#last year a coworker tried to do all the art and it was really stressful on them so we are trying to recruit more people to help
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awkward-fallen-angel · 9 months ago
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Note: all proceeds from these go to charity at the end of June!
Hey all my workplace is doing some really cool stuff to raise money for charity during Pride this year... So if you're an artist or know someone who'd be interested let them know!
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If you are an artist who love’s Magic: The Gathering and would like to help us create this year’s selection of tokens and help us raise funds for charity please submit your portfolio/ examples of your work here: https://forms.gle/AXpphugoU499KrXM7
Portfolio Submission deadline April 15th.
All selected artists will receive a copy of this year's Pride tokens as well as $100 of store credit.
(If you are applying from out of state we will ship you $100 worth of product.)
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mbrainspaz · 1 year ago
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ok I worked out another thing that's been stressing me out about this work situation. My main coworker has been gone and the boss refused to let me work overtime and then just... didn't really do anything to fill the gap, right? Today when I brought up my concerns about the stuff being neglected she was all "why didn't you just say so?" Ma'am?! Why didn't I simply explain to you, a person who skipped the meeting we were supposed to have to figure this out & who has no idea how to do my job, exactly how to do my entire job... via text message? On my time off??? aaaaah?! But I couldn't express that so in the moment I was just like, "well someone should probably feed these two horses at this time and start the sprinklers in these specific paddocks." She was like, "oh... that's all?" And I felt like an idiot for even bringing it up when she put it like that—but no actually that's not all. This is why I can't just do meetings and talk this stuff out! I can't process all the subtext and all the angles in the moment. I could tell I was deeply upset about how she'd handled the situation but I couldn't fully explain why. It was because not only did she tell me not to do the work that needed doing and repeatedly downplay my concerns, she still expected me to run the business by proxy—or she just didn't care if the work didn't get done. The closest I got to actually expressing my frustration was when I said, "you know I've been working half-days for the last three days—what did you think was going to happen? I'm never out there just doing nothing. Things haven't been getting done. I asked to be allowed to do it and you said no. You said you would do it, but you didn't know what needs to be done." And she said, "That's why I need you to tell me. It's all about communication." No! NO! That's why you should have let me do my damn job. Now she wants me to take tomorrow off and it's just gonna be the two kids and the temp guy working with the old guy who doesn't even technically work here?!? She keeps texting me trite things like 'I value you' but it's so transparent I can barely see it. If she understood a thing about me she wouldn't bother. I know she's annoyed with me. I'm annoyed with me.
She didn't give me a coherent schedule all week so I had to make up my own where I was working 4 half days in a row and she just.... nobody cared that nobody was here to run the business all afternoon for FOUR DAYS. If I hadn't gone in on my 'free' time to feed one of the old horses he'd probably be deceased by now. I mean the old guy stepped up and helped a lot but nobody else knows how to run the whole barn all day. Nobody else CARES.
So yeah it's my bad for not busting down her office door 7 days ago and giving her step by step instructions on how to run this business and manage a bunch of green employees I don't have the power to schedule. AAAAAAH! I hate that every time I meet with her I have to be so focused on being calm and professional and normal that she just steamrollers me with her reasonable demeanor and talk about all the things she's trying to do to make this place run right—if only she had more time and wasn't sooooo busy managing way too many other more important things. That's absolutely not my problem. I can't tell her how to do her job. And she couldn't tell me how to do mine if she tried. And I'm like, fine—pay me to just take care of it all! I'm good at caring. I could run this place if they'd just LET me. They keep leaving me to cope with endless problems they won't let me solve. I don't even want the responsibility. I don't really need more money from them. Apart from the existential dread slowly driving me towards a manic breakdown I've had a great time this week actually having free time to work on my art. I started editing a new video for the first time in 2 years! I'm just glad I didn't overwork myself for them just to get in trouble for it again. Well, except for the 3-4 extra hours I spent doing a little this or that here and there just to make sure nobody died. How could I ever explain that to someone who happily works in an office for a soulless, faceless, money-gobbling, lifeforce-devouring, bystander-crushing unstoppable gestalt entity that is a management corporation.
Ugh. I can't even stand listening to me rant about this. Actually they should just fire me. It'd be a relief. I'd go live in the desert and scream at the stars like gods intended.
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dear-cousin · 2 years ago
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Saturday afternoon, May 13th
Dear cousin,
It has been a while. Life seems to never stop. I apologize, however for being so long away. You will forgive me, I hope.
I suppose I had best give updates.
I am moving soon. I had decided months ago that I had been living away from my family for long enough and all I really wanted was to go back home. So, I resigned from my job effective in June. You see, even though I want to leave I can’t just rush to do it.
Firstly, because I had committed myself to staying with throughout the school year. I didn’t want to abandon my students, my administration, or my fellow teachers. What they say about the teaching shortage is unfortunately too true. At the beginning of the school year we had several teachers leave and their positions were never filled. Thankfully, there are a couple of amazing long term subs who took over. But I did not want to leave another classroom empty this year. Or force my coworkers to give up their planning period to cover my classes.
Secondly, I believe that as a social studies teacher it is easier for me to find a position for a new school year rather than hope for an opening in the middle of this one. Even though I am a certified teacher with experience I worry that I won’t be an attractive candidate for schools since I don’t coach anything.
I really haven’t done much packing which isn’t great since I have to leave in a couple of weeks. However, my wonderful sisters have agreed to come help me. After living in one place for so long I have collected an awful lot of Stuff.
I will also have to pack my classroom but that should be a bit easier.
As for more immediate things in life, I went to an arts festival last night. I bought earrings, dice, a sticker, and some yummy treats. One pair of earrings are clear purple gummy bears. They are adorable. My dice are these pretty pastel pink and blue. The technical color is “sea shell” and I suppose they kind of look like mother of pearl when the light catches it just right. My sticker is adorable. It’s a little frog with a red toadstool wizard hat and a staff as well as a fluffy little bird perched on the hat. One of the yummy treats I bought was this savory ricotta brioche roll. It was delicious. The other, which I haven’t tried yet, is a bourbon bacon cinnamon roll. I hope to have it with my afternoon coffee. I also got to try free face glitter last night. I asked the girl at the booth and apparently they mix their glitter with aloe to make it stick. Isn’t that amazing? One of my friends was really excited by the prospect because she had never thought of it before.
Honestly, there isn’t much else going on. I have been dreadfully stressed about the job hunt and moving. But, as those are things that I have to wait for, I can’t do anything about it which means I am bored. Stressed and bored. It’s awful.
I do hope to hear from you soon. Feel free to leave a comment or send a message.
Forgetfully,
Your cousin
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harry-writings · 4 years ago
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Bothered
- A blurb in which somebody flirts with Y/n for the first time, and Harry lets jealousy get the best of him
This is a little Drive Me Wild extra for all your valentine’s day needs!!! I hope you enjoy :) 
Masterlist
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“Tequila, please. The best one you’ve got!”
Open bars at work parties are an absolute lifesaver.
Harry and Y/n have been nonstop on their feet since three, wearing their sunday best, talking to all the higher ups and other officials at the firm with as much professionalism as possible. And though it was certainly a nice break from the work setting, it was still a lot for the both of them to keep up with.
It’s nearly eleven now, the party near its end and the exhaustion finally settling in. But Y/n wouldn’t ever dream of passing up unlimited free drinks whenever offered (neither would Harry, but getting her home safe is his biggest priority). Besides, she needed to take the edge off, somehow.
The bartender smiles at her, his eyes looking at her up and down very briefly before making her drink.
She’s humming softly to herself, her fingers tapping against the bar, the palm of her other hand resting on the back of her neck and she looks around the venue, admiring the architecture and the chandeliers that hang from above her.
“How long have you been working for them?” The bartender asks as he slides the shotglass to her, to which Y/n smiles.
“Almost three years! It’s been really good to me so far. I must say, though, it gets a bit stressful and there are a handful of times we end up having to take our work home. But I’ve met some of the best people through the company, so I can’t complain much! Especially when this is the only job I’ve ever considered staying at for so long.”
When the bartender doesn’t answer, yet rather just stares at her with amusement and endearment in his eye, Y/n starts to get nervous.
She considers diverting her attention back to Harry and moving on with her night as if she hadn’t spoken a word at all, but she’s never been the kind of person to walk away from an uncomfortable silence. And most certainly, she has never found it in her will to escape somebody’s pressing and persistent stares.
All of it just makes her so anxious.
So, as an attempt to calm her nerves, Y/n throws her head back as she takes her shot of tequila, her nose scrunching and eyes squinting as it burns down her throat and settles in her chest.
“What about you? How long have you been working as a bartender? I’ve heard it’s a lot of work, remembering all the recipes and stuff. Whenever I went to university, I would go to bars and get drunk by myself and watch how fast all the bartenders made drinks. I found it mesmerising, really. Like an art, almost. A sport, too, I suppose, given how much you all have to think and act quickly yet unmistakably.”
Harry smiles softly to himself, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest as he listens to her get caught up in her rambles.
She doesn’t do that much with him anymore, not in the way she used to. And it isn’t because she’s lost any trust in him, or because she loves him any less — rather, it’s because she trusts and loves him so much more that she doesn’t feel the need to fill any gaps or spaces between them anymore.
He doesn’t make her nervous.
She doesn’t need reassurance with him because she already knows how madly in love they are with one another and how they are undeniably bound to spend the rest of their lives together. The silences they share are comfortable for her, his simple presence enough to make her feel at ease and loved and respected without him having to constantly remind her.
And surely, Y/n still chews his ear off here and there, but he only ever wants more of her.
It’s a disease, his greed and longing for her. She is so enough yet so not enough at the same time, it kills him to think about it, but only in the best way possible.
But the smile and the admiration die down nearly instantly when Harry’s eyes catch the way the bartender looks at Y/n, and the way he straightens himself before her, and the way his bottom lip tucks between his teeth ever so slightly.
Harry crosses his arms at this, watching the way another man is drooling and fonding over his Y/n and not at all trying to hide it. And the sad part is that he can’t even blame him for it — how could he? He had done the very same thing for nearly two years straight.
So he suffers with it in silence.
“My goodness, I do love me a woman who can carry a conversation.”
Harry’s eyes squint over at him, his arms still crossed over his chest, his fingers twisting as he watches him blink flirtatiously at Y/n and the upward twitch of his lip whenever she flips her hair over her shoulder.
She only ever does that when she’s sweating, he knows this because she’s his girlfriend and he knows her more than he’s ever known himself. He also knows that Y/n thinks too lowly of herself to ever consider one’s kindness as flirting.
And though Harry wouldn’t dare to dream of changing anything about her, he does wish, just this once, that she’d see it.
Y/n blushes at his comment, but only because she doesn’t know what to say.
“Can I have another shot, please?” She asks as a form of distraction, but in such a sweet manner the bartender barely seems to notice. “I never get to go out to drink much nowadays, with work and all. So, I’m sorry if I order too much. Large groups of people aren’t really my thing. Not that I hate people, or anything. I guess they just make me nervous.”
And as the bartender pours her shot glass full of tequila, his eyes don’t make the slightest move to leave her. He’s gawking, looking smug as if he could ever stand a chance.
Y/n pretends not to notice.
“Look, I close down the bar in an hour. And since large groups of people aren’t really your thing, why don’t I take you somewhere nice —”
“Oh...”
“— just you and me, so I can have the chance to get to know you more? Maybe in more ways than one, if I’m lucky?”
Oh, fuck no.
Flirting is one thing, but listening as some stranger talks about wanting to have sex with his girlfriend is something entirely different. Especially when she hasn’t done anything other than be nice and considerate towards him.
He’s taking advantage of her kindness.
Harry can’t hold himself back anymore.
“Excuse me?”
And curse his fucking natural lack of emotion because it was supposed to sound threatening and protective, but rather, it must have come off the way any other customer were to grab a bartender’s attention because he looks over at him with a tight and strained smile, clearly laced with annoyance, with not a hint of suspicion.
“Yes, sir, what can I help you with?”
Harry clenches his jaw and nods his head, his gaze falling to the top of the bar as he tries — really, really tries — to keep himself together instead of knocking this poor bloke’s teeth in.
The urge is there, but he could never scare Y/n like that, or sacrifice his job for satisfaction’s sake — he was lucky he didn’t jeopardize it when he landed a solid right hook on his coworker a few months back. But to make such a rude, blunt, disrespectful comment to his girlfriend is too much for him to process.
But it’s not all anger. There’s something else there — something else brewing and swelling inside of him that’s never been there before. He can’t identify it no matter how hard he tries.
“It would help me tremendously, actually, if you were to stop asking to sleep with my girlfriend right in front of me.”
It’s silent for a moment, the air thick with tension as the bartender looks both between Harry and Y/n, Y/n and Harry. He looks weary of it, as if it were so impossible for her to ever be seen with somebody like him.
“You’re with him?” He asks Y/n, as if Harry’s word wasn’t enough and it nearly throws him off the deep end.
Y/n’s eyes blink with confusion and shock as she tries to adjust herself to her surroundings. Everything happened so quickly to her, she feels like she can’t keep up.
Harry senses this — he senses her uncertainty and uneasiness and takes notice in the way her fingers begin to grip at her shot glass a bit tighter. Confrontation and arguments are not Y/n’s strong suit and in the hands of either one, she is defenseless.
“Is my word not enough for you?”
The bartender lifts his hands up in defense, his eyebrows raised as if somehow proving a point he’s clearly been missing. “Can’t blame me for assuming she’s single, you’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.”
Harry’s hands turn to fists, his jaw clenching and eyebrows twitching as he hears him speak all the words he’d rather die than hear spoken again.
How a complete stranger can cut a wound so deep within him is unfathomable, but here he is, bleeding out with all his insecurities and flaws and weaknesses along with it. And it pains him. It hurts and if one more wrong word is spoken, he’ll fall victim to all the darkest parts of himself.
He can’t risk that, not around Y/n.
“I would highly suggest you stop talking now —”
“You aren’t even interested in her! I gave her more attention in the last ten minutes than you’ve given her all night!”
“Hey.” Y/n cuts in with pouted lips, her face fallen as her voice quivers at the argument brewing in front of her. “That’s not true. He — he’s been beside me all night. I thought it was — I thought it was obvious.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going home.”
Harry’s tone is unlike anything she’s ever heard. It’s stern, harsh, laced with impatience as he stands from his barstool and scrambles to gather her belongings.
And Y/n’s at a loss, just standing against the bar helplessly, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and shaking lips. He has never been this angry at her before and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Talking was what got them into this mess, she’s sure talking won’t get themselves out of it.
But it doesn’t hurt to try.
“Wait, H. I’m sorry, I —”
“That’s enough, now. We’re making our last rounds and then we’re going straight home.”
That was the first time he’s ever interrupted her.
-
It isn’t until Harry starts the car that Y/n breaks the silence.
“H, I didn’t know he was going to ask me out on a date.” She speaks with a voice small and shoulders slumped as she tries desperately to fix all the trust she has broken. “I was just trying to be nice and —”
“Not now, Y/n, please.”
She realizes the severity of the situation when he doesn’t call her a pet name.
Her eyes fill with tears, fully aware that even when he was most upset with her, he never interrupted her while talking or avoided her gaze like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He’s doing both right now and to say that it hurt her is an understatement.
He’s sick of hearing me speak. He’s angry at me for talking too much to everybody and not noticing the consequences. He’s tired of listening to me make excuses for myself when I’m never going to change. He doesn’t want this anymore.
Her mind can’t help but to think such things, and though deep down in her heart she knows he’d never feel that way towards her, words of her past can’t help but torment her in the heat of this moment. Because this is so different than how it usually is with him, and it all started with her.
Harry can feel how much of a toll his words took on her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He is feeling so many things, and processing so much, he feels like he’s lost himself. All sense of everything else had left him the second the bartender spoke the words he always feared to hear.
You’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.
He knows it isn’t true, and he also knows she knows it isn’t true, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
To know other people see it that way devastates him. He doesn’t date Y/n to look uninterested in her, or bored of her, or tired to be with her — he dates Y/n because he wants to show her off, desires to make her and everybody else see how in love with her he is, to make it known she never has to walk this world alone.
To know he has failed to do that simply by being himself is a lot for him to take in.
He sighs, ripping off his glasses so his other hand can rub at his burning eyes before settling the both of them back on the steering wheel, his gaze still set on the windshield.
“I’m sorry for not letting you finish talking, twice now. It wasn’t right and I know what that does to you. And I’m not angry or upset with you, either. I’m just — I’m just not in the mood right now, alright? I need some time to think.”
Y/n nods, fearing that whatever words she chooses to speak will only make it worse.
Neither of them talk the rest of the way home, but that doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t reach his hand over to her thigh to squeeze at it three times, as if to tell her he loves her.
-
It isn’t until they make it into their bedroom that Harry starts to let it all out.
He’s pacing, his hands fidgeting with his clothes and running through his hair, his eyes wild but still refusing to look at her, muttering curses under his breath but nothing directly towards her just yet.
Y/n’s standing by the dresser, taking off her remaining jewelry and allowing him his time to dwell on his feelings. He needs this. She knows she’s the only person that he’ll ever show this kind of emotion to — he couldn't even show it to himself — so she listens, smiles sympathetically at him here and there, refusing to leave his side until this is all figured out.
He huffs before letting out a sickened laugh.
“Who the hell does he think he is? Telling me I’m not interested in you. I can’t be walking around kissing and hovering and touching all over you at a work party, I respect you too much. But he wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he?”
He throws his suit jacket down on the bed, only allowing himself one beat of a moment to shake his head before his hands start to fidget again, pacing around the foot of the bed to try and understand his primary emotion.
He feels a million and ten different emotions scrambling within him at once, he can’t make sense of them. Whether he’s angry, or sad, or hurt, or insecure, or humiliated… he doesn’t know. It all feels the same yet all feels so different. He is utterly lost in all of them.
“Then proceeds to have the nerve to say he’s given you more attention than I have. What the fuck does that even mean? All he does is serve you two drinks and speak one sentence. I give you all my time, all my company, all my attention, and somehow he thinks he’s better for you than me?”
And it hits her.
No wonder he’s been acting so different towards her and so quiet despite him not blaming her for what happened — he’s jealous, which is the exact reason he doesn’t have an understanding with it.
She’s his first girlfriend, and until now, there had never been any reason for him to feel this way.
But as sick and twisted as it sounds, Y/n’s heart warms at the thought of it. Because never once has someone ever had a problem with letting her go. Her loss never affected anybody around her, and so nobody had ever feared it.
To know that out of all people, it’s him who does, means everything to her.
She hums at him, an all too knowing smile on her face as she makes her way to her frantic lover, who stills when he notices her closeness.
Her hands rest at his chest, rubbing at it over his dress shirt, just the way he likes. It reminds him of the night of their first date — when she gave into her cravings and put her hands nearly everywhere they could touch — and so she always goes back to that very first moment.
It never fails him.
“It’s okay, lovebug.” Y/n smiles softly at him, her voice even more soft and tender than usual as she tries to get him to relax.
Her hands slither down the hem of his trousers, her fingers resting just above the swell of his bum and pulling him in closer to her. And he wraps his arms around her shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before bringing his chest toward her cheek for it to nest in.
“Don’t let somebody get the best of you. Especially when they don’t know anything about you or me or our relationship. We know what we are and what we have, it doesn’t matter what he thinks is better for me. I have what’s best. Forever.”
He sighs, the weight of the night lifting from him slightly, but not enough.
He rests his chin on the top of her head, his eyes on the verge of being soaked with tears. Because though he knows her words to be true, he just can’t seem to shake what’s rattling in his bones and picking at his skin.
He wants it all to be okay, and it almost is, just not fully. And it’s killing him from the inside out.
“It’s a new feeling for me.” Harry confesses sadly, trying to think of the right words to say to explain what’s burning in his chest. “It hurts me to feel it. I’m so comfortable and confident in you and yet somehow I can’t — I can’t stop thinking about you and that fucking bartender and him touching you and making you laugh and —”
“You’re jealous.”
She pulls away from him slightly, her eyes looking up at him softly and sympathetically. He gives into her gaze for only a beat longer before looking away from her again, unable to take it.
It all makes sense — the unfamiliar feelings, the scrambling of emotions, the sensitivity to the words that had been spoken about him. His relationship had been threatened for the first time since it started, how could he not be?
“Of course I’m jealous. Which is absolutely horrible because you look so pretty yet it hurts too much to look at you.”
She chuckles, a playful smirk on her face as she reaches her hands up to his cheeks. And she turns his head to the side, forcing his eyes to look into hers as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbones.
Even like this, he is the most perfect man she’s ever seen. She has loved this person longer than she has loved anything else, how he could ever feel jealous of anybody is absolutely beyond her. He is all she will ever need, and everything she will ever want.
He is the only person that has ever deserved her.
“Baby, you have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t think, since the moment I’ve laid eyes on you, I’ve ever bothered to look for anybody else.” His breath faults, then, his heart dropping as if it were falling in love all over again.
And just like that, the hurt is gone.
“I’m yours, H. I have always been yours.”
He wants her to keep going, so instead of answering, he taps the back of her thigh twice. He’s never done so outside of sex, but he needs her all over him, holding him, hanging onto him. He needs it now more than ever.
She giggles, understanding exactly what he wants before jumping up until her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are looped around his neck. He catches her instantly, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck and kissing at the exposed skin.
She loves how much her words have an affect on him.
“I love you so much. I always will. No matter how many sleazy men ask me to sleep with them.”
He whines, lifting his head from her shoulder before looking at her with sad eyes and pouted lips at the subtle reminder that somebody else thought of her that way. Only he has, only he can, it doesn’t matter the circumstance.
She’s his.
She smiles down at him with a small blush on her cheeks, her arms unwrapping from his neck so her hands can grip his face again.
“I sleep with you. Every night. In more ways than one.” She kisses at his lips. “Cause I’m lucky.”
And for the first time tonight, he smiles. And as if that wasn’t enough for her, he laughs too — quietly, breathlessly — his hands rubbing all along her lower back and her thighs.
“Hmm... I am lucky, aren’t I?” Harry hums in bliss, his eyes looking at her fondly as she hangs on his neck in their home and it doesn’t get better than this. She had a man practically drooling on her lap and yet she’s here, with him, loving him, choosing him, just like she always has. “I do have the prettiest girl in the world. And the sweetest. And the strongest.”
“Too bad you couldn’t be bothered.” She teases, a smirk on her lips before her tongue pokes out to run quickly against his closed lips.
He lets out an almost sinister laugh, rumbling so deep in his chest she somehow manages to feel it in her legs.
“Why don’t I show you how bothered I am?”
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drabbleitout · 3 years ago
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#ShareYourProgress Tag Game!
Tagged by: @saedoeswriting and I think @ashen-crest (like 20 years ago) thank you both! This is a really neat game! Tagging: @spacetimewraithwrites, @abalonetea, @idreamonpaper, @sleepy-night-child, @winterandwords, @kaiusvnoir, @writeouswriter, @writer-on-time, and anyone else who sees this who hasn't done it! I know I'm late and you may have already been tagged in this, but I'd love to see everyone's process! (As always, please don't feel pressured or rushed!) Rules: When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag others. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!
I'm going with Time Borrowed since it's my most recent creation
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Inspiration
So this idea started hitting me in the fall of 2021. I was working a job I really hated (I'm talking REALLY hated), and it was making me miss an old job and coworkers I had as security personnel. As we all know, the last few years had been shit, and the wip I was working on at the time was a little too dark and heavy. So I tried to think up something lighter and funnier. So I took inspiration from that previous job, which was my first job with coworkers who were really like a ragtag family, and went for a futuristic hopepunk future.
I was an idiot at my first job, I had no idea how adult world things worked, but I had a great work family to help me out. And I thought, wait, instead of a teenager, what if we played with clueless robot tropes? It's futuristic. It's fun. It'll be cute. And that's where we started, with Beau.
Preparation
I'm gonna be honest, the preparation wasn't its own step (never really is), I usually like to jump in with absolutely no idea where I'm going or what a plot even is. I just wanted to do something fun. Preparation was mostly Character Creation –that was is. No worldbuilding, no plot, just jotting down random ideas that popped into my head, trying to dig up really funny bits and things, and then building a world around it. My main goal was to have fun as more escapism than anything.
Art process
I stumbled across these Fictober prompts and dove head first, making things up as I went. Scribbling out scenes, finding the natural flow/voice of characters, and really trying not to place stress on things. Just have fun. By the end of October, I had a rough plot I wanted to use, but I still wasn't sure how I wanted it to end.
I went into NaNoWriMo and really started to put it together. I started posting snippets and excerpts and really got motivated with feedback! I started really fleshing out worldbuilding and as the new year rolled around really got hit with extraterrestrial ideas to drive home the Sci-Fi aspect.
I finished the first draft in May, and I've let it sit for a while and hope to get back to it shortly.
Thoughts
I love, love this story, which I love most everything I write, but this one is a little bit special. Every step of the way has been fun and comforting, and it doesn't seem daunting or impossible to complete. It might be my first attempt at publishing, and may have ideas for a sequel!
But I hope everyone enjoys reading the bits and pieces I've posted as much as I've enjoyed writing it! The community here has helped in a big way, so thank you to you guys too!
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oliviayamaoka · 3 years ago
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The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)
Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!
Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!
It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.
One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.
Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.
Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.
Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.
Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.
Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.
“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.
“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.
“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.
“Who’s this?” He replied.
“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.
“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?
“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.
“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.
“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.
“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.
You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.
“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.
“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.
“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.
“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.
“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.
“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.
It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.
“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.
“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.
“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.
While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?
“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.
“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.
“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.
“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.
“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.
“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.
“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.
“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.
“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.
“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.
“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.
You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.
“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.
“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.
“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.
“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.
Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.
He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.
Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.
“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.
The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.
December 23rd, 1992
I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.
At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.
Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?
He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.
Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.
Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.
He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.
Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.
About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.
“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.
“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.
“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.
“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.
It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.
As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.
“Hello?” You asked, tired.
“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.
“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.
“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.
“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.
“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.
“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.
“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.
“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.
“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.
You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.
“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.
“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.
“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.
“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.
“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.
“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.
“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.
“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.
You fought tears.
“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.
“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.
“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.
“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.
“Go to hell.” You muttered.
“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.
“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.
“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.
“Fuck you.” You said.
“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.
You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.
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pbandjesse · 2 years ago
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My eyes just started burning and watering?? Very weird. I am home! Safe from the incoming storms. I am really tired but I feel very accomplished. It was a good day. Even if it was stupid stupid hot out.
I did have a nice time though. I slept pretty well last night. And woke up in a good mood. I liked my outfit and my hair looked good. James even said so.
I left here, got breakfast, and headed to camp. I was actually got to camp on time and was able to go in the back way and got up to the art building without any issues.
I didn't have my cit today but that was alright. I was able to get everything set up and was only a little frazzled in the heat. I ended duo throwing shorts on because my thighs hurt from the heat. Something that hadn't happened this summer basically at all. But apparently today is one of the last 90 degree days for the next week at least. I hope that's true.
I had great kids today. I tried my best to ration out the objects for the jars so that no one group was getting all the best stuff. But of course everyone thinks everyone else has the best stuff. But man I tried. I would get even more little things later. But it's still really hard to make sure there is enough things!!
Thankfully though it's going well. And the kids really like the project. And I really like watching them figure out the best way to decorate them. And while they work I got to sew things.
I got three new stuffies done. One large bear, one small bear, and one bunny. The new bunnies are going to be so much better then the sort of square ones I had last year. I am excited. And I got some great feedback from some coworkers and kids and that was awesome.
I was a little short because I was to hot. But I tried really hard not to let it leak out. I would just text Jess the nasty stuff I wanted to say to people.
Lunch was fine. A black bean burger. Not my favorite but I wasn't to hungry anyway. I hung out with Laura for a few minutes. And she promised to bring me the tank vaccum so I could get my table clean for when Frenchie comes home on Friday. I am excited to have him back. I hope it doesn't stress him out to much. I'm not sure how she's been taking care of him. I hope he's doing well.
I only had one group in the afternoon. My youngest campers in day camp one. And they were super sweet I decided they would make their memory jars as memory cups because I wasn't sure about them having glass jars. But they did such a nice job and their pieces were very cute.
I had checked in with Alexi. And after my group was gone and I was cleaned up and everything was safely under the tent, I headed out.
I drove out to Timonium to go to the dollar store there. It's not actually a dollar store anymore. But I still got some good stuff. Glass beads and little things I thought would be cool. I hope this can last me the rest of the week. Fingers crossed.
I went home after that. It was not a bad drive. Though people were being dumb. I got home in one piece and was very excited when I saw Sweetp in the window while I was parking. And then I saw James. And I was like !!! Hello!!!
I came up here and I had a hotdog. James was also having a hotdog. And then they got to work cleaning out sandals from being in the lake yesterday. And I started cleaning the tanks
This took forever. I had to go up and down the ladder to get to Frenchie's tank and it too like 15 bucket fulls to fully rinse it. But it looks great. James helped towards the end because my hands were hurting and getting weak and was afraid I was going to drop the bucket.
Next was the bedroom tank. That one took a lot of work. James tried to help and thought it was clean enough but they didn't take all the water out and I got a little frustrated but it was fine. We sorted it out and now both tanks are pretty clean!! They will cycle until Friday. I think I'm going to get another fish and maybe some freshwater shrimp?? We will see.
I did some organizing. I caught up on my knitting. And James helped me cut some more plushies while I put eyes in the finished friends from today. I have a bag of things to sew now so I'm excited for that. Something to do this week.
Now we are in bed. Both showered and comfy. I am planning on staying at camp the rest of the week. Even though I've really been enjoying coming home. It's alright. I'll enjoy camp for the last couple nights.
I hope you all have a great night. Take care of each other. Wash your hands!!!
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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago
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My Plus-One (Part 1)
EZ Reyes x Reader
Request by the lovely @ly--canthrope​:  The reader has a large ball/award ceremony/something fancy to attend. Her and Ez have been in each other's lives for years and they make a promise that each year, if there is an event to go to, they would go together. Its been a few years since this tradition has played out, and it is brought up in conversation (maybe talking about their plans for that week, what they are doing and busy with etc) and Ez goes, “I am busy, I am going with you to your event” and he is a pure gentlemen (You can decide thing like; are they bordering that blurred line where they are really affectionate with one another and time frame like, he could be at uni still and travels to go see her just for this event because its special to her)
Warnings: none. just some good old pining 🥺🥺
Word Count: 3.4k 
A/N: I loved writing this so much wtf. I switched up the timing of it a little bit but I think it worked out well! I got a little carried away with it (hence the 3.4k lmao) but I just love EZ and I’m a sucker for friendships with feelings. Please enjoy! (requests are always open)
EZ Tag: @noz4a2​ (if you wanna be added just shoot me a message!)
(Part 2)
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You wandered around your small studio apartment, phone held loosely in your hand while you video-chatted with EZ. Both of you had long since given up on making sure that you held the camera at flattering angles. Besides, you were trying to make dinner and not even EZ could stop you from getting food.
“So glad I get to have this conversation with half of your face,” he laughed, shaking his head.
You held the phone up so you could get a better look at him—he was sitting at the table in his trailer, phone propped up as he typed away on his laptop. “This better?” you laughed as you tried to set it up on your counter so he could see more of your face.
“Much,” he smiled, “I miss you.”
You glanced over at him as you turned the stove on, “Miss you too, EZ.”
“So,” you could hear the clicking of his keyboard in the background, “what’re your plans for the week?”
“Meh, not a whole lot going on. I do, though, have a gala for work this Saturday.”
“Oh?” he raised his eyebrows, “Sounds fancy.”
You chuckled, nodding as you waited for your water to boil, “Yea, kinda. I was thinking,” you looked at him through the lens of your phone, “If you aren’t busy, and if you really miss me, you could maybe come and be my date. It’s all paid for and everything already. All you’d have to do is show up and be my arm-candy,” you batted your eyelashes.
“Ah, like the good old days.”
“C’mon, it’s been a while since one of us had to drag the other to an event that was way above our paygrade.”
“What’re you talking about? You just drove out to visit me last year for an event.”
You rolled your eyes, “Your patch-in party is not the same as a fundraising gala, Ezekiel. Although,” you laughed, “it was undoubtedly more fun than this is going to be.”
“Giving me the hard sell, Y/N,” he laughed and shook his head.
“If you’re too busy with club shit, I get it. I know I didn’t really give you much of a heads-up.”
“Well…” he dragged out the word, milking every letter for all it was worth, “I am gonna be busy.”
“Fuck,” you sighed, “I get it, I do. Sorry I always protcrastin—”
“Let me finish,” he smiled, “I’m gonna be busy with you, so I’ll let the guys know that my weekend is booked.”
You laughed, clapping your hands excitedly, “Yay! Oh, I can’t wait to see you. I feel like it’s been forever.”
“Because it has,” he waited for you to look back to your phone, “When was the last time you came back home to SanPa?”
You sighed, shaking your head, “God, like, six months maybe? Maybe a little more? Work has just been nuts, you know?”
“You think they’re gonna relocate you back closer to home any time soon?”
You shrugged, “Not sure. I hope so, though. I miss bugging you all the time in person not just by blowing up your phone.”
“Well, you’ll get to bug me in person all weekend. Text me your address and anything else I should know. I can probably come out Friday night if that works for you?”
You nodded, “Yea, that’s fine by me. You can crash here if you want but I gotta warn you, my place is wicked small.”
“I’m currently living in a trailer, Y/N,” he chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
“Alright,” your heart felt so much lighter knowing that he was going to be able to go with you—you hated going to these kinds of things by yourself, “I’ll text you all the details and stuff later this week.”
“Sounds good. Go back to making your gourmet ramen over there,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too, EZ,” you waved goodbye before hanging up the call. You let out a sigh of relief as you tucked your phone back into your pocket.
The week seemed to fly by. Any time that you felt yourself getting stressed, or overwhelmed, or homesick, you remembered that you were going to be able to spend the whole weekend with your best friend. It made the rest of your problems seem so insignificant. Every night you’d come home and you’d see your dress hanging against the door of your closet, begging to be worn. You’d smile and run your fingers along the fabric whenever you’d walk by it. Back when you were in high school and college, the two of you went to everything together. Each prom, award ceremony, induction ceremony, friends�� weddings, you name it, it was the two of you showing up together no matter what. You had your own unspoken language, knowing when the other was ready to tap out and call it a night. Sometimes to keep things interesting you’d try to sneak out unseen, other times one of you would come up with any excuse you could so that you could leave early without anyone giving you a hard time about it. It’d been a few years since either of you had an excuse to get dressed up together.
You were finishing cleaning up your apartment when you felt your phone going off in your pocket. You glanced down and smiled at the sigh of EZ’s name on the screen, “Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?”
“Yea. I think,” he chuckled, “I think I’m outside the right building? Everything looks the same here.”
You laughed as you walked over and peeked out your window. Sure enough, you saw him sitting, leaning against his bike, “I see you. I’ll be right down,” you hung up and made sure to close your closet door before heading downstairs to greet him.
You came barreling out the front door of your apartment building, tackling him in a hug. He laughed, sweeping you up off of your feet and swinging you around as he held you tight to him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to hold you for a few moments. It had been way too long since you last saw him in person.
“I’ve missed you,” you mumbled against his neck.
“I’ve missed you too.”
You finally let go, dropping your feet back to the ground. You helped EZ get his two bags and had him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You kept apologizing in advance for the fact that all you had was a studio, so there wasn’t going to be a lot of room, and there was no grand tour to give him. He smiled and shook his head, constantly telling you that he didn’t care.
You opened the door, dropping one of his bags next to the couch, “This is,” you chuckled, “my beautiful kingdom.”
EZ smiled as he looked around your apartment. It was a studio, so there wasn’t a whole lot of space, but it was all modern and renovated. He was impressed by how much you had managed to utilize the space. He also liked being able to see how you chose to decorate a space that was completely your own. The last time he got to visit you, you had been sharing an apartment with a roommate and the two of you had completely opposite tastes in décor. He liked the vibe you had created—a lot of bright, happy colors. He recognized some of the art on the walls as things you had commissioned your friends to make for you because you liked having things that were one-of-a-kind.
“This is a pretty great spot, Y/N.”
You smiled, “Thanks. It’s home for now,” you sighed, “I have no guest room to offer you, but the couch does pull out so you won’t be too crammed for the next couple nights.”
He chuckled, nodding, “I appreciate it.”
“You eat before you left?”
He nodded, “Yea I’m all set. Didn’t want to be taking any of your ramen from you.”
You gave him a playful slap to the arm, “So considerate.”
The two of you spent the night sitting on the couch together catching up, a show on the television just for background noise. It crept late into the night before the exhaustion started to show on EZ’s face. He had had a long day but he was enjoying the fact that he was actually face-to-face with you for the first time in months.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” you smiled as you stood up off the couch, “If you’re up for it in the morning there’s a really good coffee spot a few blocks from here.”
He smiled, nodding, “Sounds good.”
“Bathroom is right through there if you wanna change. I’ll see you in the morning,” you leaned in and gave him a hug that you dragged out to last a little longer than you usually would, “Goodnight.”
The morning and afternoon flew right by, and before you knew it the two of you were getting ready for the gala. You chastised EZ for leaving his dress clothes in his bags for so long. All these years and he still hadn’t figured out that they needed to hang to cut down on wrinkles. You ironed out his slacks and shirt, impressed by the fact that he had also brought a suit jacket. It was an all-black ensemble that you knew would make your coworkers drool over him, and you were going to soak up every second of that.
You left the bathroom open for him to get changed as you retreated to the semi-privacy of the space that passed for your bedroom. You shimmied into your dress, pulling the straps up onto your shoulders. You zipped it up as much as you could without risking ripping any of the stitching, thankful that you had EZ to help you with it the rest of the way. You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled, still loving the dress as much as you had the day you tried it on in the store.
You had settled on a deep burgundy dress. It was a little low-cut, but not so much that you felt overly exposed. It was floor length, and had a slit up to just below your hip that you could only see once you started walking. You had picked up some simple jewelry—a few gold bangles and a long necklace that draped down your chest. Deciding to pull the whole look together with your favorite pair of black heels. A little height boost when you were walking with EZ never hurt.
“Hey, EZ? Can you come finish zipping me up?”
You heard the sounds of his dress shoes on the hardwood. He poked his head around the half-wall that separated your bed from the rest of your apartment. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you. He cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts in order as he remembered the actual reason you had called him over.
You pulled your hair off to the side and turned so your back was to him, thankful that it gave the added benefit of hiding the giant grin on your face. He tried to be as gentle as possible, the rough pads of his fingers grazing lightly against your back as he pulled the zipper up the last of the way.
“You look amazing, Y/N,” he smiled at you.
“Yea, we clean up alright, don’t we?” you patted his chest, practically salivating over the sight of him in dress clothes for the first time in years. You reached and undid the top button of his shirt, allowing a little bit of his collarbone to be exposed.
“Feeling a little risqué tonight?” he chuckled.
“Who knows when we’re going to get to do this again?” you smiled, “Might as well make the most of it.”
“I was gonna offer to take you on the bike,” he laughed as he looked you up and down for the hundredth time in two minutes, “But I don’t think that dress would make it.”
You nodded, “You’re right. We’ll take my car,” you walked over and grabbed the small clutch that you had picked up just for this occasion, pulling your keys out of it, “You ready?”
“I think so,” he patted his pockets down to make sure that he still had his phone and wallet, “You gonna give me the dirt on all your coworkers on the ride over?”
“Of course,” you smiled as you ushered him out the door, locking it behind the two of you.
You parked the car at the venue and EZ all but leapt out of the car to come and open your door for you. You chuckled as he held his hand out to help you step out onto the pavement. He hadn’t even wanted you to be the one to drive there, but you insisted since he knew nothing about the area.
He gently wrapped his arm around your waist as the two of you walked into the venue. You knew that your coworkers weren’t expecting you to show up with a plus-one. You had been quite clear about the fact that you weren’t dating anyone, and that no one at your job interested you enough to break your, “I don’t date coworkers” rule. There were quite a few lax jaws as the two of you strolled into the event room. Anyone else might have been nervous, but EZ saw how much you loved it and he was eating up every second of it.
You brought him around and introduced him to everyone, reveling in the fact that his arm never left your waist. After a handful of introductions, you dragged him across the room to introduce you to your boss.
“Cynthia,” you smiled wide, “This is my friend Ezekiel. Ezekiel, this is my boss Cynthia.”
“Please, call me Cindy,” she held out her hand, eyes slowly raking over the man you had put in front of her, not that you could blame her, “It’s nice to meet you, Ezekiel. I have to admit, Y/N here is a bit of an enigma around the office,” she turned her attention to you, “You look amazing, by the way.”
You smiled, “Thank you, so do you. A little more than business casual, huh?”
She laughed, nodding, “That’s for sure,” she paused, “Also, don’t forget, it’s open bar. So help yourselves.”
You tapped your fingers together mischievously, “Ah, don’t mind if I do.”
“I’ll make sure to catch up with you two later,” she smiled at EZ, “It was nice to meet you, Ezekiel.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he nodded politely before she walked away, swept up in a sea of other conversations.
“Remind me to keep a close eye on you around her,” you laughed, “Don’t want her snatching you up.”
The night wore on, and you were impressed with how easily EZ blended into the crowd with everyone from work. He made his way through a lot of small talk, a lot of, “So how do you know Y/N?” and other questions of the sort. The whole night he couldn’t help but to keep looking over at you, making sure that he had physical contact with you in one way or another. You couldn’t pretend that you minded it.
By your fourth glass of wine EZ had managed to get your keys from you, promising that he would drive the both of you back to your apartment safely and responsibly. His largest obstacle of the evening was hiding your bidding number sign from you so you didn’t spend money that you didn’t have.
“You’re the one who told me,” he said quietly in your ear, trying to suppress a laugh, “that your financial contribution was the, and I quote, buttload of money you paid for our tickets here.”
You huffed, trying and failing to give him a displeased expression, “But I wanna feel like a fancy rich person, EZ.”
He smiled at you, resting his hand on your thigh, “You’re certainly dressed like one, Y/N, so for tonight that’ll have to be enough. And besides, I’m your personal chauffer, so it doesn’t get more fancy rich person than that.”
You smirked over at him, placing your hand on top of his and interlocking your fingers, “I’m really glad that you’re here.”
He squeezed your fingers lightly, “Yea, me too.”
The evening was beginning to wind down, and EZ could see it on your face that if he didn’t get you out soon, you were going to start causing trouble. It was fine when the two of you were out among people you didn’t know, but he didn’t think that he’d be a very good friend if he let you start drunkenly stirring the pot with your coworkers. He convinced you to start saying your goodbyes, his hand placed on the small of your back as the two of you maneuvered through the small crowds of people in the event space.
You were walking through the parking garage, your hand entwined with his as you swung your arms back and forth, “What a night!”
EZ chuckled, spinning you carefully so you didn’t fall over, but still got to enjoy the flow of your dress when you spun and moved, “I’m honored I got the invite.”
“You sure you’re good to drive?”
He laughed, nodding, “I’m sure. Not like you could take over for me anyway.”
He helped you into the passenger seat before going around and getting in, sliding the seat back so he could actually fit. He chuckled as he saw you out of the corner of his eye, peeling your shoes off before you even left the parking garage. The whole drive home you went on and on about how much your coworkers loved him, you could just tell. He smiled and nodded, letting one hand stray and come to rest on your thigh.
He parked outside your apartment building and you looked over at him with your biggest puppy-dog eyes, “Ezekiel, I don’t wanna put my shoes back on. Will you carry me upstairs?”
He laughed and nodded, “Yes, but only because tonight you’re a fancy rich lady.”
“You’re so good to me. I love you,” you smiled over at him.
He felt his heart beating harder inside his chest, “I love you too.”
He carried you bridal style up the stairs with such ease. You loved every moment of it. He held onto you as you unlocked the door, still wrapped up in his arms. You giggled into his neck as he kicked the door shut behind you and turned the deadbolt. He carried you to your bed, setting you down gently. You smiled up at him from your mattress, reaching out and taking his hand in your own.
“I’ve missed you so much, EZ.”
He traced his thumb over your knuckles, “Yea, I’ve missed you too.”
Before he could walk out to collapse on the couch you asked him, “Can you help me with my dress?”
He swallowed hard, nodding, “Yea, of course, whatever you need.”
You pulled your hair off to the side again so he could pull the zipper down. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that there was a slight trembling to his hands as he fumbled with the zipper, pulling it down slowly. He took a deep breath as he gently pushed the straps down off your shoulders. You hummed in approval as you leaned back against him, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. There were a few beats of silence before you felt him lightly press his lips against the bare skin of your shoulder, gently kissing the soft skin there.
Your breath caught in your throat and it took you a second to get the words out, “You could, um,” you were thankful that you weren’t facing him so he couldn’t see the nervousness on your face, “you could stay in my bed tonight…if you wanted. It’s probably…you know…more comfortable than the couch.”
His lips were still pressed against your shoulder and you could feel his laughter vibrate against your skin, “Yea? You sure?”
You turned around so you were facing him. He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. He was holding you close enough that you were certain that he could feel your heart palpitating, “Yea. I’m not ready to give up your company yet.”
He kissed your forehead, “Let’s get to bed then.”
274 notes · View notes
charmedbaek · 5 years ago
Text
loyal - bbh - part 1
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index | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 |... (ongoing)
summary: a year ago, you landed your dream job and made your move to the city. not knowing anyone, you moved into the spare room of coworker’s beautiful apartment, and quickly became close friends. her loyal social circle quickly adopted you as one of their own, giving you some of the best friends you’ve ever known. you have it all. there’s only one problem: Byun Baekhyun. not only your friend via your roommate, but her longtime crush. completely off-limits to you, as she’s made it very clear. but when love interferes with the life you worked so hard to build, who do you stay loyal to?
genre: smut, angst, fluff, MATURE/NSFW lmao
warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing, alcohol use
words: 10.3k (she’s long i’m not sorry)
author’s note(s): she’s finally here!! i’m so excited for you guys to finally read this, i’ve been going CRAZY ever since i posted the preview and got so much positive support, so thank you all!! feedback is much appreciated so please let me know what you think. and be sure to let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 2. i’m planning on making the series somewhere around 10 parts so i hope you all are excited for shit to go down :)
tag list: @baek-byunies @baekhugme @falsemagic @fullsuninbloom @gyuniiverse @jummyjammy @kylomeyon @lightmochi @littleflowercrown13 @making-me-blush @marks-aurora @myexolib��@smile2sushii4me​@stormymoonlight @yixing-jaebeom 
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“This is just pathetic.”
You looked up from browsing Twitter on your phone to see your roommate, Minji, staring at you disapprovingly from your doorway.
“What?” You asked innocently, setting your phone down beside your pillow and sitting up inside the fort of pillows you had created on your bed.
Minji sighed, entering the room and sitting at the edge of the bed next to you. “It’s Friday night. Are you really just going to lay here doing...” She waved her hand, gesturing towards your comfortable attire of an oversized hoodie and gym shorts. “...this? Again?”
You looked at her and scoffed. “What do you mean this? I’m fine. I’m comfortable.” You said, reaching over her lap to grab the bag of pretzels that seemed to live on your nightstand these days. Minji snatched the bag before you could get to it, tossing it to the floor with a groan. “I’d say you’re a little too comfortable,” She said, poking your bare thigh. “How long has it been since you came out with us? A month? Two? I don’t even know. The rest of the guys keep asking me where you’ve been, and I have to tell them you fell asleep on the couch after one glass of wine after work.”
“Shut up!” You exclaimed, grabbing one of your many pillows and smacking her with it playfully. She wasn’t wrong though. You’d had your job as an assistant editor for just over a year now, and it was draining. The assistant part of the title didn’t mean you were just grabbing coffee for the bosses, but rather doing all of the work that the senior editors at the magazine didn’t feel like doing. It was a lot of stress, and lately you hadn’t felt like doing much on the weekends besides sleeping until noon and taking a midday nap. 
And it was true, you hadn’t seen much of your friends recently. Well, technically they were Minji’s friends, but after a year you were finally comfortable referring to them as yours. You missed them a lot. But you felt too tired to be any fun.
You fell back against the pillows. “I’m just relaxing. I had a tough week.”
Minji raised her eyebrows at you. “Need a stress reliever?” She asked suggestively.
“Minji, before you even-”
“Come on!” She whined. “Just fuck him! Please! I know for a fact he likes you.”
The he in question was Minji’s friend Jongin. Yes, he was your friend too. Although it was evident to you, and everyone else, that he’d like to be more than that. His gentleman-like behavior towards you was a bit over the top, never letting you open your own door or pay for your own drink. The way he gently placed his hand on the small of your back while letting you walk in front of him was cordial, but it didn’t make you feel butterflies. The way he placed his hand on your knee, and never any higher, when you sat beside him was affectionate, but it didn’t get you... well, wet.
Sure, he was sexy. And kind. And tall. And honestly, drop-dead gorgeous. But that was the thing. He was too perfect. In the year you’d known him, you found it difficult to find a single area he was deficient in. It was unnerving. You just couldn’t bring yourself to want him like that.
Were you leading him on? You didn’t think so. But you were never one to pass on a free drink.
It would be a lie, however to say you’d never had a one-off fantasy about Jongin. After all, he was incredibly hot. You almost hoped he would just try his luck and kiss you one of these days, but his courteous demeanor would never allow him to be so bold with a woman. 
And though nothing close to fucking had ever happened between you two, the rest of your friend group seemed to assume you were meant to be together.
The group consisted of five before you came along. They had all known each other since high school, so it seemed like fate when you arrived, making an even group of three guys and three girls. They had laughed about how they were finally like Friends the TV show, all paired off into even male-female pairings.
The most solid couple was Chanyeol and his girlfriend Soonja. They had been high school sweethearts, and were very affectionate towards each other. Like, very affectionate. Always all over each other, even after ten years of being together. It was kind of gross at first. But you got used to it.
Next, was Jongin. He occasionally brought a random, boring girl to your hangouts, but things never lasted. And everyone seemed to have it in their minds that the two of you would make the perfect couple. In their minds, you were already together, making another seemingly perfect dyad to fit in with them.
Lastly, there was your roommate Minji. You had met at your job and quickly became close with one another. She was the one to indoctrinate you into the group, and for that you were eternally grateful. You had moved to the city alone with nothing besides your belongings for your job, and she had taken you under her wing.
Her pairing was the most interesting. Though she was technically single, there was-
“Baekhyun!”
Yeah, Baekhyun.
“Baekhyun!” Minji shouted again. “Come in here!”
You heard Baekhyun sigh from where he sat on the couch in your living room, slowly making his way to where Minji and you sat in your bedroom.
“What do you want?” He asked, peeking his head through the entrance.
Minji stood with a huff, walking to the door to grab Baekhyun’s wrist and pull him into the room. “Tell Y/N that she should just fuck Jongin. We all know it’s gonna happen eventually.” She said.
“Oh no,” Baekhyun said with a chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m not getting involved in this.”
“Please!” Minji exclaimed. “She said she’s stressed from work. I told her fucking him will get her mind off of it.”
“How? By dry humping on his bed? Him feeling her boobs over the bra?” Baekhyun made himself laugh. “How about when he asks ‘Is that okay?’ before doing literally anything?” Baekhyun was laughing hard now, wiping a tear from his eyes. “No, I don’t think that’ll solve anything.”
You laughed with him at the thought. Jongin was overly polite. Any sex fantasy you’d ever had about him was always ruined by thoughts similar to those Baekhyun had described.
Minji was not as impressed. “You’re no help!” She shouted at him, shoving him back outside the room and slamming the door.  She returned to your bedside with a sigh. “Please just consider getting laid, Y/N.”
“Hm...” You thought out loud, tapping a finger on your chin. “Baekhyun’s pretty funny. Maybe I’ll just sleep with him.”
“Ha!” Minji squawked as she slapped you on the arm. Hard. “You wouldn’t dare.” She said with a glare, only half joking.
And that was the final pairing. Minji and Baekhyun. No, they were not together. They never had been. Minji had had a crush on him since college, when she said he “got sexy”. They were close friends, and she was pretty much in love with him.
Whatever you wanted to call their relationship, Minji was overly protective of it. The very first time you had hung out with the group, she pulled you aside to explain to you that no, they were not dating yet, but he was hers. She joked that she would kill you if you touched him.
And if she hadn’t warned you, you might have tried. Baekhyun was extremely sexy. When you met him, his hair was the white-blonde that you loved the most on him. You were intoxicated by your first thoughts of him, that his plump lips would be incredible to kiss. That his long, slender fingers would feel amazing inside of you...
But it wasn’t just that. He had a bright smile that always lit up any room, and a fun, chaotic energy that could always make you laugh. You were smitten by him. Plus, the two of you had always had a great time together. You’d pretty much hit it off right away as friends, constantly texting about work, complaining about how annoying Chanyeol and Soonja were. 
It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to hang out alone, either. You both loved art, and he’d taken you to a few gallery openings that he organized for his job. You often dragged him to the theatre to see foreign films that would bore the rest of your friends to sleep. Whenever you wanted opinions on your projects for work, Baekhyun would meet you at your favorite coffee shop to help. Out of any of your friends, even Minji, he was the one who was always there for you.
But whatever your outings with Baekhyun were, they were not dates. 
No, that would never be allowed.
It had been a year since Minji’s initial warning, which you had respected completely despite your attraction. From her description at the time, you had assumed they’d get together at some point, but it hadn’t happened. And you were pretty sure it wasn’t going to, so you didn’t feel bad hanging out with him.
That was, until a few weeks ago when Minji made you make a promise to her. She begged you to give her more alone time with Baekhyun. She asked you to stay in your room whenever he came over, worried that you might be scaring him from making a move on her. She asked you to stop spending so much time with him alone, because it was distracting him from the time she thought he owed her.
Sure, your feelings were hurt. But Minji was the reason you had these incredible friends and this beautiful apartment, so you didn’t argue. You were loyal to her. Even if you were sure she was imagining her entire relationship with Baekhyun.
But your perception of their relationship and your initial feelings towards Baekhyun didn’t matter. She was his. That was that.
You smiled through your teeth at Minji. “I would never. You know that.”
“I know,” She smiled back, patting you on the shoulder. “But I am being serious. You’ll feel better if you have sex.”
You sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not in the mood for being disappointed.”
“Trust me, I get it.” Minji giggled. “At least come out with us tonight? Please?” Minji pleaded, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.
You let out a final sigh as you gave in. “Fine. Sure. Okay.”
“Awesome!” Minji cheered. “I’ll pick something out for you to wear. Be ready to go in thirty.”
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You exited your room wearing the dress Minji had picked for you, heels in hand as you shut the door behind you. With a huff, you sat yourself down on the couch next to Baekhyun to strap the shoes on. 
He looked up at you from his phone and stared. “What are you wearing?” He asked as he set his phone down on the coffee table.
“What are you, my dad?” You scoffed, looking up at him from your shoes.
Baekhyun chuckled. “No, no, I’m serious. Is that, like... lingerie?” He asked carefully, eyeing your figure while clearly trying not to stare too long at any one spot.
“The dress?” You asked, looking down at Minji’s selection. It was a black slip dress, short and decently low-cut, trimmed with lace. “It’s just a dress,” You shrugged. “Though I’m sure it’s some part of Minji’s plan for me to go home with someone.”
Baekhyun laughed again, turning his attention toward his phone. “Well, it just might work.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Jongin will love it.” You mumbled as you finished buckling the strap on your heel.
Before you could lament on that inevitable situation any longer, Minji burst through her bedroom door. “I’m here, I’m here. Let’s go.”
“I got us an Uber,” Baekhyun said as he stood from the couch. He turned to offer you a hand, which you accepted as you stood up on your wobbly heels. Minji was right, it had been a while since you’d been out, and your feet weren’t used to this abuse.
“You alright? Drunk already?” Baekhyun asked with a raised eyebrow as you stumbled a bit.
You squeezed the hand he had offered as you caught your balance. “Not yet, hopefully soon.” You laughed, not looking forward to the way your feet would feel at the end of the night.
“Come on, Baek.” Minji chirped as she grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards the door and his hand out of your grip. She opened the door, leading him out and into the hallway of your apartment building. 
They continued down the hallway, her hand still latched onto his forearm. You sighed as you followed them through the doorway, fishing in your purse for your keys. Stopping to turn your key in the lock, you watched the pair turn the corner towards the elevators, catching a glimpse of Baekhyun looking back at you. You sighed. It wasn’t completely unlike Minji to disregard your existence when she was with Baekhyun. It was understandable, given her situation, but it was still annoying.
You rushed to catch the elevator with them, wincing as your heels pinched your toes with every step. You slipped in just before the doors closed, catching your breath as you clutched the railing. Minji and Baekhyun barely seemed to notice your struggle, as she was still clinging onto him and had begun explaining her latest business card design in lengthy detail.
You reached the ground floor and exited outside, finding your Uber on the crowded city street. Graciously, you got into the front passenger seat, allowing Minji and Baekhyun to be together in the back. You figured this was probably one of the times she would want you to give them space, to do whatever the fuck it was she thought they did.
You and the driver rode in silence, while Minji continued to chime about design and color theory to a quiet Baekhyun. In the rearview mirror, you watched her leaning on his shoulder and running a finger through his dark, wavy hair.
You glowered into the mirror as you stared at her fingers twirling his locks. It made your blood boil. You shifted in your seat to see a different angle from the mirror, only to lock eyes with Baekhyun.
You quickly looked away, embarrassed, choosing to stare out of the window for the duration of your ride.
When you arrived at the bar, you quickly exited the vehicle and rushed towards the building, not waiting for your friends in the car. You pushed open the front doors and looked for your friends. Quickly, you spotted Chanyeol towering over Soonja in the corner booth with his arm around her. You huffed as you sat, muttering a quick hello and sliding in next to Chanyeol.
He eyed you as he took a sip of his drink. "Did you come by yourself?” He asked as he set his glass down.
“No, Minji and Baekhyun should be walking in.” You answered under your breath, staring aimlessly at the crowd of twenty-somethings mingling loudly around you.
Soonja looked at you with concern. “What’s wrong?” She asked, reaching over Chanyeol to rest a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged in response, but she pressed. “Seriously, Y/N, what is it?”
You sighed. “They’re just being annoying. Minji can’t keep her hands off of Baekhyun, and they ignored me the whole way here, and it’s just...” You trailed off.
“Does that bother you?” Chanyeol asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
You snapped to look at him. “No. I just don’t like being treated like I’m invisible.”
Before Chanyeol could ask any more questions, Jongin walked over from the bar, a drink in each hand. With a smile, he set one down in front you and slid into the booth beside you. “Gin and tonic with two limes, right?”
You gave him a small smile. “Yeah, thanks.”
He smiled brighter. “No problem.” As he put his arm around your shoulders, Minji and Baekhyun finally made their way over. Minji looked at you as she sat. “Why’d you run ahead?” She asked, clearly a little annoyed.
You raised your glass from the table. “Thirsty.” You said dryly, bringing your drink to your mouth and taking a large sip. You could tell you were going to need a few more gin and tonics to make it through the evening.
From that point, things proceeded as your nights out normally did. Soonja found her way onto Chanyeol’s lap, her lips close to his ear. The two didn’t pay much attention to anyone else, as per usual. Baekhyun made a few trips to the bar to order a drink, Minji following him each time. You chuckled each time Baekhyun returned to the booth with one drink, leaving Minji alone up there to buy her own. You chatted politely with Jongin about work, not paying much attention since you were busy watching Minji make a fool of herself.
A while passed as a few more drinks passed your lips, and you found your eyelids getting heavier and heavier as you leaned further and further into Jongin’s side. He was warm, but then again so were you from the amount of alcohol you had consumed.
“Want another?” Jongin asked, already getting up to go back to the bar.
You laughed a little. “Jongin, you know I can buy my own drinks, right? I have a job. It’s all I talk about, actually.”
He shrugged, not too concerned with your response. “Yeah, I know. I’m just trying to...”
“I know, I know, trying to be nice.” You rolled your eyes and gave him another small smile. “Let me get my own for once, please.”
Leaning forward to hop over Jongin and out of the booth, you noticed Baekhyun at the bar alone waiting for a bartender. Minji was nowhere in sight, and you took the opportunity to join him. She wasn’t there to stop you, and what harm could it do to just chat with him?
Shoving aside the drunken college students to his right, you rested your elbows on the bar and looked up at Baekhyun. “Hey, Baek.”
He turned to face you, flashing you his signature bright smile. God, you loved his smile. Especially when you were drunk. “Hey, what’s up?”
Your smile grew as you stared at him, leaning further onto the bar. “Drunk. Getting drunk.” You slurred, peering up at him through your eyelashes.
“Oh, yeah?” He laughed, putting a hand on your shoulder to keep you from completely falling flat onto the sticky wooden surface. “What are you drinking?”
“Please don’t,” You whined. “I just gave Jongin a speech about how I can buy my own drinks.”
Baekhyun shrugged and let out another laugh. “Suit yourself.” He said as the bartender delivered his drink. He grabbed it and took a sip of the dark liquid, tilting his head back to reveal his neck as he drank. You stared a bit longer than necessary. 
His neck was just so... pretty. You suddenly found yourself wondering what it would be like to leave a mark on it.
But before you could fantasize any further, he brought his drink down and turned away, heading back for the bar. You sank further onto your elbows and let out a long sigh, ordering another gin and tonic. Somehow, you felt like Minji could sense your dirty thoughts about Baekhyun. You felt guilty. You respected her wishes, but sometimes you just couldn’t help thinking about him, especially when he looked like... that. His white t-shirt and oversized denim jacket hanging effortlessly over his lean frame. The way his recently-dyed dark hair fell over his forehead in soft waves. It was a lot for your drunk self to take in.
Vowing to stop your thoughts before Minji read your mind, you suddenly felt a hand on the center of your back, just where the lace of your dress met your skin. You turned, ready to tell Jongin once again that you were capable of paying for one drink, but you were met by Baekhyun’s wide brown eyes. 
“Can I ask you something?” He asked, scanning your face with a bit of concern.
He seemed nervous, and it put you on edge. “Yeah, of course.” You replied a bit shakily.
Baekhyun suddenly leaned in close to you, his lips nearly touching your ears. You knew it was just so you could hear him over the noisy bar-goers and blaring music, but him being this close to you made your heart race.
“Do you... like me?” He asked softly before leaning back to search your face for an answer.
You gulped, feeling like you’d been caught, like he’d heard your thoughts about him moments ago.
He shook his head before you could answer, letting out a weak laugh. “No, I mean, like... we’re friends, right? You think I’m a good friend?”
You sighed a little in relief, taking a sip of your drink that had just been delivered. “Of course, Baekhyun, yeah. You’ve been a great friend.”
“Okay good.” He smiled. “Because I just felt like... I don’t know. Like you were avoiding me or something. When you ran out of the car. I feel like I never get to see you anymore.” He finished, his smile fading a bit as he finished his explanation. “I miss hanging out with you.”
You bit your lip, not wanting to reveal the promise you had made to Minji, or the fact that her being all over him had irked you earlier. “Baek, I swear I’m not avoiding you. It’s just, you know... Minji-”
“Hey!”
As if your words summoned her, Minji poked her head between you and Baekhyun, ending your conversation as she grabbed his bicep. “Can we dance Baekhyun? You promised me we’d dance.”
It wasn’t much of a question, as she was already pulling him away from the bar. Baekhyun gave you a sad smile as he was dragged away, and you sighed for about the thousandth time that evening. You watched Minji turn so her back was pressed against him, grinding a bit sloppily onto him. Baekhyun seemed apathetic, more focused on taking another sip of his drink than on Minji’s hands on him. 
You lifted your drink once more, downing it before slamming it back onto the wood, having seen enough. You walked past your booth, ignoring Jongin’s expectant stare, and headed towards the bathrooms in a dark corner towards the back of the bar. Pushing past a few younger couples making out next to the door, you entered and leaned heavily on a sink.
You looked up to inspect yourself in the mirror. You could tell you were drunk by the way you swayed back and forth as you tried to focus. Your hair was a bit disheveled from resting your head on Jongin’s shoulder all night. Not being bothered to fix it, you wiped at the small amount of mascara that had rubbed off under your eyes.
Maybe Minji was right, you thought to yourself. Maybe you should just give in and fuck Jongin. You knew he’d agree if you went back out there and asked him to come home with you, especially given your sexy, unkempt state. Even if it wasn’t the best fuck of your life, it would probably help distract you from your outlawed thoughts about Baekhyun. You decided to consider that option after one more drink.
Giving your messed up hair one more quick tousle, you turned to go back to the booth. But when you opened the door, you were met by Baekhyun’s intense stare.
“Baek-”
Before you could finish the word, Baekhyun was grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards a nearby empty corner.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You whispered harshly, wriggling the hand still in his grip. “That hurts.”
Baekhyun quickly let go and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’m sorry,” he said as he shook his head, looking up from his feet to meet your gaze. “I just wanted you to finish what you were saying before. About Minji.”
“Baekhyun...” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?” He asked, though from the look on his face he appeared to know what was coming.
You peered over his shoulder to look for any of your friends watching, but the entire booth was blocked from your view by another wall. You spoke once you were sure they couldn’t see you. “Minji likes you. A lot. Sometimes I think it’s better if I just stay out of her way.”
“You think that?” He raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer. “Or she thinks that?”
“I...” You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, considering your words carefully. “Sometimes it’s easier to just do what she wants, right? I mean, you do it too. She can be kind of controlling, especially when it comes to you.”
Baekhyun scoffed, taking a step back and removing his hands from his pockets. “You think I do whatever Minji wants?” He asked bitterly.
“Not everything, but I mean-”
Baekhyun’s lips were pressed against yours before you could finish your sentence. The kiss was forceful, his eyes closing as he took your cheek into his hand. 
Your mind was racing. You knew you were kissing him back, feeling your own lips moving gently against his, but it didn’t feel real. You were floating, the alcohol in your veins simultaneously lifting you off the ground and pulling you towards the floor.
He pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on your face. You were both breathing deeply, clearly out of breath from the moment. His lips were nearly still on yours when he asked, “Do you think she would have wanted me to do that?”
“No.” You laughed breathlessly into his mouth, looking up to meet his eyes.
He was looking at you intensely, his brown eyes sparkling in the neon bar lights. “Because I wanted to. And I’ve wanted to for a long time.” He said as he rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek. “What about you? Did you want to?”
“Yes.” You said softly, not being capable of much more than one word answers at the moment.
Baekhyun smiled. “Good. Then let’s do what we want.”
And with that, his lips were back on yours, just as intense as the first time. And this time, you were sure you were kissing back, and with just as much force as he was. 
Feeling Baekhyun’s tongue press against your lips, you parted your mouth to grant him access inside. The kiss deepened, and you felt your arms reach up to rest on his shoulders, your hands threading themselves through his soft hair, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp. The action earned a moan from Baekhyun, and he used his entire body to press you against the wall, his hands pressing flat against it on either side of your head. You whimpered, feeling his hips grinding into yours.
Kissing Baekhyun was just as intoxicating as you had imagined it would be, his lips just as soft as in the dreams you hoped Minji never found out about. He was taking you without asking for permission, because he knew you wanted him, too. And you didn’t need anyone else’s permission.
Except, maybe you did.
“Wait!” You broke the kiss to exclaim. You pulled back sharply, smacking your skull against the exposed brick. “Ow.” You reached up to rub the back of your head.
“You okay?” Baekhyun chuckled, replacing your hand with his as a rubbed slow circles on your minor injury. The feeling sent chills straight through you.
“Baekhyun...” You trailed off softly. “You know we can’t. It’s not right.”
“Says who? Minji?” Baekhyun questioned.
“Well, yeah.” You answered.
Suddenly, Baekhyun pulled his hand away from your head and took a step back, exhaling deeply. “God, I am so sick of her controlling everything I do. She thinks she owns me.” He said, beginning to raise his voice. “Everywhere I go she needs to know. Anyone I hang out with she needs to check out. Do you know how hard it is to meet girls, let alone have sex when I have Minji up my ass like that?”
You sighed. “She just really likes you, Baek. She’s being overprotective.”
“Yeah, and it’s ruining my life.” Baekhyun put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, Y/N?”
You shook your head. You honestly had no idea he wanted to kiss you outside of your dreams.
Baekhyun laughed dryly. “A long time. Basically since we met. But Minji made it seem-”
“Seem like what?” You interrupted.
He opened his eyes to look at you again, sighing. “She made it seem like you didn’t want me around lately. Said you’d rather hang out alone in your room than come talk to me. I even tried to tell her one time that I thought you were hot, and she completely shut me down, saying you’d never be interested in me, saying that Jongin would kill me if I tried anything with you.”
You stared up at him, bewildered. “She said all that?” You asked softly, voice laced with disbelief. Baekhyun nodded.
“No, none of that is true,” You clenched your fists, the anger running through your veins boiling. “She told me the first time I met you to stay away from you, because you were hers. And I wanted to respect that.”
You took a deep breath and continued. “But you and I are friends, too. And I like spending time with you. But lately, she asked me to give you guys time alone, which I tried to do.” You felt tears stinging in your eyes at Minji’s betrayal. “It makes sense, I mean, to try to keep me out of the way after you told her that.”
You waited for a long pause before you started again. “Look, I like you. Like, really like you. And I always have. But Minji-”
Baekhyun didn’t let you finish, returning his plump lips to yours to sweep them up in another kiss. This one was softer, more gentle, and he moved his lips across your cheek and against your ear. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” He whispered, lips brushing against your skin. “She doesn’t matter. We can just focus on us now. Okay?”
“Yes,” You breathed out softly. “I want to.”
Baekhyun smiled against you. “Good. Because I’ve been waiting for a long time to do this.”
He kissed his way downwards from your ear as you lifted your arms to wrap around his back. Gripping onto the denim of his jacket, you let out a small moan as he pressed his teeth into the delicate skin just below your jaw. And again, when he bit into the soft skin at the base of your neck.
Tilting your head forward to rest in the crook of his neck, you used your leverage on his back to pull his hips to meet yours once again. This time, it was you who grinded up into him, feeling the prominent bulge against you growing through the fabric.
“Shit,” Baekhyun whispered into your neck. “How are you so hot?”
You giggled, continuing the action as Baekhyun’s hands drifted downwards, exploring your curves through the silk of your black dress. They finally reached the bottom, and he rubbed his thumbs where the lace trim met the skin of your thigh. You sighed deeply at the repetitive action, as Baekhyun pulled his head away from your neck. He slipped his hand underneath the lace and lifted, looking to your face for a reaction.
All you could do was lean your head back against the bricks, anticipating the pleasure that was coming.
And Baekhyun didn’t disappoint. He slowly dragged his fingers from the spot on your thigh to where your lace underwear rested on your hip bone. Sneaking his fingers under the fabric, he pulled it back and released, letting it snap back against your skin. You moaned at the sensation. “You like that?” Baekhyun hummed into your ear. You nodded, feeling the wetness at your core getting more intense. “Kinda kinky,” He hummed to you again. 
You giggled softly. “Trust me, that’s just the beginning.” You whispered back.
Baekhyun’s eyebrows raised, his eyes wide as he looked back at you. “I’ll remember that for later.” He said darkly, turning his attention back to his fingers. He traced the bottom lining of the fabric, slowly going from your hip right to your center. You hummed at the feeling of his fingers so close to your most sensitive area, as he drew small circles with his fingertips over the fabric.
“You want me to touch you?” He asked, voice dripping with his sinful intentions.
You nodded as you hummed again, bucking your hips slightly into his touch.
“Then I want you to say it.”
Your eyes widened as his words sent another wave of arousal straight to your core.
You took a shaky breath. “I want you to touch me, Baekhyun.”
You’d barely finished the last syllable of his name when he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, pushing it to the side. He cupped your entire heat in his palm, the hard flat of his hand pushing against your clit. “Already so wet,” He whispered before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. You groaned, pressing into his hand to increase the pressure.
He slowly curled and uncurled his fingers, running them softly back and forth over your wet, sensitive skin. You gasped when you felt the tip of his middle finger nudge against your folds.
“Baekhyun.” You sighed, reaching down to grab his forearm. 
He looked up at you with concern. “Everything okay?”
You nodded. “More than. But we probably shouldn’t do this here.” You looked around, noticing the thinning crowd of the bar that left you more exposed than when you began.
“Okay,” He said, removing his hand from under your dress. “Let’s go, then.”
“Wait, wait!” You whispered, grabbing his elbow as he turned to go. “We can’t leave together. Because of... you know. Her.” 
Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “Fine, you’re right. I’ll leave first. I’ll wait for you at the end of the block on the right.”
You nodded, and he gave you a soft kiss on the tip of your nose before turning to return to the booth of your friends.
Standing at the edge of the wall, you listened in when he said he was taking off.
“But Baek,” You heard Minji pout. “You came here with me, you can’t just leave without me.”
You heard Baekhyun sigh. “I’m going to my home. You’re going to your home. It’s fine.” Minji didn’t complain again after his short response to her, but you could feel her fuming through the wall.
Baekhyun said his goodbyes to Jongin, Chanyeol, and Soonja, and you heard his footsteps lead out the door.
You waited for a few minutes behind the wall, not wanting to make it too obvious that Baekhyun had just had his tongue down your throat only moments before. And he certainly had. And you had certainly kissed him back. And more.
Holy shit. 
The one man you were supposed to keep your hands off of, and you couldn’t resist. You didn’t even try to resist. Maybe it was the liquor, but you had completely melted under his touch. 
You could still feel his fingers on you, and suddenly you needed more. Every late-night sex dream you had compartmentalized and tried to forget for Minji’s sake came flooding back to you, and you wanted him. Bad.
Quickly coming up with an alibi, you turned the corner and faced your friends once again. “Hey, I think I’m gonna head out.” You turned to face Minji directly. “You know Chaeyoung, from work? She just messaged me and said she had a big fight with her boyfriend, and asked if I would come over.” You lied through your teeth.
“Oh, okay.” Minji answered softly, apparently still a bit bruised from Baekhyun’s words. “I’ll see you in the morning then, yeah?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Goodnight guys!”
Jongin stood. “Let me walk you out, Y/N.”
“No!” You shouted, a bit more forcefully, and suspiciously, than you meant. You bit your lip, lowering your voice back to a reasonable volume. “No, no, I’m fine. Thank you though.”
Before he could protest, you grabbed your purse from the table and rushed out the door and into the cold evening air.
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As he said he would be, Baekhyun waited for you at the corner, hands shoved in his pockets, his breath visible in the air. When he spotted you approaching, he was grinning from ear to ear. Wordlessly, you began walking together step by step around the corner. Neither of you needed to speak to know you were heading for Baekhyun’s high rise apartment building. It was only a few blocks away, quick enough to walk. And there was no chance in hell you’d risk taking him back to yours and Minji’s place.
The cold air was sobering you on the walk, but it didn’t change your mind about what you were on your way to do. If anything, you felt more sure of yourself, taking long, purposeful strides to keep up with Baekhyun.
You only stopped once on your way, when you passed your favorite corner coffee shop. They were closed, but you stared inside at the counter and chairs flipped upside down. “I miss this place.” You stated. You hadn’t been in a few months when you came with Baekhyun, since before Minji’s request was made. 
The darkness in the shop allowed you to see your reflection peering in, and Baekhyun’s figure next to you. You looked from his face back to yours in the reflection, and it dawned on you that this was really happening. You were here, with him, and only him. He caught your eye in the reflection and smiled. “Tomorrow?” He suggested. You nodded, and quickly went on your way to finish the walk.
Not long after, you made it to the building, Baekhyun buzzing you in through the main entrance with his key. The two of you politely walked past the nighttime security guard, giving him a small nod and continuing towards the elevators.
Once the elevator doors closed behind you, you picked up where you had left off.
Pressing your back against the wall, Baekhyun enveloped your lips in another powerful kiss, biting into your lower lip and pulling away slightly. Now that he knew you liked a little pain, there was no way he was going to be easy on you. Though you winced a bit at the feeling, you rested your hands on his shoulders and pulled him back against you, slipping your tongue inside his mouth.
You didn’t let go of each other when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Hands and lips on one another, you moved out and into the hallway, making your way towards Baekhyun’s door. He took one hand off your waist to fumble in his pocket for his keys, never breaking contact on your mouth. Eyes closed in bliss and one hand still on you, he slipped the key in the lock and turned, opening the door to bring the two of you inside.
Finally.
The door was slammed shut behind you, and you found yourself once again with your back against the hard surface. What was in front of you was nearly just as hard, Baekhyun’s erection back with a vengeance and pressing against you as he moved hip lips to your neck and began sucking.
Everything about this moment felt amazing, apart from your feet. As you predicted, these heels were killer, and you wanted nothing more than to get them off. “Ow,” You whispered mindlessly as you struggled to kick the shoes off.
Baekhyun pulled back to look at you. “What?” He asked, eyes wide.
You laughed. “It’s my feet, these shoes. They’re killing me.”
Baekhyun grinned. “I’ll take care of it.”
Suddenly, his hands were gripping the underside of your ass, lifting you up off the ground as he returned his lips onto yours. He pressed his chest against yours, pushing you harder against the door for leverage as he removed your shoes one hand at a time, throwing them aimlessly into the living room behind him.
“Thanks,” You laughed breathily onto his lips, wrapping both of your legs around his back and pulling him closer.
Once both of his hands were again focused on holding you up, he moved you from against the door and carried you past the kitchen, down the hallway towards his bedroom. He closed the door once you were in the room, before gently letting you down to sit at the bottom edge of his bed.
You looked up at him from where you sat, watching him shrug his jacket off and toss it aside. Next off was his shirt, revealing his lean body as he lifted it. You licked your lips at the sight, taking his actions as your cue to remove what little clothing you had on as well.
But just as you start to lift the fabric of your dress, Baekhyun’s hands were on yours, stopping you. “No. Leave it on, please?” He asked, his puppy dog eyes begging you.
“Why?” You looked up at him quizzically.
Baekhyun responded with a shit-eating grin. “I told you it was gonna get you laid, didn’t I?”
You snorted, recalling what he’d said to you before you went out for the evening. “I guess you were right.”
Removing your hands from the fabric of your dress, you placed them on Baekhyun’s backside and pulled him closer to you. Standing in front of you, his toned stomach was at your eye level, and your eyes lowered as your hands flew to his belt to undo it. It was quickly off and tossed to the side with the rest of his items, your hands already working to undo the button of his jeans.
Baekhyun chuckled. “You seem pretty eager, huh?”
“I guess I wanted this just as bad as you do.” You retorted, glancing up at him with a smirk.
Returning your attention to what was in front of you, you shoved his jeans and boxers down below his hips in one go. As they fell to the floor and he stepped out of them and kicked them behind him, you couldn’t help but stare as his dick slapped against his stomach. Given his smaller, lean frame, you were shocked at how thick he was, and the thought of him stretching you out made your mouth water.
You must have stared a bit too long, because Baekhyun let out a playful, impatient sigh.
“Are you gonna do something, or wha-Oh,”
Before he could finish the word, your hand was wrapped around his base, lips around his tip. Your tongue danced over his slit, tasting the salty precum that had already seeped out. “Oh, wow,” Baekhyun groaned softly, his fingers wandering through the hair on the back of your head.
Finding work for your free hand, you gently cupped his balls, gently dragging your fingertips back and forth along the underside. Baekhyun cursed under his breath, his head rolling backwards and eyes pressed shut.
Pleased with your work, you started moving your head to take more of him into your mouth, one hand still wrapping firmly around his base. You bobbed back and forth, humming occasionally as you did so, reveling each time Baekhyun softly repeated your name.
“You’re pretty good at this, huh,” He said breathlessly, head still tilted back in bliss. You hummed again at the praise, taking his balls in your hand once again as you gave him a squeeze.
He groaned loudly at the action, hips bucking forward harshly as his cock plunged further into your mouth and slammed into the back of your throat. It took you by surprise, coughing around him as you pushed him away by his thighs and leaned back.
“Oh god, shit, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun apologized profusely, hands moving from your hair to hold your face. You laughed, still out of breath as you looked up at him. “It’s okay,” You answered, wiping the spit off your chin as you quickly brought him past your lips once again. His hands returned to the back of your head, gently caressing the nape of your neck.
You knew he wouldn’t try to push you to go further, but you wanted to feel the sensation once again. You wanted to choke around him.
Placing your palms flat on his ass, you slowly pushed him further and further, getting ready for the gag reflex that you knew was coming.
“Are you sure you want to...” He started, but cut himself off with a sinful moan as your throat started to constrict around his tip.
You held him there for a moment longer, as long as you could take it, before pulling your head back slowly until only your lips remained on the swollen pink head. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you began to repeat the sequence, slowly bringing him inside further and further until he completely blocked your airway. “Fuck,” He moaned again as you held him there.
Once more, you pulled back slowly, but this time he slipped out of your mouth as he gently pulled your head back.
“Was it good?” You asked breathlessly, your chest heaving from your effort.
“Yeah, it was good,” Baekhyun also breathed heavily. “More than good, actually. I was about to cum down your throat.”
You laughed as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” You asked playfully.
“Absolutely not,” He growled, his sultry, low voice reminding you just how wet and desperate for his touch you were.
As if reading your mind, he raced to lower himself onto you on the bed, kissing you deeply as he moved you both further up towards the headboard. The kiss was sloppy and needy, and you moaned into his lips and you fisted his hair with one hand.
Breaking from your lips, Baekhyun pushed himself up over you. Gently, he rested his hands on your thighs and pulled your legs apart from one another. He settled himself on his knees between them, which prevented you from closing your legs. You smiled softly as his eyes hungrily raked over every inch of your body, licking his lips hungrily. “You’re so perfect.” He murmured, bringing his eyes back to meet your gaze. 
“Stop.” You blushed and looked away, embarrassed by the compliment. Quickly, Baekhyun’s hand was on your chin, turn you back to peer up at him.
“No, I mean it.” He said forcefully, his eyes wide. Your small smile grew into a bigger one. He smiled in return. “And I want to see your pretty face when you cum.”
Leaving you with his lustful comment, he returned his attention to the bottom edge of your slip. Pushing it upwards over your hips, he revealed the black lace fabric you had covering you underneath. “You know, I think black suits you best, like the dress.” Baekhyun smirked, his hands ghosting over your wetness through the fabric, “Too bad we have to take them off.” He said, slipping his fingers underneath and pulling the underwear down and off your legs.
He leaned back down so his pretty face was only inches from yours. His hand rested on your stomach just above your most sensitive area, drawing slow circles. “Now, remind me again what it was you wanted me to do earlier?” He asked, feigning ignorance.
You rolled your eyes, anxious for him to give you what you needed. “Baekhyun, just touch me.”
“Like this?” He asked, bring his palm to rest flat over your folds, the heel of his hand putting an immense amount of pressure on your clit just as he did at the bar. He rubbed his fingertips over your skin gently, picking up the wetness that had been building since he first kissed you.
You moaned softly at the feeling of him rubbing you like that, bucking your hips upwards to increase the pressure. But as you did so, Baekhyun’s free hand came down forcefully onto your hip, pressing it into the mattress so you couldn’t lift yourself off it again.
His hand on your pussy remained stationary as you whined, desperate for him to move. “Baekhyun, please,” You begged pitifully. But instead of moving his hand, he just stared at your face with a smirk as your eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.
Eager to mimic his words from earlier, you breathlessly spit out, “Are you gonna do something, or wha-”
And just as you had before, he cut you off before you could finish the word, plunging two fingers past your folds and into your core, a loud gasp escaping your lips at the sensation of him deep inside of you. Not even your fantasies of his long, perfect fingers inside of you could prepare you for how far inside you they reached.
You let out another whiny moan as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you, his face still close to yours as he breathed in the sinful sounds you were making. “You can be as loud as you want, baby,” He sighed into you. “It’s just us, remember?”
As those words came out of his mouth, he curled his fingers upwards inside of you, hitting the spot that made you moan out his name.
He pumped in and out a few more times, increasing his speed. “Come on, I know you can do better.” He taunted, curling his fingers once again with more force. The feeling had you seeing stars, eye rolling back as you nearly screamed his name.
“That’s better.” Baekhyun sighed.
His hand that had been pushing your hip down was suddenly on your clit, rubbing fast circles as he other hand increased speed inside of you. 
“Shit, Baekhyun, oh my god,” You moaned, feeling every muscle in your body tensing in sequence as the pleasure built. You knew you wouldn’t last long with both of his hands working against you like this, and you screwed your eyes shut in anticipation of your climax.
Just before you tipped over the edge, Baekhyun removed both hands from you with a smile. You whined at the loss of contact, your orgasm ruined as your walls clenched around nothing. “Why’d you do that?” You asked breathlessly.
Baekhyun was clearly pleased by your reaction, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Because I waited for you. Now you have to wait for me.”
“I used my mouth. That’s harder work.” You pouted.
You were quickly shut up by Baekhyun’s fingers pressed against your lips, the ones that had just been inside of you. You parted your lips to allow them in. He slipped them inside, and gave you a smirk. “Next time, I’ll use my mouth, and I bet I can get you to scream even louder.” You sucked on his fingers, tasting the sweetness of your own arousal, and you felt your stomach flutter at the mention of a next time.
Baekhyun must have also felt the excitement his words caused, quickly bringing his lips back to yours to taste you on them. “Mmm...” He hummed against you. “I bet it’ll be even better when my mouth is on you for real.”
"Stop making promises and just fuck me, already.”
Baekhyun grinned at your words, just as eager to do what you both came here to do. Reaching over you, he opened the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a condom. He ripped it open before tossing the wrapper somewhere on the floor, then sat back on his heels to roll it on himself. You watched as he did so, practically salivating at the thought of him finally inside of you.
Once it was on, he leaned forward again, one hand holding him up beside your head, and the other lining up his dick with your entrance. He looked down at you, his smile never fading, and stared into your eyes. 
“Ready?” He asked softly, gently rubbing his tip between your wet folds. You shuddered at the teasing sensation and nodded. “Yeah, ready.”
With that, Baekhyun began pressing into you slowly. You each let out a mutual groan as your walls pulled him in deeper, and your fingers latched onto his back for dear life. He slowly pushed himself inside of you further, inch by inch. “God, you feel so fucking good,” He growled, using all of his strength to not start pounding into you immediately.
Just as you had imagined, his girth was stretching you intensely, causing a dull ache as he slowly gave you more and more to take. He let out a sharp breath when he felt himself bottom out. The feeling of his tip press against your cervix forced a cry from your lips, which Baekhyun swallowed as he kissed you deeply.
“Hurts?” He asked with concern, lifting his lips from yours to search for any amount of pain in your eyes. “A little,” You admitted, still pressing your fingertips deep into the skin of his back. “Just give me a minute. It’s been a while.” You laughed breathlessly,
“Whatever you need.” Baekhyun obliged, holding himself stationary above as the sweat pooled all over him, the dark hair sticking to his forehead becoming damp above you. You could tell he was struggling not to move by the way he turned away from your gaze. The sight of him falling apart above you made your discomfort dissipate and turn to pleasure, your walls squeezing around Baekhyun.
“Please, I have to move.” Baekhyun sighed, the feeling of you clenching sending him to the edge. You nodded, and he slowly pulled out before easing back into you, creating a slow and steady pace with his hips. You groaned at the delicious feeling of him moving inside of you, filling you completely with every slow thrust. You found his eyes, giving him a reassuring squeeze on his bicep. “You don’t have to be gentle with me, you know.”
"Oh, thank god.” He let out a sigh of relief. “I can’t take it this slow.”
And with your words guiding him, Baekhyun increased his pace, earning small groans from you each time he filled you to the hilt. You bounced on the bed with each rock of his hips into you, opting to grab the headboard above you with both hands so as to not slow him down. “Don’t stop, Baek,” You moaned up at him. “Feels so good.”
He groaned at your words, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on his movements. You watched his face contort in concentration, thoroughly enjoying the look on his face as he fell apart above you, whispering your name each time he thrusted in. “Does it feel good?” You questioned him teasingly.
Eyes still shut, Baekhyun let out a breathy laugh at your words. “Yeah, feels amazing,” He answered between grunts as he continued thrusting.
“Then fuck me harder.” You egged him on breathlessly. “I know you can.”
Baekhyun’s eyes shot open at your challenge, catching the impish look you threw at him. “Harder? No problem.” 
And he met your challenge with determination. Carefully, he pulled himself nearly all the way out, before slamming himself back down onto you as hard as he could. The blow caused you to let out your loudest moan yet, and before you could recover he was crashing into you again. And again. And again. Each time, you screamed louder than before, causing the smirk on his face to grow. “How’s that?” He asked sarcastically. “Hard enough?”
You let out laugh between gasping breaths, trying to regain some amount of composure in your current situation. “Yeah, good,” You managed to pant out. “Not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”
“That’s the goal,” Baekhyun muttered back. Suddenly, his long fingers were wrapped around your neck, as he pulled you to lay sideways. Not letting go, he quickly repositioned himself so that he lay behind you, and began thrusting up into you once more.
You moaned louder and louder with each thrust, the new angle allowing him to hit the spot that had you screaming his name just minutes before. You felt yourself starting to slip away, your vision going hazy as every muscle in your body began to tighten, the pit of your stomach dropping. You clenched around him as he groaned, the tightness pushing him closer and closer to his own edge.
Baekhyun could sense you were nearly there, bringing his free hand down to where you were connected to rub fast circles into your clit. You knew you were a goner, and syllables leaving your lips incoherent. You pressed your hand on top of Baekhyun’s that was still around your neck, encouraging him to squeeze harder. He groaned as he followed your instructions, tightening his grip on your airway. “Cum for me.” He whispered delicately into your ear. “It’s just us, remember? I’m here.”
His words pushed you over the edge, and you struggled to gasp for air as Baekhyun brought you to your climax, both hands on you and dick buried deep inside you. The wave of pleasure that washed through your whole body was so intense, your vision completely blacking out as you shuddered and shook in Baekhyun’s grasp, repeating his name over and over, “Baekhyun, Baekhyun...”.
He continued holding you and rubbing your over-sensitized area as you came down, your walls clenching spastically around him. Releasing his grip from your throat, he continued thrusting fast and hard into you from behind. “Gonna cum,” He muttered out between fast breaths, the feeling of you spasming sending him over the edge. His hips sputtered and a string of curses fell from his lips, mixing with your name as he came undone in your ear and released into the condom. 
He slowed and pressed himself deep inside of you as both of your breathing subsided, still coming down from both of your highs. You turned your head to look back at Baekhyun, his cheeks flushed and drenched hair framing the blissful look in his eyes. He was absolutely beautiful. He caught your eye, noticing you staring, before kissing you deeply, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek.
You pulled back slightly, smiling. “Didn’t you say you wanted to see my pretty face when I came?”
Baekhyun laughed, rubbing his thumb on your rosy cheek. “Next time, yeah?”
You nodded, not able to control your smile.
He slipped out of you and stood from the bed, looking around the floor to locate his boxers. As he pulled them on, you adjusted your dress that had remained on but migrated up to your chest. You sat up on the bed, bringing your knees into your chest and admiring Baekhyun’s figure. 
Turning back to look at you, he grinned. “I’m gonna get some water. Need anything?” He asked.
“Water would be great.” You replied as he turned to exit the room. Hearing the faucet run in the kitchen, you decided to rid yourself of your sweaty garment, opting for Baekhyun’s discarded t-shirt on the floor. Slipping it on, you smelled the remnants of his cologne, heaving a deep sigh and smiling involuntarily. The shirt didn’t completely cover your ass, but it would do. 
You slipped into the bathroom to inspect your appearance in the mirror. You hair, which was already somewhat of a mess to begin with, was even bigger now, and your makeup a bit more smudged. But you looked free. You felt happy.
Baekhyun appeared in the mirror beside you, glass of water in hand for you. You accepted it with a quick thank you, gulping it down.
“So you like being choked, huh?”
Coincidentally, you nearly choked on your water when Baekhyun blurted it out.
Catching yourself, you gasped for air and tried to recover.
“I mean, first you want to choke on my dick, then you want me to choke you out?”
“Baekhyun!” You gasped, slapping him on the arm.
“I know you said you were into some kinky stuff, but damn...” Baekhyun chuckled the shit-eating grin returning to his face.
You rolled your eyes. “Like you didn’t like it.” You teased back.
Baekhyun shook his head. “Never said I didn’t. Looks good, by the way.” He paused to look you up and down, his shirt draped over your body. He scratched the back of his neck. “I assume, you’re, uh, gonna spend the night?”
You blushed a bit at the question, shifting on your feet uncomfortably. “I mean, yeah, if that’s okay. If I went home now, Minji would-”
“It’s totally fine, don’t worry.” Baekhyun reassured you, gently placing a kiss on your forehead. “You wanna borrow some shorts or something? If I wake up in the middle of the night with your bare ass against me, I can’t promise I’ll behave...”
You laughed, the comfort of being with Baekhyun returning. He graciously offered you a pair of gym shorts, which you accepted.
As you set your glass of water on the bedside table, you felt drowsiness from your activities and night of drinking overtake you. Slipping between the sheets, your eyelids felt heavy.
Baekhyun flipped the light switch before joining you in bed, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you close. 
“Goodnight.” Baekhyun whispered, intertwining his legs with yours.
You smiled, eyes closing. “Goodnight.”
Before you lost consciousness, one last thought passed through your mind-
“It’s just us, remember?”
You hoped it was true.
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complexgods-backup · 4 years ago
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Isn’t It Cliché? Chapter 1
Ship: DaiSuga (Haikyuu!!)
Summary: “Suga almost dropped the pen he was holding as he saw what was probably the most handsome man he has ever seen enter the Starbucks. He looked extremely tired, and Suga wondered if he was hungover. He had short brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes, and Suga couldn’t help but notice his biceps straining the fabric of his shirt as he took off his coat. Quickly pushing away any impure thoughts, Suga put on his best employee smile as he took his order.”
Sugawara Koushi moves to Tokyo with a broken heart and a desire to start over and falls for a handsome stranger that frequents the coffee shop he works at. Unfortunately, it’s harder for Suga to get him to open up than he thought. It’s all pretty cliché.
Word Count: 2418 
Beta-read by: @mesreves
Warnings: None
A/N: This fic has become somewhat of a passion project of mine, I hope you enjoy it! I already posted 5 chapters on ao3, so feel free to read the rest (and all the tags) on there! I will try and post the chapters as regularly as uni will let me! The fic is under the cut :) 
“Fuck, I’m already late,” Sugawara groaned as he finally awoke with his third alarm. It was his first day at his new job and he really needed the money, so being late was not an option and it was already 7:32 am. He dressed in a hurry, popping some toast into the toaster as he gathered all his things. He ran outside his apartment with one shoe still untied, his coat barely over his shoulders, and the piece of toast in his mouth. I can’t get any more cliché , Sugawara thought to himself as he ran down the stairs to run to the subway. Thankfully, there was a subway stop right by his apartment building and he lived only a few stops away from the Starbucks he got hired at.
As he stepped outside, the crisp autumn air hit his face and he instantly lifted his head to smell the fresh air. Autumn was his favourite season, mainly because the world turned golden brown for a few weeks and the sunsets were phenomenal. He couldn’t wait to explore the new city he moved to and watch the sunset from all around the city. He pushed the thought aside as he swallowed the last piece of toast and walked into the station, focussed on finding the right platform. He constantly checked his phone to see which stop he needed to get out at, still unsure about his orientation skills in Tokyo. Even though he visited the city multiple times as a kid, he knew that getting lost was inevitable. He watched the sun rise higher over the city as the subway continued on its journey, cramped full of people going to their 9 to 5. When his stop came up, he pushed himself out of the cart, cursing himself that he was so far back. He hated inconveniencing people.
Despite all the hassle, he managed to be in front of the Starbucks ten minutes early, signaling to his coworker already inside that he was there. Once the manager gave him his apron, she left Sugawara’s coworker to show him the ropes. Although he had already been employed at a Starbucks before, it was protocol to explain how everything worked, so he listened diligently to his coworker, who was called Yamaguchi Tadashi.
“It’s the busiest right before 9 am and after 4 pm, so you’ll be with at least two other people then. Our other colleague will be here any minute, but you’ll only take orders and work at the cash register today. That sound good?” Suga nodded, impressed at how the other took charge. When he first met him after his interview, he seemed so shy and insecure, but he was clearly in his element. Despite Sugawara being two years Yamaguchi’s elder, he did not dare speak informally to him yet, quite frankly intimidated by his authority. As soon as Yamaguchi seemed pleased with Sugawara’s work, a gorgeous woman, no older than Sugawara, walked in, and he couldn’t help but blush a little bit as she turned to him and wished him a good morning.
“I’m Kiyoko Shimizu, I’m the shift manager and I’ll be working the orders with Tadashi today, it’s nice to meet you.” She gave a shy smile and he nodded at her.
“Nice to meet you, Kiyoko-san! I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga.” He flashed her a smile to emphasize how happy he was to meet her.
“Oh no need for the honorifics, we’re all the same age group and I’m not a big fan of formalities. Just call me Kiyoko!” Suga smiled and nodded as she walked to the back of the store to put down her things and get her apron.
Yamaguchi didn’t lie when he said that most people come through before 9 am, as the shop got extremely busy within minutes. Most of the time, the orders were pretty simple and Suga’s endless patience seemed to serve him well. He didn’t mind taking up orders, knowing that making all those complicated drinks were oftentimes less fun to make, especially if it was busy. But Yamaguchi and Kiyoko seemed to know each other extremely well, making their work ethic impeccable.
Suga didn’t even notice how fast the time went by, and when he next looked at the clock that adorned the wall opposite the till he saw it was already 10h30am. The shop was quieter now that most people got their morning coffee before work, and the three could have short conversations between customers.
“So what do you study?” Kiyoko asked, biting down on a cinnamon roll a customer decided they didn’t want after Yamaguchi had already warmed it up.
“I’m in my second year of Japanese Studies and Elementary Education. I transferred here this year because my old uni was not a good fit for me. What about you?” He asked his peers, who in turn said what they studied. Yamaguchi was an engineering major and Kiyoko was in her last Bachelor's year of studying History of Art. They were interrupted as a customer opened the door. Suga almost dropped the pen he was holding as he saw what was probably the most handsome man he has ever seen enter the Starbucks. He looked extremely tired, and Suga wondered if he was hungover. He had short brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes, and Suga couldn’t help but notice his biceps straining the fabric of his shirt as he took off his coat. Quickly pushing away any impure thoughts, Suga put on his best employee smile as he took his order. He tried his best to hide the blush that slowly crept over his cheeks as he heard how gruff the man’s voice sounded.
“I’ll have a caramel frappuccino with three extra pumps of caramel syrup and an extra shot of espresso.” The man said, which surprised Suga for some reason. He didn’t expect the man to have such a sweet drink but he refused to let the shock show on his face as he asked for the customer’s name to write on the cup.
“Sawamura.” He gruffed, barely looking up at the barista. Suga figured he was too hungover and/or tired so he didn’t think much of it as he wrote his name on the cup with a little smiley face next to it, handing Kiyoko the cup. When his order was done, he sat down where he put his coat and immediately plugged his headphones into his phone, and started typing on his laptop.
“He most definitely forgot an assignment he was supposed to write during break.” Yamaguchi giggled as they all secretly watched the man type furiously.
“Do you know who he is?” Suga asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. The other two just shrugged.
“No. He comes here a few times a month and orders ridiculously sweet drinks. He usually stays a few hours.” Kiyoko answered, seeming uninterested. Suga nodded and decided to drop the matter. Soon there were more people coming in and out of the café and Suga was too busy to pay him any more mind. He met one other of his coworkers as Yamaguchi’s shift ended earlier. He was small and energetic, and Suga found out that he studied sports. Makes sense, Suga thought to himself as he smiled at how much energy Hinata seemed to have.
After his shift finally ended, Suga was glad to get back to his small apartment. It wasn’t anything big or fancy, but it was enough for him. There were some unpacked boxes still in one corner of the apartment that he had neglected the entire week in favour of exploring the city. He wasn’t big on decorating except for a string of fairy lights and a big houseplant his best friend gave him when he moved away.
The one thing he was thankful for in his small apartment was his bathtub. Even though it wasn’t exactly the biggest bathtub he had ever seen, he was very fond of it. It was the perfect size for him, even though he had to bend his knees to comfortably have his shoulders underwater. He loved taking hot baths after a long day, letting the hot water ease the aches and pains of the day, getting lost in his thoughts with nothing but two candles illuminating his small bathroom. Today was no different. As he sank into the mixture of bubbles and warm water, he let his mind wander, phone on silent. He mentally planned out the next week because that was when his classes would officially be starting. He made a mental note of all the things he still needed to do before bed as he closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the bath engulf him. Subconsciously, his mind wandered back to that man from the Starbucks this morning. What was his name again? Sam… Something. No, Sawamura, that was it. He couldn’t help but remember how handsome he looked, even though he seemed to be having the hangover of his life. Suga wondered what he would look like with a good night’s rest and maybe if he wasn’t that grumpy or stressed out. Sighing, he tried to push the image of the handsome stranger out of his mind. He was done falling for people and getting into relationships for now anyways, especially with what happened with his ex… He left him with a broken heart and trust issues, and he didn’t think he’d be able to go through that kind of pain again anytime soon.
God, you’re so pathetic , Suga thought to himself. Are you really planning your future with some guy? Just because he’s handsome and mysterious and most definitely out of your league? And most probably painfully heterosexual… Get a grip on yourself.
He sighed and opened his eyes, pulling himself out of the bathtub, drying himself off, and getting ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a hell of a day, mainly because he had no idea what to expect from his new University, especially how the people were going to be.
He fell asleep the instant his head touched the pillow, content he could finally fall into a dreamless slumber.
Suga woke up with a start, confused as to why his alarm rang even though it was still dark out. When he looked at his phone, he realised that it was not his alarm but, in fact, his best friend trying to FaceTime him. Sighing, he accepted the call.
“Asahi, what do you want? It’s almost one a.m.” Suga groaned, rubbing his face.
“Oh no did I wake you? Sorry! But also I’m not sorry because you promised we’d call today! Didn’t think you’d forget..” Asahi said on the other side of the phone and Suga mentally slapped himself.
“Right, sorry… I forgot… Today was a lot and I just got settled at work and… Ugh… I’m sorry. But I’m here now! How was your day?” Suga asked, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“No worries! Just wanted to check in to see if you were still alive. My day was alright, I’m getting ready for tomorrow and I’m kinda nervous.” Suga could tell that Asahi was more than “a bit nervous” so he sat up in bed, facing the camera in earnest.
“You’ll do great! Uni is hard but it’s important to remember that every single first-year goes through the same! I promise it’ll be alright!” Asahi only frowned in response to his encouragement, clearly skeptical.
“But you have it so easy, Suga. It’s so difficult for me to talk to new people.” Asahi all but pouted. Suga sighed.
“Yeah I know, but I promise you a lot of people are the same, and you being like that hasn’t stopped us from being friends, right?” Suga prompted, smiling at the camera.
“Yes, but we were neighbours. Also, we’ve been friends since we were 5. You’re kinda stuck with me.” Asahi smiled and Suga just shook his head.
“You’re so stubborn. You’ll be fine! You can always text me if you get anxious but please try and at least talk to one person. Can you do that for me?” Suga asked and he could see Asahi calm down the more they talked.
“Yes, I’ll try. Alright, tell me about your day!” Asahi said excitedly, leaning his face closer to the camera.
“Oh, it was nice actually! I mean it was exhausting but my colleagues are super nice! One of them would get along really well with Noya actually, he has so much energy and is so positive, they’d be the best of friends in no time.” Asahi’s face smiled sadly at the mention of his boyfriend. They’ve been long-distance for four months and Suga knew how much his best friend missed him.
“But yeah the other people are really kind as well. Remember that shy boy that was working when I had my interview? Turns out he is actually a badass behind the counter and he could shit-talk for days.” Suga laughed at that, knowing that Asahi disapproves of anything that has to do with making fun of others.
“I’m glad that your coworkers are nice!! I miss hanging out with you” Asahi said, his face pulled into a frown yet again.
“I do too. But hey I’ll be coming back for a weekend soon and we’ll be able to hang out together!” Suga prompted, trying to stifle a yawn.
“Yes, that’s true. Alright, you look tired, you should sleep” Asahi said, and Suga agreed. His head felt heavy and his eyes were closing despite his will to keep them open.
“We’ll call tomorrow after your first day’s over! I think I’ll be free after 4 pm so just call me when you have time” Suga sleepily smiled at the camera as they said their goodbyes and he immediately fell back asleep.
He awoke the next morning with his first alarm, something that didn’t happen often. He decided to enjoy the morning then, having more than an hour to get to the subway: he had a strong cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone. After sending Asahi a few memes as was his morning ritual, he ran down the stairs to get to his uni. He had visited it a few times before moving, so he was more confident in finding his way from the subway to the doors of the main building.
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plctitude · 4 years ago
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* daniel sharman, cis man + he/him  | you know tobin 't.c.' childs, right? they’re 30, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eleven years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to the art of getting by by laura zocca like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole scuffed shoes and messy bedhead, faded denim jacket, nervous twisting of a wedding ring on his ring finger thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is june 3rd, so they’re a gemini, which is unsurprising, all things considered.
( CW : cancer & death ) .
hello ! im gel and this is my little runt t.c. ! lmk if you wanna plot something
full name : tobin childs . preferred name / nickname : t.c. age : thirty . birthday : june 3rd . sexual orientation : straight . relationship status : widowed , single . occupation : pediatrician . residence : port apartments .
history ––
t.c. was born in hackney , london . he’s gone by t.c. ever since he can remember and rarely ever allows people to call him tobin ( even his family ) .
his parents went through a horrible divorce when he was 13 , at which point he moved to the usa with his mother to live with his grandparents . his father stayed in england with his then-girlfriend , now his wife and t.c.’s stepmother .
he and his mother ended up in wrightsville beach, a small town near wilmington, nc.
essentially based off of landon from a walk to remember : an absolute troublemaker as a teenager . completely aimless and just uncaring caring about his future . his senior year , he and his friends ended up getting a boy’s leg broken after a prank went wrong . instead of being expelled , t.c. was only made to do a multitude of service/community projects . and that’s how he becomes close to avery , when they’re paired up in the school play . his friends had always disliked her , because that’s how the status quo was – he was in the popular crowd and she was the daughter of the local minister .
cancer cw // they grew closer , and after getting past some petty high school drama , they began to date . it’s not until several dates later that avery tells t.c. that she has leukemia , and she’s not making any plans for the future . and t.c. goes to his estranged father , a doctor , to beg him to help avery , but despite their best efforts , there’s nothing that can be done .
cancer cw // avery’s condition worsens , and she ends up in the hospital . she decides to forgo further treatment , wanting to be able to enjoy the time she has left . on the night of their graduation, t.c. asks avery to marry him , and she accepts . they get married a week later with their closest friends and family , avery’s father officiating .
death cw // they spent the summer as a married couple , and avery passed away that fall. and as a result, t.c. became a very young widow .
t.c. tried his best to heal and move on , working odd jobs and making plans to go to college then medical school , but being in a town full of memories was just too painful so he decided to leave .
he moved to irving , nc where his aunt ( his mother’s sister ) and her family lives . ( this was about 11 years ago )
he worked as a waiter for about a year while taking online classes at the local college , before he transferred to unc chapel hill . he graduated in three years and then went to attend medical school at wake forest .
originally , he planned to work in oncology but instead of it being a helpful part of his healing process like it can be for some , it actually just forced him to remember a lot of things about avery and it hurt too much . so he chose to become a pediatrician instead , since he loved working with kids and he was pretty good at comforting the parents when he needed to .
now ––
t.c. definitely considers irving his home now , but he still does his best to visit his mom and her boyfriend in wrightsville beach . he also visits avery’s father every now and again just to catch up and to make sure he’s doing alright . there are four times a year he will always visit though – avery’s birthday , his birthday , his and avery’s wedding anniversary , and the anniversary of avery’s death .
he works as a pediatrician which surprisingly isn’t as stressful of a job as he thought it would be . he absolutely loves working with kids and he’s very committed to his job .
becoming a widow at such a young age really put a lot of things in perspective for him so he’s a lot less indecisive and apathetic as he used to be .
that being said , he stills finds it hard to get up in the morning sometimes . he’ll wake up about 15 minutes before his shift starts , not because he overslept , but because he laid in bed staring at the ceiling for thirty minutes .
he still has an english accent but it’s not as obvious as it used to be when he first moved to the us . it’s definitely still there but there are slang words that he doesn’t really say with an accent , or with just a very faint one .
personality ––
the grief he experienced from losing avery was something that was incredibly hard for him to work through , but a lot of what he does now, he does to make her proud . she still serves as motivation for him to get up and go do things , because he knows that she wouldn’t want him just sitting around .
he’s an all-around good guy , though a little quiet at times . he sometimes tends to fall a bit too deep into his thoughts , but overall , he’s charming and really sweet .
he loves being around people , but on a bad day , it can be very draining for him .
when he gets anxious , he fiddles with the ring on his hand , which he hasn’t taken off and doesn’t ever plan to. with how often people ask about the ring , he’s grown more used to telling the story of him and avery but most people notice the way he still gets a little choked up every time .
hobbies include : writing , volunteering , cooking ( not baking ) .
wcs ––
ride-or-die best friend - they’ve been friends since t.c. blew into town and they’ve been inseparable since
exes - these probably didnt last long bc he genuinely feels like he’s used up his one ‘true / epic love’ on avery ; could’ve ended well or badly 
neighbor(s) - would love like a cute little apartment group that gets together and has dinner parties and regular parties and movie nights , game nights ,etc.
someone he volunteers with - they could be friends who just decided to volunteer somewhere together or they could’ve met when they were both volunteering at the same place
childhood friends / enemies ? either from london or from wrightsville . it would be cool to have someone who knew him before avery .
former coworkers – from back when he was a waiter
college classmates – at unc chapel hill 
current coworkers – other doctors , medical professionals , etc.
friends of his aunt , friends of his aunt’s family
friends , in general !
literally anything ! i’m super super down for anything so lmk if you wanna plot 
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captaincasey · 4 years ago
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The flowers on your arm
Word count: 706
Pairing: Sylvie Brett x Matt Casey
Summary: Sylvie Brett likes to draw when she's nervous or upset. After noticing this, Matt starts carrying art supplies with him wherever he goes. He wants to be able to help the person that has already helped him so much. Eventually the three colored pens that sit in his pocket become an essential in both of their lives.
I’m planning on making this a multichapter fic, so stayed tuned! I hope you all enjoy this fic!
When Matt first noticed it, he and Sylvie had been dating for approximately two weeks. They were on shift and had just gotten back from a long, tiring call. An apartment complex had caught on fire with over a dozen people trapped inside. Squad and truck worked throughout the night to find the civilians and lead them outside safely before handing them over to the paramedics.
The last time that Matt had seen Sylvie was before his third trip back into the complex, she and Mackey had been treating a little girl, probably no older than six years. From what he could tell, the girl had a severe case of smoke inhalation and third-degree burns covering multiple parts of her body.
Matt desperately wanted to say something to his girlfriend. He could see the slight frown that was occupying her face and the way she would bite her bottom lip every so often. Sylvie looked stressed and he wanted to make sure she was alright, but he knew they both had jobs to do and that there were people depending on them. So, the captain put his oxygen mask and helmet back on before nodding at Severide, signaling that he was ready to go back inside.
The ride back to the house had felt longer than usual and his team had been extremely quiet. There was a slight sadness in the air because while they may have gotten everybody out, they all knew that each and every civilian would have a long road ahead of them.
When they arrived back at the house, the men and women of 51 began filing into the kitchen area, eager to eat and then try their best to catch some sleep before the next call. Matt sat down in his usual spot at the head of the table, his fingers fidgeting with a pen while he not so patiently waited for his girlfriend.
The captain really tried to pay attention to what Cruz and Kidd were saying, he caught the occasional sentence here and there. However, the conversation became increasingly less interesting when he started to realize that Sylvie wasn’t coming.
Dropping the pen on the table and telling his coworkers that he had paperwork that needed to be finished, Matt began walking through the firehouse in search of his girlfriend. Just as he had predicted, Sylvie was silently sitting on his bunk with all of the blinds closed on the office windows. She was staring down at the light blue notebook sitting on her lap. One of her hands was resting on the book’s edge, holding it still, while the other was carefully moving the tip of a pink pen across the white paper.
Matt had seen Sylvie upset, but that was before they had started dating. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this and he really didn’t want to risk making her feel more upset. So, Matt chose to simply sit across from her at the foot of the bed, watching her draw in the light blue notebook while tears slowly fell down her face.
Just as he began questioning his decision, Sylvie slowly looked up at him and spoke.
“She didn’t make it”.
The words were spoken so softly and quietly that Matt almost missed them, but the heartbreak and sadness they contained was clear. Knowing that he would need more than simple words to make her feel better, he moved so they were now sitting impossibly close to each other before gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Sylvie leaned into the touch, resting her head against him. Their bodies were connected at every possible point, leaving no space in-between.
Matt leaned down to place a kiss on his girlfriend’s soft blonde hair, before saying “I’m so sorry this happened, but I know that you did everything you could”.
No words were said after that. The couple sat silently on the bunk, wrapped in each others’ arms. Sylvie still had tears flowing down her face, but this was something she just wasn’t ready to talk about.
Glancing down, Matt saw the notebook resting on Sylvie’s lap. The open page was covered in flowers, each being made of smooth lines and different colors.
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greekgrad12 · 4 years ago
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It Takes Two: percabeth!au
chapter two :)
Mattie Jackson and Hayley Chase meet at the start of summer and discover that they are each other's identical clone. With a little more investigating, the two girls discover that they are, in fact, twins. Things only get crazier when they find out that their adoptive parents were once in love. Now, they have to work together to reunite Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase before Mattie’s dad ends up dating the new camp counselor and Hayley’s mom gets married to a kid hating, gold digger.
And what better way to do that than to switch places?
or
i rewatched It Takes Two and decided to make it percabeth :)
read on ao3
chapter one here!
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The faded white stone was the first thing Annabeth Chase noticed when she and her daughter pulled into the driveway of their summer house. Well, summer house was a loose term now. Annabeth had been living here all year while working on a new project. One that was very near and dear to her heart. When Chiron called and asked if she would be willing to redesign the old camp, she was more than happy to. She even threw in a family discount, because that's exactly what he was. Family.
Annabeth Chase was a very famous name in the architecture world. She graduated top of her class at Berkeley and quickly got a job at Medusa & Co. Architecture. Her coworkers were somber, but the work was good. Working for a big company like Medusa & Co. brought on a lot of challenges, but that's what drew her in. Annabeth loved a challenge. What she didn't love were the rumors and scandals constantly going around about faulty cement, old metals, and rickety wires being used to create their buildings in an attempt to make more money. When she decided to investigate and learned that the rumors were true, Annabeth just had to leave. Creating her own Architecture Company took some time, but the exposure and resources she acquired while at Medusa & Co. helped her along the way. And the money she got from her tip to the media about what was really going on at her old job didn't hurt either.
Now, she was the proud owner and head architect at Parthenon Architecture. Having expanded her company to five different states all over America, Annabeth was a busy woman. So busy that she never really had time to think about her life outside of work. She knew she wanted to get married and have a family. Something permanent. But even with the casual dates, her friends insisted she go on, Annabeth never felt that spark that she knew made something worth pursuing. She knew what that felt like. She'd experienced it before, with-
"Woah," The sweet voice of her daughter broke Annabeth from her thoughts, "Remind me why we don't stay here more often?"
Annabeth didn't have time for romance, but she wanted a family. Thanks to adoption agencies, she could have that. But honestly, Annabeth wasn't even sure if she was ready to be a mother when she went in for a consultation with the agency. Her parents divorced when she was young, and due to her mother's career in government at D.C., Annabeth was left with her father. Eventually, her stepmother came into the picture and the blonde little girl was pushed into the background. The woman wanted absolutely nothing to do with Annabeth and her father did nothing to help. Things only got worse when her little twin brothers came into the picture.
Annabeth's mother would come back every other month and the two would spend the day together, but she couldn't be there every time the girl needed her. The best thing her mother did for her was sign Annabeth up for Camp Half-Blood when she was a seven. That first year at camp changed her life. She made friends who became family and finally found a place that felt like home. People who felt like home. A boy who felt like home.
"Remind me how often we come to Rhode Island?" she teased the ten-year-old.
The girl turned back to her mother and responded with a straight face, "Ha-ha."
Annabeth laughed at that, "Come on, Hayley, let's unpack. I wanna show you something in the house."
Despite her estranged relationship with motherhood, Annabeth never had to think twice about adopting Hayley. Before adopting the girl, she did her research. Apparently, Hayley's birth mother moved to California a week after she was born, hoping for a fresh start with her new child. Unfortunately, her new life didn't have room for a baby. The woman tried for about two months before abandoning the little girl at an adoption agency. Annabeth knew what it was like to feel abandoned, so she was happy to claim the two month old as her own.
She tried her best to be an attentive and caring mother, and being her own boss helped make that possible. Still, with Annabeth being so busy with the camp reconstruction plans, she and her daughter hadn't been able to spend as much time together this year. Hayley had spent the greater part of last year begging her mom to let her join them in Rhode Island, and as much as Annabeth wanted her around, she wasn't about to pull her daughter out of school for a whole year. Especially with everything they've gone through at past schools.
Much like Annabeth, Hayley Chase is a famous name. Hayley wasn't a problem child. She is a good kid. A good kid with bad luck. Getting her daughter into schools was the easy part. As the granddaughter to a Congresswoman, an American and Military History professor at West Point, and the daughter of the third most famous Architect in the United States, schools were eager to have Hayley in their programs. And having an eleventh-grade reading level didn't hurt either. It was when the school year began that things usually went south.
Wrong place, wrong time basically sums up Hayley's life. Nothing too crazy happened, but it was usually enough to ensure that the girl wouldn't be getting an invitation back. So far, she had been kicked out of three schools. Once for getting too many detentions due to 'continuous disrespect,' which is just a fancy way of saying, "You're child pointed out too many of my teaching mistakes and I'm sick of being contradicted."
Another time was when a nasty girl in her class tripped Hayley in the lunchroom. The girl's tray went flying, and the food fight that ensued was blamed on her. The last incident was the result of a classroom fire, but there's really no time to unpack that. Hayley never meant for these things to happen. She knew how hard her mother worked, and she admired her greatly for that. The last thing she wants is to add stress to her life.
What Hayley didn't realize, however, was that she made Annabeth's life anything but stressful. The woman couldn't be prouder to have a daughter as clever, kind, and patient as Hayley. Annabeth spent her whole life wanting to build something permanent, but when she finally did, she looked around and realized that it's wasn't worth much without someone permanent beside her. She wants to do right by her daughter, and that's one of the reasons why she was so excited to finally have Hayley over at the summer house with her. Not only would she get to spend time with her daughter again, but Annabeth would get to show Hayley where she grew up. Her home.
Camp Half-Blood.
Hayley was now carrying a backpack over her shoulders and tugging a suitcase behind her as she walked up the steps to the giant house, "What is it?"
"It's a surprise," The woman answered, simply. Annabeth had just dropped her bag onto the porch and was currently scrummaging in her bag for the door keys.
"What kind of surprise?" Hayley pressed while admiring the exterior of the house. The two story mansion had once belonged to her great-grandmother, but it hadn't been used in years. The green-eyed girl suddenly found herself hoping that the surprise wasn't spiderwebs and dust. Then again, her mother had been living here on and off again for the past six months. If there was even a hint of spiders, the house would have already been hosed down by exterminators, "Surprise like, 'I'm doubling your allowance for not causing trouble this year!' or surprise like, 'Grandma's coming to visit'?"
Annabeth had unlocked the door but held it ajar, "Actually, yes, your grandma is coming in a few days to visit."
A grim look overtook Hayley's face. It's not that she didn't like Grandma Athena, it's just that she was very... controlled. Hayley always assumed that it was the Congresswoman in her that made the old lady so uptight. Every time she came to visit, her mom would get anxious and start to stress work. The little girl knew all about her mother's upbringing. The mother-daughter pair were very close, and Hayley was protective of the people she loved, so she never enjoyed seeing the effect her grandmother had on Annabeth.
"Why is she coming here?" The young girl asked, trying her best to hide her disapproving tone, "The only thing she does when she comes over is stress you out and give me passive-aggressive looks for not indulging myself in nonfiction books."
"Hayley, if you want to read Agatha Christie, read Agatha Christie. If you want to read Marvel Comics, read Marvel Comics. Don't let her make you feel bad about your interests," If there was one thing Annabeth was willing to face her mother for, it was her daughter. It pissed the woman off to no end when her mother, the one who had basically abandoned her as a child, tried to tell Annabeth how to raise her daughter.
That's another thing Hayley loved about her mom. No matter what she did, her mom was right behind her with unconditional support. When Hayley entered the Spelling Bee, her mother stayed up the night before and helped her practice, even though she had scheduled an early meeting the next morning to ensure she would be off on time to attend the contest. When the girl wanted to join an art class, Annabeth went out and bought her a whole new art supply kit. When, at the age of four, she decided that blue and yellow were magic colors, and her mom decided to make blue cookies for her. She only made them once, and Hayley was young when she did, but the girl still could have sworn she remembers her mother tearing up when her daughter took her first bite of the blue food.
And there was the time when she was three, and Hayley had her first asthma attack.
Annabeth had been a wreck for the entire process. Of course, Hayley had recovered quickly, and thanks to her Flovent medication, she hasn't had a major attack in years. All thanks to her mom. If Annabeth Chase was anything, it was a planner. Hayley was on a strict schedule when it came to taking her medication. Even though her daughter's asthma hadn't acted up in years, she wasn't going to chance losing her ever again.
"Rebel against Grandma?" Hayley joked, "Sounds like a plan."
Annabeth huffed out a laugh, but Hayley could tell something was off. She just now noticed that her mother hadn't been looking her in the eyes and that she was still standing in front of the cracked open door, blocking the girl from what's inside. She also noticed that her mother didn't answer her question about why Grandma Athena would be visiting.
"Why don't we go inside? I may have lied about the surprise- or rather, the extent of it. There is actually more than one."
Hayley's confusion must have been very noticeable, because right as she was about to ask more questions, Annabeth opened the front door to reveal two people waiting inside.
"Piper! Leo!" Hayley dropped her bags onto the porch and ran to her godmother and honorary uncle. The two dropped down and hugged the little girl with just as tightly as she did them.
"Hey, Hay!" Leo teased the girl as her arm wrapped around his neck.
"Oh my goodness, there is no way you got this big over one school year!" Piper exclaimed as she pulled back from the girl's other side, "You get any taller and you're gonna outgrow Leo."
While that was definitely an exaggeration, Leo still scoffed at the girl. Watching as the three got reacquainted, Annabeth picked up her daughter's bags that were abandoned on the porch and laid them inside. After she placed her own bags on the floor, Piper's dark eyes shot up and reached Annabeth's gray ones.
The woman smiled down at Hayley before walking over to give her mom a big hug. Piper McLean and Annabeth had been friends for years. The two met in the third grade. They bonded over daddy issues and a mutual love for Skittles. You know, normal kid stuff. After decades of sleepovers, secret handshakes, bad haircuts, and One Direction phases, the girls were still inseparable. If anyone could read Annabeth like a book, it was Piper. They were a fantastic duo. So much so, that Piper was her personal assistant. Technically, she was here for work, but Annabeth was just grateful to have her best friend here for the occasion.
Annabeth met Leo Valdez in college. He was the smartest person on the robotics team and the two shared many classes together throughout the years. They became fast friends, bonding over conspiracy theories and arguing over who was the better Property Brother. When Annabeth needed a Head of Construction at her firm, she knew exactly who she wanted by her side. Leo was more than happy to accept.
Leo and Piper were great employees and even better friends. They were supportive when she told them she wanted to adopt. They were always there to remind her that it's okay to take a break. And whenever one of them decided to take her out and let her live a little, the other would watch Hayley. And they both loved Hayley.
"Glad to see you're still alive," Piper's tone was flat and quiet against Annabeth's ear. She knew her friend didn't want Hayley hearing what she had to say, and honestly, neither did Piper, "Oh, and look at that. Is that a phone sticking out of your back pocket? A phone that I have been trying to reach you on for the past hour?"
Annabeth pulled back from the hug and Piper could finally see the guilt written on her face, "I know. Look, I'm sorry I didn't answer, but I knew what you would be calling about. I couldn't exactly have you yelling at me with my ten-year-old in the passenger seat."
"So, she doesn't know then?" The black-haired woman knew the answer, but the way she was now staring Annabeth down -arms crossed, eyebrow raised- made her realize the real question she was asking went along the lines of, what the hell is your plan here?
"No," Annabeth sighed out, "I was going to tell her on the drive over from the airport, but there was just so much to catch up on-"
"Yeah, Annabeth!" Piper whisper-yelled as an exasperated look took over her face, "There is so much to catch her up on. Starting with-!"
"Hey, you two," Leo coughed out, loudly. As the girls turned their attention back to him and the little girl, they saw Leo motioning to Hayley. Annabeth's daughter sent confused glances to the three adults, "Annabeth, why don't you show Hayls what's outback?"
Annabeth clasped her hands together and moved past Piper, who was now giving Leo the death stare, "That's a great idea, Leo. Come on, Hayley, there's another surprise waiting for you."
Hayley loved a good surprise as much as the next girl, but she was very aware of the mumbled bickering going on between Piper and Leo as she and her mom walked to the back of the house. That kind of put a damper on things. There was definitely something being kept from the little girl, and she had an idea that whatever it was wouldn't be found outback.
"Come on, kiddo," Annabeth said as they reached a little study. Hayley almost missed the door as they walked up to it. The wood of the door matched the wall around it, and a few strayed out plant decorations hid it even more. It was like the room was intentionally being hidden away. Once her mother opened the door, Hayley could see why. It appeared to be a private study- a homey, little room. There was a desk that sat in the middle, surrounded by comfortable looking chairs and giant bookshelves. To the side, there was a giant bay window that let the sun in and overlooked the coastline. A telescope stood off to the right of the window and a globe of the world to the left.
"Wow," The girl breathed out. Hayley stepped into the room and heard her mother chuckle from behind her.
"Just wait," Annabeth took her daughter's hand and lead her to the giant bay window. Annabeth sat down on the cushion while placing the little girl in her lap. She pointed out towards past the water and to an open area that was covered by what looked like to be a camp.
"Is that the camp you've been working on up here?" Hayley asked, eyes still set towards the campground, "It looks beautiful."
From what she could see, the cabins were beautifully designed with different symbols on each building, "What do the different symbols mean?"
"Each camper is placed in a certain cabin based on what you designed your schedule to look like. For example, if you wanted to spend the majority of your summer in the gardens, you could request to be placed in the Grain cabin. It's just to help to keep campers organized," The woman explained, "Obviously you could still participate in the camp singalong with the Lyre cabin, or go swimming with the Triton cabin, but this way you could be focused more on your interests and be surrounded by people who shared them."
"You said you went there, right?" Hayley turned to look back at her mother, "What cabin were you in?"
"I was always in the Owl cabin," Annabeth grinned at the memory, "We spent a lot of our time in the arts and crafts department. We also held the highest number of wins in Capture the Flag."
"Capture the Flag?" The girl stared at her mother with an amused expression, "What's that like?"
Annabeth grinned down at Hayley, "Well, I guess we'll have to go over there one day and let you find out for yourself."
Her daughter's green eyes widened as she jumped from her mother's lap, "Wait, really? I get to go?"
"Well, since we won't be here the whole summer you're not an official camper, but yes. I talked to the activities director and he said they would be happy to have you come down and join in on the fun," she explained, "My only condition is that you aren't allowed to ditch me when your grandma get here. THAT, and I want a ceramic mug."
Hayley wrapped her arms around her mom's neck, "I will, I promise! It'll say Worlds Best Mom and everything."
There were many surprises in store for Hayley Chase this summer, but her daughter finally getting to experience Camp Half-Blood was Annabeth's favorite. With the architect's demanding schedule and her daughter's extracurriculars, the two didn't have a lot of extra time for just them. Summer was when they could be together the most, and no matter how much she wanted her daughter to experience the same joys she did at camp, Annabeth didn't want to send Hayley to the other side of the country without her. And there was no place for Annabeth at camp now.
However, due to her new project being Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth had the perfect excuse to bring her daughter to the place most special to her. She wanted to share her experiences with her daughter. Show her the giant pine tree right at the camp entrance where she would sit under the shade and read. Tell her about the firework show that the camp would have every year. Share every strategy she helped come up with to win almost every game of Capture the Flag. Bring her to the dock where she spent almost every day with a boy. A boy with messy hair and sea-green eyes. Green eyes that Hayley's own resembled. Annabeth wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Looking into those eyes remained her of the boy she loved. The boy she wanted to build something permanent with. The boy who teased her, encouraged her, and stuck by her no matter what. Her best friend.
The boy who she tried to keep. The boy who she couldn't keep. Annabeth thought fate was a cruel being. For years, the blonde girl just wanted someone who would stay. Someone who wouldn't leave. And when she finally found that someone, life forced the two apart. Although she hadn't seen him in years, Annabeth would still think of that boy and wonder about the man he became. While working at camp, the woman was reminded of him more than ever. The memories -and feelings- they shared.
Yes, Annabeth wanted to share her experiences with her daughter, but she could not share him. Annabeth could not tell Hayley about the boy who was shorter than her for a majority of their youth together, and how he would glare at her when she teased him about it. She could not tell her daughter about the boy who would sit through every one of her architecture rants with a smile. She could not tell her daughter about how he could coax the truth out of her with a single look, and hold her when it hurt too much to talk about.
Annabeth could not tell her daughter about her first love, P-
"Annabeth!" A voice shook the woman from her thoughts. As Annabeth's daughter pulled away from her, she noticed that her once ecstatic expression was now replaced with a look of confusion. And it wasn't hard to figure out why.
When she turned her head towards the voice, Annabeth came face to face with Luke Castellan, her fiancé.
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somekindoftuber · 6 years ago
Text
vld youtuber AU (klance, part 5)
(I apologize if the tense changes all over the place, I’m writing this as a sort of stream-of-consciousness thing because I care more about getting the idea out than writing something that’s grammatically perfect. I’ll probably clean this up and make it an actual fic once it’s all done. Thanks for reading!! :D)
part one | part two | part three | part four
There is a definite shift in Keith’s demeanor after Lance’s last visit.
They play Overwatch a few times a week, and while Keith goes into stern-leader-battle-mode when the game is going, between matches he’s loose, candid. He laughs at Lance’s jokes and makes casual conversation about his job, the garage, tells funny stories about Kosmo. Lance tells Keith stories about the customers he has at the cafe. It’s nice to hear a softness in Keith’s voice that Lance hadn’t heard before.
Keith shows up in nearly all of Lance’s Overwatch videos, even if his mic isn’t recorded. They sort of fall into a rhythm, meeting online every Tuesday and Thursday night to search for servers.
“Y’know,” Keith says one night while they’re in queue. “I wouldn’t have figured you for a sniper type.”
“Eh?” Lance is in his Widowmaker menu at that moment, flipping between two skins to see which one he likes more. “What d’you mean?”
“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Keith clarifies, and it sounds like he’s smiling. “You just seem like more of a Mercy or a support or something. You’re really…” he pauses. “Generous. Always helping people. Then you get in here and you turn into a cold blooded assassin.”
Lance laughs. “I’ve always played a sniper, though. Gotta have balance somewhere, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
.
They text a lot. It’s all small stuff, like pet photos or memes (which Keith doesn’t understand 90% of the time and Lance finds that kind of adorable). But it’s nice. Occasionally they’ll both have an early shift, and Lance will text Keith photos of the ancient espresso grinder, captioned “this thing wants me dead” surrounded with skull emojis. Keith’s sense of humor, Lance learns, is dry as cracker juice. He gets a photo of a broken rubber floor mat with the question, “what sound does a floor mat make when it splits right before a fitness class?” Before Lance can answer, he gets another photo of the same mat, this time with Keith’s middle finger pointing soundly at it. “That sound,” says the caption. Lance laughs so hard that his boss yells at him for being on his phone during a shift.
August comes to an end, and Pidge prepares for her final term. Lance helps by assisting in an apartment clean out, getting rid of literal clutter to ease Pidge’s impending mental clutter. Lance tries not to think about how this might be their last few months in this apartment together. He’s really enjoyed living with Pidge - he wasn’t exaggerating when he said she was like a sister. Pidge is an extension of his family, ever since they met at space camp all those years ago. She’d been a tiny, fluffy, indomitable ball of pure snark and Lance loved her immediately. Since then, they’d stuck together, seeing each other through some of the hardest times. Lance had cheered his lungs out when Pidge was handed her high school diploma, and in a few months, he’d see her walk across another stage in a cap and gown to receive her bachelor’s degree in Robotic Engineering.
It made him a little misty-eyed to think about it.
Pidge is playing Stardew Valley one afternoon (how the hell did she manage to make such an insanely profitable farm before the end of year one?) when she casually brings up one of Lance’s favorite fall events.
“You gonna go to the Founder’s Fair this year?”
Lance doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Uh, is the Pope catholic?”
“Good.” On the screen, Pidge’s character gives a bouquet to Penny. Dating everyone but marrying no one: the Pidge method. “Hunk is coming in for it.”
“Sweet.”
The Harborville Founder’s Fair was the highlight of every autumn. Right as the summer was fading away and the air was showing a hint of a chill, Oceanside Park would explode into three days of carnival rides, food trucks, fireworks, and everything in between. It was also the best time of year to surf - they didn’t get much in the way of waves here, but there would always be just enough in late September to rent a board. Lance had put in his time off request a month ago, buttering up his boss with the ‘this might be my last September in Harborville’ sob story. Which was sort of true, even if he wasn’t quite ready to face that reality yet.
Lance felt like he was getting closer to Keith. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was the case, but if nothing else, Keith seemed to finally be relaxing around him. There were one or two times when Lance could almost swear Keith was flirting, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. Nope, don’t go there. That’s assuming things. Assuming is dangerous.
.
The fair is in a week and to make up for missing work on what will be one of the busiest weekends of the year, Lance is working at the cafe nearly every day. He has more steam burns on his hands and wrists from making lattes than ever, and he thinks if he hears the word “pumpkin spice” one more time he might lose it. He hasn’t played Overwatch all week, too tired from extra shifts to do anything other than zone out to Netflix when he gets home.
He’s got two hours left in his Thursday morning shift, then he’s free for the whole weekend. He can practically taste the funnel cakes now - and the Rancho Alegre food truck, the only decent source of Cuban food in the entire state, will be there. God, he’s going to eat until he can’t move.
The morning rush has come and gone and the afternoon crowd isn’t here yet, so Lance is cleaning up the mess of coffee grounds and cinnamon around his work station when the bell on the cafe door sounds. He doesn’t look up as his coworker/supervisor Romelle greets whoever walks through, too preoccupied with wondering how the hell almond milk ended up underneath the grinder.
“Hello,” says the customer and Lance totally knows that voice. He stops wiping sour milk and looks up.
It’s Shiro. And right behind him is Allura and - oh shit. It’s Keith. He’s here, he’s here in the cafe and Lance had no idea he was coming and he probably looks like shit, overworked with bags under his eyes and his face breaking out from stress and he didn’t even shampoo his hair this morning because he was running late --
But then Keith smiles at him and wow. His hair is down and he’s wearing this black and red leather jacket and it should be illegal to look that good. Especially when Lance is such a mess.
“Hi,” Lance says, hating how his voice cracks. “What are you guys doing in town?”
Shiro is pulling out his wallet with his left hand. “We came for the fair. It was always one of my favorite things about going to school here.”
“Oh,” Lance squeaks.
They’re here for the fair. Lance might get to spend time at the fair with Keith. He forces himself to focus on the present before a dozen fantasies of ferris wheel rides and sharing cotton candy can take over his brain.
They all order drinks and Lance claims them before Romelle can even finish ringing them up. Shiro gets a hazelnut americano, Allura orders a tuxedo mocha, and Keith shyly asks for a latte. Lance can tell he doesn’t go to coffee shops often and makes the drinks carefully. He can’t embellish Shiro’s americano, but he uses chocolate sauce and extra foam to draw a bow tie in Allura’s mug. For Keith’s latte, he sends a prayer to the coffee gods to grant him latte art prowess. It works, and Lance is rounding out rings of coffee and foam, pulling through to form a perfect heart.
He slides the mug across the counter to Keith, who’s eyebrow shoot into his hair. He breaths a little “wow” and blushes, taking the mug and smiling. He’s wearing fingerless leather gloves. Lance’s heart flip-flops in his chest.
The three of them find a table near the window and sit, chatting and drinking their coffee. They’re too far away for Lance to hear what they’re saying, and even if he could, he’s on the clock, and the lunchtime regulars are starting to trickle in.
Would it be gauche to text his evening shift coworker and bribe him to come in early so Lance can leave?
Lance thinks Romelle can tell he’s pouting by the way she sides up to him.
“Hey,” she whispers. “Is that the guy?”
He follows her gaze and sees that it lands firmly on the table where Keith is sitting with Shiro and Allura. Keith looks up at Lance, and smiles a little before turning back to his brother.
“Yeah,” Lance whispers back, feeling his face heat up. “The one with the long hair.”
Romelle lets out a low whistle. “Quite the catch,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “What about the girl they’re with?”
“Allura?” Lance thinks. “I don’t know her very well, but she’s nice.”
“She single?”
Lance rolls his eyes and starts on the next drink. “No idea, you should ask her.”
It’s slower today and Lance is thankful for it. With Keith in the room, he can’t focus on anything - it’s a miracle he doesn’t catastrophically screw up the drinks he’s making. There’s a break in customers and Romelle comes over to Lance where he loading a portafilter with espresso and waves her phone.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she says, and he does not like that voice. That’s her Supervisor Voice. “I’ll call Ryan in an hour early if you get me Cute Girl’s number.”
Lance puts the tamp down. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He looks over at the table where Keith is sitting. They’ve all finished their drinks and will probably be leaving soon.
“Romelle,” Lance states. “You are an evil super villain and I love you. Consider that number yours.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ryan Kinkade is walking in and he doesn’t look particularly thrilled about it. Lance takes off his apron and motions at the jar of cash by the register.
“Ryan, you’re a lifesaver and my tips are yours. Thank you!” Lance clocks out before anyone can argue and walks over to where Keith and Co are sitting. He’s very much aware of how he probably reeks of coffee and looks like garbage but does his best to smile anyway.
“My shift is over, did you guys have any plans?”
Shiro smiles and stands. “I think we were going to head to our Air B&B and check in, actually. We could use a breather after that drive. We can meet up for dinner later, if you want.”
Inwardly, Lance lets out a sigh of relief because this means he’ll have time to take a shower and make himself presentable. “That sounds good! Any place you want to go?”
Shiro shrugs. “Is Vinnie’s still open?”
Lance lights up. “Oh yeah, still as good as ever, too! Want to meet there at, uh - “ He checks his phone, it’s barely 3pm. “Around five? We should beat most of the dinner rush that way.”
They all nod and the plans are made. They walk outside together and Lance watches the three of them get into a very nice Chrysler sedan - maybe Allura’s, given how she goes for the driver’s seat. Once they’re gone, Lance heads for his car and books it home. He immediately washes and exfoliates his face, then applies an anti-inflammatory mask and works at cleaning up the apartment. It was already fairly clean since Hunk will be crashing on the pull-out sofa bed for the weekend, and he has no idea of Keith will ever even see this place, but Lance doesn’t want to take any risks.
He shoots Pidge a text to tell her about their plans in case she wants to join. Hunk isn’t due until tomorrow morning.
Apartment clean(er) and his face mask dry and itchy, Lance hops in the shower and scrubs himself sore. Keith is here and will be spending the weekend here and Lance is equal parts ecstatic and terrified. He meticulously goes through his whole grooming routine, moisturizes, swabs, trims his eyebrows, even files his nails. He checks his reflection once he’s done and thankfully his face is less red, the stress acne barely noticeable.
There’s still about 45 minutes until he needs to be at Vinnie’s so Lance takes his time picking out clothes. He settles for a low cut tank top that shows off his collarbones and a beige button down over it with the sleeves rolled up, finishing it off with a pendant necklace and grey skinny jeans. He examines himself in the mirror and frowns a little. Does it look too much like date clothes?
He doesn’t have time to change because then his phone pings and it’s Shiro, saying they’re heading to Vinnie’s a little early. Lance all but throws himself out the door.
.
Vinnie’s is starting to get crowded, Lance can already see the line forming when he parks. He spots Shiro and Allura easily, their white hair making them stand out. They’d managed to claim a patio table - no small feat - and were chatting happily.
Lance joins them and it’s amazing how welcome he feels in this group, the way Shiro half-pulls a chair out for Lance. Keith is sitting to his right, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, the black t-shirt he wore stretching nicely over his chest. And if he didn’t know any better, Lance could swear he saw Keith’s eyes sweep down his neck and linger.
They ate and laughed and ate more, drinking fancy gourmet sodas. They make loose plans for the weekend - beach tomorrow, then the fair on Saturday, and maybe brunch before they leave on Sunday. Lance educates Keith in the ways of the garlic knot, the most sacred food item on earth. And when Keith shrugs and says they’re “alright,” Lance feigns offense, gasping and clutching his chest.
Pidge joins them later, looking utterly spent from a long day of classes. Lance gives up his seat so she can collapse into it. He kneels beside the table instead, passing Pidge the last of their pizza and appetizers. Keith gives him a look, then scoots over to one side of his chair, patting the other with his hand.
Lance short circuits, looking from the empty side of the chair to Keith’s face several times.
Keith rolls his eyes. “Get up here. That,” he points to where Lance is kneeling, “Is super bad for your knees.”
“Oh?” Lance slides into place, and it’s sort of uncomfortable with half of his ass hanging off the chair, but he can feel heat pouring off Keith’s body with how close he is. “You care much about my knees?”
Keith goes super red. “I’m a physical trainer,” He said, suddenly very interested in his soda. “It’s my job to care. Doing stuff like that will ruin them.”
“Right.”
Lance glances over at Pidge, who had a garlic knot halfway to her mouth and giving Lance the most predatory grin. He glares at her to shut down whatever evil plans she might be formulating.
They finally finish the food and decide to stop taking up a table, bussing it themselves to save the staff some work. Instead of a bar, they decide to head over to Lance and Pidge’s apartment to chill - half because Pidge isn’t 21 yet and wouldn’t be able to join them at most of the bars in town, and half because Vinnie’s was so loud that they’re all craving some quiet.
Lance is so thankful that his past self had the sense to clean a little more. They all sprawl out over the living room, Lance going to pull a chair from the kitchen to sit on so the guests can have the nice couch and Pidge can curl up in the easy chair. Lance offers up the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer and everyone takes one; Allura seems to be examining hers with great interest, like she’s never had one before.
Shiro talks a lot, mostly about what Harborville was like when he and Matt were in college. About their first apartment that should probably have been condemned, the dogs he’d walk between classes for extra cash. Eventually Lance’s cats come out of hiding to investigate, and Keith goes starry-eyed at Batou’s big green eyes and plush grey coat.
Pidge falls asleep in her chair just after nine. Everyone takes a second to coo at how cute she is before Lance bends down to scoop her up.
“Lemme put sleeping beauty here to bed. If she stays there she’ll be sore and cranky when she wakes up.”
He takes Pidge to her room and sets her on her bed, then wrestles her sneakers off her feet, setting her glasses on the bedside table and draping a sheet over her. When he goes back into the living room and sits in the chair he’d removed Pidge from, Allura gives him a fond look.
“You’re very sweet to her.”
Lance shrugs. “She’s pretty much family. Also, I have to do that all the time. I’ve found her face down on her homework out here more times than I want to count.”
They talk for another two hours. Lance feels a little lonely with Keith sitting on the side of the couch furthest from him, but then again, if he was closer, Lance isn’t sure his brain would work. Allura yawns wide.
“I think it’s time we turned in,” she states. “I’d like to get some rest before the weekend starts.”
Shiro agrees. Lance ends up seeing them off in the parking lot, waving as they drive away.
.
Hunk arrives just after 10am the next morning, armed with bags of groceries to pack a picnic for the beach. He puts Lance and Pidge on an assembly line in the kitchen, making pork sandwiches, vegetable rolls, hummus wraps, crab and radish tartines, potato salad, and chocolate-dipped clementine slices. He’d picked up a package of Lance’s favorite lemon cream cookies and Lance could almost kiss him for it.
With their precious picnic food carefully packed in an ice chest along with plenty of drinks, Lance shot a group text to Keith, Shiro, and Allura to ask if they were ready for the beach. He got confirmation quickly, and they agreed to hit the north shore near the lighthouse, where the sand was rougher but the tourists tended to be a little thinner.
Parking is a bitch but they find a spot, then wait by the trunk for Keith and Co to arrive. About ten minutes later Lance sees Allura’s Chrysler pull in to a spot. They walk over to meet them and Lance is practically bouncing, because 1) he gets to go to the beach, 2) he gets to go surfing with Hunk, 3) he gets to spend time with new friends, and 4) Keith is here. Everyone is in shorts and light shirts, Allura has this big floppy sun hat that is absolutely precious on her, and Keith’s face is shiny with sunscreen. Lance bets that fair skin of his will still be red by the end of the day.
They find a spot that’s decently clear and set up. Hunk, Keith, and Lance tackle the portable canopy that will hopefully keep them all from becoming completely sunburned while Allura and Pidge set out the sand blanket and arrange their stuff to keep the wind from blowing it away. Once they’re settled, the ice chest is opened and sodas and juice are passed around. The wind is strong today but not enough to be a problem for their canopy, and the waves are large and plentiful. Lance eyes the surfboard rental shack a quarter mile down the beach.
Once they’ve had enough of snacking and chatting, Lance gives Hunk fingerguns and they almost take off down the beach together, making a beeline for the surfboards. Rolo is working it as usual and after some searching they find the perfect boards and duck into the changing tent to get into their springsuits. Lance has the white and blue suit up over his hips and was about to pull it the rest of the way on when he remembers that Keith is sitting out there. Ever since Lance learned he was a Crossfit trainer, he’d started running and working out again. He wasn’t in as good a shape as he was when he’d been swimming competitively, but thanks to months of regular exercise, he at least sort of looked the part again. And maybe he wanted to show off a little. So Lance left the top of his springsuit open and hanging from his hips as they went back to the group with their boards.
“Showoff,” Hunk accused while they were still out of earshot of everyone else.
Lance subtly flexed his chest. “So? I worked hard for this.”
When they got back to the canopy, Lance did his best to act nonchalant as he set his board aside and started pulling his springsuit up over his chest. Keith was definitely looking at him. Mission accomplished.
His flirty nature satisfied, it was time to surf. Lance missed this so much, the first step into the ocean water was like heaven. He and Hunk paddled out until the water was smooth, then sat on their boards and waited. They didn’t have to wait long, Hunk caught the first good wave that came their way, riding it out and away. Lance caught the next one, and it was a crazy high. It just felt so good, cutting through the water with his board, turning, riding through tunnels of blue-green. The waves tossed him, wrecked him, dragged his body against the sand below. But every time, Lance would surface, shake it off, and paddle out for another go.
His legs finally started to shake, so Lance hauled his board back to the shore. Hunk was already sitting under the canopy again, changed out of his springsuit and sipping on a juice box.
“I was gonna give you ten more minutes before I dragged you out of the water,” Hunk said.
Lance didn’t reply, chest heaving as he caught his breath. His board hits the sand and he all but collapses onto the sand sheet, his ears ringing.
A water bottle appeared in his periphery. Lance looked up enough to trace the hand that held it back to Keith, who was wearing this cute little smile. Lance smiled back and took the bottle, downing half of it in one gulp.
Pidge starts pulling out food and Lance blindly eats whatever is handed to him, too exhausted to care what it is. It’s all delicious but with how many calories he burned surfing, he could probably be eating stale saltines and they’d taste like a delicacy. He leans back on the sand sheet and basks in the post-surf euphoria.
Lance notices everyone starting to get up. Allura is holding several frisbees with a gleam in her eye, and most of the group is rising to join her. Keith stands and, after fiddling with the collar of his shirt for a second, reaches back and pulls it over his head, letting it drop to the ground.
Lance is instantly awake because holy shit. Keith is ripped. He’s all tight skin and perfect muscles and - oh.
He’d been wrong when he’d assumed Keith’s tattoo was a wolf. It’s actually a lion, roaring fiercely, emblazoned in dark red ink over his left hip.
Keith takes a hair tie off his wrist and uses it to pull his hair up high on the back of his head. He shoots Lance a loaded glance before walking out into the sun to join everyone else for a game of frisbee tag. Lance memorizes the muscles of his back as he goes.
“Good god, you’re so loud.”
Lance sits up and turns to see Pidge, sitting in the center of the sand sheet in her shorts and green rash guard, with her phone in one hand and a cookie in the other.
“I didn’t say anything!” Lance protests. Pidge just cocks an eyebrow at him.
“Not with words, anyway.”
Lance frowns, then dares to look back out at his friends, finding Keith and tracking his movements across the beach.
.
They empty the ice chest of food and drink and, after several more hours of beach fun, they decide to pack it in and head out. Lance is going to remember this day for the rest of his life - the image of Keith glistening wet as he walked out of the ocean had finally taught Lance the meaning of the phrase “looks good enough to eat.”
Lance is so, so tired. Surfing wore him out but he still played a round of beach volleyball after that, and then swam some more. He’s going to be so sore tomorrow. He drives himself, Hunk, and Pidge back to their apartments to shower and change before they head over to the Air B&B where Shiro, Keith, and Allura are staying. Lance decides on a regular shirt and his favorite jeans, only bothering to put a single layer of moisturizer on his face.
The Air B&B turns out to be a whole house, with a yard and a little deck where they all gather around faded patio furniture as Shiro hands out beers. He gives Pidge a look as she takes one for herself.
“What?” She says as she twists off the top of the bottle. “I’m gonna be 21 in a few months, I’m in safe company, and I’m not driving.”
Shiro just sighs and sits down.
They talk and laugh for hours. Pidge only has one beer before switching to sweet tea, and Lance is a little relieved. He has no idea what drunk Pidge would be like and he’d rather not find out this weekend - he would be cash money that she’d be ornery as hell. Hunk orders some delivery from their favorite noodle place when Lance isn’t paying attention. Keith looks happy as a kid on Christmas with a giant bowl of pho in front of him, and Lance learns that Vietnamese food is his favorite.
They move inside once the sun goes down to keep from bothering the neighbors. Lance settles into a corner of the faded couch, and is too tired to panic when Keith sits next to him. Hunk launches into a story about his last term at school when he almost blew the breaker for the entire engineering building and Lance tries to pay attention, but he’s worn out and Keith is radiating heat like a furnace. Combine that with his full stomach and a couple of beers and he’s so, so sleepy.
Someone is calling his name and Lance inhales sharply, eyes fluttering open. It was Hunk, who’s smiling at him from across the coffee table. Lance is leaning on something warm and solid. He rubs his eyes and looks up.
He was leaning on Keith.
Lance’s eyes bug out but Keith just looks down at him with this tiny smile and a blush on his cheeks. Lance suddenly feels like the room is a million degrees as he carefully sits up.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out.”
Keith laughs softly. “It’s fine.”
They all start to wrap up their stories and conversations. Lance doesn’t know what time it is but it feels late, and since they want to hit the fair tomorrow, they should all get some sleep. Hunk offers to drive home and Lance hands him the keys as Keith, Shiro, and Allura wave goodbye from the front porch.
He almost falls asleep again in the ten minutes it takes Hunk to drive them back to their apartment. Lance helps set up the pull-out sofa, then goes to brush his teeth. He’s practically nodding off at the bathroom sink when Pidge comes up to him and pulls out her phone.
“Thought you should see this,” she says, holding it up.
On the screen is a photo of Keith, and, with his head resting on Keith’s shoulder dead asleep, Lance. Keith is looking down at him and definitely blushing.
The toothbrush stills in Lance’s mouth as he swipes the phone from Pidge’s hand, using his thumbs to pull and zoom. Keith was smiling.
“Please send this to me immediately,” Lance tells her, words muffled from the toothbrush still hanging from between his teeth.
He’s in bed setting his alarm when he gets the text from Pidge with the photo attached. And if Lance hugs a pillow and kicks his feet a little at the sight, who could blame him?
.
Continued in part 6!
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basementsushi · 4 years ago
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Nekyia
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--^ from this prompt I wrote the short story below, entitled Nekyia. Enjoy!--
I did it! My EMT training is complete, I’m licensed and ready to go, and I officially start my new job on Monday, just over two weeks from now. I got this little notebook at the store today to write that down, to make it feel more real. I did it mom, I did it.
I feel like I should explain. I don’t know why, I can’t imagine anyone else will read this. Mom was an EMT too, a volunteer one in the rural town she grew up and lived in. That’s where she met dad too, after she saved his life after a gun accident. Dad always called her “Angel” after that, because at the hospital doctor’s were surprised he had survived, and he always credited mom’s care with his survival.
Mom passed away when I was really little. I don’t even remember her, aside from pictures and stories, I was only three at the time. From the time I was little I decided to become an EMT, just like her, to honor her memory I suppose, though over time I found myself just as passionate about it as she was (at least, according to my aunt). 
And now I’ve finally done it! I just wish mom and dad were still here with me to celebrate. Dad passed just a couple of years after mom, and I lived with my aunt Camille after that until I was 18. She took me out to dinner yesterday to celebrate, and gave me a necklace my mom apparently always wore, that my dad had wanted me to have one day. I don’t even know how to describe it, it’s a little metal charm almost, in an odd shape I’ve never seen before, strung on a dark, thin cord. I feel closer to her with it though, and have started keeping it in my wallet wherever I go.
Wow, that’s more than I’ve written in a journal than… well, I think ever. And chances are I won’t write here again. I’m going to try, but my track record with these things is pretty bad. I wanted to make sure I did at least something to remember finally reaching my goal.
-----
Well, I’m surprised to be picking this thing up again. It’s been over a month since I wrote in it last, and I’ve been at my job about three weeks so far. Nothing too weird has happened, though it has been a bit of an adjustment, until today, and I just had to write about it.
We were responding to a call today, for an older man who had collapsed in the middle of a grocery store, of a suspected heart attack. By the time we got there he was unresponsive, wasn’t breathing, and we couldn’t find a pulse. I really didn’t think he was going to make it, it took us too long to get there I thought.
I started CPR anyway, as well as rescue breathing, while the ambulance was prepared, hoping he would start breathing. I could hardly believe it when he did! We seemed to have him almost stabilized before we even had him on the ambulance. 
That wasn’t even the weirdest part for me. The weirdest part was the first thing he said when we were getting him onto the ambulance. I suspected he was hispanic before, but when I recognized he was speaking Spanish that confirmed it. I didn’t understand what he said to me at the time, but a coworker translated it for me later. He looked right at me and said “eres un ángel”, which means “you are an angel”. 
It’s so weird. The same thing dad called mom after she miraculously saved him. It almost feels like a message from mom, like she’s letting me know I did a good job. I pulled her necklace out of my wallet to look at some today. I still have no idea if it means anything, but it makes me feel better to have around.
-----
I guess I’m going to write in this little notebook a lot more than I thought. In the two weeks since I last wrote there was another case where the patient, from what we could tell, should have died, but after care (I administered some of it), miraculously survived. Especially after others heard about what the elderly hispanic gentleman said the nickname “Angel” has spread for me. 
I should feel glad, I’m helping people, just like mom. But instead I feel… uneasy. Especially this week, but starting around when I saved the hispanic man, I’ve been seeing this man around a lot. He’s the kind of person I don’t think I’d normally notice, a bit taller than average, brown eyes, dark hair. Nothing about him stands out. But the look in his eyes, the fact that I’ve seen him just looking at me, often when I’m arriving to help patients… I could swear he’s following me. And…
No, it’s too silly to write here. I think I just need more sleep, I’ve been so busy with my new job, studying on the side, and all the other things I’m doing. Maybe I need to drop a hobby or something so I can sleep more.
-----
I keep seeing it. Him. The man I wrote about. It’s only been a few days since I last wrote here, but I’ve seen him almost every day. Sometimes looking at me, sometimes just passing by. And I swear I’ve seen wings on him. I’d seen it before, but I thought it was just a lack of sleep. Stress. I don’t know what to think anymore. 
Even Nina (my dog, I realize I haven’t written about her before) is acting like something is off. She’s normally very calm, but every time I get home from work she gets super agitated, and takes ages to calm down and come near me again. Maybe she doesn’t like the smell of the disinfectant from work? I don’t feel like that’s it though, she didn’t start doing this until recently.
Work is still going well at least. I really feel like I’m making a difference. We’ve had less fatalities than usual, which is always good news. I just hope the rest of this weirdness goes away soon.
-----
I’m having Mark (my coworker) drive me home most days now, instead of taking the bus. He found it weird that I finally took him up on his offer, and I probably wouldn’t have, if not for yesterday.
The man, the strange one? I saw him on the bus yesterday on the way home. With nothing else to do on the trip I finally looked at him a bit more, especially all the random symbols on his jacket. I hadn’t looked directly at it before, I hadn’t realized…
On his right sleeve, on the arm, near the shoulder, is the symbol. The same one on mom’s necklace. I took it out of my wallet for the first time in a couple of weeks to hold, and I swear it felt cold. It freaked me out, I don’t want to run into him ever again, especially not alone.
-----
It’s been a week since the bus incident. I’m shaking right now, after what happened today, but I have to write it down, to make it feel more, real? To record it? I don’t even know.
It’s my day off. I’d normally sleep in later, but Nina woke me up around seven barking like mad at the front door. I groggily got up, went to the door, and through the peephole saw the man, the one who had been following me.
I think I was tired, or in shock, or just done with it all, but I opened the door, and he quietly stepped inside. Just a step, not even enough that I could close the door behind him. When he started to speak, he just sounded… odd. Something about his voice, I can’t figure out how to describe it. 
Everything he said, it made no sense. He talked about ceasing the ancient arts? He made it sound like I was messing something up, but I have no idea what he meant. He even mentioned mom, saying she had done this too, and I didn’t want to keep going down her path, that the “arts passed down in your family lead to delayed grief, they don’t eliminate it”. 
Then he just left. I don’t know what to do. I eventually found Nina hiding in my room, and am just sitting here on the floor with her now, writing down what happened. Do I call the police? What would I even tell them? 
-----
He’s giving me time to write, just before he takes me. I have to write quickly. He was able to show me memories - of my mother, of my family before her, our ancestors further back than I recognize. The necklace (rather, the talisman), it’s older than I thought, passed down for generations.
Angel. Ironic, isn’t it? My mom was no angel, neither was I. Just the latest in a long line of… I can’t even believe it. Necromancers. The miracles, the lives saved… they won’t even stay saved. We only delayed the inevitable, until this man could track them down again, to take them, just like he’s taking me now. 
Most have times they have to go. The hispanic man. My dad. It’s no wonder he died so shortly after mom, she wasn’t around to bring him back anymore. And because mom and I upset the balance of things, and didn’t stop when warned (I don’t think either of us understood the warning), we’re being taken too. And the people I saved, the miracles… soon they’ll be taken too.
He’s starting to nod at me, I know we’re going soon. He’s said he’ll make it quick, just like mom. He doesn’t want me to suffer, his job is just to guide us to where we go. He promises Nina’s time isn’t yet, apparently my aunt will find her very soon.
I almost can’t believe it. This all sounds so silly. I wouldn’t have even believed him, but… the wings I thought I saw. I see them clearly now. And I feel sleepy, I can’t write much longer. He said his brother’s blessing will make it not hurt, all I have to do is drift off to sleep. I tried mom, I hope I made you proud. It’s hard to hold my pen up, I think I’m coming to see you soo-
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bronanlynch · 4 years ago
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I enjoyed doing this last week so this is. a thing now I guess. click through for roundup of whatever media I’ve been into in the past week (will normally be on thursdays I think bc that’s the day I’m usually free but my schedule this week was weird) (inspired by the tuesday again thing that @girlfriendsofthegalaxy does)
listening: the new Mountain Goats album Getting Into Knives is very fun and full of bops, for a given value of both “fun” and “bops” because it’s The Mountain Goats so it does have that edge of depression but quite a few of the songs are a bit more. cheerful? than a lot of their other stuff, for lack of a better word
favorite track is probably The Rat Queen
listening (podcast edition): this very fun episode of Overinvested tearing apart the new movie adaptation of Rebecca which I have not seen and was not planning on seeing but I do enjoy people smartly analyzing why things aren’t good and also I do love discussions about Gothic romance
reading: The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall is probably a very good book that someone else will enjoy very much, as lots of people whose opinions I generally trust already have enjoyed it. and I possibly will enjoy more if I give it another chance, once I’ve gotten over being disappointed that it wasn’t what I was looking for right now. the premise is neat! the worldbuilding is cool! the characters are interesting! mermaids, witches, and seas are three of my favorite things and also there are pirates, my other fave thing!
the reason I bounced off of it so hard is that I kept seeing it hyped up as a trans/nonbinary book, and then felt kinda let down when I started reading it and realized that the main character whom I’ve seen described as genderqueer is 1) dressing as a guy because someone else suggested it for safety reasons and 2) this was several years before the story starts and this character still refers to herself exclusively (disclaimer that I didn’t read the full thing but. as far as I got and also I skimmed toward the ending) as she and by her feminine birthname. and those things are fine, that’s a valid gender story, nonbinary people can absolutely keep their old pronouns and names and it doesn’t make them any less nonbinary, but the way it was framed in the parts that I read felt to me more like the old classic ‘girl dresses as guy for plot reasons’ thing, which isn’t something I personally wanted to read more of right now, especially not when I went in expecting something that would resonate more with my gender experience
watching: I’ve been rewatching Leverage, since I only ever watched the first season many years ago because that’s what was free on hulu at the time, and the thing that’s really getting to me is how fundamentally hopeful it is. like, yeah, sure, the premise of it is about how capitalism is designed to fuck people over and there is A Lot about specifically health insurance being really really awful. so there are parts of it that are a lil bit too real, but then at the end of the day they always win and punish the rich capitalists and help their victims and it’s just. nice to see that kind of happy ending
the specific episode I’m having lots of thoughts about is the Mile High Job, which is about the team is trying to protect a potential corporate whistleblower from being murdered by her coworker while on an airplane. at first they’re not sure what’s going on because they weren’t expecting two people from the corporation to be on that flight, so they don’t know which person is the one they should be focusing on. one of them is an anxious younger woman and the other is an extremely generic man, and from the moment they decided that the woman was the one they had to protect I was dreading the plot twist of “no actually you just helped her take out her target and you should’ve been protecting the other guy” which would’ve felt just. so mean-spirited and cynical but it’s the kind of thing I expect from media I guess. and then once it was clear that nope, that twist wasn’t going to happen, I expected her to turn around at the end and be like “actually no I’m not gonna testify against the corporation because I’ve realized how dangerous it is.” and I kind of hate that I’ve become so jaded by both media and also the real world that I’m so ready to expect the most cynical option, because I’m not used to stories about how even though the system is corrupt and oppressive and exploitative, people can still help each and they do and sometimes they make things better
playing: got back into playing Dishonored after taking a couple weeks off because I got stuck and frustrated and also kept playing for too long at a time and giving myself headaches. Lady Boyle’s Last Party (which I am going to completely and entirely spoil so if you don’t want that this is your warning) is probably the mission that I have the strongest mixed feelings about. I love the approach to the party, I love the concept of sneaking into a masquerade ball, I love signing the guestbook with your actual legal wanted fugitive name while wearing the mask that you commit all of your crimes in, I love a good fancy party mission I cannot stress that enough it’s the sexiest possible setting
HOWEVER. trying to sneak around upstairs fucking sucks because the ceilings aren’t high enough for there to be places to hide, like convenient hanging lamps or pipes to blink up to. my least favorite room in this entire game is that art gallery because you can get on top of the cases and you think you’re safe because you’re Up but then the guards spot you instantly and sound the alarm and the entire party shuts down and then you let them kill you so that you can go back to your last save
ADDITIONALLY, fuck the nonlethal option for this one. I hate it so much and feel so incredibly gross about choosing it but I also feel extremely not great about tricking her into meeting me alone and then actually assassinating her. the conversation is so uncomfortable that I tried to be like “actually no nevermind” which causes her to think you’re weird and creepy and she has the guards ““throw you out”“ which apparently in Dunwall is just how you say that she’s gonna have the guards murder you. but anyway. she's a shitty rich lady but she doesn't deserve either of the things that could happen to her and she's only a target because she's sleeping w a guy who sucks. she hasn’t done anything! she isn’t actually responsible for what happened to Jessamine or Emily! which works on a narrative level in my opinion because this is the last mission before you go after the lord regent and it’s becoming clear that the loyalists are just using Corvo for their own agenda and don’t actually care about Jessamine. but it’s still unpleasant to be the one enacting it, y’know?
also on a narrative level, I really like the concept of doing a clean hands run except killing each of the actual targets, because I feel like that would be a cool inversion of the trope where the hero kills a bunch of mooks and then refuses to kill the big bad because murder is wrong. on a gameplay level, I’m still gonna do the nonlethal options because I refuse to risk getting the bad ending, and I’m proud of the fact that I haven’t killed anyone since getting out of prison. I do wanna do a high chaos playthrough at some point though just to see how it goes, since I went low chaos last time too
sorry for writing an entire essay about Dishonored but. the funniest thing from that mission is that apparently if you get spotted by one of the maids in the basement where you are not supposed to be (the guards will immediately attack if they see you) instead of raising the alarm she just says “welcome to the party.” love that solidarity.
making: none of my cosplay stuff is at an especially picture-worthy stage and I didn’t get pictures of the pesto I made for dinner last night so there’s not gonna be much that’s interesting here but I did go to Spirit Halloween after Halloween when everything was on clearance and got a bunch of stuff that I’m gonna use for cosplay eventually
writing: soon I will finish the Eddis/Attolia Queen’s Thief fic that’s been rattling around in my brain ever since I finished the last book. hopefully.
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