#me at my desk at night with the window open: absolutely SOAKED in sweat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theasstour · 4 years ago

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟏𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Monday, 25 September 2017

It was strange to Y/N that she was enjoying herself as much as she was just then in an educational setting. In school, she had never really liked any of the subjects besides English, and here at uni, she got to sit and listen to professors who were truly experts on English literature ramble on about Othello and specific analysis on act 3 scene 3. She loved every single second of it, and was sure she could sit there for hours on end just listening to her professors. At one point she was sure this would all get tiring and she’d hate University, but in that moment, hearing her professor, Richard, talk about things that truly interested her, was such a breath of fresh air compared to what she had experienced previously.

The door to the lecture hall opened, and since the doors were right by the blackboard where Richard stood talking about Othello and the ‘temptation’ scene, all eyes landed on the blonde girl in pink shorts and a white jumper. She smiled at Richard, mouthing a “sorry” before taking the first free seat she could find, which was conveniently right beside Y/N. The two girls shared a small smile themselves before Y/N went back to focusing on the lecture happening in front of her. Y/N was hunched over her notebook, writing something off from the PowerPoint slide displayed on the wall in front of her. She did not know how much time went by, she was listening too intently to care about that, but suddenly, the blonde beside her rested her back against the seat and leaned a little closer to Y/N.

“This is quite boring, innit?”

Y/N looked to her left, and to her surprise, realised that the girl who had walked in late was Chloe. The same Chloe who she had met when she registered a week and some ago. She must have been too caught up in the lecture to pay proper attention to her surroundings.

Chloe let out a small chuckle, nodding in the direction of the PowerPoint before she continued to whisper. “The lecture. I knew we’d be discussing Shakespeare in Introduction to English Studies, but Othello’s just fucking boring, innit?”

“I…” Y/N looked at the PowerPoint for a few seconds, then back at Chloe. “Sure.”

They were quiet for a few seconds, Chloe just studying Y/N, eyes searching her face. “You like Othello.”

Y/N felt a sudden urge to relate to Chloe. Since they had met earlier and since she hadn’t made tons of friends on her course yet, she wanted Chloe to be her mate. If they got off on the wrong foot today, they might never sit next to each other again.

“It’s not as good as Twelfth Night, not as bad as Julius Caesar.”

Chloe continued to just look at Y/N, but suddenly, a smile came creeping over her lips. “Take it you like Shakespeare.”

“I like analysing his work, yeah.”

“More of a Modernism, and sometimes Postmodernism, girl myself.”

“I’m not big on either of those.”

Chloe let out a small chuckle again. “You won’t be taking Postmodernism next year then?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Chloe only crossed her arms and stared ahead, still smiling. For a second Y/N was afraid she might have said something to make Chloe detest her, but the next, she reminded herself that she had to live her truth regardless of what anyone said about it. “Guess we’ll just have to enjoy each other’s company in the core modules then.”

Y/N felt a few butterflies in her stomach at that and could not help smiling back at Chloe when their eyes met again.

“How come I haven’t seen you at any Freshers parties yet?” Chloe asked.

“Been busy applying to jobs and such,” Y/N explained. “Gotta get one as fast as possible ‘cause I need money to live.”

“Ahh, fair.” Chloe nodded. “One of my course mates, Hayden – think they’re up there somewhere –“ Chloe pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, indicating further up the lecture hall. “Has decided they’re going to start an Uno society.”

“Uno?” Y/N frowned. “As in the card game?”

“Yeah,” Chloe laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be nice and all, but they’re very passionate about it. Have yet to come out with me, Thian, and Annalise. Those are my other course mates, by the way.”

Y/N nodded. Was she just incompetent at making friends or was Chloe just very good at it? How had she made so many friends, made a small group by the sounds of it, and Y/N had barely talked to anyone on her course yet?

“Hayden promised to come out this Friday, though,” Chloe smiled. “You should come, too.”

For some reason, both nerves and excitement rushed through Y/N at that. She smiled back. “I’d love that.”

“Wicked. It’s at my Dinwiddy flat.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Uni accommodation at Helmond is a huge piss take, I tell you. I feel like there’s mould everywhere.”

“That’s just UK houses in general. We’ll all die from it one day.”

“It’s literally disgusting,” Chloe said. “Also, one of my flatmates never does his dishes. It’s minging. And it’s started smelling, too.”

“Oh, my days.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad I just immediately moved in with my best mate instead of going through the whole uni accommodation thing. At least I can be assured that they do their dishes and no food’s left on the kitchen counter for too long.”

“Oh, that sounds lush.”

The people around Y/N and Chloe were all starting to pack their things and get out of their seats. Seeing as the two of them were sat by the edge of the row, they had to get up rather fast and let people through. So, that’s what they did. Y/N put her notebook and pencil case in her rucksack and slung it onto her back before she and Chloe made their way out of the lecture hall and out into the hallway beyond.

“There they are,” Chloe grinned, waving as she saw a small group of three standing by the wall a bit further down. “Come say hi.” Though Chloe wasn’t looking at her, Y/N assumed she was talking to her, so she followed her over to the rest. “Gang, this is Y/N, the one I met while we were both registering.”

“Ah, you’ll be Y/N, then,” a man with protruding cheekbones, a strong jawline, and deep set, brown eyes said. The Viet man’s smile lit up the room they were standing in, and it made Y/N’s overthinking ebb. “I’m Thian, pleasure to meet you. Chloe told us she met you, but never saw you since.”

“Proper rude of the universe to keep us away from each other for so long,” Chloe said.

“I’m Hayden,” a smaller person said with the greenest eyes and long brown hair. They too had a smile like Thian’s, but this one displayed crooked teeth, which made Y/N more at ease with her own bottom teeth that were the same.

“And I’m Annalise,” the last one said, her hair dyed an unnatural dark red colour that Y/N absolutely loved. “I think I saw you in a Critical Reading seminar.”

“Oh, yeah, I think we might be.”

“We’ll have to sit next to each other next time!”

Y/N could detect a slight accent, but she could not tell where Annalise was originally from. She suspected Germany, there were tons of international students here after all, but Y/N did not want to assume.

“Guys, we have to plan the first Uno society meeting,” Hayden said, looking at the time on their phone. “It was so nice to meet you, Y/N, but we’re in a bit of a hurry.”

She just smiled. “No, totes get that. I need to get back to my flat, anyway.”

“See you around, then,” Chloe smiled, waving as the four of them walked off.

Y/N walked home to Orsman Road. Though she knew there would be less walking if they took the tube, it would also mean that she had to walk on and off boiling hot tube trains and stations, and she was not about to do that. She was sweating enough in the late September sun as it was, she did not need the tube to contribute to her sweat moustache as well. Instead, she plugged her earbuds in and listened to her most recent playlist on Spotify, humming along to her favourite tunes as she walked.

She stopped by Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland station, buying herself a sausage roll and an iced latte before walking the rest of the stretch home. Hackney bustled around her, with tons of cars, double deckers, and mopeds driving by, as well as all types of people milling to and from work. The early autumn sun was still a little too hot, but it seemed like most Londoners were soaking up the sun while they could. They were walking by in shorts, tee shirts, and summer dresses, while the only reason why Y/N was dressed in her tee shirt and trousers, was so she would not quite literally go up in flames on the way home.

Y/N arrived at Orsman Road not long after her trip to Gregg’s, and walked up to the flat. She locked the door once she was indoors, checking the kitchen and the living room to see if anyone was there. To no one’s surprise, none of her three other student flatmates were home in the middle of the day on a Monday. She walked up the stairs and to her room, letting her door be open so she could air out a bit more. Her windows had been open all day, so her room smelled fresher than normal as she entered. That just reminded her that she had to buy some scented candles or air fresheners to liven up her room.

Putting her rucksack down by her door, Y/N started looking through the two bags that she had yet to pack out from. In one was most of the stuff she’d put on her desk when she finally bought that, and in the other were loads of decorations that she had yet to bring forth. She started pulling out fairylights that she wanted to hang across her room or over her wall, when she heard footsteps. Out of the door directly to the right once you came up the stairs, came a man with short dark hair and a strong build, thin lips and pale skin. He must have heard movements outside his door, because his eyes landed on Y/N almost right away. However, he smiled at her and Y/N immediately knew who this was.

“You’re Y/N, then,” Mason said, walking over to stand in the doorway of her room. “Mason, your third flatmate.”

“Thought I’d never run into you,” Y/N smiled, making his smile grow.

“Yeah, got here like two days ago, and have been all over the place since. Helped some of my mates move into their flats, been at work, and at rugby practice.”

She nodded. “Busy man.”

“Very busy.”

“Lucky I caught you now, then.”

Mason nodded his head. “Would have eventually. Knowing Nath, he’ll probably end up forcing us all to bond as a flat at one point.”

“Sounds horrific.”

“It was. It will be,” Mason laughed, leaning against the doorframe and pushing his hands into his grey joggers.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “It was? He’s done it before?”

“Yeah, our first year. He made everyone in our flat bond, he especially talked about flat yoga sessions and shopping trips when he was drunk or high as a kite.”

She dropped the fairylights and turned her full attention on Mason. “You lived together your first year?”

Mason just looked at Y/N, blinking a few times. “Yeah.”

“All three of you?”

“All three of us. Me, Nathan, Harry, and like five girls.”

Y/N felt like screaming, but lucky for her dignity and Mason’s ears, the front door opened and closed. Nathan’s singing could be heard all the way upstairs. Instead of screaming, Y/N called Nathan’s name, not caring that Mason saw just how annoyed she was now. Poor bloke had no idea what he’d just said. Nathan strolled up the stairs and looked in Y/N’s room’s direction, his face lit up at the sight of Mason and Y/N together.

“What a view!” he grinned. “What’re you two bonding over?”

“Right now we’re bonding over being your friend,” Y/N said.

“Which I’m sure you’re both honoured to be, yes.”

“And I just heard you’ve lived with Mason and Harry for the last year, but have not told me,” Y/N said, ignoring Nathan’s previous comment.

Nathan looked to Mason, and then back at Y/N. “No, Harry moved in later. He lived in another flat first, hated it, and since him and Mason were good mates, he got to move into our place since one of our flatmates dropped out our first week.”

Not caring that she would smudge her makeup, Y/N ran her hands over her face. “How long did he live there, Nate?”

Silence for a second or two. “Start of second semester till we moved out.”

Y/N let go of a heavy sigh. “Nathan, why didn’t you just tell me?-“

“-I know, I know, I know,” Nathan started, walking into Y/N’s room and sitting down on the floor beside her. “I’m a shite friend.”

“You really fucking are,” Y/N said, swatting Nathan’s hand away when he tried to take hers. “Harry was both of our friend when he lived in Notts those months, and I literally had sex with him.”

Mason took a small step back in pure shock, blinking rapidly as if an eyelash fell onto his eye.

“Don’t I have a right to know you’re living with him?” Y/N asked.

“You do. Of course, you do. I just… I thought I told you at one point, and when I got home and I found out I hadn’t told you… I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“How about just telling me?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “Instead of hiding it from me like that.”

“Technically, I didn’t hide anything ‘cause I thought I-“

“-Nathan, I’ll literally skin you alive-“

“-Fine, I should have told you,” he groaned, taking her hand this time and holding it tight in his. “How can I make it up to you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, but came up with the perfect solution. “By coming with me when I go out with my course mates on Friday?”

Nathan just looked at her, blinking once. “My punishment is to… go out with you and your mates?”

“Yes. I barely know them, I need moral support. No matter how bad the person giving me said support actually is.”

Nathan looked down at their hands, patting hers slightly. “I’ll come.”

“Thanks.”

He continued to look down at their hands as Mason’s quiet footsteps back to his room sounded throughout the first floor. “I do have a lecture that finishes at 7pm-“

“-You’ll skip that lecture if you so have to.-”

“-Yes, ma’am,” Nathan answered without hesitation, kissing her hand and getting up from the floor. He gave her a small smile. “And I’m sorry. I know I should’ve told you.”

Y/N nodded. “Is there… Is there more you haven’t told me? In regards to Harry?”

Nathan pretended to think for a few seconds, eyes getting big as if he remembered something.

“Nath?”

He chuckled. “No, nothing.”

Y/N hit him on his calf before he walked away. “You’re bloody buying the first round of drinks on Friday.”

“As I should,” was all Nathan said before he danced off to his room. Y/N picked up her fairylights again, trying to get them out of the messy tangle they were currently in so she could finally make this room look like her and her new home.

Friday, 29 September 2017

Y/N was nervous. She was usually nervous before going someplace she had never been before, or to meet people she had never met, but it was never like this. Her nerves were almost always drowned by her natural eagerness to be around people, to be surrounded by friends and strangers. However, this, her first pre-drinks at uni with other people, had her feeling a little too nervous for her own tastes.

She loved parties. Fuck, if she could party every single day, she would. She did not care about the hangover that came the following day, as long as she had a good time the night before. At home in Nottingham, she would have loved to party as much as she had in London, but for some reason, meeting as many new people as she had, made her nervous for some reason. It was weird to Y/N because she loved making friends, but it was different here. She had yet to figure out what about University that triggered this reaction out of her.

A knock sounded at her door and she grunted, which Nathan took as a good enough sign for him to be allowed entrance. He grinned, sitting down on Y/N’s fluffy dark blue duvet cover and looked his best friend up and down.

“Lush,” he said.

Y/N glanced at the mirror in front of her again, running her hands down her sides. Her black ruched detail ribbed crop top fit her perfectly, making her tits look exceptionally good, and the gold necklace and earrings topped it all off. The crop jeans in light wash blue were tightened at the waist by a black belt with silver eyelets, the black lace up boots made her almost as tall as Nathan. Though Y/N had been out on town in Nottingham with this very same outfit, she was unsure about it now. There was a familiar fear in the back of her head; one that had not visited in a while, one that would lay low until it saw fit to paralyse her. Y/N was experiencing only the tip of the iceberg now. The rest would reveal itself later, it would all melt and drown her in nervous ticks and anxious tendencies.

God, she hated how nervous she was. This was not like her at all. Nathan knew this, which was why he picked up on how unusually quiet his best friend was. He got up from where he was seated on the bed, walking over to Y/N and placing his hands on her shoulders.

“What’s up?”

She took a deep breath, looking at him in the mirror. “You remember the party at Jack Lloyd’s?”

“When we were 17?”

“Yeah, and I was nervous to wear that tight-fitting dress? ‘Cause of my stomach?”

“Yes, even though you had no reason to be nervous.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m feeling like that now,” she admitted. “Not as intensely, but it’s there and… I haven’t felt this nervous about being seen in a long time.”

“What do you mean ‘being seen’?”

“When… When you’ve had and still have a hard time accepting yourself, it’s hard to let others look at your body ‘cause you don’t want to exist outside your own head, if that makes sense? Being seen means people will have an opinion, it means they’ll piece together this image of you before even getting to know you. It means them judging you on your looks alone before they get to actually know you.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders a little, Nathan squeezing them ever so slightly. “My confidence is much better now, but I still have those moments every so often when that 17-year-old girl I used to be will come back and whisper something discouraging into my ear.”

Nathan nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck and bringing her to him. She melted into her best friend, taking a grip of his forearms. “I know it’s much easier said than done, but focus on now. You’ve come so far, and though that 17-year-old is part of the reason why you are who you are today, she’s got nothing to do here. 19-year-old Y/N has come so far, she has no time revisiting the past ‘cause she’s going to a party tonight, and it’ll be fucking fantastic, yeah?”

Y/N chuckled, closing her eyes as Nathan planted an encouraging kiss to her cheek. “Guess you’re right.”

“Of course I fucking am.”

She laughed.

“Now, get your vodka, tequila, sourz, or whatever the fuck you’re drinking, and let’s go.” Nathan let go of her and walked to the door, opening it. “You got Chloe’s address?”

“Yeah, it’s Dinwiddy, flat 10.”

“Uni accommodation?”

Y/N huffed, reaching for her purse and putting it over her shoulder. “Did you expect my first-year mates to live anywhere else?”

“Not really. Dunno why I’m shocked.”

Y/N searched through her purse, checking she had everything she needed before reaching for her plastic bag where her drinks were.

“Still remember when I lived in Coopers Court with Harry and Mason. Oh, how time flies.”

Y/N stopped short, narrowing her eyes. “I still cannot believe you didn’t tell me anything about you living in the same flat as Harry your first year at uni.”

Nathan sighed.

“Cannot believe you didn’t tell me he went to Helmond. Cannot believe you wanted us to live together without at least informing me-“

“-Mate, are we done with this?”

“Don’t think I’ll ever be done. You tricked me into this.”

“I did not.”

“What did you think was gonna happen when I found out?”

“We’ve been over this,” Nathan said. “I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal. Harry did not react like this when I told him I promised to live with you my second year, your first year.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, having already heard this.

“In fact, he did not mind one bit living with you.”

“I mind living with him.”

“Clearly, or else we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.”

Y/N tutted, walking past Nathan and down the stairs. “I’ll let this argument be for the time being, but expect me to pick it back up again tomorrow when my mind’s not all over the place. I want to be able to fucking destroy you.”

“Great. Can’t wait.”

Y/N and Nathan started walking in the direction of Dinwiddy, the biggest uni accommodation at Helmond, where most students ended up staying. Parmiter Street was a mere 30-minute walk away, and though they could have easily taken the tube, they both knew that it would be best for them to get some fresh air before drinking. Y/N also wanted to walk off some of her anxiety, though she was fairly certain that would not happen. On one hand she was looking forward to meeting Chloe and the rest of her English Lit gang, on the other, she was nervous. Her nerves came more from fear of experiencing the same blinding anxiety she had when she was younger, for that same feeling of helplessness and bottomlessness that it had brought her. What if it appeared when she was drinking? What if it got worse as she got drunk?

She hated how moving away to London and to University had brought her so much doubt. It was like she had to figure out who she was all over again. Here, it was only Nathan who knew her. Well… him and Harry, but the latter did not count. If Y/N so wanted, she could become a new version of herself. She knew that was something uni offered; finding a new you and shaping it into a person you want to be. There were several things Y/N wished she could change about herself. She had a horrible temper, was a little too loud at times, took many things far too personal, and more. She was unsure how much independence and a new environment could help make her a better version of herself, but she hoped Helmond and London could help her to some degree.

Once they arrived at Parmiter Street, Nathan walked straight onto Dinwiddy campus grounds and showed them the way to flat 10. The brown brick buildings rose five storeys high around them, shaping a small T formation with some benches along the stone path where people could sit on the few occasions when the weather would allow it. Nathan had been there the year before, loads of his friends from his Criminology course had lived at Dinwiddy accommodation and therefore hosted pre-drinks there. Nathan knew his way around, and, sure enough, he showed them right to flat 10. On the right hand-side, the first building, Nathan strolled over to the entrance.

He met Y/N’s eyes, trying to get a picture of just how nervous she was. After all, these were her friends, and had they been home in Nottingham, she would not have been this nervous at all. Nathan was not anxious at all, and he had never talked to – never met – Chloe or any of Y/N’s course mates.

“Listen,” Nathan said, giving Y/N a small smile. “If it gets too much, we’ll just go home, yeah? I won’t leave your side.”

Y/N smiled back, nodding her head. “Yeah. I’ll send Chloe a text saying we’re here.”

“We could just ring the doorbell.”

She looked at him. “Nath.”

“Y/N.”

“What were phones invented for if we’re just gonna ring people’s doorbells? I’m sending her a text.”

Nathan reached forward and rang the doorbell, making Y/N raise her eyebrows at him and take a deep breath as not to throw him against the brick building.

“Yes?” came from the speakers beside the doorbells. It was Chloe.

Nathan nudged Y/N, nodding in the direction of the speakers. She glared at him. “It’s Y/N.”

“Ahh, brill!” Chloe unlocked the door for them and Nathan opened it, letting Y/N enter first. They walked over to the stairs, looking at a sign there that showed them flat 10 at the topmost storey.

“They don’t even have a bloody lift, do they?” Y/N asked Nathan as she looked around.

“Gotta walk, mate.”

“Fuck me,” Y/N groaned as they began their ascent.

“I’d rather not.”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed a bit. They made it to the fourth floor, and Y/N knocked on the door as Nathan breathed heavily beside her.

“Hi,” Chloe smiled as she opened the door, stepping aside to let Y/N and Nathan in.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart beat hard inside her chest. Something about Chloe’s smile, the reminder that she had invited Y/N over, that she wanted her there, settled atop Y/N’s shoulders, making them sag to a comfortable level. “Brought my housemate, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” Chloe said, turning to Nathan.

“Nathan,” he smiled. “Thanks for letting me come here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chloe said, closing the door and showing them the way down a corridor towards the shared living space where a heavy bass was throbbing. The fluorescent lights overhead in the hallway resembled those at a petrol station, making Y/N squint as she entered the living room. There sat everyone she had the pleasure of meeting earlier that week. Hayden, Annalise, and Thian were all around the table with a glass each to drink. Y/N smiled at them, waving her hand as they all grinned back at her. She still felt like she was intruding.

“Y/N, Nathan, do you like sambuca?” Chloe asked, walking over to the kitchen bench to fetch plastic shot glasses.

“Never say no to sambuca, ey?” Nathan grinned, nodding for Y/N to go sit down so he could follow her lead. “We’ll have a shot each of you’re handing out.”

“I am, indeed,” Chloe said, getting two shot glasses and walking over to the table, placing the glasses in front of Nathan who looked absolutely ecstatic.

“Thanks, babe,” Y/N said.

“You lot playing a drinking game?” Nathan asked, getting his drinks out to mix them all together into his paper cup.

“Yeah, we’re playing Never Have I Ever,” Hayden answered. “However, if no one drinks, everyone’s got to take a sip except for the person asking, but the person asking’s gotta take two if no one drinks.”

“Ahh, alright,” Nathan said. “Creative. Love it.”

“This is Y/N’s friend, Nathan, by the way, guys,” Chloe said as she came back over with shots for everyone.

“Oh, yeah, this is Nathan. He’s a second-year, we live in a flat together in Haggerston.” Y/N suddenly felt stupid for not introducing him right away so that Chloe had to. She felt her cheeks heat up, but she refused to look like she felt headless. Instead, she got her vodka and cranberry juice out, mixing it as Nathan spoke beside her.

“We’ve known each other forever, so she moved in with me and my flatmates this year instead of moving into uni accommodation,” he elaborated.

“You knew each other in Nottingham?” Chloe asked, and, for some reason, the fact that Chloe remembered that made Y/N feel all kinds of warm.

“Yeah, been best friends for years.”

“How nice that you got to live together here,” Chloe smiled in Nathan’s direction, then at Y/N.

“It is, isn’t it?” Nathan said, looking at Y/N and giving her a small wink before going back to his drink.

“Right, we need to take advantage of being first-years and get drunk as often as possible,” Thian said. “So, tonight needs to be good.”

“It’ll be good regardless,” Annalise retorted, taking one of the shots from the tray Chloe had brought to the table.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Hayden asked.

Thian nodded. “Pub or club?”

“Don’t really feel like clubbing tonight, you know what I mean?” Chloe asked, the other three coming with exclamations of agreement or nodding slightly. “Pub then?”

“We have a pub right by us,” Nathan said. “Only 30 minutes away and it’s the best one in Haggerston, in my opinion anyway.”

Y/N wrinkled her nose some. “The Stag’s Head?”

“Yeah, it’s always full and they sometimes got live music and everything.”

“We could go there, yeah,” Chloe said. “If everyone’s in.”

“Could we take a bus there?” Hayden asked.

“30 minutes isn’t a long walk, though,” Chloe chuckled. “As long as Nathan and Y/N show the way, we won’t get lost.”

“Don’t count on my navigational skills when I’m under the influence, babes,” Nathan said, making the others laugh.

“We’re better off using Google Maps, he might just show the way to the Gregg’s by Dalston Kingsland where he thinks the entire staff’s got a crush on him,” Y/N said before taking a sip of her drink, laughter erupting again. It felt good, like a pat on the shoulder, and Y/N instantly eased. Maybe she had not lost her old self at all, maybe she could still feel at ease, even around new people.

“They all flirt with me, and who can blame them?” Nathan shrugged his shoulders, whipping his head to the side so his lush, curly red hair dangled at the top of his head, grinning his wide smile and making the lip piercing shine in the fluorescent lights overhead.

The rest of the night went on, and it was easier to talk to everyone as time progressed. Not only because Y/N got more and more intoxicated, but she also just felt better after getting to know them all. Hayden always laughed the loudest, and their laughter was also very infectious, making it hard not to chuckle along with them. Annalise, though she sometimes stuttered over a few English words, was incredibly considerate and would urge Y/N to continue on with her story when others did not hear her. Thian offered Y/N tons of shots and complimented her on her outfit, making it easier for Y/N to feel good and seen, as she had been terrified of back at the flat. Chloe was easily the boss, and did most of the talking, though no one seemed to mind. After all, Chloe had introduced everyone to everyone, so people knew her the best out of everyone.

As time went on, Y/N just felt better. It was easier to talk to everyone and, at one point, she thought she was back at home in Nottingham, introducing herself to strangers at a party. They all made it easy to forget just how nervous she had been. It made her look forward to seeing them in her other lectures and seminars the coming week and all those weeks after that. Maybe these were the people she would spend her time at University with, and that excited her.

Bottles emptied and the volume inside the uni flat had increased massively. It was close to 9 when Chloe suggested they leave, and assured Y/N that she could leave the little she had left of her vodka at her place to pick up another day. Y/N took her up on the offer, insides warm from both alcohol and Chloe’s hospitality.

Nathan showed the way towards Haggerston and The Stag’s Head, arm entwined with Y/N’s for most of the way there. At one point however, Y/N let go of him and ended up walking beside Annalise and Thian, talking about one of the texts they had to read by Tuesday. It was such a mundane conversation, complaining about course work and talking about coming deadlines, that it felt like they had been mates for ages. The chat flowed so easily, the laughter rolled off their tongues, and it just made sense for all of them to be together, walking along the dark London streets in their tipsy states, making their way towards what would hopefully be the first of many trips to a pub.

They arrived at Orsman Road and they could hear The Stag’s Head before they saw it. Y/N had never paid it much attention. She knew she would end up popping by once or twice during her time at uni, but she had not envisioned her checking it out that first week. Nathan held the door open for everyone, resting a hand at Y/N’s back as he followed her indoors last.

The pub was small, but Y/N was sure that it was bigger than it appeared late on a Friday evening. Straight ahead, in a V formation, stood the bar, a wall filled with bottles of all alcohol imaginable behind it, lit up by red light which fit the dark red of the counter surrounding it. Far down to the left, it seemed the rest of the pub disappeared from view, but judging by the stairs Y/N could see, she supposed there was a loo somewhere in that direction, and it also looked to be where one could go to reach the smoking area. People were both sat and stood by the bar as well as booths along the walls. What appeared to be the stage further down to the right was unoccupied by any performers, though a few lads stood there with a pint each. There were no free tables, and this put a damper on the mood quite quickly.

Nathan, however, pulled them all towards the smoking area and they were all pleasantly surprised to see a free table and two benches untouched. Fairylights hung over the outdoor space, from the house and over to the fence on the other side. It lit up just enough, made it possible to see, but not too bright for people to squint when walking out into the night. A few empty pints and a smoky ash tray stood in the middle of the table, but Nathan put the glasses on the brick fence before everyone sat down.

“Alright, I’ll pay for your drink,” Nathan said, smiling at Y/N. “Anyone wanna come to the bar? Y/N’ll watch the table.”

“Ah, yes.” Chloe got up, the rest of the gang following along and walking towards one of the two entrances to the pub. Y/N got her phone out, looking to see if she had any notifications she had to check out, but there were none. She was about to resolve to scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, when she heard a slightly familiar voice.

“Hi there.” Mason sat down on the edge of the opposite bench, a cigarette in hand and a small smile on his lips. “Didn’t know you and Nath would come here tonight.”

“Oh, hiya,” Y/N smiled. “No, we didn’t know where we’d go after pre-drinks. He suggested this place, so we brought some of my course mates with us here.”

“You going out later?”

“No, think we’re just gonna stay here.”

“Yeah, this is a chill place,” Mason said, puffing out some smoke.

“This is my first time here.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Is it?”

Y/N smiled. “You think I should’ve come here earlier?”

“More to do with the fact that our flat just loves this place, thought Nathan would’ve at least taken you here already.”

“He did now.”

“It’s my favourite pub around here, and Harry-“

“-Mase!” Nathan exclaimed, grinning as he came over with two gin and tonics. “You’re here as well!”

“Yeah, it’s a Friday night, innit?”

“Hi,” Chloe said, sitting down beside Mason with a wide grin on her face. It seemed like she wanted to introduce herself or to be introduced, but before Y/N could say anything, the conversation resumed.

“Hey,” Mason answered, looking back to Nathan who seemed to be ecstatic to see one of his flatmates. “Hear you haven’t taken Y/N here till now.”

Nathan sighed. “Not like I didn’t want to, just haven’t gotten the opportunity.”

“What’s so good about this place?” Y/N asked, looking from Nathan to Mason.

“Just close, innit? Also, it’s crowded, but it’s not as crowded as most pubs down by Kingsland Road,” Nathan elaborated.

“You lot have a good night, yeah? Need to get back to my mates.” Mason leaned past Chloe, stumping the rest of his cigarette into the ashtray before he got up, walking over to a big group of lads. Chloe stared after him as the rest of the conversation around the table started back up again, Y/N pretended to not see how she was checking him out. It felt like she was intruding on a moment that was not meant for anyone but Mason to see.

“You’re living with him?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah.”

“He’s well fit.”

“Guess.”

Chloe giggled. “You’re taking the rule to not shag one of your flatmates seriously, then?”

“Shouldn’t everyone?” Thian asked, furrowing his brows. “It only complicates everything.”

“How? It’s only a shag. It’s not like you’re gonna fall in love with them,” Chloe said.

“Can’t really control your emotions, though.” Nathan shrugged. “Two of my flatmates last year shagged. He had feelings for her, she just wanted a one night stand. Didn’t end well.”

Y/N put her drink back down on the table after a long sip. “Well, if you’re clear beforehand and make it clear that it’s only for this night and there’s no emotions behind it other than temporary bliss, then that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Nah,” Hayden said, shaking their head. “It’s an unwritten rule. Don’t shag your flatmates.”

“Is it a serious rule?” Annelise asked, furrowing her brows.

“It’s got serious consequences,” Hayden answered.

“But if you’re both aware it’s only a one time thing, then is it serious?” Y/N asked.

“Babe, sex is complicated. You’re always just gonna be connected in a way, you know?” Nathan said.

“I can promise you I’m not connected to Ollie Lee in any way, shape, or form,” Y/N huffed, sipping her drink again as Nathan laughed, the other joining in because of Y/N’s obvious distaste in this Ollie Lee.

“Was he awful in bed?” Chloe asked, smiling as she looked between Nathan and Y/N.

“No, I was just desperate one night last year.” Y/N rolled her eyes at herself. “Let’s just say that mid-shag he asked me if I had to go to the toilet, and when I said no, he told me that whenever I felt like I had to, just pee on him instead.”

Gasps erupted around the table, and a second later, everyone started howling with laughter. Nathan kept on hitting his thigh, leaning into Y/N and laughing. Though it was a fairly embarrassing story on Y/N’s part, her definite lowest of low, she could not help feeling good about making everyone laugh like this. Looking around at everyone, she suddenly felt very good about herself, despite this being her worst sex story ever.

It was not like Y/N had fucked her way through Nottingham and had tons of stories to tell. In fact, she hadn’t shagged that many. She had had sex with eight people, three of them being women, one non-binary, and the other four men. She had been very vocal about the fact that the best sexual encounters she had had, were with women. They had all been so nice, and though it had never escalated to anything romantic beyond that one night together, they had made Y/N feel the best she’d ever felt. She suspected women just knew what to do, that they cared how she felt and did not solely care about their own release.

The group ended up just sitting around and talking for a while. It was nice to go somewhere outside of the uni setting and get to know some people, this was what uni was all about, or so Nathan had told her countless times. These people were as anxious about making friends and being liked as she was, but there they all were, making friends and going outside their own comfort zone.

At one point, Y/N had finished her drink and went to get another round for her and Nathan. The pub seemed to be even more packed now that it was closer to midnight. Everyone wanted to drink the week away, to forget about their lives for a little while and just spend time in good company. Y/N strolled over to the bar, looking up and down the counter to see if any of the bartenders were free to help her. The second her eyes landed on a familiar figure, she halted.

Harry’s eyes were already on hers as he stood almost right opposite her mixing a drink. He let go of a sigh, looking down at whatever he was mixing.

“You…” she started, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve got to be fucking everywhere.”

“Only ‘cause you’re every single place I usually am,” he said, continuing to make whatever drink he was making.

“Do you work here then?”

He looked over at her, raising one of his eyebrows. “I’m not a hallucination now?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Can’t believe you thought I was a bloody hallucination.”

“Believe it. It’s all Nathan’s fault anyway. I’ll never forgive him for forcing me to live with you for a year.”

Harry let out a dry laugh. “To answer your question: no, thought I’d help out behind the bar to get me adrenaline going.”

“Well funny,” Y/N said. “You got me cracking up, can you tell?”

“Last time I checked, I got you laughing pretty hard, yeah.”

“That’s literally two years ago now.”

Harry finished the drink, putting it in a glass and placing it in front of the person standing just beside Y/N. Her eyes first landed on the watch on his wrist, the nice brown leather, and then her gaze travelled upward. She looked up at the man who was already staring at her, giving him a smile when she smiled at him. Their eye contact was put to an abrupt end when Harry poked the man’s hand holding the drink with the card machine. Y/N looked back at Harry, and then at another man with strong build and big, curly hair who stepped into view beside Harry.

“I’ll take care of her, Kai,” Harry said.

This Kai looked at Harry, blinking once before he met Y/N’s eyes again.

“She’s my flatmate,” Harry elaborated, making Kai study Y/N a bit more closely before he nodded once. He was very good looking, with a broad nose, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips, his brown skin glowed in the dim lights of the pub.

“That new one,” Kai said.

“Yeah.”

Kai smiled then, nodding in Y/N’s direction. “Nice of you to come check on Hazza. It’s always hectic on Fridays.”

“Oh, our other flatmate took me here, I didn’t come by choice.”

Kai’s eyebrows rose on his face and he looked at Harry who barked out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders at Kai as they exchanged a look. Harry walked over to stand right in front of her, signalling to Kai that he could take care of this one. Kai walked off, taking someone else’s order.

“Even feistier than I remember, you are,” Harry said.

She cocked her head to the side as Harry gathered a glass for her drink, already assuming that was what she was going to get. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”

It left her lips before she even registered she was thinking it. Harry only took a deep breath before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, clearly choosing to ignore her statement. “What can I get you, Y/N?”

“Sex on the Beach, please,” she said. “Two of them.”

“Alright.” Harry started making them right away, signalling to someone that he’d be right with them after this. Y/N looked around her, meeting the gaze of the man who had just stood by her at the bar. He raised his glass in her direction and she smiled back. She definitely had to go talk to him after this. He seemed to be a bit older, maybe five years older than her, but just for tonight, she did not care.

Y/N glanced back at Harry and watched him, fascinated by how fast he managed to make the drinks. “How long have you worked here, then?”

“A year abouts,” Harry said. “Worked in a hotel when we moved to Brum. Tended to work at the bar when the bartender was out.”

Y/N nodded, eyes on his hands as he poured ice, shots, and all types of alcohol and liquids into her drink. “You lived there till you moved to London?”

“Yeah.” They were quiet for a moment, both of them remembering all of the things that were left unsaid between them. All of those words, moments, and memories they had created during those months the two of them had crossed paths in Nottingham.

He cleared his throat as he put the drinks down in front of her. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t much like Brum.”

Y/N took a grip of the glasses. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno. Just didn’t find my footing proper.”

“In the two years you lived there?”

He shrugged. “Guess not.”

Y/N clicked her tongue. “Was it that bad?”

“Nah, I met tons of ace people and Birmingham’s a decent place, but…” He shrugged again. “Dunno.”

“Hmm,” she said, trying to decipher his words and if he was being truthful or not.

“Anyway,” Harry said, nodding to the drinks. “Take that other drink to Nathan – as I’m sure it’s for him – and when you bring that middle-aged man home later: please, be quiet. I have rugby at 11 tomorrow morning.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open. “How dare-“

“-Y/N, what’s taking so fucking long?” Nathan shouted as he came up next to her. His eyes fell on Harry behind the bar. “Oh… forgot to tell you Harry works here.”

“Nath, shut the fuck up,” Y/N said, looking from Nathan and back at Harry.

Harry nodded towards the door, silently telling them to fuck off, and they did. They walked back to the rest who were still sitting by the same table outside. Nathan took his drink from Y/N and sat down, but just as Y/N was about to sit down, she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She looked over her shoulder rather fast, blinking a few too many times when she locked eyes with the same man who had been standing beside her by the bar.

“Hi,” he said, giving her a broad smile.

Y/N almost felt herself blush. “Hey.”

“I’m George.”

She smiled. “Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he said, he gestured at the bench where she had just been about to sit down. “Mind if I sit down with you?”

Her smile widened. “Not at all.”

Y/N felt fucking terrible. Her room was too hot, too humid. Body sticky with sweat, limbs aching, throat burning with yesterday’s alcohol, and head throbbing, she opened her eyes slowly before shutting them again, groaning into her pillow. She hated herself for not drinking as much water before bed as she usually did when coming home from a night out. Sitting up, she looked down at the man beside her, racking her brain to remember what his name was. She ran her hands over her face, reaching for her glasses so she could see something, but quickly realising she left her contact lenses in the night before. Her eyes were so dry it hurt to blink and she suddenly realised why her head was hurting more than normal. Cursing herself, Y/N got out of bed with her glasses perched at the top of her head, picking up a tee shirt and some tights, pulling on her fluffy dressing gown before she made her way out of her room as soundlessly as possible.

She stumbled her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. First thing she did was take her contacts out, struggling to do so as the contacts were so dry, her eyes having dried out with them. She splashed water in her face next, then drank the equivalent to the Atlantic Ocean before splashing even more water on her face. She then put her glasses on, realising that she had to let her eyes relax some after what she had just put them through. It took her awhile to gather up the courage to go to the toilet, where she made herself throw up the nausea she was feeling before having a very long peeing session.

Moments of the night before came rushing back to her, and as she sat there on the toilet, she remembered more and more. The name George came to her like out of a fog, and then the details started falling into place. She remembered how he’d bought her more drinks, how the two of them had sat talking all night about nothing in particular. She remembered his hand on her thigh and him leaning into her to whisper in her ear. Then they were in her room, her front against the mattress and his weight on her back. It was all hazy after that, most of it just a mess of limbs and chasing a release that she had never caught up with. Though Y/N usually made it clear that she hadn’t come, she was too worn out to tell George. She remembered falling asleep almost the second they were done. To say she had been underwhelmed was an understatement.

When she was done, she walked down the stairs for the kitchen. Once again, she was left stopping right in her tracks as she walked in. Harry stood by the stove, eyes on the pan in front of him where he was making eggs, a few asparagus and peppers cooking beside the two frying eggs. For a moment, she debated walking back upstairs and leaving Harry to it, but then he glanced over at the door to his right, meeting her eyes right away. He gave her a tight-lipped smile before turning back to his breakfast. God… Y/N wanted to set herself on fire. It’d be better than staying inside a room with Harry alone after years apart.

He wore rugby shorts that reached mid-thigh, a white tee shirt to go with it, and a hairband to keep his hair out of his face. Y/N realised just then that he was getting ready to leave for rugby as he had told her yesterday he would. She could remember him doing rugby when they knew each other three years ago as well, but she didn’t think he’d still be doing it.

The small conversation they had in The Stag’s Head the night before lingered in the air between and around them. That was reason enough to turn and walk upstairs again. But as Y/N remembered who was waiting for her in her room, she stepped into the kitchen. She got two slices of bread and put them in the toaster, getting some butter and milk out of the fridge as she waited. She watched Harry’s back as she filled the kettle with enough water, quickly looking away when he moved to put his eggs on the two slices of bread on his plate. Biting her lip, Y/N got a mug and a teabag, looking back over at Harry as he stood holding his breakfast plate. Y/N took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she had to do.

“Okay,” she said only a second before Harry turned around to face her, mouth open as if to say something. He must have noticed the tension as well. “We need to talk this through. We can’t live together for the next year if it’s gonna be like this. Just gonna put that out there right away.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Y/N leaned her hip against the counter, feeling relieved that she was not the only one out of the two that had thought about how incredibly awkward this was. “You’ve thought about it too?”

“Of course. I’ve been fuming ‘cause Nathan didn’t tell you sooner, and I’ve also found it annoying how I’m the bad guy in your eyes when this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for Nate.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I haven’t thought of you as the bad guy-“

“-Y/N,” Harry said, putting his plate down on the counter again. “You’ve been angry at me this whole time. I can tell.”

“My frustration with you has got nothing to do with this situation, but all to do with how you just left without even saying goodbye before you moved away.” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m trying to not blame you for this as well, but you’re right, Nathan’s the one that made this happen, we should be angry with him.”

“So you have been mad at me.”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t it just easier, no matter how stupid the reason, to just find more things to make you angry at a person? To make you hate them even more? Isn’t it just satisfying to find other ways to be frustrated with them?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I am.”

“Anyway,” Y/N continued, getting her bread slices out of the toaster to put butter on them. “Why didn’t we say anything? If we’ve both thought it’s been awkward, I mean.”

“You’ve been busy shagging men 10 years older than you, I didn’t get the chance.”

“Look at you not being frustrated or annoyed with me.”

“I told you to be quiet last night,” Harry said, getting a fork and putting some asparagus and paprika in his mouth. “You weren’t.”

Y/N got the kettle as it finished, pouring some hot water into her mug. “So, what you’re saying is that you’ve been angry with me.”

“Not angry, just…” Harry sighed. “Fine. A little angry last night, yes.”

Y/N smiled. “And he wasn’t 10 years older than me, he’s five years older.” She paused. “I think.”

“Right,” Harry said, eating more of his breakfast. “Listen…” He swallowed. “I think we should just… We should just address it.”

“Yeah.”

They were both quiet, looking at the other and waiting for them to say what they were both thinking. Though it looked like he was about to reach for his bread to take a bite, Harry stopped himself. Instead, he took a deep breath, and said, “It was fucking terrible. That first time…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes before he ran a hand over his face, remembering it all over again. “I didn’t even last a minute. It was mortifying.”

“It wasn’t half as mortifying as you trying to go down on me afterwards.”

Harry let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that wasn’t really…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, we were both part of it. You don’t have to apologise for that.”

“You hear all these stories about how losing your virginity is supposed to be so beautiful, but it’s not. It’s really fucking not. Especially if you lose it to someone else who hasn’t had sex before, it just makes it double as awkward.”

Y/N nodded. “It was shit. Both of us were shit.”

“Exactly.”

“But I hope you know the reason I’m frustrated with you isn’t because of that.”

Harry looked away, biting at his bottom lip before he said, “Yeah, I know why.”

“Good, just wanted that to be clear.”

Harry nodded, taking his bread slice in his hand, making sure the egg wouldn’t fall off before he brought it to his mouth. “Well, now that we’ve addressed that, let’s just move on.”

“Let’s.”

She gave him a small smile before taking her teabag out of her mug and throwing it in the bin. There was still some tension in the room, but not enough for Y/N to want to set herself on fire like she had wanted to before. Just as she was about to take a grip of her plate and cuppa, the sounds of footsteps made her look up. George, who had been asleep last time Y/N checked, walked by the kitchen, halting as he saw Y/N and Harry standing there in the kitchen. He gave them both a smile Y/N could tell was forced, and then walked straight for the door without a single word or a second glance. Y/N and Harry looked at one another, sharing a look before they both chuckled ever so slightly.

“Cracking bloke,” Harry mumbled.

“Innit,” Y/N huffed, picking up her breakfast. “Have fun at rugby practice.”

“Cheers.”

She walked by him, hoping that her room did not smell of George or anything resembling alcohol or sweat. If it did, she would hit her head against the wall. But, lucky for her, George had left the door open, which had given the room a little bit of time to get the smell of last night out. After putting on her fluffy duvet cover, she opened the windows to let some fresh air in, and left her door open as she sat down in bed with her laptop, tea, and breakfast.

Just as she was about to put her plate down on the nightstand, she noticed something already laying there on top of her books. Adjusting her glasses, Y/N squinted at the object. She put her plate down on her duvet cover and reached for the wristwatch George had left. It was the nice leather one she had seen last night by the bar, the one that had caught her attention first. The digital clock seemed to have stopped working, displaying a random time that Y/N in her hangover state could not tell anyone what was. She was too fucked to even try and understand the numbers in front of her.

She put the clock back on her desk, hoping that she’d run into George soon so she could give it back to him. Or maybe Nathan could stalk Facebook and find him so she could message him there to tell him. She was glad she hadn’t exchanged phone numbers with George as she did not want to meet him again, but right now, she wanted to give him his watch back.

Y/N heard the front door open and then close, indicating that Harry had just left for rugby, and, as far as she could tell, she was the only one currently awake in her flat. The morning was quiet, she felt oddly at peace as she put on Fleabag and sipped her cuppa, and little did she know, this would be one of those rare moments over the last three years that this emotion inhabited her body.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 7th March, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta reader! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGIWGOJGI PLS COME TALK !!!!

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bakugou-jpg · 4 years ago

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“Breathe” [Kuroo x reader] Karasuhoes server collab

Hello, hello, helloo !! This is my part of the karasuhoes server collab, the masterlist to all the other amazing and beautiful stories the other wrote can be found here so make sure to check those out too :)

This was really fun to participate in and i’m very glad to have been able to be part of such a fun little community🥺 Hope you guys’ll enjoy this thing i made !

Also pLEASE forgive the fact that this banner is pretty bad. I forgot that i had to make a new one and made this one at camp, but i’ll replace it soon with a better one😭🤣

Prompt: “Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

Warnings: TW:some sort of panic attack

Words: 3407

____________________________

Breathe

Dating Kuroo was like running away from the rain late at night after coming back from a big city by train. Getting out of the train and walking onto the platform only to notice its raining pretty hard, the noise of the droplets hitting the ground echoeing in your ears.Counting down from 5 to 1 before bolting off, the sound of shoes hitting the wet pavement being somewhat pleasant while laughing and screaming at the same time before rushing into the car being absolutely soaked. Sitting in silence for a few seconds, catching your breath before bursting into laughter.

Its the smell of gasoline late at night while looking at him through the car windows as he's pumping gas into the car, staring off into space for a moment before snapping back to his thoughts and catching you staring. Smiling in response and shooting a wink at you.

Dating Kuroo, was so much fun and comforting. There was no one who could make you laugh at silly science pun pick-up lines like he could, no one who knew your exact order at every single restaurant like the back of their hand and especially no one who knew how to hold and kiss you just the way you liked it like Kuroo did.

The two of you met in highschool, his third year and your second. Being friends with your neighbor, Yaku, seemed to have its perks especially after tagging along with some of their games and catching the attention of the rooster.

A couple of dates, victories, anniversaries and a ring on your finger later the two of you were sharing an apartment together.

Kuroo had a great job, one that paid quite well and allowed the two of you to go on vacation abroad a couple of times. You were still in college, finishing your last year of school and starting work at a place you had your internship at which happened to offer you a job afterwards at. It felt too good to be true, all of it.

Coming home from a rough day only to find a freshly made meal waiting for you on the table, waking up to find your head locked in between an arm and a leg wrapped around your lower back because he once again used you like a body pillow and had his own head pushed between a pillow, finding little knick knacks on your desk he bought cause they reminded him if you and solving the who's doing the dishes part with rock-paper-scissors but when you lose he'd still be by your side drying everything off.

Hours worth of paragraphs could be written about how fun and loving domestic life with Kuroo was.

"(Y/n)? I'm home!"

With his tie loosely hanging around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt open and one of his shoes slightly untied Kuroo had entered the house. His face was adored with a few droplets of sweat mixed with rain from outside after having ran from the car towards the front door, not wanting to get wet and all.

It was usually you who came home later, but today Kuroo was out of town and had a long drive home so he hadn't been able to be back for dinner on time.

It didn't take long until he had kicked off his shoes and got rid of his blazer, throwing it on some boxes so he could "clean it later".

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, wondering about the reason why you hadn't greeted him yet. Normally you'd be calling out for him immediately or, if it had been a particularly hard and long day for him, you'd be by his side in a second taking him into your arms while running your fingers through his hair.

Perhaps, you went out to go to the shop or your parents? No, your coat was hanging on the coatrack with still fresh droplets of rain on it from outside and your shoes were neatly placed underneath it.

"(Y/n)..?"

Kuroo entered the living room, socks softly dragging over the smooth wood floor of the apartment. While he was busy taking off his tie, leaving him only in a blouse with rolled up sleeves, he could notice how there were two bags of groceries scattered over the kitchen counters. It seemed as if you hadn't bothered to even notice one of the peaches had rolled onto the ground and how it seemed that one of the eggs cracked.

Kuroo scanned the living room, noticing how you probably didn't even plop down on the couch after he left the apartment . Everything was still the same, empty cup that once contained his vitamin juice still there and the cushion he used to playfully hit you on the head with still on top of the head rest.

"Hey, babe? Are you home?"

Once again there was no reply and all he could hear was the soft buzzing of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

Perhaps, you were asleep? Or showering, maybe you were cold after going through the rain and were soaked so went to shower immediately which would explain the hurry.

A small grin made its way onto his face as he hopped off into the bedroom in his search for you.

He tiptoed to the bedroom, sneaking his way into his most treasured room of the apartment, being very careful that if you were to be sleeping he wouldn't be waking you up and could just look at you for a few seconds because god did Kuroo love the way you looked oh so peaceful and soft whenever you slept. It was a sight he could never get enough of, even if there might of have been some drool on the corner of your mouth.

Kuroo softly pushed the door open, a slight creak could be heard through the door but it wasn't too loud. The curtains were closed, perhaps you really were asleep? He was sure you had opened the curtains this morning which was something that had woken him up abruptly.

"You sleeping, baby?" His voice spoke softly before he made its way inside. Once his eyes had gotten used to the light, he could see how your clothes were scattered over the ground. It seemed like they were a bit wet, meaning you had been in the rain on your way back, and they left a trail towards the bathroom door.

It didn't take long before the edges of his mouth stretched out into a smirk and in a split second he had marched towards the door, his ear against the white wooden surface to pick up any sound coming from inside. "(Y/n)? I'm home, can i come in?" Kuroo called out, knocking softly while his other hand reached for the knob.

Kuroo lost the sense of privacy between the two of you a long time ago. I mean you two had seen each other naked before, what more was there to hide? You'd be taking a shower and he'd casually walk in to use the bathroom or the opposite way of course. You even caught him walking into the kitchen butt-naked in the morning. It was..interesting.

He'd always be able to walk into the bathroom while you were there, no matter what you were doing. Nobody else had the key to your apartment and if Kuroo brought someone home he'd always send you a text beforehand to avoid any embarrassing moments.

..so why was it locked now?

At first Kuroo didn't think much of it, maybe you did it on accident?

"(Y/n)? Are you okay..?"

His voice was laced with worry but ,once again, there still was the possibility that you had locked it on accident. He did it too sometimes, it was a reflex from when he lived at home that sometimes randomly resurfaced.

Though, Kuroo couldn't hear any water running..but you had to be inside since the door was locked after all..why weren't you responding?

Did u slip and fall? Were you okay?

Kuroo could feel how his chest tightened and all feeling he had in his upper body sank to his toes. His hands were sweaty, the loose tie around his neck suddenly feeling way too tight for his liking.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden door and started fiddling with the doorknob, hoping you'd atleast respond with a whimper or maybe a knock back. After all, you'd still be okay..right?

"..H-hey, baby can u open the door for me? Can you do that? I'm coming in okay?"

Although the door was locked, there was still a way to come inside from the outside. You see, though it was very tiny, there was a little button at the bottom of the door knob you could twist if you used something thin, like a coin or keys.

Kuroo found out when the two of you were roughhousing. He was obviously winning, after all the man had years of volleybal behind him and still worked out frequently. But, he had a weakness that would give you just a few seconds to get away and that weakness were his sensitive sides. It only took one pinch of your fingers and he flinched and started cackling, something which allowed you to run towards the bathroom while locking yourself up.

You thought you were safe, a feeling of pride washing over you and you settled yourself on the closed toiletseat. Everything seemed to lead to you having won, but the simple click of the doorlock turning made your heart drop and a few seconds later Kuroo stepped inside with a devilish grin on his face and a penny in between his fingers.

Long story short, you were absolutely screwed.

"Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck.."

Trashing through the drawers, Kuroo hurriedly looked for something he could use to open that damned lock. Within seconds, he fished out a very tiny key out of the nightstand and was quick to make his way towards the bathroom door.

"I'm coming in now"

...

"(Y/n)..?" Kuroo muttered, a wave of relief washing over him once he saw that you appeared to be okay physically. A second wave of worry washed over him the moment he saw your tear stained face looking up at him.

The sight of you sitting on the cold tile floor, your bathrobe hugging your body and your still slightly damp hair dripping some water on the floor was something he didn't expect to see. You were sobbing at this point, only now did he notice how you were hiding one of your hands from his sight. It killed him, seeing you like this, especially since he didn't know what happened and countless of possibilities ran through his head..why didn't you open the door?

Kuroo quickly rushed to your side and wrapped his arms around you, burrying your face into his shoulder while sitting down. He couldn't care if his suit got wet or if his head bumped into the sink, all he wanted right now was to hold you and help you calm down as he could hear how you slowly started choking on your sobs and hyperventilate.

He backed up a little, giving you some space to breathe and softly rubbed your back. "Hey, hey, its okay..I'm here now, its okay. Ssshh, its okay baby." Kuroo whispered, a voice oh so soft and comforting that always pulled at the strings of your heart. A voice that felt like a warm cup of chocolate milk with marshmallows that started melting.

At this point you were shaking, the clear thoughts you once had turning into a mushy blurry mess and all you could do was cry and panic. You wanted to go away, wait no you didn't. But you did, you could run, you shouldn't. Maybe you should leave without saying anything, wait no no what were you saying. Fuck it was getting hot-

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

Breathe.

Kuroo was holding your face in his hands, basically forcing you to keep your attention to him and him only. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping away the tears that were leaving your eyes like niagra falls. The way his warm hazel eyes peered into your own with such love yet worry made your head start clearing up. His touch was comforting, it was okay. Everything was okay.

Pulling away from him, you dug the arm you were hiding further into your lap. "Tetsurou, i..I, i'm really..Fuck" You cursed under your breath while throwing your head back, bumping it into the wall behind you while taking a deep breath. The way Kuroo's eyes were stuck onto you, felt like a thick smoke cloud. You couldn't get rid of it and it was killing you slowly, you wanted it gone yet it made you feel at ease in a way.

The bathroom suddenly felt a lot smaller and you suddenly realized why you were crying in the first place, old worries resurfacing and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Unconciously, you started pulling your hand closer and closer to your body, something which didn't get unnoticed by Kuroo as you felt his hand slowly reach out to it and wrapping around it.

"I-i'm so sorry.." You whimpered, a fresh new wave of tears falling down your cheeks.

It took awhile for him to register what exactly was going on, especially since he was confused about why you were hiding it. He didn't even understand what exactly it was what he was looking at at first, but within seconds his mind put two and two together.

Staring at the three pregnancy tests in his hand, Kuroo's mind immediately went blank. The world around him disappeared, and all he could look at were the three different sticks that had either a || , ++ or read postive on it.

The thick silence was choking you up even more, the bad outcomes you imagined in your mind that you on life didn't hope to become reality suddenly feeling way too close to you. Maybe you really did have a reason to cry.

Kuroo slowly adverted his eyes from the sticks in his hands to you and he felt his heart hammer in his chest. "You..you're pregnant? Like, a baby, your- no OUR baby, growing inside of you. Do you..want to keep it?" He questioned, his hand reaching out for your own. The soft squeeze he gave once you accepted it made you feel at ease, the bad thought drifting away slowly again.

You nodded your head at his question, adverting your eyes to his chest. The world around you had stopped a long time ago, it was just you in the bathroom. The moment you had gotten home you didn't even bother to put the groceries away, the screaming in your head getting louder and louder with the minute becoming truely agonizing. The words 'You're just late' repeating over and over again getting louder with the second as you got closer to the bathroom.

At first you postponed it, taking a shower first and taking your absolute sweet time with it while scrubbing and scrubbing your skin as if you were trying to scrub away the panic that boiled in your chest. After having been in it for around 30 minutes you forced yourself out, not wanting the water bill going up just because you were feeling like a coward.

Peeing, had never been so difficult in your life. It wouldn't, you couldn't. It frustrated you extremely, never in your life had your bladder given up on you the most and when you needed her most she decided to let you down.

The minutes that followed were probably the worst. It felt like hours had passed, your reality slowing down like in an action movie when they'd shoot bullets at someone and they'd barely dodge them. Even after hearing the beep of one of the pregnancy tests, the more expensive one, had echoed through the bathroom you waited for atleast another 40 minutes before looking at it.

The truth is, Kuroo and you talked about a lot that involved your future. Kuroo always talked about how he wanted to buy a house, a big one with a beautiful garden where you could keep pretty colorful flowers and gaze at the stars at night. One with a porch and of course a swinging bench where the two of you would sit when you're all old and wrinkly with an old dog sitting at your feet. He'd talk about how he'd just know how good you'd look at your wedding, already talking about how he'd kiss you at the altar like he had never kissed you before.

All of those plans, plans for the future.

..yet there were never any words about kids.

The two of you weren't exactly too young anymore, after all you were responsible adults now, but you didn't except that if you were to ever have kids it would be right now. You weren't even sure what Kuroo thought of being a dad himself.

"I-i'm gonna be a dad? I'm actually gonna be a dad? We'll have to buy a house!"

With another nod of confirmation coming from you, Kuroo bursted out into laughter. It was a type of laughter you had enver heard before,if you were honest. It wasn't like his usual cackle, in all honesty it sounded more like a serial killer in a movie that was absolutely nuts and laughed wholeheartedly. You weren't even sure why he was laughing, heck Kuroo didn't even know himself.

The relief that had washed over him the moment he finally cleared his head was immeasurable. You were okay, like actually okay, and he was gonna be a dad? This was the first and last time he was happy about you crying. Fuck, he could even feel his eyes burn slightly.

Kuroo looked at you for a moment with a big grin and you could see how ecstatic he had gotten all of the sudden. The joy he held in his eyes was something you last saw when you proposed the idea of living together but even that wasn't on the level as this.

It didn't take long before you started mimicking his smile, all of the bad emotions gone within a second. The tears that once spilled out of your eyes due to panic and the uncertainty you felt not too long ago, had turned into ones of relief and happiness.

Before you could even comprehend about everything that was happening, Kuroo had grabbed the fabric of your bathrobe and pulled you closer to him. His lips immediately met yours, your noses slightly bumping into each other in the process but at that moment it didn't matter. The way his lips moved against yours made your knees weak and made you want to hold onto it forever. With his hand cupping your face, Kuroo only deepened the kiss before he pulled away again and rested his forehead against yours.

The two of you gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, no words exchanged, but with the way Kuroo was looking at you with the softest look he didn't have to. His thumb softly caressed your cheek and you could hear the way he sighed in relief as if breathing out all of his worries.

With another soft kiss to your lips, this time merely a peck but still comforting Kuroo held you close in his arms. His face burried into your freshly washed hair and his nose pressed against your temple. His mouth ghosted over your ear and you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

"..thank you"

Maybe agreeing with your friend that coming along to his volleybal practice hadn't been so bad after all, you'd have to thank Yaku properly once he came back. Meeting Kuroo really might of have been the best thing to happen to you.

Neither of you knew what the future would hold at this point and in all honesty it was quite scary, but you had Kuroo and Kuroo had you. You two didn't know how to actually prepare for such a big step in your life and along the way there were many doubts.

But coming home late at night to find Kuroo slow dancing with your daughter to an old song on the lp player, his face in awe as he looked down at how the girl on his hip that held onto her father's hand slowly started dozing off due to all the swaying might of have made you realize that sometimes,

Some things should just be left unplanned.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu fanfiction #karasuhoes

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taking-over-his-life · 4 years ago

Text

I wanted to be a biker, and my new job gave me a chance Ill never forget

I had just been successful at getting a promotion as a station manager to one of the central logistics hubs. The company had a range of logistics services including parcel delivery by van, specialist delivery by motorbike, and special link to the airport for customs clearance. I was really excited about it as it was only 5 miles from my house, and it was the first opportunity to manage 100 staff that was based at this site.

My office was on the first floor and had a window that looked out over the main logistics centre, so I could see people coming and going on bikes and in vans.

In my first months I spent the time to get to know the management, supervisors and staff, or as many as I could. I spent a bit of time in the staff restaurant with the men and women that work there.

I took special interest in the motorcycle courier section as I had a general interest in the bikes as well as those who rode them. They were out in all weathers and it showed on their leathers, and faces, well worn and when you got close you could also smell their gear. It took all my will power to keep my hands off them. I watched them in the smoking area in groups, laughing and horsing about with each other.

I was stuck up here doing the planning. Damn they seemed so happy so free. I watched as they came in from the rain, and put their drenched leathers over the radiators in the locker room. The smell wafted upstairs upsetting the women in the admin pool. I said I'd sort it, but damn I loved it.

I went down so they thought I was dealing. There were two guys in the locker room were in their undies, fuck I nearly came. ‘You ok guys’, I said. ‘Fucking soaking’ one replied, the other kept his head down. ‘Well get dry before you go out’. I said ‘Do we not supply waterproofs’ I said, ‘yes but forgot them’ he said. I walked out with a nose and lung full of that masculine smell. You would often find me down there during the day to get to know the guys.

After a couple of months it was time for me to check out the night shift.

There were a number of people I had not met, plus I wanted to see how the shifts worked. I checked in advance, and there was one controller who was at the far side of the complex, two drivers and 1 motorcycle courier who were working that night shift.

I arrived at about 1 am, and went straight to my office to do a little bit of work before I introduced myself to those on duty.

I decided to go in nice and tidy, and wear a suit. After about 30-minutes I went downstairs, and decided to go straight to the control room. There was a guy in it called Dan. He got a bit of a shock that I was there, but I had a good chat with him and asked where the drivers were.

Both are out on jobs but they would be back in about 2 or 3 hours. I said I would let him know if I was still here when they got back. I would also let him know when I was leaving.

I asked about the courier and he said he would be in the crew room which was under the admin block right at the other side of the complex. There was nothing scheduled for him that night he was just on standby for emergencies.

I walked over to the crew room. It was about 5-minutes walk from the control room. Dan had to stay in control room to man the phone and the radio so I knew it was only me and the biker on that side of the building

It will be interesting to meet him. It was about 3 a.m. I had a boner which is normal for me at night, I just somehow had to keep it hidden so a little bit of adjustment and I felt more comfortable.

It was going to be interesting to see how he reacted when the boss arrived. I was always professional so didn't see it as a major problem for myself 5 minutes conversation and I'll be back upstairs and could have a real good wank.

I went into to crew room and there was no one there that I could see, so I went around the other side by the kitchen just to see whether he was there there was no one there. I decided to go out into a corridor and go into the locker room, it's always something I enjoy, as the smell of guys leather boots old clothes damp clothes so erotic.

I pushed the door open and to my shock I saw the courier on the bench in between the lockers wearing his off-road boots, leather jeans and a black T-shirt. His Boots were on the back of two seats with his hand on his dick wanking furiously.

What shocked me is how much he was so into it, he neither heard nor saw me. I stood there getting so excited rubbing my own groin. He opened his eyes and jumped when he saw me. ‘Don't move’ I said really loudly,’keep going you need to release’.

He put his hand back on his dick and smiled at me, ‘you want to help’ he said beckoning me over. I did and walked over to him I got down on my knees and moved my head towards his erect dick and swallowed his shaft licking and sucking as I moaned with delight.

My hands were on his leathered thighs, and I could feel his muscles under the warm leather. His gloved hands came over and pushed my head down so the top of his dick was at the back of my throat, I just moaned with absolute delight.

I was inbetween his legs tasting his premium smelling his leathers and feeling the warmth of his body through the leather was just incredible. I looked up at him pulled away from his dick, ‘upstairs’ I said, ‘I'm your new manager’ I said. He gulped and smiled, ‘ok sir’ he said. He stood up and I saw him better, ‘nice’ I said. He grabbed my ass, ‘I'd like a piece of that’. He followed me upstairs and into the admin area. I locked the door.

That was it. We both let go of every inhibition. We were all over each other in each others mouths ass nothing was left untouched. He took off his T to reveal a tattooed torso. I licked at those pecs and then enjoyed the days old stink from his pits, licking them clean.

Off came his boots and socks. My head went straight into the boots pulling his foot stink into my nose and lungs. It was hypnotic, the socks were unbelievable, male hormone leather and foot smell. I decided to pull off his leather jeans. He was wearing thermals underneath. It wasn’t long before I had them off him and against my nose. He followed quickly by stripping me naked,after that it was body against body.

He was lying on the sofa legs apart when I decided to stand over him and lower my ass onto that huge dick. He held my waist and guided me on. In seconds he was in me. Pushing hard as I bobbed up and down. I knew he was close due to the breathing and clenched my ass muscles, he came floods in side me, grunting and moaning

I collapsed on top of him and cuddled in. He did the same.

After 10 mins or so he got up and went to sit at my desk. ‘Feels good’ he said, ‘how do I look?’

I smiled at him picked up my briefs, and threw them at him. ‘You need to dress the part,’ I said. I walked over to him put my hand on his balls and said ‘but first let's get this off you’.

I went to his dick and removed his cock ring, putting it on my own dick and balls, then the silver neck chain over his head and onto mine then his rings.

‘Better dress the part’ he said. He rushed to pull my briefs over his dick and balls, then the vest. I passed him my shirt trousers, socks, shoes and jacket, and watched him as he dressed. He was so excited.

‘How do you feel ‘I said, as he rubbed himself all over,’ just perfect’ he said with a smile on his face. ‘I’m the boss now and I need a biker’s dick in my ass. I want to take it over my desk’.

I was taken aback but an offer like that can’t be refused. I moved toward him dick erect. I said ‘I’m a biker’, he said ‘put your gear on first’.

I didn't need to be told twice and so his thermals went on my legs over my butt and encased my dick. The socks were next followed by the leather jeans. I zipped them up, felt them I was so damn horny. Then the trail boots filthy from wear went on went both my feet and got buckled up.

There was only his BO stenched black T which I pulled over my head. I was the biker now.

‘So boss’ I said ‘get you ass over here’. He stood up came round the desk and started to kiss me. I spun him around put my hands around his waist and undid his belt, unzipped him and let his pants fall down. I pulled down his briefs and undid my leather jeans manoeuvred my dick through the thermals pushed him face first down onto his desk. His ass was in the air. I slowly pushed my dick head against it and slowly and gradually moved in up to the hilt. I started to pull in and out then faster becoming more violent.

He moaned in ecstasy. I was so hot I could smell his scent mingling with mine from the T shirt, and suddenly I just burst and cum flowed into his guts as I totally emptied my load. I dropped on top of him. Held him, and pulled out.

He was just elated as was I. He pulled up the trousers and sat at my desk.

‘Fucking incredible man I could enjoy this office, being the boss’, he said., ‘go get your jacket, helmet, gloves and reflective from the locker room biker man, then come back up and service your boss’ he said. ‘They are on the bench’.

‘Yes boss’ I said, which excited him. I went down to the locker room, loving the feel of his jeans and boots.

The rest of his gear was there. I pulled on his fleece which stunk of sweat, then the leather jacket. Zipped myself in and attached it to the jeans. Fuck it felt good. His hi vis tabard and radio were next, and then I pulled his helmet over my head, and then started to pull, on the gloves.

Suddenly the door burst open. I jumped, ‘Where the fuck have you been Dave’ Dan the controller shouted, ‘get the fuck on that bike Dave, I have an urgent pick up’. He gave me a ticket. ‘Get a fucking move on he screamed’.

I had no choice I grabbed my gloves and headed out to the bike. He believed I was Dave.

The keys were in it. I started it up, entered the details into the sat nav pulled on the gloves and rode off

It was about 4am, freezing cold and the rain was belting down. Ages since it rode a bike but his gear felt so warm and soft on my skin. I rode for 30mins feeling more erotic, and more at home in his gear. I walked in as a courier and picked up a parcel the guy gave me. He gave me an address for delivery. I put it in the satnav and headed off for the delivery. Before I did it I called into control to let Dan know.

Before I set off, I got a call from the real Dave. ‘Where the fuck are you’ he said. I explained. ‘What do I do’ he said ‘people will arrive in a couple of hours.’ He was shit scared. ‘Go to my place .car keys in top drawn it’s the BMW outside. I gave him my address. I was due to be off for a few days.

It was 530 when it delivered the parcel. I was soaked, but it was so damn sexual and the smell from his gear incredible. The leathers were so tight on me must be the rain I thought.

I reported to control. I was off at 6 so they told me to go home. I was exhausted

It was two hours to my place. I was soaked the weather was worse. I wondered where he lived. I rang he answered

‘I'm fucking soaked and freezing’ I said in a gruffer voice than normal, must be the cold. , ‘welcome to my life man’ he replied. ‘I’m in old street, where do u live I cant ride 2 hours in this rain’ I said, he replied. ‘Your ten mins away’ ‘Thank heavens, I’ll go to your place and come over to tomorrow’ ‘ok’ he said, he sounded different.

‘Have u been drinking’ I shouted, ‘yep nice place here’ he said’ just be careful in my place’ I retorted ‘Great body’ he said, ‘what’ I responded, I didn’t know what he meant. I felt the rain coming through on my chest, and my beard was rubbing on my helmet. Beard? I just put the thought away and headed to his place.

I parked the bike and headed upstairs to the flat. I found the keys in an outside pocket of the soaked leather jacket. I got inside and started to undress. Helmet. Came off my head, I pulled the gloves off finger by finger, as they stuck to me. Totally sodden. The, soaked, jacket, was unzipped, and fell down my shoulders. Then the damp stinking fleece came away from my chest, then my BO covered t-shirt, I was naked on top and cold. I rushed to remove the boots, full of water; my feet were freezing, then my thermals and socks. I left them all n a pile in the hallway and headed to the bedroom. I saw the bed through the darkness and just jumped in.

‘Your fucking freezing’, came a shout from a woman. ‘Fuck’ I said. I pulled the duvet over my head and my ring caught in my hair, hair? I curled up and she came over and wrapped herself around me. ‘Poor bugger’ she said ‘let's warm you up’. I was terrified she would notice I wasn’t Dave, but I felt best to just stay there and be quiet. I felt her breasts against my back. Fucking hell, what is going to happen when she sees me and realises I'm not Dave.

It felt so good as she as she cuddled in. I went to sleep. The next minute, which must have been hours later, as it was daylight, she was sitting on the bed looking at me with a hot drink. I was shocked she accepted me. I took the drink and as I looked at my hands they were different tattooed, ‘fucking hell’ I said to myself. I put down the drink and walked naked to a mirror. I was shocked I was him it was his face his body. I felt his longer hair his beard, he was a hard biker. I could see the tats on my arms and chest, I was him, My dick started to harden as I felt myself. I liked it.

‘How, why’. I was stunned. She came and wrapped herself around me. ‘You still as gorgeous’ she said as she pulled me to the bed, pushed me down, and undressed.

She was on me in seconds working my dick which responded. I felt her breasts and soon I turned her over and was fucking her for dear life.

This new body responded to her touch feel and smell like nothing I've ever felt it was so erotic.

I spent the rest of the day sleeping knowing that I had to get myself over to my own house that evening. The more time I spent in this body as Dave the more I liked it and I decided that maybe keeping it for a few extra days wouldn't harm anyone and will allow him a little bit of luxury in my place.

She dropped off all of my leathers and so I took the opportunity of putting the same on and telling her I was going out for a ride.

‘Can I come’ she said. ‘yes babe’ I replied. I was starting to talk like him. Out came a cig and I started to smoke as I pulled on all my gear. she disappeared to get ready and when she came out she was dressed head-to-toe in tight black leather with stilettos heels. I couldn't believe it she I couldn't believe it she was incredible. I grabbed her around the waist as we walked down to the bike. I was heading out into the country speeding all the way eventually stopping at a small coffee bar next to some Woods.

We had something to eat and drink all the time she's rubbing her leg on mine under the table I felt it was time we took a walk the wooded area.

When we got in there she started kiss me. I was a lot taller than her. So I lifted her up my placing my arms under her legs and pulling her upwards against the tree. She was now level with my face. I took my hand and unzipped her leather jeans which had its zip from back to front

I was kissing her I gradually unzipped my leather jeans my erect dick pushing in her direction till I found her hole. I pounded her against the tree and she enjoyed every second moaning with Delight.

I came deep inside of her we lay down on the ground and chatted she said that I seemed different. I asked ‘was good or bad?’ ‘very good ‘she said. after that we walked back to the bike and headed back to the flat

I received a call from Dave. He told me how much you was enjoying his new richer life and would I be prepared to stay in his place for a little longer.

I immediately said yes as I was quite enjoying the change he started to laugh

I came to realise that the change was created by exchanging clothes and getting the sweat of the other person on me. I wondered if he had ever done this before. He told me it was a regular event between himself and his girlfriend. I was shocked, he had been her? He told me how erotic it was and how much she liked it. It was only his body that could do it.

I couldn't believe what I just heard. That night I asked her if she wanted to change and she said yes. She loved to have a dick to fuck with again and so she began to gradually undress and I did the same.

I took out a joint and had a beer in my hand as I sat and watched the show. She slowly and sensually started to undress. The bedroom was dimly lit and she was high. She sat on the floor in front of me and lifted one leg. Resting her stiletto boot on my knee. I moved forward and found the zip near her vagina and started to slowly pull it down to the sole of her boot, he leg slipped out. My nose immediately went into the boot.

I did the same with the second one putting it to the side. She stood up in front of me as she turned around and asked me to untie the Basque. I did, it fell to the floor.

My dick was just raging; I stood up and rubbed myself against her. ‘It will soon be yours Dave she said, ‘all yours’ you can then be fucked so hard. She rubbed her leathered hands over her huge ass and crotch. Smiling at me. ‘you want’ yes yes’ I said.

‘unzip me’ she said. I put my hand up to her neck and started to pull the zipper down on the one piece. Right down to her privates. I pushed the leather over her shoulders and unzipped the small zips at her wrists and pulled it off her arms it dropped open near her ass. She was wearing a leather bra, which was filled with her ample breasts.

She sat on the bed, as I pulled the one piece past her ass and off her legs, I knew id be in it soon, and I was as hard as iron seeping precum.

She undid her stockings and rolled them down her legs throwing them as me. I caught them, then the suspender belt came off and now the leather knickers. ‘These are yours now’ she said. I lit any another joint, and keep drinking. ‘I want to be fucked in your body ‘I screamed.

‘Get you gear off man, its mine now’ she said ‘OK OK and I hurried to strip down naked. She smacked my dick and said ‘Ill be using that soon’,

‘help me off with my bra she said’. I undid the clasp and she pulled the leather bra off. Sit on the bed she said, and from behind me she put my arms through the bra, it rested on my chest too small for me but soon my chest began to change, it got smaller in girth and started to produce women’s breasts, that started to fill the bra. The nipples were so damn sensitive and I moaned as she fastened the clasp.

She picked up her knickers and passed them to me and I put my leg through them and pull them up over my massive dick. It started to disappear and I became thinner as the knickers started to fall into place on my body. I was in an other world. She stood behind me and put the suspender belt on me, my hips changed to fit them. She then moved to the floor and put a stocking on my left foot which immediately reshaped itself and rolled them up attaching them to the belt. I couldn’t move or do anything it was like a permanent orgasm. She then did the other leg, and I could see I was now becoming her.

She passed me her one-piece leather she had been wearing it was very tight on her and showed her ass. I put my legs into the leather and pushed my left leg down and it went in really easy because of the nylons.

I could feel myself getting thinner and smaller and more curvaceous she came up behind me to help me to pull up the leather one piece so it was over my shoulders and I slid my new arms into it. I then pulled the zip all the way up from my new vagina up past my new huge tits and up to my neck

she then placed the Basque around my waist and started to lace it so it pulled my waist in making my ass look bigger it felt so so good. the rest was down to me as she was dressing in my gear. I picked up this stilettos and with the right one I pushed my new foot into it and pulled it right way up to my waist I got hold of the zip and pulled it up. I did exactly the same with the other leg.

I picked up her leather jacket and gloves and pulled them on. Was this real, I felt all over my new body, the tight leather, inside was incredible the feelings.

I walked over to the mirror and I saw her reflection, not Dave’s I had changed places so what Dave had said was true. I sat down somewhat shocked enjoying the new experience and watching her dress as me and gradually her looks her body her size all changed she was now the new Dave.

She (or he) wanted to go out on the bike again, this time to be in control to go to the same place and follow through with the same fuck session this afternoon, but she would be in control and I would be the one against the tree.

I was more than happy to oblige, I wanted to know how it felt. I followed him down to the bike, the new tight leathers rubbing my sensitive skin. Mt breasts we just so erotic as they moved in the bra and the leather knickers just slid backward and forward with my precum. I sat on the back for the first time and placed my arms around his waist. it was so sensual as I rested my breasts on his back

What an incredible experience when we got there, he helped me off the bike holding my ass as we went into the woods. It wasn’t easy walking in stilettos so he held me close, This body was reacting. When we got to the tree, he gently rested me against it, kissing me as he rubbed my breasts. I had my leathered hand on his leather dick and gradually unzipped him and pulled it out. I licked his precum from my leather glove as we kissed. His hands went in-between my legs and held my thighs lifting me off the ground so my vagina was opposite his erect dick, I pulled down my zip and pulled out my new breasts and then pushed the zip right down so it was opened right to my ass.

the next minute his huge dick found the target, I was in ecstasy waiting for an experience no man has ever had. He started to push and his head slid into me, My head went backwards in ecstasy as he pushed it right up to the hilt. After that he was backward and forward in and out till he shots loads inside of me and I orgasmed. my first female orgasm.

The whole experience was incredible; I understand why these two do this regularly. No way was I going to give this up.

We rode home, stripped off, returned to ourselves and got absolutely drunk and drugged.

All this time the real Dave was texting me. I ignored it. He was wondering where I was. Fuck him; I’m not going back to what I was. I’m Dave and I’m not changing back.

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 4 years ago

Text

Darling Nikki

A/N: This is another Luba smut fic. I’m going to go ahead and label this one as the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written. I’m falling for Luba, and he listens to Prince, I’m making it a headcanon. Watch the video for where I got my ideas from, it’s worth it. This song makes me…..feel things. So, give it a listen, read this fic, drink some water, and enjoy.

Warnings: grinding, unprotected sex, lap dance, verrry smutty, food, creampie

“What the fuck gives you the idea that you can do me like that?” Luba whispers, teasing your hip, “coming into my fucking parlor and masturbating on the couch. Where everyone can see you? How the fuck did that pretty little head of yours get that love-drunk. So wasted on how good I make you feel.”

I met her in a hotel lobby

Masturbating with a magazine

You truly didn’t know what came over you. The red lights were on, and nobody was in the main area. The usual lady at the desk went out for the night. It was usually pretty tame, so it was safe for her to do that. You knew he wasn’t going to be long, as he didn’t have many clients. You weren’t even sure he had any clients today. So, you decided to give yourself a little break. A little toucha toucha touch me. Nothing wrong with a little self-love. Except, you were so inthralled with the tiny circles and the wet spot on the couch, that you couldn’t hear Luba walking down the hall. His bags were in his hand, ready to head home, but they almost dropped upon seeing you. You were spread out on the couch, leg over the back of it, and his eyes didn’t leave your pussy. Your underwear was doing little to stop you from dripping onto the couch. Even as he was staring you down, wanting you to feel intimidated. Your thumb didn’t stop its circles. Your middle and ring finger didn’t stop pumping out of you. Your mouth didn’t stop its noises. You could still burst at any sudden touch, intimate or not.

Luba made his way over to you, and removed your hand from your sex, and he sucked the digits into his mouth, moaning around them. He always told you good you tasted, and how well you could drip onto him...how good you felt around him. You throbbed even more from his actions, and a finger snuck its way up your snatch, feeling around. Your head fell back against the couch, and instinctively, your hips began to grind upwards, but Luba stopped you, other hand pressing down. He glared at you, and you knew exactly how horribly you’d want him to ruin you. To fuck you, absolutely break your pelvis with those thrusts. Just like he’s done so many times before. Luba leaned forward, and took your lips, swallowing your moans. Your hands wrapped around his neck, and you pulled him forward, tongue slipping against his. His head tilted, and you two melted into the kiss. Luba’s finger sped up, and another joined in with the fun, thumb painting over your clit.

His lips went to your neck, and bit along your clavicle. Luba continued, and made a path all the way around your neck. It was close to impossible to keep your mouth closed, with his fingers moving against you, and the feeling of his lips on your hot skin, you began to creep closer and closer to that precipice. You were practically drowning in feeling, senses blinded by the cloud of lust hanging over you. Wool over your eyes covered in, no, dripping in sexual desire, and all you wanted to do was suffocate in that beautiful feeling. Your leg began to shake, and you came on Luba’s fingers, his teeth on your carotid. You spilled all over the couch as well, the fabric darkening with your release. He slowed down, fingers finding themselves in his mouth again, moaning around them. You caught your breath and Luba did as well. Your eyes drifted down, and his bulge was clearly present through the leather pants.

“Let’s take this to the house.” Luba said, landing one last kiss to your neck. You picked yourself up, and hobbled to the car, time passing by in an instant. The windows were steaming up, and you weren’t shocked, you were throbbing at the thought of Luba touching you again. Fucking you again, letting him have his way with you.

He opened the door and you stepped in, shoes already kicked off of your feet. You took a glance behind you and Luba stood there, watching you in the dark. You felt a shiver come over your body, and you almost came again right then and there. The sheer lust radiating from Luba excited you, and you could smell the hormones drifting from him. He smacked your ass as you two walked to your shared bedroom, then he locked the door, turning the lights off. He shed his vest, and you of the rest of your clothes, panties indefinitely soaked. Luba stood before you, he walked you to the edge of the bed, your back touching the comforter on top. He bent over and his face hovered over yours, eyes looking deep into yours. His lips brushed against yours, but just barely, and they grabbed yours. His hips ground against yours, and your legs spread, making room for him for any time. You returned the favor, feeling his length tease the lips of your pussy. Luba’s mouth disconnected from yours, only for him to moan against you, hips jerking into yours.

“Fuck, you wanna ride me tonight? I might end up destroying your pussy either way, but I’ll let you take control for once.” he said, hands already grabbing the headboard in preparation. You smiled at the thought, and flipped the two of you over. You stood up, and went to the vinyl cabinet, popping on quite a flirty number, and you stepped into the closet, and grabbed the handcuffs from their rack, letting them click on your wrists.

“Hang on baby, I’ll get to you in a little bit. Be patient, or I’ll fucking torture you.” you said, adjusting the record player, tying Luba up to the corresponding bedposts.

He jerked his wrists against the constraints, and they didn’t budge, a giggle coming from your mouth. Luba was under your control, and you were going to enjoy every second of it. You crawled on top of him, and put your hands on his chest. You tweaked each nipple, and settled yourself right over his length, which was throbbing, Luba’s breath picking up.

“Oh, one more thing. Almost forgot.” you said, flicking on the red light by the bed, the room coloring itself a dark crimson.

The lights went out

And Nikki started to grind

You dropped on Luba’s length, at just the right moment, mouth dropping open with a whine. Your hips moved in circles, and you moved down his length inch by inch, making sure to look at his face, which was twisting in pleasure, neck stretching. You slowly sank down, tiny noises coming from your body. You adjusted yourself, and felt your pussy clench with each movement. A gasp escaped from your mouth as you reached his hilt, and you bent over to peck Luba, his tongue entering your mouth almost immediately. He wanted complete contact with you, and wanted you to ruin him. You took a pause, breaking away from him. However, your body had other plans. You began to grind, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the feeling, and you groaned with animalistic intent. You bounced on his cock, and your tits did as well, Luba’s hips now coming to meet your thrusts. You moved in circles, then sank down completely, and repeated the process. Your ribs were exposed, and Luba’s eyes were filled to the brim with lust, clouding his judgement. Curses left his mouth, and your hands moved to the headboard, preparing yourself for the chaos about to ensue.

“This is about to be intense, Lu, alright. Tap out if you need to, but I’ll be fucking you like a rabbit.” you whisper, your hips snapping down into his, your clit getting smothered in the process. That sensation almost sent you over the moon, but you wanted to get him off first, which wouldn’t take long, based on the sweat gathered on his forehead, the increasingly loud moans.

You moved in tighter circles this time, head spinning from the pure lust. Your eyes closed, and nothing more crossed your mind than the burning hot coil in your belly, begging to be let loose. Luba’s thrusts, previously meeting yours became more and more erratic, moans becoming more guttural. He wanted to feel everything you have him, and his hips tried their best to keep up with you. You were fucking him like you promised, and he wanted nothing more from you. His breath caught, and he bit his lip, making every second of the sex wonderous.

Oh, she'll show you no mercy

But she'll sho'nuff, sho'nuff show you how to grind

You bent down, and bit on Luba’s neck, bringing him to his orgasm, his wrists raw, almost bleeding from the amount of pulling he’d been doing. You felt him fill you up, seed working against gravity as his feet angled themselves on the bed to bury his cock completely in you. Every last drop of him drowning your walls, pushing you to your own orgasm. That coil finally melted inside of you, your pussy clenching on his length once more. You shook against his form, song peaking right as you did. Your chest met his as you calmed down, and a thin layer of sweat covered the two of you.

Luba was nuzzled into your neck, and kissed your shoulder, making you feel warm inside, but maybe that was the fact that he was still warming inside of you. The handcuffs surprisingly held, and you undid them, rubbing Luba’s wrists and kissing them, knowing that you had aftercare prepared for him. You got off of his length, and cupped a hand over yourself, wobbling over to the bathroom. You relieved yourself, (as everyone should after sex to avoid UTI’s) and stretched, grabbing a bottle of lotion, for Lu’s wrists.

“Come on baby, budge up. You need to go piss, and I have to take care of your wrists. Hope I wasn’t too rough on you tonight. Right?” you asked, kissing his cheek.

“You were amazing. Thank you for the sex honey. Always a pleasure with you. Don’t leave me though, that ass provides in many ways.” he said, letting you rub the lotion on his wrists, then putting the handcuffs in their right place.

You two cuddled up in bed that night with a pizza, and Luba held you close. He didn’t want to let you go, and couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. You noticed him frowning, and sat up, kissing his lips. You let it linger, and made sure that he knew you meant well. His hand came to cup the back of your head, and you melted into it, pulling away after a short moment more.

Masterlist

youtube

#luba smut #luba x reader smut

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bokunohero-writings · 5 years ago

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44 with sero pls?

Yes yes yes! I love Sero and writing for him makes me so happy sol I’ll gladly do so!!!! I am so excited to do this thanks for the request!!

Prompt: “Is that my shirt?”

Sero Hanta

_____________________________________

The sun tiredly rose, and though the shutters of the curtain you could see the light slowly beginning to pour into the room, making the warm orange and brown tones giving off a peaceful aura. The citrus smell of the lemongrass plant next to the bed only accentuated by the burning of incense which could only mean that Sero was already awake. Still, you turned around with the false hope of seeing him lying next to you, searching for his presence only to find empty space beside you. You sat down on the edge of the mattress and rubbed your eyes, adjusting to the morning showers of gold.

The week had been pretty uneventful, it was already Friday and your friends of class 1A had been unbelievably busy due to the training they had to undergo in order to be able to get their provisional licenses. You were proud of the effort that was put onto their improvement, however you couldn’t help but miss the shenanigans they always managed to pull you into. Most of all you couldn’t help but miss spending time with Sero, maybe that is what coerced you to escape to his room in the middle of the night, lying next to his sleeping form only to feel him pull you close to his body before drifting away.

Your eyes focused on a paper lying on the desk next to a neat pile of notebooks, you stretched your arms out before standing up and grabbing the quickly scribbled note. You smiled as you noticed a messy sketch of your boyfriend, he was making a kissy face while winking, you could just imagine him sending you a kiss from across the room.

Morning gorgeous I am sorry I could not stay any longer, but I didn’t want to wake you up. Thanks for staying with me tonight It was super sweet! Even if you do drool when you sleep.

Signed: Number one hero and number one in your heart

You chuckled lightly, but still you couldn’t help but feel like something was missing, you just hoped the two of you could be together soon. Your eyes scanned the room around you, all seemed too much familiar by now; the get toghethers with his friends, the dinner dates and the late nights lying on the hammock laughing together about nothing and everything all the same; heart warming up at the thought. Your eyes landed on the open drawers of his chest, and just then you noticed how he had actually left in a rush, his pijama shorts lying on the hammock and shutters half open.

You decided to help him organize a bit, not that the room was an utter mess but you just knew he’s arrive tired after training and you could only imagine how the last thing he would like to do was tidy up. Making the bed and letting the light in were the first chores you finished, only to fix his drawers at last. You folded his shorts neatly and stuffed them on the topmost drawer. Just as you were about to close the one he had left open you stared at the piece of clothing that was lying on the top, a cream colored shirt with yellow accents on the bottom and collar, and short bell style sleeves that ended just above the elbow for obvious reasons. He had been wearing it yesterday, you could recall seeing it on the floor next to the bed just before you made yourself comfortable. Hesitating only a little you grabbed the shirt and pressed it close to your nose, confirming that it was still soaked by his scent, tangy orange and smoky cinnamon incense.

You slipped it over your shoulders, the collar wide enough to wear it one shoulder off, and then you put a pair of black jeans on. Stepping in front of the mirror you were glad to notice that you could pull it off as one of your shirts and maybe no one would notice but you, which is exactly what you were looking for. A whiff of his scent reaching your nose once more, making your beam as you closed the door that led to his room.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sero wiped a bead of sweat that was running down his forehead as he slipped on his usual white shirt, stuffing the hero outfit inside his locker. He let out a huff of air before smiling and turning his neck just enough for it to crack, then stretching his hands up.

“You done?” Denki elbowed him on the side, making him cough.

“Yeah! Just a little rattled up after today, sure it was productive! I did managed some pretty impressive tactics if I do say so myself” He wiggles his eyebrows at his blonde haired friends

“What do you mean today? The whole week has been exhausting!” Kaminari huffed, slinging his bag over one shoulder.

“I know! But hey I can defenetely see everyone improving, I know we will kick the provisional licence exam’s ass!”

The two boys left the building, and it had just come to notice that there was still some time before the sun began to set, meaning that they had been excuse earlier than usual.

“Time really does feel different inside doesn’t it?” Kaminari spoke, not noticing that his friend had fallen behind, smiling seemingly at nothing.

“Hey Denki! I’ll see you later, or maybe tomorrow, if Aizawa comes to the dorms tell him I’m already asleep!” The boy shouted to his friend who had now one eyebrow cocked watching as Sero ran off waving. He chuckled, shrugging, knowing fully well where his friend was headed with such excitement.

“Sure thing!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sero hadn’t noticed how tall the dorm buildings truly were, and maybe he was entirely too tired already to pull off the stunt he had planned without hurting himself. He wanted to surprise you, as you had been absolutely the best, helping him out and showing him support the last few weeks in which he had been admittedly absent due to hero work.

Now there he was, sitting on the edge of your building, just a few floors above your window. He wanted to drop by and spend some time with you, but he wanted to make it special, make you happy, hell, he might even hear your beautiful laugh.

The thought of him making you smile filled him with the courage needed, he stood up and bracing himself he walked off the edge backwards, the inicial pull of gravity making his heart slightly somersault as it usually did. Swiftly he managed to shoot tape just a little over the edge, and he stretched his legs to land sideways on the wall, barely missing the first window, had he stepped on it he would be sent flying inside a stangers room. He smiled triumphantly, abseiling down your building before stopping right outside your window.

A loud thud distracted you from your homework, you furrowed your brows thinking it might have been an unfortunate bird at your window, but when you turned your head to check your heat stopped at the sight of someone outside.

Your heartbeat was fast and you felt a chill down your back, but as the feet dropped down you could now recognise a very familiar boy right outside your room. You walked over, thoroughly confused, and Sero waved at you when he noticed you approach him.

You let your shoulders relax and immediately your frown turned into a smile, and you let out a chuckle as you thew open the window, pulling your boyfriend inside.

Sero fell in your carpet, almost gracefully, almost, as he lost balance and ended up lying on the floor. However before he could stand you sat on lay on top of him, pressing soft kisses on his cheeks before sitting on his stomach.

“You scared me you goof!”

“You seem pretty happy about it tho” He chuckled, looking at you with adoring eyes, right then and there he could swear you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and the way your eyes sparkled as you smile just took his breath away. Suddenly he furrowed his brows as he inspected your outfit and he couldn’t even attempt to hide the cocky smile that was now plastered on his face.

“Is that my shirt?” He asked, recognising it as the one he had just been wearing the day before, which only meant you had been strolling about your day wearing something that was so obviously his.

“It is...sorry, I just missed you” You felt slight heat on your cheeks at him noticing and the way he looked at you, with such love, only helped to get you all flustered up even more.

“I like it...I love you” He chuckled

“I love you too, Hanta”

#bnha #sero hanta #sero imagines #sero x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hanta sero #sero scenarios

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a-deadly-serenade · 4 years ago

Text

Alchemy Between You & Me: Chapter 2: Sulfur [Guy of Gisborne/Reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362053/chapters/66860944

chapter below the cut.

chapter 1: arsenic

The following morning you awoke with a start. Someone was rapping on your chamber door.

Hastily wrapping your blanket around yourself, you heed their call, albeit begrudgingly. There’s a clear grimace on your face as you peer at the guard that stood at the ready for your answer and he bows before you.

“Good morning, my lady. I’m sorry to disturb you, but the sheriff requires your presence in his quarters.”

“At this hour?” you replied dryly. With a sigh, you give him a nod of your head. “I’ll be with you shortly,” you excused yourself and slipped the dress from the night before over your chemise.

You made a mental note to peruse the seamstresses and fabric sellers in the area later. If you were going to stay here, you could at least keep up with the latest fashions.

After fixing your hair and splashing some cold water on your face, you exited your room and started to follow the guard that walked down the halls with post-haste.

Several winding hallways later and you stood in front of a large wooden door that had two more soldiers posted on either side as watchmen. They each gave a nod to the guard that escorted you and together, pushed open the door to the sheriff’s quarters.

The room was large and furnished with an enormous desk made of a dark, almost black colored wood. A fireplace stood nearby, the logs burning in the hearth crackling away. Several bookshelves were placed around the room, all of them packed with various maps and tomes, and curiously, there was an assortment of birdcages.

You peered up at the tiny, straw things, each of them filled with a variety of songbirds and finches. Their tiny, peeping cries mingled with the sound of the town below as folks prepared their wares for the morning market.

The sheriff was seated at his desk, scribbling away on a large piece of parchment with a rather ridiculously oversized quill.

Sir Guy stood beside him and you felt your heart flutter at his acknowledging smile. He cleared his throat and tapped the sheriff on the shoulder.

“My lord, she’s arrived.”

His head instantly snapped up and his eyes widened in delight. “Indeed she has,” he said and gave you a crooked smile. “Thank you,” he addressed the guard. “You may leave us.”

The soldier bowed before the sheriff and took his leave, closing the doors behind him with a loud slam.

“You’re probably wondering why I summoned you here, my dear,” he said and ushered you forward with a beckon of his hand.

You took the few tentative steps forward to reach the edge of his desk and he gave you another smile.

“There’s no need to look so worried,” he assured. “I merely wanted to check-in, see how things are going.”

“Check-in?” you repeated, absolutely dumbfounded. You’d been taken from your studies, only to be dropped off on this conniving little man’s doorstep as his upcoming entertainment and he wanted to know how you were doing?

You were in such shock that you couldn’t even bring yourself to think of a reply, so the sheriff took your silence as his cue to continue.

“I trust that your room is to your satisfaction? I tried my best to find one that’d be easy for you to find. Can’t have my alchemist accidentally wandering off somewhere unsavory now can we?”

You coughed up a weary laugh in response. “Yes, I’ll admit, it’s going to take some getting used to, but I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he nodded. “I hear that Gisborne offered to give you the grand tour, hmm?” he chuckled. “I bet it’s high time you see where it is you’ll be working.”

“I’ll be working here? In the castle?” you raise an eyebrow up at him skeptically.

“Of course. Guy will show you,” he said and flourished his hand up at Gisborne. “Oh, and while you’re out,” he added. “Perhaps you could take the lovely young lady shopping? I doubt she’s keen to join your club of wearing the same dreary thing every day.”

You noticed Guy roll his eyes but he nodded his head at the sheriff’s request. “Very well,” he said and turned to face you.

His expression softened significantly and he gave you another smile. “If you would follow me, my lady,”

Giving the sheriff a curtsy, you quickly departed his office and let out a long sigh of relief as you walked out into the hallway.

There was just something about that man… he was so unsettling to be around!

A gentle hand outstretched onto your shoulder and you craned your neck up to look at Guy.

“I could show you to the lab first if you wish.”

Your interest is immediately peaked and your eyes light up as you smile brightly. “Lab? There’s a lab in the castle?”

He chuckled and started to lead the way, keeping his pace slow and leisurely. “Of course. Where else would you work?”

“To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t the slightest clue what entailed working as the sheriff’s personal alchemist,” you said lightly. “For a moment, I presumed he’d have me presiding over some rubble in the hopes that I’d turn it to gold.”

Guy chuckled. “That’d be quite the trick,” he said and you felt your cheeks burn under his stare. “But, the sheriff has proved himself to be a man of many interests and his pursuit of alchemy has always been on the more scientific side.”

“Really? I find that surprising. Most nobles only attach alchemy with the ridiculous notion of chrysopoeia. What makes the sheriff so different?”

“He’s seen what real alchemy can do,” Guy said and paused before a wrought iron door. With a tug of the large, circular doorknob, you are greeted with a wondrous sight.

The room was gigantic. Long wooden shelves hung suspended in the air by ropes, each one of them packed to the brim with all sorts of paraphernalia. Tall, curved windows allowed slits of sunlight to breach through the darkness of the stone castle and you gasped in delight.

Running over to more closely inspect the ingredients and tools, you were pleasantly surprised that Guy had been right with his assessment of the sheriff. Most of the jars were filled with a variety of herbs, gemstones, powders, and liquids. It was a bit of a mess, and a great deal of dust had settled over the room from unuse but… you could definitely make do with this.

“What do you think?” Guy wondered.

“It needs a bit of work to get back to its former glory, but,” your lips split into another grin as you discovered a few tomes tucked between some flasks. “This is more than I could have hoped for,”

Guy’s boots clicked softly against the stone floor as he made his way towards you. “I’m glad. Do you think you’ll have everything you need? I know it’s been awhile since anyone has worked here.”

“I’ll have to take inventory of everything that’s here,” you replied. “Which… may take a while.”

“I should leave you to it then,” he said and bowed before you. “While you’re working, I’ll have someone head to the market and fetch you some clothes.”

“Oh, there’s no need to do that. I can do it myself—”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted with a smile. “It’s no trouble, really. Is there any particular style that you’d prefer?”

“No,” you chuckled. “As long as I get something to wear other than this,” you gesture to your worn-out gown. “I’ll be content. At least tell me that you’ll accept any payments I forward for your generosity.”

“That won’t be necessary. Your parents already forwarded more than enough money to help pay for your keep, not that they needed to, as the sheriff was more than happy having you simply work here in the castle.”

“Oh…” you replied and disappointment flashed across your face. They really had been planning for this to happen all along, hadn’t they?

You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped, heat rising to your cheeks when you realized how close Guy stood before you.

“Work should help take your mind off things,” he replied with a sympathetic smile.

“Yes… you make a good point, Sir Guy,” you reached up and gave his arm a squeeze, grateful for not only his company but his friendship as well.

His eyes widened slightly at the gesture and he retracted his hand as he cleared his throat. “The sheriff will most likely stop by at some point, to check on your progress. I’m not sure when he expects you to begin work on the black powder, but he is not a man that likes to be kept waiting.”

You frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

With one final curtsy, Guy exited the lab, leaving you alone to begin the arduous work of whipping this place back into shape.

Rolling up your sleeves, you managed to find some old rags nestled on a shelf and after pounding them out one of the windows, you got to it. The amount of dust in the room frankly astonished you and it took a good few hours to simply wipe everything down.

Wiping some sweat off your brow, you checked over the flasks and tools you had let sit in a vat of warm saltwater. It seemed to be doing the trick, years of grime easily sloughing off the glass and metal and turning the water a nasty brown. It had to be changed several times till they were cleaned to your satisfaction and when they were done soaking, you laid them out on one of the desks to let them dry.

To the surprise of no one, it took you the most time to sort through all of the materials that had accumulated here since the last alchemist. A majority of the items were useful, powders, and caustic liquids that could be used in your research. However, a fair amount of it proved to be nothing more than junk and near the end of your sifting, there was a fairly large pile haphazardly strewn about near the door.

The one thing that did catch you by surprise, was the wide array of books that had been preserved. They were legitimate books on alchemy and you started to wonder how the sheriff acquired these. Most alchemists were hellbent on only ever sharing their texts with fellow researchers as it took so long to produce the images, the decknamen, that hide the secret code of their formulas. These were all wonderfully done and although you could decipher most of them, there were a few that caught your eye as you flipped through the pages and you made a mental note to revisit them for further analysis.

You’re broken out of your reverie by the sound of the heavy door being pulled open and in walked the sheriff, one of his guards trailing closely behind him.

He made a face at the pile of discarded items and carefully stepped around the random objects scattered across the floor.

“Doing a little redecorating?” he teased.

“Most of that is rubbish, my lord,” you replied. “It is of no use to me.”

He glanced down at the large heap and then turned his attention back to you. “Well, well, I must say, it does please me that you’ve taken this with such stride,” he slowly walked over to you, his head turning around as he inspected the work you’d done thus far. “This place almost looks brand new.”

“I must admit, it was rather filthy,” you said and wiped your hands clean with a rag. “When was this lab last in use?”

“Oh, not for some time,” he mused and peered down at all of the flasks that lay drying. “My last alchemist preceded a pretty boy that wasn’t a pretty boy at all,” he chuckled to himself. “Although I have to admit, their alchemy was quite lovely. Tell me, have you ever heard of liquid that can melt through solid iron?”

“Sounds like aqua fortis to me,”

The sheriff beamed up at you and he clapped his hands together in delight. “Goodness me, where have you been all my life? I trust that you will begin work on the black powder that you promised, now that this place is so spick and span.”

“Of course, my lord. Curiously, the only ingredient I seem to be lacking is charcoal.”

“Charcoal?” he echoed. “Run of the mill, fire-burnt charcoal?”

“Yes,” you replied firmly. “I have everything else I need and once I have all the materials, I’ll be able to play with the ratios a bit to get the desired reaction. Did you previous alchemists really not know all this?”

“They were not you, my dear,” he replied and gave one of your arms a strong squeeze. “See to it that the lovely lady gets her charcoal,” he said to the soldier, who nodded his head and hastily made his way out of the lab. “Once everything is in place… how much do you think you’d be able to make?”

“As long as I have all the ingredients at my disposal, I can make you as much as you desire, my lord.”

His eyes lit up, like a child that’d been handed a whole pie as a treat. “Oh, you sweet girl, you will have such a remarkable future here. I’ll make sure to fetch Gisborne when he’s back from the market. He oversaw our previous efforts into concocting black powder so I believe he’ll be able to assist you in replicating the results we managed to achieve.”

“Were your previous efforts successful?”

“Mm… yes and no. He commissioned a man who turned out to have other plans,” he said, face taught and tone laced with acidity. “We ended up with nothing so, forgive me if I ever seem at all forthright in my advances to move this project along. Which reminds me…” he mused and tapped a finger to his lips. “Are you in the habit of keeping notes of your work? A ledger, perhaps?”

“Of course,” you nodded. “However, as most alchemists do, I tend to encrypt my findings, my lord.”

“Hmm, well, just for me, do you think you’d be able to keep a log of your findings so that I may peruse them at my leisure?”

“I suppose I could,” you said carefully. “Although I doubt even then, you’d be able to make much sense of it.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright,” he said with a chipper smile. “So, I doubt you’ll be able to make much progress till we’re back with that charcoal of yours. Feel free to take a stroll, occupy your time. Just make sure you stay inside the castle.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He gave you one last grin as he started to hum to himself, gleefully departing the room with an extra pip in his step.

You thought it rather odd that he should desire access to your notes. For what purpose would that serve him? Did he perhaps wish to market your formula to other lords in the shire? That wouldn’t be a bad play, he’d surely make a considerable amount of money. You could only hope that if these were his true intentions, you’d receive some of the profit as you sincerely doubted that the funds your parents sent for your keep would ever end up in anyone’s pockets but the sheriff’s.

Walking outside, you make your way through several hallways and commend yourself for finding the exit on your first try. The courtyard was mostly empty, with a few soldiers standing here or there at their posts. The portcullis was open and you could see all of the townsfolk going about their day, the busy hum of the market seeping into the quiet castle.

In fact, that is where you were headed until you noticed someone sitting on one of the stone benches that rested under a tree.

It was a woman, with beautiful, curly brown hair that rested on her shoulders. She had a fair face and bright green eyes and appeared to be working on some sort of embroidery.

You’re instantly intrigued. Who was she? She dressed far too opulent to be a servant so did she also work for the sheriff? The least you could do was introduce yourself.

You gently cleared your throat as you approached her and she lifted her head up to meet your gaze. Her lips upturned into a courteous smile and she set aside her project as she spoke up.

“Hello,” she said, her sweet voice having a lovely quality to it. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, well, I thought it pertinent to introduce myself to anyone else that I meet, since I’m the newest resident here in the castle.”

One of her finely shaped eyebrows quirked up, her curiosity peaked. “What business do you have at the castle?”

“I am the sheriff’s recently appointed alchemist.”

“Alchemist?” she gaped. “You’re an alchemist?”

“Indeed,” you replied with a nod of your head and introduced yourself.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she replied. “I am Marian of Knighton.”

You gestured towards the bench and she immediately patted the spot beside her as she accepted your invitation to sit down.

“Knighton? Isn’t that where the former sheriff hailed from?”

“That’s my father,” she said fondly. “I find it intriguing that a woman should be a scientist, especially one that’s managed to capture the sheriff’s attention.”

“Yes well, I’m not exactly here on my own volition,” you said and laughed quietly as a weary smile spread across your face.

“That doesn’t surprise me since you’re working for the sheriff.”

You’re intrigued that she seems to share, even understand your sentiments. “Do you work for the sheriff as well?” you wondered.

“No,” she chuckled. “I… I suppose one could call me a guest if the meaning of guest has since become synonymous with hostage.”

You gasped and it was only then did she seem to register the gravity of her words.

“Forgive me,” she hastily muttered. “I speak out of turn—”

“No,” you replied. “I… this might sound strange, but… I understand how you feel.”

“You do?” she sounded genuinely surprised, but you could sense that her sincerity bordered on suspicion.

“Lady Marian, my passions lie in academia so that is where I found myself these last couple of years, studying in Italy under the guidance of fellow academics,”

“Impressive.”

You smiled and then heaved a sad sigh. “I would have been content spending the rest of my days there, relishing in new discoveries and learning as much as my heart desired. However, my parents had other plans. They’ve always been the sort to stick close to those up-in-coming to power, so it should come as no surprise that they did all they could to get into the new sheriff’s favors.”

“Are you saying that they dragged you here? To Nottingham?”

“Indeed,” you replied. “They must have surmised how beneficial my most recent undertaking could be for them since the most they probably understood about alchemy is the infamous notion of turning cheap metals into gold. I was sent back home only to be dropped off here, presented to the sheriff on a silver platter.”

Her face was creased with concern and she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s truly an awful thing, what your parents did. I cannot imagine what that must feel like.”

You chuckled, a bitter sound that made your stomach turn as you recalled the events that took place only the night before. “I think the worst part of it all was having to find out from the sheriff that I was to be staying here.”

Marian scoffed. “They didn’t even have the courage to tell you themselves?”

“No,” you said forlornly. “I probably would have gone mad that day had it not been for Sir Guy.”

“Guy?” she echoed, her tone laced with shock.

“He’s been nothing but kind since I’ve arrived,” you said and a smile curled at the ends of your lips. However, you picked up on the change in her voice and turned to her, head cocked to the side as you added, “You know him?”

“You could say that…”

Her gaze shifted to the side, her eyes narrowed slightly as her lips were pursed into a tight, thin line. You could sense that she had something on her mind, although she seemed reluctant to reveal it to you.

You were sincerely not in the mood to deal with anyone else that felt the need to hide things from you, you’d had enough of that for two lifetimes.

“What is it?” your voice was taught and had an edge to it that made her immediately look back up at you.

She sighed hopelessly in response and fiddled with the string that was still tied around the eye of her needle.

“I do not believe it is my place to say,”

“If you feel the need to blatantly lie to my face then I can only assume that you do in fact have something to say on the matter,”

She gaped at your harsh tone, however, she took no offense to your anger. On the contrary, she believed you had every right to be upset. She knew all too well what it felt like to have your life uprooted at the whims of powerful people and not only that, have your emotions completely tossed to the side as well. It was unfair for her to hide what she knew about Guy’s true nature from you to spare your feelings, after all, she knew how truly dangerous he was.

She had to approach this carefully, not wanting to overstep her own boundaries and all-but crucifying the man you believed was a true friend, the only person thus far in Nottingham that treated you with an ounce of respect. But Marian knew better than to expect that Guy was doing this all out of the goodness of his own heart. Knowing him, there must certainly be an ulterior motive for his actions. It pained her to do so, seeing how much faith you’d already put in him, but the truth had to be revealed.

“I’ve known Guy for some time,” she began and inched closer to you. “He and I became acquaintances shortly after the sheriff arrived in town. Back then, Vasey was a nobleman, one that had been sent down by Prince John himself on the excuse that he was to assess the state of things here in Nottingham county. As I’m sure you know, my father was usurped by Vasey for the role of sheriff and we had no say in the matter, not unless we wanted to be deemed as traitors of the crown,”

There was a deep frown on your face and Marian’s eyes widened in surprise when one of your hands reached out to gently hold one of her own.

“I’m terribly sorry about what you and your father went through,” you said genuinely and she smiled gratefully in response. “I was curious as to what befell the previous sheriff since from what I can remember, I always took him as the sort of man that would live out the end of his days doing his job.”

At that, Marian laughed. “You’d be quite right in that assumption. My father loved his job. He fell in love with the people of Nottingham and he did everything in his power to ensure that the law was upheld fairly. It seems Prince John had other plans, however, which called for someone a little more lacking in sympathies.”

She appeared lost in thought for a moment, reminiscing on simpler times that she often longed for in retrospect to how things were now. After a moment, she offered you a shy smile and continued with her story.

“At first, I found myself growing fond of Guy’s much quieter disposition compared to the sheriff. Despite initially being wary of the two since Vasey came into my father’s position, I appreciated the time that Guy took to ensure that both my father and I were well looked after and taken care of. We were key players in Nottingham, after all, and the sheriff would be a fool to completely toss aside my father, someone that had garnered the trust of most of the nobles that still ran the council. Not to mention, he still had the overwhelming support of the people behind him as well. It wasn’t until Guy was appointed Lord of Locksley that everything started to change,”

Marian took a moment to meticulously choose her next words for she noticed the wariness that had startled to take its hold on you from the ominous shift in her tone.

“Guy has always been one that values power and loyalty,” she explained. “However, it wasn’t until he was given the estate that I was able to see first hand just how far he’d go in order to obtain those things. The man I once thought of as a shy, inexperienced up-and-coming lieutenant, had evolved into a monster,”

“Monster?” you’re completely taken aback. Your hand rested over your heart from shock and you felt your body subconsciously lean away from her, appalled that Marian could ever say such a thing.

“Listen to me,” she said urgently. “You were not here these last five years, I have seen first-hand the things he’s done! What he’s capable of! I’ve…I…” her voice trailed off, a tightness in her throat beginning to overwhelm her as tears started to prick at the corner of her eyes.

Your stomach sank at the sight, regret immediately beginning to gnaw away at your previous dismissal of her words from the raw despair breaking out on her once confident visage.

“I was a part of it…” a few tears slipped past her defenses and she stubbornly turned her head from you as she attempted to quickly wipe them away.

You tentatively reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A million possibilities were swimming around in your head as you attempted to deduce what could have possibly happened between the two of them. However, whatever the outcome turned out to be, it was clear that it had left a deep emotional scar on Lady Marian’s heart.

“It’s alright,” you said softly and rubbed your thumb in slow, comforting circles. “If it is too painful to dwell on, my lady, I put no pressure on you to tell me. Your message rings out loud enough without having to tell me forthright,”

She sniffled and shakily wrapped one of her hands around your welcoming embrace, gingerly removing it from her shoulder to place both of your hands in her lap. When she deemed herself composed enough, she turned back around to finally face you once again.

“I appreciate your kind words,” she said with a small smile. “It is not every day that I come across someone so understanding. But…” she let a sad sigh slip past her lips before steeling her resolve, staring at you with renewed vigor. “You deserve to know about my history with Guy, you deserve to know about—”

“Excuse me, my lady?”

Both of you are startled when a guard calls out to you from the steps and you quickly clear your throat to respond.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, sending a curious glance at Marian. “But Sir Guy wanted to inform you that your charcoal has arrived and that he is waiting for you in the laboratory.”

“I see,” you replied tersely. “Very well, tell him that I shall be up shortly,”

The guard nodded and with a curt bow, he was off in a flash to deliver your message to Guy.

The conflict was apparent in your gaze as you turned your focus back to Marian and she gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Go,” she stated. “Consider our conversation tabled for now,”

“I’m sure it will not kill him to wait a few moments,”

She laughed at your snide comment, the sound genuine and full of light. It brought a smile of your own to your face.

“It would pain me for you to fall into any sort of trouble your first day here,” she confessed. Giving your hand a tight squeeze, she relinquished her hold on you and got up from her seat, picking up her abandoned embroidery pattern and tucking it under her arm. “I promise that we shall continue this conversation. There is only so much time I can spend embroidering,” she teased. “And I happen to know where the lab is located so, who knows? Perhaps I will make an unexpected visit… or two.”

You grinned and hopped off the bench, a newfound excitement coursing through your veins as the prospect of having a new, true friend presented itself to you.

“Well, who am I to deny such a request?”

Marian laughed again and offered you another heartfelt smile as she playfully hoped you’d make do with your promise, before heading towards one of the many arched doorways and disappearing back into the castle.

You found it hard to mask the smile that was still plastered on your face, overjoyed at meeting someone that you could wholeheartedly trust.

All at once though, a bitter taste filled your mouth as your previous feelings for the dashing master of arms came back round. Simply put, you quickly derived that the persona he’d presented to you thus far greatly strayed away from his true human nature. The very thought that he’d been using your confusion and betrayal from the circumstances of your arrival for you to trust him cause you to inwardly shudder. If you had not met Marian, what else would he have lied about to get you in his good graces?

Anxiety bubbled its way through your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs that lead up to the laboratory. How were you to approach the situation? Should you act as though nothing has changed? Should you distance yourself from him? Tell him to leave altogether?

As much as you wished you could outright dismiss his advances, you knew that it would be impossible to completely avoid Sir Guy due to how intimately involved he was with this project.

You cursed yourself at how easily you’d allowed yourself to become enamored with him from his dashing appearance alone. How could you ever forget that looks can be deceiving?

Your heart started to beat erratically against your rib cage, your breathing slightly labored as you stood before the heavy, intimidating iron door. The following hours were inevitable, your fate having long been sealed since you walked through the castle doors the night before. You knew it served no purpose to stall this out any longer than need be, so gathering up your courage, you tugged on the handle and walked inside.

You immediately noticed Guy standing off in the corner beside a few barrels that held the charcoal the sheriff had so dutifully fetched for you. Upon hearing your arrival, a smile lights up his face and he makes a beeline towards you.

Your feet appear to have a mind of their own, backing up a few paces as he closed in on you, effectively keeping the two of you apart.

This does not go unnoticed. Guy’s eyes flash with an unreadable emotion, his smile faltering until it fades altogether. The air around you is stifling and when you make no move to speak, he goes rigid, his shoulders squaring back and he clears his throat behind one of his gloved hands.

“The charcoal that you requested has arrived,” he said cooly and stepped aside, keeping a firm distance between the both of you.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he almost looked offended at your behavior and although you desperately wished to solidify any thoughts he had that you wanted nothing more to do with him, you had to remind yourself that he was your superior. You had no powerful friends here, no family that could protect you should you say the wrong thing or step on the wrong toes. You were all alone and for that, you had to ensure that those who unfortunately held your life in the balance held no ill-will towards you.

A shaky, half-hearted smile managed to find its way on your face, even if it did not reach your eyes. “Thank you,” you said softly and gracefully walked over towards the barrels to get a better look.

In spite of everything, you were astounded that they had managed to scrounge up so much material so quickly.

“I’m impressed that they were able to find as much as they did,” you commented. “Your men work fast.”

Guy seemed to relax slightly from your words and he nodded his head. “It is their job. I’m pleased that it is to your satisfaction,”

“You’ve more than exceeded my expectations, Sir Guy,” you replied and felt your stomach turn at how his eyes sparkled in delight at your compliment.

Well, at least he was easily fooled by your act of professionalism.

He took a few timid steps towards you, as if you were a wild animal that he’d scare off should he approach too quickly. “I understand both the sheriff and I have told you I once worked on a project in patenting a formula for black powder, but I must admit that I will be of little help to you in this endeavor,”

The prospect of having him leave you to work on this alone had you silently thanking whatever gods were at play, but you never let that relief shine through.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” you replied. “If you were able to see the product in action, that would help me attempt to replicate the effects with my own ratios,”

“Really?”

He was genuinely surprised and you nodded your head.

“Yes. Any details that you can remember, anything at all, will give me the best shot at ensuring that you get the most out of the batches I’m able to create,”

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, you sat down on one of the stools and pointed at the one in front of you as an indication for Guy to follow suit. The next hour or so was spent with you furiously scribbling down notes as you listened intently to Guy’s previous experience with black powder.

It was here that you learned the previous alchemist’s name had been Lambert and his formula was certainly an explosive one. You were impressed by the picture Guy painted. Lambert demonstrated that by using a trail of black powder that led to a small, compact source, the charge could be controlled and ensured maximum energy output while simultaneously being safe enough for commercial use. The resulting explosion had been powerful, creating a crater in the ground large enough for the sheriff to comfortably stand in.

You asked several other questions, wondering how the fire had interacted with the fuse or the consistency and color of the powder itself. By the end, you surmised that you had enough information to finally begin your work.

“I appreciate your help, Sir Guy,” you placed your notes on the nearby counter, your eyes scanning over them as you reread a few key points.

“I’m glad that I could be of assistance,” he mused and placed a hand on your shoulder.

It took all the strength within you not to flinch at his touch and you hoped that he’d take the hint you wished to get started and excuse himself on his own accord.

His hand lingered for longer than you would have liked and you heard him say, “I will leave you to your work then, milady. If you require any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask,”

“Thank you,”

When the door finally closed behind you, a breath you hadn’t known you were holding escaped you in a long, arduous sigh. You rub your temples with the pads of your fingers in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your eyes, both physically and mentally exhausted from the unfolding of the day’s events. You’d gone from trusting this man to not wanting to have anything to do with him in the span of twenty-four hours. You could almost akin the feeling to whiplash.

The bells of the nearby church tolling out the arrival of another hour brought your focus back to the task at hand. There was no time for you to dwell too much on Sir Guy’s motives, not when the sheriff expected quick results on an assignment you so keenly promised to deliver.

However, even as you pushed your troubling thoughts aside, there was one thing you came to agree upon; Sir Guy was not to be trusted.

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Highland Destiny Chapter 3 ~The Meeting~

James Fraser knew he was doomed when he realised he couldn't shake off the image of the Sassenach. What he thought of as a fleeting attraction had become an obsession that plagued his dreams and waking life. He couldn't stop thinking about her. It's as if when their eyes locked for a brief moment, the stars aligned only to be scrambled again like some cruel joke. Jamie knew it was no longer a matter of choice - he had to find her.

It was a baffling notion that she could simply vanish from the face of the earth without a trace. He made enquiries in and around Inverness and not one of his contacts, emergency institutions nor were any of his friends were able to assist. His last hope in finding the elusive English woman was Mother Hildegarde from St. Agnes, and he planned to visit her later in the hospital. Surely she would know something considering the mystery woman was sleeping under her roof.

Christ Sassenach, where are ye??

..........

It was early Monday morning, and Jamie was jogging back to the distillery. He sprinted the last half-mile in the hope that the exertion would diminish the frustration he was feeling. By the time he reached Frisealach Compound, he had worked up quite a sweat and his secretary, Laoghaire MacKenzie was waiting with a towel in her hand as he came through the door.

"Good morning to ye Jamie, enjoyed yer run?" He was greeted by a beautiful, blonde girl with too much make-up on and a dazzling smile. "I was watching ye from the window running like a mad-man, so I ken ye'd be here soon. I took the towel from your sports bag. Did ye spend the night in the office?" She approached Jamie purposely.

"Aye, and thank ye." Not offering any further explanations, he ignored the seductive look from his secretary and took the towel from her. "Don't ye have anything better to do?" Jamie asked, mildly annoyed and slightly out of breath from running all the way to the fifth floor.

Disregarding the hint of sarcasm, Laoghaire smiled sweetly, "You have some messages, and I left them on your desk. Also, Murtagh called to remind you about the general meeting at 10 today." She reached out to Jamie for the towel. "Here, let me dry your back... ye're soaking."

"That'll be it Laoghaire, thank you." Ignoring her antics, he quickly made his way to his office, shutting the door firmly.

Christ, I need to do something about that woman!

Jamie quickly made a few business calls and arrangements with the bank to donate £50,000 towards the St. Agnes Orphanage's restoration. Next, he grabbed his sports bag and keys and headed back out again.

"See you later. I'm going home to change, and then I'll be at the station for the rest of the morning. Anything important just passed it on to Rupert."

Before Laoghaire could utter a word or react, Jamie was gone.

..........

Claire's first weekend in Inverness started off with a bang, literally. She belatedly discovered that the fire was caused by an exploding furnace. Fortunately, there were no fatalities, and everyone in the orphanage that night made it to safety.

Following the events of that Friday night, Claire made a new friend in the form of Tom Christie, the junior doctor from the paramedic team. She learned that he was employed at the Royal Northern Infirmary, where Joe had taken his residency job. With nowhere else to go after the fire, Tom helped her locate Uncle Lamb's cottage and carried her suitcases into her new home. She was thankful that only a handful of her possessions perished in the blaze as most of her belongings remained in the car when she arrived at St. Agnes.

Claire spent the next two days unpacking, shopping, catching up with her best friend, Joe and visiting Mother Hildegarde in the hospital. Likewise, she visited some of the orphans and nuns injured in the fire. Worried about their plight, she was reassured by a nurse that the orphans were rehomed temporarily across the Highlands until St. Agnes is restored. This was comforting news!

The remainder of her Sunday was spent at home unwinding and was pleasantly surprised when Tom popped in for a quick visit bearing a bunch of flowers and a basket of preserves from his sister's shop.

"Ach, it's nothing. Just a wee house warming gift and my way of saying thank ye for helping the other night," Tom explained, after giving Claire a quick awkward hug.

What a sweet gesture, Claire later thought as she got ready for bed. With that in mind, she dozed off, feeling confident that all will be well. And that night she dreamt of Frank whispering to her, "Yes darling, all will definitely be well. Hush now and sleep."

..........

Monday morning, Claire got up early to get a good head start at work. She had been previously instructed by a Mrs Henderson to come before 10 am in time for a joint general meeting between Scottish Ambulance Service and the Inverness Fire Department. Mr Fitzgibbons, the Head Fire Officer, wanted her to meet the whole team, including the volunteers with whom she will be working closely with in the future.

"Easy day on Monday Ms Beauchamp. I'm tae inform ye that yer first day will be familiarising yersel' with your surroundings and colleagues unless of course, we have some emergency. Yer official first day of work will be Wednesday when Mr McCoy goes on holiday so that will give ye plenty of time to organise yersel'," A woman explained over the phone.

That's no brain surgery! Pretty straight-forward enough, Claire thought.

But Monday didn't turn out to be as straight-forward. First, Claire's unruly locks refused to cooperate, so she tied it in the messy bun. Then her car keys were misplaced and spent 15 minutes looking for them. Then halfway to the Fire Station, her car over-heated and had to wait for roadside assistance to take it away for repair. Luckily enough, Tom was driving by and happily gave her a lift to the station before heading for work.

Claire arrived at 9:55 am to be exact. She thanked Tom and hurriedly made her way through the station. To her dismay, Claire realised the meeting had started. She followed the sound of the voice, addressing a room, and it led her to the back of the building.

Right at the very end of the corridor, Claire saw an open door and peeked through. There were approximately 30 men assembled around the tables arranged in U-shape. At the head of the gathering, was a brown-haired man with a thick beard, doing a roll call. She surmised that it must be Mr Fitzgibbons.

Before stepping in, Claire checked her attire: everyday blue jeans, a white shirt, black leather jacket and white sneakers. She smoothed her hair and realised not much can be done. That will have to do Beauchamp... nothing fancy, just like one of the guys.

"Beauchamp!" the voice called out. The men in the room glanced around to determine who Beauchamp was. No answer. Meanwhile, Claire was unaware her name was called. She was too preoccupied smoothing her curly locks as she stood out of view from behind the door.

"Beauchamp, are ye here?!" the voice called out for the second time, this time almost shouting.

Claire finally heard her name called. Come on Beauchamp you can do this! She took big deep breaths and stepped into the room. "I'm right here," she announced loudly if not a bit croaky.

Almost all the men gave a start, chairs making squeaking and screeching sounds caused by a sudden movement of turning when a feminine voice answered. Sweet Mother of Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! There was a long silence, and a wide-eyed Claire stood frozen on the spot as she absorbed the room's shocked countenance. Appreciative stares, wolf-whistles and "oooohhhs-and-aaaahhhs" ensued after what seems like an eternity of speechlessness much to Claire's disconcertion. She wanted to back away out through the door and run.

"Hey Hugh, is the lady my belated stag-do pressie?" a voice shouted from the back. The room howled with laughter. Cor blimey, we have a jester in the house...just absolutely fucking great!

Ignoring the comic and the boisterous reaction, Claire gathered as much bravado she can muster and took a few more deep breaths. Aware every eye in the room was on her, she squared her shoulders and spoke, "Good morning, everyone, I'm Claire Beauchamp." Clearing her throat, she continued, "I'm terribly sorry that I'm late...my car broke down on my way here."

The room calmed down when she spoke, and there were shuffles and murmurs, as the men turned to listen. Thereupon, a man with the beard walked over to her and extended his hand. "Hello Claire, I'm Murtagh Fitzgibbons. Call me, Murtagh. And, erm, welcome to Inverness and welcome to our team." His arms made an extensive motion to the room.

Claire took the extended hand, but before she could say a word, Murtagh, said, "Take a seat." Awkward!

Somewhat still flustered and annoyed, Claire looked around for an empty chair. In her peripheral vision, a very tall man with auburn hair stood up and pulled out a seat next to him. "Hey Claire, over here," Ginger gestured to the vacancy next to him with sweeping arms. She spun in his direction and glanced up. Her gaze locked with a very amused pair of familiar, blue eyes. Oh my stars and garters, it's the bloody Scot!

Reluctantly, Claire made her way to the offered seat and nodded. "Thank you!" She flashed a vain effort of her best smile, hoping to conceal her agitations.

Before Claire could sit, suddenly, Ginger's hand extended towards her. "Hello, Sassenach! I'm James Fraser, or ye can call me Jamie if ye wish." Ah, Ginger has a name! She peered up at the grinning face. "Listen, lass, dinna mind these loons - they may look scary, but truly, we're all a friendly bunch here," Jamie explained in the way of an apology, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Standing next to Jamie, Claire felt petite with her 5'7 height. Her eyes were almost at the same level as the hollow base of his throat. Up close, she couldn't help but be very aware of the broad expanse of his shoulders as her gaze involuntarily drifted to his collarbones and, damn, he smelled like he just came out of the shower. He was wearing a white shirt that clung to him like a second skin and stretched precariously tight across his well-muscled chest. Avoiding his gaze, Claire quickly shook his hand, but as their hands touched, she felt an electric jolt bolt through her body in waves and swirls. Attempting to ignore the unsettling sensations, she responded, "Hi, nice to meet you too." Then she glanced up and saw Jamie staring too intently for her own comfort.

"Oy Fraser, smooth move" one of the men shouted, making Claire snap out from her reverie. The whole room erupted in laughter. Oh, crikey, here we go again!

"Aye, ye can learn a thing or two on how to be a gentleman," Jamie countered back laughing and threw a crushed paper at the direction of the joker.

Another joined in the teasing, "Gentleman my arse! The Frasers are just tae quick when it comes to pretty lasses. Ye're yer father's son, Jamie lad. My da tol' me how yer da, Brian stole the Mckenzie lass right under my uncle's nose!"

Everyone roared with laughter, and even the dour-looking Murtagh found the outburst hilarious. More banter and hilarity ensued.

Grateful for the distraction, Claire hurriedly sat down. She said "Thank you," again to Jamie and felt rather stupid for doing so. She lowered her head to hide the heat creeping up her face, as she busied herself, arranging her satchel on the table and taking out a pen and notepad.

"Right, that's enough. Everyone wheesht! So, are we all quite done here yet?" Murtagh hollered, "If so, let's get on with it. Aye?" Although the laughter ceased, you can still hear a few sniggering here and there.

Calm restored, Murtagh proceeded with the meeting. Drawing his attention again! back to Claire, much to her dismay, he asked, "Right, Beauchamp, which one is it officially, Randall or Beauchamp? I have several papers here with two different names."

Claire's face turned crimson. "It's Beauchamp. Randall is my late husband's name. Oh and by the way, just call me Claire."

Jamie nudged her arms lightly with his elbow, and he whispered with a cocked eyebrow, "Sorcha!" followed by a feeble attempt at a wink. Claire frowned, not understanding and she mouthed Shush at Jamie.

"Verra weel, Claire Beauchamp it is. Or simply Claire" Murtagh declared. Flipping through more papers, Murtagh added, "Oh hang on a minute, I omitted to inform ye lads. It's actually Dr Beauchamp. She is joining the paramedic team for a year while she is on sabbatical. And if I were ye, ye better be in yer best behaviour. I hear Dr Beauchamp is quite handy with the scalpel, her being a neurosurgeon and all."

That revelation was followed by laughter, impressed nods, Jamie patting her hand, and more wolf whistles, much to Claire's chagrin. All she could do in response was offer a weak smile and shrug.

Murtagh smiled at her and continued, "Moving along..." Oh, sour-face can smile after all!

Even though the proceedings had moved on to other matters, Claire had difficulty focusing. She couldn't decide whether to blame it on Jamie's closeness or on the boisterous banter from earlier. Her concentration was further disrupted as Jamie scooted closer, his knees brushing against hers. He tapped her on the elbow with a pen and whispered, "Hey Sassenach, so ye're a Neurosurgeon, eh?"

She nodded, her eyes fixed on Murtagh. Jamie clearing his throat, spoke again in a low voice. "Hey Sassenach, did ye recognise me from Friday night...ye ken, the fire at St. Agnes? 'Twas me who carried ye out when ye fainted."

Claire quickly glanced sideways to say something but got diverted at the sight of bulging muscles of his forearm as he leaned close, both elbows pitched on the table. The view made her mind wander afresh to imagining how Jamie would look like without his shirt. The thought made her swallow a lump forming in her throat. Catching herself, she shook her head, as if the mere act of doing so would dismiss all silly thoughts. Determined more than ever, Claire redoubled her effort to solely focus on Murtagh.

Unperturbed by her lack of response, Jamie nudged her knees with his. "Well?" he urged." Did ye or did ye not?"

"Shush ..." She gave Jamie a warning look and feigned annoyance, but to no avail. It only made him scoot his chair closer until both their arms were grazing.

Claire realised Jamie wasn't about to give up. So she looked at him with the sternest expression she can muster, pointed a pen towards Murtagh and mouthed to him, Later ok? Eventually, he conceded and acknowledged with a nod. Relieved, Claire mouthed thank you and was rewarded with the most beautiful smile she's ever seen upon any man's face. Oh, sweet Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the man's bloody gorgeous. Defeated, Claire gave in to this renewed distraction and daydreamed leaning forward to kiss the indentation on Jamie's chin.

The meeting lasted for two hours, and the only thing Claire could think of was her growing attraction towards Jamie. And little did she know, he was in the same predicament.

#melodyheart #highlanddestiny #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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flannelplanet · 5 years ago

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FROST

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (referred to in third person only) Rating: G (this is a super tame one) Summary: An AU wherein both Steve and the reader are teachers at their local high school. Short, sweet, and to the point <3 Word Count: 1,229

The weather is getting cooler, Steve notes thankfully, just as he’s finishing up his daily run. He’s taken the route he normally takes, telling himself it’s not because he’s guaranteed to see her walking from the door to her apartment to her car. No, he takes this route because it’s the quickest way to get home and showered and out the door for work.

And yet still, there she is, dressed in warm autumn colors for work. He’ll compliment her on it, of course, because his mama raised him right and he knows she puts effort into looking the way she does, even if she doesn’t necessarily need to.

She glances toward the street, familiar with the routine Steve has established by now, and waves. “Morning, Steve!” she yells, a hand held high waving in his direction. He slows, like he always does, and waves back, smiling to himself as he feels her eyes rake down his bare, sweat-soaked torso.

“I’ll see ya at work,” he says before picking up speed and finishing strong as he approaches his own apartment.

He quickly strips himself of his running and compression shorts before jumping in a steaming shower, where it feels heavenly good to wash the grime from his skin. Once finished, he combs his hair, make sure he douses himself with a spray or two of his signature cologne, and dresses for a long day of teaching.

The brick building welcomes her, doors wide open. It’s a big building, and it’s brimming with adolescent teenagers. She loves working with them, seeing their faces light up when they’ve finally understood a concept they had been struggling with, or hearing their chatter in the hallways. Their lives are just beginning and she takes pride in the fact that she’s able to be there guiding them through parts of it.

As she gets settled into her classroom and begins prepping her lesson plans for the day, her mind can’t help but wander back to her morning, before she’d even had her coffee. Steve, both coworker and friend, remained absolutely clueless in regards to how crazy he drives her. He jogs shirtless past her apartment nearly every single morning and the struggle to keep her tongue inside her mouth is a tough one. He’s gorgeous in both build and everything else, and she’s amazed he hasn’t caught on.

Sighing, she watches the first students pour into her classroom to find their seats, exhausted looks adorning their faces. Her fingers wrap around the warm disposable cup on the desk and lift it to her lips where she drains the remaining contents and tosses the cup into the small trash bin below her desk. Standing, she then smooths the wrinkles from her dress and proceeds to wander out into the hallway where the usual morning chaos greets her once again. This time, however, a familiar face is striding toward her.

“Something told me you’d be in need of a second cup,” he says, handing her another steaming mug. Lifting it to her nose, she smiles, knowing that it’s her favorite indulgent flavor.

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, a shy grin blooming across her face.

“Ah, well, I best be getting to my own class. Have a great morning!” he says with a wink, walking toward the classroom next door.

A faint blush blooms across her cheeks and she takes a moment to really savor the kind gesture, trying not to think of it as anything more than a thoughtful friend being nice. She takes a sip and has to stifle a groan as the rich flavor dances across her tongue and she lets herself wonder how he’s even real.

On his commute into work, Steve always stops at the local coffee shop. It was quaint, usually less busy than the bigger coffee chains, and they had the best brews. He remembers when she had first started working at the school with him, actually, and he told her to skip Starbucks and head straight for the corner shop down the street. Ever since, she had, and ever since she had been getting the same thing, so when he asked his usual barista to make a second cup that morning for her, alongside his own, they quickly provided her usual.

It was a quick drive to the school, and he parked in his usual spot toward the end of the teacher’s lot. He enjoys walking the short distance as he’s stuck in one place most of the day. Parked in the first row he spots her car, though, and an idea suddenly pops into his head.

A wide grin spreads across his handsome features as he sets one of the cups of coffee on the roof, then he takes a finger and writes in the frosty condensation, hoping the message will be visible the following morning. He then grabs the cup from the roof of her car and heads inside toward her classroom before heading to his own.

The day was long for the both of them, but not entirely unpleasant. That afternoon saw Steve walking her to her car, a knowing smirk on his face as he bid her a good night. The next morning’s run would hopefully be a little more eventful than usual.

A covering of frost lines every surface outside her apartment the following morning, and a shameful sense of disappointment at the fact that Steve would be in an actual shirt on his run settles deep in her chest. She shakes her head, the images of Steve’s sweaty torso fading away with the movement, and wraps herself in her warmest jacket and scarf before setting out to start her car.

He took to the streets earlier than usual, too nervous to see her reaction for himself. Was he too forward? Was he reading the situation all wrong? He certainly hoped not. He felt he was ready to extend his friendship, and hopefully relationship, with her beyond a quick wave in the street and pleasantries at work. A coffee here, a companion to walk with there… both were nice but he wanted to know what it would be like to sit across from her on a Saturday morning, coffees and plates of breakfast between them. He was curious to see if her Friday night date night dresses resembled her day-time clothing, whether her perfume was the same, what her lips tasted like on his own.

He’d be happy with less, of course, but he left the ball in her court with his little message he’d scrolled across her window the night before. It was simple, but he hoped it would work.

Her car lets out a short beep as she unlocked it from her remote as she walked toward the driver’s side door. She moved with purpose, reaching out to pull at the handle until she spots something on the window. She focuses on it, reading the message, and then reads it again before letting out a noise filled with excitement (it’s not a squeak or a squeal, she swears). She pulls open the door to her car and starts it before running inside and grabbing her things. Suddenly, it seems she can’t get to work quickly enough.

Dinner tonight?

-Steve

As Steve approaches his classroom door, he sees a brightly colored sticky note attached to his window. All it says is “yes”.

----

a/n: it’s been forever since I’ve been able to write anything but I found this in my WIPs folder and decided to give it a go!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #mine*fics

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ilovereadingandilovebreathing · 5 years ago

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Febufluff(whump) Day 9: Sick Day (& Creators Choice)

A/N: I’m always a slut for the Terror Twins, a.k.a. Harley & Peter, being best friends (sorry, Ned.) A universe in which Harley bugged the absolute hell out of Tony until he let Harley live with him and go to Midtown. Definitely softened by Peter.

Summary: Harley gets sick. Tony & Pepper are away, so naturally, Peter has to come help.

WARNINGS for food poisoning, talk and some descriptions of vomiting/gagging, etc.

Peter is busily scribbling away at his latest AP Language assignment when his phone buzzes multiple times in quick succession, “Hardly Queener” lighting up his phone screen.

Peter

Peter help me

SAVE ME

FACETIME ME NOW

Hardly Queener would like to FaceTime...

Peter rolls his eyes and answers; Harley’s forehead fills the screen, a muffled groan filling Peter’s ears instantly.

Peter chuckles humorlessly. “What’s up?”

“I’m d y i n g.” Harley groans loudly and looks up just enough for his eyes to be visible.

“You’re dramatic.”

“You’re homophobic.”

“You’re bisexual, Harley.”

“Shut up.” Harley buries his face in his covers.

“Sure, I’ll hang up-”

“NO.”

Peter sighs. “Why did you text bomb me and insist on FaceTiming?”

Harley barks out a few rough coughs. “Can you not HEAR the phlegmy evil that plagues my lungs?”

“So you’re sick. You weren’t sick at school today.”

“Not showing it, anyway.”

“Why didn’t you stay home if you felt bad?”

“Didn’t hit me until 6th period.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

Harley groans again and lets his phone fall on the bed. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, I’m a real stickler.”

“Oh my god. Maybe it’d be better to be alone than to deal with your rancid cheese.”

“Oh yeah, Tony and Pepper are gone this weekend, huh?”

“Yeah.” Harley rolls onto his side and props the phone up against a pillow.

“But, like, you’re not alone at the Tower, right?”

“I mean, security is here, but hell if I’m getting any of them to go get me food.”

“Door Dash and Grub Hub exist.”

“Yeah, but they’re overpriced.”

“You live with a billionaire, Harley.”

“Mama raised a Frugal Hoosier.”

Peter sighs.

“So I’m guessing all of this is because you want me to come over?”

“Maybe.”

Peter looks at his phone. “I’m leaving for patrol soon. I’ll come over after?”

“Fine. Leave me to wither alone.” Harley grumbles into his comforter.

“You’re fine. It’ll pass soon. Time to go help the helpless. Adios!”

“Bye.”

Peter clicks off of the call and clicks open his Spider suit unit. He does feel a little guilty for leaving Harley all alone when he’s not feeling well, but he seems fine enough to Peter, if not a little glassy-eyed and flushed. He supposes he can make it up to his friend by bringing something by that night, and resolves to do so as he swings out his window and into the night.

-------

It’s 9:03PM when Peter latches onto the outside of the Tower, feeling a little guilty for leaving his patrol early but proud at how much he got done in a few hours.

Peter crawls up to Harley’s window and taps on the glass, frowning when a few moments pass without movement or a reply. “Harley?” Peter knocks again. “Hey, Karen? Can you patch me through to FRIDAY?”

“Sure. Connecting Peter Parker to Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth.”

“Hello, Peter.”

“Hey, FRI. Where’s Harley?”

“Just a moment. Harley Keener is in the west lavatory on the top floor. He seems to be in distress.”

“Does Tony know?”

“He insisted that I did not tell Boss, and the request does not violate known protocols.”

“That’s hard to believe.” Peter has crawled to Harley’s bathroom window by now and knocks lightly on the window pane. “Hey, Harls?”

There’s a muffled grunt and shuffling like socked feet on tile before the window slides open. “Don’t call me that. Too close to what I just did.”

Harley moves aside for Peter to climb through the window. The healthy teen looks his friend up and down. “Aw, man.”

“I know. I look incredible for a guy who just puked his guts out, right?”

“Not exactly.” Peter cringes at how pale Harley’s face is, sweat beading on his forehead and eyes red-rimmed and glassy. “How long you been at it?”

“On and off for the last 3 hours or so. It’s really just been dry heaving lately. Sucks ass.”

“I can imagine. Do you know if anyone else is sick?”

“Ned and MJ are fine. I’m thinking food poisoning, honestly.”

“For real?” Peter quirks a brow and lays a hand over Harley’s forehead; it’s sweaty but not warm. “Tony buys pretty high quality food.”

“I brought some leftover Panda Express from like...”

Peter swallows. “I don’t wanna know.”

“I don’t want to think about it, honestly.” Harley swallows thickly.

“You good?”

“I dunno. It’s always a surpri-” Harley coughs and trips back to the toilet.

Peter grimaces in sympathy before following carefully behind him; he comes up behind Harley. “I’m here. Whatever you need.” He sits behind Harley and places a hand on his back.

Harley finishes dry heaving and leans heavily against the toilet as Peter lightly rubs his back.

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Hasn’t been long enough yet.”

“I’m gonna go change out of this. Be right back.” Peter slips out of the bathroom and quickly heads toward the guest room reserved for him. “Hey, FRI?”

“Yes, Peter?”

“Can you order some stuff for me?”

“Sure.”

Peter pulls out a t-shirt and sweatpants, quickly slipping into the clothes. “Does Target deliver around here?”

“With the SmartPhone Application.”

“That works. Let security know?”

“Alerting Harold Hogan, as well as Gregory Stevens, presently at the security desk.”

“Thanks, FRI.”

“Of course, Peter. What would you like to order?”

Peter leaves his room and crosses to Harley’s.

“Saltines if we don’t have them.” Peter rummages around in Harley’s drawers for something more comfortable than his sweat-soaked jeans and hoodie while listing off the sick day (or night, now) necessities. “Schweppes Ginger Ale. Plain wheat bread, none of the ones with flakes or nuts or anything. Applesauce. Tums. PeptoBismol, tablets and liquid stuff. And a whole case of water bottles.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, FRI. Let me know when it’ll be here.”

“Absolutely.”

Peter is back at the bathroom now and taps lightly on the door before entering. Any other day, he would have laughed at the now-stripped Harley, sitting in only a white t-shirt and his boxers, but his friend looks miserable as he sits propped against the bathtub, breathing hard with his eyes scrunched closed and a hand around his abdomen.

“Almost empty?” Peter mutters and taps Harley’s foot with his.

Harley cracks an eye and scrunches up his nose. “Maybe. Can’t tell if my stomach actually hurts or if being doubled over like this is habit now.”

“You wanna change clothes?”

“Why not.”

Peter turns around as Harley pushes himself up and struggles to change into fresh boxers.

“I’m covered.”

Peter turns back around and clenches his jaw at how exhausted Harley looks. “Here.” Peter unfolds the new t-shirt and kneels, laying it beside him before reaching out to pull up the sides of Harley’s soaked shirt. Normally, Harley would protest and bat Peter’s hands away or make a joke about Peter seducing him, but now Harley is pliable as he slowly raises his arms, allowing Peter to gently dress him. Peter cradles his feet as he slides the sweats on but allows Harley to finish the job.

“Feel better?”

“A little.” Harley mumbles. “Damn jeans were chafing me from all the damn sweat.”

“I’m sorry, but at least you’re comfy now.”

“This sucks ass.”

Peter sits next to Harley, and the blond drops his head onto Peter’s shoulder. Peter wraps an arm around Harley’s shoulder, and the boy slumps heavily against him at the confirmed invitation. Harley lets out a deep sigh.

They sit like that for a little while, until Peter’s butt and legs start to tingle, and he’s wondering if Harley has dozed off.

“Peter?”

“Yes, FRI?”

“Your delivery items have arrived.”

“Your what?” Harley mutters, hardly audible through his heavy lips.

“Thanks, FRI.”

“Mr. Stevens is bringing the items up.”

“Have him leave them in the kitchen, please.”

“Got it.”

“What’d you order?”

“Everything to make you feel better. You feel up to finding out?”

Harley considers for a moment before lifting his head slowly. He stares across the room for a moment before closing his eyes and nodding.

Peter rises and holds his hands out for Harley to take; he easily pulls the boy to his feet but moves slowly to be conscientious of Harley’s state.

The boy stands unsteadily for a moment before grabbing on to the vanity counter. “Guess I don’t quite have my sea legs yet.” Harley jokes dryly.

“Here.” Peter turns around and gestures. “I can carry you.”

“Geez, Parker, I’m not totally out of commission. What if I get motion sick or something?”

“I’ll be careful. Better to get it over with.”

Harley huffs before wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck; he lifts one leg which Peter easily takes and hoists up the other, settling against Peter’s back with a grunt.

“Where to?”

“Bedroom is closest.”

It’s a little awkward logistically because of the inches Harley has on Peter, but Peter manages his weight easily. Peter walks steadily into the living room, Harley’s hot, stale breath on his neck making him a little queasy, and stops before carefully depositing the boy on the bed.

“FRIDAY?” Harley croaks out pitifully. “Fan.”

“Of course.”

Harley groans in relief and curls up on top of his covers.

“I’ll be right back.”

Harley grunts in reply as Peter heads out into the kitchen and quickly returns with his spoils and a small stack of bowls and a cup.

“Feel like eating anything?”

“Maybe in a little bit.” Harley’s voice is a whisper as he pries open an eye. “What you have?”

“Crackers, of course, Ginger Ale. Applesauce. Pepto and Tums if you need them. And lots of water.”

“You really are a mother hen, Parker.”

“Only for you, Keener.”

“Don’t tell Ned.”

“He knows nothing can outdo our sacred bromance.”

“We’re cutting it pretty close here.”

“What sounds edible?”

“Water and Tums for now. I’ll let you know about the other stuff.”

Peter helps Harley sit up to chew on a few of the antacid tablets and sip some water before he collapses again.

“Scoot.” Peter nudges Harley, and the latter raises a brow. “I’m not going back home. I already texted May; I’m staying with you until Tony and Pepper get back tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Harley pulls himself over and Peter settles against the bed’s headboard with his ankles crossed. Harley’s head is against his thigh, and he carefully rests his hand there. Harley doesn’t protest, so Peter slowly moves his fingers through Harley’s hair, like May does for him when he doesn’t feel well.

They sit in silence for a moment. “Did you tell him?”

“Not yet.”

Harley groans. “Don’t.”

“Why’d you tell FRIDAY not to?”

“Didn’t want him to worry. You know he’s a worrier. Worse than you.” Harley sighs and looks up between Peter and his stomach. Peter nods and Harley scoots up, resting his head on Peter’s stomach, the latter’s hand still running ministrations through his hair.

“Wanna watch anything?” Peter whispers.

“Mmmm nothing I actually have to watch.” Harley replies, eyes closed lightly for sleep instead of clenched in pain. Finally, progress.

“Hmm....Disney?”

“Whatever.”

“Finding Nemo?”

“Depressing, but sure. Sadie loves it, so I’ve seen it 12,000 times.” Harley yawns through the hyperbolic estimation, and Peter gives a breathy snort.

“Perfect. We love an orphan story.”

“His dad’s alive.”

“I meant me.”

Harley lightly nudges Peter’s leg.

“FRIDAY? TV on...My movies...Finding Nemo.”

They make soft banter throughout the beginning of the movie, Harley’s voice getting quieter as his breaths get heavier, and soon he is dead weight against Peter, his arm having snaked around Peter’s waist to hold him like a beloved stuffed animal.

Peter looks down at Harley’s face, now snuggled into his abdomen, and can’t help the grin on his lips. Harley finally looks at peace, if not hilarious, and Peter can’t resist reaching down for his phone. He jumps when Tony Stark’s contact jumps out at him in a FaceTime request, and quickly gropes around for Harley’s AirPods before popping them in, answering the call, and swiping to his settings.

“Hey-hold on-okay.” Peter settles back in again, one hand holding his phone and the other on Harley’s back, and whispers, “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, Squirt.”

“You don’t seem surprised to find me here.”

“We have Find My Friends or whatever set up, remember, kid? Part of the phone upgrade deal.”

“That whole thing was your idea. I told you I didn’t need a new phone.”

“Besides the point. What’s got you all whispery in the Tower?”

“Harley’s asleep.”

“Really? It’s barely past 10.”

“He’s sick.”

“Sick how? How sick? Why didn’t I know?”

“Food poisoning doesn’t align with any of the alert protocols. It’s technically not biologically sick, and it’s not true poisoning.”

“Shocking. No wonder FRIDAY’s been so quiet. That little shit would find a loophole unintentionally.”

Peter rolls his eyes.

“So, how is he?”

“Asleep. Hurled his guts out earlier.”

Tony cringes in sympathy. “Nasty stuff. How’d he get it?”

“Leftover Panda, probably.”

“Dammit, kid. I told him that junk had gone off.”

“Yeah, well, it is Harley.” Peter angles the camera down, and Tony’s eyes turn down at the sides as he studies the slumbering Harley.

“He holding anything down?”

“He’s only had water and Tums. We’ll find out in the morning.”

“If you say so. Let me know if you need anything, okay? Pep and I will be back ASAP tomorrow.”

“Take your time. We’re all good here.”

Tony smiles. “I know. He’s in good hands.” Tony looks past his phone. “Gotta go, Spider-Kid. See you tomorrow.”

“See you. Bye, Mr. Stark.”

Peter sets the phone on the nightstand and slowly reaches down to grab a throw Harley had brought from Rose Hill, a Granny Square pattern his mom had crocheted for him as a gift. A small piece of Tennessee in the middle of the big city. Harley makes a low noise in his throat in protest of the movement, but sighs and holds tighter onto Peter when they settle in again, his nose buried in the front of Peter’s shirt.

“Lights, please, FRIDAY.” The lights dim to a very dim glow, and Peter sighs. “Night, Harls.” Peter whispers with one last ministration over the boy’s back.

“Night...” Harley’s words carry along the air, light and barely there. “Love you, Pete.”

Peter blinks. Harley’s a great friend, loyal, hardworking, and will punch anyone’s teeth in with little need for reason, but affection is low on the list of Harley Keener characteristics. He’s not sure he heard correctly, so he carefully replies, “Love you, too, Harls.”

A ghost of a smile tugs on Harley’s lips and vanishes before Peter can blink, and Peter melts into a grin. Sick Harley is whiny, needy Harley, but also a loving Harley that Peter could get used to.

Peter closes his eyes and starts to doze, his hand still one Harley’s back when the pair wakes in the morning, stiff and sleepy but satisfied at making it through the night.

Harley would chomp down the scrambled eggs Peter makes and poke at him for the weird looks he keeps giving Harley, throwing snowballed napkins when Peter refuses to tell him why.

#febufluff #febufluff 2020 #febuwhump #febuwhump 2020 #irondad #spiderson #mine #spiderbabyfic #harley keener #peter parker #really platonic but if you want to read romantic you probably could but not my thing

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gatsbyjwilson · 5 years ago

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The Highlight Reel (A Cautionary Tale)

“Uh huh. And you say you went to Parnidge University and studied film?”

“P-Partridge, Sir.”

“Huh.”

Two gleaming black eyes stared back across the cluttered, coffee-stained desk to examine the short, spindly, and overdressed specimen opposite them.

“T- Technically I studied accounting with a minor in film- my Mom told me to do that in case ‘The whole Hollywood Thing doesn’t work out.’”

It was remarkable how the beady little man sitting nervously in front of the heavy-set producer was able to keep his armpits dry. It was the hottest day in June, and the sun had only just begun to creep towards the West over the hills. Donny had already removed his jacket and loosened his tie, and even with the rickety old fan spinning precariously over the desk, Don was sweating up a storm. The pencil-neck opposite him, on the other hand, seemed acclimated to the hotter-than normal weather. “Kid’s so thin, maybe they can’t wring no sweat outta him no more.”

The fat man allowed himself the shadow of a chuckle at the thought.

“So uh, why aren’t you applying to be an accountant?”

“That’s not what I want to be, Sir.”

“So why the hell’ve you majored in accounting?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself.”

Those beady, tight-knit eyes wandered across the room. Maybe they were searching for a way out, maybe they were just admiring the torn and faded posters on the wall of an ancient age forgotten long ago- the early eighties.

“So-”, The past-his-prime producer started, wiping his brow with a stained Roy Rogers napkin, “You wanna be a comedian.”

“Well, I’m already a comedian, I want to host my own late night show.” Cracking his first non-forced smile, the eager young man continued- “It’s been my dream since I was a little boy watching Letterman on my little rinky-dink TV.”

At this, Donny was now thoroughly amused.

“Heh. You wanna know what my dream was as a kid?” He said, as his fat lips curved into a long, unnerving grin, “A Janitor. Always had my eyes set on a spiffy blue uniform- cleaning up, lending a helping hand- then I realized how much of a shit job that is.” His coffee-stained teeth once again receded past his swollen jowls, resuming his exhausted, resting face. Dropping the paper clearly in the already resume-stuffed wastebasket, he once again drew his discouraging grin and spat- “I’ll think about it.”

***

Leaning back into the well-worn seats of his Camaro, the previously well-postured man dropped any hint of optimism and sank into the seat, loosening a cheap coffee labelled ‘BENJAMEN’ from its holder. The sun was well-set by now, and pounding rain had settled nicely into the area, draining remorselessly over the Hollywood Hills. A hole in the roof above the passenger seat had begun to drip into the car, but at this point Ben didn’t care. Wrenching himself into an upright posture, he drew a small notebook from his pinstriped breast-pocket. He crossed out Happy Times Studios from the list, marking the end of the page. Two straight months of interviews and cheerful schmoozing had left him with nothing. No money, no job, and no prospects. The drive from Ohio was a long one, but the beat-up, sickly orange 90’ Camero had made it, with some minor repairs. Ben was preparing to make the drive back in the morning. After 30 minutes of traffic and unconsciously turning to the empty slot where a radio should be, he pulled up to a tan apartment complex and turned the car off. He turned melancholically to the window. Still rain.

***

He unlocked the door to his apartment, soaking wet. At least he was home, he thought, stepping into a strategically placed land mine of cat dung. A long, drawn-out sigh emanated from his gaunt visage. Not bothering to wipe them, he kicked his shoes off and went instinctively towards the TV remote. He slumped into the leather couch, resting his feet on the broken ottoman he had propped up on a stack of books. He flipped the TV on just in time to see Tom Hanks laugh uproariously at a witticism Conan O'Brien had uttered. Ben leaned over to a half-empty Coors gathering dust on the floor by the couch. He picked it up, sniffed it, and began to sip. His eyes began to glaze over, resting unfocused on the technicolor tube TV. His cat walked steadily over to sip from the pool forming on the floor from the Coors that had leaned out of his hand as he fell asleep, drifting off into peaceful, dark, unconsciousness.

“ARE YOU A SKILLED WRITER, DIRECTOR, OR COMEDIAN???? DO YOU WANT TO BE RICH, SUCCESSFUL, AND FAMOUS???? THEN COME VISIT HIM AT 304-”

Ben shot up, knocking the ottoman off of its improvised leg. He breathed heavily, drenched in sweat. He looked around for the source of the blaring job offer. The TV played only static. He looked over at his clock radio. 3:00 AM. Silent as a mouse. Was it possible he dreamed it? More than likely, he supposed. His fatigue, momentarily lost, returned to him. “3 AM,” he thought. “I haven’t had dinner.” Ben moseyed on over to the refrigerator, drenched in the harsh fluorescent glow of his nearby lamp. He opened the door and leaned down into it, taking a pause and closing his eyes to enjoy the stream of cold air that trickled from the machine. Ben looked down into the crisper drawer, pulling out the bottom ra-

“AVENUE!!! HE’S WAITING TO SEE YOU!!! AND HE KNOWS HOW SKILLED YOU ARE, BEN!!!”

He shot back, slamming his head against the roof of the refrigerator. He fell backwards, landing hard on the linoleum floor of his kitchen. He heard it- that time he really heard it. And it said his name. His eyes darted back to the TV, which continued its inhuman lullaby of crackling sound. Nothing. Absolutely Nothing. Ben would have thought it was a friend playing a trick on him, if Ben had any friends to play tricks on him. He had left that all back in Ohio. No, this was something different. He looked to his cat, who, obviously startled by his fall, stared intently at him. He got up, ambled over to the couch once again, and lay down. He reached over and turned on the remote. The TV shut off with a fizzle of static electricity.

After 10 minutes of trying, the same warmth of sleep eluded him. He lazily opened his eyes again, peering across the room to the short hallway that led to his real bedroom and the bathroom. The cat, seemingly curious, meandered into the darkened hall. He came back a few moments later and came close to Ben’s face, and licked his nose. At this point, he was too tired to care, and continued to sluggishly watch his companion walk back to the hall and stop at the mouth. The cat remained at the entrance of the hall and meowed. A beckoning, perhaps, to another cat that had gotten into the building somehow. Ben remained on the couch, until the cat turned back to him, meowed again, and turned back to the hall. It was a quick movement, like a deer turned to a hunter in the forest, piercing black eyes shooting back at the predator.

The cat stared for what seemed like hours, unblinking. Then, in a moment of eerie stillness, the cat walked forward, being swallowed up by the darkness. With his only entertainment having left him, Ben turned to face the ceiling. “I think I’ve finally lost it,” Ben thought to himself. There was no real explanation for what he heard, besides maybe his mind thinking it heard certain words in a mix of wordless sound, the same way his eyes tricked him by making him see moving shapes in the darkness. He sat upright, gazing out at the city below. “Three in the morning and still buzzing,” he thought. The rain had ended, so Ben had put his shoes back on and donned an inconspicuous, faded, bomber jacket. Being an insomniac, he had gotten used to taking nighttime walks to clear his head and spur him into sleeping. He took his keys off the counter and walked out, prepared to take his last looks at the city he had dreamed about.

He resolved not to take the Camaro, lest he fall asleep at the wheel and never see the light of day. Instead, he began to walk into the heart of the city. The opioid epidemic had stuck this part of town hard, and it was hard to find a street corner without some junkie muttering to himself or dancing off to wonderland thanks to the needle in his arm. Tonight was different, though. Perhaps some good samaritan had opened up a new homeless shelter, for tonight, the streets were clean of addicts and alcoholics. He walked through streetlight after streetlight, closed storefront after closed storefront, the scenery so decrepit and frequent it seemed the walls were simply repeating themselves every block. Coming to a four-way intersection, Ben looked up at the street signs to get his bearings and begin to head home. The chill of the night breeze had finally set into his bones.

When he looked up, the street names were unknown to him, so he had the option to either double back on Ciacco Street or turn onto Sordello. He attempted to look for the shining lights of the Sunset Strip to give him some sense of direction, but the boarded up shops and apartments stooped far too high for Ben to get a sense of his location. He turned onto Sordello, and passed by a fenced-off psychiatric hospital. What was left of the sign read ‘ST. BERN RD A YLUM’. A small pink sheet on the front of the wrought-iron gates read ‘CONDEMNED’. Mildly unnerved by the rotting exterior of the place, Ben pulled his jacket tighter to him and continued on. The chill still clung to him, no matter how close he pulled it.

Rounding another corner past the asylum, he walked onto a long, dark, and eerily quiet street. He stepped out onto the road and looked down. Cobblestone paving. He was in a far older part of town. He looked back to the corner he had just rounded and saw only darkness at the cutoff. The last streetlight he had passed had gone out. The new street was oddly clean. The chill had left his bones, he remarked. He still had no idea where he was. He decided to find some 24 hour bodega and borrow their phone. None of the lights in the shop were on, except for a small decorated lantern that hung over a wooden sign.

Ben walked closer to the sign, peering up at the faded paint. ‘FOUST’S APOTHECARY’, it read, and he pushed open the wooden door with the same name written on it in gold lettering. There was the brief chime of the door’s petite silver bell. It was a small shop with a counter and hardwood flooring, all neatly polished. He looked beyond the counter and saw a shelf with columns and rows of bottles marked with tiny labels that were impossible to read without a magnifying glass. He sat down in a leather bar seat and ran his hands over the wooden counter. Was it open? Would he have to-

“I wasn’t under the impression that we would receive customers tonight,” Remarked a thin old man dressed in scarlet from the corner of the shop. “Not many people show up here at all, so I’d hardly expect someone, especially at this hour.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that- you see my car is at my apartment and I got lost while walking, and-”

“Oh, slow down a bit, young man, I know exactly why you’re here.”

Ben’s brow furrowed slightly, and the man in the corner put down his dense manuscript and stood up to shake his hand.

“Well you need medicine! Why else would you have wandered into an apothecary at this time of night. You’re in your hour of need, and no one else will help you. Well, as it so happens I am just the man you seek. Doctor Johann Faust- at your service.”

He walked around the counter with long strides, removing some bottles from the shelf and placing them on the counter with a swiftness Ben hadn’t expected from such an old man.

“That’s very kind of you Sir, but really I just need to borrow your pho-”

The scarlet man cut him off- “Yes, yes, just a minute, I’ll get to that. You happen to have some more pressing matters, I believe.”

At this point Ben was too tired to interject, and elected to simply lean on the counter and let the scarlet-clad doctor rattle off his sales pitch.

“Benjamin, I am a man who solves problems. And many times they aren’t simply illnesses of the mind or of the body. They’re illnesses of the soul. Have you ever felt like you were simply meant to do something, but you are impaired somehow? This is an illness of the soul, you see. You were always meant for the silver screen, but the cruel and ignorant men above you simply wish to stop you from rising to the top.”

At this, Ben sat up. He had never told this man his name, much less his plight of reaching his dream as a host. He wanted to get up and leave, but everything around him told him to not move and stay exactly where he was. He could leave, but the back of his mind kept him in his chair. The impending, screaming sensation that if he left now, he would lose out on a once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity.

“H-How do you know that?” Ben sputtered out. “I never told you any of that.”

The old man stopped what he was doing and stood up straight. He turned around and peered into Ben’s eyes. It was only now that he realized that the Doctor was quite a bit taller than him. The velvety voice began again:

“You didn’t need to. It was all written there on your face. You see, all throughout my life I have seen poor, innocent people suffer because of the actions of those above them. How is it that the people who should never lead become the mightiest of the mighty? It’s just so... unfair. So I make it my business to help those less fortunate people achieve their goals. All pro bono, of course.”

Ben looked back at the eyes of the frail man in front of him. He seemed so kind, so purely helpful, like an innocent child who simply wants to help another reclaim the swing set he was pushed from. But his eyes… They spoke of something deeper, something darker and more purely maleficent than anything Ben had seen before. The Doctor turned and returned to his task. The pillowy baritone of the pharmacist resumed:

“I can help you, Ben. You and I both simply want the same thing. To bring joy to everyone. To dethrone the ignorant simpletons who have made themselves the kings of kings.”

The man turned to face him once again, and placed a small vial of a dark, glittering liquid before him. “Fallacem Argentum- a very rare and specialty concoction. It has the rather helpful effect of making anyone seem hilarious and confident- the two most important qualities of a show host, don’t you agree?” Ben instinctively reached for it, but his hands were guided away from the vial by the Doctor. “I’m afraid, Benjamin, that you need a prescription for this, and that’s something you simply don't have. However,” The Doctor started, holding the bottle up to the light, “I can write you one- in exchange for a small favor.” Ben was fixed on the vial. Everything was leading up to this. This is what he needed. This is who he was. Ben had already disturbed the pharmacist by intruding at this late hour, so if he could repay him with whatever favor he needed, it would be only fair.

“Anything.”

A thin smile crept up the sides of Foust’s face, contorting his features to reveal a deep eagerness at Ben’s agreement.

“There will come a time when I require your service. At a time least expected, I will be there to claim what is rightfully mine. That’s all there is- I’ve already collected the down payment before you left.”

With this, the Doctor placed the bottle in front of him once more, and Ben grabbed it unimpeded.

“How does it work?” He asked, eyes still locked intently on the bottle.

“Simply take one drop for confidence and humor, two drops for fame and fortune, and three drops…” The Doctor’s face fell a bit. He looked from the bottle to Ben’s eyes, which had momentarily broken their gaze from the bottle.

“Three drops for what?”

“Three drops, my boy, will lead you down a path you may never want to walk. Three drops and your fame and fortune will be… eternal. But all who have tried have regretted it. They were simply too weak-willed for it, I suppose. They just didn’t have the Passion. Best to just stick with two, then.”

The pharmacist produced a small red-leather ledger and placed it in front of Ben.

“Simply sign here, a good hearty handshake, and then you’re off.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The eager smile returned to the Doctor’s gaunt face. Ben suddenly found himself holding an ornate fountain pen. The handle was made of what seemed to be polished obsidian, and the deeper Ben peered into the side of it, the more he wondered if he would lose his mind in the endless, spiraling darkness. Ben was so tired. If he just signed, he could go back to sleep and be left alone. All he needed to do was-

A short, clear tap on the ledger indicating where he was to write his name brought him back to reality. He paused, reading over the names. So many people… Who was this guy? Wait a second- what was he doing here? He needed to get home, to feed his cat, to-

Before he knew it, Ben had signed the paper quickly, and the pen, suddenly wielding an immense weight, dropped from his hand. The scarlet man closed the book and placed both it and the pen in his breast pocket. He offered a bony hand.

Ben shook it.

The face of the pharmacist was whipped into utter delight. He let loose a deep, hearty chuckle. All previous refinement lost, he said-

“You can go.”

***

Ben started up in his bed. It was dawn, and the rays of the California sun had finally broken through the blinds to wake him. Everything that had happened the night before seemed fuzzy. Ethereal. Unreal. He walked over to the large bag of cat food and filled a bowl marked ‘EMBERS’. He looked around for the cat, who usually came running at the slightest hint of food. The soft pitter-patter of his feet never came.

Ben didn’t think much of it. After all, cats were lazier than most humans. He rose from the food bowl and suddenly stopped. His eyes were locked with an inky black vial on the counter.

He paused for a while, the memories of the previous night flooding back to him. The Asylum, the empty streets, the unnatural chill of the nocturnal air settling into his bones- it all came back. The eyes of the Doctor. Even now, he felt the endless abyss behind them boring holes into the most secluded parts of his being.

He put one hand on the bottle, and sloshed the liquid inside around. It was dense, like mercury. He debated simply tossing it out and considering the events of the past night a ‘stress-induced psychotic break’. “I would, but I paid for this-” He paused for a moment to briefly recall the events of the previous night once more. How much did he pay for this? Faust had said he wrote the prescription as a favor, but he had no memory of what he had given him in return.

He momentarily shook himself back to reality and looked around for Embers. He walked toward the hall where he had watched the cat slowly enter the previous night, but stopped at the entrance.

“I’ve already collected the down payment.”

The Doctor’s words echoed back to him now. He stared into the hall, which even now in pure daylight was held in a subtle darkness, with the door to the bathroom being closed and the windows in the bedroom covered by the curtains, which had been drawn shut. He lingered for a moment, and turned to face the bottle once again.

It felt like days, staring into the inky liquid in the bottle. Considering what he would do with it now that he had it. “How bad could it be? Two drops of anything can’t kill me,” He thought to himself. He went to the cupboard above the counter and removed a small coffee cup, placing it down next to the bottle. He put it under the faucet and filled it. Then, carefully unscrewing the lid of the bottle, he drew some of the liquid into the dropper and held it for a moment, careful not to release any of the pressure from his fingertips.

He kept the dropper suspended above the water.

“One drop for confidence and humor, two drops for fame and fortune, and three drops-”

Two drops of the onyx liquid fell into the cup. Ben’s hand held still over the cup for a moment, as if to tempt fate for another drop to fall from it. None did. He downed the cup. The liquid was bitter at first, but his tongue quickly acclimated to the taste. He recognised it from somewhere, but couldn’t put his finger on it. It was like a childhood dish with a main element removed- enough to offer the memory, but merely a shadow of what it truly was.

He stepped out into the air, which had changed rapidly from a blazing heat yesterday to a room-temperature atmosphere. Perhaps it was a few degrees too cold. The sudden focus on the sensation of the air on his skin reminded him of how fervently his sneakers chafed. It seemed completely normal, and yet, a creeping uneasiness stayed with Ben no matter where he went.

He began to walk toward his favorite cafe, a small, unambitious little shop owned by an immigrant family from Japan. Nice folk, yet the mother had the unappealing tendency to stare with intense scrutiny at anyone who entered. As a consequence, it was always empty. This was a bonus to Ben.

He walked in, and offered a slight wave to the mother’s 10-year-old boy, who sat in the back corner of the sun-bleached shop playing something on his GameBoy. The wave, to Ben’s dismay, went unnoticed. The mother, Pauline, emerged from the backroom and gave a warm smile, which was quickly snuffed at the sight of Ben’s wrinkled flannel.

“The usual?”

Actually, I was thinking a rum and coke this morning.

“Actually, I was thinking a rum and coke this morning.”

A brief, yet hearty chuckle emanated from Pauline. Where had that come from? He didn’t know, but he was proud of it. “A nice way to start my last day here.” Ben thought to himself.

“If you find one, get one for me too.”

Pauline began making a double-shot espresso, Ben’s favorite, and he left the cash on the counter and sat down. He looked out the large glass windows to gaze lazily across the street. The sun was in the first third of the sky, and the smell of the coffee had brightened his mood. Today was going to be a good day.

He went up to the counter and took the espresso. He resumed sitting, and took a long sigh. In that moment, Ben seemed to be held in a peculiar stillness, as if his entire life had been slightly blurred, and only now came into focus. He noticed every little thing. The pallid creak of the plastic chair he was sitting in that accompanied every slight movement. The furious, yet practiced clicking of the GameBoy. The dull hiss of steam from the coffee makers. It all seemed so real, so present, and yet- so disconnected. Despite the lucidity in which he viewed his surroundings, Ben couldn’t find himself immersed in it. He felt held within his own interior stillness, quiet and unnoticed by the outside world.

He stepped out of the shop and began to walk back to his apartment. Just then, a neon-swept teenager on a skateboard shoved a flyer into his hands. The teen sped past and absentmindedly shouted “Come to open mike night at The Hooligan House!” Ben looked down at the dry pink paper in his hands. “Why not?” He postulated, “What the Hell?”

***

The atmosphere of the comedy club was tipsy and jovial, with silver-tongued crooners smooth-talking to well-dressed ladies scattered throughout the club. People of all sorts were here, and the only one who felt out of place was Ben. He slipped into one of the front-row booths and sat down. A waitress came up to him and he asked for a beer. He sipped the foamy liquid courage and turned towards the stage.

“Uh, welcome to open mike night here at California’s own HH.”

The dull announcement was met with thunderous applause and cheers from across the club. The obviously stoned, flannel-clad man continued.

“Basically the rules are you have a max of five minutes, no racist or sexist shit, y’all know the drill.”

A man dressed in a loose polo went up. He flashed a cheesy smile, grabbed the mike with familiar confidence, and began:

“You know, I recently had to put my mom in a nursing home.”

The audience met this with sympathetic sighs.

“Yeah, her house parties were loud as hell- I couldn’t get any sleep. This bitch had to go.”

Uproarious laughter showered the comedian. His routine consisted of the same type of jokes. He presented his eighty-year old mother as a virile teen going through the angst that puberty brings on. A couple other people went up, and something deep inside Ben said:

Get up there. Show em’ what you’ve got.

Ben scooted out of his seat and briskly walked up to the microphone. There were scattered claps throughout the establishment. In an effort to hide his shaky hands he gripped it with both hands and began. He peered into the black faceless mass that was the crowd. He paused for a moment, trying to remember his jokes. He cursed under his breath. He’d left his book at home. I suppose he’d have to improvise. His mind was blank- he frantically racked his brain for anything resembling a joke when he heard a voice, perhaps his own, begin to speak.

“So the other day I was walking home, and I saw this homeless guy sweeping the streets with a branch.”

Small chuckles came from the crowd. The voice continued, and Ben was in a trance- was the voice his own? He’d never know. All he knew was that he was talking and it was working.

“First of all- good for him for keeping his community clean.”

A hearty laugh came from the crowd. Ben relaxed his grip.

“It’s not every day you see someone like that. I was honestly so surprised I just kinda watched him do it. At least he’s trying, right? Just look at him go- sweeping in two directions so the dirt stays in the same place. By far the most responsible crackhead I’ve seen in a while. He compares only to good ol’ Stabby Power-washes-the-street. Both upstanding men in the community.”

Ben continued on, caught in a stupor of the limelight- The words flowed effortlessly out of him- he didn’t need to think and they were already there, sent out to the crowd for them to devour. He finished his set and sat down. The audience cheered. The stoned manager from before came out and wished everyone a good night. People got up to leave, and as Ben was putting on his coat, a hand gripped his shoulder. Ben spun around and was face to face with a well-dressed little man in his forties, who stood a good foot shorter than him.

“Rick Barnaby- Talent Agent.”

He flicked a sleek black business card out to him and thrust it into his hands.

“And you got talent, kid. Real talent. The way you had that crowd busting their guts? Beautiful. Listen, gimme a call if you’re interested in working as a writer or something. There are tons of small studios in the hills that would love a guy like you!”

The balding man clapped him on the shoulder and walked away. Ben couldn’t help a smile from flooding over his face. He turned to the bar and asked to settle his tab.

The cheeky comedian from earlier sat at the bar, staring at him.

“You know, you’ve got chops, I’ll give you that. Guys like Barnaby are small fry- He goes after every wide-eyed comedian who can get a chuckle out of these idiots.”

Any previous levity was gone from the comedian’s face. He emptied his glass and got up.

“You want my advice? Wait until the big names go for you- but for that you need a club a lot bigger than this one.” He turned to the barkeep and gestured to his empty glass. “That one’s on him.” The now-sullen comedian quickly departed.

Ben begrudgingly paid his tab, along the extra charge for the other comedian’s drink. He stepped out into the sweet Hollywood air. The city glistened across the darkness. It was like the whole place was stuck in a haze of limelight. Before, He was nothing. Now, the city was his. He stepped off into the darkness.

***

Ben awoke yet again into a day he thought wouldn’t happen. He once again stared into the inky black liquid. He strode past the untouched food bowl, eyes locked in place with the vial. He outstretched his hand to it, but quickly withdrew it. He got another mug and placed it near the coffee maker.

All who have tried it have regretted it. They just didn’t have the Passion.

He picked the mug up again and filled it with water. He placed the mug on the counter next to the vial. What was he doing? The Doctor had said that all who have done it have regretted it.

Because they didn’t have the Passion.

Ben looked at the vial again.

“I have passion.”

Yes, Benjamin, you do. The people who regretted it didn’t have the same fire you possess.

“W-what if I don’t? What if it’s really not in me?”

There are always a million reasons not to do something. All this worry is so… negative. Let go of your inhibitions.

Ben unscrewed the cap and dropped the third drop in. He downed the cup. The taste was the same alluding flavor- but he was more passive to the subtle bitterness now. He knew that this was truly him.

He stepped out into the daylight- ready to make his way in the world. He was gripped by the strong sensation that the world was his. He had the fire. He had fought for this. Now it was time. Time to become the man he always wanted to be.

He stepped onto the crosswalk, not noticing the flatbed truck hurtling out of his peripheral vision. Ben took his last step with profound purpose. And all the world was gone.

***

“AHAHA, HOLY SHIT!”

Ben was in a leather armchair, face to face with a slender, neatly dressed man sitting across a dark mahogany desk. He was cackling and slamming the desk with laughter. Every beat against the hard wood was deafening. The true sadistic nature of the laugh made Ben fall sick to his stomach.

The fireplace burned brightly behind the still-laughing man. The eager flares mimicked the chaotic swelling of the laughter. All around the office was dark wood. He wanted to turn around, but fear kept him in his place.

“Ohh, ohh, oh my goodness-”

The man’s face rose from his desk and he wiped a tear from his eye. His skin color was an aggressive crimson. A horrible realization dawned on Ben. The truck- wait- How did he survive? Unless… The realization shot into him brutally.

“That is, without a doubt- one of the best ones I’ve seen. I mean, you took the third drop and, like, immediately get hit by a truck. I mean, hot damn. Wow. Really, really, great stuff. Okay- let’s take a little look-see at your file here.”

A bright red folder produced itself in a quick burst of flame. The man opened it and began to read, mouthing most of the words. Wild expressions darted across his face with every new sentence, most of them being jovial surprise.

“Excuse me but what am I-”

The man made a ‘Shut-your-mouth’ gesture with his hands and Ben fell silent. Ben put a hand to his mouth and felt around it. He gagged- It was sewn shut. He traced his fingers over the stitches and let loose a muffled scream. The scream was met with not even an apathetic glance from the man. He kicked his feet up onto the desk and sank back into his leather chair. He tossed the folder into the fireplace behind him.

“So, uh, normally Paul, the demon in charge of your case, would be the one doing this, but he’s uhh, kind of busy right now, so here I am. You know, I almost turned down this overtime shift. But this… oh this is definitely worth it. Now, unless you’re a full-blown brickhead, you’ve probably figured out where you are by now.”

The demon let loose an excessive, toothy grin.

“You can talk, genius.”

Ben took in a sharp breath and felt around his lips. No stitches, no scars.

“W-wasn’t I h-h-hit by the t-t-”

“Ehh, wuh-wuh-wuh, buh-buh-buh, Speak up, moron. Yeah, you’re in the ol’ H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks all right. In here for a doozy of a sin, too. Deal with the Big Guy, huh? How’d you manage a score with the head honcho ‘round here? Ya sleep with him?”

The demon once again launched into cackling laughter.

“Naw, naw, I’m just giving you a hard time. Don’t take it personally. I do this to everybody, it’s sort of my job. You get it.”

Ben looked around for cameras. Perhaps this was some sort of practical joke? He thought if perhaps he just waited a bit, a man with a clipboard would come out and tell him he made tonight’s news, and that California 48 would be televising his reaction to the prank.

No such relief came.

The... Demon? Man? Hapless actor? It didn’t matter. The beet-red, snappily dressed thing that sat across from him was nothing short of delighted to be looking over his file. Ben gathered the courage to look around. A ludicrous amount of mahogany. Behind him, at the back of the room, was a large aquarium with a beefy coconut crab.

“You know, that’s the crab that ate Amelia Earhart..”

“What?”

Ben turned back around to face the demon, who was leaning far across the desk, studying every aspect of Ben’s terrified expression. The demon sank back and looked at his watch.

“Oh, shit. We gotta get you out to hair and makeup right now.”

“W-what?”

The demon immediately grew a short beard that didn’t cover his chin, and a puffy afro.

“SAY ‘WHAT’ AGAIN! I DARE YOU, I DOUBLE-DARE YOU!”

Ben fell backwards, out of his chair. His head hit the hardwood with a bang. An intense, sharp sting immediately pulsed from the back of his head. The demon once again launched into violent laughter, and then pulled him upright in his chair again.

“Oh, my bad, guy. I can’t have you all fuzzy for what’s about to happen. I was just kidding about hair and makeup, by the way. You go out just as ugly as you are now.”

Hair and makeup? What the hell was he on about? There wasn’t any-

A neatly dressed, presumably female, demon with her hair in a tight bun quickly opened the door and leaned in.

“You’re on in five, Cal.”

“Thanks, Toots.”

She looked at Ben and squealed excitedly.

“Is that the guy?”

Cal responded cheerily, “Yep. In the… well, I guess you wouldn’t say flesh.”

The assistant once again squealed excitedly, and then quickly left and shut the door.

Ben, collecting his bearings, sputtered out,

“Look, I think you have the wrong guy. I-I’m not a bad person, I j-just-”

Cal looked at his watch and smiled.

“Showtime!”

He snapped his fingers, and it felt for a brief moment that a fireball had covered Ben. Not enough to burn him, but enough to flash-heat him and startle him again. This time, he was behind a dark red curtain. The neatly-dressed demon from earlier was right next to him.

“I’m Prinne. I’m an Assistant Executive. I just wanted to say, on behalf of all of us, how much your sheer stupidity means to us. Really it's… inspiring. Oop- this is you. Bad luck!”

She scurried off somewhere, and the heavy curtains swept open before Ben, momentarily blinding him from the industrial lighting. He briefly heard,

“... Ben Harding!”

A jazz orchestra flooded out an upbeat piece, as Cal walked over and moved him to a plush suede couch. He could barely hear anything of the swarm of cheers that washed over Ben. Cal sat down at a desk next to him.

“Isn’t he great, folks?! Look at that- two arms, two legs- the works!”

This was met with guffawing laughter. The crowd quieted down, and Ben’s focus turned towards Cal. Cal was beaming, and he took a sip from a cup that Ben was positive wasn’t coffee.

“So, Ben. I always start my guests with the same question-”

The crowd finished his sentence loudly.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

Ben stuttered, his mind blank.

“A-a TV show?” was all he managed to get out.

Cal turned to the crowd inquisitively. “What do you think, people, did he get it?”

There was a loud mix of ‘Boos’ and cheers. It was impossible to hear what the majority thought. Cal started again- “I’ll give you a hint, pal. I told you earlier.”

Ben somehow turned paler than he was before.

“Oh, God…”

“NOPE! NOT FOR YOU!”

Deafening laughter resumed. Ben knew what it was. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t bring himself to admit the reality he was facing.

Cal answered for him:

“You know what, guy? I’m a kind fella, so I’ll take that pale, mortal face o’ yours as the correct answer! You’re in…”

Once again the crowd responded.

“HELL!”

A red, flashing marquis sign lowered, illuminating the word. The crowd burst out with laughter once more. As Ben stared directly up at it, he began to weep uncontrollably. This was simply too much to handle. He wanted to go home! He wanted to hug his mother! He wanted to see his cat again!

“What’s that? Your cat? Why would you want to see him again? HE’S THE ONE THAT BROUGHT YOU TO OUR ATTENTION!”, Cal shouted with sheer glee.

Ben was confused beyond words, beyond thought. Cal continued.

“That’s right! He did! If you still want to say ‘Hi’ to your little buddy, then good news! He’s here in the audience tonight!”

A spotlight wheeled around to shine on Embers in the front row, sitting upright, like a human, waving a paw at the cameras and smiling to the extent that a cat could smile.

Cal began again-

“You see, I don’t know if you realized this, but cats just tend to walk between Hell and the mortal plane all the time! It’s just kinda a thing they do. I think the real tug-at-your-heartstrings of it all was the fact that even though you loved him, even though you fed him, even though you cleaned up his stanley steamers all his life, he still couldn’t give a rat’s ass about YOU!”

The crowd busted a gut at this statement. Ben was speechless, staring at the dark, shapeless crowd. The spotlight returned to Cal.

“Alright, folks, It’s time for one of my favorite segments. You know the one-”

The crowd returned-

“GIVE! HIM! MORE! EYES!”

Ben, still weeping, let loose a scream of complete and utter fear for his existence. He tried to get up, but his legs simply wouldn’t allow him to do so. He beat on his legs with his fists, seemingly endlessly, hoping to get them to work, so they could speed him out of this waking nightmare.

“Aww, I think he wants to go.” Cal made a harlequinesque frown at this comment.

The crowd boomed back more laughter. Cal continued,

“Don’t worry, stupid. This next segment isn’t about you. We just want you to watch.”

Cal gestured to a platform where a man strapped to a board rose out of the ground. His mouth was sewn shut, as Ben’s had been earlier. Cal walked over to the pot-bellied, balding man and began, placard in hand.

“Our next contestant on G.H.M.E. comes to us from Snerling, Indiana. Gabriel Mortson, welcome to Give Him More Eyes!”

He screamed a suppressed wail of terror.

“Now Gabey-boy, you sexually assaulted over fifteen minors in your time on the mortal plane! How do you plead, asswipe?!”

Gabe once again wailed a muffled cry. Cal resumed,

“Sounds like ‘guilty’ to me, folks.” The crowd cheered in agreement with the verdict.

Cal bellowed another sadistic laugh and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a thousand cuts ripped across the man’s entire body. He tried his hardest to scream, but nothing came from his tightly-shut mouth. Blood oozed out of every cut, and one by one, human eyes that looked exactly like Gabriel’s own quickly festered from each cut. The muffled scream went on endlessly. Ben’s eyes were fixed, even through the tears. No desire had ever been as strong as Ben’s was for death then. What he believed was true death, an endless, peaceful sleep. Cal’s joyous expression reminded him that his belief was not the case. Gabriel, drenched in his own blood, receded down into the floor of the stage once more.

“Benny Hill! Back to you, buddy. You are an ‘especial’ case. For you, dear friend, we have a game we rarely get to play. This one is reserved specifically for people who make deals with the Big Fella!”

The crowd erupted in applause and cheered again. A small stream of urine trickled steadily down Ben’s pant leg. Cal continued.

“The rules are simple- walk down this hallway, don’t open any of the doors, and just leave!”

Ben was confused. There must be a catch. Ben was sure of it. Nothing Cal said would ever be trustworthy. Not after what he had seen.

“Alrighty then, Ben-to box! Best of luck!”

Ben saw Cal’s hand move to snap his fingers, but he was gone before he could have heard Cal’s snap. It was odd. He looked down an average hotel hallway. It looked exceedingly calm. The carpet was a stripe of red with beige on both sides. The walls were a neutral cream. Each of the doors had a small, excellently polished door knob on them. He took a step forward. There was no sound, no creak. Ben took another, and was startled by a loud crunching behind him.

He swiftly turned around, and was put somewhat at ease at the realization that it was simply an ice machine. He resumed his path forward. That was when he heard the first voice.

“Benji?”

A soft, frail voice came from the first door on the left.

“M-mom?”

Ben’s hand instinctively went towards the handle. He caught himself and whipped it back, holding both of his hands tightly in his armpits.

“Benji, please… please come in. I want to see you. Where did you go, Benji? Why did you leave me?”

Ben tried his hardest to shut out the voice by clamping his hands to his ears. It did nothing. The voice continued, as Benjamin picked up the pace moving forward. The voice grew louder and louder, coming from every door that he passed.

“Benji… Benji, please!... BENJI!... BENJI!”

The farther he got from the first door, the louder and more demonic the voice became, until it was an unholy shriek, cutting deeply into his ears, punishing him, until at once it stopped. Ben fell to his knees and assumed the fetal position, crying loudly and uncontrollably. He laid there, weeping, until he heard that voice in his head once more.

“Keep moving.”

He got up and wiped the tears out of his eyes. He turned around, and he had passed about a dozen doors by then. Only six remained before the slightly open door at the end of the hall. There was a soft golden light coming from the edge, but he couldn't see what was out there. He heard an old TV turn on inside one of the rooms.

“Now, It’s The Late Show- with Ben Harding!”

Ben continued on, passing through the doors, each one playing a variation of a late-night talk show hosted by Ben. That was, until he came to the sixth door. It was the only door with a small brass door plate in the shape of a star with ‘Benjamin Harding’ inscribed on it. Behind it, he heard:

“Where is he? He needs to be on in two minutes! We can’t have this stupid show without this stupid host!” He then heard light, but stern footsteps pace around the room. Under the door, a shadow danced accordingly. The voice behind the sixth door was the softest. Still, Ben found it the most alluring. His hand slipped out of his armpit and gently onto the knob. The handle was nice and warm. Ben was cold. Perhaps someone has opened a window. There was the same chill in his bones as there was that night. That chill that inched him forward, towards the warm, convenient shop. He felt as he did when he held the drop of the liquid above his cup.

No turning back now.

But there was. He turned to his left, and saw the final door. It’s light was warm, but not enough to warm him the way he felt the sixth door would. Ben took one final look at the sixth door, and slipped his hand off the knob. Somehow, he could feel the crowd’s disappointment, even without hearing them. That was his victory. For the first time all night, he cracked a smile. He had won. He would fix his mistake. He left the sixth door behind and exited through the final door at the hall. It was warm, just as he thought. He was standing in a field of wild wheat. He turned around and the door was gone. “Ohio.” He thought. He saw abandoned train tracks to the East, and started walking that way. It was a serene afternoon. Not humid, but breezy. A single cloud hung in the sky, moving across the horizon. He walked toward the tracks, and with a single, intense ‘thwack’, he was greeted with the loudest laughter that the crowd had let loose.

Searing, unbelievable pain shot through his leg. Ben dropped to his knee, and tried to pry off the bear trap he had stepped in. It wouldn’t budge. He looked up, and the kind, serene sun was gone. All there was was the harsh light and the crowd. Cal knelt down with him and put a hand on his shoulder. He was tearing up with laughter.

“YOU DON’T GET TO LEAVE, YOU IDIOT! I’M AFRAID THAT SHIP HAS SAILED!”

The crowd continued its tsunami of deafening laughter. Ben’s section of the stage was being lowered into the darkness, just as Gabriel had been. All Ben heard before the darkness was the crowd’s inhuman cackling, and Cal’s voice say:

“That one’s going on the Highlight Reel for sure!”

#horror #fiction #my writing #short story #dark academia #creative writing #quarentine #story

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awinchestershell · 5 years ago

Text

Whumptober Day 7: Isolation

Day 1

Peter is woken up in the middle of the night by his stomach turning and twisting painfully. He barely has time to run to the trash can before he can feel bile burning his throat and he’s coughing harshly.

He groans, falling on his back on the floor and running his hands over his face.

Just his luck. Getting sick the day after an alien invasion. The Avengers had handled it well enough, all of the aliens being either dead or captured by SHIELD. But Peter was exhausted and he could only imagine the other Avengers were as well.

He did his best to fall back asleep, but his stomach had other ideas. Peter was woken up throughout the night by debilitating stomach pains and nausea.

Finally the sun broke through the window, and Tony arrived soon after.

“Wakey wakey, kid. Time for breakfast.” Peter doesn’t respond, he just covers his eyes with his blanket.

“What’s wrong, Peter?” Tony asks, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Sick.” Is all Peter says.

“Headache?” Peter shakes his head, pointing to the trash can.

“Stomach.” Tony nods in understanding.

“Why don’t you go grab something to eat and I’ll clean up in here? Sound good?” Peter climbs out of bed with an exhausted sigh, slumping to the kitchen like a hunchback.

Tony sighs as well, walking over to the trash can. He was expecting to find chunky bile, but instead he found dark green goo.

He freezes, his brain taking several seconds to process, before he’s on his feet and sprinting out of the room.

He runs in as Steve is about to pat Peter’s shoulder. Tony rushes to them, shoving Steve away from Peter.

“Don’t touch him!” Tony screams, standing between the two of them.

“Tony, what the hell?” Natasha asks, standing up from her spot on the couch. Steve and Peter are staring at him in shock.

“Bruce! We have a problem.” Tony says, gesturing to Peter.

“What is it?” Bruce asks, walking over to Tony and Peter.

“Guqruid.” Tony whispers, fear in his eyes. Bruce’s eyes widen comically.

“But that’s impossible. We haven’t seen it in over 10 years.” Bruce insists.

“Banner, I’m telling you. The kid’s got it.” Peter startled like he’s been electrocuted.

“I’m sorry? I’ve got what?” He seems terrified by the panic in Tony’s voice.

“Nobody touch him. Everybody needs to leave right now.” Bruce demands, gently ushering Steve towards the door.

“We’re not going anywhere!” Natasha yells, swatting Tony’s hand off her shoulder.

“Listen to me. Peter is very sick, and he’s very, very contagious. You need to leave.” Steve can see that Tony is being serious, so he grabs Natasha’s wrist and pulls her out of the room.

“Dr. Banner? What do you mean, I’m very sick?” Peter seems so scared, and it makes Tony’s heart hurt.

“Peter, listen to me. This is extremely important. Yesterday, during the invasion. Did any of the aliens blood get in your mouth or nose?” Bruce asks, trying to be gentle but also urgent.

“I mean yeah, just once. And it was gross. Why? What’s wrong with me?” Peter asks, backing away from Tony and Bruce.

“Peter, Bruce and I think you have something called Guqruid. It’s an alien sickness, passed into humans by blood contact. But once in humans it’s extremely contagious.” Tony explains, and he desperately wants to put his hand on the kid’s shoulder, but him getting sick too wouldn’t help anything.

“Peter, I don’t want to scare you, but I need you to come with me to the lab immediately.” Bruce insists, gesturing for the kid to follow him.

Peter’s eyes are wide like saucers, but nonetheless he listens. When they make it to the lab, Bruce has Peter walk into a large glass chamber, about the size of his bedroom.

The room is full of assorted items and furniture. There’s a bed, a cushioned chair, even a bookshelf and a desk.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine. It’s only a quarantine.” Tony is doing his best to keep Peter calm but the kid looks like he’s about to burst.

“Will you please explain to me what the hell is going on?” Peter shouts, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“It’s called Guqruid. It progresses in stages. The first stage is vomiting. We’re not one hundred percent sure what the rest of the stages are, but only stage seven is actually dangerous.” Bruce is rambling now, already typing.

“What do you mean ‘dangerous’? Am I dying?” Peter asks, and Tony’s heart breaks.

“Don’t worry kid. We’re gonna fix it before it gets that far.” Tony assures him.

Natasha enters the lab, followed by Steve.

“What’s wrong with my маленький паук?” Nat asks, hurrying over to the glass chamber to look at Peter.

“It’s an alien disease, we’re pretty sure it’s of Chitauri origin. They carry it in their blood like rabies in a raccoon and they pass it on to foreign creatures. We’ve seen it once before ten years ago.” Bruce explains, not even looking up from his computer.

“Can you cure it?” Steve asks, warily watching the kid, who looks about ready to pass out.

“I can try. But I’ll need the blood of the aliens that infected him. Which means calling Fury.” Bruce says, and Steve is already on top of it, leaving to make the call.

“It might take me a few days, but I promise I won’t let you reach stage six.” Bruce is genuine, and Tony knows that Bruce is as worried as he is.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” Peter says, sitting down on the bed.

The next six or seven hours are rough. Steve is arguing animatedly with Fury over getting a sample of the aliens blood, Peter just wont stop vomiting and coughing, and Natasha refuses to leave the lab, no matter how many times Tony reminds her how dangerous it is to be there.

To be fair, Tony too refuses to leave.

Day 2

Peter wakes up feeling cold. He pulls the blanket on the bed up to his chin and curls his knees to his chest, but he doesn’t feel any warmer.

Frustrated, he gets up to walk around a little. He finds Natasha sitting in a chair on the other side of the glass, a kind smile on her face.

“Do you feel any better?” She asks, standing up to walk closer to the glass.

Peter shrugs, rubbing his sleeve over his forehead. He feels like he’s been dropped in the ocean. He’s absolutely soaking wet.

“I’m really sweaty but I feel like it’s thirty degrees in here.” He tells her, using a towel to rub his neck and shoulders.

“I’ll go get Bruce. I’ll be right back.” She promises, and Peter’s feels his heart warmed by how clingy she gets when he’s hurt.

She returns with Bruce two minutes later, and the older man sighs.

“You’ve progressed to stage two. This one is probably the easiest. Cold sweats, pale skin, maybe a headache, but you should be okay for now.” Bruce opens a small window in the glass, handing Peter some Advil and another towel, making sure not to touch him.

Peter gratefully accepts the pills, seeing as he can feel a headache building in the middle of his skull. That’s when Tony comes in.

“Shoo, widow. It’s my turn to watch the kid.” Tony quips, falling back into the only chair in the room.

Natasha only glares at him. “I’m not leaving.” She says.

“Natasha, go. I’ll be fine. You need sleep.” Peter assures her, a smile on his face.

She sighs, but nonetheless she relents.

“I’ll be back by morning.” She warns Tony, gently smacking his shoulder.

“How you feeling, kid?” Tony asks, eyeing Peter worriedly.

“Pretty okay. Dr. Banner says this is the easiest stage, so I’m counting my blessings. I would love if someone could bring me my homework though. If I get too behind in school, Ned will kill me.” Peter tells him, plopping down on the bed.

“Don’t worry, I already called the school and told them you have swine flu and can barely stand. They’ve exempted you from all assignments until you bounce back.” Tony seems proud of himself and Peter sighs in relief. At least he had cover for all the classes he’d be missing.

The rest of the day passed by slowly. Tony worked on some repairs in the lab while Peter helped as much as he could from his room.

For the most part he just felt like he had a cold. The headache came and wet, but the cold sweats stuck with him the whole day long.

Day 3

Today was harder. Before Peter was even fully awake he was hacking violently. He felt like he was drowning. Something was stuck in his throat and he couldn’t get it out. Peter found himself on his hands and knees on the floor coughing harshly, and he covered his mouth with his hand.

“Peter?” Tony called, rushing towards the glass. Peter ignored him, focusing on the fact that he could feel his lungs being squeezed like a fist.

He pulled his hand away, finding a dark red liquid coating his fingers. He panicked, sitting up and showing his hand to Tony. The older man’s eyes widen, and he rushes out of the room, probably to find Bruce.

Bruce hurries in, watching Peter continue to cough frantically.

“Stage 3. He’ll be like this the rest of the day.” Bruce tells Tony, a frown on his face.

“How can we help?” Tony asks, cringing at the wheeze in Peter’s breaths.

“Get me a humidifier, and a lot of water. We need to keep him hydrated.” Bruce orders, already pulling on gloves. Tony does as he’s told, returning with a blue humidifier and a 5 gallon jug of water.

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Peter nods tiredly, walking over to the door.

Bruce opens it quickly, setting the humidifier and the water inside, before shutting it again.

Peter sets up the humidifier, sitting in front of it to breathe in the steam.

Steve joins them around 2:30.

“How is he?” The Captain asks, moving to stand near where Tony and Bruce are working.

“The poor kid can barely breathe. He’s been coughing up blood all day.” Tony tells him, not looking up.

Tony had Bruce had been working themselves to the bone trying to synthesize a cure from the blood of the alien. They were making progress, but they weren’t close enough yet and Tony was getting anxious.

“Go get some rest Tony. I can work on this. It’s Steve’s turn to keep the kid company.” Bruce says, practically shoving Tony out the door.

Steve sits down in front of the glass chamber. By now Bruce had given Peter an oxygen mask, but it wasn’t helping much.

“Hey, Peter. Can I get you anything? Some food maybe? Been a while since you ate.” Peter smiles for the first time all day.

“I’d love some goldfish. I keep a box of them in my nightstand.” Steve smiles too, hurrying off to Peter’s room.

He returns moments later with the box, and Peter grins.

“Thanks!” He shouts, taking the box from Steve through the little window.

He pulls off his oxygen mask so he can eat, and Steve is surprised the kid is so upbeat considering the situation. But he’s happy nonetheless.

“Hey Peter. Did I ever tell you about the time that Bucky and I took down an entire nazi regime back in World War II?” Steve asks, and Peter turns to face Steve, giving the ancient soldier his full attention.

“No, but I’d love to hear about it. I learned a bit about you in history class, but I’m really interested to hear your version.” Steve smiles at Peter’s enthusiasm.

He’s glad he was able to find something to distract Peter for a few hours. The kid listens intently, and though he won’t admit it, Steve is glad to have someone to tell this story to again.

Night comes quickly, and Peter goes back to bed with his oxygen mask back on, while Steve watches over him.

Day 4

Steve is woken up by a loud thud. He jolts up, immediately checking on Peter.

The kid is laying on the floor with his palms pressed to his eyes.

“Peter? Are you okay?” Steve asks, wishing he could actually go in and help.

“Yeah. I just got really dizzy. No worries.” Peter tells him, slowly climbing back into bed.

“I’ll get Bruce.”

Steve returns with Dr. Banner in less than a minute, and Bruce sighs.

“Stage 4. Severe dizziness and exhaustion. This is another easy one. Just try not to stand up too much Peter.” Peter nods, and Bruce is sure he wasn’t planning on getting up anytime soon.

“Steve, go grab Natasha. It’s her turn.” Steve listens, hurrying back up the stairs.

Natasha arrives soon after, and she makes her way over to Peter.

“Good morning, маленький паук.” She says, sitting down in the chair by the glass wall.

“Hey Natasha.” Peter moans, and as he stares at the ceiling he can see it spinning in circles. Not to mention he feels like someone had drained him of all the energy in his body.

Per Peter’s request, Natasha takes him through lesson 13 in his physics textbook, and Peter manages to keep up. But pretty quickly he falls asleep, and Natasha decides it’s best to let him rest.

Bruce continues to work in the background, groaning in frustration sometimes, but mostly being very quiet. Natasha stands up and moves to join him at his desk.

“Making any progress?” She asks, staring at the notes he’s scrawling out on the desk.

“A little bit, yeah. Not fast enough though.” Bruce says, crumpling up a ball of paper and tossing it over his shoulder.

“You’ll figure this out. Try not to stress.” She reminds him, sitting back down.

The rest of the day goes by quickly for Peter. He naps for almost four hours, and when he wakes up he feels so exhausted he can barely sit up. He manages to walk over to his water jug, before sitting on the floor, unable to stay standing.

By the time the sun goes down Peter has already fallen back asleep.

Day 5

Peter wakes up, but at first he’s not sure he’s even awake because is vision is completely blurry, to the point where he can barely see.

He panics at first, sitting up quickly in bed.

“Peter?” Natasha asks, and Peter can hear the concern in her voice.

“Get Bruce. I can’t see.” Peter whines, and Natasha sprints out of the room.

Bruce comes rushing in, coming right up to the little window.

“Come over to the window, Peter. I have to look at your eyes.” Bruce says, opening the hatch.

Peter stumbles over to the window, holding his face up to the hole. He can see well enough to know that Bruce is shining a penlight in his eyes.

“Okay. You’re fine. It’s only stage five. Your vision should be restored by morning.” Bruce assures him, and Natasha returns with Tony.

“Peter, are you okay?” The kid has already blindly made his way back over to his bed, and he sits down so that he’s leaning against the glass wall.

“I’m fine. Just can barely see.” Peter tells him, rubbing his eyes.

“Peter, don’t do that. You’ll agitate your eyes.” Bruce warns him.

Peter sighs, letting his hands fall into his lap.

#iron man #irondad #tony stark #avengers #steve rogers #captain america #natasha rominoff #black widow #peter parker #spiderman #spiderson #ironfam #avengersfam #cute #whumptober #day 7

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vampyr-boyfriend · 6 years ago

Text

RED ICE - Ch 6

Characters: Connor x Reader, Gavin, Hank, Fowler

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Sex

Words: 3,322

RED ICE Masterlist

Once he was gone, Viselli buried his head in his hands and swore softly to himself. You were alive and well, and now you likely knew that Viselli was after you and your partner personally. Not only that, but your partner was in the hospital instead of in Viselli’s hands, which meant that Viselli had no leverage to use against you. This was all going horribly wrong. As long as his contact within the DPD remained loyal, however, Viselli was confident that he wouldn’t be caught and you’d be taken out of the picture. Yes… everything would work out just fine.

Chapter Six - Bittersweet Memories

Thursday January 20, 2039 // 6:00am

After waking up a mess of tangled limbs and mussed hair, you and Connor crawled from bed and he made you a healthy breakfast while you showered. After that, he insisted he drive you to work.

“I’m fully capable of driving myself, Connor,” you insisted, but he just smiled.

“I like driving,” he said simply. You shook your head with a chuckle and agreed.

Now, in the parking lot of the DPD, he helped you from your seat, opening your door and taking your hand like a gentleman. Your shoes crunched in the snow as you made your way to the front doors. You passed the receptionist, the terminal on the security gate scanned your badges, and you made for the elevator.

The doors opened to the Homicide division with a soft ding. You exited the lift side by side and barely made your way around the corner and toward Connor’s desk when Fowler’s head poked out of his office.

“(L/N)!” he called and your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You offered Connor the worst reassuring smile he had ever seen as he took his seat and you started toward Fowler’s office. The captain’s glass door closed behind you as he sat on his desk, regarding you in silence.

Connor listened in as you summarized the previous night’s events. He picked up a tablet and got to work going through case files - Hank would be in to work soon.

After a few minutes of browsing, his LED spun yellow just as he heard you say, “Wait, what?” He set the tablet down and looked into Fowler’s glass office to see you, eyes wide, mouth agape, standing before him with slumped shoulders.

“What the hell do you mean ‘mandatory paid leave’?” you growled, fingers curling into fists.

The Captain put a hand up. “All right, all right, calm down. You’re getting upset over nothing. Just think of this as a paid vacation. Your lid is on too tight and you’re on the verge of erupting, (Y/N). Take some time for yourself. Cool off. You can come back to work in a few weeks.”

“You’re kidding me,” you said flatly, voice cutting through the air like the sharp edge of an icy blade. “You are actually kidding me. This is some sort of stupid joke.” Connor could see your jaw clenching. “You better tell me this is some sort of stupid joke,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

Fowler shook his head. “It’s not. You’re too close to the Viselli case and taking it away from you has made you… I don’t know. Nothing good.”

You took a step forward. “Then give me the fucking case back!” you shouted.

Connor was taken aback. He’d never seen you outwardly angry or aggressive until last night, when you’d rushed him and he thought you were going to smack him. Maybe Fowler was right. You were like mentos just about to be dropped into a diet Coke bottle - so close to exploding. The events of the last few days had left you frayed and you were on the verge of breaking.

“You know I won’t do that,” Fowler answered.

“Why the hell not?” you asked. “That case is soaked in my blood and sweat! Why did you even take it away from me in the first place? Because Connor crashed the party and you hate him so much that you’d hurt me just to hurt him?”

Fowler shook his head. “You’re not thinking straight, (Y/N). This is what I’m talking about. This is why you need to take a break.”

“I’ll take a fucking break when Viselli is either dead or behind bars and my brother is free!” You froze, face paling. Connor didn’t know much about your brother, though he did know that you have one. He also knew that you didn’t like to talk about him. It was a sore subject.

Fowler ran a hand down his face. “Mandatory paid leave,” he said simply, staring you down. “And I’m assigning you a police escort. You’ll have four officers with you or around you at all times.” He rose to his feet and swept around his desk to sit in his chair.

“Absolutely not,” was your answer.

Connor didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation, as Hank walked in, urgency in his step.

“What is it?” Connor asked as the Lieutenant stopped before his desk.

The door to Fowler’s office slammed, drawing both Connor and Hank’s attention. You skipped the steps entirely, instead hopping over the railing and landing lightly on the floor. You were fuming as you stormed over to Connor and his partner.

“Reed’s awake,” Hank said, eyeing you cautiously.

Connor was also observing you. Grinding teeth, furrowed brow, fingers curled into fists on crossed arms. Where was the cool, collected (Y/N) that he knew and loved? Was there a crack in your facade and he was finally seeing the real you? He hoped not. He hoped that it was just the stress of the job getting to you and that this mandatory leave would help you cool down.

“You all right, kid?” Hank asked quietly, leaning ever so slightly away from you.

You were breathing heavy, unable to compose yourself long enough to speak.

“She, um…” Connor cleared his throat as he looked from you to Hank. “She’s on a mandatory paid leave,” the android explained and Hank sneered.

“Fowler, that bastard,” he swore. “I’d talk to him, but it’s not like he’ll listen to a damn thing I have to say.”

The Captain’s door opened once more then and he stuck his head out. “(L/N). Your orders from before still apply. Stay away from the android.”

You spun around so quickly that Connor nearly got whiplash. “Stick your orders up your fucking ass, dickhead,” you answered and then quickly spun around again. You grabbed Connor’s hand and pulled him behind you as you made for the elevators, Fowler screaming at you to, “Come back right this instant!”.

The android was afraid the elevator would fill up with metaphorical steam with how much was coming out of your ears as you stood, livid, beside him.

A hug had worked at Hank’s house last night, perhaps it could help you here as well.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. You didn’t move, but he could feel you shaking, every muscle in your body tense. He gently rubbed your arm and you swallowed hard. It was only then that an unwelcome tear escaped to run down your cheek. You screwed your eyes shut, causing another to fall.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered and Connor turned you toward him to pull you into a full-on bear hug. You held him tightly around the waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The warmth of your breath on his skin was absent as you held it in, trying hard not to cry.

“We should get you a punching bag,” he suggested quietly as the elevator doors opened once more, this time to the DPD’s entrance floor.

You pulled away and wiped at your eyes, chuckling despite yourself.

“I’m serious,” Connor said, tone light and airy in an attempt to cheer you up. “If we’re not careful, you’re going to start taking your anger out on me, and there are only so many RK800’s that we can take parts from at CyberLife.

You laughed with a smile that reached your eyes as you followed Connor out into the snow. “I might take my anger out on you, but it won’t be in the form of aggression,” you stated simply, stepping ahead of him to open your driver-side door.

The android’s LED spun yellow as he stopped to process your words, trying to find their hidden meaning. “Oh,” he said, brows furrowed. And then it clicked. “Oh.” His face flushed blue as he stood there in the snow, a tight feeling in his stomach.

“Well?” you asked, poking your head out of your window. You’d already started the engine and were waiting on Connor.

“Coming,” was all he said as he rushed to get in beside you, nearly slipping on the ice.

Wednesday, January 20, 2039 // 6:36am

The door swung open to reveal a square hospital room - Gavin’s bed on the wall opposite, flanked by two curtained windows with plush chairs on the walls either side of the bed. Two of the four chairs were currently occupied by officers of the law; there were two more officers standing guard outside his room. The detective himself was propped up into a sitting position, using his fork to play in a plate of scrambled eggs setting on a wheely tray before him. There were no flowers on the stand to his right, no cards, no balloons, no stuffed bears. And, although the pastel yellow curtains made an attempt to liven up the overall dullness of the room, the rhythmic beeping of Gavin’s heart monitor and puff of oxygen every time he inhaled through his nose were a stark reminder of where he rested.

You went ahead of Connor, as per your instruction, but he entered into the room close behind, closing the door softly in his wake.

Gavin caught sight of him and scoffed, dropping his fork on the plate with a deafening clang. “Well there goes my fucking appetite,” he growled. “Your plastic toy’s face isn’t one of the first things I wanted to see when I woke up, Sweetheart,” he addressed you.

Connor stood at the end of the bed. A quick scan showed his heart beating normally, breathing even and steady, brain functioning properly. His oxygen levels were a touch low, hence the cord leading from his nose to an oxygen tank, but other than that, the detective was fine.

“I’m glad you’re doing well, Detective,” Connor offered. Gavin sneered at him.

You pulled one of the empty chairs - thankfully they had wheels - over next to Reed’s bed and sat in it. “You should be thanking Connor,” you informed him sternly. “Had he not found you and called an ambulance, you’d likely be dead.”

Reed’s eyes darted from you to Connor and then back. He said nothing, but picked up his fork once more to resume playing with his food, pushing his eggs around the plate.

After a moment of silence, Gavin mumbled, “The plastic was just doing his job.”

You tilted your head to the side. “He stayed with you to make sure you kept breathing until you were safely in the ambulance and they took you away,” you continued. “He went above and beyond to make sure you lived, Reed. He saved your life. Show some gratitude.” Your voice was soft and understanding, with just a hint of warning behind it.

Reed nodded, seemingly enthralled by the food before him, as he wouldn’t look up to make eye contact with you.

“Can I, uh-” He cleared his throat. “Can I talk to (Y/N) alone, please?” he asked.

No one moved for a moment until Connor bowed his head and took a step back, then headed out the door, followed reluctantly by the two other officers on “keep Reed alive” duty.

“What is it?” you asked quietly as Gavin set his fork down once more.

He shook his head, brows furrowed. “That android clings to you like a lost puppy,” he said quietly, disdain evident in his voice. “If I was you, I’d’a told him to fuck off already.”

You hummed. “But I’m not you, am I?”

He chuckled dryly. “No, you’re not me. You’re better than me. He’s better than me. That’s why you and I didn’t work out.”

Your brow furrowed as you regarded your partner. “Wait, are- What do you mean he’s better than you? Do you mean Connor? And what does that have to do with you and I? You and I were over before Connor showed up. There wasn’t even a ‘you and I’,”.

“No?” Reed asked, brows raised. “So those times we slept together were nothing, then?” He voice began to rise. “Those nights that I pounded into you and you moaned my name as you came were nothing?” He was practically yelling now. “The nail marks down my back the next day, the way your legs ached so bad you couldn’t walk, that was all nothing? Did I ever mean anything to you (Y/N)?” The beeping of his heart monitor increased with his anger.

“You were my best friend,” you stated simply, flatly. “It was made very clear that what we had was just a ‘friends with benefits’ situation. You knew that going in.”

Reed’s jaw clenched and he turned his head away from you. You took the tray and wheeled it over to the side, out of the way so that it wouldn’t be thrown should your partner become aggressive.

“Friends with Benefits,” he whispered, unwelcome tears pooling and threatening to spill over.

“What does any of that have to do with what’s going on right now?” you asked.

He scoffed, turning back toward you. “It has everything to do with everything. That fucking android… You and I were tight until that piece of plastic came along. You and I had something, whether you want to admit it or not, and then suddenly Connor shows up and he’s your new pal. Left me in the dust.”

You dropped your gaze to the patterned fabric of his bedding as you nodded, but you remained silent.

“What’s it got that I don’t?” Reed asked, voice trembling. “Why’d you chose it over me?” The last question wavered and you looked up just in time to see a tear escape and roll down his cheek. It didn’t get far before he reached up to brush it angrily away.

You swallowed hard. You knew Reed was in pain; he wasn’t always an asshole. You just didn’t realize that you were the reason. You should have known. The best detective in Detroit should have been observant enough to see that Reed changed when Connor showed up. He went from happy, jovial Gavin to cold, angry, aggressive Detective Reed.

“I didn’t realize…” you whispered, trying to piece everything together. “I just wanted Connor to feel welcome… like how you and Miller and Collins made me feel welcome.” You continued after shaking your head, brows furrowed. “I knew that Hank wouldn’t be happy to be partnered with an android and would likely give Connor a hard time, so I made it my mission to be his friend, even when no one else would.”

You looked up at Gavin and your heart split upon seeing all of the different emotions twisting his features. Anger, regret, sorrow, grief, frustration…

He sighed deeply and you were pleased to hear that his heart rate had returned to more normal levels, as indicated by the beeping of the monitor.

“It’s just a machine, (Y/N),” he said, voice low, but pleading.

You shook your head, more feverishly this time. “No. Why do you refuse to accept that he’s alive?” you asked. “After everything that’s happened, why can’t you see that he’s a living being with a heart that loves and a brain capable of original thought? We may not be made of the same materials, but we’re all the same, Gavin. We’re all people… people, just trying to make it in this stupid, fucked up world.”

Gavin’s gaze was downcast, studying his hands in his lap. “So why do you love him and hate me, then?” he whispered, so quiet that you almost missed it.

You felt tears pricking behind your eyes and had to take in a deep, steadying breath to compose yourself before you could speak. “I do love Connor,” you began. “But I don’t hate you.”

“Everything went downhill when that plastic prick showed up.” Gavin’s fingers curled into fists, but his heart rate stayed steady.

“See,” you said, leaning slightly forward. “That’s the problem. You’re an asshole, Gavin. I know you know it, and I’m sure you do it on purpose. You hate Connor for no reason. You decided the second he stepped into the DPD that he was your new punching bag… and I couldn’t stand for that. He didn’t deserve it; he still doesn’t.” A cool breeze ruffled the curtains as it whispered through the room. “Connor doesn’t deserve your hatred, and despite everything you’ve thrown at him, he still saved your life last night,” you whispered. “Think about that.” You rose from the chair and returned it to its place against the wall, then moved to exit the room.

Gavin’s soft voice stopped you. “(Y/N)?”

You turned back around, fingers ghosting over the door handle.

“You know I care about you, right? Even if you don’t…” he paused and cleared his throat and you could see how hard he was fighting against the tears that threatened to fall. “Even if you don’t feel the same,” he managed to finish. “I care about you and your safety… and I want you to be happy.” His voice cracked on the last word.

You offered a soft smile that failed to reach your sad eyes. “Thank you. And I do care about you, Gavin. You’re my partner, and I still consider you a very good friend, despite your attitude lately.”

He nodded and tried to find a reassuring smile to give you, but was unable. You pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall. The two policemen returned to their places at Gavin’s side and you stopped in front of Connor.

His LED shone light blue as he regarded you, a deep crease between his brow. “I, um…” he cleared his throat. Should he even be saying what was on his mind? Your searching eyes found his, ever understanding, giving him the courage he needed to ask what needed to be asked. “I didn’t know that you and Detective Reed had… sexual relations,” he said, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard.

You simply nodded, gaze falling from his to look anywhere but at him.

“If my arrival at the DPD caused a fallout between the two of you, I want you to know that I am very sorry. It was not my intention to cause discord within the department.”

You shook your head. “What Gavin and I had was just a fling. We both needed someone, but I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I didn’t realize that Gavin wanted more than just sex. It’s my fault for being so damn blind.”

“While listening, I couldn’t help but realize…” he took your hand in his and you looked up at him. “You said you loved me, on the rooftop the day that we kissed. I never said it back.” He took your other hand.

“You don’t have to say it,” you tried to reassure him.

“I need to,” he said. “You need to hear me say it so that you know for sure. And I need to say it for the same reason.”

His cool breath ghosted over your face, lips brushing lightly over yours before he pressed them together and kissed you softly. It was only when you broke away to breathe that he whispered in the air between you, “I love you, (Y/N).”.

“That’s so adorable, I think I’m gonna puke.” You broke away from one another and Connor spun around to see Hank standing behind him. The older man looked tired and worn. “Bad news, partner,” he said, addressing Connor.

The android tilted his head to the side.

“The girl that attacked Reed… She’s here in this hospital.”

Connor nodded. “I know. I’m going to interrogate her once she awakens.”

Hank shook his head with a sigh. “‘Fraid that’s not gonna happen.”

“Why not?” the android asked, LED spinning yellow.

Hank hesitated. “Because she’s dead.”

@ghistwrite @rk800downloading @deviantconnorarmy @glitch-girl318 @chichiguitarist123 @into-the-stratosphere @fandomblitch @chocolattaee @projectcherry12 @urban-eagle @padme4000 @datweirdname @josmottt @ipostcoolthingssometimes @ecnelovelamm @assonanceambiance @derpydanandphil @thecrazybluefangirl @pickelope @pokengirl2 @berjhawn @0-why-do-i-exist-0 @fandoms4everyone @cool-haleychapman @trashytwenties @piemeadows @haikyuu-imagines-and-others @layinglonely @peter-maximoff-trash @i-resent-this-hellsite @poodlegods @astridstark13 @havanbcby @hello-i-make-bad-decisions @qtmeryr

#detroit become human #dbh #detroit become human fanfiction #dbh fanfiction #dbh connor x female reader #detroit become human connor x female reader

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midtownsparker · 6 years ago

Text

fortune’s fool; p.p.- 2

peter parker x reader

A/N: moving to my main from @midtownsparker-archive

requested: nope

Words: 2000+

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, mentions of death

summary: Two Empire State University students fated to meet

let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!

requests are open!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | masterlist

2. Understanding-

21 year old Peter, 19 year old reader

She woke with her head buried in stark white sheets, a rhythmic thrumming pounding against the base of her skull as she tried to gather her thoughts. She was definitely not in her own room, but the scent that surrounded her cocooned body was a familiar one, and the easy, measured breaths that she could hear from beyond her wall of pillows was a symphony she’d learned by heart.

With a groan, she turned on her side and pushed away the pile of blankets that separated herself from her best friend’s body. His bare chest rose and fell, faint puffs of air escaping his slightly-opened mouth every so often. Soft curls fell across his peaceful face that lay smooth and unwrinkled as he slept.

This wasn’t the first time that she’d woken up in the same bed as Peter Parker. It was, however, the first time she’d found herself naked and twisted in his sheets. She couldn’t say that she was surprised. They’d been the closest of friends for over a year now, and they both knew that some sort of consummation of their friendship was inevitable.

It didn’t worry her. She knew that what had happened wasn’t serious, and therefore, that nothing about their relationship would change. She knew that Peter knew that, too.

That’s why it happened, she supposed. Because they both knew it wouldn’t ruin anything. It was bound to happen some day, anyway. Instead of worrying, she was content to lay in the peaceful silence until Peter woke up and they’d have to talk.

She breathed in the cool morning air that blew through the slightly opened window and caused the sheer white curtains to flutter. The rest of Manhattan was surely awake by now, evidenced by the honking of horns and shouting from street corners. This was what she loved most about Peter’s apartment. The building was squished between another apartment complex and a multi-level shopping center, which was all smack in the middle of the bustling city, one that she’d come to love, perhaps even more than her own home of Long Island.

His own space, however, was a simplistic haven that was just so him that she found herself spending more time at his place than her own home.

“Just move in already,” is what he’d said once on a warm morning after she’d slept over for the fourth night in a row.

“No, you’d get sick of me!” she’d laughed. He disagreed, but they never spoke about it again. Still, she continued to spend days on end flitting between his kitchen and his sofa and his bedroom, working on her own things, simply coexisting with Peter and not depending too much on his presence to get her own stuff done.

Most often, she could be found sitting on his bed with her textbooks and notes spread around her, all marked in her own code of colored highlighters as she studied or worked on homework while Peter sat at his desk, focused intently on his own work and typing away madly on his laptop, stopping only to remind her to stretch or drink some water or grab a snack. That was just Peter, though; the caring guy she’d met over a year ago who had saved her from days of hauling boxes and who still cared more than anybody else and always thought of her needs before his own.

She loved him, she guessed, but in the purest of ways. She couldn’t stand to lose him, and he felt the same way, because they both knew that the ease of their relationship was not a common thing. They never actively sought anything more from one another, believing that if something was meant to happen, it would happen. For now, they both coveted the freedom they had to see other people, and the knowledge that they still had the other to come back to and laugh about awkward dates and terrible hookups with.

“It’s easier this way,” she’d said. “I don’t want to start anything if I can’t commit my whole being to you.” “I agree,” was his reply. ‘We both love this whole ‘young college student’ phase too much for us to really be able to give everything to one another like we deserve. Besides, as long as I’ve got you as my best friend, I couldn’t really ask for more.”

Then they’d smiled, Peter with that bright, dazzling thing that you could see from miles away, and her with something soft and shared with him, like a secret she seemed to reserve only for Peter, and then they turned back to their work which had been abandoned only minutes ago.

Sighing softly, she let her eyes trace over Peter’s still-sleeping figure. She wished, sometimes, that they’d met ten years later, when she knew who she was and what she wanted, and she’d be able to love him fully like he deserved. She still wasn’t expecting more from him, but she think it might have been better, knowing their intentions from the beginning.

She didn’t know, though, if he’d be her same Peter. His “after school hobby”, as he’d called it, wasn’t easy on him. She’d seen how much it changed him, even within the short year that they’d known each other. He was more quiet, more self aware. He’d seen horrors and faced death, and there was no one who really understood it, that he was still a kid that had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She did her best to listen when he needed her to, when days were dark and he just needed to get things off his chest. He’d told her about Liz and the Vulture and the homecoming night that happened so long ago that changed him forever. He told her about the innocent people that he could’ve, would’ve, should’ve saved, but let their lives slip through his fingers, and how each one weighed heavily on him, every one of them a cold, unbeating heart that couldn’t speak the words of condemnation that he knew they should. He told her about his visits to the graveyards around his city where he stood before their graves and cried tears that he didn’t deserve to cry and apologized profusely, knowing that his words would do nothing to bring them back.

And she would listen. She would let him cry onto her shoulder while she ran soothing fingers through tangled, sweat soaked curls, easing that beautiful mind in its state of turmoil. And then he would push his face deep into her chest while she cradled his head and pressed soft kisses to his hairline while his body racked with sobs.

Who would he be without her? He couldn’t be like this with Ned, couldn’t confide in him like he did with her. MJ would tell him to take his feelings out on the punching bag that hung in the back room of his apartment. He couldn’t even begin to talk to May about it in fear of worrying her half to death. She knew that. She knew everything. And so she became his rock, his unmovable force that he knew would always, always be there for him.

If she wasn’t though? Who would he confide in? Who would ease his pain and help him carry his burden? If it had been ten years later, who knew that he’d even be alive? That there was even a possibility of them meeting at all?

He’d certainly be different. Not the same shining light that she’d come to know so well. Knowing him, he’d let him get lost in his selflessness, his need to be a hero, and push himself further and further into this other version of himself. She didn’t ever want to meet this version of Peter, and so she fought to keep him Peter and not just Spider-Man.

So far, she thinks she’s doing alright. He’s still paranoid at times, always checking over his shoulder, wrapping a protective arm around her waist when they’re out late, but he’s also trying, she knows. He visits Aunt May every weekend, takes a trip to Uncle Ben’s grave once a month, hangs out with his friends regularly. She thinks he’s doing great, all things considered.

Peter began to stir on his side of the bed, a soft groan emitting from beneath the protection of the covers. He rolled over to face her, opening one eye slowly and allowing himself to adjust to the bright light that was now streaming through the window.

“Whatimezit?” he mumbled, pushing his head up to eye her unclothed body. “Wha’d we do last night?”

“We had sex,” she spoke bluntly, giving him a small shrug. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

“Rather not, actually,” he groaned, pushing his head back into his pillow. “How much did I drink?”

“Well, you took three tequila shots straight out of the gate then shotgunned a beer and I kind of lost count after your fifth mixed drink, so I’d say you were sufficiently smashed by the end of the night. Not that I was any better, mind you,” she recalled, stomach churning at the thought of that last beer.

“I feel like absolute shit,” Peter grumbled, face muffled by the fabric of the pillowcase.

“You look it,” she joked, scooting over so they were shoulder to shoulder, pressed together like sardines.

“Hey, not nice,” he pouted, turning his neck so their faces were mere inches away from each other. He smiled at her, breathing in as he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Of course,” she responded. “We’ve talked about this before. As long as none of our feelings have changed, I think that we can both move past this.”

“Good. Now who’s making breakfast? Because I really don’t wanna get up right now, but if I don’t have something drenched in grease and hopefully some sort of cheese, my stomach will start eating itself,” Peter remarked, kicking her leg lightly under the sheets.

“Not me! I made you dinner before we left last night,” she answered, returning his kick.

“Let’s just order something in and that way we can stay in bed until it arrives,” he suggested.

“Fine, but you’re paying,” she insisted, and he agreed, allowing the peaceful silence to fall upon them again.

“I’m glad you’re my best friend,” he remarked after the silence settled, pulling her body closer to his with one hand.

“Don’t let Ned hear you say that,” she cautioned teasingly. She knew that Peter’s relationship with Ned was different than the one they had, but was still just as strong, and probably even stronger considering their history. She didn’t mind sharing his attention. She loved Ned just as much as Peter, and she was glad that he still had a close friend from home that always had his back no matter what.

“Ned knows it’s true. He doesn’t mind, I think. Ever since he and MJ picked up those jobs at the Rec Center, they’ve been closer than ever. Now they both gang up on me rather than just MJ,” Peter whined.

“To be fair, though, you deserve it more often than not,” she joked, nudging his shoulder.

“That’s probably true,” he sighed. “Anyway, I meant it. You’re the best person I know. Thank you,” he stated, reaching down to squeeze her hand.

“Thank you,” she responded. “You’ve done so much for me Peter. I’m so lucky to have you.” She smiled and squeezed his hand back, her grin only growing when he leaned over to press a kiss against her forehead.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“One of us should really put some clothes on before we freak out this delivery guy,” Peter mused quietly, not moving at all.

“Yes, one of us should definitely put clothes on and get the food right now,” she looked at him pointedly.

“Fine,” he grumbled, sliding out of bed and pulling a pair of flannel pants on while she watched him in amusement, following his movements until he was out the door. Yes, she certainly was lucky to have Peter in her life.

#my writing #peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst

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xnadercrownboiofnorhb · 6 years ago

Text

Of Knights and Dragons: Chapter 3, Reflections

The third installment of my Fire emblem anthology! I suppose you could say there are some spoilers regarding Jakob’s past.

As always, I hope you enjoy reading this!

Much Love

Reflections (Part Three)

The soft click of Flora’s heels resonated through the high arches of the dark, marbled corridor. She was a lovely woman, a little beyond her bloom in years, but still very well in her prime. She walked with dignity with her liege's uniform, lovingly repaired and neatly folded, in her arms. She was well on her way to deliver the carefully mended clothing to Lady Corrin’s temporary quarters, isolated in the eastern tower of the castle. She was nearly halfway to her destination when her attention was stolen by a peculiar sound whispering into the hall from an open doorway. Quietly, the maid approached the source of the sound.

Her curious expression quickly faded to one of concern. There, at the head of a long table covered in an overwhelming array of fine dinnerware, Jakob was slouched. His tired eyes cast down upon the immaculate goblet in his hands. The sound Flora observed was a soft squeaking emitting from the greased handkerchief he was mechanically wiping against the already glistening silver.

Judging by the bags beneath his eyes and the unkempt appearance of his hair, Jakob must have been at this all night… again. Exhaling, Flora gently set aside the clothing in her hands and carefully approached the butler. She softly placed her palm on his shoulder but Jakob didn’t acknowledge her and continued on with his fruitless polishing.

“Jakob.” Flora’s voice was kind and warm, “Why don’t you let me take care of this?”

“No.” Jakob scoffed at her, “You’ll mess it up, these need to be perfect.”

The comment hardly grazed the maid, who both surpassed Jakob in years and prowess as a servant. She understood that what the disheveled butler was really trying to say was; leave me alone. Flora grimaced, she knew Jakob to be an abrasive sort, it was his greatest defense mechanism. He was a sensitive young man, although he would perish before ever admitting it. His caustic personality was his way of keeping everyone at arm's length. Flora knew better than to ask him what was wrong, but clearly something was.

“Jakob, you know as well as I do that any established butler must be well rested to maintain peak performance...” without giving him time to interject with a stubborn rebuttal she continued, “I know all too well that you haven’t slept.”

Jakob sighed. He was spent, both physically and emotionally. These petty distractions were all that kept his jumbled, invasive emotions at bay. It had been several days since he witnessed the owner of his heart luxuriously reclined beneath the bulk of an old, irrelevant knight that had absolutely no place being in her quarters- no. If he allowed his thoughts to linger even a moment too long on what he witnessed, forceful, reactionary disgust and anger would consume him.

“You need your rest, lest your duties suffer as a consequence. You cannot hold yourself to meet proper expectations in any altered state,” Flora’s gentle words soaked into Jakob as he slowly, carefully lowered the goblet to the table before him. “and that includes sleep deprivation.”

“I still have to-” Jakob began but was immediately dismissed by the woman.

“I will see to it that your responsibilities are covered for the morning, Jakob. Please, go get some rest.” She gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze around his slumped shoulder. Hesitantly, Jakob forfeited his position to Flora, handing her the overworked handkerchief.

“So be it.” he spat with attempted nonchalance, “If you feel so inclined tarnish all of my hard work… be my guest.” He moved away slowly, unaware of how stiff and sore his body had become remaining stationary through the long hours of the night.

Flora fought off a small, knowing smile as she watched him steadily make his way away from her. He stopped himself just at the base of the doorway; he stood for a moment and lifted his weary head. He turned his face ever so slightly towards to maid, releasing words that were nearly inaudible to her.

“Thank you, Flora.” and he was gone.

The cold morning light painted the ominous castle in a pastel stillness, perhaps if the young butler hadn’t been so saturated in his self pity, he could have taken the time to admire it. He moved towards the castle gardens, where he bitterly hoped he could find some clarity before retiring to his quarters. Try as he may, no amount of meticulously polished cutlery could ever erase the sight of Corrin and Gunter from his mind. Perhaps some fresh air could offer some relief. Anything.

How dare he-? What were they-? Why would she-? With a deep breath Jakob stopped himself from spiraling back into the tired, repeating flurry of outrage that he had allowed himself to steep in over the last few days. He’d run around a thousand different scenarios in his mind but each and every one brought him back to the same empty, unproductive feelings of jealousy and betrayal. Did he even have any right to feel this way? Well, of course he did! … Didn’t he?

Jakob slowed his pace as he came a tall, open archway leading to one of Castle Krakenburg’s finest studies. The regal room was dark and dimly lit with candles. The tall windows were covered with rich curtains to keep the sunlight from bleaching the ancient texts hiding within. Towering ornate shelves generously filled with colorful tomes and scrolls lined the entire perimeter of the room.

A small lump formed in Jakob’s throat as his eyes fell upon on of the finely embellished writing station in the far corner of the study. He approached the elaborate desk and allowed his fingers to trace over its smooth, shining finish. Beneath the decorative cloth covering its surface, If he looked very carefully, he could find the outline of subtle discoloration from an accident that happened years ago. He vividly remembered the incident, he could never forget…

At that time, It had been only a few months since Jakob had been surrendered over to Castle Krakenburg. A frightened child abandoned by his unfeeling parents to the mercy of a cruel king. The boy had begun his intensive training into the ways of Nohrian servitude and was assigned with one of his first independent tasks. It was simple enough, present and pour out tea for Iago in the study. At least, it sounded simple.

Little Jakob shook in his boots as he approached the study on that rainy afternoon, the delicate china softly chittering upon the tray in his nervous hands. Iago was not a benevolent man to say the least. He was a selfish, pitiless lacky of King Garon; a gaunt, pale husk of a man. The small boy had previously witnessed the sickly mage in his fits of rage many times before. He always heeded Flora’s warning to keep out of Iago’s warpath or else risk the danger of becoming reduced to collateral damage. He repeated little prayers in his mind, hoping to find the magister in a pleasant mood… if that were even possible. He prayed as well that he had prepared the tea just as Iago preferred. Fittingly: bitter and potent.

Jakob cautiously looked around as he entered the study, but the towering ghoul was nowhere to be found. So slowly, the little boy proceeded, looking for a desirable spot to set his tray. Just set the tray down and go. He told himself, trying to calm his nerves. With little droplets of nervous sweat forming at his temples, just as he was about to set his arrangement down…

“Hi Jakob!!”

Jakob shrieked and recoiled, his tray and all of its contents launched into the air only to rain down upon a dozen open faced texts on the desk before him. There, with both of her little hands covering her mouth in shock, was princess Corrin. She had dropped a small pile of books that she seemed to be fetching for her brother, Prince Leo.

“Oh no, no, no!! Jakob, I am so sorry!!” She frantically scrambled to pick up the porcelain shards scattered about the desk and floor, but it was too late to save the tomes and scrolls displayed on the table. The dark, rich tea had already bled into the pages, spreading across the paper in vein-like streams, consuming and blurring the words and drawings in its wake.

Jakob stood there mortified, his small hands grabbing handfuls of hair on the sides of his head. Fear and embarrassment bubbled up and burned in his chest.

“I am so sorry, Princess! How stupid - I am an absolute disgrace!” Hot tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he fruitlessly tried to soak up some of the steaming tea, nearly burning his little hands.

“No, Jakob, this is my fault. I’m sorry! I was just so happy to see you, I-”

A thunderous roar split the still atmosphere of the room as an enraged Iago stormed across the study forcing his palms down upon the desk that housed his ruined academic works. His ghostly, narrow face contorted into vicious snarl. Hands shaking, he grabbed a fistful of wet paper and behind a veil of long, black hair glared at the two children before him.

“Which of you imbeciles is responsible for this mess!?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

Without realizing, Jakob had cowered behind the princess, shivering in terror. He felt very faint, as if he himself would fall to the floor and shatter like the teapot before him.

“I demand to know now!!” Iago screamed, slamming his fist down into table once more, rattling the broken glass scattered about. Jakob flinched, and Corrin touched his hand in solidarity.

Corrin boldly took a step towards Iago to draw a firm line between the deranged royal scholar and the petrified servant. Her eyes cast to the ground and her fingers entangled behind her back. Without hesitation, the young noble took ownership of the disaster.

“It was my fault, Iago. I am truly sorry.”

Iago observed Corrin, an unpredicted display of bravery from a little girl. Jakob stared at the little Princess. She looked so brave, clad in her ruffled dress with her long raven hair lovingly pulled back into a fishtail braid, she might has well have been eight feet tall and adorned in shining armor.

Iago closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he straightened himself up. A questionable smirk spread across his thin, colorless lips as his gradually moved closer to the princess less than half his size. With his hands behind his back, he bent over to meet Corrin face to face. She raised her brave little head and locked eyes with him.

“I will see to it, little girl…” Iago spoke softly, an uneasy air filled the room, “that King Garon locks you away for good.”

Jakob could see Corrin holding her breath, her twitching fingers compromising the facade of her courage. Jakob didn’t blink, watching Iago compose himself and stand up right. He turned to leave, giving the children a false sense of relief before swiftly striking the princess across the face. The gauntlet on Iago’s hand cracked against the soft skin of Corrin’s cheek, sending her toppling to the ground.

“I expect this mess be cleaned up by the time I return,” Iago shot back at Jakob, “Or else much worse will happen to you little boy.”

No faster than Iago stormed off did Jakob collapse before Corrin, reaching out to the injured princess with shaking hands. He wanted to inspect her but he was too scared to touch her. Corrin drew herself up to her knees, wiping the blood from her mouth.

“Princess…” Jakob whimpered, offering up his handkerchief to her. “Why did you… Why did you...?”

“You’re my friend, Jakob.” Corrin spoke so simply, as if it were the plainest fact. “We look out for each other.” She shared a weak smile with him, accepting his handkerchief and pressing it to her torn mouth.

We look out for each other.

Jakob let those words repeat in his head, as he drew his mind back from old memories. His thumb traced over the faded stains from all of those years ago. He wondered if that was the specific day he had fallen in love with Corrin. That day... and each day afterward leading up to this very moment.

He winced at the thought. He had spent the entirety of the last few days, throwing himself an elaborate pity party. Angry at the world that he could be so in love with someone that didn’t love him back. Would he ever know anything beyond the cold, sour taste of unrequited love? His own parents never loved him, why should Corrin be any different?

Jakob suddenly was overcome with shame, how could he think that? This single memory was one of hundreds. Corrin had always treated Jakob with kindness and respect. She was always clearly mindful of his well-being and his happiness. Her affections may not have bloomed into the romance he had ached for, but it was no more than a selfish lie to claim that Corrin didn’t love him at all.

Jakob removed himself from the study and made his way to the royal gardens. The crisp morning air brought a little life to him as he sat upon a bench coiled with ivy. He rubbed his tired eyes before leaning back and watching the dew roll over the foliage around him. But why the old man? Ugh. At face value it didn’t make any sense. The Veteran Knight was a stoic, stern man. He always kept to himself, no evidence of a personality, no trace of a sense of humor. Yet, somehow Corrin clearly saw something in him. What did she see? Jakob sat for a moment, allowing his negative bias to run its course. He knew his jealousy tainted his perception of the Great Knight.

He knew Sir Gunter as a severe, and sometimes even callous instructor. The veteran Knight initially wasn’t around all too often when Jakob and Corrin were very small. No, at that time, Gunter was the Captain of the Guard, the right hand of Garon. He commanded a battalion of Nohr’s fiercest soldiers back then. If Jakob recalled correctly, the sober man also smiled a lot more back then. What had changed?

A heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach as he remembered. No one had dared openly speak of it, but spread throughout the entire castle in hushed whispers was the tale of the destruction of a small, lowly village to the west. Lost in the carnage, the wife and child of the most decorated General in Garon’s army. There was so much speculation over how the attack had actually happened. Some said Barbarians, some said Hoshidan forces, but it was unimportant. The young Jakob was old enough to understand the once honored Captain had been stripped of his position and reassigned to the Northern Tower as an over glorified babysitter. The light had been drained from that once charming, valiant war hero, and was replaced with a static, apathetic hollow. More than once did Jakob catch the frayed knight isolating himself in the dark hours of the night, staring vacantly to the distance with his eyes bereft of life. This pain followed the Knight for years and years, not once did he speak of it.

Jakob shrunk into himself as he remembered more and more. Gunter had trained Jakob in both combat and domestic servitude, and although his methods were harsh and unforgiving, there were small, subtle moments of warmth. Numerous times, Gunter had acted as a buffer for Jakob; casting a single stern gaze at the malevolent Iago, causing the hostile mage to immediately turn tail and flee. He had also snuck Jakob morsels of food on the nights the young boy was denied dinner as punishment. The Knight never admitted it, but Jakob coincidentally found Gunter “patrolling” near the servants quarters each of the nights he would find dinner rolls and fruit neatly wrapped and hidden at his bedside.

Gunter was firmly punitive, pushing Jakob to the very thin perimeter of his physical and mental limits - but not once did he cross that line. The result was exceptional. Now, as a young man, Jakob had already become one of the finest menservants Nohr had ever seen. Although the Knight never came to say it outright, and despite their incessant squabbles and bickering, Jakob knew Gunter was proud of who he had become.

Jakob hunched over on his cold, stone bench. He placed his face in his hands and exhaled slowly. Just as every other avenue his mind traveled over the last few days, he brought himself once more to feelings of disgust; but it was different this time. He was disgusted with himself.

He thought back to the intimate scene he had witnessed, but this time there was no rage, no jealousy. He recalled the glow about the two as they kissed one another. Blissful, smiling. Had he ever seen either one of them so... happy?

Jakob told himself time and time again that Corrin’s happiness was his singular priority, but was it truly? Or were each of his efforts tailored to satisfy his own happiness? Did he pour himself into his acts of selflessness to Corrin out of love? Or was it to earn the attention and affection he so selfishly craved? He lifted his head, brushed off his weariness and stood with resolve. He had an idea.

Gunter’s eyes strained as he stared at the numbers scribbled on the ledger in his hands. He was taking inventory of castle’s armaments, one of his usual evening tasks. Everything appeared to be in order in the armory, unsurprising. Marking off the last of his count with a feathered quill, Gunter set aside the ledger and began to inspect a few of miscellaneous pieces of armor, jotting down little notes as he did. Night had washed over the sky, as the knight quietly worked by the glow of the neat oil lamps and torches that lined the room. His own armor had been neatly polished and set aside for morning, he wore a loose fitting white tunic over a pair a fine pair of leather trousers. Even in his casual attire - the Knight still had a proud and proper aura about him. His silence was broken by a nervous cough. Gunter looked up to find Jakob, clearing his throat to grab his attention. Gunter grimaced, he had a feeling this confrontation was bound to happen; and yet part of him had ignorantly hoped enough time would pass that everything would be forgotten… or at least repressed.

“Good evening.” Jakob stood with his trademark flawless posture, his voice direct.

The Knight didn’t immediately respond, he took his head into his hand with a heavy sigh. His thumb and pointer finger massaging the fine lines on his forehead. He did not need this sort of stress.

“Jakob… I…” Gunter didn’t what to say or how to say it. He had no idea how to navigate this situation. The last he saw of Corrin was the day of the… incident. The two had worked together to tidy up the carnage that was smashed tea assortment Jakob had brought. They hadn’t discussed matters outside of Gunter nervously stammering on about his shame and Corrin, in turn, reassuring him that everything would work out.

“Go to Lady Corrin.” Jakob spat, his eyes cast to the ground.

“... Pardon?” Gunter spoke slowly, unsure he had heard the butler properly.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, old man.” Jakob waved his hand dismissing the Knight’s inquiry, supporting the notion that Gunter did, in fact, hear him correctly.

“I have far too much to complete this evening. And besides, what happened-”

“I have personally seen to the rest of your evening duties.” Jakob rocked on his heel, having taken inspiration from Flora’s prior kindness.

Gunter swallowed, he had absolutely no idea how to respond to this news. Even if he wanted to run to the Princess’ chambers, he simply could not make the same, foolish mistake from before. He had originally gone to Corrin’s chambers to extinguish the smoldering flame that had started between them and that obviously worked out swimmingly for him. In retrospect, the Knight and the Princess were lucky it was the butler that walked in on them, and not the crowned prince. Gunter shuddered at the thought. However, Jakob came prepared for Gunter’s concerns. He was a thorough young man, and he never proceeded with any plan prior to exploring every hypothetical.

“Flora, Felicia, and I will stand by to ensure you two are allowed adequate privacy.” Jakob was clearly becoming increasingly uncomfortable as the interaction lingered.

“We cannot give you the entirety of the night without looking suspicious, but we can at least keep any potential visitors at bay for a few hours.”

Gunter blinked at the young man before him, Jakob face was flushed red. The Knight himself was not particularly comfortable with the inappropriate nature of interaction, but he was touched.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Jakob.”

“Don’t say anything, just go.” Jakob turned away from Gunter, crossing his arms over his chest. Sensing Gunter’s hesitation, Jakob became impatient. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Gunter cleared his throat and removed himself from the room as instructed. Jakob watched the Knight as he faded into the dark hallway leading towards the eastern tower with restrained haste. The butler felt his eyes sting, but he refused to let himself shed any tears.

Days had passed. Discussions and debates from the war summit concluded and tactical decisions were made. Knight Commander Corrin and her troops had been mobilized to the south and were awaiting orders. It was here Jakob watched Corrin train a few of the new recruits. He could see so clearly that melancholy that held her prisoner had not only relinquished its hold, but was replaced with a lovely vibrancy. Strength had returned to her smile, her laughter was genuine and enchanting again, and her gaze, no longer vacant, shined with purpose and hope.

He watched her and felt a welcome warmth consume his heart. She was happy again. With a soft, knowing smile, Jakob retreated towards the mess hall to assist in preparing dinner. He walked alone, but he was content.

We look out for each other.

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