#nothing much to say about it i am tired . should probably answer some au related asks ive been marinating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

legends-live-in-memories · 3 years

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Downtown Detour

ayo its ya boi back with more timari and ignoring my wips cuz im plagued with timari brainrot

written in the same au as:

Rooftop Rendezvous and

Alleyway Altercation (NSFW)

AO3 link to the series

Timari 2.2K words, no warnings other than references to intimate relations

Summary:

“Red Robin makes a breakthrough in his investigation of the new Gotham Rogue and goes to confront her about it.”

without further ado

Tim could not believe this. The new Rogue, Karma—Marinette Dupain-Cheng— had been spotted a total of three times since their last encounter by either his brothers or the cops and none have been able to subdue her for more than fleeting seconds. She was caught breaking into a politician’s house when the man was away on another one of his exotic hunting trips; another artefact was stolen from the museum after that, one they were unable to retrieve; and finally she was last seen escaping from Robin by the mayor’s office, only no one know what was taken from there. All three times she was spotted and nothing to show for it other than bruised egos and missing items.

During his little investigation into her supposed civilian name, he came across a series of interesting police reports from Paris, France of all places. A penchant for grand theft auto since her teenage years as well as a series of vandalism and reports of stolen student records from her high school at the time. There was even a rescinded expulsion, a litany of suspensions and a plethora of unexcused absences. She was a cookie cutter criminal in the making. But for Tim, it didn’t make sense. While all the evidence points to a child delinquent grown into an adult criminal, something about the situation set Tim’s teeth on edge. There was something missing. Something she wanted Tim to find out, if her giving him her name was anything to go by. But what?

She had no local address on file and the last piece of legal information that had any traceable location was a one-way ticket to Shanghai from four years ago. Immediately after her high school graduation. All her social media was deleted around the same time. She had effectively gone off the grid up until her emergence as a part of Gotham less than stellar night life. But why?

A closer look at her time in Paris led him to discover an interesting trend but it wasn’t anything concrete. Starting about when Karma—Marinette— was thirteen, her unexcused absences lined up with some of their infamous akuma attacks. While at first it could be argued that many children had unexcused absences in the beginning, and she had less than perfect attendance even before then, her disappearances also coincided with attacks far from her school which was where she should have been at those times. Then there were reports filed by police who spoke with her parents about her sneaking out at night which also lined up with notable akuma attacks. Either she was an overzealous fan of the city’s temporary heroes, or she was constantly in the thick of the action and kept it a secret from people close to her, letting her reputation suffer for it.

‘Trust me, I know all about acting in the name of the greater good. The good-girl act got tiring after a few years,’ she had said. ‘Much more rewarding to give into your own self-interests,’ she continued. ‘Something you could try emulating.’

Her words echoed in his mind. He never thought much of them before, his mind preoccupied with other things her mouth was doing that night. It could also be chalked up to everyone being the hero of their own story and she had just coloured her own experiences. But just maybe…

Before he could entertain that train of thinking, his phone alarm was alerting him of his scheduled patrol. Hopefully he could catch a hold of his current person of interest and get some more answers. And perhaps get a read on what her intentions are in this city. With him.

~~~~~~~~

The skyline was a welcoming sight as he flung himself from building to building. The wind beneath him carried him across the sky like an actual bird and the thrill of the freefall lit his nerves on fire. His route was quiet but his appearance should coax out a certain thief. Red Hood was investigating a weapons smuggling deal that was set to take place by the Gotham Harbour. Nightwing was back in Bludhaven with Signal, introducing him to nighttime patrol. Robin and Black Bat were tracking a drug deal that was rumoured to disrupt the balance of the Narrows. Spoiler was with Batman doing their regular routes and Batwoman was doing her own thing somewhere. Oracle, as always, was on standby on comms and monitoring everything. This was the perfect opportunity for Karma to strike so Red Robin just had to be patient. The night was young.

An hour into his sweep of the city and Oracle was patching him into a radio call about a break-in in some pawnshop back in the Fashion District. It wasn’t on his route tonight but Oracle figured that with their likely suspect, and his arrangement with her, he was their best shot at apprehending her. If only temporarily.

He arrived at the pawnshop without fanfare and found the storefront window broken into. Further inspection led him face to face with the object of his affection. Karma was posed calmly behind the cashier counter rifling through an assortment of jewelry that was left on display in the glass cases. It was only the faint twitch in her eyebrow that indicated her awareness of his presence. Other than that he went completely ignored. That won’t do. Not tonight. He approached her slowly and stopped on the other side of the counter, leaning into her space. He could faintly smell her rose-scented perfume. Her strawberry shampoo. Even the cherry lip gloss she wears under the mask. He’s tasted it enough times to know how strong it was. For a vision clad in black she was rather fond of red flavours.

“Can I help you, Tweety Bird?” her voice was soft, sprinkled with faux indifference, not wanting to disrupt the background noise of rings and necklaces clanking together. She hasn’t looked at him once.

“Breaking and entering and attempted theft are serious crimes, Karma.” He saw a faint twitch of amusement in her eyebrow but her posture was relaxed and non-assuming.

“That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I’m here either.” Her eyes sweep up to him as she stops searching the jewelry. She’s staring intently at him as if he’s to understand the meaning behind the words she’s not saying. He does. They’ve played this back and forth before. Danced their little tango of push and pull.

“You wanted to see me then? Thought this was the best way to get my attention, hmm?” He leaned in, pressing his weight more into the counter. She matched his advance and propped her face in the palm of her hand. Her finger tapped on her mask. He figured if the accessory wasn’t there she’d be biting that finger instead.

“Well it worked. Didn’t it? You’re here after plenty of time to conduct a rather thorough investigation into who I am. Or was.” She took off the mask, finally, and he was right. Her lips were shining in the dim light of the night with the familiar hues of her lip gloss. He presses on to not let himself get distracted by the slight smile on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. Paris, born and raised. Above average student in terms of grades but a disciplinary streak about a hundred miles wide.” At this her head tilts in amusement. Her faint nod encourages him to divulge all the aspects of his research. “Absences and tardies more often than any recorded presences. About twelve suspensions in the span of three years and a rescinded expulsion when you were about fourteen. A couple run-ins with the police in regards to charges of theft and property destruction.” Her face scrunched in an adorable pout at that as if it were a reminder of an embarrassing moment and not outlines of criminal offenses.

“Definitely not my finer moments, I assure, but keep going. You’re doing so well,” she interrupted him. She had shifted so that she could jump over the counter and sit atop it, her legs crossed and her arms bearing her weight behind her. Red Robin was temporarily silenced by the arch in her back and the lean lines of her exposed neck. He rose to his full height; just barely reaching her shoulder, due to her new vantage point.

“You disappeared after your high school graduation, my investigation says you ran off to Shanghai but I believe there’s more to it than that.” She had uncrossed her legs to accommodate him between them and drew him closer by his shoulders. Acting on instinct, his arms found purchase on her waist and he was brushing the pad of his gloved thumb across the exposed skin. It was uncharacteristically soft but neither heeded mind to it.

“You think there’s more to me than that?” She leans in, almost breathing the same air as him. “You’d be the first,” she continued while snaking a hand up his neck to scratch lightly at his scalp. The touch sent shivers down his spine and had his toes curling in anticipation.

“So tell me then,” he licked his lips and stared at her through the film of his mask. “What is Paris’s Lady Luck doing here causing mischief in Gotham?” The question was a gamble and could upset the rapport he had with Karma. He was the team’s only lead on her, for better or worse, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

It was probably the right thing to say though, because she hasn’t left him yet but instead was staring at him with something indescribable in her eyes. Excitement? Approval? Affection? Red Robin wasn’t sure what to make of the glimmer of emotion in her eyes other than to take it as a good sign.

“You got this far in your investigation, Tweety Bird,” she leaned in closer, just a hair’s width away. “Why ruin the chase and tell you everything now?” Her lips were brushing against his as she spoke and the cherry flavour was almost distracting. His tongue peaked out to swipe a stronger taste. The arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“Surely you could reward me for figuring out this much, right?” His voice was pitched so low if she wasn’t already breathing in his words he would have worried that she didn’t hear him. “After all, it’s not everyday someone discovers the identity of the allusive Ladybug.”

“The bird wants a reward, does he?” She finally sealed his lips with hers, stealing any half-baked retort he might have had. This kiss was different from the multitude they’ve exchanged in their times together, carrying over the unanswered emotions from their last encounter and introducing new ones into the mix. The air felt still and cool on his face and the fingers in his hair tightened even further.

They were like that for what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes; just calmly exchanging kisses, nothing straying beyond that silently defined line. They didn’t need anymore for tonight. Karma had taken to progress this further by trailing her lips to the sharp cut of his jaw. She alternated between small kisses and even smaller bites as she made her way up to his ear. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear and he leaned into the faint contact. A lick and a bite later, her lips were curled up into a smirk as her hand in his hair held him in place.

They stayed like that for moments lost to time. Neither making the next move, nerves buzzing with anticipation. He felt an itch for more that only she could scratch and she was denying him that satisfaction. Despite that he made no inclination to instigate more, letting the ball stay in her court. After more silent minutes he felt rather than heard her chuckle against his ear. She jumped off the counter, pressing every curve of her body against his. Even then, he unconsciously tried to pull her closer, pressing her against his front and the tempered glass of the counter. Before he could do as he pleased with his new leverage, she wiggled out of his grasp and moved towards the broken storefront window, mask in hand.

“It was great to see you tonight,” she throws a glance over her shoulder, readjusting the mask over the lower half of her face. “And I’m glad my assumptions of you were right.”

“What assumptions? What do you mean?” The confusion was almost palpable beneath the traces of cherries. He moved to reach for her, to keep her here for a bit longer. To explain herself. To not leave him. She evaded his grasp and leapt out the broken window. From outside the building she turned to him and aimed what was clearly Red Robin’s grappling hook out to the nearest building.

Instead of answering him she chuckled and tilted her head in amusement at his growing distress.

“See you around, Tim.” Her parting words were lost to the air as she shot off with the grapple into the night. Red Robin stood frozen, rooted in place at the use of his civilian name. How did she know? Who exactly did he decide to get entangled with? Among the cacophony of new questions one thing was for certain.

He was utterly fucked.

#maribat #timari #timinette #ml x dc #this is tame to others in this little mini series #tumblr dont fucking try me #surprisingly NOT hornknee hours #i know i surprised myself with this one too

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apparitionism · 4 years

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Why 3

Nearer and nearer this story creeps to its conclusion, and thus to that not-so-distant future day when @mysensitiveside will have received a complete present! Previously, in part 1 of this AU, a Myka Bering adopted a dog. That dog, unfortunately or fortunately, in fact already belonged to a Helena Wells. Myka and Helena, initially strangers to each other, have been walking the dog together, growing intermittently closer in the process, and they are at last, following the events of part 2, about to take a step toward something beyond the pedestrian. Let’s see how that goes.

Why 3

Later, in the parking lot, “You’re sure this is okay?” Myka asked as they began exchanging tangible, traceable information: numbers, addresses. They lived closer to each other than Myka had imagined, which made what Sam had done seem even more brazen... even more terrible. “I don’t want to make you feel like you—”

Helena looked up from her phone. “What exactly will convince you?”

“Convince me of what?” A stupid question; she knew it the minute she said the words.

But Helena again took pity on her. She put her phone in her pocket, and she moved close to Myka, then closer. “I’m not confused,” she said. Their coats were touching. “Are you?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

In response to that, Helena just looked. Did she blink? She leaned up still closer, a delicate, careful movement of body, accompanied by a turn of her head not quite against the collar of Myka’s coat.

Not a kiss, but the potential shiver of one... a “lean down and you’ll find out” feeling...

Myka was still high on the first kiss, not quite ready to dilute it with a second. “Tuesday?” she asked, and “Tuesday,” Helena affirmed, remaining near.

“I like this,” Myka said, and it might have been a warning—to herself and to Helena.

“I’m glad,” Helena said, a comfort against the caution.

I will see them three days from now, Myka told herself as Helena drove away, her dog buckled safely into his harness in the back seat. Myka had a similar harness, limp and empty, in the back seat of her own car.

I know what it’s like to see him without a week having passed. I have no idea what it’s like to see her.

How long could three days feel?

Long enough to make her tell herself, on Sunday, “You should cancel.” Because she hadn’t slept. Instead she spent open-eyed hours retreading her limited romantic past: college boyfriend, who lasted all of one semester; grad school girlfriend, who lasted longer, but only because they rarely saw each other, and when they did, they were too exhausted from long, long lab days and nights to do much of anything but share a cheap meal and go to bed. Nevertheless their breakup blindsided Myka, who expected reasons but received nothing more from her suddenly ex-girlfriend than “I was into it; now I’m not.”

Since then, the occasional night with another lonely chemist at a conference had been the extent of it. That was what Myka figured she would always be most comfortable with: no entanglements, no consequences. No nerve-wracking anticipations.

Tuesday was consequential, with accompanying nerve-wracking anticipation. Hence, “You should cancel.”

Entanglements. Leuko had been one, but he at least had been very clear. Food, walks, baths. Obviously Myka’s emotions had been involved, but it wasn’t as if Leuko was going to do anything to blindside her.

Except bark at someone.

In his defense, she conceded, he had a pretty compelling reason.

So what about cancelling? Myka knew why she wanted to. Why didn’t she want to?

I like walking with her in the park.

Everything she says about herself makes me want to know more.

She is physically more attractive than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life.

Kissing her one time made me wish I had keys to a castle, so I could give them to her.

On a parallel track, there was Leuko. Monty. The idea of interacting with him in his real home felt wrong—but the kind of wrong that could one day become right. Like seeing his leash in Helena’s hand.

Would I have been willing to keep walking in the park if she hadn’t been the one walking him?

Impossible to know. Traitorous to consider an answer of no.

And would I have felt that I could walk in a park with her in the absence of him?

Also impossible to know. Not traitorous to consider an answer of no, but surely cowardly.

So in the interest of at least a facsimile of courage, Myka spent some time pondering yet another question: What do you wear to watch a dog show with your ex-dog and his person, who might be your... well, who could say? Certainly not Myka. She landed on “clothes.” Just wear clothes. Because her ex-dog wouldn’t care, and if his person did—well, that would tell her something, wouldn’t it?

Knocking on a door on Tuesday night, clothed in clothes, she was a mixture of trepidation and, yes, hope.

“Come in!” Helena called, so Myka did. To her surprise, she was received into the house by Montgomery Clift. She’d found, over her days of thinking, that it was easier to call him that in her head; its length and formality kept her from slipping and thinking “Leuko.” Mr. Clift then escorted her down a hallway and into a large living space. “Are you a butler now?” she asked him.

He blinked. It meant either “Of course not” or “I am the most perfect butler who ever buttled,” and Myka said, “You’re right,” in answer to both.

Helena appeared a second later, and Myka held out the gifts she’d brought: wine in one hand, a paper bag in the other. They had cost her far less pondering-time than the clothes had, though she hadn’t realized that at the time, and that probably meant something, though Myka could not think it through now, not with Helena standing right there in front of her. Myka could barely think at all. Instead, she tried to explain: “I thought at first I should bring you something related to writing—a pretty pen?—but then I figured a writer wouldn’t be any less picky about equipment than a chemist, and I’d hate it if some well-meaning person gave me for example a pipettor I’d never use. Nobody would do that, because they’re insanely expensive, but that’s why you’re getting a boring bottle of wine. I brought this”—she extended the bag—“for Monty.”

Helena had gazed at her throughout that recitation, and Myka had in turn felt herself prolonging it, to keep those attentive eyes on her. Now Helena said, “You’ve gifted him...” She took the bag, looked in it. “Several corn tortillas?”

“Fresh ones. He likes them.”

“I didn’t know it.”

Which, Myka had to acknowledge, made her happy. But it was a selfish happiness, so she said, “I didn’t intend to know something you don’t. It was an accident: he was hungry, and that was what I had. And then when I bought fresh, they turned out to be his favorite.”

Helena said, to Montgomery Clift, “More favorite than cheese?”

He failed to respond, most likely due to his laser focus on the now-open tortilla bag. Myka offered, “Probably depends on the cheese.”

“It’s true he is discerning.” Helena paused. “So am I.”

Myka’s nerves, which had ebbed, returned—not fully, but as a vague itch of discomfort. “You don’t need to...” she started.

“What don’t I need to?”

“Try? Like that. Like any way at all.” For it was when Helena tried—as she had in the park, with her “so are you” about prettiness—that Myka lost her bearings.

“I don’t know where you are,” Helena said. Such a reasonable justification: of course she would try, if she wanted to move Myka to some particular place, some place she felt Myka was not.

“Here,” Myka said, but it was a yearn—to get closer to where Helena might have imagined she, and they, could be—rather than the truth. She needed to tell the truth, though: “Or at least I’m trying to be.”

“You don’t need to try either,” Helena said, her tone a balm. “Let’s start by getting to know each other better. I hope that’s what this evening is for.”

“I hope too.” Myka had never said anything more true. “I don’t like that I know your dog better than I know you. I regret it.” But, “Sorry,” she said to the soft butler-or-not who looked up at her, blinking wounded eyes. Or more likely, he was blinking tortilla-wanting eyes.

“We need to remedy that. Or rather, I want to remedy that, and I think you do as well. As I said, I’m not confused.”

“As I said, I am.” Important to be clear about that.

“Tell me why.”

Oh, the invitation. How could she respond? Weighing ideas of entanglements, consequences, anticipations...

Helena, blessedly, went on, “Because I feel that if I hadn’t told you I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

That was indeed the entirety of it, so... “I like that you’re smart,” Myka said. “I like it so much.”

“I like that you are as well, chemist. Sit down. I have food to cook. On that topic, I regret I didn’t ask about allergies, so tell me now. I don’t want to inadvertently attempt to murder you.”

“You can’t. I’m basically insensitive.”

“Ridiculous. Monty knows better, and so do I.”

She delivered that perfectly, not trying, but rather as if she had a doctorate in quashing self-deprecation, and it made Myka smile. “If I were allergic to anything, leukotrienes would be involved,” she said.

“Do you want to explain them to me now?” Helena asked.

It was even more perfect, as an invitation, but Myka turned it down: “You’re busy. Food to cook. Can I help?”

“Sit. You look tired. Is that an awful thing to say? I don’t mean that you look in any way bad. You’ve most likely had a long day.” She stopped, her expression devolving into a sheepish wince. “I’m digging a hole.”

“It’s okay,” Myka said to banish that wince, charming as it was. “You’re right about the day.”

She hadn’t improved much on her Saturday sleep in the subsequent nights, but at least last night had been anticipatory rather than self-castigating. During the day, her concentration at work had been... not ideal. She broke some glass—dropped from nervous fingers—and Abigail asked her if she was intending to go on a rampage. She’d had to redo more than one assay. It really was a miracle she’d been able to get here on time.

So she sat, as instructed, and she found herself pondering various miracles: Helena was cooking food, and Myka, on the sofa, had Leuko—no, Montgomery Clift—beside her, as he used to be, and she wished she were a poet, so as to put into words what suffused her heart. “Does he sit like this with you?” she felt compelled to ask.

“He does,” Helena said. Weeks ago, Myka would have felt that as a knife. Now it was confirmation of all-encompassing comfort. “With me,” Helena went on, “and now with you. I’ve never seen him do so with anyone else.”

“Have you, though?” Myka asked him.

Of course he blinked those dark, beautiful, secret eyes. “Did she teach you to do that?” Myka asked him, and she dared a glance at Helena.

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” Helena said. “All I personally taught him was that he should shake hands. And clearly that is not what is occurring.”

“Shake?” Myka suggested to him.

Montgomery Clift sat up immediately and held out his right front paw.

“Impressive,” Myka told him—told Helena—after a convivial shake had occurred. In all her time with him, she hadn’t thought to see whether he would do that. She hadn’t thought about training at all. He was so quiet and sweet. What else would she have wanted him to do? How often would they really have needed to shake hands? “How often?” she asked, softly, and she took his blink to mean “Not very.”

Helena said from the kitchen, “It’s starting in not very long, and I’d like to let Monty out. Will you watch him in the yard?”

“You’re going to watch me watch him, aren’t you?

Helena smiled. “Honestly, yes. But not for the reason you fear.”

“I’m not sure you have a true handle on the extent of my fears.”

“Educate me.”

“What do you write about? Or I guess I mean, what did you write about?” Myka asked. The question had come to her that instant, fully formed—not a fear, not as such, but rather a gray gap in her knowledge.

“Hm,” Helena said. “Let’s talk about that when you come back indoors.”

Montgomery Clift enjoyed his time in the yard. “Sorry we can’t walk,” she told him, but he was cavorting, sniffing, investigating, and didn’t seem to care. It made her sad that she’d had no space for him to do that, untethered.

They came back indoors, so: “So, writing,” Myka said. “I didn’t Google you. So I don’t know.”

“That is both slightly insulting and exceedingly considerate.”

Myka, flustered, said, “Point being I don’t know.”

“It begins with my having been a rather unusual sort of child.”

“That isn’t hard to believe,” Myka said, then cringed. “That’s probably also slightly insulting.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s exceedingly complimentary. Don’t we all want to be unusual? I do now, and did then... I would fix my attention on a thing that struck me as interesting, and I would not rest until I became expert in it. The smaller and stranger the better. An arcane slice of history, some esoteric gadgetry, a figure of obscure influence. As it happened, I could write about such things in a readable way.”

“Showing off what an expert you’d become?” Myka asked. She hoped that wasn’t insulting at all.

Helena smiled in affirmation. “It began like that, yes. One tried to become less insufferable when it was for wider publication. In any case, I sought such topics out for years—the rarities, the curiosities. I made a reasonable amount of money doing so, which is better than many can say.”

“So why stop?”

“I had it in my head to write a novel. Something with that same depth, but also breadth.”

“Do you still have it in your head?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Mainly in my head. Not on paper.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“Monty’s disappearance... derailed me.”

“Are you un-derailed now?”

“Not precisely.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“I’ve found myself distracted.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“You should know why.”

Was that trying again? It felt softer, not quite as discomfiting. “When does this dog show start, anyway?” Myka said.

“Very soon,” Helena said, and the way she spoke those very simple words reminded Myka, viscerally, of why she wanted to be here—Helena’s eyes were bright, her voice low but engaged. An edge of something like hunger crept around the periphery of Myka’s awareness.

The show itself was astounding. Myka had known she had very little knowledge of dogs as animals, certainly prior to her brief ownership experience. But she had not known that she had not known how vast the world of dogs, as rankable, judgeable animals, really was. An entire additional universe was folded into the one Myka thought she knew. The idea of breeds, okay, she got that. But groups? Handlers? Stacking?

“Can he do that?” Myka asked, about the stacking, that stance seemingly required for the judging of... dogness?

“Oh, watch. Monty, sit,” Helena said to the dog who was curled between them. She raised her hand as she said it, and just like that, up he sat. She pulled her hand forward then and said, “Stand.” He stood, his entire self on display, just like the dogs on the television. After a second, Helena said, “I should have cheese in my hand. Or one of your tortillas. He hates when there’s no reward. You see how the handlers hold the treats in their mouths, when they’re in the ring. Often they use liver.”

“In their mouths...” Myka shuddered.

Helena offered a sympathetic echo of the movement. “It’s apparently quite compelling as an incentive, and they can’t hold the brush or the lead that way. But it’s certainly among the many reasons I myself wouldn’t have been able to show him.”

“I don’t understand why being pretty doesn’t count,” Myka said.

“Shapes and sizes matter more than anything, and he’s slightly too small for a male.” Montgomery Clift turned away from her, seemingly intentionally. Helena laughed and told him, “You’re exquisite and you know it.”

“Why did you even want a Mittelspitz anyway?” Myka asked. “No offense, Montgomery Clift.” After trying it out loud, she realized it didn’t work nearly as well that way as it did in her head. “Monty,” she amended, and now he reoriented himself toward Myka, as if he were pleased. She was probably attributing far too much intentionality to him.

Helena said, “I didn’t want one.” Did Montgomery Clift turn even further toward Myka? “As I told you, there was a novel in my head, but I was too busy investigating those curiosities. Then I began to imagine that I might find time for it if I settled into a more routine everyday life.”

“So you got a dog?” Myka asked, recalling her own Leuko-routines.

“Accidentally. While looking into teaching positions, I was finishing up one of my last pieces, on the insular, sectarian cultures around rare breeds of dog. I met Monty’s breeder, and she happened to note that having a dog would certainly create routines... I scoffed, but then I met Monty himself, as a wee puppy, and there was no longer any question.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

Helena showed Myka several photos of that wee puppy.

“Oh my god,” Myka said. It was the only logical response.

“He didn’t seem real,” Helena affirmed.

And yet there the real Montgomery Clift was, clearly the grown-up version of those photos, blinking back and forth at both of them. A curiosity.

“You’re coming back tomorrow night?” Helena asked later, as Myka prepared to leave.

What a confounding question. “I... am I?” Myka staggered out.

“The show. It’s two nights. I thought you knew.”

That had probably been conveyed at some point, but Myka hadn’t paid sufficient attention. She had lost her purchase on the unfamiliar new dog-parade production-number world unfurling itself for her perusal on the television, as she was far more interested in the equally new world composed of one disconcerting woman and one unreal dog. What did it say that the latter outranked the former?

Right... as if that were a mystery. “I think if this evening has demonstrated anything, it’s that I know absolutely nothing,” she lied.

“Not nothing,” Helena said, mindreading. Then she read some more: “Surely you know that I want to kiss you goodnight.”

“I want to know it,” Myka told her.

“Then do.” She moved close to Myka, a sidle not dissimilar to her move in the parking lot, and this time Myka did lean down, did find out. It was not confusing at all, but rather like good clear water, bracing and inundating, roaring, silent, everything. If this was the first night, what would the second entail?

The next day in the lab, Myka allowed to Abigail, “Maybe she’s my girlfriend.” Tempting fate, probably, but fate was certainly doing some tempting of its own...

Abigail crossed her arms. Never a good sign. “Why do you always have to lie first?”

“Why... what?”

“You lie about having a dog,” Abigail said. “You lie about having a girlfriend. What’s next? Your side job for the CIA?”

“Very funny.”

“If you deny it, I’ll know it’s true.”

“Fine. My side job is CIA. What do you know about dog shows?”

“Are you going undercover at one?” Abigail countered.

“My maybe girlfriend knows a lot about them.”

“Then ask her, not me. People like to talk about what they know a lot about. Except you, but you’re weird like that.”

Valid advice, and an accurate description. Myka thanked Abigail for them both.

“And you’d lie anyway,” Abigail continued.

Myka didn’t thank her for that.

As she prepared to leave for Helena’s that evening, she found herself thinking on clarity. That she might at last have some.

Her phone buzzed—a text. She never got texts.

The text was from Helena.

It said: Don’t come.

TBC

P.S. Only a bit left to go, I swear. Poor Myka’s heart can’t take much more, anyway, and my goal in life, or rather in narrative, really isn’t to make her suffer.

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Why #part 3 #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #bering and wells gift exchange #bering and wells exchange #mysensitiveside

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vennilavee · 4 years

Text

to build a home - ch 1

beyond the drapes

attack on titan masterlist

ch 2 - a girl in a bar

Pairing: levi x reader (attack on titan)

Summary: a modern au where you and levi both work for the Survey Corps, a non-profit organization with a mission to help the youth of the Underground District.

Warnings: cursing, suggestive themes

Word Count: 3787

A/N: im so excited to explore levi’s character in this setting!! this story will be a series of moments in no sequential order. in this modern au, the walls still exist, as does the underground district. the only thing modern about it is the technology and culture lolol ENJOY

*** This day is bound to be a long one- it’s only 10 AM and you’ve already been in back to back meetings with several of donors for the foundation. You’ve been in meetings for the last three and a half hours, your toasted bagel now cold and your second cup of coffee now empty. You sigh and roll your shoulders back, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

These rich types would be the death of you. But Erwin had specifically asked you to handle the rich donors. As if Hange or Levi would be able to sit through even one of these ass-kissing phone calls. You can hear sugary sweetness dripping off of your tongue with practiced patience and you hardly recognize it. It’s an out of body experience. As words are rolling off your tongue, you wonder how Levi would fare with this responsibility.

He’d complain the whole time and then tell the person on the other end of the video call to fuck off and get their heads out of their asses. The thought makes you scoff and you clear your throat to cover the sound.

Erwin knew your strengths and weaknesses as individuals and a team, and you were grateful for such an insightful boss and friend.

Once you seal the third donation of the morning, you take your headset off and rub your temples. You’re glad you’re free until noon, giving you some time to catch up on emails and catch up with your colleagues and friends. The drapes in your office were drawn back, illuminating your office in a faint sunny glow. Today, the sun was hiding behind the clouds so it wasn’t terribly bright.

And yes, you had drapes in your office. They were a midnight blue with threads of gold embroidered throughout. Everyone else had normal blinds, but you had seen these drapes while window shopping years ago for this new office and you knew it belonged. Something about the blue and gold made you feel royal and regal. As if this was yours and yours only.

That didn’t mean that Levi didn’t tell you how stupid your drapes were and how stupid you were at least once daily- “You think this is a stupid castle or something? You hear yourself?”

To which you would prompt reply, “if this was a castle, you’d be the damn gargoyle in front. The one that scares everyone away.”

And then he’d just ‘tch’ at you and roll his eyes.

What an ass.

You’re growing restless, so you lock your computer and get up to stretch your muscles for a few minutes. Sitting for hours at a time does a number on you in ways that you’d never expect- your shoulders sometimes hurt, your lower back, even your ass.

Maybe you need a better seat and desk setup, you muse. Walking down the hallway with your cold bagel in your left hand, you rotate your right shoulder and wince. You pass several of the new hires, Eren and Jean who seem to be bickering amongst themselves but straighten up and say ‘good morning’ to you as you pass them. You give them a smile and a wave, continuing on your way.

You stop by Hange’s office, where her door is wide open and papers are strewn all over the place. She’s viciously typing on her computer as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose in between each word. Her hair is in disarray and you sigh when you knock on her door.

“Hange,” You call, “Did you stay up all night again?”

“Huh? No way,” Hange gasps, looking at the time, “I just got caught up with things! You know- I’m this close to finishing this grant proposal! Look how much money we’re gonna get outta them! They won’t know what hit ‘em-”

“Hange,” You say firmly, “I’m calling you a cab to go home. Go to sleep. I don’t trust you to drive home, considering you’ve been up all night.”

“What?! I can drive-”

“Hange!” You interrupt her, “I’m serious! Come back tomorrow. Take it easy.”

She slumps in her chair in defeat and removes her glasses, rubbing her eyes in fatigue. “Oh alright. I guess I’m a little tired.”

“See you tomorrow, Hange,” You salute and point to your phone, “Cab’s on it’s way.”

With that, you make your way further down the hallway and come to a stop in front of Levi’s office. You knock and immediately open the door without allowing a moment of rest in between.

“What’s the point of knocking if you’re just going to barge in?” Levi asks, eyes still on his computer screen.

“It’s much more dramatic, and we both know you would’ve left me waiting. Because you’re an ass,” You reply good-naturedly, sliding into the seat in front of his desk and propping your legs up on his desk. Your shoes are in his face and he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“To what do I owe this most shitty pleasure?” Levi says, eyes narrowed at your bagel, “You here to ruin my office? Last time you were here I had to spend an hour cleaning it-”

You bite your tongue at the response you want to provide to that.

“No reason. Just have been on calls all morning. Was bored,” You shrug and wince at the slight shoulder movement.

Levi quirks an eyebrow at you but says nothing. He continues typing away, seemingly ignoring you as you munch on your half of the bagel. Once you’re finished with it, he throws a banana at you wordlessly. You fail to hide your smile.

“You’ll get hungry in about an hour with that shitty bagel. And then I’ll have to hear about it,” Levi says tonelessly, eyes trained on you. You roll your eyes at him and peel your banana.

“So you gave me this banana to shut me up?”

“Yes, it’s in my own best interest.”

A comfortable silence falls between the both of you. You eye the snow globe that you had gotten him for Christmas and his birthday on his shelf. It looks as if you had purchased it for him yesterday, when in reality it was over five years old. His office is as clean as ever, just like him.

“That’s a nice shirt,” You murmur, eyes raking over him shamelessly, “Who’s the lucky person who bought it for you?”

And honestly, he wants to do something about the smug smirk on your face. But instead he just stares at you, face as impassive as ever. His hair falls into his eyes with a practiced poise. You see the corners of his lips turn up, nearly daring to give you something resembling a smile.

“What makes you think I didn’t buy it myself?”

“Come on, Levi. You and I both know your sense of style is… questionable most times.”

“My sense of style? You really want to talk about your shitty drapes?” Levi asks, but you sense no malice in his voice.

“My drapes? Wouldn’t you like to know if the curtains match the drapes-”

“I can’t think of anything worse to know.”

You gasp in indignation, hand to your heart. “Don’t be such an ass!”

“Then don’t be such a brat!”

“Ugh,” You groan, standing up from your seat and making sure there are no crumbs falling off of you, “I have actual work to do, Ackerman. Quit wasting my time.”

“Door’s right there, sweetheart,” Levi says nonchalantly, looking back down at his planner and not sparing you a second glance.

“See you soon, handsome,” You call, turning back to wave at him and he gifts you with an upturn of his lips.

***

The Survey Corps was a nonprofit organization run by Erwin Smith and the mission of the organization was to find and provide educational resources and mentoring to the youths in the city. Specifically, the mission was to show kids who grew up in the shadows that they could have a life outside of the shadows and in the light with the help of the Survey Corps.

That’s not to say that the Survey Corps had all of the answers and all of the funds to fix the poverty in the walls. But your team tried their hardest to help the kids. Because the kids were the future.

As an organization, you had done some pretty amazing things and had some pretty amazing connections. The Survey Corps had been successful in launching many partnerships and setting up afterschool programs for the kids to find their interests. It was the kind of work that made you feel fulfilled and driven.

Not to mention, that you worked with some of the best people. Despite everyone’s differences, everyone had a clear shared passion for helping the kids of the city.

You truly loved your job, and everyone around you did as well. Ever since Erwin had promoted you to Director of Impact all those years ago and had seen your capabilities, you had really been able to thrive.

Bringing those new kids on board was your idea for the most part- Levi had complained the whole time, asking why they needed a separate youth outreach group when Erwin’s original team wasn’t even that old.

You had kindly told him that you weren’t teenagers anymore and hadn’t been in two decades. He had glared at you but nodded in agreement.

The rest of your afternoon was relatively free, you were just finishing up a few project ideas for outreach and catching up with some of the new kids.

You should probably stop calling them kids, you think dryly. They’re all in their early twenties, fresh faced and eager. Besides Mikasa- she’s almost as neutral as Levi is, with similar eyes, and you can’t help but wonder if they’re distantly related.

You rotate your shoulder again and massage it lightly with a wince. Damn, your right shoulder has been aching over the last week. Maybe you needed a real massage. Or a new chair.

You send all of your emails out quickly with your shoulder beginning to throb in pain as minutes go by.

Death by the office.

You tell Jean and Connie to meet you in the break-out room for your quick catch-up, unable to take sitting at your desk for much longer. You bring a notebook and a pen with you to the break-out room and wait for them to arrive.

They sit across from you with their stainless steel water bottles in front of them. They’re chatting animatedly, telling you about their ideas and their plans of all the good they can bring to the kids within the walls. Their shared enthusiasm makes you smile.

You start taking notes on their ideas, already thinking of ways to bring them to life. You groan softly as your hand cramps up from the pain in your right shoulder and neck shooting down your arm.

Jean calls your name and you look up.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “You look like you’re in pain.”

“Obviously she’s in pain!” Connie exclaims indignantly, “Sorry about him. He likes to state the obvious.”

“I’ll be alright. My shoulder is just- acting up today…” You trail off and rotate it, “Anyway, I like your ideas. Keep it up, I love the enthusiasm. And don’t try to out maneuver each other either.”

You look pointedly at Jean who gives you a look of innocence.

“We’re a team,” You murmur.

“Captain still calls us interns,” Connie blurts out and you can’t help but let out a laugh. That they still call Levi their Captain, because he’s so rigid with them and that he still calls them interns.

“I’ll talk to Captain grump,” You reassure them, “He calls you interns out of affection.”

“Affection? From Captain Levi? Pff,” Jean scoffs, crossing his arms.

“You’d be surprised, Jean.”

***

Levi catches your soft whistle of pain as you slide the straps of your backpack over your shoulders. He wordlessly stands behind you and pushes the straps of your arm and carries your backpack for you instead. He gives you his phone and keys to hold on to and you give him a smile in return.

He walks you to the car in silence, opening the door for you and waiting for you to get in. Levi catches your grimace and soft exhale once more as you shift in the seat.

“You told Hange to go home?” Levi asks, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” You nod, “She was here all night again. I don’t know how it gets past Erwin, but I told her to come back after she’s rested.”

Levi nods, eyes trained on the road in front of him. One hand on the steering wheel and one on his thigh. After a moment of staring off into the setting sun, you feel Levi’s hand slide into yours and his thumb rub against yours. His gaze hasn’t shifted, but you can see the light in the corner of his eyes.

He has let his hair and his scruff grow out a little longer than he usually likes- is he distracted? You can’t recall the last time his hair has been this long, but you like it. You make a mental note to ask him about it once you get home.

But as always, Levi can feel your eyes on him.

“Why are you staring?” He asks bluntly.

“Just lookin’ at your ugly mug,” You say nonchalantly, not missing the way his lips quirk up.

“You’ve been with this ugly mug for the last six years,” Levi says dryly, “And what does that say about you?”

“That I have good taste,” You beam at him and he rolls his eyes fondly.

“You’re a brat.”

“You’re an ass.”

You squeeze his hand and watch the planes of his face imperceptibly relax. He wonders how long your shoulder has been bothering you like this. You had mentioned a few times over the last week that it was an odd sort of ache, but today, it seemed like you were in a lot of pain. He’ll ask you about it when you get home.

Home. The space he’s shared with you for the last three and a half years. Levi thinks about that often. He thinks about being a rough, underground kid with nothing but dirt and danger to his name. He wonders if that kid would’ve ever dreamed of living a life like this. He often thinks about Erwin finding him so young and pledging to help him and help kids like him.

Levi often thinks about you. You, who had offered him nothing but laughs and coffee when he had nothing to give. You, who offered your shoulder when he didn’t have the strength to ask. You, who found a crack in his armor of steel and buried yourself next to him despite his roughness.

You.

Even now, he still wonders from time to time if you are aware of the extent of his adoration for you. But when you look at him in that soft way of yours, in that way that’s only reserved for him, he thinks you do.

***

Levi hears your pained gasp from the kitchen and then a call of his name. He sees you standing in your underwear, clutching your right shoulder with creased eyebrows.

“Levi,” You murmur, “Will you help me out of this shirt?”

Levi hums and brushes his knuckles over your neck gently.

“Lift your arms up for a second. This would be easier if this shirt was a button up rather than this shitty material,” He mutters, “This might hurt for a sec.”

He hears your sharp inhale and exhale as he pulls your top off. Levi pulls out one of his own shirts that has now become your sleep shirt and a pair of his shorts for you. He’s quick and precise in his movements, unclasping your bra easily and tugging his shirt over your head. He even helps you into his shorts and you press a kiss to his cheek in gratitude.

Levi rubs your shoulder gingerly, eyes cast over you in concern.

“Go sit on the couch,” Levi murmurs, “I think we still have some of that medicinal paste my mom gave us. The one that’s supposed to help with pains like this. Your shoulder is tight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s tight,” You wink at him and he shakes his head, patting your hair.

You’re tempted to follow Levi to the kitchen but refrain when he shoots you a look. Instead, you settle on the couch, stretching your legs out.

“Took you long enough,” You grumble, scooting up on the couch for him to lay behind you.

“It took me two minutes. Did you lose your sense of time as well?” Levi murmurs, pulling you into his chest.

You hum, already feeling yourself relax and take his hand in yours. Levi pulls the right side of your shirt down a little to examine your shoulder. He presses a finger to your upper neck and you hiss once his fingers press a little lower. He continues his examination, trying to figure out exactly where you’re in pain.

“Gonna give you a massage,” Levi says, “Might hurt at first. It’ll feel nice after. You can hold my hand if it does.”

“Thanks for your permission, honey,” You roll your eyes but clasp his free hand in yours once more.

His fingers are steady, gentle but firm against your skin. Levi whispers words to you, words of his day, words of what he thinks of the new interns. You correct him for the millionth time, reminding him that they’re not interns anymore. They’re employees now, part of the team. He scoffs but it pulls a laugh from you.

And then you gasp sharply when Levi’s hand prods at a knot. You squeeze his hand reflexively but after a few soothing touches, the pain washes away and the knot dissolves. Levi continues to rub your muscles and you lean further into his chest, your eyes closed in bliss.

He maneuvers you so as to not disturb you too much and spreads the topical analgesic on your shoulder, leaving your skin exposed. So that the medicine doesn’t spread on your shirt.

“Good?” Levi asks, rubbing your other shoulder. You nod, peering up at him and pecking his lips in gratitude. You try to deepen the kiss, try to rake your fingers through his hair the way he likes, but he turns his cheek.

“You’re gonna waste the medicine. It’ll stick to your shirt rather than your shoulder.”

“Seriously?” You groan.

“Blame your shitty shoulder,” Levi says and you glare at him.

“Take my shirt off then.”

“It’ll stick to your shirt when I take it off. Don’t be stupid.”

“Wow, you really thought this through,” You grumble, settling back into his chest and hoping the medicine absorbs quickly. He gives you a rare smile and kisses your forehead, his hand snaking under your shirt to rub your belly, his fingertips at your ribcage. The way he knows you like.

It had taken a long time for Levi to touch you like this. But you didn’t mind though. You were patient, and he was worth it. He was an immensely private person and while he was never ashamed of you- the thought had never even struck his mind- he preferred to keep his business within the walls of your home. Even at work, Erwin often teased both of you that he could hardly tell that you were in a long term relationship with the way you two bickered with each other and the general lack of PDA. But Hange, bless her, would scold Erwin for being so dense-

How can you not tell? They argue like a married couple!

It had taken a long time for Levi to touch you like this. He can remember when the mere act of looking at you had proven to be too much sometimes. And somehow, you always knew when he needed space. When it got to be too much. It had even taken you a long time to touch him like this. He was unlike anyone you had ever met in every way. You’re certain from the way you fit within the spaces of his arms that this is where you were meant to be.

Something gentle settles in your cheeks, in the way you blink at him, in the way you’re stroking his undercut. He very nearly purrs at the touch but still-

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” You reply, not missing his ‘tch’ in response, “Your hair’s getting long…”

You run your fingers through his dark, silky strands and leave a trail of burning embers in your wake. You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, head tilting into your hand slightly. His grown out stubble prickles your hand and you push yourself closer to him.

“Something on your mind?” You murmur, “You never go this long without a haircut. Or a shave.”

“Testing something out,” Levi says vaguely and you hum.

“Whatever you say, honey,” You reply, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll hurt yourself if you think too much.”

“Noted. Thanks for looking out for me, Levi,” You say dryly, poking his chest.

“Someone has to,” Levi mutters, “Think you need a new chair at work. You’ve always had a shitty chair. Or maybe you need a standing desk. I’ll build you one.”

You’re barely listening, eyes beginning to flutter closed and you hum in agreement. Levi is just so warm, it’s no surprise that you’re asleep in just a few minutes. Your breaths are steady against his arm as you shift a little to turn on your side. You must be tired. Levi grabs the book he’s currently reading from the coffee table, drapes a blanket over you and rubs your back as you fall into a deeper sleep.

As he reads, he can’t really focus on the words on the page. He’s busy thinking about you, and how easily you grew to trust him and to love him. Despite how long it took for him to even realize that what he felt towards you was trust and love. Levi thinks back to the kid from the Underground. That kid is still him, and he remembers the faint desire to have a semblance of this life. To feel the sun against his face, the wind in his hair. To be unabashedly himself.

And somehow, not even the freeing feeling of the sun on his face and the wind in his hair can compare to your velvet touch on his skin.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot imagines #snk imagines

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crazy4dragons · 4 years

Text

All-Nighter

Hiccup and Astrid spend the night together for the first time. Like Heaven AU. They’re 13 here and have been friends for just a few months! Friendship fluff, plus some Hiccup being a total Mama’s boy.

“Are you sure it’s okay with your mom if you sleep over?” Valka asked as she laid a plate full of barbecue chicken, corn, and mashed potatoes in front of Astrid. “I don’t want her worrying about you.”

“It’s okay,” replied Astrid, hugging her towel around her. With school out for the summer, she and Hiccup had planned an all-nighter. “I just have to be home by noon tomorrow for beach volleyball.”

“Are you cold, dear?” Valka frowned as she noticed Astrid shiver. “Hiccup has plenty of sweatshirts if you’d like one. You two probably wear about the same size.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Astrid. “Where is Hiccup, by the way?”

“He wanted to shower before he ate. He said he’s done swimming for tonight.”

Astrid bit into a chicken wing. “These are good. Did you make them, Mrs. Haddock?”

“Call me Valka. And no, Stoick actually made them. I’ve never been much of a cook.”

“Yeah, me neither. My mom tries to teach me, but I’m no good,” laughed Astrid.

Valka sat across from Astrid. “Let me give you some advice, dear. Marry a man who’s good in the kitchen and you’ll be set for life.”

Astrid laughed. “I’ll try.”

Smiling, Valka dug into her own plate of food. “By the way, I want to thank you for reaching out to Hiccup when we first moved here. He’s a very sweet boy, but he’s always had such a hard time making friends. You don’t know how happy he was when he came home and told me you invited him to the Zipplebacks concert.”

“Well, I’m lucky to have him as a friend,” Astrid said.

Just then, Stoick appeared on the patio. “I got the iced tea if any of yer want any,” he announced, holding up a tall pitcher of homemade iced tea.

“I’ll have some, love,” Valka responded.

“Could I have some, too?” asked Astrid.

“Of course, lass.” Stoick poured both Valka and Astrid a glass before sitting down beside his wife.

“I was just telling Astrid how much we appreciate her reaching out to Hiccup. She’s been a great friend to him since we moved here.”

“Speaking of Hiccup.” Stoick gestured to the back door, where Hiccup emerged.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. Hey, Astrid.” Hiccup took his place at the table. “Can I have some corn? And a couple pieces of chicken?”

“No broccoli?” questioned Valka.

Hiccup wrinkled his nose. “No, thank you.”

“Iced tea?” Stoick offered.

“Yes, please.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly as the little group talked and laughed together. After asking to be excused, Hiccup and Astrid hurried inside and up to Hiccup’s bedroom.

“Can I use your shower?” asked Astrid, digging through her backpack to find her hairbrush and clean clothes.

“Yeah, go for it. I’ll start looking through Netflix for a good movie to watch.” Hiccup settled onto his bed and grabbed the TV remote.

Astrid vanished into the bathroom, reappearing twenty minutes later in a pair of cozy pajamas. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“Of course not.” Hiccup patted the empty space beside him. “Come on up.” After she climbed onto his mattress, he said, “But if we decide to give up on the all-nighter tonight, which we probably should if you have a volleyball game tomorrow, you can sleep in the guest room if you want. Or you can stay here. The choice is all yours.”

“I’ll probably stay.” She pulled the covers to her chin and settled against a fluffy pillow. “I’ve always thought it would be fun share a room with someone.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Did you find anything to watch?” asked Astrid, nodding towards the TV.

“Yeah. I thought we could watch Thor.”

“It figures you’d pick something that relates to Norse mythology.”

“You can pick the next one,” Hiccup promised. “We have plenty of time. It’s only nine o’ clock.”

“Deal.”

“Also, my dad bought microwave popcorn. If you want some, I can go make it before I start the movie.”

“Popcorn sounds good.” Astrid slipped out from beneath the covers. “I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.” Hiccup led Astrid to the kitchen, where they popped two bags of popcorn and poured it into a big bowl. “We have M&Ms, too. I’ll bring them with us because we might want some after the popcorn.”

“I could go for M&Ms.” Astrid grabbed the popcorn while Hiccup found the candy. “By the way, I hung my swimsuit in your bathroom to dry,” she said as they walked back upstairs. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. Just don’t forget to take it home with you tomorrow.”

“I’ll try not to, but if I do, I have a couple more in my closet.” She settled atop the mattress. “You know, I wanted to get a bikini to add to my collection this summer, but my mom said I’m too young even though literally every other girl our age is wearing them.”

“I can’t relate,” laughed Hiccup, climbing back onto his bed after Astrid.

“It’s just frustrating because I’m embarrassed enough to be the only girl on my volleyball team who doesn’t wear a bra yet. If I had a bikini, I could at least pretend I have boobs.” She paused. “Sorry, this is probably weird for you.”

“No,” shrugged Hiccup. “I get what you’re saying. I was the shortest boy in our grade this year. I’ve always been. My mom says I’ll catch up to everyone else eventually, but I’m tired of it. I mean, even you’re taller than me.”

“Only by an inch or two,” said Astrid. “But both your parents are tall, so you’re probably gonna end up tall, too. You might just be a late bloomer like I clearly am.”

“I hope so. I’ve always been small and skinny, though. My dad calls me a talking fishbone. I wish I was bigger like him. He’s 6’9” and almost 400 pounds. And here I am at five feet tall and barely 110 pounds.”

“I’m 5’2”, so you’ll catch up to me soon.” Astrid grabbed a handful of popcorn. “But anyway, are you gonna start the movie or what?”

“I forgot about the movie for a second,” said Hiccup, pressing the play button on the remote. “There we go. Do you want the light off or on?”

“Off would be good.”

Hiccup reached over to turn out his bedside lamp before reaching into the popcorn bowl and focusing on the TV.

…

Astrid’s eyes opened as a bright ray of sun shone through the curtains, signaling that it was morning. For a moment, she was surprised to find herself pressed against a warm body. However, as she fully awakened, she came to realize that the warm body was Hiccup, and remembered that they’d had a sleepover.

“Hey, Astrid.” Hiccup twisted around. “I tried to give you space last night, but I suppose you like to cuddle.” He let out a soft laugh.

Blushing, Astrid noticed that her arm was draped across Hiccup’s middle and quickly withdrew it. Judging by their current position, she guessed that she’d been lying with her head against his shoulder and her torso pressed into his back while she slept. “I’m sorry.” She slid back to her side of the bed.

“Don’t be sorry. It was kind of nice.” Hiccup paused. “Don’t go spreading this around, but I’m kind of a big Mama’s boy and I used to cuddle with my mom every night before bed. I only stopped a few years ago, so it was good to…” He trailed off. “With you,” he quickly added.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Mama’s boy,” said a new voice.

Hiccup and Astrid looked up to see Valka in the doorway.

“Oh, hey, Mom,” greeted Hiccup.

“Good morning, loves. It’s just past ten-thirty, so I thought I’d check in to see if you were awake. How did the two of you sleep?” She pressed a kiss against Hiccup’s forehead.

“Fine,” replied Hiccup, hugging Valka.

“Great,” said Astrid with a yawn.

“Still sleepy, dear?”

Astrid nodded and buried herself in the covers.

“Well, there’s breakfast downstairs if either of you want any. And Astrid, sweetheart, don’t forget your volleyball game.”

“Can Hiccup come?” Astrid asked.

“Can I?” echoed Hiccup.

“I’m going to have to say no,” answered Valka. “You have a lot of chores you still need to finish. Your room needs to be vacuumed, the rafts in the pool needs to be put away, your bathroom needs to be cleaned, and you have to work on getting through your summer reading list.”

“Can’t I do all that tomorrow?”

“No, love. You’ve already procrastinated.”

Hiccup groaned.

“Maybe you can go to Astrid’s next game, but right now I need you to stay on top of your chores. Alright?”

“Fine,” he sighed.

“Thank you, dear. I’ll see you in the kitchen when you’re ready to eat.” Giving Hiccup one more kiss, Valka left the room.

Hiccup relaxed against the pillows for a few minutes before sliding off the bed. “Okay, Astrid, I’m gonna go grab breakfast. Are you coming?”

No response.

“Astrid?”

Still no response.

Hiccup peeked beneath the covers to find Astrid sound asleep. He considered waking her, but she looked too peaceful to disturb. Her lips were ever-so-slightly curved into a smile, her hands clutched a fluffy pillow, and her chest rose and fell with each soft breath she took. Clearly she needed the extra rest, and clearly she was comfortable snuggled amongst his bedding.

Sighing, Hiccup reached over and tugged the covers back up to her nose. He then set an alarm on his phone so she wouldn’t miss her game and headed towards the door. But as soon as he had his hand on the knob, he glanced over at Astrid one last time. She made his oversized bed look so cozy, so inviting, that he slowly turned around. Biting his lip, he climbed in next to her, cautiously rested his chin on her shoulder, and closed his eyes.

Breakfast could wait.

#hiccstrid #like heaven au #modern au #fanfic #my writing #httyd #hiccstrid fluff #best friends fluff

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kabira · 4 years

Text

06 | disguise

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.5k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

Joshua walked into the cafeteria alert, his head held up and gaze searching for a familiar brunet head amongst the thick crowd in the room. Usually he’d be late, probably held up talking to a teacher or waiting for Vernon, but after the experiences of the past week, he knew better than to wait up for his distracted friend.

“Sorry!” he yelled after almost colliding with a girl and making her spill her banana milk down the front of her shirt. She glared at him as he gripped his tray tighter and winced, quickly shouldering through the group before him to get to his table and as far out of her reach as possible. “Coming through!”

He reached the empty table as the same time Vernon did, both of them putting down their trays at the same moment. Joshua raised his eyebrows, letting a small smile form on his face as he slipped into the seat next to Vernon’s. “The prodigal returns,” he announced. “Where have you been, dude? I’ve barely seen you all week.”

Vernon shrugged, tapping his fingers on the table. He seemed distracted, eyes darting around the cafeteria as if waiting for something, or someone, to appear. Joshua knew that look—it was the one that indicated that something bad was about to happen, most likely within a ten-meter radius. “Um,” the blue-haired boy muttered with a small frown, “I don’t have to worry about that Rhino guy busting down the door, do I?”

“What?” Vernon glanced at him with wide eyes, as if only just having noticed he was here. “Uh, no. At least, I don’t think so.” He smiled sheepishly, hands sliding over the tabletop to grip his tray again, though Joshua guessed it was just to stop them from moving. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Joshua sighed, placing a fingertip against the bridge of his glasses and sliding them up his sweat-slicked nose. It wasn’t even hot out, but being in a room packed with sweaty, hormonal bodies will do that to you. “I was asking you what you’ve been doing to keep busy in the last few days.”

“Nothing much,” Vernon said, twirling his plastic fork. He looked distracted, maybe a little tired, but despite the dark circles under them, his eyes were alight. “Because of the new team, I have to do all of these S.H.I.E.L.D. training projects with them, and they keep giving up these random hero assignments like stopping robberies and rescuing cats from trees. You know, the usual.” He shrugged. “It’s kind of annoying that I have barely any creative freedom with my fighting these days.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Joshua quipped. “If you call flying solo creative freedom.”

His best friend grinned. “Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you,” he said, suddenly excited as he leaned forward on his elbows, eyes glittering. “I got a job in Dr. Connors’s lab.”

“That biotech guy who worked with your dad?” Joshua raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. “When?”

“Last Tuesday.” Vernon’s eyes had taken on an almost dreamy quality as he talked about his new job. “It’s just the post of research assistant, pretty basic stuff really, but he lets me take part in some of the data collection sometimes. Man, you should look at all the amazing equipment in his lab. He’s got a BOD incubator, an electrophoresis chamber—”

“Vernon.” Both the boys looked up at the source of the voice, which stood before them in the form of Felix Liu (or, as he was better known, Felix Lee). The boy’s eyes glazed over Joshua as if he wasn’t even there before coming to rest on Vernon’s with a kind of communicative intensity. “You’re wanted in the principal’s office.”

Vernon stared at the boy for a few moments, looking confused, and Felix raised his eyebrows, glaring at him meaningfully. Joshua glanced between them, wanting to say something but a little apprehensive of doing so. “The principal’s office?” Vernon echoed, a defiant note in his voice. “Why?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Felix asked, scowling. “Coulson himself stopped me in the hallway, so it must be urgent. You should probably go talk to him.”

Something like realization flickered across Vernon’s features. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, right. You’re right.” He got up suddenly, casting an unsure look at Joshua as if he’d just remembered there was a witness to their exchange. He glanced at Felix with a conflicted look in his eye, clutching the back of the chair uncertainly. “Uh, there’s something I should tell you—”

“Tell me later,” Felix cut him off impatiently, waving him away. “Just go.”

Vernon glanced at Joshua again, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, then stopped himself. He shook his head, chest deflating as he let go of a long breath, before turning around and making his way towards the exit.

Joshua kept his eyes on his retreating back as he went, not turning even when he felt Felix pull up a chair opposite him. Only when Vernon finally disappeared behind the double doors did he turn to his food, which lay untouched on his plate. Something was up, and he had a good idea about what it was.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Felix asked, making Joshua look up at the sound of his voice. The boy’s cheeks were puffed out, mouth already filled with whatever they were supposed to consume by way of food for lunch. When Joshua didn’t answer, he cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I don’t feel like eating,” the blue-haired boy murmured, but unwrapped his sandwich anyway. The new kids had started eating at his, Luce’s and Vernon’s usual table in the past week, which Joshua was completely okay with—except he usually had at least one of his old friends to keep things from becoming too awkward. Between the three of them, Joshua was probably the one with the worst social skills.

He took a tiny bite of his sandwich, and glanced despairingly at the door, waiting for Luce to show up. Heck, even Yeji or that other guy—Yangyang?—would have been welcome. Felix had always struck him as the silent type, but he didn’t yet know if it was a strong silent or a sensitive silent. Eating this way was awkward, to say the least, but the only topic of conversation Joshua could think of was probably not fit for discussion in public.

Ah, to hell with that. “You’re Iceman, right?”

Felix looked up so quickly Joshua heard something crack in his neck. He felt a sudden, sharp, bite-like pain in the back of his right hand, which had been lying much too close to Felix’s tray. “Ouch!” Joshua pulled back his hand with a hiss, cradling it against his chest. “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry, I—” Felix stopped with a small scowl. “Hey. Don’t go around saying stuff like that!”

“So you are Iceman,” Joshua said. “Can’t really deny it now.”

Felix blushed at the statement. The color that flooded his cheeks was startlingly bright against the pallor of his skin. “Who told you that?” he demanded. “Was it Vernon?”

“No, I kind of figured it out by myself.” He lightly touched the back of his hand again, making sure the feeling in it hadn’t been stopped entirely. “Between three new superheroes showing up with Spider-Man and three new kids dropping right into the middle of the session less than a day apart, it wasn’t hard to guess,” he said. “You were sent here by the biggest super spies in the world and the best disguise they could come up with was hair dye and a last name change?”

Felix didn’t snap at him again, but the look he was giving him was definitely hostile. “You have a better idea?” he countered. “In case you haven’t noticed, no one in the school has realized my identity yet.”

“Except me.”

“Except you,” he added, though a little sourly. “And that’s probably because you already know who Spider-Man is.”

Joshua considered this. “Well, that is true,” he admitted. “But it’s still kind of surprising that none of the kids that go here have figured it out yet.”

“They probably don’t want to believe there’s a mutant in their school,” Felix muttered. Joshua noticed how his face darkened as he continued staring at his food, stabbing the mashed potatoes with his plastic spoon. “People believe what they want to see.”

Joshua studied the boy, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the probably unconscious crease in the middle of his forehead. “Are you…” he started, then hesitated. What was he supposed to say?

Felix waved the half-question away, and spooned in a huge mouthful of his potatoes, indicating that the conversation was over. Joshua took another bite of his sandwich, wondering what was going through the blond’s head. Not having a secret identity, he didn’t know what it would feel like to have a common high school kid figure it out within days of meeting you. Something bad, probably.

There was a metallic clunk as someone placed their tray on the table. Luce swung her bag off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor, and took a seat next to Joshua. “Sorry I’m late, got caught up in a meeting,” she said, seemingly oblivious to the tension at the table. “What’d I miss?”

Joshua cast a furtive glance at Felix, only to find the boy’s eyes already trained on him. He hadn’t noticed before, but Felix’s eyes were brown. Joshua had never taken a close look at Iceman’s eyes, but somehow, he knew the brown eyes were a result of contact lenses.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all.”

Running in the hallways wasn’t allowed, but when you were going to the principal’s office, Vernon guessed it was an exception.

He sprinted all the way to the room, equal parts concerned and annoyed by the summons. If Coulson had called on him in school, then it was probably something important—but on the other hand, he hadn’t asked for Felix. Maybe it was a specifically Spider-Man related emergency.

When he burst through the door into the office, Coulson was leaning against the side of his desk, arms folded over his chest. The only other person in the room was Yangyang, who was seated on one of the chairs before the principal’s table, picking at the stuffing peeking out of the worn-out arm of the chair.

Vernon let the door shut behind him before stepping in, glancing between the two in confusion. The atmosphere definitely didn’t feel urgent. “Agent—I mean, Principal Coulson,” he said, wincing slightly at his slip-of-the-tongue. “You asked for me?”

“I did.” Coulson uncrossed his arms, placing the heels of his hands against the edge of the table. “Take a seat.”

Vernon crossed the room hesitantly, slowly sitting on the unoccupied chair. “Uh,” he said, glancing at Yangyang’s lounging figure with a frown. “Is this about something important?”

“It is indeed,” the agent confirmed, straightening. “If you consider the Shocker important.”

“Shocker?” Vernon repeated. “Isn’t he in S.H.I.E.L.D. jail or something?”

Yangyang snorted, and Vernon shot him a murderous look. “Unfortunately, no,” Coulson answered. “We’ve been trying to apprehend him, but he’s been laying low for a while.”

“Shocker, laying low?” Vernon raised an eyebrow. “Not something you see every day.”

“Yesterday, he robbed a bank on Madison Avenue,” Coulson continued, ignoring him. “I didn’t call you in then because you had a pop quiz in history going on, but—”

Yangyang groaned. “Seriously? Man, I could have used the distraction.”

The agent gave him a sharp look, before facing Vernon and speaking. “He’s out again today, terrorizing citizens in Central Park,” he said. “Usually, I’d prefer for other professionals to take on him, but orders are orders, and you, Vernon, have the most experience with him and will probably be able to take over him the most quickly.” He looked almost regretful, probably about them having to miss school hours. Damn, he was really getting into his role as the principal. “You are to leave immediately.”

“Wait, what’s he doing in Central Park?” Vernon frowned. “That’s not the most lucrative venture for a small-time villain.”

“Terrorizing citizens.” Coulson raised his eyebrows. “As I said.”

“Terrorizing citizens…?” Vernon muttered, sitting up a little. “That’s strange.”

“What’s up, Parker?” Yangyang asked with a mocking grin, uncrossing his legs and getting to his feet. He stretched, flexing his shoulders. “Disappointed in your little pet project?”

“Shut up, bucket head,” Vernon murmured. “It’s just not his usual style, but I guess he’s branching out.” He pursed his lips. “Still, I can’t imagine why.”

“And I can’t imagine why the two of you would stand around bickering and wasting your time when there’s a dangerous criminal on the loose,” Coulson said firmly, giving them a very teacher-like look. “Get going already.”

Vernon blinked. He glanced at Yangyang, who stood by the door looking at him expectantly, and then at Agent Coulson. “Wait,” he muttered, brow creasing as it slowly dawned on him where this was heading. “What about Tiger and Iceman?”

“They’re not needed for this simple mission,” Coulson said. “I’m sure the two of you can handle this problem by yourselves just fine.”

“Unless you’re scared of old Shocker, that is.” Yangyang gave him a lopsided smirk. “In which case, I’m sure Agent Coulson wouldn’t have a problem packing you an extra pair of underwear when you wet your pants.”

Vernon glared at him, his grip tightening on the armrests as he refused to get up. His gaze swiveled to the agent, eyes going round and pleading. “What about sending me with White Tiger instead?” he asked imploringly. “I’m sure we could take Shocker down more efficiently since we’ve had more time to practice our maneuvers together—”

“Go. Now.” Coulson was definitely not taking no for an answer as he gave him a stern look. Vernon stood up slowly, not taking his eyes off the man, just in case he got a last-minute break, but he was unrelenting. “Today would be good.”

“What are you going to tell your teachers?” Vernon asked desperately as he reluctantly made his way towards the door, where Yangyang was still waiting for him. He gave the boy a disbelieving look, surprised that he was willing to go along with all of this. Their animosity was, on most days, mutual. “We have bio lab later, and we’re both partners, and if I miss this class I might—”

“Don’t worry about that, leave it to me,” Coulson said, now simply looking impatient. “And stop making excuses to get out of the situation. Every little second you waste here doing that means another second of those innocent civilians being in danger. What happened to all your preaching about responsibility?”

Saying this, he pushed the two boys out of his office and shut the door in their face. Vernon stared at it glumly, finally accepting his fate.

“Come on, then, partner,” Yangyang said. He stood next to him with his arms crossed over his chest, grinning like a cat after a catch. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

#kwritersworldnet #caratwritersclub #svtcreations #svt scenarios #seventeen #svt #vernon #spiderman #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #vernon fluff #vernon angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #vernon fanfic #q

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baeklination · 4 years

Text

Ocean: the deep (2)

Pic: comma.

Date: 210114

Warnings/Contains: angst, abuse (ment./emot.), gen.explicit language

Pairing: au! Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 7,9k

NOTE: It’s not all angst, but describing it as fluff feels off. On sensitive/explicit topics.

Prologue Masterlist

¤¤

Alot of us tell ourselves “I’d know”, but chances are you wouldn’t. Not if they didn’t want you to. And if they did, showed you a sliver of the truth, would you be brave enough to see it instead of thinking up an excuse?

¤¤

“Are you okay?”, Beanie asks, putting the break on her stroller so you can sit down on the park bench.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. A little tired. Still getting used to drinking wine instead of mixed drinks I guess.”

“No, not you. I mean you guys, you and Baekhyun.”

“What do you mean? You saw him last night.” Doubt finding its way to your mind - she has after all known him for longer than you. “Did...Did he say something to you?”

“No, but I noticed…”, she turns to you, stalling. “Don’t get mad, alright?”

“Why would I get mad?”

“Just… I’m gonna say something and I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

“Okay, I won’t get mad, Bean. What?”

“I’ve been married to Minnie for a while now, so I see Baekhyun alot, and I’ve heard some things - rumours I guess - that maybe, you know…”

“Don’t say it, Bean. Please don’t say it.” Heart sinking, you brace yourself and ask her.

“That he sleeps around..?”

“No, not that. More that he’s maybe...not so...kind.”

“What..?”, you burst out.

“Like I said, it’s rumours, I never really hung out with his girlfriends before, so I wouldn’t know. But I…”

Beanie’s fidgeting makes your throat tighten.

“I feel like Baekhyun used to dote on you, but lately he’s been acting more like...your dad.”

“That’s ridiculous..!”, you say, swatting your hand in the air. “Besides, don’t dads dote on their kids, hm?”

“But you’re not his daughter”, she says bluntly, fixing her eyes on you.

“Are you talking about something specific that happened last night?”

¤¤

Hearing the lock turn you breathe a sigh of relief; having a dinner party at home without the owner of said home wasn’t your plan. Baekhyun stops in the living room to greet his guests and engage in the usual banter - as if he didn’t see half of them earlier in the day - before you hear his footsteps nearing the kitchen.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetie. I just couldn’t seem to get out..!”, he huffs.

Putting on your best Suzy Homemaker air (jokingly, of course), you turn around with your arms open.

“You’re just in time, Baekhyun. Honestly, I just took the lasagna out of the oven.”

“Wow, this looks great…”, Baekhyun says, taking the sight of your carefully planned dishes in before kissing you. “But…Are you wearing that?”, he says leaning back, his eyes slightly narrowing.

“Hm? You picked this dress. Don’t you remember?”, you say puzzled.

“Of course I remember. But it’s...more for me, isn’t it? Just me. Maybe put on something more modest?”

“Modest..?”, you laugh. “This isn’t worse than any of the other girls...”

“Well, you don’t have to be like them, do you? You’re my girl, aren’t you?”, he coos.

You know he’s being overly sensitive, but it won’t cost your ego much to change - not as much as this dinner ruined would, so you lift your hands up in defeat.

“Okay, you win”, you sigh.

His smile lights up not only his face, but your entire being. His hands on your cheeks is a promise of sweet touches to be given later on; his lips one of your name being whispered in love.

“I’ll set the table, sweetie.”

“You changed your dress?”, Beanie asks.

“Serves me right for not wearing an apron”, you chuckle as you sit down.

Baekhyun takes your hand and smiles.

“Please, everyone”, you gesture to the fully laden table “enjoy.”

¤¤

“No, I mean in general.”

“Well, in general, you’ve nothing to worry about. Sure, I don’t get flowers delivered every other day like before, but that’s because I practically live with him now. You know how it is”, you say, gesturing to her stroller. “The beginning is always a fairytale, and then it becomes something else. You don’t need all the trimmings when you realise you…”

“Love each other?”, Beanie says, leaning forward with big eyes.

“Yeah…”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Baekhyun said the L word to you..!”

“A month ago. And every day since. God, why am I embarrassed to say it!? Stop laughing, Bean!”

“I’m sorry. This is great!”, Beanie replies, clapping her hands. “Now I feel bad for dragging him like that...”

“I won’t tell on you.” You sit quiet for a moment, then continue. “And when you say “dad”, if you mean how he sometimes suggests things for me to do, or wear, I dunno, it’s because I’ve asked him to. You know I’m not from around here, so sometimes when we go places, say for dinner, I want to know what cutlery to use, or what those goddamn french words mean, you know. It’s embarrassing - for me - to be so obviously misplaced…”

“Shit, don’t I know it…”, Beanie shakes her head. “What? You know I grew up on the other side. First time Minnie took me to a corporate event...he called it “a party”, so you know I rolled up in my shortest sequin number and my highest glitter heels… Shit, the looks I got!”, she wheezes.

“Those stiffs must’ve thought you were the entertainment!”

“Hey! But you’re right. I tell you, Minnie didn’t get any for a week.”

After wiping her tears Beanie gets serious again:

“I’m sorry, alright? Only looking out for you. But who knows...soon I might be looking for a maid of honour attire”, she smirks.

You cross your fingers and smile back.

¤¤

“I’ll be a happy man the day I don’t have to read the name Seung Inc. again”, Baekhyun sighs and slumps down on the couch, lifting your head to rest on his thigh.

“Settlement getting the better of you?”

“Their stupidity might”, he chuckles, giving you a kiss. “I’ll take Ga’ round the block before bed.”

“No, I can do it.”

“I could use some fresh air. And your overdramatic drama starts soon, doesn’t it?”

“It’s a perfectly lifelike show, Baekhyun. What, you mean your boss doesn’t slap you cross the face?”, you giggle, remembering his disbelief at the scene.

“No, but I might slap him one of these days. Come on Ga’”, he says, getting up and patting his thigh. “Gawa, come here.”

Gawa doesn’t move, so you nudge him off of the couch:

“Go!”

“Why do I always have to call that dog three times?”, Baekhyun shakes his head.

“What that dog thinks is anyone’s guess. He probably likes the way you say his name. Don’t forget-”

“Bags. I know.”

Feeling a little antsy you busy yourself with a bit of tidying up in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher, wiping the counters and the like. There’s really no need, as you’ve already done it, but it’s something to do while waiting for Baekhyun to come back, for him to go to bed. “Take it easy. It’s just a search, what’s gonna happen? Nothing. It’s not true, so nothing.”

When he’s finally tucked in you bring in his water bottle - which he always forgets - and put it on the nightstand.

“Thanks.”

“All set?”

“Beyond all set…”

“Mm, I can see you won’t need a bedtime story to fall asleep”, you say, running your fingers through his hair.

“Depends…”, he says, seemingly half asleep. “Depends on the story”, he smiles, guiding your hand downwards.

You pull it away. When he doesn’t even bother opening his eyes you know he wasn’t serious anyway, so you turn off the light and say goodnight, closing the door behind you.

¤¤

Finishing your show you mute the TV and sit still for a while, making sure you can’t hear any sound except Gawa’s snoozing. “Let’s just do this.” You grab your computer and start reading. You’re relieved to find you can’t relate to most of the things you read, but once in a while the text makes you stop;

Patronizing; one month:

Going through your phone Baekhyun had laughed when you suggested he wouldn’t like finding you going through his. “Go ahead. But I doubt you’d be able to discern anything.”

“What, ‘cus I’m not a corporate lawyer suddenly I’m dumb..?”

“No...But put it this way. Since I am a lawyer I know certain things. But you know things I don’t, sweetie. Like scanning barcodes, or working a cash register. That’s more your thing”, he had smiled.

You had definitely felt some kind of way about the conversation. But seeing as he’d already said he wasn’t calling you dumb you didn’t find the words to approach it without it seeming like you were picking a fight.

“Joking”: Two months:

“Baekhyun, I don’t think this is my size. Why’d you cut the label off?”

“It was huge. I knew you’d do it anyway. Maybe you’ve gained weight…”, he said, chuckling at how the fabric cut into your waist.

You knew you hadn’t, and comparing it to your other trousers, the one he bought was definitely smaller.

Monitoring your whereabouts: three months:

Stacking condiments on the shelf at work you’d seen him coming down the aisle; a lovely surprise in the middle of a long shift. “Hi..! What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, just wanted to see you’re okay.”

“I don’t have it on me, you know that.”

“Okay, you got me. I was gonna pretend I wanted snacks, but really I missed you.”

You had found it adorable that he’d gotten into the car just to see you. But had he maybe done it to see if your text was true - if you were really covering a shift for a sick coworker?

“Sweetie…”

Drunk with sleep you rub your eyes. Baekhyun is kneeling next to the couch, the white light from your laptop making him an angelic figure in the otherwise dark room.

“Oh”, you scrunch your face. “I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“You must have”, he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Who’s being abused?”

You jerk, suddenly fully awake, and look at your screen: “Signs to look out for”. You scramble to sit up and close the web browser.

“No, Beanie just-”

“Minnie’s abusing Beanie?”

“No. Someone in her mom circle...she thought maybe. I don’t know…” You know it’s impossible Baekhyun doesn’t hear the lie, but he doesn’t let on. “I just thought I’d see if there’s anything she could look...out for, you know. She’s busy with the baby and all...”, you shrug your shoulders, trying to brush it off as nothing special.

“If she’s that busy maybe she shouldn’t put her nose in other people’s business”, he says, cocking his head.

There’s an almost undetectable smile on his lips which sends a shiver through your body.

“It’s not like that, she-”

“Come to bed”, he says getting up on his feet.

“I... Come on, Gawa.”

“No, he stays. I don’t want him in the room.”

There’s something distinctly different in how his shoulders look as he walks away. Something that makes you drag out your visit to the bathroom, hoping he’ll be asleep by the time you’re done. Tiptoeing into your room you breathe a sigh of relief, until you get into bed and he immediately rolls over to hug you. Any other day this would’ve been nothing less than what you expected - and wanted - but now all you can think of is how fast your heart is beating, and whether he can feel it or not. And Beanie…“What if he asks her? I can’t tell her to lie for me, then I’d have to explain why I did it in the first place…” But your thoughts are interrupted when Baekhyun exhales loudly into your neck and pulls your body closer, easing you out of your underwear.

¤¤

Cutting the alarm at 08.15 you sit up to find the bed empty. Well, empty of Baekhyun. He’d let the door stay open for Gawa to jump into bed, as he is now halfheartedly wagging his tail, looking at you. The fact that he’s not already in your face, vying for your attention means Baekhyun has both walked and fed him. And that means he’s not angry with you about last night.

“Ay, ay”, you sigh getting out of bed, tying your robe tightly. “Maybe I should cut back even more on my hours like he wants. Whaddya say, Ga’? Staying home watching dramas all day, wouldn’t that be something?”

Shuffling out to the kitchen you see a note on the counter: “I’m meeting Seung Inc.redible ass for dinner. Home early, call me if you want take out.” Baekhyun always ends his notes with a star. Never a heart, or a smiley, but a star. Today it makes you pause, mulling last night over in your head. Not so much thinking as feeling. “Sweetie…” Nothing had happened, yet deep down you know something had. But since it is deep down you swat it away with ease, going about your day as planned.

Coming back to your apartment to find half of your plants either dead or hanging on to life by a thread was the twig that broke the back of your dubble home lifestyle. The surfaces being covered in dust and your clothes smelling stuffy was just icing on said broken back.

“...and cleaning up feels like a waste since I’ll be gone and the same thing’s gonna happen..”, you complain over the phone to Baekhyun.

“Sweetie..? Are you asking me if you can move in with me..?”, Baekhyun says at the other end. You can tell he has a smile on his face.

“Wha-no… I’m not”, you laugh, suddenly realising that’s exactly what it sounds like. “I was just venting.”

“So you don’t wanna move in with me?”

If you say yes it will really seem as if you were fishing, so you just stare at the phone.

“You there…?”

“Yeah, I just… Are you really asking?”

“Yes…”

What you want to do is swing from your lamp like it’s a merry-go-round and scream, but you keep it cool, clearing your throat.

“Well, it’s a pretty big decision. Of course I’d say yes, but I have to confer with my associate.”

“This associate of yours, does it happen to be a big furry thing who is probably lying next to you, listening in..?”

“Maybe…”

“Mr. Gawa, I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Baekhyun! I’ve seen that movie - it’s not a good offer..!”, you holler.

“Okay, okay”, he laughs. “My offer is love. Good enough?”

You scrunch your face and smother a yelp of delight.

“Good enough, Baekhyun…”

“Great”, he huffs. “Typical Seung, calling to rain on my happy moment… You’ll come home tonight then?”

“My first night as the lady of the manor, wouldn’t miss it. Go easy on him..! Love you.”

“Love you. Bye.”

You sit in disbelief for a moment. Did an everyday phone call with Baekhyun just end in you moving in with him? A dozen unfinished thoughts goes through your mind; giving up the apartment seems daunting somehow; what do I do with all my stuff; does he have room for what I wanna bring..? But it is mostly happy thoughts painted in pink.

“Hope this puts an end to the tiffs we’ve had lately. Brings it back to how it was before”, you sigh. “Look alive, Gawa - you’re moving up in the world..!”, you say, wrestling with him for a bit.

¤¤

“Agh!”, you huff, kicking your shoes off in the hallway and dropping your bag on the floor.

Baekhyun, for once home earlier than you, gives you a curious look from the sofa.

“Rough day?”

“My car won’t start..!”

“How’d you get home?”

“It was fine, but when I turned the ignition off my headlights wouldn’t go out, so I was gonna do it again, but it wouldn’t start. I’ve been sitting in the parking lot for fifteen minutes revving the engine like Wacky Races..! I had to cut the battery ‘cus of the lights”, you complain, slumping down next to him with your head in his lap. “I was so angry I almost forgot Ga’ in the car. Ahh, that fucking car, Baekhyun..!”, you laugh desperately.

“You gonna leave it at the shop?”

“I can’t afford it right now. Not again.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll pay for it.”

“I don’t want you to. I’ll take the bus.”

“What’s a bus?”, Baekhyun frowns, choking a smile.

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head, as if you don’t think him playing with high class manners is funny.

“Wait, I wanna lie down”, he says, stretching out on the couch with you as his blanket.

“I’ll give you money for the cab tomorrow”, he says, kissing your hand.

“There’s no cab. I’m taking the bus. But thank you.”

“Some start to being the lady of the manor… Speaking of which, did you give your… How many months is the notice...?”

“Three. No, I…”, you pause.

Baekhyun shakes his head a little, a question.

“I thought you might wanna talk it over.”

“We already did..? You having second thoughts?”

“Of course not..! It was just in case, since I was whining about it, maybe you asked...on the spur of the moment, kinda?”

His honeyed laughter rings in your ears.

“You think I’d ask you to move in on the spur of the moment?”

“Well, no...when you say it like that it sounds different..!”

“ Ah, what to do with you, sweetie”, he sighs. “You wanna have a party maybe?”

“A party?”

“Not a rave, but invite a few people, you know.”

“Hm...eh, I hadn’t...hm, okay.”

“We don’t have to.”

“No, I just hadn’t thought about it. It’ll be fun, let’s do it. Wait, I don’t even know - do you have a storage room in the building? If my stuff can fit there or whether I should rent something?”

“You’re bringing your things here, aren’t you?”

“I mean the big things, my furniture and…”

“You don’t need them anymore, just throw them out? Or are you planning on leaving me..?”, Baekhyun teases.

“Nooo. But I spent money on them, I don’t wanna just chuck ‘em out.”

“It’s stupid, but do as you wish”, he sighs.

“It’s not. Humour me. For a while at least.”

In these mundane things is where your heart is, feeling Baekhyun’s breathing and warmth through his thin t-shirt while he watches the news, lightly scratching the nape of your neck, but otherwise paying no particular attention to you.

¤¤

Even though you at first hadn’t a thought of having a moving-in party, the thought really grew on you, and you decided to throw something together. It was all rather ad-hoc: drinks, ramyun, games, a few shiny balloons you’d gotten from work and a dozen guests. Most of them were from Baekhyun’s office, but that didn’t matter, you knew and liked them well enough. Oddly enough, Beanie hadn’t gotten back to you today. You knew she was coming, she’d been too excited about the news not to, but you couldn’t get a hold of her now. You’d been checking your phone so often it was borderline rude, so you’d left it in the kitchen for some peace of mind, but now hearing your ringtone you excuse yourself and dash to get it. It’s not her.

“Hey, I forgot the code to the gate..?”

“Didn’t I send you a text with it?”

“Oh… I forgot that to..! Sorry, be right up.”

Without being unappreciative of the friends that are here you can’t help missing the one who isn’t. You could probably drink and laugh away the night with anyone of these people, but with Beanie it’s different. You don’t know if it’s because both of you are from “the other side of the tracks” and somehow ended up in fancy places, but you do know your connection with her was instant, like meeting your twin from another lifetime. You know her word is her bond and that’s why her silence unnerves you.

“Problem?”

A little startled, you spin around to see Baekhyun.

“Nah, just Katy asking for the code.”

“Really..?”, he frowns. “You seem a bit…”

“I thought it might be Bean…”, you shrug your shoulders. “Can you try Minnie, please?”

“He’s out of town on business”, Baekhyun replies casually.

“What?”

“He had to go, sweetie.”

“Had to go? Don’t you decide that?”

“What’s your point?”

“Well… Why didn’t you tell me?”

Baekhyun cocks his head to the side. It makes your chest tighten.

“You want me to ask you how to do my job?”

“Of course not”, you say, deflated. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Well, you have guests in the other room. Maybe you should think more about them instead of sitting in here having a tantrum over someone who doesn’t even answer your calls. Shouldn’t you?”

You don’t want to let Baekhyun off the hook for not telling you about Min, but you know it wouldn’t make a difference if you continued.

“I just don’t get why Beanie’s not picking up… What if something’s wrong?”

“She has a kid, she’s probably busy. And at this hour”, he says, looking at his watch “...she probably has her phone on mute. Come on now. I spent a lot of money on this, you don’t wanna ruin it for everyone, do you?”

Letting his words sink in, logic and guilt alike, you come to terms with the situation and realise that you really don’t want to ruin it for everyone, or yourself. You shake your head with a crooked smile.

“That’s my girl. No more pouting”, Baekhyun says, with a light poke on your nose.

Getting into bed you look through your phone one last time; check the call log and text messages, in case you’ve somehow clicked Beanie away, but there’s nothing there. Now, with not so little alcohol in your system you don’t worry about her being okay, but about your friendship. Had you done something wrong? Or rather, did she think you had; had she misunderstood something maybe? You try to put it out of your mind, but it sits like a little pebble in your gut, only given a break by Baekhyun.

“Thank god they’re gone..!”, he exclaims, dragging you on top of him.

“You talked the most, drank the most-”

“I was trying to scare them away”, he laughs between kisses. “Every fucking time you moved on the couch I imagined it was me under there… Now be a good girl and ride me, sweetie.”

¤¤

As you hadn’t been able to get a hold of Beanie the following couple of days you had made up your mind to go to her and Minnie’s home - one of these days. Deciding to do something and having the courage to do it can be two very different things, and it fell on divine intervention to push you forward.

Waiting for Baekhyun to pick you up from the mall you spot Minnie walking across the parking lot.

“Min..!”, you shout, zig-zagging your way through the parked cars.

He smiles when he spots you, but you detect a degree of discomfort in it.

“Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been to lunch with my mom, just waiting for Baekhyun to pick me up.”

“Lunch date with mom, that’s nice. I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”, he asks, as he starts for his car again.

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m good, just came back from out of town-”

“Yeah”, you interrupt. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about… Is Beanie alright? She didn’t come to my party and I can’t get a hold of her.”

“Yeah, she’s fine. You know how it is, busy with the baby and all… She probably just forgot.”

Even with his face turned away as he’s putting his bags in the trunk you can tell he’s not being honest. You’re not sure if you want to know why though. You study his face as he rounds the car to the driver’s door - he’s clearly uncomfortable, trying to force a normal demeanour, so you press him on it.

“But I don’t think she’d forget about it. Or not get in touch on her own - we talk almost every day, Min.”

“Shit...”, he says, fidgeting with the keys. “I asked her not to go, okay. To keep a little distance for a while.”

“From me? Why? I thought we were-”

“No, it’s…”

They way he’s frowning and struggling with his words you know why.

“Baekhyun asked me to”, he finishes, holding his hands up in defeat.

“What, no. You must’ve misunderstood, Min”, you say, not wanting to let on what you’re really thinking. “Why would he?”

“He didn’t say, he just… Aeh, you know what? Maybe I did misunderstand him. Talk to him when you see him, it’s probably nothing”, he says, getting into the car.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him you ruined my party over nothing”, you chuckle. “Tell Bean to answer next time, alright?”

“Will do. See you around?”

“See ya”, you say, waving him off.

You spend the few minutes you have left to wait wondering - fearing - why Baekhyun would ask such a thing of Minnie. Actually, you’re not wondering at all - you know why. But if that’s the case what does it mean? Why wouldn’t he sit down with you and have a conversation about it like an adult? Why would he essentially order Min to keep her away? He must know what it looks like… And what would Beanie think it looks like? What the hell are you gonna tell her when you see her again? “If you see her, you mean? I will see her.” You promise yourself you won’t let Baekhyun get away with this, that you’re gonna have a proper talk about it. But your resolve gets a nick as soon as you get in the car, for a moment pretending that it might just be a misunderstanding…

“How’s your mom?”

“You know, same old, same old.”

“Nothing new on the westfront..?”, he smiles at you and takes your hand.

“Not much. But I saw Min. Bumped into him, I mean. Just now.”

You can’t tell if you sound casual. When Baekhyun tightens his grip on your hand you definitely feel less than casual.

“Hm. Beanie?”

“No, it was just him. He-”

“So what’d he say?”, he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

This is your in, but you’re not as brave as you were five minutes ago. If you bring it up you can’t unsay it and everything that follows will be your doing; do you want to spend a wonderful evening with your man or do you want to walk around on glass shards?

“Beanie thinks you don’t like her…”

He spares you a quick glance with a furrowed brow.

“He said that?”

“Not exactly. He said, eh, I don’t wanna be a tattle tale...”

“What are you, ten years old?”, he scoffs. “We can talk about it when we get home”, he continues and lets go of your hand.

It’s sickening, the darkness that emanates from him. Even shifting in your seat to look out the window you feel like a bother to him. You don’t want to “talk about it”, you want to shout at him for trying to decide who your friends are, and for cutting you off. But you also wanna sweep it under the rug, beg his forgiveness with your saddest eyes and let him know he’s more important than anyone else.

¤¤

From the garage to the elevator to the hallway, every step feels like you're walking closer to springing a bear trap you set for yourself.

“You’re hovering...”, Baekhyun notes when you stand by the kitchen island, watching him scroll through his phone.

“Well, you said...we were gonna talk…”

“What’s there to talk about?”

You look at him, dumbfounded, until he puts away his phone and raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Minnie. Did you say anything to him about Beanie? I’m hoping it’s a misun-”

“That he should keep her away? Yeah.”

“Why would you do that? She’s my friend!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

“Baekhyun…”

You try to find the right words as your eyes start burning, but end up throwing your hands up in defeat.

“She’s my friend…”

“Sweetie”, he says, coming up to you, looking down at you. “I’ve known her longer than you, I think I know what’s best.”

“I can take care of myself. Make my own decisions.”

“Sure you can. But I’m the one who moved you from a tiny apartment to a skyrise flat, no?”, he chuckles.

You know he sometimes has a tendency to poke fun at you, but this was different. Going from letting you know it doesn’t matter what your paycheck says to making sure you know it does - the audacity doesn’t make you angry, it hurts you.

“Why do you have to put me down? Like in the car, when you called me ten..”

“What am I supposed to do with you when you act like this then?” Pausing, seemingly drawing pleasure from your expression he continues in a softer tone, putting his arms around you “I was only kidding, you’re too sensitive, sweetie.”

“I guess I am...”, you whisper, knowing you can’t make him listen anyway. “I’m gonna take Ga’ out.”

Giving Baekhyun the silent treatment doesn’t work. He sees through it, thinks it’s childish and wants no part of it. Besides, he’s better at it than you are; making some calls, working in his home office, reading the paper while seemingly not noticing your silent rebellion. After a while the TV and Gawa can’t keep your fearful thoughts away, the ones where he decides you’re no fun anymore. The clock is creeping closer to dinner time and that’ll be make or break as you see it - making up and eating together or eating alone and making a bad situation worse. You don’t want to give up even more of your pride, but his silence won’t stop any other way. “And besides, a relationship is about diplomacy. Sometimes you have to let the other person win.. It’s normal.”

You walk past his study and the kitchen to find him lying in bed with his phone. Quiet as a mouse you sit down on your end, suddenly scared it won’t work, that he’ll brush away your attempt at reconciliation like so many bread crumbs from the mattress. “Do I beg?” A part of you is disgusted with yourself because you know he’s waiting for you to crawl back. He doesn’t look at you when you turn around to face him, but oh, he’s waiting alright. Shuffling up next to him you cautiously lower yourself down, hoping he’ll let you in. When he moves his arm for you to lay down, putting it around you when you have, the release you feel is immeasurable. Winning or losing isn’t so important. Baekhyun is. He runs his hand over your hair, eyes still fixed on the phone, you stretch your arm out, tucking your fingers beneath his shirt to feel his warm torso. That other stuff may be important, but not right now.

¤¤

“Dear Diary in my head… Why didn’t I say anything? I’m not afraid of him, so why was I afraid to? I was lazy ‘cus I didn’t wanna go on with the fight. But I’m not a fucking school girl wanting a boy’s approval, so I should’ve insisted. Now it sounds pathetic, “I should’ve insisted I be allowed to see Beanie”, like he’s my dad - shit, that’s what Beanie said… I AM allowed to see her, goddamn it, and I will, I don’t care. He’s the one being unreasonable - as if I love every single one of his friends..! If that article is what he's mad about it doesn't even make sense, ‘cus he’s not like that. But what if he is...like that rumour she was talking about… Jesus CHRIST, I’d know if he was! Now I’m just winding myself up ‘cus I’m irritated, stop it. I know how he is; hot headed in the moment, but forgets about it quickly. I mean what, he’s gonna hate on his colleagues wife forever? Ah-ah, he’ll get over it. And I need to stop being such a pushover when we argue, that’s for damn sure…”

¤¤

“How many times have you seen her?”, Baekhyun asks coldly, holding up your phone.

You hadn’t, as you first thought, forgot to take it with you to the bedroom last night - he’d taken it before you woke up. There’s no room for you to come up with a lie, white or other. Actually, this time there’s not even room for your dread as you immediately get pissed off at him for taking it.

“I didn’t opt out of having a password for you to go through my phone”, you say sternly, going to retrieve it from him. When he moves you fix your eyes on him “Baekhyun..!”

“How many times?”

“A few times. She’s my friend, and I missed her. I know y-”

“A few times?”

There’s a glint in his eye that makes you unsettled so you make like you’re starting breakfast, with him following you.

“What do you talk about?”

“Nothing. This and that…”

“For example..?”

“I don’t keep a log, do I?”, you mumble sarcastically, more to yourself than him.

Before you have time to react he's grabbed your arm, making your head bounce against the wall.

"What did you just say?", he spits in your face, but seeing how you cower, eyes locked on his hand hanging in the air, he remembers himself. "So fucking dumb", he hisses, releasing his grip on you with a shove to the side.

Toppling over, trying to compose yourself you see him snatching his blazer from his seat before leaving.

In an instant Baekhyun has made you so small you feel that the chairs, table and island are all towering up around you where you sit on the floor. Your eyes are fixed on the door, terrified you’re going to see the lock turn open. You won’t hear it through the piercing sound in your ears. “He was gonna hit me…” Understanding he’s not coming back you stand up, bracing yourself against the wall. What now? You look around aimlessly, not even realising you’re clutching your arm, until you see your phone on the counter. Like a bolt the obvious answer hits you: “You can’t stay.” Hurrying to the closet you grab one of Baekhyun’s overnight bags - he won’t miss it - and open the drawers, grabbing a handful of everything and stuffing them in it; tearing clothes off their racks, making the hangers fall to the floor with a clank and sweep toiletries in with one movement. Lacing up your shoes your heart threatens to break your chest in half. You repeatedly call Gawa, then remember your mom’s had him a few nights.

“Where’s my...” You look around for your jacket in a fever, unable to focus.

“Did he take my jacket? My keys...no...”, you think even though you’re certain you never saw him with it.

“Ah!”

Running to your room you breathe a sigh of relief when you see it hanging on a chair; putting it on you check your pockets to see everything’s there and *qo...*. You freeze. Was that the bolt sliding? Not hearing any other sounds you slide your phone open, ready to call whomever, leaving sweat marks over the screen, and inch your way out to the dining room.

“Baekhyun..?”

Your bag is right there. If he’s somehow managed to come in without you hearing it, he’s seen it, and with the open floor plan the only doors in the apartment are on the bathroom, office and walk-in closet - all situated round the entrance. You can’t lock yourself in. Your gut churns as you expect him to round the corner with his head to the side - the way it always is when he disapproves of something. Feeling like he’s toying with you, you give way to despondency, wiping your tears before you keep walking and turn the corner. But he’s not there. The door is locked. You sink down on wobbly legs, catching your breath. Grabbing your bag you hear that sound again, and realise it was just a glass bottle in the bag settling, knocking against another one.

“Fuck! Jesus Christ…”

Sitting down you start thinking about where to go. In the back of your head you’d assumed your mom’s place, but now you see there are only two ways that could go: you don’t tell her why, so she’ll invite Baekhyun in when he comes looking or you do tell her and she’ll insist you report him to the police. But what’s there to report? “He DIDN’T hit me. He grabbed your arm! Yeah, he grabbed my arm in a fight when he found out I’d been lying to him… They won’t do anything…”

“Why did I lie to him..! None of this would've happened if I’d been honest, just told him the first time I saw her. And if I hadn’t acted like that when he asked… Of course he'd be angry, anyone would. Being angry is one thing, punching someone is different. But he didn't… I mean, haven't I been so annoyed I've wanted to hit him? It's not the same thing! Why not? Because he happens to be stronger than me? It's still violence...You KNOW why it isn't… If he HAD, sure, I'd never let him near me again, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t.”

Going back and forth with yourself in your head was just a formality and a way to convince yourself you're the type of person that 1: won't tolerate being treated like shit, and 2: would give someone a second chance. “Everyone deserves a second chance. At least a chance to explain themselves.”

Putting your things back you make sure they are exactly as they had been, while ignoring the voice that asks why you’re worried he might be able to tell a difference. Now there’s nothing left to do but somehow pass the excruciatingly long hours until he gets off work...

¤¤

Not hearing from Baekhyun all day had you go from thinking he’d been wrong to fearing he’d still think you were.

If you can forgive him then surely he can forgive you, right? If he’s still angry, you’ll make an effort; if he doesn't say anything about it, neither will you. You’ll go on as usual, have a visit with your mom, be fine.

Standing in front of the mirror in your closet, trying to figure out what top to wear has a different feeling to it today; you're trying to cover up your arm. There isn't any bruising on it as far as you can tell, but you never know… When the lock turns your pulse goes up. You’ve been anxiety ridden all day, as well as longing for him to come home, so you can really put this thing past you and go back to normal.

He peeks in through the door with a gentle smile and presents a bouquet - yellow peonies.

"I think roses are the official flower of apology, but I know how you love these."

“He’s not mad, thank God, he’s not mad…”

"I don't know what came over me”, he starts, coming up to you. “It must be all the stress at work, with the buy-out and I… I would never hurt you! When I saw that look in your eyes I couldn’t believe what I was doing-”

“Why didn’t you call me all day?”, you ask, teary-eyed with relief.

“I wanted to, sweetie, but I...every time I picked up the phone I saw that look and I didn’t know what to say… I’ll never hurt you again, I swear.”

“You real...really scared me”, you manage to say through choppy breaths.

“I know. I’ll do whatever you want, give you anything you want”, he says, hugging you tightly “...just forgive me.”

You don’t take pleasure in seeing him distraught, but note that suddenly the roles are reversed - he’s the one pleading, and you have the power to lift him up.

“You have to promise me, Baekhyun.”

“I promise, sweetie. I promise..!”

He tips your head up by the chin:

“You believe me, right?"

With such sincerity in his eyes and tremble in his voice, how could you not?

“Good”, he says when you nod, giving you your long awaited kiss. “I’m so sorry…”

“Let’s...”, you exhale deeply, turning to the mirror again.“Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Sure. What are you up to?”

“I'm just deciding what to wear. We have to be at my mum's in forty-five minutes, so if you're gonna shower before we go…”

Coming up to stand behind you in the mirror, the way he puts his hands on your shoulders makes you wince, if ever so slightly. But he doesn't notice.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for us to go over there today? I think we could really need this time for ourselves. Don't you agree?"

"But I've already told her we're coming over…"

"I know, but with everything that's been going on… Tell you what...You go put these in water and I'll give her a call, tell her I've got a migraine."

"I have to get Gawa, she's had him four days already", you say, happy to have found a good reason for going over.

"She won't mind will she?", he asks, spinning you around to look you in the eyes. "Aren't I as important as him? I've really missed you today, sweetie."

You don't want to upset him again, and you've really missed him too. So you give in.

Curled up on the sofa with your head on Baekhyun's chest, his fingers are playing with your hair.

"Sweetie? Have you thought about maybe letting your mum have Gawa?"

"Have him? Past tomorrow?"

"Keep him. For good, I mean."

"What? No, why?"

"Don't get upset", he says soothing you. "I don't mean he can't come over from time to time."

A sickening feeling creeps into your heart, but not wanting to risk another fight so soon you hold your tongue. Nonchalantly flipping through the channels on the TV he adds:

"We don't have to decide anything now. It's just...something to think about."

¤¤

Drying your hands after finishing up the dishes at your mom's you hear Baekhyun from the living room:

"... to have him full time."

Your stomach's in knots as you join them. Baekhyun smiles and grabs your hand.

"I was just telling your mom how we think she should keep Gawa - if you want to, of course", he adds thoughtfully, looking at your mom.

"But he's your everything, honey", your mom, correctly, points out. "Why would you ev-"

She cuts herself off with eyes growing wide.

"Are you pregnant..!? Oh, oh..!", she blurts out before you can stop her.

"No!"

Baekhyun bursts out laughing, pulling you to sit on his lap.

"Not yet, mother. But who knows, might not be too long before you hear the tapping of little feet around here…", he jokes.

At least you hope he is. Not feeling entirely comfortable with the turn the conversation has taken, you get up, calling Gawa to you.

"Well, I guess we should be going, mom. Come on, Baekhyun, Ga'."

There's a flicker in Baekhyun's eyes, but you know he won't make a scene in front of your mom.

"We'll give you some time to think about it", he says, hugging her goodbye.

You can feel the cold emanating from him like dry ice in the elevator.

"I'll drop you off at home before I head into the office", he says, clearing his throat.

"It's Saturday, you're off."

"I might as well get some work done if you don't want to be with me. If you choose that animal over me."

¤¤

Forty-eight hours ago you had been looking forward to the weekend; visiting your mom with your handsome, successful boyfriend and winding down with the love of your life - Gawa. But nothing had gone the way you had imagined. Even after the incident it was as if Baekhyun hadn't let go of your arm, keeping you under his eye and forcing you to prove your loyalty to him. But then again, you had just been through something big, however short it was. It was only natural he'd want a little more attention from you than normal, right? He probably didn't mean for you to give Gawa up for good, it was just bad wording. He loved seeing you happy, why else would he buy you flowers and jewellery, insist that you cut back your hours at work to be home more, call you every other hour to say hi?

Thinking about it in those terms made it simple - if not easy - for you to do what he wanted. Because he was what you wanted, wasn't he? So, not having told him you were returning Gawa to your mom the same day you were waiting for him to come back home. What had started as excitement about pleasing him had, as the hours passed, turned into a tremendously guilty conscience and now, lying in bed as he approaches, you can't even pretend to be happy.

"Why is it so dark in here?", he asks, throwing his blazer on the bed. "Where's Ga'? Gawa..!", he calls.

"He's not here", you answer him, your back still turned against him. "He's with mom…"

"Oh, sweetie", he sighs, laying down behind you, giving you a kiss on the neck. "I didn't mean for you to take him back today. Turn around, let me see that pretty face. That's better", he says, brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"My red eyes and runny nose is better?", you pout, partly fishing for a compliment.

"Mm-hm. Of course I don't like to see you sad, but I really appreciate what you've done. It shows that you respect me. That you really care about me."

Little by little his words push away your melancholy. The way he's looking at you now, with his gentle brown eyes and sweet smile, prickles your skin. This is the reaction you had wanted from him.

"And besides…", he continues, slipping his hand under your t-shirt "I've been thinking about what your mother said… About a baby."

"No. Baekhyun, that's insane. That’s…"

"Why? Too soon? Who decides that? Look...", he says, nudging your t-shirt up to show your stomach "...can't you imagine a little Baekhyun growing in here? Or my daughter? Walking in the park with the stroller, showing the baby to everyone at work… I’d show you off to everyone the minute I found out."

“Aeh..”, you swat your hand as he gets up, but when he’s out of the room you scrunch your face with delight at the thought of it. Somehow you can see it. But in your stomach isn't just the butterflies of an imagined little life - it’s the whispered knowledge that you've left the right love behind.

#baekhyun #baekhyun angst #baekhyun scenario

36 notes · View notes

kiwiana-writes · 4 years

Note

What are some of YOUR fav fics for david and patrick?

Oh my gosh, anon. I got this after I was already in bed and had to wait until I was in front of my computer to answer because... well. I have ~150 David/Patrick fics bookmarked and those are only the ones I reread a lot, lmao.

So! I haven’t recced an author more than once (take it as read that you should read everything by all these people lol), and I’ve tried not to rec the super super popular fics (you don’t need me to tell you to read A Fair Return). So with that in mind, in no particular order and with full acknowledgement that I will probably miss a whole heap of equally amazing ones:

0-4999 words:

Railed and Derailed by @kiranerys42 [rated E, 1177 words] Look, I love me some smut. But I also love me some coitus interruptus, especially when it comes in the form of an overly pedantic lecture.

And we lay nocturnal, speculate what we feel by EggplantSalad [rated E, 4202 words] And of course, the fic that inspired the above. AKA, how it goes down when you DON’T interrupt the hot sex you’re having for a lecture. This one is pure unadulterated filth, in the best possible way.

ready to hold on (willing to fall) by @whetherwoman [rated E, 1208 words] Am I perhaps a little too invested in fics that talk about David’s physical strength? Maybe. Will I apologise for this? No.

It’s Harder, When You’re Older, to Begin by MoreHuman [rated T, 2568 words] I will never, ever, if I read a million billion words of it, tire of authors exploring Patrick’s feelings around his sexuality. But these are my favourite words of a favourite theme. (Also, more Patrick & Stevie friendship fics, please and thank you.)

Beard Oil by @thedidipickles [rated E, 3478 words] It’s porn. It’s utter, glorious porn, and I adore it.

5000-9999 words:

got a bad desire by @rockinhamburger [rated E, 7821 words] Pretty sure I’ve recommended this one before, actually, but I stand by it. Hot sex! Communication! Sex bloopers! Everything I could ever want!

All I Want For Christmas Is You by @houdini74 [rated E, 7340 words] The concept and the execution of this fic are both delightful. It’s juuuuuuuust angsty enough without it being too painful to read as Christmas fluff -- my favourite kind.

One Single Thread of Gold by @theswiftiewholived [rated G, 8244 words] This was one of the standouts of Sports Fest, in my opinion, and it’s the author’s first Schitt’s Creek story! Such a cute twist on canon, I was sucked in by every word.

10000-24999 words:

Husbands: Two Years In by @unfolded73 [rated E, 24461 words] I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so seen by a piece of fanfiction as I was by this one. This fic deals with depression in a nuanced, compassionate, and incredibly realistic way and though it was only published last month, I’m pretty confident I’ll be rereading it a lot. ❤️

I don’t gamble but if I did I’d bet on us by @ships-to-sail [rated T, 23513 words] Meet cute? Check. AU that weaves canon in beautifully? Check. All the teasing and banter we’ve come to expect from these two? Check check. This fic has so much heart and is a fantastic pick-me-up whenever I’m feeling down.

25000-49999 words:

make it to me by @rosesdavid [rated T, 25452 words] AKA, The Epistolary Zombie Fic. I recommend this everywhere and for good reason. Epistolary is SO HARD to pull off in a way that makes you actually give a crap about the characters but this is just... 25,000 words of David and Patrick meeting and falling in love over text, and what’s not to love about that? I read this as a WIP and was super invested, but now that it’s finished everyone I recommend it to gets a less stressful experience than I did. (PS: @rosesdavid?? I’m still here begging for a sequel 😂)

Nothing good gets away by @julywonder [rated T, 34290 words] Another one that I read in real time even though it made me ache in the best way. The author has tagged this “David’s emotional growth” and that is basically my favourite thing on the planet, I will devour all the words related to that. It was particularly easy to devour these words, though, because both the story and the storytelling are stunning.

50000+ words:

Push and Pull by @samwhambam [rated E, 63570 words] I am a simple woman. You say enemies to lovers, I say gimme. You say samwhambam, I also say gimme. This is a good combination.

I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You by @ladyflowdi and @ships-to-sail [rated E, 180475 words] Okay, I said I wasn’t going to rec the super popular ones, but this gets an exception because I genuinely think it might have changed me as a person. This is one of those stories that is written so well it kind of makes you never want to write again. There are lines from this fic that I could tattoo on my soul. I genuinely don’t have the words to describe what this meant to me (trust me, I tried to tell the authors and just ended up capslock flailing and sobbing).

WIP:

I’d Swing with You for the Fences by @danverses [rated E, 5/13 chapters published, 37487 words so far] Y’all. Y’ALL. If you’re not reading along with this RUN, DON’T WALK. It features the cutest of meet-cutes and the most delightful story!!!

#sc fic rec #anonymous

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sleepyfoxfanworks · 3 years

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Got tagged by a bunch of people for this. Sorry it took so long!

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

20. It had been a pipe dream, anyway. She knows that. They’re at war, have been for years, and there is no time for anything so sentimental. -- The End of Everything, Naruto, a sort of prologue to a multi-chapter fic, to be published for KakaSaku Month.

19. Sakura was desperate. After two weeks of couch surfing at Sasuke and Naruto’s apartment, she had had enough. She loved her boys, but Naruto was terrible about personal space and Sasuke was just...Sasuke, and together they were a disaster and she was going to wring their necks. -- Shut Up and Dance, Naruto, ShiSaku modern AU multi-chapter to be published for ShiSaku weekend.

18. Sakura went into labor at an ungodly hour, her hands holding Kakashi’s in a death grip that made his bones crack. -- Beautiful With You, Naruto, KakaSaku oneshot in the Here’s To Us series, 400 follower giveaway prize.

17. The summons came right as Shisui sat down to eat dinner. He looked longingly at his plate and sighed, shoveling as much as he could in his mouth before the phone blinked angrily at him again. The screen lit for just a moment, but it was long enough for him to see a message from Hokage Tower with a crow emoji. ANBU then. -- And So We Burn, Naruto, KakaSakuShi multi-chapter in the Souls On Fire series.

16. “I’m gonna catch you, Uchiha Shisui!”

Shisui paused on a tree branch and crouched down to look at the fuming academy student who glared up at him from the ground below. Her long pink hair was tangled with tiny sticks and leaves, and she had dirt smudges on her clothes and skin from her mad run through the training ground, but the fire in her jade green eyes was brighter than the sun. -- Catch Me If You Can, Naruto, ShiSaku one-shot for ShiSaku Day 2021.

15. The universe was determined to hate her. First, the Fourth Shinobi War, a homicidal goddess, reincarnated kages, and now… Now she couldn’t go home because it was gone. Crushed to rubble during the battle, her parents inside.

She stared at the wreckage, gaze focused on nothing and everything at once. She could see what had been, overlapping how it was now. The small family home with the cheerful blue shutters and the neat garden was now a pile of rubble. Some of the bricks were stained with blood, and she knew that it was probably from her parents but she couldn’t conceptualize it without breaking down. -- All That I Am Living For, Naruto, Team 7 gen fic with some NaruSaku oneshot in the Here’s To Us series.

14. The first time Haruno Sakura took his breath away was the day he made the mistake of letting her hit him during a friendly spar. -- Leave Me Breathless, Naruto, ShiSaku oneshot.

13. Haruno Sakura was grateful for coffee. And for clear skies and uneventful days and genin teams finally learning how not to fall out of trees. Right now though, she was most thankful for coffee. -- Familiar Taste of Poison, Naruto, KakaSaku multi-chapter in the Here’s To Us series.

12. “I want you to teach me the oiroke no jutsu.”

Wide blue eyes stared at her incredulously as Sakura threw back another shot of tequila and slammed the cup on the bar. When he stared at her open mouthed for too long, she leaned against the bar and poked his cheek. “I’m serious, Naruto. Teach me.”

Naruto blinked at her and then huffed a laugh. “Seriously?”

Her grin was lazy and just a bit tipsy, but she wasn’t drunk. Neither was he, and she was one hundred percent serious. “Seriously.” -- Bringing Sexy Back, Naruto, Team 7 gen fic in the Here’s To Us series.

11. “Sakura-chan, you’re a girl.”

Sakura turned her head and regarded Naruto with apprehension. He had matured over the years, but sometimes… Sometimes she wondered if he had actually grown up at all. -- Questions Redux, Naruto, KakaSaku oneshot.

10. Sakura tugged the blanket tighter over her shivering body, adjusting it further when she pulled her knees up to her chest in an attempt to trap even more body heat. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it offered warmth and that was her main concern. Not that it would help much. She was always cold at night and no matter what position she contorted her body into, or how tightly she pulled the blankets over her, she always awoke shivering and sore. -- Space Heater, Naruto, Team 7 gen oneshot.

9. “Can I put them in now?”

“Is the water boiling yet?”

“No…”

“Then not yet.” Sakura didn’t bother turning around as she finished chopping carrots for the salad brushing them into the bowl with a kunai. “Can you hand me the dressing?” -- How About Now, Naruto, KakaSaku oneshot.

8. Kakashi had always been an enigma. It was difficult to tell what the jounin was thinking, although if you got an answer out of him you knew it was the truth, because he never lied. His approach to questions was not to tell you the exact answer to your question. Rather, he would say something equally true and related enough to change the subject or provide an answer, just not quite the one you were looking for. -- Knowing You, Naruto, KakaSaku oneshot.

7. Naruto was thrilled when one of his best friends announced that her unborn child was craving ramen. Sakura had only mentioned it because she knew that if she didn’t and he found out that she had visited Ichiraku without him she would never hear the end of it, and she hadn’t spent time with him in several weeks because of their increasingly busy schedules. She missed him. Not that she would tell him that because he might crow it from the rooftops. -- The Making of a Legend, Naruto, Team 7 gen oneshot.

6. It was a very strange occurrence for Echizen Ryouma to be the first of the regulars to reach the locker room in the morning. Ryouma valued his sleep over most anything (save tennis, Ponta and Karupin), and getting him out of bed was a job in itself, but somehow he had managed. His mannerisms hadn’t changed much over the past three years, and he would still sleep in if it weren’t for a particular incentive that got him up earlier in the morning. -- Pre-game, Prince of Tennis, RyoFuji oneshot.

5. Haruno Sakura arched her back, smiling when she heard several pops from her spine. The boat ride home was relaxing with the gentle rocking on the waves, but the wooden plank she sat on was killing her back and hips. The mission had been long, but she couldn’t say she hadn’t enjoyed it. It had been years since Team Seven had all been together again. Now, all jounin – with Sasuke, Naruto and Kakashi occasionally working as Anbu – it became increasingly rare for them all to be paired together for a mission. -- Questions, Naruto, KakaSaku oneshot.

4. You had promised to live a mortal life and now, with your hair gray and brittle and your skin paper thin, you are dying. You led a healthy, peaceful life with your beloved and the other vampires in the mansion, working for most of it as a gardener and occasional errand runner, but it has been more than sixty years and you are tired. -- One Good Turn, Ikemen Vampire, oneshot.

3. Aella should have known Sebastian was up to something when he sent her to wake Napoleon Bonaparte. The tiny uptick of his lips, the gleam in his eyes, and the glances from the others when they saw her taking the stairs was enough of a clue. No one said a word, but she felt their eyes on her as she walked past. Intrigued, she didn’t say a word until she reached the ex-emperor’s door, knocking smartly and calling his name out of politeness. Sebastian had warned her that it was difficult to wake him, but she didn’t want to be rude. As she had been told, there was no reply, and so after a murmured “excuse me” she let herself in. -- Wake Up Service, Ikemen Vampire, Napoleon/OC, oneshot.

2. I’m nervous to start this interview. I’ve been a fan of Given since their first show, and now, 4 years later, they’re bigger than ever. Given had an explosive beginning, and their popularity has grown over the years to become one of the most popular bands in Japan. I’m honored to be interviewing them, both as a lover of music and also as a fan. -- Given Today, Given, RitsuMafu and KajiHaru oneshot.

1. It had only taken a few days for Captain Hook, dashing rapscallion that he was, to get sick of sleeping in a room at Granny's and begin searching for a ship. The stillness of a bed on dry land was strange, leading to many sleepless nights full of tossing and turning before he gave up and went hunting for a sea-faring vessel that would suit his needs. Unfortunately, Storybrooke was not the best place to look for such things. Boats were scarce, and none of them were up to his usual standards. -- Captain’s Log, Once Upon a Time, CaptainSwan oneshot collection.

In conclusion... I have no idea, omg.

Tagging whoever wants to do this. 💜💜

#tag you're it #sleepy fox talks #sleepy fox writes

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years

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Stranger (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Fluff, College!AU

Summary: While at a party you were forced to attend, you meet a mysterious stranger having fun by himself in the corner.

Inspo: A Tiktok by Designer_eyebags that has suddenly disappeared, it was too cute for me not to write honestly.

Word count: 2,476

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: When I tell you I'm a sucker for casual Todo esp Todo in a beanie?? Ded

College!AU for Todoroki finally! It was honestly about time! Though, I feel like I could’ve done better with it, I wasn’t really sure where I wanted to take it so I just let it take me I guess? But I think it's still pretty cute, so that's gotta count for something, right?

I've got another Baku scenario planned, and then a Midoriya one right after that (or I might reverse the order since I have the beginning of the Midoriya one written already). Also thanks again for 300 followers! Yall might be getting a surprise at 400, depends on when I finish these next few scenarios.

Buy me a coffee?

I don't want to be here at this party, but Ochaco told me I need to loosen up. And she's tired of me whining about how single I am. "Then do something about it!" she exclaimed, "Get out there and find someone! You won't meet anyone if you stay in the same rut!" She's lucky, she already has a boyfriend. At first glance, he's a complete pushover, but he seems to be a social person. At least, social enough to have friends who host dorm parties, apparently. So here I am, in a stranger's dorm with colored lights and obnoxiously loud music.

The funniest thing about this entire party, though, is this random person I've been watching. The music in the room is bumping to some EDM tracks, but this guy's having a blast in the corner of the room. He's off in his own world, headphones on, swaying and mouthing the lyrics to whatever's playing, which might be more melodious judging by how much slower his head nods are.

Honestly, relatable.

I would've thought he was just drunk or on some really good drugs, but his movements are structured enough to show he still has coordination. I'll admit, the way he's dancing around like no one's watching is pretty endearing. He seems like a pretty fun guy to be around, I should go talk to him. Ochaco abandoned me for her boyfriend, and this is my way of finding someone else, I guess.

I approach him slowly. It would be a stupid idea to tap on his shoulder and interrupt him, I don't really want to break his flow. I settle for standing by quietly, close enough for him to notice I'm staring right at him, but far enough so I don't break up his single-man party.

It takes him a while to notice me. The music bleeding from his white headphones even in this loud environment tells me he's really trying to drown everyone else out. His eyes are closed as his had bobs around, silently mouthing the lyrics to a familiar Top 40's song I've heard on the radio. His casual outfit consists of black jeans, a half-white-half-black hoodie over a black T-shirt, gray Converse, and a matching beanie. His hair on the side facing me is scarlet red, but from his movements, I can see the other side is snow white.

My lips quirk into a small smile as I continue to watch him entertain himself. I probably look like a creep, just watching some other weirdo doing their thing in the corner. I can't help it, he looks absolutely adorable, not to mention just a smidge familiar.

His eyes open for a brief moment just so he can blink and he double takes at me, freezing up and jolting backward. He slides the headphones down around his neck and looks around before scratching his head. "Hi... " he offers a slight wave. "Was I bothering you?"

Now that he fully faces me, I notice he has two different colored eyes, and his features are sharply handsome, contrasting the staple casual soft-boy aesthetic of his outfit and his awkward speech. "Not at all," I shrug, collecting my thoughts, "You seem like you're having the time of your life, so I thought I'd join you."

A slight blush coats his cheeks as he buries his hands in his jeans pockets. "I apologize. Perhaps what I was doing was distracting and inappropriate."

He's so prim and proper, it's adorable. "No worries, no one was staring other than me," I assure him, leaning against the wall. "So, why are you jamming all alone over here instead of being with your friends?"

"Ah, my roommate is spending time with his girlfriend right now, I don't really want to pry into their business." He scratches the back of his neck nervously.

I sigh. "Yeah, same here. Your roommate wouldn't happen to be a Midoriya, would it?"

He blinks. "As a matter of fact, he is."

"Wow, small world." That really is a coincidence. Can't say I was expecting to meet the roommate of my best friend's boyfriend, let alone find him alluring in some way.

The boy is silent for a moment. "Honestly, I'm sleepy, but I lost the key to my room, so I have to wait for Midoriya. I don't even have my wallet, unfortunately." He fingers one side of the headphones. "This is the only way to keep myself awake and occupied until he's ready to leave."

"I'd say you have guts to be listening to your own music at a party. You must have a pretty great playlist."

He tilts his head to the side. "I'm just not fond of this sort of music, it nauseates me."

"I feel that. This, in general," I motion to all the happenings around us, "Isn't really my scene. I'd rather be in my dorm alone."

He nods in agreement. "Me too. If it wasn't for me losing my dorm key, I would have already gone back."

Now that I've called attention to it, we really have drowned out the world around us, as if there was a bubble and I just popped it to return us to the present. There's this magnetism between us to keep to ourselves, despite the awkwardness of this being our first encounter.

I kick off from the wall and face him. "If you wanna hurry out of here, we can go somewhere else to talk. Or if you wanna go eat, I can pay for you, it's no big deal."

For the first time in our conversation, he turned to look at me head-on. "Really?" he cocks an eyebrow, "We've only just met, do trust me that much?"

I offer an amiable smile. "You seem like someone I'd like to get to know."

We walk into the darkness of campus at night, talking about nothing in particular. Whatever random question that popped into my mind was whatever I asked him. He's a quiet one, very hesitant about opening up and answering my questions more than what I've asked. I guess I like how mysteriously awkward he is, it's cute. Normally, I'm not one to talk either, but when it comes to someone who's even less of a talker than me, I take the lead just to make them comfortable.

His name is Shouto Todoroki, he's in the same year as me, a business major because his father wants him to take over the family company. He's the youngest of his siblings, his parents are separated, and he's a cat person.

Finally reaching a diner just a block off campus, I instinctively stroll up to the counter. At first he stands behind me, unsure what to do as he stares at the seat next to me. I eye him with another smile. "I guess you've never sat at the counter before?" At the shake of his head, I pat the stool to my right. "Come on up, it's not that different from sitting in a booth."

Slowly, he hoists himself up onto the seat and rotates over to face me. "Do you come here often?"

"Sort of, I'm alone most of the time. I don't usually come this late though. After my classes, I would come here because I love their burgers. I like sitting here to just do some homework."

The waitress gives us the menu and takes our drink orders. The diner is empty this time of night, save for a group of probably drunk students from our college and a truck driver at the other end of the counter across the room.

"What do you feel like eating?" I ask.

Todoroki's staring at the menu in great thought, holding his chin with one hand. "Maybe a sandwich. Or a pasta dish, I'm not sure yet."

"I think..." I scan over the menu. I'm not that hungry per se, I just wanted to get out of that party with this adorable stranger. "I'm gonna have a bowl of soup. It'll warm me up after being in the cold outside." I rub my cold hands together and tuck them inside the sleeves of my sweater.

The boy glances down at my hands before his cheeks blush slightly. He tries to hide it by rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you like me to...hold them for you? I've been told I have pretty warm hands..."

It's my turn to blush now. "Sure, thanks."

He stretches out his left hand onto the table, tentatively covering my clasped hands. Surprisingly, I find his hand is large, able to surround both of mine entirely. And they're pretty muscular, I'd say. "Your hands are pretty warm," I comment, almost dumbly.

He nods wordlessly in response.

Our shoulders almost brush because of how close I'm leaning to him. I'm close enough to smell his fresh scent coming off his jacket.

The waitress returns with our drinks and startles us into ripping our hands away from each other, bumping shoulders in the process. She takes our orders on her pad before smiling at us. "Aw, you two look so cute together," she coos and walks away before we can correct her.

Suddenly I don't know what I should say now.

"What made you come here one day?" Todoroki asks, his cheeks brushed pink. I appreciate his attempt at making things less awkward.

"I like having comfort food, I guess." I stir the straw in my water. "I get easily overwhelmed and homesick, so I like eating my feelings in a way."

His hands cup his warm mug of tea. "I can't say I agree with that. I wanted to get away from home. It was suffocating there."

"That must be difficult." Out of reflex, I raise my hand to pat his shoulder, stopping myself right before I can touch him. "I'm sorry-"

"I don't mind it," he blurts out quickly. "But only if you're comfortable."

I chuckle at his eagerness and rest my hand there. "We've become somewhat awkward again, huh?"

"Should I ask some questions, then? Since you were doing that earlier."

"Sure, go ahead."

Todoroki's questions were difficult to get out. He didn't ask as many as me since he thought very carefully before asking them. They weren't typical small talk questions you would ask someone you just met; they were thought-provoking, which I admit is something I appreciate way more. His last question was to discuss what would be the most important items to have you were stranded on a space mission with a group of people.

"Why wouldn't you want a flare gun? It could help the home base locate you from the light."

"Yes, normally, but it wouldn't work the same in anti-gravity space," Todoroki explains monotonously. "Though, the force of the shot would at least allow you to propel you in a certain direction if you're floating around aimlessly."

"You have a point. But we agree that rope, oxygen tank, and water are definitely essential for survival."

The waitress sets our food in front of us. Todoroki ended up getting a vegetarian panini just because he didn't really want any meat tonight.

"Will you be satisfied with just that soup?" he eyes my bowl carefully.

I start ripping at the toasted bread on the side and dip one into my tomato soup. "Yeah, I'm not terribly hungry, and I haven't had this soup in a long time."

We eat in a somewhat comfortable silence. I feel like we've gotten to know each other pretty well, but there's still the awkwardness surrounding us. Nothing really told me why he was so familiar to me at the party either. I don't really remember him at any of the previous outings I was forced to attend.

Todoroki puts down his mostly eaten sandwich. "I must...confess something. I-"

"Are you a creepy stalker?" I casually joke, dipping my spoon into the soup.

His face turns blank and the life drains from his eyes. "N-No! Not at-!"

I shove him lightly. "I'm just joking! You look like you've seen a ghost. What is it?"

Color returns to his face as he looks down at his unfinished burger and fries. "I've...been to a couple parties with Midoriya before, and I admit I've seen you already. To say you never caught my attention is a lie. Actually, I...hoped to see you every time he offered me to join him."

I'm frozen in place, my cheeks heating up at the implication. "Does that mean you've taken an interest in me?"

He inhales carefully. "Yes, I have."

"So...you'd like to see me outside of parties then?"

"Yes." He rubs his hands together. "We could even come back here, if you'd like."

"I wouldn't mind that." I avert my eyes away from him, ashamed to be shy like this. "But next time, you're trying a burger here."

His chuckle reminds me of the tinkle of wind chimes, except deeper. "It's a date."

I can't stop myself from smiling, my heart skipping a beat at the word. Wow, I actually found someone decent at a stupid college party.

We finish the rest of our meal in silence again, and I paid as I promised. It felt like we were holding back a secret from everyone else in the diner. We just started dating in the middle of our first meal together, how cute is that?

We leave and start heading back to the dorms, keeping a distance between us. Neither of us really know what to say after a sudden change in relationship status like that.

Todoroki coughs awkwardly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to warm your hands up again. Only if you're okay with it."

That's such a cute way of asking to hold hands, I gush inwardly. I close the distance between us, allowing him to gently grip one of my hands in his. He tucks our joined hands inside his hoodie pocket, pulling me closer to him. It feels like I'm walking on clouds.

He walks me to the front of my building. He'd gotten a text from Midoriya that he's back at their room and will open the door for him when he returns. "Thank you for the meal." His eyes express his gratitude clearly as he stands in front of me. "It was more enjoyable with your company."

"Don't mention it. It was great having someone to talk to." I realize I've unnaturally used my left hand to brush my hair behind my ear because my right hand is still in his pocket. Standing so close to him makes me nervous.

Todoroki lifts our joined hands to place a feather-light kiss on my knuckles. "I look forward to next time," his low voice resonates smooth as butter, eyes boring into mine.

I can't meet them for very long after, breaking eye contact with him sheepishly. "M-Me too."

#todoroki x reader #todoroki fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #college!AU #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #gender neutral reader #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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profnodanna · 4 years

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A mikorei scenario for the people who wanted to cry (it’s not so bad, I swear)

{♔}

Post ROK. In the exact moment the Slate is destroyed, Mikoto’s eyes snap open. He has just woken up in what seems a hospital room, but besides that there’s nothing in that place vaguely familiar. A young woman, with short dark hair and a cheerful smile, welcomes him, briefly explaining him that he is in one of the Gold clan’s facilities, that he had been in a coma for all this time, and that she and her team have been taking care of him for a while.

Lately, he meets the chief researcher, someone who was working with the Gold Clan since before the day of the Kagutsu incident, aiming to avoid any Damocles Down. Thanks to their studies they managed to save Mikoto’s life and treat his injuries; however, his connection with the Slate somehow prevented him from waking up.

The reasercher proceeds to explain what happened while he was in a coma: how Anna became the new Red King, what happened to Homra, the death of the Gold King and the following arising of the Green Clan, how the Slate was destroyed and why. And, more in important, that everyone believes that Mikoto died. The reasercher concludes that their job with him is done, and that now Mikoto can do whatever he wants.

For a while, Mikoto chooses to do nothing; he is too debilitated, both physically and mentally, to even think to “go back”.

He has to face Totsuka's death and the consequences of his actions, and at the top of it, he doesn't know if he wants to go back to that society who caged him. He knows, no matter how much his people love him, that he will never fit.

Meanwhile Munakata is struggling with his new condition of “normal man” (assuming that the Kings, differently from their clansmen and Strains, lost almost completely their powers with the destruction of the Slate); as time passes, he can’t help but notice all his limits as a common person, all the things he can’t do anymore: his powers didn’t help him only during his fights, but also intellectually and mentally. He gets tired more easily, unfocused more easily; he simply can’t do anymore all what he used to do and how he used to. Which it kinda leads him to constantly overwork himself just to prove (to himself) that he can still pursue his path. That he is still has some unresolved feelings about what happened in the last two years, feelings and thoughts that he is not willing to openly express to anyone, doesn’t help either.

Months pass in the new era without the Slate, months in which everyone is adjusting to the new reality, without anything important happening. Until one day, Mikoto shows up before Munakata family’s house.

It’s a Sunday afternoon, and he knows (thanks to the information provided by the researcher who saved him) that Munakata Reisi is there, paying a visit to his family.

Of course Munakata Reisi is shocked when Mikoto walks in his house. So shocked that at first he doesn't even know how to feel. He even forgets to punch Suoh. Instead, keeping his natural decorum, he simply listens to Mikoto's explanation about what happened, how he survived, why he didn’t come back earlier and why “now and here”. On the other hand, not so surprisingly Mikoto doesn’t seem to be able to give a proper answer to all the questions Munakata has. In his mind, to show up there and basically say “look, I’m alive” should have been enough. He was obviously mistaken.

They talk a bit, and in Mikoto’s words is implied he believes to owe Munakata at least the knowledge to not have actually killed him.

He then apologies for what happened, this time directly to Munakata, but without regretting his past choices (if anything it almost seems he regrets to have survived). Munakata is not surprised about that, to which he responds with a sad half smile. He asks what Mikoto is going to do. Their talk ends here, due to Taishi’s interruption to invite Mikoto to stay over for dinner.

Next step for Mikoto is going back to Homra (other sad story), which probably is a little harder than facing Munakata to him.

Of course the reunion is very emotional (just think about Homra’s surprise, Anna’s happiness and Kusanagi’s shock. How the latter can’t even believe about who’s before his eyes. Think about how Yata could feel, now that he has the chance to understand Mikoto-san, and about all the alphabet boys’ reactions).

However Mikoto has already decided not to stay at Homra; instead he’s got a small apartment not so nearby, where he can stay for the time being. To him it’s a kind of “safe space”, where he can live without feeling outside pressures (yes, even from his own -ex?- clan), and which he needs to adjust to whatever kind of life he will decide to have. It doesn't take long for Munakata to show up at its door: and always at the weirdest hours, especially during night-time. Mikoto can’t really say to be exactly “happy” about the timing, but even complaining a lot he lets Munakata in every time, because he knows this is the other’s way to reach out, and that he is the only one Munakata can relate to. So he offers him the not-so-cozy couch in the small living room and a drink, and they spend the rest of the night awake drinking and chatting, pretending to be enough drunk so that their words seem a little less real, a little more forgivable.

Both of them are struggling in different ways, and somehow, they manage to help each other, by barely being there for the each other. Munakata does most of the talking, often on completely trivial events involving bonding activities and suspicious collective spreading of fever or stomachache in the blue clan, and Mikoto mostly replies with “uh”s, always forgetting who’s this Fuse that from time to time appears in Munakata’s talking (he’s got a rough idea about a certain Domyouji, and for some reasons he can’t stand a certain Aki-bunny).

But there are other times, when their shared bottle (or bottles) is almost empty, and the night has reached its darker hours, in which their talks become more serious.

It's during one of these nights that Munakata murmurs:

"I /still/ want to save you, Suoh"

and that hits Mikoto hard, he can almost feel it physically, in how his chest clenches, in his lack of breath; because if the first time he heard that sentence from Munakata he was run to his own death, now it's different, now he's struggling to stay alive. And deep inside Mikoto isn't even sure if he is worth to be the object of all... that consideration. Because he doesn't feel he deserves it. And he asks "why", why Munakata should care so much about someone like him. And Munakata just smiles sadly, knowing full well they both know *why*, and also knowing it would be too easy, too simple, somehow *wrong* saying those little words, because neither is ready and is in a good state of mind, because both are a little broken over past feelings and now it's enough being together, it really is. {♔}

... And eventually everything works out and they live happily being idiots! :D

I didn’t tell everything, and I left out a little of Munakata’s pov in this (but it was becoming so long! ;A;), but this is my favorite “alive!Mikoto AU”, the one I go mostly with when I am thinking about a scenario in which Mikoto survives. If you see a lot of similitarities with some of @ridiasfangirlings‘s scenarios, well, you’re right! I built most of this AU also thanks to her, so kudos to Ridia! <3 I hope you liked my... scenario, story? and that you had a good cry! :D

#mikorei #k project #suoh mikoto #munakata reisi #anko parfait

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harry-leroy · 4 years

Note

Can I bend the rules for the AU fic list? If so, how about George and Dwight with 1 (sick/injured) and/or 3 (amnesia) Thank you! : D

Yes you totally can!! I’m so sorry that this took a million years to get around to - as you probably all know, I’m terrible about answering asks in a timely manner. But this was a lot of fun to write! It’s somewhere post S5 - not exactly sure where though hehehe. Leaving under a cut for some angsty things - but everything’s all good by the end:) So stay tuned for some good old fashioned hurt/comfort ❤️

When George awoke, his vision sparkled and thinned, tunneling as he stared upwards into ornate, gilded designs. He was exhausted, far too tired now to fall back asleep. Before he could say anything, he felt a cold cloth on his forehead. There was also a gentle tug at his wrist, but he could not be bothered to look around at anything other than the ceiling.

Dwight sighed in relief. George’s pulse was quite normal again. It had been a difficult few nights at Cardew battling a fever this high, and seemingly with no cause. The good doctor had assured Cary Warleggan that there was no need for fear as George battled his fever; he did not fear death would result in the fight. However, Dwight was concerned as to what led to the man’s suffering and delirium. He had begun to consider George as a friend, and a dearer one than he might have expected at that. It pained him to see any man suffer, but all the more because it was George Warleggan.

George began to hear sounds, the semblances of voices. He felt his breath catch and a chill break down his spine.

“George?” He saw a face that looked like Dwight’s right above him. He felt a hand on his forehead now. “George? Can you hear me?”

* * *

It was another several hours before George opened his eyes again. This time he felt considerably more rested, though still having to take a few minutes to register his surroundings as real and consequential rather than figments of his imagination. The voices returned, but this time he could attach people to them. Real people.

“Was he doing anything strenuous before his fever began?” Dwight asked, his voice quiet from where George was. “Did he seem alright? No mention of-“

“No,” Cary cut him off. “No mention of her. He’s rid of her now,”

Dwight took a moment and caught his place against Cary’s quick counter.

“Still,” he said. “A great amount of bank work? A problem with the mine?”

“Nothing more than usual,” Cary said. “What are you suggesting? That this was caused by something... in the head?”

“I’m not sure,” Dwight said, glancing at George. It was then the good doctor realized that George was awake, and looking quite curiously at them. “Oh, Sir George,”

As Dwight rushed to his patient’s side, George made a weak attempt to prop himself up on his elbows.

“Where am I?” He asked. “What’s happened?”

“You should lie back down, nephew,” Cary said, lingering behind Dwight at a much slower pace. “You’ve been unwell,”

“Unwell?” George looked at Dwight. “What does he mean?”

“There is nothing to worry about, rest assured,” Dwight said. “Just a fever. You seem to be on the mend,”

George made a small noise, something like an acknowledgement, and lied back down on the pillow.

“Um,” George began. “How long?...”

“A few days,” Dwight said. “You collapsed on the floor after supper on Thursday evening. I was sent for immediately,”

“And today is?” George asked.

“Monday,” Dwight said, placing another gentle hand on his patient’s forehead. “Your fever seems to have broken. I should like you to rest a day or two more before resuming your activities as normal, but you should make a full recovery,”

“Do you have a day in mind?” Cary asked.

“We shall see how he feels tomorrow,” Dwight said. “But I should like him to stay in bed today, in case something were to happen,”

The doctor then turned back to George, gently taking his wrist again to check his pulse. He did not seem overly concerned until his brows knitted, as if he had remembered something.

“Sir George,” Dwight began. “Do you recall how you were feeling on Thursday? Do you recall any of the day at all?”

George blinked, trying to access his memory, but frustratingly, to no avail. He merely shook his head.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Dwight asked, still keeping calm with his voice, which was a great comfort to both George and Cary.

It took George a moment to think before it came to him, almost as hazy as the images he had seen in his heated delirium.

“Valentine,” he said. “Saying goodnight,”

“So nothing of Thursday at all?” Dwight asked.

George did not say anything. He could not begin to think of what Thursday was even meant to look like. He very suddenly wanted to see his children, but he could not bring himself to speak and ask for them.

“Did he meet with anyone on Thursday?” Dwight asked Cary. “Any engagements? Did he seem off?”

“He looked alright to me,” Cary said. “His collapse was quite a surprise to say the least,”

Before Dwight could respond, George spoke.

“Where are my children?” he asked. He seemed unsure of himself, unsure of his surroundings. He seemed to be looking in the middle of nowhere.

“Oh, um,” Cary began, quite certain that George must have been out of his wits again. “Do you really want them now?-“

“I’m sure they are not far away,” Dwight assured his patient. “Would you like to see them?”

Cary gave Dwight a look, one of a slight indignation for letting his own command slip, but Dwight merely smiled politely, then turned back to his patient.

“Oh, could I?” George asked. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them,”

“Of course,” said Dwight as Cary gave a small huff, beginning to retreat away. Dwight watched him go, nearly amused (now that George was feeling much better and sure to recover fully) that Cary was still so hesitant to let Dwight have free reign over his treatment of George. However, he could not say that he blamed the man after what George had been through in the past. If that had happened to any relation of his, he would have never trusted another doctor again.

Once the doctor and his patient were alone, Dwight felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned around and knelt down. George took an excited breath in, his eyes lighting up with a kind of clarity.

“It was my children, you see,” he said. “I was so worried. About Valentine. He’s to go off to school in a week’s time. It’s the first time he’s been away for that long since... well...,”

“Go on,” Dwight urged, his voice still calm.

“You see,” George took a gentle hold of Dwight’s forearm, as if that would help him have strength to remember what was on his mind. “I never understood it. With Geoffrey Charles. Sending him to Harrow. But that’s because he isn’t... mine. I should have... listened. To her,”

“I understand,” Dwight said.

“It was almost as if,” he began, showing a slight hesitation before beginning again, “as if she was saying that she was right. I wondered if she... was angry. Resentful,”

“She could never be resentful,” Dwight said. “She loved you. And were she here today, she would feel that same pain you feel in losing Valentine. But he will come home again. He will have made friends, and learned much, but he will always be yours,”

“And hers,” George said, almost as though it were an afterthought.

“Yes,” Dwight said. “You must be strong for him. I’m sure he is just as nervous,”

George nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “I will be. I must be,”

“Only after you’ve had a few more days to recover,” Dwight smiled. “Even though you are on the mend, I am still worried that your mental state was enough to bring you to this,”

“Was it that awful? My fever?” George asked, slightly worried that he had inconvenienced Dwight, no matter how silly that notion was.

“It is nothing you need to worry about,” Dwight said. “I am glad you told me what was on your mind,”

There was presently giggling that came from the closed door to the room. It opened to the sight of an exasperated Cary leaning over a tall boy and trying to hold the door. The boy ran in with as much excitement as Dwight had seen when George recovered from his last great illness, followed by Bessie carrying a little girl that was almost too big now to be carried. He smiled.

“Papa!”

#thank you so much for this!#i hope you enjoy ❤️#basically i love george and dwight with my whole heart #this probably isnt even canon compliant but i dont care hehehe #otp: i was there #brotp: i was there #dwight enys #george warleggan #cary warleggan #poldark #poldark fic #my fic #poldark au #poldark s5 #ticketybooser #hope you’re doing well hun!

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nymphigeon · 4 years

Text

Roses Have Thorns

♡ Pairing; Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre; Angst, Fluff, Fantasy!AU, Supernatural!AU, S2L, Student!Jungkook, Wizard!Jungkook, Angel!Reader, Demon!Reader, Student!Reader

♡ Warnings (for this chapter); Swearing, mentions of stabbing, an attack

♡ Rating; NC-17

♡ Words; 2893

♡ Summary; A girl forced to live in fear because of her own power. Even though she isn’t supposed to exist, she wants to live. She’ll just make sure that she breaks herself over and over until there is nothing left of her. He, of course, won’t let her.

Series masterlist

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Two

“Haeun? Is this yours?” You ask as you walk into your mansion’s private library. In the middle of the library stands a long table with chairs all round. Only one of the chairs is taken. “I found this glass looking thing in my room, but I can’t remember having anything like it.” You open the palm of your hand to show the item mentioned.

Haeun doesn’t look up from her book, but somehow still knows what you’re talking about. “It’s a regeneration crystal. As long as you keep it on you the crystal will heal all wounds until it’s drained of power. After that you can keep it as a pretty rock or throw it out if you wish. A gift from one of mother’s clients. We all have one.”

Despite spending her time reading a book, she couldn’t have looked more bored. You can’t read the title on the cover with the way she’s holding it, but if you had to guess it’s probably something college related.

“Why would they gift regeneration crystals? They’re crazy expensive and it’s not like one of us gets stabbed every day.” You look at the tiny crystal in your hand with a puzzled look. For the longest time these crystals were thought to be a myth. Something someone thought of while writing their newest fantasy thriller.

Everyone claiming they had one got called crazy and eventually, nobody spoke of them anymore. Too scared to be criticized by a large number of people, these owners of the regeneration crystals got silenced.

It wasn’t until a group of researches accidentally stumbled upon a small warehouse filled with the crystals that the supposed myth was proven to be reality. A few powerful witches had been creating them, hoping to be able to distribute them among those joining the military.

Back then the crystals weren’t nearly as powerful or small as they are now, but as a myth proven true all the tabloids were filled with the news. Obviously the researches saw money in the crystals, and instead of giving them to those that needed them for free like the witches wanted, they sold them off to those with power.

Needles to say the creators were angry and stopped producing them. Some say they still created the crystals in secret, giving them off to the ones they trusted as soon as they were done so nobody could selfishly steal them, though this was never confirmed.

It wasn’t until a few years later that researches found another type of witches who were able to make them. These individuals had a completely different mindset compared to the original inventors, and decided to team up with the researchers, creating the crystals to sell them.

Sadly, both types of witches that were able to produce these see-through stones slowly died out, leaving just a handful all over the world. The crystals got rarer by the day, prices skyrocketing. If you’re lucky you’ll meet a nice witch sometime during your life who will create you a free crystal. If not, you must be ready to pay a fortune.

“Should you really be talking though? If anything you need it the most out of us all.” She closes her book after placing a bookmark in between pages. “Nobody is trying to harm me Haeun.”

Your older sister never seemed to particularly like you, and you’ve never been able to find out why. Out of your three siblings, all older than you, she’s the only one who seems to hold a grudge against you. By now it’s almost an everyday occurrence, wondering why she was the only one that had to stay home besides yourself, while the others moved out when they finished high school.

“Because you’ve been protected by a stuck-up entitled brat your whole life.” She glares at you and pushes her chair back to stand up, clearly not wanting to be in the same room as you. “You’re lucky you’re mom’s child. She’s probably the only person who would go through such great lengths to make sure you’re safe.”

Being the youngest child, you’ve always sought for the validation of your older siblings. That worked two times, or more specific, it worked for the two twins in the household. Your 24 year old brother and sister adore you, always calling to make sure everything is okay back home. Haeun though, can’t seem to hold that same energy.

“You truly speak like a fully-fledged demon.” You do not wish to fight with her, still, you also can’t just let her get away with her words. Perhaps this is your own way of trying to show her that she hurt you.

“I’d like to remind you that your own mother and like half of your family tree is full-demon.” She seems to think your distress is amusing, happily replying to your insults. “You’re the only one whose personality matches one as well.”

Somewhere you were hoping she’d comfort you, apologizing for her words. “If I’m so bad then why is nobody hunting me down? Why am I not the one being protected?” You can’t do anything but look at the ground and stand there, not knowing what to say.

Haeun, noticing your lack of answer, walks up to you so she can deliver her following words right in your face. “You know, criminals aren’t supposed to be protected.” Walking past you, she gets to the exit of the room.

“I didn’t do anything.” Once again you’re trying to hold back tears. Why do you have to be such a cry baby? “Keep telling yourself that. Hopefully it’ll come true one day.” Is it her mission to make you feel as miserable as she possibly can?

“Is it so wrong to just want to feel safe?” You whisper, but her sensitive ears still hear you. “In your case, of course it is.” With that she walks out, letting the door fall closed behind her. With her she takes the little confidence you managed to build up for yourself.

The loud thud of something – or rather a bunch of things – falling wakes Jungkook up. Complete silence follows the sound, almost as if it was never even there. The still tired boy groans, rolls over, and gets ready to fall back asleep. It’s Saturday, waking up at any time before 1 pm is way too early according to him.

Just for a second Jungkook debates whether he should go check if everything is okay, but quickly dismisses the thought. Nobody is screaming out it pain, so it should be fine. Except if said person fucked up so bad that whatever fell instantly killed them.

Jungkook sighs and accepts the fact that he might be a teensy bit worried. He yawns, not caring to block his mouth, and sits up in bed. There’s not much his eyes have to adjust to, as the room is still completely dark thanks to his blackout curtains hanging in front of the windows. The curtains were hell for his basically empty bank account back when he bought them, but damn do they do a good job at keeping the light out.

He can’t tell what time it is, but his droopy eyes tell him it’s definitely nowhere near noon yet. Getting out of bed, Jungkook puts some socks on his bare feet. It’s no secret that their laminate flooring is almost always freezing in the mornings. There was even a time when Namjoon was sure some evil spell had been casted on their floor, doing his best to get rid of it. Needless to say, that didn’t go very well. Turns out no evil spell was on the floor, their bitchy apartment just loses heat really fast.

When Jungkook walks out of his room he calls out for the only other person living there. “Namjoon?” He squints at the light coming through the living room windows. Both Namjoon and Jungkook have their own room, so there was no need to get any curtains for the living room. It would just have been a waste of money, although Jungkook is thinking of buying some for his poor eyes.

Nobody answers his call. Did these things just fall on their own then? Jungkook is quite sure he doesn’t live with a pair of ghosts, so he shuffles a bit further into the room and calls out again. “Is everything okay? Where are you?” He raises the volume of his voice a bit, hoping that it will help.

He can’t help but lightly cringe at the way he sounds, having forgotten he only woke up a few minutes ago and his voice is still laced with sleep. “I’m here Jungkook.” This time Namjoon responds to the call from the kitchen.

Jungkook walks over to the kitchen to check on the current situation. “What happened? I heard something falling and-“ Abruptly stopping his speech, Jungkook’s eyes widen as soon as he reaches the doorway.

The kitchen floor is an absolute mess. Food laying everywhere on top of what seems to be a dozen of broken eggs, with Namjoon’s form desperately trying to clean at the side. “Wha- How did you…” It takes him a moment before he can manage to form a proper sentence, not sure if what he’s seeing is real.

“Why is there food all over the floor?!” Jungkook nearly screams in shock. Luckily none of his snacks ended up on the floor, having no need to be refrigerated. They are still safely tucked away somewhere in one of the cupboards.

“I wanted to take something out of the fridge without moving the rest in front of it, but as you see, it kind of failed..” Namjoon looks guilty. Not only did he throw hard earned money on the floor, he also woke his roommate up in the process. Two things he likes to avoid.

Jungkook internally face palms, but doesn’t show it on his face. “This is what you get for being lazy.” Although he probably shouldn’t be saying that, as he is usually the lazy one. Jungkook bends down to get a towel from one of the lower cupboards. Initially he was going straight back to sleep after seeing what happened, but he’d feel bad if he just left Namjoon alone here.

“No worries, I’ll help you.” He smiles at his friend, trying to somehow comfort him. “Thank you.” Namjoon scratches the back of his head out of embarrassment, before audible sighing. “I’ll go get the mop.” He lets Jungkook know before walking out. This was not how Jungkook imagined he would be spending his Saturday morning, but at least nobody got hurt.

“Eleanor.” She didn’t need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. Having heard his voice for years now, the sound is most familiar to her. Comforting, soft, caring.

“It’s getting cold, so I brought you a jacket.” Elenora smiles and takes the jacket her husband offers her. “Thank you.”

The temperature dropping hadn’t been on her mind, too deep in her own thoughts. She’s thankful for the garment, instantly feeling a lot warmer.

“What do you think of the flowers?” Elenora asks Minho right after he sits down next to her. “I planted them before my sister brought the kids over, since Juwon likes them.” A small smile is plastered on her face at the thought of her excited nephew.

“They’re pretty, I like them.” He feels her eyes on him and looks down to meet her gaze. Having been caught, Elenora quickly turns her head in the opposite direction. They have been married for quite a few years, but sometimes she still acts like a high school student having a crush.

“I’m glad.”

Silence follows. Minho wasn’t planning on staying outside with her, but now that he’s here he might as well enjoy the fresh air. Besides, something feels off, a pull keeping him next to her.

“Am I a bad person?” The silence get cut by an unexpected question. “Eleanor-” “I’m making sure that someone who shouldn’t have power, keeps her crown. At this point I’m just spreading propaganda.”

She sighs and rests her head in her hands, covering her face. “I’m trying to keep someone safe by helping those with ill intentions. Does that make me a bad person?” She isn’t necessarily looking for an answer, she knows there is none.

“I agreed to it. If that makes you a bad person then I’m one too.” Scooting closer, Minho takes her hands from her face, squeezing lightly. “Angels can’t be bad, that’s exactly what they’re known for, what gives them their name.” She lets out a sad sounding chuckle. Despite everything, she can find a little enjoyment in the statement.

“There’s a first for everything.” He smiles at her, stroking the back of her hands. “No one is ever 100% good, but I’d like to think you are.” They say love makes you blind, and maybe she is, but she doesn’t really care.

“Then you are too.” No hesitation in his voice. She isn’t sure what makes him say that, but she’ll believe his words for now.

“We’ll figure out a way to satisfy everyone eventually. It just takes time of course. I trust the story won’t end badly.” He isn’t sure how to comfort her or how to give her an answer. All he can do now is support her. “I do hope so.” She lays her head on his shoulder, hoping that perhaps all her problems will disappear if she just forgets about them.

Jungkook usually loves the fact that the stores in town are open until late. He can’t even count the amount of times he went out at night to restock the snack he ate during the day, thanking the Lord for the gift of convenience stores.

Right now though, he hates it. Had the stores been closed by now, Namjoon wouldn’t have pushed him out the door to do the weekly grocery shopping, and Jungkook could have still been playing the new game he bought a week ago to which he ended up getting addicted to.

Well he wasn’t really forced out of the door, more like Namjoon convinced him to go. Damn him for having an important appointment with his project partner. Who wants to do school work during the weekend anyway?

“I should have everything now.” He murmurs while peering into the plastic bag dangling from his arm, looking back and forth between its contents and the shopping list to make sure he didn’t forget anything.

Jungkook probably bought more ramen than needed, but as long as he didn’t forget anything it should be fine. Even though it’s Jungkook who does most of the cooking in the house, Namjoon isn’t scared to scold him whenever he forgets something. Ridiculous, It isn’t even his fault the fridge ended up empty.

Realizing he still needs one of the vegetables, he turns around, walking back to the store he just came from with sighs and curses leaving his mouth. All he wants to do is go home and just get this done. There is nothing likable about eggplants anyway, when will he ever use them to cook?

Luckily for him, he won’t need to go back after all. Though, giving your life for not having to get an eggplant may seem a bit much. Not that he really has a choice in the unfair trade anyway.

Jungkook’s steps are fast, arriving at the grocery store as soon as possible is the only thing on his mind. It’s not until the clock strikes 9 pm exactly that he is forced to stop, an incredible heat closing in on his spot.

Someone somewhere screams. People everywhere start running in opposite directions, blindly clashing into each other. A few trip and fall, crawling to safety between the legs blocking their path. Others faint, their heads not being able to make sense of what’s happening.

Nobody minds them, forcefully stepping on the bodies of those on the ground. With the way people are moving it won’t be long before the entire street is empty. It’s complete chaos.

Jungkook, still standing where he stopped, looks up at the sky, searching for the cause of all this madness. He regrets it instantly, having probably been off better without knowing what was about to end him. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight.

About to set fire to everyone and everything, a massive blue fireball is raging his way. The bag he was holding falls to the ground, his eyes widening. It’s not hard to guess who the sender is. Luna is still after him.

It’s like time suddenly slows down substantially. The fireball is still so far away, yet also way too close. A memory of Namjoon chanting an extinguishing spell flashes through Jungkook’s mind, but is all too soon forgotten. Maybe if he had actually paid attention at that time he would be able to save himself now.

Frozen with fear, his feet refuse to move. He can’t do anything. Shivering all over, Jungkook crosses his arms in front of him as a way to shield himself. Maybe if he can’t see anything, it will cease to exist. And thus he closes his eyes as tightly as he can, waiting for the burning hot impact. He had long accepted his fate. It’s over for him.

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fictionalrambles · 4 years

Text

Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Seventeen

Submitted by @archeryandeyeliner

Five Fave Fics

Lightwood-Bane Family Series by Fanatic_weirdo

Why I love this series: This was one of those fics for me that had me up until 4am on a work night, but I just couldn’t stop reading. Every single story in this series hits the reader in a different way. It deals with immortality in a way I have yet to see another fic handle. It works in Max and Rafael to a point where I was almost more invested in their stories than Malec’s, which is incredibly hard to do. The reader gets Malec as immortal husbands and father’s to two children who the reader can’t help but fall in love with.

Favorite work in the series: This is Me (Fighting for you) follows the love story between Max Lightwood-Bane and Chris, Shadowhunter and Parabatai to his brother, Rafael.

Favorite quote: “He’s getting married,” Max whispered. Every word harder to say than the last as he tried to breathe against the feeling in his chest that made it feel like his throat was closing. “And not to me.” That broke the dam and now the sobs were back. Heaving and ripping out of his throat as he gripped one of their shirts as tightly as he could, desperate to keep from drowning.

Magnus and Alec had tears of their own trickling down their faces at their child’s pain. They knew it wasn’t just a teenage heartbreak. What Max and Chris had was as real as what Magnus and Alec had.

“Please fix it, Daddy,” Max begged, his face contorted in agony. A sob came from Alec’s throat as every instinct in him told him to do what was ingrained in parents to do and ‘fix it’.

“I want you to kiss me,” Max whispered. Chris moved forward but another hand on his chest stopped him, “But I won’t be able to bear it when you stop.”

Support System by @bytheangell

Why I love this fic: Elle has always been one of my favorite authors in the fandom and someone I’m lucky enough to call a friend. This was one of the first chaptered fics I ever read for the fandom and it pulled me in like no other. The dynamic between Magnus and Alec was so perfectly written and the storyline truly helped me with accepting the inevitable end of the tv series. Throughout the entire fic, you just want them to get their act together. The missed opportunities are plenty and when they do finally meet, it’s just as beautiful as the reader could hope for.

Favorite quotes: “Why don’t you just tell him?” It’s a question Alec asks himself every day, and the answer he gives himself is the same one he hears come from behind the rim of a martini glass.

“Because if he doesn’t, and I ruin this friendship now, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Alec picks up the thought without missing a beat. He doesn’t know what this guy’s situation is, but he can certainly relate to the general concept. “And even if he does, and it doesn’t work out… It’s safer to keep what you have than risk losing everything.”

“...but then I wonder what if he’s sitting there, thinking the same thing? What if we’re both just waiting for the other to make the first move? Hell, what if it’s worth the risk?”

Magnus’ eyes aren’t on the billboard; they’re on the man standing next to him. Alec is conveniently unaware with his attention dutifully turned upward. He knows he should be looking up as well since the billboard is what they came here to see, but honestly, he’s enjoying this particular view much more... Especially now that the edges of Alec’s lips are curling up in a soft look of appreciation he probably isn’t even aware he’s making - the pure joy of his expression is enchanting. So while everyone else’s gaze is focused upward Magnus’ eyes linger on Alec. He doesn’t know what everyone else is looking at - Magnus can’t imagine a more captivating sight than the one he’s currently taking in.

Angel's Treasure by @msalexiscriss

Why I love this fic: I read this fic during a slow day at work. I sat in line at Dunkin Donuts, opened it on my phone in full, and drove to work with it ready to skim during the day. I was captured by it. I am not usually a fan of these kinds of AU’s, but this fic had me neglecting all of my adult responsibilities. The adventures that they go through together and the love they have for each other was everything I needed at that moment and it will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Favorite quotes: “No, what are you doing!?” He berated himself in the back of his mind. “You’re caring about the boy and you can’t! You can’t!” He told to himself, trying to close his eyes and go back to sleep.

But his mind kept taking him back to the first time he had seen Alec in the square in Alicante, to the day the boy had helped him out of prison, to the day when, in an attempt to protect his father’s honor, he had tried to kill him; to their time in the Spiral, to their little stroll in Cadiz, to their perfect adventure in Cartagena. There was a memory of Alec in every day since they had met and Magnus hated that.

He hated it because he was starting to feel guilty, something that had not happened before. Every time he recalled one of those moments all he could see in Alec’s eyes was trust, and Magnus knew he was not worthy of such thing. Alec didn’t do it on purpose, of course, it was in his nature. Alec was one of those men who had a blind faith in humanity—and that was either a blessing or a curse.

“The fact that you’re a pirate doesn't make you a bad person.”

“What?” Magnus asked just to make sure he had heard correctly.

“Not all pirates are bad.” Alec said. “You’re not bad...I mean, you’ve committed crimes and all, but you’re not a bad person. I know you’re a good man.”

Magnus tried to laugh at the sudden compliment, like Raphael and Ragnor seemed to be doing, but he couldn't. What Alec had just said had touched him deeply. And even though he was not sure if he deserved the praise, he was grateful that his skin had the right tone to hide those uncontrollable accumulations of blood, because after more than 108 years, give or take, Magnus Bane, immortal pirate and once captain of the world's fastest ship, had blushed.

Appassionato by @chonideno

Why I love this fic: There’s something so soft and wonderful about Malec falling in love with only their mutual love of music. Throughout the entire story, I didn’t mind that they hadn’t met. They fall in love with each other through every piece of music that Magnus requests and Alec seduces him with every brush of his fingers over the keys. I wanted Alec to keep fulfilling his love for his gift and Magnus’ little notes made it even better, for both the reader and Alec. This fic is nothing less than poetic in nature and every single piece Alec played for his tiny audience had me captured without actually hearing the music.

Favorite quotes: There’s a note on the doorstep.

Alec bends over, picks it up and closes the door. It’s a thin piece of paper coming from some kind of notepad. Something is handwritten on it; the ink is a deep purple (really? who writes in purple ink?) and the words flow with grace despite having obviously been written in a rush. The letters are inclined, in cursive, elegant. Even more pleasing to the eyes, instead of a complaint, Alec reads a love letter.

“A humble request to the pianist: Liebesträume no 3 in A flat.”

A request. Someone heard him and when they could have ignored him or asked him to stop, they want more. They want more. A wild shiver runs down Alec’s back. He has an audience.

On Tuesday, his neighbor sounds tired, so Magnus requests a simple Goldberg Variation.

On Wednesday, his neighbor plays for a full hour without stopping so Magnus requests the short and jumpy Maple Leaf Rag, hoping to tire him out and allow him to sleep.

On Thursday, Magnus finds a large plate full of muffins of all sorts on his neighbor’s doormat; chocolate, caramel, blueberry, vanilla – only good stuff. They all look homemade too, all soft and perfectly baked. Still warm for some, they smell absolutely delicious. Magnus can’t believe it. It’s for him. His neighbor made all of this for him. He leaves his note and carefully takes the plate as if he had just found a pirate’s treasure. Of all things he owns, of all the silks and cashmeres he’s touched, nothing is quite as precious as a plate of baked goods prepared with love. Later this night, biting into the muffin version of an apple crumble as Alec delights him with Saint-Saëns’ Swan, Magnus wonders what he did to deserve this seat in heaven.

“I have one last humble request, if you let me,” Magnus smiles, visibly proud of having used the perfect phrasing. He steps even closer, his hands joined together under his chest as he rubs his own palms gently. “Please, teach me,” he almost whispers.

Alec raises an eyebrow. This doesn’t make sense, Magnus always seemed to be such an expert. “Teach you? What do you mean, you don’t play it?”

Magnus’ eyes dart to the left. “I know a lot about music but I’ve never really…” he moves his hands around, looking for a word. “Taken the time to learn myself.” He locks his gaze back into Alec’s eyes. “So let’s make a deal. Keep the piano and give me lessons in return.”

Wild Life by crazyellephant

Why I love this fic: There’s something about two strangers who meet in the craziest of ways that just gives a reader hope for their own future. Magnus is so entirely lovable and Alec was a goner the second he decided to ask Magnus along for the ride. With every new character who sees them falling in love, the reader learns a little more about both Magnus and Alec and it makes the reader fall in love with them separately before they even want them together. These two were insufferable the entire fic and I just wanted them to have their happily ever after.

Favorite quotes: In this life, Alec is just the guy who was nice enough to have picked up this hitchhiker. And tomorrow, quite possibly, they’re going to go their separate ways.

"Hey, Alec." Magnus said, his voice echoing in the room. Alec grunted to acknowledge he was still awake. "Thank you for coming back to pick me up and staying with me tonight."

Alec turned and lay on his back, his hands resting on his stomach. He looked at Magnus and smiled. "No problem. My conscience wouldn’t have let me live it down if I heard you died there or something."

"Magnus?" Alec asked, voice catching in his throat.

"Hm?" Magnus responded.

"I really like you." Alec all but whispered his confession, aware of how very close they were. He held his breath, waiting for Magnus to say something.

Magnus smiled wider. "I really like you, too." He confessed.

Attached to her message is a screenshot of Magnus' Instagram page. Trust his sister to already be following probably all of Magnus' social media accounts. It was a picture of the two of them. Magnus had jumped on Alec for a piggyback, his arms around Alec, hands resting on Alec's chest, Alec's hands circled back around Magnus' thighs to keep him steady. Magnus' had his chin on Alec's shoulder and both of them were smiling. It was taken by a friendly tourist when they were at Lipan point earlier that day, with the view of the Grand Canyon right behind them.

On the caption Magnus had written:

Most handsome mule at the #GrandCanyon. ;) #OrIsItStubbornAss #besttimeever #adventure #mine

Author Story

I had always been terrified of posting my writing. I’ve written for years, upwards of 15 at this point in time. I have notebooks filled with stories dating back to my freshman year in high school, none of which have ever (or will ever) see the light of day. There was something so… satisfying, about posting my first story for this fandom. It wasn’t anything amazing now that I look back on it, but it spurred my creativity and had me yearning to write. It had been years before I posted my first fic that I had actually sat down and written a story. Now, a few days go by without writing and I feel lost.

I have this fandom to thank for that. I’ve met the most brilliant, talented, kind people that I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing through Shadowhunters. Every author mentioned and so many more inspire my own writing every single day. Writing is… hard. It’s impossible to always feel good about what you put on a page, but to have fans of the show tell you that your writing made them feel something is unimaginable. I’ve had people tell me that my writing makes them cry because of angst, have to take a cold shower because of smut, makes them curl up in a ball and squeal because of fluff; it honestly means everything.

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction blog

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asphalt-cocktail · 5 years

Text

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Broke, Single, and Homeless

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hi All!! It’s ya girl AC back at it again with a Roger Taylor fic! This is heavily inspired by a Bucky Barnes x Reader fic I read some time ago on AO3 called Heart on the Line (Operator, Operator) by Janvandyne and it’s super good so, read it! Also my plan for this fic is for it to be kind of funny and light hearted but still a slow burn with some looming sexual tension with a lot of short chapters as opposed to my typical 5-6k chapters. This is also going to be a modern!AU and a roommates!AU but feel free to picture 70s!Queen/BoRhap for the characters. I am also not going to link my masterlist or the other chapters in my posts because it doesn’t show up in the tags when I do link it, but you can find everything relating to the fic under the tag FSC Fic. My tag list is open, so if you are interested feel free to send me an ask! I will only be accepting those who are 18+ because there are going to be sexual themes later on in the fic. Enjoy my lovelies and as always this can be read as Ben!Roger or just regular Rog.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, cheating, sexual situations, break up, reader is pretty unlucky, alcohol, mentions of sex work

Word Count: 2.3k

Let’s get one thing straight, you were most certainly not boring.

You might have called yourself responsible for politely declining your friend’s invite for a night out for a night in with your long-time boyfriend, Harrison, after a long day of work; but you wouldn’t have described your actions as boring.

Your drive home from work on the other hand, you would. Your daily thirty-minute commute was painfully boring; every day you drove to work, hooked the Bluetooth radio up to your phone and made it through the same 7 and a half songs on your ‘Car Jams’ playlist. Then you would park it in your apartment parking lot, beep the alarm button twice to make sure it was on and locked, and unlock your sticky apartment door by ramming your shoulder into it, make dinner, and wait for Harrison to get home.

Today was different though, a break in the same old mundane routine, your kitchen light was on and the door was already locked. You cautiously opened the front door and stuck your keys between your knuckles, what if someone had broken in?

Nothing looked out of place, but you could obviously hear someone thumping around one of the back rooms and voices.

Thump, thump accompanied by some murmurs you couldn’t make out.

You slowly walked deeper into your apartment, too focused to close the door behind you. The deeper you got, the louder the shuffling and pounding god. Your heart pounded against your chest and you clutched your keys with white knuckles, reaching for your bedroom door, the source of the noise.

Upon opening it, you saw Harrison, bare and rhythmically thrusting into a woman who was most certainly not you.

You dropped your keys which jingled loudly when they hit the ground and alert them of your presence.

Harrison glanced up at you and let out a sigh, rolling his eyes as if he were annoyed you were interrupting him. The girl covered her chest, “Sorry!” She said her face flushed and watching yours fall in defeat.

Your boyfriend pulled out of her and slumped over, “Harrison-” Your voice was unsteady from shock, “What-what’s this?” You asked.

Harrison let out a long, deep sigh, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, “It’s exactly what it looks like.” He said, “I’m sorry, but our relationship is just so boring it was driving me mental.” He looked down sheepishly.

There was that word again

Boring

“Boring?” You asked slightly shocked, “What- I… I don’t understand,” Your stomach clenched seeing the woman still in your bed that the two of you routinely shared.

“It’s boring, [Y/N], we have only had sex in the missionary position for the last three months, for god sake we eat frozen pizza and watch the Bachelor every Thursday and have for as long as we’ve lived together.” It was as though he ripped away a band aid that covered a festering wound, one that had gotten far too big to cover.

It was true; the sex was disappointing, stale even. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t fake an orgasm just to get it over with.

“You can go,” Harrison said to the girl who you had forgotten was even there.

She leaned over, moving to pick up her clothes before you interrupted, “It’s fine,” You said swallowing your pride, “I’ll just leave. It’s probably best if we didn’t see each other after this.” Your voice cracked with emotion.

Harrison didn’t protest or chase after you when you grabbed your keys from the floor and left, shutting and locking the apartment door behind you.

You opened your phone, your thumb hovering over your friend’s phone number before you exhaled loudly and clicked the little phone icon, dialing his number, “Fred?” You spoke as soon as he picked up.

It had barely been an hour since the two of you had gotten out of work, but you could tell he was already at the club by the rhythmic beats you could hear in the background “Yes, love?” He answered.

“Are you guys still out?” You knew he was, but still found yourself asking.

“Course we are darling, it’s barely 7pm. The night is still young!” He exclaimed, mischievous as ever.

“Can I still take you up on that invite?” You sighed.

You could tell Freddie was grinning from ear to ear, “For you, the invite is always open, I’ll send over my location!” He said before giving you a short ‘ta’ and hanging up.

Within seconds Freddie’s message lit up the screen on your phone with the location of a bar he often frequented before he would go out to the night club across the street. You looked down, still in your work clothes and frowned “Fuck it.” You shrugged, turning your car on and beginning your drive.

You had a lot of time for your thoughts to marinade in your head on your commute to the bar. You should have been more upset over Harrison cheating on you, you should have been angry with him, at the girl, and you should have had asked more questions. Yet, you found that you felt as though a strange weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like you were free from prison.

A smile crept across your face as it became illuminated by the cheap neon lights on the front of the bar, you found a parking spot which was surprisingly easy considering it was a work day, and walked into the bar.

You immediately spotted Freddie and several of Freddie’s friends all squeezed into the large booth in the back, Freddie waved enthusiastically at you and climbed over several peoples laps before he padded over to you, pulling you into a warm, friendly, embrace, “What made you change your mind?” He asked pulling away and gripping your hand so he could drag you to the bar.

“Oh,” You shifted uncomfortably, “I walked in on Harrison cheating on me.” You answered bluntly.

Freddie stared at you, his mouth ajar and stopping mid order, “He what?” He shrilly exclaimed, “Do you need me to go over there and fight for you dear? You say the word and I’ll key that scumbag’s car!” He was riled up; his blood was boiling.

You let out a small huff, “It’s fine, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” You answered honestly, “I’m not even that upset.” At least not yet.

Freddie handed you the drink he ordered, and you cautiously took a sip knowing you wouldn’t drink much tonight. Your friend turned around, clapping his hands and alerting the attention to the bar patrons “Everyone! Everyone!” He beckoned, “This is my friend [Y/N],” Oh no, “She’s just gotten dumped and needs to get fucked up,” Freddie gripped your shoulders tightly and shook you from side to side with excitement; his charisma was off the charts and the bar patrons erupted in shouts as he played the crowd and some how convinced them that you should most certainly NOT have to buy a single drink tonight.

If you did, you didn’t remember. In fact, you didn’t remember anything from the moment you stepped out of the bar to when you woke up on Fred’s couch. Your mouth was dry, and your head throbbed as you sat up. You looked at the clock 9:45, “Shit!” You shouted flailing out of your tangled mess of blankets and struggling to put your shoes back on, “Fucking hell.”

You weren’t surprised to see Freddie shuffling out of his bedroom, clad in his boxer briefs and a tank top, rubbing his eyes, “Who’s twisted your knickers this morning?” He asked.

“I’m 45 minutes late to work!” You exclaimed, patting your pockets for you phone and finally finding it on the table. You flicked your phone open to see two missed calls from your boss and around 7 text messages.

You hastily ran through Freddie’s hallway, catching your reflection in the mirror and stopping. You looked like literal shit. Your hair was a wild mess, eyes streaked with last nights makeup, and to top it all of you were still in last nights clothes. You took a minute to recompose yourself and fix your appearance before you glanced down.

Don’t bother coming in

Your heart dropped. This was your fourth time being late to work in the last month, you had been warned to not be late again, yet here you were; late once again and now unemployed.

Your life had been nothing short of a disaster this last week between losing your job and the whole Harrison situation. Freddie had so graciously allowed you to take up residence on his living room couch which was nice considering he was hardly ever home, but you could tell he was getting tired of having you moping about all the time.

It was nearly 12 in the afternoon when Freddie came down and ripped the blanket off you, the shock of the cold waking you up, “Come on, up!” He shouted playfully slapping at your thighs that showed due to your sleep shorts, “You can’t mope about on my couch forever, it’s really dragging down the atmosphere.” He chastised, tossing the blanket to the floor.

Your face felt hot with embarrassment, “I know, I promise I’m looking at new apartments Fred.” You said sheepishly. You were looking, but not having a job was making it a bit hard for you to convince landlords to call you back.

Freddie cleared his throat “Well that’s a moot point because I got you an apartment showing.”

You sat up, staring at him in shock “What? When?” You asked, wide eyed.

“Now! That’s why I said get up! I threw some clothes in the bathroom for you, I don’t care what you say you’re wearing them. I’m sick of seeing you in the same ugly jumper.” Freddie chastised.

You looked down and frowned, he had a point, you were wearing your old worn out college sweatshirt for the third day in a row, “Fine.” You muttered, getting up and trudging to the bathroom. You let out a deep sigh seeing the clothes Freddie had obviously taken from the second-hand store he ran that made you look like you had walked right out of some low budget 70s movie.

Much to your dismay, Freddie had also managed to wrangle you and dab a bit of rouge and mascara on your cheeks and eyes to help ‘complete the look’ before the two of you set out to see the apartment.

The house was surprisingly tidy, everything had its designated place and what little clutter there was took the form of retro posters and antiques, vinyl, and various other knickknacks. Freddie led you into the bedroom you would be staying in, thankfully it already had a full-size bed in the middle of the room and a dresser in the corner. You sighed in relief, since breaking up with Harrison, you found that everything in your shared apartment belonged to him as far as furniture went.

The door to the apartment opened and shut, alerting your and Freddie’s attention. The two of you walked out into the hall and your eyes settled upon your roommate. He wore a silk flower pattered button down with the top four buttons undone, exposing his pale chest and light flecks of blonde chest hair, accompanied by a pair of too tight jeans that left nothing to the imagination.

“Are you serious, Fred? Roger?” You crudely whispered and lightly pushed him.

Freddie put his hands up defensively, “He needed a roommate, and you needed a room, be grateful.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as Roger hung up his leather jacket on one of the hooks. He turned and faced you, scrunching his nose in disapproval “This is who you made me offer my room to?” He chastised Fred.

Freddie gaped at the two of you, “Be grateful.” He said shaking his finger like a disapproving mother, “You needed a roommate, and [Y/N] needed a room.” He repeated “If you don’t stop whining, you’ll both end up homeless, and I don’t hand out change.” Freddie reminded them of the reality of their situation, it was true you couldn’t sleep on Freddie’s couch forever, and Roger needed a roommate ASAP, or he was getting evicted.

You tried your best to not pass judgement on a man you hardly knew, but it was so hard when the only stories you had heard about him involved Freddie walking in on him having sex in various locations or doing ridiculously stupid things. He was most certainly not the type of person you wanted to live with, “I’m not saying I’m not grateful Freddie,” You quickly corrected, “I just don’t want to have to introduce myself to someone new every week.” Social interactions were truly exhausting to you.

Roger scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “That’s rich,” He mumbled while rolling his big blue eyes, “’Specially coming from the most boring person in all of West London.”

There was that word again, boring the word that haunted your thoughts at all hours of the day. You clenched your fists in frustration, “I am not boring!” You spat back.

After receiving the rent information from Roger, you truly didn’t know how you were going to afford the cost of living, “I only have enough money saved up for three months’ worth of rent, Fred.” You complained slumping against his car seat.

“You should to start selling pictures online like those girls on twitter do.” He said in a pointed fashion.

You made a face, looking at him slightly shocked, “What?” You asked confused at what he was suggesting.

Fred nodded “Yeah, it’s all the rage right now among young women. They make a lot of money doing it!” Freddie was always up to date on the latest trends in fashion and celebrity gossip, so it honestly didn’t surprise you when he was also up to date on the latest get rich quick plans.

You looked down at yourself, “I don’t know, who would pay to see me touch myself?” You asked honestly.

Fred arched his brow at you, “Honey, men would pay hundreds to see that pussy of yours on display, trust me.” He couldn’t help but give you a devilish grin, all in good fun.

God, Fred was going to be the death of you.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x you #reader insert #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #queen x reader #queen fanfic #roger taylor fanfic #borhap fanfic #borhap fandom #roger taylor series #queen series #FSC fic

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