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idealisticrealism · 2 years ago

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TCL 2x03 recap

Oh boy these just keep getting longer lol. So many thoughts about 2x03 (and especially Armony, of course) under the cut.

Also, while I know a tiny bit about the direction of this season, I'm doing my best to stay as spoiler free as I can, so any discussion about future eps or plotlines in this recap are purely just my own speculation.

Oh god Thony holding Luca and crying as she explains again that Marco isn’t coming back… sure, show, just completely crush my heart, it’s not like I needed it anyway or anything

Fi and Arman should have a mop-breaking competition lol

Ughh all these ladies supporting each other and having fun together, this is what it’s all about! We so rarely get to see Thony truly smile (the Reloj dance scene was one of the very notable occasions…) so it’s so nice then it happens. Also Fi and Thony (Or maybe Martha and Elodie?) seem to have this little shoulder shrugging dance move they do (it was the same in 1x01) and I love it??

Arman and Robert both run clubs in Vegas and have never met before? Clearly one or both of them must have been working hard to avoid it… Also man if I didn’t hate Robert already for how he treated Thony, I would have started to dislike him by now purely because of how tense he makes my boy Arman lol. The imagery of them facing each other from opposite sides with Nadia in between was a nice touch tho

Ugh so much to love about this scene. Thony getting to use her doctor skills, Fi absolutely annihilating Alonzo, Thony being all proud of her sis and having her back, the ladies all sticking together, and of course, “Chop chop, Alonzo” :P

Poor Fi panicking after realising that she really can’t go back and that she is now responsible for the others who quit with her, but Thony is all cool and ‘we got this’-- lbr she’s known that they’ve been heading towards this for a while. Also her telling Vinny off was kind of hot– and he probably agrees! Let's face it, he probably has a thing for Thony lol (but then again who doesn’t???)

Oh wow they’re really selling off everything? I’m intrigued by the ring– @enigmaticfox suggested that it might have been the first big gift he bought for her after they ‘made it’ and became able to live the life they wanted to live, and so it was a symbol of that dream being achieved? Also while I actually prefer when the show doesn’t give us subtitles, I’m definitely over here side-eyeing the very clear decision that the writers made to a) make sure we knew that Nadia told him she loved him, and b), not to have him say it back to her…. (of course he does love her, but I’m just saying, there was definitely a narrative choice made there)

Excuse me but Arman has no right to be this hot?? The image of him standing in the doorway in that black tshirt, all cool and confident as he casually threatens Garrett’s life is going to live in my head rent free for approximately forever lol. “All I need is one” oh lord help me

Poor Thony can’t catch a break when it comes to Luca lol. But oh man medical scenes in tv are the worst, like nope that’s not what meds you’d use, that’s not how you pronounce that word, that’s not how you do that… there’s definitely a reason why I can’t watch hospital shows lol. But anyway I love the repeated commentary about how broken the US medical system is; this show definitely isn’t shy about getting its message across

Ngl, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the kind of reunion scene that these two would likely have, and while the scene I’d been wishing they could have was quite different (I’ll fic it one day lol; it involves significantly more hugging haha) this actually was quite close to what I expected they would have– a lot of staring at each other and speaking in soft voices, but held back from anything more by the situation they’re in. And while the scene is simple and brief, honestly I think there’s a lot to like about it? Like the way their voices sound when they greet each other– it’s not the ‘oh hey I wasn’t expecting to see you’ kind of surprised tone that someone uses when they run into a friend unexpectedly, but more of a ‘I’ve been hoping to see you so badly and now you’re suddenly here in front of me and I don’t know what to say’. I love the tiny little pause after she says hey where they just stare at each other– it’s short, but still just long enough to be noticeable, just like the distance they’re standing at is just a little closer than what even most friends would– the magnetism is definitely real here, kids. Also something this scene made me realise is that Thony often crosses her arms when she and Arman are standing close to each other, but there’s nothing defensive or uncomfortable in it; I may be going off the fangirl rails here but I feel like the habit formed because she always wants to reach out to him but can’t let herself. But anyhow he makes it clear to her that despite already having plans, he will put them aside for her if she wants him to, and ugh when she agrees to the drink he immediately reaches for her, like he can’t keep himself from touching her any longer?? And then his hand just… lingers? Like okay, to touch her back for a moment as they turn would absolutely make sense, it’s a totally normal and common ‘come this way’ gesture. But instead he just keeps it there, keeping them connected as they walk into his club together in full view of any patrons and staff, all but claiming her as someone of significance to him. I also love her “You look-” (slight pause) “-better” lol, like she was almost about to say “You look good” and then decided that that would be a little too close to the truth of what she was thinking lol. It’s also interesting that in that moment, with her there beside him and his hand on her back, it’s the most at ease he’s looked all episode; while she looks like she’s practically holding her breath lol, like his touch and proximity is sending her nerves haywire. Or maybe that’s just me making shit up again! But either way, I loved this scene, even if it was a short and subtle moment. Couldn’t help but chuckle at him telling her he feels free though; between his debt to Robert and his obligation to Nadia, he’s practically as trapped as he was in prison. But I guess that for this one brief moment with Thony there beside him, he can forget about all of that :P

Ngl I love that they sat down and had a drink together in the bar, rather than going to his office– like being alone together would be too much of a temptation, too hard to keep the distance they need to keep, so they simply avoid it. She’s not long lost her husband, and he’s trying to save his wife from being condemned to a life of barely scraping by, and they’re both all too aware of it, and so each is holding back on behalf of the other. Also there’s just something about how the act of drinking involves hands and lips and ugh idk man, it feels like a bit of a proxy kind of thing to me rn lol. I will say that I need the show to stop chopping out chunks of their interactions though– seriously, stop leaving gaps that I feel compelled to fill, dammit-- but I assume he asked her how she was doing after the funeral etc, and maybe she even tactfully mentioned hearing about Hayak and asked how he was doing? And then of course he asks about Luca, and the moment she says she needs help you can immediately see that he’s going to give it, no matter what it involves. The man may be a big bad mobster but he’s also the world’s biggest simp when it comes to Thony haha. I honestly love that over the course of S1, she became more and more comfortable with going to him for help, as he steadily proved to her that she could rely on him and that he’d be there for her when she needed it. I also love how she pauses and puts down her drink when he mentions the military supplier, then asks him outright about the guns– she’s never been shy about calling him out on his shit, even when they barely knew each other and she was definitely stepping over a line– but this feels different, like she has a right to question his actions, like his decisions now involve her too. While early S1 Arman would have brushed her off, and late S1 Arman might have reassured her he knew what he was doing and that she should just trust him, this Arman immediately lays it all out for her, being completely honest about the situation he’s in and why he has to do what he’s doing, because it’s clearly important to him that she understands. And he makes it clear that he needs the money to be free of Robert, but honestly there might be another unspoken truth there too– that without the money, he can’t be free of Nadia, either. He has too much honour to abandon her to fend for herself, so if they lose everything he’ll stick with her no matter what, because he cares about her and it’s the right thing to do. And then ugh his face as Thony offers him up a solution for escaping his debt– a partnership, with her– but he’s afraid to take it. It’d mean venturing into the unknown, taking a gamble that could fail and leave him with nothing, and hmmmm I wonder if this is making him think of any other kind of risky venture involving Thony that he desperately wants to take?? There’s for sure some layers going on here, man. But anyhow ugh I gotta stop here because otherwise i will just rewatch this scene all night lol

Some random notes about the bar set, though: I don’t like the red lighting, reminds me too much of Robert’s place. Also I was sure those booths must be a new addition to the set but no they’ve been there all along (I checked 1x03 lol). And lastly why would they have the doors to the kitchen open when there’s clearly customers in the club?? These are the things I obsess about lol

Fi having trouble finding customers for their business makes me stressed, but ugh I loved seeing her grinning at their sign on the van. This woman deserves the world. Also ngl I kind of enjoy Mr Motel Manager? He’s such a caricature lol, and I know he’ll be taken care of soon enough. Also “You have until the end of the week” is very vague– end of the business week, or the weekend? What time?? How about you be more clear with your blackmailing, buddy??

Of course Thony tries to be logical about it– she’s spent enough time around criminals lately to have an idea of how their minds work– and I appreciate knowing that she actually did check for security cameras that night and didn’t just miss this big obvious camera that was pointed right at the four of them lol. But anyway she’s in a fresh shirt and she’s already going to pick up the meds that Arman managed to get for her– has it been a couple days, or is it literally just the next morning after their conversation?? I can imagine him working that fast for her. (Also did he text her or call her to tell her he got them? I need to know these things, show!) And lol at Fiona ordering her not to tell Arman about the blackmail; lbr we all know that talking to him about it was literally the first thing she was going to do. I’ve already said that I love that she goes to him about almost everything, but I really hope that this season we can see him needing her more, and her supporting him like he does for her. Based on some of the vague things said in interviews I think I might get that wish :P

Taking the matchbox was so unnecessary Garrett. You really can’t remember two words?? I like this other agent though, mostly because he has joined the ranks of the Garrett-draggers lol

Ugh poor Nadia trying to be all cool and tough for Arman’s benefit and then immediately dropping the act when he tells her how dire the situation really is. I am honestly really enjoying seeing more layers to her (even though liking her as a character makes my level of Armony shipping feel a little awkward haha) and I really do think they have a pretty amazing relationship. They have always had a different vibe to Armony– Armony is soulmate-level romantic, two people from vastly different lives who just fit each other and make each other better– whereas Arman and Nadia have always seemed more like bickering siblings, or comrades-in-arms. Their connection is based on a shared background, shared history, and shared drive; like Arman said, they both came from nothing and had dreams of becoming something, and for the last however many years, they have been a team in that goal. There’s absolutely love there, and attraction of course (how could there not be, they’re both smoking hot) and they would have likely remained together forever-- bickering and fighting and likely sleeping with other people, but also supporting each other and being each other’s person-- except then Arman met Thony, and it opened his eyes to the kind of connection he’d never even realised he could have. And yet, even so, he’s prepared to give up the very thing he wants so desperately– to give Thony up– because Nadia needs him, and he can’t abandon her, not like this. And honestly that choice will probably make Thony fall even more in love with him– bc seriously, imagine if he dropped Nadia right now (when their situation is so completely desperate) to try to be with Thony instead???? Thony would be like “nah man, I may be completely in love with you but I can’t be with someone who would turn his back on his family like that”. It would have been different if things were still as they were at the end of S1– if Arman had gotten safely out of jail with all the money still in their hands, then Nadia could have been given a sizeable chunk of it as well as the option to run part of the business, so she was still able to live the life she wanted to lead; if that had happened, then him leaving her to be with Thony would have actually been a genuine possibility. Still complicated and emotional and messy, but far more acceptable to all three of them than the situation they’re in now.

But anyway I’m getting distracted again. I’m honestly impressed that he said the medicine was for Thony, rather than hiding behind the idea that it’s for Luca, but I guess he feels he owes it to Nadia to be as honest as possible now, especially after her calling him out in the past for lying to her repeatedly about Thony. That’s growth, I guess? He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it rn though haha. Gotta say I love this argument though– they both know that Thony has a hold on him, and hearing Nadia call her his cleaning lady rather than ‘a’ or ‘the’ cleaning lady was oddly satisfying. Ngl I was half expecting her to say something like ‘your little girlfriend’ or something instead though, and maybe that was where his mind went too, because he immediately countered by calling her out on her going to her ex boyfriend lol. (Oh so you equate your connection to Thony with Nadia’s connection to someone she was once in love with? Interesting, Arman, very interesting.) Anyway bit unfair of her to claim that it was just her that got him out of jail– literally, neither woman could have done it without the other, which kind of symbolises how important they both are in Arman’s life– but I’ll forgive her bc she’s having a rough couple of weeks lol. Tbh I’m glad he gave her a hug, though I’m even more glad that that wasn’t the moment that Thony arrived at the office lol. She doesn’t need to be reminded that she’s fallen for a man who [she thinks] she can never have.

Speaking of Thony’s arrival, though, I love that she doesn’t hold back around either of them now; she all but tells them to get their grubby mitts off the medicine, and shuts them down cold at the suggestion of selling street drugs. Hell, she even has Nadia moving out of her way as she packs up the meds. And lol at Arman caught in the middle, trying to balance both women’s agendas as he gets pressured by Nadia and berated by Thony hahaha. We all know who’s really calling the shots here, and it ain’t our boy. But oh wow Thony is 100% lying through her teeth about the regular medicines making as much profit as addictive street drugs– especially when her whole plan was to sell the medicines to people who couldn’t afford to get them in the US. She’d be having to sell HUGE numbers of those medicines to make a good profit, unless she wanted to charge poor immigrants through the nose for them (which, like I said, was the opposite to her plan), whereas the street value of Oxy or Xanax would be about $20 and $5 per pill respectively (it’s generally around $50 and $10 here, but I’m just making a rough guess of what it would be in USD lol). I can’t imagine that she doesn’t know this, which means she is taking the gamble that they’ll just take her word for it and follow her plan instead. And while they do seem to, I could definitely see Nadia and Arman actually going behind her back and secretly using their supply line to get and sell street drugs– because of the dire money situation they’re in– and then Thony later finds out (most likely right when she and Arman are getting closer again) and that betrayal temporarily drives a wedge between her and Arman. But who knows. What I do know is that I love the imagery of Arman standing in the middle of the two women who are almost like mirrors of each other– both with a hand on the hip, but with Nadia’s other hand on the desk and Thony’s on the box of meds. Ugh the symbolismmm. The fact that Arman is looking at Thony as he says ‘together’ is just fine by me too lol

Excuse me, how dare this scene just start with the two of them just standing together waiting for Bosco?? I’ve seen the clip on twitter of him getting out of the caddy and Thony watching him with literally the thirstiest look we’ve ever seen from her (same, girl, same) and now it turns out that they freakin cut it??? I feel robbed. I need to see that moment, just like I need to know what they were talking about while they were standing there waiting. (Again, stop making me want to fic it, goddammit). Also I would like to point out that Thony has her arms crossed again (and he’s fiddling with his sunglasses)-- it really is so hard for you two to not be allowed to touch each other, huh?

I would like to make it known right now that I love Bosco. I wasn’t sure about him in 1x06– he did put Thony in the back of the van, after all, but he also seemed serious when he promised Arman he would take care of her– but now i am definitely a fan. Firstly he got significantly hotter (phew, that haircut and that smile suit you, sir), but I also just love him teasing Arman about basically being whipped by Thony lol. I would say he’s absolutely right, but honestly, Thony doesn’t even need to do any whipping. Arman legit just throws himself at her feet without any prompting whatsoever haha. Also speaking of looking hot– holy shit, Arman in that black tshirt and jeans, grinning at his friend?? Help me jesus. And that low sound he makes as he waves off Bosco’s hand????? Poor Thony’s gonna get heatstroke at any moment, and not from the desert sun lol. I love that he makes sure to signal to her to come with him as they head for the van, not leaving her there wondering what she should do or to just trail along awkwardly behind them. And then he lets her take the lead with the meds, both him and Bosco treating her as the expert. I am so happy that my TV is good enough to see the brief little smile on his face at her reaction to seeing the meds for Luca, because oh my heartttt. And then he immediately thanks Bosco for making her happy his help lol. Ngl the fact that the riskiness of doing this under Sin Cara’s nose has already been mentioned twice makes me worry for Bosco though…. They better not kill my boy Bosco just as I got attached to him lol

Oh Vinny for sure has the hots for Thony lol. And very understandable when she’s being all badass businesswoman/doctor like this lol. I still can’t see the clinic as being particularly lucrative, but I love that she’s doing it. Also I know I say this like every week but damn this soundtrack is good??

Yikes, like I said, not lucrative enough. 58k short even after selling thousands of dollars worth of jewellery and a car or two? What the hell will they do for next week’s payment, sell a kidney each? (Or some street drugs, maybe….?). Also definitely intrigued by the way Nadia was staring at thony– what ideas is she cooking up in that gorgeous head? (again, street drugs? lol) Also having her standing directly between Thony and Arman in the shot… more symbolism, or?

From one money counter to another. I love that Thony kept aside the 10k for Fi, and let’s be fair, handing it over wouldn’t have solved Arman’s problem, so I think it’s valid for her to be like ‘he’ll figure it out’ lol. He has Nadia to work as a team with; she has Fi. They both have to be loyal to their team right now. And sigh Thony again tries to be smart about it but Fi won’t listen, and you can see that Thony has simply decided to just support Fi no matter what, even if it’s not the best way to handle it. She’s slowly learning that she has to give up a bit of control now and then and just be there for the people who need her, even if she disagrees with them. How's that for character growth.

I wonder if these women ever think about how weird their life has gotten, considering they have a mob boss on speed dial and an FBI agent who is starting to become a regular visitor at their door lol. I did suspect Garrett might bring in Thony to help him with Maya, but ugh I don’t like that he knows about Fi getting out the money. Good thing the dude has zero issue with rule breaking– for a man who claims to be on the side of the law, he sure ignores it a lot of the time. Which lbr is very fortunate for Thony, so I’m cool with it lol (ngl, getting real over his deportation threats though)

I find it like unreasonably irritating that the sign for The Clergy uses a cross to represent both an H and an L lol. I am now reading it as The Chergy haha. Also damn I was pumped to see Thony in goth wear, but ah well, I’m still into this outfit (undoubtedly borrowed from Fi). I know we’re definitely going to see Thony more dressed up at some point in this season, and the important thing is Arman being there to see it haha, so I guess we can skip it for now. Also ngl the concept of bathroom attendants makes me so uncomfortable but damn that was a genius move on her part, and I love that she canonically has the most sensibly stocked handbag ever lol

Ugh I feel for my boy Arman, this shit with Robert is clearly killing him. And then to be forced to basically be Robert’s errand boy? Must feel like he’s fallen a long way, almost right back to where he started. I liked Nadia reaching for his hand, checking in with him, but ngl it was satisfying to see him kind of brush it off haha

Wait what room is this?? An ensuite off of Fi’s room? This is truly an excessive amount of mirrors (and sinks!) lol

I so badly want Thony to get hit on by at least one woman in this bar lol. (It’s been far too long since her blatant popularity at Nadia’s party in 1x01 lol). But I guess I’ll have to content myself with the fact that she and Maya have more chemistry in this bathroom scene than either woman has had in any scene with Garrett hahaha. But oh Thony you really fell for that old fake name trick? Lol. BUT OKAY HOLD UP. “Who sent you? Was it Kamdar?” Holy shit. Not Cortez, KAMDAR. I did not see that coming, and oh man everything just got real incestuous all of a sudden– so Garrett has asked Thony (a person of interest in his current case) to check on his ex, who is caught up with a drug ring (which was his old case), a ring which apparently involves Robert, who happens to be Nadia’s ex, and who has now forced Arman (and by extension, Thony) into doing business with him. Damn, that is one tangled web and I am honestly really excited about it?? Also oooh if Arman and Nadia do what I suspect and start selling street drugs, then Robert will be sure to find out and get pissed off, and that would be one way for Thony to find out about it. Man I would actually love to see that, as upsetting as the ensuing Armony fight would be. For now though I really hope that Thony mentions her suspicions about Kamdar to Arman, but given that that would require explaining the Garrett angle (and we all know how Arman responds whenever Garrett is mentioned haha) maybe she won’t. Speaking of Garrett, Maya’s line about him not sending people like Thony into places they shouldn’t be definitely gives a little insight into Maya’s own experience as a CI…

Ugh Arman really needs to tone down the sexy gangster vibe a little, that leather jacket makes it very hard for me to focus. Also the “Are you seriously going to hit an old man?” and “I’ve done worse”-- okay I immediately want to hear about every single instance of those worse things lol. For… reasons. Gotta hand it to this incredibly vanilla-looking son though lol, not only did he manage to sneak up on Arman (that’s a bit of a stretch tbh) but he legit took him on with a tennis racquet?? I kind of respect that haha. And ngl I enjoy how swiftly and perfunctorily Arman neutralises him, like this is just another day in the office. Just saying though, that oxygen tubing would have for sure snapped under that kind of strain lol. It is not exactly designed to be hardy stuff. But ugh the look on Arman’s face as the son runs to get the money, my poor boy hates having to do this :(

They really highlighted the ‘you are on camera’ sign in this motel office lol. Which means thony was on camera when she went in there that night, and now Fi is on camera too… and a lot of other people, apparently? lol. Also other than being a creepy perv, the amount of animal heads on the walls also immediately makes me like this guy even less…

Okay Nadia being really into football is very hot haha. And oooh I love that as Arman walked in with the money, hating what he’d been forced to do, he would have seen Nadia and Robert smiling and sharing a drink at the bar. No wonder he threw the money down like that and practically dragged her out of there haha, like he didn't give up his closeness with Thony just for Nadia to cozy up with Robert!

Oh Fiona. If there was an award for making bad decisions, you’d definitely be in the running lol. And oh the naivete of thinking he’d delete the video… and of trying to threaten him with going to the cops about him filming customers, when that very footage would get Chris caught for Marco’s manslaughter? Oh honey. The physical struggle was hard to watch but omg that crack over the head and that scream?? Comedy gold haha. Poor woman just cannot catch a break lately (nor can any of our faves, tbh.) And now I guess we wait for next week to see if he’s actually dead (if so, wow, the felonies just keep piling up for this family lol) or if she just caused him to have a very impromptu nap lol. Either way, can't wait to see Arman come and rescue her and earn some points as her future brother in law lol

#The Cleaning Lady #Armony #TCL recaps #oh lord what have I done

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fictionalabyss · 4 years ago

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Mated : Funkytown.

Pairings : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader (mentioned), Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Word count : 2,793

Written for : @spnabobingo

Square : Fuck or die

Warning : Angst ahead! a/b/o dynamics, character death talked about, depression, sickness, really bad heat, dying, minor smut, claiming, guilt

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Part 3 of Mated.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

It had been weeks since Dean had died. Weeks of misery and mourning. Alone.

Sam had been around just to tell you, a quick “Dean’s dead.” before he disappeared while you broke down. You hadn’t heard from him since. You shut down, shut the whole world out while you mourned the loss of your mate.

And then your heat hit.

With no mate to get you through it, you tried to do it on your own, but you were still in mourning, and it was a bad one. You’d never had a heat so painful. Three weeks after your mate died, you were bedridden, weak, barely able to move. You couldn’t even make it to the shower, let alone the kitchen. Everything hurt, everything ached and burned, sweat pouring out of every pore. All you could do was cry. Cry and beg for relief that wasn’t coming.

When you hit seven days in, with no end in sight, you couldn’t do it anymore, could barely even stay awake. You needed it to stop, needed help. With a shaking hand, you reached for your phone on the nightstand next to your bed and weakly hit a number you hadn’t called in a long time.

It went to voicemail.

“P-please.. Sam. I-” you couldn’t stop the tears. “I’m scared… I can’t- I need suppressants, or.. I don’t- I’m scared, Sam. I’m so scared. I-” you swallowed and said the only thing you could think to say, something Dean had told you would always have him come running home. “Funkytown.” The phone fell from your hand, too weak to hold it anymore, and you curled into a ball and cried.

When ringing the bell got him nowhere, he picked the lock far too easily. He was going to have to have a chat with you about that, about getting better locks. Sam pushed open the door and stepped inside. Before the door behind him even clicked shut, he knew something was wrong. Something was off. The house was dead silent, not a creak, like no one was home. He could still smell you, but it smelled… wrong.

He was running up the stairs, taking them two at a time, following the faint barely there smell to a thick bedroom door. He didn’t stop his stride, just opened the door and burst right in-

He froze when the smell hit him. It was you, but it was wrong, it was sick. The normally sweet smell of an omega in heat had turned sour. It was revolting. It smelt like death. If Sam hadn’t been used to the smells of corpses, burning or not from hunting, he’s sure he’d have lost his breakfast by now. “Jesus.” he mumbled, stepping closer to the bed you were curling up in. He could tell just by looking at you that you didn’t need suppressants, you needed a fucking doctor.

He scooped you up in his arms and you were nothing but dead weight, and yet, lighter than he expected, lighter than he’d remembered you being back in college when you’d drink too much and he’d piggy back you along the streets back to campus. You seemed to flinch at the feel of his skin on yours, but he could smell fresh slick and it smelt just as sickeningly wrong as the room. “Dean..” your voice was weak. His eyes shot down to your face, eyes fighting to open and losing.

“No, it’s me.” He answered as he carried you into the bathroom and lowered you into the tub before turning on the water.

“Sam?”

Your eyes finally managed to open and you were looking at him, so he gave you a small smile. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“You- you came..” you breathed it out like a sigh of relief. “I didn’t think..” you voice trailed off, eyes falling closed again.

“I’ll always come when you need me.” he told you even though he wasn’t sure you heard him until you weakly nodded.

You could feel warm water starting to pool around you, feel it wash over you as Sam splashed it over your skin to wipe away at the sweat that caked your skin. It hurt to feel him touching you, he wasn’t your mate, each brush of his skin on yours caused a fresh wave of pain, but at the same time, he was an Alpha, and you were in heat so it also brought on an ache in your core and more slick. You couldn’t fight either, you just slipped back into darkness as wet warmth surrounded you.

“When has she last eaten?”

You woke up hearing a man’s voice answering the question you had heard in a dream, and for a moment, hope filled you. But only for a moment. It wasn’t Dean, that wasn’t his voice, that wasn’t his scent. It was familiar, though. “I don’t know, she called me yesterday, left a voicemail crying, said she needed suppressants..”

“She needs her mate.” That was a voice you didn’t know, that was new. There was a stranger in your room. It took a bit of fighting, but you managed to get your eyes open to see someone leaning over you, poking and prodding, giving you a once over. The stethoscope around their neck was the dead giveaway. A doctor.

“He’s dead.” Sam answered from where he stood out of your line of sight.

“That explains it. First heat after the death?” Sam hummed. “It's always the worst. Some don’t survive it.” The doctor sighed and stood.

“What can you do for her?”

“Nothing.” The doctor looked towards your feet, his back going to you. “There’s nothing I can do, you asked for an Omega specifically. If you’d have asked for an Alpha-” Sam growled at that and the doctor ducked his head for a moment. “She needs her mate.”

“Like I said, he’s dead.”

“Then she needs a new one.” The room was quiet. “If you want her to live-”

“How long? How long does she have?”

You saw the doctor's shoulders shrug. “Honestly? I’d say if she doesn’t have a mate in about.. 24 hours, she’s not going to make it.” Sam cursed. “48 tops, and that’s really pushing it. Someone should have been called in sooner, she’s too far gone.”

“I would have if I had known.” Sam growled threateningly, and the doctor's hands went up.

“Look, getting her cleaned up and out of that room, that was good. But you need to get her to eat.”

“She can’t even fucking stay awake!”

“Exactly why she needs to eat. She’s got nothing in her system. Force her to, even if it’s just a soup broth. Don’t give her the choice.” Your eyes started to fall shut again, your lids too heavy to keep open. Thinking about it, if you had called Sam yesterday, it had to have been about 2 or 3 days since you’d been able to make it to your kitchen. That could not be helping things.

“You obviously don’t know her if you think she can be forced into anything.” Sam mumbled.

“Try. It’s that, or find someone to mate her and fast.”

Sam sighed. “She’d hate that even more.”

“Sadly, that’s all I’ve got for you.”

“Thanks anyways, doc.”

You heard movement, a zipper being closed and then “Good luck. I’ve got your number, I’ll call and check in tomorrow. Even though there’s not much I can do, I’d still-”

“Thanks, doc.”

Quiet followed the footsteps out of the room.

You shifted, and the pain brought you back to awake, curling in on yourself to try and relieve it. You weren’t sure how long had passed, days or hours, but judging by the sight of Sam when you opened your eyes, you’d say minutes. He was deep in thought, likely not having moved at all since the doctor left. His arms across his chest as he stared down at the floor, his ass settled on a dresser with his ankles crossed. He was nervously chewing on his bottom lip, something you can’t remember seeing him do before. Judging by the dark piece of furniture as well as the artwork on the wall behind him, you were in the spare bedroom.

“You’re really here.” Sam's head snaps up, eyes on you. “I thought I was dreaming it.. Am I really dying?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, closing your eyes again. “I need you to eat.”

You shook your head. “Not hungry.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I’m sorry for calling you.” you told him quietly.

“What?”

“You can go, you probably have more important things to do..”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” he snapped, pushing off the dresser. “You fucking called me here, you said Funkytown knowing I’d come running. Now you want me to just leave? You’re dying.”

“You can’t save me, Sam. You can’t stop it.”

“You were scared. I came. I’m not leaving.”

“Would you just let me die in peace!?” you snapped, eyes opening to glare at him and he froze, the expression on his face changing.

“Why are you suddenly so eager to die?”

“Like I said, you can’t save me..” Sam watched you as you curled tighter into yourself with a whimper as another wave of pain hit, fresh slick leaking from between your thighs. “And I’ll finally see him again.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Don’t-”

“It doesn’t fucking work like that!” Sam yelled, anger coming back as he stormed closer to the bed.

“JUST LET ME HAVE HOPE, SAM!”

“Fuck your hope!” he snapped. “Okay? And fuck you for calling me in just to tell me to leave. Do you really think you’re the only one missing him? He’s my fucking brother! He’s my blood! He’s all I had left! Him and you.” You closed your eyes again as tears began to fall. “You think if it was that simple I wouldn’t have just fucking ended it? He made a fucking deal.”

“So I’ll make one too, I’ll-”

“You can’t even get out of fucking bed.” Sam spat. “How the hell are you going to make it to a crossroads?”

“I don’t know, okay! I don’t know! All I know is I can’t do this! I can’t live without him!”

“You didn’t even fucking try.”

“Just leave, Sam.”

“No. You know I won't, that's exactly why you called me. You’ve got other friends, other people to call, but you called me.”

“Because despite how you pretend I don’t exist, you were still my best friend.” Your eyes opened to look at him, meet his eyes and you hoped and prayed he could see all the pain you were carrying from losing Dean and him both. “I’m sorry I called you, okay. I’m sorry. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why!? I heard the doctor, Sam! I heard what it’ll take! 24 hours to find a new mate? You said it yourself I can’t even move!”

“I’m not going to leave you to suffer alone. I can make you comfortable, keep you company, I-”

“YOU’RE NOT STAYING TO WATCH ME DIE!” you screamed. “Not after you had to watch him die. I can’t do that to you. Please.”

Sam kneeled down next to your bed, bringing him closer, and he ran his fingers along tangled hair, just pushing it back, to sooth you more than anything else. “Then let me help you.”

“You can’t. I know you can’t.”

“I can.” Sam swallowed. “You won’t like it, but I can.” You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut at another wave of pain and slick. “You called me to help you. Let me help you.”

“Please stop- stop touching me. It hurts. It makes everything hurt.”

Sam leaned forward, his lips pressing to your sweaty forehead and you started to cry all over again. “I’m not leaving. Not without trying. I owe it to Dean.”

You shook your head as Sam got up, moving over you and settling between your thighs. “You’re not him.” you cried before Sam’s lips pressed to yours, forcing a pained whine out of you. One of Sam’s forearms was pressed into the mattress, holding him up while his other hand worked at opening and freeing him from his jeans as his lips continued to move over your lips, jaw, and throat. “You’re not him.”

“Let me try.” the words whispered against your throat as you felt him move through your slick, tip of his cock sliding deliciously along your clit before he lined himself up. You never bothered with underwear while in heat, it was pointless and apparently Sam had figured the same when he re-dressed you after your bath.

He pushed forward, and you cried out, head going further into the pillows underneath it as your back arched off the bed. Your hands went to his shoulders, pushing, scratching, punching. You wanted to make him stop, it hurt so bad, he wasn't Dean, he wasn't your mate, but at the same time- he felt so fucking good buried deep inside you.

Sam gave slow and deliberate thrusts, and every thrust forward had you face twist in pain. "Let me try." he asked once more against the side of your neck "I can't lose you, too. Let me try.". Your only response was your eyes closing and your fists no longer pummeling at him. I wasn't really much of an answer, but Sam understood.

It was common for a second mate to break the mark of the first with their own claim. But something in you couldn't let go, couldn't let it happen. When you felt Sam going for it, you stopped him. "Not there.. please.. anywhere but there. I-" you couldn't even begin to explain. "Just… please.."

"Okay." He kissed your lips delicately, his own show of understanding before he tailed down to the other shoulder.

You relaxed a little against him, not fully though, every move he made still brought so much pain, but knowing Dean's mark would remain, that you would keep that reminder of him always, it was calming. Not many Alphas would grant that wish.

Suddenly, a scream ripped through you as his teeth sank deep into your skin. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to pull him closer. Everything exploded, like you were suddenly alive again. The excruciating pain wasn't fully gone, but the pleasure-

Oh the pleasure. Sam's pace picked up, his thrust getting a little rougher and it felt so fucking good. As good as he felt hitting deep, the drag of him pulling back felt just as good and as your scream died down, a fresh gush of slick poured out as waves of an orgasm tore through you.

"There you are." Sam mumbled against the bite mark, taking a deep breath in. "There's the smell I love so much."

You tangled your fingers into his hair and pulled, bringing his face up to yours so you could look him in the eyes. They were beautiful. Not the bright green you had loved from Dean, but greens and browns in perfect harmony with each other. "Bring me back." You were begging, tears in your eyes as you looked into his. "I don't want to die."

"I know."

You were staring up at the ceiling, Sam snoring gently next to you. Two rounds before the pain of your heat finally started to feel more normal. You had sighed with relief when his knot had swelled and locked him in you, but now, in the quiet of the room with the post sex haze faded away, relief wasn't what you felt.

What you felt was guilt. Like you were betraying something or someone. Dean. Dean was dead and you were finding pleasure in his brother and you felt so much guilt. And weakness. You were too weak to live without him, too weak to deny Sam. Weeks. Not months, not years, weeks, and you were mated to his brother.

"I'm sorry." You whispered into the darkness of the room. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough." You rolled onto your side, your back towards Sam as you started to tear up. You couldn't let him see you crying, couldn't let him see the guilt. You didn't want it eating at him as well.

But it was like he knew, like he just knew you needed comfort, because he rolled over, putting his chest to your back as he wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close.

You tried to let his warmth wash over you, tried to remember how bad you had wanted this year's ago. You had it now, you had Sam.

But even as Sam's mark burned hot on your skin, a part of you just really wanted Dean back.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging : Dean - @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural @deandreamernp

Sam - @evyiione @hoboal87

SPN - @sandlee44 @just-another-busy-fangirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @deanandsamsbitch @deans-baby-momma @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh @ksgeekgirl @hobby27 @maddiepants @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn @fandom-princess-forevermore @kalesrebellion @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted @kazkingdom @babypink224221 @emoryhemsworth @ilovefanfic86 @pie-with-hunters @anaelsbrunette @lazinessisalliknow @feelmyroarrrr @letsdisneythings @cdwmtjb8 @notyourtypicalrose @xostephanie @ilovedeanspie @defenderrosetyler @amandamdiehl

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cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

Text

champagne problems, ch.11

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Eleven: I Know It’s Over: Things get a little more clearer as you deal with the pain Spencer caused. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: swearing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, jealousy, talk of breakup/s, mentions of alcohol consumption / intoxication, serious serious angst, this whole series is a real slow burn.

series masterlist

A/N: everyone go thank @ellesgreenaway for getting me out of my writing rut just in time to get this chapter done! and as always, i wanted to reiterate how fucking grateful i am that y'all are reading, and liking, this little story! it means the world to me! also, i didn't reread this so there may some mistakes ill fix later, sorry!!

People love weekends. They’re like a mini holiday. A break from the tedious and repetitive cycle that is Monday to Friday. Weekends are time spent away from the office, your profession and whatever that entails. They are time spent away from completing menial tasks. A break.

Saturdays and Sundays help regain all of the lost energy. When people get caught up in everyday life, weekends remind them to enjoy the simple things. They gives the opportunity to try new things, visit family and friends, or allow to simply spend some time alone. People love weekends.

Your weekend however, was an utter blur.

Aiding a killer hangover on Saturday, you opted to spend the day in bed. A plastic bucket within your reach and a bottle of water on the side table. You slept a lot. Partially to ease the headache, but mainly to ease the pain you were experiencing in your chest. The heartache.

The only thing you could remember from the night before was Spencer completely shattering your hopes and dreams, and the first six shots of tequila you took after at a nearby bar. You weren't entirely sure how you got home; the next morning Ethan clarified he picked you up after the bartender rang him using your phone. Not one of your proudest moments.

Your lack of motivation carried onto Sunday. The grief you were experiencing was not unfamiliar, after all Spencer’s broken up with you before. Although this time the agony that accompanied it felt a lot more intense. You couldn't move, or eat, or even shower. You were frozen. Stuck to the bed as if it was your only lifeline.

Thankfully Ethan was working both days. In your eyes, he was too preoccupied to notice something was wrong. Unbeknown to you however, he knew exactly the reason behind your melancholy.

The weekend soon ended, almost as soon as it began. Monday morning rolled around and with it the encouragement to get out of bed. Not like you wanted to. If you had it your way, you would never leave the comfort and safety of your duvet again. You knew however, you couldn't stay home without at least some of your colleagues questioning your absence, asking what was wrong. No. It was time to face reality.

Time to face Spencer.

The brunette doctor was sat at his desk. He arrived to work today earlier than usual, about four hours early to be exact. He made his usual cup of coffee and since then he hasn't moved an inch, just staring silently at his phone.

It wasn't something he done often, honestly he only carried the thing around for work purposes. But something happened that he couldn't quite get over.

On Saturday morning, Spencer woke up to a message left on his voicemail. A message from you.

At first it was hard to decipher what you were saying, or rather what you were mumbling. Between the drunken hiccups, slurred speech, and obnoxious background noise, Spencer initially thought it was a butt dial. It must have been, right? He was after breaking your heart for a second time, why would you leave him a voicemail?

However, hearing your melodic tone just saying his name, prompted Spencer to listen to the message again. It was then he really heard the distorted words coming out of your mouth.

“Spencerrrrrr, I uh I don't believe yo-ou. I know-w in uh my hearrrt-t you d-didn't mean it.” Hiccup. “P...p-please let’ssss forgetuh abo-ut it.” Hiccup. “I-I love youh-uh anddd I kno-ow you love meeee. I jussst kno-w.” Hiccup. “I-I me-an you uh couldn't-t even look me-e in the eye when you sss-said it.... please-e S-Spencer-”

The message cuts off and he’s left dumbfounded.

Blood drained from his face. The voicemail registered in his brain and he suddenly felt dizzy. Nauseous even. His hands began to tremble in his lap, and he swore if he wasn't sitting down he would have fainted.

By Monday, Spencer had listened to the voicemail a painstakingly two-hundred and eleven times. He had it memorised, and yet he kept playing it over and over again just to hear your voice.

As he sat at his desk, waiting for his colleagues to arrive, he wondered whether you remembered sending it. Truthfully, he hoped you didn't. It would be easier to move on that way - as if moving on from you was an option.

The glass door opened and he heard a faint sound of footsteps walk across the bullpen. Footsteps Spencer would honestly recognise anywhere. Taking in a deep breath, he glanced up from his phone and slightly turned his head, his gaze landing on you.

The air caught in Spencer’s throat, the voicemail instantly replaying in his head.

He wondered what you were thinking. Simply by looking at you he could tell you were in pain. Pain he caused, and he hated himself for it. Having spent countless hours over Saturday and Sunday rethinking the situation, he knew he made a mistake. He should have never given into Ethan’s smug demands. And even if, he should have told you what happened. Leave the choice up to you, as it was in the first place.

It was too late now to fix this, Spencer knew even if you remembered sending the voicemail you wouldn't listen to what he had to say anyway. Selfishly, he wanted you to look at him. He wanted to gaze into your eyes as the drunken message replayed in his mind yet again.

And although you could feel his eyes on you, you couldn't bring yourself to meet his stare. No. The heartache would only intensify. This was a mistake. You should have stayed home. With a blank expression, you placed your bag on your desk and hurried in the direction of the office kitchenette.

Spencer on the other hand followed you with his gaze. Every fibre of his being screamed to follow you, to talk to you. But he was completely frozen and remained glued to his own chair. Once again, a true display of cowardliness.

By lunch time, the whole team picked up on the odd dynamic between you and the handsome doctor. Two people that spent every waking moment together were no longer speaking to one another. It didn't take a profiler to see something was wrong.

You hid in Penelope’s lair with the bubbly blonde and Tara. Enjoying a couple minutes of peace away from the prying eyes of everyone you worked with, most importantly however, away from Spencer.

“So chicken, are you going to tell us what’s wrong?” Garcia enquired, taking a mouthful of her lunch. “Because a blindman could see something is off, and don't you dare telling me I’m delusional or something.”

“Penelope is right, Y/N. Last time you were this silent and upset was when Spencer was in prison.”

You let out a deep sigh at the sound of his name. It was no use hiding your feelings from them, they would figure it out eventually. Plus these were the people you trusted more than anything in the world. If you couldn't tell them, then who could you tell what was going on?

“It’s something similar.” You mumbled, avoiding their gaze. “Just much much worse this time...”

“Well whatever it is, you can tell us. We’re here for you.” Penelope chimed, and reached out her hand to grab yours. She gave it a gentle squeeze and shot you a reassuring smile.

“Yes, exactly. We will support you through anything, you know that.” Tara added nodding along.

You sniffled. What were becoming all too familiar tears formed in the corners of your eyes, and you knew you would break down at any given second. Taking in a long breath, you began to tell the two girls everything that’s happened since your engagement. They listened attentively, never turning their attention away from you. As they listened, they both held your hands and took turns whispering ‘it’s okay’ or ‘take your time’.

“I’m going to kill our resident genius. He won't know what’s coming.” Penelope murmured after you finished in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of your lips twitched ever so slightly upwards as you wiped the tears away from your face.

“What are you going to do?” Tara asked after a congenial moment of silence.

“Ehm...” You cleared your throat. “S-Spencer wants nothing to do with me, but uhm... I after everything I c-can’t, I just can't be with Ethan. I can’t-t.”

The girls both nodded their heads, and even though they understood exactly what you meant by what you were saying, you still felt like you had to say the words aloud. For your own sake.

“So, uhm, I-I’m going to break up with Ethan. I-I’m going to end the engagement.” You stated, and even though your heart still ached, you felt as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You felt free.

And I know it's over - still I cling I don't know where else I can go

A/N: as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @ellesgreenaway

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #spencer reid story #spencer reid songfic #spencer reid x reader

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skrltwtch · 4 years ago

Text

Scent

Prompt: a & b have been friends since they were children — but they’ve gone their separate ways during college. during that time apart, muse a and b were attacked by a vampire and werewolf respectively, undergoing a transformation they never expected. they kept it a secret from each other, hoping that this doesn’t change their friendship — until they meet up over summer and … holy fucking shit why do you SMELL like that? (Source in master list)

Word count: 5,123 words

Genre: Romance, supernatural

Warnings: Blood

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Impatience composed the rhythm my fingers were drumming on the table. Late. As always. The optimist in me would say it was comforting to know that some things remained the same after all these years. The pessimist in me, the unspoken captain of this ship, wondered why it had to be this gross habit that weathered the winds of change. He suggested this time and place. He had been insistent on meeting in the evening. I didn’t mind either way. I simply figured that being fussy about what time to meet meant that he’d put some effort into being on time.

Because the bar had a flood of new patrons and a dearth of ones contented enough to leave, I went inside and got a table for us first. I didn’t want to have to think of a new place for us to go if the place was packed by the time he got here — whenever that’d be. Time check: fifteen minutes and counting. He was such a lovely friend, and may God never fail to bless every brown hair on his head for every second of his life, but this was infuriating. Not even a text to tell me where he was and what was holding him up. Morgan, please!

His arrival melted away all the indignation I was feeling — and made every hair on the back of my neck stand.

No, that was the pins and needles from sitting cross-legged for too long.

‘Ellie?’ Confusion squinched his eyes. I expected this. The last time he saw me was in college, i.e., some twenty kilograms ago. I wouldn’t have pitched a fit if he’d thought the pictures I used were the result of Photoshop, Facetune, and/or angles. In contrast, he looked exactly as he did when the pictures he used were taken — in college, albeit maybe with a little less baby fat in his face than I’d remembered. Damn. Well, how much could a person change in three years? It wasn’t like he ever needed to lose an ounce of weight, too, let alone twenty kilograms.

When I confirmed I was the same Ellie he’d had the privilege of knowing since childhood, he enveloped me in a hug. I did what had been conditioned into me by the ‘dog’ that I told people was responsible for the scar on my arm the time I went jogging at night because I thought the full moon was bright enough to keep me safe. People were more keen on lecturing me for daring to have that train of thought as a woman in London than questioning what kind of dog it was exactly that could leave a scar like the kind I had, perfectly vindicating my choice of cover for what really happened.

His scent was like a bat to my face. I’d never smelled anyone like this before. People smelled like their diets, their emotions, their likes and dislikes, their best and worst memories: all that made them, them. The scents I’d have associated with him would’ve been the crisp brininess of sea air and the comforting sweetness of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. Instead, he smelled like blood, yet it didn’t smell like it belonged to him — or in him. I was also discerning a discomforting whiff of inhumanity, like something in him had been switched off. On top of that, he was clammy to the touch, and, most damningly of all, perhaps — no, no ‘perhaps’, as I pressed my ear to his chest, I couldn’t hear a heartbeat.

I put on my best poker face and released myself from his embrace. ‘You’re late.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’ He sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. ‘God, it is so good to see you. It’s been so long. And look at you! I couldn’t recognise you. (Is it gauche to say that was why I was late?) I only knew — I only had a feeling it was you because —’

‘Because …?’

He clicked his tongue. ‘That’s not important. Listen, I don’t know what I was thinking, asking to meet in a crowded bar … Do you want to go somewhere quieter? So we can talk better without having to shout?’

I downed the last of my drink, which I’d been forced to get earlier than I wanted so the staff wouldn’t kick me out for taking up a table in one of the more desirable corners of their establishment. I agreed with Morgan on the condition that he thought of where to go next. I hated crowds to begin with, and now that I was hypersensitive to all that the five senses encompassed, crowds were, to put it simply, a fucking nightmare. I should’ve put a kibosh on his suggestion to meet at a bar when he made it. I’d be comparing apples and oranges here, but not liking crowds was normal, whereas smelling and feeling like a dead person wasn’t.

We went for ice cream. The first thing he asked me was how I lost the weight. Had we not met on an app meant for matchmaking, his first question would likely have been something else entirely, something to do with what it was that had us seeing each other for the first time since college. I told him what I did to get in shape, which was to watch what I ate and move farther and for longer than the trips I made from my room to the kitchen or bathroom, or from my desk to the pantry or washroom, throughout the day. What I left out was how I’d been maintaining despite having ordered something as indulgent as three heaping scoops of gelato with chocolate brownie pieces and hot fudge sauce: catch something from an animal bite that counted an enhanced metabolism needed to sustain monthly bodily trauma among one of its many symptoms. It really was easy as that.

We opted for takeout and a walk around Hyde Park to pad out our evening. The open space did nothing to defuse his strange scent. It was all I could focus on, and I needed all the brain cells I could get to the office on such short notice focus on our conversation. We’d gotten the answers to simple questions about our lives over text prior to tonight: what we did after college, what we were doing now, how our families were doing, so on and so forth. You know, small talk bullshit. I hadn’t doubted that we’d broach the subject of our break from each other at some point during our reconnection. The elephant had made itself comfortable in the room the instant I received the notification he’d swiped right on me. The thing was, the elephant couldn’t stop another one of its ilk from invading its space, and now they were both arguing over which one of them deserved our attention better.

The almost pristine three-layered sundae drenched in strawberry sauce in Morgan’s hand provided the perfect icebreaker for me to possibly appease either elephant. ‘Are you okay, Morgan?’ I said. ‘You’ve barely touched your ice cream.’ Conversely, I was halfway through mine, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had hot fudge sauce smeared across my lips.

It wasn’t only his restraint from inhaling his ice cream, the single course of action the Morgan I knew, the one who wouldn’t be smelling like a mortuary, would’ve carried out ages ago. He had been looking out of sorts the entire evening. Even softballs were answered with skittishness and reserve. Really, why’d he agree to meet if he wasn’t entirely over what happened all those years ago? If that was what this was about, that is. Did seeing me in person make him realise that it wasn’t the best of ideas to attempt to rekindle a friendship that’d turned awkward from differing expectations? It didn’t bother me in any way, but that was easy for me to say, considering the role I played in all this.

‘I’m fine.’ He gulped down a giant spoonful of ice cream without flinching. He and I understood the concept of ‘fine’ very differently. ‘Ellie … we’re friends, right?’

He’d wanted to be more than at one point.

‘Yeah,’ I said as deadpan as I could to prevent him from reading too much into my answer. I mean, I would if I were him.

‘We can tell each other anything.’

We sure did.

‘Promise me you won’t take this the wrong way,’ he continued.

I stared at him blankly. Caveats never came before anything good.

‘… Why do you smell like that?’

Wow, what the fuck. I should be the one asking that question, not him!

‘Like what?’ Still as deadpan as humanly possible. Disregard the fact that I hadn’t been human in a while.

‘Like … fuck, I can’t. This was a bad idea.’

‘No, tell me. Like what?’

‘Like the forest. Moss. Tree bark. Leaves. Dirt. And a little bit of raw meat.’ There were no pauses between his words, though the sounds were disparate enough to identify them as actual words. ‘No, a lot of raw meat. No, forget I said anything. Sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.’

‘Just what has gotten into you, period? Why do you smell like spoilt wine — like blood?’ I wanted to ask as well why he didn’t seem to have a heartbeat. I remembered in time that a stethoscope was required to detect that sort of thing, and I had no business owning one. I wouldn’t even know where to get one, short of robbing the doctor the next time I had to go in for a check-up.

‘Something happened to us, didn’t it? Other than the obvious.’

‘I think so. Say it together on the count of three?’ I needed the countdown to convince myself that whatever had made him like this hadn’t made him cruel. He hadn’t said or done anything that’d wound me. No, what was I thinking? This was Morgan I was talking about. What sacrilege to think he could hurt a living being. I should apologise to him for this.

He agreed to my proposition.

I started the countdown: ‘One — two — three —’

‘I’m a vampire.’

‘I’m a werewolf.’

Together: ‘What?’

‘Are you messing with me?’ he said.

‘Are you messing with me?’

‘Have I ever?’

He had a point. I really needed to apologise to him. ‘How did it happen?’ Why play dumb? I turned into a hulking wolf-woman hybrid once a month. There were obviously others like me. It stood to reason that vampires would exist as well.

‘I … met someone after college. She and I had … stuff in common. I thought she was kidding when she asked if she could feed on me the first time. I let her anyway, and so much about her made sense immediately. I asked her to turn me eventually. Being vampires together was fun at first … and then it wasn’t. I don’t regret it, though. Okay, I do regret not being able to really enjoy food anymore.’ He cast a wistful stare in the direction of his sundae. It was a milkshake by now. ‘You?’

‘I was bitten while I was hiking at night. It was an accident. He’ — I paid no attention to the wince he made — ‘realised what he did and brought me to safety. He revealed himself to me the next day. He taught me everything about being a werewolf. Of course, one thing led to another, and …’

‘He was your ex,’ he said stiffly. For the first time tonight, I smelled something other than blood on him: bitterness.

‘Yes, the one I told you about on Tinder.’ Because he asked. His responses in that part of the conversation, as brief as it was, had borne little to no emotion. Jude and I ended things on a good note. I made that clear to Morgan. There was nothing for him — as a friend — to have strong feelings about. ‘Please, Morgan.’ Us coming across each other and reconnecting on a dating app meant — was supposed to mean — nothing.

‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I’m sorry for what happened in college. I’m over it, I promise. The time and distance apart helped. I don’t want us to not be friends anymore because of this — because of what I did. I’m happy we got to meet again after so long … and after everything that happened.’

‘It’s okay, Morgan. I wasn’t — I’m not — upset about what happened.’ I wasn’t really anything about it. Okay, I might have been surprised that the roles had been as they were: Morgan glowed up toward the end of secondary school, a development that didn’t go unnoticed by most of the female population wherever he went, whereas I was pudgy, socially awkward, and not the right amount of weird for it to be seen as quirky, and would therefore be likely to latch on to my sole source of male attention. (I was now two out of three of those things.) ‘Things happen. We don’t get to control this kind of thing. I’m happy, too, that you’re back. I missed you. I’m happy you got to work things out and want to continue being friends. Let’s just put this behind us and move on, okay?’

I hugged him. Relief and cheer emanated from him, alleviating the musty scent that made sense to belong to a vampire.

‘I missed you, too. On the bright side, it made the vampire–werewolf confession easier to stomach, didn’t it?’ His grin revealed pointed canines.

I chuckled. We could compare our fangs sometime. ‘What do you do for food?’

He guzzled the entirety of his sundae-milkshake in one drag. I envied the apparent departure of the concept of brain freeze from him. I should learn more about vampire lore from him and see what Hollywood had gotten right and wrong. (It was mostly the latter for werewolves: we were underrepresented and misrepresented. I just could never get a fair shake on the big screen.) ‘You’d be surprised by how well vampires have modernised and worked the Internet to their advantage. Blood bag delivery services, forums and apps for vampires and … vampire enthusiasts to connect. How about you? What do you do on full moons?’

‘I drive out to the woods whenever I transform — whenever I want to. That’s a thing.’ Jude and I spent a lot of our nights together as wolves. I did miss that sometimes. Jude never prepared me for how lonely being a werewolf could be until it was too late. ‘I hunt. I play. I explore. I haven’t killed anyone to the best of my knowledge.’

‘I want to make a “good girl” joke, but you can literally tear me from limb to limb.’ I nodded with a slight air of pride. ‘This is so fascinating. Vampires are pretty straightforward. What you see in movies and on TV is what you get — mostly.’ Ah, hell. ‘Hey, can I tag along whenever you transform? So I can learn how to hunt animals. Blood bags are actually kind of shitty, and I’m trying to keep biting people to a minimum. I — um — I don’t want to accidentally go too far and turn or kill someone.’

I was deeply relieved that he was still the same caring, thoughtful person I knew in spite of the faint unfeelingness I sniffed earlier. I wouldn’t think twice if it were another vampire: maybe that was what was needed for them to survive. I mean … who was I to judge? I gave in to feral thoughts occasionally. Given a choice, the only thing I’d choose to hunt was the perfect red velvet cake. But this was Morgan, the same person I needed to apologise to for thinking he’d say something mean to make me feel bad on purpose.

‘Of course, I’d love to show you the ropes! Just don’t judge my wolf form, okay?’ I said.

‘Shut up. I’m sure you look great. Would you prefer being called cute or ferocious?’

‘Both, please.’

‘I figured. Can you believe I was afraid to tell you about this? I didn’t know how you’d react, especially after …’

‘Same.’ The club that knew what I was, was a highly exclusive one, consisting of only two members at the moment and for the foreseeable future. I didn’t dare tell anyone else. Just how would this come up in a normal conversation? ‘I know we can tell each other anything.’ We did. We were in a world where asking a friend to be more than friends was less cause for concern for one’s mental health after all. ‘And nothing’s come between us. Not even —’

He nodded emphatically.

We found a place to sit in the park and continued talking, sharing stories about our new lives and recounting those from our old ones. Time became inconsequential, as did the fact that it had done so on a weeknight. We left only because the park was closing soon and I got hungry, because enhanced metabolism. A Lebanese takeaway near the park was my saviour. Our conversation persisted into the wee hours of the morning and a long way away from where we’d started. As he turned down my request to have breakfast together before heading home almost at the crack of dawn as we were wont to do in our early college days (and he did so patiently, which was more than what I deserved for being a forgetful idiot), it hit me for a moment that being friends with a vampire might pose a challenge to scheduling, as if his chronic lateness wasn’t already a thing. Then I realised it didn’t matter. I was simply happy to have him back in my life, and while anything about us could change at any time, one thing was for certain: our friendship would be everlasting.

✦✧✦✧

It happened again.

I fell in love with her again.

As soon as I felt the same tingle in my stomach that gave rise to our long separation in college, I knew I had to call our friendship off for good. This couldn’t keep happening. She needed a friend she could count on to be there for her because he wanted to out of cordiality, not one whose intentions she’d constantly be second-guessing. She had to know something was up. She had to have sensed my feelings for her. What could that nose of hers not detect? No, we agreed not to read each other’s emotions using our sense of smell. We weren’t at that level of intimacy with each other, as much as I desperately wanted us to be.

And hell, did I ever want it so terribly. Being what I was, everything I felt was intensified. I didn’t know what I might do to her if I continued to be around her while she didn’t reciprocate my feelings, and I didn’t want to find out. I was prepared to spend all of eternity without her. There’d come a time anyway when she wouldn’t be in my life anymore. Werewolves weren’t immortal. I’d have to watch her grow old — at a slower rate than humans, sure. So that’d buy us at least a decade or two. So what? I’d still have to watch her die. The sooner I ended things, the better it’d be for the both of us. She could get a head start on the life she deserved, one free of a perpetually lovesick wanker.

I’d do it tonight — under the stars at the beach, the breeze appreciable but not disruptive, the waves lapping the shore with calm strokes, the waxing gibbous moon bathing us in a warm, tranquil glow. It was fucking perfect … for what I wished this was instead of what this was supposed to be. It didn’t have to be tonight. Did I want to ruin this lovely picnic she’d so eagerly planned and looked forward to? It had to be tonight. The longer I spent in her company, the more I feared I’d do something that’d push us beyond the brink of repair.

Desire and disquietude were making it difficult to focus on her words. She was talking about … her latest project at work or the 22nd and 23rd cats her sister had just adopted … or something. Her lips were mesmerising to watch. They must feel just as nice to kiss. Jude was bloody lucky to be the only person to know for sure. Fuck. Fuck, Morgan. You’d fucking lost the plot. This shit was exactly why you needed to get away from her. Fucking knob. Fucking loser who thought ‘once bitten, twice shy’ didn’t apply to him. She’d think you were a fucking obsessive creep, and she’d be right.

‘— I can’t stand to visit her. I don’t need to be a werewolf to think that the smell of twenty-something cats in an okay-sized flat is horrendous. And no one would dare call her out on it. You know what she’s like. It’s how she has twenty-something cats to begin with. She wasn’t even a cat person before. Anyway’ — Ellie held up her hands, the movement stealing my attention from her lips, ‘low contact, as it is with the rest of them.’ She popped a pie bar in her mouth. ‘And I just spent the last five minutes ranting about my sister and her lack of self-control. Totally the best thing to do at a time like this, right?’

I could listen to her spout off about the most mundane thing possible all night and find it all so riveting.

I sipped my drink — badger blood to bring out the sweetness of the fruit-heavy dishes and complement the fowl-based sandwiches she packed. I never would’ve thought of pairing the blood of different animals with human food to make the latter more palatable. She revived in me the thrill of being a vampire after two years of languishing under the spell of ennui and regret for an existence spanning all of eternity cast on me by the desolation of my split from Lorelai. And I was likely going to go down that rabbit hole again after tonight. It was for a good cause. I’d rather be miserable than be the source of her headache.

‘Morgan? You’re — um —’ She made a circular motion at my upper body, and then heaved her shoulders in an amused shrug. ‘I wish you all the best in getting all that out.’

I looked over what she’d gestured at. ‘Fuck it. I’d been meaning to toss this shirt anyway.’

I soaked up what I could with a napkin — or five — and took off my shirt before I’d retch from the smell. I practised controlled feeding for a reason. Now I was shirtless and a little bloodied, just in time for one of the most important conversations in my very long, soon to be very lonely, life to take place. Terrific.

‘Ellie, I — I have something to tell you.’

‘I fucked up the dip, didn’t I?’

‘No, it’s not that — it’s delicious.’ For something that didn’t come from a vein, at least. ‘Ellie … I love you.’ Again. Because I was a stupid fuck.

Her lips formed an O. Stop fucking looking at her lips!

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I thought I’d gotten over it the first time.’ It sucked that there was now a ‘first time’. ‘I just get this feeling when I’m around you. I feel safe, happy — I feel like I’m alive again. I don’t have to hide anything about myself. I can be me, yet you make me want to be the best I can be for you. But I can’t keep doing this to you and myself. I don’t want to settle on being friends this time. I know that part of me won’t let me either. And I don’t know what that part of me would do if I continue to be in your life like this.’

‘Morgan —’

‘I shouldn’t have come back. I’ve enjoyed the past year tremendously. But I think — I know I have to leave now while things are still … good between us. It’d be for the best. I don’t want to fuck up what we had since we were kids. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I truly am.’

She simply stared at me. She must be thinking why the fuck she’d been saddled with a right prat for a friend. Where did things go wrong? Did I knock back too many whiskey shots on my 18th birthday? I vaguely remembered her asking me to stop after my eleventh. Why wasn’t she still saying anything? Did I break her?

‘No, Morgan’ was what she said at last — and the only thing she said for the longest time.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t leave.’ Her hand hovered over mine. Uncertainty swam about in her eyes. Her dilemma was plain to see. I took her hand and locked our fingers together. This was the only time I could get away with being this forward. I wanted to savour her warmth as well for as long as I could; I’d miss it so much.

‘I have to. It’s not safe for you to be around me.’

‘But … I want to be with you. Not as friends. Morgan … I’ve fallen in love with you, too.’

‘What are you saying? No, don’t — that’s not —’ Had I put her under some kind of glamour without realising it? Was she humouring me? Every fibre of my being yearned for what I heard to be true. Nothing I’d seen in all the time we spent together suggested the possibility. Nothing we did together seemed out of the ordinary.

‘I’m — I mean it. I should be the one apologising, I think. I’ve felt this way for the last couple of months. I look forward to being with you all the time. I love receiving your texts throughout the night and waking up to them in the morning. Nothing feels like it’s happened until I tell you about it. I get these butterflies in my stomach every time you smile at me and touch me. You remember these small details about us from so long ago. I think the moment I knew was when I was having a tough time transforming for whatever reason and you were just … there for me, holding me, talking me down. I love you. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how you’d react because of — because of what happened in college.’

She sniffled. Seeing that I was the reason for her tears stung my heart. I wiped them away for her. ‘I love you. I always will,’ I said.

Then our lips met. I’d waited so long for this, and it was both everything I dreamt of and like nothing I could’ve ever imagined. Her lips were so warm, so soft, so sweet. I tasted the tartness of cherries and apples, the smokiness of turkey, the acidic sharpness of vinaigrette, on her mouth, notes I thought lost to me forever. An indistinct thumping sounded deep inside my chest. Her fingers slid into my hair, making waves of it. I pulled her closer to me, my hands gripping her waist, in the hope that the rush of her skin against mine would allay my doubts that this was all just a dream. But how could it be a dream when everything seemed to finally make sense? While Lorelai had promised a life anew in death, Ellie was the promise of a life renewed and delivered from death.

I didn’t want this moment to end. It had to, as my body was beginning to respond to the call of her blood.

She pulled away. No, I wanted to cry out. She must’ve sensed my thirst.

‘It’s okay if you want to,’ she said. ‘I’m not afraid.’

She bared her neck for me. My nostrils flared. I could smell her blood — like red hot ambrosia. Her heartbeat pounded in my ears, growing louder with every second I dithered. Why was I hesitating? I wanted her. I needed her.

I sank my teeth into her neck. She shuddered; a soft moan fled her lips. Crimson flowed out of the punctures I made. Everything I’d imbibed prior paled in comparison to what I was now partaking of: little explosions of flavour — syrupy, racy, robust — went off in my mouth. I feared nothing else could do it for me after this. I lapped up every drop of ruby as if it were exquisite manna; I made sure none of it went to waste. The blood I ingested was making its way south, making a signal for another kind of craving to be met. Not now. It’d be too soon for us. I had all the time in the world to get to know her better.

Her scent and whines were becoming too hard to ignore. I stopped for fear that I was misinterpreting them out of my own bias. I found myself staring into enlarged amber irises in pools of black. Claws had popped out from under her fingernails. She, too, was sporting fangs. Her chest, lightly shining with sweat, rose and fell sharply. The changes reversed themselves in short order. Red spread across her cheeks in uneven blotches.

‘I’m sorry. I —’ she said.

I cupped my hand around her cheek. ‘You can let go if you want to. You don’t have to be shy around me.’ She’d always been sheepish about her wolf form and the lengths she went to for its emergence around me. The incident she referred to had only been allowed to happen because her panic attack drowned out any embarrassment, any diffidence, she harboured about the process. That was the only time I saw her in that state.

She shook her head. ‘I know. I just — I’d want to experience that — our first time — as myself, and I don’t think I can do that now. I hope that’s okay.’

I wiped my mouth and gave her a light kiss on the lips. ‘Of course. We don’t have to rush into things. We have a lifetime ahead of us’, and I wanted every second to be as special as the last. She smiled in agreement and enfolded me in a tight embrace. It startled me how much she felt just like home in my arms. I could do this with her forever, and for a fleeting moment, as I fingered the now unblemished skin where my teeth had pierced, I wondered if there would ever be the chance of her wanting to share in my idea of forever.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #vampire #monster love #monster romance #mine

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lonelypond · 3 years ago

Text

BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, “Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #married #married life #fluff #minor illness and angst #au yeah august

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blouisparadise · 5 years ago

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We recently received a request for enemies and lovers recs. We already have an enemies to lovers fic rec list here, but after looking at that list, we realized we had much more to add to it and therefore decided to make a part two.

Happy reading!

1) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

2) There's More Than One Place To Call Home | Explicit | 8416 words

Harry never asked for much from his neighbors - he didn't care about barking animals during the day or loud talking during the night.

The only thing he needed was silence when he was writing. And that was the only thing his new neighbor wouldn't give him.

Deciding to confront the loud guy who lived next door, Harry found himself ringing his doorbell one night. And that decision just may be the best thing that's ever happened to Harry.

3) Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion | Explicit | 8824 words

As a general rule, kitten hybrids are small and disinterested in what other people want them to do, slightly evil and at least a little manipulative. Louis prides himself on being all of those things to varying degrees, but especially on being uninterested in what other people tell him to do. He’s still human goddammit, despite his pointy ears and penchant for curling up in the sun and taking naps.

He’s going about his daily business, knocking things over where he sees fit and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. As exasperated as it makes Liam he’s used to it by now, having shared a flat with Louis for almost three years now, and if Louis whines enough he’ll even clean up after him. It’s a great life, really.

With the exception of Liam’s stupid, broad shouldered, entirely too big mate, the one who always comes over to watch sports with him. Louis hates that guy. His hair is always greasy and he brings weird hipster beer with him when he comes that tastes like shit. And he won’t even let Louis have any of it, either. The only reason Louis even knows what it tastes like is because one time he stole a bottle from the fridge and fled to his room before Harry could catch him.

4) Something To Prove | Explicit | 9425 words

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

5) Where Do We Go Now | Explicit | 10617 words

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

6) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

7) I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

6) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23516 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) When It’s Late At Night | Mature | 25597 words

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

11) Supposed To Be | Explicit | 26100 words

The Geek Charming AU where Harry's a film geek, Louis' a popular jock, and they both need each other to get what they want.

12) Magical Soup | Explicit | 28850 words

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown. Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea. As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

13) Building Me Up (But Buttercup, You Lied) | Explicit | 31007 words

Harry’s mouth felt dry just saying those words. What he had with Louis was so much more than a simple ‘fuck buddies’ situation. It was slow kisses in the morning between soft sheets and shy smiles, it was holding hands in the afternoon while walking and eating ice cream. It was breakfast for dinner, laughing and licking honey from each other’s lips as they shared goals and even some secrets, it was happiness, it was glow.

To Harry, what he had with Louis meant everything. Until Louis decided it meant nothing.

14) You’ve Set On Me | Explicit | 31100 words

Louis' in an obscure band. Harry's an international popstar. Their paths aren't meant to cross, not like this, but when Louis' band signs on as Harry's opening act, both Harry and Louis are forced to confront the open wounds of their shared past.

15) Nicotine | Explicit | 32245 words | Sequel

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Make This Feel Like Home | Explicit | 42032 words

The house on West 28th Street in London is twice the size of Louis', more expensive than the price of all of his house and car payments combined, and is falling apart at the seams.

19) Strangers in Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Why Can’t It Be Like That | Explicit | 63567 words

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

21) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

22) For Reasons Wretched and Divine | Explicit | 94655 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

23) You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) | Explicit | 102306 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

24) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Mature | 126056 words

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #enemies to lovers #hate to love #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs

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rainbowpacifiers · 4 years ago

Text

Twin Kingdoms (A3! Event story) - Chapter 10

Sorry for the long wait. It’s super text-heavy. They used a lot of effects for this play, so if you haven’t watched it yet or can’t and would like to see, let me know! Excuse any potential mistakes!

Chapter 9 | Index | Epilogue

Noble A: "His Majesty's magic was superb. In his younger days, his sword skills were first-class as well." Noble: "Compared to that, Lord Cain, however.... If at least it were the other way around with the foster brother, Lutz." Noble A: "He is not very good at magic, either. I hear that is the reason why he still won't take command of the army." Noble B: "Without another heir around, what will happen?..." Cain: "......" Lutz: "Don't take it to heart, Cain. Such fellows will complain about anything." Cain: "Stop trying to console me." Lutz: "Wait, Cain--" King of North Aria: "Cough." Noble A: "Your Majesty!? Somebody call the doctor!"

Noble A: "To think his Majesty would fall ill... What does he intend to do with the throne?" Noble B: "His Royal Highness is quite advanced in age, but I feel a little uneasy about Lord Cain." Noble A: "In the first place, is Lord Cain even qualified to be heir of the throne?" Noble B: "Be careful about what you say." Noble A: "Until now, he has not appeared in royal ceremonies. It is only natural to doubt him." Noble B: "Once someone other than Lord Cain is appointed, the country will fall into ruin." Izumi: (For our setting, we have the kingdom of the north, North Aria, which has been in a long-standing conflict with the kingdom of the south, South Agis, which is surrounded by active volcanoes.) Izumi: (The story begins when North Aria's king collapses as the two countries are in the midst of approaching peril due to unexplained climate change and starvation...)

Cain: "Father...I'm sorry." Lutz: "Where are you going at this hour?" Cain: "--Why are you here?" Izumi: (Haruto-kun's performance of a delicate Prince Cain is great. It's classy and perfectly fits the GOD Troupe's vision.) Lutz: "We have been together since birth. At the very least, I know what you're thinking. Running away won't solve anything." Cain: "I know that. But my existence creates an idle conflict." Lutz: "Well, right now, the palace is not a safe place for you. It might be good to go into hiding for a while." Cain: "Thank you for everything you've done, Lutz." Lutz: "I'm going, too." Cain: "Huh?" Lutz: "I was just thinking that I wanted to go on a trip. Come on, let's go." Cain: "Hey, wait--" Izumi: (The dialogue between Haruto-kun and Shift-kun has changed quite a bit compared to when we first started.) Izumi: (You can now feel something like familiarity and affection between relatives.)

King of South Agis: "Don't make me repeat myself. It is not a matter for you to meddle in." Gilber: "Tch, that pighead! His brains are fossilising with old age." Sasha: "Whatever the circumstances may be, you are going too far, Lord Gilbert." Gilber: "Now, while the people are impoverished, it's ridiculous to have a war with North Aria. Neither the high officials nor my father are staring reality in the face." Sasha: "It seems we cannot avoid the beginning of a war." Gilbert: "Now that things have come to this, a coup is our only option." Sasha: "Do you really mean it?" Gilbert: "I jest. Prepare yourself, Sasha. Tomorrow morning, we ride for North Aria." Sasha: "A surprise attack?" Gilbert: "Your jokes don't sound like jokes." Gilbert: "The inspection results determined that the dry weather and drought have spread from North Aria." Gilbert: "We're going to investigate the cause for the change in climate. There is a way to save our people without a war." Izumi: (Tasuku-san's princely manner is even more majestic than during his performances at the MANKAI Theatre. The way he changes his acting to match with the GOD Theatre is just what you'd expect from him.) Izumi: (The way Azami-kun carries himself is smart and really conveys the role of an obedient valet skilled with a sword.)

Cain: "Oh....silverwork, huh?" Shopkeeper: "Mister, are you perhaps interested in that?" Shopkeeper: "Just between us, but this is a type of magic tool produced in South Agis. Depending on how it's used, it has the power to blow away a house." Cain: "A magic tool..." Shopkeeper: "Since this is our special, I can't just sell it for an inadequate price. Well, how about I trade it to you for that brooch you have?" Cain: "My brooch?" Shopkeeper: "Yeah. I just happen to have a customer who is interested in such things." Cain: "Well, in that case..." Gilbert: "Hey now, don't be deceived by such obvious fraud." Shopkeeper: "What!? If you're going to get in the way--" Gilbert: "If you keep on being overly ruthless, I'm going to hand you over to the military police." Shopkeeper: "--Tch." Sasha: "We might be the ones getting busted and caught by the military police, though." Gilbert: "It was obviously just a threat. Hey, young master, are you alright?" Cain: "What do you mean, fraud?" Gilbert: "That sort of silver rubbish isn't even worth a fragment of your brooch, you know?" Gilbert: "You wouldn't find something as valuable as magic tools on a market like this. There is a limit to how ignorant of the world one can be." Cain: "Wh-- Don't insult me!" Gilbert: "Whoops, my bad. It looks like I overstepped. Does the young master need to experience the real world?" Cain: "You--!" Lutz: "Hey, what are you doing, Cai?" Gilbert: "Your companion? It seems it's still too early to send the young master on an errand." Lutz: "And you are...?" Sasha: "It appears that he was being offered an unfair barter that was not worth the value, and though it might seem a little forward, my lord stepped in." Lutz: "I, I see? Looks like we owe you. Thank you." Cain: "There is no need to thank such rude fellows." Lutz: "But it's true that you know little of the world. Even brooches will add to our travelling expenses. We should be grateful to them." Gilbert: "Then, in return, won't you buy us a drink? We just got into town, so we don't know of any places." Cain: "Why, you impudent--" Lutz: "There, there. It's no bother at all."

Lutz: "I'm sorry that you ended up buying us a drink instead." Gilbert: "You did tell us a bunch of stuff." Cain: "I don't remember asking you to, but thank you, anyway." Gilbert: "Haha, well, if we ever meet again..." Lutz: "Safe travels." Sasha: "We will be going, then." Gilbert: "Alright, where should we stay for the night?" Sasha: "I arranged something at the first establishment." Gilbert: "That's my capable attendant for you." Lutz: "What interesting people, right?" Cain: "How? I have never met such a rude fellow before. Is this the norm in town?" Lutz: "No, rather, that person--" Lutz: "Look out, Cai!" Cain: "!?" Bandit A: "Tch." Cain: "What do you want?--" Bandit B: "Hand over that brooch!" Lutz: "We refuse!" Bandit A: "Ha!" Lutz: "!? Magic--no, magic tools, huh?" Cain: "Why are bandits using magic tools--?"

Gilbert: "--" Azami: "What is the matter?" Gilbert: "I felt a faint hint of magic. Someone must be using magical tools. Let's go!" Azami: "Yes!"

Lutz: "--gh." Cain: "Lutz!" Lutz: "There are still too many of them..." Cain: "We should just give them this brooch..." Lutz: "Even if we hand it over, they're not the sort to just quietly return home." Cain: "Uh--" Gilbert: "Seems as if you have a disposition to somehow get caught up in trouble." Lutz: "Mister Gil!" Sasha: "I will assist you." Bandit A: "Tsk."

Izumi: (The two princes who met in the border town between North Aria and South Agis-) Izumi: (come to take joint action in order to investigate the identity of the attacking bandits...) Gilbert: "It's the crest of the 'Dragon's Followers' who worship the ancient dragon." Cain: "I've never heard of them." Lutz: "Same here." Cain: "Isn't the fact that magic tools were used proof that they're from South Agis?" Gilbert: "That may not necessarily be the case. In the underworld, they are traded by North Aria, too." Sasha: "In all likelihood, they aren't just random rogues."

Izumi: (The party who determined the identity of the bandits with the strange crest as their clue, chases after the bandits who attacked again and enters their hideout...) Gilbert: "Canvassing of historial ruins...? We had such ruins?" Cain: "Not in my memory." Lutz: "Those ruins seem to be the sanctuary of the 'Dragon's Followers'." Gilbert: "The demon clan sealed the ancient dragon that once ruled this land... That dragon brings about a curse once after two thousand years." Gilbert: "So two thousand years later would be this year...?" Cain: "Nonsense. I have never heard of such a story before." Gilbert: "I'm of the same opinion. But it might be necessary to investigate it. That 'two thousand years later dragon's curse'." Sasha: "We are out of time." Gilbert: "--So they're already back." Lutz: "We will have no choice but to engage, it seems." Gilbert: "We only need to earn enough time to secure an escape route." Sasha: "I doubt it will be that easy. We're surrounded." Cain: "--What do we do?" Gilbert: "No other choice, then...." Sasha: "Lord Gilbert, please refrain from rash conduct." Gilbert: "We can't just let them kill us without a fight, either." Cain: "What are you talking about?" Gilbert: "Make sure you don't get caught up in it. Oh power of the source surrounding heaven and earth, dwell in my hands--" Dragon's followers: "Uwah!" Lutz: "Flame magic!?" Cain: "Don't tell me that you're South Agis'--!" Lutz: "How overwhelming..." Cain: "Gil, are you part of South Agis' royal family?" Gilbert: "I'm more or less incognito. It'd be of great help if you could keep quiet about it." Lutz: "South Agis' young lion, Prince Gilbert..." Sasha: "That's why I told you that your alias was too simple." Gilbert: "But I'd just give myself away by using a name I'm not used to." Lutz: "To think that you would be a prince! What a surprise. Are you perhaps on reconnaissance?" Gilbert: "Our goal is just as I've told you. We are investigating the cause of the climate change. Although I didn't think it would lead us to the ancient dragon." Gilbert: "Getting you any deeper involved would be dangerous. For now, you should get away from here so that you won't be discovered by their comrades." Cain: "What are you planning?" Gilbert: "We will investigate the ruins." Cain: "--We will go, too. We can't just pretend to be ignorant after coming this far." Lutz: "Cai--are you serious?" Lutz: "Alright. Mister Gil, may we accompany you for that?" Gilbert: "You surprisingly have guts, young master." Cain: "Stop calling me that." Gilbert: "Cai seems like he is a young master from a prestigious family too, so how did you end up on a journey when you're not yet used to travelling?" Gilbert: "There is probably more to it, right?" Cain: "...You would never understand my feelings." Cain: "Not you, who was born to be a king and is blessed with the makings of one." Gilbert: "...I'm sorry for asking such a personal question." Izumi: -- Izumi: (In the midst of their journey, the scene where Cain gives vent to his own feelings...) Izumi: (The violent emotions he has been bottling up for so long in a darker and deeper part can be seen more clearly than during the auditions.) Izumi: (His gloomy inferiority complex that has been accumulating, his jealousy of Gilbert, who has everything, and his strong desire...) Izumi: (That's a Cain that no one but Haruto-kun could have enacted.)

Izumi: (The party arrives at North Aria's sacred mountain that they were led to by the Dragon's Followers...) Gilbert: "Ugh..." Cain: "Gil? What's wrong?" Gilbert: "I'm not sure--suddenly, my strength--" Sasha: "Get down!" Gilbert: "Waah!" Lutz: "His magic suddenly went off--!?" Cain: "Don't tell me this is the dragon's influence." Sasha: "It's dangerous. Please move away." Cain: "But at this rate, Gil will--" Sasha: "I will stop him. Hah!" Lutz: "Wait, you're actually slashing at him?!" Sasha: "Even if my lord has lost his mind, he should be able to avoid this much." Lutz: "The trust between you runs really deep! Alright, then I will believe in that and back you up." Lutz: "Excuse me if I inadvertently stab you--looks like I needn't have worried." Cain: "--ghh." Cain: "--damn it, my eyes can barely keep up." Sasha: "Hgg--" Lutz: "Sasha, any more is too risky!" Sasha: "But--it is my duty as an attendant to stop Lord Gil." Gilbert: "Aaah!" Sasha: "Ugh--" Gilbert: "Hah, uhuh..." Cain: "Sasha!"

Lutz: "Seems like Sasha is out of the woods for now. Mister Gil is still asleep." Cain: "...I was useless. Even here, I couldn't do a thing." Lutz: "Come on, pull yourself together. Under those circumstances, there was nothing to be done." Cain: "I was born a prince, too, so why...." Lutz: "You have your own things that you should do. That's why I followed you here. So that you could save this country as its prince." Cain: "All I did was run away." Lutz: "Enough!" Cain: "--" Lutz: "Search for what it is that you ought to do. I know you can do it. I'm saying this as someone who has been with you since we were children, so there's no doubt." Izumi: (Leaving the wounded Sasha behind, the other three head to the sacred mountain once more, for the purpose of investigating the ruins.)

Gilbert: "Should it appear as if my power will spontaneously discharge again, don't hesitate to abandon me and run away." Lutz: "Don't mind if we do. We won't be able to stop you on our own." Gilbert: "Hearing that makes me feel at ease. Let's go. We are almost at the top." Cain: "Ah, the ruins are over ther--" Gilbert: "Kuh--" Cain: "Gil!" Gilbert: "Damn it--again--escape!" Dragon: "Roar!" Lutz: "--A dragon!?" Cain: "There is no body. It's an illusion. But there is no doubt that Gil's powers are being used by the dragon." Lutz: "At any rate, he is not someone we can win against. I will buy some time. In the meantime, you should--" Dragon: "Roar!" Cain: "Ugh--Lutz!" Lutz: "Run...away!" Cain: "Lutz! Don't die!" Gilbert: "Guaah!" Cain: "Why...am I powerless...! I, I...!" *glowing light* Cain: "--Just what?" *bright light coming off Cain* *darkness* Gilbert: "Cai...? Did you do this?" Cain: "Me...? No, I don't have magic..." Lutz: "...ugh." Cain: "Lutz! Are you alright?!" Lutz: "......" Cain: "Lutz!" Gilbert: "Calm yourself. He's just sleeping. More importantly, what happened?" Cain: "I don't know..." Gilbert: "I felt powerful magic. Did you perhaps...." Cain: "...I am the son of North Aria's ruler, Cain." Gilbert: "Prince Cain...You...." Cain: "Let's check the ruins. The key to saving our countries lies here."

Cain: "Ancient language..." Gilbert: "Can you read it?" Cain: "Yeah." Cain: "The brothers who carried magic sealed the dragon here. At that time, the earth was plunged in darkness because of the dragon, who was set free above ground, and his curse." Cain: "The older brother cast all of his magic and subdued it. Thereafter, the curse will manifest itself again once in two thousand years." Cain: "In order to subdue it, the saviour child will be born among the descendants of the brothers, concealing enormous magic power within themself." Cain: "Pass on the key without ever losing it. Dispel the curse before the dragon is awakened by the magma." Gilbert: "A saviour concealing enormous magic power..?" Cain: "Among North Aria's royal family, magicless children have been discarded as children to shun for generations." Gilbert: "It is the same for South Agis." Cain: "In the first place, which family is this about?" Gilbert: "That magic just then - it felt similar to my power. It's possible that the power of the two royal families was originally one and the same." Cain: "We, from the same family...? So our ancestors would have been the brothers that felled the dragon?" Gilbert: "Though my rockhead of a father would probably die of indignation if I asked him." Cain: "But with this, I know what it is that I have to do. If we use my magic, we can dispel the dragon's curse. And both countries will be saved." Gilbert: "So you're going to use the power from just now?" Cain: "Since my birth, my magic powers haven't manifested even once. That thing just now was just a coincidence. If we don't have the key..." Gilbert: "I've never heard of any key." Cain: "Neither have I. The fact that the saviour child came to be abhorred in the first place may mean that the key and folklore have been forgotten." Gilbert: "....In that case, we have no choice but to use my power, right?" Cain: "The dragon would just take over you again. You might not be able to return to your senses." Gilbert: "Even so, it is worth a try." Cain: "How can you just resign yourself to that without hesitation?" Gilbert: "If there is something you ought to do, then just do it, right? What is there to hesitate for?" Cain: "...I'm a fool for asking you." Gilbert: "Where do you intend to go?" Cain: "I will return to the royal capital and look for the key. You do what you have to do." Gilbert: "I'm counting on you, brother." Cain: "Who are you calling your brother?" Gilbert: "We're relatives, so it's all the same, right?" Cain: "Hmph, what an overly friendly guy."

Citizen A: "An enemy attack! South Agis is invading!" Citizen B: "Kyaah!" Citizen C: "A war at a time like this--!" Cain: "We're looking for the key." Lutz: "We don't have to stop them?" Cain: "We will leave it to the other prince. He should be able to figure something out." Lutz: "You're putting your trust in him." Cain: "Wipe that grin off your face."

King of South Agis: "We will make North Aria a country of mine! That is the only way for us to survive!" Gilbert: "That stupid old man--!" Sasha: "You're going too far." Soldier A: "R, reporting in! --an eruption! The vulcano has erupted!" King of South Agis: "What!?" Gilbert: "The magma will awaken the dragon from his sleep..." King of South Agis: "W, what is this rumbling of the ground?" Dragon: "Roar!" Soldier A: "A dragon! The dragon was resurrected!" Dragon's Followers: "Oh...noble dragon! Burn this foolish human race to nothing!"

Cain: "All soldiers, change your target to the ancient dragon!" Noble A: "B, but, what about South Agis attacking us!?" Cain: "They should be aiming at the dragon as well!" Dragon: "Roar!" Gilbert: "Cai! Did you find the key!?" Cain: "I'm sorry. Not yet--" Gilbert: "That's too bad. In that case, there is only one way left." Cain: "Are you sure? If you use up all of for magic power, your life will come to an end." Cain: "To begin with, we don't know if we can seal the dragon with your power alone." Gilbert: "Even then, there is no one else but me who can do it." Cain: "Why do you have no doubts?" Gilbert: "It's not like I don't have any. It's just that there is no another way." Gilbert: "In that regard, you are the brave one for throwing away the throne and trying to break away. Have a little more confidence in yourself." Gilbert: "I'm leaving South Agis and North Aria to you, brother." Cain: "Wait, Gil--Gilbert!" Dragon: "Roar!" Lutz: "Cai, get down! This place is getting too dangerous!" Cain: "--Let go! There is something that I have to see through." Lutz: "--I have no choice then. I will go with you." Cain: "Lutz..." Lutz: "Let's go!"

Gilbert: "Damn it, I can't contain is...." Dragon: "Roar!" Gilbert: "--gh." Sasha: "Leave your back to me!" Gilbert: "Sasha!? Your injuries--" Sasha: "I cannot just let my lord go on his own." Gilbert: "Do you intend to follow me as far as the other side? You truly are a model attendant." Sasha: "Hng." Lutz: "We will back you up!" Gilbert: "Lutz--Cai...so you came!" Cain: "Sealing that dragon is my duty." Dragon: "Roar!" Lutz: "That being said, what will you do without the key!?" Gilbert: "If you don't have the key, wrench it open!" Sasha: "That's very extreme." Dragon: "Roar!" Lutz: "What power...!" Sasha: "Uh...I'm draining quickly. How long will it last?" Gilbert: "Sorry...Cai. Take care...of the rest." Cain: "Gilbert!!" Lutz: "Uargh!" Sasha: "--ugh." Cain: "If there is any power within me... If there is a meaning behind me never manifesting magic, then..." Cain: "Show it to me right here, right now...! So that I can save my comrades and my people!" Dragon: "Roar!"

Cain: "Uugh..." Gilbert: "Hey, are you alright? Cai!" Cain: "...Gil? So you survived." Gilbert: "I should be saying that." Cain: "--What about the dragon?" Gilbert: "Fell into slumber." Cain: "I see..." Gilbert: "In the end, you were the saviour child. The entire time, the key was within you." Cain: "Inside of me..." Gilbert: "I told you to have a little more faith in yourself." Cain: "Humph. Don't act all big."

Noble A: "...Hereby, we enter into a permanent peace treaty, prohibiting any hostile acts between the two countries of North Aria and South Agis." Gilbert: "It was hard work getting that rockhead of an old man to keep quiet. You were finally able to make it this far, brother." Cain: "I don't remember becoming your brother. But, I feel the same." The people: "Long live North Aria! Long live King Cain!"

Reni: "--" Reni: (I have been looking after the actor Asuka Haruto for many years, but to think he was an actor with such feelings hidden inside...) Reni: (The longing of have-nots....I also remember it.)

Haruto: Thank you very much! Shift: Thank you~. Tasuku: Thank you. Azami: Thanks. Lady in her prime: ..... Haruto: --. Haruto: (Was that--no. It was just for a moment, so I might have mistaken her.) Haruto: (It doesn't matter. From tomorrow onwards, I only have to carry out performance after performance like today's with everything I've got, so that I can hold my head high even if my mother comes to watch.) Haruto: (And then, if we manage a smooth run-through until closing night--ya won't mind me comin' home after all this time, would ya, mum?)

______________

Chapter 9 | Index | Epilogue

#A3!#A3! event story #A3! translation #A3 event story #A3! Twin Kingdoms #Act! Addict! Actors!#Twin Kingdoms #GOD Troupe #MANKAI Company #Asuka Haruto #Arakawa Shift #Arakawa Shifuto #Takato Tasuku #Izumida Azami #Kamikizaka Reni #Godza #my translations #chapter summaries

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years ago

Text

Caught (a 9-1-1 fic post-s3 finale)

Photobooths are prime for catching special moments and making them last forever, even if they are less both and more open spaces with a backdrop. When Athena, Bobby, and Michael stumble upon one such moment between Buck and Eddie, what will they do?

And how will it affect Maddie and Chimney?

T, 3.7k, Athena/Bobby, Buck/Eddie, Maddie/Chimney

Athena finds operating a laptop with only one hand maddening. Typing up an e-mail takes double the time, she needs breaks when shopping online, and scrolling through social media becomes dangerous when she accidentally likes pictures she didn’t mean to. If she had her choice, Athena would be on her phone. But the hired photographer from May’s party e-mailed the pictures from the photo booth, both Bobby and Michael nearby when her phone pinged. Instead of having her husband and ex-husband crowded at her shoulders, Athena pokes her password into the given space while the men gather snacks. When she finally has the first picture loaded, Bobby places the bowl of popcorn by her sling and Michael hands off a soda.

“I think we’ve never looked better Bobby,” Michael laughs, pointing at the screen.

Athena snickers into her drink, studying the picture. Bobby’s jaw dropped in a faux yell; guitar hugged tightly against his chest. Fingers hooked as if he were playing something. Michael’s expression mirrored his except the tinsel wig on his head making it immensely funnier. “Don’t you be trying to steal my man from me, Michael,” she warns, attempting severity, “You already got a doctor eating out of your hand.”

“Okay you two,” Bobby settles his arm across Athena’s chair, chuckling, “we’ll never get through these if you two are bickering. Athena, click onto the next picture?”

They kill the next half-hour like that, pausing every so often to laugh at a few pictures. Like Maddie with May, the two women back-to-back and imitating an old spy poster. Or Chimney and Hen battling with the inflatable guitars like they were axes. Although not every picture was funny. Michael and Athena thought May and her boyfriend gravitated closer than necessary for a simple photo. And Athena needed a moment, collecting herself from the sheer adorableness of Buck and Christopher’s faces pressed cheek-to-cheek.

The next few pictures included Buck as well, except Christopher’s father joined in the fun in his son’s place. Eddie sipping a drink while Buck played the guitar. Him raising a leg mid-kick while Buck locked eyes with the camera. Smoking on a corncob pipe as Buck runs wild behind him. Flexing, playing the guitar, and jumping. One picture had half of his face cut off.

Buck must have landed closer, because Athena clicked on and they occupied the same breadth of space. Eddie, non-plussed, while the younger man messed with him. Grinning, swinging beads in his face. Then wincing when it struck the soft spot between his brows. Brushing gently over his nose in a cursory inspection, too close. Followed by –

“Oh, my,” Athena gasped, hand over her mouth. She felt Bobby tense at her side and Michel mutter a curse under breath.

The photographer, with perfect timing, captured the briefest of pecks. Buck’s lips on Eddie’s, both puckered. Expectant. None of them can decipher who initiated the embrace. Only that it happened and there was no mistaking the intention

“Well I’ll be damned,” Michael says, “this is…”

Athena glances at her husband, “Did you know about this?”

Bobby shakes out of his stupor, turning to her. “No, I… I had no idea,” he says, “I mean, they’re close but I always thought it was more like… brothers?”

Michael snorts, drawing Athena’s attention. “Do you have anything to add?”

His mouth thins, and he inches back. “No, I’m as shocked as you both are… A little intrigued… and embarrassed I didn’t notice those boys swung on my team before… But shock is at the forefront.”

She sighs, sagging in her seat. Her finger scrolls onto the next arrow except she cannot continue. Athena finds herself staring at the picture again. “What should we do?”

Bobby hums and squeezes her shoulder. “We can pretend this didn’t happen and let them come to us in their own time?” He nods at the screen, “For the first month at least. If they don’t say something past then, I will have to bring it up anyway seeing as fraternization between coworkers requires tons of paperwork.”

“Okay, then I guess we keep this to ourselves until they own up on their own,” she says, moving on, “or you need evidence if they try and deny it altogether.”

“Always thinking like a cop,” Michael laughs, nudging her, “you’ll be back on the streets soon enough.”

“We’ll see.” She finally clicks onto the next picture, another Eddie and Buck. More bashful and with ruddy cheeks. If there were any confusion about the prior scene, this added the final layer of context. “They do make an adorable couple.”

“And a hot couple…”

Athena elbows Michael with her good arm, scowling. “Hush up. Think about your doctor.”

The mood returns, not at the same level it was before the discovery but there the same. They finish viewing the album and then spend more time dividing it. Creating folders for their friends and family so they can have their pictures. Athena finds the kissing scene again and immediately puts it, and the accompanying aftermath shot, in its own folder. She forgets it when they start compressing the files for ease of sending.

Unfortunately, when attaching Buck’s pictures to the e-mail, his zip file contains two folders.

-----------------------------------------

Buck find Eddie in the kitchen, pouring milk into two bowls of cereal. His heart skips a beat at the scene of pure domesticity. The way sunlight streams through the thin curtains and makes Eddie glow in its beams. Makes him look more irresistible than he already is. He tugs his shirt down over his chest and walks over, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s chest. “Breakfast? Really?”

“What – not a fan of Fruit Loops?”

“I love Fruit Loops,” Buck chuckles, kissing at the bruise on Eddie’s neck he made earlier. “But I don’t know if three o’clock is the perfect time for them.” Still, he takes the bowl from off the counter and opens a nearby drawer.

Eddie grabs spoons for them both. “Breakfast isn’t a meal… it’s a state of mind. It’s the first thing you eat when you get out of bed. And since we haven’t left the bed since now…”

“We could’ve left earlier,” Buck reminds him, “If you weren’t so damn horny.”

“I wasn’t the one practically crying for dick in my ass –“

“Hey, hey!” Buck cuts him off, cheeks burning hotter the longer Eddie laughs. “I wasn’t crying, I was… heavily suggesting.”

“Sure…”

He scowls, sticking his spoon in Eddie’s bowl and stealing a bite. “If you didn’t want a second round, all you had to do was say so. But don’t go complaining because I was making sure you were having a great time while Christopher’s at camp.”

“Oh, no,” Eddie shakes his head, grimacing, “please don’t quote my son’s card while we’re talking about sex.”

“You started it,” Buck smirks, pointing with his spoon. “Your fault if you can’t handle the heat.”

Eddie shoves at him, jostling the milk and spilling some onto his shirt. A soggy Fruit Loop dove from his bowl and landed on his foot, near his big toe. Buck retaliates with a push of his own, although Eddie catches his wrist and drags him into a kiss that makes him forget about the milk stain, dropped Fruit Loop, and Eddie’s teasing.

They break for air, foreheads pressed against each other. “We should really be eating.”

“Yeah.”

It’s another five minutes standing there. Balancing bowls of cereal and trading kisses. When they finish, Eddie guides Buck into the living room. They cuddle on the sofa, Buck crossing his legs under him and flicking the television on. Flipping through channels until he finds a cartoon he likes. Halfway through the SpongeBob episode, he feels a heavy stare. Buck turns, cheeks stuffed with cereal, to find Eddie watching with a small grin. “What?”

“Maybe I should have sent you to camp alongside Chris,” Eddie says, “that way you could have had fun with all the other kids.”

He swallows, glaring. “Shut up…” Eddie leans forward and brushes his lips across Buck’s cheeks, halting any further protest. Unwilling to let Eddie win, however, Buck redirects his attention elsewhere. Namely his blinking cell phone, resting on the coffee table since last night. Buck must have forgotten it sometime between Eddie kissing him and Eddie carrying him out with Buck’s legs around Eddie’s waist.

Buck opens it, wincing at the number of messages.

Eddie peers over his shoulder, spoon in his mouth. “Popular?”

“Something like that…” He scrolls through the notifications. At the tagged pictures on Instagram and the missed calls, choosing his texts first. Sees five from Chimney asking about where his is and if he can come over. Then twenty from Maddie progressively growing angrier the longer Buck didn’t respond. Buck types back on the last message. Answers her ‘Buck I am not kidding you better answer me asap we need to talk’ sent at one-twenty-three with a ‘Sorry b there soon’ at three-thirteen. “I gotta go to Maddie’s…”

“What for?”

Buck scans through the texts again, shrugging. “Doesn’t say. But it must be important if both her and Chim were on my case.”

Eddie knocks shoulders with Buck. “Want me to tag along?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Buck tells him, “but if we’re supposed to keep this low-profile, I doubt showing up together will help.”

“But we always show up together,” he argues.

“Not after having fantastic sex.”

“You’re right,” Eddie concedes, thoughtful expression transforming into one more devious. His fingers tickle Buck’s thigh before he squeezes Buck’s cock. “I’d rather show up after mind-blowing sex.”

“Eddie, you’re killing me,” Buck whines, “I’m too tired.” Except he lays his bowl on the table alongside Eddie’s and happily relaxes onto the couch. Lying underneath the other man while he licks at his collar bone. Buck giggles while his friend’s stubble rubs against his skin. Absentmindedly Buck looks at his phone, scrolling through more apps. He opens his e-mail and sees the message from Athena labelled: ‘May’s Graduation Party Photos’. “Hey Eddie, the photos from May’s party are here.”

“What?” Eddie asks, rising momentarily for air.

“Pictures!”

“Another time, Bucky…” he presses a sloppy kiss at his jaw, smirking. Toying with Buck’s shirt. “Be with me now.”

“Let me take a quick look.” Buck ignores Eddie’s pleading, opening it. Downloads the file and clicks the icon, switching apps. He opens the first folder, a photo of Buck and Maddie greeting him. “Oh, these came out nicely…”

Eddie continues dropping kisses on different points of his body while Buck scrolls through each picture. “Really, Buck,” he gasps after sucking a mark onto Buck’s hip. A feat that usually leaves him panting, sweaty, and writhing in Eddie’s embrace. “Can’t this wait? Feeling unappreciated…”

Buck threads his hand through Eddie’s hair, patting it. “Almost done,” he tells Eddie, “There’s another file here… looks like it’s only two –“ He cuts off, eyes widening.

Startled, Eddie raises a brow at him. “Buck? You okay?” Nothing. Eddie crawls up and forces Buck’s gaze away from the phone and towards him, tilting at his jaw. “Speak to me. What is it?”

He cannot speak. So he shows Eddie his phone, watching the blown pupils retract as the mood shifts.

It’s a photo from the party, one they hadn’t realized was captured. Their first kiss. When Buck was so overwhelmed with happiness and warmth and, staring at Eddie, crossed the divide without thought. A quick peck that left them stuttering and blushing and unsure where they stood. Buck ran away, not waiting for Eddie. Moving until the other man dragged him into an empty room to explain himself.

Buck had nothing. No reason why he kissed Eddie except that it felt right. Which he proved by pressing him against the wall and kissing him again. Eddie answered in kind, flipping him around and hauling his leg up. Thumb brushing his kneecap.

They broke, muted sounds of the party filtered through the door. Eddie cleared his throat, “We still need to talk about this.”

“Definitely…”

Both men said their goodbyes, five minutes after the other. Promises that when Christopher left for camp, they would restart their conversation. Eddie drove straight over, card still in hand when he knocked on Buck’s door.

Buck hung it on the fridge before they tripped up the stairs in hurried excitement, shedding clothes and tumbling on the bed.

Talking came after the sex.

“What do you think it means?” Buck asks, “Why would Athena send this?”

Eddie shrugs, mouth flapping worriedly. “I don’t know,” he finally says, “Maybe she… maybe she sent without looking?”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Karen and Hen had their photos taken but I don’t have any of theirs. She definitely saw this.” His mind works double time, connecting loose threads into a makeshift sweater. “Wait,” he says, pushing Eddie off him and onto his knees. “Wait, hold on… do you think this is what those texts were about?”

“Texts? What texts?”

“Chim and Maddie,” he reminds Eddie, “the urgent texts that – that didn’t mention what made them so damn urgent. Do you think… Athena sent this photo to them, too? To Hen? Everybody?”

Eddie sighs and runs his hands up and down Buck’s shoulders, added warmth like a candle fighting an iceberg. “Athena wouldn’t do that,” he says, “I’m sure this was nothing. Maybe even a… a simple way of letting us know she knows and she supports us?”

“Still…”

As if seeing the smoke billowing out his ears, Eddie stands and offers a hand. “Come on.” Buck squints up at him, curious. “You think Maddie and Chimney know about us. You won’t know by sitting here spinning out. When we get there, we can see what they have to say.”

Buck fights his smile, but a tiny smirk still appears. “We?” he asks.

“Yes, we,” Eddie tells him, “So let’s move. I think I have a shirt that’ll fit, but it might be a little short?”

“What about my clothes from yesterday?”

“Please,” Eddie matches his smirk, “we’re not sure if they know about us. Why make it obvious by doing that.” Most of the tension from moments ago disappears with their laughter, Eddie ridding him of the rest by hauling Buck into a tender kiss. “Hurry,” he whispers, “because if we stay here any longer, I won’t want to leave the house until tomorrow.”

“Tempting…” Buck pushes off, smiling. “Very tempting, but I already promised Maddie. She’s mad enough at me as it is.” Eddie tries catching his wrist one more time but Buck, aware of this trick, dodges at the last second and bounces off. The other man chases with great speed.

The playfulness helps distract Buck from the impending appointment with his sister and their friend. And leaves him grateful that he and Eddie crossed over in their relationship, onto the next level. Into what it was always meant to be, what it kept building towards over the years. Abby’s return the final push giving Buck the clarity he needed in understanding his feelings.

When the hurt finally stopped, the loneliness he expected to follow didn’t. Because Buck had his sister. The one-eighteen. Christopher and Eddie.

Especially Eddie. Especially when his lips tickle his neck, and delays them further.

-----------------------------------------

Maddie paces the floor, chewing on a bite of pickle. “What’s taking him so long?” she asks Chimney, her boyfriend watching from a nearby couch. “I swear, if he isn’t in this room in the next five minutes…”

Chimney stands, walking towards her. “I’m sure he has his reasons,” he tells her, “he didn’t answer his phone until – what? Three? Maybe he was busy.”

“Too busy to answer a text?” She pokes his chest, huffing. “Too busy to get his ass over here and learn that he’s about to be an uncle?”

“Well, you didn’t tell him he was going to be an uncle in the text so he probably didn’t think it was that urgent.”

She glares, readying another onslaught. Luckily for Chimney they hear the buzzer for his apartment ring. Maddie shoves the rest of the pickle in her mouth, nodding at the door. “Let them in and bring them into the dining room.”

“Anything else, my queen?”

Maddie ignores him, setting at the table with her hands folded. Listens while Chimney speaks into the intercom and lets Buck up. In the minutes between that and Buck arriving, she thinks. About what it felt like seeing both plus signs appear on the pregnancy tests and the cocktail of emotions erupting within like a volcano. Happiness and excitement, but also fear. Worry over whether she was ready, or if she would be a good parent. Memories of her own childhood flooded and distracted Maddie until she broke free from their chains and realized Chimney spoke to her in the living room.

He tried, but in the days that followed Maddie’s party her nerves only shredded further. She needed her brother. And when Maddie mustered the strength and reached out, he kept her waiting.

Anger won out when she laid eyes on him, incised further when she notices Eddie. “Is that why you weren’t answering me? Too busy ‘hanging out’?” The exaggerated quotes make Buck flinch in a way he hadn’t in years. Not since he was a little kid. And she finds herself back in Hershey once more. And Maddie’s doubt in her skill doubles.

“Sorry Maddie,” he says, stepping into the dining room, “time just got away from us and… we came as fast as we could?”

She glances between them, both men with reticent expressions. As quickly as it arrived, the fire inside fizzled into embers. “I’m sorry,” she says, kneading at her temple, “I’ve just been… a little stressed.”

“Stressed, why?”

Chimney answers, “Because of recent developments. Recent developments that we wanted to speak to you about.” He glances at Eddie, frowning. “Eddie…”

Eddie points at the living room, shrugging. “I can wait in there while you talk –“

“No,” Maddie stops him, “no you can join.” She looks at Chimney, smiling. “I don’t see why he shouldn’t be here, right?”

“I guess.”

Buck and Eddie share a cryptid look, slowly sitting across from Maddie and Chimney. Her brother fidgets, tugging on his fingers in the nervous way he would when mom or dad lectured him after landing in trouble. Although why he did it now, Maddie was unsure of. She reached across and grabbed his hand, waiting for when their eyes met to speak. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

His brows scrunch up, “Yeah… I get that.”

“It’s about,” Maddie searches for an entry point, unsure where she should start. “Well… you know at May’s party?” He tenses in his seat. “How we left a little early? That’s because Chimney noticed something and I – I put things together, and we had to go –“

“Maddie I can explain –“

“Because all these signs added up and,” Maddie stops, blinking. She pulls away from Buck, “What?” Buck stares at the table, shoulders hunched high. “Look, I was going to tell you but, well, we know what would’ve happened if this came out so soon after Abby showed up. And the party was the worst place if we wanted to keep this secret, I didn’t mean for it to happen there it just did! We thought it was better to take it at our own pace and – and let people in when we were ready, y’know?”

“Slow down Evan,” Maddie grabs his hands again. Squeezes until he gives her the floor. “What are you talking about?”

He pouts. “I was… you brought me here because you and Chimney saw us, right? At the photo booth?”

“No,” she says, “I wanted you here because I found out I’m pregnant.” Buck chokes, seizing under her grip. “But what are you talking about? Us? You and who else… and why should it involve Abby?”

“You’re pregnant?” he asks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Buck tries closing his mouth but he cannot force his jaw shut. “I’m… I’m gonna be an uncle?”

“Yes, Buck, you are,” Chimney adds, leaning over the table. “But can we go back? What happened at the photo booth?”

Maddie studies her brother slowly shed his shock. Replaced with cheeks redder than his birthmark, failing at subtlety when glancing at Eddie. Eddie hides his face, Maddie imagining it in a similar state. With nothing there, her attention drifts and latches onto the first clue she finds.

A circular bruise on his neck near his collarbone. There’s no mistaking what it was.

“Oh my God,” she says, “Oh my God!”

Chimney sighs, “What? What is it!”

“Buck. You and Eddie?”

“Buck and Eddie – oh,” He sees them in new light, understanding dawning. “Oh my God, you two are dating!”

Eddie reveals his own ruddy cheeks, hands switching tactics from shielding to squeezing Buck’s shoulder. “And you thought they knew!”

“I, I – uh…” Buck splutters, cornered. He points at Maddie, “You’re pregnant! I think that’s more important!”

“But you and Eddie,” she insists, “you and Eddie!” Maddie laughs, stress from the past few days seeping out of her. “I can’t believe – you and Eddie!”

“Yeah, yeah, me and Eddie…” Buck slumps into his seat, glaring. Clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

She sees where his thoughts drift, though, and tosses a lifeline. “I think it’s great, Evan,” Maddie says. Waits for when their gazes lock again. “Really.”

His stiffness eases the longer they stay like that, until a gooey smile spreads across his face. “Talking about great things,” Buck says, gesturing at her and Chimney, “a baby? You’ll be a mother and – and you have to tell me how it happened.”

“I think you know how it happened, Buck,” Chimney chuckles, “Plus, I think we should be asking that of you two.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, slinging his arm over Buck’s shoulders and pulling him closer. Buck instinctively leaning into Eddie’s side. Maddie pauses, stunned by how well they fit together. Hindsight makes everything obvious but she should have seen this coming. “We can compare stories,” Eddie says, “but since baby trumps new relationship, you two can start.”

Maddie nods, sliding one hand free from Buck’s hold and to Chimney’s. Tangling their fingers together. Uniting their family as they take their next steps into unfamiliar territory. Maddie expects the next nine months will be difficult and taxing. Not only with the baby but working while pregnant and then planning what comes after.

With her family at her side, Maddie feels confident in handling whatever challenge comes her way.

#911 season 3 #911 on fox #athena grant #bobby nash #michael grant #athena x bobby #athena/bobby #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie fic #buck/eddie #buck x eddie #maddie buckley #howard chimney han #maddie x chimney #maddie/chimney #911 on fox fanfic

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boldlygo-boldlygoing-boldlygone · 4 years ago

Text

And We Do It All Again - Chapter 7

Summary: Jim has two big problems right now. The first is that he is hopelessly in love with his First Officer and his Chief Medical Officer, and neither seems to return his feelings. The second is that he’s stuck in a time loop where his ship is destroyed and his crew killed, over and over again.

Things can never be simple for James T. Kirk, can they?

Warnings: angst, (temporary) character death, swearing, time loops, suicide attempt in a later chapter (again, it’s in a time loop so it doesn’t really work)

Pairing: McSpirk

Chapter 7 of 7

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A/N: Can also be read here on AO3!

Jim woke and sighed, his eyes catching the chess board, the whiskey glasses. A familiar sight by now. He thought about the confessions.

Without another thought, he rolled in his bed and grabbed his communicator. Bones and Spock arrived together, just as Jim finished pulling on his uniform.

"Jim, is all well?"

"Seriously, you better be dying. I was still asleep!"

"I need to tell you both something." Jim informed them, watching them enter the room from his seat on the bed.

"It couldn't wait until breakfast?"

"It's waited long enough." Jim looked at them both, love and a desperate need for them to know rising in him. "This may sound insane, but I promise, I am mentally and physically fine. Bones, you can even check after this, if you want." He began calmly. Both looked concerned, but he continued before they could interrupt. "I am in love with both of you. Have been for a while."

There was a long silence, a moment where they both just stared at her. Then, Spock spoke.

"Captain, I must ask, what has caused this outburst?"

Jim shrugged. "It needed to be said. I'm tired of hiding it." He was so damn tired. It had been so long and he was just so tired. It felt good to admit this. After the last few cycles, it almost felt natural.

"Jim, stop messing around."

"I'm not." He shrugged. "I'm in love with both of you. Whatever happens next is up to you guys. I don't expect anything, but I needed you to know."

"T'hy'la." The word was whispered reverently, Spock's voice shaking. Jim felt a smile tugging at his face despite his exhaustion.

Bones glanced between the two then straightened, shaking his head. "Idiots." He mumbled, turning for the door. Jim rose to stop him, but Spock beat him to it. Spock caught the doctor's wrist and pulled him back. "Leonard. Please, do not leave. I- I must confess, I have also been harboring feelings for both of you as well."

Bones didn't look convinced. "Look, you two are great for each other. You don't need me mucking it up. Just- let me go with my dignity."

"Shut up, Bones." Jim couldn't think of a time when his heart had felt so full.

"I must agree, Leonard."

"This is insane. Actually insane. You just wanna jump into a polygamous relationship? What's the crew gonna say?"

"It's the 23rd century, Bones. I think it'll be okay. And we don't need to rush into anything. Like I said, I don't expect anything. I just... I needed you to know."

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation after our respective shifts. It is nearly time for us to be on the bridge, Jim."

Jim nodded. "We can meet here at 2300, okay? We'll figure out what this all means." The promise of later felt so abstract, so unreal, but it was what they'd expect him to offer. So he offered it.

"Affirmative."

"I guess."

Jim stepped forward, love washing over him as he took the two in. Then, he grabbed Bones and pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you, Bones."

Bones returned the hug. "Love you too, kid." His voice was gruff, but Jim knew better.

In the turbolift with Spock, Jim put a hand on his First Officer's bicep. "I know touch is sacred to Vulcans, so I don't expect anything. I just want you to know I love you."

Spock looked at him, face as calm as Jim had ever seen it. "I love you as well, Jim."

It should have made him happy. Here was Spock, saying he loved him. After everything, it should have been a relief. Somehow it only managed to break his heart.

"Captain on the bridge!"

He sat through his shift, sneaking glanced at Spock (who was doing the same to him) and hating everything. It had been shockingly easy. They weren't his yet, but they were willing to talk. They were both interested.

Well, Spock was. Bones hadn't said it explicitly, but Jim could remember how he'd kissed him, how he'd gripped him. He knew Bones loved him. He suspected he'd always known, deep down. Until now, he'd just been too afraid to allow himself to hope. Of course, now knowing that didn't do him much good. Not when he'd wake tomorrow starting all over again.

"Sir, there's an unidentified ship approaching."

There it was. The worst ship in the galaxy. If only he could stop it. Steer the ship to some safe location. Maybe get aboard it and-

Get aboard it.

An idea hit him hard and he jumped up, body in motion even before his mind had fully considered this new plan. "Mr. Sulu, shields up! Mr. Spock, take the con!"

"Captain-"

"Do it, that's an order!" He called, already sprinting from the room.

He commed Scotty to meet him in the transporter room. They both arrived just as the first hit shook the ship. Jim jumped onto the platform, the seconds ticking away in his head. "Beam me onto that ship!"

"Sir, I don't know if-"

"That's an order!"

Scotty's eyes widened and he began punching buttons, clearly shocked. Jim wasn't one to bark orders like that.

He wasn't sure where he was when he landed, but he had a half-formed plan and that was further than he usually got. Jim took off, squinting at the signs and arrows directing him. As he ran, he shot any and all he came across.

"Enterprise to Captain Kirk!" There was a tightness to Spock's voice. A small shift, something most wouldn't notice. But Jim knew his first officer well. Spock was not pleased with him.

"Kirk here." Jim responded, slightly out of breath as he approached the engineering room.

"Captain, you must beam back aboard the Enterprise immediately. We do not know who is controlling this ship, but they are clearly hostile."

"Can't, Spock. Nothing else is gonna work, they're too strong. I'm taking it down from the inside."

"Captain-"

"Sorry, Spock." Jim snapped the communicator shut and shoved it back into his pocket, just in time. He sprinted into the engineering room, scanning for the most volatile pieces of machinery. It didn't take long to find them. Jim wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. He knew how the Enterprise ran. He knew what to do to keep her happy (though not as happy as Scotty kept her), but this wasn't the Enterprise. It was all cruder, more basic machinery.

Good thing he wasn't trying to keep this ship happy.

"Hey!"

Jim spun, phaser up and firing, but too late. He gasped, grabbing his side as pain seared through him. Huh. Being shot. That was certainly different. Boarding the enemy ship really had opened a world of possibilities.

Still, his aim was true and the last guard was down. He turned back to the equipment and set to work destroying anything he could get his hands on. The timer inside his head was running out. Jim counted himself lucky, then, when something exploded a few feet away from him. The force knocked him down and sent pain up his side, but he ignored it and scrambled to his feet, sprinting for the door.

"Kirk to Enterprise! Requesting immediate beam up, if you have the capability! I repeat, requesting immediate-"

It was too late. Just as he cleared the door, fire engulfed him, catching him and spitting him out. It was somehow just like being on the Enterprise as it exploded and yet so different. Briefly, he was relieved he didn't have to see Bones or Spock die again. As he was thrown out into space, he shut his eyes and let the darkness come, that thought a comfort as he slipped away. Maybe next time he'd figure out how to save them all. Maybe next time, he'd do better.

. . .

He woke slowly and repressed a sigh, keeping his eyes shut this time. Briefly, he wondered if this was a day when he stayed in bed. It was like his pain from the last day had followed him. Everything ached and he was so, so tired. Still, he should probably keep working. Getting aboard the other ship was new. Exploring that might bring new choices. He had to escape this damn loop somehow. There had to be a way. There had to be.

It was just so hard to keep going.

"Jim?"

And now he was hearing things. Great. This damn loop had finally driven him crazy. He thought repeating the same day would keep that from happening, but evidently not. Because now he was hearing Spock's voice, and-

"Jimmy, open your eyes."

And Bones. Great, just great. Like this wasn't hard enough as it was.

"We can see your vitals. We know you're awake."

Might as well get it over with. Sighing softly, Jim let his eyes fall open.

He wasn't in his room.

Immediately, he bolted up, eyes widening and head twisting, searching the area. He was in the sickbay, in a private room. Spock and Bones stood beside him. "Woah, calm down!" Bones grabbed him and forced him back. "You need to lay down!"

"I'm not in my room."

"No, you're not." Bones scowled. "What the hell were you thinking, beaming onto that ship? You're lucky Scotty had the brains to get Chekov to catch you or you'd be dead right now!"

"Chekov caught me?"

"Yeah, after that damn ship blew up and spit you out."

"Wait, the ship- Is the Enterprise okay?"

"Oh for God's sake!"

"Yes, Jim." Spock responded. "There was substantial damage, but because of your early order to put up shields and distraction aboard the other ship, we were able to avoid destruction."

"How many dead?"

"None. Thirty-six injuries, but no deaths."

No deaths. Not a single one.

"We very nearly had one." Bones scowled at Jim, jabbing a hypo into his neck. "You damn fool!"

"Ow, Bones!" Jim complained.

"Don't wanna get hypoed, don't almost get yourself killed!"

"I had to."

"No you didn't!" Bones' eyes were burning. "You pull this damn stunt right after telling us you're in love with us and you expect me to believe you had to? Bullshit!"

"Bones-"

"I was preparing my speech to convince you two to enjoy yourselves without me and then I find out you beamed onto an unknown, hostile ship? Seriously, Jim?"

"I'm sorry."

"You damn well should be! You're an idiot!"

"I am."

Bones stared at him for a long moment, then grabbed him and pulled him into a bruising kiss. "If you'd died before I had a chance to kiss you, I'd have brought you back just to kill you again myself."

"Noted." Jim let out a breathy laugh, chest bubbly with too many emotions to process. He could feel Spock's eyes on him, so he turned and raised two fingers, remembering the Vulcan way of kissing. The corner of Spock's lips turned up and he returned the gesture. Before Jim could speak, however, Spock's other hand curled around the back of Jim's neck. He pulled Jim into a human kiss. It was gentler than Bones', but still filled with emotion.

"As illogical as it is, I must agree with Leonard." He said once they'd pulled apart. "You must learn not to endanger yourself."

Jim let his eyes flutter shut and he laughed again, breathy and tired and so relieved. "I think I can do that. For you two."

Bones snorted. "Yeah right."

"Hey!"

"Lay back down. You still need to rest."

"I'm fine!"

"You were shot, you arm was nearly burned off, and you almost suffocated. Shut up and rest."

"Bones!" Jim moaned, obeying none the less. He let the doctor work, smiling fondly as he grumbled and Spock stood over his bed, watching with those sharp eyes of his. He thought about explaining his actions. Telling them about the loop, about being stuck going through the same day over and over. Giving them the highlights of his experience. But then Spock's fingers pressed rest lightly against his wrist and Bones' hands lingered a moment longer than necessary on his shoulder and he knew he couldn't ruin this. So he lay still and let their presences wash over him.

It was over. The nightmare was finally over. And in this moment, he didn't want to relive any of it. He'd tell them eventually. He'd explain why he'd done what he had, tell them about the highs and lows of his experience, about how much he'd seen and done and felt, but for now he just wanted to remain in the present and let himself feel loved.

And how so very loved he felt.

#star trek #tos #aos #spock #leonard mccoy #jim kirk #mcspirk #st fanfiction #fanfiction #my stories #mine #and we do it all again

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merryfortune · 4 years ago

Text

Alexithymia

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Ship: Ryoken/Spectre

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,799

Tags: Canon Compliant, Knights of Hanoi as Found Family, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Abandonment Issues, Attachment Disorders, Selective Mutism

Synopsis: Ryoken becomes worried for Spectre when his behaviour deviates, and even regresses, after the defeat of Bohman.

Ryoken was relieved to log out from the Link VRAINS after Playmaker had won against Bohman. He had been relieved to simply have been revived, standing in the plaza with Spectre by his side, smiling as people’s very souls were restored to them after being taken for the Neuron Link but being able to breathe air – even heavily recycled, air conditioned air – of the office filled him with relief and gratitude.

Ryoken got up from his seat and Spectre finally opened his eyes. Ryoken wanted to pounce on him with a hug as soon as he did that, but Spectre was fussy, always had been and Ryoken thought he always would be. So, he gave Spectre a moment and then he looked towards Ryoken. There was an indescribable emotion on the blue surface of his iris; his lips twitched.

“We did it.” Ryoken said. “We lived. The vast majority of the Ignis have perished; the Light Ignis’s faction is a threat no more. We did it.”

“Yes, congratulations.” Spectre’s voice sounded indescribable.

Ryoken beamed. “I’m so happy right now, thank you, for everything, all your efforts.”

He couldn’t contain himself. Yes, the issue of the Dark Ignis remained but for now, now was a time of victory and celebration, no matter how small or what ills were to follow. Ryoken sat down next to Spectre and hugged him. Spectre stiffened as the touch, as Ryoken’s arms came around him and held him. Ryoken sighed. Spectre flinched.

“Please, sir, stop…” Spectre murmured.

Ryoken receded slightly and he gazed up at Spectre who looked most uncomfortable, even frightened, by his embrace.

“Are you alright…?” Ryoken asked and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It hurts.” Spectre admitted in a tiny voice. “It hurts when you do that.”

He wanted to get away so Ryoken let him. Ryoken straightened up and the atmosphere turned awkward. Ryoken hadn’t thought that he would be squeezing Spectre so hard that it would hurt, and it wounded him that he had yet neither said a word. There was silence save for the whirring of the air conditioner on the far wall. Spectre pointedly looked the other way, but he could feel when Ryoken stole looks at him.

“Are you okay?” Ryoken asked again.

Spectre attempted to reply but his words came out a stutter, confused and agitated until he finally gave up and changed the subject. “You said Playmaker defeated Bohman but what of you? What happened after I-” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“If you can stomach it, I’m sure the Lieutenants may have recordings of the duels that took place after your loss.” Ryoken said.

“I would rather hear it from you first.” Spectre replied with a terse exhale.

“Of course, as you wish.”

Ryoken then went on to explain the events which followed after Spectre’s loss. Some of it made him laugh, some of it harrowed him, but there was an oddness to his reactions, a certain detached callousness, which Ryoken couldn’t deny despite how much he wanted to. He wasn’t certain but he could tell. Something about Spectre was off but he couldn’t confirm it until later. When their conversation finished up, they were both famished, and the Lieutenants had returned so they had a meal together.

The fridge had been stocked up with the best and even though the kitchen was tiny, there was an atmosphere of celebration. Aso, Kyoko, and Genome: they all agreed that with the vast majority of the Ignis terminated, it was time to take the victory no matter how meagre. Spectre merely sat and watched. It was eerie and yet, the Lieutenants hardly seemed to notice but its not like Spectre was a big personality. He was a small one. A wisp of the thing and right now, he just wanted to sit at the dining table chair and watch with a rather blank expression.

Ryoken kept reminding himself to keep glancing towards him, keep checking on him but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for Spectre’s opinion on things. He was reasonably certain that even if he were to ask, then he would merely be stalled out or lied to. He could forgive Spectre either way for that, those were two cores of his character, after all, but Ryoken still cared for him very deeply.

“Thank you.” Spectre said when Kyoko put a plate of food in front him. He didn’t smile.

“Your welcome.” Kyoko replied but she glanced at Ryoken, she had noticed as well.

No one in this so-called household was a gourmet chef but if there was anyone who came close, it would have been Spectre. He cared deeply about his produce and how it was treated, he wanted it to be certain that they were treated with care and respect, so he typically produced the best meals. Not for this luncheon, at least.

Everyone sat at the table and thanked each other for the meal, for surviving, and so forth. The Lieutenants ate ravenously and at the other end, of both the table and the spectrum, Spectre barely ate with Ryoken truly in between. Spectre finished first and then retired to his bed on the yacht; no one stopped him. So, no one did the dishes, either, since after eating, everyone wanted to sleep.

Ryoken left his plate and crockery on the sink then slunk off. He and Spectre shared a twin room and he was quiet as he entered it. There wasn’t much space physically between the two beds since it was kind of cramped on the yacht, but it felt a lot bigger as Ryoken’s eyes settled on how defensive Spectre seemed, lying on his side with his back to the door. Ryoken’s anxieties just worsened.

But it was nothing compared to when he managed to confirm and get a better grapple on what Spectre was feeling at present. Or if he was even feeling anything at all.

The following day, they all woke up at weird times, feeling groggy and bad so Ryoken, against everyone’s wishes, they wanted to lie low and eat some more, and maybe do the dishes if they were feeling really daring but he convinced them otherwise. He returned the yacht to the marina and at dusk, he dragged everyone off the yacht and sent them on their ways. To do anything for an hour and then they would be back.

Ryoken was hoping that even Spectre would go off and do his own thing but very sullenly, he insisted that he would prefer to shadow Ryoken, so he did. So, Ryoken donned the choice of doing something that he thought Spectre would like, even for a little while and he figured there was no choice more obvious than walking along the pier, they had planter boxes and sculptures and similar. He thought surely that would perk Spectre up, even a little, but he was wrong. Really wrong.

Spectre followed at a few paces and Ryoken couldn’t bring himself to grab Spectre’s hand and all but make it a date. But Ryoken was afraid that he might hurt Spectre again, like when he had hugged him yesterday. He stood in front of one planter box and looked out to the water which shone with the oncoming hues of dusk. He pointed at the flowers. He thought they were pretty, all their tiny buds and the wiry stems of a grey-green.

“Hey, Spectre, can you tell me any fun facts about this variety?” he asked. He thought that they were peonies, but he wasn’t sure.

Spectre caught up and he instead mumbled, “I don’t like the crowd here.”

Ryoken glanced around. There were less people here than he thought; maybe they were all crammed inside the bars and restaurants along the pier. But he nodded. He knew that Spectre had never been overly fond of public places and big crowds and all their social batteries were running on empty. It was understandable; it was also excusable.

“Okay,” Ryoken replied, a little downhearted and rejected, “let’s go home.”

“Thank you, sir.” Spectre sounded a little bit happier.

Ryoken had wanted to linger longer along the pier but if Spectre wanted to go home, then they would both go home. They walked back and again, Spectre remained a few steps behind Ryoken. Normally, he didn’t mind, but it felt more indicative of something else given the events of yesterday.

At dinner, Spectre hardly ate again and was the first to retire to bed, Ryoken gave him the space he clearly wanted by washing the dishes but the repetitiveness of cleaning up today and yesterday’s meals, gave him too much time to be inside his head worrying about Spectre. After finishing up, wiping down his hands, Ryoken retired to his and Spectre’s room. He saw that Spectre was sleeping on his side again. It was still unusual, he tended to prefer to sleep on his back and it made Ryoken wonder, was he actually asleep?

So, he prompted him, “Spectre?”

“Yes, sir?” he replied tiredly.

“Are you sure you ate enough today?” Ryoken asked. “There’s snacks in the pantry if you want them.”

“I’m quite right, thank you for your concern.” He sounded scripted.

“Why is that?” Ryoken asked and he already feared the truth, should he elicit it at all.

“It’s simple.” Spectre scoffed. “Losers don’t eat.”

There it was. Ryoken was surprised that Spectre had said that at all, but he was glad to be told the truth, no matter how terribly electrifying, like a live wire come loose.

Ryoken settled on the bed. He wondered if now and here the right time for those sorts of conversations. He stole another look at Spectre. It was obvious he just needed time to lick his wounds and have some space. Ryoken closed his eyes and held the sheet up right, lying the other way to Spectre.

Dealing with him had been easier when he was a child. When he didn’t know all their tricks. When he had come to the mansion, and when the Lieutenants had actually managed to speak with one of the good doctor’s darling test subjects, it became increasingly obvious that there was something wrong with this child’s psyche. And that aberration had already been there long before he had been their test subject in the Hanoi Project.

Ryoken recalled that he would sometimes be schooled by the assistants in order to coach Spectre, engage him in therapy play and the like. Ryoken helped to teach Spectre his own emotions and the like, playing in very staged games and the like but at least in the moment, Spectre had never noticed because he had never really played with another child before. Eventually, once he had gotten good at it, they started him on identifying emotions and the like in other people and for better or worse, he had gotten very good at that as he had a naturally calculative mind.

But they weren’t children anymore and for better or worse, though he would deny it, possibly, Spectre had agency and, no doubt in his mind, Ryoken was both therapy and better than therapy. He would never own up to what he was feeling until he had repressed it and gotten better at masking and mirroring – like he had done in the Link VRAINS, Ryoken realised now. He knew there had been something a little too good about how Spectre had smiled there, in a cascade of glowing, golden specks. He had smiled a little too wide. He just wanted to be praised for going through the motions, following Ryoken’s sincere and earnest grin. So happy to be alive.

A few weeks passed like this. A sort of in-between where the pallor of awkwardness had receded slightly so Ryoken tested his waters again. It occurred to him that maybe the Earth Ignis, who was now wholly and utterly gone, had been holding up more of Spectre’s emotions than either of them had ever realised. Of course, there were other possibilities too. Maybe it was just a depressive slump, maybe it was something else with its roots in Spectre’s childhood and infancy, but either way, they to get back into the network and continue their mission. The Dark Ignis was still at large and therefore, still posed a threat and had to be eradicated. Yusaku was the only thing that stood between them and the final bout of their goal.

However, more mundanely, Ryoken hoped that exposing Spectre to people he knew, even if he wasn’t particularly close to them or even liked them, might inspire a change in him. Ryoken had been observing Spectre and he had taken to routine again, that was good. Getting up early, going to bed late, and doing all the errands and the like in between but he hadn’t absorbed back into his hobbies or the like which was worrying.

At least he came along with Ryoken on that particular mission. Ryoken wouldn’t have forced him if he said no as it wasn’t his thing at the best of times and in consolidation, Ryoken didn’t drag it out either. He said his hellos, he asked about the Ignis, he did his best to ignore Takeru who was hanging out at Café Nagi as well.

But it was just him who had said his hellos and said his bit. He had been hoping that Spectre would say something – anything, even just a hello – but alas. He just stood behind him at a few paces with a grumpy, scrunched up sort of expression.

They returned to the yacht not long after. Ryoken picked up two iced teas for them elsewhere, one for himself and one for Spectre, because Spectre wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, and especially not from Café Nagi, and whilst he didn’t really want it, he appreciated it. But both the one-use plastic drinks ended up on the table and they retired to their room together.

They sat on the edge of their bed; their feet almost meeting in the middle, but Spectre had angled himself away from Ryoken because regardless of if Spectre wanted it, Ryoken wanted to confront the weirdness between them.

“I’m sorry.” Ryoken started.

“Don’t.” Spectre intoned sharply but oddly disappointed.

“I noticed your mutism flared up around Playmaker and Soulburner earlier…” Ryoken said, and also at the iced tea kiosk but he didn’t mention that.

“Yes…” Spectre murmured.

“I just want to know,” Ryoken said, “is there anything I can do for you? I’m just really worried about you.”

“I know…” Spectre murmured. “I’m just having a hard time collecting my thoughts as of late.”

“I can tell.” Ryoken replied.

Spectre hazarded a smile because he knew that’s what Ryoken was likely probing him for.

“If you think of anything, anything at all, I want to help.” Ryoken said.

“I’d like to hear it.” Spectre blurted out suddenly, eyes watering. “I want to hear you say you won’t leave me behind or abandon me, please.”

Ryoken blinked. He was surprised but he also wasn’t surprised, so his expression softened.

“I won’t ever leave you behind, I promise, you mean the world to me Spectre, if I were to abandon you, I would be abandoning my whole world, please believe me when I say that, I love you.” Ryoken replied and then he realised what he had said. “You don’t have to say it back to me, don’t feel pressured, please.”

“I love you too.” Spectre said in a tiny voice and he smiled. It was small and twitchy and even a little uncertain but Ryoken knew it was genuine.

Ryoken smiled. “Can I hug you?” he asked. “Please.”

Spectre flashed him a look that made him look very fawnish and hurt but he instead said, “No.”

“Oh.” Ryoken murmured. Not quite a gasp but he couldn’t be surprised. It was Spectre’s decision; he would respect it even if it made his heart flutter.

“I want to hug you.” Spectre said with clarification, but he still carried this odd look about him.

Spectre got up and he sat next to Ryoken. His heart hammered in his chest. Ryoken felt similarly. Spectre hefted his legs up and he cuddled in, holding Ryoken at the bottom of his waist. He had this very petulant look of dislike on his face, but he closed his eyes. He listened to the swift beating of Ryoken’s heart. Ryoken smiled and put his arms around Spectre.

“Does it hurt?” Ryoken asked in a quiet voice.

“No, it doesn’t.” Spectre replied as a whisper.

Ryoken wanted to reply but he was fairly certain that his gladness was already conveyed as Spectre continued to settle. He didn’t seem all that uncomfortable anymore so Ryoken patted his back, stroking him gently.

#respectfulshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #ryoken kogami #kogami ryoken #spectre (vrains)#specter (vrains)#writing tag #i teared up twice: once whilst coming up with the idea and once whilst writing it #so im hoping that it elicits the same/similar reaction in anyone who reads it #i also hope i've respectfully portrayed the disorders i've written spectre as having too....

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 5 years ago

Text

And It All Came Tumbling Down Part 3

Request: Reader getting people out to safety gets hurt really badly and trapped, and Bruce has to save her

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Female!Reader, Dick Grayson

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: Graphic injuries, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: During a work party a call comes in that the Joker has planted a bomb somewhere in Gotham. You’re tasked with clearing your building when the unthinkable happens.

A/N: Thank you all for the love you’ve given this series, and I hope you like this last part! If you’ve enjoyed this series, I’ve got a question at the end of the chapter that I’d like some feedback to if you’re so inclined!

Part 3 of 3

Part 1 Part 2

You were falling. Down, down, down into never-ending darkness. There was a light up above. So faint it was barely discernible, but it was there. It led to safety but it was forever out of reach. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't grasp it.

You screamed but water flooded your lungs. It burned, choking you even as you fought for a breath.

The light above flickered out.

Something was covering your mouth, you could feel it pressing against your skin. You scrabbled at it desperately wanting to get it off as panic set in.

"Hey, hey, hey, Y/N. It's okay, you're okay." A voice spoke from somewhere up above, a warm hand coming to rest over your own. You recognized it.

Blinking your eyes open everything was blurry and unfocused. Someone was hovering over you though, and slowly Bruce came into focus, smiling down at you softly.

"Hey, baby," he said quietly, his free hand reaching for something over your head before coming down to brush some hair off your forehead.

You tried to say something back, what, you weren't entirely certain but something, but even thinking of words felt like effort, like your mind was filled with fog and you couldn't quite find what you needed. Gradually your surroundings were becoming more clear though.

You were in a hospital if the quiet beeping of machines were anything to go by. A private room. A nice one. There were flowers next to your bed. Your favorites. The thing over your mouth was an oxygen mask. You'd been trying to yank it off when Bruce had stopped you. Bruce…

He was still talking to you, nothing important, just quiet little things to keep you calm and comforted. He looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, he hadn't shaved in several days, and there was a nasty looking gash slicing along one side of his jaw. He still had a hand over yours, fingers entwined now.

You managed a smile at him, and the worry in his eyes instantly faded some. You tried to take the mask off with your other hand, wanting to try and say something again but found that it was covered in a cast that went up to your elbow. Oh.

How hurt were you? Was that the reason for Bruce's worry? You couldn't feel any pain, but you couldn't feel much of anything other than a dull ache in your chest. The fall. The water. Anything could've broken. Was that why you couldn't feel?

"Shh, you're okay." Bruce must've seen the panic rise again. "The Doctor will be here in a minute to explain everything."

He seemed so certain that it was impossible to not believe him. As long as he was next to you, you could deal with anything anyway.

The Doctor came in soon after just like Bruce had said, and checked you over before asking some simple questions. It was still an effort to speak, but you managed and he seemed happy enough. You noticed Bruce's shoulders relax some.

You were told you were lucky. That the falls you took could've been enough to kill you on their own, without the additional injuries. The worst had been the wound to your side. The second fall had ripped it out, doing worse damage, but the Doctor assured that they'd managed to repair it, and there was nothing to worry about. On top of that, there had been two head wounds, which explained the questions, several broken ribs and hairline fractures, a broken forearm, a torn knee ligament, a punctured lung, and enough scrapes and bruises that there were more damaged areas than not.

After that, you weren't really surprised when he said about the amount of painkillers you were on to keep you comfy.

Bruce thanked the Doctor when he was done with a shake of the hand, then returned to his seat next to your bed, your hand in his once again.

When you were alone, you smiled at him again. "You got to me."

"Told you I would," Bruce smiled back, kissing the back of your hand gently.

"What happened?" You asked, motioning to the cut on his face.

"This? Sharp piece of rubble. I've had worse."

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment while you enjoyed the comfort of just having Bruce next to you.

"The others? Did they get out?"

"Yeah. There were a few minor injuries, but that's it. You saved them."

It didn't feel that way, but it was a relief to hear. "Joker?"

"Tracked him down the night after and sent him back to Arkham."

"Thank God." You slumped into the bed, not noticing how tense you'd been. Everything was okay now. You were alive, Bruce was there. You needed to talk but it could wait.

"You should get some rest." Bruce must've seen you were still exhausted and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"You too. Look awful."

"Thanks," Bruce chuckled. "I'll get some sleep later. Focus on yourself."

"'kay." Closing your eyes again, you kept Bruce's hand in yours as you drifted off back to sleep.

The following days were mostly a blur of slipping in and out of consciousness. Bruce was there every time, occasionally joined by Alfred or Dick. You talked a little to them, but mostly it was still too much effort, and easier to just slip back off into sleep again.

The next time you woke, you ached. The Doctors had been reducing some of your pain meds and you were starting to feel it. For a moment you thought you were by yourself for once, but a rustle of paper had you looking to the corner of the room to see Dick sitting there reading a book.

It was the first time you'd seen him by himself since you first came to.

"Hey," you said, drawing his attention. "What you doing over there?"

"Didn't want to disturb you," he answered, marking the page he was on then set the book down.

You smiled gently and held out your good arm towards him. "Come here." Waiting until he moved around to sit by your side, you asked, "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Sure? You don't look so certain."

Dick nodded, "Yeah. Just glad you're awake. You were out for so long, I didn't know-" his voice cracked when he cut himself off, looking down at his hands.

"I'm gonna be fine, Dick."

"I know, I just…can't lose you too."

Your heart broke for him right then and used what strength you had to tug him in for a hug. It was awkward, holding yourself at an angle that didn't hurt too much was a strain, but it was worth it to feel his arms around you, being so careful not to squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

"You nearly did." Dick's voice was quiet when he pulled away, letting you relax again. "I got to the roof where B had you, and you weren't moving. You weren't breathing! And Bruce…I've never seen him like that."

"Like what?"

"Scared. He didn't say anything, but I could see it. He thought he'd lost you too."

It was difficult to know what to say to that. Dick wasn't the only one who'd never seen Bruce scared. He'd always been unshakeable, the one to spread the fear not feel it, so it was a difficult image to conceive. Maybe Dick had just been projecting, looking to see his own fear in someone else. Because it just didn't make sense for Bruce to be scared. Why would he?

The things you'd been feeling before the attack had faded, lost to the pain and fear and then the relief of being alive, but now they were trickling back, feeling like lead in your stomach. Bruce would've been concerned for your safety, sure. Just like he was concerned for every civilian's safety. But you couldn't shake the feeling that was as far as it went. Being scared would suggest feelings you weren't entirely sure he had for you.

Dick must've noticed something because he was frowning, "Are you okay?"

Shaking yourself out of it, you nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Still a little out of it I guess."

He looked far from convinced, but the concern made you smile. Bruce had taken him in before you two had gotten together, but there'd always been a connection between Dick and you. Perhaps that was why Bruce had originally asked you out. It made sense.

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Bruce knocked and entered the room carrying a fresh bunch of flowers.

"Hey, you're awake," he smiled, setting the flowers down before leaning over to kiss your forehead.

"Came to a little while ago. Dick and I have been catching up." You avoided Bruce's eyes when you spoke, something he didn't fail to miss.

Digging into his pocket, Bruce pulled out his wallet and handed Dick some cash. "Give us a minute?"

Dick looked between you both for a moment, then nodded and tucked the money away. He gave you another quick hug, then exited the room, probably off in search of food.

Bruce waited for the door to click shut, then sat down wearily, tugging the knot of his tie loose as he did so. The dark circles under his eyes had faded some over the last week, and he'd shaved now, but he still looked a little worse for wear. He was watching you, or studying more like, taking in every detail, trying to figure out what you were thinking. "I'm sorry."

That wasn't what you'd expected him to say. "For what?"

"Everything. For ditching the party, for asking you to be the one to get people out. For putting you in danger. You nearly died because of me."

He was sincere, you could see it in his eyes. He meant every word, harbored the guilt. Only it made your own guilt worse. "Not your fault. Didn't tell me to stay behind."

"You did exactly what I would've done. Saved all those people. But you shouldn't have been in the position to make that choice. That's on me."

"No. Bruce, it's not. No one forced me, and like…like you said, it's what you would've done."

"You aren't me though, Y/N."

"I wanted to be! I thought...I thought if-" You cut yourself off, turning your head away from him.

"Thought what?" When you didn't answer, Bruce took your hand, squeezing it gently. "Talk to me, please."

"I...thought…I thought if I was like you…I'd be a hero too and you'd think I was important." The final words came out rushed, heat spreading across your cheeks at the admission.

"Y/N…" Bruce's hand was on your face, guiding it back to look at him. He looked wounded, "Why would you not be important?"

"Because you never forget important things."

You could see the realization dawn in his eyes and would've turned away again if it wasn't for Bruce's hand still on your face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, "You're important. You always have been. I fucked up, I know I did, but I love you, more than I ever could say. Never think otherwise, please."

It was impossible not to believe him. The genuine sincerity, the pain, the love, it was all there, plain to see. That openness, the vulnerability he so rarely showed, along with what he said, made you nod. "Okay."

Bruce smiled softly and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I don't have an excuse for forgetting, but I want you to know that I didn't. Not completely. I knew it was coming up, I bought a gift, then, the days got so muddled between work and patrols, I just didn't realize it had come up so quick. It won't happen again.”

You believed him. It still stung, but it was understandable. And at least he hadn’t entirely forgotten. “Always next year to make sure things go better.”

“Yeah. But if you'll have me, I can rearrange what I planned this year. Just go a little later."

"Go where?"

"To Rome. I arranged for us to have a weekend there for your birthday."

"Rome?"

"You said you always wanted to go."

You were about to protest, say that you'd never told him that, then you remembered. A couple of years ago you'd told him a board member wasn't available since he'd gone on vacation to Rome, and mentioned in passing that you were jealous and wanted to go. Bruce hadn't acknowledged it at the time, and you'd assumed he'd been too preoccupied with paperwork to pay attention. Apparently, he had been. "You remembered that?"

"I remember the important things."

The words shouldn’t have hit hard, but they did, and you could feel the tears burn at your eyes. It was such a dumb thing to cry over, but there you were, crying because he’d noticed one small fact. Maybe it was because you were still exhausted from everything, or maybe it was because it smashed all the thoughts you’d been having to pieces.

“What’s wrong? We can go somewhere else if you want? Back to France, or somewhere else altogether.” Bruce had moved from his seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of you so he was as close as he could be, gently reaching forward to brush the tears away.

“No. No, Rome is perfect. It’s just...I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bruce stretched, letting his forehead rest against yours, a hand slipping to idly stroke your hair.

You wished he could be next to you, that you could feel his arms around your waist, but the bed was too small, and though the two of you probably could’ve squashed on, it would’ve hurt.

At least he was there, you still had him and he had you, and for the moment, that was enough.

The room was dark when you awoke with a start, cold beads of sweat coating your skin. Your breaths came in harsh ragged pants, loud in the silence.

You'd been home a week now, and so far the nightmares had stayed at bay. Until tonight. Tonight you'd found yourself trapped all over again, falling endlessly, freezing water forcing its way in your body. Bruce was above you, yelling your name, but unable to reach you. Knowing now how scared he'd been that night made it all so much worse.

You sighed, using your good arm to sit yourself up in the bed. The space next to you was empty and undisturbed. Not surprising. You'd talked Bruce into going back out on patrol again. He'd been by your side since your return to the manor, and while you appreciated it, you'd convinced him that a return to normality would be for the best.

Now you wished you hadn't.

Your injured leg protested as pushed yourself out of the bed, though it settled down once you were steady, the knee brace doing its job well, and headed into the bathroom. You could always text Bruce. He'd be home in a flash if you needed him, but the city needed him too. And it was late enough that it probably wouldn't be long before he returned anyway.

Splashing some water on your face, you looked yourself over in the mirror. There'd been no nightmares, but you hadn't slept much either, content most nights to just lay in Bruce's arms, and it showed. Tomorrow. You’d sleep tomorrow when Bruce was back home and you could spend the day in bed together. It'd be nice.

Not really wanting to do anything, and not wanting to risk disturbing Alfred when he was watching over Bruce and Dick, you decided to just head back to bed. Sleep would evade you until Bruce was home, but at least you could be comfy. The full-length mirror in the bedroom stopped you in your steps first. It glinted in the moonlight that filtered through the gap in the curtains, drawing your attention to it.

You clicked a light on and stood in front of it, taking in the full length of your body. The brace was kinda clumpy so shorts had been your best sleep option, and an old t-shirt belonging to Bruce was comfy enough to cover the rest of you. The cast on your arm was still there, though by now it was covered in graffiti of little birds thanks to Dick. Raising the shirt you could see bruises that were now almost faded, and the lesser of the cuts nearly gone, with just slight discoloration where the new skin had grown to mark their presence.

Then, of course, there was the bandage on your side, masking the stitches that lay beneath. They'd be coming out soon, and then you'd be able to see the scar for the first time. You'd already been warned that it wouldn't be pretty. The exact opposite.

It was the first time you'd really stopped to look at yourself, to take in everything that had happened. You touched the bandage gently, fingers ghosting over it.

You'd gotten lucky. Way too lucky. By all rights, you should've died.

Fuck.

The thought slammed into you.

In the weeks since you'd come to you hadn't stopped to think about that, too busy reassuring everyone that you were fine and alive. You'd come so close to dying. By all rights, you had died. You knew the trouble Bruce had getting you breathing again. If it hadn't been for him…

"You should be in bed."

You turned sharply to see Bruce in the doorway, dressed in sweats and t-shirt, home for the night.

The tremble spread through your body, legs shaking as you tried to keep upright. "Bruce…" Your voice came out quiet, cracking at the first sob that wracked its way through your chest.

Your legs gave out from under you, but instead of hitting the floor there were arms around you, pulling you into a solid chest.

It only made you cry harder.

Bruce held you to him, letting you sob into his shirt, whispering to let it out as one hand rubbed your back. You clung to him, as though you'd fall away if you didn't.

"'M'sorry," you mumbled when you could finally speak again.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing." Bruce kissed the top of your head, and moved you both to the bed, being careful of your injuries, but still making sure you were against his chest. He had you propped up, back to his front.

You twisted slightly so you could bury your face in his neck. "I stopped breathing." Bruce's arms tightened a fraction around you, and you didn't need to see his face to know he was schooling his own reactions. "If you hadn't saved me, I…"

"I'm always going to save you. No matter what it takes."

Closing your eyes, you nodded. "I know. I do. It just-"

"Doesn't make what happened easier."

"Yeah."

Bruce ran a hand over your arm, letting you both sit in silence for a minute. It was nice. Having him there calmed you. You never felt safer than when you were like this. "If you want, if it'll help, I can get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. Best in the city," he said after a while.

It was a perfectly sensible idea, one that wasn't unappealing, but it made you cringe nonetheless. "You've been through worse and don't need to see one," you whispered.

Bruce shifted and lifted your head, "Y/N, I run around dressed as a bat. I think there are plenty who'd say I need to see one."

You couldn't help it. You laughed. For the first time in weeks, you laughed. It was absurd, to hear everything Bruce did be minimized down to that, especially from him, and that's what made the whole thing so funny. It must've triggered something in Bruce too because he was laughing with you, and for a few minutes everything felt normal again.

The two of you came down slowly, Bruce playing with your hair as he smiled at you. "So, do you? Want an appointment?"

You nodded. "Please. Think I need some help with it all."

"Okay." The total lack of judgment in Bruce's eyes made it all the easier to admit to wanting help. "I'll look into in the morning."

"Thank you."

"Anything for you." Bruce kissed you and it was easy to lean into it, to let him guide it and pull a quiet moan from you.

You broke apart and Bruce smiled, brushing some hair from your face. "Hold on a second. I've got something." He pulled away carefully and reached into one of the drawers by the side of the bed. When he returned, he handed you an envelope. "I was going to wait and take you to dinner first, but…"

You opened the envelope, pulling out the two slips of paper that lay inside. Tickets to Rome. The date was for a couple of months, enough time for you to finish healing. It was the return date that made you raise an eyebrow. "These are for a week."

"I think Gotham can survive a week. It still has Robin and if anything happens the jet can have us back in a few hours."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

A grin crept its way onto your face, tucking the tickets back away so you could wrap an arm around his shoulders. It hurt a little but compared to everything else it was nothing, and for the moment you couldn't care less. You were happy and excited, and utterly in love with a man who obviously loved you back.

Bruce returned the grin and kissed you again.

Things were going to be okay.

A/A/N: Hey! So while the main story of this series is done, I’m considering doing a bonus chapter set between parts 2+3. It’ll be Batman and Robin tracking down Joker and taking him in. Basically, I want to write about a Very Mad Bat, and this seemed like the best way to do it! So if that’s something you want to see, let me know!

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever)

Tagging: @medicatemedrmccoy @thefanficfaerie @weresilver-in-space @theravenkingishome @abigailadams1788 @iwillmakeyoucraveme @ishouldvebutdidnt @wonhos-world @electricprincess888 @cuddlememerrick @slytherinsheashire @kacchasu @generalgoldfishldrm @dc-marvel-girl96 @sagyunaro @padfoot-siriusly-approves @mybabyboytony @imaginethatwow @thearcher7 @notsohappysunflower @quoththe-raven @startrekstartrash @thatanonymouschocolate @eternalabysss @megarichoo-blog @verdonafrost @huntersstuff591 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #Bruce wayne #Batman #dc imagine #dc comics

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feistypaants-archived · 5 years ago

Text

Between The Pipes [Chapter 32]

Rating: M Words: 2650 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: I think you've all waited long enough for this chapter, and I'm so, so grateful to all of u for sticking around through all the nonsense.

We're almost to the end here, lads. Thank u for coming along this journey with me :')

Enjoy!

It had been two days and no other symptoms had arisen, so Kristoff felt pretty safe to start doing some light activities. He set a silent alarm, got up at the crack of dawn, did his best not to wake Anna, and then headed out for a short, slow walk around the neighborhood. The brisk air was doing wonders for him, and he felt a sigh of relief wash over his whole body as he took in a deep breath.

He was so, so grateful for Anna, but she had become just a little bit on the side of unbearable over the last few days. At first it had been cute - a little tease and a little game. If the list said no, she said no. He’d pout and she’d kiss him and he’d let her win the disagreement, then she’d kiss him again and say thank you and he’d let it go. But then he told her he had been feeling a lot better - his headache was easing, there was no more dizziness, and he was able to stay awake for much longer intervals. But she was still insistent.

The thing was, he’s had worse injuries than this, and he always worked through them alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having this wonderful woman doting on him, but he felt… guilty. There was no need for it, he was fine, and Anna had her own things to worry about. There wasn’t any reason she should be focusing so much of her attention on him.

He had even tried yesterday, to ask how she was feeling - what she wanted to do, if she wanted to talk about it. But she had shut him down saying there would be time to talk about it later, really, and he should just worry about getting better. Kristoff dropped it because he wasn’t sure if it might lead to an argument, but she seemed relieved so he supposed he had made the right choice.

After about an hour, the sun was fully risen and his neighbors were starting to emerge, so Kristoff figured it was just about time to make his way back home. He hadn’t taken two steps through the doorway before he heard her feet running on the wood floor. “Hey ba-- Anna?”

She had tears in her eyes and her hands were on his face and she was frantic as she scanned her eyes up and down his body.

“Anna, baby, what’s wrong?”

“I… I didn’t know where you were.” She swallowed and locked her eyes onto him, panic evident. “I woke up and you were gone I… I was so worried. Are you okay?”

He felt his hackles raise. This was bordering on ridiculous. “Come on, I just went for a walk.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands to rest between them. “You’ve got to calm down. I’m not going to die.”

Her brows furrowed as she looked at anything but him and he felt a small hint of guilt seep into his irritation. “I…” she pulled her hands from his grip and crossed them across her chest. “I know, I… I just…” More tears welled up in her eyes as she tried her best to subtly wipe at them. “You were so motionless. You didn’t move. I thought… I didn’t know…”

Ah, fuck.

Immediately moving forward, Kristoff pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry.” He knew how it looked, how it felt, to watch someone you cared about get hurt like that. He should have known she had some reason to react the way she had been. He should have been more aware. He sighed with relief when her arms tightened around his waist. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Over breakfast that morning, after they had talked through her worries a little more, Kristoff simply grinned and said “you know, they recommend light exercise. Nothing strenuous, but as long as it isn’t making things worse, doctors think it helps concussion recovery.” Her eyes narrowed and he shrugged. “You should come with me. Then you’ll know I’m good.”

Anna had twisted her lips to the side as if to stop from smiling, and nodded. “I’d like that.” Then, after a moment of hesitation, “you’re okay with me coming along? I know… I know I’ve been a lot… I’d understand if you wanted some time alone.”

Kristoff felt something in his chest, felt an absolute warmth spread through his veins as he realized that, fuck, he never wanted alone time. Not anymore. Not from Anna. Everything was better by miles when she was with him.

“No, Anna. I always want you around.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as her cheeks darkened and a soft smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “... Okay.”

It hit him then, as she popped a forkful of pancake between her lips, still smiling up at him with a new glimmer in her eye, that he was ready. He was so fucking ready because any more time spent with Anna not knowing how much he loved her was time wasted.

But he needed it to be perfect. He needed the day, just the rest of the day, to figure out what he wanted to say. Then he’d tell her tonight over dinner and…

He just hoped she’d say it back.

—

Kristoff had been feeling a little run-down so he had settled in for a quick nap after their late lunch. He knew the both of them and knew very well that they wouldn’t actually go to bed until after midnight, so he figured a short little power nap at three wouldn’t hinder his ability to sleep tonight too badly. But he couldn't sleep anyway. His mind was going too quick and it was too frazzled to even attempt to settle down.

Maybe the focus and stress weren’t exactly good for him, but he could only imagine how much better he’d feel once she knew. He had been hiding it for months, locking it away somewhere he only knew, and it was about time he let her in on the not-so-little secret.

The problem was, how on earth was he supposed to tell her?

He couldn’t be casual about it, not now. The three little words were so important to both of them, and he knew he couldn’t just drop a nonchalant I love you. It wouldn’t be enough.

No, he had to tell her how much she changed his life. How much he admired her. How much she truly meant to him. And he had to do it in a way that didn’t make him sound so fucking stupid.

Kristoff dragged a pillow over his face and groaned. He had never been the best with words, not even when it really mattered, and he hated how much he knew he was going to fuck this up. How hard was it to formulate a coherent sentence letting someone know how truly special they were? How hard was it to just fucking tell a girl you loved her?

He could say, Anna, I know we’ve been dancing this line for months, but I need you to know that I love you.

No.

He could try, Baby, you’ve changed my life, and I’ve loved every minute of our time together.

Fucking no!

Anna, you’re the most beautiful, brilliant, amazing woman that has ever graced this earth.

Too much.

Anna, you’re the most spectacular person I know.

Better

I can’t imagine my life without you.

Close.

I’m in love with you.

Simple.

Good.

Throwing the pillow to the floor, Kristoff stretched just a little before he got out of the bed. He had a couple more hours to really nail it down, and he knew, deep down, that it didn’t matter what he said… It was the heart behind it that mattered most. With a sigh, he stepped back out into the hallway and padded down to the living room as quietly as possible. He was honestly surprised that he didn’t hear the television on. He was surprised that he didn’t hear much of anything, actually. Anna usually hated silence.

He peered around the corner, not wanting to risk waking her if she had fallen asleep, and was almost hurt by what he saw in front of him. She was sitting on his laptop at the table, red eyed and puffy cheeked, tearstained and sniffling as she scrolled downwards, wiping an irritated fist at her face. “Seriously?” she let out a heavy breath and rolled her neck back, jumping when she saw him.

“Oh, hi!” Her demeanor changed instantly. “You feel all right? How was the nap?”

“Anna.”

She pushed the chair out and turned her back to him as she wiped at her face. “Want some tea? I was just about to make some.”

“Anna.”

She darted into the kitchen, ignoring him completely. “Two sugar? Any milk? I like mine sweet but I know you’re not a sweets guy I just can’t remember if you want milk…”

Kristoff stepped forward and came up behind her in the kitchen, bracing one arm on either side of her petite frame. He was almost grateful she had stopped talking. He hated when she got avoidant and would do anything for her to just talk to him about what was going on. He leaned down just enough to rest his chin on her shoulder and press his cheek against hers. “Baby,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her as she settled back into his embrace. “What’s going on?”

“I…” He closed his eyes when her fingers started scratching lightly against his forearms. “I’m worried that I won’t find a job, and if I can’t find a job, then I can’t afford my apartment, and if I can’t afford my apartment, then I have to move back home. And If I have to move back there, then my father was just right about me and about everything and then I’ll be far away from here and what if you only like me because I’m just here and if I leave what if everything changes and I lose all of you and --”

A hiccupping sob cut her off.

“Ah, jeez, Anna…” He started walking them towards the couch, smiling at her small laugh as he rocked her whole body back and forth as they walked. “All right, let’s…” They sat together, her immediately drawing her legs up to lay over his lap as she pressed her forehead into his neck. “Let’s talk this out.”

“Okay…”

Kristoff began tracing his fingers up and down her bare leg, every so often squeezing gently at her skin. “So… job.”

Anna sniffled.

“You didn’t really wanna do the whole television personality thing, right?”

She nodded.

“You’ve got a degree in… Graphic design, yeah?”

She nodded again, laughing. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“Well,” he pressed a soft kiss against her hairline. “Things about you are hard to forget.” He smiled when she laughed, grateful for the positive reaction. “Right so… Is that something you wanted to do?”

She nodded. “I always thought I’d enjoy doing marketing and stuff like that. Or… like, concept work. I don’t know.”

“All right, well, why don’t you take some time then? Figure it out? You…” His arm wrapped around her back squeezed a little tighter. “You deserve to take time to figure out what you want, you know that right?”

A moment of silence and a nod.

“But… money… and my apartment…”

Kristoff shrugged, words tumbling from his lips before he even knew what he was saying. “I mean, I’ve got a spare room. You can just move in here for a bit if you want to. You…” Then it hit him, and he felt his whole face scrunch up. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Anna was sitting up, her brows raised as she looked over his face, but he immediately turned his eyes to stare at the carpet. Fuck he was so fucking stupid.

“That… Do you mean that?”

He felt his cheeks grow hotter. “I mean. Yeah. If you want. And like, I’ve got the spare room so you’d have your own space. And you’re here most nights anyway?” Oh stop talking you idiot. “It’s, I mean, obviously,” a laugh, “up to you? But yeah I mean, it wouldn’t… put me out or anything and it would give you some flexibility? And… I don’t know. I just… yeah.”

Kristoff risked one glance up at her from the corner of his eye and felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t read her, couldn’t even come close to figuring out what she was thinking.

“Can you say something now?”

Her palm was on his cheek and she was turning him gently to face her. “I’m…” She swallowed and let out a wet laugh before she smiled. “I’m going to say something and… And you don’t have to say it back, okay?”

Wait. Hang on. He was supposed to do this first. He wanted to be the first to say it, wanted to fucking say it before he asked her to fucking move in and shit, he was the worst at this.

He nodded anyway.

“I… am so in love with you… and I… shit.”

Kristoff let out a heavy sigh as he smiled. God, that was genuinely the most amazing thing he had ever heard in his entire life. He wanted to hear it over and over and fucking over again.

“I want to be with you all --”

“Wait.” He clapped his hand over her mouth before immediately removing it and apologizing at her shocked eyes. “Sorry. Okay, wait. I’ve… I messed this up.”

Her smile faltered just slightly. “... Do you not want me to move in? Because… that’s okay.”

“Oh, jesus, god, no.” He was shaking his head rapidly before realizing how dumb that was and that his headache had just slightly worsened from the movement. “No, I want that so much.”

Anna nodded, her eyes growing a little worried. “Okay. So…”

“I’ve… literally been trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing all day.” He pushed his hair out of his face and turned to look at her, the blush on her cheeks glowing under her freckles.

“... What?”

“You beat me to it. And I went out of order.” His hand lifted to scratch at the back of his neck. “I probably should have told you I loved you before I asked you to move in -- wait, god damn it.” He’d never get this right, would he?

“You love me?” That sparkle in her eyes was breathtaking.

“Fuck, wait. Of course I do. But I… was planning this whole… speech. Hang on.” He shifted them then, lifting one leg onto the couch so he could properly face her, and took both of her hands into his. “You’re… You’re genuinely the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. Anna, you’re kind, and beautiful, and brave, and funny, and you… Well you put up with me which makes you patient as hell. And I… I never, ever thought I’d ever find this. But… it’s you. It’s only you. You’re perfect, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m… I’m not scared anymore, Anna. I am so, so in love with you I almost can’t bear it.”

He decided he had to be okay with how it happened. He wasn’t ever going to be perfect, but he knew he’d never meant anything more in his life.

And then her whole face contorted, and large tears started falling from her eyes, and fuck, he did it wrong, because now she was crying and sobbing and “Anna baby, Anna… What did I do wrong?”

She practically leapt off the couch, into his arms, and pressed her nose into his neck. “Nothing, god, you’re… you’re perfect. I love you so much.”

Fuck, he’d never get tired of that.

#btpfic #feistypantswrites

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daffodilon · 6 years ago

Text

cafune

cafuné - (brazilian portuguese)

"the act of running your fingers through your lover's hair; among the few words that cannot be directly translated into english"

Pairing: Jungkook / ♀ Reader Rating: M for Mature Genre(s): 🍭 Fluff, 💔 (like five seconds of) Angst, 🔞 Smut WC: 9,458 Warnings: Sexual content, porn with feelings, dry humping, like i’m talking thigh riding, coming in pants, dirty talk, discussion of exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics if you squint, baby boy jungkook, uhhh swearing, mentions of drinking to the point of blacking out. God this sounds filthy but I promise it’s #soft If there’s anything I’ve forgotten to warn for please bring it to my attention!! I haven’t slept in two days I’d appreciate the help. This isn’t beta’d, either, so watch out for that too, I guess

Summary: [A kiss-and-confess in an alternate universe, originally written as part of a much larger chapter fic, my library/roommates au. It took off in another direction and no longer fits within the scope of that timeline, and the scene had to be re-written. So now this is a standalone getting-together oneshot, because it was too cute of a concept to scrap.] TL;DR: talking to Jungkook about your Feelings™ and making out for like 8k words. It’s, like, slowburn without the slow. So I guess that makes it... all... burn... 🔥 👀

p 01, 02

Theoretically, there’s a big difference between a kiss and a cup of tea. One might even call it obvious.

Indeed in practice, there’s a big difference between a kiss and a cup of tea.

Both in theory and in practice, kisses and teacups are difficult to confuse.

The point is, don’t ask how the hell you managed to screw that one up, because you don’t know, either.

What you know is, you knocked on Jungkook’s open bedroom door after putting the electric kettle on for yourself.

What you know is, he waved you in from where he sat on the bed, and you crossed the floor to peer over his shoulder at what he was working on, and he let you lean in close enough to glimpse the video editing program he had open for a quick look before he pushed the laptop closed and asked you how your day was.

What you know is, you gave him the radio edit, secured a promise from him to let you watch his project when he was finished, and then offered to bring him some tea, if he wanted any.

What you know is, he beamed at you in reply, eyebrows way up under his bangs, and he asked you for green tea.

Then, you grinned and told him, “Of course.”

Then, you turned to go. Your brain said, “Give him a cup of green tea.”

Now, theoretically, you know the difference between a kiss and a cup of tea.

Theoretically.

You kiss him instead.

It’s soft, and sweet with pent-up affection and syrupy endearment, and extremely quick.

It catches up with you pretty quick, after that. The fact that you’re awake, right now. The fact that you really did that, in real life, without a warning, without a word of precedent.

Your first instinct here is to get the hell out of dodge, and through the welling panic you make to get up and do just that, foolishly hoping you could avoid the consequences of your actions that way, or maybe at least postpone them.

Plan A doesn’t work out.

Thanks to his reflexes, Jungkook catches your wrist as soon as your eyes widen in realization and you move to slip off the bed and bolt. He stops you. Begs you oh, god no, don’t you dare to that to me, you can’t just kiss me and run away. Please, please don’t do that to me.

There’s nothing you can do but sit down again and he says, “I'm sorry but would you please, please talk to me. What- What was that?”

So you gather up every last shred of courage in your body to give him what he deserves: honesty. This isn’t Plan B. This isn’t even Plan C, but you no choice but to tell him.

How he’d looked so darling, all in white, sitting an arms length away. Warm and beautiful and relaxed, all fluffy hair and soft edges. That old, old familiar low simmering want had ballooned, expanded until the pressure maxed out and finally, finally burst. There wasn’t space inside your physical body to contain the expanse of it anymore, and you’d gone ahead and. Leaned down and kissed him.

But for any of that, you need words, and they aren’t making themselves available. Your useless brain churns out miserable sensation after miserable sensation, instead. You can feel the aftershocks of the inner explosion making your fingers tremble. Blood rushes in your ears, making your own voice sound like you’re underwater.

Words finally begin to tumble off your lips, but not the right ones.

“Oh, god. I’m, so, so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I- Jungkook, the truth is I'm in- uh. Like you? I like- love you. And. I got- caught up... I don’t know.”

One, two, three exceptionally long beats elapse. You think mildly that maybe this is the worst you’ve ever felt, recalling hangovers, recalling being stood up on a date when you were seventeen, recalling crying into Jimin’s shirt after Seokjin’s party. This train of thought continues until he demands,

“Say that again, without the apology. Tell me again, don’t say you’re sorry.”

So you tell him, again, but you’re about three beats per minute shy of cardiac arrest. You’re no doctor, but you’re reasonably sure.

“Jungkook, I'm in love with you. I’m s- wait, no, sorry, I'm. Shit. I should- do I start over? I’m,” You look up at the ceiling, blinking back the traitorous tears welling in your eyes and sigh once, “I’m so in love with you,” you finally get out, helplessly, only to get a shaky exhale in reply, and have to wait in excruciating silence for a number of seconds, while Jungkook works through his disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping maybe if you close them tightly enough, the tears threatening to overflow will stay trapped. It’s a good effort, but it doesn’t work.

Then you hear, between many stops and starts, “I’ve... um,” He clears his throat, so you open your eyes again, since you’re clearly fighting a losing battle here anyway, in time to see him reaching for your hand before drawing back at the last moment, unsure. “Kind of, always been... yours. Like, this whole time?” Which... what the hell does that mean? “I’ve... I’m... I didn’t think- I was so scared that- I just. It’s just that you have no idea how many times I've imagined you saying that to me. And literally... not a single one of those times did I ever imagine you would be apologizing for it in the same breath. Please tell me again.” You’re pretty sure you’re physically shaking at this point, but it’s good that he’s asking you for simple things, one at a time, seeing as your brain has shut off. Checked out, right before you decided kissing him was a good next move.

You force yourself to make eye contact with him as you say, “I- Okay. I love you? I’ve been in love with you since... for so long now. All right? So please, what the hell does that mean, ‘I've always been yours?’ You’ve always... you’re what?”

“I mean I'm yours. I mean I love you. I love you, too. Will you please kiss me again, so I can kiss you back, because I've been sitting here these past five minutes freaking out about this whole situation but also the fact that you probably think I'm a terrible kisser? Because of just now? I’m sorry, I just, the shock- and I'm not. I swear to god, I promise, I'm not, so please-”

You kiss him again, cutting him off mid-word, and, yep, oh, there’s a clear difference once he’s had time to react. He’s true to his word. But-

“Yeah, I know,” you murmur against his lips after a minute. The giddiness is finally beginning to catch up with you. Jungkook opens his eyes, it appears, with some effort.

“I- you what?” Holy fuck, he looks far away. It takes him a second to come back to himself enough to ask, “What do you mean?” His eyelids are heavy, and you can see his gaze trained on your mouth. The incredible way he looks this fucked out after a few seconds of kissing is really, really fucking distracting, and you almost forget what you were going to say.

“I know. I remember.” It’s not difficult to give in to the temptation to chase his lips again, between sentences, and you allow yourself to nip at his lower lip, like you’ve wanted to for so, so fucking long. But you do want to tell him, “Christmas,” before falling back into him again.

And Jungkook, poor thing, for all he’s good at kissing —giving as good as he gets and making your eyes want to roll back in your head and let him take, take, take what he wants— for all he’s very, very good at that, he’s just a little bit shit at multitasking. Carrying on this conversation is clearly, by degrees, becoming more and more difficult. You note with a little satisfaction that his chest is heaving slightly when he pulls back again, eyes still closed, but with a crinkle in his brow and his pretty, pink, kiss-swollen lips turned down at the corners in confusion.

“Christmas.” You can see him trying to remember, and yeah, you expected that, but. Ouch, anyway. You force yourself not to dwell on the number of times you’ve mentally re-lived that night, times he clearly hasn’t.

“Mhmm.” It’s too much to resist dipping back down for yet another quick kiss in between words. You’re getting addicted to it, it’s already clear. “‘S okay. You were pretty drunk,” you supply, pressing another kiss to the freckle beneath his lip, nosing along his jaw, kissing the skin there with every ounce of tenderness that’s taken up residence in your heart, piling up higher and higher over the past year, affection distinctly tinged with a powerful rush of relief overflowing in this moment as if to make up for how painful the past ten minutes were.

“Christmas... kissed you?” Jesus, he sounds wrecked. Might as well be drunk now, at two pm on a Sunday. “Kissed you... mistletoe?” A modicum of clarity makes its way into his tone, as you reach the soft patch of skin below his ear and graze your teeth there, and you’re pressed up so close against him that his full body shudder wracks you as well. A fresh flutter of butterflies almost makes you gasp, in response. You’d been completely sure he didn’t remember that night at all. “That was... at Christmas there was, I was, so much-” His breath catches as you kiss your way down his neck, giving special attention to the mole there, “So much eggnog. I was so sure that- that was a dream.”

“Mmm mm. Nope.”

“Not a dream?” Your kisses make their way along to the other side of his neck, kissing back up, toward the corner of his jaw, angling to get his breath hitching again, and it works, up until he wrenches his head to the side with effort, leveraging his hand, which had made its way into your hair while you weren’t paying attention, to move your head where he wants it, with his lips properly brushing yours again as he says, “Hang on a second. Hang on... No? Are you sure?” Jungkook’s voice has taken on a hoarse note you weren’t expecting. This, combined with the firm grip he has on your hair has a moan slipping out of your mouth before you can clamp your jaw shut, but you have to scoff.

“Am I sure? That that was a thing I lived through? Yes, Jungkook I'm sure.” His eyes are boring into yours, now.

He’s maneuvering you both, now, careful not to pull too hard on your hair, but not relinquishing his grip, either. Before you know it, you’re on your back, propped up against the pillows with Jungkook’s body caging you in from above. He kisses you again, harder, and hotter, a kiss that has you chasing his lips when he retreats far enough to continue,

“Wow. Okay back up a little bit, I need you to tell me what happened, then, because I have a memory and its...,” —another searing kiss, “Let’s just say it can’t be accurate from start to finish. Call it wishful thinking.” He pulls back again, to read your expression. You aren’t sure what he sees there, but it’s probably something along the lines of pure want. Probably. “I was definitely blacked out from Seokjin’s horrible rum concoction. Help me out here?’”

You take a moment to give yourself the benefit of a steadying inhale, because it’s very, very difficult to think straight under these conditions. Under Jungkook conditions. Literally under Jungkook, is your current condition. Jesus, his eyes are so, so dark. Your imagination straight up fails to even speculate what he could mean by that, tapping out before you can even try. It’s too much to think about.

“What? I don’t know what that means. What do you remember happening? Or think you remember happening?”

It was worth a try, but you get only a shake of his head.

“Nope. You first. What do you remember?”

“I um. We both went to Seokjin’s for his Christmas party?” Jungkook, to his credit, seems to quickly register that you’re having a little difficulty relating events back to him, and takes a measure more pity on your kiss-clouded mind than you on his, a moment ago. He must genuinely be invested in your answer, because he backs up a little, sitting back on his heels with his knees on either side of your hips. You miss him immediately, and try very, very hard not to make any sort of embarrassing whine in protest, and succeed... mostly.

“Uh huh. I remember being sober-ish at that point.” Jungkook corroborates, kindly ignoring the noise you made, except to smile to himself as he reaches for your left hand with his right, intertwining your fingers. This simple gesture somehow makes your heart flip again, even harder than at any other point tonight. You need his weight back, want his mouth again, so you rush a little through your version of events, noting certain major details.

“You wore dorky cardboard reindeer antlers.” His eyes flit up and to the right, clearly searching for a matching memory.

“... Oh. Uh huh.”

“We played some drinking games with Tae, plus some other people, got tipsy.”

“Mmm.”

Jungkook has drawn your interlocked hands up to his face, and begun to press featherlight kisses to the side of your thumb, the inside of your wrist. Your heart rate immediately doubles, and you note with a healthy dose of chagrin that he must be able to tell, with his soft mouth at your pulse point. The fresh rush of want and embarrassment that follows has you reeling, and when you go to continue, you find yourself stuttering. You can see clearly on his face that this leaves Jungkook feeling smug, but you don’t have the will to challenge him over it at the moment.

“I- I was also a little. A bit drunk. Then... I lost track of you for a little while, and then suddenly you were back.” You’re jumping ahead in the story now, but you can’t be blamed, because Jungkook’s mouth is tracing a soft, measured line down the inner skin of your forearm, making your heart start and stop. You had no idea that area would even be sensitive. You’re reasonably sure you’ve never been kissed there, before. “So it was me and you, in the kitchen,” you continue, reminding yourself to breathe, “And. uh. Um. Seokjin and his friend wouldn’t stop trying to get us both back out into the living room, and I couldn’t understand why, until finally,” Jungkook’s kisses reach your inner elbow, and he’s pressing closer again, eyes closed. He’s not currently watching your face, which helps you refocus enough to go on, “Finally I got it, only after we’d been shepherded over to the fireplace. And I looked up over your head and I saw the mistletoe, and I thought, this is it, this is the day I finally murder Kim Seokjin.”

When Jungkook huffs a laugh at this, the gust of warm air from his breath makes goosebumps break out all over your skin, and his eyes slot open to sparkle at you from a foot away, mouth still pressed to your upper arm. He’s smiling, and his next kiss to your bicep is tinged with a hint of teeth as he hums for you to continue. You do your best to keep your voice from sounding strangled. “But I looked down from the mistletoe to your stupid fucking antlers, and they were crooked? So I just. Um. I reached out and at first I thought I was just going to fix them. And then I. That’s not what I did.”

“No, it isn’t, is it?” Now Jungkook’s close enough to kiss on the mouth again, so you close the distance, too needy, too earnest. But he kisses back equally as honest, and after a moment, it seems he hasn’t heard enough. “Then what?”

You sigh.

“Then I. Think mostly it was rum driving the bus at that point? I just kind of said, fuck it. And I kissed you, because... because I wanted you.” Which, oops. It’s definitely, one hundred percent, completely true, but you had sort of meant to say “wanted to.” Oh, well.

“That sounds familiar.”

“Yeah?” Even to your own ears, your voice sounds breathless.

“Yeah,” He leans in again, this time only to brush noses and ask, “Tell me again.” It takes you a moment to understand what he wants to hear, but you work it out after a short second.

“Huh? You mean tell you I like you? I’m in love with you, Jeon Jungkook. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Another kiss, warm and soft, heavy with what feels like the weight of a lot of pent-up want and postponed feelings. You figure you can take that as a yes.

Jungkook sits back up a little, eyes crinkled and sparkling with his smile as he picks up the previous conversation as if the little detour that put it there hadn’t even taken place.

“I wanted you, too. But I feel like I remember being so drunk I didn’t know where my hands were,” he confides. You wince.

“I... yeah. That’s the thing, I’m so sorry, Jungkook, I could tell you were drunk, I shouldn’t have kissed you when you were so far gone. I- I’ve beat myself up about that since the minute I did it, when I pulled away and the bubble popped and suddenly I could- I could hear all the hooting and whistling.” Your cheeks are definitely coloring at that part of the memory, but this is something you need to get out. “I never should have taken advantage of you like that. I was drunk too, but not as far gone as you were, and I should have-”

“Oh, my god, please. Cut that out. Don’t, don’t don’t don’t do that. Don’t even think about it.,” he cuts you off, “I’ve heard about enough today of you apologizing for liking me. As for the consent thing... I literally- there’s nothing I’ve wanted more in the world, drunk or sober, than to kiss you, for like. The longest time. The most miserable, longest time. I’d consent to you doing... literally anything to me, any time you wanted—” And uh, that is a whole other big issue you don’t even know where to begin to unpack, so you start spluttering, but he rushes ahead before you can formulate a proper argument. “—You could chop my leg off. I trust you.”

This, for some reason, has your breath hitching all on it’s own, “But I realize you had no way of knowing that, until just now. So I'm sorry I let you stew in that guilt this whole time. I swear I really did think... I just couldn’t believe I’d be so lucky. I didn’t know it was real. Just.... you should know my only regret is that I can’t remember it better.” He stops for a moment, searching for your eyes, wanting to make sure you’re getting every word. His tone softens, “I remember wanting you, though. I’ll be honest, I’d forgotten all about the antlers until you brought it up. I remember talking to you in a kitchen... that’s all vague. I just remember thinking I wanted to kiss you so badly, I kept taking sips of eggnog just to have something to do with my mouth. In retrospect, maybe a different solution would have worked out better, because it seemed like every sip made it worse.” Jungkook chuckles, “I remember being so happy you were in my arms I thought I was going to throw up.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, throwing an arm over your eyes, only for him to tug it away, admonishing.

“Hey! No, not like that. Not drunk throwing up. Butterflies throwing up.” You have to roll your eyes, although a smile steals over your face.

“You sure about that? Because they feel pretty similar, in my experience.”

“Oh yeah? In your experience? Had a lot, have you?” He grins at you, making you swat his shoulder petulantly.

“Well, let me think. Seeing as how you like to come home from the gym with every vein in your arms bursting like they’re going to jump out of your skin, with your hair soaking wet, and then crowd all up in my space when I'm cooking, at least four days a week, every week, I'm going to go with —yes,” you gasp, as Jungkook picks that exact moment to utilize his new tactic of tugging your hair just this side of too hard, while also kissing down the side of your neck and biting down.

“You like that I go to the gym.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you huff, after a respectable period of recovery when you can speak again, “I don’t know where all this bravado is coming from when a minute ago you were so sure I couldn’t possibly like you back, you retconned an entire Christmas out of existence.”

“Yeah, well, I’m half convinced I’m dreaming as we speak, so, if I wake up in bed alone again I won’t be surprised.” He says this so matter of factly you have to stop him, pull back for a moment and stare at him incredulously.

“What? No, Jungkook, this isn’t a dream.” He’s already leaning in to kiss you again, eyes slipping closed, so you scoot back, out of reach. You need him to listen. “Jungkook.”

He sits back up, reluctantly, letting you push his shoulder and rearrange your positions so you’re each lying on your sides, facing each other. Less power balance in play this way, legs still securely entangled, one of Jungkook’s hands in two of yours, still close enough to feel each breath he takes tickling the backs of your hands. “Do you have a lot of conversations about dreams within dreams?” you prod a little, trying to make a point, “That’s so meta.”

“I mean, no. This isn’t Inception.”

It’s unexpected, and it has you laughing. “God, I fucking love that movie.”

You extract one hand to hold it up between you.

“Excellent taste, a man after my own heart. High five?”

Jungkook can only really tip forward and try to headbutt your palm with his forehead, because you’re hanging onto the one hand he’s not currently lying on top of and he doesn’t have much of a choice. “But don’t think I can’t tell you’re trying to change the subject. That’s what I remember, one really dreamy kiss that I have literally never been able to forget about every time I've seen you since Christmas. And then I... um. I needed air and I pulled back, and everyone was, uh. I guess it could be called cheering?” You wince at the memory of the cacophony. “It was like being catcalled by barn owls,” Jungkook’s turn to laugh. “Then I think... I just ran? To the bathroom? And uh. Cried for like twenty minutes, did like three extra shots of rum, called an uber. Went home and cried more and fell asleep and woke up to like a million missed calls from Jimin. That’s the night I had. So. What do you remember?”

“That’s horrible. That doesn’t sound nice at all, I'm so sorry. It was so bad you cried? Jesus Christ.”

“No, it’s not that at all. The kissing you part was, um. Really nice. Like, everything I wanted, nice. But it’s just that... it didn’t mean any of the things I wanted it to mean; it was just a friend kiss. A mistletoe prank kiss our shitty friends pressured us into and I knew that’s all it was to you—” Jungkook begins to protest here, so you correct, “—that’s all I thought it was to you, at the time. Except now I knew what it felt like, and the fact that it would probably never happen again and that was horrible. Is why I c- I cried.” You’ve been avoiding eye contact during this speech, but now you look up again and meet Jungkook’s gaze, and you can see a deep, deep sadness there.

“I am so sorry,” he says again. “Kiss me?” You have to disentangle one of your hands again to achieve it, but you lift one arm and give him another smack on the shoulder without any real power behind it. “Ow. Please?”

“No! What did you mean, ‘wishful thinking?’”

“Kiss first?”

“I swear to god, Jeon Jungkook, if you don’t-”

“-Fine! Fine, I’ll tell you. I just want one kiss and then I promise I will explain.”

“God, needy.” But you’re already leaning forward to catch his lips again. You never have been able to deny him anything he asked for, anyway. Your track record with telling him “No,” is a crapshoot.

You break apart again after falling headfirst back into his warmth and unsteady breathing, working with considerable effort to remain on topic. “It’s sex, isn’t it?”

And abruptly, Jungkook’s blank, wide-eyed panic face confronts your question.

“What? No, what- why- no, that’s not-” A beautiful flush works its way up Jungkook’s neck to his face, spreading across his skin like a glass of red wine toppled over on a tablecloth.

“That’s why you’re so squirrely about telling me, right? It was a sex dream?” You interrupt his stuttering, “Look, Jungkook, it’s fine, it’s not like I haven’t had-”

“No!!” he finally sputters, cutting you off. “I swear, that wasn’t it. I was about to tell- wait. You what? Not like you haven’t... what? Oh, my god.” Now it’s your turn to flush positively scarlet, as Jungkook’s head falls forward until his forehead connects with your collarbones, overwhelmed.

A moment passes. He’s not even saying anything.

Maybe you broke him?

“...Jungkook?”

“Uh huh. Yep, I’m here. Need a minute.”

“O- Okay.” You don’t know what to do, feeling phenomenally awkward, so you begin to tentatively run your fingers through his hair, detangling the strands and combing it softly with your hands. It’s getting long.

Air from Jungkook’s nose washes gently over your neck as he murmurs a pleased noise at the attention, and some muffled words into your throat.

“What?” you ask.

“I said, ‘You’re going to kill me.’”

You’re feeling playful, so you tell him, “At the risk of hyping myself up too much... I think it’s fair to say you haven’t seen anything yet, Jungkook-ah.”

It’s quiet, but you do still managed to catch his whispered, “Fuck,” along with a barely perceptible tightening in his grip where his hands grasp your sides. Then, at a more reasonable conversational volume, “I promise, it’s more like, I wanted to make sure I knew the accurate story first before I talked through what I remember dreaming, it’s not that it’s a sex thing and I’m not embarrassed to tell you about it.”

“Uh huh.” Your skepticism colors your tone well enough to have him lifting his head to let you see the honesty in his face.

“It isn’t!”

“Okay, okay. I believe you,” you tell him, unable to keep the beatific smile from your face at his expression, and he blinks, looking momentarily dazed.

“You have the most beautiful smile,” Jungkook tells you, eyes dropping to your mouth and then back up to meet your gaze, a sweet smile of his own crossing his face as he says it. “Oh my god, I have so many things I can say out loud now.”

Your blush is back with a vengeance, bringing up with it a vaguely hysterical giggle. You spare a brief thought to wonder when was the last time you felt this happy. The ballooning buoyancy of it fills your chest cavity like air in your lungs underwater, dragging your whole body up, up to the surface. You think it could pull you all the way up into the sky if you don’t hang onto the boy in your arms with all your strength to stay grounded. Love like helium in your lungs, his smile like a flame beneath the patchwork balloon and the tactile experience of having your hands in his hair, on his shoulders, body heat shared between you as ballast.

You’re still in this dizzy headspace, trying to imagine how to articulate this feeling to him when he continues, “It’s one of the reasons I first fell in love with you.”

The words are a bellows on the fire feeding all the floaty feelings and the experience is such a shock to your already overloaded system, you don’t know what to say or how to say it, instead continuing to blush to the tips of your ears and pulling him in by the drawstrings of his sweatshirt to connect your lips again.

He seems glad enough to meet you in the middle. He indulges you for a long minute; says, “My version of events is consistent with yours all the way up to mistletoe, I think. I was holding you, and I was finally kissing you, and then the rest of the night is a blur of Hobi-hyung telling me to just sleep in his bedroom, and then I think is where I started dreaming, because you were back. And you told me all kinds of things that I’d always wanted to hear, like this, and you climbed into my bed, like this. And you kissed me, like this. It felt warm, and it felt real, like it always does.”

“Oh, baby...” Is all you can say, and to you it seems ineffectual but hearing it makes Jungkook shudder and press closer. You note it carefully, with a rush of affection.

“It’s okay, though.”

“Do you believe you’re awake now?” you test him suspiciously, and watch him draw back an inch, eyes flitting around the room from himself, to the rumpled duvet, back to you for a beat and a half; then, curiously, he draws forward again, tucking his face under your chin, nuzzling his nose below your jaw where you spray your perfume, and breathes in. Your whole body locks up in response to the sudden closeness, and a wave of heat radiates out all over you directly from your core when you feel the unmistakable sensation of his tongue flitting out in an open mouthed kiss there, and then again, and then again.

“Mm... think ‘s real.” His voice is suddenly so much deeper than you’re used to, and you have to swallow, hard, in order collect yourself enough to speak, and still when you try at first it comes out as a bit of a squeak.

“Wh- What could you possibly have learned from that? Dream me never let you kiss my neck?”

“Oh, no. Not that,” He smiles, and you can’t see him, but you can still tell, because he hasn’t lifted his lips from your skin, and his pretty teeth drag gently over the tendon in your neck. “Dreams can feel real and they can look real, but they don’t smell real. Don’t taste real.”

Jungkook leans up to peck you on the lips, properly, and you’d love to keep looking at his face, shrouded by fluffy, too-long hair, bangs falling in his eyes, skin smattered with precious moles and the barest hint of hair growing in from his most recent shave, which you’ve never been near enough to notice. You’d love to, but your eyes keep slipping shut when your lips meet. It’s hard to fight.

“What does real taste like?” you ask, when you can drag your eyes open again.

Jungkook’s looking right back at you.

“You tell me.”

This time as your mouths meet, you give all your attention to the slide of your tongue against his, dipping between his lips to taste, sucking on his pretty lower lip. It earns you a gasp followed by a very unsteady exhale, and even the breath tastes sweet. You reposition your hands, using the fingers of your right hand to cup his jaw and encourage him to leave it slack and open, so you can lick back in, chase his soft tongue, and control the kiss.

Your observations are as follows:

Number one: Real tastes like --toothpaste. Mint flavored and fresh

Number two: Real tastes like --chapstick. Sugar and citrus, like a lemon hard candy

Number three: Real tastes like --bubblegum, which is actually coming from you and sweetens everything else that much more, and

--A fourth thing, difficult to label. Something your brain could never quite have conjured up, no matter how vivid the dream. Something that could only be intrinsically Jungkook.

Jungkook is breathing hard, some of them breathlessly voiced, almost moans. In the process of pursuing your single-minded goal you’ve managed to tip him on his back, lying short-ways across the bed, the wrong way. It looks to you as though the change in dynamic is affecting him considerably. Heat tinges the tips of his ears and you can faintly see his bangs beginning to stick to his skin. It makes your heart race, lightheaded from the power of it and perhaps a lack of oxygen.

“I think... I think I get it.”

Your words appear to call him back from another place, his eyes opening almost as if from deep sleep, heavy lidded, but with pupils blown, his chest heaving with each labored breath in. A beat passes before he flashes his teeth at you in a swift smile of understanding. You smile back.

It would have been hard, (no pun intended,) from this angle, not to have noticed the situation in Jungkook’s sweats by now, and you’re definitely aware of it. It’s encouraging.

You swing a leg over his body until you’re straddling his waist. You pause, glance at the clock on the bedside table and see that about a half an hour has passed already. You look back again, narrowing your eyes at Jungkook laid out beneath you, then back at the clock, and then bring your hands to the hem of your shirt and lift.

Jungkook only has time to begin to sit up, propping himself up on his elbows by the time you’ve whipped the offending article off, over your hair, like ripping off a band-aid, not giving yourself the chance to worry about doing it. It leaves you in your bra and your jeans, and the cute ankle socks with the little jello blobs on them. Jungkook said he liked these, once.

You don’t have the time to get anxious about not having had enough notice to change into one of your sexier bras, because he’s transferred his weight to one arm, elbow locked behind him, and reached out with his free hand to smooth over your side, wide, warm hand electric on the newly exposed skin, all done as if in a trance, like his hands are moving of their own accord. Gaze glued to you.

“Oh,” he exhales all at once, like all the air has been punched out of him, and, all right, yeah, that’s flattering. It might have something to do with the way your weight settles over his crotch, as well, but that’s neither here nor there. “Oh, wow.” Your tummy flips again, as you wrap your arms around his neck. His hand is still wandering, trailing the backs of his fingers tenderly down over your belly button, to your lower stomach, barely enough pressure not to tickle, then curling his fingers over your hip and stroking with his thumb. The hand travels behind your back, up to the clasp of the bra, where he hesitates, “Can I?”

When you nod your head, your hair moves, brushing your shoulders and poking the bared skin, prompting you to toss your head to the side to relieve the itchy sensation. You reclaim one of your own hands to assist the boy under you with the hooks, and between the two of you, you manage to get the thing done. You hold your breath, nervous, waiting for him to slide the straps from your shoulders, but he seems to sense your impulse to do so and kisses you first.

Slowly, gradually, his mouth moves down along your jaw, to your neck. He drops lingering, open-mouthed kisses all the way down your throat to your clavicles, and across to one shoulder, meeting up with the point where he left off kissing up your arm when you were relating back to him the details of your first kiss together. In the process, your left bra strap is brushed aside gently by his nose as it draws over your skin, and you inhale sharply as he continues down, tonguing the new expanse of skin bared to him, in no hurry, kissing your breast and taking the nipple into his curious, exploring mouth.

Your back arches toward him with no conscious direction from your brain, but Jungkook is there with his free hand pressed firmly against your shoulder blades, pulling your body closer to him anyway. You can feel a moan you’re trying not to vocalize begin to slip out, but Jungkook beats you to it, laving his tongue over your sensitive nipple and groaning out a soft, “Ahh,” followed by a low, rumbling hum before he looks up from under his eyelashes coquettishly and begins to suck. The moan you’ve been holding back escapes without your permission, as your head falls back, all strength in your body and the ability to hold yourself up threatening to fail at once.

The noises his mouth makes are wet and lewd, and if your panties hadn’t already begun to feel uncomfortably hot and sticky some time ago, chafing against the denim at the seams between your thighs, they would have at that. He draws off after a minute, releasing your breast with a filthy sounding pop to give attention to the other. It leaves your bare skin prickled with goosebumps and briefly cold with the saliva from his attention.

Miraculously, your other bra strap still clings stubbornly to your shoulder, the cups still dangling down your front between your bodies until Jungkook’s fingers slide beneath the fabric and finally coax it off and away, allowing you to slip your arms out. He deposits it at the foot of the bed.

With the barrier gone he resumes his ministrations, kissing across your ribs and lingering for a moment directly over your heart, beating at a furious pace as a direct result of everything he’s doing to you. He continues on to lavish all the same attention on your right breast. Seems only fair, to him.

He does want to make use of his other hand, however, and tease you with his mouth and his hands at the same time, so he sits up a little further, pressing forward until you get the hint and sit up to let him rearrange your positions slightly.

You’re pliant in his arms and willing to be maneuvered up to a point, and that point is that you’re ready to no longer be the only one undressed, and you’re impatient to get him out of his baggy hoodie, so you each rise to your knees, face to face, and you slip your fingers beneath the hem of it until your fingers curl over his sides. You find that he’s bare skinned underneath the sweatshirt, and quickly realize with a shiver that knowing intellectually that he doesn’t tend to wear layers under his hoodies is one thing, and it doesn’t compare to knowing it intimately, physically, which is another. His skin is warm, warm and soft beneath the pads of your fingertips.

You’re so overwhelmed to have the opportunity to touch him like this your hands are shaking, but you power through, needing to feel him and know him and make him feel good. You draw your hands further up, feeling the divots in his ribs when he inhales hard and his ribcage expands to contain the breath. The sweatshirt rides up with your hands, gradually bunching and folding until you reach his underarms, brushing soft hair for a second and he lifts his arms to allow you to slip it off, over his head.

His face briefly disappears from view and then reappears on the other side of the collar, hair ruffled and eyes searching for your reaction, your approval or disapproval.

(As if you would ever be disappointed by anything you found under Jungkook’s clothes.)

You run your hands over his swelling pecs, as he takes one deep breath after another, then down over his abs and then back up again to smooth over his shoulders, just trying to drink it all in.

“Jesus Christ, Jungkook,” you whisper in awe, pulling him forward with all your upper body strength to crush his body to yours, and he responds by wrapping his arms around you and crushing you right back. Your lips find his cheek, then his nose, hands on either side of his face to aid your aim as you drop kisses all over it. You let one hand travel down his side to his hip and bring your mouth to his ear, experimentally taking his earring between your teeth and tugging as you manage to leverage one of your thighs between his legs and encourage him to rock down on it, all at once.

The reaction is immediate, Jungkook moans outright in arousal and surprise. You briefly let go of the earring to flick your tongue over the area, and then take it back in your mouth and pull again, gently, and it’s worth it for his body’s response, when you feel his cock jump in his pants where he’s pressed up against your thigh.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah? We like that?”

Jungkook merely groans in reply, and his left hand finds its way down your lower back to your jeans, sneaking under the waistband and then under the elastic of your underwear a few inches to grip your ass in his palm and angle your lower body so he can grind down on you, working his hips slowly, giving himself a little friction and then drawing away. His right hand finds your nipple again, plucking sharply to get you gasping and then pinching and rolling.

You give up moan after moan for him, everything he does to you just feels so fucking good, you can feel the dopamine saturating your brain with every second his hands and mouth are on you. Fuck, but you could get used to this.

You mouth along his jaw to his neck, letting your teeth graze his skin lightly to feel him shiver. Curious, you bite down a little, enough to sting and then lave your tongue over the spot. His hips stutter and you smile to yourself.

“Hey, baby,” you address him, dragging his hips down against you with a little more force.

It earns you a stuttered, “U-Uh- Uh huh?”

You let your mouth travel back up to his ear, ask him softly,

“Do you think you could come like this?” making sure your lips brush his skin as you say it.

“Fuck,” he grits out, letting his head fall forward onto your shoulder, like he lacks the strength in his neck to hold it up anymore. “You can’t just say shit like that.” But his hips work down on your thigh over and over again on their own, so you prompt him,

“But can you?”

“Oh, god. I don’t- I don’t know. Yeah, probably. You’re so hot. I’m so hard. Probably, yes.”

You grin into his hair, “That’s my baby. What a good boy for me.”

And Jungkook... honest to god whimpers against your skin.

Whose life you must have saved in a past reincarnation to deserve this, you don’t know, but you decide just to thank your lucky stars, and back up just a little, to move until you’re lying down against the pillows, right way up in Jungkook’s bed, holding your arms out for him to follow you there.

Jungkook’s head snaps up as soon as you start to move backwards, like he thinks something might be wrong, but he gets the picture quickly and settles his weight over you easily, slotting your leg back between his and grinding down immediately.

He captures your lips in a bruising kiss before breaking it to ask, concern clear in his eyes,

“What about you?” And his hand rests over the button of your jeans, waiting for your permission, but as much as it pains you, you have to shake your head, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

Your eyes find his and you tell him, “Another day, Jungkookie, baby. We don’t have time.” Your eyes flit over to the bedside table with the digital clock on it, ruthlessly bearing the current time, and then back to his face, tilted up at you, open, waiting for an explanation. “Tae will be home in ten minutes. He’s bringing friends.”

A pout forms on Jungkook’s kiss swollen lips. Oh, no. Oh no. “Jungkook, we can’t. Do you want him to walk in on us in the middle of this?” And Jungkook’s eyes suddenly drop from your face like he can’t hold your gaze, but you feel the tell-tale twitch of his cock in his pants. There’s no way you wouldn’t. Jungkook clearly knows this, because he screws his eyes up, shut tight. Oh.

“You do? Oh, Jungkook. Oh, come here, baby.” He resists for the briefest of moments, but he lets you take his face in your hands and connect your lips again, and starts to roll his hips again, a little harder than before, but his eyes stay screwed shut. “You’d be into that, huh? Taehyung coming home and looking for you, coming to see what all the noise is behind your door and swinging it open to see your big, hard cock buried in my dripping pussy?” You pause for a second. “Is this okay?”

Jungkook chokes on nothing, but nods frantically, thrusts speeding up. “I’m so wet, Jungkook. You did that to me. Make me feel so good.” He’s moaning freely, now, face buried in the crook of your neck, one of his hands kneading your breast like his life depends on it. “You know, we didn’t lock the door. He could get home early. Would we hear him come in? Over all that pretty noise you’re making? Do you think we’d hear in time to stop? I don’t think so.”

You give in to the impulse to bury a hand in his hair again, scraping your nails gently against his scalp, brushing his bangs up off his forehead, then gripping a handful at the crown of his head and pulling, a little less gentle this time. Your other hand slips under the waistband of his sweats to take a handful of his ass and help him frot hard against you. You can feel the muscles flexing under your fingers, as he pants open-mouthed, breath fanning hot and damp over your neck.

This is unquestionably the hottest sex you’ve ever had, and you’re not even fucking. Neither of you are even totally naked. But Jungkook moans, brokenly, hips stuttering, and he says,

“I’m... I think I’m gonna come,”

“That’s my good boy, come for me. That’s right. Go ahead and make yourself come for me, baby.”

His face scrunches up and he gets out through gritted teeth, “Hurts,” and you slacken your grip on his hair immediately, ready to let go, but his eyes snap open and his hand flies to your wrist in a blur of motion. “No! Please- Please keep- my hair, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck,” So you wrap your fingers back in the soft, faintly curly strands and tentatively give another tug. “Ngh. Wasn’t- what I meant.” He gestures toward his crotch, and in following his movement you get an eyeful of his v line descending down under his sweatpants, and the fabric has ridden low enough at this point that it’s solely being held up by his straining erection. You can see the beginnings of a trim patch of pubic hair peeking over the waistband, and a distinct dark, wet spot decorates the place where the head of his cock must be. It makes your mouth dry to look at, but you catch his meaning. The friction must be overwhelming.

“Just a little more, baby,” you encourage him. “I know you can do it, you dirty thing. You aren’t wearing underwear, are you, sweetheart?”

Jungkook blushes to the tips of his ears, and with his shirt off you can see the way it travels down, down, all the way over his chest. Mouthwatering.

“I- I wasn’t expecting-”

“That’s what I thought. Just want to be caught, huh? Like the danger of it? The thought that someone might see you with your cock out in your sweatpants and know?” This earns you another whimper.

Then, “You.”

“Hm?”

“You, I wanted you to know. I wanted you to notice. Maybe. If I could be brave enough to... Thought maybe you might- oh, fuck, fuck. Thought you might see, think of me sometime... if you were getting off, by yourself... oh, god.”

Your turn to moan.

“Jesus Christ, that’s so hot.”

“Can you- Can I touch myself? Please, I’m so close, please let me touch myself.”

“Not this time, baby, I want you to come like this or not at all, can you do that for me?”

Jungkook whines louder, hips frantically rutting against you, desperate to come.

You lean and latch your mouth to the juncture behind his jaw that you noted was so sensitive, earlier, working the patch of skin between your teeth and gripping his hair tight at the same time.

With any luck, this is going to leave a beautiful, mottled mark and he won’t forget every time he looks in a mirror, and it’ll be in plain view to everyone else who sees him until it eventually fades. You’ll just have to create new ones, when that happens. The thought that this might happen again in the future between you fills you with a bubbly, giddy joy despite the knowledge that there’s no time for you to get off, this time. It’s all right. You’re playing the long game, here.

Jungkook suddenly tenses up hard and gasps out, “‘M gonna come, please, can I? Oh god, I’m gonna come.”

“Go ahead, baby. My good boy. Come for me.”

And he does, body locking up, every muscle in his abdomen flexing and quivering, veins standing out in his forearms, neck, and forehead, sweat dripping off the line of his jaw. He’s a vision, hovering over you, spilling into his pants and gasping heaving breaths. He opens his eyes in the last couple seconds as come stains the fabric between his legs, staring directly into your eyes. His irises are almost invisible, pupils blown and lids low and heavy. You can’t stop the full body shiver that wracks you from head to toe. That’s an image that’s going to stay with you when you’re alone in a cold bed from now on.

“Kiss me,” he demands. And you do, stroking his hair, gently now, sweeping it back off his forehead and smoothing it behind his ears.

His tongue slips out between your lips lazily, tangling with yours in a soft, sated dance for a long minute, until he appears to lose the ability to hold himself up with his arms and drops all his weight bodily on top of you.

“Oof,” you huff involuntarily. His head has landed conveniently on top of your chest, directly between your boobs. He hums from this position, utterly content, gooey pants and all. “Jungkook.”

“Mm?”

“We gotta get up.”

“Mm mm. No.”

“Tae is due in like, t minus two minutes. I need to change my underwear before company gets here. You need... a tissue and some fresh pants, at the very least.”

“Don’ wanna think about it.”

“Where’s my bra?”

“Nooo,” comes the protest from your, soft, sleepy, sexed out sweetheart. He’s very hard to say no to.

“Come on,” You slap his sweaty bicep to no effect. You really don’t want Taehyung to find you like this. Heaving a deep sigh, you decide it’s time for your last resort.

Your fingers dart to Jungkook’s sides and dig in, tickling him mercilessly. His entire body heaves and twists up off you involuntarily, up and away from your reaching hands.

“Cheating!” he protests through his giggles as you squirm out from under him in the aftermath. You really do need to change your underwear. And probably your pants, too.

You grab your bra and your shirt from where they each landed respectively, putting them back on while Jungkook sits on the bed, looking vaguely put out, pushing out his bottom lip at you.

“Aww,” you coo, coming back over to give him the kisses his expression is crying out for. Petulantly, he kisses back, but continues to pout, even as he scoots to the edge of the bed, making a face as the mess in his pants shifts when he moves, no doubt gross by now.

“I need a shower,” he sighs. “Why did you do this to me?”

You laugh outright at him, and decide he deserves it when you say, “Because you were begging to come, Jeon Jungkook.”

He scrunches up his nose in response, now standing, at least.

“I am getting you back for this.”

“I look forward to it,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him again, slow. You’re not even a little tired of this. Not even close.

Your eyes are closed, but you sense movement near your waist, so you open them, only to see Jungkook shucking his pants, using the bunched up material to wipe up the worst of the cum on his lower belly, and chucking the whole mess into the hamper in the corner. Despite all you’ve done today, this is the first time you’re seeing Jungkook properly naked, and you find yourself blushing and snapping your eyes to the ceiling, looking anywhere else.

He laughs at you, predictably.

“Oh, after saying all that to me, you’re gonna get shy now?”

“It’s different!” you squeak, unable to tell if it’s safe to look back yet.

“What’s different?” Nope, definitely not safe. If anything it’s less safe. His voice is very close to your ear, now. You keep your eyes determinedly locked on the ceiling fan. It needs to be dusted.

“It just is.”

“Because that was in the middle of sex, and now the sex is over, suddenly you’re flustered?” You just nod. “What if sex isn’t over, then? Will you look at me then?”

“Huh?”

And now Jungkook’s hands are on you, thumbing your sides, sliding under the shirt you just put back on. You dare to let your gaze fall back on his face, but no lower.

“I said, ‘What if it isn’t over.’”

“But it is. You just came.”

“You didn’t.”

“You just came!”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“So?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He just shrugs one shoulder. “Trust me, I can go again, if that’s what you want. You drive me crazy. But I don’t have to, I want to make it about you.” A pause, where he glances over his shoulder, then, “I’ll lock the door this time.”

It’s a lot to take in. You groan, smoothing your hands over his bare chest and squeezing your eyes shut. Try to remember the reasons it’s not a good idea. It’s difficult. Every fiber of your being wants him.

You give in a little, just enough to kiss him again, allowing your hands to travel down his back, scraping your nails over his skin just a little to feel him groan into your mouth, smoothing your palms over the globes of his ass and squeezing indulgently. You feel his cock, oh, god, perk up in interest already and decide, no, that will have to be enough for now. Giving him one last peck on the lips, you pull away.

“Later,” you promise, smiling.

Jungkook looks disappointed, but he still says, “Fine. Later.” And you can already see his eyes shifting to a darker shade, cogs in his head making plans for you.

You suppress a shiver, and slip out the door.

[Part 2 is now up!]

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