#dude i should i have kept a timer on how long it took me to answer this ask | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

Hi! I love your writing so much! My request is just more of Eddie's water exposure therapy! I'd love to see Robin and Steve help and see how things play out. If not, that's totally cool too! Thanks for sharing your writing in the first place!

THANK YOU!!! You know what is super funny is I was working on this when you sent the other request yesterday. I loved exploring more of this post, and I think maybe I could keep doing so if I have time someday. I hope you love it! - Mickala ❤️

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Eddie was committed to getting through this, he was.

It’s just that he hadn’t really thought about how fucking difficult it would be to have to do it with Nancy.

Nancy was strong-willed and badass and if Eddie was ever gonna be interested in women, it would be Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler.

But sometimes, like today, he needed someone soft. Someone who was okay with taking things slow.

She knew something was off the moment she walked in the door, but she didn’t comment on it until he was hovering by the sink in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can do it today.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not a good day.”

“Sometimes those are the days you need to push yourself most.”

“And sometimes I just need a break! We’ve been doing this for five days. I’m tired.”

He was tired. And he was frustrated. He had a setback one day three that he still hadn’t completely recovered from and he barely slept last night and Wayne forgot to save him the leftovers he wanted so it was just a shit day.

“What if I get Robin?”

“I don’t see how that will help.”

“Sometimes a small change can help. She already said she’d do whatever you need.”

“Does she realize I’m naked? I feel like she must not know I’m naked. I don’t even think she’s seen Steve naked, and they practically live up each others’ assholes.”

“Thanks for that image.” Nancy shook her head as if she could shake the image out and forget it was ever there. “So. Robin or me?”

“Robin.”

And despite Eddie being kind of convinced that Robin wouldn’t actually come, she did. And she brought him gummy bears as a reward.

Nancy didn’t give him rewards.

Maybe Robin should be in charge.

Nancy went over things with Robin again, explained that today was a full minute under the water, that he had to be fully submerged except for his head, and that he did have to be naked.

“Well. If I must see a dude’s junk, I guess I’m glad it’s yours.”

“Gee, thanks, Robin,” he said as he stripped.

If he thought too much about it, he’d lock himself in his room and just never shower again.

But Robin turned away as he stripped to give him some semblance of privacy and he was grateful.

Nancy waited in the hall, said she’d be there if they needed her, but would rather keep it to just one of them in the bathroom with Eddie.

Robin turned the water on.

“You like hot or warm?”

“Hot.”

“Good. Give it a minute.”

The water hitting the shower floor was apparently enough to have him losing his shit today. He tensed up and waited with a towel wrapped around him, watching as Robin kept testing the temperature of the water every ten seconds.

Finally, she smiled at him and nodded.

“Do you want me to talk or just count in my head?”

“Usually Nancy just counts out loud.”

“Does that help?”

“It doesn’t not help.”

“Would something else be better?”

“Uh. I guess try talking?”

“You got it.” Robin opened the bathroom door for a moment, said something, then closed the door again.

“Nancy’s got a kitchen timer ready to start when I knock on the door. You ready?”

“No, but I have to be.”

“I got all day.”

It did help to hear that. He knew, logically, no one would rush him, but sometimes he was worried that they’d give up on him if he took too long.

Like, he knew he was already pushing his luck just having them around for his everyday theatrics, so this was just icing on the cake.

But Robin didn’t make him feel like he had to worry about that and that already helped.

It’s not that Nancy rushed him, it’s just that she was a very straight to the point person. In or out. Shit or get off the pot.

Robin was the opposite in a lot of ways.

More of a, we’ll get there when we get there and we’ll stop to look at flowers on the way, kind of person.

She just watched as he stood by the shower, playing with his hair.

He took a deep breath, dropped the towel, and got in.

“Alright, good! You let me know when you’re in the water and I’ll knock and start chatting.”

Eddie could do this. He could.

So he did.

“In.”

He heard Robin knock as he clenched his teeth together and felt the water run down his shoulders and back.

Robin had picked the perfect temperature, not scalding, but hot enough to leave his skin pink. Just like he liked it.

“That’s how Steve likes his baths, which I tell him all the time is why he gets so lightheaded. You’re cooking yourselves. I’m realizing that I might be the emotional support bathing bestie. I sit with Steve when he has baths and now you with the shower. Is this all I’m good for?”

Eddie let out a strangled laugh.

It was helping, but he was still struggling to focus on anything except how stifling the water felt, how the steam building around him was starting to feel too much like fog and the drops were feeling too much like his own blood spattering on his body.

“Time?” He managed to croak out.

“Nance! Time?”

“20 seconds!”

“That’s not bad! Tell me your favorite Metallica song right now.”

He knew the answer. He opened his mouth to do it, but couldn’t say anything.

“Eddie? You okay?”

He tried to speak again, but it was just a whimper.

The water was too much.

He jumped out of the shower, nearly knocking Robin over in his escape.

He was shivering, though his skin was hot to the touch from the water, and Robin was already recovering and wrapping his towel around him.

Nancy was opening the door, worried eyes peeking around the corner.

“Listen to my voice, Eddie. Take in a deep breath. Slowly.”

It was easy to listen to Robin.

She didn’t hesitate to wrap him up in her arms, rubbing her hands up and down his back as he tried to breathe.

Nancy was standing in the doorway, not saying or doing anything, just a silent presence there to assist if needed.

He could feel Robin’s heart beating hard in her chest, so hard it felt like it was trying to jump into his chest.

But he was calming down now.

He pulled away and sat down on the floor, towel still loosely wrapped around him.

Robin shut off the shower, quickly joining him on the floor and waving Nancy away.

“You’re good at this.”

“Well, somebody has to be there for Steve when he’s having a bad day. I’ve gotten plenty of practice.”

“Is he this bad?”

“Oh, on his real bad days, he’s worse. And yes, you absolutely should hold that over him. Maybe then he’ll accept help from someone other than just me.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, smiling when she rested her head on his.

“You should have him come help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? Because you have a big stupid crush on him?”

“Why, yes, Robin. That’s exactly why.”

He knew she was rolling her eyes, but he didn’t care.

“You’re both so stupid, it gives me a stomach ache.”

Eddie didn’t think about what she said, just sat in silence as she started playing with his fingers.

“Want me to come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, please.”

————

Robin came back for three days in a row, and Eddie managed to stay under the water until the timer went off every time.

He was scared to think about what would happen if he started to fail again.

But with Robin constantly talking his way through it, he couldn’t worry for long.

————

“Eddie.”

Oh no.

Robin’s voice was so scratchy, and dull, and not Robin.

She was sick.

Nancy wasn’t available today or tomorrow.

He couldn’t do this alone.

“It’s okay, Robs. I’ll…call Steve.”

“Good. Sorry again.”

She didn’t sound nearly as sorry as when he first answered the phone, but it wasn’t worth arguing about.

He paced the floor of his room for nearly ten minutes before he gave in and just dialed Steve’s number.

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

“Oh, you have one of those homes. Gross.”

“Eds!”

“Hey, Stevie.”

Eddie knew his face was doing that stupid smile he only did for Steve, a combination of fond and content that he’d never been able to give anyone else.

“Everything good?”

“Well, kinda no?”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked quickly, his tone changing from casual excitement to concern.

“You remember what Nancy told you about the uh…exposure therapy?”

“Yeah, how’s that going?”

Eddie sighed. Steve was so fucking nice all the time. It wasn’t fair.

“It’s not terrible. Robin’s helped for a few days. But uh.”

“What is it?”

“Robin’s sick and Nancy’s out of town. I can’t skip a day, especially not when I’ve been on a roll, ya know? So I was wondering if maybe, and you can say no I’ll do it alone if I have to, maybe you’d be willing to come play therapist?”

That wasn’t so hard. It was awkward, certainly, but not too bad.

“I’ll be right over,” Steve said quickly and hung up.

Eddie didn’t mean right this second necessarily, Jesus.

But if Steve wanted to help this badly, then who was he to stop him from rushing over?

And rush he did.

It wasn’t 15 minutes later that Steve was at his door.

“Where’s the fire, man?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Eddie smiled at him. “Do you remember what Nancy said about all this?”

“Yeah. How long are you up to?”

“Minute and a half. Or I have to turn the water on and adjust the temperature myself and do a minute. But I don’t wanna try something new today, so minute and a half it is.”

Steve nodded along, but Eddie swore he looked nervous. Like he was hesitant to even be here. He needed to offer him an out.

“Listen, I can just wait. Skipping a day or two isn’t really gonna make a big difference in the long run.”

“No!” Steve suddenly shouted. “No. I want to help. I want to be here for you.”

“Oh,” Eddie looked down at his feet, hoping it would hide the blush on his cheeks. “Okay then.”

So he led Steve to the bathroom. He set the kitchen timer but didn’t start it yet.

Steve was standing by the shower, shifting his weight between his legs anxiously. He looked more nervous than Eddie even felt.

“Nancy and Robin usually turn the water on and make sure it’s hot for me. Robin said it’s like how you like it?”

“Got it.”

He turned to the faucets, adjusting them for a few seconds and then pulling back as he waited for the water to heat up.

“You can strip, I’ll turn around.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

Eddie knew he sounded ridiculous.

You’ve taken showers before, idiot.

But the difference here was that Steve was about to be here to see him at his weakest, at least emotionally. And he’d be naked.

Going off of how much Nancy and Robin had to see of him, Steve would be getting an eyeful too.

“You okay?”

Eddie shook himself out of his thoughts.

“I’m okay. Sorry.”

He threw his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants before he could overthink it.

Steve had seen most of him when he was helping change his bandages after the bats snacked on him. It wasn’t a big deal.

Steve at least pretended to be paying more attention to the water and floor as he pulled his legs from his pants and slid his boxers off.

“Water’s good. You ready?”

Steve looked at his face, clearly avoiding any chance of seeing anything below the waist.

Probably locker room courtesy or something, though if you asked him, making eye contact was way more intimate than accidentally seeing someone else’s dick.

“Ready.”

Steve moved to the sink as he got in, probably grabbing the kitchen timer to start it the second he got under the water.

It took him a minute, the hot water hitting his toes gently.

But he took a deep breath, turned his back to the stream, and backed into the water.

“I’m in.”

The first part was getting easier to do, he’d admit that. It was easier to stay in the moment while the water first started hitting him, easier to speak for the first 15 or so seconds before he was completely soaked.

But then it was quiet. He couldn’t hear anything except the water beating down on him and the shower floor.

Steve wasn’t saying anything and Eddie didn’t know how to ask him to.

He didn’t want to sound needy, Steve was already giving up time out of his day to be here at all.

How long had it been? Probably not that long.

It felt like years.

The water was the perfect temperature, and that kind of helped him remember this was a shower, not the end of the fucking world.

The end of the world doesn’t care about your comfort.

Steve does though.

But after another ten or so seconds, the buzzing in his ears got louder, he could feel his body shaking as if the water had suddenly turned ice cold, and the thoughts rushing through his head were more memories he wished he could forget.

He still felt the water, but it wasn’t water anymore. It was blood and bats and doctor’s hands trying to just stop the bleeding.

And then he felt actual hands on him, a body against him pushing him so the water was barely touching him.

He took a gasping breath and collapsed against them.

Steve.

He was fully clothed, like he’d panicked and jumped in without thinking about it at all. He had his arms wrapped around Eddie tightly, not leaving an inch of space between them. He was muttering something, but Eddie couldn’t quite hear what it was.

He let himself be held, no longer in panic mode with his human shield protecting him from the water.

“How long?”

Steve was rubbing his back, spreading a new warmth against his skin and helping, always helping.

“One minute.”

Eddie sighed. He didn’t wanna tell Nancy that he failed today.

She wouldn’t make him feel bad intentionally, but she got this look on her face when he didn’t make it to the timer going off like she wasn’t sure he could get through it.

“You wanna get out?”

“Please.”

Steve pulled away so he could shut off the water and Eddie got a good look at him.

He was soaked, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, his hair matted down against his head.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I made the choice.”

He did, yeah. But he probably felt obligated to, and that’s not really making a choice, is it?

“Eds, look at me.”

He’d been looking at the floor, kind of hoping it would just swallow him up for good, but managed to pull his head up when Steve asked.

“I’ll always, always, make the choice to help you. Okay?”

Eddie bit back a sob as he nodded, and Steve pulled him against his chest again.

“You have no clue how much I wanna be here for you. When Nancy called, I practically begged to be here, did she tell you that? But she said it wouldn’t be helpful if I jumped in the moment you needed me.”

“Helped now.”

Steve squeezed his arms.

“Yeah. She won’t be happy with me. But you weren’t answering and when I looked in, it’s like you weren’t even here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Eddie nodded. That lined up with what he’d been feeling, seeing.

“We should get out. You’re shivering.”

Steve guided him out of the shower and wrapped the towel he’d left hanging up around him, rubbing along his arms and back to help get him warmer faster.

Then he was taking off his shirt and removing his belt and Eddie’s brain couldn’t catch up.

“Uh.”

“Sorry, do you have some clothes I can borrow while I put these in the dryer?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve smiled at him like he didn’t just break his brain in half.

He managed to walk to his bedroom, grab a shirt and sweatpants, and walk back to the bathroom with only a single thought running through his mind: he’s wearing my clothes.

“Thanks,” Steve said as Eddie wordlessly handed them over.

And then he realized he forgot boxers.

Steve would be wearing his sweatpants with nothing under them.

He knew the noise he let out was close to a squeak, like a fucking mouse or something, but he couldn’t hold it in. Steve didn’t acknowledge it, hopefully didn’t hear it at all, as he focused on getting his soaked jeans off his body.

Then his boxers came off.

Eddie really did his best not to look. He did. It would be so rude to stare.

It would be even more rude to say something.

So he did both.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. The girls weren’t kidding were they?”

Steve’s face was bright red, but he didn’t look up until he was pulling the sweatpants up his legs.

“I guess that depends what they were saying.”

Eddie was still standing with his towel wrapped around him, eyes wide at everything that had just happened.

“For one, that you’re pretty well-endowed. I thought they just lacked experience. Maybe I’m the one lacking experience. Maybe you’re just huge.”

Steve was smirking at him, the confidence of the king coming back as he listened to Eddie.

“That so?”

“God, yeah. I’m never gonna be able to be with anyone again after seeing that.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Steve was stepping into his space now, still shirtless, still smirking.

“I mean, look at you. How could I ever be satisfied with someone else inside me when I could have that?”

Oh. Wait. No. He wasn’t supposed to be saying this out loud.

Steve’s hands were on his hips, though.

Gripping him tight, like he had no intention of letting him go.

“You want that? With me?”

Well, might as well lay it all out there.

“I want everything with you. Anything you’ll give me.”

“Everything?” Steve was still smirking, that asshole. “So if I wanted to take you out on a date…”

“A date?”

“Yeah. To dinner or something.”

“We can’t go on a date, Steve. We’re two men in bumfuck Indiana. We’d be killed.”

“How about I make you dinner? My place. Tonight?”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not, but hopefully I will be,” he said with a wink.

“Steve. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m like, kind of in love with you, full disclosure, and I’m not sure I can handle one date, a fuck, and then you never wanting to even talk to me again.”

Steve watched as he rambled, running his thumbs along Eddie’s hips like he was trying to keep him calm.

“Full disclosure, I’m kind of in love with you, too. I mean, I did just jump in a shower fully clothed to make sure you weren’t gonna hurt yourself. I’d do it every day if I had to.”

Eddie searched his face for any sign of a lie. Steve was easy to read, or at least he was to Eddie.

But Steve was giving him a fond smile, and moving in closer, and Eddie didn’t see any sign of a lie.

Steve’s hand cupped his jaw. He was looking at him like he was special, and Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it.

And then Steve was kissing him.

He dropped the towel. It was accidental, but he wasn’t going to interrupt any of this to pull it back up.

Steve was an intense kisser. He should’ve known.

He put everything he had into it. He kissed with his whole body, quite literally putting his back into it as he pushed Eddie against the wall.

But Eddie wasn’t doing this in his bathroom. Despite the fact that he was very obviously willing to, he wanted to have the date first.

He pulled away, but stayed in Steve’s arms. He wasn’t quite ready for complete separation.

“You’re making me dinner tonight?”

“I’m making you dinner tonight.”

“And it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

————

Steve came every day after that, even on days when Robin or Nancy were already there.

He sometimes waited in the hall as backup, but usually he stayed in the bathroom and talked to Eddie, who’d managed to get up to three whole minutes in only a few weeks.

When he finally made it to five, Nancy handed it all over to Steve.

He started taking showers with Eddie. Washing his body and hair so he could have more positive thoughts.

By the end of the year, he was taking regular showers.

He still had moments where he panicked, of course. He still sometimes had to cut them short because of a specific memory.

He still sometimes went a few days without because he couldn’t build up the courage to get in.

But Steve was there. They all were.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #exposure therapy #requests #its about the HEALING

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sillygayoscfan · 5 months

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Airy and Popcorn bake a cake :) part 2!!!

yep part two baby! Same warnings and stuff as part one, go read that one first 🤨

“Okay so.. where’s the hand mixer?” Airy shrugged, already breaking the clumps in the ingredients apart. Popcorn huffed and started opening various drawers, until she found the machine. He plugged it in, but set it aside. “You got all the drys in?” Airy glanced at all the powders and crystals on the counter. “I think so.. wait no.. don’t chocolate cakes need.. like a chocolate powder or something?” Airy remembered from the past baking shows they’d watched. Popcorn scratched her head. “Oh yeah.. we don’t have any of that.. oh! I know!” She grabbed the chocolate chips and poured them in a bag. “Popcorn what are you-“ Airy was cut off by Popcorn grabbing a rolling pin and proceeding to beat the bag with it. Most of the chips weren’t getting properly crushed, but it was close enough to her. “Popcorn I.. dont think.. that’ll..” “Shush Airy, a baker needs complete silence to concentrate on her work!” After a few minutes she poured the power in. “Let’s hope that works. K, the drys are mixed together, so let’s just put em together i guess.” He shrugged, grabbing the bowl and pouring it over the wets, coughing as clouds of flour burst up. “Ugh. So. How does this thing work?” She fiddled with the hand mixer, eyeing different buttons. Airy shrugged. “Fine, I’ll just start pressing random things and we’ll see how it works.” She eventually found the power switch, and immediately set it to the highest setting. Airy jumped back as clouds of powder and bits of butter went flying everywhere. “OH SHIT, BAD IDEA!” Popcorn managed to set it to a lower speed, sighing. “Yeah, maybe that wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had. But hey, i figured out how to turn this thing on!” She grinned. After a few minutes of mixing the batter, Popcorn was getting bored. “My arm hurts!” She glanced at Airy, hoping he would catch the memo. He was currently trying to clean up some of the counter. “Man this sure is boring..” Again, no response. “For heaven’s sake Airy, mix this for me!” He shoved the mixer into Airy’s arms. “Okay..” Airy started mixing the batter, calling Popcorn over when it was done. “Does this..?” Popcorn inspected it. “Yeah, that seems about right! Good job dude!” They poured it into a pan, and put the cake in the oven. “How long, Airster?” Airy thought for a moment. “I’m..not sure.” “Hm alright, uhh.. an hour. That’s always a good stopping point!” They set the timer, and let it be. “Airy, we’re running low on soap, let’s go to the store.” Popcorn suggested. About forty-five minutes later, they came back, to immediately be met with the smell of burning. “Oh shit!” Popcorn rushed into the room, Airy not far behind. She threw open the oven, and pulled out the cake. “Hot! Hot, hot, hot!” He quickly dropped it on the counter. “Is it.. supposed to look like that?” Airy asked, pointing at the charred bits on the outside, with the goopy middle pouring out. “Probably not. But we still gotta decorate!” Popcorn grabbed the various decorating things they had. “Let’s copy that design from the show, to prove it is easy!” Needless to say it was not as easy as it looked. The frosting kept melting off the cake, and the designs were terrible. “Well hey, it might be delicious!” She shrugged. Popcorn cut a piece and handed it to Airy. “I’m..not eating that.” He shook his head. “Your loss!” Popcorn sat down and grinned. “The moment of truth.. is it good?” She took a bite. “Hey.. it’s not bad!” “Really?” “Yeah man, try it!” She handed Airy the fork. He hesitantly lifted the piece to his mouth, immediately spitting it out. Popcorn cracked up. “Dude you actually thought? That shit is terrible! We should give it to my contestants. God that’d be funny, first person to eat their whole piece of my disgusting cake wins!” Airy got up to grab some water. “Oh ew..” Popcorn snickered.

yeah I cant come up with an ending imagine one for yourselves one 18 style lmao

#wow i wrote part 2😨⁉️#fanfiction #my writing #object show community #aircorn #airy x popcorn #hfjone airy #showvember popcorn #popcorn showvember #airy hfjone #hfjone #showvember

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solarwonux · 3 years

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24H || Seuncheol

mechanic!seungcheol x reader

soulmate!au

w.c: 6.5k

warnings: talks of death, angst, self doubt

note: hello everyone I am not completely back yet, I am still on hiatus. I have been writing this one shot since the release of 24H. I have rewritten it many many many times and have a abandoned it many times as well. Anyway, this is the finished product and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. And thank you @sunlightwoo for literally witnessing it all lol.

Also maybe one day I’ll post the original draft of this one if anyone is interested.

P.S. this is a part of a soulmate universe in which all the members are going to have a story, but that’s gonna take a little while lol, but I hope you all stick around until them

masterlist

Hour 1 - 17:00

Seungcheol threw the wrench on the pile of tools next to him before rolling himself out from underneath the car he was working on. “I don’t see the point in it, Shua.” He sat up, grabbing the towel he had next to him, and tried his best to wipe the black smudges of his fingers. “I’m already a disappointment to my parents, why not add one more to their list?” He shrugged, eyeing his best friend who had decided to come and visit him at the car shop he worked at.

“I think Shua has a point; you can’t brush this off. You don’t want to end up forgotten in a ditch somewhere.” Jeonghan said, pointedly resting his forearms on top of the hood of the car he had been working on.

“I’m not going to end up in a ditch and forgotten. The higher-ups--” Seungcheol stuck a pointer finger out and pointed at the cement ceiling, “are just going to set me up with someone.” He stood up and brushed off his whitewashed jeans, the only ones he seemed to wear as they had various oil stains etched into the creases of the fabric. In actuality, he had many of the same pair, and each of them had their own unique patterns of different oil stains.

“But wouldn’t it be better if you married your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime, the person the Stars destined you to be with,” Joshua spoke in rushed sentences as he ran a frustrated hand through his jet black hair. His wedding ring shining in the light of the sun, glowing in all its glory. A reminder that he had chosen the path that he and Jeonghan were trying to get Seungcheol to take.

Sometimes curiosity would seep in s when he saw how happy his best friends were with their soulmates, or when the ticking of the clock scarred into the skin of his wrist, and got too loud to ignore. Seungcheol knew he didn’t belong on that path. He was never one to follow the crowd, and the proof was in his parent’s disappointment when he decided to study music instead of medicine.

“Nope.” He stood up and closed the hood of the car. He could feel their glares burning holes into his scalp as he strode over and opened the driver’s door. “I’m a firm believer that soulmates are made not found.” Seungcheol grinned before getting behind the wheel and inserting the keys into the ignition. He had spent all morning working on a minor problem in the engine; he was hoping that after many failed attempts, he would finally be able to get the car to start again.

With a deep sigh, he turned the key listening as the engine sputtered a few times. The hope and confidence he had gained diminishing with each hiccup until, finally, the car roared back to life. A sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips along with a light laugh. He rested his forearms against the old battered steering wheel, peering through the windshield, catching Joshua’s nod of disapproval. He turned on his heels and walked out of the large garage door of the shop.

Seungcheol knew his friend’s meant well, and he knew they didn’t want him to end up unhappy with someone that wasn’t his other half. But how was he supposed to be sure that happiness was a given? When at the end of the day, everyone’s given soulmate was chosen at birth by a group of old white dudes calling themselves Stars.

Hour 2 - 18:00

“What are you going to do then?” Jeonghan closed the hood of the car and dusted his hands. His blonde hair grasped the light of the afternoon sun. Seungcheol placed down the paper bag that contained his and Jeonghan’s lunch on top of the aluminum table they kept in the far corner of the shop. “I don’t know...eat lunch.” He stated, shrugging and started taking the contents out of the paper bag. “Shua leave?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood of the car. He strode over to where Seungcheol was and took the burrito he had held out to him. “Said he doesn’t want to stay and watch you ruin his life.”

“I’m not ruining my life,” Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head and sat on top of the table, unwrapping his burrito. “I’m choosing the road not taken.” He finished before taking a decent bite out of his burrito.

“That’s ruining your life in my book.” Jeonghan gave him a pointed look and unwrapped the foil of his burrito, cursing when he noticed some its contents start to fall out of its confinement. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how they look?” He dug inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to clean off the salsa stain of his grey graphic tee. Jeonghan rarely dressed down, unless he was working. Though, sometimes he’d show up in outfits Seungcheol always deemed to clean for the oil splatters he would obtain throughout the day.

“If looks were the all end tell-all, you’d be an actor instead of the owner of your father’s car shop.”

“Are you calling me sexy, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gasped, making the other boy scoff in annoyance. Seungcheol took another bite of his burrito, the salsa running down the stubble of his chin and sighed. “Cause may I remind you I am happily married.” Jeonghan jokes, raising his hand, wiggling his ring finger.

Seungcheol squinted as the ring got caught in the crossfire between the heat and summer sun. The churning at the pit of his stomach started up again, along with the little voice annoying voice that lived in the back of his head. The red block of numbers on the inside of his wrist laughing at him as he tried his best to push the thought to the back of his head. Like he had done his entire life.

“Sure...but that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn’t be fair towards the other person.” He shrugged, finally cleaning his chin the rest of his mouth. He crumpled up the foil in his hands before throwing the ball he had formed into the paper bag. “It wouldn’t matter soon anyway; I don’t have much time left.” He jumped off the table and made his way to shelves where they kept most of the tools along with small spare car parts they might need some time in the future.

“How much time do you have left?” Jeonghan asked a little too exasperatedly than he would’ve liked, but Seungcheol had managed to catch his tone, and it was starting to make him feel uneasy. He closed a drawer he had mindlessly opened and dropped his head. Seungcheol hated looking at his timer because it never brought a good reaction out of him. He hated the way the anxiety would filter in through his veins as he let his mind wander to the what-ifs.

For as long as he could remember, he only allowed himself to stare at the number scar before bed but never enough to dwell on it. Last night he had twenty-four hours left; now he was positive the timer had reached the single-digit zone, and to be frank, he was afraid. He didn’t want to feel the pressure against his chest and the shortness of his breath. He didn’t want to feel the shaking in his hands and sweat that formed against his brow bone. Seungcheol had already chosen, but he knew that the second he glanced over at the timer, his doubt would start to run free. And he hated that feeling more than anything, but he also hated Jeonghan’s burning gaze staring him down as if he were doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. So he caved.

He turned his wrist and pushed the bracelets he used to hide his soulmate mark with his other hand. His breath caught itself in the back of his throat, his lungs closing in like two crushing walls as he saw the numbers ticking down. For a split second, he wondered if he had chosen the right path if his parent’s and his friends had been right all along. But he had been so sure just like he was confident that his name was Choi Seungcheol, that he had chosen right, so why was he letting his thoughts take over.

Maybe it was the teachings of the Stars he grew up reading at home and at school, or the guilt has finally started to consume him. Whatever it was, he decided to push it aside, bury it deep inside the archives of his mind. He had chosen right, and he wasn’t going to let any false pretenses change his mind.

“Five hours.”

Hour 3 - 19:00

Seungcheol moved the straw of his bubble, creating soft caramel tidal waves in the cup. He had already picked out all the tapioca pearls leaving him to deal with the unpleasant honeydew tea he had ordered. The soft melodies of an old pop song played in the background, drowning out the flirting going on between the lovers in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on his cup; it had started to accumulate the condensation that came with the humidity of the summertime. His index finger traced over the water droplets that had fallen onto the table, creating a small picture of nothing.

Jeonghan had dragged him to their usual boba shop after closing up the shop for the night. He had given Joshua a frantic phone call, claiming it was a 911 type of emergency. Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they weren’t tired at having the same conversation, and why they couldn’t let him live with the consequences in peace? If he ended up unhappy, that was his problem, and he would eventually deal with it, but he couldn’t stand the way everyone around him always seemed to have an opinion on how he should live his life.

It had started the day he was born, scarred with a mark against his own will. It carried out onto his childhood, his parents and teachers telling him how to sit, how to dress, how to speak, and how to breathe. When he left for college the same day his parents decided to disown him, he had finally felt free. He thought for himself, walked for himself and lived for himself. But now his best friend’s the ones he thought he could always count on and he felt knew him better than anyone in the world. Where the ones were trying to guilt-trip him into making a choice, he had made years ago, and frankly, he was getting really tired of it.

“Are you even listening to us Seungcheol, this is your future you're putting at risk,” Joshua whispered angrily, his grip on his cup grew tight enough his knuckles had started turning white.

“Why does it matter?” Seungcheol lightly flicked the straw of his drink before pushing it away and crossing his arms. Jeonghan and Joshua both looked at him as if he was growing a third head, annoying him even more. He wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal to them, it wasn’t their life getting ruined.

“It matters because we don’t want to see you dead.”

Hour 4 - 20:00

“Are you serious? Do you guys actually believe that kind of stuff?” Seungcheol shook his head and looked out the restaurant window. The sun had finished going down for it’s deep slumber and in return awakened the night life of the city. He took in the people smiling and laughing as they joked and clinged onto one another. He saw limbs start to give out as the alcohol they had previously consumed started to replace their blood. Seungcheol found himself wishing he was one of those people, where the one controlling his body wasn’t the one that gave up on their dreams but instead still held onto that small sliver of hope. It would at least be an escape for a little and most importantly it would be an escape from the painful talk his best friend’s were giving him.

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” Joshua spat out, quickly he stood up grabbing his coat and shrugged it on. “I’m not going to stay with you and watch the clock count down until you die.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and took out his wallet before throwing some money onto the table. “Are you coming with me?” He said before facing Jeonghan who was biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Seungcheol saw the gears turn in his head as he thought over his options, his eyes traveling between the furious looking Joshua and himself.

“Joshua calm down, look there have been some cases in the news lately of mysterious deaths and the only thing they have in common is that their timers went out before they got to meet their soulmate. I don’t know if it's all connected but it can’t just be coincidence Seungcheol.” Jeonghan stated, he tapped his forefinger against the wooden table as Joshua eyed him down waiting impatiently.

“And what if it is, what if I do find this person and then they turn out to be horrible? You guys got lucky but my life has never been a series of unfortunate events since the beginning of time so who's to say this is any different?”

“If you keep sitting here and mopping and feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll never find out.” Jeonghan nodded before taking out his wallet and throwing money onto the table. He hated the pity he saw behind his eyes. It only frustrated him because to him it felt like they had given up on him already. That they were planning his funeral without him leaving the world yet. Seungcheol wasn’t entirely convinced that death was at the end of this unfortunate journey, he sadly hoped it was. That way his friend’s would actually have something to pity, but he was alive and healthy (for the most part) so their pity in Seungcheol’s eyes was uncalled for.

“Then let me find out. Everyone is always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, I didn’t need you guys to also be one of those people too. You’re supposed to be my friends but here you are nagging me like you’re my parents. If I’m not worthy of hanging with you guys anymore because I’m not married and I have no interest in ever getting married then just leave me alone. I’m better off by myself anyway.”

Seungcheol knew that as soon as the words left his mouth they had been a mistake, but mistake or not he would never take them back. No matter how the luck of hurt flashing in their handsome features affected him more than it should’ve. These few hours could be the last of his life and instead of living it to his fullest with his closest friends he was pushing them away. Just like he always did whenever he felt too comfortable or afraid.

“Jeonghan let’s just go, he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to listen to us.” Joshua sighed, the exhaustion was evident on his face. It was clear he had given up long before the events of tonight. He knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, he knew that once he sets his mind to something there’s no way to turn it back. Seungcheol suspected that’s why he hadn’t tried as hard as Jeonghan to convince him to change his mind.

“Cheol, just think about it okay. You don’t have to go out and actively look for that person but just keep an open mind and they might just appear right before you. I know you think that we’re trying to do this to change you or to get you to settle down, but we don’t want to turn on the news tomorrow and have your names be part of one of the victims. If you can’t do this for us or yourself at least do it for you mom.” Jeonghan nodded one last time before scooting himself out of the booth. He stood sending a glare to Joshua that wasn’t missed by Seungcheol and somehow it made him feel uneasy inside. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between him and Joshua’s friendship, they had known each other longer than they had known Seungcheol. For half of their life’s Seungcheol was simply an outsider between the threesome. He didn’t know at what moment they became inseparable, but now he wished they hadn’t.

At least they wouldn’t be involved in the webs of Seungcheol’s complicated life, and they certainly wouldn’t be here showing the utmost care for him when he himself felt like he was unworthy of it.

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Jeonghan mumbled before dragging Joshua out of the restaurant, mumbling angrily underneath his breath. Seungcheol knew the small comment was Jeonghan’s way of holding onto the little amount of hope he had for his friend. The hope that he would walk into the car shop tomorrow morning and see Seungcheol passed out drunk, his drool stain embedded into the checkered pattern of the old battered couch in the office, because he couldn’t remember how to unlock his front door.

Though, it was a phrase full of hope, it wasn’t a promise, and it felt more like a goodbye to Seungcheol. It made him uneasy and Seungcheol hated feeling uneasy because it only made the ticking sound of the clock tattooed onto his skin louder.

The front door bell to the restaurant sounded, signaling that someone had walked in or out. He turned to face out the window again and saw Jeonghan and Joshua in a heated argument before Jeonghan kept dragging him away by the ear this time. The scene could’ve been comical to him at some point, but now he just wondered if they were all going to be okay by the time the night ended and morning came again.

Either way it was clear to him that they had walked out of his life, maybe not for good but they also wouldn’t be the first ones either.

Hour 5 -21:00

Seungcheol paid the bill and exited the restaurant quietly, his best attempt to remain invisible. It would be a lie if didn’t admit how scared he was after Jeonghan and Joshua left him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he awoke that morning.

Would his faith really be death?

Or where they using their evil tactics against him to convince him to do the right thing. Needless to say he was scared, more scared than he ever was whenever he thought about falling in love.

He had once, a long time ago, back when he was still studying music production in college, before he dropped out and took up a job at Mr. Yoon’s carshop. During the three years he was there, all the songs he had composed resembled something about her. Whether it was a phrase she had said or the way the color blue seemed to make her honey doe eyes pop. He was in love, head over heels, ready to give it all up, his friends, his pride, his dream, his life, everything under the sun, for her. He had his bags packed long before she had agreed to run away with him.

In fact, he almost did, but the morning as he stood underneath the winter sun, waiting at the bus stop with two overprized one way tickets, with his fingers threatening to fall off from the cool. Everything became clear to him, she had abandoned him and their plan. She had given up on him, just like his parents had when he first told him he was going to follow his dream, instead of theirs.

Seungcheol was angry, it boiled inside of him like an overflowing calderon, and the closer he got to the university and his dorm, the more it spilled over. In a frenzy he had entered his home and destroyed everything he owned. His studio setup, his computer, his many notebooks that were filled with lyrics, because everything had been touched by her and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Not after she had lied boldly to his face the night before when they shared the most intimate moment with each other.

And just like he promised to her underneath the moonlight, he gave it all up, but this time because she had broken him.

There was a letter she had left for him to find. It didn’t come into his possession after he had stopped attending classes and was living on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch. The university had called him to pick up his belongings from his dorm after he dropped all his classes on whim one Saturday afternoon. When he did, when he opened the front door of the wretched dorm room, the room that once held so many beautiful memories turned sour. The toe of his shoe was met with a brown paper envelope, his name scribbled neatly on the back. Instantly he knew who it was from.

Seungcheol had once prided himself in memorizing the way her letters curved with one another. A useless talent he now wished he could forget entirely. With a hesitant he opened it and skimmed through, not wanting to linger long enough on every single one of her words so it would hurt less.

In the end it did.

It hurt more than her leaving him stranded on the bus stop that morning. It hurt more than finding out that the little things she had strategically left at his place had mysteriously disappeared when he came back home that morning. It hurt more than giving up entirely on a dream so pure that it ended up tainted. It hurt more than dying, or so he assumed because now he finally knew the truth. A truth he had been blinded to the entire three years they spent lost in each other’s thoughts and arms.

She didn’t love, and she never did. She had a passion that consumed her to the point of greed and when she realized she wasn’t going to achieve her dream with Seungcheol at her side.

She left and he had given up love for good.

Which is why Seungcheol was so against the entire soulmate phenomenon. If death was the outcome then so be it, even though the thought of his mom finding him out he was dead scared him to the point it welcomed chills to his body. He was stubborn though, and his father always hated that about him because it reminded him of his younger self. But Seungcheol was never going to give in, no matter how loud the click on his wrist was ticking and how fast he found himself walking.

There was a little bit of hope. It was reserved for special occasions and those had been a rarity in Seungcheol’s life for longer than he liked to admit. But it was still there, buried deep inside, behind his walls and his pride. And it was threatening to burst out into the open, because as much as Seuncheol was scared of falling in love again, this time with a complete stranger, terrified him. The thought of not knowing if his life was really at stake was far scarier. He was gambling with his life line and that was a risk he found himself not willing to take. Though he would never admit to himself and especially not to Jeonghan or Joshua.

He was in complete denial at least for a slight second. Yet, he had started to walk with fever and hastily. He was desperate, he didn’t know where to start or how to start or if he should even start. He just walked, until his body was running on autopilot. He didn’t know where he was going or where he was going to end up, but the only thing on his mind was that the timer was blaring inside of his eardrums at an alarming rate, and the hope he kept at bay spilling out of his pores.

He needed to find his soulmate before it was too late.

Seungcheol didn’t want to die, he still had a dream to achieve. He will do it, he had promised himself that much. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from again.

Hour 6 - 22:00

Seungcheol was panting, bending over, with his sweaty palms against his jean clad legs as tried his best to put the air back in his lungs.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, all he could remember was bumping into a few people along the way and mumbling sorry’s underneath his breath when they had sent him glares his way. But he had ended up at the park across the street from his studio apartment, the one he rarely lived in because more often than not. The old raggedy couch at the car shop had been his home for as long as he had worked there. He had bought it last year after saving up enough money, in hopes of it becoming his new beginning, his safe space, where he could jump right back into working on his one goal in life.

Though, the first night he had spent there, he had hated it. Occasionally he would give it a second chance. He had given it many second chances, but the outcome was always the same. He would stay awake until four in the morning, get frustrated and then end up running laps at the park until sunrise.

This park had been his sanctuary, the one his apartment couldn’t provide, so it was no surprise his body had carried him here. He felt at home here, the hollowing of the wind chiming and wrapping around him like a blanket of safety. Here, in this park, Seungcheol felt comfortable enough to let his mind race through the thoughts he would keep hidden behind a wall.

He straightened himself out, running his fingers through his wet sweaty hair and made his way to the park bench by the basketball court, where he would occasionally lay down in the middle and look at the sky, counting the lack of stars in the sky. He knew they were there, but because of the city's light pollution they were invisible to his eye. Those were the only stars he trusted, not the ones that used the Universe’s gifts for their own selfish desires and to control everyone.

The stars in the night sky, the one’s he used his imagination and intuition to connect with, trusted him. They were the only one’s in his life that believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself, and it made him feel at ease knowing that at least someone out there was rooting for him to win this losing battle.

Seungcheol took a deep sigh and placed his palm over the watch on the inside of his wrist. He had only two hours left, and he would rather not witness the time ticking down. He could hear it, it was drumming loudly against his eardrums, loud enough to the point in which he couldn’t hear the wind and the tree’s surrounding him singing their natural melody. The last thing he needed was to see the visual representation of his last breath nearing him.

He wanted to fight, but he was tired. If tonight was his last night living a life he had been so cruel to. He would at least take his last breath at the place he felt most at home.

So, he sat back and closed his eyes tightly. He felt the wind against his cooling skin, the familiar shivers running up his spine. For the first time since he woke up that morning he felt at peace.

Hour 7 - 23:00

The ringing of his phone startled him. He had only had his eyes closed for about five minutes. Only five minutes of peace before it was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He let out a frustrated sigh and fished out his phone from the pocket of his oil stained light washed jeans. His gaze and heart softened when he realized his mother was the one calling him. Without hesitation he unlocked his phone and placed his phone to his ear.

Silence. He was met with silence, until a choked sob broke it, his heart shattering in the process. “M-Mom, what’s wrong?” Seungcheol sat up. His eyes grew wide. The anxiety running through his body making his leg bounce.

“Joshua called me. He was freaking out saying that you were making a mistake. What is talking about? You’re not thinking about leaving again?” His mom spoke. Seungcheol could visualize the almost heart attack Joshua had given his mother when he called. He could visualize the color draining from her face as her hands shook while she dialed his number. Seungcheol’s mother was an over thinker and she always thought about the worst possible scenarios. Especially when it came to Seungcheol and his brother. Joshua knew what he was doing when he had called his mother. He knew that his mother was his weakness. Despite the differences they argued about over the years, Seungcheol loved his mother and knowing she was in such distress because of him, scared him more than what he already was.

“Nothing mom, he’s over exaggerating. Jeonghan, him and I had a small argument earlier but it’s nothing mom. I’m okay.” He spoke into the receiver lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, although he was in his sanctuary and at peace. His timer finally reached the fifty-nine minute mark and his heart was racing to the point he was scared it would literally squeeze through the spaces between his ribs and rip through the safety of his skin, onto the concrete pavement beneath his feet.

“Are you sure? He sounded really scared and worried, what did you guys fight about?” The words came rushing out of her mouth at lighting speed. He knew that question was coming and although he tried scouring through the files in his mind to come up with a concrete answer that would make his mother worry less. He couldn’t. There was no answer he could give her. If she lied she would know, but if he told the truth, his mother would certainly never be able to recover.

He knew he could prevent her heartbreak. All he had to do was get up and start walking again, let his feet carry him as his intuition and the Universe led him to where he needed to be, but he stayed seated. His hand closing into a fist taking the roughness of his jeans between them, the frustration, fear and anxiety coursing through his veins faster than before. Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, maybe if he didn’t let his own selfishness consume him to the point it clouded his judgment, he could’ve let himself do what he needed to do. What he wanted to do.

“It’s not a big deal, Jeonghan asked him to be his best man and I got a little upset. Tomorrow we’ll be fine and laugh about it.” He said letting out the breath he had been holding in. He knew he sounded like he had just ran a few miles rather than sitting down in complete silence and stillness.

“I know you’re lying but I have been able to get the truth out of you, so I’ll drop it. At least I know you’re okay and you’re still here.” Seungcheol’s mother stopped speaking for a second, he could hear his father whispering something to her and his mother answering in agreement. “Visit us tomorrow, your brother is coming over tomorrow for dinner. Your dad wants to see you.” She half whispered the last part and it brought a slight smile to his face. For years Seungcheol and his father had not been on good terms, whenever they saw each other, his future always became the topic of conversation. His father always shared his disapproval and disappointment on how Seungcheol’s life had turned out. His father expected too much from both him and his brother, he had dreams in which he had tried to instill in them. It wasn’t enough that one of his sons had achieved his dream, his pride was attached to the two of them. And knowing that Seungcheol always refused, always followed the beat of his own drum, wounded his pride.

His mother and brother always tried their best to bridge the gap between them that had only grown deeper over the years.

Seungcheol admired their commitment, but just being in his father’s presence fully aware of how he felt towards him was only a simple reminder of what he did not want to become, and it only made him resent him even more.

“I don’t know mom, I work until late tomorrow and I wouldn’t have enough time to go home shower and change. Maybe some other time.” Seungcheol whispered. The wind blew causing a single leaf to escape its perspective branch. Seungcheol watched it closely as it flew down, landing on his lap. He picked it up in between his forefinger and thumb, twirling the steam as he listened to his mother sigh out.

“Just come after work...it’s important.”

Seungcheol wanted to say yes. The simple three letter word was one of the hardest ones to say. With the urgency in his mother’s voice, he knew that she wasn’t lying and that whatever his father had to tell him. It was important. But Seungcheol didn’t want to make a promise he could not keep. For he didn’t know if his tomorrow would ever come. If the last thirty minutes (indicated by the timer on his wrist) would be the last thirty minutes of his life.

He wondered if it was possible for time to run faster than before, and the quick ticking sound in his head proved that he was right. It was now drowning out the sound of his mother’s low and desperate pleas.

“M-Mom I’ll see what I can do, maybe if Jeonghan is in a good mood I can convince him to let me off early, I’ll try to be there by dinner time.” The almost empty promise escaped his throat, running past his teeth and perfect lips faster than he could stop himself.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His mother cheered. He could hear and sense her happiness through the receiver of his phone and it shattered his heart. When tomorrow came and what Jeonghan and Joshua both claimed to be true would happen. What would be his mother’s reaction?

“I’ll try mom, you know I’m not good at keeping promises.” He half joked, the tears had started to pool in the corner of his eyes. He looked up at the night sky, making eye contact with the moon. They had once been intimate, but over the last few months they had been disconnected, the stars surrounding her protecting her from his own selfish needs and acts. He missed her, he wished he could feel her light upon his skin, caressing him and holding him in ways he wanted to be held. Ways in which he needed to be held. Though, he could feel her reluctance as he took in her beauty. She was there with him, keeping him company as the last twenty minutes of his life counted down.

“You always find a way to keep them Seungcheol. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” He whispered before the line went dead. Seungcheol sighed, bringing down his phone from his ear. He stared at his mother’s contact name, trying to decide if he should call her back again. Tell her that he wasn’t fine that he was scared and that he wanted to be in her arms, singing the song she always sang to him whenever his imagination betrayed him, plaguing his dreams with nightmares. But he didn’t again, his own pride and reluctance, the one he gets from his father and the reason why they clash so much kept him calling her back.

Instead he looked at his timer one last time, noted that there were ten minutes left and placed his phone down next to him on the bench. He took in his surroundings one last time before leaning his back and closing his tired soft eyes.

Hour 8: 24:00

“Excuse me?”

Seungcheol opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of the soft voice behind him and the light tap on his shoulder. He sat up quickly looking around frantically. He only had five minutes left and his peace had been disturbed. He turned around his gaze falling upon someone he had only seen in his dreams.

“You dropped your phone.” You said shakingly, handing him his phone. He assumed that it had fallen through the cracks of the bench; he had been so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear the thud of it hitting the ground.

“Oh um, thank you.” He spoke quickly, taking his phone. His fingers accidentally brushed over the soft skin of your wrist, the familiar digital clock appearing before him and the ticking sound became loud enough to the point he couldn’t hear the nagging voice that had stayed with him for the last twenty five years of his life. Quickly he glanced down to his wrist and then at yours, he could feel the fear radiating out of your pores as the seconds counted down faster than the speed of light.

Seungcheol almost laughed. In fact he felt the laugh suppressing itself in the back of his throat. But as the timer finally reached the infamous zero’s, his last breath didn’t come, and neither did yours. He watched as you looked around frantically before your eyes found his. You let out the sob you had been suppressing for the entirety of the day. Your knees gave up on you and you leaned down hugging your calves, burying your face into your thighs, the sobs came quickly and Seungcheol sat there not knowing what to do.

It was like his body was acting on his and he stood up, rounding the corner of the bench and crouched down. His shaking arms wrapped around you tightly, running a soothing hand down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of your navy blue sweatshirt.

The next words we muttered, were words he never thought he would say again. But again it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body. It felt like after the timer hit the long awaited double zero’s his body belonged to someone else, almost as if he had been reborn again after twenty five years.

“It’s okay, I am here.”

283 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi! Do you think you’d be willing to write some Cubs fluff for Mardi Gras? Like Leo making Finn and Lo do something (I don’t exactly know how it’s celebrated)?

Oh my god I LOVE Mardi Gras!!! Also, I haven’t done Cubs fluff in a while, and I combined it with a couple other related prompts. This fic includes Cubs and Coops bonding (ft. Logan being a little shit), Leo learning to drive in the snow, a chaotic trip to the grocery store, and Lions family dinner after a winter walk. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove, as always <3

“Eas—Easy, babe, just take it nice and steady,” Finn gripped the ‘oh, shit’ handle with one hand and Leo’s thigh with the other; in the backseat, Logan rubbed his neck where the seatbelt bit into it.

Leo took an unsteady breath and carefully pressed the gas again, wincing as the car rumbled under him. “Oh god, oh fuck, okay.”

“Snow isn’t that hard to drive in—” Finn cut off as Leo slammed on the brakes again. “—as long as you don’t brake hard whenever you feel a little bit of ice. Lo, you okay?”

“Fine,” Logan wheezed, bracing against the car door.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Finn murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as Leo began inching forward again. “If you start to slip, take your foot off the gas and do not slam the brakes, okay? We don’t want to skid.”

“I don’t get why you can’t drive us there,” Leo said, glancing in each of his mirrors even though they were still in a fairly residential area. Ten minutes on the road and they’d barely made it four blocks from the apartment.

“Because you need to know how to drive properly.”

“I know how to drive!” Leo saw Finn and Logan exchange a look through the rearview mirror and smacked him lightly on the chest. “Stop it. When’s my next turn?”

“Still 53rd.”

“Left or right?”

“Right.” Finn tapped out a quick text on his phone. “Cap and Loops just arrived at the store.”

“Fuck,” Leo muttered.

“It’s okay, Peanut, take your time,” Logan said. “Just focus on getting there safely.”

Leo tried to breathe deep and they rolled down the block, flinching each time snow or ice crackled under the tires or threatened to make them slide. “I drive in the rain all the time. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Rain is way different than snow.” Finn pointed to the next intersection. “Turn there.”

They took the turn a bit wide, but thankfully there were no cars on the other side—still, both Finn and Logan went pale. Logan cleared his throat. “Streets here aren’t as wide as New Orleans, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Leo grumbled. “How much further?”

“The parking lot is on the next block.”

They almost got stuck driving up the small ramp into the parking lot due to Leo’s ‘slow and steady’ approach and he could have sworn he heard Logan muttering the Hail Mary in French under his breath. Parking was easy—nobody in their right mind would be driving after a true Gryffindor snowstorm. Except us, he thought wryly as he turned the engine off.

“Don’t forget to lock the car,” Finn said mere seconds after the key was out.

“Dude.”

“Sorry. Uh, Cap’s by the produce section.”

They were too focused on not slipping and falling on their asses to talk much while they walked through several snowdrifts to get to the front entrance of the grocery store; Leo sighed with happiness as soon as the heated air hit his face.

“Harzy!” Cap waved an arm over his head from the apple stand, smiling brightly. “You survived!”

“It was a close one,” Finn called back with a grin, sliding his hand into Leo’s back pocket as the three of them walked over.

“Dibs on riding in the cart!” One of Logan’s legs was already halfway into the basket before Sirius could stop him; he kicked aside the celery and onions and settled down, leaning back onto Sirius’ hands. “Bonjour.”

“Get out.”

“Non. I live here now.”

“I’m not pushing you.”

“I will!” Finn said. “Where’s the old ball and chain, Capsicle?”

“Call me that again and you can say goodbye to your ball and chain,” Remus said drily, lugging a bag of rice over from the other aisle. He stopped when he saw Logan, looking amused. “Hiya, Tremz. You look comfy.”

“Oh, I am.” Logan lounged in the cart, letting one leg drape over the side; he groaned when Remus set the rice bag on his chest. “Was that necessary?”

“No, but it was funny.” He grinned at Leo. “How was driving?”

Leo shrugged. “Decent.”

Sirius snorted as they began walking toward the meat section. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s a miracle I wasn’t beheaded,” Logan said. “Fish, how fast can you make it to the end of the aisle?”

“Loops, time me.” Finn tightened his grip on the cart and bent into a runner’s stance; Leo and Sirius both rolled their eyes as Remus dug his phone out of his pocket and opened up the timer.

“Ready…set…go!” Finn ran for three steps before hopping onto the under carriage as Logan whooped. Remus stopped the timer. “Four point six seconds! Get back here, I wanna try.”

“You’re not going to beat that time,” Logan laughed as he climbed out of the cart.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the same time Remus stuck his tongue out. “Watch me. Knutty, can I trust you to be an unbiased timer?”

Leo shrugged. “Sure, gimme your phone.”

“You have one of your very own.”

“Trying to hide something, are we?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius pushed him away by the forehead. “Spill the beans, Loops! Got some spicy messages in there? Some things poor baby Nutter Butter can’t handle?”

“No, I just don’t trust any of you with anything that belongs to me,” he laughed. “You’re walking safety hazards.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Leo said as he set the timer. “Ready? Go!”

Sirius nearly tipped the cart over when he stood on the lower bar, making both of them yelp and wobble for a moment. Leo stopped the clock at the end of the aisle. Three point nine seconds.

“Sorry, guys, that’s four point eight seconds!” he called as Sirius pushed the cart back up to them.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Show me the phone.”

“I already reset the time.”

“So we definitely won,” Sirius said while Remus clambered out of the basket and Logan took his place. “Get out, Tremzy!”

“Make me!”

Sirius reached in and grabbed him under his armpits, but Logan kept a tight grip on the sides. “Are you done?” Remus asked wearily once Sirius started shaking him. “ ‘cause our grocery list is, like, a million miles long.”

With a disgruntled noise, Sirius dropped Logan back into the cart. “With any luck, he’ll be crushed under the food. What’s next?”

They had a few more competitions during their journey through the store, including onion basketball, vegetable Tetris, and a highly amusing game of twenty questions that ended in Sirius laying the bag of rice over Logan’s face.

Leo did some mental math as they walked out with six grocery bags full of ingredients. “We’ll need about seven pots to fit all this, but we’ve only got two that would work.”

“I think we’ve got one or two as well,” Remus said as he hauled a bag into the trunk of their car and brushed his hands off. “Celeste probably has some, and I can give Lily a call. Where are we making it, again?”

“Dumo’s. There’s nowhere near enough space at the apartment and I don’t want these two anywhere close to it.”

Finn shot him an offended look over a bag of onions. “Hey!”

“I love you, sweetheart, but if you fuck up my gumbo I’ll cry.” In the back of his mind, Leo was already thinking of small jobs for Logan and Finn to do so they could make it together, but they didn’t need to know that. It could be a Mardi Gras surprise.

“The sun’s coming out,” Sirius mused, looking upward at the clear blue sky. “Nothing we bought is going to melt. Do you want to go for a walk before we head out?”

Logan checked his phone. “We’ve got time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo agreed.

“I’m never going to say no to a snow day,” Finn laughed, wrapping his arms around Leo and Logan. “Lead the way.”

“So, Knutty, gumbo is basically chicken noodle soup, right?” Sirius asked as he linked elbows with Remus and started down the sidewalk.

“Uh, no.” Leo made a disgusted face and reached out to smack the back of his shoulder. “That’s blasphemy. Gumbo is more like stew, but you put less meat in it and more of a vegetable base. There aren’t noodles, either. Do you even know what a roux is?”

Sirius glanced back at Finn, who shrugged. “…I do not.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Leo muttered. “A roux is the base to all good New Orleans food. It’s flour and oil, and you heat it up so whatever you’re making has an actual taste to it, as well as some thickness. If you get it wrong, the whole thing is pretty much ruined.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Damn.”

Ahead of them, a pack of kids played pickup hockey on the park’s frozen pond. Several of them wore Lions sweatshirts or hats and Leo leaned his head on Finns beanie with a smile. “Look at how cute they are,” Finn cooed, waving to some of the astonished parents who had spotted them.

“Oh, killer hit,” Remus said as one kid went on a breakaway. “Is he—hey, nice shot!”

They paused for a second to applaud and a jumble of excited yelling echoed off the trees around the pond; Leo burst out laughing and draped his other arm across Logan’s shoulders, pulling him in closer to their huddle as they began to walk again. “We should head out there sometime. We live close enough.”

Finn hummed in agreement and stood on his tiptoes with a hopeful smile. “Kisses?”

Leo obliged, still grinning. “You’re ridiculous. That had nothing to do with hockey.”

“I didn’t get any kisses,” Logan grumbled, snuggling into Leo’s ribs.

“Get up here and I’ll give you one!”

“My nose is cold!”

Leo sighed dramatically and bent down to kiss the rosy tip of his nose—at the last second, Logan popped his chin out of his coat collar and caught his lips. “That was smooth as fuck. Better?”

“Much.”

“Are you three being gross again?” Remus teased, craning his neck to look back.

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“One walk,” Sirius sighed. “I wanted one walk where we could hang out in peace and quiet.”

“You invited the wrong people for that,” Leo snickered as they looped back around the block into the parking lot. “Harzy, baby, can you drive us back?”

“You need to learn!”

Leo turned on his saddest puppy eyes and stuck his lower lip out. “Please?”

Finn scrunched his nose up and flicked his shoulder lightly. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Obviously.”

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

After a quick pit stop at their apartment to pick up the pots, they arrived at the Dumais house just past two in the afternoon. Sirius and Remus pulled into the driveway just as they began unloading groceries from the truck and hurried over to give them a hand; all five of them were immediately mobbed by children the second they set foot in the house. Leo carefully took the onions from Logan so he could sweep Katie over his shoulder and tickle her knees, making her dissolve into giggles.

“My boys!” Celeste called from the entrance to the kitchen. She practically glowed with excitement as she pulled them into a group hug and Leo melted a little when she pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. “You brought the food, yes?”

“We’ve got everything we need,” he confirmed, holding the onions and a pot up as proof. “As long as you’ve got counter space, we’ll be a-okay.”

Sirius and Logan lingered in the doorway, chatting with the kids in rapid French that Leo didn’t even try to keep up with—he used to think regional differences were made up for internet clout, but even after living with Logan for close to a year he sometimes struggled with the pace.

Celeste helped them gather cutting boards, knives, and basic spices that they hadn’t picked up at the store; Leo felt a thrill in his gut and drummed his hands happily on the countertop at the sight of the familiar ingredients. He made a mental note to send a picture to his mother later that night as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Think you can handle rinsing vegetables?” he asked, passing Finn a bag of green peppers.

Finn rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and he pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek before going to the sink. Remus unpacked the last of the bags and gave him an expectant look—Leo was struck by the sudden realization that for once, he was the only one in the kitchen who knew the recipe.

“Um, I’ll start the roux,” he said, grabbing the flour and oil. “Loops, can you start dicing the peppers, celery, and onions? Cap can help out once he gets the squid children off him.”

A smile tugged at the edge of Remus’ mouth. “Bold of you to assume he won’t drag them in here.”

“Alright, Rookie, what’s my job?” Sirius panted, grinning wildly as Adele wrapped herself around his lower leg and groaned with each dragging step.

Remus spared him a playful I told you so look, and Leo shook his head. “As long as you can use a knife with a kid clinging to your leg, you can help your fiancé chop the basics.”

Sirius mock-saluted him and hobbled to the counter; behind him, Logan wandered in with Marc under one arm and Katie under the other. “I have potato sack delivery,” he announced, giving them each a gentle shake. “Can these go in the gumbo, too?”

“No!” both shrieked at the same time, flailing their legs.

“Those look like pretty good potatoes to me…” Sirius said, glancing down at Adele. “What do you think?”

“Put ‘em in the soup!” she yelled.

“It’s not soup,” Leo complained, though he couldn’t be heard over the loud protests of the youngest Dumais kids.

Sirius finally got Adele to let go of him when he started cutting onions—“Do you want to smell like onions?”—but Katie perched on the edge of the counter and watched every move Leo made with eagle eyes as he finished each roux and began mixing the trinity in. Each motion was muscle memory—the smells wrapped him in a hug made of tangy peppers, smooth chicken broth, and a kick of spice at the very end.

Much to his surprise, Sirius, Finn, and Logan were quick learners. Making five massive pots of gumbo was much easier when he had five more hands helping him; Celeste had even been sweet enough to put jazz on as they cooked and the six of them took turns dancing, partnering with whomever was closest.

The others started arriving at five—almost immediately, the kitchen was crowded with ten new hockey players who crammed as close as they could to the stovetop to smell the bubbling broth. Noelle was the only one who was allowed to get within ten feet of the food, much to Talker’s chagrin.

Honestly, it was a miracle that they made it to the table without the rest of the team falling on the gumbo like a pack of wild hyenas who hadn’t eaten for a week. Kasey’s bouncy leg shook the edge of the table in anticipation until Leo reached over and smacked him on the thigh with his spoon. “Be patient, Bliz.”

“I’m always patient!”

Eight different people made noises of protest and he scoffed, leaning his face over the bowl to get a whiff of the thick steam. Dumo tapped his fork on the side of his cup; it wasn’t quite a classy ding-ding, but it made enough noise to catch people’s attention.

“First, thank you all for coming here for a family dinner,” he said, smiling so wide it made Leo’s heart warm. “Second, I’d like to welcome the older and wiser O’Hara to his very first Lions dinner, since he had the great fortune of visiting just in time to be adopted by the team for a night!”

Loud cheers filled the house and Alex gave a slight wave, blushing under the attention as Kasey and Nat jostled him between their shoulders.

“And finally, everyone say ‘thank you’ to Knutty for sharing his top-secret gumbo recipe from home. We might not celebrate Mardi Gras like New Orleans, but this is a party nonetheless.” Dumo raised his water with a wink and Leo squeezed Logan’s hand under the table as seventeen voices thanked him for his cooking, despite the fact that they hadn’t even tasted it yet.

The house went dead silent as people took their first bites, then erupted into noise. “Holy shit, Knutty!” Nado all but shouted, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “This is witchcraft.”

“It’s called ‘cooking’, you should try it sometime,” Leo shot back, grinning. The chicken thighs melted in his mouth, and the pop of lemon and spice at the back of his throat tingled all the way down to his bones. He didn’t think Pots had taken a breath in thirty straight seconds. Leo closed his eyes, letting the tangled muddle of his family’s voices roll over him, mixing with the taste of home.

“Ça va, mon amour?” Logan asked under his breath, touching his elbow.

Leo smiled and touched their foreheads together, setting his spoon down on the edge of his bowl. “I’m so fucking happy right now.”

Logan smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. “You look happy.”

“You two are whispering without me?” Finn whined, scooting his chair over a few inches and squishing Logan between them. His bowl was already half-empty, Leo noted with a sense of satisfaction. “That’s rude.”

“I love you,” Leo said. It needed no embellishments; no big, dramatic displays. “And I love making food for everyone.”

“You can do it any time, baby rookie.” Kasey scraped the sides of his bowl to catch the last few grains of cornbread, knocking his knee with Leo’s. “Next time we have a sleepover, I’m not ordering pizza.”

“So I’m going to be your personal chef?” Leo snorted. “Not a chance.”

“What’s that saying? The Mardi Gras one?”

Leo savored his next bite of gumbo and looked around the table as everyone chatted and laughed at the top of their lungs. “Laissez les bon temps rouler,” he said. “Let the good times roll.”

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rosaliestark01 · 3 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 8

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You play double agent while the Avengers search for you.

Warnings: more swearing than usual, angst, violence

A/N: @annies-marvel-imagines will no longer be posting more parts, but she will still receive credit.

You paced around Ezekiel's secret hideout and realized several things. The first thing is that there was no way that these two individuals managed to get their hands on such high-level tech by themselves. The second was that Ezekiel obviously lied about being your dad. The third was that Ezekiel most definitely had enough money to get a less crappy apartment. The fourth and most crucial thing you realized was that you'd have to play along with their plan longer than you wanted to.

Judging by the number of meals you've gotten, you'd guess you've been there for three days. It was hard to pretend that you wanted to wipe out the Avengers, but you had to remind yourself that this was just another mission. Except, you didn't have your suit or any means of contacting your team. Plus, the Avengers had no idea where you were, what you were doing, or what you were trying to do. You were on your own.

"Don't just stand there, you spoiled brat. Help us out," Eloise yelled at you.

Another thing that made it hard to act like you were on their side was the constant feeling of wanting to strange Eloise every time she opened her mouth. She honestly reminded you of a penny. Two-faced and not worth much.

"What the hell is this thing?" you ask as you approach the strange metal box that Eloise and Ezekiel had struggled to get out of Ezekiel's truck.

"You like it?" he asks, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. Was this guy serious?

"Did your ears suddenly stop working, or are you just that bad at listening to someone else's shit for once?" You say without thinking. The strange looks from them tell you that it was the wrong thing to say, so you backtrack. "Sorry, I'm still a little nervous about all this."

"It's fine," Ezekiel mutters, coughing awkwardly before becoming grave. "As long as you do your job, you have nothing to worry about."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, suddenly becoming defensive.

"This is your new suit." Eloise snarks, clearly trying to get everyone's attention back onto the metal box. She pressed a button, causing it to open.

Inside was a suit that looked similar to your dad's iron suit, but instead of red and gold, it was black and purple.

"Why does it look like that?" You ask. Why would they base the suit off of Iron Man's suit if they hate his guts?

"We figured you'd like an upgrade," Ezekiel beamed proudly. You're assuming that he was the one who built it, but you weren't ready to jump to conclusions. The guy already had trouble figuring out how to open the microwave. "Your old suit seemed..."

"weak," Eloise rolled her eyes as she finished his sentence.

"It was flexible and bulletproof," you defended. The suit you always wore worked well for years. Who do these people think they are? "I made it with my d- with Tony Stark."

"That explains a lot." She crosses her arms as she stares down at you with a judgmental glare. "Trust me. If you're going up against the Avengers, you're going to want to wear this. It'll protect you better than that flimsy piece of shit you always wore before."

"Fine," you mumbled, remembering that it is in your best interest to pretend that you agree with them.

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

Peter felt like he was drowning.

He'd never gone this long without knowing if you were okay or not, and it was killing him. Without you, his Peter-Tingle, or Spidey-Senses as you called it, felt like a timer he couldn't shut off. He wasn't sure if it had to do with the fact that he was worried out of his mind or if it meant that you were in danger. Maybe both?

What was worse was that he had to pretend everything was okay. Happy was in the hospital, you were missing, and the Avengers were moving heaven and Earth to find you, but he couldn't join them. May and the Avengers insisted that he let the "adults" handle this. Did it ever occur to them that you matter to him just as much, if not more?

"Hey, Pete?" Ned and the rest of your friends approached him hesitantly. They all worried about you, but they knew that it was harder on him. "Is there any update on Y/N?"

"Not yet." Peter would have known if there was even a slight update. "Have any of you heard anything?"

"Gwen feels guilty about what happened at homecoming," Harley states ."She says that if she hadn't spilled her drink on Y/N, she never would have left the gym."

They all look to where Gwen was standing with her friends. She didn't look happy. In fact, she looked like she hadn't slept since word got out that you were missing.

"She should feel guilty." Peter huffs, "If she got over her damn pettiness long enough to realize that I love Y/N, I never would have lost her."

"Still... she said she'd back off," Harry says, feeling uncomfortable with the current subject. There is no excuse for what Gwen did, but she did look like she had learned her lesson.

"We want to help," Betty admitted, causing a bit of hope to fill Peter's mind. So far, all he's heard was "let the adults handle this". Knowing that his friends want to help find you was like a breath of fresh air.

"Yeah. It doesn't feel right to sit back and do nothing when Y/N is who knows where," Harry sighs, patting Peter on the back.

"Thanks, guys," Peter replies, smiling for the first time since you've disappeared. "That means-"

Before he could finish, he turned around, and not a second later, an explosion went off right across from the school.

"What the f-"

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

"I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that you never told us that Y/N was adopted," Clint says as he paces back and forth in the compound. He didn't have the slightest idea that anything was going on until he received a call telling him that you were missing and that help was needed tracking you down.

"He had his reasons; now are you going to focus more on that or finding Y/N?" Pepper replied, defending Tony. Although she agrees that Tony should have told you, she knows that he had his reasons.

"Maybe she doesn't want to be found?" Clint asks, although the second it came out of his mouth, he knew it sounded stupid.

"No," Steve says, his arms crossed in concentration. "I've known Y/N for a long time, and she's a good kid. She's going through stuff right now, but she'd never run away or leave Happy alone while he's in the hospital. Something else is going on, and I'd bet it had to do with those two."

The TV displayed everything they knew so far. The two likely suspects were none other than Eloise Day and Ezekiel Stane. Security footage showed you getting into Eloise's car, which was later found outside a shambly apartment building. After further inspection, your phone was found inside of the apartment belonging to Ezekiel Stane.

"Agreed". Tony stared at the screen, trying to figure out if there is anything he's missing. He knows that Ezekiel is the son of his old business partner. Tony knows that Eloise was a new student who gained your trust. What he didn't realize was their connection and what their goal is.

"If-When we find her, you need to tell her the truth," Steve tells him.

"Yeah, we'll go out for cheeseburgers and laugh about it. Am I right?" Tony snaps. It was clear that he knew who your real father is and that you might already know him too. "I- I don't want her to hate me when I tell her."

"Trust me. Y/N will understand if your heart was in the right place," Steve encourages, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. For a second, Tony's shoulders slump before his resold seems to harden.

"Her real dad is-"

"I think you'll be able to tell her yourself," Nat speaks urgently. "Y/N's been spotted in Queens."

"Let's suit up."

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

You couldn't help but feel as though your plan was about to fail. Eloise and Ezekiel have recently kept a closer eye on you than usual, which isn't good. You have a feeling that they're on to you, which means that you might have to improvise.

"Play along," Ezekiel mutters in your ear before roughly grabbing your arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eloise pointing some blaster at you that looks too much like the one that Hydra dude shot you with.

Before you can ask what he was doing, a familiar figure swung in front of you.

"Let her go," Peter demands. Although you cannot see his face, you can tell he's angry. You felt bad for putting him through this, but in the long run, you'll have to put him through it a little longer.

"Fat chance, you spider freak!" Eloise roars, suddenly pointing the blaster at Peter.

"Wait-" You yell, but your voice is drowned out by Ezekiel's yells as Eloise pulls the trigger.

It was like everything was happening in slow motion. You wanted to scream for Peter, but the shot never made it to its target. Instead, it met with a familiar red, white, and blue shield.

"Whatever happened to my signal?!" Ezekiel yelled at Eloise, who rolled her eyes for the one-hundred-millionth time that day.

"I'm not letting you crap on my chance again, old man!" She barks at him as she continues firing the blaster. By now, all of the Avengers seem to have shown up, and her target was everyone.

"Don't you d-" He yells, but she ignores him.

Cursing, he tries to pull you away from the fight as he tries to think of a new plan. You already knew what needed to happen, but you weren't sure if you were ready to see everyone's faces when you are forced to betray them.

"So is this a thing now? Kidnapping my daughter for revenge or something?" your dad asks as he lands in front of you and Ezekiel, ready to fight.

"Who said I kidnapped her?" Ezekiel smirks. You wanted to wipe the arrogance off his face, but you couldn't. You had a job to do.

"Dammit," You curse. You press the button on your bracelet that morphed into your "new" suit. You didn't want to see the looks everyone will give you, so as you took down the people you call your family, you couldn't look them in the eye.

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#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader insert #tom holland peter parker #avengers #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!daughter #tony stark x daughter reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #avengers x y/n #dad!iron man x avenger!reader #(Y/N)s dad is...#peter parker x stark!reader #spider man x y/n #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x avenger!reader #spider man x reader

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Love Runs Its Course

Is it clear yet that I’m just using this as an excuse to write sappy, indulgent human AUs with queerplatonic relationships? Because if not, I need to try harder. Anyway, commence coffee shop AU.

(Tagging @tsshipmonth2020! Title is from Call My Name by the Unlikely Candidates! You can find this story on Ao3 here.)

Prompt: Everyone has a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate. 

Pairing: Pre-relationship Anxceit.

Words: 9501

Warnings: death and murder mentions but nothing actually occurs, anxiety, minor panic attack, cursing, self-deprecation, scars, mention of a car accident

If there was one thing Virgil hated about people—which there wasn’t, he hated a ton of things about people, from their annoying voices, to their questions about what he was going to do with his life, to the way they always stepped a little too close to him, to the fact that they generally existed and that put a cramp in Virgil’s style, but if he had to pick one thing—it’d be that they always asked about his soulmate.

He kept his timer covered. Countdowns freaked him out, and he’d rather not be staring at his wrist all day. He had a general idea of when he was going to meet his soulmate—probably in the next year or so, or maybe he should have met them by now, or maybe something had gone wrong and he’d never meet them ever and that was why he didn’t look at the goddamn timer. He tried not to think about soulmates in general. It was easy enough. He just focused on panicking over the things he could control, like his college courses and remembering his coffee order and not destroying every friendship in his life.

Soulmates were an enigma, an unknown, and Virgil did not do well with unknowns. They promised a person—or persons—who would understand you, complete you, show you a path you’d never even considered.

That was a terrifying concept. Virgil did not like to be known, for starters. He’d perfected the angry-emo look over the years, complete with shredded jeans and liberally-applied eyeshadow, so he would be the exact opposite. Intimidating. Off-putting. People looked once and looked away, and that was just what Virgil wanted.

He didn’t need a soulmate coming in and prying him open.

He was doing just fine on his own.

Except everyone kept asking. They’d glance down at his wrist, covered by his favorite purple hoodie, and ask if he’d met his soulmate yet. If they were dating. If they planned to get married. Apparently, by the age of twenty-one Virgil was supposed to have met his soulmate, even though he hated going outside and the world had literally billions of people in it. And planning to get married? Virgil wasn’t out of college.

Fuck people.

Sometimes, Virgil would just growl a noncommittal noise and ignore the question. If he was in a talkative mood, he’d say “Haven’t met them.”

Some people took that as a cue to change the subject. But others immediately started reassuring Virgil that he’d find them soon, that the universe would bring them together, and how long did he have left anyway? And Virgil was stuck in the conversation until he could find a polite way to leave, or his friends could bail him out.

They didn’t seem to get that he didn’t want reassurance. That being without his soulmate wasn’t a terrible isolation. He had friends—shocking but true, and something Virgil was still getting used to—and he had a life. He wasn’t going to drop everything to chase some mystical match. He had exams coming up. And soulmates were bullshit, anyway.

Roman would probably take offense to that. But they were. Virgil wasn’t about to trust fucking fate to pick out his missing piece or whatever. God might not play dice with the universe, but it was still a pretty weird matching game—or it was like when the whole class got gift bags and they tossed different gifts randomly into each one. Some people got toy trains or glitter pens. Virgil got a small wooden duck.

Yeah, that was what soulmates were like. Surprise gift bags filled with good toys and bad toys, and some people lucked out and some people didn’t, and some people’s gift bags got lost in the mail, and it was really fucking stupid to have gift bags anyway because who even asked? They’d just been handed them, sparkly and crinkly and leaking confetti, and been told “Here, you get this, take care of it.” No opt-out program. No “thanks, but no thanks” option. Just a heavy gift-bag filled with stuff nobody wanted, being told that they were special for having it.

And of course there were timers.

Because it wasn’t horror-movie enough to have a person specifically assigned to your soul. There were timers, and the numbers counted down, thick and black and rolling through the years, then the months, then the days and minutes. It was like being branded. Virgil had tried to scrub his off in ninth grade, just to see if he could, and the skin around it was left raw but the numbers never disappeared.

Virgil hated numbers. He’d never liked math, and numbers usually came in statistics about death or statistics about poverty or algebra he didn’t understand. And timers. Numbers came in timers and counted down to the moment where Virgil would be stuck with someone for the rest of his miserable existence.

Great.

Fucking fantastic.

Yay, soulmates.

Virgil guessed he should count himself lucky that he hadn’t met his yet. It wasn’t all luck, though—like he said, he barely left the house. But his soulmate wasn’t in his college, either. He’d been worried about that. Or maybe his soulmate was just as antisocial as he was. Maybe that’d be alright. They could avoid each other for the rest of their lives.

He covered up his timer, tried not to think about soulmates, and let the anxiety hum in his chest as a constant low-grade buzz. He’d made it this far. Everything was fine right now, no matter what his wrist said, itching under his hoodie and a black smudge in the mirror.

Everything was fine and Virgil was going to graduate college and become a graphic designer and live with several pet spiders and die at a ripe old age from colon cancer. Soulmate-less and perfectly happy.

Well, as happy as he could ever get, which wasn’t very.

People said that was because he didn’t have his soulmate yet. As if diagnosed anxiety and low self-esteem would be magically fixed by some asshole walking into his life and smiling at him. And they wondered why Virgil hated soulmates.

So yeah. Maybe Virgil wasn’t happy happy. But he was alright, and he was alive, and he had friends and a life and some kind of future. He’d stayed on his feet, which was more than he or his therapist really expected, and he had a job, too—at a coffee shop, but a job. It didn’t pay well and each shift was a nightmare and Remy the manager wasn’t the hugest asshole but was still a little bitch, and Virgil hated it utterly. But it was a job. And fucking student loans weren’t going to magically vanish if he just ignored them. Much as he wished that was possible.

He wished the universe spent less magic on soulmates and more magic on paying off student debt. Now that would be useful.

“Student debt,” he’d recite to himself after the third customer called him a name.

“Student debt,” he’d mutter as he mopped up a spilled caramel machiatto.

“Student debt,” he’d remind himself when Remy popped out to talk with his soulmate, which left Virgil with extra shifts he couldn’t say no to, because student debt and also crippling social anxiety.

“Student debt,” he’d groan into his pillow as he collapsed in his bed, surrounded by textbooks he didn’t know well enough to avoid studying the next morning, wondering whether he should just quit school and become a mime. At least it didn’t involve talking to people. Or studying. Or spilled caramel machiattos.

On nights like that, he wondered if he’d even manage to get up the next morning.

But he always did.

Here, queer, and full of fear. Alone, on his own, and fine with never being known.

And working at a coffee shop at three in the afternoon, trying to memorize his science notes in-between orders, the day cloudy and soupy and making Virgil’s purple hair frizz up under his hoodie. His nametag had broken mid-morning, forcing him to duct-tape it in place. And he’d ran out for some groceries during his lunch break, and the groceries had fallen out and now he had to buy new ones in the time he didn’t have, and he hadn’t actually had lunch and was running on three shots of espresso that made him even more jittery than usual, and in general Virgil was about three seconds from curling into a ball on the counter and waiting for the world to stop existing.

That was when he walked in.

Afterwards, Virgil figured he probably should have had some huge moment of shock. A love-at-first-sight thing. Or at least, he should have noticed the guy before he was at the front of the line.

But he didn’t, and even when the dude was right in front of him, he’d just nodded and asked “What can I get for you?” in his best I’m-a-helpful-employee-and-three-seconds-from-killing-everything voice. Vaguely, he noted that the guy had a black beanie and dyed blond tips and a bored smirk like he was also three seconds from killing everything but in less denial about it.

Guy rattled off his order, Virgil nodded and tossed it over to Remy, told the guy to have a seat, the dude nodded and adjusted his beanie, shaking out his wrists--

And froze.

The next person in line bumped into him. He just stood there, staring at his hands, then back up at Virgil.

“Um, you can sit down,” Virgil said awkwardly. He’d been joking about the killing everything--ugh, if this was gonna be a scene, Remy would kill him. And he really wasn’t in the mood to shepherd some customer out the door.

The guy kept staring at Virgil. Virgil decided to stare right back with his patented don’t-fuck-with-me glare. That didn’t send him packing. Guy just kept on staring, and Virgil looked back at dark brown eyes and an old scar on a tan cheek, and blond curls and a flannel shirt and a mouth dropped open.

“Dude,” Virgil said, trying to crack a joke to deflect from his growing discomfort, “stop staring. I get that I’m awesome, but we do have other customers.”

Other customers who were starting to whisper. Remy was shooting Virgil a glare over the coffee machine. Shit. Some asshole was definitely making a scene on Virgil’s shift, and fucking dammit, of course he was.

“Hello?” Virgil waved a hand. “Dude, hello? Why are you just standing there like a deer in headlights?”

He hated himself the minute he said those words. Now the asshole was gonna snap and kill him or something.

“You--” Asshole pointed at him. He seemed to lose his words as soon as they came, just pointing a few more times. Then he turned his wrist over.

A black zero. It shone in neat ink on the skin.

“Um, good for you?” Virgil said hesitantly. “Sure your soulmate is very lucky. I don’t get what--”

Then it hit him.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Fuck. Fuck, piss, shit, goddammit, why.

Almost automatically, Virgil pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie.

A zero.

Virgil opened his eyes and closed them again, shook his wrist like it was a flashlight with an iffy battery, turned his wrist over and back again, rubbed at the skin. The number refused to change.

He’d met his soulmate.

Virgil looked up slowly. Asshole was still standing there, looking both patient and somewhat terrified all at once, with his stupid beanie and stupid flannel and stupid, stupid timer.

Fuck.

This.

Shit.

“We’re soulmates?” Asshole asked, as if it wasn’t abundently clear.

Virgil opened his mouth to snark “Yeah, apparently, and fuck this” or say “Maybe, who knows?” or ask the dude if he was ever going to sit down and let Virgil do his goddamn job.

He swallowed and closed it again.

His hands started to shake.

“We’re soulmates,” Asshole said, sounding not entirely pleased but not completely disappointed. It was like a package he’d long expected had finally delivered, but the edges were scuffed up and a few pieces were missing. Which was pretty fucking accurate. Poor guy--he might be an asshole, but he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Virgil.

Or maybe he did. Virgil knew literally nothing about him, not even his name.

Just that they were soulmates.

A gift in a gift bag, shoved into his hands in the middle of his shift, dropped on his doorstep with no return policy.

Here. You’re meant to get this. Keep it.

Virgil tried to take a deep breath and found his chest was too tight to allow it.

Shit, fuck, shit.

“Hey,” said Asshole Soulmate, stepping forward. “Are you...you look like you’re definitely taking this well.”

Oh, really? Virgil would have snapped if he wasn’t busy hyperventilating. Can’t imagine why my soulmate showing up out of the blue and ruining my shift wouldn’t be fucking ideal!

“I--” he stammered out instead. He looked wildly for an exit. He couldn’t be here anymore. Asshole was going to start asking questions, and he didn’t have answers or explanations, couldn’t piece together anything that explained how terrified he felt--

Breathing exercises. He used to know them. They’d all gone from his head. Fuck, shit, fuck. The whole place was too small. Too loud. The air was too hot and too still and brown eyes watched him, too concerned, too close--

“I have to go,” Virgil burst out.

And he pushed his way out from behind the counter, grabbed his backpack, and bolted out of the shop.

The door slammed shut behind him.

The last thing he saw was the face of his soulmate, staring after him, looking like he was three seconds from swearing as much as Virgil currently was.

In his head, of course. He didn’t think he could speak if he wanted to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Virgil ran. He tore down the sidewalk, sprinting around corners and skidding away from the road. People were probably staring. He couldn’t see their faces, though. They blurred around him. Too many colors, the air was thick and heavy and pressing onto him and he couldn’t breathe--

Virgil ducked into the nearest subway entrance. He stumbled his way down the steps, sure he was going to fall. Somehow he managed to get all the way to the bottom. A few people were gathered at the edges. It was blissfully cool.

Virgil’s feet rung out against the tiles. He rushed over to the turnstile and tried to push through. Fuck. His card. Fuck, fuck--Virgil yanked on his zipper, breaking it, and practically tore his way into his backpack. It took him three tries to scan his card. He slammed open the turnstile and sprinted into the station, took the first turn he saw, and ended up next to an empty track with a glowing sign proclaiming that the next subway was in fifteen minutes.

Perfect. He’d just stay here for fourteen, then. Subways themselves freaked him out--too loud, too sudden, and the people on them always sent Virgil shuddering--but the cool underground darkness of the station was a relief. No one was here to stare as he sunk to the ground, pulling his legs to his chest, stuttering his way through his breathing.

Five things he could see.

The dim yellow glow of the lights far above him, the dark tunnel, the dirty stairs covered in gum, the old mosaic walls, his smudged sneakers.

Four things he could feel.

His hoodie, soft and comfortable around him. The strap of his backpack around his arm. The cool floor below him--probably filled with disease and germs, but Virgil was past thinking about that. His bangs falling over his face.

Three things he could hear.

The scuttling of a rat--ew--the whistle of a subway far above him, the distant strains of a street performer strumming their way through Stairway to Heaven.

Two things he could smell.

He could smell a lot of things, all of them very bad and most of them unidentifiable. He took another deep breath. His own sweat, and moldy pizza. Maybe. It could be moldy anything.

One thing he could taste.

Virgil ran his tongue over his lips. The remains of this morning’s espresso.

His heart was hammering just a little bit less.

Virgil took one more deep breath, leaned back, and kicked out his legs. The pavement was cold and rough under his hands but helped pull him back into his body a little more. The rat shimmied into a hole and disappeared.

Ten minutes until that subway came.

So.

He’d met his soulmate.

“Fuck,” Virgil said out loud to the empty tracks and the lurking darkness around him.

Nobody responded.

Okay. Virgil met his soulmate. This was fine. This was fine! He’d just never talk to the guy again. They’d go on their own way and never have to interact again. The dude probably wouldn’t want to see Virgil again, after Virgil had run out of the coffee shop like he’d been lit on fire.

That was another problem.

“Shit,” Virgil said, more quietly. He didn’t think he’d be fired for it. Remy would be pissed, but Remy liked Virgil well enough, and Remy wouldn’t fire him over a panic attack. Still, it was really fucking embarrassing. And he’d have to go back. He had a shift to complete today--

Virgil paused and shook out his hands. His whole body felt like it had been wrung through the wash. Or run over by a subway.

He pulled out his phone.

One text from Remy: girl u ok?

Virgil rolled his eyes and huffed.

It took him three minutes to compose a text back.

taking the day off. u dont have 2 pay me. sry.

Virgil tapped on the ground to the rhythm of Remy’s little dots, trying and failing not to overthink what Remy was typing.

paying u anyway, but u owe me a cappucino tmrw, bitch

And then:

soulmate guy is still here btw. says he’s waiting to see if u want to come back

Virgil’s heartbeat, which had just reached a relatively normal resting rate, skyrocketed again.

The guy was still there? Didn’t he have stuff to do? A life? Why was he waiting around for some dude who’d stared at him then run out of the shop like a fucking weirdo?

Well, they were soulmates, weren’t they? That was the sort of romantic shit soulmates were supposed to do.

God, he hoped the guy wasn’t a fucking romantic. That’d be the worst. Virgil didn’t do romance, period. If Asshole Soulmate was looking for someone to smooch and bring flowers, he was out of luck.

Except it didn’t matter. They would never see each other again.

Virgil didn’t want to see him ever again.

He read Remy’s text again.

The sign above the tracks read three minutes left. If he didn’t hurry, he’d get caught off guard. He needed to go back up and walk home, then spend the rest of the day playing video games and eating snacks and practicing some fucking self-care.

He read Remy’s text a third time.

“Fuck,” Virgil remarked, just because he could, and because he hated everything about this.

He stood up, adjusted his backpack, and walked back up the steps.

The hot air hit him like a wall when he stepped outside. He shook himself and wished for a second that he could be comfortable meeting people without his hoodie. But he hated life without it, and he looked fucking awesome in it, so now he had to suffer.

Virgil pushed through the crowds, head low, and made his way back to the coffee shop.

It was still crowded when he peeked through the glass windows. Remy and the others were bustling around in their aprons--that’s when Virgil realized he hadn’t taken his apron off. Fuck. He untied it and shoved it mercilessly into his bag. Then he straightened.

A small tap sounded on the window.

Virgil looked over and almost spiraled into a second panic attack.

Asshole Soulmate was staring straight at him.

Virgil looked at him, gave him a little salute, and started to back away.

Asshole Soulmate gave him a piercing look. He was sitting at a small table, his laptop in front of him. He looked about Virgil’s age, Virgil figured, and he had a few piercings in one ear. That scar Virgil noticed earlier dipped into the curve of his mouth and made him look perpetually smirking. His beanie was lopsided like he’d been pulling at it. For some reason, Virgil found that kind of endearing. He had a firm nose and those deep brown eyes and long fingers that tapped at his laptop even as he watched Virgil--

And it didn’t matter what he looked like, because Virgil was leaving.

Something twisted in Asshole Soulmate’s expression when Virgil turned to walk away. Virgil pushed down the guilt in his chest. This was better for both of them. His soulmate would see that too, eventually.

Another tap on the window.

Virgil looked back despite himself. Asshole Soulmate was scribbling something on his notebook. He held up one finger as he wrote, clearly telling Virgil to give him a second.

Virgil gave him that second, shifting from foot to foot, hands deep in his pockets. It was a mistake coming here, it just made him look weird, he needed to go--

Asshole Soulmate pressed his notebook against the window.

In neat black cursive were the words I will be here for twenty-four hours. If you’re interested in stopping by, I can make room for you on my schedule. The coffee here is mediocre, and tell your boss to add more sugar to the scones.

-Janus

Virgil stared at him.

Asshole Soulmate winked--actually winked, what planet was this guy from--and gave Virgil a secretive smirk. As if they were in on the joke together.

Virgil had never been more fucking confused in his entire life.

He’d met his soulmate, stared at his soulmate, and ran away. And said soulmate was waiting for him. Said soulmate was a dyed-hair college student with a smirk that screamed hide your wallet and neat cursive handwriting and glittering brown eyes.

His soulmate.

Janus.

J-A-N-U-S. Clear and dark against the window.

Virgil swallowed.

Janus. A weird name, but not bad, and it definitely matched the general weirdness of this guy. He swung the notebook away from the window and returned to typing, somehow completely ignoring Virgil and yet making it perfectly clear he knew Virgil was still standing there. Like a lost duck. Alone on the sidewalk, watching his soulmate tap at his computer at the smallest table in the coffee shop.

Another chair was pulled up on the other side. Room for two.

If Virgil wanted.

Virgil didn’t want.

Virgil turned away. Virgil walked home, backpack swinging from his shoulder, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want a soulmate. Virgil spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and eating ice cream, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want trouble. Virgil ate reheated chicken and old celery for dinner, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want a relationship. Virgil curled up on the couch and listened to his music, and didn’t go back because he didn’t want someone to complete him, someone to be stuck with him, someone who was a perfect match for Virgil according to the universe, but who knew what that actually meant in practice. He knew nothing about this guy.

And he didn’t want to learn.

Because he knew how this went. Love would run its course, and then there would be heartbreak, because Janus would learn that Virgil was just a screwup with dark clothes and anxiety and trust issues and a life with no trajectory.

Janus would stop waiting. No matter if the guy was a romantic or really nice or just stubborn, eventually he would give up.

Everyone always did.

Including Virgil.

Virgil didn’t want Janus, and he knew Janus wouldn’t want him, and the smartest thing to was just to move on with his life.

The zero on his wrist itched.

Fuck soulmates. Fuck Janus. Fuck the whole entire fucking universe.

It was eleven o’clock, and Virgil couldn’t sleep.

He wondered if Janus liked hugs. He wondered if Janus liked old, weird costumes. He wondered if Janus liked makeup and horror movies and drawing and coffee. He wondered if Janus was his age. Maybe they went to the same college. He wondered if Janus used the same hair dye he did, and if they could help each other with their hair, because Virgil always did it on his own and ended up staining his hands and his face and the whole kitchen sink.

He wondered if he was a fucking idiot for even considering this.

No, he knew that. Virgil was an idiot. Virgil was a complete fucking moron who looked at a dark hole, knew how to avoid it, and thought about falling in anyway just to see what it was like.

Just to see what he was like.

Janus, with his stupid smirk and stupid cursive and stupid hat.

It was a really stupid hat. Only Janus could even pull it off, and he barely did. It was just on the edge of charming and if Virgil was being really uncharitable, it was crossing that edge into straight-up ridiculous.

Virgil wondered how he got his scar. Where he got his shirt. What he was working on in the coffee shop, whether he’d been there before, who told him. He’d ordered a scone. He had complaints. Maybe he liked to cook and bake. That’d be pretty cool, Virgil missed home-cooked food, he usually just microwaved some takeout--

What was he even thinking?

Virgil groaned and turned over on the couch, grabbing one cushion and pulling it over his head. Fuck home-cooked meals. Fucking beanies. Fucking domestic little scenes that he now found playing out in his head, as if that was realistic, as if he hadn’t just met the guy and immediately ruined it and decided he’d never see him again.

Soulmates.

Fucking soulmates.

Fucking soulmates who were probably still at the coffee shop. He’d said twenty-four hours. He’d still be there. It was a twenty four-hour shop and he’d still be sitting there, maybe working on whatever he was working on, smirking with that smirk of his and waiting for Virgil.

Stubborn. Kind of stupid. Maybe a little desperate, too.

Virgil was all three, so he had to respect that.

It was midnight now. Virgil should be sleeping. Sleep deprivation was bad for his anxiety, which was already a thick mass in his chest. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have his second panic attack of the day, and that’d be a fucking nightmare.

Virgil sighed and curled up tighter on the couch. He wasn’t tired. His brain was running at the speed of light and kept circling back to Janus, Janus waiting, Janus his soulmate and bound to be disappointed but what if--what if--

Virgil wasn’t a hopeful person. He liked being either pessimistic or downright cynical--it left less room for disappointment.

He was hoping now, though, and it terrified him.

“Fuck!” he yelled into his empty apartment.

The only response was the dull throb of a party downstairs, a steady beat that made Virgil’s head swim.

He’d never wanted to be stuck in the city. But he hadn’t thought he could handle the college dorms, so he’d grabbed an apartment, and found he could handle that even less.

Virgil was a mess. A failure. A twenty-one-year-old disappointment with a test tomorrow and a brain that wouldn’t shut up and a bunch of pipe dreams he knew would never come true. This was just one of them. Soulmates, lucrative jobs, moving to Venus and becoming a planetary god--they all seemed like crap in the light of day.

It wasn’t day, though. It was late at night and Virgil’s brain was fried and the heat had finally died down. It would be nice outside. Walking around the city at late wasn’t super safe, but he’d take a switchblade and some pepper spray, and the coffee shop was just down the street.

He was actually considering this, wasn’t he?

Fuck.

Janus was waiting for him. Janus wouldn’t leave for twenty-four hours, and at the very least, he should give Janus an excuse to stop waiting. Janus would need some sleep.

Virgil needed some sleep too, and Janus was the thing keeping him from it, the face in his mind when he closed his eyes.

He should at least apologize.

Virgil sighed, rolled off the couch, pulled on his hoodie, and slipped into his shoes. He double-checked the lock on the apartment door, ran his hands over his pepper spray, and took the stairs because the elevator might get stuck or catch on fire. He walked as fast as he could down the sidewalk, avoiding the crowds of people under the neon lights, clouds drifting over the sky and skyscrapers gleaming in the distance.

The coffee shop was lit up when he approached. He told himself Janus was probably gone. He was fucking with Virgil, maybe, or he’d just gotten bored and went home. This was stupid, this whole thing was stupid, and Virgil could just turn around and go home--

Janus was still sitting there. He was nursing a huge cup of coffee and a plate next to him with a half-finished croissant. His chin was in his hand and he kept yawning, but he was still blinking blearily at his laptop screen.

Well, fuck.

Virgil sighed. He’d come too far to turn back now, and any minute Janus would look up and see Virgil standing outside the coffee shop again.

Okay. He was...he was going to order some coffee. And he’d sit down and if Janus motioned him over, he’d sit with Janus. But he wouldn’t make the first move. That meant he’d have plausible deniability if...well, he didn’t know exactly what, but maybe if Janus was trying to argue with him or kill him. How would he know?

Midnight coffee shop. The perfect place for a murder.

Virgil shook himself. It wasn’t empty. Remy was right there. And if shit got real, Virgil had pepper spray and could bolt out of there again.

This was fine.

This was completely fucking fine.

Virgil took a deep breath, buried his hands tight in his hoodie, and opened the door.

Virgil barely ever took late-night shifts at the shop. They weirded him the fuck out--he preferred to stay inside when it was dark. And when it was too sunny, and when it was crowded, and just generally, but especially at night. Night was filled with murderers and vampires and shadow demons. Weirdass people got coffee at midnight and Virgil didn’t want to ever have to deal with them.

And now he’d become one of those weirdass people.

And he was seeing the coffee shop in a whole new light, the floor gleaming with yellow, the windows practically opaque except for pricks of red and white lights from the city around them. It was dead quiet except for the low hum of music, the occasional shifting of one of the only customers, and Remy wiping down the counter.

Virgil let the door swing shut behind him. It thudded way too loud and he jumped. All the customers looked up. Old dude with a salt-and-pepper beard, younger woman with long blue hair and more piercings than skin, and Janus. Janus. Janus looked up at Virgil and raised one eyebrow.

Virgil pointed to the counter, hoping it conveyed “I’m gonna get a coffee and decide whether or not I’m gonna bolt again. Stay there.”

Janus nodded and turned away. The light from his laptop illuminated the planes of his face and the way his eyes kept flickering up to Virgil. Virgil hunched into his hoodie and pointedly ignored him.

Remy gave Virgil a searching look when Virgil reached the counter. “Hey, babes.”

“Hey, Remy.” Virgil looked around at the menu. “Espresso with--”

“Hold on, no way.” Remy tipped his sunglasses down and shook his head. “You had one this morning, girl, and that stuff ain’t good for you.”

“Says you,” Virgil pointed out.

“Shut up, this stuff is my lifeblood. But there’s still hope for you.” Remy took a swig of his own coffee. “Anyway, you won’t sleep for a week if I give you more espresso, so nah, girl, try again.”

“It’s midnight,” Virgil complained. “And Rem, I’m not gonna get through this conversation without it.”

Remy paused and sighed. “I guess the customer is always right. One espresso, double shot--”

“Triple shot.”

“Double shot, bitch, or I’ll throw it at your head.” Remy slid over to the coffee machine and started it up. “So...you’ve got a boyf.”

Virgil almost hissed. “I do not!”

“Fine, you’ve got a pre-boyf.” Remy popped up and began filling a coffee cup. He glanced at Janus, who was studiedly not looking at them, though Virgil was pretty sure he was listening. “He’s alright, kinda fine, the hat is stupid.”

“The hat is stupid,” Virgil agreed.

Janus stopped typing. Virgil watched to see what he would do.

He turned around and flipped them both off.

Well. That was more entertaining than expected. Virgil smirked and returned the gesture, and Janus snorted before returning to his work.

“You’re made for each other,” Remy drawled.

Virgil growled, the smile immediately falling off his face. “Give me the fucking coffee.”

“Yikes, girl, would a ‘please’ kill you?” Remy slid Virgil’s coffee over. “Now pay up.”

“I’m an employee.”

“And I’m fabulous and don’t want to be here. Tough tits, emo.”

Virgil groaned and slapped a five on the counter. “One of these days I’m quitting.”

“Sure, babes.” Remy slipped the bill into the register and gave Virgil a little wave. “Say hi to your pre-boyf. And don’t worry,” he added, smile growing a little softer, “I’ll kick his ass if necessary.”

“You couldn’t fight your way out of a coffee cup,” Virgil said, but he gave Remy a little salute anyway.

And with coffee in hand, he took another deep breath and walked over to Janus.

Janus had already moved his things off the table, which meant there were several stacks of binders and textbooks by his feet. He shuffled a few papers, stuck them under the lid of his laptop, and closed it slowly. Virgil nodded at him and sat in the other chair, kicking at the ground, taking a sip of the coffee. It wasn’t espresso. It was a pumpkin spice latte. Goddammit, Remy.

“Hello,” Janus said slowly, and Virgil looked up.

There was a good three inches of space between them. It wasn’t enough to make Virgil feel less trapped, less gutted under Janus’ gaze.

Virgil fidgeted with his coffee and kicked at the table leg instead. It made the whole table wobble. Janus gave him a look and steadied his notebooks.

“Lot of stuff,” Virgil remarked, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Do you usually bring the Amazon Rainforest to a coffee shop?”

“Yes, I carry it upon my back as penance for my many crimes.” Janus snorted. “Patton dropped it off later, after I decided I was staying.”

“Patton?”

“My roommate.” Janus waved a hand. “I figured I would get some studying done while I waited.”

“You’re in school?” Virgil asked. He wished he’d brought his fidget toy or something. Instead, he was left sipping a pumpkin spice latte and staring out the window instead of at Janus. Janus didn’t seem to mind, but still, Virgil wished he could curl up in his hoodie and disappear.

“College,” Janus said. “You?”

“College.” Virgil shifted. “I’m--assuming the same one?”

Janus shook his head. “I actually live in Britain. I just teleport here for the coffee.”

Virgil stared at him for a second before his tired brain realized the sarcasm. He snorted in surprise. Janus looked weirdly pleased with himself.

“What do you study?” Janus asked after a few seconds.

“Oh, um--” Virgil shifted. “Graphic design.”

“Graphic design,” Janus repeated, a smile playing around his lips. “So your career aspirations are poverty and well-designed party invitations.”

Usually, that would make Virgil angry. He didn't like when people made fun of his major. But the obvious tease in Janus’ voice, plus the way he laid it all out on the table, made Virgil weirdly relaxed. Janus could bite back. And that was kind of a relief. He wasn’t just a bland nice guy, which meant maybe--just maybe--he was a little bit equipped to handle Virgil.

“What about you?” Virgil asked.

“Double major,” Janus said. “Theater and psychology.”

“Got it.” Virgil smirked and decided to take a risk. “So your career aspiration is being a super villain.”

And Janus laughed, bringing his hand up to his mouth, eyes crinkling.

It was a nice laugh.

Not that Virgil cared, of course.

“Of course, can’t you tell?” Janus asked, still chuckling. “I think I could pull off a cape.”

“Sure,” Virgil said, a little bubble of confidence forming. “Just like you pull off the hat.”

“I don’t understand all the hat hate!” Janus exclaimed, a twitch at the corner of his mouth showing he was teasing again, and Virgil usually hated sarcasm and in-jokes. Too confusing. Too double-edged and shifty. Except with Janus, it was so blatantly obvious every time, and Virgil didn't have to worry about hidden meanings. He just got to...talk. And tease back.

He almost never got to do that.

“Surely you’ve worn a hat once,” Janus continued, folding his arms. “You must understand the art if you’re to judge me. Have you worn a hat?”

“Wow, pretty quick with the personal questions there,” Virgil said. “You don’t even know my name.”

“It’s Samantha.”

“Fuck you.” Virgil paused. “Um, not literally. I’m ace. And--aro.”

And Janus looked ridiculously relieved. “Oh, thank fuck, you’re sensible. I was worried about that.”

A flicker of hope in Virgil’s chest. “You’re--”

“Aro too.” Janus waved a hand. “And sexuality is a quagmire that baffles me. We’re on the same page.”

Virgil almost smiled.

“What is your name?” Janus asked idly, stirring a spoon in his coffee and watching Virgil with that same piercing look. “I've been calling you Emo Soulmate in my head and it’s not at all annoying.”

“Well, you were Asshole Soulmate,” Virgil said, and enjoyed another laugh from Janus. “But no, I’m not telling you my name. You’re a stranger.”

Janus gave an offended little gasp and pressed a hand to his heart. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Nope.”

“That’s fucking rude, Emo Soulmate.” Janus shook his head sorrowfully. “No manners at all.”

“Deal with it.” Virgil gave up on his pumpkin spice latte entirely. He shot Remy a glare. Remy was cleaning the counter again, humming to himself and occasionally giving Virgil finger guns. Virgil flipped him off and Remy cackled.

“So,” Janus said finally, “if names are off-limits, is there anything I do get to know about you?”

“I told you my major.”

“Lots of idiots are graphic designers, you’re not special.” Janus paused. “I...I feel like we got off on a less-than-great foot--”

“Yeah, you think?” Virgil caught himself before he could continue. “It, um--wasn’t your fault though. Um. Go on.”

“Thank you,” Janus said smoothly. It was unfair that he got to be so poised and Virgil was still trembling under the table. One of the customers left, the door thudding shut behind them, a blast of night air whipping Virgil’s bangs and making him shiver in his hoodie. “As I was saying, I’d--I’d like to get to know you.”

“Creepy,” Virgil said. “What do you want, an ice-breaker session? What color matches your soul?”

“Yellow,” Janus said immediately.

“What--” Virgil laughed. “You actually have an answer?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Janus spread his hands. “What about you?”

“I don’t--” Virgil covered his mouth as he laughed harder. “Dude, no. Just--no.”

“You’re probably black,” Janus said, undeterred.

“To match my coffee and my soul?”

“And the emo aesthetic, of course.” Janus paused. “Actually, I think you'd be more purple. Since you like purple.”

“I like purple?”

“I would hope so, since you’re wearing that hoodie and fidgeting with the sleeve like it’s your only lifeboat in a sea of insanity.”

Virgil flushed. “Um. Yeah. I do like purple. I--made this hoodie, actually. Back in high school. It’s a comfort thing, makes it easier to feel like I’m hiding, which makes my brain shut up for a bit.”

Then Virgil decided he was going to die in a hole, because why had he said all that, Janus was gonna be weirded out--wait, since when did he care about that--

“It looks good on you,” Janus said, and Virgil almost choked on thin air. “It’s stitched quite well--edgy yet strangely charming.”

Virgil recovered himself enough to smirk. “That’s what I was going for.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Janus glanced out the window. A car careened past them on the street, headlights swirling in the darkness.

“It’s late,” Virgil said idly, because he might as well just dig himself deeper at this point.

“You were the one who chose to meet at this time,” Janus pointed out.

“What would you do if I didn’t?” Virgil asked. They were entering dangerous territory, but he clenched his fists and soldiered on. “Fall asleep on your mountains of paper, alone and bereft?”

“Oh, darling, no.” Janus swirled his coffee. “You see this? Seven espresso shots. If I want to stay awake, I do.”

“Remy let you have seven?” Virgil blurted out. “Not fair!”

“It’s because I seduced him,” Janus said with a poker face.

Virgil snorted. He didn’t like his laugh much, which wasn’t usually a problem because he didn’t laugh very often. Now, though--maybe it was the late night, but he almost couldn’t stop himself.

“Anyway, it’s not like I’m new to this,” Janus added, taking a sip of coffee. “I am double-majoring, after all.”

“Yeah, and that’s fucking impressive,” Virgil said. “I think I’d die of stress.”

“The jury’s still out on me,” Janus admitted.

Silence again. Virgil tapped his fingers against the glass. It was cold beneath his touch and he shivered.

“I still like the question idea,” Janus finally said.

“Then shoot,” Virgil said, shrugging. “I don’t bite.”

“I doubt that.”

Virgil grinned and bared his teeth. Janus hissed back, his nose wrinkled. It was actually really adorable.

Janus composed himself quickly, though. “What’s your favorite animal?”

“Spiders,” Virgil said without hesitation. “Favorite food?”

“The souls of the innocent.” Janus snickered when Virgil did. “I suppose...caviar?”

“Caviar,” Virgil repeated, shaking his head. “You can’t be real, you pretentious little fuckwad.”

“Charming, do you treat all your acquaintances this way?” Janus didn’t sound mad at all. “And I’m most certainly real. Unless I’m not.”

“Dude, don’t give me an existential crisis, c’mon.” Virgil bit his lip. “Your turn for questions.”

“Favorite book?”

“Black Cauldron. Favorite movie?”

“The Godfather. Favorite musical?”

“Um, Heathers.” Janus gave Virgil an of course look and Virgil swatted at him. “Favorite show?”

“Pride and Prejudice miniseries, 1995.” Janus paused. “I’m simultaneously learning nothing and everything about you.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause this is shallow shit,” Virgil said. “If you wanna actually know what I’m like beneath the eyeliner, you have to dig deeper.”

“Am I allowed to?” Janus asked.

Virgil opened his mouth to say no, of course not, vulnerability was his kryptonite and trust was his poison, and in fact he really had to go.

“Yes,” Virgil said.

Janus looked surprised. He couldn’t possibly be more surprised than Virgil felt. Virgil, who figured he’d lost control of his brain or something, because he was talking to a stranger who was his soulmate and it was midnight in a coffee shop and Janus glowed golden against the dark windows.

“Well, then.” Janus tapped on the table. “Where did you grow up?”

“Stalker,” Virgil muttered.

“You did say--”

“I know, I know.” Virgil hunched his shoulders. Honestly, that wasn’t as bad as he expected. “Outside of the city, actually. Few miles out. Suburbs.”

“You in suburbia? Perish the thought.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t a good match.” Virgil chewed on his lip. “Do I? Get to ask you questions too?”

“Yes. My turn.”

“Hey!” Virgil complained. Janus laughed.

“Who’s your best friend?” Virgil blurted out before Janus stole his question.

“Look who’s the stalker now,” Janus drawled. “I...Patton, my roommate, I suppose. I don’t--have many close friends.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, “me neither.”

There was a long moment of silence. Remy had gone in the back and all the customers except for them were gone. The tables and floors gleamed in the light. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed, muted by the gentle hum of music and the bubbling roar of traffic. It felt surreal. Too polished, too bright, too sharp to be real. Like Virgil would wake up tomorrow and know he’d never met his soulmate, his timer still counting down, Janus just a figment of his imagination.

Virgil looked down at his wrist for confirmation. A zero, in black ink, outlined in yellow by the harsh lights of the shop

“What do you want?”

Virgil looked up at Janus, who had that penetrating expression again, like he was trying to commit every bit of Virgil to memory. Virgil didn’t get what was so interesting. He had purple hair and purple patches on his jacket and messy eyeliner and probably some sort of scowl. But Janus looked at him like Virgil had all the secrets of the universe and Janus was decoding them, one by one.

Again, it should have been scary.

Virgil wasn’t scared.

And that, in itself, scared him.

“Be more specific,” Virgil said. “Like, right now? Right now I want some real coffee, for starters.”

“Not that,” Janus said, waving a hand. “From...life, I suppose. What’s your biggest dream?”

Virgil shifted. “I dunno. I don’t think about it much.”“You don’t?”

“Nah, anxiety makes it pretty freaky to think about the future.” Virgil thought for a second. “Um. I guess...I wanted to be a fashion designer, when I was little.”

Janus tilted his head. “What changed?”

“Didn’t have the time or materials.” Virgil shrugged and looked at the table. “Or...the drive, I guess. High school was rough and I needed a career path that gave me a quick buck.”

Janus snorted. “So you chose graphic design?”

“Shut up!” Virgil complained, swatting at Janus again. Janus dodged out of reach, grinning. “They both have design in them!”

“Whatever you say,” Janus chuckled.

“Anyway, yeah.” Virgil fidgeted with his sleeve. “Making clothes, making stuff--I still like to do it. So I guess that’s my dream, maybe.”

Janus looked thoughtful for a second, and Virgil felt like an idiot. Being a fashion designer was stupid. And here he was, dumping his life and regrets on a stranger. Fucking idiot.

“You’d be a good one,” Janus said, and once again, Virgil was thrown completely and utterly off guard. How did someone so surprising still set him at ease? “Of course I haven’t seen your work, but I like your jacket, and I think you’d be good at it. However, you have to promise to make me any outfit I want when you become famous.”

“Oh really,” Virgil said, feeling completely fucking exhilarated by the compliment. Which was pathetic, but it also gave him another burst of confidence, so worth it. “Let me guess, a cape, a red-and-black tunic with gold trim, a supportive uncle and firebending powers--”

“Scar jokes,” Janus said, his mouth twitching. “Bold.”

Virgil’s confidence immediately left him. “I--yeah, sorry--that was--”

“Funny,” Janus interrupted. “And it’s better than just ignoring it. I have a scar, it looks incredible if I do say so myself, and Avatar is a great show.”

Virgil smiled sheepishly. “You sure?”

“You’re fine.” Janus was silent for a long time, twisting his fingers together. Lights played across his face. The scar was old, Virgil noticed, and ugly, like it had never gotten properly stitched back together. Virgil rubbed at a grease spot on the edge of the table and let the quiet stretch between them.

“It was a car accident,” Janus said, his voice soft. “I was seven."

“Oh,” Virgil said, hating himself for not thinking of anything else. “That sucks.”

“Yes, it did.” Janus folded his hands on the table. “Your turn to ask a question, Emo Soulmate.”

“Oh! Yeah. Right.” Virgil bit his lip. “Um. Greatest fear?”

“Coming for me psychologically, I see. Excellent plan.” Janus shrugged. “Government control, I suppose. Or dying in obscurity.”

“Yeah, for me it’s just dying,” Virgil said, “but good for you.”

“Thank you.” Janus laughed and was silent again for a few more seconds. And Virgil usually hated the quiet, but this quiet was nice and comforting and felt more like a lull than an awkward pause, and why was this guy taking everything that usually made him anxious and somehow making it fine?

“Why did you run?”

Virgil’s fingers spasmed on the table. Well. So much for that.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to respond,” Janus said slowly, “but I’m curious.”

“I--” The words stuck in Virgil’s throat. “I was scared.”

“Of what?” Janus’ voice dipped. “Me?”

“No!” Virgil was surprised by the vehemence in his voice. “You’re--you were fine. A little awkward, but that made sense, and...yeah. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Good,” Janus said, and Virgil was surprised by the relief in his voice. He’d been worried about that, hadn’t he? He’d thought Virgil saw him and didn’t like him, or maybe he was even worried about his scar, and yet he’d still waited just in case Virgil came back and changed his mind.

God, Virgil didn’t deserve this soulmate.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Virgil said. “I’m sorry, I--”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Janus’ face was achingly soft. “I’d just like to know.”

“Yeah. I--” Virgil curled his fingers. “I was just--scared. I was scared of...soulmates. Having one. Being one. I guess I--I never really wanted one, and you just showed up, and I know you didn’t ask for me as your soulmate but--”

Janus didn’t prod Virgil or push him to continue, which weirdly, made him gain the courage he needed to keep going.

“I’m not--” Virgil waved at himself. “And you’re--ugh, I just, I hate what everyone says about soulmates, that they’re supposed to complete each other, to fix it each other. You--I’m not--you can’t fix me. I’m not--I’m anxious, I’m a mess, I’m not going to be good enough for you and you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of your life! That’s not--” Virgil swallowed. “That’s not fair to you.”

Janus was quiet. Virgil slammed his mouth shut, sat on his hands, and decided he was going to leave the city and become a strawberry farmer. Strawberry farmers didn’t have to talk to their soulmates and brace themselves for inevitable rejection, because Janus got it now, and now he was going to leave--

“I don’t like people,” Janus said.

Okay, yeah, Virgil didn’t expect that. He looked up hesitantly. Janus looked more determined than ever.

“Society is an illusion and the world is corrupt,” Janus continued. “Most people I meet are either mindless, dull, or sickeningly sweet. It’s a very rare person who actually manages to entertain me, and even rarer for them to be kind and funny and intelligent and very clearly a good person.”

Virgil stared at him. He thought he knew where Janus was going, but that couldn’t be right--why was he--

“And I’m a liar.” Janus shrugged. “It’s a defense mechanism. I’ve barely trusted anyone in my life, I lash out when people antagonize me, and I’m such a fan of vulnerability in general.”

“Mood,” Virgil said, his brain still screaming what the fuck is happening.

“So I’m not perfect,” Janus said. “And I must admit...I hoped, for a while, that a soulmate would magically erase those problems. It’s what society tells us. I had higher hopes than were healthy. I projected a lot of things onto that soulmate--trust and honesty and a chance to be--more than myself. To be, to use your word, fixed.” Janus laughed a bit. “But then I actually met you. And...no.”

“Rude,” Virgil muttered.

“No, I don’t mean it like that.” Janus leaned forward. “You’re not--you’re a person. You’re edgy and snarky and a little nervous but it’s incredibly adorable, and you make me laugh, and even though you were clearly terrified you came back and gave me a second chance. It’s hard to project anything onto you when you’re actually here, sitting in front of me, and that’s when I actually realized--” Janus shook his head. “You are not my soulmate because you’re supposed to fix me. And I am not your soulmate because I’m supposed to solve your problems. We’re soulmates because we make each other laugh, and because I think your hoodie is cute, and because you didn’t make any comments about my scar. We’re soulmates because we make each other feel better. Not perfect, not ‘fixed,’ just a little bit better. The rest of the work we have to do on our own.”

Virgil stared at him, mouth open.

“So.” Janus swallowed. “I completely understand your reservations, but...it’s getting late, and I think we both need some sleep. So I’d like to request your number?”

Virgil pressed a hand to his mouth and laughed. “That whole dramatic speech was just a ploy to get my number? Shame on you.”

“You caught me,” Janus said. His face softened. “If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I just...it’s hard to let go of all the expectations. But how about we try? How about we be you and me for a while, and see how that goes?”

“But--” Virgil shook his head. “Soulmates--they’re supposed to be your whole life--”

“Supposed to be. As I said, society is a sham.” Janus reached out a hand and laid it on the table, palm up. “I’m not asking for your whole life, and I never will. I’d--I’d just like to be a part of it.”

Virgil tried to catch his breath. His eyes were stinging. He giggled a little, because he couldn’t help it, and because Janus was staring at him with such open hesitation and fuck, he was cute.

He was cute.

He was Janus.

Janus was his soulmate--and Janus was Janus, and that was more important.

Virgil looked at the zero on his wrist, turned it over, and took Janus’ hand.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “That--that sounds great. Actually.”

“Lovely, darling.” Janus smiled, bright and beautiful, and Virgil was dizzy with affection. “In that case, may I have your number and your name?”

“Whoa, two at once? Easy there.” Virgil chuckled and tightened his grip on Janus’ hand. “Um. My name’s Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Janus repeated.

“Yeah.” Janus smiled wider. “It’s lovely to meet you, Virgil.”

Virgil looked back, at the guy he’d been so afraid of, the soulmate he’d hoped he’d never meet. Who wanted him. Who knew who he was and wanted him anyway.

Virgil’d had it wrong and also right, which pretty much added up. Yeah, he’d been wrong about the whole running thing. Janus wanted him. Janus waited, and Janus smiled, and Janus thought he was funny. Janus wanted his number.

Yeah, Virgil thought he’d been fine on his own. But he was so much better than fine with Janus across from him, holding his hand.

He’d been right, too. Soulmates didn’t matter. Not that much. Janus was his soulmate, and who the fuck knew what that meant? Not Virgil. It was just some gift bag dumped randomly on his doorstep, a timer clicking down to zero.It didn’t matter that Janus was his soulmate.

Because Janus was Janus, and Virgil’s skin was on fire where Janus touched it, and suddenly his wild dreams of a roommate and home-cooked meals and dyed hair didn’t seem too far off at all.

It didn’t matter that Janus was his soulmate, because even if he wasn’t, Virgil would stay.

Meant for each other? Maybe. Destined? Apparently. Supposed to complete each other? Yeah, only in the loosest of terms. Virgil was still Virgil and Janus was still Janus, soulmates or no.

And for some reason--for some incredible reason--that just made things better.

It didn’t matter that Janus was his soulmate.

Virgil liked him no matter what.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” Janus said again, as if he was repeating it to himself, rolling Virgil’s name around in his mouth. It sounded beautiful in his voice. Janus had a beautiful voice--thick and smooth and deep, like a river Virgil would gladly drown in.

And he glowed bright in the yellow lights of the coffee shop, the world rushing outside, the darkness kept at bay and the world polished and gleaming and on fire.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, finding that he was smiling wider than he ever had. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.”

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

@dramaticsnakes

Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

@katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @somehow-i-got-an-account @starlight-era @potatsanderssides @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @demoniccheese83 @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker @rainbowbowtie @lookingforaplacetosleep @a-fandom-trashdump @legendsgates @dragonwithproblems @snowdice @locked-prism @nonasficcollection @enby-phoenix @sign-from-god-complex @hitmewiththatfanart33 @cottonwoolsocks @callboxkat @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123 @hekking-happy-nonsense

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #anxeit #anxceit #averywrites #soulmate september #tw anxiety #tw cursing #qpr anxceit #soulmate au #human au #coffee shop au #look okay every story hits Different at midnight in a coffee shop #idk what to tell you #tw scars

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jokers-of-the-impractical · 3 years

Text

Brian Quinn Mini Series “I Found a Boy” Part 3 of 3

Part 1 Part 2

Content Warning: Implied Smut, Swearing

Word Count: 2100ish

The warm sunshine peeking through the curtains was a welcome contrast to the chilly weather that lay on the streets of Staten Island below you. You kept your eyes closed to savor the moment for just a short while more, but soon the serene beauty was interrupted by the sound of a beeping alarm clock altering it was now eight in the morning. You felt the bed shift next to you and knew Brian was turning to shut off the noise coming from your bedside table. The cats began to shift as well and leap down from their respective resting spots. As Q did so he leaned his face down and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, instantly a warmth began to rise to your cheeks. “Good morning sweetheart” he muttered out in a half asleep and still raspy voice with an adorable grin and messy hair strewn about his head. As he began to turn back over to get out of bed and begin prepping for the morning ahead of him, you wrapped both your arms around one of his and held on tight. “No. Five more minutes” you grumbled out. You glanced over to see him giggling to himself. He did his best to shimmy out of your arms but it was to no avail. Slowly you climbed on top of him, the satin of your pajama set grazing against his bare chest and boxers. You were not letting the love of your life and personal space heater get up this morning. You raised your head so that your eyes would meet his deep shining orbs lovingly gazing back at you. “Baby, I gotta go! Trust me the sooner I get to the production meeting, the sooner I get to come home and hang out with you.” You let out an overly dramatic sigh and slight chuckle escaped too.

“But Bri, why did they have to schedule a meeting on a weekend! I went to spend my day off with you.” With that you sat up with crisscrossed legs and crossed your arms across your chest. With the last word you let your lips pop out into a pout. He could tell you were joking around with him and sat up to make your eyes meet again. “Well… who knows Mrs. Quinn? Maybe once I get back we can reenact what happened late into the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Of course Mr. Quinn.” With that he planted a deep and passionate kiss on your lips before he rose from the bed and started to get ready for his meeting. As you cozied back into bed to escape the cold you silently watched him in awe, how did you get so lucky? You looked down to the engagement ring he had placed on your hand three years ago, and the wedding band that had resided with it for just under two years. You didn’t realize just how lost you had been in your thoughts until he was facing you again, dressed and his signature iced tea with lemon in a travel cup in tow with his car keys. But the smell of the tea today sent your stomach on a tilt-a-whirl. “Well my love, I’m off. I’ll be back before ya know it!” You pecked his lips and he made his way back downstairs and out the door. As soon as you were sure he wouldn’t hear you, you jumped up and sprinted to the bedroom’s ensuite bathroom to release the contents of your stomach. After you had finished, you kept wondering why all of the sudden the smell of iced tea and lemon made you puke? Then it hit you. You started rummaging through the cabinets in the bathroom until you found the hot pink boxes you were looking for. You pulled out the pregnancy tests that the rest of the guys got you as a one-year anniversary present. After making sure they hadn’t expired and how to use them, you go to business, using both just to be sure. You finished up and set the timer on your phone. As you waited you brushed your teeth to get the rancid taste out of your mouth from the unfortunate wake up call you had a few minutes prior. Once the timer chimed letting you know it was time to check, you slowly grabbed both tests and flipped them over to see the results. Both of them were the same. You were pregnant. An immense wave of joy and excitement washed over you. Now you were even more excited for Brian to get home so you could tell him the news. You knew he would be in the meeting until around eleven-thirty so you decided to take a quick shower and find other ways to occupy the time. After the warm droplets of water relaxed your muscles, you put your hair up in a messy bun and decided to throw on an oversized sweater and leggings. You then grabbed some papers you had to look over and grade that were sitting on your desk as well as your favorite bottle of nail polish. As you made your way downstairs to the living room you stopped at the framed photo of you and Brian from your wedding reception. It was a photo from your first dance. There you stood in your spaghetti strap ball gown, and hair done is a style reminiscent of Brigette Bardot with Bri looking very dapper in a tuxedo, he had just told you some silly joke so you were both looking at each other laughing. You could still feel the emotions and see the love in your eyes and his, you remember how happy you both felt them, and know you had the joys of parenthood to look forward to. Since grading elementary school papers was a total breeze you were now sitting with the tv on quietly for some background noise with a freshly dry mani and pedi while curled up and reading a book. Suddenly, loud knocking echoed abruptly throughout the house. You put your book down puzzled and followed the cats to the door. You were expecting anyone, but you opened the door anyway thinking maybe it was Amazon. As the door opened you soon met a familiar pair of eyes, those belonging to a certain ex boyfriend named Dean. “Dean? What are you doing here? Wait. How do you even know where I live?” He shoved his hands into his pant pockets and looked at you with a sheepish smile. “Hey Y/N. Can I come in? I’ve wanted to talk to you for quite some time, and I finally convinced Natasha to tell me your address.” You let out an exasperated sigh, and motioned for him to come in. You made a mental note to call your friend Nat and chew her out later. You knew that she was still friends with Dean after your breakup, but heck she was one of your best friends and bridesmaids! Why would she tell him! You led Dean to the small table in the kitchen, he took a seat while you leaned against the counter. You brewed yourself a mug of hot cocoa to calm the fury and nerves coursing through you. “Do you want anything?” “Um yeah, can I have water?” You went into the fridge, pulled out a bottle, handed it to him and took your place across the table. “What do you want Dean?” the annoyance was evident in your voice. “I just wanted to catch up, see how you were doing.” “I’m doing just fine. How’s Andi?” When you brought up your ex best friend and the girl he cheated on you with, he slightly flinched. “I’m okay. We ended things years ago.” “Aw. I hate to say I’m not surprised. So no other conquests or flings?” He just shook his head. You had no idea where all of this sudden confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. Throughout your relationship Brian had helped you grow even more and get even more brave and strong, if only he could see this now. “Are you still with that guy from TV? Nat told me it was pretty serious.” “Yeah I am still with Brian, in fact he should be back here soon.” You looked at him dumbfounded, did he honestly not know you and Brian had been married for almost two years now? You looked to see that the sleeve of your sweater was covering the rings on your finger. You went to slide the sleeve down to show him the rings, when he suddenly started speaking again while rising up from the table. “Look Y/N, the real reason I’m here is that… I know I messed up. But I’m here now, please leave this Brian guy and we can start over! I love you.” Now you shot up from the table too. “Are you kidding me! You think that after all this time you could just show up and expect me to take you back! I spent so much time crying over you and you didn’t care. Now that I am not only the best version of myself, but I am now happily with the love of my life you think you can show up, ask me to leave him and I’ll go with you? No! You can take all those crocodile tears and go cry me a river like I did over you a long time ago.” In all the commotion, you didn’t hear the front door open or close and the cats going to greet Q. Nor did you hear the footsteps making their way to the kitchen to hear what all the yelling was about. “Brian is the most amazing man in the world, and you will never be a tenth of the man he is! How dare you come here acting like you want me, now that I don’t need you or want anything to do with you.” Then a voice cut of your angry rant. “Aww baby! You really think I’m the most amazing man in the world?” You turned around to see your husband with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You ran over and jumped into his arms, while he spun you around in a hug. “Honey you’re home! How was your day? I-” You were soon cut off again by Dean. “Wait, you two live together?” You turned your head back to Dean. “Umm yeah. Married couples usually do.” “Wait, you’re married!” Brian then chimed in. “Yup, going on two years. Wait are you Dean?” Dean shook his head, and Brain placed you down gently. “Dude I gotta shake your hand man, cause if it wasn’t for you being a total asshole and idiot I may have never met Y/N. And she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He shook his hand vigorously. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe I have some lunch waiting for me and my beautiful wife. You can feel free to see yourself out.” With that Dean slumped his shoulders and began to make his way to the front door and you both heard the door open and close. You turned back to Brian and peppered kisses all over his face. “What’s all this for?” you motioned to the takeout and flowers. “Well, I felt so bad about you being here while I was in a meeting so one the way home I went to Chang’s and got our favorites, then I went by the flower stand and got these.” “Bri this is amazing! And I have a surprise for you too.” “Really? Well what is it?” You went back upstairs and grabbed one of the pregnancy tests and hid it behind your back. “Are you ready?” “Oh honey I was born ready!” “Okay, close your eyes, and stick out your hands.” Brian did as he was told and you placed the test gently into his hands. “Okay open ‘em!” Brian sprung his eyes open and looked down. He started at the test for a moment and then the gears started turning. Soon he was trying to get words out but couldn’t. “Y/N, are you?” “Pregnant? Uh-huh!” He grabbed you and picked you up again. ‘We’re gonna have a baby!” He kissed you yet again and set you down gently. The minute you were back on solid ground, his hands went straight to your tummy, and kisses soon followed. You both spent that evening cuddled up on your bed talking about the future until you fell asleep still intertwined and cats all around you both.

#brian quinn #Brian Q Quinn #brian quinn imagine #celebrity crush imagine #impractical jokers #impractical jokers imagine #imagine

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, mytumbler335!

For @mytumbler335 <3

Read On AO3

*****

Not A Silent Night

“What the fuck.” Summarises Derek’s morning. Dream? No, he’s fairly sure you can’t get a headache in a dream - and there was also the fact that his dreams wouldn’t start here anyway.

Usually his dreams started just as things got more heated - he kind of liked this change in scenery. But this wasn't a dream, and the reality was here; cocooned in a pile of tangled blankets (seriously, what did he do last night?) coated in some sticky substance – which he found was wine (Derek didn’t even drink wine, what the hell?) and engaging in a staring contest of the ages with Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles Stilinski, recent graduate from Berkley (“top of my class, suckers”). Stiles Stilinski, resident pack researcher and Spark in training. That Stiles Stilinski. Who was in his bed. Derek must still be groggy from the hangover considering he hadn’t yet properly had a mental breakdown at Stiles being in his bed. Or maybe it was because he was already having that breakdown. Either way, Derek kept his body frozen - because he was undeniably naked under the sheets.

“Oh my god” Derek would have said something snarky to this, at finally seeing Stiles speechless (a myth that has never been proven until today, and no one would believe him) - at least Stiles was doing better than Derek.

“Oh my god” Stiles repeats. Derek tentatively nodded his head in agreement. It would have been almost funny, the way they rolled onto their backs in unison, if they weren't engaged in a waiting game of who could get their mental faculties back first and break the ice.

“Dude we totally boned.” Stiles didn’t even look bothered by that statement, while Derek was startled into a coughing fit.

“You don’t know that.” Derek managed to cough out. Why would Stiles’ mind go straight to the least likely option? At least it worked on getting them to appear normal.

“We’re both thinking it.” Stiles retorted. Derek wanted to say that no, they weren't both thinking it, because Derek had common sense and supernatural senses. He'd know if it smelt of sex, semen and arousal. Derek really wanted to point out why that would be Stiles' first explanation. “Why else would we be naked in bed together?”

Well...Stiles had a point there. But Derek focused more on the fact that it didn’t even occur to him that Stiles might be naked under the sheets too – and now he couldn’t get the thought of a bare mole dotted arm inches away from his own out of his head.

Derek grunted - which suited as enough of an agreement to Stiles’ assessment to placate him. Mostly, Derek was trying to ignore the heat blazing up his side.

“Okay so how is this going to work?” Derek had absolutely no clue as to what Stiles was referring to, and he told him as much. “How is what going to work?” Stiles only offered him an exasperated look which didn’t belong anywhere on Stiles’ face.

“Well, I don’t see any clothes around and unless werewolves have superspeed like the Flash that I don’t know about, then we’re sitting ducks. Naked sitting ducks ” Stiles felt the need to add on. Derek couldn't exactly tell him that was stupid, since they were sitting ducks (yes, Stiles, naked sitting ducks.) Derek clutched the sheets tighter.

“We can close our eyes.” Stiles provided but Derek didn’t believe for a second that Stiles actually would. It wasn't like Derek hadn't spent the last week carefully monitoring Stiles around his house when he inevitably went looking for his Christmas presents. That had led to some embarrassing moments that Derek would rather not mention.

“Can’t you use your Spark to move the dresser closer.” Not his best suggestion, but how hard could it really be to drag the dresser within arm’s reach? With the power of belief or whatever Stiles said anchored his spark.

“Are you being serious? Like for real, ‘can’t you drag the dresser closer’. This isn’t Harry Potter Derek, I can’t just Accio clothes over here with a flick of my wand-” Or maybe not. “-besides we’re both adults. I’ve seen my fair share of dicks of all colours and sizes – locker rooms are not inclusive to the self-conscious believe it or not – and I know you were on the basketball team in school so you’ve been in the shared showers.” Derek was unabashedly gaping.

“No.” Stiles pouted. “Come on Derek, stop being childish” Stiles said as he sported a wolfish grin to put the actual werewolves to shame. Derek didn't trust that grin.

“No.” Derek didn't falter.

Stiles slumped with a dramatic sigh like Derek was the one being irrational.

“Fine I’ll go first.” Stiles stood with an over exaggerated stretch, showing off the winking dimples in his lower back and the lean muscles from years of running with the supernatural. Despite that display, Derek didn’t fail to notice the smirk that screamed of trouble Stiles threw over his shoulder before sauntering into the bathroom.

“Hey, can I borrow a toothbrush?” Borrow a what?

“What?” Stiles stuck his head out of the bathroom door - only his head, thankfully - the top one.

“Toothbrush?” Stiles sounded way too pleased with himself. “Under the sink.” Derek at least sounded more in control than he actually was.

Derek took Stiles’ absence as a ticking timer to find a pair of boxers – not briefs, definitely not briefs – that would hide his half hard cock. Derek resolutely ignored the way his mind said that Stiles won that round, and his claws that echoed it by almost making an appearance; but Derek did manage to have clothes on before Stiles appeared leaning against the bathroom door. (He counted that as a small victory)

Leaning was a strong word to use for what Stiles was doing – it was more like watching an accident waiting to happen with the way Stiles slowly tipped sideways and slipped away from the doorframe. Derek pretended to ignore the awkward stumble before Stiles caught himself. Although he probably shouldn't have, for the hell Stiles had given him so early in the morning.

“Boxers, really? I thought you were more of a briefs kind of guy” Stiles tried to pull off the cocky tone. Instead he ended up sounding like Jackson - Derek didn't mention that for his own safety.

“How’d you guess?” Derek mustered up Stiles level of sarcasm.

“Your ass deserves the best” Stiles shrugged like it was nothing new. “Also, your laundry basket is full of them.” His...laundry basket?

“What?” Somehow Derek failed to notice that Stiles was not standing in the nude but was sporting a pair of loose briefs that were undeniably Derek’s. Derek didn't know how to feel about Stiles scrummaging through his laundry (lie, he almost puffed out his chest in pleasure)

“Take. Them. Off.” Derek tried to intimidate Stiles but he still looked far too pleased with himself, like Derek was playing into his long, beautiful - stop it - hands.

“Well...because you asked.” That should have been Derek's cue, seeing as Stiles doesn't do things when asked. Agonizingly slow, Stiles leisurely pulled down the elastic band - until Derek could see the barest hint of dark curls.

“Stop!” Derek growled, Stiles paused. Derek ignored the sound of the elastic hitting Stiles' skin. “Why are you even wearing my briefs in the first place?” Derek tried to sound judgmental, but only came off as desperate.

“Well, I figured since we most likely had sex you wouldn’t mind me borrowing your underwear. Also, I needed something to wear unless you want to see the full package.” Stiles saucily winked.

“We didn't even have sex, Stiles” Derek was at the point where he had to stress Stiles’ name. If only he could manage to tell Stiles exactly why Derek knew they hadn't had sex.

“Well either we didn’t have sex or you did it wrong because I don’t feel any different.” Stiles sounded disappointed by that – at which part Derek didn’t know. Derek was only mildly offended, knowing it's intention was to hit his pride.

“Who says I’d be fucking you?” Derek finds himself asking anyway. Derek has to force himself not to do something stupid at the aroused scent Stiles give of on that.

“Really?” Derek raised his eyebrows, what Stiles calls judgmental face number 4. He didn't even want to know what differentiated numbers 1, 2 and 3.

Stiles had the audacity to look offended “Are you shaming me? Seriously, I am a young, sexually mature-“

“You’re twenty-four” Derek deadpanned. “And sexually mature is pushing it.”

“-and honestly, what were you expecting?” Stiles carried on like Derek hadn’t said anything – nothing new there. “It’s not like you aren’t hot like burning and have an ass like a hockey player, obviously that’s going to make me thing of R rated things.” Stiles used his hands to accentuate his point for him. What point? Derek couldn’t remember anymore. “If we actually did the dirty and I don’t remember it I am going to be so pissed.” Stiles sounded like that might actually be true. Derek couldn't figure out why.

“Did the dirty?” Derek felt the need to point this out, in hopes that Stiles would stop.

It worked, mostly – and Derek was left to blatantly stare at the flushing neck as it flexed and gulped. Damn him. If Erica were here she would laugh right in his face. And then take a picture - or lock them in the room. Or both. Derek can’t truthfully say he would mind.

“It’s not like there’s any evidence that we did have sex” Derek pointed out to break the second staring contest of the day. (Derek won: Stiles - 3, Derek - 2.)

“I agree” There was something wrong with that sentence coming out of Stiles' mouth. “I mean I feel pretty satisfied and achy after sex so that means we didn’t have sex or we did and it was unsatisfying” Derek took that as the challenge Stiles wanted it to be.

He barely resisted the urge to growl – especially when Stiles looked so satisfied with himself. Derek wanted to pummel the little shit - and then maybe kiss, lick and bite him.

“Well, there’s only one way to know for sure.” Derek wasn’t about to let Stiles win. Their relationship relied on banter as it was, what's wrong with adding something a bit more intimate to it.

“What?” Stiles looked nervous now, and his gulp was audible from across the room. Derek barely hid his grin. "Scent."

“If all you need to do is have a sniff of the room, why haven’t you yet?” Stiles sounded dubious.

“Scent is greater taken from a human than from objects” A complete lie that Derek had plucked from a completely bullshit website of werewolf 'facts'. But Stiles wouldn't know that considering his ability to tell if a website was fake almost immediately.

“Sniff yourself.” Stiles thought that was an acceptable solution. Derek didn't even know where to begin explaining how stupid that was so instead he parroted Stiles' words from earlier.

“Now who’s the one being childish?” Derek didn’t wait for Stiles' rant and just stuck his nose in the curvature Stiles’ neck. “Not fair, dude” Was the only thing Stiles could say - what wasn’t fair was how intoxicating Stiles’ smell had become. The arousal had heighted everything that was Stiles. Derek couldn't resist nipping at the skin.

“Dude did you bite me?” Stiles actually sounded offended about this – like he hadn’t made every joke about werewolves and biting in bed. It was just a nip anyway.

“Stop calling me dude.” Derek didn’t know why he tried - except to test if he could still say words. It wasn’t like it worked the other three hundred times. Derek braved a taste. Derek was more than a little smug that Stiles was too worked up to manage an 'ew' at Derek licking him.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it’s working. Oh my god” Stiles didn't even try to hide his arousal, practically melting against Derek's chest. Derek continued to be smug about that for all of two seconds before Stiles’ hips shifted forward. Derek ignored the feel of Stiles' erection against his - in favour of panicking because Stiles had definitely felt his.

“Dude do you have a boner?” Stiles had an excited tilt to his voice that made Derek want to smother himself in Stiles' neck. Instead he took the still and silent approach.

“Can I help you with that? I really want to help you with that.” Stiles sounded way past want. Jesus Christ. Derek lifted his head to be on the receiving end of Stiles’ innocent face. Stiles wasn't getting out of this one now that he had felt exactly how Derek was feeling.

“Don’t say that and feign innocence.” Derek crossed his arms - which only made Stiles drool.

“Maybe we could ignore that? For the sake of dignity please.” Stiles actually tried that - like Derek was going to let this go at the matter of dignity. Derek snorted. What dignity?

“No. Why did you offer to do...that?" Derek tried to articulate his point like Stiles - with full exaggeration of his arms. Derek could admit he and Stiles had grown closer from bashing each other's heads into steering wheels but that was one thing - offering to suck his dick was another.

“Come on Derek, don’t pretend you don’t know about my giant heart boner for you. Please can we just forget this happened.” Stiles waved it off like it was old news. Derek should maybe start paying more attention to the news, if he misses stuff like this. He mouthed the words heart boner – part in amazement at Stiles’ refined vocabulary and well...He didn’t want to acknowledge the other part.

“Does heart boner-” Jesus Christ “-mean what I think it means?” Derek really hoped it did, it probably showed in his voice too - because Derek was just that far gone at the chance he could have this.

“Well, if you think heart boner means that I’m literally in love with you and want to do all the romantic shit with you but also want you writhing beneath me, then yes, it is what you think it means. But the writhing beneath me part is mostly from my actual boner. You can shut me up now...any time.” Derek never wanted to. He wanted the rambles and random rants about inconsequential shit that Derek will never think of again, even at 3 in the morning after fighting off a chimera.

“I do as well. Have a heart boner. For you.” Derek was really about to let that be their love confession story - and he told Stiles as much.

“I can’t believe that’s going to be our love confession story.” It was ridiculous and stupid, but it suited them.

“As long as we don’t tell Erica, we’ll be fine. Or Lydia, otherwise she’ll hold the fact that her parties had a large part in us getting together for the rest of our lives.” Derek didn't even want to think of the pack right now - they were going to be absolutely unbearable for three weeks at a minimum - what he really wanted to do was smother Stiles’ infectious grin. With his face.

“We are getting together right?” Derek shut Stiles up with a kiss instead - he could do that now, and with a lot of other things.

“Now, what did you say about having me writhing beneath you?” Derek didn't care if this was considered going to fast, not when the room was clouding his head with the smell of their arousal.

“Oh god, how can you switch from cute to sexy in under a second. You’re killing me.” Stiles flailed and stumbled out of Derek’s brief with his usual ungracefulness - he teetered at the edge of the bed on one foot, yanking the briefs down his calves where they had somehow gotten tangled. Derek found it endearing – and he didn't want to know what that said about his type.

Derek tried to resist, truly – but in the end he failed. He nudged Stiles’ shoulder where he was still yanking the briefs enough that they probably wouldn't even fit Derek anymore, and watched the balance tip. Stiles yelped as he bounced face first on the bed with his ass in the air. That was an added bonus, and was Derek's cue to take off his own boxers.

“Rude” Stiles huffed, muffled by the pillow – but he still rolled over and spread his arms. “Come here so we can do the dirty.”

Derek huffed as he fell into the warmth. He can’t believe he has a heart boner for this idiot.

#mytumbler335 #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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korra-the-red-lion · 3 years

Text

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 5: Killer Moves, Dude.

(Lyn)

I sighed deeply through my nose as I handed in my test. I legit have no idea how I did on it. Religion in Pop Culture was a fun class, but some of the material was challenging. I mumbled my thanks to the prof and hefted my bag over my shoulder as I headed out.

It’s been nearly 3 weeks since the shower incident. No other freaky shit had happened, so I guess it was just a hideously stupid prank. Our guess was it was one of the other teams just playing a prank on us, or the women’s soccer team. We were the only ones who would have been in the locker room at that time.

Still, the whispers and the strange looks were starting to get on my nerves. I normally would argue that I was an easy-going kind of person, but this kind of attention had made my mood sour as of late.

“Why the scowl, Lyn-Lyn?”

I glanced over when Loryn bumped hips, finding a little smile on her face.

“Just finished writing a test and heard yet another ‘bet they’re gonna lose the banner again’ whispers,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I swear, these people are making me want to commit bloody murder.”

“Aw, don’t let them get to you,” said Loryn, wrapping her arms around mine, “they ain’t worth it.”

��I know, I know. It’s just hard, you know?”

Loryn nodded. “Yup, totes. But seriously, Lyn, I have a good feeling about this year. I feel like barring any extreme accidents, we’re gonna kick Turner’s ass this year and win that banner.”

I finally cracked a real smile. “Loryn, you know you’re awesome, right?”

“I mean, obviously. That’s why everyone loves me,” she said with a cheeky grin.

I snorted, the tension finally leaving my body. I said goodbye to Loryn, who was heading to her next class as I headed to the pool to teach swim lessons.

Loryn was one of those people who just knew how to get under my skin, in a good way. We were frosh together, and ended up in the same res. When we both showed up for the rookie week, we had a good laugh about the coincidence and because fast friends. Loryn came from a family of four girls, which according to her meant she was ‘a-mazing at dealing with conflict’ and it was hard to bring her mood down. She was planning on going to school after this to become a middle school teacher, which I thought was awesome. I was lucky to have a good friend in her, because my first year here was… well, let’s just say I was going through some stuff.

I pulled off my shirt as I walked into the AC, waving to Hassan, who was working at the desk today. He was a really sweet guy on the Badminton team, and admittedly I used to have a huge crush on, so every now and then I liked to tease him when I went by.

He grinned as he waved back, and I snickered as I bounded down the stairs to head into the locker room. I could hear all the kids chatting and messing around in there as I punched in the password to the swim team’s locker room. Those sounds always brightened my mood, and by the time I was done changing, my mood was pretty much back to the usual Lyn Hart standard.

I stepped onto the pool, laughing as a couple of the kids immediately ran to my side. Hunter, Joy, Kevin and Morgan loved me and always raced over to tell me about their days or whatever else crossed their minds. I sat down on the pool edge as they all spoke over each other to be heard, and eventually I had to settle them down so I could start the lesson.

I hopped into the pool and demonstrated the skills they needed to learn for this week’s lesson. I always loved getting in with them and showing them how to do it right. Too often do I see the other instructors standing on the pool deck, not really engaging in teaching. I get it, it’s not for everyone, but sometimes it’s not about you, it’s about the kids. Some of these kids…swim practice is their escape, they need this. If you aren’t there to be supportive, then why are you here in the first place?

The lesson went by so fast, and it was time for our practice. I said goodbye to the little guys and quickly threw on my cap and goggles. Time to get this underway.

XXX

“Lyn?”

I looked up from my laptop bleary eyed. Kerry pulled out a chair and sat down next to me. “Yeah? Wassup?”

She sighed as she leaned back, pulling her leg up on the seat. “I know this is going to sound so utterly stupid, but I’m nervous about the meet this weekend. I just haven’t been in a great head space recently, and with all the drama surrounding us and Gunner, I guess I’m just feeling overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” I said, reaching over and taking her hand in mine, “that is not stupid at all. Don’t ever think how you feel is stupid, got it?”

Kerry gave a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Lyn.”

I smiled in return. “Always. Now, did you tell Emma about how you felt? Or Andrew?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I will, yeah. Just…I wanted to talk to someone else about it first. It’s one of those things where you know that once you talk to someone is like ‘oh, why’d you take so long to say something?’ but still take your time.”

“I totally get that. I tend to keep things all bottled up until it just explodes out, you know? Loryn is the only one who knows how to get it out of me. Remember at the Halloween Bash last year when I finally lost my shit and decked Frankie across the chin?” I shook my head in shame.

Kerry chuckled. “I have to admit though, Frankie deserved it. He was being such a dick.”

I smirked, thinking back to that night. Frankie probably did deserve it but resorting to physical violence was something I should avoid in the future.

All of a sudden, Matt popped out of nowhere. It was like he was using his twin sense to find Kerry. Honestly, it was cute. Kerry seemed to be the more sensitive of the two on the surface, but in reality, it was Matt. He was constantly checking in on Kerry and would seriously drop anything to make sure she was okay. Kerry and Gunner were in an on again off again relationship for the past 6 months, and clearly his drug incident was bothering her a lot more than she was letting on. Matt walked over and plopped down on the table.

“Did I miss anything important?”

“I was admitting to my undying love to your sister, and we’re running away together after the swim meet tomorrow to move to Calgary,” I said seriously. Kerry nodded solemnly beside me.

Matt rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. “How are y’all feeling about it, anyhow?”

I shrugged. “I mean, the first meet of the season. Feeling a little nervous, but otherwise same as always.”

“Ah, the Stonewall Lyn is coming back out to play, huh?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” I said with a whine, slumping onto the table. “It’s not like I’m impenetrable.”

“No, that much is obvious,” said Kerry with a smirk. Matt burst into laughter as my ears got hot. I reached over and squeezed Kerry’s arm, causing her to jokingly squeal in pain.

Someone yelled at us to shut up, and we all quieted down guiltily. Sometimes I forget that you still had to be quiet in the library. Matt slipped off the table and pulled out his own laptop, and the three of us decided to do our homework together.

XXX

My head burst through the water as I took a breath. I could barely hear them all shouting at me to go faster, that I was only close behind Sophie LeBlanc from Turner University. We both hit the wall and I pushed off, kicking hard. I could see in the corner of my eye that we were neck and neck for the final 25 meters. Sophie was faster than me, but I had more endurance. The 200 Fly was where I shined. My hands smacked against the wall and I immediately looked up to check the clock. A huge grin broke out on my face when I saw the number 1 next to my name. Sophie smiled at me and I reached over the lane rope to give her a hug.

“Good swim,” I huffed out.

“You too,” she breathed heavily.

I pulled myself out and shakily walked over to where the team was waiting, clapping me on the back. Maddie handed me my towel and I listened to Coach Jacob point out some things I did well and things I could work on, nodded when I needed to. He clapped me on the shoulder and sent me to the warm down pool.

I hopped in and swam a couple of laps lazily, to get that lactic acid moving out of my system. I stopped at the wall and watched Kerry swim her 50 Breast, cheering as she hit the wall for a turn. Despite her initial nerves, she was on fire this meet.

I swam back to the other end of the warm down pool and jumped out. I quickly threw on my swim parka and sweatpants, not wanting to get cold. The relay was the last event, and I needed to be ready to swim the Fly sprint. I walked over to where Emma, Maddie, and Tammy were, getting each other pumped up.

Emma huddled us together and closed her eyes. “Alright, you psycho bitches, we’re going to kill this relay. We’re not going to let Turner or Francois step all over us this year. You girls are seriously some of the best people I’ve ever had the joy of swimming with. Wolves on 3. 1, 2, 3!”

We all shouted “WOLVES” and hurried over to the starting block. Maddie chucked all her stuff into the box behind the timer’s chairs and waited for the whistle blow before hopping into the water. A jolt of nervous energy shot through my system as the buzzer went off, and so did the swimmers. I tossed all my stuff off too and slapped my arms and legs as part of my good luck ritual. I spared a glance over at Sophie, who gave me a cheeky smile before getting settled herself.

Maddie was fast approaching the wall, and Tammy was raring to go. She dove in the second Maddie’s fingertip brushed the wall, her form as beautiful as always. I shouted with the others as loudly as I could, before getting onto the block myself. Tammy was slicing through the water, looking as awesome as she did. I know she was exhausted from her 50 Breast swim from earlier, but it didn’t show at all as she kept pace with the others. Tammy’s hands slammed into the wall and I dove in, kicking as hard as I possibly could and fell into a mad rhythm, trying to keep pace with Sophie and Megan from Francois University. My lungs were screaming for air by the time I hit the wall for my turn, and I took a quick breath. My body was already in agony from my earlier swims, but I had to push through that for them. I hit the wall hard and Emma dove in. Maddie helped me out as I struggled to catch my breath. Emma was already halfway down the pool when I got out, trying my best to cheer for her despite my lack of oxygen. Kim Hawks from Turner was one of the best freestyle sprinters in the province, and while Emma was good, she wasn’t as good as Kim. I just hoped that we did enough to stay in the race.

Emma slammed her hand against the wall, and we all looked at the timer on the wall, holding our breaths. Turner popped up in the number 1 spot, unfortunately. But Mount Seamus showed up in the number 2 spot right after and we cheered. Maybe it wasn’t first, but yeah, beating Francois felt pretty damn good. We helped Emma out of the pool and held each other for a minute. I could feel the pride oozing off of us, and that was amazing. The points all mattered in the end, but right now, we did good.

XXX

Mondays after a swim meet were always the hardest. You were exhausted and spent the whole Sunday evening catching up on any work you were behind on. The only thing nice about them was morning practice was cancelled.

I yawned my whole way through my Asia World History course, even though it was one of my favourite classes. It was just hard when you were as tired as I was. I was just lucky since I did the readings ahead of time, because I know my notes were total garbage today.

Professor Gorgens told me I did an awesome job this weekend as I left class, and I gave him a warm smile. The guy was a bit of an egotistical jerk sometimes, but he did care about his students and made an effort to keep up with how the athletes were doing.

The food hall was a little quieter today, as students were frantically studied for their first batch of tests or they were just getting sick of the food already, which does happen. I yawned as I grabbed a couple of the premade sandwiches and some of the less questionable fruits. I didn’t really feel like eating inside right now, so I lumbered outside.

I sat down under the big tree, taking small bites out of my sandwich as I read through my textbook for my next class. It was just about October, and while it was starting to cool down, it was still nice enough out to enjoy the weather.

It felt like I was starting to doze off when I heard someone say my name. I looked up groggily and saw Ally waving to me.

“Oh, hey, Ally,” I said. “How have you been?”

Her eyes flickered to the tree uneasily before looking back at me. “Oh, good! I just finished writing my first midterm and have another one tomorrow. So, just been a little busy. How about you?”

I shrugged. “Good. Busy with swimming and school, so the usual.”

I’m not sure what was going on with Ally, but she kept looking up at the branches with some obvious discomfort. I looked up as well, wondering if there was an animal or something, but I didn’t see anything out of the norm. I looked back to her, and when we made eye contact, she gave me a tight smile.

“Is there…is there something wrong?” I asked hesitantly.

Her smile tightened even more, and she shook her head. “Nope, nothing is wrong. Why would you think there’s something wrong?”

Uh, okay. That was weird. I frowned and said, “Well, because you’re all wound up about something.”

“Am I?”

“You seem to be.”

She made a popping sound with her mouth. “I see. Well…this is going to sound so strange, so don’t judge me please, but I don’t like the vibes from the tree.”

I stared at her blankly before nodding. “Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”

“It does?” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, totally.” I stood up, brushing my butt off and walking away from the tree. “According to the history of the school, this tree was planted on an old mass grave. It freaks a lot of people out because of that, but I always found it a nice spot to sit.”

Ally’s face paled as she took in the tree entirely. I don’t think I totally understood what was bothering her, but I gently pushed her away until the colour returned to her face. Whatever it was about the tree bothered her, and I was going to respect that.

“Does that bother you?” I asked as I continued to lead her away.

Ally gave a slow nod. “I…it just makes me uncomfortable, that’s all. I didn’t realize that there were so many buried skeletons at this school.” She tried to look over at it one last time, but I placed my hand on her face and directed her attention to me instead.

When our eyes connected, Ally made a strange face as her cheeks turned red. I know sometimes my stare can be pretty intense, according to the several people on the team who told me, so I dropped my hand and looked away slightly.

“Sorry, I just didn’t think you should be looking at the tree if it was freaking you out that much, you know?” I said with a grin.

“Oh, uh, yes!” Ally composed herself and nodded firmly. “Thank you for that. Sometimes I just get into my own head and it’s hard to get out of there.”

“Anxiety can be a bitch,” I said with sympathy.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” she said with a small chuckle.

I walked with Ally to her next class, just wanting to make sure everything was all good before I headed to mine. Some nice-looking guy with a small scar on his eyebrow was waiting for her when we got there, and I waved goodbye to her as I walked down the steps. Ally seemed more adjusted to the student life than last time I spoke to her, which was good. I was glad that she was making friends and finding herself a nice routine to fall into.

I was just about to dash to my class when I realized I left all my things under the tree when I made Ally leave. I ran over and gathered all my things quickly, sparing one last glace at the branches before leaving.

Maybe it was the trick of my eye, but it did kind of look like there was a shadow. I blinked and looked again, only to see the clear sky through the branches. Huh.

XXX

Practice was an easy affair today. Coach Jacob liked to give us one easy day after a meet, something we all appreciated. Plus, he started the day off with great news.

“Gunner is allowed to compete again!” he announced before any of us got into the water.

Several people cheered and Kerry gave him a small peck on the cheek. Gunner looked embarrassed but determined. He apologized to all of us for his behaviour this summer and that he was going to make it up to us.

Jackie reached over and patted his shoulder. “Hey, it happens to the best of us, Gunner. My sister fell in with the wrong crowd and ended up needing rehab. The important thing is that you got clean.”

Gunner brushed away tears and gave her a hug, which caused a huge group hug. I was happy for him, really. Sure, he made a mistake. But you’re supposed to be allowed to learn from those mistakes and grow from them. He was lucky to have such a good support system, because not everyone did. Coach Jacob rubbed his head and told everyone to get into the water and to stop being so sappy. A few of us laughed as we broke up the hug and did as we were told.

It was about halfway through practice when Jackie hopped out of the pool to run to the bathroom. Normally Coach Jacob hated when we did that, but I think he was in a good mood today, so he let it slide. He read through the next set and we got to work.

It wasn’t until we were finished with the set that I noticed Jackie hadn’t returned. That was really strange. I think other people noticed too, because I saw some heads swiveling as they looked for her. Jackie’s lane partner Tammy said under her breath, “What’s taking her so long? Did her tampon get stuck or something?”

I said I’d go see what was going on and pushed myself out of the pool. I padded lightly into the locker room and called out her name, only to get no response. I felt my heart speed up a little, as I felt a pit of concern growing in my stomach.

I walked into where the bathrooms were and knocked on all the doors. Still nothing. Maybe she just had to race home for something? I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling, however. That wasn’t like Jackie at all. She always made sure to let people know where she was going, even if it was a sudden situation change.

My heart was pounding loudly in my ears now as I called out again and still got nothing in return. I shuddered as I walked towards the locker room, feeling a sudden chill. I shakily punched in the combination and opened the door to where our lockers were located.

I couldn’t help but shriek when I saw Jackie lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. She groaned as I grabbed a towel and shoved it against her stomach, where it looked like someone had cut her with something. She opened her eyes and tried to say something, but I shushed her.

“Jackie, sweetie, don’t say anything right now,” I said, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “You need to lie very still, okay?”

She gave the teeniest of nods as her eyes lost focus again. I heard someone running into the change room, most likely responding to the sound of my scream.

I move the door with my foot so the worst of the scene is hidden from view. “Don’t come in!” I shouted.

“Lyn, what’s going on?” That was Loryn.

“Jackie’s been hurt, she needs medical attention ASAP.”

I heard Loryn swear loudly. “Lyn, my phone is in there!”

“Use the phone on the deck or upstairs!” My voice cracked with fear as the blood seeped through the towel. I grabbed another one and applied pressure on the wound, praying that it would slow down or stop. Jackie was looking very pale, and her breathing was shallow.

I forced myself to look away for a second, knowing I was getting tunnel vision. The lockers were all open and the light overhead was out. There were huge gouges in the wall that looked like they were trying to spell something, but I was not in the right head space to even try and read it right now.

The door opened and Coach Jacob stood in the doorway, taking the scene in. He went very pale and had to lean against the wall to keep himself upright.

“I-is she…?”

I shook my head. “Breathing, alive for now. She needs to get to the hospital, now.”

He nodded shakily. “They’re on the way. Loryn…she called.”

Thank God for Loryn. She was good a keeping calm under pressure. I looked down at Jackie and breathed a little easier when I saw that this towel hadn’t soaked through. I have no idea who did this to her, but they couldn’t have gotten too far. I felt like crying so bad right now, but the tears just wouldn’t come out. It was like my body knew what it needed to do right now, and crying was not it.

I refused to leave Jackie’s side until the paramedic gently removed me from the scene to ask some questions. I answered them the best I could, but I honestly had no idea what happened. I thought it was a stab mark at first, but as I thought about it a little bit more, I couldn’t get the visual of claw marks out of my head.

XXX

I sat on the hospital bed, my guts tied up into a nervous knot. I had to be brought in because I went into shock after I- well, after it. I checked my phone and paused when I saw that I missed a call from home. That was something unusual. Honestly? I didn’t feel like dealing with that right now, so I just swiped the notification off. If they couldn’t be bothered to leave a voice mail, then I can’t be bothered to call them back.

There was a knock at the door. I looked over as Loryn, Kerry, and Matt poked their heads in. I smiled weakly as they shuffled into the room. I took Loryn’s hand into my own as she sat down on my bed. Matt pulled over another chair and him and Kerry sat down next to the bed.

“Is…Jackie…?” I croaked, unable to get the words out.

Loryn nodded slightly. “Jackie is okay. She needed some serious stiches and won’t be able to compete for the rest of the season. Jacob and Robin are with her while they wait for her parents to arrive.”

I sighed in minor relief. “At least she’s okay. Um…did they find anyone?”

“They claim that they found a guy wielding a knife,” said Matt. “But Lyn, I’m not too sure about that. Why would some random guy attack a student in the locker room?”

That was my thought too. Also, I swear it was claw marks. They were straight across, not stabbed in. The thought of Jackie lying on the floor flashed in my mind and I had to squeeze my eyes shut as I waited out the wave of nausea. Loryn squeezed my hand as I struggled to control myself.

“Did they give you anything?” she asked quietly.

I shook my head slowly. “No, I refused.”

“Why’d you refuse?”

“I didn’t want to be drugged up if something happened to Jackie…”

There was a tense silence in the room. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else, so I directed my attention to the window. The ticking of the clock sounded incredibly loud as time passed by. The IV pump I was connected to chugged along as it pumped some fluids into my body. I could hear Kerry sniffling in her chair, unable to say the words she needed to hear. It was like my brain was shutting down, unable to process what had happened.

Poor Jackie didn’t deserve this. Not that anyone did, but Jackie was such a sweet person. She would give you the shirt off her back if you asked and would then give you even more. This was a random attack, but why? The why was bouncing around, giving me a headache.

I felt Loryn reach over and brush her thumb against my cheek. I looked at her confused as to why she did that, then I realized I was actually crying. I don’t cry often; it just wasn’t something I did. I began to tremble and completely lost it when the three of them gave me a tight hug.

I cried and cried until I couldn’t anymore.

#unnatural affairs #ua #lyn hart #ally holland #paranormal #gore mention #violence happens off screen #sports #lots of sports #mystery #ghosts #this chapter gets the plot moving #romance #Lyn is a little oblivious lol

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unbealevable · 3 years

Text

GOBLINS ➝ BECHLOE.

TAGGING ➝ Chloe Beale, Beca Mitchell.

LOCATION ➝ Beca, Chloe and Amy’s apartment.

TIME FRAME ➝ 2/10, afternoon.

WARNINGS ➝ None.

NOTES ➝ Beca comes home to find Chloe and five new babies.

CHLOE BEALE

Although they’d smiled politely and thanked the woman who had come into the clinic mid-morning with a box of newborn, abandoned kittens, everybody had actually been kind of mad about it. For all she knew, their mom had simply gone to find food, and would return to find her kittens gone, but they were here now, and there was nothing they could do to reverse her actions—if the cat had returned, she would be long gone by now, and her babies wouldn’t smell like her anymore. This, of course, meant that they now had five helpless kittens to provide twenty-four hour care for, and without considering the shoebox she lived in, Chloe had jumped at the chance to volunteer.

After checking them all over, they all seemed to be in generally good health, and were each given tiny paper collars in different identifying colors��red, blue, green, yellow and purple—before being bundled into a new, bigger box with fresh blankets, and Chloe had been dismissed early to get them home and settled. Considering they couldn’t yet open their eyes properly, it wasn’t like they needed toys or food bowls or anything; the clinic provided her with plenty of kitten milk and syringes to feed them, then the rest was pretty much up to Chloe.

Navigating the city with a box of kittens proved to be a task, as did opening doors, but once they were safely out of the cold and closed away in the apartment, Chloe cleared a space by her side of the pull-out bed to settle their box, then set a timer for every two hours on her phone for scheduled feeds.

By late afternoon, changed out of her scrubs and into a standard winter comfort outfit of leggings and a sweater, Chloe sat cross-legged on the bed, pouting at the soft whines to ring from the box beside her as she scrolled through kitten care tips on her laptop. “I know, you’ll get more milk soon,” she cooed toward the box, leaning over to admire the tiny black and white blobs sprawled out in their makeshift bed.

BECA MITCHELL

Another day, another frustrating shift at the office. While Beca wasn't a fan of physical activity in general, she was low-key grateful for her studio commute as the musical decompression time on the subway plus the several block power walk to and from her subway stops helped blow off some steam. So she wasn't in the worst mood by the time she got home, all things considered.

Especially because her apartment had heat. And food. And…

"Chloe?" Beca cast a confused wave at her roommate as she set her laptop bag down gently by the foot of the bed. Then she carefully removed her headphones from around her neck and shrugged off her blazer. "What's up, you okay? Are you sick or--"

The tiniest mewl interrupted Beca and her brow furrowed as she followed the sound toward the other side of the bed. "Uh, what…" Taking a few steps over, her hand flew to her mouth and barely muffled her gasp at the sight of the tiny creatures in the box. "Dude, oh my god!"

CHLOE BEALE

In hindsight, maybe Chloe should’ve texted her roommates to at least give them a heads up about the kittens, but she’d been kind of preoccupied all day, so the thought had just slipped her mind. It wasn’t until she heard the door opening that it registered to her, and Chloe bit back a grimace as she took in Beca’s reaction. She couldn’t tell if it was a good one or not.

“Before you say anything,” she began quickly, pushing her laptop aside to instead swing her legs over the side of the bed, body now facing the box. “They were abandoned. Some lady brought them to us this morning, and they don’t have their mom, so now someone has to take care of them until they’re big enough to take care of themselves.” Chloe pulled her lips inward. “Don’t make too much noise, okay? They’re really tiny, you might scare them.”

BECA MITCHELL

Beca may have perfected her hard-ass exterior over the years, but while she held firmly to her belief that most people suck… she'd always had a soft spot for animals. Some of them even melted that badass persona right into mush. She couldn't help it.

"Oh my god, okay." Beca kept her voice low and toed off her boots before lowering herself to sit on Chloe's side of the bed beside her. "Poor babies! They're so freakin' small, holy shit. I've never seen a cat that small." And there were five of them!

All of this information processed a little too slowly as Beca tried shaking off the shock and she cut Chloe a glance, blinking. "Wait. Does that mean we're taking care of them until they're big enough?"

CHLOE BEALE

Pleased that Beca at least didn’t seem angry, Chloe’s expression softened, and she glanced between the box of kittens and her best friend seated now beside her. “I know, they’re newborn,” Chloe explained, keeping her volume low so as not to wake the ones that were still sleeping. Technically, they all should be sleeping between feeds, but already some of them were a little more lively than the others. “We don’t know when exactly they were born, but it can’t be more than a couple days. You see how they can’t really open their eyes yet?”

Peering into the box, Chloe pulled in her lips again. “Umm, yes,” she nodded. “I mean, I’m taking care of them. It would be awes if you could help, but you don’t have to. They do need to be fed a lot, though… Every two to three hours, in fact.” Chloe paused, nose wrinkling as she shot Beca an apologetic look. “And that’s every two to three hours, including during the night.”

BECA MITCHELL

Beca nodded without hesitating. “Shut up, nerdface. I’m not gonna let you do this shit by yourself--it sounds like a lot of work. And I’m here already. I’d be a dick if I let you do this all by yourself.” Not that Chloe needed to ask. Seriously, Beca never thought twice about helping Chloe, that’s how it had always been. She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a bit, seemingly losing her restraint. (At least she didn’t let out the squeal. She had a cool image to maintain.) “So can I hold one??”

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe knew Beca was a softie for animals—who wasn’t?—but she still felt a certain sense of relief in response to her reaction. It was much better than she’d expected, considering they were going to have a lot of sleepless nights ahead of them. But Beca was her best friend, and Chloe knew that she’d always have her back, so it really shouldn’t have surprised her.

Her lips relaxed into a warm smile. “You can, but you have to be extra careful, okay? In fact…” she paused, picking up her phone to check the time. “They’re due another feed really soon, maybe you could feed one or two of them?” Pushing herself up from the bed, Chloe bounced toward the small kitchen, then directly to the fridge to grab the kitten milk. “There are a couple syringes by the box, grab those and we can fill them. Feeding them is so cute, Bec. They make the sweetest little suckling noises.”

BECA MITCHELL

“Oh, um--sure!” Her reply tinged with a sudden injection of anxiety. “They’re so freakin’ small,” she noted as she peered into the box once again. “What if I accidentally crush it or something?” Beca wrinkled her nose, knowing the concern was likely a dumb one--she had pretty small hands, after all. While Chloe set up the milk, Beca hurried to change into her pajama pants and a soft t-shirt, wanting to get comfy before handling the baby kittens.

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe chuckled quietly as she got to work on carefully heating a saucepan of water. “You won’t. They’re also less fragile than they look… But I mean, don’t, like, squeeze them or anything,” she frowned, focus on preparing everything she needed. While Beca changed, Chloe set a fresh container of milk into the pan, keeping the heat low, before shuffling back toward the bed to plop back down into her previous position.

Grabbing the small notebook she’d been recording their feeds (and other habits) in throughout the afternoon so far, Chloe pulled it into her lap, opening it up to scan over her earlier notes. “I’m guessing you’ve never fed a kitten before?” she questioned, lifting her gaze toward Beca. A shot of excitement ran through her at the idea of getting to teach her something, even if it was just how to syringe feed, so Chloe wasn’t going to waste any time, and leaned down to carefully scoop up the first meowing kitten.

“This one’s name is Green for now,” she said in a soft voice, pulling her hand close to her chest and glancing down toward the black and white blob with a small, contented smile on her lips. “They’re all named after the colors on their collars,” Chloe hummed, reaching out with her finger to delicately stroke over the kitten’s tiny head. “Do you want to hold him? His milk isn’t ready yet, but I bet he still loves cuddles.”

BECA MITCHELL

Beca had to bite back her smile as she watched Chloe go into vet mode, writing her notes and analyzing the situation. “Nope. Can’t say I have, Dr. B. Good thing I’ve got you to teach me.” Pride shined in Beca’s eyes as she watched her best friend handle the kitten with such gentle care. Chloe would be an incredible vet, and it was super awesome she found something she had so much passion for and could make a career out of it.

“Green,” Beca repeated, a slight smirk twisting on her lips. “Like the Green Goblin. Dope.” Her spine snapped straighter when Chloe asked if she wanted to hold him, and she couldn’t resist shooting Chloe a sheepish smile as she made grabby hands toward the baby. “I’ll be real careful. Promise.” She carefully helped transfer the kitten into her hands, gasping as she brought him against her chest. (Mindful of her sore nippes, as always lately. Thanks, Stacie.)

“Hey there, little dude!” Beca whispered, carefully stroking the soft fur on his back before dropping a kiss to his head. “I’m Auntie Beca.” Well, so much for not getting attached.

CHLOE BEALE

It was perhaps kind of pathetic, the way Chloe’s entire body would tingle with pride whenever Beca called her that particular name. To be more relatable to their clients, everybody just used each other’s first names at the clinic, so she only really got the doctor title at home, but it always made her feel incredibly warm.

“Yes, exactly like the Green Goblin,” Chloe grinned, the reference going entirely over her head. “There’s also a Red Goblin, a Yellow Goblin, a Blue Goblin and a Purple Goblin.” Her gaze was down on the kitten, but glancing over to see Beca so eager and excited made Chloe’s heart flutter in the strangest way. She couldn’t resist cracking a bright smile in response. “I trust you, Bec.”

Cautiously handing him over, Chloe watched the way Beca interacted with the kitten, and did all she could to bite back her grin. “Auntie Beca,” she giggled quietly, reaching out to run the pad of her finger over Green’s head again. “He’s so cute, right? He’s definitely one of the more lively ones already. He has one brother, Blue,” she explained as she rose from the bed to go check on the milk. “Then the rest are girls. Do any of the others look like they’re awake?”

BECA MITCHELL

"He's so freaking small," Beca marveled, continuing to card her fingers in what she hoped was a soothing rhythm through his fur. While Chloe tended to the milk, Beca peered back into the tiny kitten box. "Um… it's hard to tell since their eyes are all still closed but it looks like purple's squirming around a little." Beca refocused her attention on the green collared baby in her hands, hitching her voice up an octave in an uncharacteristically gooey sort of way. "You hungry, buddy? Dr. B's fixing you up some grub right now."

CHLOE BEALE

Careful not to let the milk get too warm, Chloe pulled the container from the pan, testing a small drop on the back of her hand like regular baby milk. “Oh, really? That’s good, Purple has been the least lively so far,” she commented, turning off the heat and bringing the milk back over to the bed with her. Although she really wanted to say something about Beca’s adorable baby voice, she held it back, and instead just grinned as she reached for two of the syringes.

“You can feed Green while I feed Purple?” she suggested, carefully measuring out the correct amount of milk into the first one, then set it down on the bed beside Beca. She did the same with the second, before reaching into the box to scoop up Purple, the obvious runt of the litter. “Hi, baby,” she cooed, bringing the smallest kitten up to her face to take a look. “I don’t think your brothers and sisters let you get much milk from your mama, huh?” Chloe pouted, setting the kitten down in her lap on her back legs with her hand securely holding her upright.

“Okay, so this is how you feed them,” Chloe began, grabbing the closest filled syringe and guiding it toward the kitten’s mouth. “Nice and gentle,” she just above whispered, finger pushing delicately on the plunger. “You just do one little drop at a time, otherwise they might not be able to swallow it properly.” Chloe watched the kitten for a moment, then glanced toward Beca. “You try.”

BECA MITCHELL

“Just you wait,” Beca said, eyeing the tiniest of the litter. The ‘runt’ or whatever. “Purple’s gonna be the toughest cat there’s ever been. Small and scrappy as fuck. Nobody’s gonna dare mess with her.” Was Beca projecting? Nope. Not even a little bit.

She paid close attention to Chloe’s kitten feeding process, only getting somewhat distracted by how adorable she--it was, her whole… vet thing. She’d always been a good teacher (especially when it came to choreography), but helping Beca learn how to care for newborn kittens was pretty damn cute.

“Here we go, Goblin. Milk time.” Gentle as ever, she repositioned the kitten and held up the syringe, pressing out one drop for him. She brightened when the tiniest pink tongue poked out to lap it right up. Beca giggled. “Delicious, huh? Here ya go, have another drop.” Beca remained hyper focused on the kitten, feeding him one drop at a time. She figured Chloe would stop her when he had enough.

CHLOE BEALE

“Small and scrappy,” Chloe echoed, brows rising playfully. Beca was totally describing herself. “She’s gonna have to be scrappy when they start sharing a milk bowl, I think Red is going to be super greedy. She’s already the biggest, and she really, really loves her milk,” Chloe chuckled quietly, glancing toward the open page in her notebook.

Although focused on feeding Purple, she couldn’t help but let her gaze drift toward Beca, at first watching to make sure she knew what she was doing, but then lingering, because there was something almost irresistibly adorable about Beca Mitchell syringe feeding a tiny kitten.

Not that Chloe would ever think of her best friend as irresistible in any other instance, of course.

“This is cute now,” she hummed, gaze moving toward Purple again. “But how do you think you’ll feel about it when we have to wake up every two hours during the night?” Chloe paused then, sending Beca an apologetic look. “I really can figure something else out. Maybe Amy will switch beds with me until they’re a little bigger and don’t have to have regular night feeds?”

BECA MITCHELL

“Well Purple’s gonna have to show Red who’s boss. I believe in her.” Beca cast Chloe a quick smirk before refocusing her attention on her little Green Goblin, who was basically the most adorable creature Beca had ever seen.

“I’ll make it work,” Beca said with a shrug. Though honestly, if literally anyone else in the world asked Beca to deal with waking up every two hours for at least a few weeks, she’d laugh in their face. Chloe… played by a different set of rules. (She always had.) “I mean, how many chances will I get to raise baby kittens like this? It’s pretty awesome.” She pulled a grimace at the suggestion, shaking her head. “Oh god, please no. Waking up every two hours is cake compared to sharing a bed with Amy. She’ll dutch oven me to death.”

CHLOE BEALE

The apologetic expression melted into something more appreciative, with Chloe shooting Beca a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, Bec,” she nodded, turning her focus back to the feeding kitten again. “I’m just worried you’ll be tired at work. I’m gonna bring them to work with me and come home between classes,” Chloe explained, tip of her pointer brushing soothingly over Purple’s head. “I can also weigh them and stuff at work, and I bet some of the others will help out there, too. It was weird that nobody seemed to want to take them, though.” Her nose wrinkled, though she shook off the thought; Chloe had always been the first to jump at the chance to help, after all.

Glancing toward Beca, Chloe motioned to her chest, gaze instinctively dropping for the briefest of moments, though she quickly picked it back up again. “Still sore?”

BECA MITCHELL

“I’ll figure it out,” Beca muttered. “I can always hook myself up to a coffee IV at work, it’s fine.” She cast Chloe a tight-lipped smile before glancing back down to the kitten lapping at the milk droplet. “He seems like he’s worth it. They all do.” She peered over the side of the bed into the box of the three remaining kittens, all who seemed to be asleep at the moment.

She blinked at Chloe’s question, following her gaze and puffing out a chuckle. Her cheeks warmed and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s been a rough week. Tattoos are healed up by now but this sucks so far.” Beca sighed. “They’ll get better I guess. Eventually.”

CHLOE BEALE

“True,” Chloe shrugged, cracking a grin. “Sounds very healthy.” In spite of everything, she wasn’t trying to talk Beca out of it. In fact, she was very grateful for the help; it felt like a strangely nice bonding activity of some kind, taking care of the kittens together. While she watched Beca and Green from the corner of her eye, Chloe’s gaze drifted toward the box, sad smile tugging at her lips. “They do. I just feel bad for their mom. Their real mom,” she corrected, lifting the kitten up to talk in a baby voice, “I guess we’re your foster moms now, huh?”

Being careful not to let her gaze slip again, Chloe only nodded to Beca’s response. “Mm, when I got my navel piercing it bled for a whole week.” She paused, a look of horror creasing onto her face. “Wait, they’re not… bleeding, right?”

BECA MITCHELL

“I mean, captaining the Bellas for three years was pretty much like herding cats most of the time anyway. This shouldn’t be much different.” Beca’s heart cracked with empathy when Chloe mentioned the kittens’ mother, but then thumped harder at Chloe uttering the phrase foster moms. Like--both of them, doing this together.

She wrinkled her nose with sympathy and shook her head. “No, no bleeding. They’re just, like--super fucking sensitive? Especially in the shower. Yikes.” Beca winced. “I guess they’re not as sore as a few days ago, so that’s good.”

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe giggled at the mental image, head nodding along in agreement. “I guess. Kittens are crazy, though. Like, even more than the Bellas. Especially when they get a little bigger and want to run around all night.” She really had gotten them into something here, but there was something exciting about it too, sharing this big task, and Chloe couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what.

Her eyes immediately shot back toward the kitten, because Beca totally didn’t mean that kind of sensitive, but Chloe’s mind began to race somewhere it definitely shouldn’t. “Mm,” she hummed nonchalantly, keeping herself busy with shaking the syringe a little bit to keep Purple awake. “Then they’ll be better in no time. Be thankful you’re not a cat, if you were then the kittens would be suc—” She caught herself, trailing off and pulling the syringe carefully away, before settling the kitten down on its belly. “Gonna let your brother and sisters have some now, pretty girl?”

BECA MITCHELL

“I dunno, dude… drunk Bellas might be on that level.” She chuckled, a few specific college memories flashing in front of her eyes. (Literally flashing, in Stacie’s case.) Green Goblin yawned and licked his lips once more. Beca snickered. “Speaking of--are you milk drunk, buddy? You look like you’re ready for a nap.”

Beca’s eyes popped wide and she blinked at Chloe, amusement twisting up the corners of her mouth as she scrunched up her nose yet again. “You’re such a weirdo,” she reminded Chloe for what must’ve been the ten thousandth time throughout their friendship. “Yeah, let’s switch it up. I’ll take Red.”

#char: beca.#f2f: beca.#f2f (3) beca.#thesickestbeats

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shutupandshipit · 4 years

Text

Little Life - Ch.13

Summary: A baby could ruin his career before it had even started. If anyone found out, he would be kicked out of the Hero Course at the very least and UA at the very worst. Even then, how was he supposed to care for a baby once it arrived? He was a fucking seventeen-year-old boy, not a twenty-nine-year-old omega with their shit at least somewhat together.

…..

Or where Katsuki get pregnant, but is determined to make it to graduation. No matter what it takes.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (just for language mostly)

Chapter: 13/16

Previous <- Chapter 12

Chapter 14 -> Next

Master Post

Chapter 13: Class

Katsumi snuffled, making noise for the first time since the class period had started. Without looking up from his notes, Katsuki started to purr low in his chest. He reached between his body and the sling he kept her in to open his shirt enough to tuck her head against his chest.

Immediately, she latched on. He only stiffened for a moment at the sharp pain that reawakened from his abused nipples before settling into the familiar rush of endorphins. Katsumi didn't always want to eat when she woke up, but they'd gotten her on a pretty good schedule. Katsuki also seemed to possess a preternatural understanding of what she wanted before she started to cry, which helped because he could barely stand the crying. He knew that before getting pregnant, and it had not changed. If she was fussy, Izuku usually took her without comment to find a place to soothe her.

Katsuki studiously ignored the way Jirou was stared across the short space between them in fascination.

Katsumi had started growing quickly after her birth. Already, she was six pounds and had sprouted long limbs. She looked like a fucking muppet, but Izuku refused to let him dress her as Kermit the Frog. Not that he still didn't when he got together with Kirishima and Ochako. Mina had been exiled from baby time after she couldn't control her quirk in the baby's presence the first time.

She was still a far cry from how big most pups were even born at, but she was growing. That was the biggest thing. Her small size and uncooperative limbs seemed to be the bane of her existence and the predominant reason for her fussy crying. When she fussed and cried. So far, she'd been a pretty quiet baby, and Katsuki couldn't have been more thankful.

All of her extra energy that didn't go to crying or growing limbs twice her size seemingly went into mass producing hair just like her damn father. While her eyes were still the vibrant red of Katsuki's, her hair had become a bushel of green curls that he just knew he'd be fighting for the rest of his natural life.

Ten minutes later, Aizawa snapped his book closed at the front of the class. "Take fifteen. Midnight will be here soon." Without preamble, he strode from the room to leave his rowdy students to their chaos.

Katsuki groaned, stretching one arm over his head and then the other to keep Katsumi still. In her sling, Katsumi's mouth pulled away. She started to whine against his skin. Fishing her out to wiggle his fingers in her face, he said without looking, "Deku, can you take Katsumi? I need to piss."

Izuku swooped in beside him, pressing a kiss to Katsuki's temple as he scooped up the baby. She was dressed in an All Might onesie that was still a little big on her, but Katsuki had modified it in the important places. "Of course I can. How's my beautiful baby girl doing?" he cooed, pressing kisses all over her face and stomach as she giggled.

Katsuki stood, stretching again before returning the kiss. "She probably needs a change before Midnight gets here. I didn't change her before this period. She might be dry, but you should check." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets to keep from reaching for her again. He trusted Izuku implicitly with Katsumi, but there was always a bit of anxiety when he let her go. Izuku wasn't the problem in this equation, it was the rest of the idiots who got up to coo at the little green haired baby. If he didn't have to pee, he wouldn't leave their sides for an instant, but if he were actually being honest, he needed a moment to himself. "You know, before she starts screaming. She needs to be burped too. Give her five more minutes, and then check if she needs a change."

Before he left, he turned to Kirishima. "Don't let Mineta anywhere near them. If I find him within ten feet of her again, I will string him up by his ankles at the front gate."

Looking aggrieved, but in complete agreement, Kirishima nodded.

Izuku didn't look up at he nodded as well, spending the time blowing a raspberry against her cheek to make her giggle again. "I can do that," he said before exclaiming, "You've been eating so much, but it's all going to your hair!"

Turning, Katsuki quickly left the room, ignoring the urge to snap the necks of everyone that crowded around Izuku in his wake. He'd just have to trust Kirishima -which he also did- to keep them mostly at bay.

Instead of taking a urinal, Katsuki locked himself in a stall. When he was done, he just pressed his back to the door. He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his wrists. He was tired, so fucking tired.

Between class, homework, training and the baby, it felt like he never slept. Which was a lie. Katsumi never cried at night. Both his and Izuku's bodies were set on a timer now, and rarely did they not wake up before she even began to murmur. So, they never got the jerk of surprise from being woken by a cry. Waking up every couple of hours was still waking up every couple of hours though.

So far, Katsuki had only woken up three times to find Katsumi nursing while Izuku dosed with the two of them pulled to his chest, the baby cradled between them. And there had only been four times when Izuku didn't even twitch a muscle when Katsuki rose to get her from her crib.

Still, he was tired. He knew he would be. That was at least something that had been consistent in his research. He had been tired for ten straight months, and he was likely to be until Katsumi could at least make a sandwich on her own.

With a heavy sigh, he moved to push himself away from the door, but stopped when he heard the bathroom door open again.

"Yo, like what the fuck is up with that?" a voice asked, unfamiliar, but most voices were. He didn't usually pay enough attention to other students enough to recognize people he didn't see as frequently as his classmates.

"What's up with what?" Another unfamiliar voice.

"That prick from 3-A carrying around a baby. What the fuck is his name again? Bakugou or something?"

"Dude, didn't you see the news. That's the baby he rescued during that huge battle a month ago."

The first voice scoffed. "That's a load of crap, and you know it. Did you know he's an omega?"

"Yes? He's part of the big three and he's one of the only male omegas in the hero course? Do you even go to this school? What are you on about? Are you jealous that he's a better hero than you or just mad that he's not your omega?"

"Me? Jealous of that asshole? As if," the first voice laughed, "That baby is his for sure. He probably fucked his way to the top, and got pregnant doing it. Bet if I asked nicely, he'd get on his knees like the slut he is. I'd show him what a real alpha is supposed to be. He'd never get enough-"

Having heard enough, Katsuki kicked open the stall door, breaking the lock and the hinges in one fell swoop.

"Oh shit," the holder of the second voice whispered, eyes widening as he stood up straight from where he'd been leaning against a skin.

Darkly, Katsuki traced his eyes over the alpha standing still in front of a urinal, lingering on his dick in his hands. He smirked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Like you could ever hope to be enough of an alpha to handle me. I would wreck you," he growled, stepping passed the broken stall door to stand next to him, "Like you'd be enough of an alpha to handle my mate." His eyes dropped to the alpha's dick again as he sneered. "Pathetic. Omega or not, baby or not, I'm still going to be the top in the end."

With that very specific, very pointed double entendre, he headed for the door. He stopped by the other student who was cowering by the sink. The boy stunk of the other alpha, but the scent was forced, not mixed like it was with him and Izuku. Their coupling clearly wasn't a happy one. He clapped the student on the shoulder, and the boy flinched. "Listen omega, I'm only going to say this once. Don't settle for an alpha just because you think you need to to make it at this school as a hero. You're better than the likes of him. There are way better people out there to be your mate and friend. You can stand on your own two feet just fine."

He left before either student could get their faculties about them.

.....

Katsuki and Izuku were on the couch watching Ochako float a giggling Katsumi in her lap when Katsuki's phone rang. Picking it up, he immediately yelled, "Kirishima, catch!" before chucking it across the common room.

"Ah man, not again," Kirishima whined as he caught the phone to answer it brightly. "Mrs. Bakugou, hi! No, he's not available right now. He's at training with All Might. Right. Yes, I know. Yeah, I'll tell him. No, I don't think he's avoiding you." He shot Katsuki a heated look before returning to the call. "He's just really busy right now with practicals and finals coming up. Yeah, I'll tell him. Okay. Bye."

Kirishima walked back to him, phone in hand. "Man, stop avoiding your mom. You're going to have to talk to her at some point."

Katsuki sneered. "Like hell I do."

"Kacchan, you still haven't talked to your parents?" Izuku asked, pinning him with an admonishing glare.

"You can't say shit to me. You haven't told your mom about Katsumi either," Katsuki spat back, standing to sit on the floor beside Ochako. He wiggled his fingers in Katsumi's face and she grabbed for them, face scrunching when she couldn't quite catch them. When he stilled long enough for her to grip his fingers, she immediately stuffed them in her mouth.

Izuku's face reddened, and he stuttered, "W-well, I'm just... waiting for the perfect moment. I don't want to tell her over the phone."

"And I don't want to wake up with a knife to my throat. I'm saving your ass too. She'll kill me, but she'll hang you outside the front door like a flag, and you know it."

Izuku groaned, but didn't protest as he dropped his face into his hands. "She's just going to be more angry the longer we wait."

Ochako sighed. "I know that Mr. Aizawa said it was your jobs to tell your parents about this since you're 'adults' -loosely defined- but this is honestly a childish way to go about it. You can't hide this from her forever. She already knows you're hiding something. You need to stop hiding, and get this over with."

"Give me back my baby," Katsuki growled without much heat.

"No, she's having fun," Ochako retorted, smacking away his other hand as it reached for Katsumi, "Anyway, just meet them at the mall or something. Take All Might with you to run interference or explain or something. Just get it over with. We have some time coming up, and you should tell them before we're completely swamped."

"We're already swamped."

"Bakugou-" Ochako started.

Izuku cut in before she could say something that would actually make Katsuki take Katsumi upstairs. "That's a good point and a good idea. I'll talk to All Might."

Katsuki groaned loudly, but didn't protest. Silently, he just started to plan his and Izuku's joint funeral.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #omegaverse #omega!katsuki #alpha!izuku #my writing #multi-chapter #little life

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userdokja · 5 years

Text

A month up to you. | Steve Rogers x Reader {Two.}

Summary: After the Supersoldier saves your life, You'll do anything to thank him back.

part two to: Twenty five years and Fifty eight more.

Warnings: Just fluff and two really shy people who has a crush on each other. My Writing and Grammar

A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback on the first one! I hope you enjoy this!!

----

You and Steve went for that drink and took a long walk, you still couldn't believe that you were going to live longer and Steve must've noticed how excited you were about it because you kept on rubbing your index finger.

"Thank you, again." You said to him.

"and again, you're welcome." He gave you a smile that made you heart leap out of your ribcage.

"It's just.. I've been prepared for this day my whole life. Invented a hundred scenarios in my head thought of ways to survive, and then you came." He chucked and sipped the remaining amount of his drink before throwing it away to the nearest trash can.

"Have you ever thought of yours?" He raised his eyebrows at your question.

"Well- yes, I believe everyone has but I chose not to think of it often, not to stress about it or fear it, and I didn't try to figure out how It'll happen because If I do, I'm basically putting myself through it a hundred times before it even happens."

He was right.

"Huh." you sighed, "That was... deep. how long is your timer anyways?"

"Er.. a month?" Your eyebrows curled at his answer.

"It can't be just- hold on, You're the Captain America! You're injected with the super serum.. You can't just have a month!" You exclaimed, you see his smile falter slightly.

"I didn't just have months, I used to have almost a decade." He said as if that was going to make you feel better.

"Well, you didn't get to live it." You frowned, then an Idea came to your mind. "How about we.. try to prevent it."

"Y/n, no."

"F-fine!" It was obviously not fine, like really not fine. "How about I help you enjoy the most of it? We've got a month, Well... you have a month." Steve looked at you in the eyes, with the determination in your y/e/c ones he knew there was no way of talking you of of this.

"Alright then, My one last month is In your hands Ms. L/n."

Let's just say It's the best idea you've ever thought of.

----

Your parents were surprised when you told them about your timer, and you were sure your dad was about to pass out when you told him that it was Captain America that made it happen.

You're dad was one of those Captain America fans who had the posters and the cards that was around his office, while your mom just supported him through his obsession.

"And, I also want him to enjoy his last month alive. So, If you did it for me can I atleast do it for him too?" You waited for your parent's answer patiently, knowing that your dad would immediately agree.

"Of course, If that's a way to thank him." You smiled at your mom's answer gratefully.

"Well, Day one starts tomorrow! where do you think we should go?"

----

Day one.

You met Steve at the spot where you almost died, you told him to meet you there because it was easier to find him there.

"Well Captain, ready for the first day?" He was dressed in casual clothes, a white shirt, jeans and leather a leather jacket. Since you were the daughter of the owners of a big company you had a lot of suitors.

They all wore these fancy suits, had expensive cars. But you all turned them down anyways, Well except for this poor dude who you spilled your drink on so you didn't have time to say no to him.

But Steve Rogers? Gosh, what an angel.

"Yeah, Let's go." You walked tot he parked car on the side of the street and the door was opened for you by your driver, Harry.

The ride was silent and Steve was looking around as the car moved, You had time to think about your stupid crush on the man beside you. It was probably he saved your life or because of those pretty eyes and him being a gentleman all the time, or you're just crushing on him really bad.

"We're here." You didn't even realize you were thinking that long before Harry announced that you arrived.

"Thanks Harry, you can get yourself something while we go in." You said before slipping out of the car with Steve.

"Where are we exactly?" He asked.

"We're in an art store, My dad told me you liked drawing."

"Your dad?" your answer just lead to more questions.

"A story for another time, Let's just go in." You were actually excited to go in, yourself. While Steve was still curiously looking around.

"do you want anything?" Steve took a deep breath.

He ended up buying a sketch book 3 pencils, and a set of colour pencils. He went to pay for it but you told him you got it covered already. You walked around to look for a place for him to draw which ended up being the park, You left him to draw and wandered around for a bit.

"Hey, miss." A small boy tapped your hand. "You're really pretty."

"Awww, thank you. And you don't look bad yourself, What's your name little man?"

"I'm Troy." You kneeled down to his height and shook his tiny hands.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/n." not long enough, a woman walked towards the both of you.

"You really need to stop walking around by yourself." She picked Troy up. "I'm sorry if he was bothering you.. I'm his mom."

"He wasn't bothering me at all, He's really sweet." The mother thanked you for the compliment.

"We better get going, Still have some groceries to do." Troy waved goodbye at you before walking away with her mom. You walked back to see Steve still working on his drawing, you sat beside him and asked.

"What are you drawing?"

----

Steve's Point of View.

Steve saw you with that little boy and knew he had to draw it, the way you smiled was Perfect.

"What are you drawing?" Your voice startled him, he was too focused on drawing your dress.

"I'm showing you when I finish it." But he was already finished, he was just too shy to show it.

"I know this small diner near here, my dad's friends with the owner since childhood and basically obsessed over you too back then. But other than that they have really good food." Steve could never say no.

"Sounds fun."

A/N: there's more to come!! I hope you enjoyed this one! Love you all!

Permanent tags: @aintnouseofpretending @heartbeats-wildly @vibhati123 @just4muggles

Series tags: @star-spangled-steve @songforhema @animegirlgeeky

Marvel tags: @hollymac79

I thought you wanted to see a part two so I'm ragging you tell me if you don't want to be tagged: @mycupoffanfiction @everything-is-awesomesauce

#steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #captain america #chris evans #chris evans x reader #avengers x reader #natasha x platonic! reader #clint barton x platonic! reader #x Reader #bucky barnes

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 4 years

Text

The Plan.

[A day after the sparring match, after Kyoko reunited with Yui]

...

So...is there any particular reason why I’ve been called to this meeting about the case?

Not exactly. But you want to be kept in the know, so I decided this would be better than telling you everything that happened afterwards.

Not only that, but I’m going to be looking over some clues today. Your input would be very valuable.

*The door to Kyoko’s office opens and several people step inside.

Ms Kirigiri. I brought Ms Yamaguchi.

H-Hello detective...I brought the clues...

A-Although...

...

Something wrong?

N-No it’s nothing...I’m just curious as to why you’re here is all...

Trust me lady, I’m the same.

I have a few questions about this case that I need to ask you Mondo.

And me?

You’re here as a witness. If you could add your input on certain clues, then that’d be great.

I’ll do my best...

*Kyoko pulls up a sofa and three chairs. Makoto and Midori sit on the sofa, while Taka, Mondo and Shuichi take the seats. Kyoko herself remains standing.

So, all of you are aware of the case I’m currently investigating. As of this morning, Ms Yamaguchi contacted me saying that she had new information. Is that true?

Y-Yes. I have a collection of murder specifics and forensics results...

Good. Then, let’s get started.

Could someone maybe give Mondo and I a rundown of the case?

About 5 nights ago today, at around 6am, someone called in a body behind the alley of a nightclub called the Mighty Anchor. The officer who rushed to the scene confirmed the death upon arrival. Here’s a picture of the body...

*Midori puts her phone down in the middle of the table, showing the body of Isao.

Guh...I think I just threw up in my mouth a little...

The victims name is Kawaguchi Isao. From what we uncovered, he was a member of the Crazy Diamonds, the biggest biker gang in Japan. If I remember correctly, you used to be the leader of that gang, didn’t you Mr Owada?

Mondo’s fine dude...and yeah I was.

But...I can’t say I know this Kawaguchi guy...he musta’ joined after I got abducted in the killing game...

The body had a few noticeable bruises, but the cause of death is obvious. His head is barely hanging on in this photo...

What could the killer have used to cause a fatal wound like that?

If you ask me, I think something like an axe or a sword would create a gash like that...

I agree...but where does one randomly get an axe?

...

The Fire Axe...

Huh?

When we first visited the Mighty Anchor, and I had a brief look around the club, I noticed something on the wall. It was an emergency Fire Axe, encased in a glass box.

The glass looked pretty clean from what I remember...so maybe it was replaced recently...

So you think someone broke the glass, grabbed the axe, and used it to kill Isao?

But...surely if the glass had been broken, someone, be it Dash the Barista, or the police who investigated the scene, would have noticed by now, wouldn’t they...?

...Actually...I don’t think they would...

Why not?

On the night of Isao’s murder, he and Kizakura got into a fight. I imagine by the time the fight ended, the bar was a wreck.

If the killer broke the glass, grabbed the axe, killed Isao, washed the axe free of blood, and then put it back, they wouldn’t need to replace the glass at all. Anyone who walked in on the scene would immediately assume that the glass had been broken in the fight...

Then they wouldn’t need to replace the glass, because Dash would do it for them when he cleaned up the bar the next day!

Wow...That’s clever!

Good eye Shuichi.

But is there a way we can be sure of that?

If we take the fire axe to some forensics experts and then have them test it for blood, we can confirm it.

That’s not the only thing I noticed either...

What else is there?

Zoom in on the ground around Isao’s body for a second please?

*Midori does so.

I...I don’t see anything...

Exactly.

What are you getting at?

If Isao was murdered in that alley, then wouldn’t there be a considerable amount of blood around his body from where the axe carved open his neck?

But there’s no blood in the picture...I see...So you think he was killed somewhere else and then moved into the alley?

Kizakura told us that when he knocked Isao out, he left him where he was. This backs up his claim, but it doesn’t prove him innocent...

I should also probably tell you that the police GPS searched Isao’s phone, but they couldn’t find anything...

Hm...I see. That might be useful...

How?

Koichi claims that he had been drinking on the night of the murder. The killer wasn’t subtle, but they very clearly tried to cover their tracks. I doubt he could pull something like that off while he’s intoxicated...

Is there anything else?

Yes, there’s one more thing...I recently heard from the police what the prosecutions theory on all this is...

Prosecutor Pierce’s explanation you mean?

You know the prosecutor?

I had the unfortunate circumstance of running into him yesterday. Needless to say, I don’t like him.

I read up on Pierce before...They say he has a 100% win rate in court...

100%? That’s...impressive...

But...isn’t Ms Yamaguchi just a part timer? I think putting a part-time lawyer up against a 100% successful prosecutor may be us having the short straw...

No. There is a chance...

What’s up bro?

Alongside all the information on Pierce, there are many theories on him, particularly around those who don’t like him.

Theories such as what?

They say that Pierce hasn’t been in a single trial where he hasn’t hid the truth or lied in court in order to get his guilty verdict. Unfortunately, such theories can not be proven...

If those theories were to come to light though, it would damage Pierce’s credibility greatly.

True, but the chances of that happening seem slim.

So...what’s Pierce’s angle on the whole thing?

This whole case is being framed by the feud between Eje Karma and Koichi Kizakura...You see...

Wait...what did you just say...!?

Um...! Uh...The feud between Eje Karma and Koichi Kizakura is framing this whole case.

Do you know Eje Karma Mondo?

Yeah, I sure do...but...

But what?

Eje was one of the toughest assholes in the entire gang. He was one of the only people in that gang that I ever lost a brawl to...

And not just me...My older brother Daiya too!

Seriously!?

But...it doesn’t make any damn sense...!

What doesn’t?

A couple months after Daiya’s death and when I took lead of the group, Eje up and bolted, and I never saw his mug again...

He bolted...You mean he left the gang!?

That can’t be...! Eje Karma’s the leader of the Crazy Diamonds now! You mean he left the group before!?

Shit...maybe he came back and took over from me...? Wouldn’t put it past him...

What’s that mean...?

...

To be honest, Eje was the only one of all those gang members who didn’t respect me...

He may not look it, but he’s fucking perceptive. The night Daiya died, he had this aching feeling that I had something to do with it...But when he tried to voice his thoughts, no one believed him...

Mondo...

So...he left...And I ain’t seen him since...

Hm...So you two aren’t exactly friends...

Nah...

I see. Well, no matter. Ms Yamaguchi?

Oh! Yes! L-Like I said, the basis for all assumptions comes from the conflict between Kizakura and Karma. This is how the prosecution thinks it played out.

That night, around 10pm, the former Ultimate Scout, Koichi Kizakura, and the leader of the infamous Crazy Diamonds, Eje Karma, have a heated discussion. After Kizakura took a swing at him, Karma set his boys on the man, and had them drag him into the Mighty Anchor. At that point, Eje abandons the scene and lets his goons do the rest of the dirty work. For the next hour or so, the Biker Gang members in the bar beat the living daylights out of Kizakura. However, at around 11pm, Kawaguchi Isao, a prominent member of the gang with prestige and power, kicks all the other bikers out, saying he wants, leaving himself alone in the bar with Kizakura.

The footage from the security camera match up at this point...

It’s quite possible that Isao underestimated Kizakura. The two of them spent another hour or so in the middle of a fight, but just before midnight, Kizakura was able to get the edge on Isao, and knocked him down. However, according to the prosecution, in a drunk and spiteful rage, Kizakura got violent, and began to give Isao a rightfully deserved beatdown for another whole hour or so. Then, between 1 and 3 in the morning, he got bladed weapon and attacked him with it, carving open his neck and killing him instantly. After doing this, Kizakura grabbed the body and dumped it behind the bar.

In his testimony, Mr Kizakura made a statement. He told me that he defeated Isao around midnight, and then he left and headed for where he believes was the batting cages. But due to the lack of evidence, the claim cannot be backed up, this his alibi is shaky.

...

How about it Kyoko? Where do we stand?

The prosecution has so much at their disposal right now. Our chances of winning this are slim...

But as long as there’s hope, I’m sure we can do this.

Yeah. I believe in your detective skills Ms Kirigiri.

You say that, but you’ve been the one to find out most of the clues so far Shuichi.

Ah...well...

Anyway...That’s the prosecutions look on this whole situation...but what about the defense?

Ms Yamaguchi...? Do you think Mr Kizakura is guilty...?

No, I don’t. I’ll be honest, something about Kizakura rubs me the wrong way, but I don’t think he’s the type of person to kill someone. It’s just a gut feeling I’ve got though...

Sometimes, you’ve got to trust gut feelings. That’s something I’ve learnt from my past experiences.

Thank you Mr Saihara...But now that I think about it, there is a way that we could stand more of a chance...

What’s that?

I know enough about the suspect, but I barely know anything about the victim...My lack of information puts me at a disadvantage in this trial, but if I were to fix that...

Agreed...The primary reason I asked Mondo in today was to get any information I could but...

Mondo already said he didn’t know anyone called Kawaguchi Isao...

But then...how will we get information on the victim?

...

Mondo? What else do you know about Eje that might help me?

W-Well...I can’t say much, but there is one thing that’s weird as fuck about all this?

What’s that?

If there’s one thing I know about Eje, it’s that he’s always looking to be part of the action. If there’s a group fight, he’ll jump in. If there’s a race, he’ll join, and whatever else...

I don’t buy the fact that he just gets punched and lets his boys beat the guy up for him.

So you think there might be more to the story?

I’m saying in any other situation, Eje’d prolly join in...It’s way too weird he just leaves like that...

If what you’re saying is true...then there’s only one way to prove it...

Huh?

W-Wait...Kyoko? You’re not seriously saying that you want to...!?

I want to question Captain Eje Karma. I have to hear what he has to say on the matter...

D-D-Don’t be stupid, that’s a suicidal decision!

No shit! Eje ain’t like me Kyoko. He won’t go easy on you just because you’re a girl!

But without his testimony, we’re as good as done. His relationship with Kizakura, like Ms Yamaguchi said, is framing this whole thing. And yet he hasn’t been questioned yet. I’m going to fix that now...

With all due respect Ms Kirigiri, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to confront Karma. No doubt he’s in a bad mood after one of his best allies got killed.

Yeah...They’re probably out for blood...

Indeed. We’ll be poking the bees nest that’s for sure...

But...I have a plan...

You do?

*Kyoko goes over to the phone on her desk.

Hello? This is Kyoko Kirigiri, Branch 1.

Is Chihiro Fujisaki there?

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa 1 #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #dr1 #danganronpa another 2 #midori yamaguchi #sdra2 #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #kiyotaka ishimaru #shuichi saihara #mondo owada #the trial of koichi kizakura arc

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moorehollandplz · 5 years

Text

Truth or Dare :-: T.H :-:

Authors Note: Just a little ditty that popped into my head whilst I’ve been working on a series. If you enjoy my writing please like and reblog! And check out my other stories on my Masterlist.❤️

Summary: When the fearless Tom Holland chooses Truth, Haz asks him a question he doesn’t want to answer. But, as the rules of the game state… he must answer or suffer the consequences.

⚠️ Warning: Making out, language, drinking, (smutty)fingering, and a slight mention of sexual assault.

Word Count: 2,756

“Holland!! Truth or Dare?” Haz said drunkenly waving his hand at his best friend.

“Truth….” Toms answer drew shocked gasps from everyone in the circle. This boy was not one to choose Truth over Dare, ever. “What?” Tom asked as his eyes darted around the circle. “Haz was gonna ruin me if I chose Dare! As payback for earlier!” He defended his choice as everyone eyed him with disappointment.

“Alright… Alright, chicken shit… Truth, huh?” The group laughed as Haz mulled over what to ask his best buddy. Suddenly, Haz sat straight up. “I got a good one…” he said leaning forward with mischief in his eyes. “Tom… who are those hickeys from?” Haz asked having wanted to know the answer to that question for weeks now. He had told you how he always caught Tom smiling down at his phone or with bright new hickeys on his neck. And, Tom would always brush him off avoiding the question of who they were from.

Toms eyes widened and shot to yours for a brief moment before landing back on his, supposed best friend. “I’m not gonna answer that, mate. Ask another…” Tom said but was cut off by Jacob.

“Nuh uh, dude! Them’s the rules! You gotta answer or suffer the consequences and spin!” Jacob pointed to the bottle in the center of the circle.

“And what does spinning do again?” Tom asked a little nervous. Not having to ever spin before, because he had never backed down from a Dare.

“Whichever person of the opposite sex it lands on you have to go into the closet with for seven minutes!” Jacob answered.

“And if it lands on a guy?” Tom asked crossing his arms. “Do I get a pass?”

“Nope! The girl directly to the left goes with you into the closet!” Jacob leaned back taking a sip of beer. “That’s why we’re sat boy girl boy girl.” He gestured to the circle.

“Ah… ok…” Toms eyes found yours again for a moment. “I’ll take my chances with the bottle.” He said reaching forward and giving the bottle a good spin. Round and round it went. All the girls in the circle stopped breathing. All of them would give their left tit for a chance at going into that closet with him.

Not you, though.

You sat there with a look of complete indifference as the bottle slowed. The bottle finally came to rest on you. And, you stared at it with wide eyes. You looked up at Tom and his eyes slowly raised from the bottle to yours.

“Oh shit!!” Haz yelled and everyone joined in.

“Ha! Don’t they hate each other?” One of the girls you didn’t know asked, clearly jealous that it was you and not her going into that closet.

“Yeah!” Said Jacob with a concerned look on his face. “This might end badly.”

“This is hilarious!” Harry laughed clutching his sides. “Tom and his nemesis!! Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven!!!” He fell onto his back and laughed openly. “I gotta tell Sam!! Be right back!” Harry got up and ran up the stairs.

Your eyes drifted down to Toms lips and you saw that cocky little smirk of his, dancing around the corners of his mouth.

You rolled your eyes at him and sighed standing up. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” You looked down at Tom and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Might as well…” he rolled his eyes back at you and stood up following you to the closet.

“I’ll start the timer when the door shuts!” Jacob called after you waving his phone above his head.

You opened the door and entered the small dark space. Someone had the bright idea to put a small battery operated lantern on the floor to give the room just enough light to see what you were doing. You stepped all the way to the back trying to give Tom enough space to enter. This closet was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

You turned to face him dropping your arms at your sides and he pulled the door with him as he entered. “That girl is so jealo…” The door clicked shut behind him and before you could even finish your sentence, his lips were on yours.

You immediately melted into him. You took his bottom lip between your teeth and he groaned with satisfaction. You released his lip, flashed him a wicked little smile, and crashed your lips back to his. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip and you parted your lips to let your tongues battle for dominance like so many times before.

“What girl?” He asked his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“That tiny redhead… she’s cute.” You responded pulling back a little.

“Ah… I haven’t noticed. Been too focused on your lips all night.” He said pulling you back to him pressing his lips to yours again.

Kissing him had become so natural that sometimes you found yourself leaning into him, totally forgetting you were supposed to hate him in public.

The others were right. You did hate Tom. Since, the first day of Year Five when he pulled your hair. That hate only deepened as you grew, because of his arrogance and his cocky little smiles like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Yes, you really did hate him.

Did.

Until the party two months ago, when everything changed. That was the night Tyler, your waste of a boyfriend of just over a month, tried to force himself on you. Tom really helped you out that night. No, he saved you. You didn’t even know why you had been so upset. Everyone had told you what Tyler was. Even, Tom had told you. But, you didn’t listen.

After Tom kicked Tyler out, he abandoned the party and held you while you cried yourself to sleep. No, “I told you so’s”. And, no judgemental looks as you poured your heart out to him.

The next morning when you opened your eyes to see Tom’s adorable sleeping face, you realized that you didn’t actually hate him anymore. And hadn’t hated him for a long time. Hating him was just easy. It had almost become more of a game to see who could one up the other. Whether, it be in cards, sports, or insults. And, you can’t remember when you started to realize that your little bouts with him were actually fun.

You shared your first kiss with Tom that morning.

And, two months later here you were in a dimly lit closet full on making out with him. His hands gripped your hips as he pushed you against the back wall. You moaned into the kiss threading your fingers through his perfectly styled chocolate curls. No doubt, completely ruining them for the evening.

You tugged on his hair pulling him closer to you and he groaned in response. You smiled against his lips and tugged again.

“Shit.” He hissed between kisses and his grip on your hips tightened. He pulled your hips to his grinding into you. You gasped at the feeling of his hardening arousal. Tom pulled back breaking the kiss. “Sorry…” he whispered. “Too much?” He looked down at you with concern dancing in his eyes.

You let yourself fully appreciate his beauty. His sharp jawline, slightly kiss swollen lips, honey brown eyes glittering in the dim light, and his luscious, chocolate colored curls falling wildly onto his forehead, after having been completely destroyed by you.

“No…” you responded in a breathless whisper. “Not enough.” You pulled him back to you pressing your lips to his again.

You had gone further with Tom than you had with Tyler. Not all the way. Not yet. But, it was so easy to get lost in his kisses, that you didn’t even care when hands wandered and clothes were removed. Tom always stopped himself from going too far when you told him to slow down.

Tom released your hips bringing his hands up to your shoulders. He gently pushed you back and broke the kiss again. “Y/n…”

“Tom, we only have seven minutes…” you said in a huff leaning back in for his lips.

“I know…” Tom said holding you back and looking down at the floor between you. “But… I need to tell you something.”

“We have seven minutes… and you... want… to… talk?” You said sliding your hands down to his chest, tapping your finger to emphasize each word.

“Yeah.” He looked back up at you. “It’s… important.” You’d never seen that look in his eyes before. He looked serious. Too serious.

“Come on, Tom, what could be more important than kissing me?” You said gripping the front of his shirt pulling him to you.

“I love you!” He confessed locking eyes with you.

Your mouth was suddenly dry and you loosened your grip on his shirt. “What?” Your voice was barely a whisper. Your face was the textbook definition of shock. Your eyes were wide and your jaw dropped open.

“I love you, Y/n. I’m ‘in’ love with you.” He said as he gripped your wrists holding your hands still on his chest afraid you’d pull away. You stood there in silence as he kept going. “And… I know that’s weird. Especially… since our history is, well, what it is.” He lets out a small nervous laugh. “But, I… I’ve been in love with you since Year Ten.” He paused and you looked down at his hands on your wrists.

“Tom.” You whispered but he interrupted you and kept going.

“I don’t know why my feelings changed, but one day I caught myself staring at you. I noticed how I didn’t feel the usual annoyance at the sight of you. I noticed how my heart beat felt when I heard you laugh. Fast and wild. All I wanted was to be near you. All the time. So, I started to pick fights with you on purpose. Just so I could have a reason to talk to you.” He was talking fast trying to get it all out. So, you waited for him to finish. “And, everyday I fell more in love with you. And, You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know. And, I know… I know you want to keep us a secret. And, I’m okay with that. I am. We don’t have to tell anyone. Ever. If that’s what you want. I just… just thought you should know. How I feel. Okay… there. I finally said it.” He said leaning his forehead against yours, finally taking a breath. He was breathing heavily and you could feel that his hands had become clammy against your skin. “Please, say something, or don’t…” he shook his head. “Never mind, let’s just forget it...” He said dropping his hands back to your hips and pulling flush against him.

You pushed on his chest and leaned away from him. “Tom.” You said looking up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck… did I ruin this?” He asked looking up to the ceiling. “I’m sorry… I never should have…”

“TOM!” You cut him off grabbing his face and forcing him to look at you. “I love you, too… you div.” You smiled up at him with tears in your eyes.

Toms eyes widened and a look of relief came over his face. “Really?” He asked with excitement. His face was lit up with the most beautiful smile.

You nodded slowly pulling his face down to yours. “Very.” You kissed him. “Much.” You kissed him again. “So.” You kissed him again, but didn’t pull away. He deepened the kiss sweeping his tongue into your mouth and letting them dance together.

You moved your hands back into his hair, and Tom trailed kisses down to your neck. He gently nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, but was careful not to leave any marks. “Tom… you can… you don’t have to be… so gentle.” You said between gasps.

“But… they’ll… figure us out.” Tom mumbled against your neck.

“It’s fine! Let them figure us out!” You said letting a small moan escape your lips.

“Are you sure?” Tom stilled his assault on your neck, but you could feel his breath lingering there.

“Go for it, Holland!” You tugged at his curls pulling his face back to your neck. You felt him smile against you before firmly attaching his lips you neck. He sucked hard and bit your neck as more slightly louder moans poured out of you.

Toms hand danced over the waistband of your leggings. “May I…? He asked as he gently snapped the elastic band. He looked up into your eyes. He always asked permission before going farther than kissing. You loved that. It always excited you making you want more of him. You nodded a smile slowly gracing your face. He slipped his hand down into the front of your leggings. His fingers brushing over your wet heat making you bite his shoulder to stifle a moan. “Fuck… you’re soaked.” He growled into your neck.

“And… who’s fault is that?” You asked stifling another moan as Tom inserted a finger into your throbbing core.

Tom smiled down at you as he pumped his finger into you. You kept eye contact with him and leaned your head back against the wall. Breathy moans of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips. “You’re killing me, love.” He groaned dropping his face into your neck. He sucked on your neck again to stifle his own moans.

His lips stayed on your neck until Jacobs alarm sounded jolting you two apart. The old habit of not being found out dying hard. Tom pulled his finger out of you and you watched as he brought the dripping digit to his lips. “Fuck… Tom…” you moaned as you watched him suck the juices from his finger.

The two of you quickly fixed yourselves smoothing down hair and clothes. You took a few slow deep breaths to calm yourselves. Hoping any hint of breathlessness could be explained by heated bickering. The only thing that couldn’t be fixed was the deep purple kiss mark on your neck. So, you pulled your hair in front of your shoulder to hide it the best you could.

The door swung open, revealing Haz’s smiling face. “Wow… you’re both still alive?” He asked laughing as Tom pushed past him.

“Yeah…” you laughed with him. “It was touch and go there for a moment, but we survived.” You said following Tom back to the circle. You took your place in the circle across from him. And, you could feel his eyes on you.

“Alright, Tom it’s your turn.” Jacob said fiddling with his beer can.

Your eyes momentarily lock with Toms and he has a mischievous smile on his face. You quickly looked away from him and focused on a spot on the wall.

“Y/n! Truth or Dare?” He said and you snapped wide eyes to his.

You felt a smile tugging at your lips as you answered. “Truth.”

“Pussy…” Haz whispered.

“And proud.” You said tossing an empty can at him. You looked back to Tom and he searched your eyes, seemingly asking permission. You nodded slightly. “Go for it, Holland.” You said the same thing you did in the closet. And, that confirmed to Tom that you knew exactly what he was asking permission for.

“Ok… Truth then…” He said leaning forward his smile widening. “Who gave you that hickey?” He asked as he reached across the circle pushing your hair back off your shoulder. All eyes snapped to your neck.

“Holy shit!” Haz yelled. “That thing’s a monster!”

“She didn’t even try to cover it up before coming out tonight.” That same girl from before said, the snarky tone in her voice making you want to mess with her.

You scrunched your face narrowing your eyes at Tom playfully. You leaned across the circle slowly raising your hand from the floor.

“Oh shit…” you heard Haz. “Here goes… they’re gonna fight!”

“Or she’s gonna slap him!” Said Harry. “Go on! Slap him!”

You smiled at their words keeping your eyes locked on Toms. “You know damn well who gave me this hickey, Holland!” You said grabbing the back of his head and pressing your lips to his.

The circle erupted into chaos, but the only sound you heard was Jacobs soft whisper.

“It’s about time.”

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