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renaerys · 3 years

Note

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #bersoomer #ppg berserk #ppg boomer #september fic prompts #so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself #tfw considering a part 2

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years

Text

Overlooked and Overworked

Tom Holland x Sister

Summary: Being Tom Holland’s little sister was great growing up, but after his success she’s a little left behind. Y/N Holland is willing to do whatever for her family because she loves them.

Warnings: Angst, fluff ending, rude Tom, overworked, sleep deprived

A/N: I don’t think Tom or any of the members of the Holland’s would allow this to happen to any member of their family or friends, I just had this idea and wrote it. Also I wrote this back in like January and just now got the guts to post it!

MASTERLIST BUY ME A COFFEE

The past couple of years for you have been an emotional roller coaster. You’ve been so excited and happy to see your brother succeed in his career. It’s always fun to see him on the big screen as someone else. But it’s also been tiring and sad because you feel left out. You don’t get to go to set often, you don’t get to travel with him, and you aren’t a part of his charity. The Brothers Trust is just him and your 3 other brothers. Given you help out way more than all of the brothers. Since you went to school for business, you help your mum and dad with both of their businesses and then run The Brothers Trust.

Tom is the oldest, then it’s you, the twins, and then Paddy. You’re only a year and a half younger than Tom. You were very close growing up, but once he started doing movies, you slowly grew apart. Him and the twins then grew closer. You loved him dearly but it just wasn’t the same since you never felt included. He took Harry to sets with him and on press tours. Sam would join along when he wasn’t working at the restaurant. Paddy would join during school breaks. But every time you would try to join him, he would say no. That he was too busy or too tired. You didn’t want to fight him but you were always crushed.

When he got the role of Spiderman, he decided then he wanted to move out into his own apartment. You offered to help him find a place since you had been looking for yourself. You offered to share a place and split rent but he said he wanted to be completely on his own. But shortly after he moved into his new 4 bedroom apartment, he had Harrison, Tuwaine, Sam, and Harry move in.

“The twins are moving in with Tom. Can you help pack and move them this weekend?” Your dad asked.

“What? They’re moving in with Tom? I thought he wanted his own space?” You asked him.

“He said he wanted to be around people because it was too lonely and quiet. Did you ever find a place? If so, you may want roommates too.”

“No I realized I can’t afford a place in a nice area to live alone. All my mates have moved off to continue their education or they have jobs else where.” You said sadly.

“Tom should of asked you then. I’m sorry y/n/n.”

“It’s fine. He hangs out with all four of them all the time. I would of just been in the way.” You said as you got up and left the room.

It’s been a couple of years and you still can’t afford to get your own place. Between helping run three businesses, you don’t have time to get a part time job. You pay your parents for rent and help pay bills so you are doing adult things. Plus it helps your parents financially. It’s busy season since your mum is picking up gigs for photoshoots, your dad is on tour for standup and his new book, plus you are planning a movie event through the trust as well as trying to get all the merch bagged and shipped. You have been working 14-15 hour days for the past 3 weeks without a day off. You are feeling the tiredness mentally and physically.

Tom has time off from the movie he is filming now. They gave him a month off for the holidays. Him and Harry have been home but all they have done is hung out with friends and go to the pub. You have been holed up in your office/bedroom for 3 days straight. Only to go out to the bathroom and kitchen to grab food.

“Where has y/n been? I haven’t seen much of her since we got home.” Harry asks Tom.

“She might be finalizing the Spies in Disguise event and getting things ready.” Tom responded.

“Oh good. Y/n is great at getting a head start on things so I’m guessing she’s done with all the prep and souvenirs.” Harry smiled. Tom laughed in response.

On Christmas Day, you only came out of your room for breakfast and lunch and then went back in your room to work. No one noticed the bags under your eyes that you tried to hide with makeup. No one noticed you almost falling asleep at the table. No one thought twice about why you spent most of Christmas alone in your room. But you were behind. You still had a lot of orders to fulfill and send out. You still had get all of the souvenirs together for the event that was in two days. You still had to finish sending out your dads orders for his book as well as finalize his January travel plans and stand up dates. Your mum had booked 12 more shoots and you had to finalize times and dates. And everything was supposed to be done in the next week. You finally caved and decided to ask Tom for help since it was his event after all.

“Hey Tom can I have you help me out for a little bit?” You asked him Christmas evening.

“Do you need me tonight?” He asked.

“If you can that would be great.”

“Sorry y/n/n. I can’t. I’m meeting to boys at the apartment.”

“Well maybe they can help too.” You sounded hopeful to get more help to lighten your load.

“No can do. We have drinks and plans.”

“Well then can you come tomorrow morning or early afternoon?”

“Can’t. I have a meeting with my manager to discuss everything that’s coming up and then all of us at the apartment and Paddy are going into the city. Maybe I can help you after the event?”

“No it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” You said sadly as you turned to go back to your room.

“What about Paddy? Or mum or dad?” He asked.

“Paddy has football that mum is taking him to before she does a shoot tomorrow. Dad is working on some other stuff for his January shows.”

“Sam or Harry?”

“Well both will be with you tonight and tomorrow.”

“What about in the morning?”

“Sam has to work remember. And I think Harry is meeting with some mates to catch up with them or something along those lines. It’s fine. I’ve got it handled. Have fun tonight and tomorrow. Be safe. Love you.” You turned and almost ran back to your room. You wanted to break down in tears from being overwhelmed and for not being included in any of Tom’s plans of hanging out and catching up. You’ve barely seen Tom in the past year. Only when he’s in London. You shook the thoughts of your brother out of your head and pulled out a sheet of paper. You wrote down everything that needed to be done. Then on your white board, wrote them down in most important the least important.

First up was getting all of the brothers trust bags done. You went to the storage closest and pulled out everything you would need and set the boxes on your bed. Then you went and grabbed a tote to put the finished product in. It took you until 4 am, but you finally finished putting them together. You went into the kitchen and made you some tea. You went back in your room and marked the brothers trust goody bags off of your list. Next you started finalizing plans for your mum. That just involved organizing times and dates. You finished that around 1030 am. You marked that off the list as well.

Before you emailed all of the clients their dates and times, you went to the kitchen to grab and snack and drink. Your mum was in the kitchen.

“Morning love.” She smiled at you.

“Morning.” You said back waiting on your tea.

“So I’m going to drop Paddy off at football in 20 minutes and then Tom will pick him up to go into the city. I have to go to my shoot. Do you have the invoice I can give them?”

“I do.” You rushed to your room and grabbed it from a folder then went back and handed it to her. “Everything is on there. The deposit has been paid and it shows that as well as the price for the shoot and the editing. It also gives the timeline of when they will get the pictures.”

“Great. This is wonderful. Thank you. Also the theater called and said we can set it up today at 3 pm. Are you okay to handle that on your own?”

You sighed but answered, “yes I can handle it. I finished the bags last night. I just need to print off the papers to put on the seats as well. Plus get the itinerary finished which I will have by tonight so Tom knows what’s going on.”

“That’s great. I’ll be there to take photos as well as Harry but the boys will all be busy with fans and making sure they all feel special.”

“Sounds good. Have fun on your shoot.”

Your mum smiled as her and paddy left the house. You went back into your room and emailed everyone for your mum. Then you printed the brothers trust sheets that said what the event was supporting and how we were thankful for their donations. As those were printing you forgot you had to pick up an order of pictures so Tom could sign them for the guest coming to the screening. You looked up and saw that it was 130 and if you were going to be on time you needed to leave in the next 15 minutes.

After you loaded the goody bags into your car, you drove the 20 minutes to the print shop to pick up the pictures. You then went to the theater and set everything out. It took 45 minutes to lay everything out and make sure it was perfect. You then snagged some photos for Instagram and posted them. By the time you got home it was just shy of 5. You went straight to your room to finalize the itinerary. At 8 pm your mum knocked on the door.

“Hey baby. I’m back. How did everything go setting up wise?”

“It was good. Took longer than expected but wasn’t too bad for being the only one there. Also here is the itinerary for you and dad. I also have one for each of the boys.”

“Wow. This is detailed perfectly.”

“It kind of had to be since Tom has an event to go to tomorrow night and he can’t be late. I figured the more detailed, the less things can go wrong.”

“Fair point. Love I’m not sure if the boys notice the work you put in, but I do. Have you slept yet?”

You looked at her shocked, “what do you mean?”

“I mean that I can tell you are exhausted. I woke up at 2 am last night and heard you in here and saw your light was still on.” She paused and looked at your long list on the white board. “And by the looks of it, you have a long to do list. Do you need help? After we get through the event I can help. I don’t have a shoot for a couple of days.”

“I appreciate mum, but this list needs to be done by then. And everything you can help me with will be done already. But thank you.”

“Did you ask your brothers to help? I mean this is there thing. They should be helping you. Not leaving it to you to do yourself.”

“I asked Tom to help so I could have him do the goody bags for tomorrow but he had a guys night with Sam and Harry and them last night. Then they were all busy this morning and then went into the city. But it’s fine. I did the bags last night. That’s what you heard when you woke up.”

“I’m sorry baby. I’m going to have a talk with him. Have you had a break to just hangout with Tom. I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen him.”

“No he’s always in a meeting or with the boys. But if Tom wanted to see me, he’d make time but when I try, he can’t. But with all this work, I haven’t really done much outside of this room in a while so it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You both used to be so close. Almost like you were twins. Weirdly enough closer than the twins have ever been. I hope you two can work whatever this is out.”

“Me too mum. Me too.” You looked at her as she slowly walked out.

After your mum left the room, you got back to work finalizing your dads stuff. Thankfully it was only 12 am when you finished. Deciding to pack all of the orders so you can drop them off to be shipped in the morning, you went and grabbed everything you would need from the storage closet and got to work. You stayed up all night working. You finally finished all the orders at 9 am. When you realized the time you rushed to get dressed and cleaned up as best you could. By 10 am you were out the door to go to the post office to ship the orders and then you were off to the theater to make sure everything was set. By 1pm the rest of your family showed up. And by 2 the theater was full of people who were excited to see the brothers and the movie.

People knew who you were. Everyone knew Tom had a sister. But you did great staying out of the eye of people. None of your brothers posted much about you on social. Your dad mainly posted about Tom and the brothers golf adventures. Your mum would occasionally when she made you model when she was trying something new. So when people arrived, they walk past you and straight to the four brothers who were ready to greet everyone.

When the event started, you weren’t really needed so you went to a back room they had set up for your brothers to relax away from people and sat on the couch. Not sleeping since Christmas Eve was starting to catch up with you but some how you forced yourself to stay awake.

“Y/n we have a problem.” Your youngest brother said as he came in the room. “The movie hasn’t started yet and it was supposed to 15 minutes ago.”

“Okay I’ll go see what’s going on.” You went to the manager of the theater and she explained to you how the light in the projector went out and it was going to be another 20 minutes before it started. She apologized multiple times.

“Hey Tom. Can you do a q&a for 20 minutes or so?”

“No the movie is supposed to be on.”

“They are having technical difficulties and it’s going to take 20 minutes to fix it.”

Tom got annoyed because he knew this was pushing the entire timeline back and it was now be pushing it for him to be on time for his event tonight. “Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when we are good to go.”

After 30 minutes. The movie was finally ready to go. Every one was enjoying it and all four of your brothers moved around the theater so the kids felt like they were watching the movie with them personally. When it was over everyone was ushered into a lobby where there was a meet and greet with photos. By the time the boys were done with everyone, it was 20 minutes until Toms next event.

“Great. I’m going to be late. Thanks for that y/n. Why didn’t you have them check everything yesterday?”

“Because I didn’t think of it.”

“So stupid. How could you not think of it? It’s literally the first thing on the list of things to check when prepping the theater. Do your job better. Thats what you are paid to do. I’ll see you later.” Tom rolled his eyes and stormed off. You just stared feeling humiliated since the theater staff and your family had witnessed that. You were holding in your emotional breakdown until you could do it in private.

“Sorry guys. Y’all can go ahead and head out. I’ll clean this up and bring home whatever is ours.” Sam, Harry, and Paddy saw this as a get of jail free card and booked it out of the theater. Your dad came by and kissed you on the head and said I have to finish up some work and headed out. Your mum looked at you sadly.

“I’ll help you baby.”

“No it’s okay mum. Go edit the photos so we can get them sent out.” You smiled at her.

“It’s okay. I can do them later tonight.”

“Mum seriously. Go home. I got this. I’ll be home later. You kissed her on the cheek as you walked back in the theater. You thankfully left the tote yesterday which made it easier to put everything in. You put the tote in your car and headed back in the theater to sweep and clean up the mess. By the time you got home, it was 9 pm. You had been up for 61 hours straight. You were exhausted. You just wanted to sleep. But Tom was home and he was livid.

“What the hell?” He asked.

“What?” You asked back.

“You know I got yelled at by my manger for 30 minutes about how I was irresponsible and immature for being almost a hour late to the event tonight?”

“Why did you get yelled at? You were doing stuff for charity. He should get over it.”

“He was mad because SOMEONE told him I would be done with our event in plenty of time to go to this other one. And when I told him there was technical difficulties because that same SOMEONE didn’t do their job, he got even more mad.”

“I get that I probably should of checked but things happen Tom. Okay? Things I can’t control. Things the theater can’t control. I did this entire event by myself. Sorry for not checking but other than the delay the people loved it and we raised money which is okay because our charity now can help so many more.”

“You didn’t do this by yourself. We all help. And our charity? Our? You mean mine? Sams? Harry’s? Paddys? It’s our faces that make that charity. And when something goes wrong we are the ones that look bad. Not the person behind the scenes that only does some of the work.”

You looked at him like he was a stranger. What he said broke your heart. That’s what he really thought? You just shook your head lightly and walked to your room. You shut the door and locked it.

“Really Tom?” Your mum asked as her and your dad walked in during the argument.

“Yeah mum. We do all the work and she’s trying to take the credit. We’ve all noticed and it’s getting out of hand. You do more than she does.”

“Tom I’m extremely disappointed in you right now.” Your dad said.

“Tom she does all of the work. The planning, the scheduling, the packaging, social media, distributing the money, and figuring out all the ways we can make money to help those smaller charities.” Your mum added.

“She does?”

“Yes Tom. On top of helping me and your father with our businesses. We’ve seen you more than her this past month because she’s been so busy.” Your mum said.

“Wow.”

“Did you know she was up until 4 am on Christmas night so she could finish the goody bags before we had to prep the theater. That she had those pictures printed so you could sign them for the guest. That she made an itinerary so detailed that nothing could go wrong. Except she didn’t account for technical difficulties. She set up the theater and cleaned the theater all by herself. None of us helped her. We just showed up for the event.” Your mum said.

“Tom have you not noticed how exhausted she looks? It looks like she hasn’t slept in days. She’s trying her best to handle everything so we can have everything run smoothly for us. She even mentioned your event and how she needed to get you out of there so you wouldn’t be late. We’ve all been horrible to her by letting her do this by herself.” Your dad said.

“I... I didn’t know. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Tom got up and knocked on your door. He couldn’t hear anything so he tried opening it. He noticed it was locked and went to his old room and found the key you gave him years ago. When he unlocked it he noticed the mess around your room of boxes, plastic, mail bags for packages, and stacks of papers. He saw you on your bed and saw you were asleep. He went over and tucked you in. He went to your desk and saw the white board with everything marked off under the to do list. He then looked on your desk and saw how your mum and dads plans were finalized. He knew you mentioned everything when you asked him for help Christmas night and now you were done with it. Even all the orders were done and he saw the receipt from the post office proving the orders were shipped. He felt horrible knowing the only way that you got everything done was by staying up all night.

He turned and walked back to you and finally noticed the bags under your eyes. As well as tear stains that he knows he’s the cause for. It broke his heart knowing he was the cause. It also broke knowing that you asked for help so you wouldn’t fall in the deep end, but by saying he couldn’t help, he pushed you in and watched you drown without even realizing.

He gave you a kiss on the head and got up and quietly walked out.

“What time did y/n wake up on Christmas Day?”

“From what we know, maybe around 8 or 9.” Your dad said. Tom sat there quietly while doing the math in his head.

“61 hours.” He suddenly said.

“What?” Your mum said.

“61 hours. That’s how long she went without sleep. She asked me for help and told me why and I said no. She’s finished the list. She’s organized both of your stuff. She’s packed and shipped out all of the orders. She did everything for the event. She hasn’t slept. She’s asleep now but it was 61 hours. How could I let my sister do that? How did I not see it?” Tom asked his parents. They looked at him in shock.

“My poor baby” your mum said.

“We will talk to her tomorrow when she wakes up.” Your dad said.

“I want to be here when she wakes up so I can apologize. I’m going to go see her again.”

He got up and walked to your room. He quietly started cleaning up the mess left from packaging orders. He then laid on the other side of your bed thinking about how he messed up so bad. Shortly after he fell asleep too.

-——————

Around 7 am you woke up still exhausted but you needed a glass of water. When you went to throw the blanket off of you, you saw Tom asleep in your bed still in his clothes from the night before.

You were confused as to why he was in your bed, but you chose to ignore him. You stood up and went to the kitchen. Your mum was already cooking breakfast.

“Morning baby. How’d you sleep?” Your mum asked.

“Alright. I’m probably going to catch a few more hours. Just needed water.” You said. “By the way, do you know why Tom is in my bed?”

“He felt bad about how he has treated you lately.” She said. “He figured out you went 60 something hours without sleep.”

You looked at her shocked and sat down. She came over and gave you a hug.

“Why did you do that to yourself? Why didn’t you ask for help?” Your dad said as he joined both of you in the kitchen.

“You were working on new stuff. Mum had shoots and a house to run. I asked Tom and thought maybe him and the boys could help but they had plans. It needed to be done before the new year and definitely needed to be done before the event.”

“We appreciate you so much baby girl. I hope you know that. You do a lot for this family and this family isn’t great at giving back. We do love you.” Your mum said as she gave you a kiss on the head. “Now please go get some sleep. Sleep all day if you’d like and I can bring you food later.”

You smiled at her and walked back to your room. Tom still hadn’t moved. You sat your water on your bedside table and crawled back under the covers. You turned your back towards Tom. You were still really saddened by his words last night, that you didn’t want to face him yet.

“Y/n/n are you awake?” You heard Tom whisper.

“Go back to sleep or get out.” You said back not opening your eyes.

“I’m sorry y/n. What I said last night was wrong. I didn’t realize you do everything for our trust. I thought mum and dad did it all. I know you’ve been killing yourself to try and catch up then get ahead, but you can’t do that to yourself. You need proper rest. I’m going to make sure you never do the 61 hours straight again. I’d rather myself do it before I let you do it again.”

“Tom it’s okay. But seriously. Leave or go back to sleep.”

“No it’s not okay. I’ve royally fucked up. I’ve let us get so far apart we are almost strangers to one another. I have a charity that doesn’t even have your name on it and you do all the work. You make sure my fans are happy as well as making sure we help other small charities. You’re absolutely amazing and I’ve treated you like shit for the last few years. I don’t even give you the time of day. I promise you this, I will do better. We will be like we used to. Even if I have to kidnap you and take you with me different places. I love you and I don’t want to be the one hurting you anymore.”

You rolled over and looked at him with tears in your eyes. Your brother finally recognized you for you. He finally realized what he’s done.

“Thank you Tom. I love you too.”

He smiled at you and leaned over to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“It really means a lot that you said that. But can I please go back to sleep. I’m still exhausted.” You said.

Tom pulled you to him so your head was on his chest and shoulder. And he cuddled you so you felt protected from all the horrible things that can go wrong for you.

“Get some sleep and when you wake up, me and you will hang out. Just the two of us.” Tom said. You smiled as you drifted back to sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland sister #brother!tom holland #holland!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x sister!reader #angst #fluff ending #the brothers trust #tom holland facfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #y/n holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #brother!tom holland x sister!reader #tom holland angst #holland!sister

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joshstambourine · 3 years

Text

What Friends Do pt. 2

Warning: Cursing

Word Count: 2954

Synopsis: Josh and Jake are surprised when an old friend stumbles back into their lives, taking their world by storm with old feelings, new feelings, and problems they never would have expected.

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader x Jake Kiszka

Jake laid in his bed, blankets wrapped around him tightly as his eyes just lingered on the ceiling above him. He didn’t want to be awake. He didn’t want to be continuously stuck staring. Something though just wouldn’t let him sleep tonight. In a smooth movement Jake turned to lay on his side with his eyes closed, it only lasted for a moment as they soon opened again to look at the clock beside him reading 2:42 AM. Not all that late no but certainly late if you cuddled into bed at 10:30 pm, this fact made Jake let out a low groan in annoyance.

‘What is going on with me tonight?’ Jake wondered to himself, as he moved to sit up straight. He began rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Jake never had this much trouble sleeping usually, of course he wasn’t quite like Josh who was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he’d normally be out within twenty minutes.

Looking around the dark room, Jake eventually reached out to turn on his side lamp. The light blinding for a brief moment, but Jake's eyes adjusted as he made his way to his feet. In nothing but boxers he made his way from his bedroom to the kitchen, if he was going to be awake he was going to enjoy it at least. Jake opened a couple of cupboards and began to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Back against the counter he began to take a small sip, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone chiming from the living room where he normally left it to charge. His brows furrowed a little, ‘Why is someone texting me so late…?’ He wondered to himself, moving towards the living room. Jake planted himself on the couch and his legs kicked up on one end with his head at the other.

Unknown Number

(Received 1:43 am) Hey Jake! It's (Y/N) sorry to text so late, but I just wanted to make sure I sent you a text before I forgot. It was really nice to see you guys today! Hopefully we can get together sometime soon!

Clearly an email was what the notification sound was actually for but Jake chose to ignore it. Jake moved to take another sip of his whiskey as he contemplated whether or not he should bother responding. It felt like forever since they had seen each other let alone spoken; he knew well that he had changed as a person and that more than likely she had as well. This (Y/N) wasn't the same girl he had fallen head over heels for in high school.

It was easier to tell himself that than to really believe it unfortunately; his mind quickly pulled him back to how her eyes had met his earlier. Jake felt like (Y/N)’s eyes were full of so much love as she looked at him… but was he only imagining it? Jake felt like he had been staring at the text for hours by the point he decided to toss his phone back to the side.

Taking a bigger swig of the drink, Jake began to push his hand through his hair, thinking about the few memories her scent had trudged up into his mind. To Jake’s surprise he could still envision the old her when he closed his eyes, he supposed that old habits were harder to get rid of then he would care to admit.

A small memory slipped into view of (Y/N) as she walked ahead of him down a beaten down path in the woods. Summer sun making her skin sparkle, she lightly turned to look back at him with a small laugh. A ratty black Janis Joplin t-shirt hung over her shoulders, it was something that Jake could always remember her wearing. A lit cigarette smoldering between her fingers as she cheerfully took a drag. The sight made him wonder now if (Y/N) still smoked, Josh and her had started around the same time after a friend of theirs stole a pack from his dad. Josh had since quit knowing how much it was ruining his voice. With how crisp (Y/N)’s voice was he had to imagine that she must have given the terrible habit up.

(Y/N)’s smile brought him to another moment, he could see clearly in his mind’s eye as Josh spun her in the middle of the kitchen while they were trying to make dinner. Jake was there, but at the time he kept to himself… leaving Josh alone with her to enjoy their time. (Y/N)’s eyes were always so full of joy when she was with Josh.

The laugh that left (Y/N) soft lips was slowly drowned out by the sound of heavy rain, his view becoming one of her standing in the middle of the rain, completely drenched but laughing as she danced alone to the music she seemed to always have playing in her head. A sudden picture of (Y/N) standing before him in a drenched floral gown, her voice filling his ears, “Jake?” He could picture her uttering, with a saddened look in her eyes.

"Jake?" Called her sweet voice again, this immediately caught Jake's attention, he quickly turned to his side. Music played loudly overhead, his gaze fixing on (Y/N) who was suddenly dressed in a black lace dress that fell just below her knees. “Are you listening?” (Y/N) asked him.

"Huh? What did you say (Y/N)?" Jake quickly responded with a shake of his head.

(Y/N) let out a little laugh, "I asked you if you wanted to dance?" She repeated to him, wearing a soft smile. (Y/N) was so beautiful at this dance. Jake could remember that he had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her, the way her dress fit, the way she had done her makeup, even the way she chose to wear her hair, it was all so perfect.

Ah… Jake was at the spring dance again.

His eyes moved to take in the sight of her outstretched hand. Jake could recall being a little frazzled, though he couldn’t quite remember what he had been looking at beforehand that made this gesture so surprising. It took a second but soon a wide smile came across Jake’s lips, "I'd love to!" He said eagerly. Taking her hand as he felt his cheeks go a soft pink, "oh… wait, what about your date?" He slowly asked. Both (Y/N) and Jake came with different people to that dance,

"Ah, he went to find a spot to smoke a little while ago." (Y/N) softly mused, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He’ll probably be back soon but I just wanted to take this opportunity.” They would find out later that both of their dates had ditched the party together to hook up. Right now however, (Y/N) held tight to Jake's hand as she led him out to the middle of the gym that doubled as a dancefloor when the school saw fit.

Looking back, it was beyond cliché that it was the song that played, some might say meme worthy but of course it was Wonderwall by Oasis playing over head as Jake had his first slow dance with (Y/N). Jake could remember how nervous he was as he placed his hand on her side, unsure if he was holding her too tight. (Y/N) seemed to have no issue placing her hand on his shoulder with a friendly smile across her lips. It was a lot of awkward shuffling at first, Jake unsure where to look, and (Y/N) only smiling when their eyes did meet.

Jake realized now that she could tell how nervous he was, the way she had begun to sing along with a serious look in her eye was all to make him chuckle a little. Even back then (Y/N)’s voice was something magical to listen to. The sound of it made Jake relax a little; he was completely caught up in the way her lips moved. His own lips would curl into a smile when she would close her eyes and become entirely enthralled in the music. Jake always frowned when he remembered just how sweaty his palms had gotten, and even more wistful when he thought about just how much tighter he wanted to hold her hand in this moment.

This wasn’t the last slow dance Jake had shared with (Y/N). In fact he always made a point of dancing with her at these kinds of things, because frankly, the times Jake shared with (Y/N) were some of the best moments he'd end up having at the school dances.

Of course also getting to watch Josh and (Y/N) pick the most outrageous songs to dance poorly to was also an astounding highlight of everyone's night.

As that dance came to a close, neither of them pulled away very quickly. Jake just stared down at (Y/N) with gentle eyes, and she stared back up at him with a warm smile. Jake knew that he didn’t want to let go of her hand yet, that he loved the feeling of her fingers being laced with his. “Hey (Y/N)?” Jake lightly started,

(Y/N) was already looking at him, and responded with a light, “Yes Jake?”

“I…” he started, trying to muster up the courage to tell her how he felt, but Jake just couldn't do it. At the time he was so filled with self doubt that he couldn’t imagine her ever feeling the same towards him, “I’m… sure Josh would probably love a dance too.” He tells her weakly, immediately beating himself up on the inside. 'What was that…?' He remembered thinking to himself; when Jake was laying in bed later that night he would think about all the suave things he could have said instead.

(Y/N) gave a nod in agreement, "Yeah you're probably right…! His date seems to be off with every other guy tonight." She utters, looking across the room at a blonde girl dancing with someone who clearly wasn't Josh. "Thanks for the dance, Jake!" (Y/N) said in a sing-song way, her hand lightly running down his arm, "I'll see ya in a little bit?"

Jake gave a weak smile, and an enthusiastic head nod "y-yeah, of course! See ya later…." He uttered. Finally releasing (Y/N)’s hand just to watch her walk off through the crowd. Even then Jake felt like he could never compare to Josh; that (Y/N) would choose Josh over him every single time.

Those memories were always difficult to even just graze over, especially after everything else that would happen later. Jake could feel his heart get heavy as the scene began to change. The music was still playing loudly in the gym, he could hear it despite standing in the middle of the parking lot. Jake had come outside to look for his date, she had never come back from the washroom and being as naïve as he was, he hoped that maybe she went outside for a smoke. Instead he found a tearful (Y/N) sitting on the hood of his car.

(Y/N) sat slumped over her one knee while the other leg dangled down, she was smoking a half finished cigarette and looking at the ground. All Jake could remember thinking as he approached her was. ‘Where on earth are her shoes?’

(Y/N) was almost always barefoot and this was no exception.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Jake called out lightly, gaining her attention rather quickly.

“Oh… hey Jake…” she responded in a half hearted way, returning to take another drag of her cigarette.

Jake frowned as he heard her say his name in such a sad way, “What’s up? You sound upset…” He lightly asked, coming to sit beside her on the hood of his car.

(Y/N) shook her head a little, “Ah… Alex is gone.” She stated, referring to her date whose car was indeed missing from the parking lot now. Jake furrowed his brows a little, he couldn’t believe that Alex would just take off without a word --- of course he figured out why later, but at this moment it burned him up a little.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Jake told her honestly, beginning to scratch the back of his head, “If it makes you feel any better I think Lindsay is gone too…” He muttered, referring to the girl he had asked last minute to the dance.

(Y/N) was quick to look at him with her brows furrowed, “No that doesn’t make me feel any better!” She exclaimed, “I have to beat up a bitch now.” She was quick to say. (Y/N) despite being the same age as Jake always seemed to be so protective of him; Jake really couldn’t say that he hated that fact even now.

Jake laughed a little as she said this, “It’s okay (Y/N)...” he sighed, “I knew she wasn’t really that into me from the beginning.” He shrugged, trying not to seem all that bothered. Jake always tried to seem put together when it came to being around (Y/N) but things like this always were a blow to his self-esteem.

(Y/N) shook her head clearly unhappy with this news, “Jake, you definitely deserve better than her anyways.” She tells him, taking another deep inhale from her cigarette. “You’re way too good of a guy to be treated in such a shitty way.” She tells him with smoke pouring from her lips, still slightly shaking her head.

Jake watched (Y/N) with a small smile, he was happy that she thought that of him anyways. “You really think so…?” He lightly asked.

(Y/N) gave an enthusiastic nod, “Of course I do! You’re handsome, funny, and charming.” She tells him seriously, turning her focus to him. “You deserve someone who loves all that about you--- someone that loves everything about you.” She told him with a smile.

He gained a little bit of courage, his gaze becoming focused on the moon. “Do you love everything about me…?” Jake asked, it was a forward question of course, but he wanted to know.

(Y/N) seemed to raise a brow, surprised by his asking. Her arm quickly came out to pull him into a headlock, “Of course I do! That’s what friends are supposed to do!” She laughed, “And then make fun of you mercilessly for being such an amazing person.”

Jake had to stop himself from frowning in that moment, giving a weak laugh; he should have known that would be her answer. “Yeah I guess it is huh…” he uttered, moving to place his hand over hers, his thumb brushing over her soft knuckles.

(Y/N) looked over at him, she must have been able to tell that her answer didn’t quite suffice as she began to give a lopsided expression. She just couldn’t resist taking another puff before saying anything though. Jake couldn’t help but shake his head a little, “Why are you doing that?” He lightly asks her, causing her to look at him quizzically.

“Doing what?”

“Smoking.” Jake said sternly, he always hated seeing her or his brother smoking. “You know it's terrible for you.” He continued.

“Well fuck Jake, I didn’t realize you cared so much.” (Y/N) laughed, as her arm on him lessened its grip. “They're just addicting, I don’t know what to tell you.” She admitted, tossing the remainder to the ground.

Jake would shake his head at that moment, “You’re an idiot.” He told her.

“Hey! I just told you I loved everything about you, you don’t need to be so mean about it.” (Y/N) responded loudly, she clearly knew he was right… but oh how she hated being wrong.

“If you’re ever going to get into music you’ll need your voice you can’t just fuck it up by smoking that garbage.” Jake continued to scold, recalling the look she gave him. It was a look that really expressed how she felt about getting into music… a strong disdain.

“Y’know Jake… not everyone wants to get into music like you.” (Y/N) told him pointedly, “Some of us have other dreams.” She continued, with a hate filled look. Thinking about it made Jake upset still, he knew how heavily (Y/N) was being strong armed into music by her family at the time… she didn’t need him to add to it. (Y/N) recoiled her arm, bringing it to sit on her lap.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I just don't---” Jake could recall starting, hand moving to take hers.

All of a sudden Jake’s eyes had snapped open staring at the ceiling of his apartment, sun pouring through the curtains in an inhumane way --- he had fallen asleep. Sluggishly he sat up, running his fingers through his slightly knotted hair while he searched for his phone with the other, ‘what time is it…?’ he wondered, knowing he had to meet with Josh for eleven… or twelve Jake’s time.

Jake cradled his phone in his palm, seeing the time was 10 am. That was a relief at least. He also noticed a new text.

Josh

(Delivered 9:30 am) Okay so hopefully it’s cool but I invited (Y/N) to tag along at 11! If it isn't… well sucks to suck I guess.

The sight of it made Jake let out a light drone, falling to lay back on the couch again. “...Well fuck.” He uttered.

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet roleplay #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #gvf fanfiction #sam gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #gvf imagine #gvf roleplay #gvf rp #what friends do

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

domus - pt. 3 (final)

a/n: it’s done. oh god it’s done. it’s like 2AM so it’s unedited for now, but i’ll make edits in the morning. i also apologize in advance for the slightly rushed ending fas;elifjac you will need to read parts 1 and 2 (linked below) for context!

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~8k

genre/warnings: angst with teaspoons of fluff; mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

pt. 1 | pt. 2

The grey sheets fail to startle you this time around, granted that it’s been about four days since you first arrived. It’s the constriction of cotton around your body that wakes you up on this Tuesday morning, and your brain can’t fathom why your loose pajamas have suddenly become so uncomfortable. But then the threads tickle the skin of your arms, your legs feel the slight scrape of denim, and your toes have trouble wiggling around due to the constraint of…socks.

Why are you wearing socks to sleep?

Much to your body’s protest, you stumble out of Keiji’s comfortable sheets (note to self: ask him where he got them from) and into the reflection of the body-length mirror in his room. Your vision blurs when all the colors of the rainbow come into place, exploding into a million stars as you lose a bit of your balance. Thankfully, your hand finds purchase against the wall and allows you to regain some stability. It only takes a few seconds, overwhelmingly agonizing as they are, before you can properly assess your current state.

Yesterday’s outfit glares back at you, though much more mussed and wrinkled than you last saw it. Similarly, your hair is in a disarray, hands subconsciously trying to take out any tangles while you can. Knowing the state of cleanliness that Keiji keeps his space in, you feel a wave of regret wash over you for having slept in his bed in air-polluted clothes that must have caught who knows how many germs. Immediately, you move to your suitcase to find something to change into, discarding your current outfit into a large plastic bag that acted as your nomadic hamper. As soon as you’re done, you begin to gather up all the layers of Keiji’s bed, fitted sheet and all, and leaving them on top of the mattress in separate piles by how they should be washed. But while you gather the first bundle into your arms, you take a quick look at the clock, slightly flabbergasted that it’s only a little past 6AM.

In your somewhat frantic attempt to atone for your sins against Keiji’s abode, you failed to notice the lack of sun rays peeking from behind the curtains. And much like you’ve done every day since you showed up, you pull the material back and greet the nostalgic view of Tokyo once more.

But serenity doesn’t come to you. In fact, your heart seems to be weighed down by an unknown anchor. Instinctively, your arms come up to hug yourself slightly, knowing that it’s a feeble attempt at best. The weight gradually mixes with a grasp of suffocation and the feeling closes around your throat. Immediately, you seek a source of fresh air, eyes catching a handle on the window that you somehow missed all these days. This means that Keiji has two separate doors to the balcony, including the one in the living room, and you do your best to quickly yet quietly slide the pane open. As soon as there’s enough space for you to slide through, you practically bound out and lean yourself over the rail of the balcony, lungs taking in deep breaths of oxygen.

Below you, the city has already begun to awaken, pedestrians the size of ants seemingly crawling their away down the street. Faint car honks echo through the city, the occasional train horn blaring louder than the rest. These are sights and sounds you find familiar, and somehow, the unease in your chest settles. Everything seems okay again, and you wonder why it crept up on you so suddenly.

The realization creeps through your veins as you drink in the sight of the SkyTree: you’re not quite ready to leave yet. You don’t think you’re ready to hop on a plane back to Sapporo and back to the apartment that you and Tetsuro spent the last few years building together. Every corner, every nook and cranny of that unit was filled with memories upon memories, mostly good and some bad. And even if you want to think back on them, to be able to look at them and recall the moments fondly, you know that Tetsuro’s unfortunate confession would immediately overshadow all of it. They would just leave you in the same pool of broken bitterness that you originally escaped from.

You still haven’t texted him.

He must be worried sick, you think as your feet drag you back inside and grab your device from the nightstand. You check through your notifications as you step out onto the balcony again, and after a few minutes, your thumb hovers over his conversation thread. A stinging pain courses through your system at the nickname you have set for his contact, and you hate it. You hate how fresh it still feels, completely and utterly frustrated at yourself that part of you still hasn’t let go of him. Why couldn’t you be stronger than this?

But despite your distress, you tap on it and hesitate above the keyboard, trying to think of the right words. Only a few come to your mind, and before you can convince yourself to back out (because you owed him at least this much), your thumbs type out two words and hit the send button, immediately locking it afterwards and sliding it into the pocket of your gym shorts. Out of sight, out of mind, right? He wanted a text of confirmation, you give him a text. That’s all you would allow yourself without crumbling again, and you were trying to put all the Band-aids you could on it.

Undoubtedly, Keiji’s presence helps. It’s easy to not think about Tetsuro when you’re around him, busying yourself with either work emails or recipes that you want to try out. The former doesn’t mind being a guinea pig, as he so kindly put it on Sunday. In fact, he handed you a cookbook from his shelf that had some recipes tabbed with sticky notes, pointing out the ones he thought you might enjoy. Surprisingly, they were all very appealing and to your taste, and part of you wonders if it’s just a mild coincidence. So far, you haven’t messed anything up, and Keiji always finishes his portion with slightly veiled enthusiasm. He knew how much you enjoyed cooking and baking for others, evidence presented by the years of instances when you stopped at their house to drop off your newest creations – so whether or not his compliments were genuine, you took it.

What you don’t know is the number of knowing glances throughout middle and high school that Keiji’s mother would give him as he munched on your edible gifts, pretending to seem unfazed though his eyes adopted a slight twinkle as he ate his fair share. If she could see him now, she’d notice the same shine in them.

Part of you itches to see if Tetsuro read your text message, if he will bother responding. The phone burns in your pocket, but you decide against it, letting it scorch against your thigh as you lean against the rail and watch the sky grow brighter. You miss the carefree mornings like these when you aren’t in a rush to leave the apartment. All that’s really on your mind now is what to make for breakfast, mentally running through all the ingredients that Keiji has.

Today seems like a good day for pancakes.

Keiji’s eyes snap open when his phone goes off, mentally groaning when he realized he forgot to turn off the daily alarm he usually sets for going into work. Now that he’s spending a few days at home, there’s been no need to get up so early. He left it on yesterday since they had that early ride on the bullet train, but with all the events that happened last night, he simply forgot.

Keiji sees that his bedroom door remains closed and believes you’re still asleep. But when he stands up to stretch and looks out his balcony windows, he catches a glimpse of your figure through the gap in the curtains. The breeze from the AC slightly causes them to flutter, giving him a better view as he steps around the couch to get a better angle. You look pensive and somewhat defeated, staring out into the open space as the wind from the heights tousles your hair. He wonders if you’ve taken the initiative to let Tetsuro know if you were okay.

At this thought, his eyes are drawn the phone on his coffee table, staring for a few seconds and calculating to see if this is a good idea. Unable to find any issues with it, he steps back to reach for the device. On the off-chance that you did text him, he doubts that you told your boyfriend where you’re staying. Keiji knows that Tetsuro would be worried regardless and perhaps might gain some comfort from knowing that you were staying with a friend. So before he can chicken out, he taps a short text, ignoring the fact that it’s been months since the two had last spoken outside of the group chat Koutaro created for the three of them and Tsukishima.

The lack of an immediate reply indicates that the former Nekoma captain is either still asleep or busy with his residency. Keiji casts one last look at you, noticing that you haven’t moved in the last few minutes. It seems that you’ll be there for a while and lost in your thoughts. There were only a few times in his life when he had witnessed this faraway look of yours, knowing it was better to leave you alone than to try and rip you out of the reverie. Perhaps he’ll take a chance with breakfast today, a small repayment for the onigiri and juice boxes you bought him on the train.

He thinks you might enjoy having some pancakes.

The deafening creak and slide of plastic ripping away from its rubber suction startles you. Much like you did when Keiji first scared you on Saturday morning, you turn to the source of fright with a hand over your pounding heart, staring in disbelief as said man walks out with a tray of food. Though this time, much to your amusement, he looks rather apologetic. The humor quickly morphs into guilt as you notice the two plates of pancakes – just how long had you been standing out here?

In a few steps, you meet him and silently take the tray from his hands, allowing him to close the balcony door. There’s no good place to put it besides the ground, and when Keiji sits next to it – legs stretched out – with his back against the plexiglass, you demurely mimic his movements on the other side of the tray. Without a word, Keiji places his portion onto his lap and grabs his own set of fork and knife. You simply stare at him until he gestures for you to do the same, returning the small smile he gives you. Both of you say your thanks before digging in, and you can’t help but notice how Keiji has drizzled just the right amount of syrup and in the way that you like it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” you apologize after a few bites in. Despite how fluffy and soft they are, the pancakes have a hard time going down your throat. Keiji had also gone through the trouble of making some freshly squeezed orange juice, yet the sip of the beverage doesn’t help much.

“It’s the least I could do after yesterday,” he says softly, and his eyes let you know he really didn’t mind. “Really, you’ve been cooking everything else. I saw a chance and took it.”

“But still—”

“I was more than happy to do it,” Keiji interjects. “It’s my way of saying thanks.”

“…has anyone ever told you that you’re too kind sometimes?” It’s easier to swallow now.

“Bokuto-san has mentioned it a few times,” he replies quickly, staring at you before you both burst out laughing.

From there, conversation flows more smoothly, topics ranging from the MSBY practice session yesterday to what mangas he’s been editing. The pancakes quickly disappear as the sun beams through the clouds, gradually heating up the earth until it was becoming somewhat unbearable in the heat. Keiji sports a light sheen of sweat by the time you two decide it’s wise to go back inside. He takes the tray before you can even think of grabbing it, ushering you to go ahead and shower first while he washes the dishes. As a sign of thanks, you give an affectionate squeeze around his upper arm as you walk past him.

Keiji pretends that his skin isn’t burning from the touch.

Right as he’s placing everything onto the drying rack, his phone rings from the pocket of his sweatpants. He’s not entirely surprised when Kuroo’s name flashes on the screen – after his text, he figured your boyfriend would either message back with lots of question marks or simply call to demand answers. A quick exhale leaves his lungs as he hits the green button and brings the device to his ear.

“Hi Kuroo-san.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s staying with me’?”

Keiji glances in the direction of the bathroom and hears the shower still running. Chances of you eavesdropping or overhearing would be low.

“It’s exactly what I mean. She’s staying with me for the time being.”

“Why you?”

“Honestly, that’s a good question.”

“…wait, so you didn’t know she was coming?”

“She called me when she was at the airport,” Keiji sighs, leaning back against the sink to keep a lookout on the bathroom. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

“You’ve been treating her okay?”

“Of course, what do you take me for?”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Kuroo groans. “I only have about 10 minutes left in my break. How’s she doing?”

“As well as someone can do when their significant other suddenly tells them they’re not in love with them anymore.”

The silence is deafening over the phone. Keiji didn’t really mean to slip up right then and there, but he couldn’t help the simmering anger rising in his stomach.

“…I’m guessing she told you then.”

“Just last night. I asked when she got here, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. We went to see Bokuto-san yesterday.”

“That would explain the weird text I got from him last night. Did it help?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s good then,” Kuroo sighs into the speaker, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keiji replies. “Though if you don’t mind me asking…how did it happen?”

“I don’t have a lot of time left so I’ll make it quick. It just – I don’t know, it kinda hit me one morning. I was wondering why I stopped feeling like I needed to get home as soon as possible. Stopped asking for details about her day, or at least nothing more than how it was. I’d forget half the things she was telling me whenever she talked about her job. It was nice coming home to someone after a long shift, but I just…it didn’t feel all that special knowing she was the one waiting for me. I love her like a best friend, just not romantically anymore. She doesn’t deserve to get dragged along because I can’t speak up about my feelings, so I told her. You understand, right?”

Immediately, Keiji wants to say no. No, he doesn’t get it. It’s nearly unfathomable to him that Tetsuro can just slowly stop caring about the things that were important to you. He imagines your figure curled up in bed, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to come home safely. He imagines you greeting Tetsuro happily, blissfully unaware that the man only kissed your cheek in greeting as a force of habit.

He imagines your face falling little by little as Tetsuro explains himself, your guard failing to mask the anguish you were feeling, and it pains him. Yet his torment at the thought could only be a small fraction of what you experienced – neither was this the time to be heavily biased.

“I don’t have any say in the matter,” Keiji begins and tries to keep his voice as level as possible. “But you know she’s not going to give in to your terms, right?”

“I know it’s not exactly sensible, but I’m trying—”

“Do you really think she’d be happy knowing that?” He nearly hisses into the phone, simply fed up with Kuroo’s stubbornness. “You’ve just told her you don’t love her anymore, insinuating that you’d be happier without her – knowing how much she loves you, do you really think she’d let you force yourself to try for her sake? You know how selfless she is!”

“And I’m trying to give her a chance to be selfish for once – this is on me, and I could at least try! I loved her once, who says I couldn’t love her again? I’ll give her all the time she needs and—"

“If you really cared about her, you would let her go!”

“It’s not that simple!”

Keiji has never wanted to punch someone so bad in his life. “Don’t you understand it’d be nothing but torture for her? Every day, hanging onto some flimsy hope that everything will go back to the way it used to be? There’s a high chance that you’d never feel that way again, so you’re going to let her waste all that time on you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Tetsuro knows Keiji’s right. He knows, and he loathes it. His own fear of drastic change caused him to spill all those empty promises to you, simply refusing to acknowledge that his own selfish desires were the demons speaking.

“…I’m glad you’re the one she’s staying with. It’s better than being alone in a hotel for a week.”

“You’re digressing.”

“Let her go, huh?”

“Like I said, if you really cared, then yes. Anything she asks of you, go with it. It’s the least you could do.”

“…I gotta go, my break’s up. Thanks, Akaashi.”

Keiji isn’t doing it for him. “Bye, Kuroo-san.”

Beep.

“You cannot leave your room until I let you!”

“(Y/n), what—”

“I need to get groceries and what I’m making is gonna take a really long time, but I’ve been dying to try it and this is the perfect time! I wanna surprise you though.”

“You don’t need to surprise me—”

Keiji’s feet are planted in the entrance of his bedroom door, heels digging into the hardwood as much as they can. After he came out of his shower and grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you were pushing him towards his room, words spilling from your lips a mile a minute.

“Please?” You nearly pout when Keiji turns to get a good look at your face. “You said you need to work anyways, right? I’d be much less of a bother if I was doing something else.”

“You know I don’t mind you being in the same room,” he says gently, hoping that he never said anything that could’ve insinuated your presence wasn’t welcome wherever he was. “Company is nice.”

“We have tomorrow for that, it’s just this one time. Plus, I’m washing the bed and the sheets are still in the dryer.”

“You didn’t have to do that – hey, what if I need to go to the bathroom?”

“You have to promise not to peek!”

“(Y/n)—”

“Pinky promise, right now!” You demand, sticking out a pinky in between the two of you. Keiji pretends to be annoyed at your antics, but he can’t help but smile as your two pinkies link together and thumbs come up for a stamp.

“What if I need to get something to drink?”

“Just let me know and I’ll bring it to you. And no peeking!”

“As I promised, yes.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease, and Keiji can only watch a little despondently as you disappear out the front door. He isn’t looking forward to the same sight that’ll occur in three days, though that time you’ll be lugging a suitcase behind you and potentially leaving for good.

Instantly, the apartment feels too empty. Everything is too quiet again, reminding him why he has a difficult relationship with working from home. Part of him is so used to the hustle and bustle of the manga company that the silence in an empty home somehow feels wrong. And now that some liveliness has been thrown into the mix, painting his abode with splashes of gentle hues, the void feels even more foreign.

You’ll be back within an hour. He just has to bear with it for that short time frame – there’s a decent pile of work waiting for him anyways.

It might be a good time to start practicing being alone again as well.

With determination, Keiji throws himself into his work, only stopping every couple of hours to lean back into his chair and rub his eyes. His little energy bursts come in various forms: when you first came back and greeted, “I’m home!” through his bedroom door, whenever you come in to refill his cup of water, when you come in with two plates of sandwiches during lunch time, and when you bring him some tea as a change of pace in the afternoon. Every gesture is strongly appreciated, and he wishes he could help you in the kitchen.

(He tries to ignore how domestic everything feels. It’s a sensation he finds himself getting drunk on, the bliss encasing his nerves with a pleasant numbness.)

Keiji broadcasts a bit of his work to you, talking you through his process and the things he looks out for when editing. With you, he doesn’t have to worry about leaking spoilers – in fact, you look more enraptured with his set-up than anything. He enjoys the awe and childlike wonder that cloud your face. It’s a far cry from the ruminative expression from this morning, and Keiji hopes that he’ll never have to see that face again.

Always a man of his word, he stays in his bedroom while you finish making dinner. Based on the smell and distinct sound of something being seared in a hot pan, Keiji gathers there’s meat involved. Earlier, his food processor had been going as well, though he couldn’t exactly place why it sounded like you were beating something against the counter. You might have been butchering something, meaning there was meat involved. But he knows his curiosity will be pleasantly sated and bides his time with mindless YouTube videos.

There’s a quiet knock on his door before it opens, revealing your slightly exhausted frame. Concern washes over him as his eyes frantically assess your current state, flitting around until he spots where your hand seems to be cradling the other. It could only mean one of two possible scenarios, and without a word, he grabs the medicine box from his closet in search of the burn ointment. You begin to try and explain what happened, but before you can even say that you accidentally touched one of racks in the oven with the back of your wrist, you spot the little tube between Keiji’s fingers and fall silent. His eyebrows furrow as he approaches you, standing no more than a couple of centimeters away from you as he finds the burn and begins to apply the balm.

“You should’ve let me help,” he says quietly, regret laced through the words. His lithe fingers hesitate over the mark, hoping that the salve was applied quickly enough to prevent any potential blistering.

“This is nothing,” you try to soothe him. “I was just lost in thought and didn’t realize that my arm was getting a little too close. What matters most is that I still saved the dinner.”

Keiji shakes his head and releases his hold. “That’s not the most important at all. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

“You can help me by waiting here for another 15 minutes until I tell you to come out.”

“You know that’s not—”

“Keiji,” you firmly interject. Your hands grasp one of his, clenching around them to let him know it was okay. The small burn was no one’s fault but yours, and there was no need for him to feel guilty. “I’m okay, really. All the hard parts are over now, I just need to let something cool down and set up the table.”

The man before you releases a defeated sigh and you let go of his hand. Instantly, he misses the warmth and subconsciously flexes his hand in some strange attempt to retain the heat running through his fingers. “Call for me if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course.”

Once more, you exit his room and close the door behind you. He takes this time to stand by and stare out his balcony doors, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. A warm, orange glow fills his room as Keiji turns to look at his freshly washed bed, remembering the way you had scuttled in with an armful of linen and batted him away repeatedly from trying to help. He pictures the way you would curl up in sleep, imagining once again just how nice it would be to wake up together with the Tokyo sunrise.

“Dinner’s ready,” your voice calls out from behind him, stealing him away from his daydream. He makes his way around the bed to meet you where you demand him to close his eyes. The skeptical look causes you to laugh as you continue to goad him.

“I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything, promise.”

“If I so much as nudge a table with my big toe, I will kick you out.”

“So dramatic,” you scoff and roll your eyes. “Come on, please?”

Giving in to your requests seems second nature now, he realizes as his eyes slip shut, relying on nothing but the gentle hold you have on his hands and the sound of your voice. You do well in warning him about any possibility he might bump into something and Keiji’s trust in you solidifies – hell, they could be on the outskirts of an exploding volcano and he’d let you drag him around with a blindfold on. He can feel the nervousness rolling off you as you sit him down in his chair, hurriedly taking the seat across from him and adjusting yourself. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

Keiji has to blink a few times to refocus his vision and chooses to ignore the way your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for the plate in front of him. Two slices of beef wellington sit elegantly on the white porcelain, a glass of red wine in the top corner, and a set of a knife and fork on opposite sides. It looks straight out of a cookbook and he loves that you were right – he would be pleasantly surprised, and your hard work would certainly pay off.

But what makes the smile on his face form is the memory of you two discussing different cooking shows on the walk home from school one evening. You had asked him out of the blue if he watched anything cooking-related, and when he had listed some of the channels he watched from time to time, you rattled off a list of things you wanted to try making some day but never could with time constraints. Beef wellington had been one of those items, as well as a croquembouche, Totoro macarons, and others.

“Did you finally get to live out your Great British Bake Off dreams with the puff pastry?” Keiji jokes, lifting his utensils and beginning to cut through the meat. At his question, he realizes you must’ve been pounding out the slab of butter to be used when making puff pastry from scratch.

“That, and try to channel Gordon Ramsay for everything else,” you chuckle and watch him carefully as he chews on his first bite.

“This is really good, holy shit,” he murmurs and relief floods your system. “Are you sure this is your first time making it?”

“Yep!”

“I’m gonna have to get seconds later,” Keiji says, still slightly suspended in disbelief. You’re practically shaking in your seat from how well received the dish is.

“Try to save some room for the dessert wine later.”

“Oh, you bought some?”

“Yeah, they had the brand we like at the supermarket.”

“What’s the occasion?”

You ponder on that for a bit, trying to find the right words for it. What he didn’t know was that you caught the last half of his conversation on the phone with Tetsuro. At first, you felt a flare of anger when you put the pieces together and realized that Keiji had ratted out your location, almost storming out of the bathroom to give him a piece of your mind. But when you heard him defend and stand up for you, you faltered, hand hovering over the doorknob. Once again, he was holding your best interests at heart and risking potentially fraying his friendship with Tetsuro for you. It was exactly the kind of support you needed in that moment.

So you do what you’ve always done to show gratitude when it comes to Keiji: make something edible for him. In middle and high school, you felt that food was the least awkward thing you could give to him if he did something for you, considering that you felt you two weren’t very close. Permanent gifts were a touch too intimate, and you could always hide the fact that you were gifting him something under the pretense of wanting to give it to his mother instead. Any batch of cookies, muffins, palmiers, or pastries were mainly meant for him, saying thanks for walking home with you, driving you home, entertaining you during get-togethers, letting you win in Monopoly for once, and many more. That was something you originally planned to take to your grave since you figured that Keiji would find it weird or disturbing, but now…now seemed okay.

Just not this exact moment.

“To a new beginning,” you decide and lift up your glass, angling it towards him for cheers.

“To a new beginning,” he echoes. Keiji clinks his glass against you and you both take a sip, his eyes glimmering over the rim.

You are very tipsy. Borderline drunk. You honestly can’t remember the last time you got wine drunk, but somehow you just couldn’t stop drinking. If you had to give your best estimate, about 70% of the red wine had been consumed by you. And now that the dessert wine was open, you were nearing 60% of that as well.

Keiji sits on the opposite side of the couch from you, indulging you by letting you watch Ouran High School Host Club through some streaming service on his TV. It had been ages since he last saw anything from it, though he mainly focuses on your how far your inebriation is getting ahead of you. An hour ago, he had placed a cup of water by your side, though there was still half of it left. He wonders if he should be cutting you off soon, but you look too carefree and happy. And from experience, he knows that you could easily walk in a straight line if told to. It was an uncanny ability that you possessed, one that was somewhat showcased when you and Tetsuro showed up at a house party in college he just happened to also attend. Smashed overexaggerated your drunken state at the time, but the glossy look in your eyes now was very similar to that incident all those years ago.

The laugh that erupts from your chest as a result of Haruhi’s deadpan humor is slurred and lasts a little too long to be considered normal. Keiji feels his chest ease up when you reach for the water this time instead of the alcohol and chug it all down. He freezes when you turn towards him with a lazy smile spread across your face, but it turns into a pout when you hand him the now empty mug.

“Keiji-kun,” you mumble. “Please gimme more water?”

“You can’t get it yourself?” He taunts, chuckling when your pout intensifies.

“I don’t wanna acci-acc-accid-accidentally break the mug. You brought it from your parents’, right? I used this one all the time back then.”

“Mmm,” he hums, prying the porcelain from your hands and standing to comply with your request.

Not even a minute passes after he returns when you clumsily shift closer to him. He doesn’t even have to time to internally gasp when you lay down on your back and plop your head onto his thighs, his arms now slightly suspended in the air because he honestly has no idea what to do with them. The best he can come up with is resting one arm on the back of the couch, the other tentatively placed on top of your head. He fights the need to run his fingers through your hair, although knowing it would bring you some comfort as the world begins to blur. It takes everything in him to not look down, but he’s not absorbing anything from the anime. The sounds fall short to the pounding in his ears, and the only time he can remember being this nervous was their last volleyball match during Nationals.

“Thank you, Keiji.”

“Hm? For what?”

“…sticking up for me to Tetsu.”

“…didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Keiji attempts to digress, pinching the shell of your ear.

“It hurts!” You cry out, overstating the pain you felt. In his defense, he barely put any force behind it. “I just wanted to say thank you, ‘s all.”

“It was nothing, I—”

“You really think we’re friends?”

Keiji frowns. “I said that before, didn’t I? Did you ever think we weren’t?”

“Honestly…no, I didn’t,” you confess. It’ll be a miracle if you remember any of this tomorrow morning. “You always seemed so far away…there were a few times when I thought you maybe hated me, only tolerated me because you’d never hear the end of it from your mom if she ever caught you being mean to me. I mean, if you ever think about it…you never talked about yourself, y’know?”

Keiji pauses the TV, throwing the apartment into complete silence. He only hears your shaky breathing and the AC running.

“Anything I ever heard about you was from your mom because she’d tell my mom, and then my mom would gossip,” you continue, chuckling bitterly at the end. “I knew you, but did I really know you? It felt so weird, walking by you in school and knowing what you were struggling with. But then you’d just smile at me like nothing was wrong and that hurt.”

He’s been staring at the same frame for the last minute or so and feels more and more awful with every word that leaves your lips. Somehow it’s everything he’s wanted to hear for years, but it’s also so bittersweet and tragic. But the more important matter currently at hand is the sound of your sniffles. Oh god, are you crying? Keiji finally has a reason to look at you now, studying how a forearm is strewn across your eyes – but he can see the tear tracks and feel the dampness on his sweatpants as they slide down your face. He attempts to move the limb away but you resist as much as you can, though it doesn’t take much. Keiji reaches over and plucks out a tissue to help clean you up, trying to placate both you and the semblance of a heartbreak.

“I was always worried that you were just – hic – hiding your emotions, bottling them up inside until it’d burst one day. But then I had to – hic -- remind myself that you had other close friends to confide in. With how much you got along with your teammates, I figured they’d keep an eye on you…but I still worried a lot. I hoped that you’d finally open up during our family dinners someday. Instead, it took a break-up and me getting drunk.”

He’s frozen when you lift your hand to his face, the tips of your fingers barely ghosting over his jawline. The anguish in your eyes is palpable; he can’t help but broaden the contact, leaning into your palm until it’s cradling his cheek while maintaining eye contact with you.

“You were okay, right?” You whisper. “You could talk to Koutaro? Or Akinori?”

Keiji’s gaze softens considerably. He analyzes the drooping of your eyelids, how they fight to stay open until you receive a desirable answer from him. It’s incredibly touching how much you wanted to reach out to him during all those years, waiting, wishing, hoping. You were right – he did expose some of his more vulnerable moments to his teammates. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t have days where he ached to call you and spill every negative emotion he was feeling.

“I was okay, I promise,” Keiji reassures you, giving in to comb through your hair. “Thank you, (y/n), for caring about me.”

Your arm slowly drops from its hold and curls up against your chest. Even in your drunken state, you feel at peace, like the world has finally been lifted from your shoulders. It’s the answer that you’ve been silently searching for all this time, the unknown stewing and festering in the back of your mind.

“I’m…glad…”

Keiji observes as you fall asleep and your breaths even out. With a heavy sigh, he gathers you into his arms bridal-style, hoping that the jostling doesn’t wake you up. Just like last night, he tucks you into bed, though not without leaving a gentle press of his lips against your temple.

The futon is cold and lonely. He’s really starting to not like it very much.

Wednesday and Thursday fly by so fast that he wonders if he accidentally time-traveled into Friday. Before he knows it, you’re rolling your suitcase out of his bedroom and towards his front door. As you slip on your shoes, your mind rattles off the locations of your important things: phone, wallet, keys, passport, driver’s license, and more. You turn back to look at your gracious host, shooting him your most appreciative smile.

“Thank you for everything this past week, Keiji. You don’t know how much it means to me, and I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“I was happy to have you, and you’ve done more than you needed to in trying to pay me back. Are you sure you don’t need me to drop you off at the airport?”

“I couldn’t impose on you any longer,” you wave off. “An Uber will do just fine.”

“You’ll let me know when you’re there? When you get back to your apartment?”

“Yes, mother,” you poke fun at him, laughing at the way he rolls his eyes.

“I’ll let that one pass for now. Remember, you can call me anytime, okay? About anything, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll remember that. See you around then?”

“See you around. Be safe.”

Neither of you make a move, not until Keiji steps forward to wrap you in a tight embrace. You do your best to return it ounce of ounce, bundling the back of his shirt in your fists. The last seven days have been pivotal to your friendship and you’ll never forget everything he’s done for you. Minutes pass, neither wanting to pull back until you can’t anymore, needing to meet the Uber outside. Keiji doesn’t have the heart to walk you all the way to the main entrance of the apartment complex, and you don’t force him.

Sitting in the airplane back to Sapporo is much less nerve-wracking than you originally predicted. You already have a list in mind of how to clear things out with Tetsuro, what steps you two need to take to make this split as seamless as possible. Various apartment listings had been bookmarked over the last couple of days, units big enough for just one person rather than two. The wound is still somewhat fresh, but scabs have already begun to form. You have Keiji to thank for in this process of healing.

As promised, you update him whenever you can, the final notice sent when you stand outside the door of your and Teturo’s apartment. It’s impossible for the nerves to not strike you now, even more so as you slowly unlock the door. The work shoes to the side of the doorway indicates that he is home, probably passed out in bed after a long shift. You quietly pad around the unit while putting some of your stuff away, though leaving the suitcase in the living room for now. When you step into the bedroom, Tetsuro is curled up on your side of the mattress, breathing deeply and soundly.

Two months ago, you would have peppered his face with kisses, demanding that he give you enough room to cuddle next to him. He would have opened his arms willingly, trapping you effectively in his new cage and you would’ve never thought of wanting to escape from him. So much has changed now, you think as you sit on the edge. You believe your action was subtle, but he stirs from his asleep, addressing the fact that you have returned. There is no screaming or crying, no tears or pleading. Instead, he shifts closer to give you an awkward hug around your waist while still laying on his side. It’s not the kind of hug that says, “Welcome home,” or “I miss you”, though.

It says, “I’m sorry,” and the placement of your hand on his embrace replies, “It’s okay.”

2 years later

Keiji likes this new routine with you.

For the last year and a half, you two schedule a weekly video call to catch up with each other. He likes this because he can watch you pull yourself together, adjust to the new life without Tetsuro. He gets to hear all the work stories that the other stopped bothering to pay attention to, no longer waiting for your next Snapchat or Instagram story update. Keiji’s at the friendship level now where he knows something has happened before you even post the photo. Sometimes you both cook together, finding a recipe that you’ll want to try. Other times you might just want to watch an episode or two of a show that’s caught both of your interests, swearing to each other that you’ll avoid spoilers or watching ahead.

It’s not the kind of relationship he truly wants with you, but it’s close enough and he’d be a fool to not take it.

Last week, you had to miss the video call, saying that your boss dropped a massive project onto your desk. You were going to be pulling overtime, and Keiji reminds you to take the necessary breaks. Texting is sparse and he feels the worry exponentially grow – were you pushing yourself too hard? Were you eating foods other than convenience store bentos and onigiris? Were you getting enough sleep at night?

His phone blares your custom ringtone from his kitchen counter and Keiji practically lunges for it, quickly picking up and holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

What is this feeling of déjà vu? “I was about to start cooking something up just now, why? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was so busy, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk last week. What about you?”

“I’m good, everything’s normal. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home. By the way, I bought you a gift. They said it got delivered not a few minutes ago.”

“Really? That’s weird, the front desk usually notifies me as soon as they get it. But you shouldn’t have.”

“Consider it an early birthday present,” he hears and relishes in the warmth your words bring. “Why don’t you go downstairs and check?”

“I guess I can. Stay on the phone with me?”

“Of course.”

“What’d you get me?”

“What’s the point in me telling you when you’re about to open it in a few minutes?”

“Well,” Keiji starts and wrenches open the door. “I—”

He stops in his tracks, voice caught in his throat. You stand sheepishly before him, phone still at your ear as you drink in his stunned expression. Keiji doesn’t get taken by surprise very often, and you wish you had a camera for this moment. Koutaro would’ve loved it.

“Hey there,” he hears from you and through the speaker, a slight delay between the two phrases as his mind grasps at the situation.

“Why are you here?” He asks, hanging up and letting you in. Keiji hopes it doesn’t sound as rude as it might’ve come across. Like a gentleman, he takes your jacket and allows you enough space to take off your shoes.

“They’re doing renovations at my new apartment so I can’t really move in yet…I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days?”

Wait, new apartment? “Are you moving back to Tokyo?”

Excitement isn’t enough to describe the pure feeling of joy that runs through his veins when you nod. This is what you must have been so busy dealing with, packing everything up and scheduling a small moving van. All you have is your purse and a large suitcase, meaning that the rest of your belongings must still be en route.

“You can stay for as long as you need to. Take the bed, I can—”

“Actually, I lied. Not about moving to Tokyo,” you quickly defend when he seems to bristle at your words. “There aren’t any renovations and the rest of my stuff is coming tomorrow…but I purposely booked a ticket to get here today. You’re the first person I wanted to see.”

Not your parents, not some of your other friends. Him. You wanted to come and see him first before anyone else. The tone in your confession holds so much weight, a fondness in them that’s too intimate for someone who was just a friend. This was your way of trying to let him know that there was something more going on, but you were afraid that he would reject you. The ball was in his court now, and it was entirely up to him to decide how to proceed.

No one knows you better than him. No one is in tune or in sync with you as much as he is. It’s terrifyingly thrilling, but you want this. You want him.

So he takes one stride forward, cradles your face between his hands, and crashes his lips onto yours with a searing passion that’s been kept under lock and key for far, far too long. It’s perfect, you smile to yourself. But most of all…

It feels like home.

Bonus (a week later):

[Konoha]: hey, kou, is keiji dating anyone????

[Bokuto]: not that I know of??? why???

[Konoha]: apparently he just rsvp’d to my wedding and said he’s bringing a plus one??? i’m so confused, why wouldn’t he tell us??

[Bokuto]: did your fiancée see a name anywhere?

[Konoha]: hang on, she’s checking.

[Konoha]: oh shit.

[Konoha]: OH SHIT.

[Konoha]: HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK

[Bokuto]: WHO IS IT YOU BETTER TELL ME RIGHT NOW

[Konoha]: HE’S BRINGING FUCKING (Y/N) JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[Bokuto]: ABOUT GODDAMN TIME

[Konoha]: YOU OWE ME 5000 YEN, PAY UP

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attackonmyself · 4 years

Text

Beat the Heat--NSFW

Inspired by a prompt from @voltage-vixen‘s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge but took waaaaay too long for me to complete, and I missed the deadline. Anyways, thanks to @voltagesmutter, @passagesthroughpages, and Lia_Jones (all amazing writers themselves!) for all your help! Dedicated to all Victor stans, and my Discord family!

Please see this amazing artwork that inspired my fic!: https://m.sg.weibo.com/user/2173912080/4472175635540915

And also this Karma owned by MLQC:

Link on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654276

I sprinted into the LFG lobby, out of breath. I was late. Again.

Cindy spotted me, and quickly gestured towards the stairs. “He’s been waiting for you, go on up.” I groaned, still out of breath, then crossed the lobby. Great, I thought as I ran up the stairs. Another lecture on punctuality, coming right up. I stopped before the office door, taking a moment to catch my breath before knocking.

“Come in,” came the clipped reply. Even better, it sounded like he was already in a bad mood. This should be fun. I entered, closing the door behind me. Victor was sitting at his desk, skimming something on his computer. He looked up, removing his glasses and placing them next to his desk calendar. “It is 2:33.”

I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

His normal poker face had been replaced with a scowl. “What time did I say to be here?”

“2:30.” It didn’t matter how close we had become, some things never changed. When at work, Victor was always in prime CEO mode, any trace of my shy and sweet boyfriend disappearing the moment he walked in the office doors.

“It seems your memory is indeed working today, despite all evidence to the contrary. So perhaps you like to explain why that was not the time you entered my office?” Being on the receiving end of a Victor-Li-is-irked glare was never a good experience, but unfortunately, that was often the position I found myself in.

“Our printer jammed at the last second, and wouldn’t print a contract that my 1:30 client needed to sign before they could leave, so I was stuck there calling maintenance and then waiting for them to show up, and then waiting for them to fix it, and then--”

“Stop. I’ve heard enough.” He rubbed his temples, eyes closed. “You do realize this is the modern era, yes? Contracts can be sent over email, and signed digitally. We will need to discuss your company’s disturbing lack of adaptation to current technology at another time; you have wasted enough of it already. Begin your report.”

“Right.” I pulled out my newly purchased tablet and cleared my throat. “As you can see, we exceeded our predicted revenue this month. Views that we lost last week were not just recovered, but doubled.” I fidgeted a bit under his intense stare.

“I implemented the ideas we discussed last week, and they were successful For future consideration, I’d like to bring to your attention--”

The soft whirring of the air conditioning of the building sputtered to a startling halt. I paused, and looked at Victor for direction. He sighed, and picked up the phone on his desk when it began to ring. “Speak.” I heard a hurried voice on the other end, and watched Victor’s frown deepen. “What?” More frantic explanation from the voice, trying to appease him, and then Victor hung up.

“Something wrong?” I asked, hoping that an urgent matter had come up, so that I could move my report to later when he would hopefully be in a better mood.

“The air conditioning stopped working. It will take a few hours to fix.” I groaned internally. It was the middle of July, peak season for hot days, and Victor’s office was directly in the sun’s path at the moment, the windows offering no protection from its heat. He shed his suit jacket, draping it over the arm of his chair. “Continue,” he commanded.

“Uh,” I scrambled to remember my place. “For future consideration, I’d like to bring to your attention trendlines predicting future revenue on episodes based on current events.” I began to sweat, already missing the almost too cold climate I had complained about in the past, and vowed to never do so again.

“Our most popular episodes to date have been ones related to current issues in the news. Our recent collaboration with Loveland TV gave us access to topics and resources that we might not have had otherwise. Therefore, I propose that we begin a new series to be aired in conjunction with local news stations beyond just Loveland TV that would cover oddities addressed in daily reports.”

Ok, the heat had officially become unbearable. I took off my white cardigan, putting in on top of my bag. Victor did a double-take, eyes widening. Uh oh. I forgot how casual my dress was. I tried to distract him with the report. “The series would cover not just super powers, but also delve into the psyche--”

“Stop, stop.” Crap. He was still staring at my dress. “What do you think you’re wearing?!”

“Uh, a sundress?” I responded dumbly. He glared at me. I fumbled for an excuse, though not knowing why I needed one exactly. “It’s the middle of July. I know it’s not formal business attire without the cardigan, but it’s hot in here without the AC. I thought you would understand that and be ok with me not wearing it considering the circumstances.”

He gaped, apparently shocked. “You thought wrong. Do you seriously not realize how alluring that dress is?”

Wait what? “Huh?”

He shook his head. “Dummy, you are astoundingly naive sometimes. Wearing that to any presentation, including this one, leads the audience to focus not on your proposal, but your physical assets.” I blushed, and covered myself a bit with my arms. He continued. “For example, I missed everything you presented after taking off your cardigan. Be thankful this was only a weekly report meeting, and not an official proposal for more funding with the entire board present.” He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk.

I looked down, ashamed. “I really am sorry, Victor. That would have embarrassed both Miracle Company and you; I understand now and I will do better in the future.”

“No, you misunderstand me.” He stood, and strode quickly towards me, crossing the room in a few broad steps. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look him in the eye. “The only person who should see you in outfits of this nature is me.” It was the hunger in his eyes that made me realize I was no longer talking to the CEO of LFG, but Victor Li, my protective and now aroused boyfriend.

Desperate lips met mine, taking my breath away. I was always weak for his kisses, this time literally. My knees gave in a bit, and I held onto his arms as he pushed deeper. I eagerly reciprocated, a need for his touch growing rapidly under my navel. We broke apart for only a moment, before he claimed my lips again and ran strong fingers up my neck and into my hair, gently nudging my face closer to his.

Victor was not a man of many flowery words, but he made up for it in his actions. Every kiss we shared was so fervent that you would think it was going to be our last. Even in moments of raw passion, it was obvious how deeply he cared for me, and I fell more in love with him each time our lips united. This kiss was no exception; I sank into his yearning for me, throwing my arms around his neck.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around my thighs, and I felt myself being lifted into the air. I scrambled to wind my legs around his waist, holding him tighter. We were intimately closer than before, and I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It amazed me that I could have such an effect on the seemingly stoic mogul, that I could be the one to break his cool. His lips captured mine once more, then he impatiently moved us towards his desk.

“Hold tight,” he instructed, using one arm to awkwardly clear off the desktop, sending pens and his mouse flying. He set me atop it, beginning to suck at the pulse point above my collarbone, when reality hit me.

“Wait, stop,” I whispered harshly. He immediately backed away, arms to his side.

“What’s wrong?” Concern overtook ardor, and he scanned my figure. “Did I hurt you?” That thought seemed to shake him a bit.

“No, nothing like that,” I quickly reassured him. “But...should we really be doing this in your office? People might hear, or worse, what if someone came in?”

His confidence immediately returned, desire resuming its place in his eyes as I mentioned others overhearing our stolen moment of passion. He smirked, leaning in close.

“Let them hear.” He continued his attack on my neck, but I wouldn’t be swayed just yet.

“Victor,” I chided. “I’m not comfortable with someone catching us in your office. That wouldn’t look good for either of us.” He stopped, judging my sincerity, then walked away.

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked, reaching out an arm towards him needily, missing his warmth already. Had I angered him?

“Relax, dummy.” He strode up to the door and turned the lock, its satisfying click signaling his intentions. He turned and smiled devilishly. “No one is going anywhere until we are finished.”

He hastened back to me, as if I were his prey, strung up and waiting for him on a platter. He kissed me again, and loosened his tie to quell the sweltering heat. I grabbed for his shirt, undoing the first few buttons before he stopped me with a lick to a particularly sensitive area behind my earlobe. He undid his tie the rest of the way and set it down beside me on the desk. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, untucking it roughly. I gulped upon being met with the sight of his broad chest. As if controlled by some unknown force, my hands ran over his torso, brushing his collarbone and hips alike, searching for any point of contact with him.

He placed feather light kisses all over my face and neck, brushing my cheek; my eyelids; the small v formed by my collarbones. As lovely as his display of affection was--and it truly was; not often did we get a chance to bask in the other’s devotion--it wasn’t quite enough. I needed more.

I ran my hands down his abdomen, grabbing for his belt buckle, but he caught my hand in his and tsked.

“Someone needs to learn to be patient.” His hands left me, and I let out a whine. He picked up the flimsy piece of fabric that lay beside me and wrapped it around my face, covering my eyes.

“Is this okay?” I heard a soft whisper beside my left ear.

His breath tickled me a bit, paused in anticipation of my answer. I hold absolute control over him at this moment, I realized with a small gasp. The power was a heady feeling; Loveland’s most eligible ‘bachelor’ was all mine, treating me as if I was some queen to be worshipped. Although he was leading most of the action, I held the ropes. And I would be ever so careful not to abuse this gift. What’s more, after years of having to take care of myself on my own, I now could trust him. Completely.

“Yes.”

That one word spurred him back into action. He quickly fastened the makeshift blindfold behind my head, careful to avoid knotting my hair with it. I heard a low groan, and then my skirt was pushed up, warm hands rubbing slow circles on my inner thighs.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine, sending shivers down my spine. "There is nothing I would not do to keep you safe and happy."

I bucked my hips towards his, searching for any friction to relieve my need. Suddenly, I felt a hand over my underwear, massaging my clit leisurely. I let out a breathy moan. Finally. His steady fingers ran back and forth across the fabric, gentle yet firm in their ministrations. "Faster, please Victor," I gasped, spreading my legs. He obeyed, for once, going faster and faster until all fear of others intruding disappeared. I could only think about him, his touch, and my palpable desire to become one with him.

I could feel a flush rise in my cheeks, the sounds coming from my mouth garbled and brimming with pleasure. I reached blindly for him, needing to touch him for stability; so that I could hold off my climax a little longer, but was met only with air. I let out a whine. I heard a chuckle from somewhere in front of me. Seconds later, strong hands guided mine to his shoulders; his warm body moved closer, parting my legs further.

I was already beyond wet by this point, and I felt ready for him but knowing Victor, he wouldn't enter me until he was sure I was relaxed and ready for him. "Please, hurry up, I need you, now," I urged.

Surprisingly, he decided to grant my request. I heard the soft clink of a belt buckle being undone followed by a rustling of fabric. I hooked my ankles behind him, wanting, no, needing him in me as soon as humanly possible. A hand ran through my hair, and then my underwear was pushed to the side; in one fluid motion he had both lifted me into the air and entered me with a soft moan. I gasped, throwing my head back and digging my fingers into the well-defined muscles of his shoulders.

The sensation of him inside me was more intense in the dark. I felt so safe, protected and satisfied in his arms. It was as if all my fears and worries had melted away. I knew that he would shield me from any incoming darkness that dared to threaten me. He pulled back for a moment, then slowly slid inside me once more, giving me time to adjust and savor the feeling of us, united as one.

We maintained a comfortable rhythm, my hips grinding down to meet his as I panted against his neck. There was no need for words; anything that needed to be said was communicated through movement and small gasps and moans. I realized that I could no longer hear the ticking of the wall clock, its telling absence revealing that time was no longer in motion.

I drew in a breath to mention it, but he suddenly changed to a different angle, shifting me in his arms, and sparks burst behind my eyelids. “Don’t you dare stop, right--right there!” I practically screamed. He hummed in confirmation, building speed. I let out a series of whines, bouncing down into his thrusts in desperation to add to the surging, rising tide of pleasure that's only just out of reach. I could hear Victor’s pleasure as well in the short, cut off breaths he let out.

“Are you close,” he ground out, ever the gentleman in refusing to come before me.

“Very,” I replied, concentrating on my climax, adding a finger to my clit. A few more strokes, and it hit me--hard. I screamed out his name and clenched around him. He gasped, and I felt a warmth inside me as he tightened his grip on me. The waves of pleasure taking hold of me ebbed slowly; suddenly, I could see again, tie dropping to the floor.

Victor cradled me close and kissed the top of my head. We remained entangled in each other’s embrace for a few moments longer, catching our breath. He slid out of me, but didn’t let me go. I buried my face in his neck, flushing at the whispered “I love you” that came from beside my ear.

Suddenly, the ticking resumed and the space that was only ours returned to being shared with the rest of the world. I was gently set down on the desk, and I grabbed a tissue to clean myself up. We began to redress and had almost finished when there was a knock at the door.

“Sir, the mechanics from Four Seasons Heating and Air have arrived,” Goldman’s voice came from behind the solid wood. “Would you like to direct them or should I handle it?”

Victor gestured at my cardigan, “That goes on; tightly,” he said in a low voice, then he grabbed his suit jacket and approached the door. I buttoned it quickly, barely finishing in time before he swung the door open.

There was an awkward silence as Goldman took in our appearance. He did a quick double take, then stammered an apology. “Sir, I--uh--”

I flushed brightly; there was no way to conceal what we had been up to. Only Victor stood stoic as always, not caring about our disheveled state or the smudge of my lipstick on the corner of his mouth. “Mark me as booked for the next two hours,” he announced, glancing at his watch. “I expect the air conditioning to be up and running when I return.”

“Next two hours--but sir! You have the meeting with the investors from--” Goldman was cut off with a glare. Typical. I felt sorry for him.

“Did I ask for any feedback? I said that I am booked for the next two hours. Make any schedule changes necessary in my absence.” He put an arm around my waist and led me out of the room in the direction of the elevator.

“But sir!” Victor paid him no mind and as the door closed, he pulled me into another kiss.

“How do you feel about lunch at Souvenir?”

“Mm, sounds great!” I replied, smoothing down his slightly rumpled shirt. Oh! Pulling back with a smile, I suddenly laughed. “Victor!”

He frowned. “What.”

“You forgot your tie!”

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc victor smut #mlqc writing #my writing #this took way too long

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apriorisea · 4 years

Note

Angst with yoongi or jungkook. Their girlfriend having a hard time but they didn't think it was smt serious so they weren't there for her and just focusing on work. She didn't say anything to them, just trying to deal with it alone but it's just keep getting worse. She lose some weight, always tired and not so cheerful like before. Eventually they realize it when she faint in their arms (i am sorry it's really long i hope you write smt like that, you are one of my fave writers 👍💜)

--Hi! As usual 😅I apologize that this took so long! Thank you so much for the idea and for your sweet compliments---I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it! I hope you enjoy 💕💜

“The Problem”You x Yoongi

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you say, smiling as you lean across the center console to kiss Yoongi’s cheek. Your smile grows bigger as you see the pleased expression cross his face and add: “But I’m really glad you did.” He turns his head and kisses you firmly. “I love you,” he says softly. “I’ll take any chance I can to be with you.” He rests his hand on the back of your neck, playfully holding you in place. “In fact, why don’t you just blow off work today, come with me instead?” You groan, leaning into his arm and brushing your lips against the inside of his wrist. “Don’t tempt me.” He smiles. “I’m sorry I can’t pick you up tonight. Do you want me to send someone?” “No.” You lean forward to ask for another kiss, smiling when he gives you what you want. “I’ll just see you at home tonight. Try not to stay too late, okay?” When he smiles an agreement, you give him a wink and climb out of the car. “Love you!” You’re still smiling when you enter the building, and just before you settle in at your desk, you pull out your phone: This was a terrible idea…you better just come back and get me ;) His answer comes just as you are opening your email: Perfect. Let’s just drive and drive and drive, yeah? Two seconds later, he adds: I LOVE YOU. Grinning, you don’t even read the title of the email before you open it. The happy mood evaporates immediately. It’s 8:32am on a Monday morning, and your boss is already fuming. The project you and your team had put together had apparently not met his expectations and the deadline to turn in a new, better proposal was by the end of the day. Feeling your stomach twist into knots, you turn to scan the office for your coworkers—meeting the eyes of one of them, you exchange nervous looks. It’s going to be a long day.

“He’s just not going to be happy with any of this,” Coworker #2 says, tipping back in his seat irritably. “None of it.” Another team member, Coworker #3, pushes a strand of hair back behind her ear. “That’s a cheerful outlook, thank you.” “You know the mood he’s been in lately,” he says darkly. “This feels like a head hunt.” Glancing at your watch, you struggle to catch your breath. It was 1:36pm and the three of you had been working for hours on a new project proposal. 25 minutes ago the boss had sent a warning email, his tone none the happier. “What do you mean a head hunt?” He throws his arms in the air exasperatedly. “You know, like, looking to fire someone to get over his bad mood.” Your other coworker slaps his arm. “Stop it!” she says, genuinely angry. “You don’t know anything about anything. He’s not going to fire anyone over this stupid project!” The door clicks shut as the fourth and final member of your team walks in, holding a coffee cup. “He knows enough,” he says, sipping his drink. “Word on the street is that we need to downsize and almost anyone could be the target.” Your anxiety increases at his presence and arrogant words. “He’s not going to fire a whole team over a minor-level project,” you say coolly. He fixes you with a look. “You’re right. All he needs is one scapegoat.” Taking a deep breath to stay calm, you give him a look. “Well then, let’s spend more time working and less time talking, huh?” He eyes you but doesn’t respond, slinking slowly into his seat. Your attention is soon turned to other matters, but you never really lose the pit of nerves that his words had opened. It sits there, festering like an open wound, demanding your attention even when you refuse. By the end of the work day, you are exhausted, mentally and physically, and by the time you reach your apartment, you are an anxious mess: the inside of your lower lip is raw from the constant worried chewing and your head is pounding from the stress. As you climb the stairs to your apartment, you think about the day: your team had managed to complete a rough draft for the new project proposal just in time, and, though he wasn’t thrilled, your boss had agreed to give you the rest of the week to complete it. You bite down on your lower lip again. It’s not terrible, but it’s also not great. Reaching your front door, you’re suddenly frozen by the sound of your coworker’s words echoing in your mind: “All he needs is one scapegoat.” Your stomach twists and you force another deep breath before you can open the door. Stepping out of your shoes, you drop your bag to the ground and survey the apartment: there’s a basket of laundry sitting in the corner of the living room, waiting to be done, and a few dishes still in the sink. Releasing a slow, even breath, you try to let the familiarity of home calm you down. The team had worked straight through lunch, and you vaguely realized that part of the reason your hands were shaking was because you hadn’t eaten since your piece of toast this morning for breakfast. You open a cupboard door, but as soon as your eyes land on the coffee mugs, your heart races as you hear it again: One scapegoat. You trusted that particular coworker about as far as you could throw him, and the two of you had been at odds constantly lately. I wouldn’t put anything past him, you think, and your stomach lurches. You shut the cupboard and head for the sink. Sick of hearing your own thoughts, you turn on the TV after you’d finished the dishes and settle in to fold some laundry, trying not to think about the gaping hole of worry eating its way through your stomach. I just have to do the best, you think. I have to be the best member of the team. Then I’m untouchable. Halfway through the basket of laundry, you hear the door unlock. Yoongi comes in, looking slightly disheveled though his frown fades at the sight of you. “Hi sweetheart,” he says quietly, lining his shoes up next to yours carefully. “Here, I’ll finish that. I meant to do it last night.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head and joins you on the floor, reaching for the shirt in your hands. His presence washes over you and you take a truly deep breath. “It’s okay,” you say, tipping your head over to rest on his shoulder. “How was your day?” He sighs, and there’s so much in that simple sound that you forget all about your terrible day and turn to look at him. “What’s going on?” you ask softly, reaching up to smooth a strand of his hair back. “Long day. Taehyungie’s having a hard time lately, Jimin’s back is giving him problems…Namjoon has a bad case of writer’s block and we still need 4 more songs to even make a mini-album.” He folds the shirt and stacks it carefully on top of the others, then reaches for another. “We’re not sure if we can make the Australian tour happen.” “Oh no,” you sympathize. “How come?” “Venue availability, travel….basically everything.” He pauses in between shirts to rub his forehead tiredly. You kiss his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know how important that tour is to you guys. I’m sure something will work out!” The laundry now finished, he sighs again and sits back against the couch. Reaching out to pull you into his arms, he kisses your temple. “We’re going to figure it out,” he agrees. “But I’m going to be working a lot these next few days. Probably into the weekend,” he adds, waiting for your reaction. You cuddle against him. “It’s okay, baby. Do what you need to do.” “I love you,” he says softly, tipping your chin up so he can kiss you. “How was your day? Have you eaten already?” The question knocks the wind from you. “Oh. It was fine. I…I already ate, yeah. Sorry.” You push out of his arms so he can’t feel the way your heart races at the lie. “Do you want me to make something?” “Nope.” He gets to his feet. “We still have leftovers from last night. I’ll just have those. What did you have?” You stack the folded laundry back in the basket and ignore the question. “I forgot about the leftovers. Hope they still taste good.” “There’s a lot left,” he calls from the kitchen. “I’ll pack some up and you can take it for lunch tomorrow.” You feel your stomach squirm. “Thanks.” You push the laundry basket back into the corner and cross your arms over your stomach, watching him as he moved around the kitchen, reheating his leftovers and packing yours for lunch tomorrow. Tomorrow. You think of your boss’ anger, the work left to do, your coworker’s sinister intent……Your hands go cold. Yoongi brings his food into the living room, sitting on the couch and gesturing to the spot next to him. Some of the feeling returns to your fingers as you climb up next to him, curling up close and resting your head on his shoulder. “Next week,” he says in-between bites. “We’re going to have date night every night for the whole week.” You smile, grateful for the way his presence and words melt your icy worry. “That sounds amazing.” “I mean it,” he insists around a mouth full of food. “Every night. We’ll go to that movie, get dinner at all of our favorite places, stay home and finish our show, go for a drive…anything we want to do. Anything you want to do.” Turning your head to kiss his shoulder again, you say quietly, “I love you, Yoongi.” He finishes eating quickly, hopping up to rinse his dish off and returning to you quickly. Through a yawn, he asks, “Are you ready for bed?” With your mind so full of worry, you hadn’t been looking forward to a whole night of tossing and turning, but when he extends his hand to you, you realize everything would be okay. Putting your hand in his, you nod. “Yes.” When you’re both settled in bed, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest. Leaning down to kiss your neck, he rests his head against yours gently. “So I’m thinking one night we get burgers,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. “Pizza for our Netflix night…” “Mmm.” You close your eyes, letting his soothing voice lull you into a calm. “We definitely need to do sushi one night.” “Agreed. For our big fancy date night, let’s go to that nice restaurant with the giant steaks!” You can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Whatever you want to do. I just want to spend time with you.” He hugs you close. “I love you, sweetheart. Sleep tight, okay?” And with him there to keep you safe and push the worries away, you actually do.

The next morning, you hear him get up extra early, but you’re too exhausted to stir. Before he leaves, he kisses your forehead gently. “Have a good day, sweetheart,” he whispers, and then he’s gone. Your alarm goes off at the usual time, but when you pull your phone to you, you see a screen full of texts. Feeling your stomach lurch, you scan through them: 11 of them are from your coworkers, already panicked about the project. 1 of them is from your bank, reminding you that your payment for student loans was due next week. You set your phone down, heart pounding, and try not to panic. You wish Yoongi were still home. But he was already gone, so you roll out of bed, get ready as quickly as possible, and force yourself to answer a few texts as you head to the kitchen for breakfast. After a little bit of coordination, you and two of your coworkers have a plan for the day—the third one (the problematic one) hadn’t responded yet. Just as you open your fridge to hunt for some food, you get a private message from your closest coworker: Watch out for SJ, she wrote. I’ve heard he was talking about you the other day during lunch. Your stomach flips. I knew it. You shut the fridge hard, ignoring the ache in your guts. Pulling on your coat, you grab your bag and take a small breath. You wouldn’t let him get you today. As you leave the house, you pull out your phone and send Yoongi a text: Is it just me, or is this the most Monday-feeling Tuesday ever??? You’re about to tuck the phone back into your pocket when it buzzes. Eagerly awaiting your boyfriend’s message, you look at the screen expectantly— And find another text from your coworkers. It brings you back to earth immediately. Your stomach is in knots all the way to the office.

“Just as long as her name is on it,” your coworker says dramatically, his voice clearly too loud to be a whisper. Steeling yourself, you look up from your computer. “My name is on what?” “Section 5,” he says unabashedly. “What’s wrong with section 5?” He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?” “Stop being such an ass,” Coworker #2 interrupts, rolling his eyes. “What’s the problem?” The Problem sighs. “Section 5 is the epitome of what was wrong with the last proposal.” “According to who?” Your hands are balled into fists in your lap, hidden away from sight. “The boss, obviously.” “Oh, he told you that? Personally?” You stand your ground. “Last I knew, he didn’t even remember your name.” His cheeks flush. “It was obvious. So I just want to make sure that your name is on it, so he knows who to credit when this falls apart.” “It’s not going to fall apart!” interjects Coworker #3, smoothing her frazzled hair back into a ponytail. “Don’t even put that into the universe!” “You’re welcome to re-work it,” says Coworker #2. “You clearly have the time,” you add coolly. The Problem doesn’t answer, pretending to suddenly be preoccupied with something on his phone. The tenuous silence returns. The four of you work until lunch time—until 5 minutes before official lunch time, actually, because if you had to spend even 5 more minutes in the same room as him, you were going to murder someone—and as you put your laptop to sleep, you realize how hungry you are. “Here,” Coworker #2 drops a packet of pretzels on your desk. “You like these, right?” You nod. “Thanks.” He gives a faint smile, reaching his arms above his head in a huge stretch. “Don’t let him get to you,” he adds, jerking his head towards the door after The Problem. “He sees you as a threat because you are the most competent person in the whole department.” You smile. “I’m trying. But this is just more motivation to get this project sorted—then I can go back to ignoring his existence.” Coworker #2 laughs and reaches out to fist-bump you. “Amen,” he agrees, then grabs his empty-coffee mug off the table and leaves. Feeling a little lighter now that the you have the room to yourself, you open the packet of pretzels as your stomach growls. You manage to eat 7 before your phone goes off. Coworker #3: SJ’s going to eat lunch with the Exec Crew today. Such a suck-up. You set the packet of pretzels down and reply: Is the boss going? Coworker #3: Of course. He’s probably going to offer to pay and everything. The weight settles over your shoulders again. You remember the disgust in his eyes, the thinly veiled threats about your job—”And now he has the perfect opportunity,” you whisper to yourself. “He really is going to do whatever he can to get me fired.” As if the universe had heard you, your phone buzzes with another text: it’s an alert from your bank, reminding you about the bills coming up soon. I can’t lose my job, you think, feeling the panic rush through your entire body. Ignoring the reminder, you open Yoongi’s text thread. Any chance you’ll be done with work early today?? It joins your last still-unopened message. You stare at your phone for a full minute, hoping to see his return text as it comes in. It doesn’t. You think about the leftovers sitting in the fridge in the break room and your stomach flips. Pushing the half-empty packet of pretzels away from you, you reboot your laptop. “I have to work harder.”

You sink into the last empty bus seat, closing your eyes against the pain thundering through your head. It’s 79 minutes past quitting time and you hadn’t even had a chance to look at your phone since lunchtime. You pry your eyes open and fish for your phone, taking a small breath before unlocking it. Three messages from Coworker #3, four from Coworker #2, and one sarcastic one-liner from The Problem. The pounding in your head increases. 32. From the time your team resumed its work after lunch until you had all finally left the building, The Problem had made 32 pointed comments towards you. “You don’t even have seniority, you know that, right?” “We talked about the project at lunch. What a shame you weren’t there.” “Last quarter’s numbers weren’t ideal, that’s what he told me. There’s a lot of dead weight in the company, especially in our department. Especially on our team.” Rubbing the back of your neck tiredly, you leave the text thread without replying and open the next new message. It’s another bank reminder: the deadline on your payment was coming a lot sooner than you remembered. How did it get to this point? You stare out the window blankly. I used to love my job. What did I ever do to get this target on my back? You open your phone again, navigating to your text-thread with your boyfriend. He still hasn’t read either of your earlier messages. You must be busy today. Still no answer. You turn back to look out the window, ignoring the pain in your head and stomach. After almost missing your stop, you trudge towards your apartment, your mind too full to pay attention to anything else. They talked about things at lunch. They must have talked about ME at lunch. He’s going to get me fired. You bump into someone and don’t bother apologizing. He is actually actively working to get rid of me. Why? Fumbling for your phone again, you send a private message to Coworker #3: What does SJ gain by getting me fired?? Her return message comes as you are unlocking your door. You force yourself to get inside and out of your shoes and coat before looking at it. Coworker #3: You’re obviously the biggest threat in the department. You know he’s looking for a fast-track promotion. If he can get rid of you, that’s one less hurdle he’ll have to jump. You okay? He was such an asshole today. Dropping your bag on the floor angrily, you move to the kitchen, hunting for the bottle of aspirin. Everyday* you correct. But he’s crazy. If our project tanks, he’ll go down with it. You down three tablets without water. Coworker #3: He thinks he can weasel his way out of it, obviously. Coworker #3: But anyway, don’t worry about it. We’re going to be fine. You doing okay? Did you even get a chance to eat lunch today??? You pause at this, setting your phone on the counter to pull open the fridge. Leftovers, milk, fruit, vegetables, eggs, kimchi, yogurt…You feel a pain in your stomach and can’t decide if it’s hunger or something else. Your gaze un-focuses as you stare, and suddenly all you can see are bills and numbers. The pain in your stomach grows and you slam the fridge shut. I can’t lose this job. I have too many bills to pay. If I get fired, I’m going to be so far behind on every single payment. I CAN’T lose this job. The buzz from your phone causes an immediate anxious reaction to jolt through your whole body: your chest feels tight, your heart starts pounding, the pain in your head feels blinding, your stomach flips. Forcing a deep breath, you slowly reach for the device again. The knot in your stomach immediately untangles as soon as you see the name on the message. Exhaling roughly, you open Yoongi’s message eagerly. Yoongi Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry ~ so busy today. And I’m going to be home late tonight. :( Your relief fades quickly. YoongiAre you okay? How was your day? Glancing at the time, you feel the knot retie with a vengeance. When your boyfriend said “late,” he meant late. “He won’t be back before midnight,” you whisper to yourself. The apartment gets a little smaller around you. Trying to push the darkness away, you ignore his questions: I love you. Be safe! Locking the screen, you turn back to the fridge. Holding the device close to your chest, you stare at the door. Replaying the images of what the fridge held, you tried to convince yourself to eat one of them—but with each mental picture, the knot grew tighter and you felt like you were going to throw up. Turning away from the fridge explosively, you wandered into the living room. You realized suddenly how much you’d been relying on Yoongi’s presence to help ease the current of tension that was flowing nonstop through your entire body. Now, faced with the prospect of hours without him, you had nothing to distract you but the fear. You watch Netflix (the volume up loud in an attempt to drown out your own thoughts) and play mindless phone games until 11:15pm. Your entire body aches with exhaustion and stress, but you still spend five more minutes staring at the front door in vain, waiting for him to come back. Eventually, you get slowly to your feet and trudge down the hall to the bedroom. You spend extra time washing your face, delaying the inevitable, but when you finally crawl into bed you’re exactly as distraught as you had expected. Not even the white noise machine can help you tonight. You toss and turn for hours, watching the clock on your nightstand tick past midnight. Every time you close your eyes, you’re bombarded with visions of bills and loans and banks and evil coworkers and your angry boss. You see papers stamped with bright red lettering: TERMINATED. The Problem’s words echo constantly. You manage to fall into a light, troubled sleep, and find yourself stuck in the dream-version of the day’s lunch. At the exact moment that your Dream-Boss and Dream-The-Problem turn to you in unison and say “YOU’RE FIRED” you startle awake. Glancing at the clock, you realize it’s 2am and you’re still alone. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you feel the hot tears build underneath your eyelids and fight down the urge to call him. You struggle for another 20 minutes before sleep finally takes you. Five minutes after you pass out, he comes home.

The next morning, you startle awake at the sound of your alarm. Scrambling to turn it off, you realize that you can’t move easily. The panic eventually gives way to relief: you’re tangled in Yoongi’s arms, wrapped tight in his hug. Carefully, you manage to reach out an arm to shut off the alarm, then shift gingerly so you’re facing him. He stirs a little, his embrace tightening reflexively, and you give-in: burying your face in his chest, you give yourself the 10 snooze minutes. Now that you’re wrapped in his arms, all the things that had kept you awake seemed distant and tiny. For the first time in the last 24 hours, you feel the pain in your stomach fade. But too soon, your snooze alarm goes off. It’s time. Taking one last deep breath in his circle of safety, you gently untangle yourself from his grasp, unable to keep the faint smile off your face at his sleep-mumbled complaint. What I’d give to be able to stay right here, all day. But… I need this job. I’ve got to fight. So instead, you gently stroke his hair until he falls back into his deep-slumber. Realizing how late he must have gotten home, you fight down a pang of disappointment: he’d be asleep for a few hours more. Just what he needed, definitely, but you would be long gone by then. Pulling yourself together, you manage to get ready quietly and quickly, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead. You plant a soft kiss on Yoongi’s forehead before you go, drawing a last bit of strength before heading out to face your dragons.

10:00am. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket but ignore it. You’re sitting sandwiched between Coworkers #2 and #3, The Problem on the far end. The boss hasn’t spoken for the last 5 minutes. Finally, he sighs. “I’ve come to expect much more from this department,” he says, meeting your eyes seriously. “This new proposal…it’s better. But is it really what it ought to be?” The Problem jumps in before you can even blink. “No, sir, I completely agree. It’s not up to standards. It—” “I think it can be fixed,” your boss continues, speaking over the other man easily. He meets your eyes again. “But it is going to take a lot of work. For example, the proposed direction in Section 4 seems a bit messy.” The Problem is nodding. “Team Leader was in charge of that section.” Coworker #2 stiffens next to you. “No, she wasn’t,” he snaps. “I-I mean,” the flush creeps up his neck. “Sir, our team worked together on each section and each proposal. Of course.” You don’t look over at The Problem. This is exactly what you had been expecting. “Of course, of course,” The Problem simpers. “But, obviously, we follow the direction of our project manager, don’t we, sir?” Your boss raises one eyebrow at you. “Well?” “We all worked together on this proposal, sir,” you say calmly, though your insides are twisting together again. “And, obviously, no part would have gone through without full consent from the entire team. Right?” you direct the question to The Problem, but don’t bother looking at him. He clears his throat. “We follow your inspiration, team leader.” You hear Coworker #3 hiss under her breath next to you. Your boss is studying The Problem carefully. Finally, he looks back at his tablet screen. “Sections 4, 7, and 10 all need some re-working. Can you have it done by tomorrow?” The tiny bit of satisfaction you felt at realizing none of those sections had been your assigned responsibility bleeds away at the deadline. Tomorrow?? Your head aches. After a moment, you realize he’s waiting for you to respond. “Absolutely, sir,” you agree steadily. “We will work hard.” “I expect nothing less,” he agrees. “Make sure it is as streamlined as possible. We want no further problems going forward.” “Yes, sir,” the three of you parrot together; The Problem’s answer is more drawn-out and sickeningly sweet. You don’t look at him as the four of you leave your boss’ office.

7pm. 2 hours past quitting time and the four of you were still holed-up in the conference room together. The Problem gets to his feet loudly, heading for the door. “Where are you going?” demands Coworker #2; his hair is messy and out of place, his glasses slightly askew. “Smoke-break,” he answers. “Can’t be in this room for one second longer.” He lets the door slam shut behind him. Coworker #3 rolls her shoulders out. “Funny,” she says darkly. “If he was in this room for one second longer, I think I’d rip his stupid little head off.” Coworker #2 turns to you. “I don’t know how you managed to keep your cool all day today, honestly. I wanted to punch him in the mouth 3 times in that meeting alone.” You sigh and sit back in your chair. The atmosphere in the room had changed as soon as The Problem had left. “I just want to finish this project,” you say honestly. I have to be the best possible, so there’s no room for judgment or complaint. “The sooner it ends, the sooner we can get away from him.” “I know where he parks his car,” Coworker #3 offers helpfully. “It would be such a shame if his tires got slashed somehow…” You share a small grin with her; a grin that fades as you realize how long it’d been since you smiled. The muscles in your face ached from the simple gesture. “Here,” Coworker #2 plops another bag of mini pretzels in front of you. “Snack break! Better eat now before he comes back and turns all our stomachs…” You scoff humorlessly. Staring at the bag of snacks, you feel your stomach twist. The last thing you wanted to do was eat anything right now, but then you calculate how long it had been since you’d eaten anything. Oh. That’s probably not healthy. Opening the bag, you pretend not to notice how much your hands are shaking. I need to eat a little, you convince yourself. Every part of you is tired and aching. How much longer can I go on like this? Until this is over, your stubborn side kicks in. Until the danger is passed. Until you know your job is safe. Suck it up. You manage to eat ¾ of the bag before The Problem returns and, just as your coworkers predicted, as soon as he’s back in the room you’re no longer hungry. Pushing the pretzels away angrily, the four of you return to silent, tense work for another 2 hours.

You climb into bed at 10pm that night, too exhausted to be kept up by worries. By tomorrow it’ll be all over. You vaguely wonder if you should be more worried about how much the dark edges around your vision are growing. The last thing you feel before falling into a dreamless sleep is how much your stomach hurts. You’re startled awake at 12:03am. “Sorry, sweetheart,” you hear Yoongi’s voice permeate the darkness. Seconds later, you feel his arms wrap around you. You roll over immediately, snuggling against his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says hoarsely, pulling the blanket higher up over you. “I’m so sorry.” You shake your head. “Are you okay?” He sighs, a heavy and weary sound that goes straight to your heart. “I’m fine.” “Liar,” you accuse gently, hugging him a little tighter. “What’s going on?” “Just busy. We’re working hard. Same as usual…” You press a kiss to his collarbone. “I know. You need to get some rest.” He crushes you closer. “I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry I woke you up. You must be exhausted, too. Let’s get some rest, both of us, yeah?” “Okay,” you breathe, already feeling your eyelids growing heavy again. “Goodnight, baby.” He spreads a few soft kisses across your face. “Goodnight, my darling girl.”

The next morning, your alarms go off at the same time and you struggle awake together. You’re both moving too slow, so you’re almost late, but he still insists on driving you to work that day. On the way over, you don’t talk much, but he holds your hand over the center console like usual and that keeps you steady. When he pulls up in front of your building, you lean over to give him a kiss. “Have a good day, Yoongi,” you say, but your attention is already on what awaits you inside. “You too, sweetheart,” he says, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. Studying you, he frowns a little. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little pale—” You power-up a false smile. “Don’t worry. I love you!” You press another kiss to his cheek and escape under this pretense. When you get out of the car, he reaches to roll your window down to call after you, but just then his phone buzzes so he abandons the idea and answers as he pulls away. You don’t turn around to watch him go, but your heart still flips when you hear the car leave. Staring up at your office building, you feel a sudden rush of dizziness and have to shut your eyes for a moment until it passes. The last day, you remind yourself. I need this job, I need this job, I need this job. You walk into the office and see Coworkers #2 and #3 sitting at their desks already. #2 is on the phone, but he gives you a bright smile as you walk past. “Hey! Are you—” Coworker #3′s voice falters as you move past her seat. “Whoa, are you okay?” You hesitate only slightly. “What?” She’s frowning. “You look really pale,” she says, lowering her voice slightly. “And have you lost weight?? You—” “I’m fine.” You feel the tips of your ears burn: if The Problem heard talk like this, it would be yet another way he could take you down. “Just tired.” “Are you sure? If—” “Positive,” you cut her off again. “Thanks. Plus, today’s the day, right? After this, things will be better.” Your stomach aches at the reminder. I can’t fail. “We better get to work!” You attempt cheerfulness and fail miserably. Coworker #3 gives you a furtive look, but doesn’t bring it up again. The Problem walks in exactly on time, sighing dramatically before flopping into his chair. Leaning back in his chair, he looks around the room, his gaze landing on you. “Well, here we are. I hope everyone is confident in their individual work…?” He lets it hang in the air. Coworker #2 sets the phone down too hard, already irritated. “I’m sure we’re all confident in both our personal AND our group work. Right?” He stares at The Problem until the other man is forced to look away from you. He pastes a sickening smile on his face. “Of course.” “Then let’s get started,” you say, trying to keep your voice devoid of any emotion. “We’ve only got 8 hours left.”

Hour 1: The four of you work in silence. The Problem gets up twice to refill his coffee, making much more noise than is necessary. You get another text from your bank. Hour 2: A portion of Coworker #2′s work didn’t save correctly. The ensuing meltdown leaves you frazzled and The Problem gleeful. Hour 3: The Problem sneaks away and is later found chatting in the staff room by Coworker #3. She doesn’t tell you everything he was saying, but the pit in your stomach knows well enough. Hour 4: You make sure everyone triple saves their work as lunchtime nears. The Problem goes on another secret mission but returns deflated: the bosses are having a private lunch and he was not allowed to join. The secret satisfaction you feel at this fades as he critically looks over one portion of your work. You skip lunch to continue working. Hour 5: Somehow, The Problem’s attitude has gotten even worse since lunch. He snarks and sneers and reluctantly helps Coworker #3 on their joint section. While they’re bickering, Coworker #2 sends you a file: it’s a list of incidents and complaints that he’s preparing to send to the boss and HR. You manage a tiny, real smile. Hour 6: The Problem finally directly challenges you on a portion of the project that you’ve worked on. Backed by both of your other coworkers, the three of you manage to shout him down. He works half-heartedly on his assigned portion. Hour 7: Your stomach hurts so much. Every time you take a small break from the work in front of you, it feels like it’s going to swallow you whole. You force yourself to drink some water, but it sloshes too uncomfortably in your empty stomach. Your head aches and you feel unbelievably tired. Almost there… Hour 8: Fifteen minutes before the deadline, you save, double-save, triple-save, and back-up the project to 3 different locations. “It’s finished,” Coworker #2 says, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes violently. “I guess,” scoffs The Problem, getting to his feet. He locks eyes with you. “Hope you feel good about it, Team Leader.” Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and heads for the door. “See you guys in there. I’ve got something to do.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Coworker #2 add something to his list. “Ignore him,” Coworker #3 encourages; she clearly is still very worried about you. “It’s going to be fine. I think we’ve done some good work here.”

The walk from your shared office space to the boss’ office isn’t very far, but by the end of it, your legs feel like jelly, your heart is pounding, you’re short of breath, and your head is screaming. You sink into the nearest chair, trying to convince yourself that you were fine. Your stomach aches. The meeting is short. The Problem tries 3 times to throw you under the bus, but at this point, you and your other two coworkers are prepared and unified. By the end, even your boss seems irritated with The Problem—at least, you think that’s what is happening. You can’t really be sure anymore, to be honest: your vision is going slightly blurry, the dark edges growing, and you feel incredibly light-headed. 45 minutes past usual quitting time, your boss gives you a solemn nod. “Well done,” he says seriously. “This project is much better and more what I was expecting. Thank you.” The relief washes over you and you feel weak. “Well done, Team Leader,” your boss adds, then gives Coworkers #2 and #3 a smile. “Now go home and get some rest.” It might be your current physical state, but you swear he gives The Problem a slightly disapproving look. It must be real, because The Problem is the first to leave, disappearing without another look at any of you. Somewhat numb, you get to your feet with the other two, following them out of the office. As soon as the three of you are out of sight of the boss’ office, Coworker #2 gathers both of you into a giant hug. “We did it!!!! Oh man!” He releases you with a huge exhale. “We should celebrate! Dinner? Drinks? Meat??” Coworker #3 gives him a look, then tilts her head towards you meaningfully. “I think I’m just going to take our brilliant Team Leader home.” He turns to look at you, and even in your fuzzy state you can see the look of concern that crosses his face. “Oh, right. Yeah. Let’s get some rest tonight. We can celebrate tomorrow!” You manage a smile. “Sounds good. G-good job you guys.” Coworker #3 loops her arm through yours securely. “It’s all because of you, oh fearless leader!” she quips. “Let’s go!” Sitting in the passenger seat of her car, you try to relax; the last thing you wanted was for her to have to walk you up to your apartment door. So you fake a brighter smile, thank her for the ride, and hop out before she can offer to help. You turn to wave as she drives away, gritting your teeth against the way your head starts spinning, but wait until she’s gone before you move. I did it. You think as you slowly climb the stairs. I made it. I’m not going to get fired. Things are going to be okay. Your stomach flips and you have to pause for a second: Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up. You wait until the feeling passes. I just need to get inside. Lie down for a while….maybe…maybe eat? The house will be cool and empty and calm. Empty. You realize you hadn’t texted Yoongi all day. Now that things were over, you could finally relax around him, tell him the truth. You stumble on the last step, nearly face-planting but saving yourself at the last second. Just need to…lie….down. You punch in the door code, push it open, step inside—and are startled to see Yoongi sitting on the couch. “Baby—” he gets to his feet, a smile on his face, but it disappears when he sees you. The surprise is too much for your already-battered body. You try to step towards him and everything goes dark.

Fortunately for you, he was already moving towards you when you crumpled; he managed to catch you before you hit the floor, cradling you carefully against him in a state of controlled panic. You wake up as the EMTs are loading you into the ambulance, and the only thing that stops you from freaking out is the sound of his voice. “I don’t think she’s eaten for a while,” he’s saying as he climbs in next to you. “She’s overworked, overtired—Maybe dehydrated? I don’t—” “It’s okay, sir,” one of the medics says. She gives him a small smile. “She’s going to be fine.” “Yoongi…” you mumble, his name getting lost in the oxygen mask over your face, but at that moment he turns to look at you anyway. Exhaling in relief, he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he reassures you, brushing your hair away from your face. “I’m here.” Something about the combination of your complete exhaustion, the motion of the ambulance, the oxygen mask, and the warmth of Yoongi’s presence lulls you into a light sleep. There’s a transfer from the ambulance to the emergency room, from gurney to hospital bed. There’s several people in scrubs and masks that look you over. You vaguely feel the prick of the IV in your arm. You’re asked a lot of questions and you give a lot of answers you can’t remember, but eventually, you’re left alone. Almost. Taking your hand, Yoongi leans down to kiss your forehead again. “You’re going to be okay,” he says softly against your skin. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” You shake your head weakly. “You don’t have to apologize. I—” “You’re extremely dehydrated,” he cuts over you, tightening his hold on your hand. “I don’t think you’ve slept well for days. And you…you said you hadn’t eaten for—since Monday?? Sweetheart, I….” he’s getting worked up. You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Exhaling shakily, he meets your eyes. “Why?” “Well—” you suddenly look at him. “Wait. Don’t you need to be at work right now? What about the tour problems? And Tae? And Jimin’s back. And—” “Stop.” He finally pulls a chair close to the bed and sits. “I only need to be here right now. With you. This is where I should have been for the last few days, then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.” You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” Pressing the back of your knuckles to his lips, he shakes his head and murmurs. “Don’t say sorry. Let’s just talk. Tell me everything.” So you do. You tell him all about the project, The Problem, your boss, your coworkers, the bank notifications, everything. “And I just got so worked up over it,” you finish tiredly. “I didn’t want to talk about it. And then I knew you were busy, so I didn’t want to bother you….and things just got out of control.” He nods slowly. “I should’ve paid better attention,” he says quietly. “We were both too wrapped up in our own things. Never again, I promise you.” He reaches up to brush your hair back again. “I will do better at my job of keeping you safe and healthy and happy, okay? I promise.” You’re too tired to argue so you just nod. Smiling, he reaches up to kiss you softly. “And in return,” he adds, stroking the side of your face, “You have to talk to me. About all the things, all right? Especially the ones that make you worried and want to stop eating. Can you do that?” You nod again. “I think I can manage that.” “Also, you have to promise to do whatever it takes to stay healthy, okay? I can’t live without you,” he smiles. “So it’s your responsibility to take care of the most precious thing on this earth. Understood?” You roll your eyes but fondly. “I love you,” you say quietly. He kisses the tip of your nose. “I love you more. Now, let’s get you some rest so we can go home and snuggle. Okay?” You laugh lightly and agree.

When you’re finally released from the hospital, Yoongi insists on pushing your hospital-mandated wheelchair out to the waiting car. He wraps an arm around your waist and basically carries you to the backseat, helping you in before shutting the door behind you both securely. He holds you close on the ride on home; you rest your head on his shoulder gratefully. The babying continues when you arrive back at the apartment: he scoops you into his arms and carries you all the way up to your place, commenting in a displeased voice: “You’re too light, babygirl. You need to stay healthy.” You give his neck a squeeze. “Whatever you say,” you agree, resting your head against his shoulder. At his light scoff-laugh, you smile. “I’m just trying to live up to my promises!” “Sure, sure.” As soon as you reach the apartment, he takes you straight to bed, settling you in your spot and tucking the blanket around you securely. Kissing your cheek, he says, “Now. What do you want to eat? Anything you want, baby.” “Um….” you pretend to think hard. “Maybe…kimbap? BBQ? Pizza? Soup?” At his humored expression, you grin. “Everything sounds good!” “Then everything,” he says, kissing your lips softly, “is what you shall have.” While you both wait for the food to arrive, he never leaves your side. You cuddle against him, watching mindless TV and drinking from the water bottles he keeps pressing into your hands until he’s satisfied. He insists on feeding you the first few bites of food until you finally rebel, accepting his kiss happily instead. The two of you eat in relative silence, and you realize just how hungry you are. Tipping your head over onto his shoulder, you say softly, “I’m sorry I worried you.” He turns slightly to kiss your temple again. “You’re safe, sweetheart. That’s all that matters.” At that moment, your phone goes off. Your knee-jerk reaction is panic, but it immediately fades as you remember that everything is over and Yoongi is there next to you. Still, you take a small breath before reading the screen. The smile spreads across your face slowly. Yoongi glances at you. “What is it?” You turn the screen towards him: Coworker #3: YOU GUYS. SJ just got transferred to another department!!!!!! He can never bug us again!!!!!!!!! Yoongi grins with you. “That’s great news.” He kisses you again. “See? Everything is going to be fine.” “You’re right.” He clears the almost-empty food containers off the bed and when he climbs back in, you snuggle into his side automatically. He wraps his arms around you and presses a few soft kisses all over your face. “I love you so much,” he says in between kisses. “I’m so proud of you. You did it.” “Yes,” you agree, feeling your eyes close all on their own. I did.

#Anonymous #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts clean imagines #non-smut #BTS #REQUESTS #ASKS #apriori sea imagines #apriori sea requests #bts imagine yoongi #yoongi #suga

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letsbenditlikebennett · 3 years

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Drawing Daisies, Pushing Daisies || Ariana & Luce

TIMING: January 8th PARTIES: @divineluce & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Luce gives Ariana yet another memorial tattoo and some secrets come to light. CONTENT: Some mentions of grief and the situation with Lydia (domestic abuse/promise binds), use of needles in relation to tattoos.

When she had first gotten the tattoo of wildflowers on her arm in honor of Celeste, Ariana hadn’t planned on her arm becoming a memorial. As it stood, she kept losing people she loved and wanted to carry them with her. Wanted to make sure she never forgot them and the lessons they taught her. One of these days, she was just going to get a completely silly tattoo. Today was not that day, but it was nice to dream. She walked into the familiar tattoo shop and waved as she spotted Luce at her station. It looked like she was mostly set up and ready to go even if Ari was running a few minutes early. She always enjoyed glancing at the art on the wall as she was in the shop. There was some new floral work up at Luce’s station that she looked at for a moment before taking her place by Luce. “Hey,” she said, “As always, thanks for drawing up something so great. I promise my next tattoo is going to be silly and not a memorial piece.” Her hand flew over her mouth as she realized her error, “I really need to not use that fucking word.”

Ariana wasn’t someone that Luce would claim to know well, but she knew that the girl had been through some shit. Fuck, the wildflowers on her arm were proof enough of that. So, when Luce had gotten the email about drawing up a new design, she’d been happy to do it. Art had the power to help people and so did tattoos, even if boomers liked bitching about how they were destroying common decency. If a back tattoo of Post Malone sparked joy, fuck, she’d do it. Which, thankfully, that wasn’t the case. No, she’d requested something with flowers and an old vinyl record, which had been a simple enough design that Luce could fit to match the girl’s pre-existing tattoos. “Yeah, for sure--” Luce started to say before her eyes widened. Glancing to the open door of her room, Luce walked over and shut the door, giving the two of them some privacy. “Memorial piece, huh?” She said cautiously as she went back to her desk, pulling the stencils she’d printed out for Ariana to look at. “I’m sorry to hear that… you lost someone.” Another someone.

With the door closed, it dawned on Ariana that she could talk more freely. Not that she really had any true scope of what human hearing could truly pick up over the music playing in the shop. It wasn’t like she had a point of reference. Maybe she’d ask Luis one of these days when he was a little more in tune with who and what he was now. For now, she focused on Luce and the stencils she was pulling out. “Yeah,” she said as nonchalantly as she could, “As the okay DJ Khalid would say, another one.” Nope, that felt wrong. Was she really getting to a point where she joked about the darker things in life? “That was a bad joke.” She shook her head and instead explained, “Remember the article about that one bitch in the paper? Whole horror house thing. Well, this one and the bat one are courtesy of that bitch.” She wasn’t even sure her name deserved to be spoken. That bitch seemed to sufficiently cover things anyway. She glanced over the stencils and pointed to the one she liked best. Though her sense of color was off, the yellow in the daisy seemed to be the brightest. Just like Todd had been. “Thanks,” she said softly, “It is what is. But I like that one.” She pointed to her favorite.

As the girl let out a wry, bitter joke, Luce did her best not to react. Everyone dealt with grief in their own ways. She knew that better than most. Her encounter with the tree dude in the forest was a reminder of that. He’d seen what she’d done in her rage and grief. Pulling out one of her trays, she busied herself pouring out some ink. At the mention of that bitch in the paper, with the horror house-- Luce’s hand slipped, black ink bottle spilling onto the silver tray. “Shit!” She swore, swiftly capping the bottle and grabbing some paper towels to wipe up the ink. Lydia. Lydia. She was talking about Lydia. “How do you know about Lydia?” Luce asked cautiously, still tentative about saying the woman’s name. She’d felt the Fae promise burn in the back of her throat before and, even though she knew it was long gone, there was still a part of her that shied away at the idea of saying the woman’s name aloud. “I, uh… Yeah. It’s a good one. I think it’s my favorite out of the bunch. They symbolize purity, innocence.” She said before biting her cheek. “Was your friend… were they in that house?”

The sound of ink falling to the tray made Ariana flinch slightly. It only slightly startled her. More than anything, she was perplexed. Her head tilted and she looked at Luce curiously waiting for an explanation only to be met with a question. “Wait, how do you know about Lydia?” It was safe to say she was a pretty big part of Lydia’s crimes coming to light and ultimately Lydia’s death though she didn’t wield the knife herself. “Lydia and I… well, there’s a lot there. Mostly her murdering my friends and binding me into something that would have inevitably killed me and a bunch of other people had Kaden not saved my ass. Then I was the “unidentified teen” in that article.” Her fingers did air quotes as she said the unidentified teen. She was unsure if she should mention the whole getting Lydia killed thing. While she knew Nell would understand, but she had no idea where Luce stood on being a murder accomplice… even if said murdered person was actual trash. “My friend was definitely that.” Both Todd and Sammy had a very genuine way about them that made her wish she could have shielded them from Lydia. “Three of them were, yeah. Managed to save one of them… and another person, too.”

Luce didn’t want to say it. She should have kept her mouth shut, because of course this would be how the train of thought would go. How did she know Lydia? She couldn’t just tell Ariana that Lydia had… helped them sacrifice a man in the name of vengeance and retribution. Prepping her machine with steadied hands, Luce swallowed. “She had me locked in a promise too. I didn’t know about what she was doing at her house, but I knew that she was capable of some fucking awful things. So.” She paused, glancing down at the stencil as she pressed it against the girl’s skin, leaving an impression on Ariana’s arm. “When someone told me there was trouble, I went to help.” Help. That was a watered down version of the truth. She hadn’t helped anyone. Clearing her throat, Luce nodded, “Shit. I’m sorry… that you lost them.” She said, glancing back to the tattoos that decorated the girl’s arm. This poor fucking kid. Because that’s what she was, a kid. She didn’t deserve this.

Ariana hadn’t thought it was possible to hate Lydia more than she already did, but her having Luce locked into a promise as well seemed to do the trick. Somehow, even in death, she just kept getting worse. Her hands clenched into fists, but as it stood, Lydia couldn’t do this to anyone again. “Bitch,” she mumbled to herself before adding, “Her, not you obviously.” It was the next part that made her have to refrain from tilting her head as Luce placed the stencil on her arm. Help, what did she mean by that? Was she the person Athena had gone to for help while Ariana went with Kaden and Agatha to rescue Chloe, Todd, and Kelly? That had to be what she meant, right? She’d been so caught up in trying to deduce just what she meant by that she barely noticed the cool feel of the stencil on her arm. “Help,” she said slowly, “Did that help happen to be teaming up with a blonde warden?” She didn’t want to totally give Athena’s identity away if that wasn’t the case. She also didn’t want to just assume Luce had been down to help kill Lydia. Not that she judged it. Unless Lydia died, all she was ever going to bring to the world was pain. Then there was yet another apology for all she lost. “Thanks,” she responded instinctively at this point, “It is what it is, but I’m getting by.” And she was. Some days better than others, but it was getting by all the same.

Ripping open a new pack of needles, Luce fitted them into her machine and pulled on a pair of gloves as she settled next to Ariana. The machine buzzed in her hand, the hum familiar and comfortable as she readied herself to begin the tattoo. But, before she pressed the needles to Ariana’s skin, she blinked in surprise at the girl’s words. If she wasn’t holding her machine, she might have flinched at the mention of a blonde warden. But she was a professional. And she wasn’t going to fuck up a tattoo, not even now. Swallowing, Luce glanced at Ariana. “She convinced me to go with her. Well,” She paused and pressed the tip of the machine to the girl’s skin, ink dancing at her fingertips, “I let her talk me into it.” Luce said, not wanting to say anymore. If Ariana knew who Athena was, then she probably knew what Luce’s brand of help had brought about. “Getting by,” Luce echoed with a small laugh. “As someone who’s been getting by for a while, I’m real fucking sorry that you’re in the same boat.”

The buzz of the tattoo machine was slowly becoming familiar to Ariana. It was even becoming comforting in a way. It was gentle on her ears and she grew accustomed to the dull pain that came with it. She could tell her question through Luce for a loop though. Given, it meant she helped kill Lydia and Morgan had mentioned it wasn’t so kind, but she wouldn’t shed any tears over a murdered serial killer. One who’d hurt her and too many people she cared for. So kept her arm still and quietly said, “Thank you. I really didn’t want her going on her own and I had to get my friends out of her house.” Even if it wasn’t entirely successful. It didn’t make her feel any comfort to know Luce had been just getting by too. She knew about Bea and she knew how much losing a sister sucked. Even getting her back, she’d never be able to erase that experience. The feeling of the needle on her arm kept her steady and resolved, if only so she didn’t ruin her own tattoo. “I’m sorry, too. It’s a pretty shitty boat. I’d much prefer one of those all inclusive cruises if I have to be on any boat.” Focus still on keeping still, she softened her features, “I know I’m young, but if you wanted to talk about any of it, I’m a pretty good listener. If you’d rather not, that’s chill, too.”

Thank you. Those weren’t the words Luce wanted to hear, but how was Ariana to know that? She’d killed again and while Lydia was hardly an innocent… that didn’t change the fact that she was someone who posed no real threat to Luce or her family. She would have plagued some other town, some other people. Perhaps Luce had done the right thing getting rid of her. But even if it was, she hadn’t done it for the right reasons. “Are you and her friends? Athena?” Luce asked, the words careful as she focused on her work, making the lines nice and neat. “Yeah, I could do with a fucking cruise right about now.” She said with a nod. Pulling back, she dipped the tip of her machine in the ink and glanced at Ariana’s arm with a gentle but meaningful look. “You’ve got enough of your own stuff to deal with. I’m not going to add to that. But, thanks for the offer.” She said with a nod. “This town… demands a lot from the people who live here. I’m real fucking sorry that you moved here.”

It dawned on Ariana that maybe thank you hadn’t been the right thing to say. Especially when she was able to piece together just what Luce had done to help. She wasn’t sure being thanked for murder was something most were comfortable with. She’d always been a bit impulsive with her words so she decided to gloss over it and acknowledge Luce’s question. “Oh, she’s my girlfriend actually,” Ariana answered, still not quite used to using the word. Talking with Luce and the dull pain that came with the tattoo made it easier for her to sit still, something she normally struggled to do. Even the daydream of a cruise would typically make her want to immediately jump into the ocean for a swim which was decidedly not so safe in White Crest. “I’d say I’d keep an eye out for raffles, but I’m pretty sure all the prizes in this town are also cursed. Fuck, it’d probably be a damn mime cruise.” Her face visibly cringed at the idea. It was okay that Luce didn’t want to talk and she would have shrugged if she hadn’t needed to sit still. “Everyone’s got shit to deal with. Offer still stands if you ever need it… or even just need someone to spar with. Not sure if you’re into that. I know Nell is. I think it helps.” While she knew Luce was right about this town being hard on people, she wasn’t sure she’d take back moving here. Even with all she’d lost, her and Celeste had both gained a lot, too. “I’m not,” she said surely. There wasn’t much she was sure of, but this she was. “As much as I miss Celeste, it was always just the two of us. She never had anyone to really talk to about things and she’d spent so much of her life trying to understand others. Make them feel seen and heard without ever really having that for herself and well, I think she may have found that in one of her friends here. I think maybe she finally got to be understood in ways I never really could.” She thought of Kaden fondly and knew he could relate to Celeste in ways she was never able to. In ways Celeste had deserved. She also knew Celeste wouldn’t want her to feel regretful. Though as much was easier said than done, she was trying. She added, “And I have so many people I love here, too. The loss, the pain-- it all sucks and some days it’s really fucking hard, but there’s still so much good and so many people here I that I love.”

“Your girlfriend.” Luce echoed, doing her best to contain her shock. But it was impossible to keep the note of surprise from her voice. What the fuck was Ariana doing, dating someone like that? Not that… she could talk. Remmy had-- well. They’d never dated. Never really been anything. But, Remmy had been with her and they had been like Ariana. Someone good. Someone trying their best. So, what did that make her, then? “Sorry. I didn’t realize.” She said, hoping that the girl would leave it there. “I’m good.” She wasn’t, not by a long shot. But how could she explain to Ariana that she hated what she’d done? If Ariana was dating Athena, that meant something. And the fact she had wanted Lydia dead just as much as the Hunter meant more.”Thanks for the offer though.” She continued to run the machine along Ariana’s arm, the tip steady and constant as she made thin, precise lines. “It’s good. That you have people. It makes a difference in a place like White Crest.” Luce said because it felt like the right thing to say. She didn’t know. Not really. There were people here she loved, but at every turn, she’d run from them. “But yeah. It’s sure fucking hard here.”

Ariana didn’t think too much of the surprise evident in Luce’s tone. After all, Athena was only just coming out to people and it probably came as a shock to most. She quickly added, “She’s only just starting to like really come out, but yeah, she’s my girlfriend.” Her voice was somewhat proud though the moment of pain that she had to force herself to sit still through got to her for a moment. Man, that soft side of the arm was not fun. Still, the buzzing of the tattoo machine was comforting in its own way. Then Luce said she was good and Ariana frowned slightly. Something in her doubted that, but she didn’t really know Luce well enough to push. “If you’re sure, the offer always stands. You and your sisters have always been good to me so you’re on the list of people I’d eat a mime for,” she cracked a small smile hoping to ease the mood a bit. It was clear Luce didn’t want to talk about things and she respected that, especially as the woman was currently drawing on her with a needle and all. She nodded in agreement, “It does. Makes all the other shit worth it. Not even sure where else I’d go, honestly. Plus, someone has to make sure Blanche eats food that’s not cheese balls.” Luce was right though. It was fucking hard. The last couple of months had given her some room to breathe and process all the grief, but there was still always that underlying fear when someone didn’t text her back right away that they were dead somewhere. “You got that part fucking right. But we’re tough, that’s why we make it here, right?”

Well. If they were dating, that had to mean that Ariana knew what Athena was, right? But, Luce swallowed as she wiped the excess ink away, Remmy had never known all of what Luce had done until it was too late. “I see. Well. Good for her.” Luce said, not really knowing how to reconcile this information. Ariana was a good kid, but Athena? Luce had been there, she’d seen how the girl had acted when they’d… taken care of Lydia. No, not taken care of. Who was she killed? Athena had killed Lydia and had convinced her to take part in it too. That unquestionable fact weighted heavily down upon her-- she’d helped get rid of Lydia. She’d burned her body from the face of the earth, wiped her existence clean. And she hadn’t had the right to do that. She could have lived with the promise she’d made to the Fae woman. But another town, other people, they would have been subjugated to the same horrors Lydia had brought here…

Clearing her throat, Luce focused back in on the conversation. “Trust me, you don’t need to go eating any mimes for me. Wouldn’t want you to go all stripey on me.” She said with an attempt at a grin. “It’s good to hear that Blanche’s got someone like you in her corner. That girl,” Luce said as she began to add in shading, running the machine over Ariana’s skin with a firm hand. “Gets into more than her fair share of trouble. But, I guess the same could be said for all of us.” Mulling over Ariana’s words, Luce shrugged. Months ago, she might have agreed. Being tough was all you needed, putting up a wall, handling things on your own was how you lived in this town. But now? “Sure is.” She said noncommittally. Changing the topic, Luce looked down at the tattoo. “I think we’re just about done with this. Just a bit more shading and we’ll be wrapped up.”

Ariana laughed a bit and refrained from shrugging, “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone all stripey. I know how to fix it now at least.” Humor was one way to look past the alarming parts of turning silent and stripey like a freaking mime. How they managed to do that was beyond Ariana, but she sure as fuck didn’t like it. There was another small laugh in regards to Blanche. Her knack for trouble could be amusing, but more than anything she was worried for her friend as of late. Even when she was striped, she barely even got a laugh out of Blanche. “Oh yeah, she’s a trouble magnet for sure, but like, same here. Maybe the town is just a trouble magnet.” She watched as Luce continued shading in and said they were just about done. A few more jokes were exchanged before Luce did the finishing touches. She looked down at it for a moment. The yellow almost as lively as Todd had once been, the perfect little tribute to the friend she should have been able to save. Something to carry with her every day to remind her to be better for all the Todds of the world. “It’s perfect,” she said softly before following her up to the counter to finalize payment. And it was, even if it left her with a sort of bittersweet feeling.

#wickedswriting #drawing daisies pushing daisies #luce #grief mentions #needles tw #domestic abuse mentions

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dreamingofmilk · 4 years

Text

What's Your Name?

Synopsis: You forgot to change your name at work after you got married. Sam will make sure you never forget again.

Word Count : 2,079

Warnings: smut, cursing

You walked into your home, extremely tired from your long day at work. Your feet hurt from wearing the pumps you knew not to wear, but you had important meetings all day. And you were hungry from skipping lunch, but you had to work through it or you would have gotten nowhere in the endless amount of paperwork your assistant kept handing you from the other directors.

You glanced at the briefcase you held in your right hand and sighed. You should have stayed at the office to finish your work up, but you couldn’t stand the idea of spending another night away from your husband. Especially when he just told you that he got another job out in Atlanta for a new movie he was filming. He was leaving to start filming in a week. You missed Sam way too much when he left for work, but you knew he loved what he did. And he always flew you out whenever he had to be away for long periods of time.

You thought of the nights when you traveled to meet Sam in another city. He’d have you covered in hickies and have you limping the entire visit. You felt so embarrassed when you went out to meet his costars like that and you loved it. You decided to change your clothes before you got to work in the home office, especially since the thoughts of your husband effectively ruined your panties. You loved your husband, the two of you just married about six months ago and it felt like the honeymoon phase was never-ending. Your husband was kind, sweet, supportive, and demanding, and you loved him the way he was. He was very no-nonsense when it came to you, he wanted to ensure that you were always taken care of, just like you took care of him.

When the two of you got married he wanted the world to know who you belonged to and what your new name was. Your voice was hoarse the day after your wedding from screaming Mrs. Wilson over and over again while riding him. Yup. You definitely needed to change your panties.

************************

You poured over the work in front of you. Piles and piles of paperwork were stacked up in front of you. You heard your husband enter your home. His keys jingling in his hands.

“Babe, I’m home.” Sam shouted into the home.

“Okay. I’m in the office.” You responded, your body overly sensitive just knowing your husband was home. You felt a happy vibration soar through you. You wanted to jump up and attack his soft beard and high cheekbones with kisses. But you couldn’t afford any breaks. You needed to get the work done and focus on signing the paperwork, going over reports, and emailing the correct people. It didn’t matter how good your man looked coming in all sweaty from the gym after working out with his trainer.

And damn did he look good.

Sam stood in the doorway watching you work hard. The multitasking you were capable of always turned him on. He licked his lips as he thought of giving you head while you continued to work hard.

“What are you working on today?” Sam approached you slowly, he knew you needed to work but he also knew that he missed you like crazy. And being the newlyweds that you were, he never planned on getting out of the honeymoon phase.

“The new merger. They put me in charge of overseeing the merger of the new company. But I found out today that they plan on firing my assistant, whom I love. They just don’t understand what all Angelique does. She has so much work on her plate that she needs an assistant herself. I threatened to not do the new merger if they fired her, and they told me to hire another assistant to help Angelique and complete the merger paperwork. So I have to find a new assistant on Tuesday. Babe. It's Thursday, I’m so exhausted.”

“You already know my solution.”Sam started the age-old conversation that always turned into a heated argument and from there passionate sex. Which may be his end goal after all.

“Do not start that shit again Wilson. I’m too tired to have this argument with you today. I’m not quitting my job until we are with child. And as much as you tried last week. I checked this morning, I’m still not pregnant.” Your voice was firm, you couldn’t focus on him and your work. As much as Sam praised you for being the best multitasker he knows, he’s a distraction you can’t work around. No matter how hard you tried.

“Alright. It’s just I hate seeing you overwhelmed like this. Especially knowing I can provide for you. And I know! I know.” He uttered before you could cut him off. “I know you can provide for yourself. I’m your husband. I just really like the idea of taking care of you.” Sam smiled and took another step towards you. His eyes caught sight of the truly insurmountable papers on your desk.

A few of the papers held his attention. “Babe?” Sam picked up the piece of paper, staring at it curiously.

You glanced at him annoyance and confusion etched onto your face. “What Sam?”

Sam stared at the paper then bit his bottom lip. He debated saying anything wanting to avoid sounding like a chauvinist. But you knew the type of man he was when you married him.

“Stop biting your lip before I bite it for you.” You joked looking at your husband’s face. The smile falling off your face, you realized immediately that was the wrong thing to say at the moment. Sam bent down, bracing his hands on the armrests of your chair, his lips less than an inch away from yours. He gently placed a few of your papers in your lap. You eyed them warily.

“What’s this about?” Sam’s voice was hard and unmoving. You looked at the line he was pointing at.

“It’s my nam-” You cut yourself off. You realized the mistake that you made. You’d yet to change your name at work. Mainly because the certification that you held required so much work to get your name changed there. But once you did the work to change your maiden name your job would readily change your paperwork for you. But because of legal reasons they could not change your name on the paperwork until the certification commission changed your name.

“Shit Sam, I forgot.” You responded quietly. Sam made it clear that he loved you having his last name and he wanted everyone else to know that he was the one that got you. That you agreed to marry him and take on his name, you were the one he chose to help carry on his name. “I have to call the people and fax over the government papers stating that my name has changed.” You gently scratched at his beard. “I’m sorry baby. It really slipped my mind.

“You forgot?” He asked incredulously. His face scrunched up in confusion. “You forgot what your name was? What it has been for the past 6 months. What it was going to be for the past 2 and a half years?” Sam hadn’t moved an inch from his bent position. His eyes staring unflinchingly into yours. A smile broke out across his face.

“Cool.”

“Cool?” You smiled nervously, your eyes searched his for confirmation that everything was okay.

“Yeah… cool.”

You eyed Sam warily, he never seemed like the type of person to let this go so casually. He always said he was a traditional man, you knew it was a stretch that you still worked.

“Come on.” He stood up and held a hand out to you.

“Where are we going?” You grabbed his hand and allowed him to hoist you up into his arms. His hands tightly grasping at your ass, his strength easily allowing you to be hoisted into the air.

“To remind you what your name is.” Sam pressed your clit against his erection as he made his way to the bedroom. Your eyes flashed wide open in surprise. Your mind flooded with memories of what happened the last time Sam wanted you to know your name. You began to wiggle in Sam’s arms.

“Hold on!” You tried to get out of his hold before he was able to shut the bedroom door. But it was too late. “Wait Sam. I’ll do it on Monday I promise.” You cooed, you gave him puppy dog eyes. Anything to get out of the multiple orgasm session Sam looked to be promising.

“Nah, I think you need a reminder today.” Sam threw you on the bed and took off his shirt. The sight before you menacing and arousing at the same time. “Take it off.” He smiled at you, his head nodding toward his shirt that you wore as pajamas. You hesitated, trying to come up with any reason why you shouldn’t take off your shirt right now.

“I still have work to do before tomorrow babe. Let me finish that up first and then we can play.”

Sam shook his head. “Now.”

You huffed and took off your shirt, you nipples already hard in response to his aggression.

Sam bent down over you, his eyes tracing every bit of your curves. His hands following the contours of your body. He placed soft kisses on your breast causing them to arch further into his lips. His hands readily dip into your panties. His fingers quickly find your clit and begin to rub in a stimulating pattern. Sam smiles down at you as he notices how wet you are, how responsive your body is to him.

You whimper and look away the same moment Sam inserts a finger into your depths, you cry out at the intrusion. Sam slowly starts to pump his index and middle finger into your heat. He kisses you sloppily on your neck, your arms quickly wrap around your body. You moan and lean into him. You feel yourself start to build into something as he continues to slowly torture you.

Your climax approaches soon. You grip his shoulders tightly as he finger fucks you through your rise.

“Fuck Sam.” You whimper against his shoulder. Sam removes his shorts after you come down from your high. His dick thick and hard, the tip already weeping with precum. He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. The sweetness that he shows you at the beginning of sex always fooling you into thinking you might get off easy.

You sighed into his shoulder as his first thrust started to build another orgasm within you. You shudder in response to the soft kiss he places in your neck. He then leans up and braces himself on his elbows, his thrust becoming deeper, sharper, rougher. You barely have time to catch your breath as Sam really begins to fuck you harshly. His eyes never leave yours as you start to pant, you move your hips in time with his.

“What’s your name?” Sam asks as he watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head. He knows you can barely speak at times like this, he was doing this on purpose. You struggled to look into his eyes at this moment. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw how intensely he was looking at you. His thrust never slowed, every pump hitting that spot that only he knew of.

“I asked you a question baby girl.” He licked your jaw lightly. The sensation causing you to tighten around him, only sending the two of you closer to climax. You opened your mouth to respond, only to stutter over your words when he rolled his hips into yours his fingers sliding down to rub your clit.

“Nonono ffair.” You moaned out. You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“I can’t hear you.” Sam smiled a loving smile as he watched you cum on his dick. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your pussy tightening around him as you shook in his arms. A tear escaped as you felt Sam still gently thrusting inside of you.

“Mrs. Sam Wilson.” You say quietly as you rest your head on his hand.

“Good now let’s hear you scream it.” Sam started up his rough thrusts again.

Taglist:

@aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy @marvelmaree

#milkyfics #samwilsonxreader #falconxreader #milkyfic #avengersfanfic #milkymondays #milky fics

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niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian · 4 years

Note

Sonic getting winter clothes for the first tome with Maddie because she isn’t going to let him freeze.

@picklesrgreat22

I’m going to be combining these two asks together since they both take place in winter anyway.

Ok Hoo boy this took a looong time to write. But i hope you guys enjoy it! I'm gonna make this one a sequel to the previous prompt I did since that took place in the fall and this one in the winter~.

This Definitely Beats the Cave.

=======

Cold......

I feel so cold.....

Why is it so cold.....?

I haven’t felt cold this intense since.....

The cave.

The cave was always this cold during this time of year.

But I’m not in the cave anymore....

Right?

Feeling a brisk chill in the room woke Sonic from his dreamless sleep, looking around squinting at the light peeking through his curtains.

“Oh, I’m in my room.” He assured himself as he suddenly shivered as curled his body in.

“Why is it so cold in here?” He thought as he tried to find a warm spot under the covers.

He pulled the thick covers closer to his head and curled up underneath to hide away from the cold and try to go back to sleep until he heard the faint voices of Tom and Maddie coming from the kitchen downstairs.

“Typical Saturday” he thought as he slowly woke from his drowsy state. Tom usually had Saturday’s off while Maddie had to work at the veterinary. Since she was still here, she must’ve taken off as well.

“Tom always makes pancakes his ‘famous’ banana pancakes on Saturday.” He smiled slightly as his ear flicked towards the sound of sizzling from the frying pan downstairs.

It’s weird to think that only 7 months ago, he had his heroic battle with the eccentric scientist, Dr. Eggman or more formally known as Dr. Robotnik, but also with it being 6 1/2 months since the day he was taken in by the Wachowski’s, becoming an official member of their family.

Groaning, Sonic pushed the comforter off him as he quickly grabbed a smaller blanket from the corner of his bed and wrapped it around his tiny body. Making his way to the headboard of his race car bed, he wiped away the fog in his window to look outside.

As he went to look, he squinted his eyes against the morning rays coming through his window.

“Geez why is it so bright out today? It’s only 7:15.”

Rubbing his eyes, he looked out again to see frost patterns on the window and snow.....falling?

“It’s snowing?”

Sonic’s face lit up with excitement as he felt his little tails wag back and forth. Actual snow!

It’s been so long since he’s seen this much snow in Green Hills, during this time of year, it was just freezing outside but this year must be different. It must be a new-

His train of thought stopped as he suddenly realized what month it was. The young hedgehog jumped off his bed and zoomed over to his calendar to where the date was circled and words were in red ink.

Christmas Eve

“Oh my gosh” he said shocked as he went to put on his slippers and open the attic door. “I can’t believe I forgot what today is!” As he open up the door, he quickly rolled down the steps in his ball form to the first floor.

Once he got to the bottom, he uncurled and rubbed his head in annoyance. “We really need to get those stairs carpeted.”

Standing up to find his slipper, which had fallen off when he rolled down the stairs, he heard someone calling from the kitchen.

“Sonic?” Maddie called over the volume of the radio. “You okay sweetie?”

“Yeah I’m ok! You gotta tell Tom that he really needs to make these stairs carpeted!”

Tom’s voice cuts in immediately afterwards. “I kept telling you not to roll down them like that Sonic! They’re not designed for stuff like that.”

“Well someone needs to change that rule.” Grudgingly he sprinted over to the table where Maddie was sitting, who was writing out an email for work while Tom was flipping the pancakes on the stove, humming along to the Christmas music on the radio. The newly decorated tree tucked in the corner of the living room, filled with ornaments and family trinkets as the lights dimly glowed.

Maddie smiled and rubbed his head as he sat down next to him before going back to her computer, continuing to talk as she typed.

“So how you feeling knowing what today is?”

Swinging his legs, he looked at her with excitement. “It’s pretty exciting! I’ve never celebrated a holiday like this before.” Pausing as he petted Ozzie’s head as he made his way over to the table.

“I mean yeah I’ve heard about it so many times before from overhearing other people but actually getting that chance to celebrate it? I’m all for it!”

Maddie smiled as she continued to listen to the young teen’s ramblings of how the kids at the school told him about the traditions they’re families do to leaving out milk and cookies for an elderly man that breaks into your house through the chimney to leave presents underneath your tree.

“I mean I don’t get why he comes into people’s house while they’re sleeping, gives us so much gifts but instead of maybe, I don’t know ARREST HIM? all we give him in return is milk and cookies?”

As Maddie went to answer, but Tom beat her to it as he entered the room carry a plate full of banana pancakes and a pitcher of orange juice.

“I mean I guess that’s why he wears a red suit all the time.” He pauses as he sets the food down on the table. “Once he’s caught, he’ll be caught red handed.”

Pausing from her typing, Maddie looked up with a smile and shook her head while Sonic just looked on with a disgusted look straight at Tom.

“Why? Why must you always be so into the puns?”

Pouring the orange juice into Sonic’s cup, he simply shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just a real punny guy.” He replied as he looked up with sly grin.

Sonic threw back his head, grabbing his ears as he groaned. “UGH MADDIE PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP!”

Tom cracked up with laughter at Sonic’s reaction while Maddie placed her head in her hands, her head shaking but laughing silently as well.

Ozzie looked on at them from the corner of the room, tilting his head in curiosity.

=======

Once the dishes were cleaned up, Tom and Maddie went back upstairs while Sonic zipped over towards the window as he dried his still damp hands, watching the snow falling gently outside. “Man i can’t wait to get out there.” he said quietly as he placed his hand under his chin, arm resting on the windowsill.

“I know what you’re thinking but you’re not going outside just yet.” Maddie’s voice coming from behind him, sounding stern.

Turning around, he saw her with her kneeling against the counter, hands behind her back but her face was filled with seriousness.

“Aww why not yet? I helped clean up and i did my chores yesterday so I didn’t have to do them today!” He pressed, walking towards her.

She tapped her fingers against the counter, tilting her head in surprise at his outburst. “Well probably it’s because you don’t have a warm coat on?”

He went to respond back, but paused in realizing that she was right. Other than that nice red scarf he got back in the fall from his cousin Jojo, he didn’t have any actual winter wear for the snow.

Going outside during this time of year was always difficult when he lived in his cave, but due to his speed, he was always in and out before the cold would really get to him. Even when the cave was colder than usual, he would simply roll in a ball and burrow into layers of clothes that he found during he year until the morning.

Looking up at Maddie, he sighed in defeat. “Ok yeah I don’t have any warm clothes, it just never seemed like an issue until now.“ He mumbled as he stared down at the floor, crossing his arms and rubbing them with his hands.

Maddie, kneeling down placed and hand on his shoulder, the other hand still behind her back. “Well we can start now.” She said with a smile as she revealed a neatly wrapped package from behind her back.

Sonic looked on in shock at the package, taking gently from her hands, sitting down and eagerly ripping into the paper.

Once he opened it, what he saw brought the biggest smile on his face. Inside was a zippered lavender puffer with dark orange snow pants that was just about his size. He quickly grabbed the coat and zipped it up around his body while struggling to put on the pants and walk at the same time.

Moving his arms around, he looked at himself in the reflection of the hallway mirror, marveling at the warmth he was feeling from the material of the outfit.

In the reflection, he could see Maddie smiling at him and he turned around, grinning at her.

“I love it! It’s so warm makes funny noises when I move my arms!” He says as he demonstrates with said promised noise.

Laughing softly, she kneels down to his height and adjusts his coat.

“That’s good to hear. You can consider this an early Christmas present since you can’t wait to get outside.” She looked down at the box on the floor.

“Oh! You almost forgot about this.” She reaches inside to pull out a dark blue beanie winter hat.

“I wanted to get you a hat that’ll stay on your head when you run and due to the quills on your head being really big.” She jokingly said as she snapped the buckle under his chin.

Noticing his silence, she glances at his face, seeing his eyes well up before he quickly wipes them away to smile at her again. “Thank you” his voice cracked with emotion. Maddie smiled as she placed a hand on his cheek caressing it, causing him to close his eyes as he leans into her gentle touch.

“It’s no problem, sweetie.”

Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, the two looked up to see Tom in full snow gear complete with goggles and mask.

“Alright!” His voice muffled by the scarf around his face. “Let’s brave this weather!”

=======

Clapping his hands together, Tom walked down the driveway with Sonic and Maddie close behind him while Ozzie was jumping around in the blankets of snow on the lawn.

Other than the sound of their feet crunching against the snow, the whole woods felt so quiet. Barely any birds chirping, no sounds of cars driving on the roads in the distance, heck they wasn’t even any snow tracks of the raccoons near the garbage cans.

Turing around to face the two, Tom slapped his arms to his side, putting on a goofy sergeant-esque voice. “All right troopers, our main objective right now is to clear this driveway till there’s no more speck on snow on it. Do I make myself clear?”

Maddie looked at him with one eyebrow raised, hands on her hips while Sonic wasn’t paying him no mind, staring up at the sky and trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue.

Clearing his throat, he repeated it again but this time raising his voice louder.

“I SAID DO I MAKE MYSELF CLE-“

“Yes Thomas!” “Geez we heard you donut lord!”

“Good, now let’s get to work soldiers!” Watching him as he marched towards the end of the driveway, Maddie turned to see Sonic kneeling down near a fresh pile of snow.

He seemed to be placing handprints in the snow, making each one till they all formed a circle with the palms facing the center and the fingers facing outward.

Walking over and kneeling down, she watched as he then drew a circle in the center and used his pointer finger to place holes in the center of it.

Once he finished his new art piece, he kneeled back on his knees smiling fondly at it before his face dropped and his mouth became a tight line. Maddie, noticing this placed a hand on his back.

“You ok?”

He looked up, face never changing as he gazed out onto the snow covered lawn.

“I....used to do this during the winters when I lived in my cave, before I met you and Tom.” He let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at the hand prints. “It would remind me of the flowers that grew in my old home.” He paused, making his hands on his knees into fists, a few blue sparks started flickering from his hat. “They remind me of the flower I last gave to....her.” Maddie felt her heart skip a beat as she well knew who he was talking about.

After Sonic came to live with them. She quickly learned from Tom of the other world where the young teen had originally came from, why he had to leave and who he had to leave behind in order to be safe from harm.

Pulling him into a side hug, she heard Tom’s footsteps crunching against the snow before feeling his arm wrap around her back and seeing him kneel next to Sonic. He lifted his chin to meet Sonic’s eye. “I know Longcalw would be happy for where you are now bud. I sure know we both are.”

Sonic gave a small grin as closed his eyes and melted into their embrace, the sparks quickly fading away.

The three stayed in silence for awhile before the sound of Ozzie’s barking caught they’re attention, as he was trying to chase a squirrel up a tree but only to end up on his back in the snow.

Shaking his head at the dog, Tom stood up to go back shoveling the driveway when he looked down at the hand prints again.

After a second, a thought popped into his mind. “Hey Sonic? You still up on adding something to your bucket list?”

Sonic perked up looking up at him with interest. “You know I’m always up for that challenge.”

Nodding in agreement, he walked out into the part of the lawn where no prints were visible with Sonic walking a foot behind him. Maddie brushing off the snow from her pants and headed back inside the house, calling Ozzie to come inside.

“Ok so this is something I used to do with all the kids when it would snow.”

Crossing his arms, Sonic looked on in confusion as Tom raised his arms....onlu to fall straight back in the snow.

Alarmed he quickly ran to his side, only to see that he started to move his arms and legs back and forth. “We call these snow angels!” He yelled over the sound of his coat against the snow.

Intrigued, he began to sit in the snow, copying Tom’s movements and staring up in the cloudy sky.

“Ok we’re done, here what do you think?” He helped Sonic to his feet as they looked down at the new creations.

“Hmm, It’s fine I guess.” He backed up slightly to get a better angle. “They do kinda look like angels.”

Tilting his head to see the size difference. “Mines looks so small compared to yours”

“Well you are a small fry”

He snapped his head, looking offended “Ok first of all, I’m not that small from before! Second of all, I’m only fourteen so I’m not fully grown yet and Maddie said I’m gonna have a growth spurt soon anyway!”

“Yeah more like fourteen inches.” Tom mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately Sonic had heard that comment and bent down silently to grab a handful of snow.

“Hey Tom?”

“Wh-” *SPLAT*

Tom staggered back as he got a face full of snow, spluttering as he wiped it off his face.

Sonic fell onto his back, holding his stomach as he laughed at the man’s reaction.

“HAHAHA! Oh my god your face was so priceless! Oh man I wish I had a camera.”

Wiping the last of the snow off his face, he looked down at the laughing hedgehog. “Yeah yeah laugh it up, you think you’re so hilarious don’t you?”

He sat up, rubbing tears from his eyes. “I know I’m hilarious” he said with a sly grin.

Tom stared at him with a blank face before an evil grin appeared on his face. “Oh ok.” He said as he started to approach him.

“Uhhh why are you looking at me like th-AUUGH!” He yelped in surprise as Tom grabbed both his legs and swung him over his shoulder, dangling him upside down on the human’s back

“AAAH TOM STOP IT! PUT ME DOWN!”

“Not by a long shot, you caught me off guard so I’m simply returning the favor.” He replied as he started to purposely move his body, causing the hedgehog’s body to move back and forth.

“Ok you can stop now, you’re making me sick.” He tried to sound annoyed but was failing as a few giggles slipped out.

“Well whose fault is that?” He chuckled as he started to gallop his legs, earning more laughs out of Sonic. Hearing the sound of the front door opening (Still at an upside down perspective), he turned his head to see Maddie standing on the porch.

“Maddie! Help! He won’t put me down!”

Kneeling over the railing, she laughed at the sight of her boys playing in the yard. “Thomas Wachowski put him down now before you make him sick!”

“He assaulted a sheriff officer! He made the crime he’s doing the time for it!” He yelled as he continued to run around the yard with Sonic hanging off his back.

Rolling her eyes, she looked at her husband as face became serious.

“Thomas....”

Knowing better than to ignore his wife’s orders a second time, he swung Sonic around and placed him right side up with a look of satisfaction.

With wobbly legs, Sonic struggled to keep his balance, giggling slightly while trying to his distance from Tom just in case he tried to grab him again.

“Ok boys time to come in! It’s getting cold and I got another surprise waiting for you!”

Sonic, shaking off the last of the dizziness, zoomed up the stairs past Maddie into the house while Tom collected the shovels and looked back at the still snow covered driveway. “I guess there’s always tomorrow.”

=======

After hanging up his wet clothes and hat, Sonic took off his shoes and headed towards the couch in the living room where on the coffee table, where 3 large mugs filled with a dark liquid, steam slowly rising from each of them.

“Hey Maddie? Why’d you make us coffee this late? I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink that anymore?”

“Oh you most definitely aren’t allowed to drink it.” Sitting down next to him and opening a bag of marshmallows, putting two in each cup. “And it’s not coffee, this is called hot chocolate”

Watching as she shook a can of whipped cream, Tom entered the room with Ozzie following close behind, finding a spot on the couch next to Sonic to sit. “You guys really love spoiling me don’t you?”

“Don’t get used to it” Tom grunted as he sat in his arm chair, clutching his cup. “By tomorrow morning, things will be hectic again. It’s rare that it’s this quiet.”

Passing a cup to Sonic, Maddie scoffed as she made her cup. “Uh what about the times from before when you’d randomly invite Wade over and watch all those crazy Christmas movies with the volume blaring through the house?”

“Hey How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a classic! It deserves to be watched in its original sound ratio. I’m just ashamed that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“It’s probably because of how the actor is”

“What’s wrong with the actor?”

“He’s too...eccentric.”

“How is that a bad thing Maddie? It brings more comedic effect.”

“But he kinda goes overboard at times.”

“Hmm why does the sound similar to eggman?” He thought as the two continued their ‘discussion’ about certain actors who are still beloved for being ‘too eccentric.’

The young hedgehog sipped his warm drink as he watched them talk, petting Ozzie on the back as he took a breath, turning around to look out the window into the yard and up to the clear night sky.

He smiled as he took another sip before sitting back down on the couch laying up against the dog, no longer full of doubt.

“I gotta say, This definitely beats the cave”

171 notes · View notes

st-crylo · 4 years

Text

Rebound

Part 2

A/N: I’m gonna try to keep this updated weekly, especially since the response to it has been so good :,). Thank you guys so much, I really appreciate y’all for taking time to read my fics!!

Warnings: mostly just swearing, alcohol mention, tobacco use, infidelity

Word Count: 6.2K

Tagging:@haylaansmi @nankstasty @thomasscresswell

Masterlist

As you walked through the door, you saw your mom waiting for you in the kitchen, reading some article in a magazine. When she heard the door close, she looked up and smiled at you.

“How was the first day back?” she asked, a little too enthusiastically.

“Not terrible. Made some new friends,” you replied before heading up the stairs to your room, trying to avoid any more questions. You didn’t want to have to lie to your mom about the new friends you’d made, especially since she saw Kylo how everyone else did.

Closing the door to your room, you heaved a sigh before throwing your backpack onto the ground, and plopping down on your bed, pulling out your phone to see an email. Curious, you opened the notification, then groaned when you saw who the sender was.

(y/n), we really need to talk. I understand that you probably have me blocked, so I had to go to drastic measures. As much as there is I want to say to you, a lot of it can’t be said over an email. However, I do think you should know that I really don’t think you should be hanging out with Ben Solo. He’s not the kind of person someone like you should hang around, and he’s nothing more than a common criminal. I’m only looking out for you. I love you, Shawn.

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, scream at the top of your lungs, and maybe break something. The rage inside you was boiling hot, and you felt like a kettle, left on the stove too long. What kind of desperate asshole decides an email is a great way to contact the girl you cheated on? Why did he even expect a response from you? Most importantly, how dare he claim to love you. The whole thing had you heated, but you held your composure as you deleted the email, and pulled the little slip of paper with Kylo’s number on it out.

You stared at the number, and thought about Kylo’s idea. If you were being completely honest, Shawn’s email made you consider it more seriously. After all, it was obvious that the idea of you even hanging around Kylo set something off in him. If the two of you were to “date,” he would probably lose his shit. Admittedly, the idea of watching Shawn implode like that would be kinda fun.

At the same time, you didn’t know this person. Not Kylo, you’d known him so long, even though today seemed more like a reintroduction instead of a reunion. No, you weren’t sure you knew who you were. You’d never wished ill upon someone like this, and certainly never considered going through with something so major in order to upset someone. That had never really been your style, and you’d always looked down at people who did stuff like that.

But did you really know yourself at all?

You’d been with Shawn for three years, all of high school, really. Those were the most formative years of your life, and they’d been shaped by your boyfriend. Were you really this suburban good girl, who only had good friends, had never even been to a high school party, and certainly never rebelled against even her parents? Or were those things that Shawn had shaped you to be? After all, the more you thought about it, the more you realised his opinions had affected a lot of the way you acted. So now, you were left at an impasse. Were you really who you’d acted as your first three years of high school, or were you someone else entirely that you’d never gotten to discover?

You created a contact for Kylo on your phone, and typed up a message.

What exactly would us “dating” entail?

You started at the screen of your phone as you watched the dots appear as Kylo started texting back. There was a little bit of anxiety in your chest, but the idea of “dating” Kylo filled you with a sense of thrill as well.

We wouldn’t be “dating” right away. We’d pretend to flirt for a while and then start dating. Do basic couple shit at school, but especially wherever him or his little friends can see.

Made sense. It wouldn’t be smart to jump straight to dating, that would be too suspicious. Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure how to flirt, but you were sure you could get some advice somewhere. You pulled up your keyboard to respond.

We should also make sure to go on dates, too. That way, we can convince your parents we’re dating too.

After all, Kylo had to have something in it as well, and he said he wanted to convince his parents he was improving.

Shit, I forgot about that. I’ll have to bring you around Gran and Granpa too, if that’s okay with you.

Yeah, that’s fine.

So is that a yes?

You thought for a moment. Was this really the decision you wanted to make? Then, you thought about the picture, and thought about the email.

Hell yeah.

***

The next morning, you didn’t have to fight so hard to get out of bed. You actually took the time to throw on some jeans instead of leggings. Most importantly, your heart didn’t feel so heavy. It was like you finally had an inkling of hope in the form of revenge. Looking out of your bedroom window, you noticed how the sky was still overcast, but there was no rain. However, just to be on the safe side, you threw on your jacket and made sure to bring your umbrella.

Walking down the steps, you peeked into the kitchen from the top of the stairs, making sure the coast was clear before continuing your descent. Your dad was there, sipping his morning coffee and reading something on his phone, but your mom was nowhere in sight. Letting out a small sigh of relief, you continued down the stairs, noticing your lunch bag and a small note on the island.

“Morning, (y/n),” your dad said, not looking up from his phone.

“Morning,” you responded before picking up the note.

Morning, dear. I had to head to work early today, but I went ahead and packed your lunch. Have a good day at school! Love, mom.

A small frown pulled the corners of your mouth down a little. You loved your mom, but she had been trying too hard to cheer you up instead of letting you simply wallow in your misery for a couple of days. You neatly folded the note and put it in your pocket before taking your lunch off the counter.

“Bye, dad,” you said as you headed for the front door. Your dad gave you a final wave goodbye before you opened the door, heading out into the world.

Unsurprisingly, Kylo was sitting there, presumably waiting for you as he leaned against the back of his Mustang, smoking his morning cigarette. He must’ve been out there for a while, because he dropped the butt onto the ground before stomping it out and picking it back up. When he came back up, he noticed you and smiled.

“Want another ride?” He asked, standing straight and running a hand through his long hair.

“Beats walking,” you said, walking up to the Skywalker driveway and climbing into the car as Kylo threw his cigarette butt away. Kylo climbed in next, starting the car as soon as he closed the door.

“So my uncle told Gran and Granpa that you and I have been hanging out,” Kylo started as he pulled out of the driveway. “Can you believe they already want you over for dinner?”

You shook your head with a smile on your face. Even though they were your next door neighbors, you hadn’t really spoken to Kylo’s grandparents. “Sounds like fun. When?”

“Friday,” Kylo responded

You simply nodded in response before staring out of the passenger window. Then, you remembered.

“Do you want to hear about something Shawn sent to me yesterday?” you asked, turning to Kylo. He furrowed his brows in confusion as he glanced at you from his peripherals.

“Did you not block him?” he asked, the same confusion he wore on his face mixed into his tone.

“No, I did. He sent me this through email, if you can believe it,” you said.

“Go ahead, I’m all ears,” he replied.

You recalled the contents of the email to the best of your ability, and as you did, you watched Kylo’s knuckles slowly turn white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“And after all of that, he has the nerve to say he loves me? After everything he’s put me through, he has the balls to say he loves me? Apparently not, if he’s perfectly okay sticking his tongue down some other girl’s throat,” you said with an angry huff, as tears threatened to fall. They weren’t sad tears, however. No, these were the tears of pure unbridled rage that only became realized when you talked about the situation out loud. It was weird, but admittedly the feeling was welcome. You were tired of being sad, and angry was a much better improvement. At least with anger you could stop moping around.

“I hate that shit,” Kylo commented as he stopped at the red light at the end of the neighborhood. “They always try to tell you they love you, but if they loved you they wouldn’t have cheated in the first place. Fuck that.”

“My sentiments exactly.” There was another good thing about Kylo; he could relate to you. You knew that none of your friends had ever been cheated on before, so it was a lot harder to talk to them about it. Kylo, though, he knew the pain, the resentment, everything. He would know exactly how you were feeling and not make any judgments-not that he would do it whether or not he’d experienced it anyways. It was such a different change of scenery, it was honestly refreshing.

Not that you didn’t love your friends, you treasured them dearly. There was just something about knowing someone who’d had the same experiences as you.

The light turned green and Kylo drove forward into the school parking lot, maneuvering into his spot. When he placed the car in park, there was a small ding from his phone, and he grabbed it, checking the notification.

“Milo’s gonna drop Sami and Alan off, so they’re gonna hang with us before class. Means you can meet Milo,” Kylo said before texting a reply. You didn’t know why, but you had a really good feeling about Milo. After all, he was a friend of Kylo’s.

It was about five minutes later when a grey Honda Civic pulled up beside the two of you. Needless to say, that was not what you were expecting. You watched as Sami and Alan stepped out of the Honda Civic, followed by who you assumed was Milo.

He was maybe an inch taller than Kylo, his hair bleached white with dark brown barely peeking out at the roots of his hair. He had a cigarette between his lips, and you wondered if that was where Kylo had picked up the habit. When Kylo rolled down your window, he leaned against the car and peered in through the window while Alan and Sami climbed into the backseat behind the driver’s seat. Once they were in the back, Kylo set the seat back, settling in and closing the door.

“You must be (y/n),” he said, holding out his hand to you. You shook his hand and smiled up at him.

“That’s me,” you answered before dropping your hand onto your lap.

“So, are we still on for Friday?” Milo asked, turning to Kylo. Kylo frowned before letting out a sigh.

“Shit, I forgot. Told my grandparents that me and (y/n) would have dinner with them. If you wanna go later though, I can probably sneak out,” Kylo responded, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s fine, just don’t get caught. Wanna come along too, (y/n)? Sami, Alan, Phasma, and Pat are coming,” Milo said, turning back to you.

“Where exactly?” you asked, turning to Kylo.

“Jordan’s place, she graduated with Milo. She’s having a kickback before heading to Coruscant for college,” Kylo explained.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you started, a little uncomfortable about being invited to the house of someone you didn’t know.

“If you go, Kylo might not have to sneak out,” Sami suggested from the back. “Besides, Jordan’s really chill, I think you’d like her.”

“How would her going with me make it to where I don’t have to sneak out?” Kylo asked, turning around to face Sami.

“Well, no one really expects (y/n) to go to a party. She could just tell your grandparents that the two of you are going to study,” Sami offered. As you thought it over, it was a pretty decent idea. You didn’t really have the party reputation, and everyone knew it.

“I’m game,” you answered. Kylo looked at you with a look of surprise, but simply shrugged as he pulled out a cigarette from the box.

“Sick. I’ll see you Friday then. I gotta go, I have a shift in thirty minutes. See ya, Alan, bye babe!” Milo said before blowing a kiss to Sami. She smiled back at him and waved goodbye as he climbed back into his car, driving off out of the parking lot.

“Oh, (y/n), you might wanna tell your parents you’re staying at my place on Friday night,” Sami said as Kylo lit his cigarette. “Jordan usually has drinks at her ‘kickbacks.’” You nodded as you looked back at her.

“So did he ask you yet?” came Alan’s voice, his eyes refusing to leave the screen of his phone.

“As a matter of fact,” Kylo said after taking the first drag of his cig. “I did. Me and (y/n) are planning to ‘date.’ And Sami thought I wouldn’t have the balls.” He blew the smoke out of the window, before taking another drag.

“I never said that,” Sami said with a frown. “I just said that your explanation of your plan seemed a little lacking. I’m glad you agreed, though, (y/n). Shawn’s a piece of shit.”

“You’re telling me,” you said as you let out a sigh. “Can’t wait to see the look on his smug little face when I start ‘dating’ someone he hates. Wasn’t aware that Kylo shared his plan with everyone, though.” A small flush arose in Kylo’s cheeks, and he didn’t make eye contact with you.

“You would be surprised, when he’s not being an emo prick, he won’t shut the fuck up,” Alan added, looking up with a smirk. Kylo looked back at him with his brows furrowed.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Kylo huffed out. He finished up the last of his cigarette before checking the clock. It was 8:00 already.

“Shit, let’s get going, punks,” Sami said, lightly kicking the back of Kylo’s seat.

“Fuck, I’m getting out. Hand me my bag,” Kylo said as he tossed the cigarette butt into the car’s ashtray. Without warning, a black backpack went flying towards Kylo and hit him on the chest. “Fuck you, Sami.” He grabbed his bag by the straps and stepped out of the car, bringing the seat forward so Sami and Alan could climb out. You stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you, putting your backpack onto your shoulders while you waited for everyone to step out. Kylo walked forward first and you fell into step beside him.

As the four of you walked into the building, you could feel people turn to stare at you, and you remembered your reputation. You weren’t the kind of girl to hang out with Kylo Ren and his ilk, you were one of the good girls. A small voice in the back of your head resented that.

Alan split off pretty quickly, bidding his farewell before heading to his first class. Sami was next, saying she wanted to be early to art, so she said her goodbye before speeding away.

“Guess I’ll see you at lunch,” Kylo said as the two of you parted, and you headed for your econ class.

Much like yesterday, the pace of which your first two classes moved was painfully slow. You weren’t surprised, the first day of actual class was horrible, but you tried to stay focused and take notes. Whenever you got distracted, though, you kept thinking about the plan you and Kylo had established. It felt like the perfect revenge, “dating” someone Shawn hated. However, the more you thought about it, the more you wondered why exactly Shawn hated Kylo. Kylo had said it was because he’d punched Shawn, but you felt like there was something there that you were missing, some truth that Kylo didn’t want to say.

You couldn’t worry about it too much, though. It was Kylo’s business, and you didn’t want to pry if he didn’t want to tell you exactly what had happened. You definitely weren’t going to go to Shawn for the reason, and you doubted that Shawn would tell you the truth anyways, so it would have to remain an unsolved mystery in your mind.

Lunch could not have come sooner, and as you flowed into the cafeteria with the rest of the people who had third lunch, you looked around for your new group of friends. You saw Phasma first, who waved at you to come over to her. As you walked closer, you watched as she stepped out to the outdoor seating, and you followed, noticing everyone else sitting there too. There were only a handful of other groups outside as well, so it was much more quiet and calm than being in the loud cafeteria.

“Man, Mr. Jinn’s class is kicking my ass,” you heard Alan say as you sat down between Phasma and Kylo.

“How, it’s only the second day of classes?” Phasma asked before biting into a roll.

“Have you ever had Mr. Jinn’s class, Phasma?” Kylo asked, putting a bookmark in the book he was reading.

“No.”

“Then don’t say shit. He’s a cool guy, but damn he gives a lot of homework. Alan, if you need help, don’t come to me,” Kylo said, leaning against the table. Alan frowned as he looked up at Kylo.

“Wow, thanks, Kylo, you’re such a hero,” he quipped.

“So, (y/n), how was the beginning of your second day?” Sami asked, pushing aside her untouched lunch as she leaned forward to talk to you.

“It was alright, but I’m getting tired of people staring at me,” you responded. Even though you’d tried your hardest to focus, the whispers were still hard to ignore. It almost felt like you were being punished for Shawn’s actions.

“People don’t know how to mind their own goddamn business,” Phasma stated. “They just want shit to gossip about. When you’re not the fresh gossip anymore, they’ll all but forget you exist.”

“I can’t wait for that to happen. I’m tired of hearing rumors about something involving me. Especially since I basically don’t know shit,” you admitted. This caused Sami to raise her eyebrows.

“How do you mean? If you don’t mind, of course.” For a second, you pondered on whether or not you wanted to talk about it, but your doubt washed away pretty quickly. It was amazing how comfortable you felt around these people. You did look around the courtyard though, to make sure there was no one there that you didn’t want to hear what you were talking about. When you decided the coast was clear, you let out a sigh before you spoke.

“Well, on Thursday, I was sent a picture,” you started, feeling the pang in your chest, but not as fiercely as you did yesterday. “It was of Shawn making out with some girl. I’m guessing it was one of his friends who sent it to me, but it wasn’t from a number I had saved. I’m also assuming that whoever it was that sent the picture also sent it to a lot of people. I got a lot of messages that night from people I’d maybe spoken to once about what happened, but the thing is, I don’t know what happened. I didn’t want Shawn’s explanation, because I didn’t think he’d be truly honest, and I wasn’t sure who to ask about it. Shawn’s friends would probably defend him.”

Sami’s face turned to one of deep thought, as if she was trying to solve some kind of puzzle.

“Did you think about texting the sender?” Alan asked. When he said it, you felt kind of dumb for not thinking about it.

“I did not,” you admitted.

“I can write something up for you,” Sami offered. “That way you don’t have to look at the picture again.” You shrugged, and handed your phone to Sami, who took it in her hands, bringing it close to her face. She tapped on what you assumed was the conversation with the sender, and for a moment, you could have sworn there was shock in her eyes. If it had been there, it didn’t last, as her face instantly went back to the one of thought. She hesitated a moment, then started typing away.

“How does this sound: Hey, I want to thank you for sending this. Do you mind telling me how you came upon this picture?” She said aloud.

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” you said. Sami tapped the screen again, sending the message, before handing your phone back to you. A part of you felt a little anxious. On the one hand, you wanted to know the story behind the photo, but at the same time, you wanted to remain willfully ignorant. It mostly branched from a fear inside you that he’d been cheating for a long time.

However, the rest of lunch passed, and you hadn’t received any messages. While it was a little relieving, it still added on to the anxiety that had settled in the pit of your stomach. You tried to ignore it though, as you and Kylo headed to physics, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence.

When you got to Mr. Windu’s class, the two of you took your seats, while people whispered from around the room.

“Can you believe she’s hanging out with him now?”

“She really shouldn’t lower her standards like that just because of what happened.”

The last one had you whipping around, trying to find the person who said it. Everyone looked away when you did, though, so there was no clear suspect, but it didn’t prevent you from glaring at everyone around the room. At least, you did until you saw Shawn walk in. Once you caught even the slightest glimpse out of the corner of your eye, you turned back around, boiling in your anger.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kylo said softly, unbothered by the whispers. “I’m the town disappointment, of course they’re going to say that.” You looked up at Kylo and frowned.

“What makes them so holy to pass judgement like that? I’m sure they’ve all done fucked up shit too, their parents just aren’t as in the spotlight as yours,” you huffed out as Mr. Windu began to take roll.

When Mr. Windu’s lecture started, you were your normal studious self, taking detailed notes and making sure to get any equations down. Every once in a while, you would look over to Kylo’s notes and noticed the bare minimum of notes being taken. At one point, you looked at him incredulously. He simply shrugged before writing in the margins of your notes.

I’ve always been good at science. You let out a small huff of air before writing back.

Lucky. Kylo smiled before looking back up at the board, where Mr. Windu was writing another equation.

When the bell rang, you quickly shoved your stuff into your backpack, and waited for Kylo so the two of you could get to fourth block. Once Kylo had his stuff packed, the two of you were off. You were free, at least that was what you thought. The notion of freedom disappeared when you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks, and for Kylo to stop as well. Turning around, you had to resist the incredible urge to punch Shawn in the face.

“You haven’t been responding to my messages,” he stated. He was obviously trying to sound hurt, but you could hear that hint of anger in his voice. It was something you were familiar with, but it was weird for it to be directed at you.

“Fuck off, Alvarez,” Kylo said, stepping forward, his figure looming over you. You looked up at Kylo and shook your head.

“I don’t remember asking your opinion, Solo,” Shawn said, trying to puff out his chest. It was kind of funny to see, honestly, because he was at least six inches shorter than Kylo. Despite how funny a part of you found Shawn’s response, though, you stepped between them.

“Have you considered that the reason I haven’t responded to you is because I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say?” You finally said, crossing your arms as you looked at Shawn. Looking at him straight on like this for the first time in a week was causing your stomach to churn, and your heart to clench, but you were tired, in every sense of the word. You just wanted to be left alone to deal with your emotions, and not have him harassing you every three seconds.

“You have to let me explain myself-” he started, but you let out a laugh, one of those laughs that dripped of sarcasm and anger.

“I don’t have to let you do shit. You cheated on me, end of story. Please, just leave me alone,” you said before turning around and walking off. After a few seconds, you heard Kylo begin to follow you, catching up to you with ease and falling into step beside you, not saying a word. You appreciated that, as you were trying your hardest not to cry. As much as you thought your anger had taken over your sadness, it was really just a blanket. At this moment, it felt like you were shriveling from the inside, and anything said to you would immediately cause you to start sobbing. It was a special kind of hurt, being cheated on. So many emotions ran through your head, but the one that remained in your heart always lingered; why weren’t you enough?

The two of you walked into fourth block not but two minutes before the bell rang. You took the same seat you sat in yesterday, and settled in your seat, breathing deeply to keep yourself calm. You saw Sami and Phasma both look at Kylo, confused looks on their faces. Kylo merely shook his head before pulling out a notebook. Taking one final deep breath, you did the same, sitting straight as you waited for Mr. Skywalker to call roll.

Once he’d done so, he picked up a crate, placing it on the desk nearest to him.

“Alright, go ahead, come up, and grab your copy of Beowulf,” he said.

“I’ll get them.” Kylo said as he stood, walking up to the crate and waiting behind your other classmates as he waited to grab the books. When he came back, he handed a book to each of you, and you gave him a half smile. It was all you could really manage, but Kylo matched it with a little more enthusiasm than you.

Once everyone had their books, Mr. Skywalker decided to go into the history of Beowulf. However, during his explanation, you began to zone out. You really just wanted to go home, curl up in your room, and sleep until tomorrow came. You did feel a hand tap you, and you turned to Kylo, who was holding out a slip of paper to you, while keeping his eyes on the board. You took the folded paper from his hand, and opened it up. On the paper were two phone numbers, the top one being Phasma’s, and the lower being Sami’s. You typed both into your phone and sent a simple “hey” to each number. Sami responded back.

You okay?

With a sigh, you started typing on your keyboard.

Yeah, just had a run-in with my ex. You watched Sami out of the corner of your eye as she read your message and responded.

Shit, I’m sorry. She then sent a picture of a ridiculously fat cat, which actually did make you smile.

The rest of class passed by pretty quickly, even after the class started the beginning of the poem aloud, which, like anyone else, you had to admit was the worst part of class. When Mr. Skywalker had decided the class had done enough reading, everyone began to pack up as they waited for the final bell to ring to let them out of class. Phasma and Sami both turned around in their seats to strike conversation for the last few minutes of class.

“Glad that’s over,” Phasma said, frowning. “Why do we have to read aloud in the first place?”

“Torture,” Sami said sagely. “We’re meant to suffer.”

“Pretty sure it’s so that people can gain confidence reading aloud and speaking in front of a crowd,” Kylo said as he leaned back in his seat, looking at his phone.

“What academic input, truly an improvement for such a delinquent,” Phasma quipped, causing Kylo to look up from his phone, eyebrows raised, before returning to staring at the screen. “So, I heard you’re coming to Jordan’s on Friday.” Phasma now turned to you.

“Yeah. I’m actually pretty excited,” you said, leaning forward to feel more present in the conversation.

“As you should be, Jordan knows how to have fun,” Sami said, making herself sound like an expert in the subject of Jordan. You laughed as the bell rang, standing up and stretching before slinging your backpack onto your shoulder. You watched as Finn, Poe, Rey, and Rose all walked by, waving at you as they went. You waved back to each of them, but frowned a little once they’d passed. You hadn’t really spoken to them much since Thursday, and you felt kinda bad about it. You would talk to them tonight, you decided.

Soon, the four of you filed out of the classroom, walking at a comfortable pace as Kylo and Phasma walked together, talking about skating. You and Sami walked side by side in silence, until Sami leaned closer to you, so that the two in front of you couldn’t hear.

“I think I know who the girl in the picture is. Text me when you get home,” she said before drifting away again. You felt your chest tighten, but you only nodded, deciding to change the subject.

“I’m gonna tell my mom I’m staying at your place Friday night when I get home. She’s a little weird about sleepovers, so she might want to talk to you,” you said as your group reached the front of the school.

“Hey, I can probably just tell my grandparents that the three of us are gonna study at your place,” Kylo offered.

“Yeah, that works. After all, I am the only one of your friends who hasn’t wound up with the title ‘delinquent,’” Sami quipped. Kylo gave a frown in response, before stopping in front of the entrance to the school.

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kylo said. The two of you waved goodbye before heading to Kylo’s car. There was silence at first as the two of you climbed into the car, and Kylo started the engine, but it was broken with a sigh from Kylo.

“We don’t have to do this, you know. If Shawn’s just gonna harass you for even being around me, it isn’t really worth it,” he said, pulling out of his parking spot. You couldn’t help but let out your own sigh.

“That’s not the reason he’s harassing me,” you started. “He’s harassing me because he thinks he can still control me, and convince me that he didn’t mean it. Honestly, the easiest way to get him to leave me alone is if we stick to the plan.” It was a frustrating realization, but it was certainly true. If Shawn thought you had moved on, he was probably more likely to leave you alone. Sure, he’d probably have some choice words to say about you, but you seriously doubted that he’d say them to your face.

The rest of the drive home was spent with the music loud, Kylo occasionally singing along softly. When the two of you pulled into the driveway, you waited before stepping out, and turned to Kylo.

“Thanks for sticking up for me again. You really don’t have to do that,” you said. Kylo shook his head and ran a hand through his ebony hair.

“You’re my friend, (y/n). I’ll always stick up for you,” he responded before turning the car off. You gave him a small smile before opening the door.

“See you in the morning,” you said before stepping out.

“See ya, bright and early,” he responded with a smirk. You shook your head as you turned to head to your house.

Upon walking in the door, you saw your mom sitting at the dining room table. She was looking at what looked to be some documents from work, but she looked up when you closed the door, and gave you a warm smile.

Here goes, you thought to yourself before returning her smile, and walking up to the table.

“How was your day, honey?” she asked, shifting her attention to you.

“It was good. Actually, my friend Sami invited me to stay at her place on Friday,” you responded. You actually felt a lot of anxiety in your chest, but you were trying your hardest not to let it show. You’d never really lied to your parents like this before, and it was strange for that to start your senior year, but you actually really wanted to go. The opportunity to hang out with your new set of friends, not to mention Kylo, was so exciting.

“Oh, is this that new friend you were talking about yesterday?” she asked. It almost looked like there was a great deal of happiness in her eyes. They practically lit up, and you couldn’t really say you blamed her. After all, after you’d gotten home on Thursday, you had shut yourself in your room, refusing to come out. Making new friends and being invited to one of their houses? It was definitely an upgrade.

“Yeah. She’s really cool, and she’s trying to get into art school,” you said, smiling at your mom.

“Alright, but I want you to message me throughout the night. Are you gonna head home with her that night?” Your heart dropped at that. You hadn’t mentioned anything about Kylo- obviously- and you were supposed to be having dinner with the Skywalkers on Friday as well. There really was no point in lying about that, it would be too easy to get caught.

“Actually, I’m supposed to have dinner with the Skywalkers next door that night, too. I’ve been getting rides from Ben, and his grandparents invited me to dinner,” you said, waiting for shit to hit the fan. Surprisingly, your mother’s face didn’t turn red, but she did frown.

“I don’t know about you hanging around with Ben Solo…” you could tell she was trying to be delicate, but there was no mistaking in her voice that she felt the same way about him that all the parents did. You knew another lie was needed in this scenario too.

“He has been giving me rides, and they really just want us to be friends because they think I’ll make him be a little more responsible. But he did offer to take me to Sami’s house too. I promise, when I get there, I’ll take a picture with Sami and send it to you,” you said. You could see the cogs turning over in her head as she thought it over. When she finally let out a sigh, you knew she had relented.

“Alright, but I want to see you after dinner, before you leave for Sami’s, okay?” she said. You smiled and nodded before turning on your heels, heading for the stairs.

“I’m gonna go ahead and get started on dinner,” she called as you practically skipped up the stairs.

When you got into your room, you let your backpack fall to the ground before plopping onto your bed and pulling your phone. You had two messages. One was from Sami, and you remembered what she had told you earlier. With a pang in your chest, your excitement for Friday extinguished, you decided to look at the other message.

It was from the sender of the picture.

#kylo ren #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars fanfic #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #highschool au

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hazzmedicine · 5 years

Text

his replacement pt. 3

a/n: Here is part 3!! It took me about 4 hours so I hope you enjoy! There will be a part 4 2.7K

2 days. Harry had no idea what to do in LA for the next 2 days until his flight to the Bahamas. By default, he was gonna spend them worrying. Thoughts ran through his mind of all the things Y/N and Shawn could do in a paradise. Perhaps she’d let him see her in the same intimate way Harry had seen her so many times before. Or maybe she’d decide he was much more of a gentleman and completely rid Harry from her life, although he knew he deserved it but it still hurt.

But he couldn’t dwell on it too much. He spent two days reflecting on the events leading up to this moment. How this messy situation started and what drove her away. Including the argument that he didn’t think would make such a drastic change between them.

A few days before they were supposed to leave for their trip, Y/N had arrived at Harry’s house to hangout like she usually did. They were sitting on the couch, some music on for background noise. Harry was busy on his laptop - business emails awaiting him - and Y/N was scrolling through her social media apps to pass the time until she had his attention.

“Oh my god, Harry, look at this.” Y/N tilted her phone his direction so he could quickly glance at the picture of a friend of hers posing on the beach. It may not have been the same beach where they were heading to but it was still beautiful. Harry only responded with a lift of his eyebrows in an uninterested expression before going back to typing. “I can’t wait for our trip. Which reminds me, have you packed yet?”

Y/N could tell he wasn’t listening, she’d learned he’s not very good at focusing on two different things at once. He confirms her thought when after a long pause, he says, “What’d ya say?”

With a slightly frustrated sigh, she repeats herself slowly. “Have you packed yet, ya know, for our trip?” He fully looks up from his device with furrowed brows.

“Uh, no. What trip?” At first, Y/N thought he must be joking. But when he stayed silent and the questioning look remained, she realized he truly forgot.

“Harry, you really forgot?! The trip I booked for us 2 weeks ago for the Bahamas.” The more details she gave, the more he still didn’t recall any of these plans.

“Why would you plan a trip for us?” Y/N went on to explain the discussion they had those 2 weeks ago. She mentioned him going on a vacation a few weeks before he went on his world tour because she knew how restless touring got. And he told her what a great idea that would be but of course he didn’t want to go alone. And as she continued to elaborate on the details, she found herself getting more and more angry. Here they were a few days away from what was supposed to be a nice, relaxing vacation (that she lowkey hoped would develop their relationship) and he couldn’t remember a single thing about what they had talked about.

He took note of frustration in her voice, and decided to add on to his list of mistakes that night. “Ok I didn’t mean to forget, but either way I’m not going.” That sentence is all it took for her jaw to drop. Meanwhile, he goes back to focusing on whatever emails his team has sent him.

“Wh-what do you mean you’re not going?! I plan something nice for you that you seemed so excited for last week and now all of a sudden you’re not going?!” The disbelief in her voice is clear

“Listen Y/N, I don’t have time to go on holiday, okay?” His patience has run thin and his tone has turned rude. “I have a world tour I need to prepare for. So as I just said. I’m. Not. Going. I don’t get why you care so much anyway.” His excuse ignites a flame inside her while his lack of compassion stings her heart.

Grinding her teeth, she takes his laptop from him to get his full attention. Before he can even protest, she cuts him off. “I care because I’ve spent all this time planning and paying for a trip with you. But here you are canceling on me very last minute! And that’s frustrating, Harry, because this would’ve been our last chance to spend time together before you disappear for months on tour.” Y/N mentally pats herself on the back for staying composed as she tells him how she’s feeling. Now this would be the time when the Harry she knows would see the other side and apologize or try to come to a compromise.

Too bad this wasn’t the Harry she knows. “God, Y/N, spending time with you isn’t my top priority right now. You’re not my fucking girlfriend so get off my back. I’ve got things to take care of here in LA, the beach isn’t going anywhere. So if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of something.” He grabs the laptop back from where she had put it before she could respond.

But she didn’t even know how to respond. She was hurt to say the least, but also mad as hell. Across from her was a total asshole who felt no guilt for degrading her after she had given so much of herself to him. How does one respond after being blindsided like so?

“Fuck you, Harry.”

And Harry hasn’t seen her since. He hasn’t talked to her in any way since because she won’t respond to him. And now he has to wait impatiently to apologize in person in two days. These are about to be the longest days of his life.

---

Y/N and Shawn, however, know exactly how to pass the time on their trip. They visit the beach everyday, whether it is to swim or just for a nice morning walk. They fell into a routine of Y/N either cooking or ordering breakfast while Shawn meditates on the back deck. And then they choose something to do that day.

Yesterday, they went swimming with pigs and snorkeling. And today, they headed onto a boat to explore the ocean and surrounding island. It was the evening activity that they were looking forward to the most. The beach bar. Luckily for them, the legal drinking age is 18 so Shawn could join in on the fun.

And that’s exactly what they did. After a fun boat trip, that she even got to do a little steering, they cleaned themselves up and went to a beach bar within walking distance.

Shawn can’t figure out if it’s the lighting in this mostly outside bar or the two beers that he has already downed, but something has him noticing Y/N’s beauty more than usual. He’s always saw her as a gorgeous girl and sometimes her laugh made his knees weak, but at this moment she looked ethereal. The sun that she has endured has tanned her smooth skin, that is noticeable in her shorts and tube top, and lightened her hair in a way that makes it look perfect as it rests on her shoulder.

But it’s the smile she’s wearing as she strikes up conversation with the older, local bartender that has him mentally swooning over her. He’s never had a chance to admire her for her kindness. His thoughts consumed by her are temporarily distracted as she pulls him back into their conversation and continues to hand him alcoholic beverages.

By the end of the night, the alcohol is having a strong effect on both of them, Shawn more than her. She wanted to be able to walk them to their temporary home when they were done. She says goodbye to the bartender, who she genuinely enjoyed talking to, and takes another drink out of Shawn’s hand.

“Goodbye you two. You guys make a beautiful couple by the way.” The words of the bartender, although incorrect, make it impossible for her not to smile. She thanks him and collects Shawn from his seat.

The walk back was interesting. Y/N was sober enough to know how to get there but she definitely didn’t it walking in a straight line. And Shawn, oh that boy. He'd occasionally start yelling lyrics from infamous songs out into the quiet night. He would claim to get dizzy every once and awhile so he held onto Y/N to keep his balance. She didn’t mind his physical contact to say the least.

When they arrived at the house, Y/N had dropped him off at his door and let him figure out what to do from there. She had gone to her own room - the one that faced the beach and the waves could be heard - and undressed into pajamas. She pondered if she had enough energy to remove her makeup and decided to just do it so that morning her wouldn’t be mad.

Y/N hadn’t even been in bed for 5 minutes before there was a knock on her door. “Yes, Shawn?” she groaned. He opened the door enough to pop his head in, some curls dangling onto his face.

“Y/N, can I ask for a favor.” This piqued her interest because what could he possibly need this late and this drunk.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“It’s just that,” he interrupted himself with a soft giggle, “I’m kinda, a little, tiny bit drunk.” His slurred words and his need to state the clear observation makes Y/N laugh at how adorable he is. “And well, I can’t sleep in my room because the waves are too loud and are giving me a headache.”

Shawn’s room was in the opposite direction from hers, which means it’s farther from the beach and the sound of the waves are much fainter. Y/N knew this even with the alcohol running in her system. But she didn’t say anything because she knew this was his attempt in sharing a bed with her, and she could use some harmless company.

“Fine, get over. Don’t hog the covers though.” The edges of his lips perk up into a smile and he rushes in before she can change her mind. She takes in his appearance. Somehow he was able to undress himself in his state and now all he has on are his signature Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

Even under the influence, Shawn is still respectful and keeps a good amount of distance between them, not wanting to cross too many boundaries - at least not all in one night.There’s a moment of silence between them and she thinks he may be asleep from how deep his breathing has gotten. However, Shawn clears his throat to speak.

“Y/N?”

“Shawn?”

“I agree with Lukas. We would be a beautiful couple.”

Speechless. Y/N can’t find words. What kind of response was he looking for? Was that his way of admitting he had feelings for her? So many things she was thinking about. And luckily he had fallen asleep soon after, giving her the time to sort through her thoughts.

---

All that sorting had put her to sleep and when she wakes up in the morning she had noticed her pillow had shifted from fluffy cotton to muscly flesh. Lifting her head to observe her position, she sees that her head was rested on Shawn’s chest, her arm draped over his stomach, and their legs intertwined. She has always been a cuddly person so she’s not surprised she migrated towards him in her sleep.

She looks up to his face to see that he is still asleep, soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. He looks so soft and peaceful. She continues to admire him until a weak headache begins pounding on the back of her head. Slowly removing herself from Shawn, which causes him to stir a little, she tiptoes to her bag to grab the advil she packed. She grabs some for herself and then leaves some on the bedside for him to take when he awakes. She leaves the room to get some water for the both of them and order some breakfast.

She returns right as he starts to stir awake. She crawls back onto the bed and sits on her knees. “Morning, sunshine.” He groans in pain from the headache the alcohol has left him and from the brightness of the sun shining through the window. Wordlessly, she hands him the water and the pills to help with the hangover.

“How’d I end up here - I mean I’m not complaining, just wondering,” he asks after successfully swallowing his medication and gives her a sly smile. Y/N didn’t know if she should bring up the “beautiful couple” part from last night.

“You practically begged to cuddle with me last night and I was feeling generous.” He could tell right off the bat that she wasn’t being serious.

“Oh really? Are you sure you weren’t the one begging for me?” His teasing words cause a faint blush on her cheeks.

“I’m positive. You were the drunk one so it’s not like you can remember.” Oh, but if only she knew the parts he did remember. He remembered the way he clung onto her on the way home and how much he missed her presence when she had left him in his room. He even remembers his last words before falling asleep and waking up in the middle of the night to her nuzzling into his chest.

“Is that so? Then what else am I forgetting about last night?” Y/N is internally panicked. Bringing up his previous statement from the night before could lead to a conversation full of answers to her many questions. Or she could just embarrass herself because maybe he didn’t mean it.

She would never know unless she asked. “You may have mentioned something about us.”

He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Us? What about us?”

She bites her lower lip out of nervousness. “Oh, just something about being a beautiful couple, no biggie.” He lets out a soft chuckle at her faux chill attitude.

“And how did you feel about that?” She scooted closer to him. She stayed rested on the knees as the one side of her leg rested against the side of his leg. He was resting against the headboard and moved his hand to rest on her knee.

“Honestly, I haven’t decided yet but it’s definitely not the worst idea I’ve heard.” It may not be a clear yes, but the way she talked so shyly, her response has made him giddy and full of hope.

“Well then maybe I can help you make up your mind.” He moves his hand from her knee up to cup her cheek. She takes note of how sexy he looks with that devilish smirk on his lips. He slowly leans in until his face, or more specifically his lips were inches away. “Can I kiss you,” he asks softly. It looks like she got the answer to her many questions.

She doesn’t respond before closing the distance between them. Her hands automatically moved to the back of his neck. Butterflies swarmed her stomach when she felt his tongue lick her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She gladly accepted and, with his guidance, she moved to straddle his lap.

The sound of the doorbell is what breaks their heated kiss. Shawn raises his eyebrows in question as to who is at the door. “I ordered breakfast. I’ll be right back.” Y/N swings her leg up and over to get down from the bed. Just as she starts walking away, Shawn grabs her wrist lightly and turns her around. He pulls her in for a quick sweet peck to the lips and lets her leave to get their food.

His sweet gesture makes her giddy and smile like a lovesick idiot. How can she not when she was just kissing Shawn Mendes, hottie extraordinaire. She felt at peace for how things were turning out for her. She grabs her wallet off the counter to pay for the food. The impatient delivery man knocks again.

“Relax,” she says as she answers the door, “I’m right he- Harry?”

Since when did Harry Styles become a delivery man?!

#Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #solo harry #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #fwb!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles dabble #imagine #shanwmendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mended writing #shawn mendes #hazzmedicine

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latent-thoughts · 4 years

Text

The Pursuit of a Simple Life (Chapter 1 - PAC & Co.)

[Co-Authored with @emeraldrosequartz]

Rating : 18+ (there be lots of citrus here).

Warning: None

Pairing: Loki/Original Female Character

Summary: Three years after returning to Earth with the other Asgardians following Ragnarok, Loki finds himself working for SHIELD, truly just trying to fight the boredom. While on an undercover mission, he unexpectedly begins to fall for his co-worker, Gemma, and she seems to feel the same way…about Dave, his alter ego while in disguise. Can Loki continue a relationship with her while keeping his true identity a secret? How many lies can the ‘God of lies’ spin to keep his pursuit of a simple life?

[Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017); THOR IS A GOOD BRO AND TOTALLY NOT HOW HE WAS IN RAGNAROK, THNX; Infinity War Doesn’t Exist; Everyone lives]

_________________________________

IMPORTANT NOTES: Bold Text = Loki’s POV Normal Text = Gemma’s POV

_________________________________

Loki sat at his desk, going through a list of mundane tasks that he had to perform today. Most of them were meetings.

Those just bored him enough to make him contemplate another take-over of Midgard.

At least it would be an exciting endeavour!

But… Loki wasn’t the same as he was during the campaign of 2012. He had recovered and dealt with his demons, as the Midgardians would say. It also helped to not have a constant psychotic influence on his mind.

He still suffered from the consequences of his actions, though, in certain ways. But over all, he was faring well, if he’d say so.

After landing on Midgard, post destroying Asgard, Loki had tried to settle down with other Asgardians in New Asgard (still counted as part of Norway). But, that hadn’t really worked out for him.

Thor was their king now, and Loki just couldn’t stand being relegated to his brother’s shadow while he ruled. He had himself ruled Asgard for more than three years, and now, the demotion just rankled.

The issue was, Loki wanted to carve out a niche for himself, a space where he belonged, where he could not be held down by the stuffy Asgardian values.

Hence, one day, just weeks after landing on Midgard, he had shown up at Nicholas Fury’s office. The man had nearly ruptured a vein in his head upon seeing Loki there. That was fun.

But it had worked out in Loki’s favour in the end, for he had offered his services to SHIELD off his own volition, explaining - in great detail - how he felt responsible for the safety of Midgard.

Surprisingly, Thor had supported him in this endeavour when Fury had contacted him, entreating Fury to give Loki a chance, since he had recently rescued all of the Asgardians and been on ‘good behaviour’ ever since. He had a sneaking suspicion that Thor just wanted him off his back, since he wouldn’t stop nagging him about his kingly priorities and unwise administrative decisions.

For some reason, Fury hadn’t put up a lot of resistance, agreeing to take Loki in as an aid to SHIELD.

Hence, here he was… trying his best to do his job.

Well, not quite.

He was undercover, investigating PAC & Co., the company he was pretending to work for. This was, by far, his most boring assignment in the last three years of his association with SHIELD.

The only bright point seemed to be the pretty young woman who sat a few desks away, in just the right location for them to be able to look at each other from time to time.

Her name was Gemma…… he forgot her last name, for it was something of a tongue-twister. Ah, Spitznaegel.

She was easy on the eyes, and she wore those pretty short skirts to office, something an Asgardian lady would never do. Those lovely legs were a sight for sore eyes, a great distraction for a wandering mind.

“Dave, man, you got a meeting upstairs. The boss is already there,” someone called from behind him as he admired the woman, pulling him out of his reverie.

Ugh, he hated his undercover name.

“Yeah, going man.” He stood up and rushed off to the elevator, making sure to give Gemma a smooth smile as he went by her desk.

Gemma immediately slammed her hand over the doodle she had been working on when she realized that Dave might see it. She smiled back, hoping the blush she felt rising to her cheeks wasn’t too apparent. She was trying to be cute and flirty…but honestly she just hoped to God she didn’t come off as manic or overly excited or…anything that might make Dave think she was weird.

The doodle said “G+D”. It was really stupid and immature and something that a middle schooler would do…but this job was SO BORING. Any kind of creative outlet helped her get through her day. And daydreaming about the hunky new sales rep - with a British accent…. uuunnngggghhhh–seemed to be taking up more and more of her time.

After Dave passed by, she leaned back so she could look at his little cubicle - it was even smaller than hers, but he kept it impeccably tidy - everything had a home and it stayed there until he needed to use it, then it was immediately returned to its place. He wasn’t there often - as one of the Outside Sales Representatives, he was usually on the road, meeting with existing or potential clients who may have a need to buy any of the wide variety of cardboard packaging and janitorial supplies made by PAC & Co…

God, this job, this company, her life couldn’t be any more dull…

The one bright spot was this awkward, budding infatuation with her hot co-worker.

Suddenly, a little fire ignited in her gut. If I don’t like it, I have to do something about it… she thought. Before she could talk herself out of it, she ripped a clean sheet of paper off her notepad and wrote: “Drinks later? Call me - 231.555.6743. 💗 Gemma”

Then she immediately crumpled it up, threw it in the trash, and got another piece.

“Hey cutie, how about—”

Crumpled. In the trash. New sheet.

“Dave - would you like to get drinks with me sometime? Circle Yes or No.”

Gemma groaned and threw that one away too, then put her head down on her arms over her desk. What was the point? She’d just blow it anyway.

With a sigh, she went back to running the sales analytics.

An hour later, Loki came down to his floor, feeling quite stabby towards his so-called boss, Oliver. The man was an absolute twit, with no manners to speak of. He had literally wasted his last work hour in that stupid, meaningless meeting.

He’d never have spoken to him so high-handedly had he known Loki’s true identity.

And that was the rub–he had to keep his true identity completely hidden. Pretending to be someone else entirely.

He had done so in the past, and he knew he was quite good at it. But Norns, he had not done so for this long (well, except when he was playing Odin). It had already been more than three months in this stupid disguise of short golden hair, ocean blue eyes, and appropriately priced Midgardian clothes.

As he passed by Gemma’s desk, he saw her trying to furiously write something on her notepad. She was so preoccupied with it that she didn’t even look up.

Oh well…

Setting his office folder on the desk, he set about completing the rest of the tasks he had before calling it a day.

Once that was done, he remembered that he had to take out some prints for his sales meetings the next day. So he gave the printer the appropriate commands and then went off to fetch the prints from the corner cubicle dedicated to the enormous machine.

Most of the office was empty now, and it suited him just fine. He could use some solitude in this mad place.

At the end of the day, most people had already gone home. But…her program had crashed several times that day. IT didn’t respond to any of her calls or emails, and now she had to complete the analytics by hand before she could leave.

F. M. L….

Not to mention…she hadn’t really given up on writing that note to Dave. She was on her 32nd attempt when he walked by, leaving his meeting, and she hunched over trying desperately to look busy so he wouldn’t ask what she was doing…

Oh, you know, just trying to craft the perfectly written 10-word letter to see if you want to get drinks with me sometime. Please don’t talk to me, or I may vomit on your shoes from the nervous breakdown I’m about to have over it. Thank yooooou…

Her pencil tip snapped off. Of. Fucking. Course.

Gemma stood up and headed to the cubicle where the printer, the pencil sharpener, and all the other “shared” office supplies were. And she was pleasantly surprised/utterly horrified to see Dave waiting at the printer.

Don’t blow it don’t blow it don’t blow it…

She walked up and stuck her pencil in the sharpener without saying anything, and it loudly started grinding away at her pencil. Dave immediately jumped and looked at her, shocked by the sudden noise. Gemma just…smiled, feeling her face turn beet red.

“Uh-hum….sorryyyyy��.”

Oh God, kill me now…

Loki was pleasantly surprised to see that the disturbance in the supply-cum-printer cubicle was being caused by none other than his lovely colleague, Gemma.

She sweetly apologized to him for the noise, turning a pretty shade of red as he kept looking at her. Really, she was quite a fair maiden, and also, seemed to possess all the qualities of a lady of good breeding.

“It’s not your fault,” he replied, leaning against the printer as it churned out the prints for him. “These contraptions are far too noisy for their good, no?”

Oh God oh God oh God… Gemma’s stomach was in knots as she tried not to look like she might pass out. Come on…it’s just a person…HE’s just a person…you talk to people all the time, just open your mouth and SAY SOMETHING.

“Yea…yup…they sure are…”

GOD DAMNIT FUCK SHIT FUCKITY FUCK FUCK WHY?????

“So…um…whatcha printing?”

If he hadn’t been looking right at her, she would have facepalmed. Ugh…smooth, Gemma…

He smiled at her question, adding a bit of flirtation to his tone as he replied.

“I think you know what I’m printing, Gemma.” He licked his lips and watched her keenly as she turned redder still.

This was infinitely amusing. The girl was indeed attracted to him. Well… to his persona.

He licked his lips…HE LICKED HIS LIPS!!! Does that mean something? Is he flirting with me? Or are his lips just dry? Does he need chapstick? Should I offer him chapstick? Shit, it’s in my purse…should I offer to GET him chapstick?! WHAT THE HELL, GEMMA, HE DOESN’T NEED CHAPSTICK! STOP BEING WEIRD!

“Um…reports, I would assume?” Gemma kept her cool as best as she could. The pencil sharpener kept grinding away noisily as the printer churned out page after page. She tried to turn her attention to…well, anything other than his clear, blue eyes or that gorgeous stubble on his chin or his chiseled pecks she couldn’t help but notice through his button-up shirt with sleeves rolled up over his forearms that looked like they’d been crafted by Hephaestus himself…

She ended up staring at a worn bit of the carpet on the floor, but she couldn’t help looking up at him every few seconds.

He was quite disappointed that she pried her eyes from him. Mayhap she needed more… encouragement to talk?

“Smart girl,” he praised, crossing his arms as she fidgeted with the edge of her blouse. “I have a meeting tomorrow, so these are for that. Pitches and estimates, mostly. So tell me, what are you up to?”

Her heart pounded in her throat and her chest tightened.

Don’t say writing you letters…don’t say writing you letters...

“Writing…my mom…letters…?”

Suddenly, her fingertips touched the front of the pencil sharpener, and with a jolt she pulled her writing utensil from the device –it had been reduced to nothing more than a short, sharp stub.

“Oh…geez…” She looked at him, embarrassed, and the sudden silence without the grinding noise made her discomfort even more palpable.

“I’m…sorry. I’m finishing up some analytics - my computer crashed and I lost all my work and it needs to get done before I can leave, so I’m trying to do it by hand but now…” She held up the little nub of pencil. “I should probably be using a mechanical one anyway…”

Just then, a familiar and disturbing sound came from the printer…paper jam.

They both looked at the malfunctioning machine, and Gemma sprang into action.

“Oh! I can fix that. Happens all the time. I’m usually the one that has to deal with it so I’ll just—“

She unlatched the panel to the paper feed, but as soon as she opened it, a huge cloud of black toner shot out and covered her brand new blue blouse.

She froze, embarrassment taking over, and she looked up at him with terrified brown eyes, split between laughing at herself and crying in shame, but really waiting to see how he reacted before she did ANYTHING else…

Loki nearly burst into laughter upon seeing her present condition.

“Oh dear,” he said, biting his lip as he pulled the girl away from the printer. “I think you ought to rush to the washroom to try and clean that up. Do you need help?”

He deliberately added that last question to see her reaction. He was enjoying this far too much, even though the printer had malfunctioned and his work was stalled.

She almost sighed when he touched her. Oh, that contact was already more than she’d ever hoped for…even though she had to get attacked by office equipment for it to happen.

And the way he said “washroom” instead of “bathroom”… so charming! She almost swooned.

Then she remembered…he asked if she needed help…

“Uh….ah, no. Shit, I MEAN…um. It’s ok. I have my workout shirt in my gym bag…I’ll just go…put that on…”

With another nervous giggle and an apologetic smile, she excused herself from him, racing back to her desk, pulling her (thankfully clean) gym shirt out of her bag, and then power-walking down the hallway to the ladies room while calling back to Dave, “Be right back!”

He waved at her as she disappeared down the hallway, smirking to himself.

The girl was so nervous around him, it was endearing.

While she was gone, he fixed the printer himself–without any mishaps–and headed for his desk to give the print command again.

On his way, though, he stopped at Gemma’s desk and observed the chaos spread across it. The girl was quite disorganised, but then again, most Midgardians were.

He also took notice of her near overflowing trashcan, which was full of crumpled papers. He was going to simply roll his eyes and move on, but something caught his attention there.

On one of the unfurling crumpled paper, he saw his persona’s name, written in her messy scrawl.

That piqued his interest, and hence, he pulled the paper out of the can and read its contents.

And then he smiled mischievously.

Poor little Gemma wanted to get drinks with him… hmmm…

This could get interesting…

Pocketing that piece of paper, he left her desk and went about completing his prints.

Gemma came back soon after, looking rather awkward in that gym shirt of hers. It had the Avengers logo on it, at which Loki couldn’t help but groan.

Damn those annoying, self righteous imbeciles. At least Fury was honest about his less than savoury methods.

“So,” he said as he approached her at her desk, carrying his sheaf of prints, “are you done with your task? I was thinking we could have dinner together before heading home. What do you say?”

She almost - almost - lost it. Dave. THE Dave. Was asking her. If SHE. Wanted to get dinner.

She was fairly certain she wasn’t able to contain just a bit of surprised and half-elated laugh she instinctively made, but she caught just enough of it not to embarrass herself further. Her gym shirt embarrassed her plenty, with the faded Avengers logo emblazoned across her chest. She was outing herself as a huge nerd…

“I-ah…that would be great, but…well, I need to finish those analytics, and I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion anymore…”

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! He just asked YOU out! It’s not a date…it’s just co-workers getting dinner, that’s it. Casual. Cool. Nothing to freak out about…SAY YES!

“You know what? That sounds great. Yes, yea, let’s get dinner, Dave.”

She thought she might die. Dinner with Dave. Dave dinner. Dinner dinner dinner…with Dave.

“Um…where were you thinking? Hopefully not the Ritz…” She laughed too hard. And snorted.

He chuckled at her attempt at jesting.

“Perhaps one day, when I’m not weighed down by the burdens of my present situation… we’d go to the Ritz,” he replied, speaking plain truth cloaked in disguise. “But for today, I was thinking about this new pizza place, opened only a few blocks away. Do you like pizza, Gemma?”

He let his voice drop lower, making it sound as though he was asking about some dark secret, not pizza.

“I looove…pizza…” she said, finding herself lost in his eyes and realizing far too late that she wasn’t talking about pizza either.

She couldn’t move or talk or think or do anything except watch him…now that he was so close to her…

Oh. My. God. He IS flirting with me!!!

She swallowed hard, feeling her palms getting sweaty. She played with the hem of her shirt and fidgeted just a little bit, really unsure about what to do now…

“Then let’s go,” he said, offering her his hand.

In the back of his mind, he scolded himself for leading the poor girl on. He was, after all, a temporary presence in her life. He shouldn’t be making any personal connections on his missions.

He had been so strict about following that rule till date. He shouldn’t falter now.

Well, it’d just be this one-off dinner. Nothing else.

Soon, he’d expose the company he was employed in for its true crimes, and then he’d be on his way… soon to be put on another mission.

Gemma would just be a distant memory. And hopefully for Gemma, he’d be the memory of a pleasant distraction.

________________________________

[NEXT CHAPTER]

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lithalwrites · 4 years

Text

A University Story

It was the start of a new academic year, and there were new faces on campus. Fresh-faced students eager to fill the lecture halls and learn, make friends, and have a good time. And having a good time included exchanging all gossip that trickled down to them via the gossip ladder. There was always someone who had very good connections with upperclassmen, and that person always seemed to know all about everyone. It was advantageous, then, to be friends with that person. Or with someone who was friends with that person. After all, what is life without the excitement of knowing things about the personal lives of others.

One of the freshest and most exciting bits of gossip floating around was that there had been newly hired professors at the school, some of whom were quite young. And of course, with the promise of relative youth, there came a hope for something else.

“I hope the prof is hot,” said one student to another, and several others agreed.

“I’ve heard the new chemistry prof is really hot and also young,” another student piped up. “I hope I’m in his section. It’ll be a reason to go to class.”

“Which one? Dr. Kuroo? I’ve heard the same about him. I can’t wait for lecture. Only reason I’m looking forward to chem, honestly.”

“I heard he’s married, though.”

“I heard he was single.”

“I hope so.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’s married.”

“Yeah, and how do you know?”

“I saw him walking from the parking lot with his wife. She’s a prof in the department of pharmacology, and she was also hired at the same time as him.”

“Damn. I hope you’re wrong about it though.”

“Don’t we all.”

And so the gossip and the rumours flourished as the days passed and the first day of classes approached. The university had never seen this level of enthusiasm for a first year chemistry course. When the day came for the first lecture, every single seat in the lecture hall was filled, with the women vastly outnumbering the men, when Kuroo walked in.

He looked at the class, and beamed. “Welcome to Chemistry 101, everyone. I’m Tetsurou Kuroo, and I’ll be your instructor this term. I’ll answer to pretty much anything you want to call me, as long as it is not unprofessional.”

He was pleased with the attendance for his class, even though he hadn’t expected this large of a divide between men and women despite having been warned by the course coordinator. It would be an interesting story to share later.

Since it was the first lecture, he went through the course outline in detail, and started on a review of what his students should have already covered in high school.

“Does anyone have any questions before we end for the day?” he asked the class five minutes before the class was scheduled to end.

There was a beat of silence, and then a hand shot up. It was a cheeky looking student with a cheeky smile on her face. “Hi Dr. Kuroo. Are you single?”

“Ah,” Kuroo said. He was a little surprised that a student would ask that question so boldly in a full lecture hall. He could see several people lean forward in their seats in anticipation of the answer. “When I asked if anyone had any questions, I meant questions related to the course content. But just this once, I will entertain this question. I am not, in fact, single. And I will not be answering any more personal questions in class or during office hours. I would like to be your friend, but we have to remember that this is a professional setting.”

Having suitably responded to the nosy question, he told the class to have a nice day, and then headed to the computer science building. Since the fastest way to get to the computer science building was through the medical sciences building, that was what he chose, and found himself running into Shimizu.

“Oh, hello,” she said with a small wave. “Lunch?”

“Yup,” he answered. “Just had my first lecture. It went as well as it could have, really. Now it’s time to eat.”

“Are you done for the day, then?”

“I have to sit in my office and answer a few emails. I doubt any students will show up since it’s only the first day of class, but I have to be there anyway, just in case. No meetings today, so it’s going to be pretty boring. How about you?”

“I have my lecture in an hour, and then I get to take off for the day. We should get lunch together at some point,” she suggested.

“Sounds great,” Kuroo agreed. “Let me know when’s good for you.”

Shimizu nodded, and they headed their separate ways. The rest of his walk to the computer science building was uninterrupted, and soon he found himself in front of Kenma’s office. He knocked.

“Come in,” Kenma’s quiet voice answered. “Oh, it’s you.”

“I’d think you’d be more pleased to see me, everything considered. I’m hurt, Kenma,” Kuroo said, entering the office. He placed a lunchbox on the desk. “Here’s your lunch.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I forgot it,” Kenma said. “Thank you. How was class?”

“It was pretty good, all things considered. One of the students asked me if I was single at the end of class.”

Kenma raised his eyebrows. “What did you say?”

“That I’m not, and that I wouldn’t entertain any more personal questions. So hopefully that doesn’t happen again. Are you ready for your lecture?”

“Yeah. It should be fine. It’s just an intro lecture, and I’ve got my material ready.”

“That’s good.”

“Did you hear about that girl in chem 101 who asked the prof if he was single?”

“For real? What did the prof say?”

“He answered the question, but also told us not to ask more personal questions.”

“Probably a good idea. What was his answer though?”

“He’s not single.”

“To be expected, I guess. But sad. So do we know if he’s actually with one of the other profs?”

“Bets are on Dr. Shimizu from pharmacology still. I saw them talking in the hallway.”

“They could just have been…talking, you know? Like colleagues do.”

“Yes, but they’re in completely different departments.”

“True.”

“But there’s more investigation to be done.”

“Shimizu invited us for dinner with her. Are you good with tomorrow evening after work?” Kuroo asked Kenma a week later. The lunch plans had turned to dinner plans, since Shimizu was dealing with problems with how her course was being run.

“Ah,” Kenma said. “I have a meeting with my teaching assistants tomorrow evening. You two can go ahead without me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll join some other time.”

“Okay, I’ll let her know then.”

“It’s for sure Dr. Shimizu.”

“Hmm?”

“That Dr. Kuroo is married to. Someone saw them having dinner at a restaurant downtown.”

“Oh. Interesting.”

“Knock knock,” Kuroo said, knocking on Kenma’s office door.

“Come in, Kuro,” Kenma answered, sounding fondly exasperated.

“Here’s your coffee,” Kuroo said, plopping down the coffee on Kenma’s desk.

“Thanks. I needed that. There’s so many kids coming to my office hours. I don’t even know why. It’s only been two weeks.”

“It’s because they love you,” Kuroo said. He opened his mouth again, but Kenma interrupted him.

“Don’t say it.”

“Awww,” Kuroo said, but complied. “I should get back to my office. I have a meeting with a student soon.”

“Dr. Kuroo spends a suspicious amount of time with that compsci prof.”

“Which one?”

“The new one.”

“What’s suspicious about it?”

“I’ve seen them have lunch together, get coffee, and sometimes they even leave together. I park in the same lot as Dr. Kuroo, and I’ve seen them get in the same car multiple times.”

“Aren’t you being a little too nosy?”

“Yes, but what if he’s cheating on Dr. Shimizu with the compsci prof?”

“That’s quite the accusation. And we don’t even know for sure that he and Dr. Shimizu are married.”

“Yes, but I’m pretty sure they are.”

“I sat in on a compsci lecture with my friend, and the prof dropped something. Guess what it was?”

“I don’t know. Tell me.”

“It was a wedding ring! On a chain. It must’ve not been clasped properly. But it was most definitely a wedding ring.”

“So he’s married. What’s your point?”

“That means, if he and Dr. Kuroo are having an affair, they’re both cheating on their spouses.”

“You picked a really nice restaurant,” Kenma said, looking around at the place Kuroo had chosen for the night.

“Thanks. The food is supposed to be really good, so I hope it lives up to the hype.”

“I’m sure it will.”

“Don’t worry, I also baked apple pie for later.”

Kenma smiled. “Excellent.”

They ordered their food, and chatted about various things as they waited. When the server showed up with the food and placed it in front of them, she didn’t leave right away. In fact, she looked like she had something to say to them. Kuroo looked up at her.

“Is something wrong?”

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I feel like I can’t not say something.”

“Okay?” Kuroo said, exchanging a confused glance with Kenma. “What is this about?”

“I’m in your chemistry class, and this is very inappropriate, sir!” the server said, gesturing vaguely.

“I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand. What’s inappropriate?” Kuroo asked, even more confused.

“Cheating on your spouse!” the server said, looking distressed.

Kuroo was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You’re both married!”

“Yes,” said Kuroo slowly. “We are.”

“But you’re on a date with each other,” the server said.

“Yes,” Kuroo said.

The server flailed again, as if they should see what the problem was. “But you’re both married!”

“Yes,” Kenma spoke up. “To each other.”

The server blinked. “What?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Kuroo said. “We’re here to celebrate our wedding anniversary.”

The server turned red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you to your dinner. Happy anniversary.” With that, she walked away as quickly as possible without actually running away. Kuroo had a feeling that they would have a different server for the rest of their meal.

“That was something,” Kenma said.

“It certainly was. It’ll be quite the story to tell people,” Kuroo laughed. “Happy anniversary, Kenma.”

#kurokenweek2020 #kuroken week #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kozume Kenma #haikyuu!!#university au

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pbandjesse · 4 years

Text

I just got done having a weird conversation with a radio's facebook presence. They apparently got hacked or something and sent a bunch of people messages but I was the first one to respond and I was half joking that they were accusing me of something and then we realized the first messages werent showing up on their side and it was a whole thing. Strange. And now there is a very big storm that just started so I will probably go and pick up James after I get this posted. Well see what James says but I am pretty sure thats what will happen.

I had a pretty nice day overall though. My skin was really bad today. It started feeling bad last night. But I have my doctor's appointment tomorrow, Its a phone call but I hope she can get me on a new medication or something. Because topicals arent cutting it and its got me pretty miserable.

I woke up and got dressed and felt cute. I forgot to take my picture before I left apparently and so you get a nice messy and sweaty Jesse picture. But whatever. I left here and got stuck in a lot of traffic. I was just sitting on 83 behind an accident for 15 minutes, but I was pleased how well everyone was letting eachother in, zipper style, to get through the left lane, while the 4 car accident was blocking everything else.

But then not a minute down the road there is another accident in the left lane! One car was completely sideways and the 2 women drivers were crouched in the road, it looked like they were trying to comfort eachother. Thankfully, of the accidents I saw today, no one seemed physically hurt.

I got to camp around 8. Much later than normal but it was fine. And I had a nice day. My rainboots continue to fall apart. They held on for so long. But the new ones wont be here until like the 10th. They have ducks with umbrellas on them though so they will be worth the wait.

I got all the groups their theme boxes. They made pet rocks today. And I did some cleaning. I went to the office to offer some help. And was sent to the pool house to look for any left over supplies. There wasnt a lot so I also just did some light cleaning and organized the chairs.I was pretty overheated though. Which was annoying. Because it wasnt like warm. It was just humid. Very humid.

I was also a little overwhelmed because it was Jess's first day of pastry school and apparently it didnt go great. She had to be there at like 6am because those are bakery hours. And she texted me after just so super upset. And I felt very helpless. She has a meeting with the dean tomorrow and I really hope it goes well. I hate not being able to help her. Its painful for me to just hear all this bad. She couldnt even tell me any good she was so upset. So just send her some positive vibes that things improve.

I ran trading post again. And it went pretty well. I was slightly annoyed with some personalities that I find grating. But it was still a nice time.

I had my group of older kids and it went so smoothly. They made their squares and hung out in the hammocks and made bracelets. We talked about cults. It was just a nice time.

Once they left and I cleaned up I spent some time doing som research for Jess, chef shoes with ankle support, and what disability services at a culinary school might look like. We also brain stormed a little about accommodations the school could maybe make. And joked that she could just sue the school if they dont help make the accommodations and use the money to just open a bakery.

I spent the rest of the day cleaning and organizing and lounging and reading. The bees were out really bad today so I had to leave my hammock and move inside. But soon it was 4 and I was getting ready to close up and head to the office.

When I got down there I asked to change up the schedule for tomorrow so I could have my doctor phone call and not be worried about my group. I was sitting on the porch checking my emails when I realized I had an access art email asking if I was interested or available to come back this fall. And I had to say no. I just cant, I was so miserable last year. Even if the money is good it wasnt worth how emotionally hard it was on me.

But I was annoyed that they were still asking me for receipts. Receipts I thought we dealt with in March. Ones that I told them that if they didnt have them I sure as hell didnt have them. And some of these purchases I dont even think I made, so I told him to check in with Marcus and Tiffany first because I had no idea. And that I will fill out the form again but I have no receipts to give him. I just find it really annoying that we have had this same conversation approximately 5 times. And just cements me not wanting to come back. It stresses me out to much, all the extra stuff around teaching that involved computers. I dont like working on computers. Beyond typing I just dont want to fill out spread sheets or forms or write the same thing 5 times for 4 different reasons. I hate it.

I just wanted to go home though. My head was hurting and I was annoyed. So off I went. I had an easy ride home and got back here around 530. I found Mr Will shirtless in the hallway and he was all embarrassed but he was working on the roof and it was hot. Understandable.

I went inside and made dinner. SweetP was being really needy. I just wanted to lay on the couch. I played a little animal crossing and watched some videos. I did the dishes and took a shower, stretched for a little while, and now I am just chilling. I went out on the fire escape for a couple minutes because there was a cop car outside. But they left and now I am just going to scroll on my phone until either James tells me I need to come get him or he comes home. Whatever comes first.

Tomorrow I hope is just a good and nice day. Its supposed to keep storming. But I hope its still fun. And you all sleep well. Goodnight everyone! Be safe!

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mss4msu · 5 years

Text

Call Me Doctor. (Chapter 15)

Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.

Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader

Words: 3166

Warnings: Feelings

A/N: I have a lot of feelings from seeing Endgame, so there’s a lot of goofiness in this chapter and some ties to the Avengers because I need that. The chapter is real long because I have a lot of feelings and it’s been awhile. This chapter was supposed to happen in October, but then life happened. I started drafting it at Christmas and then wrote more on Mardi Gras, and then planned to release it before Easter, but here we are. Happy almost Free Comic Book Day and May the Fourth. (Please just pretend it’s Halloween bbs)

Catch Up On the Story Here

You spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze. Every time you tried to concentrate on something work-related, your mind went to Steve; the sweetness of his smile, the warmth of his hands, the passion in his kisses. You shook your head, trying to get Steve out of it.

“Order and organization, that’s what I need,” You said to yourself, pulling out your planner and a pen.

You hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out what to put. You thought of writing “Brunch with Steve,” but that didn’t seem to capture the emotions you were sure both of you had felt.

First Date with Steve - you wrote. You wanted to dot the “i” with a heart, but talked yourself out of it in fear of anyone ever finding and reading your planner.

You looked back through the previous weeks. It had been almost 2 months since you had been at the university. Almost 2 months since you had met Steve. It felt like much longer, which you attributed to the academic bubble; regardless of how much time passed in the “real world” the stress of academia always made it feel 10x longer. Of course Steve’s mood changes had also made time drag on. You flipped to the week to come and your heart began to beat rapidly.

“Oh shit!” you yelled to yourself.

Saturday, October 31st - It was written in black and orange on the page and you had even doodled a witch’s hat and ghost next to it.

“How could I forget my favorite holiday???” you scolded yourself.

You frantically got up and rushed to the closet in your hallway. You found your tub of decorations and carried it into the living room. You pulled out cobwebs and witches’ hats and little skeletons. You unwrapped jack-o-lantern lights and laid them on the floor next to the tub. You went back to the closet and moved all the coats around until you found it; the piece de resistancé, a Mummy scarecrow. You frantically ran around your apartment hanging everything up, taking it down, and hanging it again in a different spot because it looked better. It took two hours for you to finally accept the placement of everything. You sat on the couch and admired your decorations. Although the apartment had already begun to feel like home, having all of your decorations up solidified the feeling.

You pulled your computer out of your bag and opened your email. You typed all of your colleagues names into the “To:” section and made the subject for the email “Sorry for the Late Notice: Halloween Party!”

Dear All,

Sorry for the late notice, I’ve been so focused on the museum project that it completely slipped my mind that Halloween is a week from today. You are all welcome to my humble abode on Saturday to celebrate all things spooky. Haunted happenings will begin at 7:00pm. Costumes are encouraged! Plus ones are of course welcome too!

See you Monday,

(Y/N)

Your finger was still pushed down from clicking send when your computer dinged with a new email notification. Your heart pounded as you looked at the sender and opened the response.

I look forward to attending.

--Steve

You reread his email a few times, your heart sinking slightly, as you figured Steve would show more emotion after your date, at least what you thought had been a date. But looking at the time stamp of his email bolstered you back up. Steve was notorious for never responding to emails, so to have a response immediately after sending you knew was special.

You spent the rest of the weekend going through your cookbooks to find the perfect spooky snacks, perfecting your Halloween playlist, and going through your tub of costumes to find the perfect choice for the weekend. You put on a few scary movies as you worked to set the mood.

Monday morning, you were in a fantastic mood. You had in your candy corn earrings and were wearing your pumpkin socks under your dress pants. You got to your office to find it unlocked. You walked in to see Steve and James intently staring at Steve’s computer screen.

“What are you two up to?” you asked as you sat down at your desk and pulled your computer from your bag to review your powerpoint before class.

“Nothing,” Steve grunted, his cheeks turning red.

“Just prepping for this weekend,” James smiled slyly at you.

You grinned, “Doing some costume shopping?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” James winked at you, “Alright, place the order Stevie, I’ve got to go to class. I’ll leave you two to have some alone time.” He raised his eyebrows at you as he stood to leave the room. “Oh, and I almost forgot!” He put his hand in his bag and pulled out a picture frame, “I got you both a new office decoration!” He turned the frame around and you saw the zoomed in photo he had taken of you and Steve in the coffee shop.

“Buck,” Steve growled, getting up and going towards his friend.

“See you later!” James put the frame on the table and quickly ran out of the office.

Steve went to the table and picked up the picture frame, “It’s actually not a bad picture,” he said, his voice softening now that you two were alone.

“May I see it?” you asked, walking over to him.

He handed it to you, and you felt a shiver as your hands brushed each other. It actually was a cute picture, the two of you cuddled up on the couch together.

“Do you want it?” Steve asked you.

“Oh, um, I mean…” you were caught off guard, unsure of what the right answer was. “Yes?”

“Was that a question?”

“I mean, of course I want it! But I only want it if you don’t. James is your friend first, so if you want it you should have it, but of course I would love to take it if you don’t.”

“You should take it, (Y/N). I can just have him print me another.”

You smiled up at Steve, “Thanks.”

The rest of the week seemed to drag on, which you knew was because you were so looking forward to the weekend to celebrate the most glorious of all holidays. Friday night came and you began to prep food for the party. You peeled grapes and put them in the freezer to serve as eyeballs in the witches’ brew punch. You made little witch hats out of Oreos and Hershey’s Kisses that you then encircled with little bands of colorful frosting. Saturday morning you got up and began to bake. You dyed breadstick dough green and shaped it into fingers, placing an almond in as a fingernail. You then got out hot dogs and crescent roll dough and cut arms and legs into the hot dogs before wrapping them in strips of dough to make mummies. Once the baking was complete, you did all the dishes so the counters wouldn��t be cluttered.

You looked at the clock and realized you only had 3 hours before everyone was set to arrive and you were a mess of dough and dishwater. You hopped in the shower, got out, and dried your hair. You did your makeup and curled your hair into big waves. You decided you’d wait until right when people arrived to put your costume on, as you didn’t want to be sitting around in it for longer than you had to. It was a great looking costume, but it wasn’t the most comfortable.

You saw that there was just an hour left until everyone arrived, so you went back into the kitchen to begin setting everything out. You set the table with all of the food and were impressed with yourself with how it had all turned out. With just a half hour until people arrived, you decided to mix up the witches’ brew. You put lime sherbert, sprite, lime-flavored vodka, and some sparkling grape juice into a large plastic cauldron on your table. You then added in the frozen grapes and some gummy worms.

With just 10 minutes to go until 7pm, you decided it was time to get into costume. You made sure the corset was laced properly and used the side-zipper to get your top on. You were hesitant about the hot-pants of your costume, but figured you could just have a blanket around you if you felt embarrassed. You put on your bracelets and secured the crown onto your head. Just as you were putting on your boots, you heard the buzz of the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Hi, (Y/N). It’s getting very crowded down here!” you heard Natasha’s voice and the clamoring of other voices around her.

“Then you all better come in,” you laughed, buzzing them in.

Moments later, there was a knock on the door. You swung it open and saw a very full hallway filled with your costumed coworkers.

“Welcome!”

“Thanks, (Y/N)! Ooh, James is going to be pissed,” she laughed as she looked at your costume, but she quickly changed the subject before you could ask why, “I brought some wine that had a spooky looking label, where would you like it?” Natasha asked as she walked in. She was dressed as Indiana Jones and you saw Bruce behind her, dressed as Lara Croft.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Bruce said without making eye contact as he followed Natasha into the apartment. He looked slightly embarrassed of his costume, as he kept tugging the shorts down, so you knew Natasha had convinced him to wear it.

“Ahhh, (Y/N), you look hot af,” Wanda said hugging you, “I’m so happy to have another person with such an affinity for the supernatural.”

“Did you just finish The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina?” you asked her, seeing her platinum curled wig and the black dress with a white collar.

“Yes and it was amazing!”

“Yes, Sabrina was absolutely fantastic,” Vis said sarcastically, stepping forward from behind her. He was dressed as a black cat, complete with a little tail.

“Salem?” you asked with a laugh.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Vis replied.

“Oh, shut up!” Wanda pushed him into the apartment. “Also, I brought some ghost-shaped cookies!” she yelled as she walked away.

“I have come stag!” Thor proclaimed as he walked through the doorway.

“And dressed as the god of thunder!” you proclaimed right back. You were relieved he hadn’t brought Loki, as you hadn’t spoken to his brother since your date with Steve.

“I’ve had this costume for years. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Thor grinned as he went to the living room.

“Pepper! Long time no see!” you said as Tony and Pepper entered the apartment.

“Which one of us are you talking to?” Tony asked. He and Pepper were dressed in salt and pepper suits, and Tony was dressed as pepper.

“Tony thought it would be funny to be me for Halloween,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s amazing,” you laughed.

“Thank you,” Tony grinned.

“Please, don’t validate him,” Pepper sighed as she and Tony went to the living room.

“(Y/N), hi,” Clint said as he walked in, “This is my wife, Laura.”

“Hi, Laura, so nice to meet you! I hope everything is going well with the new baby.”

“It is a lot,” Laura smiled, “So thank you for this opportunity to get out of the house.”

“I see you’re both dressed in the appropriate costumes for it though!” you replied, seeing they were dressed as Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl.

“We decided this year’s family costume would be Incredibles themed since there are five of us now,” Clint grinned.

“That is truly amazing. Please, come on in.”

You looked out into the hallway, but saw that it was empty. Your heart started to race in anticipation, but given that they were so late last time you hosted a party, you tried to calm yourself down. As you closed the door, the intercom buzzed.

“Hello?” you thought your heart was going to pound out of your chest.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Steve’s voice came through the intercom.

You buzzed them in before he could say anything else and what felt like an eternity later you heard a knock on your door.

You yanked the door open and saw Steve and James standing in the hallway. Steve was dressed as Superman, his blonde hair slicked back except for a small curl on his forehead. James stood next to him, dressed as Batman.

“What the hell (Y/N)!” James exclaimed, looking you up and down, “We were trying to do a couple’s costume and you made it weird by having us look like a throuple now!”

You smoothed the Wonder Woman corset over your stomach and anxiously adjusted your crown, “I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were planning to do a couple’s costume together.”

“It’s FINE,” James huffed as he stormed past you.

“We do a couple’s costume every year,” Steve shrugged his shoulders. He looked you up and down, “You look amazing, (Y/N).”

You blushed, “Thanks, Steve. So do you.”

Steve walked into your apartment and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before going into the living room.

You waited a second for your heart rate to decrease before joining the group. You could hear James grumbling about his ruined costume plans.

“(Y/N), this food is fantastic!” Thor rumbled from the couch.

“And this punch is disgusting and I love it!” Wanda beamed.

“The decorations are amazing,” Natasha said, looking around. “This apartment isn’t that big, where did you store them?”

“I prioritize holiday decorations over all else. I think I own more costumes than I do regular clothes.”

“Then why don’t you go change,” you heard James grumble under his breath.

Steve came and sat next to you with a full plate of food, “Just ignore him,” he whispered to you.

You gave Steve a half smile in reply.

The night continued to be eventful. Wanda shared spooky stories she had encountered in her research. Steve educated everyone about the history of using superhero outfits as costumes for Halloween. Thor choked on a grape. And when “Thriller” came on the playlist, everyone tried their best to do the original dance. James eventually forgave you and decided documentation of you, Steve, and himself in your superhero costumes was necessary and subsequently forced everyone into a photoshoot. Bruce and Vis were not happy with him.

“Well, I think it’s time for us to relieve the sitter,” Clint said, taking a final drink of punch as Laura yawned and stood up.

“Mind if we hitch a ride back home with you?” Natasha asked, pulling Bruce up off the couch.

“We drove you here, it’s not like we would just leave you,” Clint replied, groaning as he stood.

“Didn’t stop you from leaving me that time in Budapest,” Natasha snarked back.

“You and I remember Budapest very differently,” Clint laughed.

“Pepper, are you ready to go home?” Pepper asked Tony.

“Yes, dear. And thank you for FINALLY accepting the costume,” Tony grinned.

“We should probably go as well,” Wanda said, “I have some...things...to attend to at home.”

“Wait, she isn’t actually a witch is she?” you couldn’t help but ask Vis.

“I don’t feel comfortable answering that question,” Vis sighed.

“Well, Steve, should we go too?” James asked.

“Um...yes...I guess we should? Unless (Y/N) needs help cleaning up?” Steve directed the questions at you.

“I think I can manage it,” you replied, your heart fluttering.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, looking deep into your eyes.

James realized what was happening, “Steve, you know what, maybe you should stay behind and help (Y/N) clean up. I’ll see you tomorrow buddy.”

You said goodbye to everyone and shut the door with a sigh.

“What can I help you with?” Steve asked from behind you, startling you, as you had forgotten he was still there.

“Um, I really just have to put the leftover food in tupperwares and then clean out the punch cauldron. You really don’t have to stay if you have other things to do.”

“You want to break apart the two strongest members of the Justice League?” Steve asked, stepping closer to you.

“I mean, Wonder Woman is definitely the strongest, but I think Batman is actually….”

Steve stopped your words with a kiss, pushing you against the front door. You tried to put your arms around him, but your hands got tangled in his cape and you couldn’t help but start laughing.

“Let’s clean up first, Superman,” you walked into the kitchen, grabbed tupperware containers, and filled them before putting the leftovers in the fridge. Steve poured out the dregs of the cauldron and began to wash it. You filled the dishwasher with plates and cups and straightened up the pillows on the couch.

Steve dried his hands off on a towel and joined you in the living room, “You know, last time I was here you said I could take a look around. Is it possible to get a personal tour?”

“I’d be happy to,” you smiled, “Let’s start at the front door?” You took his hand and led him to the door. “So this is the hallway, it leads everywhere. To the right is the kitchen, straight ahead is the living room/dining room combo, and up there to the left are the bathroom and bedroom.”

“How practical.”

You pulled him to the right, “Here is the kitchen, I believe you’ve been in here before. And if we walk forward we have the dining room and the living room, which are actually just one big room.”

“What a lovely set-up you have here. Brilliantly decorated.”

You blushed, “Then if we go around this way,” you walked him to the hallway again, “We go down a smaller hallway and we have the bathroom on the left,” you opened the bathroom door and flicked on the light, “complete with a Halloween pumpkin soap and all your regular bathroom furnishings. And on the right,” your breath hitched, “Is the bedroom.”

You hesitated for a second before opening the door to the bedroom. You took a deep breath, opened the door, and turned on the light.

“Here in the bedroom, we have the closet, and a dresser, and the,” you gulped, “bed.”

You watched Steve’s eyes roam around the room, and you were thankful you had thought to clean it this morning while the mummies were baking. Steve cleared his throat and you saw he was staring at the picture frame on your nightstand.

“Oh, um, I can explain that,” your heart was racing and you had no idea how you were actually going to explain it.

Steve’s hand tightened around yours and he gently pulled you onto the bed with him, “You don’t have to,” he whispered in your ear before kissing you passionately.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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