turn off the stove, taking a deep breath. “Do you remember anything about last night?” you ask quietly.

“Not much, bits and pieces.”

“Well you're not walking away from me again,” you hiss, pointing at the dining room table. It’s already set, the only thing missing being the plates of french toast and eggs in your hands. “Sit.”

Surprisingly, Matt does, watching you carefully as you set the plates down and sit.

“Why didn't you tell me about Autumn?” you ask slowly, watching as he tenses, sitting up straight. “Tell me the truth.”

He's silent for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to get the words out. “I was sick of seeing him hurt you,” he finally admits. “I watched him hurt you for so long, Y/N, I held you while you cried and I - I never want to be the one to make you feel like that.”

“It hurt more when Brady said you knew.” Matt grips the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turn white. “And then you said that you loved me and - we’d spent so long trying to get me to tell Brady how I felt that I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what else to do except walk away.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you repeat.

Matthew clears his throat, eyes focusing in his lap as he says his next words. “Living without you is the worst thing I’ve ever had to do in my entire life. And I know it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. And I’m sorry.” A tear slips down his cheek and you hesitate for a moment, before reaching out and brushing it away with your thumb. You tilt his head towards you, taking in the defeated expression on his face. He keeps talking. “I should have - I shouldn't have told him for you, I shouldn't have told you that I loved you and I - god, Y/N, I’m so fucking sorry for everything.”

“You didn't let me explain last week either,” you remind him.

“I know,” he says, “He just - he said -”

“I know what he said,” you cut him off, “Matt, when you saw me and Brady in December-”

“I really don't wanna hear about you and Brady’s-”

“Shut up, Matt!” You know you're probably being too harsh on him, but you're so incredibly tired of feeling like there's something - someone - missing, and you need his stubborn ass to just listen to you. “Brady and I are not together.” Matt’s mouth drops open, before he frowns. You know what he's going to say and you speak before he can.

“I didn't just fuck him just because Matt, we were - we were testing the waters, okay?” You pause for a moment to try and discern his reaction. When he says nothing, you take a deep breath and say what you've been meaning to for too long. “It didn't work, Matt. Brady is my best friend but, he's not it for me.”

Matt’s eyes are wide, cheeks reddening with every passing second. He grabs a piece of toast and shoves half the thing in his mouth. He chews for a moment, swallows, and then clears his throat.

“He's...not it for you?” You shake your head.

“And…?”

You laugh, reaching for his hand. “And you are, Matty. It just, it took me a little longer than it should have to figure it out.”

Matt seems frozen in place, unsure of what his next move should be. Instead of speaking he wolfs down the rest of the toast.

“So you mean to tell me,” he stands, pacing in front of you, “that Brady was fucking with me?”

“Of course he was fucking with you,” you said exasperatedly. “It’s Brady. He's a dumbass though so he fucked with you over something that was causing you real pain. I - I was causing you real pain. And myself. And I’m sorry.”

Matt freezes, turning on his heel to face you.

“Say it,” he says, reaching a hand out to you.

A grin spreads across your face as you take it, letting him pull you up until you were standing chest to chest with him. He looks down at you with bright, hopefully blue eyes. He's already leaning down to meet your mouth with his when you say it.

“I love you too, Matty.”

fin (sort of)

#thank you guys so fucking much #matthew tkachuk imagine #brady tkachuk imagine #all for you series #calgary flames #ottawa senators #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #smut #angst

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trblhyuns · 3 years ago

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imagine us. (pt.1 and we were eating)

pairing// hyunjin-reader main &&lil chan-reader for a little

tws// use of drugs and alcohol, suggestive scenes, hyunjin can be a dick sometimes and it hurts

— lighthearted

prologue / masterlist / pt.2

pt.1 wc: 1989

his cologne caught my nose. it smells just like the one i had got for my little brother this past christmas. when my brother wore it it smelt nice, and i liked the undernotes but on him, it just smelt weird. but now i could smell the same undertone and it was pleasingly sweet, but mostly smelled like dude. not like locker room dude but like shaves his face with a straight razor, changes his own oil, shops at nordstrom rack dude. my brother said he wanted it because he saw it in some pickup artist video saying that it was the best scent to get girls. i wonder if he got it because of that video too. not saying that if i smelled it on my brother that i would find him attractive too. ew. i know that scents change depending on the person who is wearing them. but the smell, or more likely the aura radiating off this guy is making my head turn.

i can only catch a glimpse of the head of hair on this guy. blonde and long. like the barbies i used to play with my elementary school when i would spend the night. i want to see more of him. his smell is luring me in. i feel like a dog looking for a treat that it hid months ago.

"why do you keep looking at the booth behind you" jisung looks into me, using scissors to cut the sizzling pork belly into small pieces. i fold into myself watching the pieces fall onto the round charcoal grill between us. "you're so weird." he shakes his head before going back to grilling the meat.

"okay try to see past all the smell of the expensive meat, which i am paying for, may remind you before you call me weird. but you smell that?" he looks at me while squinting his eyes, slowly he puts down the tongs and scissors. his fingers stroke his chin and within a few moments his features scrunch up.

"yeah i smell that. oh my god."

"really? i thought i was crazy." relief falls over me. i'm not the only one who can smell it.

"yeah it smells so fucking bad, it's like there is a y/n here stinking the whole restaurant up. yeah, i don't think i can eat anymore" he drops his hands on the table. my eyes droop. i look up at him from hooded lids, trying to put on the most deadpan face i can.

"yeah, i think you're paying now buddy."

"but y/n~~~ i was like um just playing, but for real it smells like dude. you know when you come to the studio with me and the middle schoolers leave because the youth classes end. yeah, yeah. like when the youth classes end. onions and axe." i chuckle at his response before grabbing a piece of the now grilled pork belly off the grill and putting it on my plate. i can not express how excited i am to eat this pork belly. it distracts me enough from what we were talking about before, and as i am ready to bring the food up to my mouth i am soon more distracted by the sound of the tall man scooting out from the booth behind me, napkin clad in hand making his way over to the buffet, probably to get more sides.

"jisung do you need more sides?"

"no, i need more front."

"what?" i looked at him puzzled trying to figure out what he means.

"i need to see the front of that guy who smells like onions and axe, was that what you were trying to look at in the booth behind you. because i'm going to let you know right now, just by looking at the back of onion and axe guy you have no chance."

i stare at him again.

"bitch what the fuck." jisung puts his hand up to his forehead, which i just flicked. "again, i was just joking gotdamn. if you want to talk to him this is your chance i guess. i want more radish now be nice and go get me some since you just flicked me." i roll my eyes still staring while my eyes close into a tight glare shooting at him. i look over at the buffet, and he is nowhere to be seen. usually, by now i would have kicked jisung under the table for being so mean, but he was right. this was a good time to go see what this guy was all about. and, i want to smell him. as appetizing as this porkbelly smells, and how much i was craving to eat it, he smells more delicious. but jisung's words play in my head again onions and axe. it makes me chuckle.

i get up and make my way towards the buffet. it's the dinner rush, and since this was the only good bbq spot in the town at the moment, i have to dodge busy servers, and the sound of conversations, and maybe even a fighting couple pass by me as i make my way over.

trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, i try to look around me taking in the surroundings of the restaurant, but trying to spot the full head of blonde hair. i put the plastic gloves over my hands, grabbing a plate from under the food, and then mindlessly— and may i add very slowly— put things onto the plate. i see him a bit of the way over just staring at the meat fridge. the blonde hair pulls me in and i'm about to make my move before i feel a sting on my face. quickly i wipe my hand over my face trying to scratch before i realize i now have the residue of whatever was on my gloves, but what's even worse i don't have my mask on. the blood rushes to my face as i quickly make my way back to the booth where jisung is waiting for me.

"dude you didn't even get any radish." he looks at me, looking like he is trying to hold back his laughter as he throws a napkin at my face.

"do you think he saw me, oh my god, what if he did, he probably thinks i'm some freak anti-masker trying to spread my germs to everyone."

"i mean i would." jisung retorts at me.

"you're such a dick" i throw my crumpled-up napkin back at him.

"yeah but who begged me to come out to eat with her, and who made me cancel my studio time just because little y/n can't grill food by herself, and can't stand the thought of eating out alone." his pout becomes deeper with each word he says, and his voice becomes squeaker at the same rate.

"yeah but who gets to eat for free?" i imitate him. this makes him purse his lips, a playful look on his face as he goes back to eating the sides i brought back from the buffet. he looks around before eyeing the direction of the buffet.

"yoooo YOOOOOOOO y/n y/n y/n. i know that guy." he has a surprised look on his face, but not hiding the fact that he is a little excited. like a little lab dog. i open my eyes wide, ready to hear how i can get closer to him. "i've seen him at the studio before. you know that guy chan i have been trying to get you to bang so i can live vicariously through you, yeah i think he is friends with him."

"first of all, i don't know why you keep trying to live vicariously through me. especially since the situation is me having sex with chan. because you are like. straight. but maybe i should hit up chan now haha." i play with the straw that's sitting in my water cup while jisung pulls out his phone, scrolling through. he looked so focused, a look i only see when he is trying to mix a new track, or while he stares at himself in the mirror while dancing. i wait there for a while, distributing the rest of the cooked meat between us. before i can start to eat jisung shoves his phone in my face.

"okay i got his snapchat and apparently he is here with this girl as you can see by the story i am showing you right now." that was quick, but expected from jisung.

i take his phone out of his hands, holding it closer to my face so i can read the caption better. remembering that they are in the booth behind us, i remember to lower my voice before i speak.

"okay first of all who comes to a bbq place and orders off the kitchen menu. and do you think they are dating, like is the emoji meant to be about her or the food, and do you think she is eating the food he is grilling, or do you think she is the type to eat salads on dates to seem more feminine." i start to ramble, obviously jealous over a girl i don't know over a guy i don't know. things have been dry for me lately. school has taken over my life. occasionally i will go out to the club, or the rare party, but being friends with jisung who doesn't get out as much as he used to, i just have never have an excuse to go out and meet more people. this is the action and drama i need in my life right now.

"okay, first of all, y/n you said a lot, and it is a lot to unpack. and i don't know if you know her and have some grudge or sum, but i think you are just reading too much into it." and he's right. i have only seen this guy's face like once, and maybe got a good whiff of him, but i feel like i'm going crazy for no reason. oh my god, i am so deprived of any interaction with anyone.

"let's just forget about it and get the bill. he has a girl so my window has closed." jisung nods in approval and goes to finishing his food. we continue to make small talk and joke around. the server comes to the table black book in hand. i put my card in and wait for him to come back with the reciept.

"wait y/n your tipping too right."

"oh my god jisung, just how broke are you?"

"i'm not broke i'm just trying to save up for these nice ass headphones and i just wanted to ask you to break our little you pay and i tip streak so i can keep a little extra cash so i can hear porn in HD audio."

"okay, okay, just stop talking, gosh. what is up with you today." the server comes back and i scribble in the tip and total before looking at jisung signaling to him to get up.

"nothin.'' he smiles at me as he scoots out from the booth grabbing his bag. "so now that you know that pretty guy isn't available will you FINALLY hit up chan. he has been asking about you." we are walking out of the restaurant now. standing out on the side walk beside the main road. there is traffic tonight downtown, like always. the older people are making their way out of the restaurants, and closing their tabs at bars. the bouncers are going to come out soon, ready to take only the obviously fake ids, and i can imagine a few hours from now the barely dressed girls on the backs of guys they met dancing stumbling down the concrete, or the older college kids playing pool instead of getting wasted.

"i guess now i will."

#straykids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #bang chan #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fic #hyunjin smut

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dimensionwriter · 5 years ago

Text

100 Days

Part One

Alien x Reader

Warning: None

Word Count: 1947

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Okay so this is just an experiment in a way. So just remember to LIKE, COMMENT and REBLOG. I'll appreciate it.

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The creature floated in front of you in a giant alien containment. The container was 12 feet wide and 10 feet tall. The liquid that filled it was enriched with a substance that would allow the creature to continue to thrive even while being out of it's native world.

"How is experiment 337?" A deep voice buzzed in your ear. You jumped at the intrusive noise that disturbed the silence in the room. You sometimes forget that this is actually a job.

"Still unconscious, sir," you reported walking around the containment to look at it's sleeping form.

The creature had grayish blue skin that turned black once it reached it's appendages. It was bipedal with the legs thick and muscular. They had a set of arms that extended from it's shoulder, similars to a human. A second and third set of arms came from their spine and wrapped forward. A thick tail came from it's back and had a length of 3 feet and 2 inches.

"The vitals?" The voice demanded. You held in a sigh and walked over to the computer showing all the vitals. The things on the screen was a lot more complicated than that of a human.

"Fine, I believe. Though, the second heart has slowed down a lot in the last hour. Maybe get one of the doctors to come up here to check them out," you stated sliding through the chart the computer made on the creature's health. You guys didn't know how their normal health looked, so you just take the health they come in as normal and report any change in it.

"Damn thing might be trying to die on us. Well, it's not like it's giving us much information while it's unconscious, so might be a good thing." He ended it with a bark of laughter. You didn't join him as you rolled your eyes at him. He truly didn't have any patience. Some of the creatures that get sent here are here for months before they even begin to show some signs of responsiveness.

"Okay, sir. Please send that doctor in here," you quickly said before tapping your ear piece. You just had to get the boss that's the worse. He does not care for these creatures at all.

"You requested me," a montone voice asked. You turned around to see your vector's doctor walking in. They had a heavy set of bags under their eyes that showed how busy they were.

"Yeah, experiment 337's second heart rate seem to have slowed down," you explain pulling up the chart to show them. They leaned over your shoulder to look at them.

"I'll check on them. You can start your lunch break if you would like," they said looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. You pulled your lab coat back to look at your watch. Your break was supposed to start 20 minutes ago.

"Thanks. You can write anything you find in the notes under Experiment 337. I will see them there if you leave before I'm back," you rambled running around to grab your stuff. It's protocol to leave none of your things behind since you don't know what these creatures can do.

You took off your lab jacket and threw it in the waste bin. Glancing at the doctor, you could already see they were working on the creature. Hopefully nothing is wrong with them.

An hour later, you scan your ID at the door. It open slowly allowing you to see the empty room. Well except for the container with all the machinery hooked up to it. The doctor seem to be gone.

You threw your stuff on the free table and walked over to the metal closet. Inside of here were fresh and sterlized lab coats. There was also some gloves, but that was used if you could touch your experiment. And since yours were unconscious at the moment, it meant that you wouldn't be making any contact for a while.

"Examiner!" Someone yelled causing you to jump. You spun around towards the sound to see the doctor in the container. Their eyes were widen in panic as they struggled in the liquid.

"What? How?!" You stumbled while running to the container. You went to the computer to pull up the container's system. You have ot get them out.

"The creature. He woke up in the middle of me checking on him and he got out. I tried to push the panic alarm, but he sealed me in here. Hurry, get me out!" Their voice yelled out in fear. You stopped typing and turned slowly to the doctor.

"I noticed you said 'he' a lot. We usually say an alien is a they," you said lifting an eyebrow at the 'doctor'. They stopped thrashing and just floated. Since they weren't moving, you could see all the things hooked into them. No alien trying to escape would take the time to stick all those things into a person.

"Hmm, I thought I would identify closest to a male on this planet." The doctor's voice dropped two octaves causing your eyes to widen.

"You can shape shift," you screamed happily running to the glass. He looked exactly like the doctor. He even copied the mole hidden under their hair.

"What about it? You can't," he teased you raising a single eyebrow. It felt weird seeing the doctor, but having the actions and voice be so different.

"Can you please change? I have plenty of questions I want to ask you," you said going back to the computer. You closed the coding for the containment and pulled up the notes on this creature.

"Is this better, babe?" Your fingers froze as you turned your head slowly to the right. The creature was pressed against the glass closest to you. But instead of seeing an alien, you saw yourself.

"What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" The creature teased in your voice. A giant smirk slipped onto your face that looked so unnatural on you. "Well, I guess it's more like I have your tongue."

Laughter came out of your mouth as the creature started floating around. This felt weird. Seeing yourself do all these things while you are standing here really felt like whipflash.

"Wonder what's under here," he sung out before grabbing the front of the shirt. He pulled it away and started peaking around.

"Hey, stop that," you yelled banging on the glass. Deep laughter came from his, well yours, lips as he swam back over to the edge of the glass.

"Don't worry darling." He pulled the shirt down to reveal that underneath was his greyish blue skin. It faded from your skin into his as it passed the collar. "I can't turn into something I don't know."

You quickly turned to the computer and started typing in shapeshifter into his records. Putting a subsection underneath, you added that he can't shift into something he doesn't know or can't see.

"Is there anything else you cant do?" You asked looking over at him. Alien-you leaned back in the liquid and tapped his chin.

"I guess stop being so good looking," he grumbled out. You bit your lip as you thought of a perfect joke. It would be unprofessional to joke around with him, but you have heard other examiner say that they joke and play around with theirs.

"You do look like me, so I will have to agree with you on that statement." His mouth dropped open as soft stutters of laughter escaped. He closed it and rolled his tongue along his teeth.

Slowly, your skin started to turn into that grayish blue until your entire body started to contort. Your clothes turned to ashes before disappearing in the liquid. Jutting his head back, the skull seem to be shifting underneath as it became sharper and fuller.

"I think this looks a little a better," he purred pressing a clawed hand on the glass. He was back to his original form except this time clothed.

A skin tight black material covered from his knees to the peak of his neck, but it didn't cover any of his arms. It kind of reminded you of an old style swim suit in a way, very basic but covered all necessary things.

"So, you can produce clothing on yourself?" You asked thinking of how he perfectly replicated the clothes you were wearing. You leaned over to the computer and typed that in.

"Well, would you like for me to be butt naked in this container?" You stopped typing as you thought it over. It would help with getting data over everything and that increases chance for experiments. "I'm not liking that silence. You pervert."

Embarrassment encased your body as you shook your head trying to rid yourself of the accusation. "No, I was looking at it from a scientific standpoint. I promise."

He swam up and peaked over the top of the glass, so he was starring down at you. His black eyes glimmered with amusement as he threw a swift wink at you. "You can call it whatever you want, baby."

Your jaw dropped in shock at what you assumed was his flirtatious comment. What type of alien were you assigned to examine?

"I-" luckily you were cut off by a voice in your ear interrupting you. You had to stop yourself from letting out a groan as that annoying voice spoke.

"Don't forget we have a required seminar in 39 minutes. Go ahead and put your alien into hibernation and report all vitals before leaving." You rolled your eyes as you remember those dumb seminars. You really didn't want to go.

"Did I blow your mind, buttercup? Guess you imagine what is under my this suit." You zoned back into your environment as you looked back at the alien. Half of his upper body was tilting out of the container at you. His second and third set of arms slowly kept him afloat.

"Sadly, no. I have to put you to sleep now," you commented walking over to the computer. You quickly wrote in the notes that he seems to be made for swimming.

"But if I'm asleep, I can't see that beautiful face of yours," he whined out splashing his tail behind him. Luckily, none of it feel over.

"Don't worry, you can see me in your dreams," you joked typing in the code to send in the sleeping medicine. Blue liquid flowed from the machine and towards the IV stuck into him.

"You didn't even give me your name or give me a name." You tilted your head in confusion at the last statement. Why would you give him a name?

His eyes looked down at the blue liquid as it started going into him. He let out a shaky breath and dropped down into the container. His body slowly sank to the bottom where he leaned against the corner of the container.

You walked towards the glass and gently placed your hand on it. He was blinking slowly at you as he tried to fight the medicine. But you knew in ten seconds, he would be out.

"How about I call you Shark?" You joked looking at his grey skin. Bubbles floated out of his mouth from his laughter. His head plopped against the wall as his eyes shut.

"It's a good thing you cute or I would be offended by that." Silence followed as his breathing even out. The rest of his body sunk down into the floor.

Work was about to get a lot more exciting with him around. Maybe you could actually start looking forward to this.

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So this is going to be an ongoing stories. I want to try to use some stories prompt or word prompts for this as practice for my writing. Also, I want to try to write a flirty character instead of a soft blushy one like usual. So this entire thing is a giant experiment for me. So leave a comment and let me know what you think.💜💜💜💜💜

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atiny-ahgase · 4 years ago

Text

Does He Know That?

Author’s Note: I’m not really that confident in my writing skill do I don’t usually enjoy writing what I see as being long stories but I really like this one. Probably has a little too much plot but that’s okay.

Summary: Your bad day lasts throughout the entire week and you want nothing more than to just relax with your boyfriend who is busy working on his comeback.

Pairing: Yeosang x Female reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Genre: Fluff, Angst

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“Sangie! Wait up,” you yell to the blonde head of hair briefly peeking out above the crowd of students. You squeeze your way through, breathlessly catching up with him. “Yeosang,” you whine “, you walk too quickly,” you say while clutching your chest breathlessly. “Maybe you just walk too slowly,” he teases while smiling down at you. His golden hair appearing even more beautiful in the morning light, framing his flawless face even more.

You smile back at him, eyes rolling slightly at his remark. Your best friend really was a sight for sore eyes. When he wasn’t acting like a teasing five-year-old he was pretty charming. He turns on his heels, proceeding to walk in his previous direction. “You coming!” you hear him shout. You release an exaggerated sigh before running after him.

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You’d met Yeosang on your first day of university, you were running late for your class; unable to find the correct building. Frantically rushing around a corner you collided with another student. That’s where you met. Falling with a thump, both of you landed on the floor, your respective documents joining shortly.

“Wow, where’s the fire,” you hear him say while standing from the floor. He extended his hand helping you up as well. “Sorry, I’m late for class. I just can’t seem to find the right building,” you sigh, exhaustion clearly in your voice. You both collect the papers littered all over the floor before you attempt to leave.

“What building are you in?” you hear him ask. “Umm...Building 19,” you reply, turning around to meet his eyes. “That’s on the other side of the school you’ll never make it in time,” he responds while taking a step towards you, slowly retrieving your schedule from your hand. “You’re an Art Major,” he proclaims “, this is the History Building,” he continues before returning your schedule.

“It’s at least a half-hour walk to your faculty,” he says, you sigh in response; head hanging in the process.“Thank you umm,” you begin; not really knowing what to call him. “Sorry, I’m Kang Yeosang,” he informs you while offering his hand to you for a handshake smiling brightly as you take his hand. You shake it before introducing yourself as well.

“There are maps at the entrance of each building so that should help you get around better. Don’t get too lost okay Newbie,” he smiles at you, chuckling slightly while continuing down the hallway. He seemed nice. Okay, let’s just focus on finding where every room is since you’ve basically already missed your first class. Can’t afford to get lost every time you have a class.

You’ve spent the rest of your day familiarizing yourself with the layout of the campus. Although you’re still not an expert you can at least find your way around easily enough. Dropping yourself on an adjacent bench you decide to rest a little before eventually heading back to your dorm.

Shuffling through your bag you search for your key card, finding it among a folder full of papers. Grasping it, you remove it from your bag which you attempt to close but a gust of wind causes this usually mundane task to be quite difficult, your papers rustling in the wind. Eventually, you succeed without getting any paper stuck in the zipper.

Unfortunately for you, one paper flew out of your bag and is now flying across the schoolyard. Just great. You grasp your bag firmly at your side before chasing the stray page. The wind had settled down momentarily so you grasped the opportunity and grabbed the page before it gets the chance to blow away once more.

Looking over the contents you soon realize that the page doesn’t belong to you; the student ID was unfamiliar. Where could you have gotten this from? Raking your brain you come to the conclusion that it probably belonged to the Yeosang, the boy you met briefly in the History Building. How do I get it back to him? It looks like it’s important. Thoughts flood your mind. It was your fault that you even had it in the first place, you weren’t paying attention.

Sighing softly, you place the page in your bag before heading to the History Building. It has been at least 2 hours since you were last there, what assurance did you have that he’d still be there? And even if he was there; the building has 3 floors, he could be anywhere. Brushing the doubtful thoughts from your mind you continue on your endeavour.

Upon arriving, you realize that you have no idea where to look, feeling just as confused as you were when you had initially wandered into the said building earlier that day, you sigh, distress obvious on your face.

“Are you lost?” you hear an unfamiliar voice inquire. Spinning around you’re greeted by a pair of deep-set dimples. “No, I’m actually looking for someone,” you respond, taking a step back.

He smiles at you, dimples deepening further. “I’m San, by the way, maybe I know them,” he states. You relax slightly at his words, hoping that he at least knew of Yeosang, honestly, any information would have helped. “Do you know a guy named Yeosang?” you inquire, “ He’s about this tall, has blonde hair and a birthmark over his eye.”

“Oh yeah, Sangie. He’s the Student Representative for one of the boys’ dorms,” San says while tilting his head to the left. Well, I guess that’s where the dorm is.“Thank you,” you tell him before heading to the left. “We could walk you if you’d like”, he states while looking over at his group of friends.

There were 4 of them in total; San who sported a silver streak in his otherwise pitch-black hair, a guy with pale silver hair split down the middle and two taller guys. One with vibrant red hair which could easily outshine the sun and one whose eyes for some reason remind you of a puppy dog.

“It’s getting pretty late, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you,” he reassures. “Thank you but I’ll be fine,” you responded sweetly before heading on your way. The sun was still up and the schoolyard still bustled with groups of people so you weren’t the least bit worried and you knew better than to trust a group of random strangers.

After stopping a few people to ask for directions you finally have the dorm insight. It took you longer than expected, the sun already dropping lower in the sky; welcoming the cold night breeze. Clutching your jacket closer to your body you walk into the reception area.

“Hello,” you greet the security at the desk “, I’m looking for the student rep for this dorm,” you inform him, remembering what San had told you. “Oh Yeosang, he’s in the last room down the hall to your left. You just need to sign the registry first,” he states before handing you a book. You quickly fill in the information before scurrying down the hall. Keeping your head down you ignore the gazes of the other residents before reaching the room in question.

Hesitantly you knock on the door. Hearing faint shuffling from the other side you release a breath of relief. Before long the door swings open and you’re greeted by Yeosang. He wore a loose white t-shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants and a look of surprise. “Um hi,” you begin, a shy smile on your lips. You honestly didn’t think this far ahead.

“Sangie I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” you hear some boys across the hall.

“Guess our student rep isn’t just all books,” another exclaims with a loud laugh. You could feel your face heating up at their childish remarks, causing you to lower your head. Yeosang must have noticed this because you began to softly tug at your arm causing you to lookup.

“I don’t really know why you’re here but it's a lot quieter inside, come on,” he says while stepping to the side; allowing you to walk in. You step past him, thanking him softly. The door clicked as it closed and Yeosang sigh while running his hand through his golden hair.

“I’m sorry about that. I’d say that they’re not usually like that but I’d be lying,” he attempts to lighten the awkward mood. Lightly chuckling you reach into your bag searching for the entire reason you just turned up at this almost complete stranger’s door. “Umm. I think you dropped this when we bumped into each other earlier,” you inform him meekly before directing the paper in his direction.

Retrieving it from your hand he looks it over before clicking his tongue glancing over at you. “So you came all this way looking for someone you hardly knew and have no information about to give them something they dropped?” he asks rather bluntly, his eyes searching yours. “It seemed important,” you mumbled, shifting your field of vision from his face to the floor. You knew it was kinda stupid but he didn’t have to be so blunt about it.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I have a habit of always saying the first thing to come to mind,” he begins to ramble; fingers ruffling his hair before laying on his bed. Your eyes following his every movement. He’s really handsome; managing to keep your attention even when he’s dressed down. How could he not already have a girlfriend?

“Thank you,” he breathes out “, you didn’t have to go through all that trouble, I really do appreciate it.” You fight back the smile threatening to creep up on your face. “You’re welcome,” you respond; your heartwarming at his words “, I should get going though. It’s getting pretty late,” you continue while glancing out of the window.

“I’ll walk you out,” he states. Not really leaving much room for argument. You both walk down the hall, trying to ignore the hollering you receive from the other residents. Yeosang pushes the door open causing a gust of cold wind to greet you. You shiver slightly while hugging your body. “How far is your apartment?” he asks while looking up at the dark blue sky. “It’s on the other side of the campus,” you respond.

“I’ll walk you there,” he says while already beginning to walk. “Are you sure that’s okay? You’re not really dressed for the weather,” you query while looking over what you assume to be his pyjamas for the night. “And you don’t have a single sense of danger. I wouldn’t feel right letting you walk alone. So come on it’s freezing,” he replies now at least 10 steps ahead of you. You hurry behind him.

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You chuckle slightly at the memory of how you two became friends. Even though he was surprisingly blunt you really did cherish his opinion. You knew that it was coming from a place of love and genuine concern. Yeosang was the one person that you knew would always tell you the truth no matter what. He’d never sugar coat any of his words and he’d definitely never lie to you and you really appreciated that.

You had both arrived at the cafe, sitting down once you had received your orders. “You sent in your paper Sangie?” You ask him. “Yeah, now all I have to do is study for finals,” he states, smiling brightly at you.

“How is your collaboration project going?” Yeosang asks before taking a bite of his sandwich. For your end of year project, the Art Majors were paired up with Seniors belonging to the Fashion Department to work with them on their Final Year Project.

The essence of the project was that you’d choose to analyze a form of art, whether it be found in architecture, different painting styles or whatever you’d like, and combine both Majors (Art and Fashion) to create two cohesive pieces; one everyday look and one high fashion look.

You weren’t really the most fashionable person in the world but you couldn’t have asked for a better partner.“Oh it’s going pretty well,” you begin “, we decided to choose Starry Night so our looks will have to be representative of that piece. I was pretty concerned about manipulating the brush strokes on the fabric to mimic the piece but Hongjoong said that he’s got it covered.” you began gushing about your partner.

Usually, you hate any type of group projects because they basically consist of you doing all of the work and being guilt-tripped into putting everyone’s names on the assignment. But this time things were different, you actually have someone you can depend on.

“Seems pretty full of himself if he thinks he can recreate one of the most memorable pieces of art in history,” Yeosang concludes. Sometimes you forget that he’s a history major.

“I think it’s nice. It shows that he believes in himself and his talents”, you state while looking down at your plate. “Let’s just hope it’s not unjustified confidence,” Yeosang snidely remarked.

Okay, you knew that he was blunt but he has literally no justification to be going in on Hongjoong like that. “Sangie”, you sigh; hand reaching out to grip his arm resting on the table. Using your thumb you rub gentle circles along his arm; feeling him stiffen up slightly.

“You’re not usually like this. Is something wrong?” you question looking into his warm brown eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but is quickly cut off by your name being called.

“Y/n. Hey, I didn’t expect to see you over here,” you pinpoint the voice smiling brightly as you realize its Hongjoong. “Hey Joongie!” you exclaim raising from your seat to hug him.

“I just came to get something to eat before class starts. What about you?” you question. “I was passing by and saw something that looked absolutely delectable from through the window and just thought I’d come in to have a closer look,” he states, his hand still around your waist from your precious hug.

“Wow you must be sporting 40-40 vision to notice those pastries from all the way over there,” Yeosang states, obviously not believing his story. The counter was situated more towards the back of the shop but you just brush it off.

“Hi, sorry we haven’t met. I’m Kim Hongjoong; Design Major,” your group partner introduces himself.

“Kang Yeosang; History,” Yeosang states while raising from his seat forcing Hongjoong to look slightly up. Yeosang was in no way one of the tallest guys you’ve known; he is still taller than Hongjoong.

“I have a paper to write so I’ll see you later okay. Text me when your class is over, we’ll study together,” Yeosang states while pulling you into a hug. To say that you were caught off guard would be an understatement. That was the first time Yeosang had ever hugged you. Yeah you were both friends but you just assumed that he wasn’t the hugging type; but apparently not. You smile into the hug, it was nice, you silently wish that he would hug you more often.

The hug didn’t last long before he pulled away looking over at Hongjoong one last time before grabbing his coffee, ruffling your hair and leaving. Didn’t he say that he finished all of his papers? Why would he lie about something like that?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your date,” Hongjoong says nervously while shifting his weight from side to side. You were sure in that moment your cheeks were warmer than the coffee that you left on the table. He thought that you two were together. You and Sangie? He thought that you looked like a couple.

“Oh no it's nothing like that,” you begin almost frantically “, we’re just friends.” Hongjoong’s eyes never drifting from yours. “Really?” he asks; his voice dropping octaves lower than before. You nod slightly, unphased by his change in demeanour.

“That’s great,” he says while brushing a stray hair from your face, fingers lightly grazing the surface of your skin “, I’ll see you in class then.” And just like that, he was gone.

The class was pretty uneventful. No, be honest you weren’t really listening, you were worried about Yeosang. In the time that you have both been friends, he’s never once lied to you. He just isn’t the time. And on top of that, it was a lie about Home Work? Really? Something just didn’t add up; you wanted to ask about it.

“Hey y/n are you okay?” Hongjoong asks once class was over. “Yeah I’m fine I’ve just been feeling a little off today,” you reply. Hongjoong places his hand on your forehead to check your temperature. You know that he’s just being friendly and he’s concerned about your health but every time he touches you it feels wrong. You don’t get that friendly energy that you get from your other friends and you don’t get that warm, safe feeling that you get from Yeosang.

“You don’t seem to have a fever, maybe it was something you ate.” You nod your head slowly, “Yeah probably. But anyway I should be going. I promised that I’d meet up with Yeosang.”

“He won’t die if you don’t hang out with him for one day,” he proclaims while gently gripping your forearm. “Huhh?” confusion dripping from your voice as you turn to face him.

“Y/n. Can I ask you something?” he sighs while looking at his feet.

“Sure,” you simply reply.

“Would you like to go out with me this coming weekend? We could go to the art exhibit that we talked about.” he gleams.

He was asking you out. Kim Hongjoong was asking you out on a date. This is the first time someone has asked you out since you’ve entered University. So why aren’t you more excited?

“Sorry Joongie I can’t. I’m busy that day”, you lie while averting your eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be Saturday, it could be Sunday if you want. Whichever day works for you.” He responds with an air of desperation in his voice.

“Actually I’m not busy,” you confess; the guilt is already beginning to eat you alive. You never were a good liar. “I can’t go because-” “You can’t go because there is no way he would let you,” he interjects.

“Who are you talking about?” you question. You both clearly are not on the same page.

“Your boyfriend. Yeosang was it?” Hongjoong asks, but it doesn’t really sound like a question.

“Sangie isn’t my boyfriend, we’re just friends,” you state, attempting to annoy the sudden ache in your heart that those words cause.

“Does he know that?”

----------

The thunderous downpour of the rain attempts to drown out the ringing of your phone as you try to contact Yeosang. His phone is off, just great. You’re running across the courtyard basically going from building to building until you reach his dorm. You wanted to see him, you needed to see him.

Earlier today he said that he had a paper to write but that was a big fat lie and you knew it. That coupled together with Hongjoong basically insinuating that Yeosang liked you, your mind was a mess. You refused to listen to anything about Yeosang that didn’t come out of his mouth because that’s how much you’ve trusted him. He has always been upfront with you no matter how much it hurt it, that’s why you need to hear it from him.

Finally reaching Yeosang’s dorm building you rush inside; not even bothering to check-in by the front desk cause you’ve been there so many times before. By this time all of your clothes were wet, the rain doing a serious number on you.

Walking up to Yeosang’s door you raised your hand, banging on it harder than usual. “What?” you hear an angered Yeosang ask from inside and within seconds he had swung the door open; ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of his mind.

You saw the drastic change from anger to concern on his face as soon as he laid eyes on you. Realizing that he could never be mad at you. You walk past him, walking straight into his room.

“It’s pouring outside what are you doing here?” No response. He began rustling through his draws in search of what you believe to be some dry clothes for you. “Here wear this, I’ll wait outside.” He hands you a pair of his shorts and a sweatshirt before exiting the room. You quickly change before opening the door and letting him in.

“Why are you here y/n?” he asks but his eyes never reach you, he hasn’t looked at you once since you’ve entered his room. This isn’t like him; he doesn’t just blatantly lie to you and he always looks you in the face while talking to you. Yeosang has always made it a point to look at whoever he is speaking to in the eyes. He said it was something about effective communication, yet here he was, avoiding eye contact.

Ignoring his initial question you ask, “How’s the paper coming along?” while dropping down at his computer table. He sat on his bed, shoulders hunched looking down at his feet. “It’s going pretty well, you could expect a draft to read really soon if you want,” he states, never lifting his head to look at you. He was lying, you could tell. His voice was distant like he was there but his thoughts somewhere else. What was on his mind?

“Remember when we were walking back from the library after studying for Mid-terms? We talked about how you’re such an amazing friend because you’re so honest. I promised you that I wouldn’t lie to you so we could be amazing friends together,” your voice cracks replaying the memory.

Everyone lies you knew that better than anyone but Yeosang wasn’t like everyone else, not to you. He was your first University friend, he’d always make time for you no matter how busy he got and would continuously check up on you during finals. He meant a lot to you, so much more than he would ever know.

He sighs once more; falling back on his bed. “I don’t know what you want me to say y/n.”

“Tell me the truth. What’s up with you lately? Everything was fine yesterday, what’s so different today?” you yell. Standing to your feet. You’re beyond annoyed right now. You know that something is wrong and you wanna help him through whatever it is he’s going through but you can’t because he won’t let you in. What’s with this attitude? What’s with these secrets? Why won’t he just talk to you?

“You want the truth? Fine!” Yeosang shouts, his voice bouncing off the four walls of his small dorm room. “Not once during this entire so-called friendship have I ever thought of you as a friend.” His words crashing into you like a load of bricks. He was the most important person in your life; tearing down walls that you didn’t even know you had.

“Sangie,” you breathe out, almost in a whisper, heart aching every time you look at him.

“Please stop,” he says in a hushed tone “, stop calling me that. It’s painful. Every moment I spend beside you hurts so Goddamn much, I can’t take it anymore.” he says; his voice someone seeming even more crushed than yours.

“I don’t want this friendship! I don’t want to stand beside you as other guys flirt with you, I don’t wanna hear you gushing about the guys in your classes, I don’t want to stand by and be your supportive friend y/n.” With that, he’s once again seated on his bed, hands in his face and breathing heavily.

Mustering up the little fight you can manage to gather after that heartbreaking revelation you ask, “Then what do you want Sang-...Yeosang?”

“You,” he says. Almost in a whisper. His voice sounded so tired, so soft, so...damaged. “I like you y/n, I’ve always liked you. You’re the only person I know that truly gets me.”

“You’re not deterred by my bluntness, you’re not deceived by my lies, no matter how many times I try to push you away you see right through me.”

He’s now looking up at you, his face red and tears threatening to fall. “I like you to Sangie,” you reply while taking a tentative step towards him. You did like him. You didn’t know when you had started experiencing those feeling for him but you were made aware of it by San; who you’ve been getting pretty close to.

San had asked what kind of guys you were into (he was tryna set you up with one of his friends), when you had responded he couldn’t stop laughing. You asked him about it and he simply said “, You know that you just described Yeosang perfectly right?” He promised that he wouldn’t say anything and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

And look where that mindset has you. Face to face with a tear-faced Yeosang. You really messed up..

“Stop lying!” he shouts, startling you. “You don’t need to lie to me to keep me by your side,” he continues. He doesn’t believe you and why should he? He’s been harbouring feelings for you this entire time and you just couldn’t see it.

Even though you love him so much, he can’t see his pain. He was hurting because of you, he’s been hurting because of you. You feel your body move on its own. Before your brain can even register you’re already standing between Yeosang’s legs holding him in your arm.

His arms tentatively rest on your waist as you hold him close to your chest, just nuzzling his head. “Sangie” you whisper “, I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I’m sorry that I couldn’t see you even though you always saw me,” your voice begins to crack. You feel his grip on waist tighten as his fingers grasp the sweatshirt that you’re wearing. “I promised that I’d never lie to you, so please believe me when I saw that you’re the best part of every day and I’m so happy to be a part of your life.”

“If you’re not with me I don’t know what I would do. I spent all day worrying about you, I wait at my phone wherever you say that you’re gonna call me. I take the long way to class every day just so I could pass by the History Building and see you sitting under the big oak tree.” you confess. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t come to terms with my feelings sooner but I really do like you.”

You feel him shuffle beneath your grip. Releasing your hands you look down at him as he looks up at you. He looks so vulnerable, you can’t believe that you caused that.

“I won’t stand idly by as other guys flirt with you,” he begins “,and I’m the only guy that gets a nickname ok?” he professes, his eyes looking straight into your soul. “No ‘Sannie’, no ‘Youngie’ and definitely no Joongie.” He continued while poking out his bottom lip; looking at you with puppy dog eyes, his face brightening up as he looks at you.

“Just Sangie from now on okay?”

You reply to his almost adorable wishes the best way you know-how. Leaning forward you place a small peck on his lips, smiling down at him when you pull away. “Fine,” you chuckle “, I’ll leave all of the cute nicknames for you.”

#kang yeosang #yeosang #ateez yeosang #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez au

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naturallytom · 5 years ago

Text

Great Perhaps (Peter Parker x reader)

a/n: this is by far the longest oneshot ive ever written (10,292 words babey!!) but i really love how this turned out!! i hope u enjoy!! just a few notes; 1) this is based off looking for alaska so it’ll loosely follow the premise of it but it’s not exactly the same, 2) i don’t have a taglist so any & all posts will be tagged ‘oneshot: great perhaps’!! 3) endgame never happened in this lmao

warnings: language, making out, underage drinking, mentions/descriptions of bad mental health, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions/descriptions of death, grief, sadness™

please reblog/leave feedback!!

moodboard/teaser

102 days before (8/24/19) Peter groaned, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Stacking up the last of the boxes, he sighed, grabbing the water bottle from his now empty dresser and gulping it all down. Leaving his room, he entered the kitchen where May was, making dinner for Peter’s last night home. “Hey May. Is dinner ready?” Peter asked, sweat drenching his clothes. “Not yet, go take a shower!” May grinned, knowing that’s exactly what Peter was going to ask. “Awesome, thanks May.” Peter replied, heading off to the bathroom. He tried not to think about not seeing Ned or MJ for a while, at least until Thanksgiving. MJ was going to NYU and Ned was taking a gap year to travel, but planned his travels so he’d be home for Thanksgiving to see his best friend. He felt the lukewarm water making contact with his skin, Peter sighing in relief. With the late August heat, warm showers felt like hell, but cold showers were still uncomfortable so Peter was stuck trying to compromise. It had been nearly a year since Peter got out of the soul stone. The months had been long, filled with therapy and nightmares, but he had made incredible progress and was ready to leave New York to go to a new state and get a fresh start at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He hopped out of the shower, throwing on some sweats and an old shirt, before joining May in the kitchen. “Perfect timing, dinner’s ready!” May smiled, Peter sitting down as May served him spaghetti and meatballs with a side of salad. “I bet you’re hungry, been packing all day!” May commented, a sad smile gracing her lips.

She was so proud of Peter, but she would miss him tremendously when he was at school. When Tony Stark knocked on her door to tell her Peter was gone, her world had ended. When he knocked on her door again, this time with a weak Peter, she hugged him so tightly Peter thought he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t mind it, though, he had felt so empty in the soul stone it was nice to feel contact with someone else again. Peter didn’t even have to apply to MIT, Tony knew what an extraordinary kid Peter was and when Peter said he wanted to go to Massachusetts for college, he used his connections to hook him up with a full ride when him and May were sure the nightmares had stopped, or at least weren’t happening as frequently. “Yeah. I mean you were too, but you got a break.” Peter teased, May feigning offense. “To make you dinner!” Peter chuckled, taking another bite of his favorite meal. After dinner, Peter helped May clean up. “You’re not gonna go back to your room just yet, right? Gonna stay out here for a bit?” May asked quietly, thinking of all the times in the days and weeks after Peter’s return that he shut May out, often returning to his room immediately after dinner without saying a word. As the months and therapy went on, Peter began opening up more and spending more time with May again. “Yeah.” He nodded, seeing her smile and pull out a DVD. “Anchorman.” She smiled. “Figured we could both use some comedy.” Peter grinned, seeing her pull out ice cream as well. “I got some ice cream, figured we could have a little movie night before you go.” She offered, Peter getting the ice cream scooper out. “Just like old days, yeah?” “Just like old days.” - The next morning, Peter woke up with a pit in his stomach. He was so ready to get a fresh start, but he was leaving his home. He was leaving May, Ned, MJ. “Honey? Ned is here!” May called, knocking on Peter’s door, before opening it and letting Ned in, who couldn’t get more than two feet with the boxes everywhere. “Hey man.” Peter greeted, getting out of bed. “Hey Peter, I know you’re leaving soon, but I wanted to stop by and say goodbye. Again.” He said, his voice cracking. “Aw man, it’s okay. I’ll be back before you know it!” Peter comforted his best friend, giving him a hug. “Yeah, but, I’ll miss you.” Ned whispered. “I’ll miss you too. Facetime me?” Peter asked, his voice low. “Yeah. Yeah of course. Good luck, man. Go save the world.” Ned smiled sadly, giving Peter one last hug before Peter walked him out. “Well, Peter. Today’s the day.” May sighed. “How do you feel?” “Nervous. ‘M scared to leave you. But I’m excited.” He answered honestly, chuckling when May pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you, you know that right? A-And you can always call me. Or Tony. He may get to you faster but both of us are here for you.” She rambled, the tears she had built up finally spilling over. “It’s okay, May, I know. I’ll call you a lot, I promise.” Peter comforted. May pulled away, cupping her nephew’s cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s go pack the car, okay? We have a long drive.” - After a three hour and twenty eight minute drive, May was finally pulling up to MIT. “Why don’t you go to your residence hall and check in? I’ll wait here and see if we can park here or if I have to move.” May suggested, Peter nodding in response. He hesitated before he opened the car door and heading over to his residence hall. “Hey! Welcome to MIT, what’s your name?” The student asked. “P-Peter. Peter Parker.” He answered. “You’re on the second floor. 218.” The student smiled, handing Peter his ID. “Thanks.” Peter mumbled, before going out to find May, when someone approached him. “Hey, you Peter Parker?” He asked. Peter nodded in confusion. “I’m Thomas, your roommate. I just heard you check in.” Thomas introduced, extending his hand, Peter shaking it. “Hey- have you heard about a girl? Supposedly her name’s y/n, she knows one of my friends, Oliver. I’m sure she’s nice but apparently she’s super well known.” Tom told Peter, who shook his head. “No I haven’t. Hey, Thomas-” “Call me Tom!” Tom interrupted. “Alright, Tom! I’m gonna go find my aunt, I’ll see you back here.” Peter told him, earning a nod from his roommate. Peter made his way back to May, who had already began unpacking. “Peter! You all checked in?” May asked, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “Yeah. Met my roommate too. Said something about a girl named y/n who knows his friend Oliver.” Peter relayed the information Tom told him to his aunt while helping her unpack the boxes. “Hopefully they’re nice, honey.” “Yeah, I can’t wait to meet them.” - Hours later and Peter was moved in with Tom and all of them were drenched in sweat. Tom and his parents had gone to see what the rest of the evening entailed, while May and Peter hung out in the dorm. “Alright well, you’re moved in. Anything else you need?” May asked. “Maybe we should see where the counseling center is. You know, just incase.” Peter said, May nodding. “Of course, honey. Then let’s get some food.” She said, putting her hands on her nephew’s shoulders. The pair had found the counseling center, before going to get food. They ate with minimal conversation, neither of them wanting to say the one word they had to, though May would be staying in a nearby hotel because of the long drive. Eventually, the time had come and the two had to part. “Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything? You know I’m right up the street for tonight and my phone is always on incase you need me and you have Tony’s number- Oh! Let me give you Ned’s mom’s number in case you ever want to talk to her instead and-” “May, May, I promise I’ll call. I’ll be okay, yeah?” Peter promised, placing his hands on her shoulders. She pulled him into a hug, Peter tucking his head into May’s neck, a habit he had picked up since he returned. “See you tomorrow, goodnight. Sweet dreams. I love you so much.” May whispered against his forehead before placing a kiss there. “I love you too, have a good night.” Peter responded. - Opening his dorm, he was met with his roommate on his laptop. “Hey Peter.” Tom greeted. “Hey Tom.” Peter responded, getting a bag ready to go take a shower. “Listen, when you get back, I think we should get to know each other.” Tom told him. Peter groaned internally. He didn’t feel like recalling his time in the soul stone tonight. He never did, but especially not tonight. He wanted to sleep peacefully, without nightmares brought on by those memories. “Yeah, uh, sounds good.” Peter responded, before heading to the showers. When he returned, Tom was still there, still clicking away on his computer. “So where ya from?” Tom asked him. “Queens. You?” ‘I’m from Providence. It’s in Rhode Island. What are you majoring in?” He replied. Peter put his things away, hopping onto his bed. He hoped Tom didn’t bring up the Avengers or what happened after he returned at all that night. “Brain and cognitive science with a minor in biology. How about you?” Peter responded, opening his phone to see a text from May, saying that she missed him already. Peter’s friends and family were surprised when he said he wanted to major in brain and cognitive science and minor in biology. They were sure he’d do chemistry or engineering of some sort. The other person who wasn’t surprised was Tony, but that was because Peter told him. After nearly a year of dealing with anxiety, numbness, and PTSD, Peter told Tony that he wanted to study what goes on in the human brain so he could figure out what what was wrong with him. Tony told him the symptoms he was continually experiencing were quite common, and to try not to think of it as there was something was something wrong with him, rather that he was in the process of healing and that it takes time. Peter wasn’t convinced, but accepted the explanation. “Nuclear science and engineering.” Tom told him, Peter muttering a “that’s cool” before turning his attention back to his phone to reply to May. “So you haven’t heard of her? Y/N?” Tom asked, breaking the silence. “No, why?” Peter replied, confused as to why Tom was so hung up on her. Maybe it was his ex, maybe it was his crush. Whatever the case, Peter didn’t see the big deal. “I guess we’ll find out a little later in the week. She’s friends with my friend and he said she’s cool but kinda shady.” Tom said, still typing away on his computer while Peter, though it was early, went to sleep, hoping he had a peaceful sleep. - Peter woke up at 6 am the next morning. He didn’t have any nightmares, but he didn’t sleep great. Maybe it was the feeling of anxiety he felt the entire night, maybe it was because it wasn’t his own bed from home. He grabbed some shorts and a t-shirt, heading to the bathroom to change and wash his face. Glancing in the mirror, Peter sighed. He had no sense of identity anymore, before he could say he was Spiderman, a hero, a kid genius. Now he felt as if his experience in the soul stone was his identity and it was filled with an empty hole. He splashed some water on his hair, trying to get his curls looking at least decent before leaving the bathroom. - “Okay honey. Time for me to go.” May said, holding Peter at arms length. Her voice cracked when she spoke, making tears fill up in Peter’s eyes as he nodded. “I love you. Please call. And no drugs or alcohol, please. If you’re gonna drink do it responsibly. I don’t want to get a phone call saying you’re in the hospital for drug or alcohol related accidents.” She cried, pulling her nephew in for a tight hug. Peter nodded into her shoulder. “I love you too.” He muttered, wiping his eyes. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” May said, assuring both of them. “Yeah. Have a safe trip home.” He told her, making her nod. “I’ll text you when I get home, alright?” She smiled sadly. Peter once again nodded wordlessly, giving her one last hug before he watched her get into the car and drive off. “Hey! Peter!” He heard. Wiping his eyes, he turned around to see Tom standing there with another guy and a girl. “Hey man this is my friend Oliver and the girl I told you about. This is y/n.” **Peter had never seen a girl so beautiful. She was radiant and her beauty was so effortless. Everything seemed to move in slow motion when she moved, her hair blowing gently in the late summer breeze behind her. “Hey. I’m y/n.” She introduced, holding out her hand. Peter was frozen, captivated by her before he finally placed his hand in hers, shaking it gently. “P-Peter. I’m Peter.” He stammered. She smiled and Peter swore the sun got a little brighter. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you to some friends.” She offered, Peter smiling and following her. They made their way to an empty classroom, where there was a group of people all sat in empty desks. “Geez y/n we thought you wouldn’t show up.” One of them said, Y/N rolling her eyes. “Oh be quiet you know how I am.” She replied, a smile on her face. “She’s right.” A softer voice giggled. “Peter these are my friends. Simon, Charlotte and Paige. You already know Thomas and Oliver. Everyone, this is Peter. He’s Tom’s roommate.” y/n introduced. Everyone nodded and smiled, Peter returning the gestures as they sat down. “Simon and Paige are dating and Charlotte and Oliver are dating. I’m sure Tom would’ve told you by now if he was taken.” She grinned, Tom rolling his eyes. “Hey I’m trying, okay? College is supposed to be full of cute girls.” Tom pouted. “We haven’t even started classes! We only just moved in today!” Paige pointed out. “How could you possibly be trying?” “Hey y/n why don’t you tell us your relationship status since you’re roasting Tom about his!” Oliver interrupted, his arm around Charlotte, who giggled. y/n raised her hands in surrender, a soft smile on her lips. “It’s complicated.” She answered, winking at Peter, who blushed. - Peter spent most of the day with his new group of friends, getting to know each of them and each of them getting to know Peter. They knew he was Spiderman and that he returned from the soul stone, but respected him when he said he didn’t want to talk about his return or experience in the soul stone and didn’t bring it up. The group decided to get dinner before going their separate ways to prepare for the first day of classes the next day. “So you like her? y/n?” Tom asked as him and Peter entered their room. “Hm? Yeah. Yeah she’s nice.” He replied, reaching into his pocket to get his phone to text May. To his surprise, when he opened the message app, y/n had texted him, asking him if he wanted to get lunch the next day. Peter was confused. This was sent to only him, not the group chat they had made. “I’m going to take a shower!” Tom told Peter. Peter nodded, telling him he was gonna go take a walk around campus and familiarize himself with the layout. - The summer night air felt nice against Peter’s skin. It wasn’t too hot, like it was earlier. But it wasn’t too cold, like Peter knew it would get as summer transitioned into fall. Looking up to the sky, Peter smiled when he wasn’t able to see a few constellations and stars against the navy blue with a hint of pink and yellow sky. “Peter?” A voice called. “That you?” Peter turned around, seeing y/n. “Hey.” He smiled. “Mind if I join you?” She asked, Peter shaking his head. “Not at all.” This time it was her turn to smile, her eyes sparkling under the minimal light from the building they were in front of and the moonlight. “So how do you know so many people already?” “Orientation.” She responded as the pair walked. “We all met at orientation and clicked right away.” “That’s really nice.” Peter replied honestly, y/n nodding in agreement. “So what else is there to know about you, Peter?” y/n asked. “I dunno. Not much really.” Peter shrugged. “Are you single or taken?” Peter felt his face heat up at the question. “Single. Why?” He answered, making her shrug. “‘M curious.” She told him, glancing at him. “Ever kissed anyone?” Peter shook his head. “Hm. I thought you would’ve by now, you’re cute.” She said, grinning when he blushed. “You know, it’s okay to struggle sometimes.” Peter’s eyes widened. “How did you-” “I saw you going to the counseling center with your mom.” She cut him off, making him nod. “I may go sometimes. I wanted to check it out. You were just there at the same time.” “My aunt.” She looked at him questioningly. “I was with my aunt. Both of my parents died when I was younger.” He told her, answering the question she didn’t ask but Peter knew she would ask. “My dad died when I was young. ‘S just me and my mom.” She said. “I’m sorry. It sucks.” Peter spoke, making her nod enthusiastically in agreement. “The stars look so pretty at night.” She hummed, looking at the night sky decorated with the stars. “You like space, Peter?” “Not really.” He winced. “The stars do look nice, though.” “They do.” She sighed. “I love astronomy. I think it’s so interesting and space is so beautiful.” “I’m more of a chem person.” Peter answered simply, earning a ‘valid’ in response. “Well. I better get going. Classes tomorrow.” She grunted, pulling herself off the grass, Peter following her movements. “Well, it was nice talking to you.” Peter said. “Yup. I wanna do it again sometime.” She told him, grinning when he blushed again. “Do you mind if I kiss you?” She asked, taking Peter by surprise. “What? Is-isn’t your relationship status complica-” Peter was cut off by her lips on his cheek in a kiss that was over almost as quickly as it started. “I’m a complicated girl.” She winked. “See you tomorrow!” She called as she walked back to her dorm. As Peter walked back to his, his mind was reeling with what happened. He wondered why she wanted to kiss him, even if it was only on the cheek and why her relationship status was complicated. He wondered why she said she was complicated. Peter wanted those answers but coming from his own experience, he hated when people asked about personal things he didn’t want to talk about. His mind wandered to the interest he picked up after he returned: quotes. More specifically, last words. He loved regular quotes, ones that inspired him each and every day but since he became dwelling on his own last words, his focus shifted to last words. He became replaying his last words ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over again in the soul stone, wondering if anyone besides Tony knew his last words and if they made an impact on anyone. His favorite that he found was by Richard Feynman. He said “I’d hate to die twice. It’s so boring.” Peter hoped he wouldn’t die again for a long time or lose someone close to him. For Peter, death was more than boring. Death was emptiness; it was a void that was never filled no matter how much Peter yelled, screamed or cried in the soul stone. He hoped nobody would ever feel that way. It never occurred to him that someone might be feeling that way while they were alive. 71 Days before (9/24/19) It was nearly a month into the semester and Peter was slowly but surely adjusting to college life. It had taken him a little while to get used to waking up in a place that wasn’t his apartment in New York and in the beginning, Peter found himself waking up in a panic some days because the thought of ‘what if I’m back in the soul stone?’ made its way up to the front of his head and manifested itself in his thoughts. Since it was nearly a month into the semester, midterms were coming up. Students all over campus were panicking about midterm grades and exams, as well as the occasional midterm project. Peter and his group of friends had been spending lots of time in the library, prepping for exams. Peter was most worried for his cellular and molecular neurobiology midterm. He understood the information, it was just a lot of information. Plus, he had three other exams to worry about. Despite the stress that came with midterms, Peter had enjoyed getting to know his new group of friends, particularly y/n. He still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and she intrigued him. She was closed off and reserved, yet was so open about other things. She barely had to study but got all As on her assignments. She was spontaneous, yet planned out things like getting lunch or dinner. She was an Anthropology and Humanities double major, a combination that would stress most people out to no end, but not her. Peter got lunch with her often, if he wasn’t eating with her, he was eating with Tom or the whole group was eating together. They laughed and joked around and most of the time on the weekends, they preferred to go to someone’s room, make a ton of popcorn and watch a movie rather than go to a party, though they did go to the occasional party and make fun of who was the funniest while drunk. While the weather was still nice, Peter found himself studying outside in the quad, looking over his google doc of notes and diagrams while listening to spotify-made playlist. He usually made his own, but since coming back, he found he barely had the energy or creative motivation to make new playlists. “Let me guess. Studying for cellular and molecular neurobiology.” A familiar voice interrupted the instrumental music playing softly in his headphones. Taking them off, he was greeted with y/n sitting across from him, smiling softly. He paused his music, putting his headphones away before turning to her. “How’d you know?” He chuckled. “‘S what you’re always studying for. Do you even study for your other exams?” She teased, making Peter roll his eyes, though he couldn’t ignore the way his heartbeat sped up. “Have you studied for any of your exams?” He retaliated, making her feign offense. “I have, actually! I studied a solid hour for my intro to anthropology exam!” She replied. “Wow I’m shocked.” Peter laughed. “Are you here to study or did you just want to come tell me that you studied for one exam?” “Wow, Parker. Wanna get rid of me that badly?” “F course not. If I wanted you gone so badly, I would’ve asked you leave ages ago.” He chuckled, earning another eye roll. “Listen, midterms are over on Friday for both of us.” She started, Peter nodding. “Wanna do something fun Friday night?” “Like what?” Peter asked, curious as to what she had in mind. “Dunno.” She shrugged. “Like a party or something.” “Yeah sure. Um, is everyone else going?” Peter felt his heartbeat pick up again as y/n shook her head. “Nah. Pretty sure some of them got midterms on Monday. Besides, I think we should be able to have a night to ourselves. Don’t ya think?” She asked him, eyes wide and sparkling under the fall sunlight. “Yeah. Yeah for sure.” He answered nervously. “Cool! I’ll text you on Friday to tell you the details!” She spoke enthusiastically, getting up from the table, giving Peter a wave before heading off in the direction of their res hall. - Friday was here before Peter knew it and while the thought of his exam was all he could think about at first, after he finished his exam, he felt himself getting nervous about going out with y/n. Was it a date? Did she like him? Did he like her? His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating, signaling he got a text. Checking his phone, he saw it was from y/n, telling him to swing by her dorm around 8 to head over to the party she had decided on. He replied, telling her that sounded like a good plan, before checking the time. 5:30 pm. He sighed before texting Tom to see if he wanted to get dinner. Tom replied quickly, telling Peter that sounds good and to meet him in the dining hall. Peter made his way to the dining hall, seeing Tom walking up to the entrance. “Tom!” Peter called, waving at his roommate from a few feet away. Tom paused and waited for Peter, greeting him with a pat on the shoulder. The pair headed inside, asking each other about their days and if they had any exams and if they did, how they went. The conversation was mundane until they finally sat down with their food. “So do you have any plans for tonight?” Tom asked. “Uh, yeah. y/n and I are gonna go to a party.” Peter responded, seeing Tom tense up. “Just you and her?” Tom asked, Peter nodding. “She said it’s to celebrate finals being over for us.” He replied, Tom sighing. “Is there something going on between the two of you?” Tom looked at Peter, hoping he’d tell the truth. “I dunno. Don’t think so.” Peter muttered. “Do you want there to be something between the two of you?” Peter only shrugged at this question, the two of them eating in near silence before they headed back to their room. Peter got ready fairly quickly, letting Tom know when he was planning on leaving to go get y/n. “Be careful, man.” Tom cautioned. “Yeah I will, don’t worry.” Peter responded casually. “No I mean with y/n. You don’t know her.” Tom warned, Peter mumbling a response before leaving. Peter knocked on y/n’s door, smiling when she swung open the door. “Ready to go?” She asked, Peter nodding. “Where are we going?” Peter asked, curious as to what party she had found. “Just a frat party on campus should be fun.” She replied, leading the way to the party. They arrived in a few minutes, y/n greeting the boy at the door, briefly introducing Peter before dragging him to the kitchen where the drinks were, grabbing shots glasses, pouring alcohol into one and handing it to Peter. “What is this?” Peter asked as y/n finished her first shot. “Vodka. Drink.” She instructed, taking another shot. Peter did as she told, nearly vomiting at the feeling of the alcohol running down his throat. She poured him another, and another, and another until they were both drunk enough to let loose, but not enough to blackout. Don’t Tell ‘Em played hazily in the background, Peter and y/n dancing as well as they could with the alcohol in their system. When My First Kiss came on, y/n turned around to face Peter, throwing her arms around his neck. “You’ve never been kissed before, right?” She asked, Peter shaking his head. “Perfect.” Next thing he knew, her lips were on his in a messy kiss, her hands cupping his cheeks while his made their way to her waist. Peter knew in the back of his mind that they would have too talk about this at some point, but between her lips on his and the alcohol in his veins, he couldn’t find it in himself to care and pushed the thought away to deal with it another day. 50 days before (10/15/19) It had just about been a month since Peter and y/n went to the frat party and they hadn’t talked about what had happened. Peter brought it up to her briefly, but y/n had brushed it off as being and it not meaning anything. Peter couldn’t lie, that hurt, but he tried to ignore it. That worked for a while, he was able to ignore the butterflies he got in his stomach when she was around and the way his heart beat faster when she walked in the room. But then they kissed again. And again. And again. Currently, she was sat on Peter’s lap, both of them fully engrossed in a messy kiss, her hands cupping his cheeks, his resting softly on her waist. “Hey,” He mumbled as she pulled away. “Can I ask you something?” “You just did.” She replied, her eyes still focused on his swollen lips. “What are we? What is this?” He asked, gesturing to the space between them. “We’re friends, Peter.” She muttered. “Friends don’t kiss. At least not the way we do.” He replied. “Fuck, Peter. We’re just fucking friends.” y/n groaned, climbing off his lap. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. If you wanna be just friends, we can be just friends.” Peter soothed, as much as it hurt him. “Good. We’re just friends.” She grumbled, turning away from the door. Peter sat down on his bed, allowing her to climb right back onto his lap, Peter brushing some of her hair out of her face. “You’re really pretty.” He sighed, earning an eye roll from her. “Shut up and kiss me.” She mumbled, pressing her lips to his. Their kiss was interrupted when Tom walked in, immediately groaning and covering his eyes. “Jesus can you two get a room?” He grumbled, putting his stuff. “Technically, we did.” y/n giggled, making Peter smile and Tom roll his eyes before y/n turned back to Peter. “I better get going.” She climbed off his lap once again, this time Peter following her, watching as she put her shoes on, before giving Peter one last kiss and leaving. “Sure there’s nothing going on between you two?” Tom asked, sitting down at his desk and taking out his computer. “Nope. She says we’re just friends.” Peter insisted, taking out some homework to work on. “Well what do you say?” Peter shifted uncomfortably under his roommate’s gaze. “I say…whatever she wants to be, that’s what we’ll be.” Peter responded. “I’m telling you, man. You gotta be careful. She’s playing you.” Tom warned. “I’ve talked to Paige and Simon and they said that y/n told them she’s been hooking up with some frat boy on campus.” Peter felt his heart clench at the revelation, but didn’t say anything, rather, put some music on and focused on his homework, even though it was Saturday and he’d much rather be reading a book or playing video games. The next day, Peter went to y/n’s room, where rather than make out, y/n just wanted to talk. “What d’you want to talk about?” Peter asked nervously, y/n shrugging as she let him into her room. “Anything and everything.” She replied, laying down on her bed, motioning for Peter to join her. “What’s something no one knows about you?” Peter thought for a minute before responding. “I, uh, kind of got interested in last words and quotes about death after I came back.” “Why?” y/n asked, looking up at Peter. “I don’t know. I guess I had just had so much time to reflect on mine before I came back, I just wanted to know what other people had to say.” “That’s fair.” She replied. “What was it like?” “What was what like?” Peter answered nervously, knowing she meant being in the soul stone, but wanting to hear her say it. “Being in the soul stone.” She told him, making the knot in Peter’s stomach grow tighter. “Um,” He sighed. “It was really dark. And empty. And cold. No matter how much I yelled or screamed, no one heard me.” “Do you think that’s what it’s like when we die?” She asked, looking up at her ceiling. “Yeah. I think that’s exactly what it’s like when we die.” Peter told her honestly. “Wow.” She sighed. “Yeah. Wow.” Peter felt her move to lay down on his chest. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” “Nope. I was planning on staying here. That’s far away, though.” She replied. “Really? Not going home?” He asked, surprised. “Nah. Going home is hell for me. I’d be going home to a loveless house.” “You could come to my apartment.” Peter offered, making her look up at him yet again, this time her eyes full of surprise and hope. “Really?” “Yeah I could ask my aunt. ‘M sure she wouldn’t mind, though. Especially given your circumstances.” He assured her. “Wow, uh, yeah, sure Peter! I’d love that.” y/n grinned, cuddling back into his chest. The two of them laid in silence for a little bit before Peter decided to confront y/n with what Tom had told him the day before. “Hey y/n?” He asked. When he got no reply, he looked down to find the girl fast asleep on his chest. He smiled, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, deciding that asking her about who she was hooking up with could wait for another day. - It wasn’t until Wednesday of the next week that Peter could ask y/n about what Tom had told him. “Hey y/n? Can I talk to you about something?” He asked, sitting next to her on a picnic table outside in between classes. “Sure. What’s up?” She replied, looking up from her anthropology book. “Uh, someone told me that you were hooking up with a frat boy on campus. Is, um, that true?” He scratched the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous. “Yup.” She replied. “So what am I?” Peter couldn’t help himself asking. “What are you? Peter you’re my friend. We’ve been over this.” She groaned. “y/n you’re just using me.” Peter snapped. “Yeah, and? I don’t date, Peter. You should know this by now.” y/n replied, both of them getting frustrated. “Okay so you don’t date. But you’re leading me on and hooking up with other guys in your free time!” “Not my fault you fell for me, Peter. And if you seriously can’t deal with me simply making out with you and nothing else, maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.” She spoke harshly. “I’m not gonna keep hurting myself to please you.” Peter mumbled softly after a moment of silence.

“Okay. Bye, then.” She waved him off, turning back to whatever she was doing, while Peter walked away, unsure of how this would affect everyone else in their friend group.

20 days before (11/14/19) Barely a month had passed since the fight between Peter and y/n. Tom, Paige, and Simon supported Peter and his argument while Charlotte and Oliver favored y/n’s side. The group all hung out together, but there was an unspoken tension in the air that was splitting them apart. Thanksgiving was coming up, but with Thanksgiving, came finals soon after. All the students kept this in the back of their minds, but still looked forward to their few days off. Peter had texted May briefly, but hadn’t called her in a while or told her what really happened between him and y/n. He was in the middle of doing homework when he felt his phone vibrating, prompting him to pick up and check, seeing an incoming call from May. “Hello?” He answered. “Hey honey! How are you?” May asked cheerily. “‘M okay, just doing homework.” Peter responded. “Yeah? How are your classes going?” May’s voice softened when she heard her nephew’s soft voice. “Good. They’re good.” He told her, almost sensing the frown on the other side of the phone. “And you, Peter? How are you doing?” May asked again. “‘M doing okay.” He told her, hearing her sigh. “Peter, sweetheart, you can be honest with me.” May told him. “Are you going to the counseling center?” “No, I don’t need to. ‘M not having nightmares.” Peter replied honestly. “Well that’s great honey, but you don’t sound like you’re doing alright mentally.” May pointed out, Peter sighing. “It’s a long story, May.” He nearly whispered. “I got into a fight with one of my friends.” “Aw sweetie I’m sorry. You wanna talk about it?” She asked sympathetically. Peter shook his head, forgetting that May couldn’t see him. “No, ‘s okay. I’ll tell you about it over Thanksgiving.” He responded, “Okay honey. I can’t wait to see you again.” She smiled. “Can’t wait to see you too, May. ‘M excited to come home.” He breathed. As much as he loved college, he was getting homesick. “Good. I’m glad. I miss you, Peter.” May told him. “Miss you too, May.” Peter sighed. “I’ll let you get back to your homework now. Love you, Peter.” May smiled. “Love you too, May. See you soon.” Peter said, hanging up and putting his phone down. He did a couple more problems before he was interrupted by Tom coming into the room. “Hey man.” Tom greeted, taking out one of his earphones. “How were your classes today?” “I mean they were good but I’m so tired. I could fall asleep right now.” Peter chuckled. “Oh same. I just wanna sleep.” Tom replied. “Early night tonight?” “If I can finish these problems.” Peter laughed. “Did you wanna get dinner tonight?” Tom nodded. “Wanna go soon?” Peter felt his stomach growl. “Yeah. For sure.” “Cool. I think I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can go?” Tom suggested. “Sounds good.” Peter told his roommate, who gathered his stuff before heading to the bathroom. Peter watched as Tom walked out before turning his attention back to his homework, trying to concentrate. His mind however, filled with thoughts of y/n. Even though they had fought and even though she hurt him, he still couldn’t stop thinking of her. To Peter, y/n was the prettiest girl he had ever met. The thoughts of her were still enough to give him butterflies and make his heart beat a little faster. He wished they hadn’t fought. He wished he could still be with her but as her boyfriend. His thoughts were interrupted by Tom coming in, towel drying his hair as soon as the door closed. “Ready to go?” Tom asked Peter, who nodded. “Yeah.” He responded quietly, making Tom look at him with concern. “You okay, man?” Tom checked, Peter nodding slowly. “Yeah. ‘M fine.” He muttered. Tom didn’t think Peter was fine, but he dropped it. If there was one thing he learned about Peter since meeting him, it was that Peter would open up if and when he was ready, but not to pry.

7 days before (11/28/2019) “I think you should talk to her.” May told her nephew at Thanksgiving dinner. Just like previous years, it was just the two of them enjoying a meal they made together. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?” Peter asked quietly, taking a bite of turkey. “Sweetheart it’s thanksgiving. Didn’t you say she wasn’t going home for the holiday? She’s probably all by herself at school. Give her a call.” May responded. Peter sighed, knowing she was right. He smiled softly, letting his aunt know he would call y/n when dinner was over. The two finished their meal with Peter telling May all about school and how classes were going and which finals he was most worried about. When they were done, May excused Peter to give y/n a call rather than help her with dishes like she usually insisted he do. “Are you sure?” He asked, May smiling and nodding in response. “It’s getting late, go call her before it gets too late.” May instructed. Peter thanked her and told her he’d be back to help her after he got off the phone. As he made his way to his room, Peter felt the pit in his stomach grow. What would he say? What would she say? He took a seat on his bed, took a deep breath, and pulled out his phone, glancing through the text messages from Mj and Ned who were both asking when they’d see him again. He made a mental note to reply to them afterwards. Dialing her number, he shakily brought the phone to his ear while it rang. The more the phone rang, the more nervous Peter got. The phone rang and rang and rang and eventually Peter thought she wouldn’t pick up until- “Hello?” “y/n?” Peter asked, shocked she picked up. “Peter.” She responded simply. “Um, Happy Thanksgiving.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Happy Thanksgiving. You at home?” She asked, Peter nodding even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I am. Where are you?” He asked, this time she shrugged on the other side of the phone, even though he couldn’t see her. “At school.” She told him. A silence took over the pair before Peter broke it. “Hey y/n?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Yeah Peter?” “‘M sorry about the fight.” He mumbled. “Me too, Peter. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She said softly. “‘S okay. I miss you.” Peter smiled sadly. “Miss you too. You coming back on Sunday?” She asked. “Yeah. Looking forward to finals.” Peter chuckled. “Shut up. Don’t remind me.” She laughed. “Wanna hang out when you get back?” “Of course.” Peter answered. “Awesome. See ya then.” She grinned. “See you then. Nice talking to you, y/n. Hope you had a nice holiday.” “You too, Peter.” And with that, they hung up, both of them relieved. Peter texted Mj and Ned back before heading back to the kitchen where May was setting up dessert. “Hey honey! How was it?” May smiled. “Good. Really good. We’re okay.” Peter answered, smiling. “Good. I’m glad.” May grinned. “Me too, May.” 1 day before (12/3/2019) y/n was in Peter and Tom’s room. The three of them were hanging out and y/n had a little too much to drink. Both boys knew she kept alcohol in her room and knew she must’ve been drinking before she sloppily knocked on their door.

It was entertaining, though. She was rambling and telling funny stories, Peter thought she was adorable. “I can’t believe finals are soon.” She gasped suddenly, sitting up on Peter’s bed. “Came up fast, didn’t they?” Peter chuckled. “So fast. Like…like a race car on a racetrack.” She mumbled, eyes wide. “Oh my god..I’m in college!” “Pretty sure you have been for the past three months.” Tom chuckled. “Well yeah but I didn’t ever think I’d make it to college.” She responded. “Thought I’d be dead by now. Surprised I held on for so long.” Peter and Tom went silent. They knew exactly what she meant, though it was a shock to them. She was so happy and energetic, seemed like the happiest girl in the world. Neither of them suspected she was anything but happy most of the time. “Wanted to die for so fucking long.” She mumbled softly. “‘M doing better, though. I feel better.” “That’s good, y/n. Really good.” Peter told her honestly. “Won’t feel good in a few hours though.” She muttered, taking a sip of vodka from a half empty mini bottle. “Will feel sick.” “Uhh where’d you get that?” Tom asked, confusion taking over both him and Peter’s faces. “This?” She responded, holding up the mini bottle of alcohol. “Brought it over here. Want some?” Tom shook his head. “Peter?” She offered. Peter shook his head. “Well,” She shrugged. “More for me.” She continued drinking until the bottle was empty. “Peter.” She spoke, sloppily moving over to Peter, who was sitting on the floor. “Yeah y/n?” He replied. “I like you. A lot.” She giggled, resting her head on his chest. “I like you too.” He smiled. “No! No like…I like you. In a more than a friend way.” She giggled again. Peter froze, not knowing what to say or how to react. “Oh shit.” Tom mumbled. “I really do.” “y/n you’re drunk..” Peter’s voice trailed off. “Drunk words are sober thoughts, Peter.” She said softly, laying on his chest a little longer before sitting up. “I’m gonna go back to my room.” “Are you in the right condition to walk back on your own?” Peter asked. “It’s only a few doors down, Peter. I’ll be fine.” She laughed. “You sure?” Tom asked, earning a nod from y/n, who got up, stumbling slightly. “Peter, we will continue this later.” She declared, giggling before leaving their room. Peter and Tom chuckled, before getting ready for bed. Peter picked up the now empty mini vodka bottle, threw it away, turned off the lights and him and Tom went to sleep without a second thought.

After

Peter and Tom woke up the next morning to one of their RAs knocking on the door, announcing a hall meeting. They stepped out, choosing to simply sit in front of their doors, as most of the other sleepy students had chosen to do. “Okay guys,” one of the RAs said, their voice shaky. “Looks like everyone’s here so we’re gonna get started.” Peter glanced to his left, across from him, and to his right, but there was someone missing. y/n. “Wait!” Peter blurted out before he knew what he was doing. “y/n’s not here. should we wait for her?” The RAs glanced at each other, debating what to tell Peter. “Please?” Peter whimpered out. “Can we please just wait for her?” “We don’t usually announce things like this, especially not in this manner but since she lived on this floor, we thought this might be more appropriate. Last night y/n y/l/n was killed. She was walking around Cambridge when she was hit by a car. The driver wasn’t paying attention to the road and ran a red light. They hit her going full speed.” One of the RAs finally told the students, who gasped. “If any of you need any grieving resources, we’re here, but the school will also bring on grief counselors for anyone who needs them. There will also be an email sent out later today.” Peter didn’t hear the last bit. It felt as if he got the wind knocked out of him- the hall was spinning and he felt sick to his stomach. Tom sat there in shock, his hazel eyes filling with hot tears. “They’re lying.” Peter whimpered. “They have to be lying, Tom! We saw her last night- She can’t be dead! She went back to her room!” “I don’t think they’re lying, Peter.” Tom mumbled, hot tears spilling from his eyes. He didn’t bother wiping them away. “I don’t think she went back to her room last night.” “W-What if she’s okay, though? Maybe she’s just in the hospital or maybe…she died on impact.” Peter finished softly as reality began to set in. “She’s dead.” Tom nodded, bringing his roommate in for a tight hug in the middle of the hallway while all the other students went back to their rooms to process their emotions. “Peter? Tom?” One of their RAs approached them. “Do you guys need anything?” It was clear that they weren’t okay, but how could anyone be okay after getting news that their friend died? Peter and Tom both shook their heads. “Thanks though.” Tom told the RA who smiled sadly, giving them each a pat on the back, letting them know that they were there for them if they needed anything before they all went back to their dorms. Peter felt numb. There was no other way to describe it. He physically felt the tears falling down his cheek and the sunlight coming in through the window of his dorm, but emotionally he felt numb, as if someone froze his emotions. Tom and Peter sat on the floor of their room in silence that was broken by the occasional sniffle. Both of them sat still, allowing the tears to just run down their cheeks.

“We have classes today.” Peter spoke quietly, standing up slowly. “Should get ready.”

“Guess so.” Tom replied, both of them starting to get ready for the day. Unlike other mornings, the boys were silent as they got ready. There was no music that played, nor was there conversation between the two of them. They just got ready, grabbed their stuff, and went off to classes or to breakfast without a word. The rest of the day went by in a blur. Peter went from class to class in a daze, his body physically doing the actions of walking from building to building to his various classrooms, taking down notes and information he’d need to know for finals next week, but his mind was somewhere else. In his mind, y/n was alive. She was alive and thriving, making jokes and rambling about the stars and her favorite constellations. And that’s where Peter wanted his mind to be. He didn’t want it to be focused in reality and he didn’t want it going back to when he was on Titan, so his mind opted to be somewhere where y/n was happy and alive. It was a sunny day. It was sunny but that didn’t make sense to Peter because even though y/n was alive in his mind, he still saw people crying and he still heard people talking about it walking around campus. It didn’t feel like a sunny day because y/n wasn’t here with them on campus. It felt like it should be cloudy and rainy even though it was December and people would much rather prefer snow. May called him later that same evening, after she knew all his classes were done. She wanted to check up on Peter- she got the email from the school about what happened. “‘M okay, May. Really.” He told her. “Are you sure Peter? I know you guys were friends-” “Yeah. Yeah I’m sure. I have finals to worry about.” He assured his aunt, who didn’t believe for a minute that he was okay. And worry about finals is exactly what Peter did. Over the following week, he buried himself in his work, only taking a break to eat or to get a few hours of sleep.

He seemed to be doing pretty okay on the outside. He saw his friends, he was eating and sleeping, and he felt pretty good about his finals (which, as a college student, is a rare occurrence so feeling good about finals is a different level of feeling good).

Anyone who knew Peter, knew differently. He saw his friends- Simon, Oliver, Paige, and Charlotte, occasionally and only for a short amount of time. He was isolating and distancing himself from his friends, including Tom. They had all picked up on it. And Peter knew that on the inside, he wasn’t doing well. When he took food breaks, he ate very little. Nights were the worst. He could no longer look at the stars, they were just a reminder of y/n and she wasn’t there anymore to tell Peter if another planet was visible or if you could see the big dipper and outline it for him. He could barely sleep at night, the thoughts and nightmares keeping him up. In his nightmares he was back in the soul stone. Surrounded by darkness, completely alone. But then there was y/n, crossing a street. No matter how much he yelled and screamed, Peter would only be able to watch as a car collided with her body. So he did what he could. He went into denial, not allowing his feelings to surface and distracted himself with whatever he could. He attended the memorial service for y/n with his group of friends. As soon as it was over, he went right back to studying for his finals while his friends went to hang out and spend time with each other. Finals came and went, and soon it was time for Peter to go home. May picked him up, greeting him with a big hug and asking how finals went, followed by how he was doing. Both questions were answered with a simple, one word answer; good. May didn’t believe Peter. She noticed it pretty quickly- he was just like he was when he came back from the soul stone. Withdrawn and in denial. The pair enjoyed their holiday season and for a brief period of time, it looked like Peter genuinely was doing okay. That ended pretty quickly. Peter soon went back to spending time alone, cooped up in his room, shutting May out. It was New Year’s Eve when May called Tony. She told him what was going on with Peter, how he was exactly like he was upon return from the soul stone. Tony was worried about the kid. Grief and guilt are not easy to deal with, Tony knew that better than anyone so he told May he’d be there as soon as possible. It was 2 pm on New Year’s Eve when Tony knocked on Peter’s bedroom door. May went out to get Peter’s favorite foods for later. “May, I’m fine I told you-” “It’s not May, kid.” Tony replied. There was a pause and some shuffling before Peter opened the door, shock written on his face. “Mr. Stark? How did you-” “Your aunt called me. You wanna come out here or should I go in there?” Tony asked, glancing at the mess that was Peter’s room.

Peter wordlessly stepped out of his room, him and Tony taking a seat on the couch. Peter was, in simple terms, a mess. His eyes were red and puffy, his curls were wild and untamed, it was obvious the kid wasn’t doing well at all.

“Why’re you here? Not that I don’t want to see you but May didn’t tell me you were stopping by.” Peter spoke, his voice hoarse.

“She’s worried about you-” Tony started.

“I’m fine.” “Yeah your current physical state and the state of your room really reflect that.” Tony replied sarcastically. “What’s going on, kid?” Peter paused for a moment, his eyes drifting down to his lap. “It was my fault.” He finally whispered, hot tears filling his eyes. “What was your fault?” Tony asked. “y/n’s death. She’s my friend.” Peter answered. “Er, was my friend.” “May told me about what happened. How was it your fault, Peter?” “I didn’t stop her. I didn’t walk her back to her room and make sure she was settled in. I didn’t tell her that she was too drunk to walk anywhere by herself. She said she was fine and I just believed her!” Peter muttered. “I should’ve done something. Maybe she’d be alive if I did.” “Peter, listen to me.” Tony told Peter, who had tears falling down his cheeks. “This was not your fault. You didn’t know she was going to go out after that, you believed her because she didn’t give you a reason not to. You can’t blame yourself for that. Trust me, I know what you’re feeling right now.” “No offense, Mr. Stark, but I don’t think you know anything about what I’m feeling.” Peter mumbled, a silence coming over the two of them. “Remember Titan?” Tony asked quietly, Peter closing his eyes and nodding. “When Thanos snapped?” Another nod from Peter. “Do you blame me for what happened to you?” Tony asked Peter, who shook his head furiously. “No! No absolutely not Mr. Stark! You couldn’t have known I’d be one of the ones who’d get dusted.” Peter assured Tony. “I blamed myself for so long.” Tony whispered, tears now filling his eyes. “But Mr. Stark it wasn’t your fault.” Peter told him. “I should’ve made sure you got sent home, I never should’ve let you on the spaceship. I should’ve done more to stop Thanos. I should’ve done more to save you.” Tony said. “Mr. Stark-” “Eventually I got to the point where I couldn’t live with the hypotheticals and being so totally consumed with the past.” Tony explained. “I had to move forward and accept that I did all I could.” “How long did that take?” Peter asked quietly. “Time, kid. It took time for me and it’ll take time for you. It doesn’t happen over night.” Tony smiled sadly. “Were you angry? Because..I’m really really angry.” Peter said, his voice still quiet. “What are you angry about?” Peter let out a breath before answering. “I’m angry at y/n for walking around Cambridge drunk. I-I know that’s not fair but if she just stayed in her room than maybe she’d still be here. I’m angry at the driver who ran the red light and hit her. I’m angry at the universe for taking her away.” Peter spoke, his voice getting louder until he paused and took a breath, allowing some tears to fall. “God, Mr. Stark! It’s not fair! I was happy! I was doing really well! And..and then all of a sudden she was gone! Is it me? Do I not deserve to be happy?” Tony pulled Peter into a hug, his body shaking with sobs. “That’s it, kid. Let it all out.” Tony soothed. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Peter cried until he thought he’d run out of tears and then more would come. Eventually, Peter pulled away from the hug, wiping his eyes. “Sorry.” He mumbled, Tony shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry, kid. This is normal.” Tony assured him. “And, uh, you deserve to be happy. Sometimes these things happen and most times, the timing sucks. It doesn’t mean that you’re being punished for anything or that you don’t deserve to be happy.” “Sure feels like it.” Peter muttered. “I know it does.” Tony paused. “Have you put on your suit?” Peter knew what he was referring to. The suit Tony made for him that Peter got in Berlin. Peter shook his head. “No. Don’t feel like a hero right now.” He told Tony. “I know you don’t. You don’t have to put it on right now.” Tony assured him. “Do..do you think I could ever be able to put the suit on?” Peter asked hesitantly. He was scared for the answer. “I do.” Tony answered confidently. “It may take some time, and that’s okay.” “How much time does this…process take?” Peter asked, earning a shrug from Tony. “It depends, kid. It comes in waves.” Tony answered honestly. Peter nodded. “Guess I should clean up my room.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Take a shower first. You need to take care of yourself first.” Tony smiled, Peter nodding. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He said sincerely, going to take a shower. Tony texted May and updated her before going to Peter’s room and cleaning up what he could, at least enough for Peter to walk in it again. When Peter came out from the shower, dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Tony could see he looked much better, even if his little curls were flopping onto his forehead. May came home as well, bags of Peter’s favorite foods and a couple movies. She gave Peter a hug, rubbing his back softly, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Tony. Tony gave Peter another hug before he left, telling Peter to call him or stop by whenever. Peter spent the rest of that night with May, eating ice cream and watching the ball drop at midnight. Over the course of his winter break, Peter started reaching out to friends more. He reached out to his college friends, the group of them deciding to go out for dinner at y/n’s favorite restaurant when they’re all back and settled at school. He reached out to Mj and Ned, the three of them reuniting. Tony was right. The grieving did come in waves. There would be days where Peter felt great and genuinely happy and days where he was sad and down and just needed to have a good cry. The nights became easier. Peter found that the nightmares were going away and if he did have one, he was able to fall back asleep. Little by little, he worked his way up to putting on the familiar blue and red suit, then to swinging around Queens again, until eventually, he found himself sitting on the rooftop of an apartment building, staring up at the stars. y/n was right. The stars were beautiful. He easily found her favorite constellation (the big dipper), a nearby star shining exceptionally bright. He knew that was her. Even though she wasn’t able to shine down on earth, Peter knew she was among the stars, shining down on him and their friends, a beautiful sign that maybe things would eventually be okay.

_______________________________________________________________________

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x female!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker au #college!peter parker #college!au

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pi-cat000 · 6 years ago

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MSA time travel idea (part 18)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV

Part 19: here

Just breath! Why is that so hard? Arthur tries to block out Lewis’s looming form, the busy hotel room, and his regret at not being able to hold himself together for one day. There’s definitely going to be questions now! The patterns on the Persian rug running beneath him stretch out, elongating, tunnelling away. His chest is tight. Really tight.

“What’s going on?”

Vivi’s alarmed question draws his attention. She’s sitting up in bed, alert, partway to standing, both confused and startled. Mystery is jumping off the bed, coming towards him.

“I don’t know!” Lewis is responding, voice cracking in distress, “He flipped out when I touched him. I think it’s a panic attack.”

“What?!” Is Vivi’s high pitched response.

Lewis turns towards him, taking a small step closer, “Arthur? Are you okay?”

Too close!

“Stop,” Arthur snaps, holding out a hand and Lewis freezes again. The hand that’s not pointed at Lewis clutches at the shirt around his chest like it'll help loosen the knot cutting off his air. If everything could just stop for two seconds, then maybe he’d have a chance at pulling himself together.

Swiftly, he doesn’t even register her move, Vivi kneels before him. She’s an arm’s length away, in line with Lewis, hovering cautiously.

“Arthur?” She starts then hesitates. Arthur stares at Vivi, and he’s momentarily transported back to when it was just her, him and Mystery, scouring the country for a friend they’d probably never find. No Lewis. No motel room. Just them and long stretches of empty highway.

“You’re panicking, but, ah, you’re okay. This is going to pass all you need to do is breath. Uh," Vivi falters, unsure, “We’re in the hotel room near Oak Ridge remember.”

“Those nightmares you get? You always say this name, ugh, I can’t remember it now. But it always seems important. What was it?” Vivi would sometimes ask. Then he’d lie and say it was nothing.

“Lewis back up a bit. He needs more space,” Current, present Vivi, waves Lewis back a few steps. Mystery also retreats. His, Future-Vivi, was a whole lot better at the whole ‘comforting thing’ but the small comparison is settling his nerves. The air is back, he can finally breathe, and his vision is clearing. With renewed clarity comes a sinking sense of worry. He’s only had two bad panic attacks in this time line-not including the ones he’s had since travelling back in time-, both of them occurred several years ago after hearing distressing news. Vivi was only there for one of them, but it freaked her out enough that she’s not going to just let this go. Not when it’s the most recent in a long line of odd behaviours.

“What happened?” Vivi is asking Lewis. She inches forward enough to take Arthur’s outstretched hand, gently pushing it down while rubbing calming circles on his upper arm. The motel room descends into an uneasy quiet while Lewis thinks over his response.

“I don’t know,” Lewis sounds torn, almost frustrated, “I woke up and saw him by the door. I thought something was wrong, so I said his name and touched his shoulder.”

“It’s nothing. You just scared me,” Arthur’s voice cracks slightly, “It was just the shock. Wasn’t expecting it.”

Both Vivi and Lewis stare in disbelieving silence.

“That wasn’t nothing,” Surprisingly, Lewis is the first to call him out on his blatant lie, “that wasn’t just a small shock…you were terrified!”

“I’m fine,” Arthur grits his teeth, forcing himself to actuality meet Lewis’s gaze. It’s a mix of confused, hurt and frustrated.

“No. You’re not fine,” Lewis snaps, “What part of that was fine. This is about more than being distracted by a new project or a fear of supernatural things, which you’ve never mentioned before this week.”

“It’s me, isn’t it? I’ve done something wrong. You’re mad at me.”

“No. I’m not. I…” He starts trying to deny the accusations them stops because his brain is still badly jumbled and not giving him anything to say in his defence. The opportunity to deny passes. His failure to respond is damning.

“You can barely stay in a room with me,” Lewis continues, sounding just about as devastated as Arthur now feels, “We haven’t had a proper conversation in almost two weeks. You’re my best friend!”

“Lewis,” Vivi stands abruptly, putting a hand on Lewis’s chest, “You need to back up and take a moment. We can talk about this later.”

“I’m not mad! That’s not it.” Arthur talks desperately over Vivi, struggling to his feet, still pressed back against the door. If he could sink into the wood, he would.

“You hate me!” Lewis is almost yelling, “What did I do wrong!?”

“No. I would never… I,” Arthur tries to dispute the claim, but Lewis takes a deliberate step forward, and Arthur flinches before he can stop himself. Lewis’s expression turns to one of absolute desolation like he’s just confirmed one of his worse fears.

“Lewis,” Vivi snaps, shoving Lewis. The taller man stumbles back, appearing stunned and a little guilty. Arthur opens his mouth continue arguing but Vivi holds out a hand, silencing him.

“No.” She declares, slightly strained, “We’re all going to take deep breaths, stop throwing around accusations,” A frown at Lewis, “and have a calm discussion.”

Silence follows her order. Arthur shuffles uncomfortably and Lewis roles his shoulders, stepping away and letting out a deliberately long exhale. Vivi sighs and lowers her arms, turning to Arthur.

“Arthur…I…are you okay?” She sounds confused, and Arthur feels increasing levels terrible.

“Yeah, …sort of,” He hesitates, lifts his left hand and runs it through his hair in agitation, adding, “not really?”

She nodes, “What do you need?”

“I just need…” to time travel back to half an hour ago and fix all of this, “a few seconds of fresh air. Alone.” He needs time to think and process. He can’t do that with Lewis right there, believing Arthur hated him.

“A swear I’ll answer any questions after. I just need a few seconds.” His hand grasps for the door handle and the brief relief it offered. Vivi watches like she wants to ask more questions, reaching and making an aborted attempt at taking his hand in a show of comfort.

“Okay. Take your time…but, Arthur, please, this isn’t…. I’m really worried. We both care about you, we realy do,” A long pause. Vivi’s upset. He’s upset Vivi. Arthur just nods curtly, reversing out the door. The last thing he sees is Vivi turning back to slumped Lewis, hands on her hips like she’s about to deliver a lecture.

Outside, Arthur takes a shaky breath, studying the two additional cars in the motel lot with vacant eyes. The sun has risen higher in the sky but its warmth is a false comfort. What the hell is he supposed to do now? What can he possibly say to explain this?

Lewis thinks Arthur hates him. How does he tell this Lewis that it isn’t him he has a problem with but his future dead counterpart who’d decided to violently murder him? How is that better? Both of Arthur’s hands are now gripping at strands of hair, pulling in agitation. Would they even believe him is he did? Lewis had seemed so hurt, so sure of his conclusion. What would he think of Arthur if he came in with a story about time travel, ghosts, giant foxes and mysterious caves? It was entirely unbelievable.

Maybe, if Mystery backed him up…

Arthur rubs his eyes with a shaky hand. If he told them the truth, and they believed him, then they’d know that Lewis had died. That the reason he’s been avoiding Lewis was because the other man had killed him. Why did you do it Lewis?

Arthur still doesn’t know why. No one knew, or would ever know, why. He’s scared, terrified that that information, information about a future which never happened, would drag everyone down into his misery.

Vibrations from the phone in his pant pocket catch attention, offering a welcome distraction from his turbulent thoughts. Arthur reaches to answer it. It’s Darrel, his uncle’s workshop assistant, and Arthur frowns at the user ID. They weren’t practically close, and he can’t think of a good reason for him to be calling. He notes that he’s also missed three other calls, two more from Darrel and one from an unknown number.

Arthur hits accept, greeting in a tired voice, “Hey Darrel. What’s up.”

“Arthur! Finally. I thought you might be out of range. Thank god you aren’t. I’ve got some bad news for you dude so you might want to sit down.”

“Bad news?” Arthur’s stomach sinks.

Darrel continues, stressed and frazzled, “It’s Lance, man. He was attacked! I found him this morning, the police were here and everything. He’s on his way to St Peter’s Hospital in an ambulance. Dude, I know you’re on a road trip, but you might want to come back cause he was pretty bad…”

“Wait. Wait.” Arthur interrupts Darrel’s panicky sentences, “Attacked? What do you mean he’s on his way to the hospital?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man. He’s in bad shape. I arrived at work, on time like always, and he was bleeding out all over the floor. Of course, I called an ambulance straight away, who wouldn’t, but I don’t know dude it looked really serious…”

Darrel’s rambling washes over him, sounding from further and further away until the other’s voice is muffled in the distance. This isn’t right. This hadn’t happened in his original timeline. Did he do this? Arthur’s thoughts spin like a pinwheel, searching in vain for a connection. Beside him, the door, separating him from Lewis and Vivi, looms. His gaze slides over its wooden surface. Vivi and Lewis are waiting. They’re waiting for the truth.

“Arthur,”

The sound of his name snaps his focus back to Darrel.

“Ye...Yeah?”

“You okay there man, you went quiet for a second,”

“Yeah. I’m…I’m fine. This is fine,” Arthur moves towards his van, hesitating to look at the motel room again.

Darrel is quiet, “If you say so. Look, I’ll be turning off the highway soon, so I’m going to have to hang up, but I’ll give you a call as soon as I know more.”

“Thanks, yeah, that sounds good.” Arthur reaches the van, “I’ll start driving back now so I should be there in about eight hours.”

“Sure dude. Let me know when you're close. Okay?”

“I will. See you soon…” Arthur mutters.

The phone goes dead, and Arthur stares at its darkened screen. His other hand rests on the van door, frozen in indecision. He can’t just leave Lewis and Vivi here. Not without telling them something. Arthur turns stiffly, eye’s moving past the motel rooms to land on the box-shaped reception block. Unsteadily, he hurries over, getting blasted with chilled air-conditioning when he opens the sliding door.

He is greeted by the same disinterested women from the previous night. She’s reading and doesn’t acknowledge his entrance.

“Um, excuse me,”

“What do you want?” The board woman responds without looking up.

“Can I borrow a pen and paper,” He points distractedly at the stack on the edge of her desk.

“Whatever.”

Arthur quickly pens a message, hoping Vivi and Lewis don’t hate him for doing this.

“Ah,” He glances at the woman, “are there any buses which stop in this town?”

“The Interstate Line stops here and in most towns between here and the border. They come through early, 6am, every day.”

“Thanks,” Arthur mumbles. Vivi and Lewis would have a way to get home then. They would just have to wait until tomorrow.

He hesitates again before leaving, “If the people in room 11 come to check out can you give them this message?”

Finally, the lady looks up, squinting at the piece of paper, levelling an annoyed glare at Arthur, “Leave it there. If they come in, I’ll tell’em you wrote it,”

Arthur waverers in guilty indecision, carefully folding the paper and placing it at the edge of the desk. The woman returns to reading. One final second of guilt and Arthur hurries out of the reception and back to his van.

This isn’t running away…he’ll tell them the truth once he knows his Uncle is okay. Maybe, they’ll hate him, but they’re sure to be better off without him around anyway so perhaps it doesn’t matter.

He’s back on the highway, heading in the direction of home before he can think to change his mind.

Note: Arthur digs himself a hole of bad decisions. Vivi and Lewis worry.

Part 19: here

#msa #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #Lewis pepper #vivi #arthur kingsmen #time travel #angst #trying to change the future while not telling anyone is always a good idea

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writingstyle101 · 6 years ago

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When We Are Loved - Ponyboy Curtis x Reader Chapter 3: We’re Pretty Unique Boys.

Question: Would you guys rather have me posting more request or working more on chapters to my ongoing series?

chapter 2

“I’m not sure why I never really enjoyed Austen, just never did.” Ponyboy shrugged his shoulders.

“Is he not a good writer or somethin?” You looked over to him. You both were walking down an old gravel road towards the abandoned park not too far from your school. You weren’t sure why people didn’t hang around there, considering the town you were in it was in pretty good shape. People around here were weird in that way, everyone knew where they belonged and who they belonged with. That wasn’t something you just went and messed with, if you did you were just doing it to look for a fight.

“She.” He chuckled looking up at you from the ground.

You scrunched your forehead and looked up at him “She?”.

“Jane Austen. She’s a woman.” The side of his lips rose in a playful smirk. He has really nice lips.

“Wow.” You gave a sad chuckle, kicking a stray pebble. “I must really seem dumb huh?”

“I don’t think you’re dumb” he shrugged making you look up at him again “I just think books never really caught your interest. I’m sure you’re much smarter than me at other things.”

You gave him a small smile, heat slightly creeping up your cheeks but you shook it off quickly. “I just don’t know how ya have time to read so much. I would if I could, I’m sure it’s real nice.”

“What do you mean time to read? What do you do with all of your time then?” he scrunched his forehead at you as you passed through the opening in the rusted chained fence.

“What do I not do?” you chuckled shaking your head as you walked over to an old wooden picnic table. “I have cheerleading, and piano lessons, French tutoring, math tutoring, homework, social club.” You rambled shaking your head. Ponyboy stared at you as you sat your bag down on the table.

“What?” You raised your brow eventually when he didn’t respond.

He shook his head slightly, placing his bag on the table also. “That’s just a lot. What do you do for fun?” He stepped into the seat, you mimicking his actions.

“What do ya mean?”

“Fun? You know that thing people do to relieve boredom.” He smirked at you making you roll your eyes.

“I mean Justin and I go to the drive in sometimes.” You shrugged pulling out some papers from your bag. “That’s pretty fun.”

“The drive-in isn’t fun.” He mocked.

“Well what do you do for fun then, huh?” you challenged him.

“Man, all you can do on our side of town is have fun.” He put on a tough face and puffed out his chest playfully. “Haven’t you heard of us Greasers?” he loudly joked “We break into stores and steal cars and smash windows!” He started to laugh, breaking his act making you laugh out loud also, the hardest you’ve laughed in a long time. It was nice to see this playful side of the boy that was so quiet before. You liked that he made light of the situation of your guys' lives. If you didn’t, you'd just about go crazy in this town. You both laughed until you finally caught your breath. “No, but really, we do have lots of fun. Legally too.” He chuckled as you both sobered up from your laughing fit.

“What do ya guys really do?”

He sat up slightly “Well, we don’t really do a whole lot. Just bein around each other is fun enough. The gangs always got you on your toes.” He smirked.

“The gang? Like your friends? You guys are really that close?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded “Were all super close. Practically blood. Some of us even are, my brothers I mean. Don’t ya have best buddies?”

“Well yeah I have close friends” you shrugged “but nothing like that. I mean there’s Lisa who I pretty much shared a crib with and Justin of course.” You nodded “I don’t know, I never really see it as fun when I'm with them.”

“That’s the saddest thing I've ever heard” he shook his head making you gave him a small smile.

“Tell me about them.” He looked up at you.

“The gang?”

You nodded completely forgetting why you guys even came to this park in the first place. It was nice hanging out with Ponyboy, you never would have imagined how much fun he was. “The way you talk about them, the must be pretty great. What are they like?”

“Well,” he sat up slightly clearly thinking of what to say “There's my brothers, Sodapop and Darry. Soda is one of the best guys you’d ever meet, truly. He knows how to make anyone happy, even Darry which is sayin a lot.”

“Whys that?”

“Darry’s just got a lot goin on. He’s only twenty but he takes care of us, makes sure we always got enough, the gang too.” He nodded. You decided to remain silent, not pushing too much. “Then there's Steve, Soda’s best friend.” He continued. “Steve works down at the DX with Soda. He’s pretty cool. And then there's Two-Bit.”

“Two-Bit? You boys really have some unique names.” You smiled. You hoped Ponyboy didn’t think you were making fun of him because you really weren’t. You liked their names, you liked that they weren’t the same as everyone else.

You could tell by the smirk on Pony’s face that he didn’t take your comment as an offense. “We’re pretty unique boys.” You smiled at his remark. “Two-Bit’s real name is Keith, but if you ever met the guy you’d know why we call him Two-Bit. We’ve called him that so long I sometimes forget its not even his name.”

“Then there's Dallas.” He continued “Dally’s all sorts of trouble. I’m sure you’d see his picture up in the sheriff's office. Probably even framed too.” He chuckled making you giggle. “And then Johnny, there's not much to say about Johnny. He’s real quiet, kinda like me. But he’s a real good buddy. They all are.”

“It sounds like quite a gang.” You smiled at the thought. You never thought that people could be that close, even you got sick of your friends after too much time with them. But the way Ponyboy talks about his friends, you couldn’t imagine him ever getting sick of them.

“We really are. We stick together.” He shrugged “When you don’t got much, you appreciate the little you have.”

The way he said that last statement gave you a nauseated feeling. You knew you had a lot, always the nicest food, the nicest clothes, cars, houses, all of that. But you never felt like any of it really mattered. Who cares if you drive a fancy Mustang when the people in the back seat aren’t the people you want to be around?

For a moment you both sat in silence, and you imagined what it would be like to actually care about people the way Pony described.

“You like Justin?”

You looked up, taken aback by his question. “Well, yeah, of course I like him. He’s a good guy.” You blinked.

“A good guy? That’s all?”

“What do you mean that’s all? What more is there?” you furrowed your brows at him. “You don’t think that’s important? Bein a good person.”

Ponyboy shrugged as he pulled out his own school supplies from his bag “I guess yeah. But I mean that’s usually not what you think of when you talk about your boyfriend or girlfriend.”

“What do you think about then Mr. Relationship expert?” You playfully mocked.

You watched a slight blush creep up through Ponyboy’s cheeks, but he quickly recovered. “I just think that when you're in love you don’t just think of them as a good person. I mean anybody could be a good person. I just think that, to the person I love, id wanna be more than just anybody to them.”

You stared at Ponyboy for a second, taking in everything he just said. “I’ve never really seen it that way.” You shook your head slowly. “Justin and I, we just make sense you know? So, I always figured I was lucky that he was a good guy.” You weren’t quite sure why you were telling Ponyboy, some greaser kid, this kind of stuff. You didn’t even talk to Lisa, someone you’ve known your entire life, this way. So why is it with him everything is so much more different? So much easier.

“So you're with the kid because it makes sense? What, because ya guys look really good on paper?”

“Justin is a good guy,” you felt yourself slightly get defensive. No one questioned your choices when it came to your life before, in fact, the choices you made were hardly even yours. You weren’t sure how to feel now that someone didn’t actually agree. “It’s not like a fairytale Pony. That stuff doesn’t exist.”

“How do you know that though?” He scrunched his forehead.

“Well,” you blinked slowly “have you ever had that kind of fairytale before?” you no longer felt defensive but almost curious. And you couldn’t understand why a small part of you was hoping he would say yes. That there is more out there than planned boyfriends and scheduled lives. But you knew by the expression he held after you asked, there wasn’t. This was it. This was the life you were born to live, and this is the life you’re going to.

“Maybe we should just start?” you spoke back up after a few moments of silence. The heaviness of the conversation becoming too much for your comfort. Ponyboy nodded in agreement, clearly feeling the same as you as he grabbed the book and opened to the first page. “Gregory, on my word, we’ll not carry coals.” He spoke.

You listened to Ponyboy read the pages from the book. You never found interest in art, or movies or books. English class always was a bore to you and you never could make it through a school play to save your life, but as he read the words you couldn’t help but listen. You liked the way he spoke, his voice raspy but clear. He never stuttered and he read with a sense of confidence that he must have adapted from countless hours of reading.

You liked how he didn’t get too excited when he read, but he wasn’t mundane either. He didn’t feel a need to attempt to mimic the emotion the author was portraying, because he knew the words written were enough. He took these things, these complicated words and he did something you couldn’t even imagine. He didn’t try to water them down and make them simple, but he didn’t try to make them anything more. He just let them thrive in their own way.

“Maybe that’s enough for today?” He finally looked up from the pages. You blinked, taking in your surroundings. The sun that once shined high and beat down ruthlessly has now started to lower and the temperature has cooled with the upcoming evening. You didn’t even notice the time that ticked by while Pony was reading. You started gathering your stuff together, Pony doing the same.

“When do you wanna meet again? I know you’re busy and all.” He slung his bookbag over his shoulder before standing.

You stood up mimicking his actions “I’m free after five tomorrow if you'd like to meet then?”

He nodded his head as you both slowly made your way out of the park “I can meet ya here.” You agreed before Ponyboy nodded a goodbye to you. You gave him a small wave before turning in the opposite direction of him to go towards your home.

The entire walk was consumed with your thoughts and for the first time in a while, your thoughts weren’t about everything you had to do. Instead, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ponyboys’ words. Your head was spinning as you replayed every word, words that weren’t even his own. Yet, when he spoke them, your stomach twisted in a way you’ve never experienced before.

You took a deep breath as you walked through the large perfectly crafted wooden door of your home. Your house truly was beautiful, even down to the detailed carvings in the wooden trim. It was such a beautiful mask that perfectly covered the mess inside.

Your family wasn’t crazy out there or anything. Your parents were nice and they always got you what you wanted but lately, you couldn’t help but notice how much more frequent your dad’s crude remarks towards your mom were and how your mom seemed to be pouring herself more and more wine each night. No one would ever know this stuff though. Just like the house, everything on the outside was beautiful, down to the smallest details.

“Mom?” You called as you walked through the door and made your way into the kitchen where your mom usually was around this time, where you found a notecard on the counter.

At the country club, your father is working late. There's money In the drawer if you'd like to get dinner.

Love, mom.

You let out a breath and dropped the note back on the counter before making your way up to your bedroom and heading towards the phone.

“Hey baby.” You heard your boyfriends voice come through the line.

“Hey,” you fell back onto your bed “have any plans for the night?”

“Actually yeah, me and James are hangin out. What's up?”

You chewed your lip thinking about your next words. You didn’t wanna be alone tonight but you knew that if James was with Justin, they'd be drinking, and as soon as Justin knew you were home alone he’d be on his way over. You just didn’t have the energy to deal with him when he was drunk.

“Just curious. I miss ya is all.”

“I miss ya too hun. Listen, how about me and you grab some dinner tomorrow night? I feel like we've barely spent any time together.”

“I cant” you chewed your lip, a habit you’ve never been able to drop no matter how much your mother lectured you. You did it so often sometimes you’d even accidentally slice a cut into your bottom lip. “I have to work on my project after tutoring.”

“On a Friday night? I know it's for a project and all but I don’t like how much time you're spendin with this greaser kid y/n.”

You closed your eyes sighing slightly. You had a feeling you shouldn’t have told Justin about Ponyboy being a greaser, and right now you really wish you didn’t. “I’ll cancel ok? We can get dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. I love you.”

You heard the words and immediately thought back to Mr. Spite in class on Tuesday. The way he described love was stuck in your head, the words on a constant loop. He made it seem so much more than what it was. You loved Justin, your parents were in love, James and Lisa were in love. You knew what love was, but for some reason when Justin said the words, all you could think about was the way Mr. Spite talked about it. “You too.” You breathed before ending the call.

You felt flustered. You weren’t sure how you were gonna even cancel with Ponyboy since you didn’t know his number or where he even lives. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to cancel on Pony. You told yourself that your hesitation was logical. You couldn’t do badly on this project. But if you were truly being honest with yourself, you found yourself enjoying Ponyboy’s company. And spending the evening with him seemed much more fun than with Justin.

You got up and made your way into your father's study and dug around in a few cabinets until you found a big yellow phone book. You looked through the Curtis’s until you found a Darrel Curtis listed. You remember Pony telling you about his older brother Darry, and that was the only name that was somewhat similar.

You walked back into your room and dialed the printed number, waiting for an answer. You weren’t even sure if you were calling the right person. What if the phone number was listed under his parent's name? Why did you even agree to cancel in the first place? Before you had the chance to over analyze everything you heard a cheerful voice spill through the line.

“Hello?” The man's voice chuckled, clearly coming down from a laughing fit. The voice made you smile slightly.

“Uh hi? Is this uh- the Curtis home?” you scratched your head. That was stupid. Of course it’s the Curtis home, you just looked up the name in the phonebook.

“Yeah, who’s askin?” the voice didn’t comment on your stupid question and for that you were grateful.

“My name is Y/N I’m lookin for Ponyboy.” You listened as you heard the boy yell Ponyboy’s name away from the phone. You were relieved that you had the right number, but worry set back in when you listened to the chatter on the other line. You were sure Pony was gonna think you were crazy for calling him at his house. Would he be mad? Would he be upset at you for canceling?

You were starting to wish you didn’t give the man your name so you could have just hung up. “Y/N?” you heard Pony’s familiar voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry for callin you at home.”

“No, don’t worry about it. What's up?”

“I can't meet with you tomorrow something came up.” You chewed on your lip again.

“Oh. Okay well, that’s okay I guess.” You felt a pang of guilt. You felt like all you did was disappoint this kid and two weeks ago it wouldn’t have bothered you at all, but now you hated how upset he sounded.

“I'm so sorry Pony. What day is okay with you? Maybe this weekend?”

“I cant. I have some stuff I can't miss or I would.”

“Well,” you sighed ignoring the twisting feeling in your stomach you were feeling just a few hours ago “You could come over tonight? I mean, just so we don’t get too far behind.”

“Like to your house?” you heard the obvious surprise in his voice.

“Well yeah, I mean only if you want to. It really is fine if you don’t wanna.” You rushed.

“No, no I will. Let me just talk to my brother and I’ll head on over. What’s your address?”

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sayo-writes-fanfiction · 6 years ago

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On the One Hand- Death: 4- Highs and Lows, Mostly Lows

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Plunking her bag down in the doorway of Bobby's study, Sonya did a quick mental check of everything she packed and nodded to herself in satisfaction before moving to join Garth at the desk where Bobby stood waiting.

"Got everything?"

Holding back a sigh, Sonya nodded absently at the older hunter's question.

"Machete?"

"Yep."

"Gun?"

Patting the small of her back where the pistol he had gotten her rested comfortably, she nodded again. "Check."

"Salt?"

"Obviously."

"Clothes?"

"Figured I'd make new ones on the way there."

Narrowing his eyes at her sarcastic quip, Bobby continued. "Lighter?"

"Gonna rub some sticks together."

"ID?"

Reaching back, she patted her back pocket where her wallet rested." Right here."

"Other ID?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Sonya reached up and pulled a freshly made square of plastic out of the pocket of her open button down. "Got it."

"Killing a vampire means..."

"Cutting off it's head."

A beat, then- "You-"

"Salt and burn the remains. If you're feeling froggy, do a little tribal dance around the fire."

Hearing Garth try to cover a laugh up with an unconvincing cough, Sonya pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

"Don't swallow any-"

"Vampire blood, I know, Bobby." she said with some exasperation. Fixing him with an earnest stare, she held her hands out slightly. "I've been reading up on all things monster for the better half of a year."

Huffing lightly under his breath, Bobby sat down in his chair, relenting a bit. "then git goin'. Don't need you in my hair anymore."

Sonya snorted at that, eyebrows raising slightly. "What hair?"

"Get out."

With a huff of laughter, Sonya sent Bobby a wry smile and spun around on her heel, heading back towards where her bag laid. "Call you when we get there." She tossed over her shoulder, waiting long enough to hear Bobby's usual grunt of acknowledgement before stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

With a small sigh, she shook off the feeling of forgetting something and moved to join Garth beside his truck where he stood waiting. Giving her an easy grin, he slapped the top with his hand and opened the door. "Ready to go?"

"Apparently." With a slight grin of her own, Sonya tossed her bag in behind the passenger seat and slid inside. Looking through the windshield at the house, she stared at it as Garth started the monster of a vehicle and turned around to drive away.

Turning her attention to the side mirror, she watched the house disappear in a cloud of dust before vanishing entirely from her field of view when the truck turned onto the main road.

"And I'll fly up into the sky!"

Sonya beat out a rhythm on the dash in front of her, mimicking the drums blaring from the stereo.

"Then i'll fall.. To the burning Earth below!" She bellowed out with Garth, her voice cracking a bit with the volume. Tipping her head back, she slapped her hands harder against the dash.

"Into the skyyyy!" Garth's off-key voice made her grin wildly and join in for the finish.

"And down... To... Earth!" They shouted together, neither one caring if they were in tune or not. With a resounding thud of her hands on the dash, the song finished.

Four hours of driving west had given the two of them an opportunity to learn something new about each other. Like the fact they both liked obscure bands barely anyone knew. It was a preference, Garth claimed, one you either picked up and loved, or hated it outright, there was no in-between. Leaning her arm out the open window, she let out a whoop of laughter as Garth tipped his head back and attempted to what she thought was a yodel.

Spotting a road sign up ahead, she reached over and turned the beginning base to another song down and pointed it out. "Looks like we're a few minutes out."

Nodding his head in agreement, Garth tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel in thought as they drove by the sign declaring they were entering Douglas Wyoming. "What did the reports say again?"

Leaning over the back of her seat, Sonya dug out the papers she tucked into her bag and shook them out. Scanning a couple of statements printed neatly on the first page, she cleared her throat and began reading out loud. "The first victim, Mary Stephen, 28, was found near North Platte river, throat torn open." Turning the page over, she grimaced slightly at the photo of a young woman with long brown hair laying near the edge of the water, limbs splayed out as if she had just been tossed aside.

"The second victim, Joshua Northon, 16, was found three days later in the same place. Marks on his wrists and ankles indicating he had been restrained before death." Flipping it over, she eyed the picture of a classic football star, complete with a Letterman jacket. Squinting slightly, she studied the close-up picture of the boy's neck, eyeing the obvious marks left behind by a feeding vampire. "Why was he restrained but the woman wasn't?" Garth's voice cut through her thoughts, making Sonya pursed her lips slightly and looked over at him in thought.

"She was probably attacked outright and he was kept as a sort of... Doggie Bag." She curled her lip slightly at the thought and shook her head, letting the papers fall onto her lap. "Either way, it has Vampire stink all over it."

Nodding his head enthusiastically, he turned onto the main road, pausing at a stoplight before turning right onto a less busy road. "Right on, lets find us a place to stay and something to eat then, amigo."

Grinning slightly at his exuberance for hunting all things monster, Sonya agreed with a low hum. "Two rooms though, we may be friends, Garth, but I don't ever want to find your underwear hanging over the side of the bathtub again."

"That was one time!"

"One time too many, my friend."

Stopping in the open doorway of her motel room, Sonya grimaced at the less-than-idea decor and kicked the door shut behind her. After paying for their neighboring rooms, the both of them agreed to a couple of hours to settle in and clean up from the ride over before going out to find something to eat. Tossing her bag onto the bed, she turned in a small circle to eye the area critically.

A single twin bed sitting in the middle with the headboard settled against cracked and peeling green wallpaper. It wasn't even a nice color of green, something closer to pea soup if she had to put a name to it. Turning around, she eyed the bathroom door with some trepidation before moving to push it open with a single finger, bracing herself for whatever lay beyond it.

Squinting open one eye, she felt a small rush of relief when she spied a relatively clean room, white tile, standing shower tucked into a corner and a toilet that looked like it had been bleached within an inch of it's life on the other side of the open door.

Nodding her head a bit, she breathed out a small sigh of relief and turned to face the room once again. At least the bathroom looked clean, she didn't think she'd catch anything from the toilet if she used it anyway.

With her inspection done, Sonya moved back towards the bed and opened her bag to dig around a moment to find the canister of salt. Straightening back up, she started pouring a thick line across the windowsill and across the threshold of the door. Thankfully it opened outward, all she had to worry about was not breaking the line when she entered or exited. Precautions finished, she moved back towards her bed and pulled out an old, unused journal she found a few months prior while digging around in Bobby's attic out of pure boredom.

Untying the string, she flipped it open and scanned over the first few pages she had filled with idle ramblings about the show she remembered watching before showing up there. Various things underlined from time to time, names mostly, of people or cities. Vague recollections of the story line, something about the apocalypse and then a good character turned bad? It was all very fuzzy and hard to focus on, much like a piece of dust stuck to your eye, it's there, you see it in your peripheral, but if you try to look at it the damn thing moves away.

One set of names stuck out the most, so much so she had written them at the top of the first page in bold and underlined them several times. Sam and Dean, no recollection of what they looked like, or even gender, but those names were prominent. With a shrug, she flipped to a new page and clicked the pen in her hand, beginning to write about her first official hunt, even if it was with another hunter.

Pausing in her writing, she looked up at the window, watching the curtains stir slightly in the breeze from the overhead fan. Not that she was a hunter herself, not really. Sure, she knew what to do, how to kill monsters and even track them down. But until now, she didn't do much about it other than help Bobby when other Hunters called or stopped by for help.

After this though, she'd have the right to consider herself one, even if no one else agreed. It was just the first of what she hoped to be many hunts, first of many cases. A small smile hovered around her lips at the thought. Sure it was dangerous, but something deep inside crowed in excitement at the thought of finally doing something real to help people other than sitting off to the side with her head buried in a book.

Looking back down at the page, she doodled in the top corner idly, tracing the outline of an eight while she continued to think to herself about the current case they were on.

From the looks of things, it couldn't be very many vampires according to Garth. Maybe three or four at the most. She wrinkled her nose slightly at the idea of more than just one or two, her fingers twitching slightly in a sharp downward stroke of the pen, putting a line through the eight she drew from top to bottom.

But she really couldn't complain, Sonya shrugged, watching without really seeing as she drew a line off to the side, connected at the end to the first line through the eight so it tipped up just a bit. It was a case that Bobby himself handed to her willingly, if that didn't say he thought she was ready for this, than nothing would.

With a small huff, she stuck her tongue out slightly between her lips, watching as she completed the doodle with an arched line going up then another one straight down, looking a lot like a backwards number four.

A knock on the door drew her out of whatever daze she was in. Blinking a bit, she shook her head and looked through the window to see Garth standing there, hands in his pockets as he waited for her to answer.

Not bothering to look at the journal anymore, or even finish her entry, she slapped it shut and tied the pieces of leather in a quick knot before reaching over to open the door and push it open. "Mind the salt."

Looking down, Garth carefully stepped over the line she made and shut the door behind him with a curious hum. "Bobby taught you well."

"Yeah, well, considering the kind of thing that tends to come around when a hunter stops by the house, you generally learn to keep a salt line at the door just in case." Shrugging slightly, she stuffed the journal into her bag and stood up, stretching her arms over her head with a low groan. "Ready to get something to eat?"

"Absolutely, talked to one of the housekeeping girls working the rooms and she mentioned a little restaurant that made the best homemade fries this side of the state." He rubbed his hands together eagerly with a lick to his lips. "Said we gotta try some while we're in town."

"Absolutely." Grinning at him, Sonya waved to the door so he'd open it and step out, following behind him as she shut and locked it behind her. "Lead the way, comrade."

"Ah, German!"

"Russian, Garth."

"Right."

After one of the best meals she had in about a year, Sonya and Garth moved farther into town, tracking down the first lead they wanted to follow. Mary's sister, Lily, lived just down the block from the older woman, and was the last one to see her before she showed up dead the next morning.

Parking the truck alongside the curb, Garth looked over at her curiously as she pulled out her fake ID with a curious expression. Bobby had given it to her before she went upstairs to pack her things, not even an explanation, not that she needed one, it wasn't the first fake he had given to her.

But now she had the chance, she studied the plastic idly, taking in the picture he put on it then moving to the credentials listed below.

"Apparently I'm a private detective." She finally announced, turning to show Garth as he shuffled through the center console a moment before pulling out his own piece of plastic. "And I'm..." He squinted at it a moment and turned it to face her with a grin. "State police. You helping us with the case then?"

"Probably, but I'm having strong flashbacks of a show called Psych." Sonya muttered, rolling the sleeves of her button up down and buttoning it up about halfway to make herself seem more presentable. "Psych?"

"Never mind, some TV show I used to watch, not important." Waving a hand at him, she opened the door and stepped out, her gaze drifting up to the small apartment building in front of them.

Maybe four apartments at the most, all of them with their own balcony that faced towards the street. Turning to look at Garth, she eyed his hastily made tie and mussed hair with a sigh. "Wait, hold still." Moving in front of him, she rolled her eyes and undid the knot he made, carefully fixing and adjusting the tie so it sat a little more professionally before reaching up and fixing his hair so it didn't look like he just got into a fight with a hair dryer.

"There, much better." With a grin, she stepped back and admired her work, one hand reaching out to slap his away when it came up to loosen the tie. "Don't ruin my work."

"I hate ties." He wined, making her snicker lightly and link her arm with his while they walked towards the apartments. "Then you should have thought about it before picking your ID."

"I'll be the private detective next time." He grumbled in a very un-Garth way as she reached out and pressed the buzzer for Lily's apartment with an amused grin. "Sure thing."

Looking at him from the corner of her eye, Sonya pursed her lips thoughtfully and looked forward again. "You know, you should keep your hair that way, looks good on you."

Garth glanced over at her and reached up to touch his hair lightly with a thoughtful expression. "Ya think?"

"Definitely."

A crackle from the speaker in front of them cut their conversation short as a young woman's voice came through. "Yes?"

Clearing his throat, Garth moved forward so she could hear him better on her end. "Hello, I'm with the state police here investigating your sister's death?"

The crackle and hiss coming from the speaker sounded for a moment before she spoke again. "Sissy's death was ruled an animal attack, why are the police looking into it?"

This time, Sonya stepped forward, putting a hand on Garth's shoulder to move him to the side. "There was new information that came up recently that brought some curious eyes towards it." She explained smoothly, silently thanking her lucky stars for her affinity for reading so many mystery books in her high school years.

A small pause then a buzzer sounded, indicating the door being unlocked. Sharing a look with Garth, they both shrugged and pulled it open to step inside, one of the doors at the top of the stairs opened, a brown head of hair sticking out to look down at them. Offering the young woman a smile, she walked up the stairs with Garth following behind. "You must be Lily."

"Yes..." The young woman hedged, obviously still nervous as she eyed the two of them when they came to a stop in front of her door. "Do you have ID?"

Reaching into her shirt pocket, Sonya pulled out her ID and handed it over to Lily, watching with some amusement as she stared at it closely then slowly handed it back to her so she could take Garth's next. Bobby had pointed out early on when she brought up the topic of fake IDs used in cases like this that generally the public knows little to nothing about what an official ID looks like other than police badges and the like. It was the ones that worked in law you had to watch out for.

Taking the card back, she tucked it away and stuffed her hands into her pockets, waiting for the woman to finish her inspection and hand Garth's ID back. "Why is a private detective working with the police anyway?"

"I generally lend a hand when the police run out of leads. A fresh pair of eyes." She shrugged lightly and offered Lily a small smile, one that spoke of stories she could tell if they had the time to. Visibly relaxing, Lily smiled back and moved away from the doorway, waving the both of them in with one of her hands. "Come in then."

Nodding at her in thanks, she and Garth stepped into the entry way, pausing at the edge of the linoleum square in front of the door to keep the carpet from getting damp should any shoes be wet when they come in. Stepping past them, Lily moved to the left where a small living room set up was, a love seat and a reclining chair along with a small coffee table set in the middle.

Sitting down on the edge of the recliner, Lily waved at the love seat for them to sit on. "Thank you Ma'am." Garth smiled winningly at her and settled down in the seat along with Sonya, both of them grunting a bit in surprise at how far the cushions sank down.

"Oh! Sorry, I should have mentioned the springs were broken..." Lily jumped up, ready to help them to their feet only to stop when Sonya laughed and waved her off. "No, it's fine, fine. Not the first broken couch I've sat in." Hesitating a bit, Lily slowly sat back down, watching the two of them with a small, worried frown tugging at her lips.

Garth grinned and slung his arms along the back of the couch, long limbs stretching from end to end as he relaxed back fully against the seat. Rolling her eyes at his unprofessional appearance, Sonya sent Lily an apologetic look. "Sorry, he's new to the force. Still a little... Rough around the edges."

Giving them a tight smile, Lily nodded her head slightly and tapped her fingers on her knees as Sonya pulled the packet of paper from inside her button up- she refused to carry anything resembling a purse- and flipped through the pages before finding the report on Mary. "Now it says here you were with Mary the night before she was found?"

Lily nodded and fiddled with her hands, fingers spinning a ring on the first finger idly while she spoke. "Sissy was here for dinner, we usually have dinner together on Friday nights after she gets off work." She bit her lip, eyes welling up with tears as she looked down at the floor. "I should have made her stay, she kept saying she didn't drink that much, but she was stumbling down the stairs."

Reaching out, Sonya laid her hand on top of Lily's getting her attention and stopping her from fiddling with her ring anymore. Idly she noticed they were cold and wet, probably was washing them before they buzzed the door. Shaking off the random thought, she focused on the woman's face, a gentle smile on her own. "Lily, it isn't your fault, you have to know that. No woman, no matter how old, don't do anything if they really don't want to."

Lily offered her a weak smile and nodded her head. "You're right, of course." A small sniffle prompted Garth to lean forward and grab the small box of tissues sitting on the table, offering them to her with a little smile of his own.

Taking one with a grateful look at him, Lily wiped her eyes and nose before taking a slow breath. "Then, she called me from her car, said something about almost being home before the call cut off. I think her phone died, she never really did keep it charged properly."

Sonya shared a look with Garth, they didn't have a lot of things to go by, the bare minimum of evidence that Bobby was able to get from the basic sources. If they wanted to get their hands on anything from the scene or even the coroners report, they would have to test their skills against the police department.

"That's- That's all." Lily shrugged slightly, her hands twisting on her lap again as she looked up at them. "Next day I got a call from the police department saying they found my phone number in her Emergency contacts."

Nodding slightly, Sonya heaved herself out of the trap of a couch and offered the young woman her hand to shake as she stood up too. "Thank you, it's one thing to read what happened and another to hear the information for yourself." Looking over at Garth, Sonya bit back a laugh as he struggled to his feet to join them. "Look, I don't think there's anymore you can tell us right now, but-" She reached into the pocket of his jacket and snagged one of the cards with his cellphone number on it and held it out to her with a smile. "If you can think of anything else, anything at all, please call this number and let us know?"

Lily took the card from her and nodded, staring down at the number scribbled across it with some measure of confusion. "It's my personal number, much easier to get a hold of me with that." Garth offered when she looked up at them in question. Her eyebrows smoothed out when she understood and nodded. "Of course. Absolutely."

Shaking her hand, Garth turned to wave Sonya towards the door. "We'll be on our way then. Please, don't hesitate to call if anything comes up, even if you don't remember." Garth paused beside the open door, sending Lily a serious look. "There's no telling if whoever did this knows where you are."

"Uh... Yes, right." Lily's eyes widened a fraction as he shut the door and lead the way down the stairs. Once outside, Sonya slapped him on the shoulder making the taller hunter flinch and look down at her in surprise. "Ow!"

"What the hell was that? Are you trying to scare her? She's already upset over her sister dying but now you got her paranoid someone's gonna come looking for her!"

"I just wanted her to be careful!" Garth complained, dodging away from Sonya when she went to slap his arm again, quickly moving around to the other side of his truck out of her reach. "And you know I'm right anyhow!"

"It doesn't mean you have to scare her!" Sonya snorted, opening the door with a jerk and slipping into the seat with a scowl as he clambered in as well, starting the engine while tossing her cautious looks the entire time, waiting for her to try and hit him again. "Alright, alright, i'm sorry." He groaned when she didn't say anything when he pulled away from the curb and back onto the road. "I shouldn't have said it."

Looking over at him, Sonya pursed her lips and slumped slightly in the seat. "You're right though, if the vamps find out about her, she could end up their next meal."

Tightening his grip on the wheel with one hand, Garth reached up and loosened the tie so it hung around his neck. "I know, that's why we gotta find them before they do." Shooting her a small grin, he nodded towards the papers still in her hands. "Anything else in there?"

"Not really." Sonya hummed, flipping through the papers, scanning them a moment then tossing them into the back seat. "You'll have to go to the police station to get your hands on the official reports."

"You don't wanna come with me?" He glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow, surprised she wasn't already suggesting they head over there to begin with. Sonya shook her head and sent him a wry smile, one hand reaching up to pat her pocket where the ID sat. "I don't really wanna chance this right now, first case and all, it wouldn't do to get arrested right away."

"Fair point, wanna go back to the motel?"

Looking out her window, Sonya spied a small shop among the others lining the street and smiled lightly. "No actually, let me out here would you? I wanna look around a bit."

"Right-o." turning the wheel, he pulled up along the curb and stopped, watching as she hopped out onto the side walk. "Shouldn't take long, wanna meet here or at the diner?" He nodded down towards the corner where the restaurant sat. Glancing over towards it, Sonya nodded. "Yea, meet you there." Patting the side of the truck, she backed up a step and watched him pull out and drive away.

Turning, she tucked her hands into her pockets and wandered down the sidewalk to stop in front of the small store she spotted earlier, a wistful smile tugging at her lips as she studied the crystals and trinkets hanging in the window. It had been so long since she had seen a wiccan shop, even longer since she visited one.

In her old life, as she had started calling it, she regularly visited one a few towns away, the woman running it a bonified wiccan that helped way more than a string of psychiatrists ever could. Getting help with keeping the energy in her home made living there far calmer. And now, considering what she had to live with, it wouldn't hurt to get a few extra precautionary items to keep the house safe with.

An hour later found Sonya sitting in the back with a young woman, maybe a couple years younger than her, drinking a cup of green tea and laughing at some stories the shop owner shared.

"She really said, 'you're the reason my husband cheated!'?" Sonya managed to wheeze out between bouts of laughter. The owner, Sam, which she thought was ironic considering her fascination with that name along with Dean, nodded her head with a wry smile. "Not in so many words but it's basically what she was saying."

"Oh my." Sonya snickered and took a sip of tea, letting it's warmth seep into her body with a satisfied hum. Looking over at Sam, she offered her a wry smile and set the cup down. "You know, when I came in here, I wasn't sure if you were the real deal or not."

Sam shook her head and smiled herself, leaning back in her seat as she studied Sonya with a small tip of her head. "It was apparent the moment you walked in why you were here you know."

Sonya grimaced slightly and lifted a shoulder. "Is it that obvious?"

"Hon, your soul is shining brighter than a disco ball." Sam raised an eyebrow and tipped her head towards her chest, like she was staring at her soul. "It's like a beacon almost. I'm surprised none of the creepy crawlies spotted you yet."

"Well, this is my first time out and about... Around here anyway." Sonya hedged, not sure how much she should say to this woman. Sam closed her eyes in thought and nodded suddenly, standing up, she waved at Sonya to follow her. "Come here, I want to show you something."

Getting up, Sonya frowned and followed Sam farther back into the shop, ducking past a curtain with several protective spells woven into it. Stepping into the smaller room, she watched Sam run her fingers along the spines of several books in a large shelf before stopping on the thinnest one and pulled it out. Turning to face Sonya, she held it out with a small smile. "Take this, read it then call me." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a card and placed it on top of the book Sonya now held, her name and number printed clearly on the white card.

"It will help."

Looking up at her, Sonya wasn't sure if she should hug her or break down crying because for the first time in a year, she felt some semblance of normalcy again. Even if it was as simple as talking to someone who under stood.

"I don't know-"

"Don't worry about it." Sam shook her head and waved a hand towards the door. "Go on now, I think that friend of yours is probably waiting. Didn't you say you were meeting him at the restaurant?"

"Oh! Yeah, shoot, I forgot all about him." Eyes wide, Sonya spun around and quickly made her way back towards the front door. "I'll call you, thank you again!" Stepping outside in the bright sun, she shielded her eyes against the sudden glare and looked around, feeling the tense muscles in her back loosen slightly as relief once again washed over her.

Looking down at the book in her hands, she turned it over curiously looking for a title or something but it was blank. Besides the design stamped in silver along the spine, it wasn't marked by anything.

Flipping open the cover, she paged through it until she came to one with writing on it. In an elegant script, obviously handwritten, were the words 'Touched by God'.

Furrowing her brow, Sonya frowned at the words and looked over her shoulder at the shop in confusion. This wasn't exactly what she had in mind, she wasn't exactly religious and with Sam being Wiccan, she didn't think she was christian or anything else either.

Looking back down at it, she let out a small sigh and shut the book, tucking it into one of the large cargo pockets of her pants before heading down the sidewalk towards the diner. She was the real deal though, so if she thought it could help her in the long run, then maybe there was something in there after all.

Tags: @olidiavalree

#supernatural #fanfiction #oc insert #trans female to male oc #garth fitzgerald iv #bobby singer #wicca #wiccan #vampires #mentions of corpses #Psych reference #because who doesn't love psych #I know I do #Also #bright soul has a meaning later #remember it

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iminclinedtowriting · 7 years ago

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FYI my date is a boy

summary: “First off, Mum, seeing as Sarah is my ex-girlfriend, similarity to her isn’t exactly a selling point. Second of all, I am seeing someone, so I’ll have to turn down the awkward blind wedding date.” aka Shit. I just told my mom I'm in a relationship and I haven't even told her I'm bisexual. Now what? words: 3000 genre: fluff, established relationship, coming out time: may 2011ish series: My Youth Is Yours part: 2 [[ao3]]

This semester is definitely going to be the death of me. All that is left is this 5,000 word paper. Just one dumb term paper is the only thing standing between me and the sweet freedom of being done with my first year of uni.

I’m lounging on Phil’s bed, surrounded by textbooks and half-heartedly trying to write a few paragraphs. Phil’s apartment was empty when I got here this afternoon, so I’m monopolizing the entire bed as fruitless, petty revenge for Phil not being here to distract me. I’m not quite sure where Phil is at the moment, but I hope he has the foresight to stop at the grocery store on his way home. The refrigerator currently contains ketchup, stale bread, and a questionable tub of yogurt – not exactly dinner ingredients.

Not that I’ve been paying too much attention to work anyway, but I’m completely distracted from ‘writing’ when my phone rings from the depths of the covers. When I manage to dig my phone out of the blankets, I answer without looking. I assume it’s Phil, hopefully calling about dinner (no one else really calls me, tbh).

“Hello?”

“Hello sweetheart, how are you today?”

How wrong I was. I love my mother. Dearly. But if I’d noticed the caller id, I probably would have let it go to voicemail. I’d hate to further distract myself from tumblr writing.

“Hi, mum. I’m doing well. I’ve been working on my term paper all day.” Sort of, whatever.

“I’m so proud of how hard you’re working, Daniel.” I grimace, and I’m not sure if it’s because she used my full name or because she’s seriously misguided in her pride.

A few seconds of silence pass before Mum continues. “Your cousin Cassidy is getting married – your invitation came in the post with ours today.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I’ve always liked Adam.”

“The wedding is June 15th. You’re done with your semester before then, right?

“Yeah, the semester is over June 4th. I can make it. Will you RSVP for me?”

“No problem, dear. I’m so glad you can come. If you haven’t already made plans, I was thinking you could come home a bit early and we can do something for your birthday.”

Ugh. As much as I love Cassidy and want to be there for her wedding, I was hoping to spend my birthday with Phil this year. We haven’t made actual plans yet, but he’s been hinting at a restaurant he wants to take me to.

“Er… yeah, maybe. I’m not sure if I’m doing anything on my birthday, I’ll have to let you know.” I say noncommittally.

“Well, if it makes any difference, Cassidy said you could bring a date. If you’re seeing someone, you could bring them home with you for your birthday as well… Although, if you’re not seeing anyone, my friend Jodie has a daughter that is starting at Manchester in the fall I think you’d get on with well. She reminds me a lot of Sarah.”

“First off, Mum, seeing as Sarah is my ex-girlfriend, similarity to her isn’t exactly a selling point. Second of all, I am seeing someone, so I’ll have to turn down the awkward blind wedding date.”

I immediately blanch as I realize I just confessed to being decidedly not single.

My mum, however, did not miss the confession. “That’s great, honey. I’m glad to hear that! How long have you been dating? Does she study law too? Do you think you’ll bring her to the wedding?”

Shit shit shit. Fuck this is not how I thought this conversation was going to go.

I hesitate for a moment, trying to think of the best way to end this conversation as quickly and with as little information as possible. When I finally respond, I chose my words carefully and actively avoid using any pronouns.

“Calm down, Mum. We’ve been dating for several months.” Technically 20 months qualifies as ‘several months’… “I’m not sure about the wedding or my birthday yet. I’m not sure if it’s the best idea. We’ll have to talk it over.”

“Several months!? I can’t believe you’ve kept this a secret for that long, Daniel. I hope you decided to bring her – I’m sure everyone would love to meet her, especially since you’ve been dating for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh… Like I said, we’ll see, Mum. I’ve got to go, I’m in the middle of my term paper and I need to finish this section before I lose my train of thought,” I invent wildly, desperate to end the call.

“Oh sorry dear, I didn’t mean to interrupt your studying. Don’t think you are off the hook though, I expect more details about this later.”

“Okay, sure Mum, bye.” I smash the end call button before my mother has a chance to respond. With a sigh of frustration, I flop onto my back and glare at the ceiling, considering my options.

Pretend to break up with my ‘girlfriend’ in the next month so I can avoid bringing ‘her’ to the wedding.

Not exactly foolproof. Mum will still ask a million questions about our relationship (and it’s timely demise) that I’ll either have to evade or lie about. Not to mention, I’ll still have to switch all of the pronouns.

Find a girl willing to pretend to be my girlfriend for the weekend.

Also has its complications. For starters, I definitely do not have any female friends close enough to ask that kind of favor of. Not to mention, we’d have to make up a complete back-story and risk getting caught in a web of lies. And what if I had to kiss her or something? I don’t want to kiss anyone that isn’t Phil.

Come out.

Terrifying.

The more I think about it, though, the more option three is the only option that makes sense. Me and Phil are only getting more serious – I’m planning to move in with him when the semester is over for god’s sake – and the truth is going to have to come out sooner or later. If I go along with this girlfriend ruse now, I’ll end up having to confess that I lied or lie more later on to cover up this lie.

Resolutely, I shove my law books aside (no way I am going to be able to concentrate on it now, let’s be real) and move to the living room. As I fiddle with my phone, I consider texting Phil to ask when he’s coming home but I figure I’ll just wait. Before I call my mum back, I need to talk to Phil. I have no idea how to do this.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall with thoughts rushing around my head when I finally hear the click of the door being unlocked. Phil barely has the deadbolt turned before I’m standing in front of the door. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I gratefully notice that he is holding several Tesco bags, but my appetite has completely vanished.

“Thank god you’re home, we need to talk.”

Phil’s eyes widen and he looks alarmed. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Honestly? I’m kind of panicking.”

“Okay, take a seat and let me put the milk away. Then we can talk.”

I shuffle over to his table, immediately burying my head in my hands. The chair next to me screeches as Phil pulls it out and sits down. Out of the periphery of my vision, I can see Phil reach for my hand.

“What’s wrong?”

I groan into my arms and take a deep breath before I sit up. “My mum called today. Apparently my cousin Cassidy is getting married next month and she invited me to the wedding.”

“Er, alright. I’m not sure I’m understanding the problem here…”

“There are several things. One really big problem and a whole buttload of smaller problems.” Phil looks at me expectantly. “One: the wedding is June 15th and my mum wants me to come home for my birthday. Two: I was told I could bring a date to both my birthday and the wedding. Three: my lovely mum offered to set me up on a blind date with her friend’s daughter.”

Phil chuckles. “Alright. None of those seem life changing. If you have to go home for your birthday, we can celebrate early, that’s fine. Also, I’d rather you didn’t take your mum up on the blind date, seeing as I like having you as my boyfriend and all.”

“None of those were the big problem, Phil.”

“So what is it then?”

I finally look up enough to meet Phil’s eyes. “I told my mum I’d have to turn down the blind date since I’m seeing someone. Now she’s hoping I’ll bring that person home with me. And she’s assuming that person is a girl.”

Phil looks about like a deer in headlights. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“What are you thinking of doing?”

“I’ve thought about this a lot in the past—” I glance at the clock “—three hours. There’s only one logical option. I need to come out sooner or later, so it might as well be now, I guess.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured. If you aren’t ready or don’t want to, we can figure something out.”

I close my eyes and collect my thoughts, taking a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I resolutely meet Phil’s gaze. “I’m sure. I knew the time would come and it’s come,” I say with an air of finality.

“I’m proud of you, Bear.”

“Thanks. I have no idea how I’m going to do this though. I mean, how does someone just call up their mum and be like ‘hey, thanks for telling me I could bring a date, but fyi it’s a boy and I’m bisexual’…?”

“Probably with a bit more tact than that. Maybe skype would be a better option. Or you could wait until you go home.”

“No, I don’t want to wait until I go home. If I wait until I go home then I can’t bring you as a date. Or worse, bringing you as my date will actually be how I come out. Oh my god, I didn’t even ask, do you even want to go to this? The wedding? I’m sure I can get out of the birthday thing if I try, but I have to go to the wedding. I’d love it if you’d come, but I get that meeting my whole family all at once is really intimidating and I wouldn’t blame—”

“Dan. Shut up.” Phil interrupts me and I stop rambling.

“Sorry.” I turn my gaze downward and toy with the hem of my shirt. Phil grabs my face between his hands, forcing me to look up at him.

“Of course I want to go with you. Both to the wedding and for your birthday.”

“But I know you had plans in mind for here.”

“Nothing that can’t happen a day or two early. This way you get two birthdays!” Phil looks so excited that I almost forget about the task looming over my head. Almost.

“Okay. So that��s settled. Now I just need to actually tell my mum and hopefully she doesn’t revoke the date invitation.”

“It’s going to be fine, Dan. I know it’s nerve-wracking, but I think your family is going to take it much better than you’re giving them credit for. When do you want to talk to her?”

“Now?” I try to sound confident, but instead, it comes out like a weak question. Phil raises his eyebrow. “I want to do it before I lose my nerve.”

Without saying anything, Phil disappears into his room. When he returns, he is carrying my laptop and a bag of Maltesers. “Here.” He shoves the laptop into my hands. “Text your mum now. Tell her you need to skype.”

I nod numbly and do as he says. My mum replies almost instantly.

I’ll be on in 5 minutes. Is everything okay?

I don’t respond. She’ll find out soon enough.

Phil rises and kisses my forehead. “I’ll let you have privacy with your mum.”

“NO!” I shout before I can control myself. I quickly add, “I really, really don’t think I can do this alone. Can’t you just like… sit at the table out of shot or something?”

“Of course. But if you decide you want me to leave, just say so, okay?” He settles back down into his chair and angles the laptop so that only I will be on camera.

I nod quietly in assent without taking my eyes off of the screen. In three minutes there will be a green dot next to my mum’s name. There’s no turning back now.

I snap out of my daze when the skype call comes through but I’m too petrified to move to answer it. Phil notices and reaches over and hits the accept button for me. Instead of pulling his hand back though, he grabs my hand and holds it under the table. The hidden gesture gives me the courage to speak.

“Hi, mum. Thanks for dropping whatever you were doing.”

“It’s no problem, honey. What’s going on?”

“Well, I was thinking about what you said earlier. If the offer still stands, I would like to bring a date.” I choose my words with care, making sure not to use pronouns before I actually intend to.

“Daniel! That’s great news. Of course the offer still stands. I’m so excited that—”

“Mum. Hold on. Let me say what I need to say before you decide if my date is still invited.”

That shuts her up. Phil squeezes my hand under the table and sends me a reassuring look when I glance over. On screen, my mum watches me expectantly.

“My date, um, wouldn’t be a girl.”

In the next five seconds, my mum’s face goes through a series of emotions. First she seems confused, then surprised, then anxious, but finally settles on calm.

“The offer still stands. I would love to meet your boyfriend.” I notice that she seems barely fazed by the word. “And I’m sure the rest of the family would too. So long as he makes you happy and isn’t a serial killer, I think everyone will be just fine.”

As she talks, I can literally feel the weight melting off my shoulders. I was so nervous about the hundreds of ways that this could have gone poorly that I never actually considered she would be so nonchalant about it.

“Thanks, mum.” I can feel tears prickling my eyes. Phil is positively beaming beside me. “Your support means so much.”

“I love you, Dan, no matter who you love.” She looks pensive for a moment. “It’s Phil, isn’t it?”

Her question catches me off guard and I can feel heat my cheeks instantly flush with heat. I nod sheepishly.

“How long?” She asks curiously.

“Um, like September.” She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Of 2009.”

“YOU’VE BEEN DATING PHIL FOR THAT LONG AND DIDN’T TELL US?!” She shouts, but she doesn’t sound angry, just shocked.

“I told you I didn’t buy that ‘friends’ crap!” Adrian shouts from the next room.

“LANGUAGE, ADRIAN!” Phil guffaws at the exchange beside me. “Is that Phil I hear in the background?”

“Yeah, Phil’s here.” I jerk my head slightly and Phil shuffles into the shot.

“Hi Mrs. Howell!” Phil waves cheerfully with the hand that isn’t still attached to mine.

“Hello, Phil. I look forward to getting to properly meet you in person soon. So you boys have really been dating for…” Her face scrunches up as she tries to do the calculations.

“Nearly two years?” I fill in for her. “Yeah.”

Her expression turns slightly disappointed and when she speaks, she sounds sadder. “Why did you tell us sooner?”

I knew this would come up. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about since Phil and I started talking.

“Well, at first, I didn’t want to mention it because it was so new. And then when I went to visit him the first time, I was afraid that if I told you what we actually were, you wouldn’t let me get on a train to go halfway across the country to meet my boyfriend. Then I was planning to come to Manchester for uni and I didn’t want you to think I was moving to Manchester just to be with my boyfriend. And, well, since then, I guess I was just nervous and didn’t know how to talk about it or how you would react.”

I could see tears forming in my mum’s eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry that we’ve made you feel like you couldn’t confide in us. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like hiding this for so long. Please, don’t feel like you need to hide things from us in the future.”

“Thanks, mum.”

The conversation shifted to planning me and Phil’s trip. It takes a bit of negotiation, but we finally settle on us arriving the evening before my birthday and leaving two days after Cassidy’s wedding. I can’t tell who is more excited: my mum or Phil.

When the call finally disconnects, I fly into Phil’s arm. He wraps his arms around me tightly. “It went well. It went really well, Phil.” I’m smiling so wide that my cheeks hurt and Phil pokes my dimple, which is more of a crater than a dimple at the moment.

“It did, Bear. I’m happy for you.” He leans in and kisses my lips softly. He slowly presses long, sloppy kisses along my jaw and the mood shifts into something more heated. When his lips return to mine, the kiss is more urgent. I move my legs to straddle his lap, pulling my shirt off in the process.

Phil works his way back up my jaw and lightly pulls my earlobe into his mouth. “I’d say let’s move this to the bed, but I noticed that someone left the entire law library on my bed.” His voice is husky and his deep chuckle vibrates along my neck, which melts me into an almost incoherent state of bliss.

“Couch?”

next part

#iminclinedtowriting #established relationship #phan #phanfic #2011 phan #coming out

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tomhsparker · 7 years ago

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missing you - tom holland imagine #4

about : Tom is away at SDCC while promoting Spider-Man Homecoming. Things start to go downhill as a Facetime call ensues and jealousy arises.

Warnings : a teeny bit sad. drunk tom!

The ID caller showed up on your phone and you grinned, flopping down onto the bed as you answered the call. Tom’s smiling face filled your screen and you giggled, greeting him with a simple ‘hello Thomas’.

“Y/N! It’s crazy here!” Tom shouted, “I’ve never seen anything like this before! There were thousands of people on the panel it was insane!”

“Are you having fun?” You asked, a small yet tired simper reaches your lips.

“Loads! Everyone’s amazing! Laura is here, Jacob is here, Tony is here, oh and Zendaya is here too!” He continued to ramble on about how everyone had secretly arrived to the convention but your heart sank at her name.

Tom was an extremely sweet person, and he was definitely good-looking. Your biggest fear from letting him leave to Atlanta was him finding someone new. What if he found someone else prettier, smarter and better than you? Maybe he was already tired of you.

And it didn’t help that Zendaya was a part of your worry. She was the kind of girl you’d always want to be. She was gorgeous and successful, not to mention extremely talented. You let your insecurity get the best of you sometimes and you would always feel a bit glum whenever you saw them together. However, Tom wasn’t aware that you felt that way.

“Isn’t Zendaya pretty?” you piped up randomly, playing with the hem of your sweatpants.

“Yes, she is. Why?” Tom sounded confused. He looked at something behind the camera and he laughed, slapping his chest.

“Oh, that’s amazing, Z,” he chuckled before looking back at you on the phone, “sorry babe, were you saying something?”

You were about to say something before he interrupted you, laughing again and talking to someone you could only assume was Zendaya. You could hear her laughter too and you flinched, feeling annoyed. Anger and jealousy was already bubbling inside of you. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at how he was so oblivious to you on the phone as he dropped his phone to his side so all you could see was his pants.

This was the first time in days he had facetimed you, and you felt so put off by how he wasn’t even paying attention to you.

Pissed off, you pressed the end call button hardly, ending the facetime. You put your phone beside you and picked up your laptop, trying to calm yourself down.

It seemed like the world wanted to rub everything in your face when you clicked on a random song on your spotify. Everything I’m Not by The Veronicas came on and you gasped, throwing up your arms in anger.

“Oh, come on!” You yelled at no one in particular.

The song blasted on your speakers and you sighed, letting it play.

Your phone beeped once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Tom’s face popped up on the screen, indicating a call coming in from him.

You ignored it, letting the ringtone play amongst the loud tunes of The Veronicas.

It stopped for a few seconds before ringing again. This time you decided to decline the call.

A text came in. You peeked.

Tom x : babe, what’s up? u just hung up?

10. 50 pm

Tom x : y/n? Im gonna call u again.

10. 52 pm

Tom x : why did u decline the call?

10. 58 pm

Tom x : did i do something wrong?

11. 05 pm

You snorted, picking up your phone and typing a quick reply.

Me : idk ask zendaya lmao

Me : im gonna sleep. Have fun at comic con.

Just as you were about to put away your phone, it vibrated.

Tom x : I think I know what’s going on. Are you jealous of Z?

11.08 pm

Tom x : I hope you know I love you, and that I will never eye another girl that’s not you. I understand how you feel, I get sad whenever I think of all the other boys that are with you everyday. So i dont blame you. But you can trust me love. I promise.

11.09 pm

Tom x : z and i are just friends, nothing more babe. Im way too in love with you. Also im sorry if ive been distant. I miss you so much and i havent been able to really talk to you. Ive been very busy with work and everything else i just idk i feel really guilty now.

11.11 pm

Tom x : call me back when u wanna talk. Im sorry, i love you. Xx

11.13 pm

You sighed, giving in. You could tell he was feeling really crappy about it as you watched a livestream of the convention. Marvel was holding a livestream for the interviews and you saw Tom pop up in the screen when you opened the website.

His eyes were downcast even though he had a small smile on his face. Tom was less energetic and gave the interviewer half-assed answers. He kept crossing and uncrossing his arms and he fidgeted a lot on his feet.

His iPhone was gripped tightly in his hand, and every few seconds he went to check it.

Probably for my reply, you thought.

When the interviewer ended, you saw him walk away from the camera. The interviewer was about to interview Lupita Nyong’o next when another text from Tom came in.

Tom x : love i really am sorry. maybe u went to sleep already. Im sorry. I love you. Goodnight. Xx

11.25 pm

“Meh screw it,” you mumbled, pressing the call icon on his contact name.

He picked it up immediately after the third ring.

“Hello?” he said quickly.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, slumping on the bed, “sorry, I just got jealous. I shouldn’t have hung up on you like that.

“It’s just..I miss you so much Tom. And we haven’t facetimed in so long and.. I don’t know I was pretty pissed off by how you weren’t paying attention to me.”

“I know, I know,” you could hear his guilt from across the line, “I’m really sorry. There’s just been a lot going on right now.”

You sighed, “okay, now go and have fun. We can talk more later. I’m not mad at you anymore so don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, I’ll be fine,” You lied through your teeth, even mustering a fake smile.

Tom hummed, before speaking again, “I’ll call you when you wake up. I love you so much, Y/N. Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight,” you mumbled back as you hit the ‘end call’.

Grabbing a pillow from the top of the bed, you clutched it tightly into your chest as sobs began to rack through your body. The tears didn’t stop flowing, even after half an hour.

You’d think he would notice that you really weren’t okay.

You missed him so much.

And it already felt like, to you, he was slowly drifting away.

The next morning was horrendous. You woke up to the feel of your soggy pillow and puffy eyes. Rubbing your face, you snuggled further into your duvet.

There was no way you were going out today. Your heart felt the heaviest it had felt in a long time and nothing seemed to motivate you to get out of bed.

You missed him too much.

Making calls to everyone, you apologised for not feeling well and rescheduled everything.

Nothing mattered more than the ache in your heart. If your mind wasn’t in the game, there would be no point in getting into the game in the first place.

You decided to check your notifications and was surprised by the amount of texts Tom had sent in.

Tom x : Good morning, babe. I hope you slept well. I’m out here in San Diego, in some bar. Missing you. 💛

7.30 am

Tom x : I hope you’re not angry anymore. It’s been bothering me the whole day. I’m still sorry.

7.45 am

Tom x : baEb i lpve you si much…….im sorry yoi think i luv zebdaya….i dont… i love you im sorry

8.30 am

Tom x : jacOb says in Drunk! Haha@ he keeps tellinf me that i should go homE

8.35 am

Tom x : i sAid wherE? LonDon? He saiD no You IdioT the Hotel

8.36 am

Tom x : i saiD it aInt HoME UNLESS y/n is wit me

8.38 am

Tom x : jeusu chrisy i lovw you

9.00 am

Tom x : i jusT PUKED I WISH YORE HERE Y/N YOU MAKe me FEEL BETTER

9.28 am

Tom x : I MISS YOUUUY

9.35 am

You stared at the screen, taking it all in.

Tom got drunk last night.

Yet, all his words seemed so sincere. Just before you could exit the chat, a new message came in.

Instead, this was from Harrison.

Haz O : hey y/n, i think you probably read the drunk texts tom has been sending. just want to tell you. tom has been drinking a lot for the past 2 hours. he’s upset, y/n. after he puked on the sidewalk, he cried. he cried about how much he missed you and how he didn’t deserve you. that you lie when you say you’re okay. he said that it would be easier if you both broke up. you could find someone better. so, stop being mad at tom. there's nothing going on between z and tom. If they did, i would've told you. he’s feeling so guilty for no reason.

You felt hot tears gathering at the side of your eyes. He was beating himself up because of your jealousy. Guilt took over you as you fumbled to type out a quick reply. A plan was already forming in your head and although it involved a lot of money, you knew it would help in fixing this problem.

It was probably too reckless and spontaneous, but you had enough of missing Tom and clearly, Tom was sick of missing you too.

You : I’m getting on the next flight to San Diego. Take care of Tom for me. x

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one-shots #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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room3voluntary · 7 years ago

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In meds we trust

I was in the toilet when I heard a polite knock at my door. 'Are you in Maddie? A man’s voice floated through the door. I was only in there looking at my face. Well, the chemical caused acne breakout that used to be my face. Urgh. I opened the door. 'I just have some paperwork to fill in if that's ok?' I realised he might be a junior doctor and he was as polite and his knock. I grabbed them from his hand and it was the usual. 2 pieces of paper, each with situation statements which I had to confirm with a circle. Never, rarely, some days, several days, always. Question 3 really got me. 'Do you talk to yourself while you're alone? What type of question is that ?'I asked aloud. He asked why and I said how do you know. 'How do you know if you talk to yourself while you're alone? That's like asking if a tree falls in the wood when no one is around does anyone hear?' He started laughing. 'I see your point' he said 'I know that I talk to myself' me too. I circled 'several days'. I think everyone does. He thanked me and collected the papers. He informed me I have formulation meeting tomorrow. A formulation meeting is where everyone gets together and discusses what to do with you. It sounds so clinical. How do you solve a problem like Maddie? I've been a puzzle quite a few times.

I was sat at my desk when a seriously lady walked in, carrying a briefcase and a warm smile she perched on the end of my bed. 'My name is Dr Khatri'.

First things first we discussed the events which led me here but after a while she clocked my note pad. She asked me what I was writing so I explained. It was partly this, partly my book and partly serious subjects. 'I wish I was as creative as you' she said. We then continued trawling through my history and uttered the words I knew were coming but still filled me with dread. 'I think you will benefit from an antipsychotic'

In 2008, after the first serious admission i had, I left hospital at went back to college. I had my second psychotic breakdown 6 months into my first year at art college. It was now September and my first day back. i was so nervous but everyone was so nice, within a few hours i got my confidence back, i was ready to begin. I stared at the canvas in front of me and nothing happened. Creativity used to flow out of my hands. My mother was told I was gifted. I never saw a blank canvas I saw one hundred visual stories to be told. I picked up the charcoal to trigger some sort of idea but nothing happened. Then it hit me, I was normal. I was functioning but i'd sacrificed my creativity for it. Id sacrificed part of myself.

When you're young you're told to believe in you're dreams. You can achieve anything you want but as you get older you realise this isn't true and it takes hard work and sacrifices. My goal was to be normal and for that i realised I'd sacrificed part of my soul. Through the following year, I noticed not only had I sacrificed my soul, also my identity and it was down to a little blue pill called aripiprazole. aripiprazole was an antipsychotic and two years later when I had a trial coming off it, I came back. My soul re-entered my body, whatever what repressing me left and I got my sparkle again. I didn't want to be locked away again.

'It's an antipsychotic called olanzapine' she said covering an awkward silence in which I realised I hadn't replied. 'I understand you have tried aripiprazole and quetiapine in the past yes?' I had but they were both the same, they stole who I was but quetiapine had made me physically ill as well. bad allergic reaction.

'What are the side effects?' I asked when I finally got out of my thoughts. 'There can be weight gain as a side effect' i knew this. Not only that I knew olanzapine was the worst one for it. I felt sick. I am Maddie and I am skinny. That's part of me. Throughout my life I've had patches where I've been a bit funny about my weight and for this reason I felt like I'd been given a death sentence. Logic once more dictates that this was ridiculous, but me and logic aren't always friends. I'm crazy and ill but at least I'm skinny and exciting. I'm not pretty enough to be fat. Medication weight is entirely different to normal weight. It's all on the stomach. You see it, a big round pouch. It's all on the stomach and flat in the eyes. I got one before, not big but it was there. People can be beautiful at any weight, size and shape but it made me so worried. My choice was be mad or be unhappy with how I look. I don't know what's worse. I know I was being dramatic, I know I was being shallow and vain but maybe It's what I deserved. 'Okay' I said. I wasn't really thinking. I'd already conceded to defeat to continue to participate in the decision. She asked if I had any more questions and smiled as she left. I smiled too.

I am not anti-medication. I am pro-medication. I'm already on some. There are so many people, mainly who suffer with depression I've found, who point blank refuse any meds. I understand, they worry for the same reason as me but no matter how good your diet is, no matter how many miles your run, sometimes you're serotonin will not play the game. There is no denying these factors help but sometimes you need a crutch, a little helping hand to get you through the day but prejudice and fear seem stronger than logic. 'You don't need pills, why would you want to put all those chemicals in your body?' Preaches the person who nearly blacks out on tequila every weekend before inhaling a gram of cocaine through to Sunday morning. 'You just need a distraction' says the person who’s never even had a cold in their life, never mind any other health problems.

It's a chemical imbalance: would you tell someone with diabetes it's a state of mind? And the same as diabetes, yes a diet can help, but you're not going to stop that imbalance by stopping their insulin. Ignorance causes suffering.

The reason for my reservations was my complicated past with this type of drug. After a short time of contemplating in silence I started to cry. I felt heartbroken. Everything I had tried, the struggle and determination I had fought to stay off them, I was back to where I was a few years ago. I had failed. My heart sank into my chest not only through disappointment but the knowledge she was probably right. I was being selfish too, my behaviour was also effecting the people around me, i had to be fixed. It was the most logical answer. I also knew that medication effects individuals in different ways but even that didn't help me. What could I do? I needed to formulate a plan of my own. Ferociously scribbled into my notebook cause and effect, feelings and frenzied suggestions but i knew deep down i was wrong.

I went to find a nurse. I wasn't good at this whole 'talking to someone' business, I can do it in my own, but I needed to say my thoughts out loud.

The ward has been busy. It was living up to a stereotype I tried to ignore. Sharon, the walker, was no longer wandering the hallways but yelping incoherently to herself in her room. Earlier a new girl was brought in by a flock of people who promptly tried to escape and hit her dad. I watched as she screamed and wet her self. I watched her violently thrashing as she was rugby tackled like a SWAT team by the staff and sedated. As we all shuffled off to our rooms as instructed by staff, I saw her legs were all bruised and bleeding. I saw her eyes too, she wasn't there.

I finally found a nurse to speak to. No, talk at. Through mascara stained rambling I explained. She said nothing. Finally she said 'don't worry about the weight gain, it doesn't happen to everyone'. What a pile of shit. Yes it does, it's the one that does it that most, im not an idiot. 'Tea is ready if you want some?' She said changing the subject and leaving. I didn't want some. I wasn't hungry. Probably because I knew soon that's all i'd be. Hungry and lost.

As the evening drifted on, it nearly time. I made my way to the treatment room like a prisoner on the way to the executioners block. I had to get rid of this negativity. i had to try. I slouched on the chair outside the treatment room, waiting for my name to be shouted. A few of the older and worse patients were watching TV. I looked at their facing staring blankly at the set. How do they do it? All of them are on antipsychotics and they just get on with it. That's all some of them do though, just stare at the TV in their pyjamas. I can't work out if they know what's going on or braver than me, stronger than me? Probably both, more so the latter.

I heard my name and got my meds. I saw a new little pink one, poking out of the crowd of pills in the paper cup. 'This is a new one for me. I'm excited for the sleep but not the weight gain!' I joked. She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. I took a deep breath and knock it back. Then nothing. I don't know what I expected. The whole world to change? To die? Everything was exactly the same. An hour passed and still nothing happened. I was just sat watching TV and very much still myself.

I got up to go to the kitchen and that's when I noticed the change. Fuzzy. Everything was fuzzy. From the floor tiles to door frames everything was like a slow slide show, doubled and swayed. I felt like static, my brain full of white noise. I stumbled into the kitchen but it was too bright so I abandoned my cup and made my way to my room. I felt as though i was walking through water. A 5 second journey turned into a 5 mile march of white corridor. I have spent more time in a drug fuelled trip wandering round hospital corridors than I have house parties this year.

I finally made it into bed and turned out the lights. Everything was better now. The white noise was quieter. Calm. The world has righted itself. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was my legs feeling hot against the bed sheet.

*****

I've just woke up. I can't get up

It was two hours later and I was still struggling to move. Every twitch of my leg and flex of my arm made me feel sick. I needed the toilet, I had to move. My mouth was sandpaper dry, I needed some water, I had to move. I eventually pulled myself up and felt better I thought- until I stood up. It felt like my heart was going to explode through my chest. All my extremities tingled. I edged my way to the toilet using the wall as a frame and finally reached the bowl. That was the best piss I ever had. I looked over the mirror. I looked awful. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the veins pulsing across my eyelids and in my reflection that is what I saw. Blood shot eyes, the negative of what I saw in the blink, like a fingerprint. I got up and shuffled to the door.

The hallway was white. Too white. My heart felt like it was beating into my legs, each step a slow and heavy thump. The pressure in my chest was radiating down from my head which was locked in an invisible vice. The heaviness of my head led the way as I went to find help. 'I don't feel very well' I said when I finally reached the dining room hatch. One of the nurses took my arm 'oh dear' she said 'Coincidence has it, a doctor is here, I'll get him to take a look at you, don't worry'. I lent in her shoulder and she grabbed me gently by the arm and steadily walked me to the treatment room.

wilted on the bed, I blinked and there stood a figure leaning over me, face shrouded by the strip light behind, turning his features into a silhouette which was crowned by a halo. My eyes adjusted to the lights and distortion melted away. The silhouette was now replaced with a dark haired doctor. He looked early 30s. Quite cute actually. First attractive person I'd seen in ages and i was in this state. The nurse from before leaned over and pulled my top up. I then also realised I had my tits out. Great. Faces of Meth, faces of Maddie, there was very little distinction. 'Hold up your arms, put then together onto your chest and lift them up like chicken wings' he said. What. He must have seen my expression of disbelief and confusion as he showed me how. 'I'm not going to press on your elbows and you have to try and keep them up, okay?' He was very authoritative yet polite. I liked it. From there proceeded a number of resistance tests, pulling and pressing on various limbs. After a while he pulled out his stethoscope and listened to my chest before checking my blood pressure. Everything was a little bit high. 'You are experiencing some very strong side effects but you are okay but we'll mention this to the consultant. Try and get some rest' Rest. That is all anyway says but it doesn't seem to be working. The nurse helped me back up and I hauled myself back to bed.

'Maddie can i come in?' The staff nurse shouted the door. 'You have your formulation meeting at 1 o'clock is that okay?' It was 12:30. Oh god, I had so much to say, so much to explain, so much persuading to do and I couldn't in this state. I was struggling slur through a sentence. mind fuzzy. I started to panic, the kick of adrenaline woke me up and I pulled on some clothes and lumbered to meeting room. It was time to formulate my formulation, see where my path was headed next, and I was not prepared.

When I walked in I was greeted by four ladies all sat in perfect symmetry, two on each side. There was my mum, a staff nurse, the psychiatrist and a lady I didn't know. I looked at my mother who couldn't hide her concern at the state I'd walked in. 'I don't want to take olanzapine again, please don't make me' I pleaded before anyone could even begin. 'It is your body and I can see you are not well' I looked at Dr Khatri 'They have had an unusually adverse effect on you. In the pasts you have tried aripriprazole and quetiapine and there were not successful either. I don't think this medication is for you. I see no benefit to continuing' she smiled at me. 'Thank you' I replied. Thank you didn't even cut it, thank you for the bottom of my heart. A wave of relief washed over me. I said previously they are not good for me but no one had really listened. I have the symptoms, they fix the symptoms but they don't suit me. Antipsychotics are anti-Maddie. 'We have decided to the observe and see how you go' she continued 'we will wait for the increase in lamotrogine to take effect and if you manage to have two nights full rest, you can go on weekend leave and if that is successful we can discuss discharge' even better! This was the plan. This is want I wanted. I struggled to hold back tears as I thanked her. The lady was finally introduced to me. She was my work liaison officer. The thing is, and the thing you may not believe is, I am full time employed. Up until a while ago I was just like you. A Starbucks drinking, Tesco raiding, selfie taking, endless consumer. I was the one who accidentally walked into you in a heaving pool of people in primark. I am the person who sat opposite you on the train. A 'mutual friend', a 'someone you might know'.

Mental illness believes in equality. It doesn't judge or have prejudice. It will simply strike any of us at any moment. A monster lurking in the dark.

For a while I’d felt like my life had been stagnant and now it was the most static and stagnant it’s ever been. I needed to get out.

For the rest of the meeting I stayed slumped in my chair, the drugs still flowing through my veins. I watched them speak, their mouths moved but blurred sounds came out from far away. Dr Khatri hand grabbed mine and shook it, our faces smiling simultaneously. The plan was complete. The formulation; I just had to sleep. Not that hard right?

*****

I’m trying to sleep but It’s raining. It’s raining so hard. I overheard something about a storm earlier, about the sky turning yellow? I don’t know. It’s not just me that’s gone crazy recently, it’s the whole world. I couldn’t sleep though it like the slow motion crush of a car bonnet crumpling into a wall in a crash test simulation, dummy falling and bending inside.

Suddenly silence. I flipped open the curtain next to me, only blackness peered back in. No rain.

From behind me I heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps down the corridor and quickly flung myself into bed and pretended to be asleep. A few seconds later I heard the shutter fold up, the flash of a light and felt the eyes of a nurse observe me for a moment before moving on. I heard the shutter slap down I rolled over. Try again.

I lay in the darkness, it buzzing around me like bees trying to shut down. Even if I don’t sleep even if they just think I have slept I can leave. I wasn’t going to move but then I heard the tapping. It was coming from outside of my window. Tap, tap, tap. I got up and went to the bathroom and slid under the sink, curling into a ball. Tap, tap, tap. I closed my eyes and breathed.

I wont tell them about this

#olanzapine #mental health #mental illness #bipolor #medication #meds #antipsychotics #psychiatry #psychiatric hospital #psychiatric mental health nursing #mental heath awareness #diary #mania #psychosis

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gemvictorfromtheponyverse · 7 years ago

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Love at First Lizard Chapter 2

Finally! Chapter 2 of mine and wonderful @green-love-paternoster gay masterpiece!

Chapter 1 of this Vastra/Jenny Vet AU can be found here: https://gemvictorfromtheponyverse.tumblr.com/post/159010298794/love-at-first-lizard-chapter-one

Credit goes to always lovely @kelticscribe for helping with the Scottish translations in this chapter! ❤

And as promised, here is Chapter 2:

The clock on the kitchen wall indicated that it was currently 8:30 in the morning. Vastra stood there leaning forward on the kitchen counter, already dressed in her regular casual weekend attire, consisting of a simple short-sleeved white button-up shirt, faded gray skinny jeans that accentuated the fine shapely curves of her legs, and black calf-length leather boots. Her favorite studded black leather jacket and plaid scarf were both hung on the back of a nearby chair.

A cold, half-empty cup of green tea was laid on the table beside Vastra’s green, purple, and yellow motorcycle helmet, adorned with three large reptilian-like crests that protruded from the surface. The cup was labeled with the words, “Looney Lizard Lady”, written in a swirly childish font; It had been a gift from her friend and fellow veterinarian, John Smith, at a company Christmas party two years ago. While Vastra had outwardly rolled her eyes at his constant teasing about her so-called affinity with reptiles, she was nonetheless genuinely grateful for his friendship.

It was an extremely rare phenomenon to see the anti-morning Scottish woman awake so early on a Sunday morning when she had no work, yet here she was anyway, nervously fumbling with her phone as she stared at a certain number glowing on her contact list. Strangely enough, she hasn’t been able to sleep properly within the past five days and deep down inside her mind, she knew that it had something to do with a particular young girl whose pet lizard she helped to treat several days prior that week. Watching the girl–Jenny–leave the clinic, Vastra felt as if the whole weight of the world had come crashing down upon her, and she had to resist the urge to go running out after her. Ever since that fateful Wednesday, Vastra has found it to be utterly impossible to focus on anything else because of this accursed beautiful girl, who seemed to haunt her mind without any rest during her every waking hour. The powerful tingling sensation she had felt that day still lingered on her hand where Jenny touched it, an enduring reminder of the profound connection they had shared together. Vastra would mentally replay the episode of Jenny’s visit over and over again, allowing her to fully memorize all of Jenny’s physical details including her enchanting brown eyes, her blindingly bright smile, the little beauty mark located near her left upper lip, the lovely roundness of her face, and the way the light reflected brilliantly off of her dark brown hair. Never in her life did she thought that a creature so divinely magnificent and perfect could even exist on earth.To make matters worse, her infatuation with Jenny was actually the worst kept secret among her other co-workers at the clinic, who would often catch her daydreaming in her office with a spaced-out expression on her face. Whenever she heard someone come in through the front door, Vastra would immediately rush into the reception room with the hope that it was Jenny, only to be severely disappointed each time. It was as if the girl had somehow cast a spell on her, effectively captivating her entire body, heart, and soul, from which Vastra struggled strenuously to break free.Vastra tried her damn hardest to hide her feelings and act like everything was normal by being her usual condescendingly grumpy self, but she knew that it was a completely futile effort on her part. Nothing she do or say could stop John and Clara from continuing their bets and whispering gossips behind her back; For once, however, John and Clara also expressed a benign sense of pity towards Vastra, because they could clearly see just how much Jenny means to her. Although the two of them might be total assholes and drive Vastra crazy sometimes, they were still able to rally at their friend’s side whenever she needed some extra support.

The only small consolation was that Vastra had fortunately managed to get Jenny’s phone number before she left. She honestly had no idea what to do next with that information, which now led her to this present situation of contemplating the pros and cons of calling Jenny that Sunday. A flurry of doubts and contradictions swirled around in her mind: What if she’s busy? What if she doesn’t pick up? What if she thinks I’m a stalker? What if she secretly hates my guts? What if she changed her identity and fled the country???

Suddenly overwhelmed by all the negatively discouraging voices in her head, Vastra angrily shoved her phone away across the table before hiding her face behind her hands in utter exasperation. Vastra felt like a coward and a fool to think that she could just talk to Jenny when even the mere sound of her name was enough to give her a goddamn heart attack. The chances that Jenny would view Vastra as anything more than “the looney veterinarian lady who looked at my lizard”, nevermind sharing the same romantic feelings for her, was far less than one in a billion. Bloody hell, she doesn’t even know if Jenny swings that way for God’s sake! Therefore, it soon dawned on Vastra that perhaps she had made a terribly grave mistake in regards to this whole Jenny debacle.

Then unexpectedly, there was another voice that called out to Vastra from the very deep recesses of her subconsciousness. It sounded rather familiar, and as Vastra continued to concentrate on the voice, she eventually recognized it to be her father’s voice! Her father’s voice was trying to remind her of an important piece of advice that he once gave her long ago, when she was just a wee lass back in Scotland: Love works in mysterious ways, my darling daughter. The best thing to do is simply follow your heart and seize the opportunity right in front of you, lest you miss out on something that can grant you a lifetime of happiness.

Vastra couldn’t help the small, bittersweet smile that crept upon her lips; Good old Papa was still looking out for her even after all these years, she mused. Vastra’s father had always been an incredibly wise man, and she really didn’t want to disappoint him by letting this golden opportunity slip away so easily. Fueled by a newfound surge of fearlessness, Vastra quickly retrieved her phone and proceeded to hit the call button on her phone.This was it, there was no going back from here. The shallow rhythm of her breathing and incessant pounding of her heart filled Vastra’s ears, as she anxiously waited for Jenny to answer at any second. Her foot tapped vigorously along to the ringing tune playing on the other side of the line.

“Hello? Who am I talking to? Hold on” After a few moments, a tired sounding voice spoke up on the other side, falling quiet for a little while before picking up once more. “Sorry Miss McIntosh. Had to check the caller ID. So, how can I help you?” Vastra could almost hear Jenny smiling on the other line, waiting for an answer.

Vastra really hoped that the heavy, relieved sigh that escaped from between her lips wasn’t noticeable to Jenny on the other end of the line. Step one accomplished! God, how absolutely wonderful did it felt to finally hear the sweetly angelic music that was Jenny’s voice again.

The sheer fact that Jenny even picked up momentarily stunned Vastra, who started to speak but hesitated. Vastra had to rack her brain to find a valid response, and uncharacteristically stammered when she said, “Uhh…err…um….H-Hello, Miss Flint, yes it is I, Miss McIntosh, the vet from the clinic in case you don’t remember me. I was just calling you to ask if um….if you’re having a good morning today?”

Vastra’s entire face cringed as soon as she uttered those words. Ugh, you stupid, stupid idiot! Are you trying to make it sound so bloody fucking obvious?!

“Oh. Yes I am having a good morning. I’m sorry I was a little slow earlier, I’m normally an earlier riser. Unfortunately I have not been sleeping very well lately, so I’ve been trying to catch up on lost sleep when I’m not working weekends.” There was a short pause, and then Jenny spoke once more. “And you ? Are you having a good morning?”

“Splendid!” Replied Vastra, sounding a little too enthusiastic than she intended, causing her to wince yet again. Bloody hell, woman, pull yourself together already! “Errr, what I mean,um, is that it’s truly splendid to hear you are doing well this morning. Despite the fact that you’ve been unable to sleep much lately, of course, which I am sincerely sorry about. Although, I do appreciate your kindness in asking me how I am….my morning is also good, thank you. Dare I say, maybe even better now that I’ve finally managed to make your acquaintance.” Vastra unconsciously bit her lip, though she was barely able to prevent a silly, indulgent schoolgirl smile from breaking out across her face. She then realized that she had been rambling unnecessarily, and decided to quickly get on with business by saying, “Well then, Miss Flint, perhaps it would be best if I get straight to the point with you. It was my intention to call you this weekend to ask about Greeny, and I just wanted to be sure that I got the right number. So, how is Greeny faring since your visit to the clinic?”

“Oh, Greeny. Yes…my pet lizard…” Once more Jenny trailed off, before quickly picking up again. “Yes. Sorry, tired. Me brain is being stupid. Greeny is doing better than ever. Your tips about the heat lamp was just what Greeny needed, it seems. I haven’t had time to pick up any more plants for him but it’s definitely on my to-do list. If you want to….and only if you want to….then maybe you could come over and see for yourself?”

Vastra very nearly dropped her phone when Jenny said that, and her hand instinctively tightened its grip on the phone with enough force to break it in half.

“P-Pardon?” Gasped a highly bewildered Vastra, who felt her pulse rate increased dramatically due to the shock caused by Jenny’s words. “Can you repeat that, please?”

Vastra was entirely convinced that her ears must be deceiving her, as she believed that there was no possible way Jenny could have mean what she thought she meant.

“Uh…I just…maybe it was stupid. I understand if you’re too busy and everything, but I just thought maybe you’d like to come over and see how Greeny is doing?” Jenny stumbled over her words and Vastra couldn’t help but think she sounded almost hopeful.

It took a while for Jenny’s words to sink into Vastra’s brain, leading her to reply with,“Oh….Oh! Please forgive my uh confusion, Miss Flint, it’s just that no client has ever invited me to their home like that before. Though if you insist, I suppose that I can make time in my schedule to come over and check on Greeny. You’re lucky that I don’t have to work on Sundays.” Vastra silently pumped her fist in the air at how well she handled that response. Her glee was short lived, nonetheless, for she then realized that she have absolutely no knowledge about Jenny’s place of residence. “Err….however, I’m afraid that I don’t have a single idea as to where you live. An address would be most helpful, if you are willing to provide me with one.”

“Oh…uh…yes I’m sorry if it’s a bother. I normally work on Sundays, but today I don’t, so I thought it’d be a good idea. Greeny could benefit from it, and I’d know that he really is doing better.” She paused to catch her breath.. “Oh! And my address, it’s 222 Great Portland Street, the Armitage Apartment buildings. It’s close to Hyde Park near the River Thames.”

Meanwhile, Vastra had ran to her bedroom drawer and frantically searched around for a notepad and pen. She carefully wrote down the address as Jenny spoke before reassuring her,“Trust me, Miss Flint, this is honestly no trouble to me at all whatsoever. In fact…,”Vastra paused to consult the watch on her wrist, “…would it be okay with you if I come over now, since I am free this morning?”

“Oh yes…absolutely.” Jenny sounded just the tiniest bit hesitant as she spoke. “I’m just fixing some things in my apartment, but you can come over whenever.”

“Excellent! I shall indeed be there shortly, Miss Flint. It’s been a real pleasure talking to you again….goodbye for now!” Thus, with that final farewell, Vastra abruptly hung up the call.

Vastra tucked her phone away into her jean pocket and leaned heavily against the drawer at her back as she tried to regain her breath after talking with Jenny. That phone call could have been a huge utter disaster, but miraculously she was somehow able to pull it off…..albeit barely. God knows that every inch of her body was on fire the entire time, and she felt as though her heart was going to burst out of her chest just from that one simple interaction. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever expected Jenny to suggest that she make a personal visit to her actual home . Damn it, if she can’t even handle a little phone call with Jenny, then how the hell will she be capable of physically seeing the girl face-to-face at her home without totally self destructing on the spot! She was going to fuck up so badly in front of Jenny for sure, and the thought of that really frightened her more than anything. Vastra was beginning to consider potential excuses that she can use in order to not go, but all of them instantly disappeared when she caught sight of Jenny’s address that she had written on a notepad. Her eyebrows became scrunched upon her forehead and she bit her lip, a wave of guilt washing over her as she knew that Jenny was looking forward to their meeting later. Vastra soon found herself painfully torn between growing a spine and going to Jenny’s home anyways despite the risks, or breaking her promise to Jenny like a lily-livered chicken; She wanted to cry out in frustration due to the raging internal conflict that was threatening to effectively tear her apart. Why must this godforsaken girl suddenly walk into her life and completely complicate everything! It was during this dark hour, that salvation then came to Vastra in the form of her father’s disembodied voice once again.

…..Follow your heart and seize the opportunity right in front of you…..

Those words ignited a fiery spark of courage within Vastra’s heart, as she became firmly determined to seize the opportunity right in front of her, just like her father had taught her. Life was too short to waste on worrying over frivolous doubts, and this could be her only chance of at least starting something deeper with Jenny. She would never be able to forgive herself if she had simply let her fears scare her out of pursuing a relationship that could change her life forever. Deciding that there was no time to lose, Vastra immediately went to grab her leather jacket, scarf, motorcycle helmet, and keys, before exiting her house to approach the motorcycle parked beside the sidewalk. Her resolve was strong as steel and absolutely nothing could break it now. The Scottish woman could soon be seen zooming down the street, as she was embarked on a personally sacred mission to heal a lizard and get the girl.

—-

Hanging up the phone, Jenny felt as though she could hardly breath. She couldn’t believe that she just had invited her pet lizard’s extremely hot veterinarian to come into her home and take a look at said lizard. In her home , where she could observe all of her attractive Scottish glory. Even though she hoped she had sounded collected on the phone, calm and collected was the last thing she was feeling, and she was quite sure that she would explode from pure, untempered desire lest she moved right that minute. She had to get her apartment ready and properly presentable for Vastra, because a good first impression was extremely crucial in this situation.

Quickly, she got up on her feet, trying to gather everything that was out of place and putting them back as sufficiently as she could while still keeping some efficiency. She had been meaning to spend the day cleaning up the apartment anyway, because she hated when it got too dirty, but now she only had an hour, two at most, to do a day’s worth of work. Fortunately, if there was anything Jenny could do adequately, it was cleaning. Her first priority were the tea cups;She searched out all the abandoned tea cups in the house, picking them up from bookshelves and the coffee table and the floor, everywhere she’d abandoned them, before carrying them to the dishwasher, and putting them in there until it was filled.

When she was done with the cups, the books came next. As much as Jenny liked to drink tea, she also enjoyed reading, and therefor, there were books laying everywhere as well. With the speed of a seasoned professional, she picked up one paperback after another, gathering them in her arms and lining them back in the bookshelves. She made sure they were put back in a correctly organized order, and once she was done, she smiled at her handiwork.

Cleaning her apartment always felt great, and it was even better now that she’d done it in record time, too. More importantly, it felt reassuring to know that Vastra would be coming into a clean, neatly organised apartment. Standing there, looking at her beautifully spotless apartment, she suddenly wondered what she should do next. Lifting her arm a little, she caught onto how much her armpit smelled, and decided that she definitely need to take a shower next. Just like her apartment couldn’t be dirty, she herself couldn’t be smelling like a trash can.

Swiftly, she made a beeline for the bathroom, plucking some new clothes out of the drawer with care as she once more thought about Vastra, the gorgeous veterinarian visiting her apartment later. Still completely immersed in her romantic daydreaming, she retrieved a short black skirt and cute white top that might be slightly too tight, before popping into the shower to make herself as clean and sweet smelling as possible.Ten minutes later, Jenny came out of the shower, a towel wrapped tightly around her freshly moist body as she made her way over to her bedroom to get dressed.

Passing by the window, she suddenly caught sight of someone coming down the road on a motorbike. The person driving the vehicle was wearing a frankly ridiculous looking helmet with some kind of lizard-like crests on the top in the most obtrusive colours. Jenny was absolutely positive that such a helmet could even be seen from all the way up in outer space!

Jenny was still laughing about the truly quite flamboyant headgear, when the mysterious rider, to Jenny’s great surprise, stopped outside her apartment. More interested than before, Jenny kept looking as the rider jumped off the motorcycle and removed the helmet and goggles, and….Jenny almost fainted dead in her towel as she then saw that it was Vastra who was the unknown rider. For God’s sake, why can’t this woman just give her a fucking break for once already!

Feeling suddenly panicked, heart caught in her throat as she tried to process the fact that Vastra had a motorcycle and a leather jacket, and was on her way up to her apartment, Jenny rushed to find her clothes and put them on. After blindly fumbling around, entirely unfocused, for at least five minutesl she finally got hold of the skirt and top and put them on, getting dressed just in time to hear the doorbell ringing out in the hallway. Not thinking about anything else but Vastra standing in a leather jacket outside her door, Jenny hurriedly ran across the apartment, almost ripping the door off its hinges in her rush to open it, just a little too excited finally see Vastra again.

Vastra stood in the hallway, hand raised as if she was about to knock on the door, and carrying a small plastic bag in her other hand. All of her earlier bravado seemingly vanished into thin air when she caught sight of Jenny after she had opened the door. She suddenly couldn’t breath as her eyes tried to refocus themselves on the mind-boggling vision that was Jenny, dressed in a form-fitting white tank top that revealed just the right amount of cleavage, a black mini skirt, and thick strands of dripping wet hair hanging down her head. Vastra could feel the lingering steam of the shower practically radiating off of Jenny’s body, which now floated towards her face, hitting her head-on like a sensually humid tropical breeze. Her lips were impossibly dry, prompting her to quickly lavish them with her tongue. Even though the temperature outside had been rather chilly, Vastra found herself getting increasingly hotter with every passing second that she remained staring at Jenny, and she was certain that she was going to end up spontaneously combusting anytime soon. Vastra also noticed the innocently welcoming smile that appeared on Jenny’s face, causing her to wonder if Jenny was somehow aware of the bewitching effects she had on her by wearing such an outfit. Her hair, her cleavage, her curves, her legs…..Jenny was clearly a walking embodiment of lustful temptation and poor, gay Vastra didn’t stood a chance against her. Goddamn it, just when she thought that she had everything under control, Jenny had to come along and throw one hell of a curveball at her! So utterly dumbstruck was Vastra, that she even forgot the words to speak and the ability to move her body. The only thing that her brain could think about was Jenny, who definitely was going to be the death of her as she knew it. Oh, what a strangely idyllic way to die that would be.

Jenny watched as Vastra stood before her, a tingling sensation gathering in her stomach as she admired the smooth, shiny leather encasing Vastra’s upper body. It was so different from what she had worn at the clinic, and Jenny found herself to be intrigued by this new side of Vastra that she wasn’t previously familiar with. She also had never seen anyone who looked that ravishing in a leather jacket, making the normal appeal of leather clothing even stronger. Still, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander a bit trying to imagine what she would look like underneath the smooth, shiny leather. She imagined hard muscles first, then she imagined spider thin, delicate limbs, and lastly she imagined what it might feel like to cup her hands around Vastra’s full round breasts, carefully squeezing the smooth flesh in her hands and enjoying Vastra’s reaction. Quickly dragging herself out of her fantasy, she realised that Vastra was still waiting for her to say something.

“Miss McIntosh!” She smiled, stepping out of the way so that Vastra could come inside. “Come in. It’s good to see that you could come so soon. I do hope it’s not a bother.”

There was no response from Vastra, who merely continued to stand there with a faraway expression fixed on her face.

“Uh, Miss McIntosh? Ma’am?” Carefully, Jenny prodded a finger into Vastra’s side, in an attempt to get her attention. “Are you alright?”

Her prodding seemed to work a little too well, as it startled Vastra and she began to blurt out, “I LOVE YO….oouuuuur wallpaper….that you have here, in your home!” Very narrowly dodging a bullet there, Vastra finally managed to reboot her legs and swiftly stepped into Jenny’s main living room.

Giving Vastra a slightly odd look, Jenny allowed herself to look at her dark blue wallpapers, too. She’d never given them much thought, but she supposed they could be worse. “Thanks. Though honestly, they’ve looked like that since I moved in. I meant to maybe change them someday, but they don’t really bother me and…well, I haven’t had enough time, I suppose.” She shrugged. She really did not care much about her wallpapers.

“They look perfectly fine to me, and this particular shade of blue does seem to bring everything together….,” remarked Vastra, observing the wallpaper for a while longer before ultimately forcing herself to turn back towards Jenny. Trying to ignore the deafening sound of her inner terrified screaming, Vastra flashed Jenny her most genial smile and said, “Well then, aren’t you looking rather properly rested this morning, Miss Flint. I can clearly see that you have quite an attractive, sunny complexion about you.”

Hearing the compliment, Jenny’s entire being lit up like a christmas tree, a big smile on her face as she followed Vastra inside, closing the door behind her. “Thank you! It is very nice of you to say that. Really, I’m glad you think I look better than I actually feel. So…um, what should we do now? Want some tea or coffee? You can put away your jacket if you want to.” She continued to smile, still entirely smittened by Vastra complimenting her complexion and feeling extremely happy as she gestured to the coat rack.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious about her appearance, Vastra nervously tugged at the collar of her leather jacket while switching her gaze in between Jenny and the coat rack. Although she was genuinely flattered by Jenny’s warm hospitality, Vastra couldn’t help but be afraid of what she might think about the tattoos on her arms. Vastra knew that tattoos were a huge turn off for some people, and she wasn’t willing to take that risk just yet, in case Jenny was one of them.

Vastra mentally concluded that the only logical thing for her to do in this situation, was to remain calm, check on Greeny, and leave as quickly as possible to help minimize the probability of her potentially embarrassing herself in front of Jenny. “Err, no thank you, Miss Flint, I’m actually not that thirsty at the moment,”declined Vastra graciously, despite her mouth being noticeably parched as a sun baked dessert in the middle of summer whenever she looked at Jenny. “I assume that you have many plans that you’d want to fulfill this Sunday, yes? Therefore, would you be so kind as to show me where Greeny is? I certainly do not wish to take up too much of your time with this visit today.”

Jenny tried not to show how disappointed she felt as Vastra brushed aside her suggestions, before affirmatively nodding. “Of course. I…ah, yes,Greeny is over here.” Deliberately, she crossed the living room until she was standing by the wall, bending down to retrieve greeny’s cage from the floor. “Where do you want me to put him? Somewhere here or in the kitchen?”

Vastra then peered into Jenny’s kitchen through the entrance located on the left side of the room, and was able to catch a glimpse of a pristine marble countertop. That instantly triggered a series of remarkably vivid images to flick across Vastra’s eyes; Coincidentally, all of them appeared to feature the same marble countertop upon which Jenny was sitting, still wearing her tank top and skirt, her legs wrapped tightly around Vastra’s waist as the two of them ravished each other’s mouths in a sexually passionate embrace. Witnessing those explicitly carnal visual representations of her own deepest, secretive, forbidden desires towards a particular female client was a profoundly alarming experience for Vastra, who felt as though her whole body was being consumed by a ruthless whirlwind of pure hellfire. This was definitely not the appropriate time, or place to be fantasizing about jumping your client’s bones, especially if said client is standing directly in front of you, which only makes it a thousand times worse! Vastra was at least fortunate that Jenny wasn’t a professional psychic mind reader or anything, because she would totally die from mortification if she could somehow see the things that are happening inside her head. Vastra was desperate to find some kind of cerebral off switch that could stop these unwanted thoughts from invading her psyche, but there seemed to be absolutely no end in sight to this annoyingly persistent problem. She remained determined anyways, however, and continued to push herself until she was finally able to break free of that accursed illusion using sheer willpower.

Praying fervently that her inner shame wasn’t too visible, Vastra returned her full attention back onto Jenny and answered with, “The living room is fine, we don’t have to go anywhere else. There is already a table in here and that’s all I really need to be able to work with Greeny.”

Vastra had, indeed, made it a main priority to stay far away from the kitchen as possible, in order to prevent herself from getting entangled among such troublesome hallucinations like that ever again.

“Oh, good. Yes, that sounds good indeed.” Smiling, Jenny quickly put the cage down on the table, opening the door. “And again, thank you for taking time to come by and check on Greeny, Miss McIntosh. It really is awfully nice of you.”

“Really, Miss Flint, you don’t have to keep thanking me for simply doing my job. I am merely following the ancient sacred Veterinarian’s Code of Honor to always help an animal in pain, wherever they may be,” Vastra joked lightheartedly as she approached the coffee table, carefully making sure that there was an ample amount of space in between Jenny and herself. “Additionally, I must also admit that have been missing yo…. Greeny an awful lot lately. I’m truly delighted to be here in your humble abode, so that I can see how my special little green boy is recovering.” She abruptly diverted her gaze towards Greeny’s cage, utterly relieved to have something else to look at instead of Jenny.

“Great! I’m sure Greeny missed you too…Uh…” Jenny’s eyes moved around the room, searching for something to focus on that was not Vastra’s stunningly attractive face and lethal smile. “What’s in the plastic bag?” She gestured to the generic plastic bag she just noticed that Vastra was carrying.

Vastra merely blinked and tilted her head to the side.“What plastic bag?” She asked, momentarily confused before remembering the thing she was holding in her hand, “Oh….yes, of course, it’s uhh….just a little gift that I picked up on my way here.” Vastra was smiling rather bashfully as she proceeded to reveal the content of her bag with great flourish. “It’s a traditional mini Japanese bonsai tree, for Greeny. I have one of my own at home, and thought that maybe you’d like to put it in his cage as decoration.” Even then, Vastra still kept her eyes on the tree and nervously bit her lip while she anticipated Jenny’s reaction.

Jenny nodded slowly, smiling. “Oh. Yes, uh….thanks! I had meant to buy some new plants but I haven’t really had any time…or money…to do it yet. Thanks.” She blushed, ducking her head and looking away.

Glancing at Jenny, Vastra was able to catch a brief glimpse of Jenny’s pretty, cute blushing face, which was more than enough to make her heart stop altogether for several dreamlike seconds. At this particular point, Vastra was almost entirely convinced that Jenny was no ordinary human girl, but must really be a divine angel who had somehow fallen down to earth. There was simply no other explanation as to how someone could ever be so beautiful, pure, and marvelous as Jenny is in her eyes.

“You’re, uhh, very welcome, Miss Flint. Do you want to take the tree yourself, or should I put it down somewhere?” Questioned Vastra, sounding slightly uncertain with the bonsai tree still in her hands.

Smiling and feeling acutely embarrassed, Jenny immediately reached out for the plant. “I suppose I don’t mind taking it off your hands for you. I’ll just…” Carefully, she went in to grab it, but at the same time Vastra suddenly moved slightly to the side and instead of taking the tree, she hit Vastra squarely in the face with her hand, barely catching the tree as Vastra dropped it before stumbling backwards, clutching her face with her hands while her glasses were sent flying to the floor by the accidental punch.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just…oh my god!” Jenny couldn’t even process what she’d done, backing away slowly with the tree clutched in her hands, eyes wide in horror. She could barely believe that her chronically clumsy tendencies had caused her to K.O. the most sexy person in existence by mistake.

The Scottish woman kept reeling backwards until she hit a wall, causing several of the hung paintings to rattle a bit. Vastra released a rather snake-like hiss as she felt the stinging pain spreading across her face from where Jenny had smacked her. Though as tremendously embarrassing as that may be, Vastra still couldn’t bear to hear Jenny blaming herself for something that was truly an accident.

Putting on a brave front, Vastra gradually lowered her hands away from her face and tried to re-establish a stable, composed demeanor. “Oh dear….hehe, that’s quite a strong right hook you got there, Miss Flint,” Spoke Vastra with a humorous tone in an attempt to make light of the situation, while completely disregarding the blood that is oozing out of her nose. “I think I understand why Scotland Yard hired you now…..such bountiful raw power, contained within such a small person. It’s fine, Miss Flint, I’m OK, really, I forgive you.” Vastra gave Jenny her best and most reassuring smile to show her that everything was alright.

Looking doubtfully at Vastra, Jenny said nothing but quickly pulled out a tissue from the box she kept on the coffee table and gave it to Vastra. As soon as Vastra accepted the offered tissue, Jenny then went for the glasses next. She had noticed them falling off Vastra’s face, and now she went to retrieve them, bending over to pick them off the floor.

Having a perfectly good view from where she stood, Vastra’s eyes practically popped of their sockets and her jaw very nearly dropped to the floor at the sight of Jenny’s skirt riding up her rear to reveal a rather provocative glimpse of her silk panties underneath.

As Jenny stretched out to grab them, she noticed to her amusement that there were tiny lizards printed on the glasses. Smiling to herself, she quickly picked them up and stood upright again. “Right. I got your glasses, and I really am so sorry . I can’t even hit that hard!”

“Well considering that my nose is now bleeding, I’d beg to differ on that” replied Vastra without the slightest hint of anger, as she tore off the tissue into smaller pieces and stuffed them up into her nostrils. She was absolutely certain that she was going to die of blood loss by the end of that visit.

“Right. Again, I’m very sorry.” Stepping forward, Jenny carefully tried to put the glasses back on Vastra’s face, her breath catching as she saw the brilliant blue eyes looking directly back at her. They were incredibly beautiful, deep puddles of glittering oceans bringing to life an equally brilliant mind. God, she could easily get lost in them forever and never come back, thought Jenny. As she finished putting the glasses in place, Jenny put her arms back at her sides, carefully taking a step back and suddenly realising how extremely close she had been - and still were - to Vastra.That the Scottish woman had even let her in that close surprised her, and she couldn’t help the blush tinging her cheeks as she realised that she had in fact, invaded the woman’s personal space without even asking for permission.

Taking another step back, her blush deepened, and so did the embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Again. I….you…your eyes are…blue. I like blue. Not blue like my walls but, better blue. Perfect blue . Amazing ocean blue. Really, really blue of the prettiest blue kind.”

Vastra swore that the entire world had stopped spinning in that moment, freezing time in place as Jenny slid her glasses back onto her face with such genuine care and tenderness. Her eyes briefly fluttered shut and she allowed herself to inhale a whiff of Jenny’s sweet smelling peach shampoo that sent all of her senses into overdrive with euphoria. A very small, inappropriate part of her even wondered whether or not Jenny would taste as delicious as she smells. Alas, Vastra had to keep her utter disappointment hidden when Jenny abruptly moved away from her area of range, appearing immensely apologetic for some reason which she couldn’t figure out. Vastra missed being so close in proximity with Jenny, but her dismay was instantly replaced by surprise when Jenny complimented her eyes, albeit in a fairly awkward and drawn out way.

Now it was Vastra’s turn to blush as she nervously adjusted her glasses, scrunched her nose, and bowed her head to avoid the other woman’s gaze. “I….uhh…thank you, how very kind of you to say that,” said a highly flustered Vastra, a shy elated smile forming upon her lips. “Yes, my eyes are indeed blue. I’ve had them since I was born….but nobody has ever seemed to appreciate them like you do.”

“Nobody has ever appreciated me like you do.” Jenny replied, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them, regardlessly not being able to hold back her smile.

“Excuse my forwardness, but I do find that hard to believe,” Vastra responded softly, lifting her head up to lock shining blue eyes with Jenny’s chocolate brown ones. There was a period of inaction where the two of them merely smiled at each other in a sort of intimate silence, before Vastra decided to break it by saying, “Well then, let not this minor setback prevent us from getting on with the task at hand, shall we?”

Thus pushing aside that trivial incident of unintentional violence, Vastra promptly approached the front of Greeny’s cage and proceeded to gently coax him out of his home. As soon as Vastra first saw that little scaly lizard’s head peeking out from the cage, she could already tell that Greeny had been recovering far better than when she examined him at the clinic. His scales appeared to be more colorful, his movements more fluid, his eyes wide open, and there was even a tiny contented smile on his face. Vastra’s smile grew wider when she heard Greeny emit a high-pitched crooning noise as a way of greeting her. Apparently, there wasn’t going to be much that Vastra will have to check on Greeny and she was glad for it.

Jenny watched Vastra tending to Greeny intently, praying that her little lizard was doing alright. Careful not to come too close, she approached the both of them slowly. “I do think he should be doing quite fine now, seeing as I took your advise. He’s seemed to be more energetic lately, but I don’t really know. What do you think? Is there something else I should do?” She bit her lip a little, trying not to sound all worried, thought to be honest, she feared what Vastra might say.

Several long, agonizing minutes passed before Vastra turned to look at Jenny and said,”Congratulations, Miss Flint, your pet lizard here does appear to be in excellent shape from what I can see. I hope that my diagnostic will help to put your mind at ease about Greeny’s wellbeing. Trust me, he is perfectly healthy and lizardy as ever, so I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.” With that final verdict, Vastra then returned Greeny back into the safe, warm, cozy vicinity of his cage and recast her gaze over to Jenny. “Any more questions that you want to ask me?”

Upon hearing Vastra’s question, Jenny had to bite her lip hard to not let something lewd, or incredibly inappropriate, out of her mouth. Finally, after standing around and chewing her lip longer than she ought to, she then asked, “Can you stay for some coffee, or tea if you prefer, and pastries? I’ve got some cookies I baked just the other week in the kitchen. It could be my way of thanking you for coming here and looking at Greeny.” She smiled, and before Vastra could protest, she added. “Please? I would feel so much better if I gave something in return.” She made puppy dog eyes, and hoped so badly that Vastra would not go. She was not ready to let this goddess of a woman walk out of her apartment just yet.

Those accursed puppy dog eyes seemed to have put a dent in Vastra’s initial plan for a hasty escape out of the apartment. Any argument against Jenny’s invitation to stay that Vastra possessed instantly melted away into those enticingly warm brown eyes that look as though they could pierce right through her very soul. Secretly, though, Vastra’s heart was deeply touched by the fact that Jenny actually desired her company, and was fighting so hard for the chance to show Vastra her gratitude. It was exactly this type of caring nature and moxy that kept pulling Vastra further and further in love towards this utterly majestic young woman. How could she possibly bring herself to deny Jenny this one innocent request, when she knew that it would certainly break the poor girl’s heart if she said no? What’s the harm in hanging around for a little bit of complimentary coffee and cookies? Just play it cool and everything will be fine, right?

Feeling all of her resolve rapidly slipping from her grasp, Vastra finally managed to crack open a slight friendly smile and nodded in agreement. “Fine, you win! But only because I’m feeling rather famished, and your offer of cookies does sound simply too good to refuse,”spoke Vastra cheerfully, even topping it off with a fairly flirtatious wink to boot.

Vastra then walked around the coffee table in order to reach the sofa, where she began to remove her leather jacket and scarf. Vastra didn’t really thought much about what she was doing, until she heard an audibly shocked gasp coming from Jenny. That alone was enough to make Vastra stop, her entire body becoming tense, as she squeezed her eyes shut and mentally reprimanded herself for acting so carelessly in Jenny’s home.

As Vastra sat down on the couch, she finally pulled off her scarf and that incredible, sexy leather jacket that she had arrived in. Taking almost too much pleasure in watching her pull off the smooth leather from her shoulders and sliding her well-toned arms out of the sleeves, Jenny simply couldn’t withhold her gasp as she saw what Vastra was hiding underneath. The entire length of Vastra’s gorgeous , breathtakingly lean and slender arms were covered in stylistic black and green snake tattoos. Jenny followed them with her eyes, greedily taking in every little detail of the extensive, beautifully designed snake tattoo. It went all the way up to Vastra’s firm shoulders, some of her brown hair just barely reaching down long enough to lay across the very top of it, before mysteriously disappearing into her shirt and perhaps continuing underneath. While Jenny did not envision Vastra to be the kind of person to be covered in tattoos, she could not say that she disliked what she was seeing, and she kept smiling as Vastra made herself comfortable on the couch.

This woman was not only hot, she was on goddamn scorching fire!

Suddenly feeling terribly naked without her jacket and with her ink clad arms now on full display for Jenny to see, Vastra blushed bright tomato red as she shifted quite uneasily in her seat. Not wanting Jenny to think that there was anything wrong, however, Vastra then implemented a deliberate demonstration of swagger by stretching her muscular arms high above her head, before bringing them down to rest upon her neatly crossed legs. Hands clasped deftly against her knee, Vastra couldn’t resist leaning slightly forward so that she could hungrily devour Jenny’s most peculiarly risque attire with her keen eyes once again.

“Well then….is the lovely hostess not going to provide the promised coffee and cookies for her guest?” Inquired Vastra with a thickly alluring Scottish accent seeping through her tone, and one dark eyebrow raised elegantly on her forehead.

Jenny truly thought that she would faint on the spot. For a moment, she felt everything swim before her eyes and it felt as though all the air had left her lungs, but thankfully she soon managed to collect herself. It would have been terribly embarrassing if she did pass out, just because this goddess of a woman removed her jacket. Nodding, she quickly set off towards the kitchen, disappearing through the doorway before Vastra could say anything.

“Coming right up! Do you want sugar or cream?” She called out once she’d reached the kitchen, thankful to be out of sight as her cheeks kept heating up like two buns fresh out of the oven. “Also, are you allergic to nuts?” The last thing was an afterthought, because as she reached for the cookie jar she realised, she didn’t know and she always used nuts in her cookies, because she liked it that way herself. Almost frantically, she tried to look for something else to server her guest as she waited for the answer, preparing for the worst.

“Just a dash of sugar and cream is how I usually prefer my coffee,” responded Vastra, who could hear Jenny moving around inside the kitchen due to her rather abnormally sharp sense of hearing. “I am not allergic to any nuts, but my body is badly affected by chocolate!”

Vastra truly didn’t mind waiting for Jenny, and she was able to occupy herself with observing the surrounding area that was Jenny’s living room. The room was considerably smaller than your average house, yet still relatively comfortable, noted Vastra as her eyes swept across the modest sized television set, framed paintings, bookshelves ladened with an impressive quantity of reading material, and a few colorful priceless vases among other things. What really struck Vastra the most was how impeccably clean and well-kept everything was, as far as she could see at least; It was such a stark contrast when compared to Vastra’s own junkyard of a house, which made it nearly impossible to tell where clutter ends and civilization begins. As domestically challenged as Vastra was, she would always attribute it to her busy working schedule at the clinic which left her with very little time to get her home in order. The best that she could do was a little dusting here, a bit of sweeping there, and a whole lot of shoving things into a closet to be forgotten about forever. Though to be honest, it never actually bothered Vastra as much as it would other people knowing that her house will never be as neat as Jenny’s, mainly because she’s already gotten so used to its constantly chaotic state by now.

“Coffee’s here!” Jenny announced cheerfully as she came out the kitchen with the tray, coffee, cookies, sugar and cream loaded onto it, as well as a cup of tea for herself. “I hope they will be satisfactory.” She bit her lip, hoping Vastra would be satisfied by the coffee and cookies. She could already feel her cheeks heating from the disappointment and embarrassment if Vastra were to dislike any of the food or beverages.

Little did Jenny know, however, that the tray of freshly baked treats and coffee weren’t the only things that Vastra was drooling over.

Vastra watched with substantial interest as Jenny placed the tray of refreshments down on the table in front of her, and uplifted her face to smile graciously at her generous hostess. The Scottish woman had always possessed an uncanny ability to accurately detect even the slightest quirk in someone’s body language, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that she was able to pick up on Jenny’s nervously restless aura. Vastra was intensely curious as to the reason for Jenny’s apparent anxiousness, but figured that would be best if she didn’t say anything about it.

Instead, Vastra simply went ahead and picked up a delectable looking cookie from the tray, before taking a tentative bite off of it. “Mmmm…..how exquisitely scrumptious, and I especially liked the delightful crunch of the nuts you added,”commented Vastra, seemingly pleased, whose tongue then briefly flicked out to wipe some crumbs off her lip. “You really ought to consider becoming a baker, because I can happily eat these for the rest of my life.”

That was soon followed by Vastra picking up the cup of coffee, it’s powerfully rich aroma filling her nostrils despite being clogged with blood, and bringing it towards her mouth for a sip, which also elicited the same positive reaction from Vastra.

Jenny watched attentively as Vastra tried the cookies and coffee. To her utter delight, the woman seemed to enjoy both of them, even going as far as to compliment her cookies. Once she felt safe that everything was satisfactory, she carefully sat down on the other end of the sofa, grabbing her cup of tea in both hands and trying to think up something to say. Her eyes scanned Vastra’s body, her gaze continuously being drawn to the green and black tattoos on her arms, still as fascinating as the first time she saw them. “So…” She said tentatively, pausing to sip on her tea. “It is some very nice tattoos you got on your arms. I like the design.”

Vastra abruptly stopped and instantly swiveled her head to look at Jenny, being utterly astonished that Jenny just actually complimented her tattoos.

Gradually, her face then lit up with a brilliantly bright smile, as she could hardly contain her excitement, and said, “Oh thank you, Miss Flint, how very kind of you to say so! I chose this particular design, because I wanted something to help me remember my ancestral Celtic roots while I’m down here in London.” Vastra’s smile continued to broaden even more when a most splendid idea struck her mind. “Also, if you like what you’re seeing on my arms, I have another tattoo on my back which I am especially proud of. Here…I‘ll show you!”

Without giving Jenny a chance to reply, Vastra eagerly pulled out her phone from her pocket and found a picture of herself flexing shirtless while facing away from the camera to showcase the large, intricately detailed tattoo that occupied nearly her entire backside.

The tattoo was absolutely stunning, as it depicts two swords crossing a shield bearing the noble McIntosh clan name, and strewn with vines of wildflowers.

Jenny started at the photo, politely trying to focus on the beautiful, intricate tattoo rather than the amount of bare skin Vastra was revealing in the photo and her strong, flexing arms. “That’s an absolutely amazing tattoo.” Jenny said softly. She didn’t know much about tattooing, but with a highly detailed and creative design being worn by such a gorgeous Scottish woman, Jenny truly felt like she’d fallen in love with the tattoo.

Now suddenly aware of the fact that she has just showed Jenny a very personal and half naked picture out of sheer impulsiveness, Vastra could feel her face blushing a fiery crimson for what would be the billionth time in that day alone. “Err…thank you, I’m really glad that you think so,”replied Vastra, who couldn’t help sounding somewhat bashful. “Yes, my tattoos are amazing indeed, because they hold such a great amount of personal significance to me. They’re a permanently important part of who I am, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Jenny merely nodded and smiled understandably at Vastra, trying to absorb every single one of Vastra’s words as the Scottish woman was practically baring her soul to her.

It was in that moment that Vastra’s phone suddenly started ringing, which caused the both of them to jump a little in surprise.

“Oh God, it’s my sister calling me,” muttered Vastra as she checked the caller ID before returning her attention back to Jenny. “I’m so sorry if this might be an inconvenience, but um….would you mind if I answer this call real quick?”

Jenny smiled reassuringly, nodding. “If you need to, then sure go ahead.” She thought of her own family, and how she’d never in a million years would have answered a single call from any of them. Ever. But, she guessed not everyone’s situation looked like hers.

Giving Jenny one quick grateful glance, Vastra then pressed the button to answer the call and brought her phone up against her ear. “Hello, Lanah? What are you calling me for this time? Is it your dog, did he eat one of your earrings again?” It was hard for Vastra to keep her tone free of any annoyance that she felt at being interrupted in the middle of her meeting with Jenny.

“Hello to you too, dear sister. How nice to hear you think I only call if something has happened, it does make me feel so very appreciated.” Lanah mocked, her voice overly happy as she spoke.

The Scottish woman groaned internally, but was also secretly excited to talk to her beloved sister again. Resuming with their naturally well rehearsed banter, Vastra said, “So I’m assuming that your dog is OK then? I still remember how poor Capaldi couldn’t eat for a month because of that stupid diamond earing tearing through his digestive intestines. I swear, your insatiable appetite for fine precious jewelry is going to be the death of him!”

“Yes, he is perfectly diamond-free, for your your information. Jesus Christ, that was ONE time! Besides, I do recall you letting your friend feed Billy chocolate last time I let you babysit him!”

“Well, do you think that I don’t regret making that mistake,” snapped Vastra in response, before speaking more collectedly, “ Ahem, anyway…..the past is in the past, so I suggest that you just get straight to the point already.”

“Fine. I can tell you what I want, and I assure you, I will be much straighter than you.” She paused, letting Vastra realise what she just said, before continuing. “Billy wanted to talk to his favourite aunt, who ironically nearly killed him.”

From the sidelines, Jenny watched anxiously as Vastra spoke to her sister on the phone, always ready to come to her help if she looked as though she needed support. At one point, Vastra snapped, the conversation seemingly having turned south, and Jenny was very close to asking if she wanted her to give her an excuse to hang up, but the situation calmed down and Jenny stepped back. Still, as she saw Vastra glance in her direction, she couldn’t help but whisper, ‘Is everything okay?’, worried that Vastra might be caught up in a situation she found uncomfortable.

Vastra could only smile lightly at Jenny to indicate that there was nothing to worry about, and proceeded to reply with, “I can’t say that I’m the least bit surprised, since it’s a scientifically proven fact that every family should have a cool lesbian aunt to keep things interesting.”

At hearing Vastra openly admit that she was a lesbian, Jenny almost couldn’t hold back a gasp that threatened to escape her lips. Of course, she did have her ideas and suspicions, and she had been desperately hoping that it would be the case, but to actually hear it being confirmed took her completely by surprise.

“As long as ‘interesting’ doesn’t mean deadly, I can possibly agree.” Lanah said fondly. “Either way, I’m putting on Billy now. He’s been tugging at my dress for the past half-hour and it’s getting a bit annoying.”

Immediately after she said that, the line went momentarily silent as Lanah passed on the phone to Billy, and before Vastra could even prepare herself, her ears were suddenly bombarded by the voice of a highly overenthusiastic four year old boy.

“Aunty Vasha! Aunty Vasha! It’s me, Billy!” Shouted Billy from the other side of the line without any repercussions whatsoever. “I wanted Mommy to call you because I love the toy racecar you sent me for my birthday! I like to play with it because it’s super fast and it goes zoom zoom and sometimes Capaldi will chase it! When I grow up I will have a real racecar and we will go on awesome adventures together! Maybe I’ll have a flying car that can take us up to the moon!”

There was a broad doting smile spread across Vastra’s face as she happily listened to her adorable nephew’s passionate gushing about his new toy racecar. It was then that she fully realized just how much she missed her family back home in Scotland, who she would see only a few times each year for holidays and whatnot. Since she clearly lacked any children of her own, Vastra was able to compensate for it by loving all of her sibling’s children and spoiling them rotten, including Billy. Billy’s rapidly spoken words helped to draw out old distant memories from the very deep recesses of Vastra’s mind, allowing her to relive all those wonderful times that they had together. Vastra was immensely thankful to at least have this one little connection with her family, and she hoped that it would never end.

When Billy finally paused to take a breath, Vastra promptly took advantage of it to say, “Ah, yes hello there, Silly Billy, nothing ever makes me happier than getting a call from my most favorite nephew! I’m so glad to hear that your crazy wild imagination still hasn’t changed. It sure seems like you were able to put it to good use while playing with your race car.”

“Thank you a lot, Aunty Vasha! I don’t care what Mommy says, you are the greatest, awesomest aunty ever!” Proclaimed Billy zealously, which touched Vastra’s heart in a profoundly meaningful way.

From the couch, Jenny kept observing Vastra in curious silence. She’d said she was fine, but it didn’t help Jenny’s worries much. What did, however, was when she saw Vastra breaking into a huge grin, her whole face practically glowing as she listened to someone chatting energetically on the other end. Seeing Vastra so happy and at ease made Jenny happy, too, and she couldn’t help the small smile resting upon her lips. It was wonderful and amazing to see someone so joyful and content and absolutely at ease in a conversation with family. For Vastra, family was clearly people she cared for and loved, and somehow that made Jenny feel both glad and also sad, because while it felt blissful watching someone else experiencing it this way, it was not something she would ever have.

As soon as Billy was done talking, the line went quiet for a moment, and then the voice of Vastra’s sister picked up once more. “That’s enough Billy, time for us grown-ups to talk again. Thanks for listening to him, Vastra. He’s been going on and on about how he wanted to talk to you all morning, and you know he gets cranky when he wants something.”

“Hmmm….well, I do certainly wonder who he got that from,” Vastra mockingly questioned while stroking her chin, a massive smile still plastered onto her face. “It’s really no problem, Lanah, because I find it quite sweet that Billy wanted to call and thank me for his present. Honestly, I was beginning to worry that he had forgotten all about me. So just out of curiosity….how is the rest of the family doing,” Vastra asked carefully as she bit her lip, craving for more information regarding her the status of her family.

Most importantly, she needed to know if they had been able to recover from her father’s tragic death due to cancer five years ago, because God knows she definitely hasn’t.

After Vastra’s question, there was a short pause on the other end, and she could hear her sister saying something to her son, before she began to reply with, “Well…I guess it’s okay overall. Most of us are doing pretty well, some are in a bit of a low period at the moment but hopefully they’ll be feeling better soon. We miss you, though. Honestly, it would be so nice if we could see you a little more often.”

A biting sensation of guilt stung within Vastra’s heart upon hearing her sister’s downhearted statement, and she shakily spoke, “You know very well I that want that more than anything…. and I would do so, in a heartbeat, if only my schedule would allow it. It’s just that….it’s hard, you know, going back there….and remembering all those things.” Vastra’s voice was barely above a whisper by the time she finished speaking, a tell-tale sign that her emotions were threatening to overwhelm her.

The day that Vastra’s father died was not something she liked to think about often, even going so far as to block it out of her mind completely. His untimely death dealt an enormously heavy blow on everyone in the family, and each of them had their own ways of coping with the aftermath of that terrible event. Immediately after graduating from vet school, Vastra moved down to London because she simply couldn’t bear to stay in Scotland any longer. Really, she was trying to run away from the past where her father still dwelled while his spirit continued to haunt her in the present. A small part of Vastra always knew that it was selfish and cowardly of her to leave her grieving family behind instead of remaining with them during their darkest hour. She never had much trouble suppressing those echoing doubts in the back of her head until now, as talking to Lanah for the last thirty minutes was causing all of her old, painstakingly hidden grief and regret to resurface again. Vastra’s entire body was trembling at this point, and she could feel herself being dangerously close to bursting out in tears, though Jenny’s presence was the only thing that encouraged Vastra to maintain her composure, because it would be most utterly lame if she randomly started crying in front of her crush. No, there will be enough time to have an emotional breakdown later, but in this current moment she must put on a brave face for Jenny.

On the other end of the phone, a deep sigh could be heard, and then Vastra’s sister said,. “I know, Vastra. I’m not accusing you of anything, Little Extra. I’m just saying we miss you, that’s all.”

Still sitting and waiting for the call to end, Jenny could tell that things were getting tense as Vastra suddenly started shuddering, and she decided that perhaps it would be best if she gave her some time alone.

With the efficiency of someone who had their fair share of working in coffee shops, Jenny quickly started gathering the cups and half empty plate of biscuits, piling them up atop each other on the tray that she’d brought with her to the living room.Once she was done, she stood up, taking the tray in her arms and began setting off towards the kitchen. However, as she left, she took one last glance over her shoulder at Vastra, thus neglecting to see where she was going, and tripped on the threshold.Feet hitting against solid wood, Jenny’s entire body was sent crashing to the floor, the tray flying out of her hands, porcelain breaking into a million pieces as they landed upon the floor along with Jenny.

“Fucking bloody hell!” The swear words slipped past her lips as she tried desperately to readjust her bruised and aching body, swearing even more as she realised how much ruined china there was spread out everywhere. “Fucking shit!”

The collective commotion of shattering china and an angrily cursing Cockney woman instantly pulled Vastra away from the phone call, her eyes growing wide with shocked concern at the sight of Jenny’s disastrous wipeout. “Oh dear Lord….are you alright, Jenny?” Blurted Vastra, momentarily forgetting that her sister was also listening on the line.

“ Jenny ? Who are you calling Jenny ?!” Lanah hadn’t been aware that someone else was in the room with Vastra, but then something clicked in her mind and she sang, “Vaaaastra, are you at your girlfriend’s house? Someone named Jenny? Why didn’t you tell me! Finally, someone to take care of your sorry, egotistical arse!” Her voice was gleeful and humorous, and Vastra could imagine her smug smile as she spoke.

Vastra hissed sharply into the phone in retaliation before abandoning her phone altogether on the sofa as she quickly ran to Jenny’s side. “Jenny, oh my God, are you hurt anywhere? Bloody Christ, there’s a lot of broken china over here! Let me uhh help you uhh…..”

It was then that Vastra’s eyes made the mistake of landing on Jenny’s enticing cleavage visibly peeking through her shirt, with only a few inches in between the two of them, and that caused her to swallow hard as her entire bodily system effectively malfunctioned.

“Excuse me.” Jenny said, slightly embarrassed as she caught on to Vastra’s sideway glance down at her cleavage. “Can you please help me up a little? I’d really like to get away from this spot without cutting my hands and feet on all this china.”

“Huh? Oh, yes….the china, of course….sorry,” Vastra rapidly blinked, summoning all of her willpower in order to tear her gaze away from Jenny’s bosom, and generously stretched out her hand for Jenny to take. There was no way to prevent the deep embarrassment that she felt at being caught ogling by the other woman from exploding into varying shades of red across her face. “Pray tell, how in the world did this happen anyway?”

At this, Jenny blushed and immediately became red in the face, awkwardly trying to form a coherent reply that wouldn’t directly reveal she’d been listening in on the phone call. “I…well, you seemed a little upset so I thought I’d….I’d take out the dishes and give you some time to yourself. But then I just…..I looked back at you as I left and hit the threshold.” Finishing her explanation, Jenny held tightly onto Vastra’s offered hand as she ungracefully jumped over the broken porcelain, landing on the floor next to Vastra.

As soon as she did that, Vastra instinctively scooted a few inches away from Jenny, in an attempt to prevent herself from getting too lightheaded while in Jenny’s intoxicating presence. She could have sworn that that she felt an invisible electricity crackling in the air between their hands as she hastily retracted her own, just like when they first met at the clinic. A faint, yet hopeful voice in the back of Vastra’s mind told her that it might be a sign from the universe, that perhaps she might actually have a chance with Jenny who was totally far out of her league. Sobering up again, Vastra immediately dismissed those thoughts as mere wishful thinking, and tilted her head slightly aside while her eyes fixed themselves upon Jenny with the suspicion that she had been eavesdropping on her private conversation. Not that Vastra could hardly hold her at fault, of course.

So without any hint of accusation in her tone, and a gentle smile forming on her lips, Vastra responded with, “You really ought to be more careful, Miss Flint. Although, I can honestly say that this isn’t the very first time somebody had an accident due to my rather distracting tattoos.” Her gaze then flicked over to all the fractured pieces of china, causing her expression to grimace as she spoke, “I’m awfully sorry about your china….I truly am. Will you allow me to assist you in cleaning up this mess? It’s the least I can do, after you’ve shown me such a generous amount to hospitality.”

Upon hearing her first remark, Jenny blushed even more, the redness on her cheeks deepening. As she came to the second part of the sentence, Jenny felt so embarrassed and uncomfortable that she wanted nothing more than for Vastra to leave, to take her things and walk away and never come back so that maybe Jenny could just forget her and move on. Her heart obviously disagreed, however and instead of telling her to go, she found herself nodding in acceptance to her offer. “Yes, please, hat would be very welcomed.” She said, biting her lip hard at how much of an idiot she must look like, and quickly started gathering shards, just to have something - anything - to do.

Vastra’s brows furrowed in confusion, as something about what Jenny said felt kind of…. forced to her, but it wasn’t long before she, too, dropped down onto her knees and began to carefully collect the sharp fragments into her hand. There was only a cold and empty silence as the two of them continued to clear the floor of broken china for what seemed like an entire eternity, each trying desperately to avoid looking at the other. Then by accident, while they were both too deeply caught up within their own contemplation, their hands touched yet again on the last piece of china. That simple incident served as a catalyst that sent powerful trails of sparks burning up the length of their arms until they ultimately reached their hearts and set them aflame with the intensity of a thousand blazing suns. Neither Jenny nor Vastra could comprehend why it must always happen this way, but at the same time it was also getting increasingly more difficult for them to ignore their passionate mutual attraction to each other. Completely aware of all the risks that came with it, both Jenny and Vastra simultaneously lifted their heads so that their eyes became firmly locked, bright blue staring into rich brown. Every single trace of the outside world gradually faded away until nothing else remained except for the two of them, utterly alone with the deafening sound of their seismic heartbeats. Vastra subconsciously licked her lips and stole a tentatively quick glimpse of Jenny’s perfectly kissable mouth, a sudden erotic shiver shooting up her spine when she noticed Jenny mirroring her actions as well. There was a distinctly apparent change among the atmosphere that surrounded them, filling it to the very brim with a heavy and undeniable sexual tension which radiated off of Jenny and Vastra themselves. Slowly, their faces started moving forward inch by inch in order to close the gap between them, though neither was fully capable of registering it, as if there was some unseen mystical power that was pulling them together, whether they knew it or not.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Vastra’s ears perked up to an all too familiar voice that started shouting from the sofa. “Vastra? Extra, where the hell did you go?! Don’t tell me you seriously dropped the phone without hanging up to go get some from that girl of yours!” Lanah called out from the phone speaker, utter amusement and irritation mixing within her tone.

Thus, the mysterious trance that was holding Vastra and Jenny captive had been broken. They blinked rather absentmindedly, as if just waking up from a long slumber, both entirely unsure about what was happening in that particular moment. Then witnessing that their hands were still in the same position, they immediately separated them with impossibly lightning quick reflexes, the final china piece being claimed by Vastra. Nonetheless, the overwhelming heat of the carnal fire that had consumed them earlier refused to go away, but continued to rage within them ever so strongly. Their eyes strictly fixated onto the floor, neither of them could find any words to say, for fear of escalating the already stressful situation even more. Therefore, they decided to simply keep their mouths shut, and wordlessly rose up from the floor before walking over to the trashcan in Jenny’s kitchen where they cautiously disposed all of the damaged china fragments.

Once that was taken care of, Vastra immediately sprinted back into the living room to pick up her phone, and resumed the call saying, “ Ha ha ha ….very funny, Lanah. If you really must know, I’m with a client right now, another lizard case as you can probably guess. So I would highly appreciate it if you can kindly stop spouting shit out of your ass hole, and let me do my job.” Vastra was definitely in no mood to tolerate her older sister’s inappropriate remarks, but she also knew that Lanah was fully capable of enduring her verbal abuses after all those years.

“Well, excuse me! You’re not exactly notoriously known for going out of your way to visit patients in their homes, especially not on weekends! On the other hand, what you are notoriously known for is being insanely, ridiculously, EXTRA gay ! But whatever, blame a woman for trying to make some logical conclusions, it’s fine I don’t care. Either way, I don’t have time to stay talking to you much longer so I’m hanging up now. Goodbye, Vastra!” Immediately, the line went dead as Lanah hung up.

Inwardly relieved that the call was finally over with, Vastra sighed deeply as she placed her phone back into her pocket.

“Hey, Vastra. Are you…are you okay?” Carefully, Jenny approached Vastra, putting a hand on her arm. It was quite obvious that the lengthy phone call had drained Vastra, and she wanted to make sure that she was okay. “I’m here for you if…if you need to talk.”

It required every bit of Vastra’s willpower not to jump off the sofa when she felt Jenny’s delicate hand on her arm. Eventually turning around to face Jenny directly, Vastra tried to act like nothing was wrong as she said, “Thank you, Je–Miss Flint– but I assure you, everything is perfectly well with me. It’s just that, my sister….she enjoys pushing my buttons way too much sometimes.” Vastra chuckled nervously, a wry smile gracing her countenance. “Yes, she can often be a royal pain in the neck, but I still love her anyway.”

Vastra had intentionally stopped herself from addressing Jenny by her first name, because the phone call with Lanah made her self-conscious of the fact that she was getting a little too friendly with Jenny, and that she needed to reestablish some kind of professional formality asap.

While Jenny felt a bit hurt that Vastra refused to use her first name, she kept smiling peacefully, squeezing Vastras arm. “I understand. You are very lucky to have people who do care for you, even if they sometimes drive you crazy. They still love you.” Her smile felt less real with every passing second because seeing the way Vastra and her family worked, made Jenny’s heart ache. She badly longed to have a life and a family like that herself, too, but it was and always will be an unreachable dream, and she knew that. It had never been a possibility. “A lot of people have it much worse.”

Vastra was able to detect a trace of bitter melancholy in Jenny’s tone, which led her to gently lay her hand on Jenny’s knee and asked, “Pardon me if this sounds intrusive, but I’m under the impression that perhaps you don’t get along with your family?”

That was an extremely risky move on Vastra’s part and she mentally kicked herself for prying into the personal life of this woman who she barely even knows. On the other hand, however, Jenny seemed to be so sad and miserable that Vastra just couldn’t help giving her heart out to her in sympathy. There was really nothing that she could do except waiting anxiously with bated breath for Jenny’s response

Upon hearing Vastra’s inquiry, Jenny almost dissolved straight into tears. Her arms wrapped tightly around her own shivering body and she nodded. “My mom is dead. My siblings are God knows where, I haven’t heard from any of them in years, and my dad would probably try to kill me if I ever got close to him again.” At the end she was openly sobbing, unable to keep it all back as it came rushing out against her will, hot tears splattered on her cheeks. “There is not a single person who cares about me. I don’t have anyone who I can truly call ‘my family’ in this world” She knew it sounded pathetic and attention seeking from her side, but Jenny couldn’t help it. Once the dam had been breached, the flood of emotions could not be stopped no matter how hard she tried.

Oh dear….Oh God….Why is this happening….I shouldn’t have done that….Bloody hell I am such a fucking idiot!

Needless to say, Vastra was in full blown panic mode as she realized that she had unwittingly opened Pandora’s box. It’s rather obvious that she has brought this upon herself, because she just had to cross the line and make Jenny talk about a severely sensitive topic instead of minding her own damn business. So as a result of that, Vastra was now absolutely stuck in a most awkward situation with Jenny literally crying an entire river beside her, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to fix it. The real truth is that Vastra has always been the worst at trying to comfort people, especially when they are leaking an excessive amount of salty liquid out of their eyeballs, and would be more likely to distance herself away from them. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean that her heart wasn’t actually breaking into a million pieces with every single choking sob that escaped from Jenny’s lips before falling on her ears. Vastra seriously hated seeing Jenny in so much pain and suffering, which she had ultimately concluded as somehow being caused by Jenny’s family. It was strikingly clear to Vastra that Jenny was carrying a lot of heavy, unresolved emotional baggage, and she very desperately wanted to help Jenny in any way she can, but her whole body was currently in a state of complete shock. Vastra was immensely determined to do at least something–anything–and began summoning all of her energy in order to regain her physical functionality.

Miraculously, Vastra’s efforts soon paid off as she was then able to slowly stretch her arm out towards Jenny and started to lightly pat her on the shoulder.

“Err there, there, Miss Flint….everything is going to be alright,”Vastra reassured fumblingly, wincing at how weak that sounded while trying to wrack her brain for more things to say. When she couldn’t find anything that she considered to be adequate enough, Vastra merely sighed and said, “Oh, who am I bloody kidding? Nothing is right about this whatsoever, and it’s all my damn fault! It was a stupid mistake on my part to just drop that question onto you out of nowhere. I really should have stayed in my lane. God, I’m such a fucking daft, insensitive fool!” There was a prolonged pause as Vastra suddenly fell silent, guilt and remorse weighing down heavily against her heart like lead. “I am so, so terribly sorry, Miss Flint….I now realize that it was inexcusable of me to overstepped my boundaries….and I completely understand if you want me to leave.”

Somehow, the thought of Vastra leaving, of Jenny having chased her away because she could not keep her damn mouth shut about things she knew no one cared about, felt even worse to Jenny than the agonizing torment of her mortal soul. Her stomach twisted,and even more tears came pouring down her face, and before she knew what she was doing, she wrapped her arms tightly around Vastra, hugging her and sobbing into her firmly solid chest. “No, please don’t go….I’m…I’m sorry. I…I know I shouldn’t….I’m sorry for being like this.” There was not much else that Jenny could say, still shamelessly clinging onto Vastra for dear life and crying her eyes out.

Vastra was caught completely by surprise when the woman of her dreams suddenly threw herself at her, for lack of a better term, and was refusing to let her go anytime soon. While Vastra was utterly afraid that she might mess things up even more if she made just one wrong move, she also felt a sort of newfound maternal instinct kicking into her system as she simply couldn’t bear to hear Jenny apologizing for something that wasn’t her fault. Eventually deciding to throw all caution into the wind, Vastra carefully encircled her own arms around Jenny’s small trembling frame, propriety be damned! She then proceeded to rub soothing circles upon Jenny’s back, while quietly whispering sweet words of comfort into her ear, because God knows the poor girl definitely deserved nothing less than to be treated with utmost compassion and kindness as she continued to thoroughly soak Vastra’s shirt with her tears of anguish. They remained together in that position for an indefinite amount of time, which didn’t really bother Vastra one bit because she was perfectly willing to wait for as long as Jenny needed.

Finally, Jenny’s tears started to abate after she had all but cried herself dry, embarrassment quickly claiming her and putting her cheeks on fire as she separated from Vastra, scooting to the other end of the sofa and giving her some extra space after having clung to her shamelessly for what felt like hours. Carefully, she dabbed the edge of her tank top against her cheeks, trying to remove the leftover tears and attempting a wobbly smile. “Sorry.” She said, her voice not quite as steady as she’d like it to be. “I don’t talk about my family often, for obvious reasons. I prefer to just bury it all in the back of my head and forget.” She gave a shallow laughter, but it was lifeless and not particularly funny and she decided to just shut up instead.

Vastra would have pouted in disappointment when Jenny abruptly broke their tight embrace, and hastily retreated back to the other side of the couch, but luckily she was able to school her features into appearing strictly normal. Already did she missed the warm weight of Jenny’s body pressed against her own and the special intimacy of having her arms wrapped around the petite woman; It was as if a large piece of her heart had been taken away along with Jenny, which left her feeling utterly hollow and incomplete.

Vastra’s eyes simply couldn’t resist dropping down to look at the exposed skin on Jenny’s stomach as she lifted up the fringe of her tank top, but she still made sure to instantly revert her gaze so that she wouldn’t be caught like last time.

“It would seem that is much easier said than done, I’m afraid,” replied Vastra wistfully, returning with a rather strained smile of her own. She could sense that the atmosphere of the room has changed drastically yet again, and she didn’t like the way it somehow made all of her hair stand up on end. There was a tense pause before she continued to speak, “That was quite an impressive emotional catharsis you had, Miss Flint. How are you feeling now?”

Wincing a little at the thought if what she had just done, Jenny nodded. “A bit better, thanks. Actually, a lot better. Don’t think I’ve told anyone that much about my family since I was a teenager. Hope it wasn’t too embarrassing for you.” She purposely looked away from Vastra as she said the last part, but she didn’t feel quite as ashamed as earlier.

A wave of regret washed over Vastra when she saw Jenny did that, as she had to fight the persistent urge to grab Jenny’s face and force her to look directly at her. “Believe me, Miss Flint, I did not find it to be the least bit embarrassing….as long as it doesn’t bother you to disclose the private details of your life to a foolish, meddlesome stranger, of course, “Vastra responded reassuringly, while also including a sharp jab at herself for starting this in the first place.

Jenny frowned a little at this, and quickly shook her head. “You’re not a meddlesome stranger. You’re someone I trust.” She said sincerely, looking up at Vastra, their eyes meeting. “Besides, maybe it isn’t so healthy to hide your problems and wish they’ll go away for most of your adult life. It certainly doesn’t seem to have done me any good.” She frowned again, uncertain. She thought of the phone call with Vastra and her sister she listened in on, and knew that Vastra was trying to forget things as well.

“Mmmm well, I actually have several people in mine who would love to disagree with you on that,” Vastra responded in a more lighthearted tone, desperately attempting to decrease the negative aura that was surrounding them. Then thoughtfully stroking her chin out of habit, she asked, “Have you ever considered keeping a diary or journal, Miss Flint? You are absolutely right about it not being healthy to permanently suppress your feelings, but perhaps it would be helpful for you to write them down somewhere? Get them off of your chest?”

Oh, there was actually so much more that Vastra wanted to get off Jenny’s chest.

Vastra could still remember all the diaries she had kept when she was younger, and the freedom that they gave her to express herself without any restrictions within those countless blank pages.

Jenny giggled. She didn’t quite know why, but she definitely giggled. “That might have been a good idea.” She admitted slowly, the ‘but’ resting at the tip of her tongue. “But I’m rather daft. Never really thought I was very good with words, and reading,and writing. I can, of course, especially if I take lots of time like I do at work, but it’s a slow process. I really don’t think it’d be helpful, in my case..” She gave Vastra a sheepish look, feeling a little mean for turning down her advice. She did like the idea, but it didn’t feel quite right for her.

Vastra only nodded understandably, an objectively cordial smile plastered on her face as she said, “Ah, yes, I should have known that it wouldn’t necessarily work for everybody. It was just a suggestion, however, and there’s nothing that says you have to abide by it.” Biting her lip, Vastra lowered her gaze down to the floor, as she was struggling to contain this one particular question that’s been bugging her brain during the past hour. That proved to be too difficult though, and Vastra couldn’t stop her mouth from suddenly uttering, “Why do you think that your father is going to kill you?”

Ughh, what is fucking wrong with you?! When will you ever learn from your mistakes, for God’s sake! Vastra was very angry at herself for lacking better self-control, and blurting out yet another absurdly intrusive question. Although she was genuinely concerned and intrigued when Jenny mentioned something about her father killing her, Vastra had vowed to try her damn hardest not to let it escape from the mental confines of her mind. Therefore, having totally failed in that, Vastra immediately braced herself in anticipation for what she thought would be a repeat of Jenny’s earlier reaction.

“Oh” It was the first thing that came to mind as Jenny heard Vastra’s question, a simple ‘oh’ of surprise. Surprise that Vastra had actually noticed her quite offhanded comment about her father, and surprise that Vastra cared to investigate it further. As the surprise passed, Jenny felt as though there was not much left to say at all. Had she been asked earlier she might have cried, or screamed or even run for it, but now, she felt as stoic and gray as a stone, entirely void of all emotional attachment to the question. “Well, my father, he’s…he doesn’t like people who don’t obey the Bible. Who, for example, are attracted to the same sex. It’s a sin and I…well…I’m a sinner. He caught me kissing a girl and after that I didn’t have much of a choice. If they’re sinners, killing one’s child is entirely justified.” It was honestly unbelieveable that , Vastra had managed squeezed out yet another thing Jenny never talked about. It wasn’t that she was ashamed that her family for being extremely conservative, but it felt wrong to mention it when she herself couldn’t fill their standards of decency.

At first, there appeared to be no hint of a visible reaction from Vastra, because she had been struck absolutely speechless after listening to Jenny’s heartbreaking testimony. It was the same old story that she had heard from many other people in the LGBT social circles that she usually hung around, but this time with Jenny it’s somehow different because within seconds, a mighty and overwhelming inferno of righteous fury was ignited in Vastra. While she herself was fortunate enough to come out to a remarkably supportive family, just the thought of there being parents who, for some bullshit reason or another, simply cannot accept the fact that their children love the same gender, and would even go so far as to kill them, never failed to make Vastra’s blood boil hotly with anger. The way Jenny had described her father, how he had abused her solely for her sexual orientation sounded utterly barbaric to Vastra, as she found herself becoming increasingly protective of Jenny. She also imagined what it would be like to run down that bloody homophobic bastard with her motorcycle as a rightful punishment for all the damage he had inflicted against Jenny. No doubt she would have derived a most immense amount of satisfaction from it.

Vastra soon pulled herself out of her revenge fantasies, and impulsively reached over to hold Jenny’s hand in hers, before speaking bluntly, “No, don’t you ever berate yourself as a sinner like that again! I won’t stand for it! Forget everything that your asshole father said because you are definitely not a sinner! You, Miss Flint, are such a kind, beautiful, intelligent, honest, diligent, strong, and overall extraordinary individual as I have come to known throughout the course of my visit here. Your sexual preference for the fairer sex should not negate all of these positive qualities, nor should you be ashamed of being the way you are. So if your despicable bigot of a father refuse to understand that, then you might as well consider him dead to you, because I would bury him twenty feet underground if given the chance.” Vastra paused to catch her breath, her serious demeanor melting away to offer Jenny a softly compassionate smile as she concluded with, “Please trust me when I say, that even though your family may have forsaken you, I myself will always believe in you no matter what. You are worth so much more than you realize, Jenny Flint.”

The doubtless sincerity of Vastra’s words seemed to drip thick from her lips like luscious honey, which Jenny desperately longed to taste.

Jenny was entirely floored.

The effort of Vastra to show her love and appreciation and try to make up for the heaviness of her past had her stunned, shocked and overwhelmed with pure joy at the tremendous amount of care that Vastra dedicated to her. Even when young and still with a family, she hadn’t been very noticeable. A middle child among eight - too many mouths to be fed and too many expenses to be payed in the eyes of her parents - Jenny had been used to nearly not existing in the eyes of most. She was just another one , another student at the same school as four siblings before her and another pair of shoes that needed replacing when her father hadn’t had a job for weeks. Another young woman with lacking education searching for any job she could get in an effort to survive. The kind of care and kindness and love Vastra offered was something totally new. With Vastra, Jenny felt like the star of a play standing on a stage, everyone’s eyes focused solely on her. It made her heart soar and she lit up like a christmas tree at the thought.

“Thank you. Really, thank you. I…there has never been anyone showing me this much attention before, if I am to be honest. As a middle kid among eight, I….I’ve always been used to being forgotten. Well, until I do something wrong, that is, but that’s not the kind of attention you want.” She smiled, her broadest and happiest. “Thanks for caring, Vastra. For making me feel so very appreciated. You are special, too, and I’m so happy that I met you.”

Vastra couldn’t bring herself to say anything, because there was no words that could adequately describe Jenny’s radiant beauty in that moment when she is smiling and gay. It was a thrilling sensation for Vastra to be the one who could turn Jenny’s entire perspective around and help her to see the light that shines within her. There was truly nothing that she desired more than for Jenny to find the courage to love herself as perfect as she already was. She didn’t care about Jenny’s shitty childhood or her terrible abusive father, because none of that mattered anymore as she was determined to guide Jenny in moving forward from her unhappy past. Vastra’s heart was practically overflowing with pure, unconditional love towards Jenny, and even though it seemed highly unlikely that she would ever share her same romantic feelings, Vastra will never stop wanting the best of everything for Jenny.

Once she was able to recover her tongue again, Vastra gently squeezed Jenny’s hand and began to say, “Well, who else is going to to care for you if I don’’t? Really, Jenny, I promise that you will have a family of your own someday, a new and even better one. You already have Greeny….and I….I lo-”

Just as vastra was about to utter some of the most important words in her entire life, the sound of police sirens interrupted her, the noise coming from the kitchen and making itself heard all the way to the living room.

As if on cue, Jenny jumped up from her seat and ran off to the kitchen. After a while, the noise died out and she came back into the living room, her phone pressed to her ear, urgently talking to someone.

Glancing at Vastra, she whispered. “It is from work.” Before going back to talking to the person on the other end. “You know I don’t have weekend shifts this month, Jack! And yes, I am in the middle of something, too! So I’m not going to just give it up unless…wait, seriously? Oh my god! Why didn’t you say so? I’ll be there soon, bye.” Jenny hung up the phone, stress and mild panic clear on her face.

Whatever that was said in the conversation between that person and Jenny made Vastra considerably concerned, but also slightly piqued her curiosity.

“Jenny, you don’t look so well….what’s wrong? Who was that calling you?” Inquired Vastra eagerly, as she began to stand up with the intention of walking over to Jenny.

Glancing over at Vastra, and almost looking as though she just noticed she was there, Jenny frowned. “That was Jack, from work. He’s in charge of arranging all of our schedules and…he needs me to come in and work extra today. A sort of… thing happened and they need everyone they can get as soon as possible.”

Vastra arched an inquisitive eyebrow at that and said, “ Oh ….yes, I figured that it must be something serious if Scotland Yard is calling you on your day off.” She awkwardly fidgeted in her seat, uncertain on what to do next. “Anyway….I would seem that I’ve overstayed my welcome in your home. Perhaps you’d like me to leave now, so that you can get ready for work?”

An unspoken question hung in the air as Vastra and Jenny merely gazed at each other from across the room. Vastra really didn’t want to leave Jenny, who she’d fallen so incredibly hard for, or the enchantingly serene paradise consisting of just the two of them inside her apartment together. Being with Jenny had made her forget that all good things must come to an end eventually, and that she was completely powerless to prevent it.

Jenny glanced between the phone still in her hand and Vastra, a slightly guilty look on her face. She didn’t want this to end, but she felt as though she didn’t have a choice. It was extremely urgent, and she had promised Jack to come as soon as possible. “Look, I’m really sorry to have to throw you out like this, but there’s sort of a crisis going on, and I really need to get changed and get there! But we can still see each other at another time, yes?” Jenny smiled, nearly bursting at the seams with hopefulness.

Afraid that her voice might crack if she gave a verbal response, Vastra simply opted for a wry, bittersweet smile and nodded in understanding. She wordlessly retrieved her leather jacket to put it back on, hiding away her glorious arm tattoos from the view of mortal eyes once again. She then stood up before proceeding to swiftly walk towards the door, and Jenny followed suit to see her out. Jenny reached the door first and politely held it open for Vastra to go through. The Scottish woman already had one foot out the doorway when she suddenly paused, standing there like a statue as she contemplated something.

Then catching Jenny off guard, Vastra turned around and used one hand to cradle Jenny’s chin as she leaned over to plant a softly chaste kiss atop her forehead. “ Ceòthach mhadainn dh'fhaodadh a bhith latha soilleir….that’s Scottish for, ‘a misty morning may become a clear day’,” whispered Vastra as she slowly pulled away, capturing Jenny’s eyes with her own, which were full of undisclosed desires and passion. “Farewell, dear Jenny Flint, and thank you for a most splendidly memorable afternoon.”

Vastra allowed her hand to linger underneath Jenny’s chin in a rather seductive manner for several more tantalizing moments, before she abruptly spun around on her heel and marched right out of the apartment without so much as a backwards glance.

Jenny stood where Vastra left her, frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the doorway through which the unbelievably remarkable woman had just departed. Slowly, her eyes closed, her hand travelling all the way to her forehead and touching the spot where Vastra’s lips had touched it. Before her mind’s eye, Jenny could see Vastra’s beautiful lips resting on her pale skin, cool and slightly moist against her heated skin. She imagined those sweet lips traveling down her body and touching all of her. She wished to have her own lips on Vastra’s body, too, and though she knew it would probably never come true she couldn’t help but let herself get caught up in that dream for a while. A pleasant tingly warmth spread throughout her body and she smiled.

When she opened her eyes again, Jenny realised that she had spent all too much time dreaming about the most lovely scenarios with Vastra’s beautiful lips grazing her skin and her own lips kissing Vastra’s perfect face, and she quickly decided that she needed to get moving. The smile, however stayed on her face, just as the warm feeling in her chest remained there, and she kept the fantasies of her and Vastra and all that she could be with that gorgeous woman in the back of her mind for her to continue enjoying while she got dressed for work.

A misty morning may indeed become a clear day.

The golden sun hung high in the sky when Vastra emerged from the apartment complex, casting its far reaching rays upon her entire body as a kind of purifying blessing. She took several steps outside until she was approximately three feet away from the building, and only then did she finally permit herself to look back up at Jenny’s window. Vastra couldn’t resist reminiscing about the countless blissful hours that she had spent with Jenny; What had originally started as a simple veterinarian house visit to examine a client’s pet lizard, somehow gradually turned into one hell of a roller coaster ride with its numerous dramatic up and down points. Indeed, it was quite a perplexing paradox, because while Vastra found it considerably difficult to be confined in the same general area as Jenny due to her severe infatuation with the girl, she was also able to genuinely enjoy Jenny’s hospitable company nonetheless. Vastra thanked God that she was fortunate enough to bask in the magnificent aura of Jenny’s divine presence, witness her uniquely striking beauty up close with her own eyes, and engage in sociable conversation with Jenny as if they were old friends, rather than formal strangers. By the end of her tenure in Jenny’s home, Vastra truly felt like the two of them have learned so much about each other after sharing very intimate things from the deepest bottom of their souls, which helped them to form an even stronger and more meaningful connection than ever before. Never in her life did Vastra predict that she would be able to fully open herself to someone, or that a single person could have such a profound impact on her heart. Out of all the people in the world, Jenny was like a precious diamond among the rough, a cool oasis in the middle of a desert, a miraculous breeze of fresh air flowing into her lungs. Nobody else was even remotely worthy of being compared to Jenny, whose extraordinary celestial status uplifted her high above the rest of mankind in Vastra’s eyes.Everything that happened in the apartment served to confirm Vastra’s underlying belief that the feelings she harbored for Jenny weren’t just a mere crush, but undeniably true and honest love that consumed her entire being. Whether Jenny would ever reciprocate her romantic inclinations was a whole different matter, however, and there seemed to be little that Vastra could do to soothe the unbearable pain of falling for a perfect girl who she can never have. At least she could still find slight comfort in the fact that she actually got to hold Jenny in her arms, and earned her invaluable trust as a friend, which she concluded was better than nothing. Vastra’s mind continued to wander further as she remembered how conflicted she had been at the beginning, trying to decide between bravery and cowardice when Jenny first asked her to come over. Ultimately, Vastra was glad that she chose to follow her heart, because it had led her to the possibility of obtaining something much greater with Jenny.

Finally pulling herself out of her inner musings, Vastra glanced down to look at her watch.

The time was just nearing 12 PM.

Therefore, the day was still young, leaving plenty of room for an impromptu Sunday adventure. A delighted smile unconsciously spread across Vastra’s face, as she stuffed her hands into her pockets and leisurely walked the rest of the way towards her motorcycle. Once clad in her protective helmet and goggles, Vastra didn’t hesitate to rev up the motorcycle before it launched itself roaring down the road at maximum hyperspeed.

———————————————————————–

Tag/Update list (DM me to be added):

@kelticscribe @zaridaxe @antiveninn @dorvanie

#vastra and jenny #dw femslash #madame vastra #jenny flint #paternoster gang

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thecatnamedgandalf-blog · 8 years ago

Text

The Man With The Dragon Tattoo

Chapter 2

Chapter Rating: T [Warning again for bad language]

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9321221/chapters/21467801

Exhausted and feeling as though he had been hit by a train, Jesse dragged himself through the deserted corridors of the hotel. Incredibly grateful that Morrison had by some miracle managed to book out the entire place. It meant that Reyes had been able to house the eight Blackwatch agents on the same floor. Not that he didn’t like the Overwatch agents. No. Wait. That was a lie. He hated most of those bastards. Just because the public adored them it didn’t make them any better than him. He wasn’t the only one that hated their pompous attitudes. The other Blackwatch agents held the same opinions. Well, except for Reyes, but you couldn’t really count him considering he was married to Morrison.

Finally reaching the door to his room he paused, debating if he should report to Gabriel immediately. Usually he would be expected to inform his Commander about something like this as soon as it happened. On the other hand, however, he knew Gabe and Jack were sharing a room and probably wouldn’t appreciate being woken up at 2am. And not to mention the ass-whooping he would get for not going to Gabe three hours ago. With a soft sigh, Jesse dropped his head against the door. It would be better to just get it over with. He forced himself to stand up straight, absently running a hand over the cut on his cheek. If Reyes was going to get angry there was a chance Morrison would at least be able to calm him down. Not to mention he’d rather not get screamed at in front of the other agents. Despite feeling exhausted, Jesse forced himself to make the trek up the other end of the corridor to Reyes’ room. Although, the second he was there staring at the room number, 528, all his confidence drained out of him. Maybe it would be best to just wait until the morning meeting. That was only four hours from now, wasn’t like it would make much of a difference…would it? God damn it. The boss and Morrison would be so pissed with him if he woke them up now.

Jesse growled softly and shook his head. No. He’d let the boss sleep. Maybe someone else was up. McCree forced himself to walk away from the room towards the elevator. At some point before Overwatch had arrived, one of the reception rooms on the 20th floor had been converted to a temporary Blackwatch operations room. Terminals had been set up along the walls, giving the room an earie vibe. Swiping his ID card on the temporary lock that had also been installed, god damn it must have taken a lot of persuasion to get the hotel to agree to all the changes, Jesse strolled into the room. To his surprise and relief there were three other agents in the room.

The senior agent in the room was a 6ft 4 Scotsman called Michael Kane. His physical build almost identical to Reyes’ own, despite Kane never having gone through the SEP. He stood at the back of the temporary operations room, looking between a tablet and one of the monitors. About three feet to his left stood Natham Geras, a short slender man from Athens, and one of the quickest men alive. Next to him sat the steely-eyed English agent, Johnathan Pope. He was perhaps Jesse’s favourite agent next to Reyes, the man having helped him set up numerous pranks around the base. Being the youngest and least experienced man in the room, Jesse suddenly felt no bigger than an ant. Yes, the men were decent people and wouldn’t beat him for no reason, but that didn’t mean they would give him a verbal beating. Jesse took a deep breath and walked further into the room, the door automatically shutting behind him.

“Mornin’” He said softly, not quite comfortable with the silence of the room.

Geras looked up from the terminal he was observing. “Kaliméra Jesse” He greeted “It is not like you to be up this early” Jesse shifted from one foot to another, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Somethin’ happened earlier ‘nd I didn’t wanna wake the boss.”

“Does it have something to do with the cut on your face?” This time it was Kane who had spoken. Jesse blinked and brought a hand up to touch the cut on his face, not quite sure how Kane knew. The man hadn’t even looked up his tablet.

“Uh…yeah” By now he had the attention of all three men and was feeling even more uncomfortable.

“Sit your arse down” Kane ordered. He placed the tablet on top of one of the terminals and walked towards the other men. Jesse cleared his throat and sat down in the chair closest to him.

“Was it one of the Overwatch twats?” Pope asked propping his feet up on a spare chair. “Not like you to get into a fight McCree”

“Nah” Jesse replied “I’m more than capable of knocking them out if they touch me. Was havin’ a smoke out in the garden a few hours ago, mindin’ my own business when Hanzo fucking Shimada snuck up on me” Immediately the other three men stiffened, Pope leant forward resting his chin in his hands.

“He attacked you?”

“Sorta?” A raised eyebrow from Kane and Jesse continued “Told me he knew that we were investigatin’ them and if we get doin it he’d kill me ‘n the Commanders” When the men didn’t say anything Jesse couldn’t help himself, he started rambling. “I’m worried I fucked up, but I was so sure no one caught me doin’ anything. Hell, Reyes said it was a good clean job. Dunno how Shimada knows anythin’ but I swear on my hat I did everythin’ by the book” Geras chuckled and moved to stand beside him, placing a hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“Irémise McCree.” Jesse blinked “I said calm down.” Jesse’s mouth made an ‘O’ shape.

“Shimada was probably playing mind games kid” Kane said though he sounded unconvinced by his own words “If Reyes thinks you did a good job, then you did. He was probably trying to unnerve you, size you up and work out if you’re a credible threat or someone who can be easily disposed of.” Ah. That raised some problems. If Shimada truly knew nothing and had been fishing for information, Jesse had just confirmed his suspicions and made the rest of the investigations incredibly difficult for Blackwatch. Retreating into his own mind Jesse questioned whether he should inform Kane of his slip up. “McCree!” The shout of his name immediately brought him back to reality. “You’re looking guilty, what did you do?” Now he felt even more pathetic than before, he couldn’t even keep a straight face for God’s sake.

“I definitely fucked up” Jesse confirmed, dropping his head into his hands with a groan. “I’ve really fucked up”

Pope raised an eyebrow and shared a brief look with Kane “What did you do Jesse?”

“When Shimada was up in my face I…” He sighed “I snapped at ‘im. Told ‘im that it ain’t right to go around killin people like they did in Hong Kong.” The blank looks they gave him convinced him to continue “Also said that I’d find anythin’ he was hidin’” The three men groaned in unison, as though they had practiced it beforehand.

“Pope go and get Reyes.” The man nodded and left the operations room. “God damn it McCree. How many times have we told you to watch what you say?!” Kane demanded, standing up and looming over him. “If the Shimada knew nothing then you just confirmed his suspicions! And if he did, you’ve just shown him you’re a fucking weak link!” Jesse had begun to sink in on himself during the Scotsman’s tirade. Kane continued to rant at him, his Glaswegian accent thickening to the point where Jesse struggled to understand some of the things being roared in his face. A jab about his mama being ashamed of him struck deep, and his eyes began to burn with tears. The abuse was nothing new. He had heard it all during his time with Deadlock, but coming from one of the men Jesse admired it stung.

“Arketá, arketá!” Geras shouted as he forced himself between Kane and McCree, one hand on the bigger man’s chest. “So far nothing has been compromised. If Shimada already knew we were investigating his family then Jesse has done nothing wrong. Silence would have confirmed his suspicions, and lies would have resulted in more investigations and possible torture.” It was rare to see Geras angry with one of their own, but the man’s voice had risen several decibels as he ranted. “There is no point shouting at McCree when the deed has been done. Nothing can be done now and we must work around it. If he is to be published it is the Commander’s decision, not ours.” Geras bristled as he continued speaking “Insulting the boy and using his mother against him is low. You should be ashamed.”

“He isn’t a boy Geras. He’s twenty-two for fuck sake”

Geras snorted “He is the youngest of all of us, and shall be a boy in my eyes until he surpasses me in height.” If he didn’t feel so utterly shitty Jesse would have chuckled. No way was he ever going to hit 6ft. His mama and pa had both been tiny as well as grandparents, Jesse came from a long line of short people. Jesse risked a glance up at Kane and relaxed ever so slightly when he saw the other man was still focused on arguing with Geras. He took the time to wipe away the tears, hoping that no one would notice them. Of course, it was that exact moment when Reyes walked in. The Blackwatch Commander stiffening as soon as he caught the distraught look on McCree’s face.

“Jefe” Jesse croaked and Reyes saw red. He’d been woken up at 2.30 in the morning, pulled away from his peaceful dreams and Jack curled up in his arms, and told he was needed in operations control. Now his mijo looked petrified and had been crying. Someone was getting punched. Hard.

“What the fuck is going on here?” He demanded. Immediately Geras and Kane went silent, standing to attention when their Commander stalked over to stand in front of them both. “Answer me!”

“I fucked up jefe” Reyes looked in Jesse’s direction. The young man had lowered his head and was fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “I told Hanzo Shimada we were investigatin’ em.” That had not been the answer he was expecting. Reyes stared at him for a few moments.

“How and why?” Jesse shifted in his seat and repeated the story once more. When he was done, Reyes sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“Mierda” He cursed, taking a seat beside McCree. “This is an issue, yes. But it does not mean you can scream at the kid, Kane.” The man in question frowned and folded his arms over his chest. “I remember you fucking up several times when you were still new. Give him a break, not everyone can be an emotionless fuck.” Kane bristled but otherwise remained silent. “We just need to up our game. From now on only Matthews and Zhou will be doing any form of infiltrating, at least until we are certain the Shimada’s are not following our every move. In the mean time, we carry on as we’ve been doing.” Reyes turned his attention back to Jesse “And if Shimada’s taken an interest in you, the last thing we need is you vanishing for hours on end” Jesse blinked, his brain taking a few seconds to catch up on what Reyes was hinting it.

“But jefe-“Reyes raised a hand, instantly silencing Jesse.

“Don’t argue with me McCree” Reyes said, digging into his back pocket and pulling a cigarette out. “Until this calms down, if it does, I’m putting you under Morrison’s command.” He lit the cigarette with a lighter produced from another pocket. Jesse was stunned. Yeah, he’d been expecting to be pulled off a few operations, but to be put under Morrison’s command? That was a punch to the gut. “Get yourself to bed McCree” Reyes ordered taking another drag of his cigarette. “I’ll inform Morrison about the changes once he’s up.”

Jesse forced himself to his feet, snapping out a salute to Gabriel and scampered from the room. The walk back to his room was hazy, whether that was a result of his exhaustion or shock he wasn’t sure. Either way, when he finally managed to get back to his room it took a lot of effort to take his clothes off before collapsing onto his bed. He glanced at the digital clock at the side of his bed, 3.05 am. He’d be lucky to get any sleep. Jesse sighed heavily and stared up at the ceiling, running his hands over his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be awful.

“Guten Morgen meine Freunde!” It was far too early for Reinhardt’s boisterous voice Jesse lamented, why he had chosen to see beside the massive man was a mystery. By the time he had finally fallen asleep it had been past 4 am, which meant he’d had about 3 hours sleep at most. The lack of sleep combined with the knowledge he would no longer be working with Reyes, had Jesse feeling like he’d just been hit by a truck. No. Being hit by a truck would be preferable. He finally managed to pull his eyes away from his food and watched as Morrison and Reyes sat themselves down at the table.

“Morning Reinhardt, McCree” Morrison said, carefully setting his plate and coffee down. Beside him Reyes grunted a greeting and buried his face in his own mug of coffee. The man looked as though he’d been awake since Pope had woken him up. His exhaustion only served to make Jesse feel even worse. Not only had he disappointed the man who’d saved his life, he’d caused him to get even less sleep than he normally had. God. He really needed to stop screwing up. Jail really wasn’t an appealing idea.

“You look tired Gabriel” Reinhardt began, scooping up a forkful of scrambled eggs. “Is everything ok?” Reyes muttered something unintelligible. Whatever he said wasn’t suitable for polite company as Morrison rolled his eyes, and slapped the back of his head. Huffing Gabriel straightened up and put his half empty mug down.

“Long night” He grunted, stealing a rasher of bacon from Morrison’s plate. “The Shimada’s keep causing more problems.”

“Speaking of the Shimada’s” Oh Lord. Jesse practically curled in on himself as Morrison spoke “You’re not in trouble Jesse” Jack said softly, setting his fork down. Uncomfortable with the attention from the three veteran soldiers, Jesse forced himself to sit up straight and look Morrison in the eyes. He and Morrison had never really seen eye-to-eye. The Strike-Commander having been one of those against Jesse’s recruitment. Over the last three years however, that had changed. Mainly since Jesse accidentally walked in on some private time between his Commanders, oh how he had wished for brain bleach that day. “I hear you’re being put under my command, temporarily” He added the last word almost as an afterthought.

“Yes sir”

Jack nodded and took a quick swig of his coffee. “I can’t assign you to one of my squads, the sub-commanders don’t know how you work.” Oh great. “That being said, Reinhardt your squad are going to patrol the old factory district this morning yes?”

“Ja” Reinhardt confirmed.

“I’m assigning Jesse to your patrols for now.” Jesse paused in his eating, fork hovering a few centimetres from his mouth.

“Das ist gut” The second Reinhardt started chuckling Jesse set the fork down and braced himself. If he’d still been holding his fork the food would have gone everywhere, as seconds later Reinhardt was pulling him against his side. “Jesse is most welcome to join us!” Jesse risked looking at Reyes and wished he hadn’t. The man was smirking, which only deepened the wound. He was glad to not have Jesse under his command. And here Jesse thought he’d made Reyes proud. Obviously not. “What do you think Jesse?” Jesse snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at Reinhardt.

“Huh?” Well done Jesse, that was intelligent. Reinhardt laughed and squeezed him a little tighter, not that Jesse had thought such a thing was possible.

-- He never did find out what it was Reinhardt had asked him, Jesse thought sullenly as he walked through the streets of Hanamura. Visibility was limited as a thick fog had rolled in during the first hour of their patrol. Light rain only added to the dreary and unsettling atmosphere. The sounds of Reinhardt’s loud footsteps and those of himself and the other agents echoed through the empty streets. Jesse glanced up at the rooftops, blinking multiple times when a few rain drops landed in his left eye. He pulled the edge of his hat down to protect his eyes. Movement on a roof three buildings away caught his attention. So not to bring attention to himself he slowly dropped back until he was walking beside Reinhardt.

“I have seen him” The older man rumbled softly, startling him. Jesse had to give it to Reinhardt. The man might be boisterous and large in stature, but he missed nothing.

“This normal?” Jesse asked

“Ja. They have been following us since we first arrived.” Reinhardt cleared his throat, swinging his hammer up to rest it on his right shoulder.

“Jefe and Morrison know?” A nod.

“The Strike-Commander informed me of your…altercation last night.” Reinhardt began. “Do not think of your reassignment as a punishment Jesse.” His voice was softer than Jesse had ever heard before, though that did not stop Jesse from making sure the other agents weren’t listening in on their conversation. “Having you in the public eye is important. The Shimadas cannot- Brown! Woodley!” Up ahead two of the agents had started brawling pushing one another, but it was Brown throwing the first punch that caused Reinhardt to intervene. Reinhardt cleared his throat and continued “Pardon. As I was saying, if the Shimadas are aware you were involved in Blackwatch operations, your presence on my patrols prevents them from making claims against you. You cannot be investigating them if you are seen by my side.”

Jesse was silent. What could he say to that? He’d spent the better part of the last twelve hours thinking Reyes was disappointed and ashamed of him. It made sense. It was possible that Jesse was the only agent the Shimadas knew to be involved. If it that was indeed true, then ensuring he was constantly in the public eye would limit any damage should the Shimadas make public claims against Overwatch.

He was snapped from his thoughts when one of the agents shouted. “Sir!” Followed by the sound of guns being pulled from their holsters. Jesse and Reinhardt promptly sped up, marching to the front of the patrol. It was Woodley who had shouted, his pulse rifle now aimed at three Shimada scouts who had walked out of a side street and now blocked their path. The three scouts parted and Hanzo fucking Shimada walked towards them, his younger brother (Genji was it?) by his side.

“Shimada-san” Reinhardt greeted, lowering his hammer and signalling for his men to lower their weapons. Though reluctant each man did as he bid. “I apologise. We were startled by the sudden presence of your men.” The Hanzo that stood before them now was different to the one Jesse had encountered the night before. Gone was the smirk, replaced by pure stoicism. Instead it was Genji who bore the grin.

Even knowing how foolish he was being Jesse was unable to stop himself from admiring Hanzo. He knew Hanzo was a violent man, one who would kill to gain what he wants, but there was something about him. Perhaps it was the hair, a curtain of black silk falling over his shoulders and down his back. Perhaps it was those eyes, darker and warmer than any he had ever seen before. Or perhaps it was that voice, a warm and rich baritone that pierced his heart. And those lips. When he finally came back to himself Jesse noticed Genji was sending a predatory grin in his direction. God damn. Unable to stop himself Jesse tipped his hat to the green-haired Shimada, along with a flirtatious grin. Probably not the smartest thing he had ever done in his life, but god damn if the look Hanzo sent him wasn’t worth it. Reinhardt took a partial step back, ensuring his left leg collided with Jesse, a subtle warning.

“It is of no concern” Hanzo assured him, his attention moving from Jesse back to Reinhardt. “I admit that we did not come across you by accident alone.”

“We could not pass up the opportunity to see the legendary Wilhelm Reinhardt and his armour.” Genji laughed. Oh, the look Hanzo shot his brother would certainly have killed a lesser man. “I must say, you certainly live up to the legends.” Reinhardt chuckled and bowed at the compliment.

“I thank you Shimada-san, but I sense there is something more than a simple desire to see my armour.” Hanzo turned to one of his men and held a hand out, accepting a tablet passed to him by one of his men.

“In the early hours of this morning several our scouts encountered an entourage of rogue Omnics. They had been hiding one of the derelict factories. Unfortunately, during this encounter one of our own, an Omnic named Kanato, who has served our clan for many years, turned on those he would call ‘brother’. It would appear he was no longer in control of himself.” That didn’t bode well. “My men eliminated the rogue Omnics and were able to subdue Kanato. Upon returning to our home he seemed to come back to himself. We believe this is because of the sonic EMP disruptors we have erected along the walls as security measures.” Reinhardt frowned, his hands coming to settle on his hips.

“This is most concerning” He began “I am required to report this immediately to Strike-Commander Morrison”

“I would expect nothing less” Hanzo took a step forward and offered the tablet he still held “You will find a full report on the encounter, and a recording of Kanato’s statement.” When Reinhardt made no move to accept the tablet, Jesse did so on his behalf. If the thing was rigged to blow it would be better for Jesse to lose an arm instead of Reinhardt. Jesse inhaled sharply when his fingers brushed against Hanzo’s. Immediately he retreated and moved to the side, placing a safe distance between himself and the other agents. He had never been a genius when it came to technology, but he was experienced and talented enough to know how to check for anything out of the ordinary. Coming across nothing unusual Jesse gave Reinhardt a single nod.

The German man turned back to Hanzo “Thank you. I am sure we shall meet once more.”

“Indeed. We are of course, fighting a common enemy.” Hanzo inclined his head. “Reinhardt-san”

“Shimada-san” With that the two Shimada’s left with their men, disappearing into the alley from which they had initially appeared. The moment they were gone from view Reinhardt turned to the men under his command.

“We must return at once.”

“No way that was a fucking coincidence” Woodley muttered under his breath.

“Of course not” Reinhardt replied, slapping him on the back “We are in a den of wolves, it would be most unwise to underestimate them.”

Translations:

[Apologies if anything is incorrect. I am relying on limited knowledge and the help of friends, because I sure as heck don’t trust Google Translate haha!]

Greek: Kaliméra: Good morning Irémise: Calm down Arketá: Enough

Spanish: Jefe: Boss Mijo: Son Mierda: Fuck

German: Guten morgen meine freunde: Good morning my friends Das ist gut: That is fine Gut: Good

#McHanzo #McHanzo fanfic #fanfiction #Overwatch #Overwatch fanfic #pre-recall #young hanzo shimada #Young Jesse McCree

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