#laid up sick at home on top of everything else. already felt gross and now im just sick and tired AND mad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

Fuck the context and the way you portrayed shinso in your brother fic of him was so hot. Can’t wait for him to become unhinged and not even care what his parents would think/if they’re home and just defile you whenever he wants bc he’s just that desperate

Prelude - gonna call this mess “FaMiLy BoNdInG” and bruh trust me it’s a mess but I tried so enjoy k gbye

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader X Shinsou

Prompt - at the top and combined with these two!

Warnings - psuedo-incest, NSFW, non con, dubcon, all the cons. Step dad Aizawa and step bro Shinsou are a force to be reckoned with. Mentions of DP at the end.

Music - I listened to https://open.spotify.com/track/1xFfbxmfenEpn4WawGWXiA?si=OUFp4ANsSR-6V_H187Eblw while writing even though it has NO relation to the fic spsosfnjsdhgsslfdn dead

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You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking soda and scrolling mindlessly on your phone when your stepbrother had come up behind you, looping his arms over your shoulders as he leaned down.

“Hey girlie, what’re you doing?”

“Nothin’.” You shifted, moving so his mouth was away from your ear, squirming uncomfortably.

There was a beat of silence, before Shinsou stood, his presence looming behind you like a harbinger of evil. “Come up to my room? I’m tired, wanna hold you.” You sighed, hunching your shoulders and curling in upon yourself. You knew it wasn’t a question, wasn’t a request that you could ignore or refuse. He was just giving you the illusion of having a choice. Well, you did have a choice; go with your brother willingly, or get dragged, risk him getting angry if you said you were feeling sick, get into a fight with the man that could pin you to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“Shinsou…. “

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for you to figure out how to beg for him to leave you be, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet with ease. You went limp, what else could you do?

The purple-haired man reached under your skirt, a modest, knee-length thing, wrenching your panties down with one hand. You squeezed your eyes shut when his hand brushed against your hip, when he eyed the panties clutched in his fist.

“Cute.”

Gross.

Then he was tugging you along, headed towards his room.

You were so tired.

Mind almost shutting down, you stumbled when the audible clanking of the garage door beginning to open could be heard.

Dad was home.

Wide eyed, you caught Shinsou’s equally-surprised gaze, the man in front of you tightening his grip on your arm. Without another word, his pace was quickened. Aizawa wasn’t supposed to get home until midnight, was supposed to be working late at the office.

Shinsou tugged you into his room, slammed the door shut, pushed you onto the bed. He had a sense of urgency; he was stressed, thrown off by the sudden and unexpected arrival of your father. “Gotta be quiet now, don’t want dad to hear us, right?”

You nodded, dazed, exhausted. Nothing had happened yet and you were already retreating inside your mind, resigning yourself to whatever your older brother was going to do today. He had said he wanted to cuddle, but that usually meant lazy sex while he hugged you, kissing your neck and falling asleep after making the both of you cum.

Without any preamble, the man climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to lay back. Then he was scrabbling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bralette and skirt. He kneeled between your legs, pulling your skirt up to mid thigh to give him more room to maneuver.

“Shinsou please don’t, dad’s-“

“Shhhh, just do what I say and you’ll be fine.”

Shinsou spat into his palm, the sound making you cringe as you thumbed at the soft blankets underneath you. He was unbuttoning his pants, shoving at his underwear until he could get his cock free. The man went quicker than usual as he slicked up his length with his spit, very much aware of the presence of someone else in the house.

At this point, Shinsou really didn’t care.

He had been fucking you for so long, pulling you aside for a quickie when your parents ran to the store, taking his time when they went away for a weekend, fucked you on the couch when they went out for date-night. Feeling particularly bold today, he barely thought to pause when your father had gotten home. Right now, he wanted to lay down with his little sister, fuck you until you fell asleep, and then cuddle with your pliant body. Dad home or not, he was determined.

Your skirt was pushed even further up your body, the material bunching at your waist so your stepbrother had unfettered access to your bare pussy. Clenching your eyes shut, you turned your head away as you felt Shinsou pull your hips into his lap so he could rub his cock against your folds. He hissed at the sensation, spitting into his hand again before reaching around his cock to smear his saliva onto your puffy slit, too impatient and hurried to properly prep you.

It was odd to see the purple haired man like this; usually he was very laid-back, slow and gathered in his movements. Right now he was rushing, pushing the tip of his cock slowly into your entrance when usually he would still be making you cry on his fingers. The stretch was immediate, almost burning, and your lungs tightened.

A hand reached up to cover your mouth, Shinsou’s thumb massaging your cheek as he hushed you. You grabbed onto his arm, not to pull him away (it would be useless, he was so much stronger than you), but to ground yourself, able to do nothing but hold onto the man causing you pain.

The sound of dishes clattering down in the kitchen had Shinsou’s hips bucking forward suddenly, filling you up, pressing too far, too soon. He swore lowly, hand tightening around your mouth as you let out a pained noise.

His hips stilled, the hand not at your mouth petting soothingly at your hip in an imitation of comfort. Funny, you thought - you wouldn’t need comfort if your stupid step brother could manage to keep his dick in his pants.

As the seconds passed, both of you aware of Aizawa down in the kitchen, your muscles slowly relaxed. The stretch burned less, felt more manageable. Still, you were entirely unprepared when Shinsou drew his hips back before rutting into you.

You screeched, the sound muffled by his hand but undeniably loud. Shinsou leaned over you, unwittingly pushing himself deeper as he tried to soothe you with his quiet “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

If you were able, you would scream that you weren’t. You weren’t okay, nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. The way his hips were twitching into you, the way he kissed your cheeks and thumbed away your tears. The pleasure that was sparking in your core, the fact that it was your stepbrother getting ready to pound you into the mattress.

He was thrusting smoothly now, cock drilling into you a a steady pace. You were getting wet, the slide easier and less painful, pleasure slowly filtering in. When Shinsou plucked at your clit, you squirmed, hips shamefully moving to meet his own. He started increasing the pace, breathing heavily as the two of you rocked together on the bed. Occasionally his bed creaked, the wood rubbing at the joints and squeaking.

On one hand, you hoped dad didn’t hear. On the other, you wished he would - that he’d come save you from his son.

You got a mockery of your wish.

“Kids?” Aizawa was walking up the stairs, the third step that always creaked whenever someone tread on it announcing his ascent.

“Shit.” Shinsou breathed, pulling out of you, manhandling you quickly. He threw back the covers of his bed, shoved you down, settled behind you. He didn’t have to tell you to be good - the taboo, disgustingly wrong nature of what he had been doing was too embarrassing for you to reveal to your stepfather. Accusing his biological son of assaulting you? Raping you? Would dad even believe you? You didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t.

Dad knocked as Shinsou pulled the covers up, covering your state of undress. You knew your bralette straps were still visible, and Shinsou still had his shirt on. It would probably just look like the two of you had been napping, but then again, it would still seem odd. Whenever your parents were home you stayed as far away from your brother as possible - you weren’t one to just go cuddle with him.

The door creaked open, and your dad peered in. You were so embarrassed, half-naked and utterly humiliated underneath the covers. You didn’t know what to feel or what to do, frozen in fear and indecision.

“Hey dad, need something?” Shinsou rumbled from behind you, voice steady and monotoned.

Light eyes scanned the room, before settling on you and your brother. Aizawa gave you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be in here, before his eyes shifted to the man behind you. “Wanted to let you know I’m home. Mom won’t be back until late, do you two have any specific requests for dinner?”

Shinsou shifted closer to you, so close that you could feel his rapidly beating heart through the warm flesh of his chest.

“Nah, we’re fine with whatever.”

Aizawa nodded, giving you one more confused glance. Maybe he could tell something was up? You felt like you couldn’t breathe. As the dark-haired man turned, obviously moving to shut the door and head back down to the kitchen, Shinsou was pushing his cock into you, his heart trying to beat out of his chest against your back.

Before you could stop yourself, you were whimpering.

“Dad….”

Shinsou froze as Aizawa turned back, stepping further into the room. You were quiet, tears budding at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t make yourself utter another word, completely unsettled at the situation. What were you supposed to do? You wanted him to save you, but you didn’t know how to ask. Your stepfather was studying you, was waiting for you to say something more. His gaze was flickering between you tearful eyes, your bralette straps visible above the blanket, the position you and Shinsou were in. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

All three of you were silent, the moment seeming to stretch on forever.

You were so tired.

Breaking the stillness, Aizawa took another step into the room, brows slowly drawing down as the realization dawned upon him.

“Shinsou.” HIs voice was low, he rolled his son’s name in his mouth quietly, almost hesitantly. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your brother’s cock was still inside you.

“I was tired. (Y/N)’s cuddling with me, she was telling me about a dog she saw-“ Aizawa snorted, arms crossing as he took another step towards the bed. “Nice try. Don’t lie to me. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Shinsou was silent behind you, his heart beating loud and fast against your back.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” His voice was softer as he asked you, throaty still - but softer. The tears clouding your vision finally flooded, streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Please… I....” You couldn’t formulate the words, mortification surrounding your body, Shinsou’s hand squeezing bruises into your hip. It was too much. You wished you had never existed, that none of this had happened.

Unable to get an answer out of either of you, Aizawa strode forward, grabbed the covers, ripped them off the bed and dumped them in a heap.

You sobbed.

Both men were silent as you cried fat tears, embarrassed at being revealed, gratification at dad finally discovering the awfulness you had been subjected to these past few months.

Shinsou thrust his hips further into your warmth.

You choked, eyes snapping up to Aizawa. Shinsou was supposed to stop the second the two of were caught. He wasn’t supposed to keep going. Why wasn’t dad saying anything? Telling Shinsou to get off of you, get out of the house? Why wasn’t he calling the police? Why wasn’t he pulling your skirt down, trying to preserve your modesty?

The man was staring at the mess between your legs, Shinsou’s cock sliding in and out of you as you sobbed. Aizawa was breathing a bit heavier, his face, stance, demeanor no longer angry.

Dread filled your bones, settled like hot glue.

“Can you see how wet she is? She’s dripping.” Shinsou prodded, Aizawa frozen in place, mouth dry as he watched. “She’s always so warm inside, feels so nice.“

He was egging Aizawa on, seizing the moment and capturing his dad’s hesitance, manipulating it. You let out a whine as Shinsou’s pace picked up, cock beginning to hammer into your pussy. The purple haired man looped an arm underneath your thigh, hefting it into the air to allow Aizawa a better view.

“Doesn’t she sound so sweet? She tastes just as good, feels even better.” He was breathing heavily now, as he rutted into your warmth. Dropping your thigh, Shinsou reached for your clit, trapping the nub between his fingers and flicking at it. You cried out, your own hips squirming in indecisiveness , unable to choose between puling away or pushing back into the delicious sensation. It didn’t take much more to have you cumming.

Shinsou grunted as your walls squeezed around his cock, giving a few more frantic thrusts before he shot his load deep within your cunt, hips twitching as he worked through his own orgasm

You watched Aizawa sit down on the bed, close to your knees.

“How long?” He sounded strained. Shinsou shrugged, still panting.

Aizawa’s rough hand rested on your knee, his flat eyes closing as he paused. “Get up.”

The command wasn’t directed at you, but at your brother. Somehow, you didn’t think it would end up with your stepdad kicking his son out of the house.

Shinsou seemed to think the same as he pulled out, uncaring to the way you flinched as his cock dragged against your sensitive walls. He was silent as he shuffled to the end of the bed, tucking his dick back into his pants.

Aizawa grabbed your ankle and in one smooth move, dragged you to him. You squeaked at the sudden movement, eyes wide as you watched Aizawa look you up and down. The front of his slacks were tented.

He pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest, turning so the both of you faced Shinsou who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“Does he make you feel good?” The older man’s stubble was scratchy against your cheek. You didn’t know where this was going, felt so lost and bad and sick.

“Sometimes…”

It was impossible to lie. You knew if you did, Shinsou would cut in, tell his father how he made you cum everytime. How most of the time, you were screaming in pleasure before he would even take his pants off.

Looking at the floor, you missed the look between father and son.

“He touch you here?” You gasped as a large hand grasped at your chest through your bralette. Aizawa’s hands were bigger than his son’s, rougher and more confident in their touch.

“Yes.”

“What about-“ tears streamed down your face as the hand slid further, over your tummy, over the fabric of your skit, down to your abused, sensitive cunt. “-Here?”

“Please stop, please.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, let his hand rest over the top of your pussy, feel his son’s cum slowly leaking out. “Shinsou, come here.”

The purple-haired man obeyed, stepping closer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed when Aizawa motioned for him to do so.

“Clean up your sister.”

You weren’t too surprised. It shouldn’t have been hard to see where Shinsou had learned his nasty little tricks from. Still, it hurt your heart, struggling in your step-dad’s lap as he held you in place.

Shinsou was smiling, leaning forward to shove his face in-between your thighs, chuckling when you yelped as he tongued over your hole. You used your hands to shove at his head, pull at his hair, but he caught them in his grip. They were pulled down by your sides, where Shinsou held them still.

“No, no! Stop! You can’t, no—dad!!” You were sobbing, pleading as Shinsou continued his assault on your cunt, licking out his own cum from your insides. Aizawa was holding your legs, keeping you spread-eagled and open.

“I’m not a good guy (Y/N), neither of us are.” His hardness was rubbing up against your back as you squirmed. “And from now on, you call me daddy.” “No! I won’t, let me go!” You thrashed, putting all your energy into loosing the iron grip holding your legs. Shinsou pulled back, licking his lips as he glanced up at his father.

“She was like this when I first had her. Mouthy little thing, still hasn’t learned proper manners.” He didn’t wait for Aizawa to respond, leaning back forward to continue slurping at your swollen lips.

“That’s alright, she’ll learn… I am a teacher after all.”

You wanted to vomit. You went limp, sobbing raggedly in Aizawa’s arms - completely demoralized and humiliated. There was no use fighting when Shinsou had been hurting you. Now with two fully grown men focused on you? Forget about it.

Aizawa was quiet as Shinsou worked you up to an orgasm, the only sound besides your crying the wet, squishy lapping of Shinsou’s tongue suckling at your pussy. When he switched his focus to your clit, you wheezed, jolting in place as his tongue started laving over the little bud rapidly, quickly throwing you higher and higher and-

You wailed through your second orgasm, almost unable to breathe.

Moments passed before you were able to calm yourself, ugly-crying and begging the two men to please, please leave you alone. Please leave, don’t touch you.

If you weren’t numb from your orgasm, you would feel sick.

“Shinsou, where’s your lube?”

Purple hair bounced as your brother cocked his head, still kneeling between your legs. “She doesn’t need lube, she’s soaking wet.”

“She’s gonna need it if we’re both going to fit.”

Neither man seemed to be able to hear your panicked pleas, too excited about prepping you to take both of them together.

What an awful attempt at family bonding.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere aizawa shouta #creepy aizawa #stepbro #stepbrother #stepfather #step dad #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #noncon tw #yandere shinso x reader #yandere aizawa

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hawksky · 3 years ago

Text

You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k

A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.

CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.

Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.

Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.

A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.

It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.

“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.

As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.

“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.

His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.

“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.

“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”

It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.

As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.

As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –

Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.

“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”

So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.

“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.

“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”

You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.

This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.

He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.

“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.

He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.

You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.

You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.

You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.

Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.

You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.

As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.

Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.

As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.

Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?

You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.

Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.

The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.

Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.

“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.

There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.

You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I’ve just kept everyone from looking”.

“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.

“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.

Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.

“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”

“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.

“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”

Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”

not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle

#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #megumi fushiguro angst #megumi fushiguro fic #jujutsu kaisen fics #im so bad at tagging yall i never know what works or what people use sos #megumi fushiguro x y/n #i give up ok bye

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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First Time - John B Routledge

Request: Could you write a John b imagine where y’all have been dating for a while and he wants to take the next step in the relationship (do the dirty lol) but he doesn’t know your a virgin so you distance yourself from him a little bit and he’s all worried that he did something wrong. But when he asks kie she tells him that his gf is a virgin and is afraid she won’t be good enough and live up to his past hookups. You finally tell him and then y’all do it (smut?) and it’s all cute/romantic/fluffy. 

A/N: Smut.

Outer Banks Masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You and John B had a ‘full disclosure’ relationship. He didn’t want any secrets and neither did you. In theory it was a great idea, in practice it was a little harder to manage. And it wasn’t so much that you were keeping a secret from him as you were just withholding information that was immediately important to the future of your relationship. 

In other words, John B had been dropping hints that he wanted to have sex but he didn’t know that you were a virgin. It would have been one thing if you weren’t ready, you would’ve told him outright that you didn’t want to have sex yet, it was too soon, but the truth was you were ready. You had been together for the better part of a year, longer than any of your friends had waited to have sex and you were still not there yet. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex, I mean, I think about it all the time. I was thinking about it earlier today when we were out surfing.” Not knowing which else to talk to you’d unloaded all your feelings about John B on Kiara. Who was understanding and interested, to a point. 

“Gross. Now I’m just gonna think about you thinking about having sex with John B every time we’re together.” Kiara pointed out. 

“Well I am! And can you blame me. I have a super hot boyfriend and I know he’s had sex before!” 

“Have you not?” 

“No.” You had dated a few guys before but either the relationship didn’t last long enough or you weren’t comfortable enough with them to want to take the next step. “I don’t want it to be some thing where it’s just cause everyone else is and then we break up three days later.” 

All in all the only step you saw as an option moving forward was avoidance. Full disclosure was fine when the thing you had to tell him didn’t set you back in experience. You’d heard JJ talk about different escapades of his own and John B always seemed to joke and laugh about them as if he had done all the same things. And you knew how wild pogue parties got sometimes, you’d been to them before John B had gotten together with you and could remember wishing secretly that you could be bold enough to fully take part. You knew girls flirted with him and anyone of them was probably ten times more experienced than you. 

Even Kiara was more experienced than you. Not that you were entirely surprised by that. You were pretty sure everyone had already gotten that first awkward time out of the way so they could actually enjoy sex. But not you. You wanted it to mean something, even if it was awkward, and you wanted your second time to be with the same person. 

Which was never going to happen because you avoided John B like the plague when you realized what he wanted. You avoided him until he made it impossible to avoid him any longer. 

It was on a Friday night, when you were home alone watching reruns of a Disney Channel show that you were too old for and attempting to finish a pizza by yourself when he showed up, banging at the door. Everyone was supposed to be down at the boneyard for a party that you claimed to be too sick to go to. In truth, you didn’t want to see John B and figured the best way to do that was to stay home. 

Except, of course, he knew where you lived and he was a good enough boyfriend to know something was the matter. 

You stood staring for a full five seconds before you said anything and then it only consisted of, “what are you doing here?” Not the most intelligent of ways to start a conversation with someone you’d been avoiding. 

“Look I don’t know if you’re trying to breakup with me or something. I talked to Kiara and she said I needed to talk to you so if that’s it then just get it over with, please?” John B said, standing in the doorway looking desperate. 

He’d been racking his brain for weeks trying to figure out why you had suddenly started pulling away. John B was sure everything was fine. You told each other everything so what was going on that you felt like you couldn’t tell him all of the sudden. 

“I’m not trying to break up with you.” You said, though that would’ve been the easy way out. If you didn’t break up with each other than he would never know that you were a virgin...an elaborate scheme in which neither party got what they wanted but you had been watching a lot of kids tv until just now. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You let him come inside, shutting the door and moving passed him into the living room to clean up. You were embarrassed enough that he had shown up, he didn’t need to witness your attempts at eating your feelings. 

“I don’t understand what happened,” he admitted, “did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s not...it’s me.” You sighed, dropping the pizza box back onto the coffee table, full disclosure your only option, “I know we said we’d tell each other everything but I was avoiding you cause I didn’t want you to find out that I’m a virgin.” 

“That’s it?”

“John B! It’s a big deal.”

“Okay yes sorry, but if that’s it, if you feel like I’ve been pressuring you-“ he immediately thought of all the times in the past weeks that he’s hinted toward wanting to have sex and suddenly couldn’t help worrying that he’d come off as pushy and impatient when he hadn’t meant to be. 

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me. I want to I just...you’re more experienced than me and I thought if you knew, if you saw that I was inexperienced you’d not want to be with me.” And you really didn’t want to die a virgin. 

“I don’t care about that. I mean, I do...care about you feeling comfortable and safe but not about whether or not you’re a virgin.” John B said, “I may have experience with other girls but not with you. This is new for both of us.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at his words, “you’re so cheesy sometimes.” 

John B rolled his eyes at you. “How about we just take things slow, watch tv or something? Nothing has to happen tonight.” 

You knew that was true but you weren’t exactly committed to the tv. “Can we watch TV in my room? I’ll just clean up?” You offered. 

“Of course,” John B headed down the hall to your bedroom while you fixed the living room and put the pizza in the kitchen 

You weren’t wearing the cutest ensemble in the world but it would do. John B had seen you in worse than your tie dye pyjama set. In your room John B had taken the clothes off your bed and thrown them onto your desk chair. Though neither of you had expressly said you were going to do anything other than watch movies together it was obvious that neither of you cared to bother with movies. 

“Do you remember when I told you the cheesiest thing you had ever done was fake breaking down and then producing a fully prepared picnic for us to star gaze in that field?” You asked, leaning against the door frame of your bedroom, arms crossed under your chest.

“I remember that you told me it was romantic.” He said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, pocketing the lighter he’d used to light the candles on your nightstand, desk, and bookshelf. 

“Romantic, cheesy, this definitely takes the cake.” You replied, walking over to him. You stood between his legs and put your hands on his shoulders, the nervous energy you’d had around him lately bursting into butterflies in your stomach as you leaned down to kiss him. 

This was really happening. 

John B wrapped his arm around your waist and used his other arm to pull himself back further on the bed as you climbed onto his lap. Your hands went in his hair, tugging at the ends of his curls as you kissed him. You kept telling yourself that you’d done this a million times, there were multiple scenarios in which the two of you made out in your room. The only difference this time was that you didn’t want to stop him when he pulled your shirt over your head.

The heat, coupled with the fact that you had been totally alone watching TV and eating pizza meant you had forgone wearing a bra, something you thought was totally obvious but that John B clearly wasn’t expecting. He’d been eying your chest when he pulled your top off but he snapped back up to look at you when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You can look.” You laughed, jokingly taking his face between your hands and tilting it down toward your chest. “but don’t just look.”

He glanced back up at you, leaning forward and kissing you briefly before he looked back down at your chest hands moving up your sides gently fondling your breasts.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, kissing you one more time.

His thumbs ran over your nipples, still a little soft, fingers pressing into the soft skin. He leaned his head forward and your arms draped over his shoulders again, tilting your head and back just enough to give him full access to you.

John B kissed your neck, lips trailing down your skin. He laid a chaste kiss in between your breasts before he turned his attention to the left side first. His tongue darted out, tracing a circle around your nipple before closing his mouth over it. The sensation made you arch your back more, pushing yourself into him. You rolled your hips the way you’d seen girls do before, grinding against him. His right hand gripped your hip suddenly, maybe a little too forcefully, and you leaned forward again, hands gripping his shoulders.

Without warning you pushed him back on the bed, his head just missing the wall that your bed was pushed up against and his eyes went wide. You climbed off his lap, taking a tentative breath and reminding yourself that this was John B and he loved you.

“Holy shit,” his voice came out as a whisper when you pushed your shorts and underwear down at the same time, stepping out of them and standing, totally naked, in front of him. It took all of three seconds before he was sliding off the bed and guiding you back to it.

“What are you doing?” You laughed and he pushed you to lie down, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Eating you out, if that’s okay with you?” He said, pulling his shirt over his head, “it’ll help you not hurt as much the first time.”

“Can’t say no to that.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as John B dropped to his knees at the edge of your bed. He kissed your left knee and then your right before lifting your legs over his shoulders.

He started on the left side, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on the skin there as he made his way toward the apex of your legs. As he got closer you shifted, moving yourself toward him ever so slightly. He wound one arm up and laid it across your waist, pushing you into the bed. “Stay still baby,” as he spoke his lips brushed across the soft skin where your thigh met your center. John B hovered for a moment over your core, breath fanning out over you and making you shiver slightly.

“John B...” you whined, both annoyed and aroused by the slow pace that he was keeping.

He shushed you, playfully nipping the skin of your right knee and you dropped your head against the bed at the feeling of him so far away from where you needed him.

“John,” you stretched your right arm out, brushing through his hair before gathering a section in your hand and yanking just enough to get his attention, “you’re going so slow.”

“I’m savoring the moment,” he replied, laying his cheek against your thigh, stopping altogether.

“Savor faster.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, your legs bouncing slightly, before he leaned forward and licked up to your clit, sucking it between his lips. You smacked your hand against the bed before gripping the comforter in your free hand, the feeling of his mouth on you more than you had ever experienced. He swirls his tongue around your clit once more and then slowly drags his teeth against the sensitive nub, smiling when you sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered.

John B licks over your clit again and the hand you have in his hair tightens as you try to push him closer to you. He let go of his grip on your leg and without warning, slips his finger inside you. A series of ‘oh my gods’ falls from your lips as he slow pulls out, only to add a second finger. He continues to suck your clit as he pushes his fingers in and out, angling them up as he did. You don’t last long, when he bites down on your clit again you clench around his fingers and cry out, coming hard. John B licks and kisses you as you come off your high, unable to stop the smile that crosses his face as you spasm around his fingers when he pulls them out.

Trying to catch your breath you pick your head up to look at him, still kneeling between your legs. His eyes meet yours and he pops his fingers in his mouth, licking your cum off them and grinning at you as he does. His lips and chin are glistening slightly in the candlelight of your bedroom and as cheesy as you told him it was before you’re incredibly turned on right now.

“Do you want to keep going?” John B asks, carefully shifting your legs off his shoulders, kissing each of your thighs. He stands up, waiting for your signal to keep going with the night.

“I swear to god if you stop now-” you said, still somewhat dazed as you looked up at him.

He nods and undoes his pants, sliding them down his legs first, pushing them and his socks off at the ankles before looking back at you. He kneels onto the bed beside you, slipping one arm beneath your legs and the other beneath your head before he shifts you so your head is laying at the top of the bed. You let out a surprised squeak as you were moved, grabbing his arm to steady yourself.

“Sorry, just want you to be comfortable.” He apologizes, pressing a kiss to your lips. The kiss is saltier than before and you realize your tasting yourself on him. You poke your tongue out, running along his lower lip before taking it between your teeth and tugging gently.

Once he pulled away from the kiss he stood again, slipping off his underwear before moving onto the bed, resting between your legs. His eyes closed and he bit his lip, groaning as his dick slipped between your folds. John B rolled his hips, pressing himself further against you, brushing your clit as he did. You grabbed his shoulders in surprise, pulling him closer.

“Please John B, I need you,” you begged, lips brushing against his ear.

He held himself up his elbow using his other hand to pull one of your hands away from his shoulders. He guided both your hand and his between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his dick. You ran your hand up and down, fingers a little loose around him but he didn’t seem to mind, eyes closing again as his hand tightened on your wrist.

“That feels amazing,” he muttered, pressing kisses along your neck and collar.

“Should I-”

“I won’t last,” he admitted, moving his hand back to cover yours. He opened his eyes, looking right at you as he helped you guide him inside of you. He pressed in slowly, watching you for any sign of discomfort. His fingers laced with yours and he pressed your hand into the bed above your head, leaning down to kiss you as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. “I love you,” he said, kissing along your jaw.

“I love you too.” You said, tilting your head to catch his mouth in another kiss.

Slowly, John B began to move his hips against yours, pressing kisses against your neck as he did. You moaned, nails pressing into his back at the feeling of him sliding out and back in. He picked up the pace, sucking a bruise into the skin of your neck. He released your other hand, moving his hand down between your bodies and pressing his thumb against your clit. Your nails dug in more and you practically screamed as felt yourself coming again so quickly. John B thrust faster, pushing himself over the edge just after you, not lasting nearly as long as he usually did. The feeling of being with you for the first time too much for him.

As you caught your breath, he pressed kisses against you collar and the top of your breasts. He pulled out slowly, savoring the feeling of you spasming around him as he did, your eyes shut tight and your breathing labored. He kissed you one last time before he rolled over, laying beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his side and running his free hand along your stomach, feeling your muscles tense and then relax under his touch.

You hummed, smiling at him, eyes clouded in a haze. “Amazing.”

“Good,” he kissed you. “I love you.”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @jjmaybankswife @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @copper-boom

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

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BTS Reaction | Imagine [Song] [Request]

A/N: Based on Imagine ~ Ariana Grande

Seokjin: ~ Knew You Were Perfect After The First Kiss Took A Deep Breath Like, Ooh. (Character name for show - Sana - but Y/n is play sana just so there isn’t any confusion)

You had been nervous throughout the shooting of the last month. You were cast in a drama which wasn't a big normally a big deal but it was your co-star that was making you uneasy.

"Y/n you're on in five minutes," One of the female directors said as she came to the styling station, you nodded and let the stylist finish your makeup before going to change into the outfit. It was the biggest scene that you were shooting today, a big kissing scene that was going to be on camera for all to see.

"You're nervous about the kiss?" The outfit stylist asked when she noticed you pulling at the sleeves of the characters hoodie, you stopped what you were doing and sighed.

"That obvious?" She nodded at you and you groaned looking over your shoulder to see your co-star - The Kim Seokjin - walking over to set while holding the script. You'd worked together amazingly so far and the chemistry on-screen reflected what was happening off-screen too you were just two close friends.

"It's just a kiss..." You turned back to the stylist with a worried expression on your face, it wasn't just a kiss. It was standing out under a hosepipe while they made ''rain'' fall down on you while you screamed at him, well at his character.

"Everyone on set!" You sighed and looked at your hands trying to remember all of your lines but all that was flooding your mind was the thought of going out there and kissing Jin. Who was just as equally as nervous as you but he was better at hiding it after the years of touring the world and singing in front of thousands of people at a time.

"Action!" The water turned on and you were already soaking wet as you walked down the small street that was in the studio,

"Sana!" Jin's character screamed after you and you shook your head spinning around dramatically and coming face to face with him, you were panting and staring up into his eyes.

"What?! What could you possibly tell me that will make all of this better!" You screamed at him and he searched through your eyes for dramatic effect,

"Exactly! You can't! Just leave me alone!" You turned around to leave once again but his hand gripped onto your wrist,

"You can't walk home, you'll get sick." He whispered but you snatched your hand away from him,

"What do you care?!" Your character was supposed to be upset and hurt so you were doing everything to channel that into your speech, he swallowed harshly and looked at the floor as you walked away.

"Sana!" You span around and he rushed over to your his hands holding both of your arms in place as he bent down to kiss you and it was as if you were no longer acting in the drama. It was the drama, everything around you seemed to fade away as he kissed you, and it was as if you heard music playing. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck to drawer him closer and his arms wrapped around your waist so he could hold you better.

"And cut!" You both pulled apart and looked at one another,

"Whoa." You whispered holding your hand up to your lips as you realised that the kiss was the best kiss you'd ever had in your life.

"Take five everyone!" The director called out and Jin stared at you trying to think of something to say while you looked down at the floor.

"That was...that was something." He chuckled reaching out to touch your hand, you felt sparks run start at your fingertips and slowly make their way up your entire body setting everything on fire as they went.

"It really was," You whispered back to him and he chuckled at how nervous you had gotten all of a sudden.

"I'd love to do that again-"

"Well, I'm sure they'll make us reshoot it-" His laughing made you stop talking and he shook his head at you,

"No, I want to do it outside of work...Maybe take you out sometime and get a meal?" Your heart raced at the thought of him asking you out and all you could manage to do was nod gormlessly making him chuckle a little more.

"I'll talk later, go and get changed before you get sick." He ran his thumb over your cheek and you nodded once again walking in the direction of the changing rooms still at a loss for words at what had just happened.

Yoongi: ~ We Go Like Up Til I’m Sleep On Your Chest, Love How My Face Fits So Good In Your Neck

Yoongi and you were spread out on the bed just laying together and spending all the time you could together since you didn't get to do this that often it was a nice break to be together. Alone for the first time in months since he'd been busy with the comeback, the boys and then with shows. This was the time you could fall asleep and not have to worry about not having him in your arms the next morning. Not that there was a lot of sleeping right now anyway, you were always busy with something else to sleep.

"We should go stargazing sometime," He said out of nowhere while he was holding your hand while you laid your face in his neck. He was playing with your fingers like a child with a fidget toy but you loved it, you loved that he would just hold you this comfortable and you could say nothing but just lay there for hours together.

"Stargazing we shall do then," You whispered back to him suddenly feeling the effects of the day coming back to you. You were out in a snow cabin for the week, he really wanted to get away from all kinds of distractions so he'd kidnapped you and had taken you hostage never wanting to give you back.

"I mean it when we go back to Seoul...We should start it," You hummed moving your head so you could lay it on his chest and he smiled drawing patterns up and down your bare back as you tried to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed and it brought back the harsh reality that it was going to be like that again soon, you got out of the bed and went to the kitchen to see Yoongi making breakfast pancakes.

"Morning baby," He greeted but you groaned and sat down on the kitchen counter, pouring yourself a coffee and drinking from the mug.

"It's so early, why are you so happy this early?" You grumbled and he chuckled coming over to you and kissing you, but you pushed him away because of your morning breath.

"I stink-"

"I don't care, I love you." You giggled tiredly at him and he smirked going back to finishing the pancakes off for you both.

"I took another week off...I want us to go somewhere else together, somewhere a little warmer." You stared at the back of his head as he cooked in silence,

"Another week? Yoongi you-"

"I love my job I know but I love you more and I want to spend time with you." You hummed and he took hold of your hand as he left the pancake to cook on one side.

"I love you too Yoongi." You giggled kissing him on the forehead not wanting to kiss his lips, your breath was still gross and the coffee wasn't helping it.

"I'll go brush my teeth." You jumped down from the counter and rushed off in the direction of the bathroom.

Hoseok: ~ Quick, Quick, Quick, Let’s Go. Kiss Me and Take Off Your Clothes

The award ceremony venue was huge and you felt so out of place there. You were a new solo idol that was up for their first couple of awards,

"You look define." You heard a voice say from behind you, you turned around to see your brothers best friend Jungkook say you laughed shaking your head at him and going over for a hug.

"How are you feeling?" You looked at him as he asked you about to answer when the rest of your brother's group came over. Namjoon patted the top of your head as a greeting and you scoffed at him,

"She's nervous, heard her practising in the bathroom all week," Namjoon said making them all laugh. Your eyes landed on Hoseok standing in his suit and it made you yearn for him, you hadn't seen one another in two months since you were both busy with comeback season and awards. He was your secret boyfriend and had been for the last six months but it was hard to see him alone since you were Namjoon's sister and you had your own idol life to maintain,

"You look amazing," He whispered as you all began walking to find your seat his hand graced the back of your dress and you whimpered at the feeling of him being that close to you.

"You alright?!" Namjoon panicked and you nodded lying that you were just nervous about being up on stage to present one of the awards while Hoseok smirked to himself going to his seat between Namjoon and Yoongi.

The night was finally over and you were pulling Hoseok through the hall of your hotel, desperate for him. The rest of the boys were still trying to make their way back from the venue.

"Quick," You whined as he was slowly teasing you trying to take off your dress,

"I need you Hoseok." You panted and he smirked pushing you down onto the bed not bothering to take off the dress, there were too many buttons and strings for him so he bunched it up at your waist while you unbuttoned his shirt.

"We don't have long," He whispered to you as you began kissing down his neck and then sucking on his collarbone just a little - not enough to leave markings like you'd been dying to all night -

"I don't want to tease you, baby," He whispered running his hand up and down your thigh making you hiss at him,

"Liar, it's all you've done all night." He chuckled darkly at the memories, he'd switched places with Jungkook and had started running his hands up and down your leg all night, breathing close to your ear and whispering to you because he knew it killed you when he did that.

"But you aren't innocent yourself, ''accidentally'' brushing your hand on me and what was that with the ice cube?" He grunted remembering how you'd taken an ice cube into your mouth letting it melt and swallowing it before telling him you wanted to go home and drag an ice cube down his body.

"I didn't know you were into ice play baby," You giggled but he wasn't in the mood for games and neither were you, he kissed you roughly and you moaned out as he ground himself down again you.

Namjoon: ~ Me with No Makeup, You In The Bathtub. Bubbles and bubbly, Ooh

Namjoon had taken you to Venice to celebrate your recent wedding together, the night before had been perfect and now you were waking up together tucked in his arms.

"Morning beautiful," He whispered kissing your cheek, you looked at him and he was sitting up against the headboard with a book in his hands catching up on all of the reading he didn't get to do much of back home with the boys and work.

"What are you reading?" You asked tiredly and he shook his head closing the book and putting it down on the bedside table,

"Nothing. I'm going to run a bath," You hummed and he kissed you on the lips not caring about morning breath. You'd been together long enough that it no longer bothered you anymore, you laid on the sheets for a couple of minutes staring out of the balcony doors at the sunlight. It was beautiful outside and you couldn't wait to go out and explore the city together as a newly married couple. You lifted your hand up so you could stare at the ring again before getting up from the bed and going into the bathroom. Namjoon was sat in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles.

"We've got this from last night," He laughed looking at the bottle of champagne that had gone unnoticed. You were too focussed on other things to even look for anything the hotel had done for you, except the bed. When you first came into the room the bed had a heart made of rose petals sitting on it, as well as a cake sitting beside the table with your names on it, they'd gone all out for you it was beautiful.

"It's like our own resort." You laughed pouring some of the champagne into glasses before going to the minibar for some orange juice to make mimosa's for you both.

"You look amazing," Namjoon said as your head laid back down against his chest, you were both sitting together in the huge bubble bath,

"Don't, I don't have makeup on-" He kissed your exposed shoulder and shook his head at you.

"I love you without makeup, you always look perfect to me." You giggled at how cheesy he was being,

"You love me?" You teased,

"I mean I hope or do, why else would I have married you?" He chuckled wrapping his arms around you and bringing you to lean back closer to him.

"I love you too." You whispered closing your eyes and relaxing against him as you thought about the rest of your honeymoon together.

"We have the rest of the morning off you know...We don't have anything planned until late this afternoon," You hummed and he began kissing your neck sucking on the skin as he took the glass from your hand and placed it on the edge of the bathtub,

"I have a lot planned for us, Mrs Kim." He whispered turning you around so you were facing him now and sitting on his lap.

"Oh I think I know what you have planned Mr Kim." You giggled kissing him roughly, putting your hands in his hair and tugging lightly on the strands of his hair so he would let out a strangled moan.

Jimin: ~ Step up, the two of us, nobody knows us. Get in the car like ‘skrrt’

This was all Jimin's idea, get in the car and don't stop driving until you hit somewhere where no one would know who you and he were and why you had run away. Where you could just be alone and have no one bother you for the next week of his break. The first week had been a whirlwind filled with scandals and your relationship being outted by greedy media companies all using their own greed to exploit you both and practically ruin your reputation, you were an artist like Jimin and had started dating at the start of last year.

"It's like a ghost town," You whispered as you and Jimin walked around the small beach town hand in hand, it was pitch black but most of the shops were shut and boarded up and any that were open had one or two people sitting inside too bothered with their own lives to worry about your problems.

"A rose for the beautiful lady?" You jumped up in the air as a man appeared out of nowhere holding a rose out, Jimin paid him for the rose and watched him walk away without a single thought to who he was or what you were doing here.

"I might have to move here," You giggled walking with Jimin through the small streets and taking in the sights of everything around you, it felt amazing to be somewhere and not have to worry about who was following you or taking your picture without you knowing.

"You're sure no one followed us right?" You questioned as Jimin walked you down to the beachfront, it was more of a cove. Hidden away from everyone who didn't look close enough, Jimin sat you down on the sand and sat beside you linking your hands together.

"Noone knows where we are, not even the boys." He assured you making you relax, your head leant on his shoulder as you looked out at the sea.

The whole world felt silent and peaceful for the first time in a week, no one was screaming questions at you and demanding answers about why you had hidden the relationship. Noone was begging you to do brand deals or following you to your apartment to get a glimpse of your life.

"Jimin." You whispered poking his chin as you woke up, you must have fallen asleep together in the night before now the small cove was starting to gather a small collection of people all of them minding their own business as you slept.

"Hmm?" He moaned tiredly as he gripped you closer to him, it was the best night sleep he had gotten in months and he didn't want it to be over just yet.

"Excuse me, dear, if you'd like there's a small hotel just up the right in an old lighthouse, they serve the most amazing breakfast." An elderly lady said as she helped you up from the sand, you brushed yourself off and thanked her before poking Jimin in the side with your foot.

"I want breakfast Jiminie." You whined out and he groaned sitting up and rubbing his eyes,

"Just like my husband, not a morning person." She shifted so you could see an elderly man sitting on a fishing chair half asleep with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Thank you again," You told her before you and Jimin went off to find the hotel together walking hand in hand once again and not caring about anything except spending time together. It felt perfect and you never wanted to change it though you knew it would come to an end soon you were going to live it up as much as you could for now.

Taehyung: ~ Feels like forever, baby I never thought that it would be you

"I feel stupid." You whined as you looked down at the dress you were being forced to wear for your cousin's wedding, she had you wearing a neon green bridesmaid dress complete with a silly hat to go along with it.

"You look wonderful, now go out there and knock them dead." You rolled your eyes at your mother's attempts to make this whole day feel better but it wasn't going to work, you were in a dress that looked like it could be spotted by aliens in space.

"Go!" The music started and you started walking down the aisle holding the matching green bouquet of flowers that she was forcing you to hold, you faked a smile knowing this day was for her and not you. You could go home and change once this was all over. Everything was going fine until you looked up to see Taehyung standing at the alter looking at you. A green tie to match your green dress and a giant smile on his face as he noticed that it was you walking towards him. You hadn't seen him in years and then all of a sudden he was right there smiling at you,

"Please be seated." The vicar said to everyone in the church, you and Taehyung held eye contact the entire ceremony while your cousin and her boyfriend got married.

"So it was you," He chuckled coming up to you later that night on the dance floor, he span you around and brought you into his arms.

"It feels like forever since I saw you," He laughed placing your arms around his neck so he could sway with you to the slow music that was playing.

"Seven years? I think." You giggled still finding hard to believe that he was standing right in front of you, he had been one of your best friends growing up but he went off to become the famous Kim Taehyung that everybody loved.

"It's a long time," He sighed looking away from you and he began glancing around the room with his brows furrowed together.

"What is it?" You asked as he turned your around, spinning you out and then bringing you back into his arms.

"I don't see you with anyone here." You made an acknowledgement noise and he hummed wondering why you were alone.

"You see, the one I wanted to bring as my date was already here and wearing a disgustingly bright green tie." He blushed as you flirted with him, it was as if the seven years apart hadn't even happened. You were still flirting with one another as though it was some big game though you both knew there was something more between you.

"Ah, I see." He laughed dipping you down and staring into your eyes,

"The one I wanted to bring was already here too and she's in an equally disgusting dress." You gasped acting offended as he brought you back up from the dip,

"You don't like my dress? I picked it out all by myself." You lied wrapping your arms around his neck once more and continuing to sway together. He leant his forehead down on yours and you both swayed in time to 'I Miss You by SOYOU',

"I love you, love you, love you..." You whispered as the song said it and Taehyung smiled as he heard you singing softly,

"And I miss you, miss you..." He sang back to you, you both stopped still and he titled your chin up to look at him.

"I love you, love you, love you." He whispered right before he placed his lips on yours, your eyes widened before shutting and kissing him back.

Jungkook: ~ Tell me your secrets, all of the creep shit. That’s how I know it’s true

You were sitting in a train carriage going to Seoul after one of the worst days of your life and you let out a small noise that could have been a choked sob or a whine but the man in front of you got up and left the seat not wanting to be around someone like that. You didn't blame him, no one wanted to be around you right now and no one wanted to be around a crying woman on a train it would look weird.

"Fuck," You whispered as you noticed the train getting busier by the second, you pulled up the hood of your jacket over your head and stared out of the window not wanting to cry in front of anyone. You'd done your best to keep it in, you weren't about to break right now.

"Everything okay?" You looked across from you to see someone who looked like Jungkook from BTS and you nodded turning back to look out of the window but the boy continued to stare at you.

"You sure?" You swallowed the lump in your throat before shaking your head at him and he questioned what was wrong putting his hands on the table. You stared at them and saw the tattoos that Jungkook had but it couldn't have been him, this was a public train so you assumed he wouldn't jump on and start talking to random people.

"I erm...My ex just broke up with me and threw me out." You stuttered out looking from his hands to his face, he had the same mole as Jungkook so it had to be him but there were always people that looked like each other.

"I'm who you think I am, but please don't scream." You shook your head promising that you wouldn't,

"You look like him, but everyone has at least five people that look identical to us...How do I know you're not some crazy fan who got tattoos to look like him." He started laughing and shaking his head at you, his laugh made you feel better the moment you heard it and you knew it was him.

"How can I convince you I'm who I say I am?" You pretending to think about it for a couple of seconds, all the worries of your ex-boyfriend fading away from your mind.

"Tell me your secrets," He chuckled and leant forward whispering a secret he'd never told anyone before and you nodded slowly pretending not to be convinced and he chuckled bringing out his ID and proving it was him.

"How do I know who you are?" He teased back, you brought out your ID and showed him it before he chuckled and began to question you on what had happened with your ex so he could find a way to comfort you.

"You should totally try it, I promise it's amazing." You giggled as you held out the cup of white hot chocolate for him to try. He took it from your hands and sipped on it before nodding.

"You're right, totally better than regular." He laughed as you started walking around the Han River for the sixth time that night, as soon as you both reached Seoul station you didn't want this to end so he offered to buy you a drink to cheer you up and spend more time with you. He wanted to get to know you and spend all the time he could with you,

"I have to go soon but here," He wrote his number down in your phone and text himself so he could have your number,

"Call me when you get home safe, okay?" You nodded and he kissed your cheek before running away.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @btsiguess-kpop @rjsmochii

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shiftytracts · 4 years ago

Text

Stop Wanting More, part 2 of 2 (T/M/A fic)

In which season-four Jon tries to quiet his hunger for live statements by gorging himself on paper ones, and Daisy tells him what she used to do when she got shaky between hunts. Part one here.

Content warnings for this half:

Nausea, and brief descriptions of prior vomiting

Vague discussion of Daisy’s passive suicidality

Animal cruelty and death: Daisy talks about hunting rats for sport

—

“Statement of Alice ‘Daisy’ Tonner, regarding—”

“Shhhh! You’ll wake the tape recorder.” Her hand clapped over his mouth so hard his teeth buzzed like mugs in a cupboard. He did his best to say Ouch. The salt on her palm made his inner lips itch. Daisy sighed: “Too late; I can hear it hissing.”

At once the cushions began to lurch again, and his stomach contents with them. On her way past him off the couch Daisy managed both to step on his trouser leg and elbow him in the sacrum. Chills curled up in the shadows of heat she’d left on his forehead, stomach, legs. Her way back into her prior position went smoother, though. She even remembered how tightly to press his belly with hers. Why did returned warmth always make him shiver?

“Alright—skip the spiel. Just Ask.”

“What did you used to do when—” Daisy cut him off with a hollow laugh, which Jon seconded. As soon as he’d begun to speak the tape recorder clicked back on, as he’d suspected it would.

“Whatever; just do it.”

“You won’t be too self-conscious?”

She shrugged. “Won’t matter; I’ll be compelled.”

Jon bit down the wave of remorse and resentment her words stirred inside him. She’d agreed to this—cajoled him into it, even. He could examine those feelings later, when she’d gone to bed. When he was alone, and warm, and.

Unbidden into his head came the passage from Tristram Shandy about the “beds of justice.” He’d never read it before, having got through hardly ten pages of that book, and wondered now for half a second how Beholding could have thought this would help, until there thundered across his mind the words, I write one half full,—and t’other fasting;—or write it all full,—and correct it fasting;—or write it fasting; and Jon swallowed, as if that would make it stop. Less than a second later he could feel his stomach trying to expand around it.

Last week he’d tried reading an encyclopedia—vore-ing it, cover to cover. No good; he quit a third of the way in, when it bored him so much he caught himself fantasizing about its giving him a paper cut he’d have to get up to attend to. Eating fear-free trivia was like trying to fill up on tic tacs. Only when stuffed could he even feel it going down.

He told himself if he didn’t Ask her for her story now he’d only spoil his dinner with more useless facts.

“What did you used to do when you got shaky between hunts?”

“I hunted rats around my flat,” Daisy said at once, in the expressionless way of compulsion. In a voice more like her own, she went on, “Not inside, not at first, just—around the dumpsters. First my building’s, and then some nights the whole block. However long it took before I got too slow to enjoy chasing.

“Then one night I thought I saw one dart past in the corridor. So I left out bait for it, half hoping it’d attract more rats into the building. It worked; I found three in there that week.”

“What do you mean bait?”

Again her first sentence emerged as though she were reading it off a list. “Leftovers, mostly. Wasn’t hard—I didn’t have much appetite for” (in one-handed air quotes, with a huff of laughter) “'people food,’ anyway. I’d just make sure to leave a few bites unfinished, and stick them under the mat at the top of the stairs. Sandwich crusts usually, nothing gross. When I got Chinese takeaway I’d use the cabbage they put in the box.”

To make air quotes Daisy’d had to fish her hand out from under the blanket. Now she returned it to its slot on the side of his gut where hip gave way to bloat. Jon almost wished she hadn’t; he feared the reminder might weigh him down. He felt giddy and light, like if he stood and walked, hell, ran, it might not hurt his legs and chest. Like if he flapped his hands instead of wringing them he’d bump the ceiling. For Daisy to comfort his body he’d have to remember he had one.

“How did you catch them? It does—uh.” Whichever Watcher department took charge of compulsion seemed to know his question ended here, because Daisy responded before Jon could finish his follow-up sentence. (It doesn’t sound like you laid traps, he’d meant to say.)

“By the tail. I ran after them and stepped on their tails and then.” She paused for an entire second and closed her eyes tight, but by the time Jon realized what this meant she’d already concluded: “I snapped their spines with my shoe.”

That was all she said, but not all he learnt about it. The Eye let him—made him hear the crunch. For an instant it shared with him the satisfaction Daisy’d felt at the finality of that sound. It had been a sore spot for her, a then-recent wound, how many monsters didn’t die when you broke their necks.

Then her satisfaction left him, and he felt intensely sick.

“Stop—don’t say any more—I’m sorry Daisy, I didn’t—”

She snarled a sigh. “Yeah, I know. Guess I should’ve told you not to ask about that part.”

“Oh. No, it’s. I'm alright, I just meant, it looked like you… didn’t want to tell me that.”

“No I didn’t,” Daisy concurred, in a tone so flat he wondered whether he’d somehow compelled it.

“Is there anything else you don’t—er. What other questions about this would you prefer I didn’t ask.”

She shrugged. “Everything else is fair game.”

“Okay,” Jon said, wishing that answer reassured him more. “You don’t—need a minute, or?”

Again she shrugged. “Yeah, alright. You look like you might, anyway. How’s your gut feeling.”

It took him a moment to realize she meant his actual gut, not like. When he did he answered without thinking: “Not bad? Ignorable, mostly, but. That in itself is.” He looked down at his fingertips for some loose skin to peel. “I’m… stronger, now, already, my. My limbs feel like.”

Daisy nodded. “Like they could carry you without having to think about it.”

“Quite,” Jon agreed, though he wished as soon as the word left his mouth that he’d picked a different one. Something that sounded less like he wanted to talk about the phenomenon’s downside, its sinister implications. He very much did not.

“The rats, did you… eat them?”

“Ew, Jon,” she replied, like it was obvious. “Not literally, no. Didn’t have to. You don’t literally eat statements either, yeah? I just killed them and it… fed me.”

“But didn’t satisfy you,” Jon suggested.

“No. They didn’t make me less hungry, just made it easier to sleep. And they made my belly swell up like yours.” (She patted his; he huffed in pretended offense.) “That’s why I only did it after I’d gone home for the night: it made me slow. I’d know I’d had enough to go to bed when I couldn’t run after them anymore. When I tried to go without—I couldn’t keep my eyes closed. Soon as I stopped thinking about it, they’d fly open. Or at least, it never felt like I slept. Guess I must’ve done, though, ‘cause sometimes I’d find myself chewing on the bedding.” Daisy shook her head, with a sigh interpretable also as a laugh. “Think I’ve started doing that again. I keep finding holes in Basira’s sleeping bag.”

“Not yours, though?” Jon knew she and Basira slept with the edges of their two sleeping bags zipped together. (A frankenbag, Daisy called it.)

Daisy grinned: “No. Hers is a better texture.”

“Thought you said you didn’t remember doing it.”

“I don’t, but mine looks like it’d be grosser to have in your mouth.”

In reality, Jon had never seen her sleeping bag up close, but now Beholding showed him what it looked like. Once kelly green but now faded grayish, like a pond; the fabric was all over pills. It smelled like wood smoke, Ritz crackers, and the lone sock one finds at the bottom of every suitcase.

“That’s fair,” Jon allowed, hoping the strain in his voice would sound to her like a laugh. Somehow this piece of information, about the godforsaken sleeping bag, had brought his stomachache back way above the “ignorable” waterline. The nauseating smell, maybe? He tried to steady himself with a deep breath, but, well.

“You look sick.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“You’re not subtle, Jon,” she scoffed; “you gasp and writhe.”

Jon tried to shrug, tried to laugh. “I’m fine. It’s just… a lot. I’m alright, I’ve just never.” What, been this full? Compelled an eldritch snack after having already eaten his weight in paper? As if that weren’t obvious. He drew in breath to speak, but still hadn’t thought of an end to his sentence. Then he felt Daisy’s hands—both of them—start to dig shallow trenches, one up each of his sick sides. His breath came out in a shaky sigh.

“That help?”

“Yeah.”

Each time they reached his ribs—or, in the left side’s case, the place where his ninth and tenth ribs used to be—her hands turned back, in a slight arc so that they made narrow ovals, each a little closer to his stomach’s center than the last. Until they met in the middle, then worked their way slowly back out to his sides.

“Could you… keep doing that while I hear the rest of your.”

Her laugh had an edge to it that miiiight have been contempt? But she said, “Sure. What do you still want to know?”

“Uh.” He pretended to have to think about it. “Why don’t you hunt rats now?”

“I don’t want to kill things just because they’re weaker than me.” Daisy’s hands had frozen in place while she spoke these words; now they resumed. She sighed, but Jon wasn’t sure at what. “Rats are fine, they don’t need to die.”

“I wouldn’t say they’re fine,” Jon scoffed; “pretty sure they serve the Corruption. They spread hantavirus, ratbite fever, lymphocytic”—he paused to swallow a wave of nausea, hoping it was the ugliness of these facts and not their sheer bulk that sickened him. He hoped also that she’d assume his voice had caught on the pronunciation, rather than. He cleared his throat and continued: “Lymphocytic choriomeningitis, and leptospirosis. And the plague, of course, though not without help from.”

Daisy groaned, her teeth bared to the canines. Jon could feel her fingers curl into fists, though thankfully none of his skin got trapped between her nails and palms. “That’s exactly the kind of judgment I’m trying not to make anymore. They’re—they’re also good, okay? Rats. Had a friend with a rat once, when I was a kid.” For an instant Jon wondered if she meant Calvin Benchley. Then the Eye told him she did. “You can teach them tricks. Like dogs. His knew how to fetch, roll over, go through mazes to find treats. And they’re affectionate, friendly. The tails are weird, but—they have sweet eyes.”

A huff of laughter tumbled out of Jon’s nose. “All animals have sweet eyes. That’s a pretty low bar.”

“Don't flatter yourself.”

The Ceaseless Watcher seemed to side with her on this, showing him the eyes of lemurs, flies, goats, anglerfish (the regular kind).

“Either way, I hardly think that outweighs the plague.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Daisy insisted, still sounding querulous. She’d retracted her hands now, and held them balled together close to her chest—like Jon himself did when he felt too shy to stim outright. If they hadn’t been talking about rats the attitude probably wouldn’t’ve struck him as rat-like, but.

“It doesn’t always need to matter which one of those things is more important,” she went on. “It feels like it does, but—sometimes that’s just a habit we get into. Some things just are, okay? I like not having to think about it anymore.”

“Right, that makes sense, we can….”

“Besides. I didn’t care about any of that when I was hunting them. The diseases or whether they’re part of the Filth or whatever. I just knew they were gross, and that people were scared of them. That’s the main reason I killed monsters, too.”

“What if you just… caught them and let them go?”

“Monsters?”

“No, rats.”

“I don’t want a substitute, Jon. I’m alright going cold turkey.”

“But it’s not cold turkey, it’s—no turkey.”

Daisy looked at him for the first time in what felt like a while, and smiled, but furrowed her eyebrows. “Just what do you think ‘cold turkey’ means?”

“I know there’s no actual turkey,” Jon sighed, trying to ignore the Eye’s barrage of suggestions for where the phrase might have originated. God, his stomach hurt. He missed having her hands there to rub away some of this nausea and ache. Wondered what he could say to bring them back. Doing it himself at a time like this would’ve felt so. “I just mean, withdrawal is—different. It can kill you, but you’re still abstaining from something that people in general don’t need to live.”

“Aaaand you think people in general need the Hunt.”

“Of course not. I know you know what I’m getting at,” Jon persisted. “You’re talking about starvation—which, unless for some reason the Fears are too sentimental to throw their old husks away, means it will kill you. Not just—‘can.’”

“Maybe. Probably, yeah. If some monster doesn’t come around to kick me off the wagon first. I’ve told you that before, though.”

“…Okay. Yes, you have, that’s. Yes. So then—?”

“What?”

“Why are you giving me a statement!?”

“To commiserate,” Daisy recited first, in the flat tone of compulsion—and then, “Shhh!”

“Tape recorder’s already on.”

“Yeah but Basira’s out there; she might—be asleep. It’s not a statement,” said Daisy. “Just a story.”

As usual Jon let himself fall into the trap. Was it a statement? By Institute standards, maybe not; he wasn’t sure it counted as a supernatural encounter, except from the rats’ perspective. And most of the fear in it was the rats’, too. He supposed you could call it an encounter with her own changing nature? Statement of Alice ‘Daisy’ Tonner, regarding her supernatural hunger and how she.

“But why would you feed me a story when the answer you come to at the end of it is that it’s better to starve?”

This time he didn’t mean to compel her—was sure he’d phrased it indirectly enough not to. But Jon was surer yet Daisy wouldn’t have given the answer she did except under compulsion:

“Because I felt sorry for you.” Then she winced, bared her teeth, shook her head; Jon wondered if she’d felt that one. It seemed like people usually didn’t—just heard themselves speak words they hadn’t meant to, and surmised what had happened from that. But maybe after so many in a row she’d begun to feel the static.

“For what? Why?”

“For feeling evil. Because it reminded me of me.” In her own voice: “Think maybe I wanted it off my chest, too.”

So, what? The moral high ground was alright for her, but he was too weak for it? Or, or not, what, spiritually advanced enough to walk that plane? Because he hadn’t been conscious for his six-month limbo between life and death, like she’d been in the coffin?

“But you resist, so—? Why wouldn’t you think I should starve too?” On the ocean floor of his stomach something evil emerged from its hole. “Hhh—wait, don’t answer that, I’m—”

Too late. “Because eating the statements doesn’t hurt anything. The ones already written down—just recording them, it’s harmless. And you can’t give me bad dreams anymore, so—ugh.” Jon opened his eyes to find Daisy clawing at her temples. She shook her head, to the extent she could without knocking into his. “I told you I'm trying not to do that anymore.”

I’m not ready, Jon had meant to say. But seeing how little she liked having answered, he wished he could claim it was for her sake he’d tried to stop her.

He still wasn’t ready to hear or think or talk about this, really. The top half of his belly seared with such pain he couldn’t think straight; lower down it squirmed. He felt perilously sick. His whole body wanted so badly to curl into a ball that his legs wouldn’t quit twitching against Daisy’s. He pressed his elbows into his sides, while his hands hovered, pathetically he was sure, just over the top and center of a stomach he feared would pounce if he dared touch it.

But he felt like owed her some proof he’d been listening. “Do…?”

“Judge people. Decide what’s right for them.”

“I see,” Jon lied; that was all he could manage for now. In truth he needed a break before he could even parse what she had said.

“Turns out I can’t lie to myself under compulsion either. I didn’t think that was the reason?—thought I was just not judging you.”

“I think”—he pushed himself back from her, sure for a second that he was about to be sick. It passed, but his breath caught on it as on panic, so he couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.

Especially not since Daisy too shot upright, her nails loudly scraping the cushion behind her as she hurled herself against it. “Shit—turn around—not on the couch—”

“I’m okay, it’s.” He did turn around, just to ease her mind, but the motion required had quite the opposite effect on him. Jon heard the sounds of ragged breath and whimpering, then recognized his own voice behind them.

Daisy’s hands came to perch one on the back of his shoulder, the other on his side between rib and pelvis. “Don’t worry about it, just get it out. We’ll clean it up later—just like last time, remember?” The fingertips of the hand on his side twitched back and forth at his stomach’s very outer edge.

“N—o, I.” He swallowed. “I think I’m alright.” Tried opening his eyes. Nope, not ready. His breath shuddered again. Daisy’s hands vanished from his shoulder and side; he heard the flapping sound of a blanket being shaken out, then felt it flutter and settle on top of him. Must’ve got dislodged when he rolled over, though he was warm enough now he hadn’t noticed. Dimly he recognized this as a victory.

Her hand moved to stroke his back; she kept saying Shhh, but not in the harsh way she had earlier. “You, uh.” Again Jon swallowed, though what ailed him was a lack of spit rather than excess of it. “You weren’t nearly this nice last time.”

“What?” The hand on his back stilled. “I was too! I tied your hair back for you! I let you ruin my jumper by wiping your pukey mouth on it! I sat with you, on the cold hard floor, in front of the toilet, and let you babble all your egghead theories to me about vomit and the Corruption, even though I’d been sick not two days before, and could barely stand the smell even without you philosophizing about it—”

“No, I meant—the time before, when you. Never mind.”

“Oh—when I had to clean it up?” Jon nodded, hoping she’d be able to tell that from the back of his head. “Yeah, well. Guess I like you better now.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Me neither.” And yet she scooted closer to him, hooking her chin over his shoulder. Her hand came to rest on his belly again, its heel in the hollow at the edge of his pelvis. “This okay? You alright with touch right now?”

In response Jon felt around for her hand. When he found it he slotted his fingers between hers, pulled her hand to a sicker-feeling place a few inches higher up, and left his there on top of it.

“Right,” Daisy laughed—“my mistake.” She dragged their combined hands very gently back and forth across the place he’d brought them to. “This where you’re feeling yuckiest?”

His breath caught again, but with surprise and relief this time. With his free hand Jon covered his eyes, willing himself not to think about how ridiculous he must seem to her right now. “That’s, er. That’s perfect, yes.”

“Sure.”

“Though actually—do you think—maybe a slightly… longer stroke?”

Again she laughed. Her hand went limp under his. “Backseat driver. Alright, show me how it’s done.”

It took him a minute to determine that himself. He tried pulling her hand back and forth past his navel, but that grated against something sharp inside. Supposed he couldn’t consult the Oracle for this. Up and down, maybe? Yes, that would do. Or a circle perhaps. Anti-clock—? No, clockwise, definitely. Much better.

Once they’d got that sorted out, Jon said, “I wonder if… you’d let me Ask. One more question.”

“Seriously? I can feel how stuffed you are; how could you possibly want more? Five minutes ago you nearly puked.”

“I’m just—curious, alright? I won’t be sick, I promise.”

“Fine.”

“Did you ever… throw them up?”

“I didn’t eat them, Jon. Told you that already.”

“Alright, poor choice of words. Did you ever—” he tried to think how best to phrase it. “When you threw up regular… people food. Did something of the rats ever come up with it?”

“Yeah. I only got sick once in the time I was doing it, but, I think so, yeah. Thought I was just really out of it at the time though. They didn’t make me sick, I don’t think—just another stomach bug, like the one I gave you. One of those bugs where everything has to come out? And it came on me in the middle of the night, so the last thing I’d”—a pause to sigh; her hand slipped out of his, presumably to make air quotes, but then took it again before he could think of somewhere else to put it—“‘eaten’ was the rats. Not as many as usual; I was already feeling slow that evening. But, yeah. They… it wasn’t their actual bodies, though, okay? I thought I was just dry heaving at first—you know when you’re hanging over the toilet bowl because you know you’re gonna be sick—”

Jon squirmed, fighting a temptation to cover his ears. “Yes, thank you, I’m familiar with—”

“—but you can’t get anything solid up yet, you just retch and drool and cough into the bowl. Well it started then, and then, some of it got mixed up with my sandwich. It was like I… felt their fear, like I—became them, for a second. Each one of them.”

She’d been right; it was too much. God, please don’t make him be the rat! Jon bit his lip ducked his head to his chest curled his toes bent his knees, anything, trying to barricade the doors against the onslaught of information. He pressed his and Daisy’s combined hands hard into the place where his stomach jutted forth from ribs for fear if he didn’t try to equalize the pressure inside from without he might burst like a sheep in clover and flood this whole room in half-ruminated text, a cloud of serifed letters scuttling heinously all over himself and Daisy like half-formed spiders.

“I don’t know how I knew that’s what it was,” Daisy went on. “It wasn’t like I saw the scene again, or heard the crunch, or felt the. Anything like that. I just—was the rat. I was prey. Just for a second. And knew that I—me, as in.” Again her hand slipped out of his. “The Hunter, was about to kill me. And… then it faded and I was me again until the next one.”

Her hand returned to the dome at the top of his gut where he’d last set it, but its ghosts on his palm and between his fingers remained cold. She brushed the hand up and down his belly, airily—oblivious to how its muscles clenched and undulated. Jon panted and forced himself to focus on her hand and nothing else. How it bumped and shuddered when his stomach’s shape morphed under it. How at the end of his every exhale her touch became so light it tickled. This was the present Daisy, and the present Jon. Here on this couch in the Institute basement. Both thin, her bony ilium pressed closer to his sacroiliac joint than was quite comfortable. Warm, except up one leg where the blanket let in a draft.

The one who’d tried to prey on him was long gone. If anything he was the one feeding on her, now. And they just laid on the couch together, massaging her horrors into more comfortable shapes inside him.

“That enough?”

Jon grunted an incredulous huff. “Too much,” he admitted, unable to keep the strain out of his voice. “You were right—I, uh. Didn’t know stomachaches came this size.”

Her laugh sounded affectionate. The lines up and down his stomach morphed into circles around it. “Ha—look how much higher your belly comes up on this side. That must be where your ribs were.”

“Yes, I’ve. Noticed that before, thanks.”

“Think you’ll keep it all down?”

“Hope so.”

“Good luck. Wouldn’t want you to have to relive the rats again.”

Oh, god.

“The less said about it the—better I’ll feel, I think.”

“Well that’s a change,” Daisy mused, patting his stomach as though in summation. “I should get to bed. Be alright on your own?”

“Er.” No, no, no, god please no, not alone yet with all these? “Yes, alright. I should be fine.”

She laughed again. “I’ll stay til you fall asleep.”

(For Daisy’s take on “the time before,” when she had to clean up his vomit, see Abyss of Possibilities; to view the drawing in less-bad resolution, see this post)

#stuffing #hunger kink #nausea #stomachache #a shifty tract #nonsearchable tma tag #me: writes a story about eating information #also me: god why is this so LONG why did i have to go off on so many TANGENTS #uhhhhhhh hm let's think

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years ago

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Birthday Snoot

Shinsou x reader

Warnings: swearing, angsty thoughts, fluff

A/N: I just whipped this up for a very special person who’s having a hard time. I’m not gonna add the Taglist because I’m too TIRET.

You dragged your feet up the stairs, dreading even the thought of raising your hands to unlock your condo doors. This week had beat you up. Hell, the past few months had basically latched itself to your back and was draining you of all of your energy; a sadistic twist of it all was that it seemed that the universe enjoyed watching you suffer slowly but surely. You were looking forward to crawling in your bed and allowing your dreams to take you up and out of existence for awhile but you still had so much shit to do.

Your place was empty, a sad thought, though if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you could spare an ounce enthusiasm— a fake smile, acting like everything was cool, or that you were even excited about today. It was just another day. It wasn’t like when you were a kid when you’d count the months, the days, the minutes until this day reared its head around. Often times, you’d be discussing plans with friends, maybe have a party or an outing, something, but your enthusiasm just wasn’t there. You wished it were, but it wasn’t. Will it always be like this? Just another day? If you were being honest, it wasn’t even worth dwelling on. You just had a handful of hours until it was over, and those hours were spent at your desk, working.

You brought a pen to paper and stared blankly at what was supposed to be an essay that was due Monday. What the fuck were you even supposed to be writing about? Your class syllabus was lost to a flurry of other papers jammed in your bag because you didn’t care enough to keep yourself organized or told yourself you’d do it later. If only the world stopped for you just as it seemed like it did in the past. You looked to your phone. Minutes were crawling and you had five missed calls. You felt tension rise up in your back. It was nice to know people cared, to know that people still knew you were alive, but even thinking about calling any one of them back just seemed like another chore.

Your head hit the desk. If only that were enough to knock you out, but that would suggest that you were capable of falling asleep at a decent fucking hour. You hit your head again, if only just to humor yourself and for a moment, it worked, only when you thought about having him see you like this, but of course, he had obligations. You couldn’t expect him to be here to witness your sorry parade. You didn’t even want to tell him that today was your birthday because that could just be a burden to him. He might’ve been a bigger stress ball than you.

It was funny. Thinking about his heavily lidded eyes staring at you actually did get you to be a bit drowsy and you found your eyes fluttering closed. Your lips almost formed a smile. Who needed sleeping pills or meditation when just the thought of your somniferous boyfriend could help aid you with your rest. But shit, fuck! You could not fall asleep. You had obligations.

Just as you were about to raise your head, warmth prickled at your back; large hands began rubbing circles around your shoulders. You hummed in response, easing your head on to your notebook pillow. A scoff followed.

“That doesn’t look very comfy,” he said, trimmed nails tickling you in that spot you liked.

“Hmmm,” you mustered. You weren’t agreeing nor objecting. You just didn’t have words.

His hands dragged down to your arms and he rested his head on yours, his musky aroma tickling your nose. He’d been sweating. On anyone else, that would’ve grossed you out, but you kinda liked it when he smelled like his day. He was always so hard at work, trying to better himself. He was what inspired you to do your best on most days, but today was your day and you allowed yourself the time to just… be down. How did the song go? ‘It’s my party and I can cry if I want to”?.

“Darlin’, if you stay like that, you’re gonna get a hunch in your back. I’ll still love you, but I don’t think you want to live the rest of your life as Quasimodo.”

You hummed again, this time in full agreement. You were already a garbage boi, stink man and you didn’t want to add a hunch on to that. You raised your head and Shinsou let off. You turned towards him and he cupped your face, smiling softly down at you.

“Hey there,” he said, dragging a thumb across your lips. “I missed you so much today.”

You pursed your lips. You should say something. You missed him too, you always did, but words were lost in your throat. You were tired.

“I don’t get a hello?”

You shook your head.

He dipped his head down, leveling his with yours. “Then, how ‘bout a kiss?”

Your eyes fell to his feet. You cursed yourself for being this way. You didn’t want to bring him down. Where were those fake smiles you were thinking about earlier? If you could put up a front in front of anyone, shouldn’t it be for him? He deserved your love and grace. Scratch that, he deserved so much more than you.

“I got you something.” A small square object appeared in front of you. It had wrapping paper adorned with little kittens bearing Christmas tidings all around it; similar to those pajamas you always wore. You furrowed your brows and looked up to him. “It’s a CD.”

Tears welled up in your eyes and you tried to blink them away, but it was a fruitless endeavor. He saw everything.

“Heyyy,” he cooed, kneeling down in front of you. Again, he brought his hand to your face and this time, you leaned into his warm touch. Indigo eyes searched your own. “What’s goin on, kitten? Did something happen?”

God, what was wrong with you? What were you supposed to say to him? Nothing happened. Nothing ever happens. Life was just this endless cycle of you getting up and working your ass off with little to no gratifying results and you were sick of it. And here you were with this fantastic human being who took care of you, who knew your birthday even when you didn’t tell him about it, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to say thank you?! You choked out a sob.

“Shhh shhh, it’s okay…” Shinsou wrapped his arms around you, petting your hair soothingly. With your face in his shirt, you were overwhelmed by his scent as tears rolled off onto it. He felt so nice. He felt like home. You arms creeped up to your back and you lost yourself in his embrace. This was what you needed.

“I know exactly what’s going on…”

One moment you were sitting in your chair, and the next, your legs were hoisted up, imprisoned by your boyfriend carrying you bridal style. For a moment, you felt just like a little kid, like when your parents would carry you from the living room to your bedroom when you’d fallen asleep playing a game. You parted your lips to object, looking towards your schoolwork on your desk but Shinsou wasn’t having it.

“I understand, but you have the entire weekend. You’re exhausted, babe. You need to take a breather.”

Shinsou carried you to your bed and gingerly laid you down across your sheets. Usually you’d find yourself in a similar position after wrestling around and he’d find a way to neutralize you, tossing you carelessly onto your mattress before he’d wrap you around in blankets while you cackled and squirmed underneath him, but right now, he was being sweet, gingerly kissing you on the forehead as he pulled your comforter over your chest. His nice attitude of course, didn’t stoo him from laying right on top of you, burrowing his nose into the crook of your neck.

“We were both busy today. I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”

You didn’t expect anything from him, so even just having him here with you was enough to lift your spirits slightly. You fingers weaved through his soft purple locks, a sign to tell him that you were fine.

“We don’t have to talk about anything that’s going on if you don’t want to. Just know that I’m here for you, darlin’. And I always will be.”

You tugged on his hair, a sign that was supposed to mean, ‘I get it.’

Shinsou leaned back, brow raised. “Easy there, Godzilla. If you keep that up, I might get the wrong idea.”

You snickered and pulled the covers over your mouth. He smirked down at you and kissed your lips through the covers. You hummed and pulled them down, sticking your tongue out at him, which he took as an opportunity to to smother your face in sporadic and goofy, little pecks. You laughed and scrunched your nose up, turning your head away to avoid any further attacks, but Shinsou merely placed a tender kiss on that sensitive part of your neck.

“I love you,” he said, settling down next to you, “and I’m gonna make sure that we celebrate your birthday properly this weekend, whether you want to go out, stay in, be surprised, I’ll be ready for anything my kitten’s little heart desires. Do you understand?”

His sleepy eyes bore earnest intensity. God, how did you get to be so lucky? You nodded bashfully, embarrassed at your inward fit he had witnessed.

“I’m ready to celebrate every day with you. Whether it be your birthday or any old Thursday. Even if we both have our own shit, we’ll get through it all together. Buckle up, ‘cause you're stuck with me.”

You grinned. Really, he was stuck with you, but hell, sometimes he could be just as big of a mess you were. And you appreciated his mess. You loved him, all of him: his charm, his anxieties, you even loved when he was being a gentle sap like he was right now.

“Hitoshi?”

“Hm?”

You smacked him in the head with a pillow.

“You, monster!” He jabbed you in the rib.

You laughed and wrapped your arms and legs around him, showing off your greatest koala impression, the one he made fun of you for but secretly loved. Shinsou dragged the pillow off of his face and revealed a soft grin. Ahhh he was so stupid!

“I love you, too,” you said into his armpit.

“You better.” Shinsou sunk down deeper into the bed with you, letting out a long yawn before pulling the covers better over the both of you.

“‘Cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

@unboundbnha

#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou

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finnyboywolfhard · 5 years ago

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In Your Dreams

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The reader has a dream about Steve. Angst/fluff.

Warnings: cursing and a brief/insinuated conversation of sex.

Word Count: 2.4K

Y/N looked into the mirror, putting on one final swipe of mascara. She smiled lightly to herself, pleased with how she looked. She felt antsy and nervous for some reason, but she couldn’t quite tell what. A honk outside of her home, jolted her back to reality. She grabbed the bag that was laying on her bed and rushed out the door. upon seeing the maroon BMW idling in her driveway, a rush of butterflies swarmed her stomach and her hands got a bit more clammy. She walked slowly to the car, only to have the sweet boy fun to the passenger door and open it for her. Flush lined her cheeks, and she coyly thanked him for being so sweet.

“Y/N/N, you look absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks Stevie. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

Time seemed to fly by as the she was having the time of her life on the date of her dreams. Steve pulled the car into her driveway and he reached over to lay a hand on top of hers.

“Y/N/N, I...think i might be in love with you.” Her smile spread across her face, beaming with joy at the declaration of love laid forth to her.

“Stevie, I know I’m in love with you.” Closing the distance between the two was her number one priority at the moment. She wanted nothing more than her lips to collide with his. She inched closer and closer and closer...

Y/N’s alarm blared through her room, seemingly louder than normal. She shot up straight in her bed.

“I’m so fucked.” She couldn’t stop thinking about the dream she just had about her best friend Steve Harrington. It had only been a few months since he started working at the video store with her, but just in that short time they, along with Robin, had become especially close. And sure, they playfully flirted and bantered, but that’s what it was, play, right? They were just best friends, right?

As she was getting ready for her shift, her thoughts were racing thinking about the dream she just had about him. She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened in the dream. She had so much fun, and was super happy. She felt love sick in the dream, and that was starting to seep into her real life.

The drive to work was almost unbearable. She suddenly became hyper aware that she was going to have to see him for their shift in less than five minutes. She obviously couldn’t tell him about the dream, because that would make it seem like she liked him. Which maybe she does, she wasn’t sure what to think. Just as she pulled in, he pulled in from the opposite direction, Robin in his passenger seat. Y/N immediately put her car in park and ran in so she could get the stock job for the day, so she could be alone. She heard Robin and Steve both yelling for her, but ignored them. Her thoughts were starting to swallow her whole.

“Hey Y/N/N.”

“Hi Steve.” She replied back coldly.

“Steve? You never call me Steve, you always call me Stevie. Is something wrong?”

“Everything is fine Steve, now if you’d excuse me, i have to organize all of these or else my ass is grass.” She blankly said to him, turning to focus on her work instead of him. She was also turning away to hide the blush that was beginning to splay across her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. She had one of THOSE dreams about him.

Y/N worked as diligently as she could, with her mind always coming back to Steve. Steve and his perfect hair, and his dorky but lovable personality. Steve and his constant need to make sure everybody else is okay before himself. Steve and his cute voice, and perfect laugh. Steve and his chiseled, yet comfortable body. Steve, Steve, Steve was all she could think about.

“Damn Y/N, who’s the lucky guy you’re drooling over?” She was pulled from her daydream over the dumb boy working the front of store by her other best friend Robin.

“It’s no one.” She glanced to Steve, her heart beating a little faster. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What happened between yesterday and today that you finally know your feelings for Steve?”

“Robin, quiet down. I had one of THOSE dreams about him last night and it’s just kind of throwing me for a loop-Wait, did you say finally know them?”

“Yes, it’s obvious how you feel about him. It’s kinda gross how often you give him puppy eyes. Tell me about this dream you had.”

“Rob, you’re joking right?”

“No, I’m not. Let’s hear it, Y/N/N.” Robins voice was thick with mockery of Steve saying her nickname. Y/N struggled to decide if she should tell Robin about the dream or not, eventually deciding that if she didn’t tell her right now, Robin would get it out of her with constant pestering.

“It wasn’t that bad, okay? It was just one of those dreams where you go to bed thinking about someone one way and wake up feeling completely different.” Robin looked at her, and waved her hand to tell her to continue telling her what happened in the dream.

“Okay, so the dream started with me getting ready for what i assumed to be a date with some random guy. Little did i know, that it was actually a date with Steve. i got into his car, and he told me i was beautiful and i flirted back naturally. And then i had the best date i think i could ever ask for. Literally the date of my dreams. And then we came back to my house and we were sitting in my driveway, and he told me he was in love with me and i told him it back and just when we were gonna kiss my alarm went off. And now I’m royally fucked because i cant even look at him without getting butterflies.”

Robin stared at the girl for a few seconds not saying anything, before bursting into a fit of laughter. Thus causing everyone in the store, including Steve to look back at the two girls standing at the counter. And to those who saw it, was probably a treat. One girl was sitting there cracking up laughing and the other was staring at her mortified as to why she was laughing.

“Robin, calm down. Why are you laughing? People are staring.” Just as she said that, Steve and her made direct eye contact. She quickly looked away, heat spreading through her entire body.

“I’m sorry, like genuinely.But oh my god, I just can’t believe that you’re in love with that dingus.”

“What dingus?” Steve said approaching the two calmly. Y/N’s eyes grew to be as big as saucers.

“No one. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” Y/N said before turning to Robin and saying, “If you say anything, I will actually murder you.” With that, she walked back to the storage room and continued to organize.

Her shift went agonizingly slow, especially since both her and Steve worked a double. Meaning, when it came time to close only the two of them were left. She finished the stack of movies in the back, and filled out the stock form. After leaving the storage room, she noticed that the drawer wasn’t done yet, and Steve was still cleaning up.

“Y/N/N, that’s technically my job today. You don’t have to do that.”

“If you finish cleaning and I do the drawer, we’ll be out of here a lot quicker than if you did both.”

“That’s true, if we get done quickly, we might be able to make it to old diner on Main Street before they close. Maybe get some food?” Chills raised to her spine and butterflies filled her stomach, yet before she could even think about it she vomited out the words,

“I would love that.” His lips pulled into a dopey grin that she had grown to love over the past few months. Never the less, they both finished up their aspects of the job. Y/N put the money in the safe and reassembled the drawer for tomorrow’s openers and Steve got out the key ready to lock up. The door’s lock was turned and pulled, and they knew it was safe to leave.

“I think we have about forty five minutes until they close if you want to go?” Steve nodded to her asking.

“I’m down, I’ll just meet you over there then.” Her smile shone bright as the sun looking towards Steve. The two got into their cars, and began the trek to the diner.

She was beyond scared. Sure, she had spent plenty of time alone with Steve. Hell, she spent more time alone with him than with Robin. But that was also before she had a dream where they both proclaimed their love for each other. She pulled into the worn down diner with partially shredded booths and faded wallpaper.

She took a deep breath, recalling the memory of the first time they had come here after a long boring shift at the store. The two sat at a corner booth, and were as awkward as two coworkers who had just met two days ago could be. Quickly though, they found their footing in conversations varying from what their plans for the future were to how many times Dustin has described Suzie as being hotter than Phoebe Cates. And even though they had only met a few days prior, Steve already felt comfortable enough to tell her about all of the crazy shit that had gone down over the past few years. All of these conversations happened over French Fries and pancakes.

Three knocks on her window snapped her out of her daze, and she reached over to unbuckle, Steve opening the door for her before she could reach the handle herself. When they went inside, they sat in their regular corner booth. The waitress knew who they were, so only asked for their drink order and told them she put their order in when she saw them walking in.

“Ya know, it feels really nice to be so well taken care of here. Doesn’t happen many other places.” Steve said, fiddling with the sugar packets on the end of the table.

“You can say that again, certainly doesn’t happen at Family Video. If i have to cover one more shift for Keith without getting paid for managerial time I’m gonna lose it.” The two kept light conversation for a bit until their food came out, to which they were silenced by the food they were rapidly consuming.

“Y/N/N.” Steve said, suddenly sporting a serious tone.

“Yes Stevie?”

“What happened today? I don’t know if i did something, but you really scared me this morning. Something was clearly wrong, and i understand that you didn’t want to tell me, but it hurt that you pretended you were fine. And then with the whole Robin thing and how you told her not to say anything. i understand wanting to keep secrets, but... I don’t know... It sucks that you were that upset about me knowing.”

Y/N’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She never wanted to make him feel like that. She never wanted to make him feel pain. She had never meant for any of this to happen. The girl took a deep breath, still unclear as to what she was going to say to the obviously heartbroken boy in front of her.

“Stevie, I’m so sorry. i just am going through something right now and I don’t really know how to talk about it. Robin pried it out of me, and I didn’t mean to make you feel not included. It’s just a lot.”

“Apology accepted.” he said to her with a smile, before reaching over to lay a hand atop hers. “Just remember that I’m always here for you, okay? And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here right?” She nodded a yes to him smiling.

“Alright, now did i tell you about Dustin falling down my steps the other day?”

“No you absolutely didn’t.” The two talked lightheartedly until the check was paid and they walked out of the diner still laughing a bit. When they got over to their cars, Steve pulled Y/N into a huge hug. She didn’t let go for a bit, but eventually accepted defeat in staying there forever. She walked over to her car and got in. She let her head hit the steering wheel. A surge of confidence took over her body, causing her to fly out of her seat and get into the passenger side door of his car.

“Y/N/N, what is happening right now?”

“Stevie, I’m gonna try to get this out as quick as i can before going back to my car and leaving. Okay, so why I was so moody today was because last night i had a dream where we went on a date and you told me you were in love with me and we almost kissed but my alarm kinda ruined the moment. All of today i was super nervous around you, because i had never realized how much i really love you until that dream. And now i definitely made things awkward so I’ll see you Thursday for our shift.”

She reached over to get out of the car before feeling a hand grab her arm. She started to turn around, only for a hand to grasp her face and pull her into a long, passionate kiss. The two melded together perfectly, like puzzle pieces that were meant to fit together. The two pulled away after running out of oxygen, both panting as smiles grew on their faces.

“Kinda sucks your dream ended before that, huh?” Steve said jokingly.

“Ha-Ha-Ha.” Her words, dripping with sarcasm.

“In case you couldn’t tell. I’m in love with you too. It’s kinda funny. I had a dream just like that last week, except mine went a little bit further than kissing, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Steve! Slow your roll. We just confessed our love, we can at least wait until tomorrow damn.”

He laughed a little before pulling her in for one last goodnight kiss.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things x y/n #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic

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princesstreaclefanfic · 5 years ago

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Twilight Kinktober 2019 Day Two

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Lingerie / Finger Sucking

BELLA AND LEAH

Two burlesque dancers finally take the plunge into romance.

Bella was sweaty. Her hair was stuck to the nape of her neck and sweat was coating her upper lip. They'd just done a fast-paced burlesque routine and now she desperately needed some water to cool her down.

She headed out the stage door and towards the bar where Emmett and Carlisle were serving drinks. Carlisle saw her coming and gave her a nod, letting her know he had seen her. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and placed it on the bar for her. Bella drank it down in seconds.

"Nice routine, B." Bella smiled at Emmett's compliment. "You couldn't have given me a heads up?"

She swallowed the last of the cool drink. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Emmett let out a loud laugh. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. I had to see Rosie up there in nothing but a tiny bra and shorts - it's a wonder I didn't blow my load all over the bar!"

"Gross!" Everyone knew how Emmett felt about Rosalie - except maybe Rosalie herself. She had to admit when she knew they were going to be doing that routine she had thought about how Emmett would react.

"It would have been nice to have some warning," Carlisle chimed. He too was in love with one of Bella's best friends; Esme. Neither woman had time for dating though. Esme was too busy supporting herself and her son and Rose was studying and working.

"Next time, boys. Next time," she promised, even though she had no intention of telling them. She enjoyed seeing them squirm as much as the next person.

"Have you heard from Eddie boy at all?" Emmett asked as he wiped the bar down.

"Just the usual." Carlisle passed her another bottle of water. "The 'I'm so sorry' crap. Flowers and chocolates and he even sent me a poem!" She shook her head. "Like a poem's going to make up for me finding him balls deep inside my mother."

Carlisle and Emmett both screwed their faces up. They knew the story. Everyone knew the story. Bella had made sue to tell as many people as possible. She didn't want either of them getting away with what they had done.

"You'll find someone else, B," Emmett told her encouragingly. "But in the meantime, you could play wingman for me and Carlisle here." He clapped the blonde man on the back with a grin on his face.

"Don't bring me into this!" Carlisle said, holding his hands up. "Things will happen when they're meant to."

Bella used to believe that everything happened for a reason. But seeing her boyfriend buried inside her mother made her question that philosophy.

A few nights later, Bella walked into the club, greeting Carlisle and Emmett and the band before she headed backstage to get fitted for the new routine they were doing.

Maggie, the club's owner had decided that they should sing and dance to 'Lady Marmalade' and wanted all the girls in lingerie. She insisted they all get fitted today so they could perform it at the end of the week.

Walking into the changing room, Bella was pleased to see that everyone was there; Rosalie, Esme, Nessa, Rachel, Emily and Leah. They were like a little family.

"Hey, B," they all greeted, most of them wearing robes. When you danced together on stage in very little, being naked around each other became much less of a concern.

"Hi girls," she greeted back.

"Bella - glad you're here." Maggie breezed into the room with a clipboard in her hand, red curls piled on top of her head and glasses perched on the end of her nose. "How do you feel about baby blue?"

Bella frowned. "For what?"

"Lingerie darling. Lingerie." Maggie always seemed to be in a rush. "I was thinking we could dress you all in different colours - like a rainbow! And I think blue would suit your skin tone perfectly."

Bella opened her mouth but Maggie had already made up her mind. "That's decided. Bella in blue - now Esme…"

Bella let her voice trail off as she began to get unchanged.

After she had put her robe on she went and sat down next to Leah.

"How are you?" Leah whispered, not wanting to interrupt Maggie's 'creative flow'.

"Better," Bella admitted. When Bella had first found Edward and her mother together she had been devastated. She didn't have the best relationship with her mother and this had been the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. Not only did she lose her boyfriend but she lost her mother as well. They were both as guilty as each other.

Esme had been looking after her sick baby and Rose had been studying for some upcoming exams so Bella had rung the next person she was closest to; Leah. Leah was also a logical choice. She wouldn't let Bella mope and she wouldn't try to convince her to go back to him. Bella didn't want sympathy. She wanted ice cream and alcohol. Leah had provided both.

"Good." Leah lightly bumped Bella's shoulder with her own before turning back to watch Maggie explain to the seamstress who had come in exactly what she wanted.

Some time later Bella was sat on the couch in her newly acquired underwear. She'd been in her own little bubble but when she looked up and saw Leah, she was brought straight back to Earth.

"Are you sure I look alright?" Leah's voice asked as she emerged from behind the changing room curtain wearing a deep fuchsia lace lingerie set. The bra pushed her beautiful breasts high and gave her a generous amount of cleavage whilst her underwear showed off her toned thighs and biteable ass.

Bella bit her lip. She was beautiful.

"You look amazing!" Emily complimented her, walking around her and grinning. "They won't be able to take their eyes off you."

A light blush covered Leah's chocolate skin and Bella felt hot. She shifted in her seat slightly. That movement mad Leah look over to her.

"Do I look alright, Bella?" She did a little twirl giving Bella a better glimpse at her ass. "You look uncomfortable." Leah crossed her legs and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"No!" Bella cried. She quickly got up and went over to her. "You look amazing - I'm just a bit hot."

"Are you sure?" Leah placed her hand against Bella's cheek. "You do feel hot, maybe you're getting a cold?"

The word 'cold' had Maggie rushing over.

"You can't get ill now, Bella! It would ruin the show."

"I'll be fine by then, Maggie," Bella reassured her. If Bella was getting ill did Maggie not realise she had no control over her immune system?

"Good." Maggie beamed. "Right," she clapped her hands together. "Go and get changed girls and then we'll practice the routine. The changes to your clothes should be done by tomorrow and then we'll do a run-through in them and hopefully," she crossed her fingers, "we can perform this on Friday."

The girls all gave a cheer. Bella found herself excited for tomorrow as it meant she could get a glimpse at Leah in that lingerie again.

Bella's excitement had morphed into mortification. They'd been rehearsing the routine, everything was going alright; Bella even got to stand right next to Leah but then she'd been distracted when the dark-haired woman had bent over. So distracted, she had in fact gotten too close to the edge of the stage and fallen right off.

The band had stopped playing and Paul, the guitarist, had rushed over and helped her back on to her feet, her ankle throbbing painfully and starting to swell.

Bella was currently sat down with her foot up, a pack of ice on it, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

"How are you doing?" Rachel asked, sitting herself next to Bella and handing her a bottle of water.

"Slightly in pain… a little bit embarrassed… and worried about how angry Maggie is going to be," Bella admitted.

"Don't worry about Maggie. She needs a good fuck and she'll be right as rain." That was Rachel; blunt and straight to the point. "We all know how clumsy you are," Bella's face flamed, "we should really have a safety rail up or something." Bella reached out and lightly smacked the woman on her shoulder.

"Don't smack me!" Rachel chided before she leaned in. "I won't keep your secret if you upset me."

"What secret?" Bella asked, sipping her water.

"You like Leah." The water that had been in Bella's mouth flew out at an alarming rate as she choked and sat forward, Rachel smacking her back.

"Don't make her choke, Rach!" Paul called out from across the bar. "She's already hurt her ankle we don't need her dying too!" The Quileute girl gave him the finger – he blew a kiss back.

Bella stared at Rachel with wide eyes and a wide-open mouth. "How… what…?"

"You were staring," Rachel simply said, patting her on the shoulder and standing back up to rehearse their routine.

Bella had to endure an hour of watching the girls rehearse and she was unable to take her eyes off of Leah. She was wearing a work out top that stopped just below her breasts and leggings that clung to her long legs, not hiding a thing. Leah had a beautiful figure, her stomach was bordering on a six-pack and she had toned legs, thighs and arms. Her breasts were smaller than some of the other girls but if they had been much bigger, they would have looked ridiculous on her frame. Her ass was firm and tight, and Bella wondered how she got it to look like that. She was beautiful.

After rehearsals were over, Bella was pleased to leave. Leah made her feel all hot and bothered and out of sorts. Paul had driven her home and made sure she got in safely and Bella had welcomed the silence of her apartment.

Bella was laid on her sofa, her foot in bandages as she watched some trash television. It was after midnight but because of her time at the club, her sleep patterns were out. She was hoping she would get so bored watching television she would sleep but that plan had yet to work.

Esme and Rose had both text her to make sure she was alright so when her phone buzzed she assumed it was one of them; she was wrong – it was Leah.

I'm outside with chocolate – can I come up?

Bella found herself panicking as she sat bolt right up on the sofa and quickly looked around her apartment to make sure she hadn't left any dirty underwear lying around. It looked presentable enough.

Sure – come right up, the door will be unlocked.

Bella got up and hobbled over to the door, unlocking it before she headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

"Hello?" Leah called a few seconds later, opening the door before she entered her apartment. "I've come to see the patient."

"The patient is fine," Bella reassured her.

"Well I brought you some chocolate," Leah held up a box of the treats, "to help you feel better. But if you feel fine…" Her eyes shined as she teased.

"Chocolate would make me feel better," Bella conceded, smiling back at Leah. There was a silence and Bella turned back to the kettle. "Tea?"

"That would be nice."

Leah stayed by the door, holding the box of chocolates as Bella made the tea. When she turned with the mugs, Leah rushed over.

"Sorry – I should be helping you."

"It's fine."

They made their way over to the couch and sat down, opening up the box of chocolates and starting to eat them.

"How was work tonight?" Bella asked, starting the conversation.

"It was good," Leah nodded. "Emmett was drooling over Rose again." They shared a giggle. "She should just date him. They'd be good for each other."

"She thinks she's too busy for a boyfriend at the moment."

"How are you feeling about Edward?"

Bella shrugged her shoulders. "I'm more upset that I've lost my relationship with my mom than anything else. I thought I would be more bothered about Edward… but I haven't really missed him. I think maybe I didn't like him as much as I thought I did."

Leah was quiet for a few seconds. "I didn't think he was right for you."

Bella looked at Leah and her heart sped up. "Why do you say that?"

"No particular reason – you just didn't look at him like he made you happy or completed you… or whatever." Leah quickly looked away, embarrassed at her own words.

Bella looked down not quite sure what to say and Leah remained silent.

The silence was getting too much and Bella was desperately trying to think of something to say when Leah spoke up.

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Sure."

"They've made some adjustments to my costume for the end of the week and I'm not convinced I look alright. If I put it on could you give me your honest opinion."

"Of course," Bella agreed before remembering that this weeks 'costume' was in fact lingerie. But she couldn't take it back now, could she?

Leah smiled and headed into her bathroom to get changed or unchanged (depending on your perspective). She emerged a few minutes later and Bella's jaw hit the ground.

The bra had been tightened so her breasts were displayed even more prominently, her dark skin a pleasant contrast to the fuchsia colour that had been chosen. The underwear came lover than it did before, resting lowly on her hips.

"What do you think?" Leah asked as she twirled. Once again, Bella got to see her ass.

"Um… well…" Bella couldn't find the words. Somehow "you're so fucking beautiful" seemed like too much to say.

"I knew it!" Leah threw her arms up and sat down next to Bella. "I just can't pull something like this off."

She was so close to Bella that there were only a few centimetres between them. The sweet perfume she used wafted over her and up close her skin seemed to glow.

Bella couldn't think clearly.

"Could you not sit so close?" The questioned emerged from her mouth before she had time to think about it.

"Why?" Leah asked, looking at Bella as if she had grown two heads.

"I can't think clearly when you're this close."

"What?"

"You make me confused and… hot."

"I make you hot?" Leah's mouth quirked up into a smile and she moved closed to Bella. "Do you like me, Bella?"

She couldn't answer.

"Because… I like you." Her eyes were looking right into Bella's now. "When I saw you in that lingerie at the club," she looked down and then back up. "Well, I've not been able to think about anything else since."

Feeling brave, Bella leaned forward and pressed her lips to Leah's. When the other woman didn't respond she pulled back, fearing she had gone too far. Leah stared at her, smiled and then used her hands to pull Bella's face close before she kissed her back.

Her mouth caressed Bella's, softly and gently; her hands stroking her cheeks. Bella's own hands wrapped themselves around Leah's waist and she pulled her closer, her fingers feeling her soft skin and tracing the lace detailing on the bottom of her bra.

Leah's tongue stroked Bella's lips and tongue tasting what she could. Bella reciprocated and then trailed her lips down her neck, licking and sucking at the skin, wanting to leave a mark.

She kissed her way to her breasts, tongue snaking out to taste the cleavage that was laid on offer for her.

"Oh," Leah moaned, head falling back and her hands twisting in Bella's t-shirt. "Mmm."

Bella's hands found the back of her bra and pulled her lips away from Leah's skin slightly. "Can I?"

"Please," Leah begged, head still thrown back and eyes closed in pleasure.

Easily undoing the bra, Bella sat back and gently slid the straps from her shoulders, pushing them until they were at the crooks of her arms. With gentle fingers, she pulled the cups away from the skin, beyond excited to see what was hidden beneath them.

Leah's head came forward and she opened her eyes to watch Bella. Straightening her arms out, they watched each other as Bella slid the bra from her arms before casting her eyes down towards Leah's nipples.

They were a coffee colour resting on caramel skin, peaks pointed towards Bella and the skin around then beginning to bump with gooseflesh.

Bella felt drawn to them. They were beacons calling out to her.

Her mouth descended down and encased the left one. Her tongue swept over the peak, Leah moaning at the sensation. Bella's right hand came up and tugged on the right nipple, pulling and pinching the nub, even twisting it slightly.

"Yes," Leah whispered. Her hips shifted and her thighs rubbed together, seeking some kind of friction.

When Bella had sufficiently wet Leah's left nipple she turned her attention to the right one, performing the same ministrations she had done previously, this time biting down slightly on the tip.

Leah's back arched gracefully into the air and she clasped the fabric of the couch roughly in her fingers.

Bella didn't want to stop, she wanted to see what other sounds she could get Leah to emit.

Bella dragged her lips away from Leah's wonderful breasts and down her rib cage. Her tongue traced her skin, tasting the salt that had gathered there from her sweat.

"Move back," she encouraged, pushing slightly on Leah's stomach.

Leah did so willingly, panting and moaning.

When she was sat back against the couch armchair, Bells shifted herself so she was in a more comfortable position, mindful of her foot.

Her fingers hooked into the sides of Leah's underwear and she glanced up to make sure she was alright with it.

Leah nodded and added a "please" which just made Bella smile.

Bella pulled her underwear down her legs, flinging it somewhere in the living room when she had completely removed it.

She took a moment to take Leah in. Her skin was flawless, long legs gave way to slim hips and an equally slim waist and breasts that were the perfect size for Bella's hands and mouth.

Slowly sliding her hands up the outside of Leah's smooth legs, she twisted her wrists when she got to her thighs, parting them so she could see Leah's pussy.

It was exquisite. Her dark hair had been trimmed into a neat triangle and gave way to dark puffy pussy lips hiding a swollen clit, moisture began to leak from her slit.

Leaning forward, Bella placed a kiss just above her slit and then slid her mouth down. Her tongue circled her bud twice before she gently probed it with her tongue. This motion earned her a deep groan from Leah.

God. Leah's taste was quintessentially Leah; tangy with a sweet edge to it. Bella lapped at her greedily, using her tongue to flick and caress her clit, drawing deep moans and whimpers from Leah.

Moving herself slightly lower, Bella found herself face to face with Leah's slit. It was dripping with moisture and was swollen a deep pink colour, begging to be touched and tasted.

Bella leaned forward and very carefully inserted the tip of her tongue inside Leah causing her to arch up back up painfully high and cry out.

"Bella!" Her own fingers were working her nipples. Pinching and twisting them she was working herself up into a frenzy.

Bella smiled against her pussy and dove in once again, her tongue delving deeper now and tasting as much as Leah as she could.

"Oh!" Leah cried out again. Her eyes were tightly closed and her hips were thrusting themselves onto Bella's tongue, pulling her in deeper.

Bella pulled back and swept her fingers in an upwards motion up Leah's slit, coating her digits in the chocolate beauty's divine juices. She resisted the urge to lick the goodness off and instead pinched her clit quickly before inserting one finger inside.

"Shit!" Leah groaned, her hips rotating slightly as she began to lose herself to the pleasure.

Bella added another and curled them upwards, knowing she would hit that spot that she liked to find when she was pleasuring herself.

"Come on, Leah," Bella urged, her own hips starting to grind into the sofa and provide some much-needed friction. "I want you to cum for me." Her words caused a flood of moisture to leave Leah's body. "I want to cum for me now."

With that final sentence, Bella leaned her head down and sucked Leah's clit into her mouth, applying a vigorous pressure and using her tongue to lightly move the bud from side to side. At the same time, she curled her fingers upwards and flicked.

Leah screamed. "Oh yes! Yes! Yes!"

Her pussy clamped down on Bella's fingers and her clit seemed to swell. And then she was coming. Warm liquid gushing from her pussy as the pleasure radiated through her body. Her limbs shook, her eyes squeezed closed and she didn't breath, determined to hold onto the pleasure for as long as possible.

As she came down from her orgasm, Bella placed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and then rested her head on the warm skin, watching Leah bask in the afterglow of her orgasm.

Slowly, Leah's eyes opened and her dark brown ones met Bella's lighter brown ones and they exchanged a smile. Leah opened her mouth and the words that came out sent a thrill down Bella's spine.

"Your turn."

#princesstreacle #princesstreaclefanfiction #twilight #kinktober 2019 #lingerie #bella and leah #femme slash #bella swan #leah clearwater #smut #lemons

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themelonsins · 6 years ago

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Whirlwind [sickfick holla]

okay this is based on this post I made a while back u know but it was so cute that I had to write something for it now anyways i love dimitri but i love torturing him much much more. theres also a lot of canon events mentioned and if theres any confusion of those im v happy to answer

Warnings: stuffing, emeto, mentions of decapitation (?)

Things for the University of Supers Honors College were in a complete spiral. The constant villain attacks, Scarlet going missing. The most devastating occurrence was the death of Audrey’s second head-Twoey. Not only did this leave Audrey out of commission for weeks on end, but severely depressed as well. So, the gang-save Scarlet and Xavier who, upon her return, decided there was much they needed to discuss as a couple-decided to take Audrey to a nearby amusement park to brighten her day. They’ve missed her smile oh so dearly. Dimitri orchestrated the whole thing-spoiler this day doesn’t end well for our well meaning Russian baby.

“Ready to go, Audrey,” Dimitri slung his shoulder around his green-tinted, mutant friend. The top of her head was wrapped with a sort of bandage, for safety precautions. The female smiled, her sharp canines glinting brightly.

“Yeah, I’m ready to have some fun after being cooped up in the infirmary for weeks,” Audrey breathed deeply, watching as Jesse came forward, Audrey’s purse slung over his shoulder. “I’m gonna ride with Jesse, do you mind? I mean, I know this was your plan.” Dimitri just waved his hand, giving Audrey his most handsome grin.

“Nah, of course. Jesse’s a handsome guy, of course you want to spend a car ride with him,” Dimitri winked at the two, a blush forming on the apples of Audrey’s cheeks and a slight one on Jesse’s. “Don’t kiss him too hard, he’ll make you never want to stop.” Audrey burst out laughing, and Jesse froze in his tracks, face exploding in a bright red shade. Rie hit Dimitri’s chest as he laughed in a rhythm with Audrey. Pulling Audrey’s arm, Jesse let out an embarrassed blush as he pulled Audrey down to the door.

“You’re dead Romanov,” Jes yelled as he was opening the door, Audrey’s giggles loud from behind him.

“Love you!” Dimitri called back. “Ready, Rie?” Dimitri’s electric gaze followed Rie as she skimmed through her purse.

“Yep! Let’s go.” She beamed, skipping out the door. Dimitri smiled at her while she skipped, though something was bubbling in the pit of his belly as he followed suit.

***

The car ride to the amusement park wasn’t doing the dull ache in his stomach any favors. Any bump in the road only made it worse. The heavy rock music, altering between RnB tracks provided a nice distraction from it. Listening to Rie’s beautiful voice belting to the track of No Scrubs by TLC, Dimitri chuckled while his stomach let out a loud, ugly gurgle.

“Whoa,” He breathed, a smile on his face though that gurgle forced a ripple of pain to pull through his stomach. Turning the music down, Rie looked at him with a devilish grin on her face.

“Wow, Romanov, hungry?” She teased, waiting until they were stopped to start poking at his, already, sensitive tummy. He giggled a little, though the poking provided more pain than a ticklish sensation. “Do you want to stop and get some food?”

“Nah. Nope,” Dimitri shook his head, starting to drive once the light turned green. “I can wait, don’t worry about it.” Rie snorted.

“Whatever you say, Sparky.” Her smile was almost contagious, yet he definitely felt that whatever war was raging in his tummy wasn’t due to hunger.

***

When Dimitri told you getting off that first roller coaster was the worst experience of his life, he wasn’t exaggerating. The twists and turns, the loops, only made the nausea so much worse than it was in the car. He hid it fairly well with cheering and yelling, yet he stopped a good way through because he was too scared that bile or vomit would fly out of his mouth and onto Audrey who was in front of him. Walking off, the after effects of the coaster were hitting him hard. He felt dizzy and like he was about to throw up everywhere.

And Audrey jumping on his back with a loud giggle didn’t make matters easier. Yet he mustered through with a smile.

“That was so so so much fun, Dimitri!” Audrey laughed loudly, Rie and Jesse trailing behind her.

“Yeah it was,” Smiling, he held his hands on her waist to set her down gently. Yet she couldn’t help but bounce. Hahnna and Ezra found their way to the group. Both of them decided sitting out on more endorphin rising rides would be best for their weak stomachs as they both had really bad motion sickness. Maybe Dimitri should join them.

Nah. Nope. Not gonna be a pussy. Not today.

“How bout a few more rides before we go get something to eat?” Rie suggested, which was met with an agreement from the group. Dimitri remained silent, the mere mention of gross, greasy amusement park food made his stomach churn in a not so fun way.

“Can we go on baby rides, please?” Hahnna requested with a smile and absolutely no one could say no to that girls sweet smile. Honestly, Dimitri never loved a suggestion more.

The baby rides, as Hahnna called them, provided a really nice relief onto his struggling tummy. Every time they walked to a new ride, he’d rub small circles into his abdomen, hoping to provide more comfort. To no avail, but the heat of his hand radiating through his shirt felt lovely.

***

This was the part of the day he didn’t want to happen. Dimitri didn’t want to eat anything, he felt so awful. While his friends were ordering food, he had every intention of paying for Rie and not actually getting anything.

That idea received a good amount of backlash from his dear friends.

“Dimitri you haven’t eaten anything all day,” Ezra pouted, putting his hands on his friends shoulders.

“Yeah, besides, your stomach was growling like a caged animal this morning,” Rie teased, rubbing a circle into his belly. Dimitri had to hold back a groan from how nice her hand felt on his achy stomach. He watched her brows furrow, yet didn’t think anything of it. Swallowing back whatever he was feeling, Dimitri caved. He ordered chicken tenders, the lightest thing they had and what would hopefully be gentle on his stomach.

The laughter and conversation they had while they ate was such a wonderful distraction from the pain. Though, every time he swallowed food into that absolutely pain filled belly, Dimitri could feel the ache grow and feel the bloat starting. His part in the conversation started to dwindle. Instead, he focused on rubbing his belly in smooth circles, and doing his best to not unbutton his pants in public. Though it wasn’t long before a loud belch rippled past his lips. In response he covered his mouth, a blush forming on the apples of his cheeks.

“Bless you!” Hahnna smiled, doing her best to joke around with Dimitri’s no-doubt embarrassment. Rie looked over to Dimitri, concern glazed over in her eyes. Audrey laughed, waving her hand back and forth.

“I’ll give that like an eight point five,” She joked with a smile.

“I’ll take it.” Dimitri joked.

***

Dimitri’s walking pace to the next ride most certainly slowed down, and the only one who noticed was Rie, who kept her speed low to match Dimitri’s. When she was this close, she could hear how angry his tummy was. It was gurgling loudly.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sliding her arm across his waist. He leaned into her, grateful for the balance she was providing. “Something not agreeing with you?”

“I’ve felt so sick all day, honeybee,” Dimitri admitted, running his hand across his bloated belly.

“Sweetheart! Why didn’t you say anything?” She gasped. “Sit out from this next ride Dimitri, now.” Dimitri shook his head, getting in line for the ride against Rie’s will.

That was the worst mistake Dimitri made on this day. Everyone had their endorphins rushed due to so many loops and turns, but all Dimitri felt was the urge to yak. They were all talking and laughing, but all Dimitri could hear was white noise. He spotted a trashcan and that was it. That was the end for our smooth as butter Dimitri. Instantly, Dimitri began to vomit. The little he ate coming right back up along with bile and water.

“Oh my God, Dimitri,” Jesse yelped, running to his best friends side, a cool hand running down his back. This only helped everything come up easier. “What the Hell, man?”

“Dimitri are you okay?” Audrey asked, running to his side. Her hands felt up and down his stomach, feeling the bloat. “Oh, Sparky you’re so bloated.” Dimitri couldn’t respond, the vomit coming up his throat prevented any words. Tears began rushing down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Oh sweetie, don’t cry.” When Dimitri pulled away from the trash can, his hands felt numb and he slid onto the floor, groaning in absolute and utter pain.

“How long have you been sick?” Hahnna asked, kneeling in front of him.

“All day,” Was his hoarse response, hand raising to wipe his lips with the back of his hand.

“Baby,” Jesse huffed, pushing Dimitri’s bangs out of his sweaty forehead.

“I’m so sorry Audrey,” Dimitri choked, and he felt like crying more. He ruined this day for Audrey. “I didn’t want to ruin this for you.”

“You didn’t.” Audrey hushed him, cupping his cheeks. “Rie will you please take him back to the dorms?”

“Like I’d do anything else,” Rie smiled softly down at the sickly boy in front of her.

***

The car ride home was silent. Dimitri was curled in the back seat, trying to sleep but, like earlier, the bumps in the road made him feel so much more sick. She lead him back inside, and lay him gently on the couch. This was all in silence. She grabbed the heating pad, plugged it in and laid it on Dimitri’s aching belly. It was still so bloated, even if it was empty. Kneeling beside the couch, she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Feel any better?” Rie asked.

“Slightly,” Dimitri breathed. “I still feel like my stomach was wringed out but,” sighing he curled into the couch. “My tummy hurts.”

“I know,” She cooed, rubbing circles into his lower belly, not covered by the heating pad. The doors to the common area opened and the group rejoined Rie and Dimitri in the common area. Audrey held a giant teddy bear in her arms as she walked in, Jesse with ginger ale.

“Hey,” Audrey smiled. “I’m so sorry your sick, sweetie,” She sighed. “So I got you this bear. You’ve been so sweet with what happened to me. The least we can do is take care of you.” Jesse set the ginger ale on the table.

“This is for when you feel a little better. Just to get something in your system,” Jesse offered, arms crossed. Dimitri smiled.

“Thank you guys, I appreciate this but,” Dimitri burped in the back of his hand. “Can I just take a nap out here?”

“Of course you can!” Audrey beamed. “But expect a load of belly rubs and cuddles from us when you get up!”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#dimitri #audrey #jesse #rie #hahnna #ezra #belly rubs #belly bloat #upset tummy #emetophilia #emeto fic #sickfic #stuffing #i suppose #drabbles #super squad

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likethetailofacomet · 6 years ago

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Stay, You Belong

Getting close to the end now friends!!

Warning: stalker situation, eerie scenario. alex is gross, we can all agree on that.

Ice. Through her veins and on her skin and in her lungs, cutting and slicing like shards of glass. Cold. A flash of frigid reality splashing her in the face and making her sputter for air. Her heart hammered numbly as fog invaded her brain, hazy and dizzy as she blinked over and over again trying to force her eyes to focus. She couldn't move, frozen where she sat with her hand on his knee and her chest heaving with the uneven breaths that were fighting to escape her. He held the frame in his shaking hand, but she could see that it wasn't the only thing in the box. There was another framed picture, and one printed out on plain paper, without a frame. The first was Liam and Drake, their arms slung around one another like the brothers they were, smiling in the sunshine at the racetrack from a few years back. Both framed photos had black grease pencil lettering written over the glass reading “End of the Line” in shaky handwriting. End of the line. Those words and the way that they were scrawled made her sick, waves of nausea roiling in her stomach at the thought of Drake or Liam or both of them meeting any sort of end. But Drake's eyes were wide and stuck on the third photo, the one without the frame. Claire shifted closer to him and peeked farther into the box and when she did it happened all over again. Ice. Cold. Sick.

It was them. The two of them from just two days ago. The grainy quality of the photo told her that it was most likely taken from afar and zoomed in heavily, through the window of his bedroom, capturing the moment that she'd wrapped him in a blanket as he kissed her head and told her about his favorite photo, the family portrait in his hand. She broke, a sound coming from her mouth that didn't sound human, and she began to shake and hyperventilate. Drake felt her trembling next to him and it snapped him from his trance. He placed the photo back in the box and turned to her, fear and anger and hopelessness, love and sadness all clear in his eyes. He reached for her and drew her close, his own breaths coming quick and shallow. I need to protect her. I can't protect her. We need to get out of here...his thoughts raced to get ahead of one another as his heart thumped against hers.

She let him clutch her to his chest as her hands pressed him closer to her own body. But even as her throat tried to close, even as her heart was trying to run itself into the ground and her vision swam with dots and swirls, she shook her head and cleared her thoughts. They needed to move. “Drake?” she put every effort into piecing her voice together, needing him to hear her.

He was in my house. His thoughts were loud, reverberating, and dangerously close to the way he'd felt when he'd punched that wall. He held her closer, his chin resting on her head, breathing raggedly through his open mouth.

“Drake,” she said again, straining to make her voice louder as she tried to pull back to look him in the eye.

He was in my fucking house. He's been watching us. That sick fuck has been here, watching us and waiting...just to toy with me...with her...Her. Claire. He blinked and looked down at her just as she'd said his name...for the first time? No, it couldn't have been, from the look in her eye and the way that she was struggling to move in his embrace. He loosened the grip he had on her, tighter than he'd realized he was holding her. “Claire,” he gasped, as though he were stunned to see her.

“Drake,” relief took some of the anguish from her eyes as he acknowledged her, finally, still leaving plenty behind. “Drake, we need to get out of here. Now...we...where do we go?” She tentatively reached up and placed her hand to the side of his face, a few days of growth bristling against her palm, and her touch silenced his raging thoughts, bringing him back to her, to right now. “Where do we go?” she asked him again, her eyes pleading with him to have an answer.

The stupor fell away leaving him disappointed in himself for letting those thoughts get so close to her again, even if he'd been able to steer himself back, even if she'd been able to guide him. He shook his head and exhaled, kissing her temple before pulling his phone out. “I need to call Bastien,” he told her as he dialed, and she settled against him, his right arm still around her, but just holding, not crushing. Supporting and protecting, not clutching greedily. One ring, two, and on the third that ever calm “Hello, Drake, is everything alright?” was in his ear, helping to anchor him.

“No Bas,” he said, “it's not.” He relayed everything to Bastien, running his fingertips over Claire's arm as he did, needing to soak up as much of her as he could, every second that he could. This box made him feel like somewhere a clock was ticking and he didn't know what for or what would happen when it struck, but he felt her thigh against his, felt her chest moving with her breaths against his side, and he tried to commit those sensations to memory, suddenly feeling the importance of this moment, right now.

“I'm coming,” he answered, and Drake could hear keys jingling, already in his hand.

“I have my truck, I could come to you, quicker that way,” he suggested.

“No,” he said, tone becoming more serious and urgent. “Listen to me, Drake, stay right where you are. Don't go inside, don't get into the truck. You don't know what else Alex did.” Drake understood. “I'll be there in less than twenty minutes,” an engine revved and tires peeled out of the garage as the call dropped out.

He put his phone back in his pocket and combed his left hand through her hair. “Bastien's on his way,” he said, a slight hollowness present. He still couldn't believe what was happening, his eyes scanning every inch of the tree line before realizing something that shot a numbing chill down his spine- his back was to the front door, and there was no way of knowing if someone was inside. He slowly turned his back to the railing so he could keep both the door and the darkening woods in his sight line, trying not to let her on to what he was doing. “We'll be okay, Berkley,” he said softly, trying to convince them both.

Claire's thoughts drifted back to all those nightmares she'd had and how they'd been few and far between for the past week or so. And how that was likely to change. She sighed into Drake's side wondering when they'd get their chance to really live this love they'd found. As the sky turned violet and the trees turned to black silhouettes, Bastien's headlights came up the driveway and he parked the car, stepping out. “Come on,” he said, silver eyes sharp as he threw a glance around the cabin and surrounding area before letting them land on Drake and Claire. “Grab the box, let's go,” he said, and Drake rose, helping Claire to her feet as he took the box, feeling heavier than it was with the meaning outweighing the physical objects inside of it. They got into Bastien's car and he drove away, getting them back to the palace in less than twenty minutes, just like he'd said before.

He had already called ahead to tell the rest of the guard to be aware, and also to pull more resources to the palace. He set up a debriefing with King Constantine and Liam, promising that he'd handle all of the talking, but insisting that they both be present. They nodded and followed him down the halls of the palace to the King's study, addressing the guard outside the door and knocking once. “Come in,” Constantine's professional, political voice rang out. Bastien opened the impressive, hand carved wooden door and the three of them entered to find King Constantine seated at his desk, and Liam standing behind one of the high backed leather chairs, his hands gripping the top of the headrest. Bastien quickly relayed the details of what had happened, showing the Rys men the photos, both framed and not. Constantine scoffed to himself and Liam shot him a look. “More of this. She should have gone back to America,” he said.

“That's neither here nor there right now, father,” Liam said, surprising Drake with the tone he took with his father. He might be next in line but he wasn't king just yet. “What's important is ensuring everyone's safety until this group is caught.” It was clear that they had differing views on many aspects of the recent developments, and both Drake and Claire shifted uncomfortably behind Bastien, who stood like a pillar, unmoved. No doubt he'd seen worse spats among royals in his time with the guard.

Constantine grumbled under his breath but ultimately nodded, and Bastien laid out the current plan, describing what each branch of security would be designated to for the next 3 days, until the season would finally end at the Beaumont Estate, and the suitors and other nobles would all go home, lessening the spread of security that occurred when they all gathered at court. The nobility was not nearly as popular with the citizens as they thought, and Bastien could see why, when their instincts were like Constantine's- blame Claire. Blame someone else. The outsider, not one of us, the perfect ones. But Liam could be different, and Liam was why Bastien was still in the King's Guard at all- he knew his country was in trouble, and he thought the best way for him to help it was to ensure that Liam got his chance to make his mark and turn things around. If it weren't for his more modern viewpoints and open mindedness, Bastien would have left for Paris immediately after Leo's abdication. When the meeting ended, Bastien escorted the King back to his quarters, leaving Drake and Claire with Liam.

“He was in my house, Li...in my father's house, my family's house...” Drake swallowed, his throat working hard to choke down everything he was feeling. He was leaning against the bookshelf that lined one wall, Claire seated in the chair to his side.

“I know,” Liam said. “I know, Drake. We're going to catch him and anyone he's working with. All of them.” He said it with a sort of certainty that made it clear that he didn't think it would be easy, that he knew the risk and the danger, but knew that this needed to end, and that it would. And soon.

“Liam,” Claire piped up and both men turned their eyes to her, Drake's warm and loving, Liam's clear and reassuring. “What your father said...”

“Don't give it another thought, Claire, you are welcome here as long as you want to stay.” He said it seriously and genuinely.

Claire nodded, a small, tired smile for him. “Thank you, I know...but, was he right? Should I have left?”

“Of course not, Berkley,” Drake stepped towards her and dropping to both knees in front of her, taking her small hands in his, bringing them to his lips. Liam smiled at his friend in love. “Of course not, Adelfi psychi. You're not the problem. You could never be the problem.” His thumb ran over her knuckles and his eyes narrowed quickly before he leaned in to kiss her nose, his breath lingering on her skin.

“Drake's right, Claire.” Liam said. “Cordonia has it's problems, but you are far from one of them. We will catch this group. I won't let my country be taken by terrorists, I won't let that happen to my people.” He looked and sounded like a King already. He was going to be the leader Cordonia has needed for decades. Bastien came back to escort Liam, leaving Drake and Claire to head to Drake's suite.

They headed inside, realizing they were still in the clothes they'd hiked in earlier that morning, bits of leaves still in their hair and dirt on their jeans and hands. “Shower?” he asked, and she nodded, following him quietly into the bathroom. He ran the water and steam fogged up the glass as they removed their clothing. “Claire...” he said her name as she peeled her shirt off, catching her off guard with his lips on hers, running his tongue along her bottom lip before delving it into his mouth, one hand going to the small of her back, her bare skin warm from the heat of the small tiled room, the other to the back of her neck, fingers curling gently around it and through her hair. He pressed closer as he used up all the air in his lungs for that kiss, releasing her and taking a breath. “Do you really want to leave Cordonia? Did you ask if you should because you want to?”

Her eyebrows came together and her forehead wrinkled. “No, Drake,” she kissed him. “No, I love you, I want to stay with you...I...I just want this to be over...”

He took her hand, careful to keep his cast out of the stream of water as he helped her under the waterfall shower head. “I know, baby,” his arms snaked around her wet skin and pulled her back to his chest. “Me too,” he kissed her neck, her throat, behind her ear, nibbling on her earlobe, pulling at the silver stud there. “But I love you, no matter how long it takes. No matter what happens. And Claire?”

“Yeah?” her response was breathy from the emotional exhaustion of the day, the heat of the shower, the heat of his touch and his lips.

“You belong here. Here with me, okay? And we'll be okay.”

“Okay, Walker,” she turned and kissed his chest. “Then I'll stay.” she smiled up at him and they fell into another breathless kiss, the hot water spilling around them, plinking and splattering around their feet as their lips danced and they took a moment just to be still.

tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @sleepwalkingelite @zaffrenotes @mind-reader1 @brightpinkpeppercorn @agent-bossypants @andy-loves-corgis @gardeningourmet @endlessly-searching-for-you @indiacater @cordoniantrash @jovialyouthmusic @akrenich @drakewalkerrosenberg @roonarific @the-whiskeywife @endlesstaylormckenzie @nekkidmolerat @the-everlasting-dream

#ltla #learning to love again #drake x mc #drake walker #drake x claire #claire berkley #bastien #king constantine #liam rys #end of the line #seven devils #trr au #the royal romance #choices fanfiction

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astridthevalkyrie · 7 years ago

Text

A Game of Pretend (Revised)

Modern AU. Hiccup and Astrid are having a normal conversation on the phone, or so Astrid thinks. Oneshot.

Revised version, with thanks to @athingofvikings’s contributing.

The cliffhanger is finally resolved!

There wasn't any blood on his face, but Hiccup still felt his vision go blurry. His fingers were touching the sticky hot liquid on his stomach, trying to staunch the flow. With a painful grunt, he slipped away from the wall that had been holding him up, and he fell to the dirty ground; his injured arm took the bulk of the impact and he cried out despite himself, a few tears splashing the ground without his permission.

He laid there for a moment, and them realized that his phone was still in his back pocket. It took nearly every bit of effort he had, but he managed to twist his phone out from his pocket, managing to keep his screams down to agonized grunts.

The screen was cracked, and he managed to wryly comment, “Here goes nothing...” and hit the power button.

Emergency Call hovered in front of him as the screen lit up.

The ambulance wouldn't get here on time. There was no point. This was it.

He wasn't going to bother calling them. Hiccup shakily unlocked the phone, and hit the shortcut labeled with Astrid’s name and a phone icon.

After three terrifying rings, his wife picked up the phone.

"Hello? Hiccup?"

"Hey, Ast," he grit out, not making a single agonized sound, no matter how much he wanted to cry out in pain, "what's up?"

Her voice sounded relieved over the phone. "Everything's fine at the office. How did it go? No injuries or anything?"

Hiccup laughed - it would come out as cocky to her, ironic to him. "Of course not. You know me - careful is my middle name."

"I thought it was horrendous."

They both laughed - Hiccup rested his head against the wall with his blood on it, hanging on to her voice. He was going to die. He was going to die right here.

“Your day doing all right?” he asked. “I went for a walk after the meeting to try out the new prosthetic.”

“How did it go?”

“All right,” he managed, glancing at the broken stump of shattered fiberglass and bent metal attached to his leg. “How about you?”

“Well, I finished up work early, and...”

He kept the conversation going, wanting to hear her cheerful voice. He didn't want to let go of her, but if he was going to, he didn't want to hear her cry. It might make the pain even worse. It was selfish, but he needed this.

His breath started coming out short, so he let Astrid do most of the talking, which he had no problem with anyway. She told him about her day, and Hiccup felt his eyelids trying to close, but he kept them open for as long as he could, until it seemed unbearable and there were tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Astrid," he whispered, interrupting what she was saying, "I love you."

Her laugh was the last thing he heard as the phone slipped from his hand and he slumped over.

"I love you too, babe. I had a surprise to tell you at home, but since you're getting all emotional on me right now, I'll just tell you. I, uh, well, you know the pregnancy tests I bought yesterday? Hiccup - they came out positive! ...Hello? Are you speechless, I bet Fishlegs ten that you would be. Come on, babe, say something. Hello? Hiccup? Hiccup, we're having a kid! Hiccup?"

Astrid dove through the hospital doors almost before they managed to open in front of her and ran, her phone still held to her ear. "I'm here! Where do I go!?"

"Follow the red line on the floor to the ER, Mrs. Haddock," the calm voice of the EMT said, and then there was a moment's hesitation. "And I'm sorry, but I have to ask... since the muggers took his wallet, do you know if he's an organ donor?"

Astrid felt her whole body chill at that question and the implication behind it. Was she too late…? Taking a deep breath, she nodded, and then realized that the EMT couldn't see the motion. "He is. Said that it was important... but that he never expected... Oh god!" She choked, hearing Hiccup's sarcastic comment in her memories. It's like insurance, right? You do it just in case, not because it's actually going to happen...

She found the red line and started to run down the hallway at top speed, her stomach churning from something aside from the morning sickness. Curse the hospital’s inadequate parking; she'd had to find a spot on the other side of the hospital from the emergency room... a spot not far from where her OG-BYN's office was, actually. Now she had to run like she’d never run before.

"Ma'am, it's fine! We just had to know. Just in case."

She didn't have the breath to reply; she was running flat out down the hallway, darting around other patients and doctors like they were opponents on the sports field. At least one orderly or nurse yelled at her to stop running, but she ignored them.

The red line of paint on the worn linoleum of the floor and the phone at her ear were the entirety of her existence.

"How is he?" she gasped out, still clutching the phone to her ear like a lifeline. An hour ago, she'd been ready to share the news with Hiccup that he was going to be a father.

Now... she might be a widow before the nice dinner that she'd left half-assembled on the kitchen counter. The front door to their home was hanging open from her hurry to get here.

"We've got him stable, but he's lost a lot of blood from the stab wounds, and there's internal bleeding from the beating he took. We've got three IVs giving him whole blood, plus saline. We're going to get him into the operating room as soon as the surgeon is ready to deal with the gut wou--shit! Stop that bleeder!"

A flurry of alarms came over the phone as Astrid rounded a corner at speed, nearly crashing into some old grandfather using a walker followed by his IV stand. "Paul!? EMT Emerson!? What's happening?"

The EMT didn't answer, but the talk she was hearing over the phone--Hiccup's phone, which she had still not hung up on since this nightmare had begun forty minutes ago, and she was going to kick his ass for not calling the ambulance as soon as the muggers had left him in that alley--terrified her. Not their tone, but the content hidden among the professional jargon. She understood quite well what a 'crashing BP' meant, or 'internal hemorrhaging.'

The red line terminated in front of a pair of battered swing doors, above which there was a sign reading EMERGENCY ROOM.

She burst through the doors just as the phone delivered a shrill alarm to her ear, and the call for a crash cart.

Fishlegs sat next to Astrid as the machines beeped around them.

Three hours of surgery. Sixteen pints of blood. A nicked artery in the intestines that had torn open as soon as they'd started raising his blood pressure. And six stab wounds to the abdomen for the blood to leak out of, plus broken bones, cracked ribs, badly bruised kidneys and liver, a perforated intestine, and purpling bruises on his skin whose imprints made clear impressions of boot heels and fists.

If they hadn't had him in the ER right at that moment when the artery had burst, he would have died. As it was, the surgeon had told them that it had been touch and go at several points as they’d sutured his arteries shut and had to remove part of his liver.

All over forty dollars and a worn leather wallet and irrational hate over someone who ‘walked funny’.

They'd already caught the three skinheads who had decided that beating up on a guy with a prosthetic leg would be a fun way to pass a little time. The one with the knife--still wet with traces of Hiccup's blood caught in the crevasses--had been charged with attempted murder, and his buddies, who had held Hiccup up to be stabbed, were being charged with aiding and abetting. They hadn’t gone far; just around the corner to a nearby bar where they’d bought some beers and snacks with Hiccup’s credit card.

They were protesting that they were innocent, but that was a little hard to get away with when one of them had been caught with Hiccup's wallet, doing gross things with Hiccup's pictures of Astrid, and another's boots made perfect matches for the bruises.

The fascist symbols on the boot heels that matched the one on the bruise above Hiccup's kidneys were rather a giveaway...

Fishlegs took a deep sigh. Stoick would see to it that the two-legged animals that had nearly killed his son would be prosecuted. Meanwhile, Astrid was finally asleep in the chair next to him.

Now... they just had to wait for Hiccup to wake up.

And hope that nothing else would go wrong.

Meanwhile, she had a death grip on his half-broken phone, which she'd reclaimed from the EMTs during the surgery.

He reached over to take it from her and put it to charge with hers, but her eyes snapped open as soon as he touched it. An instant later, she managed to pull the punch to his gut so that it only hurt, rather than knocking the wind from him.

Staggering back, he wheezed, "You weren't asleep."

"I tried, but I can't. Not with these... things beeping."

Fishlegs held his hand to his aching gut and nodded. "Okay."

The nurse came in as the two of them were looking at each other. Ignoring them, she added something to Hiccup's IV.

"What's that?" Astrid asked anxiously, like she had for every addition to the IV bag in the last six hours.

"Antibiotic for the gastrointestinal perforation--we want to prevent peritonitis from developing," she said professionally.

"And that means?" Astrid asked desperately.

The nurse gave a professionally even smile. "Due to the injuries to the intestines, the bacteria inside could leak out into the abdominal cavity and cause infections," she said. "So we're giving him a standard post-op prophylactic antibiotic."

Despite himself, Fishlegs asked, "What about the chance of resistant bacterial infection?"

The nurse gave him a momentary irritated look, as Astrid asked, "What's that?"

Sighing and shooting Fishlegs another dirty look, she said, "Some bacteria have evolved resistance to the standard antibiotics." She nodded to indicate Hiccup. "If he does come down with such an infection, we'll use the second-line antibiotics." She reached out to Astrid. "Your husband will be fine."

Astrid nodded and then turned green. Staggering over to the room's wastebasket, she managed to get her face over it before she vomited into it.

"Ma'am... are you alright?" the nurse asked, sounding somewhat concerned.

Fishlegs winced, and stepped over to help Astrid, even if that was limited to handing her a bottle of water and holding her hair up out of the way. Even as he did so, it felt wrong for him to be doing so, like he was usurping his friend's place at his wife's side.

Astrid retched again, and gasped out, "I'm pregnant."

"Oh. And..." the nurse glanced at Hiccup. "He's the father?" There was a pause. "Does he know?"

Astrid gave a half-retch, half-sob. "I told him... just as he was passing out from blood loss."

The nurse considered that and said, "I'll be right back."

She left, and Fishlegs helped Astrid, whose legs were shaking, back into the chair, and twisted open the bottle of water for her.

In the background, the machines continued to beep.

Hiccup was alive... stable... and not waking up anytime soon. The damage was just too severe, and his body was focusing on healing itself. If he woke up now, he’d be in agony.

Despite himself, Fishlegs took out his own phone and did a search.

He shouldn't have... because Astrid heard his little hissing gasp, and snatched the phone from his hands without so much as a question.

He grimaced, and a few moments later, she found what he'd searched for.

"One in twenty-five patients gets infected in the hospital!?" She looked up at Fishlegs, her expression one of despair. "Please, please, tell me that he'll be okay."

"He'll be okay," Fishlegs said with as much confidence as he could muster... and resisting the urge to tell her about MRSA, which was his biggest worry.

He looked at the unconscious body on the bed. Hiccup's prosthesis was busted, kicked to pieces by the brutes who had attacked him, and his friend looked so small and broken, his body pierced by tubes and kept alive with machines.

The doctors had told them that if he made it through the night, he'd likely survive.

It was two in the morning.

And Fishlegs wanted to see his friend learn that he'd be a father.

Hang in there, Hiccup. Just keep living. Please.

Snotlout’s face was red by the time he reached the room Hiccup was in. He saw Astrid, looking ill and leaning against the wall, and Fishlegs, rocking back and forth on a chair with his eyes closed.

And then he saw his cousin, looking in the worst condition Snotlout had ever seen him in, with bruises and cuts and surrounded by machines.

Astrid saw him first, and she opened her mouth, but no words came out. He walked over to her and hugged her tightly. Her eyes were red and bloodshot.

“You’re going to be an uncle,” she whispered in his ear.

Snotlout’s eyes widened and he pulled back, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded with her eyes looking at the floor. “You’re actually…”

“Hiccup p-passed out either before or as I was telling him.”

“Holy shit,” Snotlout whispered, sitting down with his head in his hands. Fishlegs clapped a hand on his shoulder.

His cousin couldn’t have just called a damn ambulance instead of his wife. He had to go ahead and be romantic instead. What about romanticizing life? Astrid hadn’t been the one in danger.

But really, what else could Snotlout expect?

He settled in on one of the uncomfortable chairs and held Astrid’s hand as she stared dully at the monitors. Once, he would have done anything to be holding her like this.

Now, he wanted to yell and scream at that younger version of himself with a shout of “Are you happy now!?”

Because he wasn’t.

Beep... beep... beep... beep...

Snotlout hadn’t been in a hospital for anything worse than a broken arm from a bad moment on the field since his and Hiccup’s grandfather had died when they were young.

And his memories kept reminding him of that moment of supreme loss when old Hamish had breathed his last and the beeps... stopped.

He glanced over at Fishlegs, who had gotten here first; the big man looked worn out and tired, and said quietly, “‘Legs, head down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. I’ll stay with ‘em.”

Fishlegs looked like he was going to protest for a moment, and then nodded. As he went to the door, Snotlout cocked his head towards Astrid. “And get something for her, too.”

Another nod, and his friend left to get food.

It wouldn’t help Hiccup any for his wife to starve herself... and she was eating for two.

The nurse came by on her floor check, and he introduced himself as a part of the family. He wanted to take her aside and ask, honestly, how bad it was... but there was no way that he was going to leave Astrid alone, or ask that in front of her.

So he watched as the woman in the blue scrubs did inscrutable things to the various machines, bags and tubes--what she was checking for, Snotlout had no idea--and then left.

He handled the nurse the next few times she came to check on Hiccup. Fishlegs just wasn’t handling it, and he didn’t want Astrid to be lingering on every word the woman said, she was already sick to her stomach.

Then he would sit back and try to calm himself down. It was going to be a long night, and Snotlout didn’t know if Hiccup was going to make it.

Astrid watched as the technician unhooked Hiccup from the dialysis machine; his color was much better than it had been before the treatment. The kick to Hiccup’s back had injured his kidneys, and to let them heal and keep Hiccup from poisoning himself, they hooked her unconscious husband up to the machine for a few hours each day.

They were also uncertain about nerve damage to his spine from the same kicks, and his primary doctor had advised her that, despite the liver and kidney damage, it was best to keep him sedated while he healed. He would be in so much pain when he woke--and it was when, not if, she assured herself--that they were trying to spare him that.

And she just had to hope that they knew what they were doing. She’d been educating herself on what all of the various indicators meant... and the answers weren’t good.

He’d lost so much blood--twice what his actual body would normally hold--that he’d be vulnerable to infection while his immune system built back up his antibodies, a thought that terrified her when she’d learned that knife wounds to the intestines were highly likely to become infected.

His ‘intact’ leg was broken in two places and they had needed to use metal pins to put the bones back together, and the skinheads had nearly torn his arm from the socket when they’d been holding him for their knife-carrying friend. Those would take months to heal, and would require physical therapy.

They were cautiously optimistic that he wouldn’t need a kidney transplant and that the injured organ would heal... but the catheter tube that came out from under the sheet was filled with red, a sight that made her heart jump and her throat swell shut with fear every time she saw it.

Her phone rang, and her heart sank when she saw the number.

Taking a deep breath, she answered it. “Yes?”

“Hello, Mrs. Haddock. This is Alvin, with the insurance company? We spoke yesterday about your husband’s treatment.”

“I remember. What about it?”

“Your case is currently under review, but I’m afraid to inform you that due to the circumstances of your husband’s emergency, we are denying your application for the changed plan to apply to his current treatment, as it counts as a preexisting condition.” He didn’t sound afraid. He sounded as if he was enjoying what he was saying.

Her heart sank. They couldn’t afford his treatment without that change to the insurance plan. The deductible was just too much, and Hiccup’s leg was only covered due to his work.

“Please, please, please, reconsider--” she started to say, only for him to cut her off. “Ma’am, you’ll have to apply for an exemption and a review of your case. Good day.”

He hung up.

Astrid looked around the room, at the multiple complicated, expensive machines keeping Hiccup alive...

And hunched her legs up into her chest and cried. And then had to run for the wastebasket again, as the granola bar and orange that Snotlout had gotten her to eat suddenly turned sour in her stomach.

“Hey, listen, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Ruffnut murmured, taking a glance back at the boys, who were talking in hushed whispers among themselves. Astrid’s eyes were closed, her face was flushed, and she was letting out labored breaths.

“It’s not okay.” Astrid bit her lip. “No one is sure if he’s gonna wake up or not. And even if he does, he’ll be in so much pain, so much-”

Ruff wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulders. “He’s going to live. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Of course it does, but Ruff, how, in what universe, are we going to be able to pay for all of this?” Astrid put a hand over her mouth and released a sob.

Ruffnut and her brother had been about to board a flight when they were given the news. Fishlegs had texted them both multiple times, and, when they were about halfway there, added that Astrid was pregnant. Tuff had broken a lot of speed limits, and no one stopped him, especially not Ruff. That had been a few days ago.

Now, she held up her crying friend, hugging her and rubbing her back. “Listen, we’re all going to help you. We’re your backbone, Astrid, we have been since high school.” Astrid didn’t appear to hear her. Instead, she gasped, “Something’s wrong.”

“Astrid? Astrid!? What is it!?”

Astrid didn’t answer; her face was contorting with pain; she gave a heaving gasp and grasped her stomach like she was having period cramps dialed up to maximum and the knob broken off. Her legs buckled and, most terrifyingly of all, a cry of sobbing pain pain escaped her.

Ruffnut swore as Astrid swayed and started to topple, her eyes rolling back into her head before they closed completely.

“Help!” Ruffnut called as Astrid passed out into her arms.

Snotlout swore and hit the button to call the nursing station, moving so fast and fluidly that Ruffnut would later realize that he’d been waiting to hit the alarm for hours. Tuffnut helped her lower Astrid to the floor, both of them grunting with the effort as the other woman tried to unconsciously curl into a ball. Fishlegs grabbed a pillow and stuck it under her head, and a moment later, the door swung open to reveal the duty nurse.

“What happened?”

Fishlegs said something technical that Ruffnut didn’t understand--it sounded like Sin-cop?--and then Ruffnut noticed that Astrid’s jeans were damp with blood.

She shrieked and tried to tell the nurse, but couldn’t get the words out, instead just pointing frantically.

The nurse understood, though; within a minute, there was a gurney coming in through the door and Astrid was loaded onto it by a pair of orderlies, who rushed her out of the door. The nurse wasn’t looking too hopeful, though.

Ruffnut left with them, trying to understand, while Snotlout and Fishlegs stayed behind.

But part of her understood what had happened all too well, and she was in denial.

An hour later, Astrid’s gynecologist confirmed it, although he used kind, technical terms, like “spontaneous miscarriage”...

Astrid had lost the baby.

Ruffnut didn’t cry often. But tears sprung to her eyes at this news. Hiccup probably hadn’t even heard enough to know Astrid was pregnant, and now he would have to get the news of the baby and the miscarriage all at once.

Ruff sat down, buried her face in her hands, and wondered why it had all gone so wrong so quickly for the Haddock family.

Tuffnut stood by, feeling useless, as Stoick hugged his sobbing daughter-in-law, heedless of the hospital gown she was wearing, crying that she was going to lose him and had already lost the baby. The big man had flown in a few hours ago, and was throwing his weight around. He’d arranged to get both Hiccup and Astrid into a private room, and his lawyer, Gobber, was making sure that the skinheads wouldn’t get off with a slap on the wrist. Gobber had left a little while ago, an ugly and oddly satisfied chuckle in his voice as he’d considered a way to make those three bastards’ lives hell.

Tuffnut wished him the best of luck. Apparently, due to some stupid law on the books around here, it was possible that they might even manage to get the three of them charged with murdering Astrid’s baby.

Meanwhile, Stoick was assuring Astrid that he’d cover the costs. Hiccup wouldn’t like that--he made a big deal about not needing his dad for anything--but, as far as Tuffnut was concerned, Hiccup had given up his right to protest over how they paid for his hospital bills when he’d wasted over ten minutes of time when he could have called the ambulance to make a dramatic romantic call instead, between the time he’d talked to her and the time she’d found where he was and sent the ambulance.

As it was, thank god that he had installed that tracking software on his and Astrid’s phones after they both kept forgetting and misplacing them. Otherwise, the ambulance would never have found him in time.

He shivered at the thought.

Ruffnut came in, carrying the duffel filled with Astrid’s clothes that she’d gotten from their house. Thankfully, they hadn’t gotten robbed when Astrid had left in a hurry, but Stormfly had gotten out again, and Fishlegs and Snotlout had spent an hour using the tracking collar to retrieve the cat from the neighborhood’s park two days ago. Toothless, at least, had stayed.

Tuff cocked his head. There was something... off about the sound that the machine was making. How long it had been going on, he didn’t know; the nurse had last checked maybe fifteen minutes earlier. He listened carefully. It was very subtle, but he was sure that it was there.

He was about to get to his feet and call attention to it when Hiccup stirred.

He was alive.

That was surprising for some reason, but he couldn’t remember why...

Blinking, he moaned, and a hospital room swam into blurry view.

His dad was looking down at him with concern.

He moaned. “What happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” his dad asked him.

Hiccup tried to shake his head to clear it, and an alarm went off, making him blink. Bit by bit, his body was reporting in, and the news was pain. Lots of it, in many different flavors. Itchy-burning feeling from his back, a dull ache by his groin, a sharp stabbing pain by his leg, a pulling-tight sensation by his gut, a hot-burning feeling from his shoulder, a cramping sense of hollowness from his stomach...

He wanted to go back to sleep, but he didn’t see Astrid around...

Astrid.

Right.

“I was talkin’ with Ast... but I don’t remember ‘bout what...” he slurred.

There was a rustling of fabric nearby, and a flurry of voices that sounded like Ruffnut and his wife...

Wait, wasn’t Ruffnut heading off somewhere? For a something...? What was she doing here?

They were talking hurriedly, and he strained and managed to turn his head in that direction.

There was one of those privacy curtains there, with a blushing Fishlegs standing in front of it.

Huh?

Stoick leaned in. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Yeah... I went for a walk to try out the new prosthetic...”

He squinted, trying to catch sight of Astrid. A moment later, the curtain pulled aside and Astrid stepped forward.

Hiccup drank in the sight of her. She was wearing a light blouse, which was half-tucked into her third favorite pair of jeans, like she had dressed in a hurry...

And looked like she had barely slept in days.

“Ast...?”

She fell forward and hugged him, kissing him in a flurry all over, gasping out ‘Oh god,’ and ‘thank you’ over and over.

Despite the pain, he awkwardly hugged her with the arm that hurt less, and a vague memory bubbled up. “You said that you had a surprise for... me...?”

He caught but didn’t understand the significant looks being shared all around him, and then Astrid seemed to decide something and said, “It’s nothing important.” She poked him in the nose a little bit hard. “And that’s for doing something stupid like calling me and pretending that everything was alright instead of calling an ambulance!”

Hiccup made a brief sound of pain, even as he knew what was coming next.

She kissed him solidly on the lips, and then broke apart. “And that’s... for everything else.”

“I’m sorry...” he said, remembering that moment of decision.

“I know,” she said, and then looked up. “Snotlout, could you get him something to eat if the nurse says that it’s okay?”

Hiccup’s stomach rumbled. “God, I could eat a horse.”

“Given that you haven’t eaten anything in almost a week, yeah,” Astrid said wryly.

He got a good look at her eyes; she’d clearly been crying.

“How bad was it...?” he asked weakly.

She hesitated, and said, “Really bad. Don’t you ever do that to me again, Hiccup Haddock!”

“Promise. I won’t.”

“Good. Rest. We’ll get you out of here as soon as we can.”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

Epilogue: Sixteen months later

Looking at Astrid curiously, her daughter wrapped her hand around the offered finger.

Astrid closed her eyes for a second, and then held her daughter tighter, kissing the top of her head.

They were in the hospital again. She hated the place--she wanted out, but unfortunately, they’d be there for a few more days for her to recover. Astrid wanted to scream at the nurses that she’d recover much faster at home, at least mentally. But she kept her mouth shut, just relieved that her baby girl had been born, healthy and in great condition.

Astrid looked at her husband, who was watching them, with a kind of quiet admiration in his eyes. He didn’t look relaxed, per se, but he wasn’t tense either. He too, must have just been relieved.

She had never told him about the first pregnancy.

She had pleaded for anyone who knew not to tell him. There was no point, no point at all in telling him something so painful, and then waiting for the inevitable self-blame. Hiccup was horribly noble, and she just wasn’t ready to talk about her unborn child as though it was anyone’s fault. It was a child, a baby, and it had passed away before knowing life.

So Astrid pretended like the baby had never existed. She pretended like one of the happiest moments in her life, when she had seen the positive results on the pregnancy test, had never happened. And she pretended like all the pain she had been in when she lost the baby was just something out of a story. Hiccup was left in the dark, and she preferred to keep it that way.

Her baby, her pain, her secret.

Hiccup looked at his wife and daughter as the newborn got her second-ever meal and smiled. The scars from his assault still twinged occasionally, and he got reminded of ‘the time you were a stupid selfish romantic idiot’ on a regular basis from everybody. He’d never live it down, but that was okay. He, at least, was going to live.

Unlike their first child, who everybody pretended never existed around him, and he pretended that he didn’t know, as if he had never found out from the court documents. He’d caused Astrid enough pain; he wasn’t going to force her to relive those horrible moments. It was the least he could do, after how he had pretended that all was well when it had begun.

So Astrid acted as though it never happened, and he acted as though he knew nothing of it.

It was their little game. A game of pretend.

#httyd #modern au #hiccstrid #hiccup #astrid #snotlout #fishlegs #ruffnut #tuffnut #collab #athingofvikings #valkyrie stories

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acegreymanx · 7 years ago

Text

The Edge of the Circle (9)

read it on: FF / AO3

The only time you need a miracle is when nothing else can save you.

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Pairing: General, LadyNoir Genre: general, mystery, supernatural Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir face an unknown enemy. As heartache and danger close in, they will discover the true meaning of the Miraculous.

"Are you sick?" he blurted.

Ladybug’s face scrunched and she frowned up at him. Chat crouched in front of her, extending a hand towards her but not quite daring to touch. She stared at it dubiously - and a bit groggily - as the little shivers danced down her frame.

"Please," he said, flexing the fingers of the hand he extended.

With a soft huff that was enough like her usual self to calm some of his worry, she placed her wrist in his hand.

She definitely had a fever. Not even the insulating nature of their suits could hide the heat coming off her skin, or the tremors she was obviously trying to minimise. He ran his claws gently over her forearm to her elbow before bringing them back to clasp her hand.

"What are you doing out?" he asked, dismayed.

"How did you know?" she groused instead.

Chat didn't think she'd be interested in hearing about his recent bumbling attempt at socialising. "Lucky guess. I think there must be something going around."

Her tremors grew worse as she gave up trying to suppress them and he swallowed down the worry before it overcame him again. There were no Alyas or Ninos here to fix things this time. Well, technically Alya was in the room below, but he didn't think she'd appreciate him barging into her room at 1 a.m as Chat and demanding she heal Ladybug.

Then he rethought that and realised that actually she might like it, but that didn't make it any more of an option.

No, he had to do something and Chat—admittedly still less than knowledgeable about illness, but remembering how cold Marinette had felt and how much she'd appreciated his scarf—reluctantly left Ladybug to go and fetch the cosiest thing he could scrounge.

With autumn well and truly underway and winter already impatiently creeping up undercover of night, there unfortunately wasn't any laundry conveniently out on the lines to select from. But in a stroke of luck, someone had left some fuzzy throws on their balcony chairs. Chat swiped them with nary a second thought, hurrying back to the pointed rooftop.

"Here." He laid the first one down on the cold tiles, almost shooing her towards it when she eyed it from her huddled limbs.

"Did you just steal a blanket?" she questioned, but nevertheless shuffled over to sit on the fluffy fabric.

"We're just borrowing it." He draped the second one over her, so that she was effectively swaddled from the cold on all sides.

Not really knowing what else to do, he moved to sit opposite, sliding his back down a metal pipe. Or a chimney. Maybe it was an air duct?

What were these things seemingly on every roof? You'd think I'd know by know.

Ladybug clutched at the excess of blankets around her. Truthfully, Chat wasn't even sure if they would help: through the winters and summers they'd worn their suits, Chat had never actually felt hot or cold. He'd always assumed that the magic extended to protecting the wearer from the elements. Maybe that was the problem here. Maybe because the heat was coming from within, the suit wasn't able to adjust in the same way.

He was broken out of his musing when he realised he was being watched, glancing up to find Ladybug's blue eyes gazing at him from over the top of the blanket. He froze under the weight of her stare, then started when she wordlessly lifted one corner out wide, silently inviting him to join her.

Chat held his breath. Their partnership had grown a lot from the days of awkwardly dancing around each other. They had grown. Even so, there were still times like this where she surprised him. Chat could confidently say they were friends but there remained some boundaries she was very careful with. Outside of battle, physical closeness was one. It was always special when she broke the professional mask to remind him in her own way that they weren't just partners. And though she usually did so with a long-suffering expression, he cherished it each and every time.

Ladybug shook the corner impatiently at his hesitation and Chat scrambled across before she could retract it. He settled next to her, leaving a couple of centimetres between them, and mimicked her posture, wrapping his arms around his legs. He imagined how comical they must look, with the blanket stretched between them, swamping her shaking shoulders yet barely covering his knees. Their height was one of the other things that had grown. Or rather, his had. Disarmingly, Ladybug had remained more or less the same.

She shifted a bit until her chin poked up from beneath the cover. Her forehead crinkled. "Chat, are you wearing cologne?"

Oh no.

He'd completely forgotten. It had been for his own benefit, to cover the lingering scent of the Seine still caught in his hair, but he had doused himself in some sort of concoction that morning. And for nothing, in the end. He could still catch sour whiffs of river algae despite the perfume and the fact that he had scrubbed his scalp at least ten times the night of the swim.

"Well, the last time we met you did mention odours," he told her.

"It was you and your 'enhanced senses' that brought up the topic," she reminded him. Her eyelids were half-closed before she lifted them suddenly. "Wait, do I still smell?"

He made a show of sniffing at the top of her head. "Yes, terrible."

"Oh." She seemed shocked. The illness was definitely affecting more than her temperature. Normally, she would've been naturally distrustful of his solemn tone.

His grin gave him away before she caught on. "I lied, you smell fine. I think your kwami isn't as lazy about preventing 'harmless side-effects'."

She hummed disapprovingly. "And I believe you also made a threat about nursing me."

He nodded. "I did."

He'd never thought the teasing promise would actually come true. He eyed her carefully, noting her glassy gaze and the clammy sheen over her skin and remembered the last time he'd seen something similar. She frowned under his examination.

"Tell me if you need to throw up," he said.

Her frown turned to bemusement. "What will you do?"

"I'll catch it." He cupped his hands in a bowl in front of her.

His chest swooped in delight at her small, breathy laugh. Or maybe it was more of a snort. He didn't really care.

"Gross," she said in an attempt at reproach. "And really not all that helpful. Aren't you going to try and send me home?"

"I know you well enough by now to know that it won't work." His lips quirked. "You're one of the most stubborn people I've ever met, and trust me when I say I know some very stubborn people."

Like my father. Or Alya, he thought, ruefully remembering the reason they were both there. Edmond Proulx's victorious smirk danced across his memory.

"I saw the program," he told her.

She slowly lifted her head. "And?"

"I was surprised. I thought I was the only Cat in Paris until they managed to go and dig up that sourpuss."

She gave a familiar sigh and leant back against the roof. "This is serious, Chat. How many people feel the same as him?"

"It can't be that many. I've never heard of the organisation before at all. "

She made a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan as she raised one hand to her flushed cheek. The ball of worry Chat was suppressing twisted sickly in his stomach. She shouldn't have to deal with this. Not right now.

"Don't worry," he added. "We've had critics before. They always come around. Why would this be any different?"

"Because he was right. Where are we going, Chat? What are we doing? I've been wondering that myself." She grimaced. "I shouldn't be surprised that someone else had the same questions."

"Ladybug?"

"What have we learned about Papillon in all this time? We don't know who he is, or where his base is, or even what he wants the miraculous for." She was breathing shallowly, her eyes bright and unfocused. "We don't know where akuma come from. We can't predict them. We can't prevent them. We can't get any clues from the victims because they forget everything."

She finished on a deep breath. "He was right. We're not getting anywhere."

"No, he wasn't." Chat couldn't say he was shocked. He'd known long ago that she was the more pessimistic of the two of them, but hearing these thoughts from her ached. They had done so much for their city. They sacrificed so much of their lives. How could she doubt them like this?

"He wasn't right," Chat told her again. "We're helping people. You're sick and giving up your time to protect a stranger—"

"Chat, don't." For some reason, this line of thought seemed to make her more upset.

He tried a different tactic. "We're not soldiers, my Lady. We're not workers. We're not here to save the world. All we need to do is keep the citizens of Paris safe. That's what we've done."

Her lips pursed. He thought she might keep pushing, but then her posture sagged and she sank back into the blanket with a shiver. He hadn't seen her this uncertain since the first time that Papillon had challenged them in front of the Tower.

"It feels so meaningless sometimes. What's the point of these powers if we can't change anything? It's like we're caught in a loop. Don't you… Don't you ever get tired of it?"

He had goosebumps.

"No," he whispered.

The air felt crisp enough to break, the night colourless and dull except for the faint glow of the Tower in the middle distance. He was silent as her gaze roved out over the sleeping city.

"Something needs to change, Chat. We can't do this forever. I… I have dreams I want to reach. I had a plan, before all this started." Her eyes were like ice, piercing the warm protection of his suit. "Isn't there something else you want to be?"

His immediate response caught in his throat. Feelings he'd gotten better at controlling were pushed back down into their neat pen. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

But he still felt it.

I don't care what I am as long as I'm with you.

continue reading on: FF / AO3

start from Chapter 1: FF / AO3

#ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #Edge of the Circle #ladybug and chat noir #LadyNoir #my fanfic #fanfiction

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ladyofstardust · 7 years ago

Text

Meanwhile in Prague

Word Count: 6k

Rating: T

Summary: In which they go to Prague to vomit, eat, and make-out. In that order. Sarah is still trying to pretend this is Not A Date and Jareth is mostly trying to touch her butt. Nobody does a very good job.

Notes: Apartment-verse fic. Directly follows the Tinder Incident. Before Goblins Roasting.

Sarah paced back and forth in front of the mirror in her kitchen. It was five minutes to seven and she was trying very, very hard not to think about what was about to occur and instead on picking the lint off of her favourite dress.

She’d changed four times. Four times and there definitely wasn’t time to change again. At that point she risked him walking in on her naked. Which he’d like just about as much as she wouldn’t.

She thought about what led to this. Kissing him under the the dim flickering lights of her kitchen. The tv playing 80s sitcom reruns in the background. How she was wearing sweatpants and her old college hoodie. How he’d raked his hand through her gross knotted hair. How his hand ran underneath the sweater and up her cool back. He’d felt like fire. He’d felt like jumping into a cool lake. Or the way you feel right before you hit ‘send’ on an important email. Exhilarating and scary all at the same time. Where you let out a breath only to be punched in the gut.

But then she thought about real stuff. About things other than that split second. About going to the movies with her friends, or walking into a library, or seeing a broadway show downtown. Then about her career, her apartment, her family and friends, her retirement fund (pitiful as it was), her doctors appointments and dentists. The restaurants she loved eating at, and the places she dreamed of visiting.

Fire might keep her warm at night, but it still burned up anything in its wake.

If Sarah was being honest with herself, and like, at this point she figured might as well. She’d dreamed about kissing him from the first. She’d dreamed about a hell of a lot more than kissing him and frankly, if she thought she thought she could have that without consequences, she would’ve long ago made those dreams a reality. Leaving aside everything else, Jareth was just stupid hot. Like walk into walls, drop whatever was in your hands, make yourself forget about your life to kiss them hot. But it wasn’t like this was news to her. Yeah he was hot, but he also drove her nuts.

Even if she didn’t care about the whole, ‘give up your whole life just to see if this is maybe viable’ thing, which she did, Jareth was also the fucking worst. He allowed the goblins to treat her home as an extension of their kingdom, he stole her brother and tried to throw her in a feces filled swamp, he used her feelings toward him as a weapon to trap her in that ballroom, he stole her makeup and leftovers, he left glitter goddamn everywhere, and he hated dogs. Who even hates dogs?

So in what messed up world would she ever want to date him?!

Which is why she changed her outfits four times, and was counting down the seconds until he took her to do just that.

She watched her phone’s clock go over to 7pm and heard the familiar chime of the bell over the mirror.

“Goblin King,” she turned to greet him. “Were you just waiting by the mirror to step through at the precise moment it clicked over to 7? How very Cinderella of you.”

“Is this typically how one greets one’s date in the human world?” he frowned. “I thought you were supposed to be ‘showing me the ropes’ as it were.”

Sarah raised her eyebrows both out of surprise that he was actually planning on holding her to that farce, and his altered appearance. He’d slicked back his hair and tamed it into a ponytail of sorts. He was still wearing his leather jacket, but his shirt was plain in nature and was buttoned fully. He’d also changed into a pair of plain black pants, although he wore the same boots she often saw on him. The change of his eyes was the most striking. Jareth had done something to them. Blunted their effect somehow and instead of a mismatched set, two ice blue eyes stared back at her. Sarah realized that with those subtle differences, he easily passed for human. He reminded her a bit of David Bowie with his androgynous features, though Bowie never rocked the ponytail.

“Fair enough,” she said holding up her hands in a truce. “You look, weirdly nice Jareth.”

He smiled. “You should expect nothing less from me. But I must say, you quite took my breath away as I watched you pacing just now. I’ve lived a long time Sarah, but seeing you tonight has already been a memory I will cherish.”

“Goddammit,” she hissed, giving him a playful whack on his shoulder. “You can’t admit to spying and then drop that Jane Austen shit on me. Don’t make me drape a sheet over the mirror. But thank you, that’s nice, I’m still mad, but that’s also still nice.”

“Apologies,” he said taking her hand in his. She made note that he was still wearing his gloves, apparently that had not been part of his humanization. “I shall endeavour to stare at you less, but you do make it difficult precious.”

He laid a delicate kiss on the top of her hand and raised a brow expecting her to challenge him.

“Okay first rule of dating human girls,” she said withdrawing her hand. “I’m used to you and the way you like to talk. Other humans won’t be. You’re gonna come off as a creep if you use language like ‘I shall endeavour’.”

“So you wish for me to speak as you do? With your imprecise phrases and doublespeak?”

“No I think we can write off you using modern slang entirely,” she said, trying to picture him telling some poor girl that his castle was lit or something. “But let’s shoot for curmudgeonly old person rather than CS Lewis character. Actually that brings me to rule two, absolutely no talk of magic, goblins, goblin adjacent stuff, and most importantly, me.”

“I cannot believe you’d think I’d tell any old human girl the secrets of my kingdom,” Jareth sniped, insulted. “You can insult my person as much as you please, but I’d ask you keep your opinions on my rulership to yourself. If you are neither a citizen of the Goblin Kingdom, nor my wife, then you have no power over my rule.”

“Okay,” she said evenly, pleasantly surprised. She rarely heard him talk about his kingdom like that. She knew he didn’t tell people about goblins or magic, but she thought that sometimes he would let his little games of misdirection and teasing go a bit too far. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“Of course if you were my wife, you’d be in charge of deciding these things with me,” he grinned at her.

“I’ll add it to the pro column,” she grumbled.

“Oh I have a pro column!” he exclaimed, delighted. “Well I’m just dying to hear more about all my great attributes over dinner, but I think it best we head off lest we miss our reservation.”

“Yeah considering we’ve already had to apologize to each other and we haven’t left my kitchen, this is starting out like most of my dates already. You said you wanted to pick the place so where are we going? Do I need my car keys or can we walk?”

“I was thinking somewhere a little further afield,” he said, extending his hand towards her again. “Are you willing to let me take us there?”

Sarah hesitated a moment, debating, before sighing and placing her hand in his.

“Let’s roll magic man,” she said. “Before I change my mind.”

“Best to close your eyes Sarah,” he warned, pulling her in tightly so there was no space between them. “It is unpleasant if you are unused to the sensation.”

Sarah closed her eyes and felt the floor drop out from under her. She dug her nails into Jareth’s wrist in an attempt not to panic, and he squeezed her hand right back as if to reassure her he wasn’t going to let go. She didn’t dare open her eyes until she heard his voice in her ear.

“Welcome Sarah, to the great city of Prague.”

“PRAGUE?!” she exclaimed, that had snapped her right out of it.

Well, for about the half second she had to register where she was before she promptly vomited all over the alleyway he’d landed them in. Jareth, to his credit, seemed to take it in stride and simply grabbed her hair to keep her from being sick all over it.

“Great,” she said wiping her mouth. “Usually I like to save the vomiting until later in the date.”

“No time like the present,” he said brightly handing her a handkerchief from his pocket. “I did warn you, the trip can be unpleasant.”

“Understatement of the year. Does everyone puke?” she asked, gratefully taking the cloth from his hands.

“I don’t make it a habit bringing humans along,” he said with a shrug. “It mostly only seems to occur when I move from place to place in your world. It actively works against my magic instead of helping it the way the Underground does. If it makes you feel better, it is deeply unpleasant for me to travel significant distances in cars or most of your trains.”

“That does make me feel a bit better yeah,” she said, smoothing out her dress. She’d missed her shoes at least. “But I’m good now.”

“Still feel up to eating?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“Yeah since you brought me halfway across the world and all, the food better be amazing,” she said linking her arm through his.

“I’ve been coming here for over a hundred years, a relatively new place by my standards,” he said absently. Sarah struggled to think of a place she’d been going to for ten years let alone a hundred.

“You’re a creature of habit,” she pointed out. “You like what you like and then kind of just keep doing that.”

“How true,” he conceded. “For instance I like you.”

“Nope,” Sarah replied, shaking her head. “This date is not a real date. It’s a practice date so you can date other people and stop liking me.”

“Well how am I doing so far?” he asked.

“You lost points when you admitted to watching me standing in front of the mirror, but gained them all back for how nice you were about me getting the pukes in front of you. But I don’t think I need to tell you most women won’t have to deal with teleportation sickness.”

“There,” he said pointing to a little arched doorway. From the outside it didn’t look terribly impressive. An old fresco was painted on top of the doorway, which had writing Sarah couldn’t read.

Jareth held open the wooden door for Sarah to step through. As soon as she entered the restaurant she realized that she was dead wrong about this place. Beautiful elaborate paintings decorated the arched ceilings. Gold chandeliers lit the room, which complemented the candelabras on the individual tables. A luxe red carpet lined the room which looked only large enough to seat about thirty or forty people.

“Jareth,” she hissed into his ear, anxiously smoothing down her suddenly very plain feeling jersey dress. “I’m massively underdressed. Also I cannot afford anything on this menu. I live in a city with hundreds of great restaurants - we couldn’t have just gone there instead?”

“This place is called U Malířů1543. It is named such because that is the year it was established. Excellent year by the way, some of the best wine. You said I could choose the place, and this is one of my favourite Aboveground establishments. If I thought there was any chance I could have taken you to one of the hundreds of fine establishments Underground that I love without you throwing a fit and spouting off about kidnapping and faerie food again, I would have.”

“That picnic was a terrible half-assed idea and you know it,” she interrupted. The time he’d tried to surprise her with a “friendly platonic picnic” she was sure seemed like a great idea in his head. Except he’d forgotten to ask her if she wanted to come and instead just ambushed her one time when she was trying to visit with her friends. Locking her closest friends in oubliettes while he dropped grapes into her mouth like some sort of demented fairytale was not on.

“My point is,” he said gruffly, ignoring her. “I wanted to show you a bit of my world. Or perhaps more accurately, the parts of your world that I enjoy that have nothing to do with you. You’re not underdressed, you look perfect as we have already discussed, and as this date was my idea, I will be picking up the cheque Sarah. Before you interrupt to argue with me about owing debts to faerie, consider the fact that you’re helping me learn how to interact with humans and write it off as a fair trade. Now are there any more objections or can we take our seats? We’re already late for our reservations.”

“I have a feeling reservations is going to be the theme of the night,” she muttered, smoothing down her dress. Maybe if she hadn’t spent so long trying to decide what to wear she’d have had time to iron it. Sarah eyed the lady at a nearby table. Her diamond bracelet clinked against her plate every time she reached for her wine glass. Sarah looked down at the hair tie on her wrist and the cheap charm bracelet her mom had got her a number of christmases ago. She had no business being in a place this fancy and everyone here knew it. They were probably already discussing who that dishevelled, puke-smelling girl that just walked in was.

Jareth stepped forward to speak to the maitre d. He spoke quickly in a language Sarah guessed must have been Czech. Her hands tightened into fists as he led them to their seats. She felt Jareth’s hand over hers and he patted her fist kindly.

“Why are you so concerned about these other people who you will likely never see again after this night,” he whispered into her ear.

“I don’t like people thinking I’m weird,” she replied quietly. “It reminds me of being a kid and feeling powerless when people would make fun of me for, well, being weird.”

Sarah sat down and smiled at the maitre d as he pulled out her chair. If she couldn’t be the best dressed she could at least be the most polite.

“How do I say thank you?” she asked Jareth quickly.

“ Děkuji,” he replied nodding at the maitre d and taking his seat. “Do you mind if I order for you? The menu is also in Czech.”

“Yeah it’s fine, just no white wines and no fish,” she said gratefully taking another look around the dining room.

It really was a beautiful place. Looking at Jareth she realized she was wrong, that she wasn’t the worst dressed here. Jareth was dressed much the same as she was and he obviously didn’t care.

“You dressed to match me didn’t you,” she said, realizing. “You knew how fancy this place was so you watched to see what I would be wearing before choosing an outfit yourself. You didn’t want me to be self-conscious.”

“Yes,” he replied, eyes shooting to hers as he peered over the menu.

“So then why didn’t you just tell me we were going somewhere fancy so I would have worn something nice?” she asked, confused.

“I...didn’t think you’d come,” he replied, equally confused.

“Okay,” she said putting her head in her hands. “I would have probably asked if you were planning on covering the bill and maybe the name of the restaurant yeah, but I still would have come Jareth.”

“I will know for next time then,” he replied smoothly.

“I kinda just want to point out something though,” she said, deliberately stepping over the next time comment. “I think you spend a lot of time feeling like I should loosen up and go with your plans more. Then you say something like how you didn’t think I’d come if you told me to wear something nice. That’s totally different and it kind of upsets me that you don’t get that. I’m not some fun hating monster Jareth. I mean for goodness sakes, I let goblins have free reign of my apartment and I go along with your plans more often than not. But you can’t paint me enforcing what little boundaries I have left as me being rigid. It’s not fair and yes! Before you say anything, I know that life’s not fair thanks. But if you want to date me, or any other human girl, you have to respect our boundaries.”

“So what is the difference between this and say, the picnic,” he said carefully, taking a slow sip of his far too expensive wine.

“Well for starters,” she said, gratefully taking a gulp of the same wine which tasted like every other red wine that didn’t cost an arm and a leg, “that time you didn’t ask. You gotta ask. Like that is level one humaning stuff right there. Most girls don’t mind a bit of a surprise every now and then. I like surprises! This is kind of a fun surprise, I’ve never been to Prague. This is cool. This would have been ten times as cool if you’d told me this is what we’re doing beforehand because I could enjoy it, dress appropriately, and mentally prepare myself to be teleported halfway across the world.”

“Okay,” he said seriously. “Let us do something called compromising. I promise not to take you anywhere without your permission, if you agree to tell me your reservations instead of simply dismissing me. Allow me the chance to convince you,”

“I’ll agree to that,” she said with a sigh. “Though that’s mostly because I know you at this point and I trust you not to do anything shady or convince me of anything that is going to hurt me later. But I feel it’s important you understand that no is an okay answer sometimes. I’m not rejecting you, well, I’m not always rejecting you, sometimes I just don’t want to and that has to be fine. Maybe I just don’t feel like doing something insane and wacky, maybe I just want to hang out on my couch and read a book.”

“Is this how all humans treat their friends?” he asked with interest. “That doesn’t sound like a great deal of fun.”

“Yeah mostly,” she said rolling her eyes. “Fun is when everyone is having a good time. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have fun at one of Toby’s soccer games or hanging out at Six Flags. So I don’t “surprise” you by taking you there assuming that you’ll have a good time because I am. You get what I’m saying?”

“I suppose so,” he said crisply. “But what are six flags?”

“An amusement park,” she said with a smile. “Do you wanna go? I could be wrong about this, you don’t seem personally concerned with things like gravity so maybe you’d have a blast.”

“Is that one of those places where everyone gets in the little metal box, allows the teenager standing at the controls to fling them about a bit, then they all get out and talk about what fun that was?”

“The very same,” she said brightly. “Still wanna go?”

“No,” he frowned. “I’m fairly certain some of the lower kingdoms still use that as a method of torture.”

“Exactly. Different definitions of fun,” she smiled, she was cheered up greatly feeling like she’d finally managed to get through to him. “Though while we’re on the subject of dress,” she said gesturing towards his hands. “I’ve always wanted to know something. What’s the deal with the gloves.”

“The gloves?” he said, turning over his hands to examine them, as if he was surprised to find them covered.

“Yeah, you wear them all the time. Any reason? If you touch me will I turn to gold? Are you secretly Midas?” she asked with a grin.

“No,” he said with a shrug. “I suppose I hadn’t really thought about how you would perceive it. Where I’m from, showing one’s hands is an especially...intimate gesture. Unsuitable for polite company and generally reserved for family and close lovers.”

“Oh really?” she asked, intrigued. “I never thought about it like that. Why is it so intimate?”

“Our hands are the conduits for our power,” he replied simply. “We move and manipulate spells with them.”

“That makes sense,” she said nodding. “Do you guys feel the same way about breasts as the rest of North America?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “The women typically cover themselves but mostly to wear the more elaborate garments most of the high court is so fond of. The peasant women cover them to keep warm in the winter months, but in the summer it’s common to see them walking around mostly nude. We’re not very prudish about these sorts of things.”

“No, I never got that impression from you,” she said with a raised brow. “So the glove thing is a bit of a surprise.”

“I suppose we all have our traditions,” he said with a smirk. “Now what other human things should I be aware of before throwing myself into the dating world of humans.”

“Well for starters, it’s good to ask people questions about themselves. Then listen to what they are saying and ask questions about their answers. It’s not a quiz though so don’t take notes or rapid fire random crap like what their favourite ice cream is. Just have a conversation. Kinda like we’re doing now.”

“Yes I should think I have a handle on that,” he said rolling his eyes. “But why did you request I not speak of you to these women? Shouldn’t one tell their date about their friends?”

“Yes…” she said carefully, she’d really hoped to avoid this, but knew it had to come up at some point. “But I don’t think you should mention me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not sure you can talk about me in a way that doesn’t immediately tell any date that you’re interested in dating me instead of them,” she answered quickly, just wanting to move past it without much discussion on the subject.

Jareth looked as if he was thinking about this for a moment, considering a possible answer. Then he turned back to his meal as if she’d said nothing at all.

“Are you not going to argue with me?” she was genuinely confused by his reaction.

“No.” he said, taking another bite of his dinner.

“Because I’m right?”

“Yes.”

“Well...okay,” she said confused. He had agreed with her, so why was she so annoyed? In fact, he’d dropped the subject quickly which was the best scenario she could have hoped for.

They sat in silence for a moment as Sarah picked at her dinner. It was easily one of the best meals she’d ever eaten but she was having trouble enjoying it.

“Are you really going to go out with one of those girls from Tinder,” she finally blurted out.

“I don’t know,” he said putting down his utensils. “Do you still want me to?”

“I owe you an apology probably,” she said with another sigh. “I’ve been a shitty friend lately. Running away every time you come near and then shoving all those women in your face like they’re interchangeable. I’ve kind of been behaving like a child.”

“Kind of?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t push me Jareth,” she said shaking her head. “I panicked. When you kissed me it reminded me of the ballroom, you know, the elephant in the room we don’t talk about?”

“Yes,” he said avoiding her eyes.

“Yeah so it kinda brought me back to that moment. When all I wanted was to kiss you - which I think you knew at the time so let’s not pretend this is new information. The last time I wanted to kiss you it nearly cost me everything. You nearly cost me everything. I know we’re trying to move past that to be friends, but you kissing me is making that hard.”

He paused and looked at her consideringly. “Has it occurred to you that perhaps I want you to want to kiss me?”

“It’s occurred to me plenty yeah,” she sighed. “But I can’t want that.”

“Can’t?”

“Can’t,” she replied firmly. “The price is too high Jareth.”

“You don’t even know what the price is,” he challenged. “I’ve never asked anything of you.”

“But that’s the thing, you don’t have to ask. I know - I’m not stupid and I’m not some kid who’s just gonna throw my hands in the air and shout about true love being all that matters. For starters true love is bullshit, and for another I have things about my life that I really like that are just straight incompatible with - whatever the hell we’d be if we just started kissing a whole bunch, I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to want to kiss you.”

“I’m sorry for putting you in a position where you feel you can’t want to kiss me,” he replied. “But know that I hope you’ll change your mind.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for forcing your hand so that you felt the only way you could take me on this date was to trick me into it. I can see how we ended up here and this one is mostly on me. But somehow, someway, despite all my very best efforts, you’re my friend Jareth. I’d like to keep you as my friend but you need to cut this kissing shit out.”

“I would remind you who kissed who in the first place,” he said, taking another careful bite of the very expensive potatoes.

“Oh but you finished it Goblin King,” she replied evenly.

“I intend to yes,” he said with a smile that Sarah didn’t entirely trust.

The rest of the meal passed, to Sarah’s surprise, relatively pleasantly. Jareth told her about the last couple times he’d been in Prague and how the city had changed. Sarah enjoyed listening to him tell her about a world that she’d only known from her history books. It was a unique perspective, and one many would kill for. She enjoyed hearing him describe the concerts he’d been to and the different people he’d met. Most of their names he had forgotten, but she was surprised at the affection his voice held when he spoke of them.

Jareth had suggested they take a bit of a walk after dinner. Sarah thought this was a great idea as walking around Prague at night for an hour, and then getting to crawl into her own bed to sleep seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity. She hadn’t planned for the change in temperature though so Jareth lent her his jacket. Sarah gratefully accepted.

“I feel you should know something,” she told him as they walked along the cobblestone streets.

“Oh?” he said in surprise.

“Yep,” she nodded. “I drank all that fancy wine at dinner and those food portions were teeny tiny and you see I have no food from before in my stomach because of the puking and basically, hello I am tipsy.”

“Excellent,” he said wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Then this would be the perfect time to ask you all those soul searching questions.”

“Oh no,” she said laughing. “You’re not going to in vinos veritas me. No no. Not today buddy, not today.”

“Hmm,” he said considering their surroundings. “This does make the matter of getting you home more difficult though. I don’t want you losing that very fancy dinner all over your nice kitchen floor.”

“Yeah how’d you pay for that anyways?” she asked. “Pretty sure you’re not walking around with a Visa card in those tight pants of yours. I would know, because of how tight your pants are. Your pants are tight Jareth. Tight Pants McGee is what I should call you really.”

“Oh you are just delightful when inebriated aren’t you?” he said with a grin. “Tell me more about my tight pants and all the ways you’ve noticed how tight they are. Actually I’d prefer an alphabetical list of all the times you’ve checked out my ass in my pants.”

“Sure sure ass,” she said nodding. “Definitely just the ass. Anyways no thank you Mr. Tighty, as I just said, we’re not in vinos veritasing me. I’m a strong independent woman who can handle her shit and her wine.”

“I’d never dream of suggesting otherwise.”

“But like, just checking, we didn’t dine and dash that place did we? I don’t think they’re gonna track me down and find me or anything, but I’m not about tricking people that we paid when we didn’t. I know about faerie gold. I can’t really afford it, like at all, but if we need to I can go back and put it on my card.”

“No,” he said waving a hand. “That is a trick for lower faerie. I have some human investments that do quite well. Real estate mostly. It collects a nice paycheque that I use to fund myself and my kingdom’s activities here Aboveground.”

“You’re...a landlord.” she said with disbelief. The idea that Jareth could be anyone’s landlord was somehow baffling. Especially when she considered her own landlord, the overweight fifty something gentleman with a limited understanding of English but who really loved the local hockey team as everything he owned seemed to be plastered with its logo.

“I suppose I am,” he replied. “I don’t actually do anything to earn the money. I have human emissaries who handle that side of my business. Not uncommon for high faerie to have human businesses, and we learn a little about your economics and history during our schooling. I have a couple lawyers and whatnot and I believe an accountant. To be honest I can’t quite recall.”

“This is completely mind blowing,” she said. “You’re probably like crazy rich then. God, my mom would just freak out if she knew I turned you down.”

“Every time I hear about your mother the woman sounds more and more … complicated,” he finished diplomatically.

“Yeah sure,” she said with a snort. “Complicated. You can say shallow you know. It’s not like this is news to me. I worry a lot about ending up like that.”

“You do?” he asked with interest. “Why? You’re nothing like the woman.”

She stopped walking and stared at him. He took his arm from her shoulder and gave her a puzzling look. “What is it Sarah? Have I upset you?”

“No it’s not that,” she said, her head starting to clear up. “It’s just, you know you’re the first person to say that?”

“I am?” he asked, brow furrowing in confusion. “That cannot be true.”

“People are always going on and on about how much like her I am,” she said raking a hand through her hair. “I know I look like her. But my dad and Karen used to say during arguments how I was just like her. So stubborn and sharp tongued.”

Jareth took her by the wrist and gently guided her down a narrow alleyway. “You are stubborn and sharp tongued. But you’re not just like anyone. You’re not vain, shallow, or obsessed with your status in life. From what you’ve mentioned about your mother, I would guess you have very little in common.”

“I know,” she said squeezing his hand. “It’s just nice to hear someone else say it for once.”

“Are you still inebriated,” he asked her taking a quick look around.

“No, I’m pretty sober now. The walk helped a lot. Did you figure out an easier way for me to get home.”

“I did,” he replied. “Or at least, I should like to try something. As I said I don’t take humans alongside very often so I’m not sure if this will work, but I think it is our best shot. Though you may not like it.”

“It definitely can’t be any worse than the trip here,” she said with a laugh. “So just go ahead, I won’t bite.”

“Promise?” he asked with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Sarah didn’t have a chance to answer before he pulled her in. She wasn’t sure if the ground fell because he kissed her or if he kissed her to keep her from falling. He kissed her smoothly and easily, like it was something he did every morning before she left for work. He kissed her like it was summertime and they had the rest of the day to just lie in the grass kissing each other like that. He kissed her like he knew her and it made Sarah’s heart jump to think that maybe he did.

The last time he kissed her, she reasoned that she needed to kiss him back because she wasn’t going to let him ruin kissing for her without ruining it for him right back. This time she kissed him back because it kept her from thinking about them falling through the nothingness of space and time.

Or at least that’s what she’d say if anyone asked. It absolutely definitely wasn’t because he smelled good and kissed even better. Nope, that had less than zero to do with it.

She barely noticed they’d landed before he pulled back.

“There, I thought that might do it,” he said smugly.

“Well...you were right,” she said slightly out of breath. Her head was swimming but her dinner seemed content to stay where it was.

“I was?” he said with smug smile.

“Yep, I didn’t like that,” she said giving him a solid whack on the arm.

“Ow Sarah!” he whined. “It worked did it not?”

“That was absolutely the last kiss you’re ever getting so I hope you made it count because kissing is done now,” she said annoyed.

“Something tells me it won’t be,” he said with a smirk and pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “But I’d like to point out I did ask.”

“Bite me.”

“I intend to,” he said giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “But as you know all good dates end with a kiss and I think this was a very good date indeed.”

“I suppose,” she grumbled. A small part of her was quite pleased she’d had another excuse to kiss him. But like hell if she’d ever admit that out loud.

“Have a good rest of your evening Sarah,” he said stepping backwards through the mirror. “Until next time.”

“Ugh whatever,” she sighed waving him off. She waited until he was fully gone and then narrowed her eyes into the glass. “And if you’re still watching know that I can absolutely move this mirror into my landlord’s bathroom and I don’t think you’ll like the view from there half as much.”

Sarah thought she heard a laugh somewhere in the far distance and decided she was just going to have to take her chances. There was a reason the mirror lived in the kitchen and not her bedroom.

#SO I ACTUALLY WROTE THIS LIKE TWO MONTHS AGO #and just TOTALLY FORGOT to post it here?????#anyways Sarah is actually dressed perfectly appropriately and she's just got some old hangups #she's working on them #my ownsome #apartment-verse #fanfiction #labyrinth #labyrinth has ruined me

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deztinywarriors · 7 years ago

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ES Spectre 2.0 Chapter 12-3

#Playchoices #Endless Summer #ES #fanfic #adventure

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onespoongirl · 7 years ago

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Let Sleeping Wolves Lie | Chapter 4

Pairing: Stiles/oc/Lydia (polyamory)

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Read on ff.net or AO3

Summary: Beth has just moved across the Atlantic to be closer to her father, who lives in Beacon Hills, but she arrives just in time for a dead body in the woods and something monstrous prowling the school hallways. American teen sitcoms really didn't prepare her for this.

Word count: 6583

Chapter Index

Chapter 4: Strange Bethfellows

Waking up was nothing short of a harrowing experience. Looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling, Beth opened her mouth and let out a confused groan. It wasn't until she turned her head and saw the slumbering Lydia next to her that she recognised where she was.

There was a weird kind of silence over the house, a kind of quiet after the storm so to speak. The only sound was an occasional sigh from the sleeping Lydia.

Beth felt uncharacteristically well, even though she'd woken up way earlier than necessary on a weekend. There was a bitter, disgusting taste in her mouth and her right foot felt sore as if she had twisted it sometime the night before but other than that, there was a suspicious lack of head-splitting pain.

With a smile, she moved to get out of bed and her optimism faltered; the second she moved from her prone position, nausea shot down from her head to her stomach, like lightning from a discount Zeus. She put a hand up to her mouth as if to physically hold back on the sick that were churning in her stomach.

"Do not throw up on my bed," said a voice, and Beth looked around until the room spun. Lydia was propped up on her bed, head tousled from sleep and a crease on her cheek where she had laid on a fold. It was rare to see Lydia not carefully made up from top to bottom. Seeing her friend like this helped Beth remember that under the snarky exterior and designer clothes, Lydia was a human who got creases on her face just like everyone else.

"Wasn't I supposed to take the guest bedroom?" Beth said after she was sure she wouldn't be sick on Lydia's floor. She warily leaned back against the headboard and folded her hands across her uneasy stomach.

"You were," came the clipped response. "You staggered in here after the last guest had gone home. I'm not actually sure if you fell asleep or passed out. Jackson wanted to drag you outside and leave you in a bush." Lydia stretched her arms above her head and shook her head so her red locks danced around her. She looked entirely too lively this early in the morning and after a party no less. "I tried to wake you but you were already totally gone."

Beth closed her eyes and groaned. The fact that Jackson had been there to witness Drunk Beth climb into bed with his girlfriend was beyond embarrassing. "Well, I'm glad you were there to save my arse from getting hypothermia," she mumbled.

Lydia patted her on the hand. "What makes you think I had anything to do with it? You have Danny to thank for that." She swung her legs over the bed and showed the first sign that she wasn't as unaffected as she looked. Her legs were a bit wobbly as she walked to the vanity and sat down.

Beth groaned louder and hid under a blanket. "Danny was here too? Well, isn't that profoundly mortifying. Wait," she said, and ripped the blanket away so she could fix Lydia with a horrified look, "where's Jackson? God, I didn't spoon him, did I? Lydia, tell me I didn't spoon him."

Lydia looked at Beth in the mirror, while she brushed her hair. She smiled haughtily. "As much as I like watching you writhe in embarrassment, you did not. He went home with Danny after you rudely took his spot. He looked pissed, too, so you better come up with a damn good apology."

"I was unseemly drunk, I'm not sure I can be entirely accountable for my actions."

Lydia put the brush down and turned around in the chair so she could look at Beth properly. "Spoken like a true alcoholic," she said with a sugary voice.

"Alright, I'll buy him a card or something. D'you think they sell ‘sorry I climbed into your girlfriend's bed' at the grocer's?"

"After you moved to Beacon Hills I can imagine they'll see an increase in apology cards sales." Beth stuck out her tongue at Lydia, who grimaced in return. "Have anyone ever told you that you literally sleep like the dead? For a moment I thought you'd stopped breathing."

"You are not the first to tell me that. My mum called 999 once when I was 5 because she thought I'd stopped breathing." Beth balanced on the edge of the bed while she fumbled around after her phone, which she found in the pocket of her discarded jeans. The sight of the cracked screen reminded her of the incident on the road, and she looked up at Lydia. She hadn't told anyone about what happened and she could already hear Lydia's voice admonishing her for being scared of what was probably a deer. Maybe it was better to wait until she really was accosted by some kind of cryptid before telling her friend.

Her phone was again courting death by flat battery, but Beth saw the text from Allison before it went out. "Allison says she got home safely last night. Nice of her to check in."

"Yeah, what happened to her and Scott last night? I saw them out by the pool but then …"

"She left me a voicemail that was pretty cryptic, but apparently something happened with Scott and she got a ride home from Stiles."

"Who?"

"And who leaves voicemails in 2011, honestly? Just send a text like a normal person." Beth began the job of shimmying on her trousers from the day before. "I'm famished. Do you want breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure. And since you've enjoyed so much of my hospitality," Lydia said and looked pointedly at the bed, "I think it's only fair that you get to make it."

"Lydia! First, I have to play photographer all night for you, and now you order me to cook breakfast. What am I, a glorified butler?"

Lydia paused in the doorway and smiled innocently. "Glorified?" she said

Beth went downstairs to the kitchen, limping a bit with every second step she took. She stopped dead in her tracks when she rounded the corner to the big open kitchen. It was an absolute disaster zone. The kitchen drain had been clogged with some unknown substance and the kitchen counter was littered with empty bottles and red plastic cups. The smell of alcohol that lingered all over the house was concentrated in the kitchen, where the floor was sticky from spilt drinks.

Very slowly, like someone who knew they had to help clean up, but really didn't want to, Beth started collecting empty bottles and putting them by the white, futuristic looking bin. She pointedly ignored whatever was going on with the sink.

It didn't take long before Lydia descended the stairs, wrapped in a silk dressing gown and with hair still wet from the shower. She scrunched her nose as she overlooked the chaos in the kitchen.

"I really regret staying the night. I know the last one helps clean but goddamn, this is going to take a week, it is!" Beth said from where she was crouched by the fridge. Somehow, a drunk partygoer had managed to wedge an empty bottle of Malibu in the little gap between the fridge and the counter, and Beth was trying to wriggle it out without breaking it. The contents of it were spilt all around the fridge, making everything smell like sickly sweet coconut.

"Yes, well. I'll go buy some breakfast. I don't think this kitchen is suitable to prepare anything right now." Lydia shot the sink a dismayed look, which Beth didn't think was quite appropriate for the level of grossness currently clogging up the sink. Injury

"Yeah, I think you just might be right. Just being in here is a health hazard. I've gotten hepatitis A to Z just from just standing here," Beth said and got up from a crouched position. She carefully navigated through the kitchen, trying to avoid stepping in the goo as much as possible.

While Lydia got ready to leave, Beth took a tour of the house to assess the damage. The kitchen was definitely the worst part, although someone had puked in the bushes next to the pool and she found some discarded male underwear behind a couch, which she promptly shoved as far down the bin as it could get.

Lydia still hadn't returned so Beth went to take a shower in the guest bathroom. After a bit hunting around, she found some fluffy white towels in one of the cupboards. The fresh feeling after the shower didn't last long though, as she had to put on her old clothes from the night before that smelled slightly of sweat and rum.

Lydia returned not long after with bagels and coffee. When they had eaten breakfast out on the terrace - the only place that didn't stink of alcohol - operation clean up commenced, with much whining from Beth. It didn't take a week but it did take them four hours of combined work to make the house presentable again. It wasn't exactly clear if Mrs Martin knew the exact extent of the party or not.

"What do you think happened to the girl in the woods?" Beth asked as she lounged on the couch. She was waiting for her father to come pick her up. "It's quite the way to start the new school year."

Lydia, who sat in an armchair and looked as exhausted as Beth felt – another sign that she wasn't as robotic as some might think – looked up from her phone. "You sound like I had anything to do with it."

"No, no, not like that. But has anything like this ever happened before?" Beth wriggled a bit so she could see Lydia from her prone position. She frowned when she saw Lydia turning her attention back to her phone.

"It probably has, given that this isn't exactly a new town," Lydia said. Her thumbs flew over the screen as she texted like her life depended on it.

Beth waited a moment before sighing and sitting up. "Someone told me that they found animal hairs on the body. What do you think it was?" Silence. Her features scrunched up into an annoyed grimace. "Me personally, I think it was Sasquatch who'd done it." Narrowing her eyes, she waited for Lydia to react. "Maybe he had help from his boyfriend the Mothman. What do you reckon their children would be called? Sasman? Mothsquatch?"

"You think I'm not listening to you, but I am."

"It doesn't sound like it."

Lydia lowered the phone a fraction of an inch. "Maybe that's because I simply. Don't. Care." She shot Beth an annoyed look before she returned to her phone.

Beth huffed indignantly and crossed her arms in front of her. Maybe Lydia didn't care about this, but she did, and the least Lydia could do was humour her a bit. "Oh, sorry. Maybe you'd care more if she'd been wearing the wrong colours or if she was killed by a-a wayward Louis Vuitton."

With an icy look, Lydia put down her phone. "Louis Vuitton. Really, Beth? You can do better than that."

"I think it got my point across well enough. You don't care about anything if it doesn't involve flaunting you status that, by the way, no one's going to care about in five years."

For a split second, there was an unidentifiable emotion in Lydia's eyes before they hardened to stone. "At least people will remember me for something. Why exactly is it you insist on that camera? Is there an actual reason or is it just because you know that is literally the only way people will find you interesting? Let's face it; I think we both know the answer." Her smile was all hard edges.

That hit a nerve. Beth's eyes prickled with unshed tears and her throat constricted painfully. Without another word, she got up and snatched her things from where they had been dropped on the coffee table. Lydia said nothing, having returned to typing on her phone. Stalking out of the room, Beth tried her hardest to keep from crying until she was out of the house. The moment the front door had slammed with more force than necessary, hot tears streamed down her face.

A few minutes later, she was perched on the curb in front of Lydia's house. Rubbed her eyes forcefully, she tried willing the tears to go away before Jaime showed up. She didn't feel like explaining what had happened to anyone.

Just as that thought had ended Jaime's car rounded the corner. With a groan, Beth got up and blinked furiously to get rid of the remaining tears.

"What happened?" Jaime asked her, as she closed the door behind her. He didn't start the car but sat and watched her expectantly. "Have you been crying?"

"Allergies," Beth said miserably and started crying again.

Jaime looked alarmed and grabbed her shoulder. "Beth, did something happen at the party?"

The quivering in his voice made Beth look up. She was used to him being, not indifferent, but passive, or solid or thoughtful. Now he just looked scared.

"Wha- oh god, no. Nothing happened at the party. I just had a row with Lydia is all. Honestly." She placed a hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"You know you can talk to me about anything," Jaime said. There was still a hint of panic in his eyes.

"I know that," Beth said and shot him a kindly smile. "But really, I‘m fine."

Jaime shot her a concerned look, but he still started the car and began the drive home. Beth chatted along, trying to convince Jaime that there was nothing wrong. There was, of course, but nothing she really felt like discussing with her father.

When Beth got home, she haphazardly threw her stuff in her room, before she found Chloe and told her everything about the fight. It felt good getting it out there, and Chloe was a good listener, knowing exactly when to curse angrily at Lydia.

After dinner, she sat down in front of her computer, idly munching on some salted almonds, and waited for the computer to finish downloading the photos she'd taken of the party.

After a couple of minutes, the computer dinged, and Beth began the arduous task of sifting through all the photos she had taken and find out which one of them were suitable for eternalisation on the internet.

"Beth, what are you even doing?" she mumbled, as she looked at a particularly bad one. The camera had been crooked when she took it, so the drunk guy in the picture looked like he was standing nearly horizontal. The camera hadn't had time to focus properly so his outline was blurred enough that identification was impossible. "Away to the shame box with you," she sang, and with a couple of clicks, she saved it to a password-protected folder called "sin bin.”

A couple after that one made Beth squeal with laughter. She filled her lungs to shout after Chloe, but let it out in a huff when she saw the closed door. There was no way Chloe would hear her.

With a sigh, Beth got up and almost fell over her own feet in the hurry to get to the door. "CHLOE!" she yelled as soon as it was open. The responding crash as something fell to the floor from Chloe's room made Beth wince.

"God, what is it?" Chloe emerged from her room, looking frazzled at Beth, "is something wrong?"

"Oh, uh- I found your new profile picture for Facebook," Beth said with a sheepish grin.

"Are you kidding me? I thought a bear had crawled through your window and attacked you or something." She massaged her heart and scowled at Beth.

"Are there even bears in California?"

"How the hell should I know? And that's not the point. So you almost gave me a heart attack over a profile picture? I'm glad to hear my life means so much to you." Chloe flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned around to head back to her room.

"Not just any picture. Seriously, if you use this I-I swear, people will be all over you. You'd need to beat them off with a stick."

"Ew! Is that really how it goes? But alright, show me, then. Is this from the party?"

"It is indeed," Beth said and returned to her computer.

"Is there any of Felix Gamble? He's the creep that I told you about, the one who called me a whore when I said I didn't want to date him. I want some good blackmail on him when he inevitably tri-oh, my god." Chloe stopped dead when she saw the screen. "Beth, delete it."

"Aw, what? It's hilarious! I'm not going to delete it!"

"Beth! I will frickin' kill you," Chloe screeched, and dove for the computer. In the foreground of the photo was a lacrosse player striking a Captain Morgan pose, but it was the background that was really interesting. Chloe stood behind him with her arms stretched over her head, eyes and mouth wide open like a discount The Scream. It looked like she had been acting out a pretty dramatic looking story, but the camera had only caught that one, unfortunate snapshot.

Beth tried to wrestle Chloe away from the computer, but the older girl had height and strength on her side. She pinned Beth to the office chair and sat on her.

"That's not fair!" Beth squealed and tried to bat Chloe's hands away from the computer. The weight of Chloe was not unsubstantial, but it wasn't enough to make Beth panic. Her overworked muscles stung when she pushed against Chloe's back.

"What is going on in here? Jesus, are you fighting?" came Louie's voice from the doorway. Both Beth and Chloe stopped and looked at him for about 2 seconds before they resumed their fight.

"No worries Dad-I just … got it!" Chloe yelled triumphantly as the computer swooshed, indicating that the photo had been deleted.

"Uh, Okay," Louie said, and shook his head. "Um, Chloe, I think you're suffocating Beth."

"Gerroff!" Beth grunted as she tried to shove Chloe off her lap.

With a long-suffering sigh, Chloe got up and put her hands on her hips. "Next time I won't let you off so easy."

Beth dramatically gulped in air, as if someone had tried to drown her. "You nearly killed me, you did. I think I have a broken rib. Louie, she broke my rib!"

Louie snorted. "Please keep me out of this. I just wanted to make sure you didn't break the furniture."

"Your concern warms my heart."

"I am a saint, I know," Louie said with a smile and retreated from the door.

Chloe snorted and went to drag a spare chair over to the desk. "I think I'd better stay here and keep you in your place, in case you got any more unfortunate pictures."

"Maybe we'll find an embarrassing one of Felix Gamble," Beth said and scooted her chair closer to the computer.

They spent the next five minutes alternating between laughing and cringing at the often mortifying moments caught on film. Beth stopped when they got to a photo of two people she recognised. She furrowed her brow in confusion. "That's weird." On the photo Allison and Scott were facing forward, both wearing a dopey smile. Or Allison was, anyway, but Scott's face was obscured by two big lens flares.

Chloe leaned forward to get a better look. "Uh, that's unfortunate. Looks like the dude's got laser beams coming out of his face. You think he's about to kill Sarah Connor?"

"I don't think the Terminator had laser eyes," Beth said and zoomed in on Scott's face. Even with a lens hood, there was the possibility of flares, especially at night, but it seemed a little extreme, and none of the others was affected.

"Do you know who it is?"

"It's Scott McCall."

"Oh, so that must be Allison. She just started a week ago, right? Damn girl, she moves fast. She already snatched the best lacrosse player."

"Did you know that if you say ‘Scott McCall is the best lacrosse player' three times in the bathroom mirror, Jackson will come up from the shower drain and beat you to death with a lacrosse stick?"

Chloe laughed and shook her head. "No, but I want to see that horror movie."

Beth moved to the next picture and paused with her hand hovering over the keyboard. She had totally forgotten Derek Hale, but that wasn't what made her pause: his face, like Scott's, was hidden behind two big lens flares.

"Uh, is it your camera, maybe?" Chloe pushed Beth's hand away and zoomed in on his face. "I don't recognise him. Do you know who it is?"

Beth paused and looked at Chloe. She was a rotten liar but still, she didn't want to worry Chloe unduly. "No, he was just standing in the corner sort of … staring."

"Creepy. He probably wasn't invited because he's the kind of person to stand in the corner and stare." With a flourish, Chloe clicked on the next photo. "Ah, that's better. No flares of any kind."

Beth breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god. I was actually scared my camera was broken."

It was just past ten when they finished going through the rest of the photos. Beth yawned and stretched her arms over her head. "I think I'm heading to bed."

Chloe sent her an incredulous look. "It's Saturday. What are you, 90?"

"I'm tired is what I am. I spent most of the day helping Lydia clean up after all you hooligans."

"I would've walked home if it meant I could get out of cleaning an entire house. Why didn't you try to sneak out the window or something?"

"Because I'm not a horrible friend. But I mean it, get out." Beth weakly pushed Chloe towards the door.

"Alright, I'm going. Goodnight, Grandma'," Chloe said and waved before she disappeared out of the door.

When Beth finally slid under the covers, she was off to a lovely, dreamless slumber in less than a minute.

When Beth arrived at school the next Monday she found Allison by her locker. The girl had a forlorn look in her eye as she gathered her books.

"Good morning," Beth said cheerfully, as she went to her locker and punched in the combination.

"Hey," came the unenthusiastic answer.

Beth frowned and leaned towards Allison's locker. "Are you all right? You sound a bit glum. Bad case of the Mondays, eh?" She jumped when Allison slammed her locker closed.

"I don't get boys," Allison said hotly, "I mean, Scott and I were having fun. We were dancing and suddenly he just runs off." She huffed a lock of hair out of her face and crossed her arms.

"Oh, right! That. Um, he didn't say what was wrong?" Beth moved closer, fiddling a bit with her a wayward curl.

"No!" Allison huffed and thrust out her jaw. "He told me that he'd be right back, but then he just took off in his car. I'm sorry for just leaving without saying goodbye, by the way. I tried to find you but- "

Beth waved her apology away. "Yeah, no, that's fine. I don't think I'd want to stay there either. So, he just abandoned you? What a dick move. Lucky that Stiles was there to drive you home."

One of confusion replaced Allison’s frustrated look. "Stiles? I-What do you mean? He didn't drive me home. He came by later, though, which was really weird."

"Huh? You said that one of Scott's friend drove you home didn't you?" Beth tried to remember if she had seen Scott with anyone else, but by the looks of it, he only really hung out with Stiles.

"Yeah, his name is Derek."

Beth's mouth fell open and her spine straightened as if she had just gotten a face full of ice water. Derek Hale had driven Allison home. Derek Hale the sour looking, serial killer-esque creep who was frightening enough to almost send her running through the dark forest, had driven Allison home. Had been alone with her in a car.

"Beth, are you-"

"Why would you ever go with him? Allison, that is really dangerous!" Beth's raised voice made some students shoot them weird looks. Beth ignored them.

Allison crossed and uncrossed her arms. "He's a friend of Scott's, so I didn't think it would be that big of a problem. Honestly, he was a lot more normal than you are right now," she said, with a bit of bite in her tone.

Beth, who had been gearing up for a proper tirade, paused and deflated a bit. Allison hadn't had the same weird experiences with Derek, so of course, she wasn't as wary of him. "You said that he was Scott's friend?" That was just as strange as Derek showing up at a high school party at all; a week ago, Scott hadn't even known Derek, though he could have become friends with him since then. Beth doubted it, though, as it didn't seem like Derek was someone who made friends easily. His death stare and brooding appearance must be a pretty big spanner in the works when it came to that.

"Yes," Allison said exasperatedly, "and I'm totally fine. Really." She uncrossed her arms and gestured to herself. "Not gotten eaten by a bear."

It's not the bear I'm scared of, Beth though, but decided against arguing further. She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders to relieve some tension. "Alright, then. Just be careful, yeah?"

Allison smiled but it looked slightly strained. "I promise, mom." She said with a fair bit of annoyance in her voice.

Beth remembered that her parents were both overprotective and scary as hell, and Allison probably didn't need her friends start too, so she changed the subject. "Have you talked to Scott at all?"

Allison sighed and shook her head. "No. I kind of ignored his texts. This is more of a face to face deal; don't you think?"

Beth's eyes widened when she saw the object of their conversation walk through the doors and head for his locker. He locked eyes with Beth and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Uh, yeah, Scott's face is right there if you want to give it a go," Beth said and returned to her locker.

Allison froze but she didn't turn around. "Is he coming over here?" she asked in a panicked voice.

"Uh," Beth said and stole a look at the boy. He was facing his locker but hadn't made a move to open it. His head was bowed and he rested his forehead against the steel door. There was no doubt he knew he was in the doghouse. "He's not … he's doing, uh- something with the locker."

Allison, who looked flustered, schooled her face into a stony look. "Let's go," she said and grabbed Beth by the arm, who barely had time to close her locker before Allison dragged her down the hall. Her high heels clicked against the floor and she had a determined look. Beth felt positively bumbling beside her.

It only lasted until they rounded the corner. As soon as Scott was out of sight, Allison deflated and leaned against the wall.

Beth gave her shoulder a little squeeze.

Allison buried her face in her hands. "Do you think I should give him a second chance?" Her voice came out muffled.

Beth leaned against the wall next to her. "I am a terrible judge of character, so you really shouldn't ask me. What I can say is that you two seemed pretty happy when I saw you at the party."

Allison removed her hands and looked at Beth. "I just don't know …"

"Hey, who says you have to decide now? Let him suffer a bit. He deserves it." Beth lightly bumped Allison's shoulder with her own.

Allison smiled sincerely for the first time. "That's true."

The first bell rang, making them both jump. They hurried to class talking idly about anything not related to Scott or Derek or the party.

When Allison came through the door she stopped dead, and Beth crashed into her. She turned around with a harried look. "Switch places with me, please."

Beth looked over Allison's shoulder. Scott was sitting upright in his chair, his big, brown eyes trained on them.

"Um, okay. But then you'll just be in front of him. I reckon it's easier to ignore him …"

"Oh, thank you so much." Allison turned around again and squared her shoulders. She waltzed to Beth's seat and sat down primly, where she studiously ignored Scott, who was trying to talk to her.

When Beth passed him, she narrowed her eyes at him. The look of pure dejection she got in return made her waver, just a bit.

She had barely sat down in the seat before Stiles was leaning out of his chair towards her. The last bell hadn't rung yet, so he didn't really need to whisper like he did. "Are you angry at Scott too?" he asked, and threw his out his arm to keep himself from falling to the floor. Beth, who had leaned out from her chair, too, almost caught it in the face.

"Solidarity," she said, after dodging his flailing limb, "and I'm not happy with you either. You just left too."

Stiles had the grace to look embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his head and looked around the room. "Uh, yeah. Something came up, uh-"

"Does that something have something to do with Scott?" Beth asked and raised a brow. She had leaned out further, to avoid Scott hearing them talking about him. "What the hell happened?"

"N-no, why should it? I don't know what happened," he said, shaking his head vigorously.

Beth sent him a deadpanned look. "How stupid do you think I am? I have questions for you and-" she gestured wildly at Scott, who seemed to have resigned himself to mope at the back of Allison's head.

"There are no questions! We-uh, we just …" Stiles trailed off and shot a desperate look at Scott's back.

"Wow, who wouldn't believe you with a reply like that," Beth said dryly.

Stiles stared at her with wide eyes and opened his mouth though no sound came out. In that moment the last bell rang and with a sigh of relief he sat back in his chair and got suspiciously engrossed in his notes.

Beth made a sound of frustration but leaned back as well. Leaning her head on her hands, she tried to pay attention as the teacher droned on about Kafka.

At lunch, Beth had done her utmost to forget about Stiles and Scott. When she walked through the door, she remembered her row with Lydia the other day, when she saw the girl in question sitting by the centre table, already with a tray of cheap cafeteria food in front of her. When Beth sat down with her equally as stodgy lunch, Lydia regarded her with a cold stare, before she demonstratively turned around and started a conversation with some lacrosse player. Beth felt a stab of hurt before it was replaced by anger and she turned around to somewhat aggressively talk to Danny.

"So, who are you playing on Saturday?" Beth asked, as she forcefully stabbed a tough piece of chicken with her fork.

"Westerberg High. They're from the next county over. Um, Beth, are you okay? I think it's already dead." Danny looked pointedly at the now shredded chicken.

Beth, too, looked down at her lunch tray. "Double tap," she offered and started eating what was left of her lunch.

"Did something happen between you and Lydia? She didn't seem that mad when you fell asleep in her bed. Which is, by the way, one of the funniest things I've ever seen, so thank you for that."

Beth groaned and hid her face in her hands. "What's funny for you is utterly mortifying for me, so thanks for bringing it up, mate. And that's not it, anyway. It doesn't matter."

Danny leaned forward and shook his head. "Aw, c'mon. You're never anything else than cheerful. Sometimes it borders on the psychotic."

"Did you somehow work psychotic into a compliment?"

"I didn't fully intend it as a compliment, but-"

"-And you've only known me for two weeks, like. And-and, do you really want to know? I mean really? Are you sure you want to be privy to all my girly teenage angst?”

Danny threw up his hands in defeat. "You know what, I stand corrected. Just forget it."

She spent the rest of the lunch chatting with Danny and shooting the occasional angry glare at Lydia.

Allison approached the subject as they were walking to History. "So, I know why I'm angry at Scott. Why are you angry at Lydia?"

Beth sniffed in what she hoped was a haughty way. "It's so stupid, really. I mean, Lydia is stupid, and I'm totally in the right."

"Naturally," Allison said with a small smile.

"We just fought over … just some stuff. But she kept ignoring me today and it just pisses me off." Beth said and threw down her book on the desk with a loud thud.

Allison sat down at her own desk with a little more composure than Beth. She turned around in her seat so she was facing Beth, and rested her chin on her hand. "So how are you going to fix this? It's too early in the school year for this kind of drama."

Beth, who had hidden her face in her arms, peeked at Allison through her curls. "I'm just going to ignore it like any sane, non-confrontational person would do. I reckon she'll forget it in a couple of days."

Allison made a face. "Wow, that sounds really healthy … although I can't say I wouldn't do the same."

Beth straightened up and looked at Allison properly. "It works, it does. I've yet to lose a single friend from something as stupid as a row."

Allison looked sceptical. "Are you saying you've never fallen out with a friend? I don't believe that."

"Believe it, mate. I'm a friend for life. Why, have you left a slew of abandoned friendships?" Beth froze when she remembered Allison's travel history. There was probably a lot of lost friendships on that path. "Ah, right."

"There's the Beth we know and love," Allison said with a laugh.

Beth merely gave her two thumbs up and a meek smile. Fortunately, the bell rung and Mr Westover saved her from further embarrassing herself.

"Did you know that leeks are the national symbol of Wales?" Beth asked as she looked around the produce section for the aforementioned vegetable. It was after school and Beth and Louie were shopping for tonight's supper.

Louie stood nearby, digging around in a crate of mangos for the best one. "No, I did not. That's a weird national symbol, isn't it?" He thoughtfully studied a mango before he deemed it unsatisfactory and put it back in the crate. "Choose something normal like eagles or freedom like the rest of us."

"Okay, so it's because- ah, here they are –according to legend, Saint David- that's the patron saint of Wales, you know."

"Oh right, him. I love that guy. He's my favourite saint out of all of them." Louie found the perfect mango and moved on to scoop some potatoes into a plastic bag.

"So Saint David ordered his men to wear leeks on their helmet, to distinguish themselves from British invaders. Have you seen the swedes?" Beth glanced at the assorted vegetables like it was their fault she couldn't find her quarry.

"They're in Sweden where they belong."

"Hardy har har. You know, I'm inclined to agree with Chloe: you're not funny and you should probably stop before someone gets hurt." Beth said and smiled cheekily at him.

Louie grabbed a couple of swedes from where they were wedged between the wall and a crate of artichokes. "My humour is amazing, it's just that you need a more developed brain to fully comprehend it. Science. You'll understand when you get older," he said and tried to ruffle Beth's hair, which she quickly dodged.

"Since you're not technically my parent can I swear at you?" She asked innocently.

"No, because if you do then I will tell someone who is definitely your parent, and you'll get grounded." They moved on to the butcher section, where Louie ordered some lamb.

"Maybe I'm just acting up. Isn't that what teenagers are supposed to do?" Beth checked her shopping list for any ingredient they might have missed. "I'm being mean to my dad's new husband. And- and also, I just had to change schools and my mum is marrying some new bloke. I think I'm entitled to a little rebelliousness." She leaned against the trolley in a nonchalant way. It looked less nonchalant when it started to roll away from under her and nearly flattened a kid who walked past with a carton of milk.

After she was done profusely apologising to the kid and his mother, who glared daggers at her the entire time, Beth turned around to look at a snickering Louie. "Thanks for the help, mate. Now I might rebel for real."

Louie got his snickering under control as they moved towards the registers. "Speaking of, what do you think of this new bloke?" He said it in a weird nasal way, which Beth suspected was his British accent.

"Anthony? Uh, he's fine. Not really much to say about him," Beth said and shrugged. The movement looked weird with the way she was slung over the trolley's handlebar. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably at the thought of that whole mess.

"Your mom seems really happy. Wait, hold up." Louie disappeared down an aisle and came back a minute later with some laundry detergent.

"You talked with my mum?"

"I talk with Jaime who talks with your mom. Even more now after you moved here." Louie sighed when he saw the massive line in front of the two open registers.

"Yeah, they just got this new swanky flat. He's a banker, and I don't mean like just a normal bloke working at the tills, I mean a real and true capitalist one percenter. But a Welsh one percenter, which is not as impressive as an American one."

Louie mock gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. "You're lucky you made it out before Mr Fat Cat got his fat cat claws in you."

Beth snorted. "You make him sound like a moustache twirling villain in a kid's film. He's pretty normal. Just boring." He was normal and he made Anna happy, and that was what was most important, Beth kept telling herself.

"Urgh, boring? That's even worse!" Louie said and gave Beth's shoulder a friendly squeeze. "But, and I think I can speak for Chloe too, we're really happy that you're here. But only if you make us delicious dinner, so no pressure."

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#teen wolf #fanfiction #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #stiles/oc #lydia/oc #stiles/oc/lydia #let sleeping wolves lie #oc #beth vinther

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