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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years

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I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 4:

You’re paranoid.

Terribly, terribly paranoid, and even if you’re aware of it, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing you can do to quell the anxiety that wells up every time another person enters your space. Every time their skin nearly brushes yours, even accidentally, just for a split second.

It’s maddening. Nearly debilitating the way you’re flinching away from people. You can see your co-workers notice too, fellow nurses suddenly giving you odd looks every time you reject a high five. Even when you’re wearing your gloves. It’s just a panic reaction at this point- a fixation on trying to keep your quirk as least exhaustive an experience as it can be.

On one hand, you still really dislike Bakugou- nearly hate him for bringing it up to you- but, on the other hand, he did manage to figure it out. He somehow managed to figure out what you never could, and all in a matter of minutes from your relatively short interactions. It made you think that maybe he could be really smart- if he didn’t spend so much time killing his own brain-cells with every juvenile insult he spewed at you.

You wondered if that was just him, or he really did hate you that much. Surely he couldn’t be that much of a monster to other people, right? Right?

Wrong.

You remember Kirishima, how he apologized for Bakugou nearly the second he walked through the door. It hits you then that you’re definitely not the first person he’d seemed to mercilessly terrorize- you’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

Actually, on second thought, maybe it makes you feel worse. No, it definitely makes you feel worse. So much worse, in fact, that just the sight of his face nearly sends you into an irrational rage. Even now, weeks after the last time he’d personally ruined your day, you were still mad. Still angry. Still cursing every time you saw those red eyes on every billboard, newspaper, and billboard in town.

Well, lucky for you, you didn’t have to look at those printed eyes anymore. Not when the real ones were right in front of you- scaring you shitless as you leave the hospital.

You had left the hospital from the back exit, tired and crabby from your late shift, grumbling as you stepped out into the alleyway. You’d hardly seen him, just the slightest glimpse of movement behind the tall dumpsters, before he’s practically in your face.

“Jesus!” You gasp, curling your arms around your stomach. Your legs feel like jelly. “Don’t do that! Scared me half to death!”

“Oh, chill the hell out, ya fuckin’ baby. You’re fine.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, falling into step next to you.

He looks worse for the wear, just like every other time you’ve seen him, exhaustion coloring his complexion something sickly. There’s an angry purple bruise covering his cheek, a few cuts, and even more bruising dotting his scarred knuckles. A tiny, vindictive part of you thinks it serves him right, but you keep it to yourself. You’re better than that.

You want to be nice to him, truly you do, but he’s made it pretty hard. Concerning you, Bakugou’s pretty much dug his grave at this point, and he only makes it worse with his next works.

“You need to do something for me.” He orders suddenly. “Now.”

“A-are you asking me? For help? Is that what this is?”

“What? No- obviously fucking not.” He sneers, nostrils flaring. “Why the hell would I go and do something like that. That’s stupid. Weak.”

“Oh. Okay. So then two seconds ago, when you were telling me that I ‘need’ to do something for you, what was that?” You squint your eyes at him, eyebrow twitching with annoyance. “That wasn’t you asking for help?”

“No. ‘s an order.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay- an order. Because you’re totally in a position to make those.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” You spin on your heels, nearly crashing into his chest since he followed so closely behind you. Still, you figure the promixity is all the better for gesturing, so you don’t miss a beat, waving your hands emphatically. “My shift just ended, alright? That means I’m not on the clock, and you’re not a patient. I don’t have to suck it up and help you unless I want to. Understand?”

Bakugou seems to bristle at your tone, eyes narrowing as his lip curls. You just try to shrug it off. If he wants to be mad in the middle of the alley, fine- but you’ve had a long day and you’re going home. You spin around again, walking briskly into the street, and it takes him a few moments to catch up.

“I told you, Bakugou, I’m not helping you just because you tried to order me to.”

“I know.”

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Walking.”

It’s his tone; that same needling, challenging edge to it that has your blood boiling. If anyone else said that, you’d probably believe it. But he’s not just walking and Bakugou’s smirk makes that very clear.

“No. You’re following me.”

“Same fuckin’ direction. Sue me, leech.”

The street lamps cast spots that yellow out his already pale skin, and the longer you walk the more withered he looks. Bakugou seems utterly burnt out, and when you look really close, all his features are slumped. It’s a stark contrast to Dynamite’s turbo-charged public persona, and it makes you wonder why he’d even let you see him like this at all. You figure whatever it is must be making him pretty desperate.

Suddenly that same, sinking, sympathetic feeling has you letting up a bit. You slow your pace, catching his gaze as you internally curse your own soft heart.

“Okay. Fine. What’s up. What can I help you with?”

Bakugou squints his eyes, almost like he doesn’t believe you. You think that’s a little fair- most times, even you can hardly believe all that you’re capable of forgiving.

“Sleep.” He finally says, bitten out tightly under his breath.

“You want me to help you sleep?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Not obvious.”

“Would be if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If that’s supposed to be a dig- save it.” You roll your eyes, trying to tamper down the irritation. “I did notice. That you look tired. Just didn’t mention it out of kindness, so don’t think you can start bringing my skills into question.”

You turn down another side street, and Bakugou follows. There’s less light so you miss the way his eyes scan the lurking shadows; intense and immediate, like a habit he can’t help himself from indulging in.

“You really live around here?” He suddenly asks, voice low and gruff.

“Yep. In the apartment complexes just up there.” You point off into the distance. “Why-”

“And your shift always end this late?”

“Yes?”

“God,” He laughs something disbelieving under his breath, rolling his eyes at you. “I was fuckin’ right. You really are the stupidest goddamn person walking the planet.”

“That’s- Do you ever think about your words? Seriously!” You huff, curling your fists. You hope it’ll quell your sudden urge to hit him. “Just because you think it, doesn’t mean you should say it! And who the hell are you to judge anyway-”

“You’re fuckin’ asking to be attacked. That’s stupid. ”

“By who?”

“Weirdos, idiot.”

“You’re the weirdo! You’re the one following me home right now!”

“I’m not following you-”

“Really? You’re not? Because right now, the way you’re walking? Maybe all of two steps behind me? On a dark street? At night? Sort of seems like creepy following is exactly what you’re doing!”

“I told you, you need to do something for me. Not leaving till you do.” He grumbles, digging a bruised knuckle into his temples. “And keep it the fuck down. Your screaming sounds like a dying animal.”

“My-” You seethe for a moment, hardly able to stand his attitude. Then you take a breath because you prided yourself on being a kind person, and kind people do not kill national heroes- even when they’re being asses. “You know, it is almost unbelievable how bad you are at asking for help.”

“Told ya, already. ‘m not fuckin’ asking for help.”

“Then why are you even here bothering me? Go bother someone else!”

“If fuckin’ anyone else could do anythin’, believe me, I’d go to them instead.”

“God, do you even understand how rude that is?” You ask him incredulously, hand grasping at the door to your apartment building. “No, seriously, are you even aware of what you sound like to other people?”

“Not my fuckin’ problem that other people are sensitive.”

Your eyes bulge at that, mouth nearly dropping in disbelief. You couldn’t believe him. You just couldn’t believe that a single person could possibly go through life with that callous of a mentality. It was insanity. Pure insanity.

“So, leech, you gonna put me to fuckin’ sleep or not?”

Just kidding- that was insanity. That sentence alone was proof of just how ridiculous your life had gotten since he’d crash landed into it.

Bakugou seems to realize his words simultaneously, his cheeks flushing red under the outdoor lights. You almost laugh, but then he’s glaring, eyes sternly set and murderous. For a moment, you really believe he was gonna blow you up right where you were standing.

“Say a goddamn word. Do it. I fuckin’ dare you. Leech.” He sneers. “Try me.”

“At this hour? No, uh, no thanks.”

Bakugou does seem to relax at your joke, albeit begrudgingly. He drops his shoulders, rolling his eyes, and clears his throat. “Now, seriously, you gonna fuckin’ do it or not?”

A part of you wants to say no- to hold your gift over his head, to lord it just out of reach until he figures out how to not insult you with every breath. Then you think of your job, of all the civilians who come in swearing up and down that Dynamite was a hero. And you believe them, truly, but you think that Bakugou has a long way to go. An especially long way.

But, even so, your fingers are itching again in your gloves. There’s that urge coursing through your veins, your thoughts a constant loop of heal, help, save and so it’s decided. Quickly. Almost like it was never even a question in the first place- and, knowing yourself, you suppose it never really was.

“Fine. I will. On one condition.”

“Condition? When the fuck did I say it was a negotiation. It’s not.”

“It is and I’ll tell you why.” You spin to face him completely, jumping back when you find him much closer than expected. Your retreat till your back hits the door, but you feel no less cramped than before. “You need me. You do. Don’t bother denying it because you wouldn’t be here otherwise. And the funny thing is, I would’ve done it! Would’ve done it entirely free of charge if you just asked nicely, and-”

“Will you get to the fuckin’ point already?”

“See! That! That’s why there’s a condition! Because you’re needlessly rude! All the time from what I’ve seen. And that’s got to change. Especially if you’re gonna ask for my help more than just this one time.”

“God- how many fuckin’ times do I need to make this clear to you? Hah?” Bakugou growls, leaning in even more. You can see it in his wild eyes- he’s trying to scare you, crowding you against the door. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you- You don’t make the fuckin’ rules here.”

“In this I do.” You swallow nervously, trying not to let your intimidation show. “So you’re gonna listen. My condition is this- if you want me to help you, then you have to learn to play nice. That means no names, no insults, no threats, no complaints, and no attitude. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

Bakugou swears under his breath, eyes blazing as he holds his stare. Truthfully, it makes you nervous, but you’re not one to back down. At least, not when there’s no threat of job loss involved. So you just squint back at him, jutting your jaw out in defiance. There’s a tense few seconds of silence, his eyes searching, but then he backs off. Nostrils flaring like a bull, Bakugou relents.

“Fuckin’ fine. Whatever. Jesus.” He swears, hand curling into a fist at his side. “If you’re gonna be such a bitc-”

“I said, no names, Bakugou.”

He just rolls his eyes, face so very pinched, and you briefly wonder if he’s going to explode. There’s anger as he suddenly shoves you away from the door, yanking it open and letting himself into the building. Then he’s stomping through the lobby, and you’re hardly able to catch up by the time Bakugou stops in front of the elevator.

“What fuckin’ floor, leech?”

“Once again, I said no names. None. Especially not that one.” You tell him sternly, trying to keep your voice down. “And you didn’t agree. You’re not following me and I’m not helping you unless you agree.”

If possible, you think Bakugou’s expression grows even more irritated, his eyes widening as he sets his jaw. Another few seconds pass, and when he sees you won’t relent, Bakugou nods. It’s tight and strained, stunted like the acquiescence physically pains him.

“God, you’re lucky I’m nice.” You tell him, nearly stabbing the elevator button as you press it. “Really lucky.”

“And you’re lucky I don’t have enough energy to beat the shit out of you right now.”

“No threats, Bakugou. You agreed.” You say easily, stepping into the elevator as it opens.

“Had to. Because your fuckin’ terms are bullshit.”

“Hey, no complaints. You agreed to that too.”

You think you hear something strangled leave his mouth, but it’s swallowed up by the sound of the elevator ascending.

Now that you’re standing in better lighting, you can see Bakugou’s face clearly. He looked bad before, but he looks worse now. There wasn’t just one bruise on his face, there was multiple- his jaw colored burgundy and his nose and lip split open. There was no blood, but there wasn’t a lot of scabbing either. It was new. These injuries were new.

You think back to that first visit- when he told you he never really got hurt. You wonder what’s been going so wrong for him lately. It seemed like all he’d done since you’d met him was get hurt.

“Stop fuckin’ staring.”

“I-I’m not. Not like that.” You say. “I’m assessing. You’re gonna need a butterfly bandage, on your nose- skin moves too much. And a cold compress for your jaw. Maybe some disinfectant on your lip. Probably should get your knuckles wrapped too and-”

“Jesus, I fuckin’ get it.”

You roll your eyes, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings. You walk out into the hallway, Bakugou trailing behind you like a shadow. It’s not until you’re at your door, twisting your key into the lock, that you pause.

You’re about to enter your apartment, with Bakugou of all people. A guy you’re not even sure can tolerate you. And yet you’re doing it- because he needs help. Because he looks like walking death and you’ve got a first aid kit under your bathroom sink. Because he’s pretty much proved himself to be an irredeemable asshole, but yet you still can’t bring yourself to leave him out in the cold.

Because you’re an empath, and that, by default, makes you an idiot.

You turn the key. Bakugou, to his credit, looks a little uneasy, but then you’re waving him through the door, and pushing it shut behind him.

“So, you wait here.” You gesture towards your couch, moving aside a few pillows to make him room to sit. “I’m gonna go get all that stuff I talked about.”

“So, what, you’re just like playing fuckin’ nice nurse again, now?”

“Bakugou. No attitude please- I am nice, okay? All the time. Or, at least when others are nice to me.” You say, levelling him with an unimpressed look. “And even if they’re not, I still don’t like seeing them hurt. Not if I can do something about it.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help.”

“No, but you need it. And since you’re too stubborn to ask for it, I’m just gonna have to force it on you.”

“Do you even fuckin’ hear yourself?” Bakugou prickles, voice rising. “Acting like a goddamn savior. Like you’re so fuckin’ good and holy. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not.” You say flatly. Then you’re pivoting on your heels, leaving him behind and you grab the first aid kit. You open the bathroom door, calling over your shoulder. “And if you have such a problem with it, then leave. Nobody is keeping you here.”

You hear Bakugou swear again, so angry and seething that you almost believe he’ll take you up on your offer; but then you hear footsteps across the floor, the creaking of your couch.

You reach under your sink, pulling out the kit and a few extra rags for a compress. When you look in the mirror there’s exhaustion lacing your features, your eyes worn and dark with bags. The sight makes a part of you want to forget it all- makes you want to surrender to the ache in your bones and tell him to leave; but that’s just a small part. The larger part is telling you that you’re not spent until you’re unconscious, and that right now, Bakugou looks a whole lot worse than you feel. It’s telling you to hurry up and help him and you agree.

When you walk back out, supplies in hand, Bakugou’s slumped on your couch. He’s got his head tilted over the back, one hand resting on his stomach and the other thrown over his eyes. He shifts at the sound of your approach, dropping his hand and as blinks blearily. You think his eyes look a little duller than before- less like raging wildfire and more like smothered embers. If you didn’t know any better it would look like begruding acceptance- but this was Bakugou, and you knew better.

“So,” You start, setting all of your things down on the couch next to him. “You wanna go to sleep now? Or wait until after I fix up pretty much the entirety of your face?”

He looks at you unsurely, eyebrows creasing.

“Wait, actually- how are you planning to get home?” You continue, hands on your hips. “Where do you even live? Around here? Close? Because you were out in like, 10 minutes, maybe, the last time I touched you, so it’s gotta be close. You live close right? Because-”

“God, cool it with the fuckin’ word vomit. Shit’s annoying. Shut up.” He grumbles. “I’m sleeping here.”

“Who decided? You?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, striding closer to the back of your couch. You lean over him, forcing him meet your eyes. “This is what I’m talking about! With the learning to play nice thing! I would’ve let you stay here, I would’ve, had you asked. You can’t just bulldoze your way into my house and refuse to leave!”

“Yeah? ‘n just what the fuck are you gonna do about it if I do?” He scoffs, curling his lip as he snarls. “Nothing. Because you’re so fuckin’ nice, right?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a bad trait and I won’t have you insulting it. I’m not embarrassed of who I am.” You try to work through your frustration, centering yourself with a deep breath. “Look, bottom line is, ask next time. Or I’m not helping you until you do.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

You try to shrug off his petulant response, taking another calming breath as you shuck off your gloves. You replace them with latex ones from the kit, pulling the material over your fingers as you grab the antiseptic wipes. You decide to start around the cut on his nose. It’s the largest and widest, spanning over the entirety of his bridge and into his right cheek. It’s a nasty thing, deep and red, all exposed nerves beneath a thin scab and you can tell it hurts him. Bakugou fights to keep from wincing, eyes scrunching slightly as you wipe the remnants of dirt and oil from his skin.

“This from another villan?” You ask calmly, finding an easy peace in performing familiar tasks. “One today?”

“Cuts are from today. Bruises were yesterday.”

Blinking down at him, you’re a little surprised by how easy his answer was. You expected him to fight, to be difficult just because he could, but Bakugou wasn’t doing that. He was lying relatively and still and sated under your fingertips, the only sign of any tension are his minutely pinched eyebrows. Briefly, you check your gloves- for a moment there you were sure you’d accidentally touched him.

“Oh. Okay.” You reply, taking a small butterfly bandage from your kit. You press it over the cut with gentle pressure. “How’s the other guy look?”

“Fuckin’ terrible. Beat ‘em to hell.”

“I’m sure you did.” You snort, moving on to clean the cut on his lip. “Hey, you wanna know something?”

Bakugou peeks a red eye open, studying your face above him. He nods.

“I actually end up treating a lot of your victims, you know.”

“Criminals. Not victims.”

“Mhm. Sure. Well, either way, they’re always covered in burns. Mostly minor, but sometimes pretty nasty ones.” You try to keep your voice light, even and steady as you dab at his lip. “Honestly, at this point, I’m pretty sure you’re entirely responsible for the hospital’s chronic burn-cream shortage.”

Bakugou does seem to smile at that, exhaling through his nose as his eyes flutter briefly. “Wouldn’t be fuckin’ short if people just stopped tryin’ to pull stupid shit all the time. ‘s not my fault they’re so fuckin’ bad at running away.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out your lips. “You can’t say that!’

“Why the fuck not? Hah? It’s true.”

“Because! You’re supposed to be playing nice, remember?”

“Yeah. To you.” He mumbles, voice rough and raspy. “Because you fuckin’ schemed your way into forcing me. They didn’t.”

“Okay- First, I’m like, pretty sure schemed and forced are the same thing, so we definitely don’t need to say them both. It’s just overkill. Second, that’s a borderline insult, so I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth. And third,” You cradle his jaw in your fingers, turning it to the side. “How the hell did you manage to get a bruise behind your ear?”

“I don’t know- probably the same way you somehow managed to become a nurse; even with such shitty fuckin’ bedside manner. You suck, leech.”

Your jaw drops.

“Bakugou!”

He cracks his eyes open, something small and pleased settling at the corner of his mouth. There’s almost as much venom in his voice as before but his eyes are softer now. They’re kinder, crinkling just slightly at the edges.

He’s joking. You realize. He doesn’t actually mean it. Not this time.

“You dick.” You reprimand, flicking his hairline lightly. “You absolute dick.”

His eyes just seem to grow a little brighter at that, just for a second, and then he’s shutting them again. There’s still a smirk on his face though- one you’d swear you’d slap off if he wasn’t actually being somewhat pleasant right now. For once in his life, it seemed.

“Alright,” You announce, rounding the couch quickly. “Your knuckles look just as bad so give ‘em.”

“No thanks.”

“It wasn’t really a suggestion.”

“I don’t need anymore of your pity help, leech.”

“It’s not pity. Not even a little bit.” You sigh. “Look, I know you’re not gonna understand this, but I seriously cannot chill the hell out without at least trying to take care of people. My quirk makes my fingers literally itch when I see injuries. They itch and they don’t stop itching until I do something about it. Helping people, healing people, is hard-wired into me- it’s as much something I do for me as it is something I do for others.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen at that. He sits a little straighter, fists clenching as he presses them into the cushions. A few beats pass and then he’s grumbling, throwing himself back as he thrusts both of his injured knuckles forward.

“God, you’re so fucking irritating.” He gripes. “If you’re gonna be such a weirdo about it, then get the hell to it already.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead kneeling next to your coffee table and settling on the ground. You take his hands in yours, bending all his fingers to make sure nothing is broken. When nothing is, you look up at Bakugou, planning to tell him the good news, but he’s already looking at you. Your eyes meet, and he blinks, once, twice, before averting his eyes quickly. You think that maybe he blushes too, but he turns his head so sharply you’re almost convinced you imagined it.

You just try to shrug it off, focusing your attention back on his hands. You notice how warm they are again, nearly feverish and strangely unblemished. When you start rubbing bruise cream over knuckles, kneading the joints between your fingers, Bakugou sighs slumps back into the couch. He closes his eyes once more.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No. Can’t. Fuckin’ told ya already.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why.” You set his hands back on the couch, moving instead to unravel a bandage. “Not that I won’t help you, but have you tried any other remedies? Melatonin? Or lavender? Maybe chamomile? Any of those?”

“Mhm. Falling asleep isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?”

He opens his eyes, squinting at you from above. “None of your fuckin’ business.”

“Bakugou, I’m trying to help here.”

“I don’t want-”

“Yeah. I know. You don’t want it. Or you don’t want to rely on it. I get it. But you wouldn’t have even came here if you didn’t absolutely need it, right?” You insist, grabbing his hands into yours again. “God, you know, I’ve had toddlers who were more cooperative than you. Why’re you so difficult?”

“I’m not fuckin’ difficult.”

“No. You’re difficult. Very difficult.”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying. Do me a favor and go back to being nice.”

“Nope. Sorry. Pretty sure you didn’t like me then either.” You start wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, taking extra care to apply the right pressure. “And I was only nice to you because I was working, you know. I’m only actually nice to the people who deserve it.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes at that.

You finish wrapping the bandage, securing it into place with a bit of medical adhesive. All things considered, Bakugou looks better than before. Or at least, better than the death incarnate he’d been portraying himself as.

“All done.” You smile, turning away to start packing up your supplies.

“Finally. Took ya fuckin’ long enough.”

“God, you are literally devoid of manners, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. ‘s part of not bein’ an absolute bitch.”

You gawk, spinning around to face him. Bakugou’s relaxed into your couch, arms laid across the back leisurely as he smiles. There’s that same softness to his eyes from before, the crinkling just at the edges.

“Wow.” You scoff, smiling sarcastically. “You really think you’re so funny don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Yeah. Because you’re fuckin’ brainless.”

“Brainless? Me? Swear to god, you only know, like, three words and all of them are probably swears!”

Bakugou just shrugs, looking abnormally pleased. Content even. You figure that’s probably right for someone like him- only happy when everyone around him is devolving into chaos.

“Actually, you know what, I think I’m done yelling for the night.” You say, shucking your gloves off. You wiggle your fingers at him, a smirk plastered across your face. “I think it’s time you’re euthanized, don’t you?”

Bakugou just blinks, minutely shrinking away from you.

“Because you said you wanted me to put you to sleep, right? To put you down. Like a dog.” You continue, nearing him, coming close even as his lip curls up. Bakugou is glaring fully now, fists clenched, and you stop just a few inches out of his reach. “Or, you know, in ruder terms- not a dog, but a bitch.”

Bakugou snarls, lunging at you as you duck away. He’s fast but you’re faster, vaulting behind your couch to create some distance. There’s fire in his eyes, blazing and hot in his irises, but it isn’t scary. If you look close enough, you’re almost sure it’s just warmth. That same rare amusement from earlier.

“You leech. Swear to fuck I’ll make you regret that. Say your goddamn prayers!”

“Touch me and you’ll fall asleep!” You tease. “Or I’ll use my quirk and see into your brain. So I guess it’s more of a ‘pick your poison’ for you, really.”

“It’ll be the same for you.” Bakugou growls, hands grasping the back of the couch as he leans in towards you. “Open casket or closed, it’s still gonna be your fuckin’ funeral.”

“Really?”

“Really. Leech.”

“No thanks.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no thanks’,” Bakugou mimics your voice, his features twisting. “I’m killing you. You’re dead. You don’t get a choice.”

“No, I really think I do.”

“And just what the fuck makes you so goddamn confident?”

“This. You not attacking me.” You smile easily, voice daring as you stare right back at him. “If you really wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Isn’t that right, Dynamite?”

The name sends Bakugou recoiling, shrinking backwards and scoffing in outright shock. You watch him stumble, legs hitting your coffee table and nearly causing him to fold. He recovers quickly though, albeit with his cheeks flushing wildly.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Nah. Thanks for the offer though.” You smile brightly, before throwing your arms above your head and yawning widely. “As fun as that was, I’m pretty tired. You ready to fall asleep, yet?”

“Jesus fuck, yes. That’s the entire goddamn reason I’m even here. Idiot.”

“No name calling. You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to shit.”

“You did.” You affirm. “Now, c’mon, like last time, hold your hand out.”

With surprisingly little dramatics or resistance, Bakugou listens. He thrusts one of his bandaged hands forward as he sits on the couch again. When you touch his fingers, you feel that faint warmth again. Like fire and embers coursing through your bloodstream. It’s uncomfortable, a relentless sensation that has you cringing. You briefly wonder what it would be like to always live with it. Like Bakugou seems to.

His eyes flutter shut just like last time, and you can see the way he staggers. It’s like the fight leaves him entirely, and then he’s falling boneless into the couch. You can hardly place a pillow onto the cushions before he’s driving his head into it.

“Jesus,” You mutter in disbelief. “How long has it been since you slept? You look dead.”

“Weeks.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Since the last time?”

“Mhm.”

If his words alone didn’t confirm the severity of his sleeplessness for you, his response time did. Bakugou answered quickly, without fight, like he’d been wanting to spill for the entire night. And, you suppose, maybe he did; or was trying to. In hindsight, you begin to realize a lot of his screaming could just as easily have read as cries for help- not that you’d ever tell him that. You’d probably have to prepare a will if you ever tried telling him that.

“You want a blanket?” You ask a little unsurely, not exactly confident in your approach to this entirely different Bakugou. “All you’re getting is the couch, but I could probably scrounge up a few blankets.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond. All you hear in response are tiny little snores and slow breathing.

You find it reminds you of the last time- the way you’re reaching into a cupboard and grabbing out a blanket for him. Except this time, it’s a little bit different. Somehow you’re settling the blanket over him with a little bit of genuine kindness instead of begrudging sympathy.

After all, you can’t help but feel a little bit of pity- no one would ever fall asleep that fast unless they really needed it. Especially not in a stranger’s house.

--/--

enjoy my lovelies :))

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bakugou series #bnha fic #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha fic #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x y/n

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lulaypp · 3 years

Text

Note: While this is meant as a mini follow-up of my Three Dark Walls And A Collar, it can be read seperately.

Warnings: Panic, Flashbacks, Mentioned Nightmares, Referrenced Torture, Injuries

----

Nightmares were common for them. Far from pleasant, but definitely not a rarity.

Jason bit his lip as he panted, his chest sore as he tried to control his rapid breaths. The night light by his bed softly illuminated the room enough to stave off part of his panic as he fumbled to untangle himself from his sheets.

It had been a week after Black Mask had caught him. Dick and Alfred had deemed Jason well enough to leave the med bay but not the manor, which was fine by him. At least he got to stay in his own room without people crowding around him all day long. But as peaceful as the solitude was, it made nightmares a bit harder to wrangle down. Even so, it was nothing he wasn't used to. He had been living alone with his nightmares for years.

But it would be easier without the rain and flapping branches outside, a storm brewing quick and heavy.

His breaths and heartrate were still running fast by the time he settled under the blanket again. His healing ribs were protesting at his movements and curled up position, but he stubbornly tucked his knees to his chest. He kept his eyes on his dim nightlight, trying to ignore the non-existent smell of mud, the shadow that clung to the far walls and the solid pressure on his neck.

The rain pattered heavily onto the window and he could almost hear the sound of the drops hitting the earth and grass despite being indoors and far too high up. Nearby tree branches rapped against each other and onto the brick walls as the wind swept them back and forth. If the pitch is heightened up a notch and the sound sharpened, it could almost sound like-

Jason sucked in a breath, blinking away images of a glass wall standing far too close and pulled the sheets tighter around him. It frustrated him to no end that the effects of his short-lived captivity still lingered in his mind, randomly throwing him to little fits of panic. He understood that it was natural and normal, even for his insane family of vigilantes and ex-assassins-in-training, but it always bugged him.

He could hardly stand any sort of sharp clicking anymore. He discovered that the hard way after he was helping Dick looking over a case and he had been idly fiddling with a retractable pen. He had been putting it back together after dismantling it when there was a strong pressure on his neck and the pen’s clicks grew louder. On hindsight, he felt rather foolish for accidentally triggering himself, but at least he knew that now and avoided all computers and clicking stationaries.

In the privacy of his bedroom, he allowed himself a soft whimper, trying to will himself back to sleep yet attempting to stay away from it with equal measure. He was exhausted, but he was tired of nightmares. At the most, if he got tired in the morning, he'll get a nap once the storm blows over. Maybe Damian would be generous enough to be a pillow.

Thunder split the tapping at his window and he jumped, burrowing further into his thick blanket. His chest was throbbing horribly and the injuries littering his arms were aching. His still-kind-of-broken fingers screamed from where he was clutching at the sheets, but he didn't let up his tight grip.

His neck hadn't yet healed. It probably had suffered the worst damage, along with his throat. The collar had left burns from where the metal had charged volts straight onto his skin and his trachea had been mangled after suffering repeated strangling pressure. It wasn't as bad now, but Alfred had insisted to leave it bandage-wrapped to help the healing process. No one mentioned the fact that it also deterred Jason from accidentally clawing at the burns and scratches, be it during his nightmares, panic attacks or absentmindedly. He didn't quite appreciate having something around his neck, but he understood the benefits.

His sight was blurring slightly and he hoped that it was sleep finally coming to take him again. Until he realised that it was just his breathing running out of control. Air was shallowly entering his lungs at a quick pace, his neck turning fiery.

He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly worked himself back from near-hyperventilation. The noise outside was really starting to get into him. He doubted he could get any sleep right now. Especially not a decent one.

With his mind made up, he gathered his large, fluffy blanket more firmly around himself and shuffled out of bed. He gingerly rested his weight onto his injured ankle before slowly making his way to the door and out into the corridor, a headache slowly brewing the longer he stayed up. After a short pause at the top of the stairs to catch his breath and right his tilting vision, he carefully limped down and crossed multiple winding hallways before finally reaching the kitchen. Which was, unfortunately, occupied.

His headache was reaching a brain-pinching level and he had been too focused on not tripping over his blanket and his own feet that he didn't realise the other person, jumping when a deep voice greeted him.

"Jason? Are you supposed to be up?"

Jason blinked at the hazy figure approaching him. "Bruce? When did you get back?" As far as he was aware, Bruce was supposed to be on an outer space mission with Justice League and wasn't due back until a few days. Maybe Jason was actually asleep and dreaming.

He let Bruce push him onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. Bruce took a seat right beside him before answering, "Just over an hour ago. What are you doing up this late?"

Jason scowled, realising that he probably looked a little pathetic, childishly wrapping himself in his fluffy blanket. "'m not a kid." His throat decided now to remind him that talking was still not a wise thing to do. "'s'not like it is that late either."

"It is four in the morning and you are injured. You're not shouldn't walk around with a sprained ankle."

Just because that was true, didn't mean that Jason would agree, even if his leg did. "That was days back. Besides, it is not like you can judge how badly I'm hurt and what I can and not do just by staring at me for-"

"I read the reports, Jay. Damian told me what happened last week which is why I came back early."

"At least I'm not stupid enough to fling myself back onto the streets." Jason rolled his eyes, huffing as he leaned against the counter. He tried to ignore the blooming warmth bubbling inside him at the thought of Bruce coming back from space just because he was hurt. "I'm fine and old enough to take care of myself, old man."

Bruce's lips were pressed into an unhappy line but he let the silence reign over them. Jason had forgotten why had he thought going downstairs it was a good idea, regretting it now that his head and leg were throbbing.

Just as he was weighing the pros and cons of getting up to make himself tea, Bruce spoke up.

"Is there any reason why you decided to come down to the kitchen?"

Too tired to make up a lie or to deflect, Jason mumbled as he tried to make himself comfortable with his head on the counter top, legs tucked under himself and the blanket firmly covering him. "Couldn't sleep." The marble tile was cool against his forehead and he closed his eyes, burying his nose into his soft blanket.

He didn't see Bruce coming closer, but fingers were running lightly through his hair. While they were nice, it also meant that the man definitely noticed the supressed jump when a loud thunder cracked and rumbled. The sound made him aware of the noise again, the insistent pattering of rain drops.

The blanket around him shifted slightly before Bruce said, "C'mon. Let's get somewhere more comfortable."

Jason didn't quite feel like moving, finally finding a position comfortable enough that his ribs wouldn't protest, his back wouldn't hurt and he wouldn't fall off the small stool, so he stayed put. But the decision was made for him when he was ripped away from the counter. He blinked in surprise, taking a while to realise that Bruce was lifting him up before leaving the kitchen.

He wriggled in Bruce's arms. "Bruce, put me down. I'm an adult and heavier than you are. You don't get to carry me."

Bruce only held tighter the more Jason struggled. "Well maybe I don't get to carry you, but you get to be carried and seeing as I am the only one around..." Bruce was obviously hiding a teasing smile.

Jason huffed, resigned to the relative comfort, and closed his eyes. Just as he thought sleep might come to him, another lightning split the darkness of the hallway as thunder shook the windows they passed. He pressed his head into Bruce shoulder, heart running loud in his ears. Dirt was tacky on his tongue and bandages around his neck felt suffocating. His chest ached worse with the effort to keep his breathing even and his head was spinning. His fingers reached up to assure himself that the thing strangling him wasn't metal.

Something squeezing his shoulder startled him. It was Bruce's hand rubbing and lightly patting, the angle awkward from where it crept up from under Jason's shoulder. He felt momentarily embarrassed at the thought of Bruce noticing his spiralling panic but the feeling was gone when the thundering outside kicked up again.

"How was space?" He probably shouldn't be making small talk with his sore throat, but he really wanted something to overlap the storm.

Bruce must have caught up on that as he started talking. A lot for a man whose native languages were incoherent grunts and growls. "It wasn't really eventful. I don't really see why I was brought along since it was a negotiation mission and the Lanterns and Clark could have handled that on their own, but I assumed that they wanted me for the budget handling."

As Bruce went on about funding and budgets, Jason closed his eyes, paying little attention to the words but wholly to the voice and tone. He never thought he'd ever willingly listen to Bruce drone on about finances of all things, yet here he was feeling comforted by it.

By the time Bruce stopped, Jason was already in a half-asleep daze. He felt himself getting lowered and blinked slowly to take in his surroundings. It was darker now, but the blurry silhouette of Bruce pulled him back from any rising fear. The sound of the storm was also gone. Where were they?

His blanket was pulled away from his loosening grip and he was about to protest when it was adjusted to properly drape over him. "Where're we?" he mumbled. The surface under him didn't feel like a bed so it couldn't be his or Bruce's room. And the place lacked any windows. Not to mention that it had to be deep enough in the manor to block out the noise of thunder.

"Theatre room." Bruce was hovering somewhere in front of him, fingers running through his hair.

"Oh." That made sense. The theatre room was designed to be relatively soundproof.

His eyes were slipping close when a kiss was pressed to his forehead. Call it placebo, but he felt his headache starting to clear away from that one gesture. He let out a contented sigh, melting into the figurative warmth around him.

"Sleep, chum. I'll be right here." Bruce shifted closer, pulling off what felt like a makeshift hug while still keeping his carding fingers as he started humming a tune.

Jason heard himself mumbling something in response as he pressed into Bruce's shoulder, eyes closing and breaths evening out.

#Fanfiction #Batfam #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Red Hood #Batman #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Follow-ups/Sides #I wanted to have Jason shuffling about with a giant fluffy blanket after a nightmare #and at the same time I felt like giving 3 Dark Walls a sort of continuation just because I like it #put together and it turned into this.'#IT REALLY IS LONGER THAN I INTENDED #I'M KINDA SORRY BUT NOT SO MUCH #I honestly thought that it was just 1K at most #But it is apparently........... 2K #How?#But hey! at least it has comfort!#:D

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riotwritesthings · 4 years

Text

song and dance number not included

WinterIron, T, 1.9k, crack, this is just crack, banter, vague nonpowered AU | A03

Once upon a time @gayspacesprinkles made this post. And fun fact about me I will write basically anything Ant says ahaha ILUBRO.

I know this has already been done better don’t fight me I just wanna make everything crack

Title: song and dance number not included Collaborator Name: Riot @buckybarnesbingo Square Filled: U4, One Night Stand @starkbucksbingo Square Filled: N1, World Domination Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: Crack, banter Summary: Bucky has seen some wild things in his time as a Professional Cuddle Buddy. Nothing beats finding himself in Tony Stark’s penthouse with the sleep deprived genius himself. Word Count: 1,897

Bucky steps off the elevator, into the giant penthouse, and he is 90% sure that this is some kind of elaborate prank. Ten minutes from now someone is going to be shoving a waiver in his face and demanding to broadcast his embarrassing surprised face on national TV.

Because no way does someone like Tony Stark need to hire a cuddling agency.

He takes another couple steps, and there’s no cameras. There’s nothing, just a giant empty penthouse, and Bucky glances down at his phone to confirm that yep, he is in the right place.

He’s just about to turn and leave when a face pops up over the back of the couch.

The first thing Bucky notices is the big doe eyes, warm brown and huge like a Disney character, but so sad. The second thing he notices are the bags under the eyes, deep and dark like bruises, like they’ve been there for a while.

The fact that he’s just staring dumbly at Tony Stark is actually the fifth thing Bucky notices, after the insane lower lashes and the fluffy hair.

Luckily the man is apparently as sleep deprived as he looks, because he just blinks at Bucky for a couple seconds and by the time he speaks Bucky has mostly gotten his brain back online.

“Please tell me you’re really not a hooker,” Tony says, squinting at him, voice rough and a little whiny as he adds “I literally just want a hug.”

Bucky sputters out a laugh, rocking on his heels as he says “I solemnly swear I am not a prostitute. Though I do give great hugs.”

“Awesome,” Tony says with a happy sigh and flails his arms up over the couch, making grabby hands at him.

“Did you wanna move somewhere more comfortable?” Bucky asks, rounding the modernist monstrosity of furniture that is the couch. When Tony opens his mouth, suspicious look on his face, Bucky rolls his eyes and says “Still not a prostitute.”

Tony snaps his mouth shut again with a sheepish look, then huffs out a soft laugh.

“This is fine,” he says, sitting up fully and patting the spot between himself and the arm of the couch, “It’s just me here, I end up falling asleep out here half the time anyways.”

Which is... kind of a sad thought, actually. This penthouse seems huge, too big for one person, and based on the dark circles under Tony’s eyes he doesn’t get much sleep anywhere.

Bucky has barely dropped onto the couch before Tony is plastering himself to Bucky’s side, surprisingly strong arms looping around his waist and his face pressing into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Okay, start the clock,” Tony says, already going limp against his side.

“Hold on,” Bucky says with a laugh, twisting to the side slightly so he can lean back into the corner of the couch and get his arms around Tony in return, pulling him in a little closer and nearly fumbling his phone in the process. “Is that comfortable, um, Mr- Ow.”

“Just Tony,” Tony says, peeking up at him sourly and removing his impressively pointy finger from Bucky’s side, “unless you want to be ‘Mr Cuddle-Buddy’, that is.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Bucky says with another laugh, guiding Tony’s head back down to his chest. “I’m Bucky, though, for the record,” he adds.

“What are you, a Disney character?” Tony asks, voice muffled as he nuzzles into the curve of Bucky’s shoulder and then quickly blurts out “please play with my hair.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be asked twice, burying the fingers of his free hand in Tony’s messy curls, soft and wild like Tony has been running his own hands through it.

“Mm, perfect,” Tony sighs as he pulls his legs up onto the couch, curls himself into a neat little ball against Bucky’s side.

Bucky lifts his phone just enough to see the screen and punches the shortcut to set an alarm for three hours. “Okay, now you’re on the clock," he says, and then wedges his phone into the couch near his head where the armrest meets the back.

“You are already getting marked highly recommended,” Tony slurs out, and Bucky laughs softly. “Seriously, you are like 90% muscle how are you this soft.”

“It’s my specialty,” Bucky says dryly and Tony’s answering laugh shakes his whole body.

“Shh, I’m mentally composing my review,” Tony says, patting lazily at his chest.

“Out loud,” Bucky can’t help pointing out.

“Yes,” Tony says, lifting his hand again to wave it slightly as he talks, “Now where was I- Ah yes, guaranteed ‘not’ a prostitute-”

“-I could hear those air quotes-”

“Very warm,” Tony continues, completely ignoring his interruption except for the way his hand flails a little harder, “Possibly a Disney character."

“Pretty sure I’m not, someone woulda told me by now,” Bucky argues, grinning helplessly and pressing his fingers a little harder into Tony’s scalp.

“Oh, you definitely are,” Tony says with a happy sigh, rubbing his nose against Bucky’s chest, “The only question is, with a name like that, you’re either an adorable animal sidekick, or a villain. Possibly both.”

“What-“ Bucky objects around a sputtering laugh, “I don’t think there was actually a question there.”

Tony tilts his chin up just enough to give Bucky a sleepy glare as he says “Well, which one is it, is the question! You planning world domination?”

“Yes. My plan begins with cuddling you into submission.”

“Well it's working,” Tony says happily, and his expression really does look lighter than it had when Bucky first got here, even if he does still look exhausted. “But when is the song and dance number?”

“Later,” Bucky says with a snort, “It’s my dramatic exit.”

“Or you gotta pay extra, right? In the back room?” Tony asks with a grin and a lazy wink that’s really more of a slow, uncoordinated blink.

“Not a stripper either,” Bucky huffs with a roll of his eyes, resisting the urge to tug at Tony’s hair.

“Too bad,” Tony says with a dreamy sigh, and Bucky really does pull at Tony’s hair a little in admonishment even as he laughs.

Tony continues his rambling ‘review’ amid Bucky’s protests until his warm, teasing voice slowly tapers away, and an hour in he’s fast asleep, snoring quietly into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky is torn.

On the one hand, Tony probably wants to be awake for the time he’s paying for. On the other, he looks so tired.

Waking him up would probably be a crime, and despite Tony’s claims Bucky is not actually a Disney villain.

So he wiggles down a little more against the arm of the couch, slow and careful even though he figures that if Tony does wake up, he has two more hours to fall back asleep if that’s what he wants.

Bucky certainly wouldn’t mind, Tony is warm and pleasantly heavy against his side, draped over his chest, and he looks so much younger when his face is softened with sleep.

He looks so different in real life, so much more real than he looks on TV. So much smaller, curled up into a tiny ball on his giant couch, in his big empty penthouse.

Tony’s hair is a mess of fluffy curls, so soft as Bucky continues running his fingers through it, the muscles of his back strong under Bucky’s other palm.

When Bucky’s alarm goes off it’s startlingly loud in the quiet of the penthouse, and even though Bucky has to fumble with it a bit before he turns it off Tony doesn't do anything more than make a quiet, sleepy sound and wiggle in a little closer.

Bucky hesitates for a second, glancing down at Tony’s peaceful face, and then wedges his phone back into the couch.

He was going to make this his last appointment of the night anyways. He’ll just stay until Tony wakes up.

Bucky wakes up staring at the incredibly high ceiling of Tony Stark’s penthouse, bathed in early morning light.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky groans quietly to himself.

“Yeah, I actually get that a lot,” comes the voice from somewhere around his sternum, and when Bucky tips his chin down it’s to find Tony with his chin propped against Bucky’s chest, giving him a thoughtful look.

He looks a little less tired, bags beneath his eyes a little less pronounced, gorgeous even with crease marks on his cheek from Bucky’s shirt. Even if there is something wary in his expression.

“Hi,” Bucky says stupidly, still trying to blink away the grogginess in his brain and wincing when his neck aches sharply. That’s what he gets for accidentally spending all night with his head tipped way back against the arm of the couch.

“Hi,” Tony says back, and his big Bambi eyes dart to the side for just a second before he says “I’m not wholly unfamiliar with the one night stand, but I must admit we usually make it further than the couch. Fully dressed. What-“

“If you accuse me of bein’ a hooker again, ‘m gonna roll you right off this couch,” Bucky says before he can wake up enough to stop himself, and while he’s busy mentally cringing Tony’s eyes go wide with recognition.

“Ah fuck,” Tony groans while his cheeks flush an appealing, distracting pink, “What’s the overtime charge look like for top rated pro cuddlers?”

“Nah, don’ worry about it,” Bucky says quickly, finally untangling his fingers from Tony’s hair so he can rub over his eyes, “sorry, should’a woken you up-“

“So you’re saying you’re off the clock?” Tony interrupts, one eyebrow raised in an incredulous look, “You stayed off the clock?”

“I’m- um,” Bucky sputters awkwardly, and then realizes he has no excuse and sheepishly finishes with “Yes?”

“Even after I’m pretty sure I called you a prostitute at least three times?” Tony asks, and he still looks mildly baffled but there’s a smile growing on his face.

“It was five,” Bucky corrects, smiling back helplessly, “Once by callin’ me a lady of the evening, which, incorrect on multiple counts.”

“Right, I remember now,” Tony says slowly, and there is a devious look in his eye as he adds “We decided you’re an animated cow.”

“It was a horse, an’ I think you know it,” Bucky says with a mock-glare, gently pinching Tony’s ear and then tightening his arm around Tony’s back when he unexpectedly bursts into wild giggles.

When Tony settles down again he digs his chin into Bucky’s sternum with a happy sigh. His expression goes thoughtful, chewing on his bottom lip, and Bucky tries really hard not to get distracted.

They’re so close that Bucky can just barely feel the way Tony’s breath shakes nervously on the inhale, and then he asks “So, what are your feelings on breakfast?”

“Important,” Bucky blurts quickly, heart jumping in his chest, “Very important. Especially if I’m going to accomplish world domination today.”

“I knew it!” Tony crows victoriously, pushing himself upright and elbowing Bucky in the gut in the process. He grins happily in response to Bucky’s pained grunt and climbs to his feet, grabbing Bucky’s hand and giving it a tug. “C’mon,” he whines when Bucky moves not at all, “we need to go raid my kitchen. I want to get on your good side before you take over the world, I’m hoping it’ll get me a good spot in the dance number.”

“Yeah, I think that can be arranged,” Bucky says, grinning wide as he lets himself be pulled to his feet.

#my fic #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #Starkbucksbingo2020 #buckybarnesbingo2020 #i wrote this and now the world has to deal with it

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lochrannn · 3 years

Link

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 7/9

Leaving his apartment actually helps.

Diego’s not sure how long he’s been out but he thinks he spent at least thirty minutes at an all out run and he’s out of breath and his muscles are burning pleasingly, but he feels a lot more settled and about ready for sleep as he jogs back towards his bed.

He’s just passing a children’s playground when he spots a figure through the chain link fence sitting on one of the swings, gently swaying back and forth.

“Fuck!” he says out loud and then makes his way over.

“Oh hey!” says Lila with mild enthusiasm when she finally looks up at him as he’s just arriving right in front of her.

Diego’s heart is beating in his throat at the realization that she didn’t even notice him approaching and he could have been anybody. This may not be an incredibly dangerous neighborhood, but it is three in the morning, she’s a woman sitting all on her own in a dark and secluded playground, and he doesn’t actually need to be a detective to work out that she’s completely shitfaced.

Diego tries to reign in the anger that is usually his initial response to intense worry and fear. She’s a grown woman and she’s entitled to make her own bad decisions, and he’s overstepped on this sort of thing with her before, but when she just slowly blinks at him and then looks back down at the bottle of champagne that she’s loosely holding in the hand that’s not gripping on to the swing’s chain, barely keeping herself upright, Diego asks, in a tone that’s meant to be even but comes out pretty tetchy even to his own ears, “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, you know, I got married today… just celebrating on my own, I guess,” Lila answers, lifting her bottle a little in explanation, but not looking up at him again. She’s doing a remarkable job of not slurring her words, he’ll give her that, but they do come out a little too slowly, far too deliberate, which confirms his suspicion that she is definitely pretty drunk.

“Uh huh…” Diego responds. He’s completely uncertain of what to make of the mood she’s in. The fact that her response to getting married to him is to completely numb herself with champagne certainly gives him pause, but he swallows down the lump in his throat, now’s not the time to wallow, and instead he asks, “D’you think you might wanna do that back home instead of out here in a fucking playground?”

Lila looks up at him with an odd clarity to her for a second before she takes a swig from her mostly empty bottle and says, “Nah, I’m good!”

Diego can’t suppress the noise of frustration that escapes him. “Lila! I’m not leaving you here all on your own in the middle of the god forsaken night! You’re gonna get robbed or murdered and then they’re gonna suspect me of marrying and then killing you for your money, and I really can’t afford to go to jail right now, so come the fuck back home with me!”

“Pfff, stop being so overdramatic, Diego, I’m not going to get murdered. And I’m not going anywhere in these heels, I tell you, I’ll just sleep here on this swing!” She closes her eyes and then wobbles precariously as she presses her face against the chain holding one side of the swing up.

Diego is very rapidly losing what is left of his patience.

“Also, may I point out,” Lila mumbles in her drowsy state, “that you did in fact marry me for my money— eeeeeeh!” she squeals, as Diego lifts her up – one arm behind her shoulders, the other behind her knees. Her bottle clatters to the ground and starts spilling the remaining champagne, and somewhere at the back of his brain Diego thinks he probably shouldn’t leave it lying around on a playground, but at the same time he’s also dealing with an armful of slightly flailing, very indignant fake wife (he knows intellectually that she’s not his fake wife, but his actual wife, but Diego can’t think too hard about that, because it causes all sorts of tumultuous feelings to twist in his gut).

Though Lila immediately wrapps her arms around his neck, she’s clearly not particularly pleased because she begins to argue as Diego starts making his way out of the playground, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m taking you home,” Diego growls, trudging along the sidewalk, a little amazed at how easy Lila is to carry. She’s almost larger than life so much of the time and even when they’d slept together, she gave as good as she got, Diego has up until this moment forgotten just how tiny she is, and his heart almost stops again at how vulnerable she was, what could have happened to her if he hadn’t come across her completely by accident. Diego sucks in a breath to try and calm the sudden wash of useless fear.

“That’s quite presumptuous!” Lila retorts, and Diego doesn’t need to look at her to know there’s an annoyed line between her eyebrows. In fact, he doesn’t think he can even look at her right now, not with the way her face is currently only inches away from his.

“We’re literally fucking married, Lila!” he scoffs. He’s not sure why he says it, but Diego thinks he might be going slightly insane with the whole situation.

“And you think that entitles you to something, now?” Lila asks in genuine disbelief and Diego suddenly feels way too exhausted for this conversation. “Yeah, I think it entitles me to making sure you don’t die of hypothermia, alcohol poisoning, or murder!”

There’s a long pause and then Lila grumbles, “Whatever,” and leans against his shoulder, apparently also overcome by tiredness.

And Diego is overwhelmed at how quickly his anger at her reckless and bratty behavior dissipates and is replaced with a much sharper feeling that digs its way almost painfully into his chest, when Lila tucks her face into the crook of his neck and promptly falls asleep.

Lila is almost completely still as he carries her back home and it gives his overwrought and exhausted brain time to contemplate how unhappy she seems to be with the situation and how that makes him feel in turn, and on top of that he even manages to feel a little guilty about the fact that the feeling of her warmth and weight against him does significantly settle his nerves, despite himself.

Diego’s always known that he’s not great with feelings. He usually feels too much of them and is never quite able to tell the people around him what that means and so he’s gotten quite used to not doing so. And even though earlier he contemplated telling Lilla, he realizes he can’t add another burden to the pile of shit she’s dealing with, especially not while she’s struggling to stay in the country of her choice and has to rely on him for her only solution.

Carrying Lila becomes a little bit difficult when Diego tries to unlock the front door. He ends up jostling her, attempting to wiggle the key into the lock with the hand that’s also holding on to her knees and Lila stirs but doesn’t wake fully, just snuffles adorably and cuddles closer to him, arms tightening in some kind of reflex to stop herself from falling.

Diego tries to concentrate on anything else, getting the door open, not slamming it, when closing it, because his neighbors would probably not appreciate the noise in the early hours of the morning, and then he makes his way straight towards her room so he can put her down on her bed.

He sets her down gently and then struggles to find the will to pull her arms away from his neck so for only a moment he allows himself to sit down on the bed with her and very gently put his arms around her in a hug. He’s not sure whether it’s to comfort Lila or himself.

“See, had no trouble getting home!” Lila mumbles into his neck and Diego scoffs at that, but it’s more out of genuine amusement than derision and he gives her one last squeeze before letting go and laying her against the bed gently. This time around Lila does let go and immediately buries her face into the pillow, and though her face scrunches up and he knows it’s only a matter of minutes before she’ll start drooling onto the covers with the way her mouth is half open, he can’t help thinking that she does look absolutely breathtaking.

Diego makes sure that her short red dress hasn’t ridden up her thigh indecently high and then gets to work on her sandals. Once he’s got them off, he finds a blanket on a small armchair in the corner of the room and covers Lila with it as she’s lying on top of her sheets and is fast asleep again, so he doesn’t want to wake her.

When he leaves her to it and closes the door behind him with a soft click, hoping to at least get a couple of hours of sleep himself before he has to get up for work later in the morning again, Diego lets out a long breath. He tries to convince himself that maybe it will take a few weeks, but he can get over this, get over Lila, but a niggling voice at the back of his mind points out that he’s never felt a sense of devotion for anyone quite like this before and that he is quite certainly in much bigger trouble than he’s letting himself believe.

Lila gets the hangover she deserves after drinking a bottle and a half of champagne, but is, unfortunately, not granted the luxury of forgetting what she got up to.

She remembers her evening and her night in vivid detail but from a perspective of a powerless operator, sitting somewhere in her skull, able to look out of her eyes and watch herself make an absolute nuisance of herself, but unable at the time to do anything about it.

She remembers feeling sorry for herself because she was in this situation in the first place, a thirty year old trust fund baby with no perspective in life, no family to speak of and while other women her age nave their lives together and are getting married and having babies, she just paid her roommate who she also happens to have a pretty bad crush on – no point in trying to kid herself about that anymore – to marry her for a green card. What a fuck up she truly is.

And then, wallowing in her misery as a selfish part of her even felt angry with Diego for just abandoning her on their wedding day – what a silly notion, seeing as this is a business arrangement between the two of them – she went out to buy some dinner for herself and instead brought home two bottles of champagne “to celebrate”, started dancing around to sad music the more intoxicated she got, and in the end feeling like she had to leave the flat or she would go absolutely stir crazy.

She obviously didn’t get very far, and she has no sense of how much time she spent sitting on that swing before Diego came to get her.

Lila feels desperately embarrassed. He must be so annoyed with her and thanking his lucky stars that he’s only married to her for the money and not actually stuck with the a fuck up like her. She could tell he tried to remain civil with her last night, mostly even indulging her, but he was clearly angry and she’d only goaded him further, out of some sense of righteous annoyance of her own. But in hindsight, she can’t blame him, he’s honestly been trying his best with her, gone above and beyond to support her efforts for a visa, and she can’t even keep it together for a single day.

Well, at least he’ll get a break from her, Lila muses as she pulls her cover over her head, trying to block out the little bit of light that’s filtering in through her curtains, because there’s no way she’s going to face him in this state. But once she’s recovered, feels a bit more like a human again, she’ll apologise and make sure he understands just how grateful she is for his help. It’s not his fault she’s developed some distracting feelings for him and he certainly doesn’t deserve her anger and frustration for not reciprocating feelings he knows absolutely nothing about.

And so Lila spends her day in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, half imagining and half dreaming about strong arms holding her close to a solid, warm body, and soft lips pressing gentle kisses to the spot just behind her ear.

A day and a half later they meet in the kitchen and it’s predictably awkward.

Lila tries to apologise for her behaviour but Diego just waves it away, says he understands that she’s having a hard time, and though that’s not quite what she wanted to say and part of her thinks he deserves a real apology, she also doesn’t particularly enjoy reflecting on her own behaviour and jumps at the opportunity to move on when Diego promptly changes the subject.

“I talked to a friend at my gym, Rodriguez. His wife isn’t a citizen either and he gave me some tips for the visa process,” Diego explains.

“Oh yeah?” Lila’s interest is piqued, because she still hasn’t quite worked out what that whole interview thing entails and she’s finally getting an inkling that Diego didn’t actually know much more beyond the fact that there is an interview.

“Yeah! So, he said it’s different for everybody but that he’d talk to his wife and they’d put a list together of the questions they remembered being asked. He said some of them were…” Diego looks down at the counter and starts scraping off an imaginary bit of dirt with his finger nail, “a bit personal… So, uhm, we’re gonna have to prepare for those.”

“I think we already did...” Lila mumbles under her breath.

“What was that?” Diego asks.

“Eh, nothing!” she rushes out, she didn’t actually mean to say that out loud even if he couldn’t hear her. “So, interview, okay, what else?”

“Yeah, uh, Rodriguez said this doesn’t happen too often and it didn’t happen to them, but there is a chance of an agent coming to inspect our apartment unannounced, so I thought maybe we should move some things around. You know, bring some of your things into my room, put some clothes of mine into your closet, just make sure it doesn’t look like we live in separate rooms. We can always say we’re keeping yours for guests,” Diego explains with a shrug.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds sensible,” Lila muses and starts worrying the nail on her thumb between her teeth because despite the fact that Diego seems to have a pretty decent handle on the situation, the whole idea of the interview process is making her nervous.

“You’re not really into this, are you?” Diego asks tentatively, and when Lila looks up at him his expression is one of concern, eyebrows drawn together, he’s lowered his head to try and get closer to level with her, and for a moment the tenderness in his eyes leaves her speechless.

“Yeah, I get it!” he goes on and then smiles slightly, “Hey, what are you doing the day after tomorrow? Are you working?” he asks.

“Uh, no?” Lila answers, hesitating a bit because the sudden change of the subject has her somewhat confused.

“I thought maybe we could take a drive to the shore, bring Ben’s camera and fill the film with some honeymoon photos. It’ll be too cold to go swimming, but the forecast seems like it should be pretty mild and sunny.” Diego suggests and, it seems without thinking, he reaches out and just very gently pulls on her wrist, so she stops biting her nail and instead lets her hand drop uselessly to her side.

“Yeah, okay…” Lila answers. She’s not sure why she’s not that enthusiastic about the idea. It’s not that she thinks she wouldn’t have a great time, in fact she thinks it could be kind of wonderful, spending a day driving to the seaside with Diego and taking a walk along the beach, maybe getting some ice cream. She wonders to herself whether the pang in her belly comes from the fact that actually she’d love a beach date with Diego, only she desperately wishes it wasn’t fake.

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #ongoing fic

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floatingpetals · 5 years

Text

Thief in the Night

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: literally all fluff

Word Count:2000+

Summary: She tried to talk to him about it. It’s been an issue with Steve for as long as she could remember. But every night, it always ended the same.

A/N: There is like no plot to this lol. It’s just all fluffy goodness. I needed a little break from my series stuff and this just kinda crapped out. I hope you all enjoy! Please reblog and let me know what you think! ❤❤

Gifs not mine, credit to the creator!

Frigged cold air licked at her legs, instantly causing Y/N to curl up in a ball deep in her sleep. The sudden temperature changed made a frown to tug at her lips and her brows to crease. Her teeth started to chatter, and her body trembled as the chill set in. It didn’t take her long to wake with a start and blink groggily. In her haze, Y/N’s wondered just why the hell she was so freaking cold.

She groaned and stuck her hand out behind her, blindly reaching for the sheet and comforter she was one hundred percent certain she had wrapped around her when she fell asleep. She paused when she felt a lump behind her, a warm thoroughly wrapped up lump that was happily snoring away.

“Of course,” she grumbled.

Y/N rolled over to her back and glared at the back of her sleeping boyfriend beside her. Just because she couldn’t see his face, didn’t mean she wasn’t fully aware of the relaxed and unfazed expression on his face. Steve Grant Rogers had gone and done it again. Not like she could really get upset with him; he didn’t exactly mean to steal the sheets. But he was the reason the room was so stupid cold; Steve ran insanely hot at night for some reason and needed the air in the room to be cooler to not overheat. Y/N didn’t’ mind that. She did, however, not appreciate him stealing her comforters.

She glared for a moment longer before decided to take her comforter back. It took her a moment to find a way to wiggle under the covers, but once she did, she plastered herself to his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. Unsurprisingly, he was radiating heat like the massive furnace he was. He didn’t even flinch when she settled against him, his snores continued without missing a beat.

Well, that can’t do, Y/N thought to herself with a wicked grin. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck and she let out a breathy sigh. She couldn’t hold back her grin as she shuffled her legs further under the sheets and pressed her frigid feet against his stupidly warm calves. At the same time, she slid her equally freezing hands up under his white t-shirt and shoved them up to rest on his pecks.

His reaction was instantaneous. His eyes flew open with a hiss and his body reflexively lurched to get away. Y/N giggled and tightened her grip around his chest and slid her feet up his legs.

“Jesus Christ!” He yelped when her freezing foot climbed up his thigh. He shot a hand out to stop her from going higher, his grip tight in warning. “Why are you so damn cold?!”

“Me?” Y/N counter indignantly. “You’re the butt munch who stole the sheets! Again!”

Steve bit his lip, the frustration of being woken up fading away when he took note of his position under the several layers of blankets. It was an old habit of his, from before the serum when he lost body heat regularly. Bucky always used to say he looked like he was in a cocoon whenever he’d spend the night on Bucky’s old couch. He didn’t realize how inconvenient it was until he started dating Y/N a year ago and they had the same outcome every night they spent together. Sighing, he unclenched and started unwrapping the blankets to drape over her behind him.

“’M sorry,” He murmured. Y/N snorted and snuggled closer against him. If she couldn’t get her own space, then fine. She’d cling like a koala and he’d lose his.

“I know you are.” She sighed and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. A purr rumbled in his chest, the soft-touch causing his eye to flutter close. One of his hands reached under his shirt to cover hers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the back of her hand. “Still doesn’t mean we’re gonna overlook your problem.”

Steve smirked and shook his head. He had a feeling this wasn’t gonna end that easily. She had already given him an earful about it a few nights ago before bed. He wasn’t intentionally ignoring her. It was a work in progress.

“I know.” He murmured. “I don’t mean to…”

Y/N hummed and let her head fall on the pillow. She let out a heavy sigh and tried to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Once she was up, it took a long while for her to fall back asleep, unlike the thief in the night who could fall asleep on a dime. She hated that but also loved knowing it was because of her presence that Steve to felt safe enough to fall asleep so quickly. He had a lot of weight on his shoulders, so any help she could give, Y/N was happy for it.

However, for her, her brain just wouldn’t stop thinking. It was a constant buzz in the back of her head that no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get it to shut up. Ever. Case in point, right now it kept asking the question what the hell made him still yank covers despite his temperature running higher than it used to be.

“Steve,” Y/N whispered. Steve answered with a teeny groan. Y/N pouted and tried again with a shimmy of her hips. “Steve.”

He didn’t respond and when he started to snore, Y/N knew he was back asleep. The giant jerk. Well, that just wouldn’t do. She was up because of him and he wasn’t getting away with it that easily. Gently tugging her hand from his grip, she reached down and dug her knuckled into his side between his rib cages. It wouldn’t hurt him, but it was a sure-fire way to wake him up. Steve snorted and jerked, his eyes flying open wide.

“Whas happened?” He slurred and blearily rubbed his eyes.

“I can’t sleep.” She stated simply. Steve grumbled and rolled over to face her in her arms. Unsurprisingly, he had an exhausted look on his face. It was clear how hard he was struggling to keep his heavy eyelids open.

“Aw, m’ sorry baby.” He cooed and raised a hand to rest on her cheek. Y/N watched amused as his eyelids drooped shut in seconds on relaxing into her bed. His hand fell with a soft smack on her cheek and Y/N couldn’t stop the laughter tumbling from her mouth. Steve jerked awake once again.

“Y/N,” He whined. Y/N giggled at his pout which only made her laugh harder. He grumbled under his breath and forced her face into the crook of his neck.

“Steve!” She snickered but didn’t fight his embrace. He shushed her halfheartedly and started to run his hand down the back of her head. Well, more like drug his heavy fingers down her head in a sleepy attempt to quiet her.

“Go to sleep,” He mumbled. Y/N scoffed.

“If only it was that easy.”

“It is. Just close your eyes and shhh….”

“But that’s not-,”

“Shh sh sh,” Steve interjected, his speech falling off as he slowly succumbed to sleep. Again.

Now her brain wouldn’t stop jumping from how she was going to wake him up again to what the hell she was going to wear tomorrow, to what she was going to have for lunch. Groaning softly under her breath, Y/N knew this was fruitless and started to wiggle out of Steve’s grip. Steve inhaled sharply, and sluggishly stirred as she shimmed off the bed.

“Where you goin’?” He called sleepily. Y/N stood at the end of the bed and looked over to Steve. He was utterly adorable, with the pile of blankets wrapped up around him and just his face peeking out of the mass as he squinted in the darkness to see her.

“I’m going to make some tea and maybe take some Benadryl so I can fall back asleep since someone was so kind and woke me up.”

Steve frowned and rolled over, mentally debating on whether he should get up to follow after her. The bed was colder without her, the safety blanket he had gone with her. Exhaling dramatically, Steve shoved the blankets off and grabbed one of the thick blankets on top to wrap around himself. Shuffling down the hall, Steve stopped at the entrance of the kitchen and watched Y/N start the electric kettle.

She was humming softly to herself, grabbing a bag of tea from the box in the pantry completely oblivious to the looming man behind her. Y/N turned around to go to where the mugs were and nearly flew out of her skin.

“Jesus!” Her squeaked and her hand flew to her chest. “What the hell?”

“You left me alone.” He pouted. Y/N sighed and rubbed her temple.

“I went-. I told-,” Taking in a deep breath, Y/N shook her head deciding it was best just to let it go. “Never mind. You’re lucky your cute.”

A soft smile grew on Steve’s face and a warm fuzzy feeling settle in his stomach. In the back of his mind, he knew she was poking fun at him, but he was going to take the compliment at face value. It was too early to be sarcastic back. He scuffled across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Y/N waist. A sweet thought, but in his sleepy state, Steve wasn’t aware of how his body weight sagged down on her.

“O-okay,” Y/N staggered under his bulk. She braced her hands against the counter and spread her legs out keep from collapsing. “Steve, you can’t- I’m not equipped to carry you, baby.”

“Mhm.” Steve’s voice was muffled against her neck, but he didn’t move from his spot. He was comfy where he was.

“So… This is just our life now I guess?” Y/N teased. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to with his weight on her back and he only seemed to grow heavier the deeper he slipped into unconsciousness. The kettle went off, the shrill beeping pulling a pitiful groan from Steve in her ear. “Baby just go back to bed. You’re barely standing as it is. I’ll be there in a few minutes, I promise.”

He mumbled incoherently under his breath but gave in. He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, nearly missing the mark before he stumbled back to their share bedroom. Y/N giggled and made up her tea before she headed back to the room.

Steve had flicked on a lamp on Y/N’s side of the bed. She paused when she saw he spread the blankets out, putting a few extra on her spot, before crawling up underneath them. He was out like a light, his arm slung on her side of the bed snoring softly against the pile of pillows. Y/N melted at the sight, her lips turning up in a loving smile.

Y/N set her mug on the bedside table and slowly lifted his arm to shimmy underneath. His eyes fluttered open briefly and gave her a lopsided grin. Y/N smiled back and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

“Go to sleep,” Y/N whispered gently. Steve hummed and gently squeezed her hip. She had just sat up when she heard his snores once again. That punk, she thought jealously. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her mug and settled in to be awake until her brain finally let her sleep. By the time she was able to drift to sleep, the tea was long gone, and her day was planned out down to the second. It was a good thing it was Friday and they didn’t have anything incredibly important to do the next day.

She flicked off the lamp and nestled in beside Steve with a happy sigh. Unconsciously, he pulled her close and nuzzled his face into her neck. A content sigh fell from his lips and he held her tight. She fell asleep with a happy smile against her blanket stealing boyfriend.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #captain america imagine #steve rogers fluff #captain america fluff #fluff #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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sugarbutterbroadway · 4 years

Text

King Of Manhattan

A/n Since newsies has been living rent free in my head and keeping me up at all hours of the night take the Sprace fic.

He knew this day was coming, it was inevitable. He knew one of these days Jack wouldn’t be there to lead, he knew he got far too comfy in his position as Jack’s second, he knew and he knew and he knew. But it still came to him as a shock when Jack pulled him from his gambling and asked if they could take a walk. So here they were, walking, and talking. Well, Jack was talking. Race’s mind was going a mile a minute. My time is up kid, the boys is yours now, make me proud. The sentence was simple enough,straight to the point, it was very Jack. But that didn’t stop his stomach from sinking. These boys is mine now, it was playing in his brain on a loop.

“J-Jack I can’t-”He stammered, his heart thumped against his chest.

“Yes you can”Jack said, “You’s my second for a reason Race, these boys need you”

These boys need me. He felt his heart thumping in his ears, how was his heart in his ears?

“Race”Jack said, or did he even say that? It felt like he was underwater. “Race!”

He tried to speak, but that posed a new issue. He couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe? Without a second glance he turned and took off. He could hear Jack calling him and maybe he ran too but all Race could focus on was getting the hell out of there. His brain switched off and the only thoughts going were Jack's words.

My time is up kid

The boys is yours now

Make me proud

These boys need you

He was a coward, god he was a coward. He could never show his face in Manhattan again without getting soaked but he just can’t. He knew and he knew and he knew but he didn’t know he was so short on time. He didn’t know the first thing about being a leader, that was all Jack and Davey. He barely knew how to be a second, he just knew that he had a good right hook and was the only one besides Davey who was allowed to get mouthy without getting popped. He knew how to flirt and to sell his papes and to gamble, but what about the little ones? He didn’t have a responsible bone in his body! What if someone got sick on his watch? What if one of his boys got soaked? Good god what if one of them died? No he couldn’t, not again, he’d take a swim with weighted shoes before that happened--He was cut short by his face meeting a brick wall and a weight against his back.

“Oh Spot’s gonna ‘ave a lota fun with this one”

Spot? He was in Brooklyn?

“Should we soak ‘im?”

“Nah, let's wait for what boss’ gotta say”

“But I wanna soak ‘im!”

“Keep it togetha shorty, you know how boss feels ‘bout soakin’ random people

“But I-”

“It’s bout past your bedtime anyways, you wan’ me to tell ‘im bout that too?” Race could almost feel the shift in their tone. Reminded him of when he got into his ma’s bag of sugar as a kid, oh this little brat was in for a scolding. He heard a huff from shorty—if that was even their name—and a chuckle from the older person. Shame flooded him, it was getting late. He should be with his littles tucking them into bed, not runnin like a coward. He was spun around quickly and met with wide eyes. He had half a mind to brace himself for a soakin but all they did was stare.

“You’s Spot’s boy, yeah?”They said. His face flushed and he nodded hesitantly. Sure they were closer than your average pals but being labeled as Spot’s boy made his stomach flip. The boy laughed and dusted off Race’s chest, still a little hard because the blonde had to bite back a wince.

“You see”He said facing towards the little girl, “This is why we don’ soak random people. Boy Spot woulda had my rear for sure” he turned back to Race and tipped off his hat, his hair was black but a white tuft stuck out towards the front. “The names Blanco, this is shorty.”

“A pleasure”Race said carefully. “It was great to meet you’s but I should be-”

“Nah you’s not goin nowhere”Blanco said, “Spot would really kick my as-rear if he heard you was in Brooklyn and didn’t stop by. It’s late anyways, you was lucky bumpin into us but not all of us take too kindly to Manhattan boys, Spots or not”

Blanco had a point. If he was going to be the new leader that meant he got to do what he wanted, right? One night out without being on Jack’s radar wouldn’t kill him, it was exciting even. He nodded and gestured for them to lead the way. Blanco smirked and put his cap back on, Shorty’s hand in his.

“Glad we agree”

The walk to their lodging was long, he mustn't have been that far across the bridge. Or maybe his legs were ready to give out because he was exhausted. His heart had finally stopped beating so hard and all he wanted to do was sleep for a few days. Blanco must’ve noticed because he walked slower.

“I’d carry you but littles come first”He shrugged. Shorty had tapped out a while ago and was fast asleep on Blanco’s back. Race nodded and bit back a smile, they were kinda cute.

“She yer sister?”He asked. Blanco let out a loud laugh and shook his head.

“By blood? Nah. this girls’ blonder than them theatre gals with the powdery wigs. By principle? Yeah, all these littles ones is my brothers and sisters. Not sure how you’s all do it in Manhattan but we’s family here in Brooklyn”He said. Race wanted to snap back that they were family in Manhattan, just...not like this. Sure they covered each others asses and made sure everyone who needed to eat did but this...this was different.

“We’s family in Manhattan”He said quietly, “You just look like you’s love her or somethin”

Blanco gave him a strange look, “I do love her, don’t you’s love each other in Manhattan?”

Race cringed and focused his gaze on the ground, he wasn’t sure if he really loved anyone. He loved his Ma when she was here, and his Pa and his sister, but that had been a long time ago. You didn’t do things out of love, you did them because they were right. It would be terrible to leave them poor boys starvin or cold. He didn’t realize the boy was waiting for an answer until he cleared his throat.

“I dunno”He said in the same tone. It was silent for a bit as they walked, but he couldn’t help himself. “How do you know you’s love someone?”

“Well”Blanco said, sparing a glance at Shorty. “You’s love someone when you’d do anything for them,when you want to make sure they’s safe and they’s eatin. But there’s different kinds of love too, I don’t love my beau the same way I’s love Shorty”

Race nodded slowly, he could understand that. Blanco continued. “I’d do anything for both of them, in a heartbeat. But my Beau and I hold hands and go see the races, Shorty and I play tag in the park and I’s make sure she does her take home work. It’s different but similar, ya know?”

He nodded again, things needed to change in Manhattan. He wanted what Brooklyn had, his boys deserved it. Sure they were friends but they can be closer than that, they could be family. When he got home he’d tell Jack everything about it. He tried to stifle a yawn but failed miserably.

“We’s almost there kid”Blanco said, it made Race feel warm when he said it.

“How old’re you Blanco?”he slurred.

“ ‘m almost nineteen kid”He said. Race’s eyes popped out of his skull.

“Lies!”He exclaimed, “Ain’t no one sellin past eighteen, Jack said so!”

“If ya look young, no one can tell”He said with a wink. “Ain’t no one rat me out yet, ima keep sellin until I can afford me a place”

“That’s insanity”Race said in awe.

“It works”He shrugged, “You looks like you fourteen, and i’m hoping you’re not cause then Spot and I would need to have a long talk-”

“Alright keep yer pants on, i’m sixteen!”He snapped. “I don’ look that young”

“Lookin young ain’t bad, it sells”He said.

“Why’re you telling me this?”Race asked.

“Why would I hide it?”He said. He wanted to answer but as the lodging house came into view all his mind could think of was Love. Spot. Bed. and he was off like a rocket. He heard Blanco laugh but he didn’t care as he rapped his knuckles on the door. He continued doing so until it was thrown open. His chest pounded as the smaller boy looked up at him with murder in his eyes.

“Surprise?”He said weakly.

“You’s gotta lot of explainin to do Racetrack”Spot said, his voice was gravely and his eyes were still partially shut. “And you better not be here alone, or i’m soakin-”

“We’s home”Blanco said, possibly saving Race from the worst scolding of his life.

“You had ‘im?”Spot asked.

“Found ‘im at the bridge, Shorty almost soaked ‘im ‘til we realized he was your boy”

Spot grunted and kicked the back of Blanco’s leg as he walked inside, “He’s not my boy. Go put Shorty to bed and get in one yerself before you’s sleepin on the roof tonight”

“Aye aye boss”He said. He sent a wink Race’s way and carried the sleeping girl up the stairs.

“Spot-”

“What the hell ‘re you doin in Brooklyn?”Spot demanded, “It’s almost midnight. If i wake up to Jack’s ugly mug busting down my door ima-”

“Jacks stepping down”He said quickly, he balled his fists up to keep them from shaking. “A-and I’s his second so that means…”

“I see”Spot said, his voice deceivingly calm. “So he told you and you ran.”

“Yeah”He breathed, Spot always made things easier to say.

“That was a bad move Higgins”Spot said clicking his teeth, “you know how he gets when one of his boys is missing”

“I...I..”He felt that familiar tightness in his throat but this time his eyes burned in tandem. His knees buckled underneath him and soon he was looking up at Spot through blurry eyes. He felt horrible.

“Race…”Spot sighed.

“He’s gonna soak me good when i get back”He sniffled, “He’s gonna soak me a-and realize what a shitty second I am and how much of a coward I am and that I can’t even take care of myself and how am i gonna keep these boys alive!-”

“Racetrack”Spot snapped. Race looked up at him and felt like crying harder.

“And now i’m just here cryin like a loser”He said. Spot pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Get up”Spot said.

“But-”

“Race get up or i’m carryin you. You want me to carry you?”Spot asked. It was supposed to be a threat but Race couldn’t help but nod, he was so tired.

“You’s gonna be the death of me”Spot mumbled. With a surprising amount of ease he was hoisted over Spot’s shoulders and carried up the stairs. They passed the two dorm rooms and Race made a noise of confusion.

“You’ll see”Spot hummed. They went up a shorter flight of stairs and stopped before a room Race had never seen before. Spot twisted the knob and walked inside locking it. It even had a lock, fancy. Race felt his back hit a springy bed and the world was suddenly upside down as his legs folded towards his chest.

“Did you just throw me?”He chuckled.

“Yes I did”Spot said matter of factly. “Now tell me who I’s gotta soak”

“What?”He asked, tilting his head. Spot let out a sigh of annoyance.

“Who’s been callin you all that shit”Spot said impatiently, “let me know so I can soak ‘em”

“No one!”he said quickly, “but Spotty, no one’s gotta say it for it to be true”

“Racetrack Higgins you are so fucking dense”Spot snapped. He muttered an apology but Race was still tense. Spot only spoke all proper like when he was pissed.

“I mean you’s probably right, but ‘m not followin”He said slowly. Spot took a seat on the bed and ran a hand over his face.

“It’s just-you-ah!”Spot exclaimed, but he was laughing.

“Makin me nervous Spotty”he said, eying him weirdly.

“You are not a shitty second”Spot said instead. “Jack ain’t gonna soak you and do you realize how good you are to those boys?”

“Um...no”He said carefully. Spot rolled his eyes and shifted his legs so he was facing Race.

“You’s worried about taking over when Kelly leaves, right?”Spot said. He nodded.

“You got nothing to worry about, Race”Spot said. “Them boys adore you. You’s gonna lead ‘em just fine”

“No”He said shaking his head, “You don’ get it”

“Then make me get it.”Spot said, a fire blazed beneath his sleepy eyes. “We got all night”

“You need to sleep”He said instead, “You look dead”

“I’ll sleep when I get it”Spot said. “You may be the king of poker but I’m the king of arguing”

“And Brooklyn”He said half heartedly.

“And Brooklyn”Spot said with a little grin. “But come on Race, we ain’t never kept secrets”

“Yeah, about what dames we was kissin”He scoffed. Spot raised a brow and gently grabbed his hand.

“You kissin other dames?”

“You callin yourself a dame?”

“If the shoe fits”Spot shrugged, “Answer the question”

“No I ain’t kissin other dames!”He exclaimed, he was lucky Spot couldn’t see his cheeks redden in the darkness.

“Good”Spot said, and there he went again with that unreadable face. It was going to send Race into an early grave.

“Good?”He echoed.

“Good”Spot said, “But seriously Race, let me know what’s going on”

“Spot-”

“Race.”He said and squeezed his hand.

“Fine”He said. “It’s just…’m not Jack, ya know? I can’t make them boys listen or rile them up like he can, I can’t give ‘em words of wisdom like Davey...It feels like I'm not good for nothin. Like all I do is waste my days away gamblin or sellin or hidin here, feels like all I can do is make ‘em laugh and then once they’s done they forget about me. I ain’t important”

“You’re right”Spot said after a few beats, “You ain’t Jack or Davey” Race felt his heart shatter. “But that don’t mean you ain’t just as good. Jack ain’t always rational, he riles them boys up without a plan, and sometimes Davey talks too much an scares ‘em. They may be good at what they do but it don’t mean they ain’t got faults just like the rest of us.”

“I mean sure”He said, “But what’s that got to do with me? I’m useless”

“Don’t say that”Spot said immediately.

“Wh-”

“Antonio for the love of god promise me you will never say that about yourself again”

“I-I promise—Spot what the hell!”his chin was tilted down roughly so him and Spot were eye to eye.

“You are not useless”Spot spat. “If you could see yourself the way I see you you’d have an ego the size of New York! Racer you are one of the best things to happen to those boys, you’re gonna make Manhattan better! You’re way too kind for your own good and you’re smart as hell so never ever say you’re useless”

“I don know what to say Spotty”he said quietly.

“I know you’s scared Race”Spot continued. “And being scared is a good thing, if you’s scared to fuck things up then there’s a good chance you won’t. It means you care enough about your boys and you want the best for them, I know you’s gonna do good by them.”

“I don wanna do it alone”He said finally.

“You won’t have to”Spot said, “You already know if you ask Albert to be your second he’d say yes in a heartbeat”

“I know”He said, “Just...just forget I said anything, goodnight”He rolled over on the twin sized bed and faced the wall. His head felt clearer but his heart still felt heavy.

“You got Brooklyn in your corner too,”Spot said suddenly. “We ain’t abandoning you just cause the strike is done”

“Your kids don’t even like Manhattan, give it a rest”He scoffed.

“My kids answer to me”Spot said, “And what I say goes. You got Brooklyn, end of discussion”

And there was that famous Racetrack temper rearing its head. “W-well maybe I don’t want all of Brooklyn!”

“We’s one of the biggest boroughs, of course you do!”

“Well maybe I just want you!”He exclaimed. He clamped a hand over his mouth. Maybe he should’ve just gotten soaked and sent home earlier. He waited for Spot to say something, anything. But he was just met with silence.

“Spot I’m sor-”

“No”Spot said shaking his head.

“I should’ve said anything-”

“No Racer”Spot said firmly, “Just...just gimme a second, you know I ain’t good with words”

“Okay”he said quietly.

“I um...oh my god”Spot said with a slight chuckle, “You snuck up on me Racetrack”

“ ‘m not following again, am I getting soaked or not?”He said. Spot waved him off. “I ain’t gonna hit you Race”

“Okay great”He sighed, “Then what the hell does that mean?”

“You just..I never planned on no one like you.”Spot said, shaking his head, “I had my whole future planned out, marry a dame, work in a factory, have a few kids. Girls are nice I guess, but they ain’t you”

“Do...do you love me?”He said innocently.

“Hell Race, I don’t know!”Spot exclaimed, “maybe?”

“When Blanco called me your boy you denied it”He said, “I don’t get it Spot”

“I didn’t know if that’s what you wanted”Spot said honestly. “I ain’t gonna force you to be with me”

“I want to”He said, “I wanna be your boy”

“Yeah?”Spot said in a shaky tone.

“Yeah”He said, pulling Spot so his back hit the bed, “We can do what Blanco and his Beau does. We can hold hands and see the races...and kiss and stuff”

“We already kiss and stuff,”Spot said, raising a brow.

“Yeah but now that you’re mine it’ll be better”He said, “I thought I knew what love was before I met you...now it’s...it’s so different”

“Do you love me Racetrack?”Spot said, shifting so his head was against Race’s chest.

“I think I do”He said softly, “Blanco said you’d do anything for the people you love and Spotty I’d...I just...you make me wanna be better, for myself and for our boys”

“You make me wanna stop bein so damn angry all the time”Spot said, “Seein you just makes me wanna slow down for a bit, take my time”

“I wanna kiss you”He said, running a finger through Spots hair. “Wanna make you feel how much I love you”

“We got plenty of time for that, we gotta get some sleep”

They sat in silence, Race combing through Spots hair as the sound of the city went on below. He was almost sure the smaller boy had fallen asleep before he felt a tap at his chest.

“Race?”

“Mm spotty?”

“I ain’t good with feelings either, but i’m fuckin gone for you.”

“I love you too, Spots. Honest”

—————————

Spot woke before the circulation bell started to ring. The sun had barely made its way into the sky, but he had to get Race back to Manhattan. He just wanted to sit there and take in the sight before him. The boy-his boys, blonde curls were all awry and his lips were parted as he slept soundly. They had a late night, he had half a mind to just let Race sleep it off, but the thought of Jack showing up here kicked his ass into motion. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Race’s forehead, and another one to his cheeks.

“Sweetheart”He whispered, he blushed as the words left his mouth. He never thought of himself as the sappy type, it was weird. He peppered a few more kisses across the boys face before he started to stir. One blue eye peeked open and then another, Race was smiling before he knew what hit him.

“Good morning my angel”He whispered, combing his fingers through Race’s hair. “You ready to be king of Manhattan?”

“ ‘m your angel?”Race said in a sleepy voice.

“Yeah”he said with a grin, “Yeah you are”

“You’re a sap”

“Shut up”He said flicking Race’s skull “get up, we gotta get you back to Manhattan”

“No”Race whined and clung to Spots undershirt, “wanna stay here with you, just got you to myself…”

Spot's chest felt a little funny when he said that and he tried his best to shake it off, “Sweetheart, Jacks gonna worry…”

“Don care”Race mumbled, “Wanna spend today with you, love you…”

He bit back a squeak and quickly rubbed at his eyes. Maybe it was because he was fully awake but fuck did he love the way that sounded coming out of Race’s mouth.

“Oh you’re dangerous”He said under his breath.

“Come lay down”Race said, “We can cuddle-”

“Race”He warned. “And kiss-”

“Race, please-”he begged.

“I’ll even do that thing you like when I-”

“Alright alright”he said quickly. “Don’t gotta be evil about it”

“I win”Race said happily and wrapped his body around Spots once again. He let out a content sigh when Spots hand found his hair and scratched at his scalp.

“You’re a housecat”He said.

“I thought I was your angel”Race said with a yawn.

“That too”He said, “Get some more sleep, today’s about you and me”

Race nodded and Spot soon found out he slept like the dead. If he couldn’t feel him breathing he’d assumed Race had straight up died. He continued stroking the blonde’s curls and found himself unable to do anything but stare.

“No I never planned on no one like you”He sighed, “But you’re gonna be the death of me Antonio”

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consumedkings-archive · 4 years

Text

ancient names, part x

ancient names, pt. x

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt x: how large the teeth

Masterlink Post

Word Count: ~7.2k (yes I am a clown)

Rating: M for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop.

Warnings: Gore/violence, forced used of psychotropic drugs to induce hallucinations, spooky scaries (hi October!), implications of sexual assault though nothing specific, and uhhhhhhh liberal use of a shotgun. And you know, the usual things that come with Far Cry 5. Also, proofreader? I hardly know her.

Notes: So this chapter took quite a while to get around (thank you, writer's block), but it's here! And a spooky update, just in time for October, too! Yes, Elliot is hallucinating basically this entire chapter. What's real?? What isn't??? The world may never know.

I pulled a lot of inspiration from a LOT of medias/myths, so if you think you know what it is I would LOVE to hear from you and see if any of it comes through in my writing the way I want it to!

Special thanks to my lovely @starcrier, who has been a true homie throughout my wrestling with this chapter, and all of the lovelies here on tumblr and on AO3 who have sent in their feedback, chatted with me, and just all in all provided me with the support and inspiration I really needed to get this chapter done! I probably sound like a broken record by now, but the fact that I have managed to write this many chapters at all after finishing my first chaptered fic in a VERY long time just a few months ago is insane to me and certainly would not have happened without y'all.

Okay, sappy notes over. Enjoy! Thank y'all so much again!

She is twenty-four, and she cries under the tent of blankets that Joey has made for them.

It feels like she is seventeen, again, in a little fort that they make, but there are key differences: they are in Elliot’s apartment in the city, and Joey’s face is somber, and in the dark Elliot can feel the guttural, gut-wrenching grief sounds shaking her down to her skeleton.

Blanket tents were never for crying in, before. They were never a place to say, between gasping breaths, that she didn’t know why she let a man that she trusted touch her even when she didn’t want him to. How can she? If someone has never experienced the paralyzing fear of being completely out of control, of being helpless, how could it ever make sense?

Elliot knows that it doesn’t. She knows that Joey doesn’t understand completely, not really, and that it hurts her feelings that Elliot flinches when she moves too quickly, and that it stings to say the name of the man she had been dating—that his name tastes sour, like a venom, on her tongue now—and that when Joey tells her that she needs to tell someone what he did, it draws a noise of agony out of her not unlike the way an animal trapped sounds.

She does not sleep that night, or the next night, or the next, and finally when she is tired enough to be worn down she goes to a therapist. She has to, Joey says, or she will never get a job working with the law in Hope County, and Elliot knows she’s right so she does.

There are a lot of things that the therapist says. Trauma hits her the hardest. It blinks, a neon sign above her head, assigned to her so that all will know: that she is Trauma, that she has it, that it sits in her bones and makes a home out of her. Is that all I will ever be? She wonders. Trauma? Is that all that I have, now?

Each day is a series of motions, one after the other: waking up, getting up, standing and walking and breathing and existing, all the time. Each of those motions exhausts her. She files a restraining order; she goes to therapy; she takes the sleep medication but that is all she wants to take because otherwise she will feel too much unlike herself. She finishes her training with a clean bill of health from the doctor and her therapist and she packs her apartment, which hurts worse than maybe anything else, because each book and blanket and trinket packed away is a constant reminder of the person who had been there, who had stolen her safety from her in the very place that she was supposed to always feel safe.

But Hope County is waiting for her, and that is what she will take comfort in: that there is always a place for her, there.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was the worst-case scenario. In any other universe, in any other life, she would not have let herself be convinced to approach an enemy unarmed. Not even John’s flippant confidence that she could make a weapon out of anything instilled in her the idea that things would be alright, in the end.

That had been the only thought that could keep her going. Once I get Joey and get the hell out of Dodge, everything will be okay, her brain would say. Get Joey, get out. That’s all there is to it.

But that wasn’t all there was to it, anymore, and she knew that; she knew it while her heart hammered in her chest, while her skin itched and burned where the redhead had touched her like he was dripping in acid, while the blood rushed through her head in a violent tidal wave that made her feel like she was going to puke. They had stuffed a wet cloth into her mouth and hauled her away, out of sight of the Seeds, and now she sat—alone, tied, the cloth spit out onto the floor of the cabin they had left her in.

She was somehow both unaware of how much time was actually passing and fully confident that it had only been a half an hour; if she moved her head too fast (which was to say, at all) the world wobbled and swam around her. Elliot finally relented to burying her face into her knees and closing her eyes to try and stop the swimming nausea.

The door clicked open. She saw Ase, first, and behind her loomed the redhead. The woman was taller up close than Elliot would have thought—probably bridging five foot ten—which made the redhead much taller than she had thought, too.

I could kill her, she thought furiously, through the strange haze that had fallen over her. If I got my hands on her, I could.

“Hello, mor,” Ase said. Elliot saw the warmth blooming in her voice, like an aura welling up out of her, red and searing; the realization that they had certainly dipped the cloth in something that would ultimately be worse than just dying-by-chemical-ingestion hit her hard, sending her heart fluttering in a panic. It was the same brand of panic she had felt when John had found her in the field; wildly out of her control, as if she were being puppeted by something else, something larger than her.

The redhead closed the door behind them, and Ase closed what little distance that remained between the two of them, crouching in front of her. Elliot tried her best to muddle through the panic and muster up some hostility, but it was hard, when it felt like the floor was both sturdy and melting underneath her.

“Fuck you,” Elliot managed out, her mouth feeling like it was full of cotton balls. It didn’t seem as though her words had any effect on the blonde, and for a second she panicked, wondering if she had even said anything at all in the first place or if it had just been in her imagination.

“You left Kian with a few nasty bites, didn’t you?” Ase asked, her voice welling with amusement. “I did not want to stuff a tea-soaked washcloth into your mouth, but we couldn’t have you drawing any more blood.”

Elliot’s gaze slid to the redhead—Kian, she thought venomously—and the movement of her eyeballs felt like they were hitching unsteadily in her skull. So they had drugged her, again. What the fuck was it with cults and drugging people?

The woman reached for her, and instinctively, Elliot flinched. The gesture came a few seconds too late; the drug in her system, whatever it was they had soaked the cloth in, was already starting to wear her down.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Elliot said, as Ase untied the rope around her feet and then her hands, “if you want me to stop biting people.”

“I am not worried,” Ase replied sweetly. “You’re already looking more docile by the minute, mor.”

Elliot swallowed thickly; to do so took concentrated effort. “That isn’t my name.”

“It isn’t a name at all,” the blonde agreed unhelpfully, tossing the ropes to the side and coming to a stand. She smoothed her hands across the dark fabric of her dress, and then extended a long, elegant hand. “Now, do you want to see your friend?”

She felt her heart stutter painfully in her chest at the woman’s words. After having been tricked and toyed with by John, it was strange to think she was finally in the home stretch that she had been trying to reach these last few days; that finally, finally, all of her toil and trouble was bringing her back to Joey.

Briefly, the idea that she could take Joey and run--leave the Seeds to their own devices--fluttered through her brain. Leave the Seeds to clean up this mess on their own. Hopefully, the Resistance had already bolted out of Hope County and were well on their way elsewhere. If she grabbed Joey and got out--if she could get in touch with law enforcement outside of Hope County--

Elliot stared at the Swede's hand and tried to gather her thoughts up in one place. It felt too much like they had become marbles, spilling out of her hands every time she tried to focus. She took a breath and then forced herself to a stand, blatantly ignoring Ase's outstretched hand. Just the act of using her legs to stand felt a little like being on stilts; the world lurched and ground to a watery stop around her, and only confirmed, infuriatingly, what Ase had said--that she was in no shape to bolt, or fight for that matter.

"Come along, then," Ase said pleasantly, taking a few steps away from her. Those few steps made it look as though the ground stretched out for miles between them, and her stomach twisted. The blonde looked at her over her shoulder and smiled.

"Kian, help our friend," she murmured. The redhead stepped forward and reached for her, ever obedient to his master, and Elliot immediately gritted her teeth and took an unsteady step backward.

"Kian, don’t," she bit out, mimicking Ase’s honeyed tone as much as she could. And then, less sweet: "If you touch me again, you'll walk away with a lot more than a bite mark, fuckhead."

Kian flashed a smile that felt like a snake against her skin and gestured for her to go on ahead. "Go on, then."

Just being in his proximity again made her skin crawl; it felt still like his hand was around her throat, the heat of his breath against the shell of her ear. Even in the dizzying haze that had settled over her, she felt her heart leap uneasily into her throat at the memory.

Before she realized what was happening, Elliot's feet had carried her out around Kian and out of the cabin, trailing the beacon that Ase had become, a strange green aura undulating around her. I hate this, she thought, watching the way the trees around her shifted and bled into the night sky.

"How—how long was I in there?" She asked, falling into an uneasy pace next to Ase.

"A few hours," she replied, looking over at her. "Felt shorter?"

Yes, Elliot thought, but the word didn't come to her mouth. The ground slid under her feet; the world around her pulsed in time with her breaths, stretching and cinching in equal parts until she found herself standing in front of another of the cabins. In the distance, the sound of the lake water lapping at the shore echoed over and over in her head.

Ase pushed the door to the cabin open, and inside sat Joey Hudson.

She looked tired, days of exhaustion sitting heavy on her face, a dark shadow of sleeplessness and makeup both ringing her eyes. Joey had always been pretty, and now was no exception; the brunette, though her clothes were dirty and her eyes fluttered with tiredness, was just as lovely as she always was. The sight of her had Elliot’s head and heart swimming with emotion, rising up thick and high in her throat until she thought she might come unglued right there, in front of a psychotic woman.

But with the feeling of being on a seesaw unseating her nonstop, and the desperate, aching reminder of the person she had been missing all along, Elliot didn’t think almost anything about Ase. As far as she was concerned, in that moment, the woman ceased to exist; the same choking feeling that she’d felt when Jerome had said, you can tell me if it’s not okay. A relinquishing. A lifting of her burden. You don’t have to Atlas this thing alone.

“Joey,” Elliot said, the woman’s name coming out of her mouth hoarse and heavy. Joey’s eyes fluttered tiredly and she mustered up the closest thing to a smile.

“Hey, El,” Joey replied. As Elliot crossed the space between them and immediately crouched to kneel in front of her, the smile warmed into something more genuine. In an effort of lightness, the brunette said, “You should have called, I would have cleaned up.”

Elliot felt the soft, wrecked little sound, so close to a sob, more than she heard it; it was a choked almost-laugh, her hands fluttering absently as though unsure of where to land. “I tried,” she managed out, as thinking and speaking became harder, her jaw stiff and unyielding. “I tried, Joey—”

Joey nodded and said, “I know.”

“I will leave you,” Ase said lightly from the door, “but, Elliot? You only have a short time before you become fully open to the influence. I would drink some water.”

The blonde turned, leaving and closing the door behind her, leaving just the two of them there. By then, even while the world swam around her, and she thought she could see little sparks of orange light flying off of Joey, she threw her arms around the brunette and hugged her tightly. It took a minute for her to realize that she was crying--happy, relieved tears, the kind that came suddenly and without warning.

“I was so worried about you,” Elliot murmured between sniffles, pulling back and immediately searching for restraints. There were none. Unlike John Seed’s version of Joey’s captivity, no duct tape covered her mouth, nothing bound her hands together; she was just sitting in there—probably knowing well enough that running would have been a worse idea. “I thought John had you, and then he got me, and then he said he’d pawned you off to Faith, and—”

“Slow down,” Joey laughed, the sound not quite reaching deep enough in the cavity of her chest to be a real one. “You have crazy eyes, El.”

“They gave me something,” she explained, pressing the heel of her palm against her eye. “They did it once before, but it was stronger then.”

Joey handed her the bottle of water she had been nursing, uncapping it for her. “They gave it to me too, once,” she replied. “But not again. Maybe I didn’t give them the response they were looking for. Elliot, these people are--there’s something really wrong here. They keep talking about this thing in the woods, asking if I’ve seen it...”

Elliot took a big swallow of the water, shifting on her knees and then taking another. She felt absolutely parched—the water tasted a little funny, but she wasn’t sure if she trusted her own sense of taste right in that moment anyway. “We have to get out,” she said. Whatever the cult believed in or practiced didn’t matter; what mattered was getting the fuck away from them.

She was certain she could hear Ase’s voice just outside. She lowered her voice, trying her hardest to make sure she was whispering, “We were hoping to—I mean, I was hoping to—the plan went wrong, Joey, I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But we can still get out.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Joey asked. “Sheriff Whitehorse, and Burke, and…”

Her voice trailed off absently, and Elliot could feel the brunette’s eyes on her. She hesitated, taking Joey’s hands in her own before she replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then who is ‘we’? Jerome and the others?”

“No, Jo, it’s--”

The door clicked open behind them, echoing once, twice, three times in Elliot’s head before she turned to see Ase looming in the doorway. Long, dark, the sharp angle of her jawline and the high slope of her cheeks making her look more severe, more beautiful than before.

“It is time for you to see,” she said, her voice light. “You will have time with your friend later.”

“What about Faith?” Elliot asked, struggling to her feet. “I want to see that Faith is okay too. That you haven’t—”

“After,” Ase replied, her voice startlingly ironclad.

“Joey comes with me.” She tried again, tried to force her voice to firmness, to assertion. But Ase only smiled, tranquil now despite the hardness of her voice. She crossed the small space between them, looming in Elliot’s vision--eclipsing all other light, taking away all sense of anything else outside of her.

“She stays,” Ase replied, not unkindly. “This is only for you to see.”

She crossed the distance of the cabin between them and reached for Elliot, taking her hand. The contact made Elliot’s skin buzz. She was so tired--so tired of this stretching and pulling of herself, so tired of the way their drugs made everything somehow more than what she could handle and forced her to handle it anyway.

“Joey—”

Elliot turned back to look at the brunette, reaching for her as Ase pulled her along; Joey had pulled herself to a stand and was trying to follow after them, saying something like, it’s okay, I don’t mind coming, really, more practiced at polite coercion than Elliot was. Before Joey could reach the door after them, Elliot saw the broad, tall form of Kian blocking out the doorway, saying something to Joey in Swedish.

“Hey! Leave her alone, you fuck—”

Ase pulled on her hand, hard, yanking her until she was stumbling after her sleek figure. Out in the night, where the air was chilly with an early-Autumn coldness and Elliot could see her breath floating out of her mouth, she almost felt at peace for a second. Everything was still. Incredibly still, the way the surface of a pond was before a stone landed.

One step at a time, she walked her to the edge of the campground. They broke the treeline, hand-in-hand, until they could see Sacred Skies Lake stretched out below them. Elliot craned her neck to try and see the cabin where they were keeping Joey, but the trees blocked most of her vision of the campground.

“Look, there,” Ase said, interrupting her thoughts. She gestured down at the far treeline. When Elliot turned to look, she saw nothing; only darkness in the still woods. Too still, she thought now—still in the way the forest was when a predator had arrived and all the prey had fled.

The lake rippled below them, and then smoothed out, dark and clear as glass. She tried desperately to see--really see, not just what the drugs were making her see, as though she could brute force her way through the barrage of sensations overwhelming her.

And then: “Hey!”

It was a woman’s voice, thrown from somewhere down by the lake. Elliot felt apprehension crawling across her skin. She didn’t know why it was making her nervous, but she strained to listen for it again all the same.

The voice said again, “Hey, Elli!” and she felt her stomach drop. It was her mother’s voice, the sweet Georgia drawl that her mother had always sported, calling to her from the woods. Calling for her.

“Mama?” Elliot managed out, her voice thick and hoarse and bubbling before it even left her mouth. She felt Ase’s eyes on her, inquisitive, but all she could think about was I have to get her out of here, what is she doing here? Why isn’t she with the others?, so louder this time, she went, “Mama, I’m here!”

She took a step forward. It was Ase’s hand that stopped her, a gentle shake of her head. Elliot looked back at the woman for some kind of answer, but her expression was empty of anything that might have been helpful; on it was only the serene, delicate smile of a woman enthralled.

There was a stretch of silence. Something dark shifted in the trees. Something big, rippling leaves and branches as it moved.

And then: “Mama?”

It was her voice.

It called, again, “Mama, I’m here?”, and the pitch and timbre felt the same as her own voice, like she’d shouted into an echoed canyon, but it was wrong. It was all wrong. It sounded like something trying her out, feeling out the way she sounded. Practicing.

The air bubbled around her with some kind of emotion. It popped, pulled tight, stretching over her vision like saran wrap, until it hurt to keep her eyes open, until she thought desperately that all she wanted to do was close her eyes—but she couldn’t. She had to stay awake, stay clear, stay conscious. For herself, for Joey and Boomer and for—

(Whether you like it or not, you and I are on the same side.)

It called, from deep in the treeline beyond the lake, again. “I’m here!” The voice pitched and pulled between words, like whatever it was kept trying to get the exact cadence of her words—trying her out, tasting. Sliding beneath her skin.

“What the fuck is that?” Elliot whispered. Ase smiled serenely at her, and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Look harder,” Ase murmured. “You will see It.”

She took a step forward, her heart thundering in her chest, trying to see beyond the utter stillness of the forest. Nothing moved; nothing breathed in time with her, anymore; where the drumbeat of the world had once felt it was intrinsically tied to her, she was now cut off from it, in a cold, dead space somewhere beyond.

Something in the trees shifted again, and rumbled.

“It has been waiting for you,” Ase murmured, coming up behind Elliot. Her voice was silky, warm, spinning a web around and around her until it made her feel—

Safe.

“What has?” Elliot managed out, swallowing thickly.

“We call it the Father,” she said. “It talks to us, when we are open to it. In voices we recognize, in the voices of our loved ones, so that it does not scare us.”

Her hands were on Elliot’s shoulders, gently squeezing, and she thought she was going to throw up. The trees in the distance warped and bent, swallowed up by something big and dark and humming, the vibration of it melting around her thrumming beneath her skin.

“It tells us, Elliot, that the end of the world is here. Your own Eden’s Gate knows it, do they not?” Ase’s voice was more urgent now; Elliot didn’t have time to think about how she said your own Eden’s Gate before she was plunging on. “They know it. The only difference between us and them is that we serve It, that we help to usher it in. Just as we once took, so do we give back to It—life, cyclic and infinite. You know it. You understood the words, in the flowers, didn’t you?”

My heart aches for you.

Be gentle with me.

I come soon.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she said, the words coming out slick with panic, spilling out of her before she could stop them. Her shoulders scrunched up to her jaw to try and brush Ase’s hands off of her. “You’re insane. You—crazy bitch—”

They were John’s words, not her own, but it was all she could muster up; the woman’s face remained light and serene, turning Elliot to look at her now.

“It waits for you,” she insisted, her voice wobbling around Elliot like the reverb of a bass drum. “I told you that you would always come back to us. I knew when I saw your color.” Her gaze swept over Elliot, almost affectionate. “White, in perfect balance.”

“Stop touching me,” Elliot managed out, pushing Ase’s hands weakly off of her. The strange thrumming persisted under her skin, a violent cacophony as she tried to block out the sound of her own voice beckoning her from the woods. Hey! Mama, I’m here! It said, begging her to follow, begging her to investigate.

Breathing became harder. It felt like she was gulping in lungfuls of water, eeking out whatever oxygen she could, but no matter where she looked to try and get Ase out of her mind she only saw dark trees; bending and curling and pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

“Mor,” Ase said, taking Elliot’s face in her hands like a lover would, “Mother, that’s what you are. For us, to us, while we serve It.”

“Fuck you,” she spit out, but her voice cracked instead, the fear welling up inside of her like a tidal wave. “I’ll—”

Ase shook her head. “I told you, it is a cycle,” she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Wherever you go, wherever you run, It will wait for you. It waits for us all, Elliot, and it will have you. As It gives, so too, does it take.”

She opened her mouth to respond when the loud crack of a gunshot echoed just a few feet away. Ase’s head snapped around viciously, her hand still gripping Elliot’s face with a firm, unforgiving hold; even in the dark, even with the drug wreaking havoc on her system, Elliot recognized the filthy backwater whooping of Peggies.

The flash of headlights through the trees suddenly brought everything back to life, the sound roaring in through Elliot’s head like someone had flicked the mute button back off again.

She turned to look back at the lake. Whatever had been lurking there was gone, now. The sound of feet hitting the dirt, shouted words in a foreign language, and the sweeping realization that they might yet still get out of here sent her heart hammering.

Ase pulled on her, hard, until she was stumbling after her. She craned her neck to try and see if she recognized anyone, to see if she could see one familiar face, but where the gunshots were echoing was already far enough that she could only see the brief flicker of headlights.

The door to the cabin opened. Warm light flooded her vision, splintering behind her eyelids as Ase pushed her inside and said, with a sudden and violent amount of poison, “Stay.”

Everything felt like she was swimming in molasses; each movement harder than the last, each breath taking more and more of her concentration. The door slammed shut. In the time it had taken Elliot to will her venom into existence, Ase had released her hand and swept out of the cabin, leaving her alone with Joey. Through the curtains, she could see dark shapes shifting and melting, one into another, and she took in a stuttering breath.

“Are you okay?” Joey asked immediately, reaching for her. “What did she say? When they did it to me, she kept asking if I could see—but it was just trees, out there, to me. El, look at me.”

“We have to get out,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, cracking with panic. “We have to get the fuck out of here, Joey. These people are—so much worse than Eden’s Gate—”

Voices catapulted in volume outside, tires squealing and doors slamming. All of it felt too loud, even with a wall between herself and the violence—like someone had cracked the volume up to one-hundred and then pulled the knob off.

“What the fuck? Are those Peggies?” Joey whispered, glancing out the window. “I do not want to be in the crossfire of two fucking cults. Elliot, when are the others coming? Where are they?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. As the sounds of cacophony increased outside, reminding her that she had made something like a deal with the devil, she took in a deep breath. She didn’t have time to think about the woods, or whatever it was she thought she’d seen in there, or the way that Ase had gripped her face and said, It waits for you.

“Right,” she said, trying to push those thoughts somewhere far down and out of sight. “So, listen, Joey, about the others, they’re—gone.”

Joey stared at her. “Gone?” she repeated. Horror started to creep into her tone. “Like—dead—?”

“No, I mean—they’re gone. Or they should be,” she added quickly, heading towards the window to look out, “I told them to evacuate Hope County when I ran into these crazies the first time.”

“Okay,” the brunette began, slowly, “so… before, when you said we and—that you had a plan…”

“Right,” Elliot replied, her head swimming a little. “Yeah, a plan. Remember when I said that John got me—”

Joey shook her head, not because she didn’t remember but because she already saw where this was going. “Elliot—”

“—and then he told me that he pawned you off to Faith, and—well, Joey,” Elliot managed, “there wasn’t any way I was going to lose one iota of a chance of getting you back.”

“Fuck,” Joey groaned, pressing her hands to her eyes. “Fuck, Elliot, please tell me you didn’t—”

“Well, look, Joey—”

Something rattled the door. It struck Elliot with a note of panic that they had been locked in, and she didn’t know if in that moment she felt worse to know that they had closed them in or if it was a comfort, considering the chaos that was probably ensuing outside.

Worse, something in her head said. It always feels worse, to be trapped.

Someone banged on the door three times, and then through it came a blissfully familiar voice: “Elliot? Are you in there?”

Elliot felt a wave of relief wash over her. She never thought she would see the day where hearing John Seed’s voice would bring her relief, let alone comfort: but it did.

She hurried to the door, rattling the doorknob for good measure. “Yes,” she replied quickly, the words coming out a bit hoarse, so she tried again, louder this time: “Yeah, John, I’m in here. Can you break the window?”

“I’ll do you one better. Get back from the door.”

She did as he said, reaching for Joey just mere seconds before she heard a concussive splintering of wood and metal from the other side of the door, which swung open shortly thereafter. She was not wrong to think that the outside was chaos; she could hear it more clearly now, but almost none of it mattered, because John Seed was standing there with a shotgun in his arms.

“You could have just broken the window open,” Elliot managed out, around the complicated mess of feelings welling up inside of her and her tongue feeling two sizes too big in her mouth. “Idiot.”

“That’s a lot of attitude you’re giving your rescuer,” John replied, cocking the shotgun with an affirmative click, click, the plastic shell clattering onto the front porch of the cabin. “What are you standing around for? Let’s get moving, hellcat.”

“I’m not going with him,” Joey bit out venomously. “That psycho kidnapped me and held me hostage!”

“Oh, Hudson, that was so long ago,” John drawled, glancing over his shoulder at the erupting chaos behind him. “Keep up with the times, won’t you? Elliot and I are partners, now.”

It shouldn’t have felt dirty, hearing John Seed say that to Joey—because they were partners, because he didn’t have to come for her if he had Faith already and he did anyway—but it did. It felt traitorous.

“You fuckhead!” Joey snapped. “If any of our friends are dead, it’s your fault!”

“Okay!” Elliot announced, her voice high and panicked. It felt weird to be the middleman, the one demanding that everyone be calm. “Okay, let’s just—everyone shut the fuck up, okay? I am hours into a fucking drug trip and there is no time to debate the moral ethics of teaming up with a cult leader to escape another cult leader!”

Joey’s jaw clenched as she stared at John, her eyes narrowing, Elliot’s hand still firmly gripped in hers. She looked at Elliot for a moment, and then—

“Fine,” she ground out.

“Great,” John replied.

“Awesome,” Elliot said, taking in a deep breath. “Joey, is there any medicine in the cabinet? We should grab it.” She paused, looking at John for a moment, her gaze sweeping over him. He was unmarked. Unscarred. Splattered with blood, but it didn’t bother her—rather, assured her. “Did you—did you get Faith?”

He watched Joey let go of her hand and cross the room to gather up what few things she had—the half-drank water bottle, some pills from the cabinet in the bathroom that may or may not have expired, Elliot thought—and then he said, “First thing. She’s waiting for us down by the lake.”

“Good,” Elliot murmured, nodding and swallowing thickly. For a second, a strange silence stretched between them, and then John took a few steps into the cabin and he reached for her.

“They didn’t hurt you?” he asked, his voice dropping in volume, his fingers brushing her jaw and tilting her face to get a look at her neck where Kian’s fingers had dug into her skin.

She felt her lashes flutter, the feeling of his fingers skimming the still-tender spots sending strange vibrations rattling through her skull. Her skin didn’t crawl the same way it had when Kian had grabbed her, but heat did bloom in her face, and she felt it crawling all the way down her neck. His gaze darted over her face, lingering on her mouth for a heartbeat in their close proximity.

“Stupid,” she muttered, brushing his hand off. “Of course they didn’t. You should be checking on Ase’s little boy-pet.”

John grinned, the expression drenched in something close to pride. “I should have known.”

“Let’s go.” It was Joey’s voice that interrupted, slicing right through the moment, dousing out the flames Elliot felt in her chest. The brunette grabbed her hand and pulled her through the doorway, out into the cold, black night—a night swelling and vibrating with sound now, no longer ruptured by a stillness that sat like condensation in her lungs but noise, bubbling and sparking in the air like electricity.

Joey stopped, ducking and pulling Elliot back behind the next door cabin when the sound of gunfire pierced through the night. John slipped just ahead of them and said, “Hey, maybe let the guy with the gun go first?”

“Maybe the guy with the gun should be covering our asses instead,” Joey retorted. She pushed the water bottle into Elliot’s free hand and nudged her ahead. “C’mon, get a move on, Elli.”

John glanced back at her, and his expression said, Elli, huh? That’s cute. Elliot glared at him, but there was a lightness in her when she did—it didn’t matter, that infuriating way he cocked his grin at her, like he was equal parts pleased with himself and proud of her ferocity. It didn’t matter, because she could see the hilltop where Ase had shown her the lake, and once they got down they were home free, and John Seed could feel however he wanted to about her.

She had Joey. She would be free to go, and leave the Seeds behind her.

Shouting clipped through the air in the distance, and John glanced back behind them, exhaling through his mouth. No doubt the members of Eden’s Gate that were creating this diversion (and that’s what it was, a diversion) were getting mowed down, obliterated by the organized, methodical killing that the Family was capable of.

Elliot glanced back. Through the gaps in the trees, she could see bodies dropping and crumpling against the ground, pulled and yanked out of trucks that had been driven right up against the clearing. Lambs to the slaughter, she thought hazily, her fingers slipping out of Joey’s hand. What am I, then?

Wherever you go, wherever you run, It will wait for you.

Someone screamed. She saw the light of it, pinching off of them in sharp, rapid bursts of yellow, swimming through the air until disappearing into the night sky above her where the boughs of the trees stretched impossibly far. Each massacre, each bloody slaughter ending life after life, the residue filtering through the air in ghostly wisps of color.

As It gives, so too, does it take.

“El,” John said, taking a step down the hill, “we have to go.”

“Joey?” she asked. “She--”

“On her way down the hill, already.” He reached for her, hand outstretched, ignoring that she seemed to keep losing time. “Let’s go.”

Elliot paused at the top of the hill; her gaze darted, without much thought, to the treeline—it’s nothing, she thought to herself, I just want to check.

Something lurched in the treeline. Big, breaking and snapping trees, and Elliot felt a breath slip out of her, violently departing her lungs.

“John,” she began, uneasily, “I don’t think I can—”

“You’re fine, El, just keep—”

Joey called something from down below them; irritation flickered across John’s expression, and he turned away from her to take another step down the hill and call back, “Yeah, we’re—just sit tight down there, Hudson…”

Elliot took an unsteady step backward, and just as she did, she felt someone grab her arm.

“Not you,” Ase hissed at her, yanking her hard until she stumbled back from the hillside. There was a frantic, wild energy about her now, infernal, bubbling up out of the calm, polished veneer. “Not you, mor, not this time. You get to stay and see what you’ve done.”

Elliot felt cold earth and pine needles beneath palms, prickling through her jeans as she hit the ground. Her stomach lurched; she thought she was going to throw up, but when she turned around to see Ase stalking towards her, a different kind of nausea welled up in her. For the first time in a long time, Elliot felt real, cold fear in her, searing through her like a venom.

She wanted to call for John, or Joey, or anyone—but her jaw felt like it was wrenched tight, and violent sparks of light were rushing off of Ase right in front of her eyes.

“You’re insane,” she managed out unsteadily, the heat in her voice whipped away by the panic inside of her.

“I told you,” Ase said, taking two steps closer to her, “no matter where you go, you will always—”

Something loud and concussive echoed. Elliot heard flesh and sinew tear until the pressure of something greater; the arterial spray of it peppered her vision, splattering across her face until the world looked like it was doused in red film.

Ase’s expression went slack as she sank to her knees in front of Elliot, and in the dark of the night, Elliot could see the blood splatter of the gaping wound in Ase’s stomach just before she slumped forward. She wasn’t dead, yet—as John took a step forward, cocking the shotgun again, Elliot thought about the way Ase’s stomach had been spilling out of her.

“John?” she asked, feeling very small and very far away. A part of her brain was vaguely aware of the sounds of the firefight echoing in the night, of voices shouting closer to her, but she couldn’t think about any of that. All she could think about is the way John was looking at her, the shotgun propped up and ready to fire again, though he didn’t. Not yet.

Something brushed her hand. Elliot looked back and saw Ase’s glassy eyes, her fingers brushing Elliot’s, reaching for her. Blood dripped out of her mouth, and the green light that Elliot had thought she’d seen around her now was beginning to dim. Her lips parted, her gaze flickering absently over her face.

“Do you see?”

Ase interlaced their fingers. The earth below her stretched out, pulling her, sweeping like a neverending conveyor belt that only managed to make her sicker.

Another concussive blast muted out the world. She heard nothing but the ringing in her ears as the back of Ase’s head caved in, their eyes locked and their fingers interlaced, like friends. Like sisters.

“No,” Elliot said, the sound coming out of her like some kind of agonized noise, “no no no—”

Something firm and warm gripped her shoulders. A hand reached up, pushing against her jaw until she was forced to turn her eyes away from Ase’s mouth moving silently.

It was John. Eclipsing her vision, filling it up until there nothing else. John, pulling her to her feet, wiping the blood from her face and saying something—something that she couldn’t hear, her head vibrating with the residue of the shotgun blast that had covered her in gore—pulling her to the hillside, pulling her down.

The world swam and melted around her as John pulled her down the hill, one hand gripping hers and the other steadying her as she stumbled and swayed. She tried to look elsewhere, anywhere that wasn’t John, John who had looked like maybe he was hesitating and then had blown Ase’s head to pieces, but she couldn’t.

At the bottom of the hill, Joey immediately grabbed her away from John. “El? Elli? Are you okay?”

She didn’t know what to say. The feeling of Ase’s fingers reaching for her, interlacing with hers, stuck to her ribs. Elliot thought about the curve of the back of Ase’s head, concave from the shotgun shell, the carmine spray of the woman’s wound coating her face.

“If you want to stand around down here and chit chat, that’s fine.” It was Jacob’s voice. When had Jacob gotten there? Why was he there? She watched him grab Faith’s hand and pull the girl along, heading further down to the lake. “We’re leaving.”

“When—” Elliot began, still dazed, feeling like the world was becoming a watercolor painting around her. “When did Jacob—”

“Drink some water,” Joey said, holding the water bottle out to her, “and we’ll talk about it later, but right now we need to move, Elli.”

She nodded numbly, clutching Joey’s hand as she started to walk, John’s radiating warmth on the other side of her. Elliot glanced at him through the corner of his eyes for any indication that he felt, at all, any emotion about what he’d just done—but he only looked quietly troubled, his fingers brushing hers as they walked.

He’d said to her, grinning slick, yours must surely be the sin of wrath. But she didn’t feel so very wrathful now, Ase’s blood on her face and the world falling apart around her. She watched him, glancing around through the trees, checking the chaos behind them, the slaughterhouse he had led his lambs to.

Not this one. John’s voice, hissing in her ear, as she gasped around lungfuls of water. This one’s not clean.

John’s hands on either side of her face, gripping, grounding her to the earth when she felt like she was going to float away, when it felt like the earth was slipping out from beneath her feet. John, not grimacing or flinching when her nails dug into his arm to keep her present, to keep her anchored.

Which one are you? she thought, staring at him until her eyes burned, until he looked over at her inquisitively. Which John are you?

John, glowing with pride at Joseph’s praise. John, irritably telling her to smoke a cigarette because he knew from one casual conversation that it would relax her. John, his fingers brushing the skin just below her collarbone, saying maybe we’ll tattoo it here, just over your heart. John, calling her a killer.

By the pricking of my thumbs.

#far cry 5 #john seed #john seed x deputy #john seed/ofc #far cry fic #my writing #john seed/original female character #am i clown? yes #does that stop me from posting as much as i would like? also yes

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 4 years

Text

Missed Moments with You

Rating: M

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 14353

Summary: Almost six months after Baz drunkenly stumbled back into Simon's life, they're still together and happy. Well, mostly. It'd be great if they had more time together, but work keeps getting in the way. Can their relationship survive their real lives?

Read on AO3

Sequel to “Back to Haunt Me”

AN: HAHAHAHAHA I DID IT BITCHES!!!! I FINALLY FINISHED A FIC AFTER MONTHS OF ILLNESS AND WRITER'S BLOCK!!!! Seriously, I could not do ANYTHING for so long. But I was finally able to do this! Big thanks to @carryonmylovelies for all her help and encouragement. She is the best.

Sadly, I couldn't get this to fit into any of my requests. I will try to get to those, I promise. My brain is just not functioning at full capacity and really hasn't for awhile. Hope you enjoy this one tho :)

Disclaimer: I am not a teacher or a psychiatrist. Most of my knowledge comes from being a student and a therapy/psychiatry patient, plus a little research online. This is not meant to be a super duper accurate representation of either. Dramatic License was taken.

———————————————

Simon

Even though it’s soft, I still hear the door close. It’s not like I have super ears. I’ve just been sleeping lightly, trying to stay up until Baz comes back. I hear him quietly take off his ugly shoes, walk towards the room, and open the door. I stay still as he flops down next to me and gets under the blanket. He lazily throws an arm over my side, long nose pressed against my neck. I love when he does this, wraps himself around me. Baz makes me feel so happy.

“Hey,” I say, barely a whisper. “How was the hospital?”

Baz’s groan reverberates down my skin. “Nearly punched a patient’s father in the face.”

“Sounds like the usual.”

“Mhm. Just another day and night at University College Hospital.” He tosses his leg over mine. Sometimes I swear he wants to bloody climb me. “You should be asleep, Snow, it’s late.”

“You’re up.”

“Because I’m a medical resident and my hours are completely insane. You’re allowed the luxury of a mostly normal sleep schedule, take advantage of it.”

I grab his hand over my stomach, weaving our fingers together. “I like waiting for you.”

“Mm.” He nuzzles closer and holds me tighter, then presses a soft kiss behind my ear. I’m in heaven. “Sap.”

“Always.” I kiss the back of his hand. “We should both sleep now, love.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Night, love.”

I close my eyes, finally sinking into sleep as my wonderful, exhausted boyfriend holds me tight.

———————————————

I’m woken up by my alarm blaring shitty hair metal at top volume. Baz lets out a loud groan into my shoulder.

“Why do you play that rubbish?” he growls. “Why not some nice classical?”

“Because this rubbish wakes me up.” I reluctantly extract myself from Baz’s lovely arms. I hear him roll onto his stomach and spread out in a starfish on my bed. He loves cuddling with me, but he also likes to stretch out his long limbs. I grab my glasses, returning my ability to see properly, then turn around to look at him, and my mouth drops open.

“Baz!” I shout. “You climbed into my bed in your fucking scrubs again!?”

Baz lifts his head slightly and pulls at his light blue scrubs, eyebrows pulled together. “Hm, looks like I did.”

“They’re filthy!”

“No.” He flops back down, face smushed into my pillow. “I washed them yesterday. There’s just a bit of dried blood on my trouser leg. No sick or spinal fluid this time.”

I shake my head, but it’s with a smile. “I can’t believe my neat freak former roommate has developed such low standards of cleanliness.”

Baz makes an annoyed grunting sound before sinking further into my bed. I chuckle and press a kiss to his hairline. He’s already asleep again.

I grab my bathrobe and go into the kitchen, a smile on my face. It’s been five months since Basilton Pitch drunkenly wandered his way back into my life. I never imagined we would see each other again, let alone start dating. But it’s been pretty great. Baz is so much more than I thought he was. I already knew he was brilliant, but he’s also hilarious and kind and utterly amazing. I’m happier with him, and I think Baz is happier with me too.

The only problem is exactly what Baz warned me about when we started dating; he’s insanely busy. The hospital has him on a weird, inconsistent schedule. He’ll sometimes work for over twelve hours then collapse for an entire day afterwards. If that wasn’t hard enough, when this started, I didn’t factor in my own job. Very dumb, considering what I do. When I’m not teaching, I’m usually grading or writing lesson plans, so it’s not like I have a lot of free time either. We once went two and a half weeks without seeing each other. It was awful, but both of us understood. Still missed him though. I miss him a lot. In nearly six months, we’ve been on three proper dates. It’s not that I like fancy dinners and shit, I just like being with Baz. I wish we could be together more.

I stop to give Cherry her morning pet and wet food. She purrs under my hand. Then I make myself instant coffee, the ambrosia of primary teachers, and toaster waffles. I leave some for Baz to heat up later. He has pretty refined tastes, but no one can resist toaster waffles. He’ll probably be up to eat them around noon, when we’ll Skype chat while I have lunch at school. It’s my favourite part of the day. I want it to happen more often.

The phone ringing breaks me out of my lovesick melancholy. Penny’s grinning face stares back at me. I quickly pick it up. “Hey, Pen.”

“Hey Si,” she says, voice crackling slightly. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going alright. Just making myself some shit coffee and toaster waffles.”

“I’m a bit horrified your breakfast habits haven’t changed since uni.”

I scoff very self righteously. “Neither have yours. Last time I visited, you were stuffing your face with pop tarts.”

“You have no proof of that.” I can feel Penny’s glare from across the bloody Atlantic.

“No,” I chuckle. “I guess I don’t. Oh, I did almost get video proof of Baz wolfing down two Big Macs. He finished just after I got my phone out, it was amazing.”

“Ha! Get a video of it when it happens next time, then show me that and I’ll owe you a pint.”

“I’ll try next time we go out.” I slump a little in my chair. “If we go out...”

Penny sighs in a particular way. It’s the one she uses when she knows I’m down and wants to bring me back up. “Baz still working those long shifts, huh?”

“Yeah, so he’s tired a lot. And our schedules have trouble syncing up. It really sucks and it’s not like either of us have a choice in it, especially him. But still it...it’s like- I just-”

“Part of you doesn’t give a shit about work, you just want to be together more.”

I sink further on the chair, so much so I fear I’m going to melt into the vinyl. “Kinda, yeah. Does that...does that make me a bad boyfriend and person?”

“No, no, absolutely not, Simon. It makes you a normal person who desires their partner.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, but Baz warned me about his job. He told me that he would have insane hours and it would make having a relationship really hard. I told him it was okay, that we would make it work, so I can’t get mad now, right?”

“You’re allowed to be upset that you don’t get to see your boyfriend as much as you wish you could.”

“I guess, yeah.” I shove half a toaster waffle in my mouth. It marginally helps. “I don’t know what to do, Pen. I can’t ask Baz to cut his hours, it’ll mess up his degree and piss off the doctors cause they’ll say he’s ‘not being dedicated’, which is a load of bollocks but it’ll happen. And it’s not like I can change when I work. There doesn’t seem to be a solution.”

Penny sighs. “I don’t know what to tell you, Si. There’s no easy way to deal with this. I think you just have to talk things out.” I groan heavily. “Yeah, I know, you hate talking. But can you think of anything else?”

“No,” I grumble. “Save for just shagging him senseless so we can both let off some nervous stress.”

“Sex doesn’t fix everything.”

“Well, no, but it would be nice to try it period.”

“You two still haven’t slept together?!” she says far too loudly. I hope Micah isn’t home. God, that would be embarrassing. “It’s been months!”

“I know,” I groan, “but we’ve both been busy and tired, especially Baz. Mostly we’ve just been snogging, which is awesome. Baz is a great kisser.”

“Too much information, Si.”

“Sorry, sorry. I like kissing, I’d just like to do...other stuff too.”

“Which is perfectly understandable, and the only way it’s going to ever happen is if you figure out where to go in your relationship. And that’s only going to happen by talking about it and working something out that both of you can live with.”

I eat another toaster waffle. Again, helps a little, not enough. “That’s hard.”

“And necessary if you want to keep this relationship.” There’s a short pause and I try to speak before Penny interrupts me. “You definitely do want to keep it, right?”

My leg jerks so hard I nearly knock my coffee over. “Of course I do! Baz is kind and amazing and funny and brilliant and I fucking lo-”

We both go silent. I put a hand over my mouth. Holy shit, I can’t believe I almost said that. I haven’t even thought about it before, until now. (Typical, I don’t figure it out until I’m right in the middle of shit.) I mean, I’ve thought about it in a sort of abstract, future way. But not right now, not after only five months together when we spent seven years apart and an equal amount of time hating each other. Could I really be in love already?

“Shit, really?” Penny whispers. “You love him?”

I bite my nails, something I haven’t done since second year of uni. “Uh, I guess, maybe. I don’t know. It’s way too soon and I’m not exactly that experienced in love. I don’t think I can say for sure of anything...”

“Okay. What can you say for sure then?”

“Well,” I stop chewing on my nails, “I know I care about Baz. I enjoy being around him. And I really, really, really like him.”

“Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I can deal with that.”

“Good, stick with that, don’t jump too far. Figure out where you two stand before you start talking about love.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

I scoff and roll my eyes, similar to Baz. I’m picking a lot up from him, “I know, I know.” My eyes catch the clock. “Oh shit, I’ve got to go right now. If I’m late my kids are going to destroy the classroom.”

Penny snorts. “The trials of a parent of thirty two children.”

“Exactly. Talk to you later, Pen, love you.”

“Love you too, Si, bye!”

The phone clicks off, leaving me hopelessly alone with my thoughts. So, I want to be around Baz more. That’s reasonable, he’s my boyfriend. But neither of us can be around more because of our beloved jobs. I’m going to have to find some solution. But not right now because I’m going to be very, very late. I rush out the door with only the thoughts of the tube schedule on my mind.

———————————————

“Lishie, no,” I say, taking the marker from her hand, “that’s a shared class writing utensil, you can’t chew on it.”

Lishie pouts at me, blinking her big brown eyes. “But Mr. Snow,” she whines.

“None of that, please. If you must chew on something, please use your own pencil.” I lean down to look at her drawing of a castle. “This is your favourite place, huh?”

“Yeah.” She points at her lovely pink palace. “This is my Lishie only place. It keeps my brother out and shoots lasers at bad guys.”

I nod with a big smile. “Both are very important. Nice work.” I turn to Zahir. His drawing is of a beautiful shoreline with a fiery sunset. “And what place is this?”

“It’s the view from my grandparent’s house,” he chirps.

“It looks lovely, Zahir, good job.”

I stand up and check the other kids. They’re all doing wonderfully. I help where needed, handing them markers and giving colour suggestions. Luckily the kiddos are being good today. I don’t think I can handle their particular brand of tornado like insanity right now.

“Mr. Snow, look what I did!” I lean down to Harrison’s level. His picture is of himself with his two Mums holding hands under an abundance of trees.

“It’s amazing, Harry,” I say. “Where are you three in this picture?”

“We’re at the camping ground where my Mums met. They got married at the lake last year. We go there every summer break.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet.”

“Are you married, Mr. Snow?” Rosanne calls out. I hate mean nicknames. They’re a dumb bullying tactic. At the same time though, “Nosey Rosie” is occasionally apt. Not that I’d ever say that out loud, of course.

“No, I’m not married, Rose,” I say calmly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

The kids start muttering and giggling. I sigh, shaking my head. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend either. But my love life is none of your business, munchkins.”

“A boyfriend?” Liza shouts. “My mum said you probably have a boyfriend.”

I sigh and rub my temple. Well, while her mother is correct, the beautiful and single Ms.Thorn has also made many advances on me. I suppose me being gay rationalises my kind rejections of her. I believe she needs to get over herself.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” I hate lying to the kids, but I’m not going to talk about my relationship with them. “Again, my love life is personal.”

Thandi gasps, and leans over to Riya beside her. Her tone suggests a whisper, but her volume shows she absolutely means to be heard. “What if Mr. Snow has a secret girlfriend or boyfriend?”

They all start chattering away with big grins on their faces. I sigh heavily. There is nothing ten year olds love more than gossiping, especially about their teachers. I’ve caught my munchkins talking about if the football coach and year 11 science teacher are together. (They aren’t. Both Coach Markova and Mr. Saadia have been married for over twenty years. Their husbands are wonderful friends.) I don’t want to become the next rumour on the playground.

“Okay, hush up all of you,” I say loudly. They all quiet down. “It’s not appropriate to discuss my personal life, so you’re going to stop right now, understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Snow,” they reply all at once in a shamed, slightly annoyed tone. It’s one I’m extremely familiar with.

“Good. Now go back to your drawings, or we’ll start the maths worksheets early.”

They all gasp, then go back to drawing. I hear whispers about normal things, like Power Rangers and Disney movies. I sigh and return to my desk, leaning back in the chair. Honestly, even if I did want to answer the kids, I wouldn’t be sure what to say. I do have a boyfriend officially, but I barely see him. Twice a week at best. It’s not his fault, he tries his best. I fuck up more than him honestly. I just wish we could be...more boyfriends? That doesn’t make sense.

My pocket buzzes and I pull out my phone. I’m not supposed to use it during class hours, but the kids are working right now, it’s fine. The text is from Baz. My pulse speeds up like it does every time. But when I open it, my heart drops instead.

Baz [13:40] Hey love. So sorry but I can’t come over tonight. Need to pick up an extra shift. I promise I’ll make it up to you ❤️

I sigh heavily, trying to suppress the disappointment and hurt. It’s not his fault, he’s doing his best. We’ll figure something out. Right?

Simon [13:41] it’s alright love we’ll find another time

Baz [13:41] ❤️

———————————————

“No, no, hold the rock like this.” Baz adjusts my grip. I love his fingers, long and elegant. If he wasn’t a doctor, I think he would make an incredible pianist.

“How does the way I hold the rock change anything?” I ask.

“It helps you get the right angle to skip it.”

I frown in confusion. “I thought the rock’s shape helped with that.”

“Both help. So,” he guides my arm back, “let’s try.”

Baz’s callused fingers caress my bare skin. I let out a shaky breath. God, I shouldn’t get this hot and bothered from Baz just touching me. I’m not some horndog, I can wait for sex. The pent up tension is just...getting to me a bit.

“Now flick it, Snow,” Baz says.

I fling the stone forward. It flies over the pond, sending ripples across the aquamarine water. The stone nearly reaches the other side before finally dropping. I’m grinning ear to ear. When I turn around, Baz is too.

“Wonderful job, love.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “I knew you could do it.”

God, I’m going to melt into a puddle. I peck his lips softly. “Thanks for showing me, love.”

He kisses me back, a bit firmer. I would snog the life out of him right now if we weren’t in the middle of Regent’s Park, apparently a popular relaxation spot for UCLH. We’re surrounded by nurses chatting, residents resting, and doctors smoking cigarettes. (Baz says doctors truly have the least regard for their own health.) We sadly pull apart and take a seat on a bench. I put my head on his strong shoulder, and he throws his arm around me.

“How were psych rounds today?” I ask.

“Awful,” he groans. “Mr. Teversham still refuses to take his medication, and Mx. Joseph is fighting therapy at every turn.”

“Hm, well, you expected this. Any ideas?”

“Mx. Joseph needs to be in therapy without knowing they're in therapy. Mr. Teversham needs to be sedated so he can’t yell at me anymore.”

I snort. “Not sure that’s legal.”

“It’s not, but one can dream. Both probably need adjustments in their medications but that would affect serotonin levels too much at this delicate stage of treatment.”

“Mm, that sucks. Anything you could do for now?”

“More group therapy and coping techniques, I suppose. Little else we can do.”

I nod thoughtfully. Honestly, I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I try to be interested. It’s important to him so I do my best.

He slowly strokes my hair. I lean closer to him. “How’s your work going, love?”

“It’s alright. Kids aren’t being too destructive. Oh, I’ve been working on something else though.”

Baz smiles, pulling me closer. “What’s that?”

“A new scone recipe.”

He lets out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back so far some of his gelled hair gets dislodged. I like the way a few raven strands fall in his face. “You seriously haven’t run out of new ones to try?”

I shrug. “Not yet. Maybe one day.”

“And then you’ll start making your own.”

“Probably.” I throw both arms around his torso, squeezing him tight. “I’ll give them to you to try.”

He chuckles softly. “Well, maybe. I have to stay in good shape to keep up with the other residents, and I can’t mess up what little sleep I have.”

I deflate slightly. Right, he’s gotta watch his health more than me. I should remember that. Bloody hell, I’m a terrible boyfriend. “R-Right. Well, I’ll make something else for you I guess...”

He makes a humming noise, but I can’t tell what it means. I’m horrible at non-verbal cues and unfortunately Baz is still no exception. I want to ask him about being around, about us being together, but the words get all tangled in my throat. I don’t know how to ask him without sounding like a selfish arse.

(Maybe I am a selfish arse. Maybe I don’t deserve this, deserve him.)

(No no, Simon, stop it, stop with the self deprecation.)

(Even though he is better than me...)

I’m about to open my mouth when two clashing beeps ring out. Baz and I scramble to our phones.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Emergency staff meeting in twenty minutes. I’m gonna need to get a cab.”

“Me too,” Baz sighs. “Dr. Dehnavi wants to talk to me about a new inpatient. I suppose I should be flattered, but I’m more annoyed.”

“We’re both suffering it seems.”

“Apparently.” Baz leans over and pecks my lips. I lean forward, just slightly, asking for more that I can’t have right now. “I’ll text you later, love.”

“Yeah, me too.” We dash off in different directions. The questions I have still hang in my throat, but I put them down for now. Next time. Maybe...

———————————————

Thursday April 21

Baz [06:06] Hi, love. I’m finally done my night shift. We still on for the cafe this afternoon?

Simon [07:01] hey sorry I didn’t get this until now. unfortunately i’ve got some last minute extra tutoring to do with Sasha sorry

Baz [07:02] It’s alright. You free Friday night?

Simon [07:02] nah got grading ☹️ gotta go to class ttyl!

Baz [07:02] Alright, talk to you later.

———————————————

Sunday April 30

Simon [17:37] hey baz can I come over tonight?

Baz [17:58] Unfortunately not. I’m on call for OBGYN all night. Lots of sitting with tiny sick babies in the NICU...

Simon [18:05] fuck that doesn’t sound fun at all ☹️

Baz [18:06] Absolutely is not. I’ll text you later okay?

Simon [18:06] Okay ❤️

———————————————

Wednesday May 8

Baz [22:24] I miss you

Simon [22:24] I miss you too

———————————————

My phone rings at lunch. Baz’s slightly smiling face looks right back at me. I took the photo one night when we were watching telly. He’s got his hair all piled up in a bun, wearing an LSE sweatshirt. He looks gorgeous, as always. I’m so entranced by the picture that I answer it just before the last ring.

“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Baz replies, sounding extremely tired. (He’s been sounding like that more and more lately.) “How’s your day been?”

“Not too bad. Joey fired a spitball at me, but I took the straw away pretty quickly.“

“Dear Lord, you teach monsters.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Nope, just children, love. They’re naturally nightmares.”

“Don’t have to tell me, Snow, I have four younger siblings.” He sighs, and I can imagine him tilting his head back, hair falling down behind him. It’s a nice image. “Are you free next Friday?”

“Hm, let me check.” I look at my Google calendar, which is filled to the brim with multicoloured event tabs, everything from field trips to when lesson plans need to be done. (I consider the second one more a guideline than a rule.) Friday is surprisingly blank. A grin breaks out across my face. “Yeah, Friday is good. Got something in mind?”

“Well, I finally have a Friday off. So I was thinking we could dress up and go somewhere nice. Somewhere with fine food, candles, a generally romantic atmosphere. Does that sound good to you?”

I can’t help biting my bottom lip like some stupid teenager. I haven’t seen my boyfriend in person in nearly three weeks, sue me. Sure there’s been some texting and calls and Facetimes, but none of that compares to the real thing. I’ve missed how Baz’s long fingers feel between mine, or the way he cups my cheek perfectly when he kisses me. I just want to be with him. And finally we have a chance.

“That sounds very good. And uh...” I take a pause to muscle up courage to say what I really, really want to say. “Do you want to go to my place afterwards? And sleep over? But y’know...not sleep?” Baz snorts. My cheeks are probably bright red. I groan and rub my forehead. “Sorry, that sounded dumb. I’m an adult, I should be able to talk about sex openly.”

Baz sighs in his strangely affectionate way. “Well, we both know you’re not the best with words, Snow.”

I chuckle and shrug. “Okay, true. But the message still got across right? What I’m asking? But please don’t feel pressured, I just wanted to ask if we could try...”

“Yes, it definitely did. And I would love to try. I think six months is a long enough wait. And I’m really sorry about that.”

“Don’t blame yourself, love, we’ve both been pretty physically absent. Life has just been nuts for us.”

“Agreed. So it’ll be nice to...unwind a bit.”

My face is absolutely bright red now. A lot of inappropriate thoughts are racing through my head right now. I have to shove them down so my brain doesn’t start dribbling out my ears before I have to go back to teaching.

“I-I would like that a lot too.” And of course the first lunch bell decides to ring just then. I groan loudly. “Fuck, lunch is over. Kids will be back soon. Text you later to set up details?”

“Sounds good. Bye, darling.

“Bye, darling.”

I listen until Baz hangs up, then press my phone to my chest with a sigh. I feel so unbelievably giddy. It’s ridiculous, really, to be this excited about a dinner and (possible) sex. But for some reason, my chest is so full it's about to explode. I want to run around the room, shouting to the heavens that I’m going on a lovely, romantic date with Basilton Grimm-Pitch.

Fuck, maybe I really am love. That’s a terrifying, wonderful thought.

———————————————

“Does my hair look alright?” I tousle it to the left, then to the right, then to the left again. Penny sighs and shakes her head on my screen.

“It looks fine either way. But if you don’t decide soon, you’re going to be late!”

I groan and tighten my tie, trying to see myself in my tiny image in the corner. “I know, I know, I just want this to be perfect.”

“Nothing can be perfect, Si.”

“Yeah, but I can try.” I sigh, buttoning my grey suit jacket. This is the one nice suit I own, and I took great precautions to keep it from getting wrinkled on my way to work. “So much hasn’t gone right or easily in our relationship. I want one thing to not go down the drain.”

Penny nods thoughtfully. “Understandable. Just also be realistic.”

“Yes, I will.” I check my watch (a graduation gift from Penny that goes really well with my suit) and inhale sharply. “Shit, I really do have to go. Bye, Pen!”

She waves with a big, toothy smile. “Bye, Si, good luck!”

“Thank you!”

We press the red button at the same time. I tuck my phone into my jacket, then do a last cursory look at myself. No wrinkles? Check. Dashingly messy hair? Check. “Supplies” for later waiting in my bedside table at home? Absolutely check. Awesome. I’m so bloody excited I could seriously start flying right now.

“M-Mr. Snow?”

My head head whips around at the small, familiar voice. It’s Jeremy, with his wavy brown hair and little freckles. He’s sniffling, wiping his nose and blood shot eyes. I immediately rush forward and get on my knees in front of him.

“Jeremy? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He makes a big sniff, more tears falling down his cheeks. “M-My dad was supposed to pick me up outside, but he never came! And Ms. Reinhart tried to call my mum and she’s not answering and I don’t know what to do!”

He breaks out into another sob. He wraps his little arms around my neck, crying into my shoulder. I pat his back, trying to comfort as best I can. Poor kid. I’m unfortunately aware of what Jeremy’s parents are like. This isn’t out of character for them. His dad’s probably off with his college age mistress and his mum is partying late with her friends. From what I know, Jeremy was an accidental teen pregnancy, and now his parents hate each other and resent Jeremy for “ruining” their young lives. (Baz would say something about emotional stunting and projecting and shit.) This is the first time they’ve truly abandoned him though. Poor, poor kid.

“Is there anyone you trust who could come get you?” I ask quietly.

“My aunt,” he sniffles. “But she’s super far away.”

“Okay, where does she live?”

“L-Luton, I think.”

Fuck, he’s not exaggerating. Luton is an hour away on a good day, and it’s the middle of London rush hour. His parents may be able get here before her, but she’s probably much more stable than both of them put together.

“Alright. Do you know her number?”

Jeremy nods and moves off my shoulder. He pulls out a cheap flip phone. One of his parents probably gave it to him for emergencies. That’s one good decision on their part. He then hands it to me. The contact is listed as “Auntie Caroline.” I stand up and press dial, Jeremy still clinging to my leg. It only rings twice before it’s picked up.

“Jeremy?” a seemingly female voice says, sounding utterly frantic. “Are you okay, love?”

“Hi,” I say, “I’m Simon Snow, Jeremy’s teacher. Don’t worry, he’s here with me, he’s safe.”

She lets out a very deep sigh. “Oh thank god. Is there something wrong?”

“Unfortunately, yes. His father was supposed to pick him up but hasn’t shown, and his mother isn’t answering her calls.”

“Those bastards,” she growls. “My brother and his good for nothing wife have already put him through hell, but this just takes the bloody cake!”

“Believe me, I agree with you. Considering our shared opinion, I was hoping you could come pick him up? I know it’s a lot to ask this late and you’re all the way in Luton but-”

“Don't have to ask me twice. I’ll be there as soon as I can. But it’s going to take me an hour, maybe two.”

I think about Baz, about everything we have planned, about every missed connection these past few weeks. But then I look down at Jeremy, who has the most tragic expression I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. I sigh heavily, then put the phone back to my ear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him at school until you come. Let me give you the address.”

I rattle off the school’s address, my room number, and the best route to get here. She listens raptly, obviously scribbling it all down.

“Alright, got it. Thank you, Mr. Snow, this means so much to me.”

“No problem, see you soon.”

The line clicks off. I get back down in front of Jeremy. “Your aunt is going to be here soon, Jer. Until then, we’re gonna stay here and sit tight. Okay?”

Jeremy nods, wiping away more snot. “O-Okay.”

“Awesome. How about you go sit in the reading corner and I’ll join you in just a sec.”

“Okay.” He throws himself at me, hugging me tight. “Thank you, Mr. Snow.”

I smile and pat his head. “You’re very welcome, Jeremy. Now go read and get your mind off all this.”

He pulls away and runs over to the reading nook, throwing himself into the neon pink bean bag chair. He grabs a Harry Potter book. Good pick, it’s something he’s familiar with. Though I hate to think how much he relates to the way Harry grew up.

I go to my desk on the other side of the room and take my phone out. Baz’s beautiful contact picture stares back at me, and my heart twists painfully. I hate this situation. I hate that I’m doing this again after nearly three bloody weeks of no physical contact. I can only hope he can understand. And forgive me. The other end rings three times.

“Hey.” Baz’s honey sweet voice is both comforting and painful right now.

“Hey,” I sigh.

“Oh no, that’s not a good ‘hey,’ is it?”

“No, unfortunately, it’s not.” I run a hand through my hair. “Remember Jeremy? One of my kids?”

“Yes, the one with the arsehole parents.”

“Yeah, that’s him. And tonight his parents have really taken the cake. Dad was supposed to be here but is probably off shagging his barely legal mistress, and mum is probably out clubbing and not picking up either.”

“Bloody hell, what a nightmare.”

“Exactly.” I slump into my chair, tugging my tie loose. “His aunt’s coming to pick him up, but...she lives in Luton...”

It’s Baz’s turn to sigh deeply. “And you’re going to have to stay with him until she gets there.”

God, I'm such an arsehole, and a predictable one at that. “I’m so, so sorry, Baz. I really wanted to go out tonight, and I know you don’t get many days off. This is such an out of the blue thing and I can’t just leave him. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s alright, Snow, I understand. I’ll hold you to that promise, okay?”

“Please do. I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“That’s good. Bye, love.” The tinge of sadness in Baz’s voice fucking kills me.

“Bye, darling.”

He hangs up, and I hang my head with a quiet groan. I’m such a dickhead. I could’ve left Jeremy with Ms. Reinhart and went on my date, but I know she has a sick mother at home that she takes care of. Then I would have ruined the date by feeling all guilty and shit. I hate that this is probably the best choice.

“Mr. Snow?” I turn to Jeremy. He’s looking at me with a furrowed brow and pout. “Are you okay?”

I shove all my guilt and worry deep down, and put a big smile on my face. “Yeah, I’m good, Jer. Now how about you read some Harry Potter to me? I’d love to hear it.”

A grin breaks out on his face. “Okay.”

I leave my jacket and tie on my desk and stride over to him. I sit in the beanbag next to him. (Of course I didn’t get these things just for the kids.) Jeremy opens the book to his page.

“Chapter 12,” he starts with gusto

And I sit there listening to him for God knows how long. I laugh, make comments, correct his pronunciation when needed. I'm still a teacher after all. Then when the chapter is done, we watch silly animal videos on my laptop. I make sure Jeremy is happy. He deserves that after all of this. He needs to feel safe. I just wish it wasn’t at the sacrifice of Baz getting stood up, again. God, am I ever going to get to see my boyfriend again? Is the universe ever going to let us have a moment together? I can’t really blame the universe though, I guess. This was my choice. I’m awful. Baz doesn’t deserve this. I don’t deserve him, honestly.

Soon enough, a middle aged woman with long pink and purple hair sticks her head through the door at the other side of the room. “Hello?”

Jeremy grins and drops the book immediately. “Auntie Caroline!”

Caroline grins and catches Jeremy right in her arms, holding him up high. I walk to them but keep a good distance. “Hey munchkin, good to see you. You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Snow stayed with me. We watched kittens!”

“That sounds awesome.” Caroline turns to me. “Thank you so much, Mr. Snow. Is there any way I can repay you?”

I wave my hand. “Don’t worry, no payment is needed. Just glad Jeremy has somewhere to go.

Her face falls slightly. She puts Jeremy down, touching his head. “Can you go get all your stuff, dear?”

“Okay!” Jeremy races off to the cubby area at ten year old speed. It’s a unique phenomenon. Caroline looks at me with a very serious expression.

“Here’s the thing,” she says in a hushed tone, “I’ve been trying to build a custody case for months, but I haven’t been able to get concrete proof of abuse and neglect. This changes things. If my lawyer needs you to, could you please testify at the custody hearing? I know it’s a lot to ask. You’ve already done so much, so if you can’t, I understand-”

“Say no more.” I take a sticky note from my desk and write out my mobile number. “Here. Tell your lawyer they’re free to call me. I’ll do anything to help Jeremy get somewhere safe.”

She sighs and takes the note. “Thank you, Mr. Snow.”

“Please, call me Simon. Only my students have to use my last name so I can pretend I have their respect.”

She chuckles. “Okay, Simon. It’s no wonder Jeremy says you’re his favourite teacher.”

Well, I don’t need an ego stroke (at least that’s what I tell myself), but...it’s nice. I nod with a humble smile. “Good to know.”

Jeremy runs up, wearing his bright red power rangers backpack. “Ready.”

“Awesome. Say goodbye to Mr. Snow.”

Jeremy gives me a big, full arm wave. “Bye bye, Mr. Snow.”

I tousle his hair, making him giggle. “Bye, Jeremy. See you Monday.”

“See you!” He grabs Caroline’s hand and literally skips away with her. Honestly, I’ve never seen him this happy outside of class. He usually hangs his head and slumps off after hanging around in the cubby area for as long as possible. I know the patter well. It's what I used to do before I went to Watford, when I was stuck in shitty group homes. I hope Caroline gets custody. Jeremy deserves to be happy.

Slowly but surely, I collect all my stuff, from my snot covered jacket to my book bag. I look at my phone, and see a few texts from Baz.

Baz [16:56] Hey, just wanted to reassure you that I’m not upset, I understand. I’ll get another day off eventually.

Baz [18:30] I’ve got some takeout, it’s lovely. I’ll save some for you the next time you come over ❤️

Baz [19:18] I’m going to bed soon. Hope Jeremy gets to his aunt’s safe. Good night, love.

I sigh, my heart feeling like a lead balloon. I absolutely need to make this up to him. I’ll figure something out when my brain isn’t so exhausted. For now, I can at least text him back.

Simon [19:23] Sleep well, love. I’ll talk to you in the morning ❤️

Baz doesn’t reply. He’s probably asleep. Probably...

I walk home with my shoulders slumped and feeling like an utter, utter twat.

———————————————

“I’m a dick,” I groan.

“You’re not a dick,” Penny says. “You did the right thing and kept a student safe. That makes you an incredible teacher.”

“And a crap boyfriend.” I throw my cookie dough on the counter a little too hard. It makes an awful splat noise.

“Well, maybe, but Baz has bailed because of his work as well. And he said he understood.”

I grumble as I roll out little balls between my hands. Baking always helps me calm down. Well, usually. Right now I’m close to crushing each one. “Yeah, I guess, but I still feel super bad.”

“Well, take him out on his next day off.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle darkly, “that’ll probably be in about two or three months.”

Penny sighs, sounding just as defeated as I feel. “That fucking sucks. I can’t believe his schedule is really that insane.”

“He works himself to the bone, because he’s a great doctor and he’s going to be a great psychiatrist. It just means we don’t get a lot of time together, but it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. Both of you need to carve out more time for each other. You’re not the only one who is having issues, Si.”

“Yeah, but like, he can’t help but work more. Being a doctor is more demanding than being a teacher. He doesn’t have control of his hours.”

“Neither do you!” She’s practically yelling. “Being a good teacher means going above and beyond for your students. Therefore, you have to put in extra hours if you want your students to have a great education.”

I make a semi agreement noise. My non-verbal way of saying she may have a point but I don’t like it. “Okay, maybe. But Baz doesn’t deserve to be neglected because of it.”

“Of course he doesn’t, Si, which is why you have to make time for him. And he has to do the same for you if you want this relationship to work.”

“I know you’re right, Pen, I just don’t know how.”

There’s a small pause, and I can imagine Pen stroking her chin like the old scholar she is in spirit. It’s comforting to think of. Penny thinking was a staple of the best parts of my childhood.

“What time is it where you are?” she asks.

I look down at my watch. “Uh, about 11?”

“Good. Finish what you’re baking, bring it to the hospital, surprise Baz with home baked treats. Then see if you can get Baz to go to lunch with you. If not, at least give him something to eat during his insane shift. Try to talk to him or ask him to talk about all this later. Sound doable?”

I’m grinning so wide it threatens to dislodge my earbuds. “Yeah, definitely sounds doable. Thanks, Pen.”

“No problem. Si. Now can I run this new lesson plan by you?”

“Absolutely, go ahead.”

Penny starts rattling off her curriculum points while I throw the cookies in the oven. And for the first time today, I feel good. I feel hopeful. It’s nice. I’ve missed it.

———————————————

UCLH is a towering, intimidating giant of white metal and panes of glass. It’s hard to not feel freaked out looking at it. Anytime I went to the hospital as a kid it was because of a fight at the group home or injuries from particularly awful foster parents. There was never a good reason to be here. Until now, that is.

From what I remember, Baz said he would be on psychiatry today. Problem is, I have no idea where the fuck that is. I can barely navigate my tiny school. This is an entirely different, far more sterile beast. I walk to the front desk where a man with big round glasses and very cool arm tattoos is sitting.

“Hi,” I say cheerily as possible.

“Hello,” he replies with a perfect, pearly white smile and a thick American accent. “How can I help you today?”

“Uh, I’m looking for the psychiatry wing? Specifically for Dr. Grimm-Pitch.”

“Okay. Are you a patient...?

“No, no, I’m his boyfriend. Got some stuff to drop off for him if he’s not too busy.” I hold up the Christmas tupperware filled with raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies. They’re Baz’s favourite.

The man’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, you’re Basil’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah, last time I checked,” I chuckle.

“Wow. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Shepard, from Omaha, Nebraska.”

He holds out his hand, and I of course shake it. “Nice to meet you, Shepard from Omaha, Nebraska. I’m Simon, from uh, Lancashire, I guess.”

“Good too meet you too, man.” He leans his cheek on his hand. “Y’know, Basil has mentioned you exist a couple times, but won’t say anything else no matter how much I beg him.”

I shrug with a smile. “He’s a private person.”

“Yeah, but if I were dating you, I’d be bragging about it.”

Well, now my face must look utterly ridiculous. I’m twenty five years old and blushing from one compliment. “T-Thanks, wow. You’re pretty forward.”

He throws his head back laughing. “Nah, just blunt, man. And way too nosy, at least according to your boyfriend. Says I have some sort of anxiety fueled need to overshare and figure out everything about people."

"That...sounds odd."

Shepard shrugs. "Pretty sure it's made up. Besides, I already have two therapists. Don't need a third one." He laughs, and I laugh along with him. Thought part of me is truly concerned about him. Hope he's okay, he seems nice. "Anyway, I hope Basil is less intense outside of work than here.”

“Most of the time, yeah. He’s got his softer side, just has trouble showing it.”

“Believe it when I see it. Also,” he hands me a pamphlet, “psychiatry is on the fifth floor. Take the south elevator up and turn to the right. Basil should be at the front desk. Said he had patient files to sort all day.”

“Awesome, thanks.” I take out a cookie and hold it out to him. “Here, you can have this, unless you’re allergic to berries, gluten, or dairy.”

“Nope. I will happily take that.” He plucks it from my hand. “Thanks, man. Tell Basil I say hi, and I still have his pen.”

“Will do, thanks!”

He waves me off with half the cookie already in his mouth. Interesting guy. I may have to come back to talk to him more.

I follow Shepard’s instructions as best I can. Though I get lost trying to find the elevators, twice. The halls twist and turn and loop back in on themselves. Seriously, who designed this hospital, Willy Wonka? Eventually I finally make it to the elevators and suffer in the sanitizer smelling tube for five floors. The psychiatry floor itself isn’t too bad, just kind of bland. Lots of blank grey walls and inoffensive paintings of scenic nature. And it’s pretty straight forward compared to the first floor. I just have to walk down the hall, turn at the “front desk” sign, and there will be-

I freeze in place. There’s Baz, with some redheaded guy leaning on his desk.

“Come on, Basil, you can’t be serious,” he says in a smooth, beautiful voice. “I’d totally shag Dr. Mayer over Dr. Dehnavi. Mayer has such polished charm.”

“Hm, I prefer a more ruggish look,” Baz replies with a half smile. “And Dehnavi gets that wonderful five o’clock shadow after a day of rounds.”

“True, very true. Not so hot when he’s yelling about oral board prep.”

Baz lets out a laugh, shaking his head. Wisps of black hair fall in his face. He looks at the redhead with a sly smile. “Well, I haven’t gotten to that point yet. But I do get an earful about SSRI dosage levels.”

“Oh lord, you’re giving me baby doctor flashbacks, stop. I’m scared Dr. D is going to be on the other side to yell our asses into submission.”

They laugh together, and redhead moves closer to Baz, their hands nearly touching. My heart drops to the ground and burrows into the centre of the fucking Earth.

Baz looks at ease, content, and most of all, this guy seems to understand what the hell he’s talking about. Definitely more than I ever have. And he’s super bloody attractive. And he’s there, like I haven’t been. Fuck. Deep down, I thought this was going to happen, but it’s still ripping me apart. Baz has found someone better. I’m just the stupid poor orphaned kid he had a crush on in school. Now he’s gotten those old feelings out of his system and he’s found someone, another doctor no less, who can easily be a better boyfriend. Bloody hell, I’m about to cry. I need to go, right now.

I quietly and quickly get away. Going back through the hospital is a blur. And not just because my eyes are filled with tears and fogging up my glasses. My brain is a jumbled, heartbroken mess that can’t focus on anything. I think Shepard waves at me as I walk past but I can’t bring myself to respond right now. I don’t stop moving until I throw myself into my car, tossing the cookies on the front seat.

Finally, I have to stop. And worse I have to think. So, Baz has found a new guy. Some pretty red haired doctor who makes him laugh with doctor humour and probably doesn’t bail. He’s probably going to break up with me today. I should just break up with him, save him the hassle...

I’m gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white. My cheeks are raw from wiping tears away. I think about losing Baz, losing a chance to make things better, and it's the worst pain I've ever felt. A small part of me thought that maybe Baz was it. That he was the person I could actually, possibly spend the rest of my life with. Maybe it was a stupid thought. I was so stupid.

My head falls forward, forehead pressed against the wheel. And I just cry.

———————————————

I’ve called in sick for a week. I’ve never called in for that long, not once in my teaching career. But I can’t get off my couch, let alone leave my flat. I’ve been laying here for days, surrounded by takeaway wrappers, watching old Dr. Who episodes, cuddling Cherry nonstop. Penny is probably worried about me but I haven’t really been using my phone. I’ve tried to call Baz a few times, but always hang up before it starts dialing. I know I should just rip off the band-aid already. But I’m a coward, I guess. I’ll just lay here, waiting for Baz to call me and finally dump me. Every time I think about it, I still cry a little.

The phone rings and my heart gets so tight I can hardly breathe. Fuck, this is it. I slowly lift it up. But it’s not Baz’s photo I see, or Penny’s. Rather, it’s Agatha’s, grinning with her soft California tan. I press talk right away.

“Hello?” I say

“Oh thank god,” Agatha sighs, “you’re alive. We were all sure you’d been in a horrible accident or something!”

“Um, no, I’m fine, just a little under the weather.”

“Then why haven’t you been answering your fucking texts, you arse?!”

I move the phone away from my ear slightly to avoid hearing loss. “I told you, I’ve been sick. Haven’t felt like responding...”

“Okay, that excuse could work on Baz or even Penny, but I’m not buying it. Cut the crap, Simon, what’s wrong?”

I sigh, running a hand over my face. Well, she’s here, and I’m too tired to make up another lie. “Baz is breaking up with me.”

“What?!” I move the phone again. Agatha is going to make me go partially deaf in one phone call. “That dickhead! I- Wait, what do you mean is?”

“Well, uh...he hasn’t dumped me yet...”

Agatha takes a pause. I can imagine her expression right now. Probably a lot of confusion mixed with disbelief. “Okay, please explain this to me, because I’m so lost.”

I sit up, scratching the back of my neck. “Well, um, Baz and I have been having issues meeting up for the past month. Things kept happening. Baz had this wonderful date planned after three weeks of not seeing each other. But then a kid from my class needed someone to stay with him because his stupid parents wouldn’t show up and we had to wait for someone else. So I cancelled and Baz said he understood but I still felt awful. Then the next day I was going to bring him cookies to say sorry, but when I got there, I saw him chatting with this redhead doctor. And I realised Baz had found someone better. Hoped it wouldn't happen but yeah, he’s going to break up with me. Just waiting for him to call or come over. I’d do it myself but I’m too much of a wimp.”

There’s a long drawn out silence. The only sounds are the California waves on Aggie’s end and Cherry meowing for attention on mine. More than ever, I wish I was a mind reader. I want to know what’s going through her head. It’s probably less muddled than mine.

“Simon,” she says slowly, “I need you to know that I’m only saying this because I love you very, very much. This all comes from a place of caring.”

“Uh...okay?” Now I really need to know what’s in her head. But I think I’m about to find out.

Agatha takes a few deep breaths, and then, well...explodes. “You absolute, goddamn fucking numpty! You’re seriously throwing away objectively the best relationship you’ve ever had because you saw him chit chatting with some redheaded twat!? For Christ’s sake, Simon, this is beyond idiotic and self destructive!”

“Hey I-”

“Shush, Simon!” I shut my mouth. “I get you have some serious self esteem issues, Si, but what happened to acknowledging and dealing with them? You are not a warm body for Baz until he finds someone ‘better.’ He’s been pining after you since bloody Watford and being with you is his dream come true. I know because he’s told me so!”

My cheeks flush a little. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really! He adores you, Si, he thinks you hung the bloody moon. In no world would he just up and dump you!”

“I-I mean, yeah, but like, I’ve been an awful boyfriend lately. I wouldn’t blame him if he did...”

“You really think Basilton Pitch, king of overthinking and future psychiatrist, would dump you without first trying to talk?”

“Um, well, I can see your point.”

“Good. I promise you, Simon, he doesn’t want to break up with you. But if you don’t talk to him soon, it may be too late. So get your arse in gear and get your guy. Or I’ll come from all the way across a continent and an ocean just to smack you upside the head.”

I chuckle softly. Huh, this is the first time that’s happened in awhile. Feels good to laugh. “Okay, will do. Thank you, Ags.”

“You’re very welcome, Si. Please send me an update later so I know you’re okay? And Penny too so she doesn’t blow a gasket.”

“I promise. Talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Simon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The second my phone is off, I jump up. I’m invigorated with new energy, both happy and terrified. I may have just ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me because I’m insecure as fuck. I’ve got to fix it. Before it’s too late.

I pick up all the takeaway containers at lightning speed. They don’t all fit into my trash though (God that’s sad), so I have to get a new trash bag. At least I don’t have a depression nest anymore. That’s a good start. Next step, I run to the shower. I smell fucking ripe. No way I can apologize while smelling like the bottom of a McDonald’s dumpster. Thank every god that I still have some hot water left. I scrub quickly and furiously until I stop feeling so gross.

I jump out and go to my room. Unfortunately, I haven’t done my laundry in a week either. The only things I have are a baggy pair of jeans and one of Baz’s shirts. It’s soft cream with flower buds on it. For all his dark brooding, Baz has a thing for florals. It smells like him, cedar and bergamot with a hint of hospital antiseptic. I put it on.

I’m halfway through the buttons when I hear my door open and close. What the fuck? Who’s here? Who has a key?

“Snow?” Baz’s voice calls out. “Simon, are you here?”

Oh. Oh shit. I dash out of my room, shirt still half open. I even slide on my laminate floor like a cartoon character. Baz is standing in my entryway. And he looks like a total mess. His hair is disheveled, there are huge dark circles under his eyes, and he’s got close to an actual honest to god beard. We just stare at each other way too long. Until I can find my words again.

“Baz,” I stutter. “Hi. W-What are you-”

“Oh thank god.” He runs forward and throws his arms around me in the tightest hug I’ve ever felt. “You’re alive. I thought you were dead or in a coma or-” He pulls back. His eyebrows are all scrunched up. “Is that my shirt?”

My face starts to heat up. “Um, uh, yeah. Didn’t have anything else. I was going to see you. What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

He scoffs, but it’s with a smile. “No, not really, I’ve been worried sick all week. You weren’t answering my texts or Bunce’s. I was scared shitless. I came here because it was my last resort.” He pushes back my hair, rubbing his thumbs along my temple. It’s downright tender. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.” His hands move to my shoulders. “Where did you go?”

“I, uh-” I hang my head. “I-I did something dumb. And I got super sad and I didn’t know what to do. So I was just here a lot...”

His eyes grow wide. “You were here at your apartment? All week?”

“Um, yeah...”

He steps back and blinks. His face is just blank, and honestly it’s more freaky than him panicking. “You’ve been home alone all week, and didn’t tell me?” I nod slowly. That blank face suddenly morphs into unbridled anger. “What the fuck, Snow?! You couldn’t take two seconds to text me back to let me know you’re bloody alive?!”

“I-I didn’t know you texted.”

“Check your phone!”

I scramble over to my couch and scoop up my phone. I haven’t looked at my notifications out of fear. Oh...oh fuck. 53 missed text messages, and 42 are from Baz. My stomach feels like it’s full of rocks. I really am the worst.

“Oh god,” I say, voice very strained. “I’m so sorry, Baz, I was just so caught up in my shit, I wasn’t checking my phone-”

“Obviously.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Why did you come to my work?”

My eyes go very wide and my body becomes very stiff. “Wait, you saw me there?”

“No, but Shepard came to talk to me the next day. He asked if my boyfriend was alright because he ran out looking upset. I was surprised he knew who my boyfriend was, and even more so that you were there. So why were you at UCLH and talk to me?”

“Uh, I wanted to talk to you and say sorry for standing you up. B-But when I came, you were um, talking to this guy...” I curl in myself, rubbing my arm. “And I freaked out because I thought after I fucked up the date you’d found someone better and...were going to dump me.”

I look up, and Baz’s jaw is wide open. He drags his hands down his face. “Oh my god, Simon,” he groans, “after all the time we’ve spent together, I can’t believe you still think that low of me.”

“N-No! I don’t!”

“You thought I would dump you after six months together because of a cancelled date? Which you cancelled to help a neglected child?! I’m not a monster, Snow, I’d never do that.”

“Y-Yeah, I know, Baz. It’s just...” I rub the back of my neck. “When I saw you with him, it made all this shit come up and I totally panicked-”

“I understand that, Simon. But it was one conversation with another guy! Why did you ghost me instead of just talking?”

He sounds less angry, more desperate than anything. But it makes me feel even worse. “Because...because I got scared and anxious and I hated seeing it so much...yeah.”

Baz’s mouth is a thin line. “That’s not a real answer, Snow. Why on Earth did you think the worst of me instead of trying to talk?”

“It’s not about you!” I shout desperately. All the words are so muddled up, I can’t get them out. It’s not Baz’s fault, my brain is just being so unhelpful right now. I wasn’t ready for this talk, fuck.

“What does that mean? You stopped talking to me because you thought I was bloody cheating on you! How is this not about me in some capacity?!”

“I didn’t think you were cheating! I just- I thought- I just got so freaked out because I didn’t want to lose you-”

“You weren’t going to lose me!”

“But I thought I was and that scared me so much because I- well, I-”

“Because what, Snow?!”

“Because I love you, you massive arsehole!”

The room goes absolutely, perfectly silent. Baz’s lips have fallen wide open. I inhale sharply. Oh God, did I really just say that out loud? I clap a hand over my mouth and look down, trying to get my breathing under control. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m such an idiot. Baz is going to dump me for sure. Adores me or not, I’ve probably scared him off. My hand falls down.

“I’m so sorry, Baz,” I say softly. “I-I didn’t mean to say that. It just came out-”

“Did you mean it?” I lift my eyes up slightly. I expect Baz to look horrified, angry, maybe even disgusted. But instead he looks...kind of awestruck? His eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen them before. I think about lying, but I don’t think he’s upset. And I have a feeling that if I lie he will be. I think I need to stop hiding my feelings from Baz.

“Yeah. I did.”

His lips fall open even more. And I swear, he’s smiling a little. My heart is beating faster. “Seriously? You...you love me? In love with me?”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down my racing mind. I nod and take a small step forward. Not crowding Baz, but getting closer. “Yeah. I'm in love with you, Baz. I-I know it’s too soon, but I can’t help-”

Baz cuts me off with the most intense, head spinning, world shaking kiss of my life. He presses the small of my back with one hand and grabs my curls with the other. I literally stumble backwards from it. Baz takes the chance to press me against my hallway wall. Like he’s shielding from the world with his own body. He’s kissing me so hard, so passionately, and I can’t help but melt.

Is this Baz’s way of saying he loves me too? I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t care. This is heavenly to the Nth degree. I’m good at turning off my brain when needed. So that’s exactly what I do.

I push back against Baz with equal force. He groans so deeply it makes me shudder. I grip his face tight, pushing my fingers through his tangled but still soft hair. He drags his tongue along my bottom teeth, slowly and carefully. I nearly melt into a puddle. We’ve never kissed like this before. Even our most intense snogging sections don’t come close. It’s like Baz is trying to touch and grab every part of me but can’t decide which. I don’t mind. He can have it. I’d give him all that I am and more. I’d tie our hearts together, chamber by chamber.

Baz runs his hands down my thigh. I can feel the heat through my trackies. He hooks under one of my knees, pulling it up. I think I get the message. (I hope). I jump, fully prepared to fall flat on my arse, but Baz catches me easily. I wrap my legs around his waist while he holds me up above him. Christ, he’s strong. It’s so hot. And I love this angle, because I can snog the life out of him more easily. This is amazing. But I still want more.

I pull off his mouth (sadly), just enough so I can speak. “Bed?”

Baz just nods and kisses me again. He pulls us off the wall. He barely stumbles as he walks us through my flat. I scramble to unbutton his shirt. I know Baz is really into this because he’s making no fuss about me possibly ruining his clothes. Soon enough, we stumble into my bedroom. Baz quickly kicks the door shut, cutting off the rest of the world, and I don’t mind one bit.

———————————————

Baz and I roll apart solely because we need to breathe. Our chests are heaving. My blankets and sheets are completely tangled around us. I’m more sweaty than the one time I tried to go to a cross fit class. However, this was a way better workout. I’m glad I kept all those supplies in my nightstand.

So, now I know what sex with Baz is like. It’s sweaty, vigorous, a little awkward, and so, so incredible. Pretty sure my brains have been thoroughly fucked out. It takes me a few panting moments for me to muster up a singular word.

“Wow,” I say. My voice is really hoarse, but I absolutely don’t mind.

Baz lets out a small laugh. His voice sounds rough too. It’s really hot. “Still very eloquent.”

“Fuck off.” I lightly push his sweaty shoulder. But when I start to pull back, Baz grabs my wrist and tugs me towards him. Before I know it, Baz is kissing me again. It’s soft, slow but so unbelievably hot. I completely melt into his arms. He’s so warm and strong and I could spend an eternity wrapped up in him. No more work or life, just Baz and I in this bed forever. My god that would be a dream come true.

He pulls off to kiss across my cheeks, then down my neck. He already knows the exact spots that drive me insane. (Well, Baz has always been a quick study.) My eyes flutter closed. I’m falling into that haze again, where my head gets foggy and I can only think in “yes” and “please” and “more.” Part of me wants to sink back into that bliss, but the aching of my out of shape muscles is unfortunately more insistent.

“Baz,” I whisper, “as much as I would like a fourth round, I’d also like to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Baz groans, but relents and rolls onto his back. We settle for just staring at each other. I don’t mind. Baz is always gorgeous but he is a different kind of beautiful right now. His face is all flushed, pupils blown wide, black hair plastered to his damp forehead. And I thought I couldn’t get more attracted to him.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, absolutely.” I cup his face, running a thumb on his cheekbone. “You?”

“I’m bloody fantastic.” He spreads his fingers out on my side, tracing the most delicate patterns that make me shudder. “Can’t believe I was so scared of this.”

My heart beats faster as my eyebrows scrunch up. “Scared? Of what? Me? I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize, Snow. I wasn’t scared of you, not at all.” He sighs and pulls me a little bit closer. “I just built up sex with you so much in my head that it became overwhelming. I was terrified of fucking it up after wanting it for so long.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it from the start too. Six months of sexual tension really mess with your head.”

He chuckles. I like the way his breath hits my skin. “Simon, love, I first fantasised about sleeping with you when we were 15.”

I was already flushed, but now I’m on fire. It’s a miracle I’m not a pile of ash right now. I flap my mouth open and closed like a fish for too long. Baz just smiles at me like I’m beautiful or something, not a total deer in the headlights.

“R-Really?” I finally get out. “That long?!”

“Mhm. I told you, Snow, I figured out I wanted you in fifth year. Puberty was a bloody nightmare with you right across the room.” We laugh quietly together. But I genuinely feel bad for Baz. I hold the back of his head, running my fingers through his soft hair.

“I’m sorry you went through that, love. Must’ve been awful.”

Baz sighs, putting his hand on mine. “Thank you. At least things worked out in the end." He pecks the tips of my fingers. "I’m glad we finally did this. Real life was far better than any fantasy.”

I kiss the corner of his smile. He giggles, so small and adorable, something I never would’ve thought Baz was capable of until six months ago. I’m so happy. And my heart sinks, thinking about how this was almost over because I was so insecure.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, and Baz’s face becomes much more serious. “I-I’m sorry that I vanished without telling you. That was immature and dumb. And I’m sorry for scaring you. I promise I won’t ever do that again.”

Baz nods slowly, mouth twisting from side to side. He brings our hands between us, holding me tight. “I accept your apology. Just, what happened, love? I’m still not sure what you meant.”

Well, I knew this was coming. Doesn’t make it any easier. I clutch him hard, like I’m scared he’ll go. But if the last hour or two means anything, I don’t think he will. Still, I hold him tight.

“That’s a long story,” I sigh.

Baz presses his lips to the back of my hand. It’s firm and comforting. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”

I carefully roll onto my back. Baz goes onto his side, propping his head up with his free arm. We keep our hands together. I really can’t let go of him right now.

“I meant it when I said it wasn’t about you,” I say. “It’s really not. I don’t think you’re a terrible person who would dump or cheat on me. It’s more that...that I was scared and felt worthless. Part of me has always felt worthless, unlovable. Sometimes my brain is like ‘your own parents didn’t want you, why would anyone else?’”

“Simon-”

“You don’t need to tell me it’s not true, Baz, I know. Most of me does, anyway. But sometimes that mean voice gets louder, and it’s been louder lately. Not because of you, not really. It’s because I think you’re incredible and brilliant and that mean voice kept telling me ‘why the hell is he with you? He’s way too good for you. He’ll find someone better.’ And after weeks of missed dates and the whole dinner fiasco, it got worse. Then when I saw you with the other doctor I guess the anxiety just took over. And I just sort of shut down.”

Baz moves closer. “I’m sorry, that’s horrible.”

“Thanks.” I sigh and run a hand through my tangled hair, like I’m trying to pull the stress out of myself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this. I didn’t want to dump all my shit on you. It’s a lot to deal with and I should deal with it on my own, not pull you in.”

“Simon,” Baz says firmly, holding himself above me, “you can absolutely pull me into your shit. I want to know everything you’re worried and scared about, so I can be there to help if you want. You never have to hide anything because I love every single part of you, no matter how insecure or sad.”

I stare at him for too long. My heartbeat is roaring in my ears. Slowly, a smile stretches out across my face. “You love me?”

Baz’s face pulls together in confusion, and for a moment I’m scared he’s going to take it back, because I’m not worth it. But then I push that fear down because Baz cares about me. He’s shown that again and again. I'm not unworthy of his love.

“Did I not say it?” he says, genuinely surprised and concerned.

“I mean, maybe, but things were a bit...chaotic before.” My eyes flick over to our rumpled clothing strewn across my room. It honestly looks like a tornado somehow hit both a Primark and a Topshop. Baz laughs with a nod.

“Okay, good point. Let me correct that then.” He delicately holds my chin, making sure our eyes meet. Black hair surrounds his face like a dark halo. His deep sea eyes sparkle with his gorgeous smile. Everything about him is absolutely stunning. “I love you, Simon Snow. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, because you are the most kind, most caring, most wonderful man I’ve ever known. You are not a holding place or my second choice. Got that?”

I nod very vigorously. I can’t speak right now, my throat is too filled up with all my emotions for words. I wipe my snot and tears with the back of my hand. Extremely unsexy. God I’m a mess. But Baz still looks at me like I’m the most gorgeous thing in the world, because he loves me, imperfections and all.

“Don’t cry, love,” Baz chuckles, “it’s okay.”

“Just overwhelmed,” I say, still sniffling, “and happy. I love you too.”

Baz kisses my forehead. “I know, and I’m very happy as well.” He tucks his head into the crook of my neck. “Not to get all psychiatrist, but these issues of hidden insecurities and fear we both have are going to reoccur if we don’t communicate more.”

I nod, rubbing the arm he has across my chest. “Yeah, I agree.”

“Good.” He rolls slightly, chin placed on my shoulder. “In the name of communication then, I think not seeing each other for weeks on end isn’t good for us. We need to try to meet in person more.”

“Yeah, definitely. I think not seeing you for a while made my anxiety get worse. Thought you would dump me because it was too hard for us to meet up.”

“Honestly,” Baz sighs, “I felt something similar. Not as badly as you, I think, but still not fun. The self deprecating part of me wondered when you would finally get sick of my insane schedule and break up with me. I’m not exactly the easiest person to date. Or the easiest person, period.”

I laugh quietly and tug him closer. "Me neither, love."

Baz smiles all the way to his ears. He kisses me firmly, making my head spin, before pulling me away just as quickly. Our noses stay pressed together. “Suppose we match then, love.”

I throw my arms around his neck. I’m grinning, I can’t stop grinning. “And you like that?”

“I love it.”

“Me too.” I press against his back, reveling in his warm, smooth skin. “I promise to make more time for you. I want this to work. ”

Baz kisses a mole on my cheek. “So do I. I’m in this for the long haul, Simon.”

“Good, because I’m not letting you go.”

“I would love nothing more.”

I grab Baz’s head and smash our mouths together again. Baz instantly returns it, holding me tight. His body is a warm blanket on top of me, protecting me from anything bad in the world. Yeah, I could spend the rest of my life with Baz. I want that so much. Our snogging gets more intense. And each of us can definitely feel our mutual arousal pressed against our thighs.

Baz pulls off my mouth, but only a little. “What happened to needing to walk tomorrow?”

I shrug with a sly smile. “Eh, who needs walking? You can just carry me everywhere.”

He grins once before kissing me hard. I’m truly a lucky guy. And it’s incredible that Baz thinks the same. I’m living a charmed life.

———————————————

Three months later

“Y’know,” I pant, “you could help.”

Baz looks up from his phone, one eyebrow propped up. “Who carried all your KitchenAid hardware to our new place?”

“Okay, yeah, but that was down the hall, not up four flights of stairs.” I drop another box of books and breathe heavily.

“That mixer was very heavy.”

“Baz.”

He lets out a very dramatic groan, making a show of hanging his head over the back of Penny’s settee. “Fine. I’ll help.”

I don’t miss the joking glint in his eyes. Arsehole. He just likes making a show of it. He kisses my cheek on the way out. I slap his arse, making him yelp, but his smirk tells me he’s not upset at all.

“Are you two flirting?” Penny calls out from the hall. “I told you, my flat is a flirt free zone!”

“No flirting, Bunce,” Baz says. “Just some light groping on Snow’s part.”

Penny groans so loud I’m pretty sure the whole floor can hear her. She walks in with a box filled with figurines. She glares at me viciously. I throw my hands up in surrender.

“I slapped his arse, didn’t grab it.”

“That’s not much better, Si.” She places the box on the ground and puts her hands on her hips. “Focus more on moving and less on your boyfriend’s arse.”

“Aw, don’t be mad, Pen, I’m sorry.” I wrap her up in a tight hug, and she holds me just as close. She’s been doing that a lot lately. I don’t mind. “Y’know, that offer to fly to Chicago and kick Micah’s arse is still on the table.”

That finally makes her laugh. She shakes her head against my chest. “No, it’s alright. I’m mad but not really vengeful. He tried to break up with me, I just wasn’t listening to him.”

“Still not an excuse to start dating someone else.”

“Yeah, I guess," she sniffles. "Thanks for subletting your flat to me."

I kiss the top of her head. "You're very welcome, Pen. Anything for you."

She holds me tighter. I let her hang on to me. It’s the least I can do.

“After all the fuss you made about me helping,” Baz shouts, “now you’re just standing there, Snow? Really?”

I sigh and look up over Penny’s head. Baz is balancing two large boxes because he likes to show off how strong he is. But he’s being helpful, and his strength is hot, so I don’t mind.

“I am comforting my friend,” I say, tone very high and mighty and mocking.

“Yes, but avoiding work must be a plus.”

“Oh, absolutely. And teasing you.”

Penny laughs and pulls back from me, looking at Baz as he puts down the boxes. “As a psychiatrist, you think it says something that even though you’re together now, you two still bicker like in school?”

Baz tilts his head side to side, stroking his chin like a great scholar. “Probably could say something about regressing to old patterns of behaviour from when we were children. But now after time together, working out our issues, and forming better patterns of behaviour, the bickering is now a show of affection rather than true antagonism. Therefore it has transformed into a healthy relationship feature from a bad one. A rare but possible event.”

Penny blinks at him. I’m trying to hide my blush. Don’t really want Penny to know how hot I find Baz being all smart and shit. Still have no idea what he’s talking about, but now I definitely want to rip his clothes off. Penny would kill me though. Murder would not be sexy.

“God,” she chuckles, “you really are a psychiatrist.”

“Yeah he is!” Shepard stumbles in, a box wobbling precariously on his arms. “Either that or he’s a weirdo who enjoys being in a hospital all the time for some reason.” The box tips over. I run up and catch it just in time. “Oh, whoops, sorry.”

“You break it, you suffer Bunce’s wrath, Shep,” Baz says.

“Damn right you do.” Penny walks past him, leveling a look over her glasses. Shepard gulps and watches her as she goes downstairs. And he follows her to help, looking totally out of it.

A pair of familiar arms wrap around my waist. Baz rests his chin on my shoulder. “In my humble psychiatrist opinion, I think our dear American might have a little crush on Bunce.”

I chuckle, cupping his cheek. “I wouldn’t blame him. Pen is pretty awesome.”

“Oh," he says with a teasing lilt, "should I be worried that she’s living down the hall from us now?”

I scoff and roll my eyes like he does at stupid people on telly. “Should I be worried about you working with Dr. Lamb?”

Baz makes a very unattractive dry heaving sound. “Never. That backstabbing twat can go eat a bag of rusty screws. Only reason I give him the time of day is because he’s got my supervisor wrapped around his stupid finger.”

“And if you piss him off you’ll lose important psychiatry rounds, yes, yes, I know. He’s still gonna try to flirt with you.”

“Yeah, because he’s a twat. But I only want you.” He kisses a mole on my neck, his favourite one. “I love you, Simon.”

I kiss his temple. “I love you too.”

“I love you so much I’m willing to give up my lovely condo to move into your weird exposed brick hipster building.”

I scoff and turn to him, arms around his slender neck. “Wasn’t it your idea to move into a bigger place here because it’s closer to both of our workplaces?”

He smiles, kissing the tip of my nose. Bastard. I hated his teasing in school, but he’s right, now it’s out of love. Crazy, stupid, wonderful love. “Since when do you listen to me?”

“You have a good idea every once in a while.”

“How about this one?” He kisses me firmly. When he pulls back a little, my heart is beating rapidly.

“Yeah, I like that one.”

“Good.” We kiss again, soft and slow. Never before have I felt so safe and content kissing someone. Baz can hold me close and make all my worries go away. Part of me still can’t believe I get to have this. A person who adores me completely, including every single weird, flawed, stupid part too. But I have to stop thinking like that. I’m allowed to be happy. I’m allowed to be with someone so incredible. And someone so incredible can absolutely love me back. The work we've both put in to being together shows our mutual care again and again. We deserve to be happy together. It's amazing.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Baz and I pull apart to look at Penny’s glaring face. “We leave you two alone for five minutes and you’re already defiling my apartment?”

“This is still technically Snow’s flat, you know,” Baz says smoothly.

“And you don’t want to know how we’ve already defiled it.” I give the biggest shit eating grin I can.

Penny waves her hands in front of herself. “Nope, nope, I’d rather live in blissful ignorance. Also, Simon," Penny hands me an envelope, "postman came. This is for you. Thought I'd grab it before they accidentally delivered it to me."

I rip it open with ease. Inside is a paper with familiar terrible handwriting. I grin ear to ear. Baz looks over my shoulder. "What is it?"

"It's from Jeremy." I scan down the letter. Luckily I'm adept at deciphering kid writing. "He says he misses me but likes his aunt's place a lot. They garden a lot and he's playing football on a community team.:

"All sound great," Penny says, having moved to the shoulder not occupied by Baz.

"Yeah, definitely. Oh, and he's got a new kitten. And guess what he named him?"

"What?" Penny and Baz say at the same time. It's pretty hilarious but I keep myself from laughing to avoid any glares.

"Snow." I hold up a Polaroid picture of a grinning Jeremy holding a small, fluffy white cat. Both of them can't help but make awing noises.

"Adorable," Baz says. "You did a good job with that kid, Snow."

I kiss his cheek. "Thanks, love."

"I want a cat," Penny sighs. Her nose scrunches up. "Am I going to turn into a crazy cat lady?"

"Hey," I say, "you were the one who told me that was a sexist stereotype. So no, you're going to be a very sane, wonderful, brilliant cat lady." I lean closer, whispering in her ear. "And maybe, once you feel better, you can try talking to a certain American. I think he's got a thing for you."

Penny sticks her tongue out, but before she can respond, Shepard comes stumbling in with a box of china. He places it very carefully. I can see him not so subtly watching Penny out of the corner of his eye. I don't think he wants to piss her off again. “Okay, I think that’s all of it. Wow, a lot of books. Reminds me of my Mom's office back in Omaha.”

"So I remind you of your mum?" Penny asks, arms crossed over her chest. Shepard's eyes go wide. I snort into Baz's shoulder

"No! No, definitely not, I just mean...you're both super smart."

Penny scoffs. "Good answer, American. Now let's get all my books unpacked."

I groan loudly. “Come on, Pen, not today. Why don’t we go to mine and Baz’s flat and we’ll make you dinner?”

“You mean I’ll be making dinner.” Baz raises his eyebrow at me. “You can’t cook, Simon.”

“I’ve been learning!”

He sighs over dramatically. “Very well. You can chop the onions.”

“I’ll take it.” I put my arm on Penny’s shoulders. She leans into me like always. “Come on, let’s eat.”

“Can I come?” Shepard asks, beaming wide. Who could say no to that face?

“Of course! You deserve a reward for all your hard work.”

“Awesome!” He dashes up beside Pen, looking all cute. And I can see Penny smiling, just a little. I’m glad to see her happy.

I put Jeremy's letter in my pocket. It's going right on the fridge the second we get to mine and Baz’s new place. Baz takes my hand in his, weaving our fingers together. He smiles, looking at me from the corner of his eye. I feel like I could fly on the power of love alone right now.

God, I truly have an amazing life.

———————————————

Awwww stupidly in love, just how I like it. Tbh I started writing this before Wayward So came out, and after I decided I wanted to deal with their communication issues like in the book but resolve them. I'm not throwing shade, just stating an opinion, plz don't kill me lol. But I do hope you all liked it! I never planned on writing a sequel but sometimes shit works out like that. I do have another idea for a short one shot but don't hold me to that, life is pretty nuts rn and I don't have a lot of free time, hence why this took me so long. Anyway, have a good day/night y'all!

#carry on #wayward son #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #shepard #lamb #established relationship #angst with a happy ending #jealous simon #communication failure #mysnowbazfic

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loki-fanfic-whore · 5 years

Text

Consumed ch. 3

Warnings: self doubt- anger- cussing- adult situations and adult issues.

@drakesfiance @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 @onceuponagleepottermindlock @jessiejunebug

Chapter 3 Redemption

You didn't want sleep to leave you, because when you slept, you dreamed and for the smallest moments, you were anyone else anywhere else on the earth.

Your eyes fluttered open to stare up into the florescent light that seemed to always shine. You didn't know how long you had been submerged, or what time it truly was, but minutes felt like hours. You had been confined to this hell for an eternity already. Your eyes were irritated and raw from crying and being submerged. You had had countless panic attacks and sobbing sessions. Scientists had come multiple times over the course of your time. They injected the tank with this or that trying to see what affected you. Some injections made you tired or content....others hurt. You had become accustom to passing out from depression, sheer exhaustion or their medicines. Your brain warring on with itself as you tried your hardest to control whatever you were. You couldn't conjure your flames within the water though. It stung your skin anytime you tried. You were left utterly alone with your terrifying and self destructive mind. You had went over the few days before you were thrown in here countless times....maybe if you hadn't of let Loki push you...maybe if you hadn't of flirted or challenged him...maybe if you weren't so fucking weak...there were a lot of maybes...a lot of what ifs....but you knew for certain you were going to wither away and become insane in this fucking tank. You had had so long to just think, about the good and bad times, you tore yourself apart over saying the wrongs things or not saying anything when you should have. You slowly found yourself craving his skin and smell. You forced yourself to invision him with you many times and had imaginary conversations with him. Telling him everything you desperately wished for.

Loki gritted his teeth and cloned himself, one staying and reading in his room with a neutral face and unamused demeanor. The the other slunk down the hall under the illusion of Thor.

Three weeks....he had been planning and scheming for three fucking weeks. Gathering the necessary tools to see you. Making it seem like he didn't care. Up until Thor removed his shackles. He waited a full week afterwards simply to lull them into a false sense of safety. You had been thrown in a tank and left to rot for three weeks. His heart was heavy with anger over the entire ordeal.

He descended into the lower levels of the tower where his cell had been and surely where yours would be. He chuckled in Thor's voice as he walked past countless personel tricking them all. He approached the armed guard infront of the only manned cell and smiled.

"I need to see Lady Embers! I wanted to check on her." He spoke as causually as he could without sounding oafish.

"I cannot allow you to sir. Furys orders. No one in. No one out." The guard continued to look forward not making eye contact.

"Wrong answer." Loki purred as he put the guard into a choke hold. Injecting a syringe full of sedative into his throat. He held the struggling man until he went limp. Loki cloned himself again this time illusioned as the guard and drug the body through the door way. He turned and it took all his seidr to keep the illusion of Thor.

"What in hell..." he whispered as he stared at the massive aquarium like tank.

The liquid inside filled it to the very top and it seemed utterly empty, but he was sure you were in there. The water just too hazy for him to see properly. He moved closer to the glass. And gently called out.

"I'm...so sorry." He stood trying to look proud. Trying to play the part, but his voice cracked with hurt.

A small movement in the farthest corner of the tank caught his eye as you unfurled and moved towards him.

His eyes widdened as he saw how frail and gaunt you had become. You were naked-surely you hadn't been on display naked this whole time. Surely they weren't displaying you to the compound like a sick side show act. He took a step closer as you swam to the edge of the glass. Your hair ebbed around your face but your eyes were wide and pleading. You still thought he was Thor. You were pleading to be released. To be shown any kind of mercy. That you were so sorry for anything you did. Any harm you caused. He knew all too well how badly your head was destroying and breaking you down. He knew you'd blame yourself like a beaten child. You had victims guilt. Dark circles enveloped your eyes and your face looked thin. Your sunken cheeks and mouth covered by-.

Loki sank to his knees as he felt bitter tears prickle his eyes. His illusion melting away from a proud Thor to a teary eyed dejected Loki.

"They- they muzzled you." He spoke with a trembling voice. Your eyes closed for a moment processing the shift of persons infront of you. You nodded to him before sinking down to your knees, you raised your shackled hands up to the glass. Your palms pressed flat against it. You wanted so badly to feel him...to be sure it was him and not your mind tricking you. You nodded as a sob escaped your mouthpiece, bubbles gently lifting away, your chest heaving was the only real clue to the sob. Loki let out a sob from his own chest. His was shaking from anger and sorrow. How dare they?! He had destroyed countless cities and tried to take over the world when they shackled him...but you? You had simply lost control and done superficial damage to a building...this was no reason to muzzle you and throw you away.

You smacked the glass to pull him from his mind. He was here now and you needed him to free you.

"Loki!" You cried but, again, nothing but bubbles. Loki's head snapped back up to meet your gaze.

"I didn't know what type of contraption they had you in. Shield keeps many different 'cells'....I-..I'm so sorry...dear gods I'm sorry...they have gagged and bound you like a prisoner. I'll get you free my little flame. I vow this to you." With those words you pressed both hands and your forehead to the glass. You wished so desperately to feel him. Loki moved to the glass and pressed against it in the same way.

"Security Breach in Sector C-3766! Security Breach in Sector C-3766!" Alarms blared as you cringed. The tank was frosting over where Loki had touched it, ice crystals quickly forming. Loki jerked back from the tank and stared down at his Jotun form. The tank had a security measure to keep him from touching it. Of course it did...it triggered his Jotun form freezing her in.

You whimpered as the crystals continued to form. The water quickly freezing towards you. You would freeze to death!

"Brother no!" Thor roared as he tackled Loki. You swam forward smacking at the icy glass hissing in pain as you watched Loki and Thor fight. Loki dodged and countered Thor. Thor swung at Loki. Screams and grunts mixed with the alarms blaring and you grasped your head as a searing pain was beginning to take over. You opened your eyes with horror as you watched shackles encircle Loki's wrists pulling his arms tight behind him. You watched as Thor shoved a muzzle into his mouth. He was on his knees with a bloody nose and cut forehead. His eyes facing down. Thor stood heaving angrily he had a busted lip and black eye.

You screamed into the mouthpiece slamming your hands against the glass. You could see the black webbing up your arms. Your fingertips looked frost bitten.

"Yes...that's it...let the rage consume you." You could hear his voice and you steadied your breathing as you bit into the mouthpiece hard.

'Who are you?!' You screamed back angrily. Your body began to tremble as heat radiated off you melting the ice in the tank. You felt the burning within and pushed it harder. You needed out. Now!

Thor and Loki looked up at the tank as your skin became consumed in ink the hazy blue water turning pitch black around you, hiding you within the massive tank. Thor slammed his hand onto a button on the wall calling for more help. The alarms blaring.

"Breach Sector C! Breach Sector C!" The voice continued to speak overhead.

The pitch black fluid began to bubble until. Bubbling led to boiling, steam filling the room as the avengers filed in suited up.

"What-what is she doing?" Bruce asked as he squinted to see through the black liquid.

"She-she is flash boiling the tank!" Tony watched in fascinating horror.

Loki smiled into his bit as he watched a spider crack appear in the wall of the aquarium.

That's it my little flame. Let it flow through you.

The tank shattered as black water rushed from it knocking Natasha and Bruce off balance and whisking several guards out of the room.

There you stood, surrounded by shards of glass, and very angry. You were still naked shackled and muzzled, and your entire body was ebony black. Your hair dripping with ink. The steam rolled off your naked body as you glared with your solid black orbs. You raised your arms until the shackles were taught keeping eye contact with them you jerked the metal shackles up shattering them. The team stood silently waiting and calculating your moves, but as angry and hurt as you were, you were in control now. Your hands, with cuffs and a few links dangling from your wrists, moved to the clasp on the mouthpiece. It clicked and slid from your jaws, leaving gaping gashes in your cheeks that dripped blood down your ebony flesh. The contrast startling between the crimson and black. You held the muzzle in your hands as it melted into a pool of molten metal at your feet.

The team stood ready against you with Loki still on his knees.

You took a step forward towards them only to have Thor and Tony stance towards you threateningly. You filter your head and stood tall.

"Let him go." You commanded as you stood your ground, you were hurting so badly, but you needed to be tall and strong.

"I cannot do that Sister ember.I-"

"My name is not EMBER! I am the dottir of Surtur! The god of flame! And rightful heir of Mulspelheim. You destroyed my world and my father! You tricked me! And locked me away for being a monster that you know I am not!" You found your voice booming. Black liquid began to drip from your skin as fire erupted over your hands. Bright red cracks formed across your ebony skin as drips of flame splattered the ground.

Tony gritted his teeth as Thor sighed.

"All we wanted was what was best for you." He added dejectedly.

"What is best for me is to get away from you-you monsters." You snarled at them.

Thor stood Loki up and unmuzzled him. Loki grinned towards you as you continued to glare at them. You could feel the proudness radiate off his body.

"Unshackle him. We will leave this damned realm. Clearly we are not welcomed here." You spoke angrily as Loki was released and pushed towards you. He immediately shed his top and let his Jotun form take hold. He gripped you tightly to his chest, one hand in your soaked hair the other around your waist crushing you to him. He could feel your heat and how it burned his skin but he didn't care. He had you.

Loki teleported you two far away onto the other side of the realm into a small cottage in a country called 'Wales'. It wasn't until you were sure you were no longer infront of them did you collapse against him. Your body weak from muscle atrophy.

"My little flame. My darling pet...dear gods it feels so good to have you in my arms again." Loki cooed as he picked you up and took you into the bathroom. He started a hot shower and stood under the water letting you warm up and wash. Your skin began to revert to its creamy color once again as your black orbs disappeared into the normal beauty they were originally. Loki took his time and gently washed and rubbed every inch of your skin. He washed your hair then turned the water off and wrapped you in large fluffy towels.

"I-I thought I would never see you a-again." You whimpered out feeling how sore your jaw was and how raw the gashes in your cheeks were from your mouth piece.

"They told me to forget you....I could never forget you....I wouldnt... " he spoke softly.

He laid you down on the bed in the only bedroom, then turned to leave.

"Loki- please..." you whimpered. He stopped in the doorway.

"I have been without you for too long and I fear...my mind is tricking me and I shall wake from this dream soon....please...just stay with me." A small grin plastered on his face. He sat on the bed and laid back next to you, allowing you your space.

"I need to get you back up to par little flame....then we can go to any realm you'd like." You reached out and gently intertwined your hand in his. Breathing through your nose was such a strange sensation now. Slowly you drifted off to blissful sleep as Loki held your hand and watched over you.

"Where the fuck did they go?!" Fury roared into the clusterfuck of a room.

"They teleported...no clue where." Tony spoke nonchalantly.

"Listen here Tony. I'm only gonna say this once. With her being a fire giant and Loki being an Ice giant they can destroy anything in their way. He will use her to take over the damn planet! Find Her!" He turned and huffed off. Tony looked to Thor as Natasha looked to Bruce and Clint.

"Surely my brother would not use her....she is so like him that he must be attracted." He rubbed his chin.

"Uhh...no offense Thor but Loki is kind of a sociopath...he would use anything or anyone to get what he wants." Bruce chimed in.

"If that is the case...I fear for her...he could twist and manipulate her...if she truly is the dottir of Surtur, she has a storm within herself." Thor nodded and stared at the destruction around them. They needed to find them and get Loki away from you.

#loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #im sorry #loki #loki odinson #slow burn #but i hate everything i write #shitty grammar

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tayegi · 6 years

Text

Revenge is a Dish Best Served... Hot? (m)

When your roommate keeps you up late at night with her noisy rendezvous with male overnight guests, you and Seokjin team up to plot your revenge... How? With a taste of her own medicine, of course.

Dedicated to my roommate :”) ily, but please let me sleep....

Warning: Seokjin smut

Word Count: 17,051

*********************************************************************************

Your heart stops in your chest when you walk in through the door of your apartment after a long day at lab—to find your roommate snuggling with a strange man you’ve never seen before on the couch. They look up at the sight of you and casually hold up their hands in greeting, but your roommate doesn’t even bother to move from where she’s practically lying in the stranger’s lap.

“You’re back from lab late,” Lei calls out to you.

You cautiously set your bag on the counter and think through your words before responding, “Yes… and I have to wake up tomorrow at six in the morning to set up an experiment.”

“Aw, you poor thing,” she offhandedly comments before turning back to her new male companion.

You remain standing in the foyer for a few moments, staring at the way she snuggles back into his embrace without a second thought. But neither of them notice your heated glare, and you have no choice but to moodily march into your bedroom… the one located directly next to the living room in which they currently occupy… with the very couch they sit on pressed against the wall of your room, your bed mere concrete inches from their canoodling… Luckily they aren’t having sex this time.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Normally, you are completely cool with your roommate having visitors over. Boyfriends, dates, one-night stands, whatever. You’ve had your fair share of hookups in the past, and it’s not your right to judge… when these hookups take place in the privacy of one’s own bedroom, that is. But your roommate has this strange preference for canoodling in your shared spaces…

And with only a thin wall to separate you from them, you can hear them as clearly as if they were standing right before you. You groan as you hastily change for bed and dive for your earplugs. But of course, it’s useless. You can still hear the high-pitched squeal of your roommate’s giggles through the spongey material. And with each passing second, the anger in the pit of your stomach heats until it reaches its boiling point.

Jin!!! You angrily text your best friend, in lieu of stomping out in the living room and giving the inconsiderate couple a piece of your mind like you’d really like to, She’s doing it again!!!!

Like always, it only takes him a minute to respond, Lei?

Yah. Who else? Ugh, im going fucking crazy!!!

What guy is it this time? The one who grunts like a pig during sex or the one who asked to borrow a pair of your socks?

Neither! It’s a new guy :(

Just tell them to shut the fuck up.

Akljslkfjsdkflsk

Srsly, ___. Just do it.

>.< ur no help! Forget it.

Want me to come over and do it for u?

N.O. trust me, Jin, that’s the last thing id ever want.

Y? bc u cant stand to see me saving ur ass again?

No, bc ud only make things worse w/ that scary face of yours.

Not my fault ur blind and cant appreciate beauty.

U look like a mean alpaca

Wut??? Y u lyin? Bitch, im beautiful and u know it!

Whatever. ur no help. Now ill just suffer through the rest of the night listening to their gross scream laughing.

Wanna sleep over instead?

Nah, u live super far away. Just forget it. Maybe I can try to shove two pairs of earplugs in D:

U need 2 just grow a pair and deal with this problem instead of avoiding it.

Asjdflklsdfk maybe one day…

Aite, coward. But don’t turn to me crying.

… why are we even friends again?

Bc no one else likes you.

Jin, r u saying u like me…?;)

No. I tolerate u. plz don’t go putting words in my mouth.

Ya ya whatever. love u too, baby <3

Istg if u call me that one more time…

Goodnight, baby �� 😘 😘

…goodnight

You smile fondly at that last message. Why is Kim Seokjin such a tsundere? Pretending that he doesn’t care for you, when you know that he probably sees you as a little sister to him. But he’s not Jin if he’s not cold and aloof. Shaking your head in amusement, you place your phone down and lie down on the bed with a smile on your face.

You’re not sure what higher power allowed you to befriend someone like Kim Seokjin years ago in college, but you thank that unknown deity on a regular basis. You don’t know how you’d survive the stress of grad school without Jin’s snarky, dramatic, mostly unwarranted comments every day. Just thinking of your best friend is relaxing enough to put you to sleep and within minutes, you feel your exhausted mind drifting off… Until—

“HEHEHEHEHE, you’re so funny!”

Lei’s high-pitched giggling instantly slams you back into full consciousness. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling in defeat, before flopping over to muffle a scream in your pillow. Fuck your life…

*********************************************************************************

“What are you still doing?” Jin groans as he watches you type furiously at your kitchen table.

“Sorry, I just need a few more minutes,” you say as you hastily type another line of code.

“I thought you wanted to grab food!” he exclaims, “Why are you like this?”

“Shh,” you shush him, “Go stare at your reflection in the back of my laptop and shut up.”

Jin sighs dramatically, “I think it’s very irresponsible for a full grown adult woman like yourself to demand that someone drives her to lunch, only to stand them up.”

“Relax, I’m not standing you up,” you mumble as you hastily delete your line of code and reconsider it, “I just need another second to rerun these analyses… And no one told you to pick me up! I could’ve just taken the subway.”

“And get mugged again?” he snorts, “Like I’m going to let that happen. I can’t deal with that again.”

You shoot him a wry glare, “Not everyone can drive around in their fancy little cars, Mr. Rich Kid.”

“Psht. You’re the one who chose to be a broke ass grad student. Who would willingly want to be a student for another four years?!”

“Six years,” you quietly correct him.

“Six years?! Okay, that settles it. You’re officially insane.”

“At least I enjoy it! You’re the one who sold your soul to the corporate overlords and have to suffer through that boring financial… wait what do you do again?”

“How do you know nothing about me?! Investment—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you come take a look at my analyses?”

“Oh my god… I knew there was a reason you wanted me over,” Jin says with a good-natured sigh as he scoots over to peer at your laptop screen, “Your silly overeducated mind can’t handle a bit of math.”

You scowl at him as you show him the output of your analyses, “Just tell me if this is right or not…”

“What’s the magic word?” he chimes in a singsong voice.

“Sweet cheeks?” you offer.

He immediately scowls, “Forget it. Do your own damn analyses.”

“I didn’t mean that!” You exclaim, clinging onto his sleeve before he can walk away, “I’m sorry, dearest Jin! You are as rich in intelligence as you are in beauty! Please bless me with that sexy brain of yours!”

His lips twitch at your exaggerated words, but to your relief, he concedes, “Fine,” he sighs dramatically, “But only because you asked so nicely.”

You feel the urge to retort back, but you stifle it down in order to show him your output screen, “Please look this over and let me know where I fucked up…”

“What a noble man I am, helping you with the most basic math,” he’s as dramatic as always as he pulls your laptop towards him.

“Yes, my savior!” you pretend to swoon.

Jin actually cracks a smile at that, and opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment, two bodies come crashing in through the front door. Your gut twists in annoyance when you identify the intertwined bodies as Lei and her new man aggressively making out in the doorway.

At least they have the decency to briefly separate when they realize that there is company in the apartment, “Oh, hey guys,” Lei greets the two of you.

Both of you hesitantly wave back. Normally, she would spend longer chatting with the two of you (or flirting with Jin, more like), but this time, she is too engrossed with her new friend. As soon as she finishes greeting you, she reattaches her lips to her male companion’s, and they messily stumble onto the couch to make out more.

You stare at them with a disgusted look on your face, before you quickly catch yourself and politely clear your throat, “So, Jin, what do you think about my analyses?” He doesn’t respond, so you poke him after a second, “Jin?”

“Sorry, what?” he says, forcibly tearing himself from the stomach-turning spectacle, “I can’t concentrate when I’m literally on the verge of vomiting.”

You quickly shush him, horrified that your new guests on the couch might hear his offensive words, “Don’t be like this! It’s a beautiful and natural part of life!”

He ignores you, “Is this the shit you have to deal with on a daily basis?” Jin asks you in horror.

You wince, “Pretty much…”

“Damn… Ok, I’m gonna go beat them both up for you. This is unacceptable.”

“No!” you hurriedly grab his hand before he can follow through on his threat, “Come on, let’s just leave. Aren’t you hungry?”

“___, you seriously can’t keep running away from confrontation!”

“I know, but—ugh!” Frustrated, you shut your laptop and tighten your grip on his hand to forcibly drag him out of the apartment, “Lei, I’m leaving!” You call out before you step outside, but of course, she doesn’t even notice.

As soon as you shut the front door behind you, you whirl around in the hallway to face Jin, “I know that this is gross and really inconsiderate, but what can I do?”

“Just tell her to fucking stop,” he says, his solution as simple and blunt as always.

“I wish I could! But you know that her mother’s the landowner of this apartment complex. I’m paying barely half the rent of what a nice two-bedroom apartment like this downtown should go for! I can’t afford to piss her off!”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jin growls, “You can’t just let her get away with everything she wants because she can hold this over your head. Move out. Hell, if you need somewhere to stay, you can crash with me.”

“Ugh, it’s really not that simple. That’s not a permanent solution.”

“Neither is just letting her get away with this without any consequences for the rest of your life.”

“Yeah, I know… I just need to think of a better approach…”

“Fine. If you won’t talk to her, then get back at her.”

That makes you pause, “Wait… what?”

“Two can play that game,” he explains, “How is it fair that she can be so inconsiderate and rude fooling around with guys in your shared living space? So you should do it too. And she’d be a complete hypocrite if she found fault in it.”

“I…” you blink as you try to think it through, “Wait… that’s not such a bad idea, actually…”

“Of course it isn’t,” he says at once, “I’m a genius, after all.”

“No, you’re really stupid,” you absentmindedly inform him as you mull over his suggestion, “Wait… no, I think this actually could work, Jin! Wow, I just need to find a man to fool around with in front of her! This is exciting!” You exclaim, beaming at this point.

“Yes, exactly. Give her a taste of her own medicine. She probably lacks the basic empathy to understand how gross this is. So you need to let her know how it feels.”

“Ok,” you grin, “I think I will, thanks Jin! I’ll call Jung Hoseok tonight and ask if he wants to come over.”

“Wait—Jung Hoseok?” Jin asks with a wrinkle of his nose, “Are you really going to go down that route again?”

“Sure, why not? I mean, he’s the ultimate fuckboi, and I would never date him, but that’s not what I want from him tonight, now is it? And I think Hobi would always be down for a hookup with no strings attached.”

Still, Jin clicks his tongue in disapproval, “That seems excessive and rather dangerous for this ploy, ___.”

“Dangerous?” You repeat in surprise, “How so?”

But he only ignores you, “Why do you actually have to hook up with someone for real? Why can’t you just fake it?”

Your brow furrows in confusion, “Fake it? How would I fake it on my own? Do you want me to pretend to masturbate or something, you pervert?!”

He cringes at the very thought, “No way, you nasty. I was just saying that I’ll help you act it out in front of her.”

“You? Really? Why would you do something like that?” you ask, shocked by the very thought.

He shrugs, “Why not? It’ll be fun. You know I’d love nothing more than to get back at that gross, overly touchy roommate of yours.”

You pull a face of sympathy when you remember all the unwarranted flirting and excessive skinship Lei had subjected Jin to over the years you’ve lived with her. “But she knows we’re friends. She’ll never believe that we’re hooking up.”

“Why not? I’m hot. Of course you’d want to fuck me.”

You glare at him, but don’t have the energy to discipline him for once, “But why would you want to fuck me? That’s the unbelievable part!”

“Why not?” he says in a flippant tone, “I’m hot and horny, you’ve got tits, we’ve been friends for years, and things just fell together. Boom, done. Now let’s go get omelets.”

“Seokjin, they’ve long stopped serving breakfast.”

“Damn it, woman!” he exclaims, “I told you to hurry up!”

You can’t help but grin at that, “Guess we’re just going to have to eat fried chicken again!”

He shoots you a glare, “Again?”

You beam back, “Yup!”

*********************************************************************************

“Ok, she’s supposed to come back from the grocery store any minute now,” you hiss at Jin that next weekend, when you finally find the time to put your plan into action.

“Alright, what should I do?” he asks as he flops down on the couch next to you.

“Hmm… I’m not sure,” you say as you awkwardly swing your legs over his.

He easily lifts your legs and drags them over his lap, “Should I take off my shirt?” he asks, fingers already fidgeting with the top button.

“No!” You exclaim, sitting up to grab his hands, “What’s wrong with you?!”

“Oh please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “You know you want to see it.”

“No, I don’t,” you snap back, and for good measure, you pull up the front of his shirt to cover him up to the neck, “Keep that nasty shit to yourself.”

“How is she ever going to believe that we’re fucking?” he sighs.

You pull your legs off of his lap, “I knew I should’ve just called Hoseok,” you groan.

“No, we can make this work,” he says, suddenly leaning down to lay on top of you, hands pressed into the cushions on either side of your face to keep from crushing you, “Isn’t this better?”

But you flush at his close proximity. Whenever you think that you’ve finally gotten used to his impossibly handsome face, he proves you wrong. And lying on top of you like this, with his face inches away from yours… You can see every detail of his face from the sharp angles of his jaw, to the intensity of his dark gaze, and the fullness of his pink lips. Flustered, you squeeze your eyes shut, and blindly fumble out of his grip.

“No, it’s not!” You exclaim as you shove him off of you.

He looks at you, surprised by your dramatic reaction, “What’s wrong with you?”

“N-nothing! I just… I want to be on top instead!” You practically shout as you push him on his back.

Confused, Jin nevertheless complies, “Alright, fine. Whatever floats your boat, you crazy woman.”

You sigh deeply. He’s a lot less threatening now that he’s on his back with his lips far away from yours, and you find yourself finally able to relax. Until you realize that you need to climb onto his body. “I just don’t want Lei to get the wrong impression,” you mutter as you awkwardly shuffle around on the couch, looking for the best position, “Can’t let her think that you’re the one in charge here.”

Jin snorts, but nevertheless crosses his arms behind his head and watches you make your approach under half-lidded eyes, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe. Now climb on up.”

Your face nearly explodes with heat from his casual use of the pet name. “You’re so annoying,” you grumble under your breath as you swing a leg over his waist. But it feels ten times more awkward to straddle him, and you quickly scramble up to hover above his stomach instead, avoiding his crotch like the plague. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence. Then—

“Is this normally how you hook up with guys, ___?” Jin asks as he cranes up his head to try to look at you.

You scowl down at him, “Are you questioning my methods?”

“Yup. Stop being so damn awkward and sit down on me already.”

You flush at his word choice, “J-Jin, I—”

But he grows impatient with your hesitance and takes it upon himself to grab you by the hips and yank you down on him so that you straddle him around the hips, making you sit directly on his—

“Jin!” You yell out in indignation, your face as hot as a furnace at this point as you grab at his vast shoulders for balance.

That smug bastard is as unfazed as always, “What?” he says with a cock of an eyebrow.

You tighten your grip on his shoulders, “Nothing,” you spit out, “You’re just really… skinny,” you say, dragging your nails down his torso as a punishment.

He snorts in response and grabs your hands to flatten against his chest, “Does it feel like I’m just skinny?” he says as he forces you to feel the hardness of his pecs.

“Yes,” you growl, “You bony ass bitch.”

His face scrunches into a scowl and he opens his mouth to offer you an undoubtedly biting retort, but at the moment, the front door swings open.

“Hey, ___, I’m back. How are—AH! What is that?” Lei squeals when she realizes that you’re lying on top of a man, “Wait, is that Kim Seokjin?!”

Your best friend awkwardly pops his head out, “Hi.”

“Oh my fucking god… Are you guys hooking up?!”

“…Uh…Yes?”

Jin winces at your robotic answer and tries to make up for it by smoothing a hand up your thigh, making you jump in surprise, “It’s been like a year now,” he informs her, “Where have you been?”

Lei just shakes her head as she puts down her grocery bags on the ground, “I should’ve known. You guys were always too close to just be friends.”

But that comment makes you frown, “What do you mean by that?”

Jin slaps a hand over your mouth, effectively shutting you up before you can question her further, “Just shut up while we’re still ahead,” he growls into your ear, “And fool around with me.”

“What are you talking about?!” you hiss back, alarmed.

Instead of responding, he splays a large hand across your lower back and shoves you flush against him. It takes everything in your power to keep from squealing out in surprise, but when Jin unexpectedly bites down on your earlobe, you can’t help the squeak from bursting out.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” he whispers in your ear, “Can’t you moan like a normal person?”

“I-I’m sorry? I just wasn’t expecting—eep!” you squeal again when he presses a kiss to the sensitive skin under your chin.

He pulls back with a sigh, “Why are you acting like this? You’re the one who wanted to cause a scene, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, but I—” You stop there, embarrassed. How can you explain that you were expecting to just roll around, faking it? How naïve could you be?

Jin sighs again, “Fine, you can suck on my neck instead,” he says, craning his head upward to allow you access.

You pause at that, gazing down at the sight before you with wide eyes. Here is the most attractive man you have ever seen in your entire life, laid out before you like a seven-course meal, just waiting for you to have a taste. Your mouth waters, and if not for your crippling embarrassment, you might have dived right in to eat him whole. But this is your best friend… your platonic best friend who has never seen you as a woman. He’s just doing this as a favor to you, and you won’t allow yourself take advantage of the situation and enjoy this too much…

Easier said than done.

The moment you lean your face down, his masculine scent overwhelms you, making you lightheaded at once. You silently say a prayer in your mind, then lean down to press your lips against his neck. It’s a dry kiss—just a peck of your lips to his skin, but it still makes shivers slide down your back. How many times have you imagined touching him like this? Back in the budding years of your friendship during college, this was all you could think about. It would drive you insane, fighting back your urges to touch him, and staying awake at night stewing over your jealousies of his new fling of the week. It can’t be healthy opening this door again, when you’ve been doing so well keeping non-platonic thoughts of your friend out of your mind for so long… But how can you resist?

When Jin makes no sound of protest, you grow bolder, greedily parting your lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you flick your tongue over his pulse point. There’s a beat of silence, where you realize what you’ve done and crippling embarrassment fills you. You’re just about to sit up and beg for forgiveness, when Jin does something very unexpected. He weaves a hand through your hair and pushes your head closer.

“Jin,” you whisper against his neck, shocked by the action.

He simply hums in response, “Keep going.”

Your heart is fluttering like a little bird in its cage as you silently obey. As though intoxicated, you can’t help but plant a series of open-mouthed kisses across the expanse of his neck, admiring the way his muscles flex as he twists his head to allow you room. But when you graze your teeth across a prominent vein, he suddenly groans.

“Do that again.”

The low, rumbly quality of his voice makes shivers wrack your body as you jump to do as he says. You gently sink your teeth into a patch of skin under his ear and soothe over the bite marks with your tongue until he groans again. You know that the sounds are probably for show—to feign pleasure to your snooping roommate, but you can’t help the way they send heat straight to your core.

Another few seconds of this, and Jin begins to shift from underneath you, presumably from discomfort. Instantly feeling guilty for sitting on him so heavily, you spring up to relieve him of your weight. But you’re a bit fuzzy with arousal and miscalculate your movements, unintentionally sliding down on him further… until your thigh rams into a strange hardness in the left leg of his jeans… wait could that be—?

“Ugh, how long are you two going to continue doing that?!” Lei’s shrill voice breaks you from your reverie.

You spring away from Jin as though burned, “Wh-what?” your voice is trembling, but you can’t help it.

Lei glowers at you from across the room, “I am trying to make dinner here.”

As though completely unperturbed by what had just occurred on the couch, Jin smoothly answers for you, “What’s wrong, Lei?” he asks with a perfectly arched brow, “Does this bother you?”

She glares back, “Not at all,” she spits through gritted teeth. “You know what? I’ll just eat out.” And with that, she snatches her purse off the counter and marches out the door.

You flinch as the door slams after her. Then you turn to stare at Jin with wide eyes, “Oh my god… I can’t believe that actually worked.”

He chuckles, “I told you it would, didn’t I?”

You laugh along with him, even as you peel yourself off his body and slide to the floor, “Thanks, Jin. She actually believed it! Now she’ll think before hooking up with a guy in our common space again!”

“Great. Just let me know if you need my help again,” he says as he rises to his feet.

“Wait, are you going somewhere?” you ask in confusion as you watch him pick up his phone from the coffee table and slip it into his pocket.

“Yeah, I have work in the morning. I should go home and prepare.”

“But I thought we were going to get dinner after this?”

“Next time,” he says as he makes his way to the door.

You’re a bit stung by his cold rejection. He doesn’t even have the decency to look at you as he blows off your dinner plans. Normally, you’d scold him for this kind of behavior, but this time, you’re a bit relieved that he’s leaving after such an awkward encounter.

“Ok. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah. See you later,” and without a second glance, he walks straight out of your apartment.

As soon as the door closes behind him, you collapse into an undignified pile on the ground, groaning weakly and clutching at your still pounding heart. What the hell had happened back there?!

*********************************************************************************

Unfortunately, it becomes apparent over the next week that your ploy with Jin did not work at all. Lei brings home a new guy less than three days after your romp on the couch, and to your utmost dismay, they go at it all night long. You’re basically a walking zombie the next day at school, horrifying your lab mates by the way you hog the French press throughout the entire day.

By the time you finally leave lab that evening, you’d like nothing more than to just faceplant in bed hibernate for about a decade. You trudge into your apartment complex, let yourself in through the front door, and nearly jump out of your skin in surprise at the sight of Kim Seokjin chilling on the couch.

“AHH! You scared me!” You exclaim, clutching your heart in fear, “How did you get in here?!”

“Your doorman recognized me and let me in the building,” Jin informs you, completely unfazed by your dramatic reaction.

“Oh… that makes sense… Wait, no! How did you get into my apartment?!”

“I have a spare key.”

“Oh…” You say, blinking at the realization. Then—“Wait, what?! How do you have a spare key?!”

“Your mom gave me one.”

“She did what?!”

“Shh. Keep your voice down. You’re so noisy,” he says with a wince. “I wouldn’t have had to barge in here if you would just pick up your phone… Why are you so late?”

“Late for what? …Oh shit. We were supposed to have dinner tonight, weren’t we?!” Wide-eyed, you dive for your phone, and sure enough, there are three missed calls, all from Jin. “I’m sorry, I don’t have service on the subway.”

He scoffs, “I could’ve just picked you up from lab.”

You hastily shake your head at the very thought of it, “Seriously, it’s not a big deal…”

“Fine… what do you want to eat?”

You hesitate, “Jin… it’s always nice to eat out with you… but maybe it’d be nicer to get take out?”

He squints at you in suspicion, “What’s up with you?”

Damn! How did he see through you so quickly? You widen your eyes, trying to play innocent, “Nothing! I just… wouldn’t this be more convenient?”

Still, he scrutinizes you from head to toe with those sharp eyes of his, “Why are you saying this? And why do you look so terrible? Do you have manuscript deadlines again?”

“No, that’s not it,” you quickly say, not wanting to worry him.

“Midterms? Bad meeting with your advisor?”

“No, no. None of those. Seriously, don’t worry. I just didn’t sleep well last night and I’m kinda tired.”

He leans forward so far that his nose nearly brushes you, making you instinctively jump back in surprise, “It’s Lei again, isn’t it?”

You freeze at that, like a deer caught in the headlights, “N-no?”

But he sees through you like you’re transparent, “Ugh, so our scheme didn’t work?”

You awkwardly drop your eyes to your feet as vivid memories of what had transpired between the two of you in this very room come flashing back, “No, I don’t think so… But hey at least we tried, right?”

You don’t have to look up to know that he’s boiling with anger, “Hell no!” he curses, “Are you seriously going to let that asshole get away with it? No, we’re just going to have to think bigger!” He dramatically declares.

“Jin…”

“Trust me, ___we’ll make her regret messing around with you like this.”

“Ok…” you warily agree, “If you say so…” but you can’t shake the excitement that bubbles in your chest at the thought of what he has in store for you.

*********************************************************************************

The next day, you find yourself propped up on the kitchen counter with Jin standing between your legs.

“When is Lei coming home?” he asks as he casually rubs his large hands over your thighs.

But you’re too distracted by the feeling of his warm palms on your bare skin that you can’t think, let alone respond. Why did you choose to wear shorts today, of all days…?

“___?” he says your name in confusion when you take too long to respond.

You jerk your head up in surprise, “Y-yes?”

He frowns at your strange behavior, “Your roommate… Lei. When is she coming back?”

“I… um…” you blink hazily at him, too mesmerized by the beauty of his perfectly symmetrical features up close to process his words, “What?”

He raises an eyebrow, and tries to ask the question for the third time, when there’s the sound of a key in the lock. “Hurry and kiss me.”

“W-what?!”

But at that moment, he reaches forward to cup your face in both hands and presses his lips against yours. The door slides open, and Lei curses at what she finds in the kitchen, but you barely notice. You’re too fully engrossed in the heady sensation of Jin’s silken lips sliding against your own.

“Hi guys, I’m home!” Lei practically yells to catch your attention.

Jin pecks your lips one more time before he pulls away to flash her a displeased look over his shoulder, “Hey.” And with that, he leans in to kiss you again.

Normally, you’d be embarrassed by this public display of affection, especially with your best friend of the last half-decade. But you can’t process anything other than the fact that the most beautiful man on planet earth is kissing you… finally. Never in a million years would you have ever predicted such a thing.

“What are you doing?” Jin whispers to you between long, languid kisses, “Kiss me back.”

That makes you realize that you’ve been completely still this whole time, unable to move one inch from fear as you passively accept his kisses. Tentatively, you begin to move your lips against his, but as soon as you reciprocate, Jin suddenly freezes. For a moment, you’re terrified that you’ve offended him somehow. Are you a terrible kisser? Do you disgust him?

But less than half a second passes before he emits a sound from the back of his throat that sounds suspiciously like a moan, then deepens the kiss. Surprised by the action, your hand instinctively flattens against his chest, but you’re unsure if this is to push him back or urge him closer. Jin interprets it as the latter and steps forward until he’s flush against you, forcing you to feel the hard lines of his body.

You must be possessed. There’s no other way to explain it. Why else would you take it upon yourself to explore the firmness of his torso with interest? It is completely unlike you to boldly slip your hands under his thin t-shirt and grope at the tight muscles of his stomach like a fucking pervert.

To make matters worse, Jin doesn’t provide an ounce of resistance as he eagerly arches into your touch and slides his hand from your face to grab at your hips instead. Then, he suddenly grabs at your thighs, forcing them to lock around his waist. And that’s when you feel it again. The strange hardness in his jeans that you felt a week ago during that incident on the couch. And there is no fucking way of mistaking it this time: Kim Seokjin is aroused. He has a fucking boner that you caused. What the fuck is happening?!

At that realization, heady arousal slams into you with the force of a sledgehammer. All you can think about is grinding against his erection. You want to touch him, kiss him, feel him all over. But most of all, you just want to make him feel good. It’s more than a desire at this point, but a raw need. At this point, you are so drunk off the sensations of his hard body pressed against yours and his sinful tongue sliding down your throat that you almost do something very stupid. Your hands dart to his belt, tingling with the need to touch him—

But the hard slam of a door makes you break away from him with a little yelp.

“You guys are fucking disgusting,” Lei mutters under her breath as she escapes to her bedroom.

There’s a brief moment of disoriented tension between you and Jin where all that can be heard in the kitchen is your heavy pants. But then he steps away from you, leaving you cold from the lack of contact.

“Jin…” you whisper in a small voice, “Wh-what was that?”

Despite his harsh breathing, your best friend seems relatively unaffected by what had just transpired between the two of you. He nonchalantly shrugs, “What do you mean?”

You stare at him for a moment, but the sight of his flustered appearance, with his full lips swollen by your kisses and his cheeks tinged a rosy shade of pink, only makes the voracious desire in the pit of your stomach flare with need. You tear your eyes away, “I… I don’t know. I think… I think we may have taken that too far.”

“Whatever. It worked, right?” his tone is unexpectedly cold as he responds.

You glance up in surprise before lowering your gaze again, “Yeah… but what just happened… um… should we talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” he snaps, “We took it too far, right? We’re just friends, right?”

“Right…” you hesitantly reply, wondering what you’ve said to piss him off so much, “Just friends… nothing else… It’s not like we’re attracted to each other or anything crazy like that…” you say, praying that he’ll object to that obvious lie. The burning erection in his pants is undeniable proof otherwise.

He snorts, making you look up in hopeful surprise, “Don’t you even try lying to my face.”

“…Jin?”

“There’s no way you’re not attracted to me, so don’t even try with that bullshit.”

That was not what you were expecting at all. Angered by his arrogance, you flash him the deadliest glare that you can muster, “You’re so full of yourself, Kim Seokjin. Do you really think that every girl in this universe wants to hop on that dick?”

“Of course not,” he smoothly says, “but you clearly do.”

“How is your head so fucking big?” you snap, horrified by how spot-on he is with that assessment. “And look who’s talking: you were hard as a rock, asshole.”

Jin’s eyes pop open, as though shocked that you’ve noticed. “Yeah, so what?” he spits back, even as he awkwardly hovers both hands over his crotch area, “I’m human, of course I’m gonna pop a boner if someone’s fondling me in such a perverse way! Don’t think you’re special.”

Your face heats at the insult, “Really? So you weren’t attracted to me at all? You would’ve just popped a boner for anyone?”

“Yeah, exactly,” he says with a glare, “It’s just like masturbating, isn’t it? Being touched feels good.”

“Great,” you growl, “Well you can go take care of that yourself, dickface.”

“Or you could do it for me.”

That makes you stop in your tracks, “Wh-what?”

He rolls his eyes at your dramatic response, “Don’t get any ideas in that simple little mind of yours. It’ll just feel a bit better than my own hand.”

Anger flares in your chest from his condescending tone, and before you know what you’re doing, you’ve reached over to grab him roughly through the pants. “Does this feel just a bit better than your own hand?” you mock him as you massage his erection with both hands.

Jin licks his swollen bottom lip before shooting you a glare relatively devoid of any real anger, “Barely.”

Your eyes flash, and then you’re reaching into his pants to grab his bare cock. This time, Jin can’t help his instinctive reaction to your touch, doubling over as though he’d been punched, “___!”

You ignore him to squeeze what you can of his length in the restrictive confines of his pants. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

His eyes dart to yours, “Don’t you fucking dare do that or I swear to god, ___.”

You resist a shiver at the sound of his uncharacteristically deep voice that’s dropped an entire octave with arousal. Drunk on his reactions, you would happily obey, but a new thought pops in your mind about how the two of you aren’t alone. You pause and try to remove your hand from inside his pants, but Jin quickly grabs your wrist, fearful that you might leave him hanging, “Lei could come out and see us,” you remind him in a hushed voice.

He relaxes slightly at that, “Then we’ll go into your room,” And without waiting for a response, he drags you in that direction.

He practically bursts into your bedroom and kicks the door shut behind him. You blush at the sight of your messy, unmade bed, but Jin gives zero fucks as he eagerly sprawls across your sheets and yanks at his belt. As you watch him, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. This is your best friend of half a decade. If you cross this line, you might as well be flushing years of friendship down the toilet. What are you doing right now?

But at that moment, Jin finally gets his belt undone and yanks down his pants and boxers without a second thought, his hard dick instantly bouncing up to slap against his stomach. As soon as your eyes land on his throbbing length, you’re done for. All thoughts about the ethics of this situation drop from your mind as you crawl onto the bed after him, eyes fixated on his bare cock and practically salivating at the sight.

Jin watches you from under hooded lids, seemingly nonchalant as he lays back against your headboards, hands propped behind his head, but when you grab him in your warm hand again, his entire body spasms.

You can’t get over the feeling of him in your hand, so hard and big, yet velvety-soft to the touch. And the way he keeps twitching, as though trying to jump closer to the heat of your hand, is intoxicating.

You gently squeeze him from base to tip, marveling when copious amounts of precum slide down his cock from your action. It slickens your movements, allowing you to give him longer, harder strokes with each passing second.

After a minute or so, Jin suddenly crashes his head back against the wall with a loud groan of frustration. Startled, you look up at him, and nearly jump out of your skin in surprise to find him already staring down at you, his gaze so heated that you feel almost painfully hot in your own skin.

“Jin…” you whisper his name, cringing at the dry, broken quality of your voice. You lick your lips for moisture, ignoring the way his eyes lock on the gesture, and try again, “Jin, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he says, but the word comes out as a strangled groan, “Fuck.”

No matter what bullshit he tries to tell you, you know that he likes this. He likes this a lot, if the way he shivers and pants, his hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets underneath him is any indication. His teeth are gritted so hard that you can see a muscle jumping in his cheek, revealing just how difficult it must be for him to hold back his sounds.

You pout slightly at the realization. You’d like nothing more than to hear him moan for you. But you have a role to play here—you’re supposed to be completely indifferent, and begging for him to moan your name would ruin that purpose, no matter how much you want it. Somehow, you still value your ego more. Just like he does.

So you pump him harder, lowering your eyes to your work to avoid the heat of his gaze, and biting down hard on your bottom lip to resist the urge to taste him… The hot precum leaking from his tip is so tempting, but you force yourself to stay strong. You can’t let him win, like he always does. Not this time. It’s been your mission in life to prove to him that you’re not just another one of his fawning fangirls hanging onto his every word. You refuse to be that person… maybe because you want to be more than just that to him…

If you let your emotions take control right now, then you’ll be doomed. You’ll let him know how much you care… How much you’ve always cared about him. And then he’ll just laugh you off, like probably does with all the other love-struck admirers. You stand no chance. This will be as much as you’ll ever get from him.

And with that in mind, you suddenly slow down your pace, realizing that this is the only chance you’ll get to ever touch him. You close your eyes as you try to remember every detail—the weight of his cock in your hand, the very texture and warmth; his ragged breathing and the way he looks, whole body drenched in sweat. It’s then that you realize with a sinking heart that no man will ever compare. That this is it.

“Fuck, ___,” Jin groans, tearing you away from your thoughts, “Are you trying to kill me?”

You ignore him to wring your fist up his length, paying special attention to the sensitive head of his cock.

Jin curses again, “Fucking hell, ____! Why are you doing this to me?” He shifts in obvious discomfort on the bed, hips lifting towards your stingy touch.

“What do you mean?” you say as you examine his heavy, pulsating erection. It’s so hot and red, you can only imagine that he’s practically at his bursting point. You almost feel sorry for him. But if he hates this so much, he can just get himself off. His hands are just about as good as yours, apparently.

Jin throws his head back and groans deeply when you slide a thumb across his slit, “You’re fucking doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” you snort, “Aren’t you just getting a little desperate?”

“Yeah, because I want to fucking cum and you’re making it impossible,” he spits back, “Why are you so lazy? Why can’t you put in some fucking effort?”

“I’m just not interested,” You smoothly lie through your teeth, “This is so boring to me.”

“If we’re just friends and you’re not attracted to me whatsoever, then why the fuck are you even doing this?” Jin growls.

He’s got you there. “And if you’re not attracted to me either, then why do you want this so badly?” you shoot back, instead of addressing his question.

“Because your hands are soft and I want to fucking cum on them!” he practically snarls, “Don’t you dare think this has anything to do with you.”

Your nostrils flare in anger, and you’re almost tempted to just drop his cock and stomp out of the room. But that would mean that you’ve let him get under your skin. And you’re determined to not let him affect you one bit.

“Fine,” you snap. And with that, you begin jerking him off as fast as you can.

Jin’s entire form crumples at once, as he practically folds his larger frame over you. He’s a bit slow with his reactions this time and doesn’t have the self-control to hold himself back before a strangled moan tears through the room.

You ignore him and the wetness in your underwear as you impatiently stroke him towards his orgasm. His precum is still flowing, but it’s not quite enough, and you quickly duck your head to spit on him to further lubricate your movements.

Clearly not expecting that, Jin shouts out your name, astonished by the vulgar action, “___!”

“Shut up,” you growl in response, redoubling your efforts. He’s so close right now. You can feel it viscerally as if it was your own pleasure. The way his arms shake with the effort to keep him upright, the way his breathing goes haywire, and the way every muscle in his body tenses like a coil… He’s either on the edge or right there. And true to your expectations, it only takes another minute of your harsh pumping before he’s suddenly latching out to grab you with both hands.

“Fuck!” he shouts, entire body trembling as he bursts all over your hands. Any semblance of self-control disappears at that instant, where he helplessly jerks his hips up into your hand, desperate for more friction.

You patiently stroke him through his orgasm, using his excessive cum as lubrication. He meets you stroke for stroke, and the fluid motions of his hips makes your mouth go dry. You’ve never seen anything so fucking hot as Kim Seokjin when consumed mindless by his powerful orgasm.

But all good things must come to an end, and a few seconds later, he pushes away your hands with a shiver of overstimulation. You reluctantly withdraw and stare down at your cum-coated hands. For a second, you’re nearly overcome with the need to taste him by sucking his cum off of your fingers one by one. Somehow, you resist and reach over to pluck a few tissues from the nightstand, “Ew.”

Jin is still breathing too hard to respond. He shakily brushes his sweaty bangs off his forehead and tucks his spent length back in his pants, “Sh-shut up.”

You ignore him to reach for the hand sanitizer instead, intentionally rubbing it on in front of him to prove a point.

A heavy silence suffuses the room, and you have no idea how to address it as you carry on with your act. You realize that the logical course of action is to kick him out of your apartment… But you don’t really want to do that.

“Come on,” Jin says, breaking through the tension, “Lie on your back. I’ll eat you out or something.”

But the way he says it makes it sound like a chore, and your face heats at the implication, “Forget it, asshole. Don’t even front. I know what a selfish bastard you are.”

His brow furrows with indignation, “What the fuck? I’ll prove to you just how wrong you are. Get on your back, kid.”

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say to him as it just encouraged his competitive drive. You try a different approach, “No way. Why do you think I would ever want that?”

“Are you still playing this game? Calm down and let me rub one out for you.”

His crassness makes you shrivel up in embarrassment. There’s nothing you’d want more, but you know that the moment you drop your pants, he’ll realize how turned on you are… You’ve already soaked through your panties at this point, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you left a stain against the bed sheets. And he can’t know how aroused you are from just pleasuring him. You would never survive the embarrassment.

“Stop it,” you say, “Just leave me alone.”

You’re not sure if you’re more relieved or disappointed when he concedes. “Fine,” he bites out, “I didn’t want to go through that effort anyways, so you spared me.”

That stings more than it should. “Whatever. Just go home, asshole.”

Jin doesn’t even look at you as he angrily buttons his pants and yanks his clothes back into place. Then, without sparing you a single word, he marches straight out of your bedroom. You count down from ten in your head, and the moment you hear the front door slam shut, you collapse onto your bed with a deep groan. It feels like all the energy has left your body, making you feel exhausted enough to sleep for a decade.

What you had just done to Jin… That was single-handedly the sexiest experience of your life. And yet… why do you feel so empty?

*********************************************************************************

You don’t speak to Jin for the next week. For most friends, this is a pretty normal occurrence. But you and Jin are so close that it’s odd to not speak to him for even a day, much less an entire week. The first few days are tough. You almost forget that you’re fighting multiple times throughout the week, and pick up your phone to complain to him about the harsh feedback your advisor’s sent you, or the annoying thing Lei’s done this time, before you collect yourself.

But when the 10-day mark rolls by, you feel your defenses crumbling. You find yourself pausing in the hallway outside of your apartment, staring down at your dry phone with a frown. Normally Fridays are your bi-weekly dinner dates with Jin. It’s been a tradition between the two of you since you were in your second year of university. Surely, he wouldn’t be petty enough to forget this… right?

You’re about to pull up Jin’s contact in your phone to call him when a family of four nearly plow you over in their hurry to the elevator.

“Sorry, Miss!” the frazzled mother yells out before she shoos her children into the elevator.

It’s too hazardous to stand out here in the busy hallway, so you quickly unlock the front door of your apartment unit and let yourself in before hitting the green “call” button. You’re just about to toss your keys on the counter when a loud vibration makes you jump in surprise. Oh, you thought you were home alone. Lei was supposed to be out until late tonight. You look up to greet her, but the smile slides right off your face when you find someone much bigger than Lei sitting in the living room. The keys slip between your fingers to fall to the ground with a loud clatter.

“Oh, shit.”

But Jin beats you to it, rushing across the room to pick up your fallen keys for you, “Here,” he says as he hands them to you.

“Thanks,” you resist the urge to shiver as his fingers brush yours. Then you drop your gaze to your feet, too overwhelmed by his sudden appearance to look him in the eye, “Jin, what are you doing here?”

“Tch, don’t tell me you forgot about our dinner night?”

You peek up at him in embarrassment, “Really…? You’re not still mad at me?”

He rolls his eyes at that, “How can I be mad at you for something so stupid? Come on. Put down your backpack and let’s go.”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, you lurch forward to throw your arms around his neck in a painfully tight embrace, “I’m sorry, Jin!”

He chuckles as he hugs you back, “Don’t be, ___... Seriously. Don’t be.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you don’t care. All you know is that you have your best friend back, “Let’s never do anything so stupid again.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes when he finally lets you go, “If you say so.”

*********************************************************************************

Jin insists on walking you back to your apartment after dinner (even though his car is parked just on the curb), and you decide that it’s only proper to invite him in for a drink. But as Jin watches you fumble around in the kitchen with a beer in his hand, he suddenly shoots you with an unexpected question:

“Hey, ___, have you ever thought about me as more than a friend?”

You nearly drop the glass you had been cleaning in shock, “Wh-what?”

“We’ve been friends for a long time. Surely you must have thought about it one time or the other?” he calls out as casually as if he was discussing the weather.

You slowly put down the glass as you deliberate your next words carefully. But how can you evade the question without straight-up lying to his face? “I… I’m not sure why you’re asking me that,” you slowly say.

Jin sighs deeply and plops down his beer on the coffee table, “Stop cleaning and come sit with me for a second.”

There’s no way you can reject that simple request without appearing suspicious, so you reluctantly wipe your hands and join him, “What’s up, Jin?” you ask as you cautiously take a seat next to him on the couch and fold your legs underneath yourself.

He pauses for a moment, fiddling with the hem of his oversized cream sweater, before speaking, “I know that I’m not your type. That’s what you’ve been telling me since we first met. But surely over the past five years that we’ve been friends, it must have crossed your mind at one point or the other, right?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of his intentions behind this line of questioning, but terrified, nevertheless, “I’m not sure what you mean, Jin.”

He sighs in frustration before trying again, “Come on, ___. You can be honest here… Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

Your mouth instantly goes dry at his question, and for a moment it feels like you can’t breathe. “Wh-what are you--? Why… I-I never!” you choke on your words, then hurriedly backtrack to try to fix your mistake, “I mean, I’m not blind. I can admit that you’re objectively hot, but that doesn’t mean that I want to—” You break off, embarrassed beyond belief, “God, Jin! Where the hell is this coming from?!”

But the tall dark-haired man purses his lips together tightly and steamrolls on, “Really, ___? So you’re trying to tell me that in our five years of friendship, not once did you ever think about me sexually?”

You take a moment to inhale deeply and brace yourself, “Never,” you lie through your teeth.

His eyes narrow, “Really?”

“Really.”

He cocks his head to the side as he considers you, brow furrowed as though deep in thought. Then, he unexpectedly lets out a bark of laughter, “Bullshit.”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Bullshit,” he growls, “I know it’s not all in my head. I know that you want me, ___.”

Your face heats with indignation, “What the fuck’s gotten into you these days?!” you seethe, “I know how you act with the other girls, but can you keep your oversized ego in check with me at least?!”

“Fine, if you’re not the least bit attracted to me, then come here,” he says, grabbing you by the hands to drag you closer to him on the couch so that your thighs touch, “Do you really feel nothing when I’m this close to you?”

“No!” You exclaim at once, though you can’t help the way your body floods with warmth at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

“Really? Look at me, ___. You seriously don’t want to kiss me right now?”

“No, not at all!” you shriek as you try to rip your hands out of his grip, but he’s a lot stronger than you expected.

“So what you’re trying to say is that you feel nothing for me,” he presses on, a strange desperation flashing in his eyes before he quickly masks it, “There is absolutely no attraction between us, and you’ll only ever see me as a friend?”

“Yes,” you lie, since it’s all you’re good at, “I don’t like you, Seokjin, and I never will.”

At that, he drops your wrists as though burned, “Alright,” he mutters in a bitter tone, “I understand.”

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth to try to calm your pounding heart. It doesn’t work. “Good,” you whisper in a hoarse tone. Then you rise to your knees and smash your lips to his.

Jin is completely still for the longest, most devastating second of your life. You’re about to furiously apologize then throw yourself out the window in disgrace when he suddenly grabs you by the back of the neck and forcibly deepens the kiss. And then his tongue is in your mouth, boldly pressing past your teeth and curling with yours as his fingers tighten around your neck, holding you captive.

His kisses are nothing like the modest, chaste ones he gave you in the kitchen a week and a half ago. This time he’s on the edge of violent, devouring you whole and holding onto you so hard that you have zero chance of escape. It’s as though he’s afraid that you might try to leave again. But you wouldn’t even if you could. Because this has been five whole years in the making. You’ve wanted him since the first time you laid eyes on him. And now that you’ve finally got him…

You feel like you’re drowning under the heat of his touch. It’s like the blood rushing through your veins has turned to molten lava, burning you from the inside out. You’re completely powerless as you get swept up by your desires, like a leaf in the wind. All you can do is relish the sensations, clinging onto Jin with both hands as you silently beg him for more.

And he does not disappoint. Without missing a beat or breaking the heated kiss, Jin shoves both hands up your shirt, hot fingers trailing along your stomach and ribcage for a second before he boldly grabs your breasts. You gasp into his mouth in surprise, and the sound turns into a guttural moan when Jin slides his mouth from yours to suck deep bruises into the tender skin under your jaw. The multitude of sensations leaves you breathless. But before you can rip off your shirt to allow him better access, Jin suddenly jumps up and hauls you off your feet with formidable strength you weren’t aware he possessed.

His lips are on yours again before you can comment on this new development, distracting you with hot kisses until your back hits something springy. You break from the kiss with a yelp of surprise to find yourself in your bedroom, pressed flat against your messy sheets as Jin continues to mouth at the crook of your neck. Somehow, he had carried you to your room when you were unaware. And now that he’s not limited by the awkward positioning of your bodies on the couch, he’s able to lower himself on top of you, trapping you under his broad frame with no restrictions.

“Jin!” You yell out in shock when a shift of his hips has you feeling the painfully hard erection in his jeans for the first time.

He ignores you to yank on one of your legs, forcing it to wrap around his waist and allowing himself surface area to grind against as he loses himself to his lust. And then it hits you like a slap to the face that this is actually happening. That this isn’t going to be some casual make out session or another quick handjob. That after all of these years of fantasizing and waiting, you’re finally going to have sex with Kim Seokjin. This is actually happening.

“Seokjin,” you murmur his name when he begins nipping down to your cleavage, making him freeze in his tracks.

“…Yes?” He asks as he stares up at you with fearful wide eyes. You instantly recognize the trepidation in them, confusing you for a moment before awareness dawns upon you. He’s scared… because he thinks that you might ask him to stop. And you know that he would. He would do it in a heartbeat if that’s what you wanted. But he’s so aroused that it wouldn’t be anything short of excruciating.

So you giggle softly to dispel his fears and affectionately lean up to nip his earlobe, “Take off your clothes, Jin,” you whisper in his ear.

Your sultry request incites something within him, because less than a second passes before he’s shooting up onto his haunches and ripping off his clothes at lightning speed. You gasp out loud at the sight of his bare chest, hungry fingers darting to touch the hard muscle, but before you can make contact, Jin pushes your hands away to undress you as well. In a blink of an eye, your shirt hits the ground along with your bra. Jin pauses for a moment there, distracted by the mouthwatering sight of your breasts, but quickly refocuses when you wiggle out of your jeans and carelessly kick them off to the ground, leaving you decked in only a pair of thin cotton underwear. And together, the two of you peel them off your legs, leaving you entirely naked before him.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes shamelessly devouring you from head to toe as he runs his tongue over his lips over and over, practically salivating at the sight of your bare body spread out across the sheets.

Embarrassed, you try to cover yourself with your hands, “Jin…”

He possessively rips your hands from your body and pins them above your head, “Don’t you dare cover yourself from me,” he growls before covering your lips with his swollen red ones again.

His grip is as strong as steel around your wrists and you couldn’t break free even if you wanted to. You never knew that your handsome, princely best friend possessed such strength, and it’s sexy to say the least. He had always seemed almost delicate, like he would be flimsy in bed, but you could’ve have been more wrong. It feels like a wall of concrete is closing in on you, surprisingly well-defined muscles rippling with every movement, and you feel light-headed from the intensity of your arousal.

“Fuck me, Jin,” you beg as you careen your hips up for friction.

He curses softly at this, but somehow resists, instead slipping his hand down to cup your mound, “How are you so fucking wet?” he asks in shock as he easily slides a finger inside of you.

You clench down on him at once, moaning at the sensations when he begins curling his finger inside of you. But it’s not enough. Not when you know how big and thick his cock is, and how much more nicely it’d fill you up than his slender fingers. “Seokjin,” you whine, “Please just fuck me.”

He bites down on his plump bottom lip at that, but somehow manages to refuse you with a shake of his head, “No. I gotta stretch you out first, baby. So I don’t hurt you.”

“I can take it, Jin!” you exclaim, practically thrashing underneath him when he slips another finger inside of you, rocking them both up against your g-spot in a way that makes you see stars in your vision.

Jin groans softly as you clench around him as hard as you can, clearly imagining his dick in the place of his fingers… which he could easily have, if he wasn’t so damn stubborn. “N-not yet,” he says, but the tremble of his voice gives him away.

“Please!” you mindlessly beg, “I want your dick so bad, I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now! Please, Jin!”

He falters at that, and when you lean up to bite down at the thick muscle of his neck, Jin’s resolve crumbles entirely. “Fuck, okay,” he breathlessly agrees, and with one last harsh twist of his thumb against your clit, he rises onto his knees to yank at his belt. “Get a condom.”

You’re so distracted by the residues of pleasure that continue to buzz in your system that you can’t process his words for a moment. But when you finally do, you hastily shake your head, horrified by the very thought, “I’m on birth control… And we know each other. You’re clean, right?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Then please cum inside of me, Seokjin,” you purr, wrapping both legs around his waist and rubbing your drenched slit against the front of his crotch.

His eyes darken at that, and in a blink of an eye, he has his jeans and underwear shoved to mid-thigh and his burning hot erection gripped in his hand. You can’t help the gasp that tears from your throat at the sight. He’s bigger than you remember. Not only is he long, but unbelievably wide in girth. You like dick as much as anyone else, but this is almost excessive. For a split second, trepidation breaks through the cloud of arousal. There’s no way he will fit… not without a great deal of pain, at least.

Jin senses your hesitation, and he lowers his head to give you a soft, reassuring kiss, “I told you to give me time to stretch you out,” he says as he gently slides the flat of his cock against your pussy lips.

That snaps you out of it, and you quickly shake your head, absolutely resolute as you spread your thighs for him, “I don’t care. Do it next time. Right now, I just need you to fuck me before I go insane!”

Jin pauses at that, “Next time…?”

You ignore him to lift your hips up, grinding your sopping wet pussy against his dick, “Please just put it in, Jin!”

He chokes back a groan at that and licks his lips, “Fuck, alright.” And his former line of questioning lost through this distraction, he shakily presses the head of his cock against your entrance, biting down hard on his bottom lip when it pops past the barrier, allowing him to sink in a good inch or two before he forces himself to stop. “A-are you okay?” he asks, voice quivering as hard as the arms trying to brace themselves on either side of your head.

It’s a bit uncomfortable having your entrance stretched this wide to accommodate his girth, but it’s not intolerable. So you nod your head and spread your legs wider, allowing him a full two more inches into your delicious heat before you press a hand against his stomach to stop him. “Ow, give me a moment,” you say with a wince.

He jerks his head in a curt nod, trying to be respectful of your needs, even as his hands grip around the sheets tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. In the minute he allows you, he restlessly noses around your neck, darting his tongue out to taste random spots, as though seeking any distraction to keep from shoving the rest of his cock inside of you like he desperately desires.

Taking pity on him, you raise your hips to meet his until you’ve got nearly half of his enormous cock inside of you. Already, it’s a bit more of a stretch than you can handle, and your body automatically attempts to push this foreign item out of you by tightening and squeezing around him. It’s completely instinctive, like a knee-jerk reflex, and you realize too late that it’s the absolute worst thing you could do to a man with his self-control shred to tatters.

The moment he feels your walls clamping around him as tight as a vice, Jin throws his head back with a gasp, then slams the rest of his length inside of you with a single jerk of his hips.

You’re suddenly overwhelmed, filled to the hilt, and you’re sure he’s hit your cervix by the sharp pain that stabs your lower stomach upon impact, but you wouldn’t dare stop him. Even the pain is poignant, the sharpness chased by the sweetest aftertaste of pleasure that has you hungry for more.

“A-are you okay?” he breathlessly asks, even as he begins to surge forward in your heat, hips immediately picking up a rapid pace.

“Yes!” You yell out, “Please don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he curses as he digs his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so good.”

You wrap your legs tighter around his narrow waist in response, silently urging him on as he literally fucks the thoughts out of your mind. As a result, neither of you notice the bang of the front door swinging open until a voice calls out—

“___, I’m home!”

You stiffen at the sound of Lei’s voice and dig your nails into Jin’s back to keep him from moving, “Shit,” you whisper, eyes wide with fear at getting caught, “We need to be quiet!”

Jin’s hot pants fill the air as he struggles to hold himself still inside of your hot pussy when all he wants to do is fuck you into oblivion. He manages exactly ten seconds before his eyes flash dangerously, “Fuck that shit,” and with that, he pulls back on his heels and slams into you so hard that your entire body knocks back into the headboard, and a scream of his name come tearing from the back of your throat before you can help it.

“Seokjin!”

There’s the sound of something clanging noisily as it hits the ground in the other room, followed by Lei’s cursing, “What the fuck…?”

Jin laughs under his breath as he continues to drill into you, delighting in the shrieks and bubbles of noise you helplessly emit. “Fuck, ____,” he moans dramatically, so that his voice can be heard through the thin walls, “You feel so good.”

You bite down on your bottom lip to hold back your laughter as you catch onto his wicked plan, “Oh Jin, please fuck me harder!” you wantonly moan at the top of your lungs, “Harder, baby, harder!”

Jin flashes you a brilliant grin before reaching up to bang his fist against the headboard, the loud thuds echoing throughout the room, “Like this, baby?” he half-yells, even though he has fallen motionless inside of you.

“Fuck yes!” You scream so loudly that even Jin jumps in surprise.

That is the last straw, and a second later, you hear the front door opening, “You guys are fucking disgusting!” Lei shrieks in the shrillest voice imaginable before slamming the door shut.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Jin blinks at you, “Do you think we finally got your revenge?”

“I sure hope so… What more can we do?”

A stunning smile stretches across Jin’s handsome face as he peers down at you, “Want to take this to her bed instead?”

You stare at him with huge eyes for split second, shocked beyond belief. He stares back with a raised eyebrow. Then, the tension breaks and the two of you burst into hysterical laughter.

“This is crazy!” you yelp as tears fill your eyes from how hard you’re laughing. This whole thing is just so ridiculous! Not in a million years did you ever imagine yourself to end up in such a wild situation! You clutch your aching tummy as you continue to be overcome by peals of laughter, and as a result, you don’t notice that Jin has fallen deathly silent until he suddenly grabs you by the hips with a snarl.

The laughter dies in your chest as you take in the sudden intensity of his cold stare, “Jin…?”

He tightens his grip around your hips when you shift around to try to look at him better, “Stop. Fucking. Moving.”

You instantly obey, freezing to ice as the implications of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. Your hearty laughter, with him buried deep inside of you, has probably shaken him up in the most agonizing way possible… Flustered, you nervously chuckle, unintentionally constricting and vibrating around his cock again.

Jin falls on top of you with a tortured groan, hands sinking into the pillow on either side of your head as he helplessly drives his hips forward into your warmth, “I thought I told you to stop moving,” he hisses as he pulls out just to ram himself inside of you, up to the hilt. And just like that, the tension breaks as the desire to cum rushes back, ten-fold.

“Oh my god, Jin,” you groan as he begins to mercilessly pound you into the mattress, “How are you so fucking big?”

He chuckles breathlessly, “I hope you’re not in too much pain in the morning.”

“I’ve already lost feeling in my legs,” you say, even as you wrap them tighter around his lithe waist, “What is this damn elephant trunk of yours?

That makes him laugh again, sweaty face flushing with a tint of pink, “I’m sorry baby girl.”

“Don’t be,” you groan, “Because it’s fucking awesome.”

“I promise I’ll be gentler next time,” he guarantees you through heavy pants, “But right now… I need to cum… fuck, I’m so close, ___.”

“Me too,” you groan, blindly lifting your hips for more. And as a result, you’re too dazed by your need for an orgasm to process the meaning behind his words. This whole situation should be unbearably uncomfortable and weird—you’re fucking your best friend of half a decade, after all. But for some reason, it feels right. Like you were meant to have him buried in your pussy. You’ve never known what empty felt like until now that you’ve finally experienced the ecstasy of complete fullness.

Warmth is bursting at the seams of your legs, coloring your vision a rosy tint, but still, it’s not quite enough. So you slip a hand between your sweaty bodies, seeking that extra boost that will send you off the edge. But before you can rub yourself to completion, a hand knocks yours to the side.

“Let me,” Jin offers, brow wrinkled in concern as he resumes drawing circles around your clit for you. It takes you a second to recognize the emotion on his face as jealousy—over your own touch on your body. It’s so childish and yet endearing that you can’t help but laugh at his illogical reaction. However, your amusement quickly dies in your chest when Jin vindictively digs his thumb into your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, sending you catapulting towards your orgasm so fast, you experience whiplash.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you trash from underneath him, practically bucking him off, “I’m going to cum!”

Jin moans from deep in his chest in response to your warning and leans down to suck a hickey into your neck, “Do it,” he breathlessly commands you, “Cum for me now.”

Like a puppet on a string, your body automatically obeys, and with just one last hard slam of his cock into your fluttering walls, you squeeze your eyes shut and cum all over him. The white-hot pleasure overwhelms you, filling every cell of your body with blinding light such that your mind blanks entirely. Consequently, you’re too caught up in your own pleasure to notice when Jin stiffens above you, his own release triggered by the sudden vice-like clamping of your walls over his dick. He cums noisily, grunting your name and spitting various curses as he snaps his hips back and forth, riding out his orgasm in bliss.

When he’s emptied every last bit of his hot semen inside of you, Jin finally pulls out with a deep sigh of contentment. There’s a few minutes of blessed silence where the two of you simply lie there, nuzzling into each other with soft kisses, and listening to your racing hearts slow. You feel sluggish with exhaustion in the aftermath of your orgasmic bliss. And it feels so nice to have Jin gently mouthing at your neck as he holds you close to his body, both arms looped possessively around your waist like he never wants to let you go. Your eyes feel so heavy that you can’t help but close them, as you reason with yourself that it couldn’t hurt to doze off for just a few minutes…

But of course Jin has to go and ruin the peaceful atmosphere with his big, fat mouth.

“See? I knew you were attracted to me,” he chuckles, voice muffled by your skin.

And just like that, the mood breaks and your jaw drops with indignation, “What the hell?” you angrily shove him off of you.

Bewildered by your sudden shift in mood, Jin nevertheless rolls over onto his back, “Huh? ___, what’s wrong?”

“How are you so fucking arrogant, Kim Seokjin?” you growl as you hunt for your clothes.

“What? No, I’m not!” He protests in confusion, “How is it arrogance when I’m just stating facts? You’re clearly attracted to me! Why else would you have jumped me like some kind of feral animal?!”

Your face grows hot at the unflattering reminder, “Oh my god, shut up, Jin. I must have had a minor stroke or something. I don’t know what else could have possessed me to act in that a way. I’m such a basic bitch!”

“Why are you acting this way? It was good, wasn’t it?” he asks with a touch of defensiveness.

It was more than good. It was amazing. Mind-blowing, really. But there’s no way in hell you’ll boost his ego by letting him know that. “You have a big dick, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean shit.”

He colors at your insult, “And you think you’re all that? All you did was lie down and take it, ___. I might as well have been fucking a ragdoll or something.”

“Oh yeah? Well look at you, asshole. I gave you a handjob and let you fuck my pussy. And what did I get in return? Just a bruised cervix.”

Jin splutters at the complete unfairness of your words, “B-but—what are you even—I tried to reciprocate, but you wouldn’t let me!”

You choose to ignore that, “All I hear are excuses! I seriously can’t believe you, Jin. Were you honestly expecting me to fall to my knees and thank you for blessing me with your dick?”

“Why not?” he hotly shoots back, “You were literally begging me to fuck you earlier. I think you could show a bit more appreciation.”

You heat up further as you remember the shit you said in bed, but you resolutely refuse to allow any embarrassment or weakness to show in front of him, “I don’t know who you think I am, Kim Seokjin. But I’m not one of your fangirls who pray that you’ll look in their direction, and allow you to use them like disposable sex dolls. That won’t work with me. I’m more than that. Jin, you know I am,” you say, hoping that he will agree with your statement.

To your disappointment, he snorts in derision, “Yeah right. You may pretend to be all high and mighty, but I know you’re just as thirsty for this dick as the rest of them. Just admit it, babe.”

Your ego is torn to shreds, yet you make you last attempt, desperate to not let this opportunity slip past you, “I won’t be another one of your playthings, Jin. I deserve better.” There’s a brief moment of silence following your confession. You’ve wanted to say this since you first caught feelings for him all the way back during college, and the fact that you’ve finally gotten this off your chest is both liberating and completely terrifying. You know that your chances are slim at best, but you can’t help but hope against hope.

“Tch, whatever,” is Jin’s gruff response when he finally catches his breath, “Fuck you too.” And with that, he collects his clothes and stomps out of your bedroom.

You sit there for a long time after he leaves, helplessly staring after him. Not even in your wildest dreams or most frightening nightmares could you have ever predicted him reacting in this way. With all of your years of friendship, you actually believed him to care about you. So his blunt, heartless rejection is agonizing to say the least. You had expected an awkward rejection—maybe a half-assed hug and a promise that you’d find someone else at worst. But you have never witnessed such coldness from this man who you had considered to be your best friend.

Suddenly wracked with shivers, you slowly slide under the covers and pull them over your head. The remnants of his cum is still seeping out of you, sliding down your leg to stain your sheets, but you’re too numb to care. You can only lie there and stare up at the ceiling as you fight the urge to cry.

*********************************************************************************

You can’t bring yourself to crawl out of bed the next morning until nearly noon. You know that you look like a hot mess with your hair matted and eyes swollen from crying. All you want to do is grab a glass of water from the kitchen to keep from dehydration, then spend the rest of the day cooped up in your bed.

Unfortunately, as you pour yourself water in the kitchen, Lei hears the commotion from her bedroom, and hurriedly rushes out to intercept you.

“___!” She yells your name, making you cringe.

God, you really need to get your own apartment… You take another long swallow of your water before you slowly put the glass down, “…Yes?”

She places both hands on her hips, clearly upset with you for some reason you can’t fathom, “How dare you pull a stunt like that last night!”

You wince at the volume of her voice, “What do you mean?” you ask, glancing longingly past her to the open door of your bedroom.

“Don’t you even try to play dumb, ___! That stunt you pulled with Seokjin! How could you do that to me?!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Irritation fills you for the first time at her hypocrisy, “Maybe we were a little loud, but so what? You bring home men all the time!”

“That’s not what I’m pissed about!” She says with a childish stomp of her foot, “Are you kidding me right now, ___?!”

“Lei, I really have no idea what you’re trying to say!” you exclaim, frustrated by this situation. Why is she acting up like this when you’re already feeling so miserable?

“You can’t possibly be this dense!” she practically shrieks at you, making you heat with anger, “I don’t care if you hook up with random guys! I care if it’s Kim Seokjin!”

“Why?” You yell back, “What’s so different about that asshole?!”

“What’s so different?” Lei repeats, dumbfounded, “Are you fucking—he’s different because I liked him!”

It takes a few seconds for you to process her unexpected confession. You open your mouth, as though to reply, but your words fail you. Instead you’re left gaping at her like a fish out of water as you try to wrap your mind around this. “Wh-what?” you finally croak out, “Lei, what are you even saying?”

“Don’t even try to play dumb,” she huffs, “I know how close you are to Seokjin. I bet he told you fucking everything! That lying bastard… Can you believe he rejected me by saying that he didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but then he goes and screws around with you just a year later?!”

You’re still reeling. “Hold on,” you say as you dig your fingers into your suddenly aching temples, “I need a moment to process this…”

But Lei ignores you to continue ranting, “Seokjin is an asshole, and we all know this. I’m not surprised. And I don’t care if you’re dating now. That’s fine. I don’t even care that you guys show your sickening PDA in front of me… But to fuck the guy who you knew I liked so noisily when you knew I was home?! Now that’s actually messed up, ___.”

You wince at the accusation, “It’s not like that, Lei. I seriously didn’t know!”

Your roommate sniffs loudly, “Yeah right, bitch. I hope that you’re pleased with yourself,” and with that, she turns dramatically on her heel to march out of the apartment.

“Wait, where are you going?!” You anxiously call after her.

“To fuck Jung Hoseok!” She informs you with a perfect flick of her long curls over a shoulder.

You flinch in shock, “Wait, you’ve fucked him too?”

“I guess he got tired of waiting for you,” she snickers before she slams the door shut.

You stare at the front door for a few seconds, contemplating your next course of action. What you really want to do is chase after your roommate and clarify this huge misunderstanding with her, but it’s clear that she won’t be receptive to anything you’re saying right now. So you decide to put that problem on the backburner. But for the meantime…

Your expression darkens as you pull out your phone to scroll to Jin’s contact. Done with being sad, your tears have all dried up and now you’re just pissed. Time to get some answers from this shady fuckboi.

*********************************************************************************

“Oh,” Jin’s eyes widen at the sight of you on his front door step less than half an hour later, “___... when you said that we needed to talk over the phone earlier, I didn’t realize that you meant in person… and right now.”

“Why? Is not a bad time?”

He shakes his head and moves out of the way, “No, please come in.”

You remove your shoes at the entrance before slowly walking across the vast apartment and taking a careful seat on his expensive leather couch. He lives by himself in a luxury apartment tower in the heart of the city. This is what happens when you don’t make the poor decision of entering a six-year doctoral program and living in near-poverty conditions until you’re thirty. Must be nice…

“How did you even get in here?” Jin asks as he pops open two beers from the fridge and hands you one.

You gratefully accept the icy beverage, “The security guard let me in.”

“What? Why?!”

You shrug as you take a sip, “I dunno. He seems to think that I live with you.”

“Oh… That’s weird.”

“Yeah…”

Things between the two of you are still awkward from the events of last night. All you can think about when you look at him is how good he looked in your bed, drenched in sweat and swollen red lips parted in pleasure. But the heat rising in your blood quickly chills over when you remember the way he had rejected you and crushed your ego mere moments afterwards.

“I had a really interesting discussion with Lei earlier today,” you say as you take another cautious sip of your beer.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise in surprise, “About what?”

“About something that transpired between the two of you last year…”

“Oh…?” He folds his hands awkwardly in his lap, and it might just be your imagination, but does he suddenly look nervous?

You twist in your seat to face him, “Jin… why didn’t you tell me that Lei asked you out?”

His face blanches at the accusation and it seems like he wants to deny it at first, but thinks better of it, “I… I just… I mean, I didn’t see the importance of bringing up something like that…”

“How is it not important?” You snap back, temper rising, “Lei is my roommate. And you’re supposed to be my best friend! How could you have kept such a thing from me?”

He shrugs and drops his gaze to his lap, clearly abashed, “I dunno… It just wasn’t a big deal…”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” You practically yell at him, horrified by his heartlessness, “And to fool around with me in front of her when you knew she liked you?! How could you have done such a thing?!”

His ears are flushed pink at this point, “You’re right. I’m an asshole. I deserve this…”

But his apology still doesn’t explain shit. “You’re not normally like this!” You exclaim in frustration, “Why are you acting all shady and weird?! This isn’t like you!”

He shrugs again, unable to make eye contact at this point even if he wanted to. His broad form is shriveled up with shame, making him look like a little boy caught stealing. “I don’t know…”

That answer isn’t good enough, “Cut the bullshit, Kim Seokjin!” you growl at him, “And just tell me, once and for all: Why didn’t you tell me about Lei?!”

He chews his plush bottom lip for a few seconds as he mulls over his answer, “Because I didn’t want to,” he finally admits.

You’re practically tearing out your hair at this point, “And why’s that?!”

“I just didn’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because I was afraid that you would never date me if you knew!”

The confession hits you like a slap of icy water in the face. It’s so unexpected, so completely disorienting that you can’t even wrap your mind around it. For a moment, you fear that you’ve misunderstood, “…What did you say?”

Jin’s entire face is as red as a tomato with embarrassment, but with enormous courage, he forces himself to venture on, “You’re a loyal person, ___,” he says in a small voice, “I’ve known you for five years now, and I know that you value your friendships above all else… Chicks over dicks, right?” he says with a humorless chuckle, “I knew that if you ever found out about Lei having feelings for me, that I’d be off-limits. And then I’d never have a chance with you!”

Oh god… What is he even saying right now? Could the great Kim Seokjin, the ultimate playboy with girls throwing themselves at his feet, begging for a chance, actually have feelings for you…? This can’t be real. “Jin…” you whisper his name, “Do you… do you like me?”

He winces at your question and buries his burning hot face in his hands, unable to respond except for a stiff nod of his head, “More than that…” he finally manages to choke out.

Your world spins dizzily around you, and you’re grateful that you’re sitting, otherwise you might have fallen over with the way your knees suddenly weaken to mush. “B-but… but why haven’t you ever said anything to me?” You croak, trying to process this bewildering situation, but it still feels like you’re in a dream.

“And get my heart broken?” he snorts, derisive, “No thank you.”

“How are you so positive that I’d reject you?” You ask, looking up at him in confusion.

“Are you serious, ___?” he says in astonishment, “You’re the one who tells me every day how you’re not attracted to me. And that you only see me as a friend.”

You flush at the accuracy of his words, “Yes, but that’s because you’re a fuckboy! All you do is hookup, and you don’t care for relationships.”

“Maybe that’s because I’ve been waiting for the right one.”

That statement takes your breath away, “But… b-but,” you stammer, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why does it matter?” he bitterly counters, “You never reciprocated my feelings, and I’m not good enough for you, so why bother?”

“What?!” you explode at that. You’ve never heard anything so untrue. “What the hell are you talking about?! No one said that!”

“You have!”

Your face scrunches into a deep scowl, “What the fuck? No way! I would never say something like that!”

“Are you kidding me?! ___, you literally just said this to my face last night!”

“I did not! Do you have listening comprehension problems or something? Because there’s no way I would ever—”

“ ‘I deserve better’,” He spits out, quoting you word-for-word, “I get it… And I agree, okay? You do deserve someone better than me. But saying that to me like ten minutes after my dream of getting to touch you finally came true… That was too cruel, ___. Even you have to admit that.”

You’re so taken aback by his rant that you can’t even speak for the next few seconds. All this time… through the past five years of friendship and secret longing… this was all due to a simple misunderstanding? For a frightening moment, you fear that you might cry.

“Jin,” you whisper in a strained tone when you finally find your voice again. He peeks up at you in curiosity. You take a deep breath to stay calm, then firmly place both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look you straight in the eyes. You won’t tolerate any misunderstandings this time. “Jin,” you say his name again, your voice clear and firm this time.

“Yes?” He says, looking up with a glint of hope shining in his eyes.

You squeeze his shoulders, and without breaking eye contact you say in the most serious tone you can muster, “You are the dumbest motherfucker I have ever met.”

His face crumples at once, “What?!”

You ignore his offended expression and tighten your grip in his broad shoulders, “You have no language comprehension skills whatsoever, and I fear that you might be illiterate,” you inform him with a straight face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Jin exclaims, bewildered by your unexpected attack, but offended nonetheless, “I’m smarter than you, at least!”

You shake your head while kindly reaching a hand up to stroke his handsome face, “God must have invested all his time in your face, and forgotten about your brain, you dumb son of a bitch.”

He sits up with indignation, “Look at who can’t even write a simple line of code! I do all your homework for you, you idiot! How dare you call me stupid when you couldn’t survive grad school without my help?! If I’m illiterate, then you’re—”

You cut him off with a rough kiss that momentarily takes his breath away.

Instantly, the anger slides off his face, replaced with something much softer. Jin slowly runs his tongue over his lips and looks up at you with dreamy, half-lidded eyes, “It’s not fair for you to kiss me like that when you want me to shut up… Especially when you know how I feel about you.”

You playfully flick his nose in response, “It’s not my fault that you’re too dumb to realize that I’ve been in love with you since our second year of uni.”

His subsequent reaction is so hilarious that you wished you thought to capture it on film. With his doe eyes bulging, jaw dropping, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, Jin looks like a clown or some kind of slapstick comedian and you can’t help but giggle at his reaction, “You’re so silly.”

That snaps him out of it, “Why am I the one who gets all the blame?!” He exclaims in indignation, “You’re just as dumb as me, if not more! Why would you insist that you weren’t attracted to me?! What did you expect?! For me to try to make a move, thinking that you would never reciprocate? If I’m dumb, then you literally have an IQ of fifty!”

“How am I dumber than you?” you gasp, “You can’t understand spoken language!”

“Yeah? Well you can’t talk!” he shoots back, “ ‘I deserve better.’ How did you expect someone to interpret such a vague statement?! How can you criticize someone for misunderstanding when you can’t even speak properly?!”

His neck is turning red with anger, the veins bulging and his eyes as wide as a frog’s. You open your mouth to berate him, but instead burst into laughter, “Oh my god,” you choke out between semi-hysterical sobs, “How am I in love with such a crazy madman?!”

He pauses at that, “Wait… you’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, dumbass. If you didn’t have the language comprehension skills of a seven-year-old, you’d realize that when I said ‘I deserve better,’ I meant that I wanted to mean more to you than just a hookup…”

He falls silent at that, mouth forming a perfect “O” of realization. “…That does make a lot more sense…”

“Yup…” And with that, you pull out your phone to rapidly type out a text message.

Jin looks at you with a pout, “Wow, you confessed your feelings not even a minute ago and you’re already on your phone! Is this what our future relationship will look like?!”

You glance up from your phone to shoot him a wry grin, “Calm down, you needy child. I’m just texting my friend who recently got licensed as a neuropsychologist. We’re getting tested for our first date,” you say as you affectionately ruffle his black bangs.

Jin’s eyebrows shoot up with surprise, “Why? You know we’re both clean—we literally had sex yesterday!”

“We’re not getting tested for that,” you chuckle, “I’m setting up an intelligence assessment… So I can prove that my IQ is higher than yours, once and for all!”

His jaw drops at that unexpected turn of things, “You’re insane!”

“Am I?” you shoot back, “Or are you just chicken?”

He shakes his head with reluctant amusement, “Fine. Let’s do this. But how are you going to explain to our future children that you brought their father to take a fucking IQ test to prove a point for their first date…? Whatever,” he says with a scoff, “Please hand me that dictionary on the coffee table.”

“…Future children?” you numbly repeat, even as you follow his instructions. Then you quickly snap yourself out of it, “Wait, what are you doing with that dictionary?”

“Studying up,” is his curt reply, “I have to beat you at the test to prove to you how dumb you really are.”

Gasping with indignation, you quickly drape yourself over his shoulders to ogle at the small print of the book in his hands, “You’re on, asshole!” And with that, you reach over him to rapidly flip through the dictionary, trying to disorient him while soaking in as much information as possible.

This whole situation is ridiculous. It’s unbelievably childish and you should be ashamed of this type of behavior at your age… Yet, when Jin briefly turns his head to press a kiss against your cheek before evilly blocking your view of the dictionary, you can’t help but smile. Because as immature and absurd as this situation may be, for some crazy reason it feels right.

“You’re also going to write Lei a heartfelt apology letter for your behavior,” you say with a little nip at his ear.

He stiffens at the reminder, his neck flushing with embarrassment, “Yes, of course. I’ll go and do it right now.”

But you stop him with a hand on his thigh, “It can wait until the morning,” you inform him, “But for now…” you rub your palm over the bulge forming down his left pant leg. “I promise I’ll be patient this time.”

Jin’s eyes are heavily dilated when he twists around on the couch to look at you, “You better,” he says in a quiet, rumbling voice, “Because this time, I intend on enjoying you.”

Your pulse quickens and liquid heat fills the pit of your stomach. Because for some reason, his words sound like a warning… “Yes, please,” you say in a hushed whisper, eyes as round as saucers.

“And this time, you wouldn’t dare accuse me of not reciprocating,” he murmurs, hot breath fanning across your face, “I’m going to eat you out until you fucking beg me to stop.”

“Oh God,” you croak, arousal dampening your underwear at the very thought.

“No,” he smirks, “Just call me ‘Jin’.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as you slowly process his lame joke. Then—“Oh my god, Jin!” You groan as you shove his face away from yours, “Way to ruin the mood, dumbass!”

“Wait, what? No! Come on, ___, you know that was hot!” he says, lowkey panicking as he tries to reach for him again.

You simply sigh as you situate yourself on the couch with your legs spread, “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just start eating me out so I don’t have to listen to your dumb dad jokes any longer.”

“Yah! How dare you?! I’ll have you know that hundreds—no, thousands of girls would have killed to—”

“Shut up and get to work,” you bark with a rough tug of his hair.

Chastened, he instantly drops to his knees, “…Yes ma’am!”

*********************************************************************************

Author’s Note: Please don’t ask me about any sequels or updates! This is solely a one-shot and will not be continued :) But I’d love any feedback!

#jin smut #seokjin smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #jin scenarios #jin scenario #i started writing this during my finals week #and i STILL remember how irritated i was!!!!#guys plz be respectful towards ur roommates!#also i apologize in advance for the crack nonsense in this fic #i cant even explain it myself lmao

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