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spreadyovrwings · 4 months

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64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French ‘compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it’s more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: obscene flirting... characters realising their life has more to it than their job? other characters learning other people aren't quite so scary and can be trusted? those two characters fancying each other like crazy? yeah.

Chapter Nine

Steam billowed from the kettle’s spout. You watched it swell and curl through the air, until it hit the low kitchen ceiling and dispersed. On the mantelpiece, your grandmother’s carriage clock chimed ten.

It was the longest you’d been able to sleep in in years. Though you’d been trying to cast your mind back all morning as you set about making breakfast, you couldn’t recall the last time you’d been able to go to bed without setting an alarm.

Though the days were growing steadily warmer as summer rolled in, mornings were still cold in your little flat. You tucked your chin under the collar of your thick woollen jumper and puffed out a breath to warm your body.

It had not been a good week.

It’s difficult to anticipate how one might react in a situation like yours. You thought if someone had asked you a few months ago what you might say if given life-altering news like the kind Gladys had given you, you probably would’ve said you’d rage and eff and blind until the problem righted itself. You’d go out fighting, at least. But when Gladys set off her grenade, you didn’t say a word. You just stared at her. You stared and stared, and stared some more.

It didn’t take long for you to find your voice, though. Not after Gladys started to describe the whole ordeal. She couldn’t seem to get the words out fast enough, it was like watching someone in confession. Her open mouth was like a gutter, gushing words and apologies and useless explanations until finally, you couldn’t take anymore.

“You selfish cow!”

John came into the room when the shouting started. Mickey was close behind. One of them put a hand on your shoulder, it must have been Mickey because the hand was heavy and solid like a slab of concrete.

“Skip…”

John slipped his fingers between yours, trying to bring you back down to Earth, but you barely felt him.

“How could you do this to us? To Mickey? To me?”

Gladys covered her face with her hands, her chunky rings glinting in the low lights.

“I’m sorry!”

“He’s just had a baby!”

“I know, I know-”

“This is my home!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m- I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t think in a million years he would-”

You stopped listening. John was murmuring close to your ear, telling you to stop now. His long fingers were wrapped tight around yours, keeping you grounded but only just.

“Sweetheart, leave her,” he murmured. “You should get some air. Just come with me and breathe for a second. Please.”

But that didn’t sound like a reasonable option either. You didn’t want to go outside. You didn’t want to keep having this conversation either. Standing here, shouting at Gladys, that was the only thing that made sense.

“How could you be so stupid.”

The words barely made it out from between your gritted teeth.

You felt John’s hand leave yours. Mickey too took a step back. They both seemed to realise this wasn’t their fight, this wasn’t something they had a right to be involved in, even though they were grieving too.

Gladys was the brightest, most joyous person you knew. She flitted from person to person like a hummingbird. With her brightly coloured hair and her clattering jewellery, she was as dazzling on the outside as she was on the inside. But right now, she seemed to have shrunk a few inches. Her colour had dulled. Her light had gone out.

“I just thought he was interested in me,” Gladys looked down at the floor, ashamed. “No one’s ever been interested in me. And he seemed so eager to learn about the bakery and I thought- I thought maybe he was just proud of me. For building this place. For doing something so amazing on my own. But I was wrong.”

You could still feel your pulse pounding in your neck and the base of your skull. You couldn’t recall ever feeling so angry and let down in all your life. Time seemed to be rushing by you, and all you wanted was for John to hold your hand again.

Gladys still couldn’t look at you. In a way, you were relieved. You didn’t think you’d be able to meet her gaze either.

It was difficult to order the feelings surging through you. You loved Gladys. You owed her so much. You’d do anything for her and until today, you would have sworn she’d always put you, or at least Oslo Square, above all else. Despite everything, she was a good person. You knew that. She was enticing and gregarious and too trusting and a fool. And she had let you down for the last time.

“I will never forgive you for this,” you said, then turned and walked into the kitchen, through the back door and out into the alley.

But you didn’t get far. You never would.

Sinking down on the bakery’s back step, you folded your knees up to your body and prayed the pressure would take the ache away. It didn’t. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob that lay in wait in the back of your throat.

Sun filtered through into the alleyway, falling on the ground in puddles of light. Above you, the sky was so clear, there wasn’t a cloud in sight. And you just wanted to cry and cry and cry.

There was a sound behind you, the scuff of a boot against the cement steps. You pushed your face into your crossed arms, not ready to face anyone just yet.

“Skip?”

It was John. Of course it was. Who else would they send after you?

He called you by your nickname again, then as he came to sit beside you, your real name, softer, more intimate.

Finally, you raised your head.

He was looking at you closely, his clever eyes switching across your face. He was trying to work out how upset you were, how carefully he needed to tread around you. That was just his way, John was just being a good friend, but right now, you didn't want kindness and gentleness, you just wanted to be left alone.

“John, I think maybe…”

“It’s going to be alright.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt. Usually, John weighed every word with care, as if each syllable would cost him a great deal, or he had a finite number at his disposal. You had always admired that about him; everyone else in your life spoke so carelessly, like it didn't matter at all.

“John…”

“C’mon,” he said, nodding now, like he’d made up his mind about something. “Let’s go upstairs. We’ll have a cuppa and we’ll-”

You wrapped a hand around his arm and squeezed gently, asking him to stop without a word. John looked so crestfallen, you couldn’t bear it.

You stood up, crossing your arms over your chest, as if it would help to keep the sickness sitting in your throat at bay.

“I think maybe you should go home,” you said as gently as you could. “I’ll call you later. Okay?”

John looked surprised, then a little hurt. It shouldn’t have annoyed you but it did a little. He had no idea what you were going through, he should just listen and know that when you said you needed some time, you meant it.

But the small part of your brain that could still think clearly knew that wasn’t fair. If the roles were reversed, as they had been before, you knew you would badger John relentlessly until he was forced to talk about whatever was bothering him. But this wasn’t about an exam or a tiff with his band, this was your whole life, your whole future, and it had wrenched from your grasp without you even knowing it

“Okay.” John slowly rose to his feet, his hands awkwardly moving from his pockets to his hips, behind his back and then to his pockets again. “I’ll come see you. Later.”

You nodded, your lips pulled back in a grim smile.

“I’ll call you,” you said again firmly.

For a moment, John didn’t move, he didn’t even blink. Then finally, he seemed to get the message.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Just… Be careful with yourself, darling.”

Then he was gone and you were alone again.

That was two days ago. You hadn’t left your lonely flat since.

You poured boiling water into your favourite mug, waited a few minutes, then added the milk. Your movements were robotic, rehearsed, the habit of a lifetime that required no thought at all, and thank God, as you didn’t have the energy to think or feel much of anything.

The phone rang again but you didn’t even spare it a glance as you padded back to your bedroom and closed the door.

Life went on like this for a few more days before finally, you decided to pull yourself together. You got dressed, headed downstairs, and debated whether or not to turn on the ovens.

Mickey hadn’t come into work since the news. You couldn’t blame him, he had a baby at home and a wife to reassure. You had no one. Just an empty flat and a cold, silent bakery. But even that wasn’t yours anymore. Mickey phoned often enough though, asking if there were any updates and if he could do anything to help. You wished you had something to tell him.

You looked around at the old kitchen. The multicoloured tiles from renovation after renovation, the cookers and the ovens, all older than half the buildings on the road, the pots and pans, bowls and utensils, all lying unused. They seemed to stare at you, waiting for answers, just like Mickey, just like the customers you watched from your window, who passed by every day and soon left again, looking disappointed and confused.

Yeah, you thought, me too.

You grabbed some paper from behind the till, scribble a quick note, then sellotaped it to the door.

Closed until further notice.

You stared at the sign, letting the words truly sink in, then turned and went to go hide yourself away upstairs.

Then the door chimed.

“Skip?”

You looked up, heart pounding. It had only been a few days, but it was the longest you’d gone without seeing John for the best part of a year.

You’d somehow forgotten how tall he was, how lanky and gangly he looked standing in the bakery doorway, his perfect, long hair a striking contrast to his shabby clothes.

He smiled at you, shy and unsure, and you wished you could do more than stare back.

“Hi,” John said as he carefully pushed open the door all the way and finally stepped inside.

As the door rang shut again, you gritted your teeth. You thought if he’d asked, if he’d given you the choice, you probably would’ve said that now wasn’t a good time and he should come back later.

“Hi,” you said instead, and watched him pocket the key Gladys had given him on his first day.

John looked at you like he was waiting for you to say more. You couldn’t blame him for that. You’d led every conversation you’d ever shared, guiding him and teasing him, wheedling information out of him with a fine hook. Now, you couldn’t for the life of you think of anything to say.

“You haven’t been answering the phone,” John said eventually. “I was worried.”

He cautiously approached the desk. Perhaps he’d only just noticed the thick tension in the air, or maybe he was just having trouble pushing through it, but he seemed to take careful steps, his eyes fixed on you.

“Well,” You tried not to sound huffy but it came out all wrong. “I’m kind of dealing with something right now. I don’t have time for…”

“What?”

He was challenging you, daring you to say more. You clammed up, feeling chastised.

“Did you talk to Gladys?”

You nodded.

You’d spent the last few days in meetings with your boss, discussing what had happened, trying to figure a way out of this mess, going over the details and again and again until you were both exhausted and resigned to the idea that this place was no longer yours. Everything that Gladys had built, everything you’d worked for, was gone.

“What did she say? What’s going on?”

John came closer until he could rest his hands on the counter. You stared at them, following the outline of each of his long fingers.

He really did have such lovely hands. The round onyx ring he wore on his little finger, the silver one he always took off and pocketed when he was helping out, because it was Freddie’s and he didn’t want to ruin it. The little scars from his childhood and faded burns from mucking about with machines. You’d missed them.

“Did you fix it?”

You pressed your lips together and shook your head.

“No.”

At home, you blankly stared at the ceiling, at the television screen, into the mirror. It had slowly begun to dawn on you that outside of 64 Oslo Square, you had nothing. Friends you saw once in a blue moon, no hobbies, no interests, no idea of what the future would hold. Everything, you’d put everything into the bakery, your whole life. In just a few weeks, you’d even have to find a new flat. Everything was falling apart.

“There has to be something we can do. She’s made a mistake.”

“I know.”

“C’mon, love. We can sort this out.”

It was too much. It was just all too much. You didn’t want to hear positivity and hopefulness, you didn’t want anyone to be kind to you, especially John, not after the way you’d pushed him away. You didn’t want gentleness and softness, because it meant he thought something had happened to warrant that care, and you didn’t want to be someone who needed looking after. You didn’t want to be someone that had had something so awful happen to them.

“I can’t do this.”

You pushed away from the counter and moved into the kitchen, heading for the door to your flat. All you wanted was to crawl back into bed and shut out the world. Compartmentalism had got you nowhere, not when one of the best things about your job had turned up out of the blue asking you a million questions and caring about you far more than you deserved.

You didn’t expect John to follow you, but you heard his boots clunking against the kitchen floor, his voice soft and low as he called out again,

“Skip?”

You bit back a sob. You weren’t Skip anymore. You weren’t the captain of anything. You had no bakery, no business, no prospects, you were just- You were nothing.

“Leave me alone.”

You tried to sound forceful but the words got caught in your throat.

“Love, please-”

John was right behind you as you wrenched open the door up to your flat. You could hear his stupid boots on the stairs.

“John, I can’t-”

“Just talk to me.”

“You don’t understand!”

You stopped in the middle of the stairs and span around. It must have taken John by surprise because he staggered to a halt, one foot hanging in midair, as if he’d been in the middle of a step.

“In a month, I won’t have a home or a job, and this place will be packed up and turned into luxury flats or some half-arsed storefront selling overpriced street food to bastards like him, and I won’t have anything.”

It was as if someone else was doing the talking. You could almost believe you were standing beside yourself, watching as you shouted at John, your eyes shining and your jaw tight. You wanted to tell yourself to stop, that he didn’t deserve to be talked to like that, but you couldn’t close the floodgates.

“And you, you’ll swan off with your band or pack it in and become an engineer, and you’ll forget all about us and this place, and I’ll never see you again.”

John’s eyes flashed but his expression was as neutral and measured as ever.

“That’s not going to happen,” he said evenly. “You really think that little of me?”

“Oh, shut up, I was only-”

“Don’t tell me to shut up. You don’t get to decide how much I care about something. Alright?”

“Why would you care? You’re just the delivery boy. Some student Gladys took pity on cos she can’t resist strays.”

“I love this place too, you know I do. Things aren’t as easy for me as you think.”

You scoffed. It annoyed you that he could be so rational and calm at a time like this, when all you wanted to do was shout and accuse and lash out.

“Oh, poor John. It must be so hard for you, being a genius and having to choose between being rich and famous and being a bloody rocket scientist, or whatever the fuck it is you do. Life must be so difficult.”

Finally, John scowled. He moved closer, so now he was on the step just below yours, your faces level for the first time.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Not for lack of trying!”

“You’re so- I’ve given you more of myself than I’ve ever given anyone!”

“Oh, well lucky me.”

“God, you’re-”

“What?”

“You’re…”

John trailed off. He seemed to realise, at the same time as you, just how close you were to each other.

You waited, hardly daring to breathe. John was maybe a few inches away, his chin tilted up ever so slightly so that he could meet your gaze. His pretty, silvery green eyes were fixed on yours, as if to make a point. You were fighting the same urge, to not look down at his lips, angled so perfectly up towards you, it was enough to make your chest lurch.

Slowly, so slowly it was almost painful, you watched as John’s gaze finally slipped and he glanced down at your mouth. Surrender. You followed immediately, and felt time speed up again. You caught your breath. Your heart was hammering so hard, you were sure John must’ve been able to hear it, feel it.

John’s gaze dropped again and stayed for longer this time, very obviously debating something that terrified and excited you all at once. It was just a matter of who would give in first.

“We’re not going to kiss,” you whispered, not trusting your voice. “Not like…”

You made the mistake of letting your eyes fall to his lips again, one last time. They parted ever so slightly, an invitation, like he was asking you to give in and take what you’d been wanting for so long. You pressed your lips together and immediately regretted it. You’d given yourself away.

The corner of John’s mouth twitched up into a little smile.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. “You said some horrible things to me.”

You pulled in a lungful of air and closed your eyes. The moment was gone, but it still took you a second or two to get your feet back on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” You rubbed your tired eyes, feeling guilty and ashamed and dizzy all at once. “I was being stupid.”

John shrugged.

“Just because it was hurtful doesn’t mean it wasn’t accurate.”

“Still, I’m being an idiot. I’m sorry, John. It’s been a fucking awful week.”

He smiled to let you know he understood. Then his eyes dropped to your mouth again, just for a second, but you couldn’t have missed it.

“Not like what?” he asked softly.

“What?”

“You said ‘We’re not going to kiss. Not like…’. Not like what?” John raised his eyebrows. “Not like this, you mean?”

It hadn’t occurred to you that you’d spoken those words out loud. It was jarring to hear John repeat them back to you, and even more surprising to realise that’s exactly what you meant.

You nodded.

“Not like this.”

This wasn’t the right time, as much as it pained you. He was so close, looking up at you so sweetly, telling you how much he cared about you and that he just wanted to help. But John was right, you’d been horrible to him, and you were so sad you could barely breathe. When you did kiss him, you wanted it to be right, you wanted it to be good, you wanted to make the world stop turning.

John nodded, looking down at his ridiculous shoes. When he looked up again, his gaze still lingered antagonistically around your mouth. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

“When then?”

“What?”

“When can I kiss you?”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed.

“When you get me my bakery back.”

John grinned. He had such a lovely smile, so bright and honest.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Promise?”

John crossed his index finger over his heart.

“Promise.”

You beamed at each other. For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed, like nothing was wrong, or could ever be wrong. Because John was here and he was smiling at you, and he wanted to kiss you and knew you wanted to kiss him. But then reality slowly seeped in, harsh and so cold, it made you shiver.

“It’s hopeless, John,” you murmured, and pressed your face into your palms.

John wrapped his long fingers around your forearms and squeezed gently. When he carefully pulled your hands away from your face, you saw he was smiling sweetly.

“Shall I stick the kettle on?” he asked.

You’d never heard anything more romantic in your life.

You led him up the stairs to your flat and let him make you a cup of tea, while you sat on the sofa and watched him move around in the kitchen.

It was only tiny. Even ‘kitchen’ was a generous word, it was just the two sideboards, the hob and some cupboards set into the wall, but John moved around them as if he’d lived there all his life, and you were, once again, assured that he was fated to be 64 Oslo Square’s delivery boy.

“I was thinking about finding a flat. For after uni.” John handed you a mug and sat down beside you. “You could, um… Maybe I could start looking now and… You know, obviously we don’t know when things will… But I could look and…”

You blinked at him.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

John’s cheeks were tinged pink.

“I just want you to know you have options. I know you’re going to figure this out, but I want you to know you have somewhere safe to stay.”

Your chest squeezed as a wave of affection washed over you. How did you ever get so lucky? It was a small relief, in a way, to know that no matter what happened, you had a friend in John. The idea of moving into a flat together felt unreal right now. The more you pondered on it, the more the severity of your situation seemed to settle in.

“There’s nothing to figure out, John.” You sighed. “Gladys signed the paperwork. You know, she didn’t even really understand what she was signing? He got her drunk then pushed the papers across the table and told her he wanted to invest in the bakery, she just had to sign. Daft cow.”

“How’s Mickey taking it?”

“He’s alright. He’s a fantastic baker, he could find a job anywhere.”

“So could you.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You’re joking. Everything you make is incredible! And you’re passionate and you’re dedicated… You could find somewhere else. Maybe start your own place someday.”

You laughed softly, embarrassed by the compliment. His faith in you was flattering. No one had ever said anything like that to you before.

You reached out and took John’s hand, folding your fingers between his and interlocking them, as if you’d done it a million times before.

“You’re so sweet. But I can’t.” You squeezed his hand gently. “I started working here when I was sixteen. Have I told you that?”

John shook his head.

“I used to pass by on my way to school. Me and my friends would come in every Friday. And every day, Gladys was there, behind the counter. And she was mad and funny and she let us stay all afternoon, even though we only had enough money for a cuppa and a cake. And when I left school, there was one place I wanted to work.”

You looked up at the photo of you, Gladys and Mickey on your mantelpiece. Your tiny, ridiculous, mismatched family.

“I was just behind the counter at first, like you. But it was fun, it was a living. Then Shaz, the head baker back then, she started letting me help out. I loved it so much. The time things took. The attention to detail. The warmth of the kitchen. And it’s stressful but it’s full of love. You know? Everything we make is…”

You squeezed John’s hand again.

“When you see people smiling because of the things you make… It’s the best feeling in the world. I asked if I could start working as a baker and Gladys agreed, and even knocked a bit off the price of this place.”

Together, you looked around at your tiny flat. It wasn’t much but it was home, it was yours. You’d never had anything that was just yours before, and you couldn’t stress it enough, the importance of having space, having ownership, a room of one’s own, especially for a working class woman in 1973, especially for someone making it on their own.

“This is my home, John. And these people, they’re my family. I had nothing and the bakery gave me a purpose. I can’t just find somewhere else. I can’t. I can’t. It’s Oslo Square or nothing.”

John watched you for a moment, and you wondered if maybe you’d bored him with your outpouring. You wouldn’t be shocked. But then he raised your interlocked hands and held them to his chest.

“I’ll get it back for you. I promise.”

You laughed softly. He’d surprised you yet again.

“Where did you come from, New Boy? You really are an angel, aren’t you.”

“I don’t know about that.” John shyly glanced away. “The bakery means a lot to me too now. I want to help. If I can.”

Was it too early to revise your ‘no kissing’ policy? You really wanted to kiss him. Actually, kissing John would probably fix most of your problems. Or, at the very least, make them much easier to deal with. God, you could probably make him moan with just a kiss, you could tell from looking at him that he’d be a noisy one. Or maybe he’d lay you back on the couch and run those stupidly big hands all over you, playing you like one of his instruments. You wouldn’t mind that at all.

“Skip?”

You blinked. John was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, sorry,” You gave him a wonky sort of a grin. “Just a bit tired, I think.”

John didn’t look like he believed you but he let you off the hook.

“I think you need to get out of the house.”

You had to agree. Aside from nipping to the shops for the essentials, you hadn’t left your flat since Gladys’ news.

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Well, actually,” John said guiltily. “I have to meet the lads at three. I wondered if you wanted to come.”

“To watch you rehearse?”

“It’ll probably be really boring for you, but you’ll get to see a few arguments. And we can get lunch first or dinner after or… I don’t mind, I just want you with me.” John blushed. “But you can say no, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed softly. He really was the sweetest boy alive.

“I’d love to, John.”

That afternoon, Queen were rehearsing in a studio space in South London. John was tempted to grab the tube but you convinced him onto the bus, remembering, as you handed over your change to the driver, that he’d once admitted he was nervous about travelling that way. If he was going to be a proper Londoner, you thought, he had to learn how to use the buses, and the 49 seemed as good a place to start as any.

You watched John watch the world go by. He really was so beautiful and he had no clue. He had some semblance of an idea that he was alright, you knew that. The way John preened in front of every passing mirror told you so. But he didn’t see the lovely slope of his strong nose, or the way his grey eyes shone every time he saw something that piqued his interest, or the way his lovely, funny mouth twitched at the corners just before he was about to murmur something to you in that lovely, funny voice.

You’d tell him, you decided. Soon. You’d tell him just how beautiful you thought he was.

It was only when you followed John through the quiet, carpeted corridors of the recording studios that you began to feel nervous. You’d never been anywhere like that before, it was a foreign land.

As you passed, you peered through the porthole windows of every door to catch glimpses of steely grey microphones and mixing desks in big glass boxes. It was like something out of a film, something you’d only ever seen in magazines and photographs.

John seemed totally at ease. You supposed you were seeing him in his world for the first time. He would protest, he was a scientist, an engineer, he wasn’t a rockstar, but he was a musician, through and through. This world of dials and crossfades and endless electric cables suited him very well.

Eventually, he pushed open a door and held it open for you, gesturing for you to go in first.

The room was only small, probably all he and his friends could afford to hire by the hour. In the corner sat a shiny, black grand piano. Freddie tapped on the keys, humming under his breath as if building a tune just from a few plaintive notes. Next to that, there was a row of guitars all standing to attention, and a drum kit, steadily being put together to just the right requirements by Roger.

He looked up when the door opened.

“Hi, John. We were just saying-” Roger stopped in his tracks and immediately brightened when he saw you come in. “Bakery girl!”

“Hiya, Rog.”

You laughed as he came over to give you a big hug. It had been a while since you’d seen John, so it had been even longer since you saw his friends. You were sure Roger was only sweet to you because he knew it annoyed John but you were more than happy to play along.

John waited until Roger had gone back to his drum kit to stop frowning.

“Brian not here yet?” he asked, a little gruffly.

Freddie scoffed.

“He’s late. Again. He’s teaching somewhere in Balham. He’ll probably be hours, you know how he likes to bang on. You don’t play guitar, do you, love?”

You smiled shyly as Freddie also came over to greet you.

“No, sorry. Just the recorder in Year 3.”

“Ah, you’ll fit right in.”

Freddie beamed.

You didn’t know him as well as Roger but every time you saw Freddie, you practically tripped over yourself to befriend him. He was just so cool, so beautiful, his voice soft and his mannerisms so enchanting. He drew you in, just as he did the crowds when he was on stage, like a siren beckoning in beguiled ships.

“How are you doing?” Freddie held you by the shoulders as his soft dark eyes searched yours. “We’ve heard about this awful business with that twat. Andrew, was it?”

“Alastair.”

“That’s the bastard.” Freddie shook his head. “I’m so sorry, love.”

You wondered how much John had told them. By all accounts, he wasn’t the most talkative of people. In fact, you were still getting used to how much he spoke now. If you compared the boy standing beside you to the boy who first anxiously walked into the bakery that cold January night, you would almost say they were completely different people.

“Thanks, Freddie.”

“Are you staying?” asked Roger.

You glanced at John and he shot you an encouraging smile.

“If it’s okay with you lot?”

“Make yourself at home!”

You found a seat off to the side, just behind John’s amp.

You couldn’t help staring, transfixed, as he got himself set up. You could watch his hands forever, the way his fingers slipped over the strings, how the instrument fit perfectly against his body. Even watching him plug in his bass was mesmerising. It all just seemed to come so naturally to John, as most things did. He really was wonderful.

Queen warmed up slowly, giving Brian more time to turn up, and as they did, they passed ideas back and forth to each other. It was like a foreign language. Musical terms, notes, lyrics, pacing, you didn’t understand any of it, though you loved to listen to the boys figure it all out together.

For the most part, Freddie and Roger talked back and forth, while John watched, thumbing pensively at the thickest string of his bass as he waited to play. But you noticed how they never decided anything without consulting John for the final say, and his word seemed to be gospel.

John looked back at you over his shoulder and shot you a rare confident smile. You just had time to blush before the door opened and Brian fell in, apologising and shaking his head so that his wild, dark curls danced.

Brian waved to you but didn’t waste any time chatting. He grabbed his guitar and struck up a chord that filled the room with that familiar, quintessentially them sound.

They were magic to watch. You couldn’t wait to see what they became.

Soon, Freddie started to complain that he needed a drink to soothe his raw voice, and Roger and Brian went with him. They asked if you and John wanted anything but you both declined quickly, eager to be alone together again.

As soon as the door shut behind them, John turned to you properly and smiled. He nodded down at his bass, asking wordlessly if you’d like to try.

Grinning, you nodded too, and tried not to look too pleased as he ducked out of the strap. John gently lifted it over your head, and you tried to keep still as he settled the bass against you. You’d never held a bass guitar before. You hadn’t expected it to be so heavy.

“Oof, wow.”

You rolled your shoulders back, adjusting your posture so that you could balance its weight better.

“I know,” John’s hands skirted over your shoulders, making sure the strap was sitting comfortably first before he came round to stand in front of you. “I’ll have a terrible back when I’m an old man, I’m sure of it.”

Trying to remember how his hands moved when you watched him play, you lifted your left hand and pressed the tip of your index finger against the first metal string. It was thick and strong, and indented your skin as you pressed down. You couldn’t imagine how he managed to play so quickly, so deftly. The instrument seemed ungainly and oversensitive to you.

“You make it look so easy.”

John just smiled.

It was nice to see him in his element, to see him confident and sure of himself. He’d had once told you that he only picked up the bass because his first band needed it. You found it hard to believe, John and the bass, they seemed made for each other.

“You’ve almost got it. Here.”

You held your breath as John moved to stand behind you again. His left hand came up to cover yours, gently twisting your wrist around so that it was positioned nicely under the neck. With his other hand, he plucked a few notes on the lowest string, then took your index finger between his and showed you how to curl it just right. You swallowed thickly, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to hear your shaky breaths.

“Feels funny,” John said as he watched you pluck out a few tentative notes. “Me teaching you something for once.”

Face hot, you just tried to concentrate on playing right.

“You’re a much better baker than I am a bassist.”

John moved closer to correct your left hand, and now his chest was pressed up against your back. You tensed, trying to keep as still as possible but it was difficult to concentrate with him so close. All questions about whether he was doing it on purpose left your head when he spoke softly by your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“I don’t know,” John let his hand slip down your forearm, just as it did the neck of his bass, and tentatively let it rest just above your waist. “Looks pretty good from where I’m standing.”

You stopped attempting to play, it was pointless. You couldn’t so much as hold a thought in your head, let alone carry a tune. You turned your head to the side until you could just see John out of the corner of your eye.

“You’ve taught me a lot, you know,” John went on. “Not just the baking. You’ve made me much braver.”

His big hand felt heavy against your side. You were suddenly hyper aware of the slightest movement of each of his fingers. While his other arm was slung across the body of the bass, his fingers tucked underneath it to support its weight, the fingers of his left hand pressed into your soft waist ever so slightly and you had to hold back a gasp. You were touching so much, it was insane, you could barely remember your own name.

“I think I just bullied you into talking more.”

Your voice was shaky and low. You knew John would catch it but you didn’t care. You were too busy thinking about how warm his chest felt against your back, and how if you angled your hips just right, you could sink back into him until his hips were fitted against your arse. Then John spoke again, so close now that it felt like his lips were close to brushing your neck

“I’m glad you did.”

You could practically feel him smile against your skin as he added,

“You’re good for me, I think.”

Slowly, carefully, you turned your head a little further, and John shifted around so that you could meet each other’s gaze properly.

His confidence seemed to slip the moment he knew you could see him, but the hand that rested heavily on your waist slipped down to your hip and squeezed.

“I think you’re good for me too,” you said, and smiled when John blushed under your gaze.

There was no space between you at all. Just one move, one inclination of your head, one press of John’s hand, and you’d be in his arms, your fingers in his lovely hair, your mouth pressed against his with only the bass between you, and suddenly the worst week of your life would be over.

You had just the wherewithal to realise how wrong you’d been. You thought you were alone, you thought you had no life outside of the bakery, but here you were, in the arms of the sweetest boy you’d ever known, listening to his band create some of the best music you’d ever heard, and John truly believed everything would be okay. Maybe you ought to trust him.

John let out a short breath, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, as if he too was nervous and excited and uncertain all at once. How sweet it was to know he felt exactly what you were feeling.

“What you said about, erm, no kissing till I’ve got your bakery back,” John murmured, his pretty eyes fixed unashamedly on your mouth. “Is that a… Is that a hard and fast rule? Or more like a suggestion?”

You smiled, and watched John’s adam’s apple bob in his lovely throat.

“What do you think, pretty boy?”

It was very clear from the look in John’s eyes what he thought about that. He bent his head, slowly and with great consideration, just like with everything he did, until the tip of his nose brushed yours. You felt your eyes close without you needing to think about it, your lips parting as you heard John say,

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting t-”

“Oh, have we got a new bassist? Lovely.”

Your eyes snapped open in time to see Freddie swoop into the room with a drink in his hand. He was smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“I can’t tell you how pleased I am, love. You’ll look much better in the costumes.”

John begrudgingly moved away but he was smiling to himself. Caught. When his hands left you, it felt like all the air had come rushing back into the room.

The boys chatted as they filed back in, passing around ideas and thoughts on the next show, but you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears.

John stayed close. You couldn’t be more relieved. After today, after this week, you never wanted him to move out of arm’s reach again.

“Thanks for today,” you whispered to him, when you were sure the others wouldn’t hear you. “I needed this.”

John shrugged, then carefully helped you out from under his bass. He slipped it over his head, then swung the guitar round so that it wouldn’t bump against you as he took your hand in his.

“You’ve saved me enough times. It’s about time I returned the favour, Captain.”

“I’m still Captain, am I?”

“Of course! You’ll always be my captain.”

“I was worried… I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to see me anymore, now you don’t have to.”

John smiled.

“It wasn’t the bakery I was coming to see, love. I haven’t been getting up at the crack of dawn and peddling across half of London for the bakery. I didn’t suffer scraped knees and a daft helmet for Gladys and her bloody ancient coffee machine.”

You marvelled at this for a second, then you smiled.

“It’s Mickey, isn’t it.”

John laughed.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Can’t get enough of the bloke.”

“I knew it, I knew it.”

”It’s the arms.”

“Who can blame you.”

Master List

#john deacon #queen #john deacon x reader #john deacon reader #john deacon fic #queen fic #john deacon x you

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 months

Text

Ever in our favour

CHAPTER EIGHT - FINALE

[Table Of Contents]

Summary: The final fight... Who survives this deadly ordeal? Warnings: canon-typical violence, descriptions of mutated creatures, descriptions of blood and injuries, minor character deaths, brief mention of familial abuse Author's Note: Well, this is it! The last update of this series, I can officially mark this one as completed! It's been a long time coming, and I took a long hiatus halfway through, but I'm so incredibly proud of myself for finishing this story, and how well it turned out! Let me know what you think, comments are my life's blood!

You were so excited! It must’ve been silly, or would’ve been if anyone else had known about it. But you didn’t mind being a little silly, a little love-struck, since you wouldn’t be feeling much of anything but fear here soon. So you welcomed it, and rubbed the little scrap of paper between your finger and thumb once again, feeling the easy glide of the shiny material. You weren’t sure how he managed to sneak a scrap, or even how he managed to write the words on there, but you weren’t complaining.

“Stairwell D has roof access…

Midnight?”

You had also noticed a small smudge at the end of the words like Peeta had written something before trying to erase it. Something small, almost like a drawing. When you stared at it before, in your room, you had imagined and hoped it was a tiny heart. You can understand wanting to wipe that away, just in case. In case someone found the paper, or perhaps he thought you didn’t return his feelings? Well, in your fantasy, he had feelings for you. In reality, it was a bit harder to tell.

You felt like you had eyes on you constantly. In the training areas, obviously, but also in the hallways and living areas, even your bedroom. It felt… invasive. Though you supposed, your death will be recorded as live entertainment soon. You would wonder where the line was, but you didn’t think there was one. Or, perhaps, it was on the roof access? You’d hoped, at least, that there’d be no cameras. That you could finally talk to each other, alone, unafraid of your words.

You were currently making your way there. Supposedly, you were sleeping back on floor 9, in your extravagant and unnecessarily wide bed. Instead, you had slipped out, quiet as a mouse as you stuck to the walls, searching for the correct stairwell. This probably would’ve gone better if you’d scouted it out, but the moment you had read the note you’d began to make your way out. You hadn’t felt safe taking it out any sooner, until after you’d retired to your room. It might still be an hour early, but you wouldn’t mind the wait.

You’d already checked the stairwell on the eastern side of the building, but it hadn’t been the right letter. You hoped you’d find it soon, as you really didn’t want to be caught out here. Luckily, as you turned the next corner, the large D sat above a door, the stairwell symbol next to the handle. You rushed quickly, hand skirting over the cold medal as you pushed your way in.

The stairwell was quiet. You’d thought the hallway was too, but there had been this slight buzzing sound before. Now it’s like everything in the world was still. You hesitated on your floor a moment longer, closing your eyes and basking in the stillness of it. This was what you missed from District Nine. The peace and quiet, the serenity of the waves of grain and- the loneliness of it all. You opened your eyes and could feel a smile playing on your lips. You were ready to see him.

You began to rush up the steps, around and around, counting the floors. Ten, Eleven, Twelve. You leaned over the railing and peaked upward, one more stairwell to go. You could see the moonlight shining through the windows above. You held back a giggle by biting your lip, readying yourself to run up those last few steps. The door opened behind you.

You gasped and spun around, picking your hands up in a defensive stance. Just as you turned around, you noticed her turning back around as well, as if she was looking behind her to make sure she wasn’t being watched as she pushed through the door. You lock eyes with one of the most popular tributes in this season. Katniss Everdeen.

You both startle, and hesitate. The door closes behind her and you’re once again shunted into that noiseless space, the sound of both of your breaths mixing in the air. You made to take a step back but almost tripped on the stair upward, grabbing the railing to keep yourself standing. You huff an awkward laugh, glancing up, then back to her. “Did he invite you too?”

She looks confused at first, her eyebrows pinching together and down. You hesitate for a moment, glancing up once more before back to her, then behind her. She shakes her head slowly, lowering her arms. “No,” She whispers, “No, what do you mean? Who invited…?” She trails off, unsure of her own words. You try a small smile, but it feels forced.

“Peeta. He invited me to the roof,” You point up toward the stairwell, toward where you were itching to go. He still might not be there, but the idea that he was or would be? “I thought for a second that he invited you too.”

“Peeta,” She begins, tilting her head, then looking up. “I saw him going this way, I just thought…” She trails off again as if all of the dots are finally connecting in her head. She meets your gaze, her piercing stare directly into you. “What is your deal anyway?”

“What?” You ask on instinct, flinching very slightly. You shake your head and attempt to force a smile once more. “What do you mean?”

“You keep hanging around Peeta,” She lifts a finger, pointing it loosely in your direction. “In- In the training rooms. After Caesar’s shows. Anytime I look for Peeta, you’re there too.” She takes a step forward toward you, “What do you want with Peeta?”

“What do I want-” You repeat her slowly as if trying to comprehend the question. Did she suspect you of playing him? Why did she even care, Peeta had said Katniss never pays him any mind? “I don’t want anything with him. I-” You stutter slowly, shrugging, “I mean, besides his time. If he was willing to spare any.”

“You’re trying to gain his trust, why? Are you going to betray him in the arena? Or use him until it’s time to cut him off?” She takes another step forward, dropping her arm and glaring at you. “Or did you plan to string him along to the final two, just to off him then?”

“No,” You try to argue, shaking your head quickly. “No, of course not.”

“There’s nothing else this could be,” Katniss argues, shaking her head as well, albeit slower. “You know what this is just as well as I do. We’re not just going in there to die. We’re going in there to kill each other.” She said those words harshly, each word enunciated with intent. You could feel them shake your core. “We’re not just sacrificing ourselves, we’re-” She huffs a laugh, though you doubt it was one of humour. “We’re being forced into submission by a Capitol that doesn’t care about family, or hope, or love.”

You flinched on the last word. You tried not to, but you flinched, and you knew Katniss had seen it. She widened her eyes, falling back a step. Your head shakes quickly, taking a step forward. “No, please, Katniss. You have to believe me. I know all of that. I know what we’re being thrown into, how hostile this entire thing is. But I-” Your voice cracks, and you can feel tears springing to your eyes. “I don’t care how this game plays out, I could never hurt Peeta. So, you don’t need to worry about me.” You shrugged your shoulders, the disparity weighing on them. “If you’re worried about Peeta, just know I’ll give my life to make sure he wins.”

She breathes heavier, and emotions- fear, disbelief, anger- flicker through her eyes in rapid succession. You’re surprised she’s so easy to read, how was she surviving here in the Capitol? She raises her finger again, taking a hard step forward to poke you in the chest. “Leave Peeta alone. Run from him in the arena. Stay. Away. From him.” She backs up until her back hits the door.

“I won’t hurt him,” You whisper, tears coming to your eyes. Nothing she could say would deter you, of course. You were still going up those stairs, still going to see him, still going to meet up with him in the arena and protect him with everything you had.

“Don’t you see?” Katniss whispers, snarling at you, her own tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. “This. Doing this, giving him this hope. That is what will hurt him. Seeing you die. Don’t you get it?” She’s shaking her head as she pushes open the door, wandering back to her own floor and leaving you with the buzzing and the silence and the tears, slowly dripping down your face.

The talking ends as Marvel hoists his spear above his head, horizontally. He was rearing back, ready to throw, as Katniss let loose her arrow. It hits his elbow, causing him to drop his spear and rear back in pain. All three of you began running, Peeta just ahead of you to your left and Katniss off to the right side. Glimmer was rushing toward Katniss, Marvel nearby but distracted. You and Peeta sprinted toward Cato and Clove, both of whom had a manic but pleased smirk on their face. Peeta was rushing to drop a backpack strap, trying to hoist it around himself, and just managed to raise it in front of his head as Clove threw the first of her daggers. Cato swings his sword in a circle, then arcs it down right as he expects Peeta to be in range.

Clove grabs another dagger, her eyes on Peeta. He was dodging around Cato’s sword swings, trying to somehow be more agile than he normally was. You’d already seen a slice bleeding on his arm, the backpack sliced open and dropping its contents. An arrow whizzes by, and you draw in a deep breath, watching Clove raise another hand. You raise your own- this knife was useless, too flimsy, too close range- and throw it with all of your might. The knife spins in the air and the aim is off and wobbly. It won’t hit her, but it doesn’t need to. She doesn’t throw the knife she had aimed, jumping back away from your throw uselessly.

She looks up to you, growling into the air. She begins to charge, tackling you to the ground. You both struggle, but she has knives hooked in her hands, short and hardly painful cuts appearing on your skin everywhere you look. You heave, then heave again and you flash back to pushing Thresh’s body off of you before he died fully, and Clove was suddenly thrown from atop you, onto her side and crying out. You stumbled, throwing yourself on top of her and grabbing one of her hands with both of your own, shaking and yanking downward. She drops one knife as she stabs you in the back with another, and you cry out but reach forward, finally grasping hold of a capable weapon just before being slung off of the teen girl.

You roll, then look directly up to Cato, dodging your head to the side just as a sword buries into the ground above your shoulder. Cato’s body is tackled away, the blurry form of Peeta wrestling him to the ground as Clove stands behind where they just were, readying to tackle you. You throw your boots out, kicking her in the stomach during her dive and redirecting her to the side. You scramble quickly after that, trying to get your own feet under you. You tuck the dagger into a pocket and take hold of the sword’s hilt, yanking it out and feeling the heft. It was heavy, and you had to wield it with two hands just to swing it properly. Clove, standing, cackles at you.

“You really think you could wield that? You?” She rushes and you swing wildly. Despite Clove’s taunting, a sword is still a sword. Your swing is wobbly, but the sword is faced in the right direction, and it cleaves into Clove’s arm without issue. You wince from pain as your back pulls, the fresh wound made apparent, watching Clove stumble back in shock. She presses a hand to her arm, pulling it back to widen her eyes at the sight of her blood. She looks up at you, startled, then throws a dagger. It hits your shoulder- she must’ve thrown in a panic- and you gasp in pain, dropping the sword to the ground.

You reach a hand up to your shoulder, grasping the knife as you watch Clove turn tail and begin running. Glimmer was on the ground, motionless, with Katniss kneeling in the dirt and aiming an arrow at Marvel. He was favouring his injured arm, but he still swung his spear around in arcs, trying to hit Katniss. She rolled back once, then twice, and you see Clove still running, and getting away, and Peeta is calling out in pain and there’s no time.

“Katniss!” You yell for her, and she turns to look at you just as Marvel stumbles and falls to the ground, an arrow sticking out from his thigh. You point, yelling, “Clove!” You both turn at the same time as the dark-haired, pinched-faced teen girl grabs ahold of- of Rue! She spins her around and holds a knife to her throat and-

Katniss looses her arrow, straight through the middle of Clove’s chest. She falls backwards, and Rue immediately takes off running once she feels the girl’s grip fall from her. Rue is crying, it seems, tears streaming down her face. Katniss is held down by Marvel, struggling, and Peeta- ‘Where’s Peeta?’

You’re tackled to the ground, a familiar sword gleaming brightly right against your throat. “I know I said I’d save you for last,” Cato grabs your head with his other hand, lifting and smacking it down quickly. Your vision turns blurry as you try to orient yourself. “But I always relished the idea of your death. I told them you were mine, you know?”

You haven’t stopped struggling once, but you were no match in strength. You threw your head, regardless of the threat above you, rapidly side to side. You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t see Peeta. Cato sat up straight, taking the sword vertically, placing the very tip against your throat. You swallow and feel the blade cut just lightly with how close it is to you. You finally look up once more, raising your hands to try to push Cato’s hands back but it’s useless, and you’re stuck once again and how do these people keep pinning you down?

As Peeta- because of course it is, who else would it be?- tackles Cato off of your chest, you flash back to every single time he’s done that already. In the very beginning, when you woke up. At the river, after you saved his life. His attempt with Thresh.

You shoot up and scramble to your feet, watching as Peeta ruthlessly picks up the discarded sword, lifts it above his head, and brings it down. You watch as it slices clean across his throat- Cato, killed by his own weapon. Rue tackles into you, and it forces you a step back, but barely. You hold her to yourself, looking around quickly. Peeta, standing and dropping a bloodied sword. Rue, panting with fear and exhaustion against you.

Katniss, heaving with breath and with blood pouring from her nose, raises her bow and notches her final arrow, immediately turning to set it on you. Marvel was lying to her side, likely dead as well now. You feel a flashback from earlier in the day quickly cross your mind, though the rest of your thoughts pool to, ‘This is it, finally. I guess that’s okay. At least I know Peeta is safe…’

You’ve never seen him move so fast in your life. He dives in front of you, stumbling in his effort to stop his forward momentum. He turns to face her directly, falling backwards into you. You catch him, of course you catch him, and hold onto his back as he reaches back to hold onto you as well, one of his hands pressing against Rue’s fluff of hair. His voice is rough with exertion as he yells out, “No!”

“You-” She lowers her bow slightly, the arrow still pulled taut. “They betrayed us!”

“No, they didn’t!” He yells back, shaking his head furiously.

“You heard what Cato said!”

“He’s lying!”

“Well, we can’t ask them, can we? They’d just lie.” She raises her bow again, placing the string against her mouth.

“They don’t remember!” He calls out, his voice wrecked. You tighten your hold on Peeta, ready to shove him to the side at a moment’s notice.

“They-” Katniss lowers her bow again, looking at him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “So what? You’re running on blind faith? On hope?”

“What else is there?” Peeta screams, taking a step forward and breaking the hold between the two of you. “If we don’t have hope, then what do we have? Nothing!”

The barking gets louder suddenly, out of nowhere, and all three of you turn to see the mutated mutts. Where once they clawed at an invisible barrier- that barrier seems to have disappeared. They were running, fast and agile and straight for all of you. The four of you turn immediately, beginning an all-out sprint, similar to earlier. You knew you could outrun them, you just had to use all of your stamina to do so. Rue begins to fall behind, limping pitifully, and you watch as Peeta takes in a deep breath and runs back, reaching down and scooping up one arm of Rue, hoisting her up. You manage to steel yourself in place until they can catch up, scooping up her other arm and resuming your sprint with them in tow.

You didn’t realise where you were running at first, just following along. But the cornucopia shines brightly in the sun, glimmering and almost blinding you as you run directly for it. You all practically slam against it, and you and Peeta work at throwing Rue as far up as you can, holding her feet as she scrambles to the top. Peeta, once no longer able to reach her, turns quickly to look behind you with panic. He laces his hands and yells, “Jump!” You have no time to react, just using his hands as a step, he hoists you up as well. You scramble, slip, and as much as Rue tries to help she really has no strength behind it.

The moment you’re secure in the fact that you won’t fall, you immediately spin around and reach a hand down. Peeta takes a running leap and takes hold of you, and you try to pull him as his feet catch on the slippery gold- streaked with blood. You grunt, watching the dogs race up and begin lunging, clawing, trying with all of their mutated power to reach him. He cries out as a few claws catch his shins, then throws his other hand out. Katniss is next to you, you don’t know when she got there but she did, and she took hold of his other hand with both of hers. With your combined power, you managed to pull him up.

You breathe.

You finally breathe, and the mutts are scrambling at the bottom of the cornucopia but there’s nothing they can do, they can’t get up here. Rue is panting and crying and burying her face into Peeta’s jacket. He pets her hair as he stares directly at you, and you let your eyes roam to the last person. Katniss, now standing, stares down at the mutts. She still has one arrow left, the one that had just been aimed at you. You all left the weapons behind, just a dagger in your pocket- one buried in your shoulder, still- that would be no help against these dog-like mutations. Katniss seems to come to the same conclusion, her eyes roaming the writhing mass of bodies beneath you.

You push yourself up enough to lean on your elbows, watching Rue finally stop crying and take deep breaths, peaking her head out to look between everyone. Even Peeta finally tears his gaze from you, raising it to the standing Katniss. She looks to the sky, her face void of emotion, then raises three fingers to her lips. She kisses them, then raises the salute into the air. You didn’t know what it was, or what it meant, but it seemed symbolic.

The next thing you know, she’s notching her final arrow once more- your own hand shoots to the dagger in your pocket. It may not be of any aid against those mutations, but you’d fight her to the death. You would kill her if it came to it. However, she doesn’t aim it toward you. She lifts the bow, aiming the bolt directly for the sun. She looses the arrow and you all watch as it soars through the air, upward. More, and more, until it’s just a blur, until it's a speck and you can’t see it anymore. And then the world pulses.

Not exactly the world, mind, but the sky definitely. From wherever that arrow was, you assume, it’s like a pulse-wave shoots outward. Once, but then again. As it pulses a third time, there are more waves, and once more before it stops looking like waves altogether. The sun blinks and flickers, and the middle of the sky seems to be caving in. The sky was falling, down around the four of you, large metal pieces and chunks that could kill you if it landed atop you. But they fall and fall and suddenly a different sort of light is pouring in through the holes. You weren’t sure how you believed the faulty imitation to be the real sun before when you see it now.

A shadow falls across your group as everyone begins to stand, and you feel a large hand slot into yours as Peeta takes hold of you with a firm grip. You look at him, unsure what is happening. This was the end, for sure. If this was the Capitol, you were all dead. But who else would it be? Some mystical saviour here to stop the Hunger Games once and for all? You remember joking about that with Peeta before, but the possibility was close to zero.

You hear the beats of what could only be helicopter blades, right as you hear harsh metal screeching fill the air. The mutts were being scared off, running and yipping back into the forest. But their absence reveals the source of the screeching; large metal pipes rising into the arena, evenly placed through the entire grounds as far as the eye could see. You watch as they begin to release a green-coloured gas into the air.

You turn quickly toward Peeta, the hand holding Peeta’s hand lifts and rests atop Rue’s head, your other hand reaching out for his cheek. This was it, whatever happens. You duck forward and kiss Peeta as if it’s your last. He pulls you in by the waist with his spare hand, and the last thing you feel before the blackness takes over is Peeta’s lips on yours.

You wipe the tears away as you take the final steps up the stairs, looking out of the small window on the door. You could see him. Peeta was sitting on the edge of the roof, looking over the side with a small smile on his face. Was Katniss right? Were you just hurting Peeta by loving him?

You pull the door open and step outside, the crunch of your feet on the gravel underfoot drawing Peeta’s attention to you. He sits up straight, smiling brightly over. “It’s early. I guess we both had the same idea?”

“I couldn’t wait,” You admit quietly, smiling shyly. You continue your approach, moving to sit across from him on the wall. “Although, I did run into somebody in the halls.” The shock and worry on Peeta’s face were reassuring as he sat forward quickly, easily taking your hands into his own. You weren’t expecting such quick affection, after trying to keep yourselves distant in the training halls.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” You tried to reassure, forcing a smile and idly rubbing his hands with your thumbs. “Nothing like that. I saw Katniss.” His face fell from worry to confusion, tilting his head slightly to the side like a puppy. He really was adorable. The lights from the Capitol lit up his hair in an array of colours, and his eyes were just that right shade of blue that reminded you of home. You didn’t stand a chance when it came to him.

“Katniss? What was she doing?”

“Following you, I think,” You whisper, biting your lip hesitantly. You look away, out toward the cityscape around you. You hadn’t taken in the sight since you arrived on the roof, too taken with the image of Peeta. The city was colourful and grand, and you could see yourself thinking it was beautiful if it didn’t run on the lives of children. “She threatened me though.” You felt his hands tighten around yours, tugging gently. You assumed he was trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your head turned.

“What?”

“She told me to stay away from you.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, and you sniff as you turn back to face him finally. From the look on his face, he could see the wetness reflected in your eyes. “At first she thought I was out to get you. And then, she said that just being with you like this, or meeting up in the arena, was just going to end up bad for you. That it’ll hurt you more than just me avoiding you.”

“That’s not true,” Peeta is quick to reassure, scooting closer and raising a hand to place on your cheek. “I know we haven’t had the proper time to talk yet, without everyone listening and watching. That’s why I asked you here, anyway. But I don’t think I could go into that arena without you. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without your humour and encouragement.”

“You don’t mean that Peeta,” You sigh out, letting the self-doubt take control. “We hardly know each other, and like you said, we’ve barely been able to actually speak our minds.”

“Well here’s my mind then,” Peeta whispers, leaning closer. “I didn’t know someone like you existed. Someone so sweet and hilarious, that you’d practice setting traps and accidentally spring one and still apologize. We laughed and you apologized still- even though we’re supposed to be doing this for real here soon. Even though he had been screaming and threatening you the entire time.” You chuckled lightly at the memory of Marvel being hoisted into the air, his face red with anger and blood. “You saw me picking the wrong herbs and berries, and instead of letting me off and rightly assuming I’d die in the arena to poison, you came over and taught me instead. I was enamoured with you from that point on.”

“I was sooner than that,” You admit quietly, a small smile playing on your lips. “You weren’t dressed as coal miners before the chariots went off. We locked eyes-”

“I remember that,” Peeta whispers quickly, his smile widening as he scoots even closer. Your knees were touching and his hand that had been resting on your cheek was now set on your hip. “I’d say I noticed you then, but all I really noticed was a long stalk of grain.” You bark out a surprised laugh, nodding.

“Our costumes are never very good.”

“I liked the wheat crown though.” He leans forward, and you see the sky in his eyes once more. “I liked yours better though. The one you wore when they called your name.” Your mind immediately flashes back to that day, wearing that itchy outfit and bashfully pulling the dead crown of stalks off of your head. Everyone keeps mentioning it like it’s so important.

“I learned to weave them from old friends back in Nine.”

“All I learned back in Twelve was how to bake bread and how to take a beating.” You look up quickly, eyes filled with worry and affection. You open your mouth to speak, but he shakes his head. “No, don’t. It’s fine. It only happened when I did something that we couldn’t afford, like give out bread to the hungry and dying.” You blow out the air from your mouth, pursing your lips.

“Things really are pretty tough in District Twelve, aren’t they?” Peeta only nods blandly, staring into your eyes. You continue, lowering your voice further. “But I guess it doesn’t matter then, does it?”

“Not for me anymore,” Peeta agrees, his head just barely nodding that you don’t think he even noticed. He sighs, a pained expression crossing his face. “Y/N… I don’t think we’re going to survive the games.”

“I don’t think so either,” You begin, but leave out the part that you’d sacrifice yourself for him in a heartbeat if it meant he survived. You had a feeling he felt the same.

“I don’t want them to change me.” You pull on Peeta’s hands as he whispers this, watching tears begin to fill his eyes. “I don’t want them to make me into something I’m not.”

“They won’t,” You try to reassure, adamant about it.

“You don’t know that-”

“I know that we can watch each other. Make sure neither of us changes.” You watch Peeta bite his lip, and you raise one of your hands to wipe the tears that begin to spill from his eyes. “We can die together, with love and hope in our hearts.” Peeta nods slightly, then coughs out a laugh. You tilt your head, wondering why.

“What if we survive, though? What if we’re the final two?” You blink a few times, watching the trepidation in his eyes.

“I think we both know-”

“You aren’t dying.”

“Neither are you.” You sigh, smiling softly. “As I was saying, I think we both know that neither of us are willing to kill each other. So I guess, whatever the game makers have in store.” You shrug, taking both of his hands in a firm grasp. “If we refuse to kill, they’ll send something out to kill us anyway.” Peeta looks shocked momentarily, as if this thought had never occurred to him. He thinks it over, then steels his expression with a smirk.

“We don’t need to go in there and just lay over and die, though.” You watch his resolution, his absolute faith in you. It fills you with inspiration. “We go in there and we try our damndest. If we watch each other’s back- actually, legitimately watch over each other and not just turn on each other later like the Careers or any other alliance- then I think we have a chance.” Your smile grows, and you can’t help yourself.

“Who knows? If we play up the romance enough, maybe they’ll let us both win.”

You were being pushed and prodded, forced toward the halls and through the doors that’ll eventually lead to you in the arena. You weren’t ready- of course, you didn’t think anyone was, but you haven’t seen Peeta since the training area. You hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye, to say you’ll meet up, to say-

You shook your head, dispelling the thought that he’d die immediately from your head. You’ll meet up. You’ll be on those platforms, and look around for him, and you’ll run together. You have to trust it, believe in it. You have to hope.

“Y/N!” You turn quickly, still being pushed toward a door opposite the sound of the voice. You were in a rather large room with a multitude of doors, about a quarter of the tributes being transferred to their positions. Peeta was being pushed toward his own door at the end of the hall, and he pulled his shoulder free from the soldier. They grab him again, but he yanks harder and begins to run toward you. You suck in a breath, not having to pull anyone’s hands off of you as you’d been listening before now, and take off running to meet him.

You crash together in the middle, Peeta wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. You could see his soldiers coming for him over his shoulder and were sure he was seeing the same of your own.

“What did Cato say?” Peeta’s voice was low and fast, and he raised one hand to place it on your cheek. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him in close for a hug so you can whisper into his ear.

“He wants Katniss. He hoped my alliance with you would extend to her, said to bring her to the cornucopia and he wouldn’t hurt me. I told him I’d do nothing without-” The soldiers were pulling, tugging on you both, but you held fast. “Without you too. He doesn’t believe that I care about you, just laughed.”

You both are pulled back enough that you can look into each other’s eyes, Peeta’s own calculating. You don’t hear him say anything in response to it, but you were sure you’d hear of it in the arena. You knew he wasn’t mad, but you could also tell he didn’t trust Cato. You didn’t either. There was an understanding between you, on this at least.

“I’ll see you in there-” He begins, before being cut off by the soldier’s shouts.

“Let’s go! Move it!”

“Meet me-!” You begin before you’re yanked roughly. You cry out as your shoulder flares in an abrupt but quick pain, and you watch Peeta’s eyes flash in anger. He gets away from his soldier just enough to push yours away from you, yelling out in anger. Two sets of hands find themselves on Peeta now, pulling his arms back and restraining him. You rush forward.

You didn’t know what you were doing until it happened. You placed both hands on his cheeks and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. They were soft and lovely and he moved his head as far forward as he could to kiss you back. Your first kiss- ever, not just with Peeta- and it was mind-blowing, amazing in a way you couldn’t describe. You tried to inch closer, push into the kiss more, before you were forcibly yanked back away from him.

“Peeta!” You call out, watching him kick and struggle as he’s dragged away by three soldiers, out through his door. The moment it closed behind him, you’d stopped struggling. The soldiers dragged you toward your own door, then through it to your own demise.

You gasp awake, the sterile smell of alcohol and disinfectants assaulting your senses. You’re surrounded by white- white bedsheets, white curtains surrounding your bed, white walls, white curved ceiling. Beeps and jingles fill the room at various points- one harsh beeping right next to your ear- but you can hear no voices or sounds of danger. Obviously, this looked like some kind of med bay. But why would you be in a med bay? Was this some new sick twist to the games?

One of your curtains is pulled open harshly, and a tall lady with her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun gasps loudly in surprise. Her eyes widen as she looks you in the eyes before quickly swiping the curtain back closed with a loud metal ‘zing!’ You open your mouth to call out to her, to ask where you are, but you can’t get your voice to work.

You begin to panic, pushing harder and it hurts, until finally you hear a raspy breath and the slight sound of your voice through your panic. Memories flash backwards through time until you can clearly see Thresh atop you, holding you down by the neck. Your neck must’ve gotten worse after you fell unconscious. You try your best to sit up, pain shooting through your shoulder and up your back. As the bedsheet falls, you see your chest wrapped up in those very spots- no blood showing, but as tight as can be. You feel something crinkle on your neck and reach up, gently feeling some soft cloth laid across your neck. You could tell there was ointment there, the cloth just there to keep it covered.

You gently lean back against your pillows, looking down at the tubes running into your arm and electrodes placed in various places of your body. You glance at the machine next to you, the loud beeping one, and try to study the different graphs, lines, and bars. You couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Zing, the curtain slides again, and you look up quickly. There’s another man there, one you don’t recognize with blond hair that falls to his shoulders, and an older complexion with grey, unsettling eyes. He wore rugged clothes, with a beanie pulled over his hair, that gave him an air of unprofessionalism- he couldn’t be the doctor here. He stares at you hard for a moment before stepping in, closing the curtain behind him and finally taking an unsolicited seat on your bed beside your legs.

You open your mouth to speak again but think better of it and close it once more. You hear the man chuckle, crossing his arms. You begin to look around frantically, looking for anything that might indicate what you’re wanting to say. You pat the bed, reach to the bedside and slide open all of the drawers, and just as you’re beginning to check under the pillows, the man reaches a hand out and tries to calm you down.

“Okay, okay. Okay!” He takes both hands and forcefully sets them down in your lap. He gives you a hard look, patting your hands before leaning back again. He’s quiet for another moment, and it is getting to the point that you’re about to start looking for a pen and paper once more when he finally speaks up again. “I assume you want to ask after Peeta.”

Your eyes widen, nodding quickly and without thinking, wincing from the pain in your neck. You lean forward, eager to hear. “He’s fine. He’s asleep- well, unconscious right now.” You tilt your head and can feel your face expressing your worry. “That green gas that was emitted at the end of the games was a knock-out gas, the Capitol was trying to keep us from saving you. Honestly, it just helped our escape, we were able to scoop all of you up without a fight.

“Peeta was the first to wake up from the gas, while we were getting everyone situated in their beds at the medbay. He was struggling like no other, trying to find his way to you. Shouting your name over and over, calling us all Capitol pigs- he wouldn’t listen, no matter what they said.” He hesitates, looking you over before adding on, “We’re not the Capitol by the way.” You furrow your brow, wanting to ask what this was- what they were- but he continues on anyway. “They had to pull me from the war council to come in and calm him down.” Your face furrows even more, falling backwards against your pillow with another wince. ‘Why would this man calm Peeta down…?’

“He saw me-” His eyes had been roaming, as well as his hands, while he spoke, but he gives you a side-eye now. “Oh, right. Haymitch, by the way. The only District Twelve victor.” He holds his hand out to shake, but you take too long as he withdraws it back anyway. “Peeta saw me and calmed down enough for me to tell him that you’re all safe. You all are, by the way. We made it in time to save all four of you. Katniss was our main target, but we’d been watching the games. She wouldn’t leave without Peeta, and Peeta wouldn’t leave without you.” He shrugs, and you take a deep breath. ‘Of course, this is about Katniss. Who else would this be about.’ “Rue is also safe. Everyone was glad of that, of course. We had a chance to save one of the youngest kids to go into the arena, and we took it.” He blows out a breath, and you begin to wonder if this strength was a facade, as you see a small crack in it when he speaks of Rue.

“Anyway, he kept struggling, even against me. ‘Kept saying he needed to see you, to see you were safe and unharmed and make sure-” He stops, sighing heavily. “They injected him with something to knock him out while they dressed his wounds, but he’s fine.” He studies your tense posture, coming to some kind of conclusion in his head. “I’ll let you see him. Here-” He reaches forward, ready to begin pulling the tube from your arm as the curtain swings open once more.

“Haymitch-” The voice is startled, but falls quickly to stern, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Someone had to reassure this one. You saw how Peeta got.” You make a noise, mostly like a whine, but both sets of eyes turn toward you. The new person was wearing a long white coat like a doctor- you assumed that’s what they were. You nod quickly, turning back to Haymitch with wide eyes. He turns to the doctor with a smirk. “They want to see him.”

“Well, they can’t get out of bed. They’re injured, they need-”

“What they need,” Haymitch growls out, pulling the tube from your arm as you wince, and you watch his face as he begins to pull the electrodes from the different places on your body, “Is to see the man they spent close to a week protecting and healing and defending.” Haymitch glares over his shoulder, but his face falls to a kindness you hadn’t thought you’d see from him when he looks back at you. “You’ve already wrapped them up, and the rest are superficial injuries. Let them go see their friends.”

The moment all the wires were taken off, you swung your feet to the side and began to stand. You feel slightly wobbly, so you go slow, not wanting to give the doctor any other reason to argue. You can already hear whispered complaints from the doctor to Haymitch, but you ignore them both in favour of pushing the curtains aside. The room was small, filled with similar cubicles of white. You limp over to the closest, gently pulling the curtain back to peak inside. You recognize her instantly from the bushy hair lying across the pillows- a sleeping and peaceful-looking Rue lays in this bed. She was so small that the bed dwarfed her in comparison, but seeing her alive and well was enough to make your knees weak. You walk inside just enough to press a kiss to her forehead before backing out once more.

You glance over, seeing Haymitch’s stare on you as you move across the room slowly. You glance between the left and right cubicles, turning to glance at Haymitch once more. He says something to the doctor without looking at them but nods his head to the left subtly. You take this and run with it, approaching the curtains on the left. Gently, you pull back to peek.

You couldn’t explain the feeling of relief that hit you when you saw Peeta’s face lying gently on the bed. His hair just slightly fanned out around him like a blond halo, his eyes peacefully pressed closed without pressure. He looked soft, approachable- he looked like you needed to defend him, in all honesty, but you were just hoping that Haymitch’s presence meant you wouldn’t have the need to. You walk in, pulling the curtain closed behind you as quietly as you can. Similar to Haymitch earlier, you walk forward and take a seat by his legs.

You’re hesitant at first, but slowly you build up the courage to reach forward and slot one hand in Peeta’s closest one. He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the pressure of his hand grow tighter on yours, like unconsciously he wanted to hold your hand back. You realize you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself not to. You survived, you both did, after being so sure that neither of you would. It’s a miracle, honestly, and you didn’t want to risk taking your eyes off of him for even a moment.

You’re unsure how much time has passed before Peeta’s face begins to scrunch up. You tilt your head, leaning closer and reaching slowly out to place your hand on his cheek. Before you make it, his head begins to toss and turn back and forth, and little grumbles fall from his mouth. He slowly gets more and more violent with his tossing, and you finally realize he’s having a nightmare. You reach forward, placing your hand on his cheek to stabilise him and open your mouth to speak kind words when nothing would come out. Frustrated, you take your other hand from his and place it on his other cheek, holding him still.

His eyes burst open and his hands reach up, scrambling to pull you off of him before finally meeting your eyes and slowly relaxing. “Y/N?” He asks gently, eyes wide with fear and hope. You nod, smiling, and lean forward to place a gentle peck against his lips. As you pull away he chases, and you giggle softly before wincing from the pain of it. His eyes flicker down to the wrapping on your neck, then back up to your face. He’s holding both of your wrists with his hands, holding them against his cheeks. He leans into one of your hands, gently rubbing his cheek against it. “Don’t try to talk, I don’t want you to hurt on my account.”

You just shake your head fondly in response, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. His smile grows, and he begins to match your look of disbelief. “We made it, Y/N.” You nod, leaning forward, and he laughs out in relief. “Holy shit, Y/N, we made it. We’re both alive. We’re out!” He finally releases his hold on you to grab your face, dragging you closer. Your foreheads press together, matching smiles of relief and contentment between the two of you. “We made it out together.”

This was it. The hope you’d held wasn’t all for nothing. You were finally here, in each other’s hands, alive and breathing and- well, injured, but alive. You were saved from the Capitol by someone, or something. You wouldn’t be forced back into the arena, you wouldn’t be paraded in front of the Capitol and Districts as ‘Victors,’ you wouldn’t have to face the inevitability of your death at the hands of the one you loved.

Of course, the world wasn’t perfect. You were sure the Capitol would never stop hunting you down. You were sure you’d never see your family again if they even survived after your escape. You’d never be able to go back home, show Peeta the rich blue of the skies that mirrors his eyes, or visit his District. And- your mind hesitates and repeats the arena, over and over, like a flipbook. You still made a promise to yourself that you’d kill Katniss. Would you still have to, now that you’re out of the arena? If they had only wanted Katniss, but Katniss wanted Peeta- obviously she didn’t want you to come along. Would these people relent and get rid of you if she said so?

Peeta rubbed your cheeks, and your eyes reopened- you couldn’t remember when they had fallen shut. His smile is gentle as he whispers, “You back with me?” You nod gently, not wanting to displace his hands. He sighs in relief, reaching forward to gently peck your lips. “There’s nothing and no one that’ll keep us apart, now.” He pulls you in for a deeper kiss, and you let yourself fall into it. You climb fully on the bed, unwilling to part from him and wanting the comfort that only he could provide.

He was right, of course. But hearing his voice, so soft and gentle and sure, made that tingling and anxious feeling in your chest finally settle. His voice is as soft as you’d ever heard it as he whispers, “We’re finally safe now.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark #gender neutral reader #tribute reader #the hunger games #fanfiction #also posted on archive of our own #ever in our favour #in the arena #fighting scene #finale #violence #descriptions of blood #descriptions of injuries

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buckysgrace · 5 months

Text

7. I Keep Looking

Gator Tillman x Oc

Part 7 of Every Little Thing!

Wow I am uh gutted after the last episode lmao

CW: Cheating, p in v smut

It had been a week since she’d last seen or heard from Gator. The silence was crushing, but she supposed it was what she deserved. She had lied to him, but she felt it was fair considering what he’d said to her. She thought she would’ve eventually gained the courage to tell him again, once she had a few weeks to mend her broken heart and have thousands of miles between the two of them.

In some odd sense, it felt freeing to admit to someone else what had happened. No one else knew, at least, no one was supposed to. She definitely hadn’t planned on Gator snooping through her files from her doctor’s office.

“What’s on your mind?” Hugh questioned as she pressed her palm over her abdomen. She blinked for a second, trying to ignore the empty feeling that had suddenly settled over her. She shook away her thoughts, burying her grief once again.

“Nothing,” She breathed out softly, “Just a little stressed.” She smiled softly at him, snapping her attention back towards the party that was carrying on around them. The sun was warm, almost too hot as it sat high in the pretty blue sky.

Hugh looked nice, almost too pristine in his black slacks and his white, long sleeved shirt. She’d warned him that it would get too hot, but he still insisted. He had a pink rose buttoned onto it, matching the ones that decorated her white flowery dress.

“Your father has invited many people.” Hugh said slowly as he swirled his cup of water around in his hand. She nodded her head, thinking that he was very right as she turned to look up at him.

“He is well known,” Daphne teased in agreement, “It’s mostly relatives. And you remember my friend Daisy. It won’t be too bad.” She said, tilting her chin up as she balanced on her heels to try and pinpoint where Daisy had disappeared to. Daisy had always wanted to make her break from the town, but had fallen short like everybody else. She thought that Daphne was crazy for returning.

“I don’t know,” Hugh replied softly, “I’ll be married surrounded by people I do not know.” He said at last, expressing his feelings over the whole ordeal. She paused for a moment, unsure of how to approach the touchy subject about his family once again.

“You’ll get to know them,” She reassured him softly, “Come on. We can do introductions and then we can dance.” She smiled as she took his hand gently, knowing that he didn’t like to hold her hand for too long. He always said it was because his palms were sweaty, but she often wondered if there was another reason for it.

Around and around they went, slowly introducing Hugh to everyone who had attended. He was right, there were many people. Even some that she hadn’t seen in a long time. She knew better than to complain. Bruce was paying for it and at this point, this was as much his wedding as it was hers.

She retreated after she ditched Hugh off to Oliver, her cheeks tired from the tight grin she’d been wearing all afternoon. She had a thing later of sweat against the back of her neck from the sun that was beginning to beam down around them. She hoped she’d put on enough sunscreen.

She brought a cold can of Coke up to her lips, enjoying the way it bubbled and tickled at her throat as she gulped it down heavily. She felt as if she was a few seconds away from gulping down the entire snack table from the nerves that were beginning to grow inside of her.

“You look good, mama.” She turned quickly, her eyes widening as a drizzle of pop spilled down the side of her lips. She wiped it away quickly, licking her mouth clean as she looked up at Gator.

Her heart thumped roughly inside of her chest, beating to a rhythm that only he knew as she tried to find the words to say. He looked good, handsome. His hair slicked back in the usual way, a slight grin on his face as he squinted down towards her. She wondered if he’d started wearing contacts again or if he was just neglecting to do so.

“You came.” She stated softly, mentally kicking herself for how hopeful she had sounded. She glanced away, trying to pretend like she hadn’t been hoping to see him again. She had feared that she’d ruined it all, that he hated her. Not that she could really blame him. She had kept a heinous secret from him.

“I figured the invitation was for me too,” Gator tilted his head as he looked upon her, “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be here?” She let her eyes linger on him for a moment, noting the nice pair of jeans he wore as well as the blue button up shirt. He left the top two buttons undone, exposing his chest hair.

“No,” She shook her head softly, “I’m glad that you’re here.” She said at last, truly grateful because this meant that he didn’t completely hate her. She faltered underneath his gaze for a moment, feeling cautious as she brought her fingers up to her lips. She rolled her tongue over her lipstick, no longer feeling the scab that had faded away.

“Dance with me.” He said simply, not asking as her eyes snapped towards him again. Her mouth suddenly felt too dry, as if she’d swallowed hundreds of cotton balls.

“Gator,” She sighed deeply, “I can’t.” She mumbled, keeping her voice down as someone walked past them. She noticed the slow walk, the curious eyes as they were surely trying to pick some sort of gossip up. She wouldn’t allow that. Not today.

“Why not?” He asked her seriously, his lips curling into an amused smile. She parted her lips, feeling like he was making this harder than what it needed to be.

“Someone may get the wrong idea.” She replied softly as she pulled her arms over her chest, crossing them tightly to keep her hands to herself. She felt like she didn't have much restraint when it came to him.

“We went to all of our school dances together,” He pointed out, “What’s different about this?” He asked her seriously. She shook her head, her lips curling up into a smile ever so slightly.

“I’m marrying someone else.” She reminded him gently, feeling like this whole thing was ridiculous. In the back of her mind she knew that Gator should be the one she was marrying. They just wanted different things.

“We’re just two friends dancing,” Gator drew out slowly, “Unless there’s something else?” He asked her with mock interest, tilting his head down as his eyes fell onto her features. She turned towards him, suddenly feeling a little shy. She wouldn’t bring up feelings again, not after last time.

“No,” She replied, “There’s nothing else.” She stated slowly, locking her eyes in on his brown ones to challenge him. She waited for him to reply, to beg her to leave Hugh and whisk her away. Her heart hammered roughly in her chest as he looked down at her lips. She wondered if he could see how desperate she was for him to say those words; to want to be with her.

“Then what’s the problem with dancing?” He asked her huskily, taking a small step back to pull the vape up to his lips. She huffed, shaking her head as he blew the smoke out towards her. She scoffed, but had to admit that it smelt better than the cheap cigarettes he used to smuggle into her room.

“Nothing,” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to keep as nonchalant as possible. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle her body so close to his, “Just as long as you won’t step on my toes.” She grinned as she stepped off the porch, settling onto the makeshift dance floor that Bruce and August had settled out for them.

“I don’t do that anymore,” He mumbled, almost a little pouty as he followed behind her, inside of the barn that they no longer used. They’d spruced it up pretty nicely, but it would still need work before the wedding. The sun dipped in through the large windows, decorating the floor, “That was a long time ago.” He told her, as if she needed to be reminded of it. She’d spent his Junior prom barefoot, her feet on top of his shoes to keep from getting her toes smashed and bruised.

His Senior prom hadn’t been much better. She’d had braces then and had spent most of the night spitting out mouthfuls of blood from where he’d accidentally popped her in the mouth after he’d been trying to tighten his tie. Still, she had been the only one in her grade to go to prom all four years. She had a different dress each time as well. She supposed she was just a smidge spoiled.

She just smiled in response, trying to ignore the ache in her chest as he placed a hand on her hip and pressed his palm against her own. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of his cologne as his eyes fell down to her face again. She glanced around, noting that Hugh was swinging around a very unamused Noelle not too far away.

It felt natural the way she moved with Gator, the way her skin molded against his. She felt warm, but it had nothing to do with the way the sun was shining on them. She looked anywhere but at him, afraid that he’d be able to read her thoughts with a simple glance.

“You know what I think?” He asked as he pressed his fingertips lightly into her skin, drawing her attention back to him. She drew her eyes up slowly, focusing in on the moles on his cheeks instead of his warm eyes.

“What?” She asked softly as an intense sensation spread through her chest. She wanted to look up at him fully, but she wouldn’t allow herself too. She wondered if everyone else could see just how pathetic she was at the moment, if they could see just how desperate she was for him.

“I don’t think that you really like this guy,” He murmured in her ear, letting one of his hands slide lower and lower down her back. She gasped softly at the sensation, her eyes widening as she stared up at him this time, “I think you’re just trying to prove a point.” He replied huskily as he pulled his hand away from hers and began to trace it up her arm. She felt a thin line of fire spreading from where he’d touched.

“Gator,” She warned him as his palm brushed across the side of her breast, “You’re going to get us caught.” She told him quickly, pulling both of his hands back to an appropriate place on her hips. She held onto his hands for just a second before she put her arms over his shoulders.

“Don’t you want to know what the point is?” He asked, looking a little cocky as he bent a little further. She traced her eyes over his features, feeling like he already knew the answer to that. He was teasing her, toying with her emotions. She straightened herself out a little bit, trying to ignore the way his hands were drifting lower and lower.

“Alright,” She said softly as she drew her eyes up towards him again, “Since you clearly know me better than I know myself, what sort of point am I trying to make?” She asked him, flicking her head just a bit to get her bangs from her face. His lips curled up into a smirk.

“I think you’re trying to make me jealous.” He whispered lowly, his head tilted in her direction as he spoke. Her eyes fell to his lips, feeling drawn in by the way they moved as the words rolled off of his tongue. They were such a soft pink, like the inside of a flower.

“Oh, am I?” She questioned him, drawing her eyes back up to his gaze. It was hot and heavy, entirely too intense as her heart continued to thump roughly against her ribs. She was sure he could hear it if he listened close enough. She hadn’t gotten with Hugh for any of those reasons. When she’d met him, she was sure that she’d never see Gator again. Desperation had brought her back. That was all.

“Mhm,” He said softly, nodding his head as the next song began to play. It was slower, a little too sensual as the sun began to dip underneath the hill. The rays caught against his skin, lighting him up in a warm glow, “I think you just want to catch my attention so I’ll ruin your little wedding.” He mumbled as his fingertips pressed lightly into her hips.

“Huh,” She drew out slowly, turning away from his gaze to ensure that they weren’t being too conspicuous, “That’s a fun little theory, but I wouldn’t like the scandal. You should know that if you’re so smart.” She pointed out, trying to keep herself from playing with the collar of his shirt. He pulled her a little closer, just enough for their clothes to brush against one another.

“You already started a scandal by marrying someone else,” He mumbled underneath his breath, his gaze hot and heavy, “I think you like the attention.” He spat back, challenging her as his hands wandered a little lower. She felt a shiver racing up her spine.

“I think you’re full of it.” She told him in response, but made no effort to stop his movements. She waited, almost hoping that he would do something rash. She wanted to know if he really would make an effort to stop the wedding.

“I guarantee that you’re only with that guy to try and upset me.” He said again, rocking his hips forward just a bit. She felt her breath hitch for a moment as she pressed her fingertips roughly into the material of his shirt. It felt nice against her skin.

“I guarantee ,” She drew out slowly, “That you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.” She told him seriously, wondering if he was just trying to make her cause a scene. She wouldn’t. If there was something to admit, he’d have to be the one to do so.

“Is it working?” He asked as amusement spread over his features. She had a strong urge to move her hand so she could touch his skin, but resisted. She chewed on her bottom lip, hiding her own smile as she shrugged her shoulders.

He swayed her back and forth, dancing with her for far too long as other people passed their partners back and forth. She blinked softly, thinking that maybe in a different life this could’ve been their engagement party.

“It’s getting hot out here,” He mumbled as his fingertip rubbed softly over the trail down to her ass. She watched him, slowly nodding her head in agreement, “Some iced tea might be nice.” He suggested slyly. She felt her heart racing, clearly knowing there was a pitcher on one of the tables for that exact reason.

“I can make you some in the house,” She replied instead, her heart hammering as she pulled away slowly, “With lots of sugar.” She played it off, trying to act like she was doing it for his benefit. She had no desire to make him anything.

“Sounds nice.” He agreed, watching the way she finally dropped her hands from his shoulders. She turned slowly, exhaling deeply as she pulled her hands to her stomach. She played with her fingers, hoping that Gator was keeping a safe enough distance that it wasn’t suspicious.

She felt a little safer once they passed through the crowd, back up to the porch where no one was lingering. She took one last glance around, grinning as Gator stepped in front of her to slide the door open.

She paused, her heels tapping against the floor as she walked through the dining room. She peaked in the kitchen, in the living room and up the stairs to ensure that no one was lingering in the house. By the time she turned to face him, he was on her.

His large hands cupped her soft face, squeezing as his lips brushed against hers roughly. She craved the taste of him, the feeling of his hot mouth against her own. She brought her arm across his shoulders, pulling him closer as his tongue brushed against her bottom lip.

“Someone will see,” She mumbled as he continually pressed his lips against hers, snapping out of her little haze as she became more aware of the large glass windows. She dragged her mouth against his just a messily, kissing him harshly as he pressed her against the counter, “Not in here.” She begged him softly, ashamed at how she couldn’t find it in herself to push him away.

His lips curled into a lazy smirk as he gripped her waist, pushing her towards the dingy laundry room. She giggled, trusting him as she messily walked backwards and blindly searched for the light that would expose his features to her once again. She didn’t want to do it in the dark. She wanted to see him.

She messily unbuttoned his shirt, struggling at the frantic way their lips were dragging against one another’s. It was sloppy, messy as his tongue flicked against her own. She tugged it off just enough to let it hang limply at his sides.

She breathed out, admiring his soft muscles as she pressed her fingertips against his shoulders. She touched his freckled skin, her eyes dancing across his pretty moles before pressing her fingers against his puffy nipples. She brushed her nails through the hair on his chest next. She slowly dragged one finger down the trail, dipping down across his belly button and his lower abdomen before she stopped at his pants.

He pushed her back against the washer machine, hiding them away behind the door as she flicked her tongue across his lips this time. She gasped as his large hands squeezed at her boobs, lightly kneading them together before his hands moved further down.

He pushed her dress up over her hips, groaning softly as he took in the lacey thong she was wearing. She felt her cheeks heat up, flushing at the cocky look that grew in his warm eyes. She pursed her lips together, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the loops of his belt.

“Who's the needy one now?”

“Just wanna feel good,” She whispered softly, fully aware of the desperation that was etched across her features, “I want you to make me feel good.” She whispered a second later, feeling full of lust as she tugged his body closer to her.

He paused, his mouth dangerously close to hers as he examined her for just a quick second. His eyes lingered against hers, like he was trying to tell if she meant her words or not. She tilted her head up towards him, fluttering her eyelashes in hopes that he’d be able to tell just how serious she was.

She kissed him first this time, her lips dragging against his sweetly as she tasted the sweet watermelon on his lips. She brought one arm around his shoulder, resting it lazily as she tilted her face up closer to his. His fingers lightly draped across her hips, just barely dipping against the material of her panties before he pressed one large hand against the back of her thigh and placed it over his hip.

She could hear her heart pounding in her chest as he used his other hand to free himself, his cock hard and glistening as he slowly pumped the length of his dick up and down. She watched, her eyes burning into his skin as she thought of how long and thick he was. It’d been so long. She wondered if it would hurt.

“Gator,” She breathed out softly, her nose brushing against his as she turned her gaze up towards him again, “I haven’t-,” She stopped herself, unsure if she should clarify what she was going to say. She didn’t want him to think that she would forever be waiting for him, that she was pathetic. Even if she was.

“S’alright,” He spoke softly as his pink lips curled up into a gentle smile, “I’ll go slow.” He promised, his gaze intense as he held onto her eye contact. She swallowed roughly, wondering if he could feel just how hard her heart was thumping inside of her chest.

He pressed her thong to the side slowly, exposing her pink clit and folds as he slowly dragged the tip of his cock across her wet pussy. She inhaled deeply, her lips parting as she admired the way his eyebrows were slowly beginning to knit together. He was handsome, pretty even.

She wrapped one hand around his bicep, the other digging into his shoulder as he languidly stuffed his cock inside of her tight walls. She exhaled, her lungs empty as his thick cock stretched her walls out. She turned her gaze away from him, looking down at where their bodies met as she watched him slowly disappear inside of her.

It burned and was slightly uncomfortable as she felt herself clinging to him. It wasn’t as unbearable as their first time, but just enough to make her press a hand against his hips to stall his movements for just a quick second so she could fill her lungs again.

“You alright?” Gator asked hoarsely, his features tight with pleasure as he pushed her hair from her eyes. She felt like her tongue was two sizes too big, as she suddenly couldn’t form any words as she willed herself to adjust around him. She nodded her head, trying to focus on the pleasure rather than the slight pain.

He brought his lips down against the crook of her right neck, licking at the mole that was delicately placed there before he dragged his lips up slowly. She shivered underneath his touch, her thighs jerking as he nibbled across the sensitive area on her skin. He licked at her skin slowly, before bringing his lips back to the same spot.

She exhaled, feeling the pleasure beginning to coil inside of her stomach as he pressed the remainder of his thick cock inside of her warm cunt. He dragged his fingertips forward, dancing them across her clit in a teasing manner as a soft moan left her lips.

“Gator,” She crooned, feeling like she had jolts of pleasure that were trickling through her veins. It spread through her body. To the top of her head and down to the bottom of her toes. Everything suddenly felt too good, too warm as her cunt clenched down around his cock, “More. S’alright. I want more.” She begged earnestly, rolling her hips forward to make a point.

She cried out softly at her own movements, gasping as her clit brushed against his soft hairs. He pressed his forehead against her own, his breath warm as he dug his fingertips into her soft thigh. He groaned as he slowly pulled his hips back and then pressed his cock deeper inside of her velvety walls.

“Christ,” He spit out, his eyes looking at her lustfully as he slowly rocked himself backwards and then shoved his cock in deeper inside of her. Her head fell back with the movements, gasping at the feeling of being stretched around him. The burn was pleasurable this time, leaving her with a dire need for more. She gasped as she held onto him, wondering how she’d gone three long years without feeling him like this, “This feel good?”

“Yeah,” She cried out softly, pulling him closer as the edge of the washer began to dig into her back. She didn’t care; didn’t even care if he left marks on her. All she could focus on was him, all of him, “Feels so good.” She reassured him, tilting her mouth up towards him.

He groaned softly, his warm breath tickling against her features as he did so. She whined at the feeling of his hard cock curving up into her, dangerously close to the spot that made her see stars. His lips curled up just so softly, like he already knew what he was doing. Their bodies molded into one, like they were falling back into place after being split apart.

She brought her lips against his again, stealing the groan that was forming on his lips. She swallowed it, flicking her tongue against his in a messy way as he squeezed tightly at her thigh. She wondered if he’d leave bruises on her, if she’d have to cover them up. The excitement of possibly having to do so was almost too much for her to handle.

Her pussy squeezed around his cock, coating him in her slick as she squelched around him. The sound of their muffled moans bounced around in the laundry room, hidden away by the loud sound of the laundry machines at work.

He roughly moved a hand up to the top of her dress, forcing it down enough to free her tits from her top. Her boobs bounced with his rough movements, getting slightly wet from the spit trail that fell from their messy kiss. She moaned at the feeling, enjoying how his fingers spread the spit across her hardening buds.

She got lost in their kiss, lost in the feeling of his cock brushing against the spot that left her whining and whimpering. Her body shook, desperately willing for him to be closer to her. She parted her lips, rolling her tongue against his once again as a loud moan formed in her chest.

“Daphne?” Hugh’s voice rang out from the kitchen, dangerously close as Gator placed open mouthed kisses against the side of her mouth. She felt her eyes widen, her pulse quicken as she was sure they’d be caught.

Gator moved his large palm over her mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure or protest as he continued to rut his cock deep inside of her. She felt her eyes fluttering as she fought to keep them from rolling back in her head; fought to keep her legs from collapsing in pleasure.

“What do you think your little boyfriend would think?” Gator whispered harshly in her ear, his breath warm and hot against her earlobe as her cunt dripped along his heavy cock. She turned her eyes towards him, her eyebrows knitted together from the pleasure that was vibrating against her clit, “Does he know you’re my little whore? That you belong to me?”

She shook her head, feeling like there was drool falling from her lips as she looked towards him desperately. She didn’t want him to stop, not even if it meant Hugh finding out about them. For some reason it only spurred her on, made her dig her heel a little deeper into his hip.

“Are you in here?” Hugh’s voice rang out again, the sound of his shoes tapping against the floor ringing into the laundry room as he walked around the kitchen. It took everything in her to keep from crying out as the tip of Gator’s cock pressed against her g-spot, nearly rocking her over the edge right there, “Your mom wanted more pictures!” He yelled a little louder, a sense of amusement in his tone.

“You wanna go out like this?” Gator teased her as he circled a finger around her hardened nipple, before pinching it softly. She whimpered against his palm, her body twitching in anticipation as she did her best to warn him with her eyes. She wouldn’t be able to keep herself quiet if he kept teasing her.

She mumbled a soft no against his skin, whining softly as the pleasure continued to build and twist in her stomach. She desperately pulled him closer, her nails digging into his skin as his breath continued to fan over her face.

Gator let out a soft groan, his sweaty forehead brushing against hers as he pressed his body closer against hers. She licked at his palm, teasingly moving her tongue around as she enjoyed the way he rocked his cock inside of her. She savored every inch, each vein and curve of his cock as her pussy clamped down around his thick girth. The sounds of their skin meeting, their bodies molding into one rang quietly in the room as the sound of the door to the kitchen slowly slid open then shut again.

“Is he gone?” She whispered out harshly, her voice breaking in pleasure as she tried to keep her eyes focused on him. She tried to memorize the way his features twisted in pleasure, how his neck tightened as sounds of pleasure left his lips.

“I think so,” Gator groaned as his lips fell open against her mouth, “Jesus. You feel so good.” He spoke against her lips, barely sealing their mouths together as his cock continually hit against her bundle of nerves. She cried out, her body clamping down around him to keep them in sync.

“Mhm, I’m so close,” She breathed out harshly, her mind fuzzy with the pleasure that was racing up her spine, “You make me feel so good.” She whined softly, wishing that this feeling would never end.

He grumbled underneath his breath in response, whispering something so low that she couldn’t even make out what it was. She felt her body shivering in response, the pleasure becoming overbearing as she felt her stomach muscles clenching tightly together in awe.

“Gator,” She whined, her toes curling tightly in her heels as she dug her fingertips into his skin, “Oh God.” She gasped loudly as the bridge inside of her collapsed, throwing her pleasure over the edge as she came with a cry. She wiggled against him, her eyes filling with stars as he brought her as close to heaven as they could manage.

“Fuck, Jesus, fuck.” Gator spit out harshly, sounding just as desperate for his release as his nose brushed against her warm cheek. She licked at her lips, trying to keep from being too loud as her cunt ached around his throbbing cock.

He filled her, his hips pressing deep against her as his head fell into the crook of her neck. He groaned loudly, clawing at her thighs as he emptied his cock inside of her cunt. She whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut as his warm spunk coated her walls. She wiggled her hips, her clit throbbing from the sensation.

She clawed at him just as desperately, not wanting to miss one second of his flesh against her own. She could feel his heart throbbing against his skin, beating in the same rough rhythm as her own. He sighed against her neck, leaving behind a small dribble of spit as he rose to face her again.

She stared up in awe at the way his eyebrows had relaxed, the smooth lines on his features and how home like his eyes suddenly felt. She liked staring at them; enjoyed how they seemed to be a mess of different colors. They were a warm brown, but sometimes they seemed to have a vast amount of green mingled in them. Sometimes they seemed to be golden.

She took in his flushed skin before her gaze fell to his cupid's bow lips. She brought her fingertips up delicately, touching them as if to confirm that he was real. She watched the way they moved against her skin, and she enjoyed how soft and wet they felt against her.

She moved her hands up to his hair next, slicking the messy strands back into their usual position. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, like he was waiting too. She wished she had the strength to push him off, to tell him this would never happen again.

Instead she brushed her nose against his again, enjoying the rough way he was still breathing as her eyes fell shut. She fell into her own little fantasy for a moment, imagining that this wasn’t wrong. She imagined that Gator was hers and that everything was okay.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman smut #Gator Tillman x oc #Gator Tillman x Fem!oc #Gator x Daphne #Every Little Thing #Fargo #gator tillman fic

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bingoboingobongo · 2 years

Text

complex simplicity pt. ii

Pairing: Adrian Chase (Peacemaker) x Reader

Type: Fluff, angst

Summary: The team finally sets out on their mission, and Adrian deals with the events of last night

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), angst, bodily injury, blood, descriptions of violence, previous trauma, character death

A/N: hiii, welp. it's finally done. after ten trillion years of constant dread, over three rewrites, and chronic procrastination, she's finally here. my longest fic ever (i think). i hope you like it, i have no idea if there's still an Adrian Chase fandom, but to everyone that has stayed throughout my unofficial hiatus, thank you. as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated, again thank you so much. please enjoy :)

Masterlist

part one

Adrian very rarely felt happy. Although perhaps that was an overstatement. A better way to phrase it, Adrian supposed, was that he very rarely felt the way he felt now: elated; ecstatic; euphoric; like his heart was about to burst out of his chest spewing nothing but love and joy and jubilee all over the room in some passionate, exuberant, macabre scene.

In fact, he wasn’t sure he had ever felt this way. The entire ordeal was entirely unique, Adrian realized. For one, there was nobody else in the entire galaxy that could ever compare to the woman nestled into his chest, with her small frown and pursed eyebrows even as she slept. And secondly, there was nobody else in the entire galaxy that Adrian would ever want so desperately.

There was no doubt in Adrian’s mind when he realized that nobody — not even Chris, who he admired with his whole being — could ever make him feel as exhilarated as she did. She was, in all ways, one of a kind.

When Adrian woke there was no longer the comforting weight of the coworker he had spent months pining over on his chest, and for a moment he feared the worst. Could the whole thing have been a dream? A cruel concoction created by his brain meant to torment and him? It wouldn’t have been the first time he dreamt about her, and he didn’t doubt that it wouldn’t be the last.

But when he got up, his heart beating out of his chest — for all the wrong reasons now — he realized that familiar scent that always lingered around her was stuck to his skin. That sweet, fresh, intoxicating scent that had a hint of something he could never quite place, had found a home on the planes of his torso, and Adrian realized that if he could, he would’ve bottled the fragrance and sprayed it on every article of clothing he owned so that he could surround himself with her.

“Oh, you’re finally up,” she said, staring at Adrian from the door of the bathroom, and Adrian scrambled to put his glasses on. She was rubbing something on her face, moisturizer or some fancy serum, Adrian guessed, and his mind was flooded with images of him rubbing his hands over her and savoring in the softness of her skin, before he rubbed his eyes, trying to rid his brain of the picture that had been burned into it.

“Uh, yeah. How long have you been up? I mean, I’m assuming it’s been a while, you look pretty great right now. I mean awake. You look awake, not great. I mean, it’s not that you don’t look great, but I feel like it’s weird if I say you look great so I was saying that you look awake. At least, I assume so. Since you’re doing all your makeup or something. Not that you need it. You’re really pretty alrea—”

“Ok, I’m gonna stop you right there before you say something you regret,” she cut in, and despite her light tone Adrian couldn’t get past the slightly critical look she was giving him. “Economos sent me the location,” she said, “get ready. We’re leaving in thirty.”

To his surprise, Adrian got ready surprisingly fast. He figured that considering the events from the night before, as well as the catastrophe of this morning, his neurons would be way too fried for him to even get out of bed, and yet thirty minutes later he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Dodge Challenger, going sixty miles per hour down a desolate road.

Adrian let out a whistle, “So, what do you think Waller has us doing today?”

“God I hope it’s not aliens,” she sighed, reaching into the back seat for her bag. “But let’s be real, Leota’s press conference stunt did nothing but get us heat from Waller and the rest of the government. Stupid press didn’t even do anything. She’s probably found another deadly alien race that she needs us to kill. God knows we’re expendable enough to her,” she muttered, pulling out a small handgun and loading the clip.

“I don’t know, I enjoyed fighting the butterflies,” Adrian chirped, “plus, it felt super awesome when we told the Justice League that they could suck it because they were dumb weaklings that couldn’t even arrive on time.”

She paused what she was doing to give Adrian a quizzical look, “You didn’t even say anything to them, Chase. Chris was the only one that said anything and all he said was that they were late.”

“Still though,” he pressed, “I’m sure they could understand what I was trying to say. Wanna listen to the radio?”

“Uh, sure. Do they have NPR?” she asked, prompting Adrian to give her a disapproving look. “I’m joking,” she said after a beat, “lord knows your head would explode if you listened to anything other than 90’s bubblegum pop or whatever music Chris listens to. What is it, 80’s metal?”

“Actually, it’s 80’s glam-metal, and it’s amazing. How can you call yourself an 11th Street Kid if you think glam-metal is the same as regular metal?” he scoffed, “I mean, I’ve heard of a lot of insane things over the years, but that takes the cake.”

“What’s even the difference between glam-metal and regular metal anyways? It all sounds pretty similar to me,” she said, her eyes squinted in concentration as loaded the clip on another handgun.

Adrian laughed out loud this time, turning to look over at her with a fake look of shock painted on his face, “Ok, I lied about that last thing. This, this is the most insane thing I have ever heard come out of someone’s mouth. Glam-metal and regular metal are the most different things in the entire world. Chris told me all about it. Regular metal is lame and boring and is made for cowards, glam-metal is ten times better, it’s the most unlame genre ever made, and it’s made for real men. The difference is that glam-metal—”

“Hey, stop here,” she interrupted him as they pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store, “guess you won’t be able to tell me about how amazing glam-metal is. I’m devastated,” she said, climbing out of the car, and even Adrian could pick up on her sarcasm. “Grab your bag, I don’t want to get screwed over if someone tries to steal this car.” With a sigh, Adrian grabbed his bag from the car and slung it over his shoulder as the two of them walked towards the store.

If the half-fallen sign in the front of the building wasn’t enough indication that the place hadn’t been visited for years, the inside was. Shelves were knocked over, trash was piled in corners, and various assortments of canned goods lined the floors.

“Hey, look at this,” Adrian grunted, squatting down to pick a package off the floor, “it’s a pack of beef jerky. Think it’s still good?”

“I- No, Adrian. I do not think floor jerky from an abandoned grocery store is good,” she said incredulously.

But in typical Adrian fashion, the word of his peers was never enough, and so he opened up the years-old package and popped a piece in his mouth. “Hm,” he hummed to himself as he chewed, “you know, it’s not as bad as I thought. It’s a little stale, but given the price I paid for these, I’d say it’s a total win. Want one?”

“Oh my god Adrian,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes, “I- Just come on, We’ve gotta meet the others, I don’t have time to deal with you and your floor jerky.” With a resigned shrug of his shoulders, Adrian followed her throughout the derelict store, chewing contentedly on his floor jerky until they reached a small room in the back. She stopped in front of the door, and with a deep breath, gave one sharp rap, followed by two quick ones and one delayed one. The two of them waited in silence for a brief moment before the door opened, revealing Leota by the door, Emilia leaning over a large map, John typing away at his computer, and Chris staring over his shoulder.

“Finally,” John sighed, looking up from his screen, “what took you guys so long?”

“Adrian ate ten year-old floor-jerky,” she explained, which caused a groan from everyone.

“What?” Adrian cried, “jerky is what you eat during the apocalypse, it’s made to be eaten centuries after it’s cooked.”

Leota scoffed, “That is not true, and also there are rats here man. How do you know your floor-jerky wasn’t part of some rat’s dinner?”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna die of plague, that hasn’t killed anyone since the year 200, Adebayo. And if I were to catch it, I could probably just sleep it off,” Adrian said, chuckling.

“Dude, you can’t just sleep off plague,” Chris butted in.

“Uh, I totally could,” Adrian persisted.

“Dude,” John said, “it’s plague.”

“Ok we get it,” she cut in, silencing Adrian with a look that only encouraged the butterflies in his stomach, “Adrian’s stupid and he’s probably gonna die. What else is new? Now can we figure out what the hell is going on with this mission?”

Emilia looked up from the map, passing out dossiers to each member of the team. “Ten weeks ago, the President’s secret service arrived in Maine to secure a location the president would be speaking at,” she explained, pointing to a circled area on the map. “Within the hour, all five agents were found dead on the scene. First responders noted a single gunshot right between the eyebrows on each agent, ballistics assuming that they were shot long-distance, presumably a sniper.”

“Wait, they’re assuming?” Chris asked, looking up from the file, “these nerds spend all day analyzing bullets and they can’t even find out what gun the bullet is from?”

“Well these ‘nerds’ are the only people we have so don’t complain,” Emilia said, “besides, it’s pretty hard to analyze a bullet when there aren’t any.”

“Wait,” Adrian said slowly, “so whoever shot them took the bullets back after they were done?”

“Hey, what’s this?” she asked, and her voice sounded like a symphony to Adrian’s ears. “The autopsy report stated that the cause of death was batrachotoxin? What in the world is that? And does this mean the shots were done post-mortem?”

“Batrachotoxin,” John started, bringing his laptop over to the center of the table, “is an insanely powerful neurotoxin found on, get this, the skin of poison dart frogs. Get less than a gram of this stuff into your bloodstream, and in less then ten minutes you’ll be suffering from paralysis and then death.”

“Well that doesn’t make any sense,” Chris started.

“Exactly,” Emilia cut in, “if the toxin was already gonna kill them, why bother shooting them?”

“Oh, that’s not what I was talking about,” Chris said, “I was talking about the thing Economos said. How do you suffer from death? You can’t be suffering from death because you’ll already be dead.”

“Ok, it’s a figure of speech,” John said.

“Yeah, a dumb one,” Chris said, chuckling, “you know John, I was actually starting to think you were smart when you were talking about all that poison stuff but then this?”

“Hey screw you!” John yelled, although his protest was diminished by Chris’ roars of laughter.

“Ok, everyone shut up!” Emilia yelled, clenching her fists together. “We’re not done here yet, keep your egos in check until we’re done, got it?” she asked, “good. Now, since then, secret service agents have been dying the same way whenever they go to scout out a new location. It’s always the same situation: death by batrachotoxin, a post-mortem bullet to the head with no bullet, no witnesses, suspects, or evidence.”

“So, what are we doing here?” Adrian asked.

“At 5 this afternoon, the secret service is supposed to scout out an outdoor speaking event for the president. Waller wants us to arrive beforehand and see if there’s anyone suspicious who may be our guy. In the event that we do see him, Waller has been very insistent that we do not kill him? Understand?” Emilia asked, eyeing Chris and Adrian.

“Hey, why are you looking at us?” Adrian whined.

“Because you’re not exactly Mahatma Gandhi, and if we kill our guy, Waller will kill us.”

“The deaths coincide with dates the president is supposed to talk about his new anti-nuclear weapon policy, is it possible this is a rival politician trying to stop the president from talking about his new policy?” Leota asked.

“That’s our current lead,” Emilia explained, “Economos has been looking into politicians that disagree with the president’s policy, we’ve been tracking their comings and goings, looking into their communications, and trying to find anything that might lead to our guy. However, given the fact that we were assigned this mission two nights ago and the concerningly large number of politicians that want more nukes, we’ve barely been able to get through anything.”

“You said the senator was coming in right Harcourt? That’s why our hotel was so booked up. And this poison has to be coming from somewhere, poison dart frogs are native to central america right? So shouldn’t we be checking whether or not any of these guys have made repeated trips down to the border? I mean, getting this stuff through customs can’t be easy,” she pointed out, and when Adrian looked over at her, he had to physically stop himself from staring at her for too long.

“You’re right. Economos, check that out. For now, Leota and John will stay at the hotel and research our politicians. The rest of us will go to the location and try and see if we find anyone. This,” Emilia explained, pointing to another circle on the map, “is where the president will be speaking. Me and Chris will be watching the park and the two of you will surveill the forest behind it. If these shots were done by a sniper, the forest would be a good place to do it.”

Adrian sucked in a sharp breath, he was nervous, to say the least. “Hey Harcourt?” he asked, “can I talk to you real quick?”

Emilia sighed, but she let Adrian pull her aside while the rest of the team continued to look through the case files. “What do you need, Chase?” she asked with a sigh.

“I’m not trying to be uncool or anything but do you think it’s possible that I could go with Chris instead? It’s just that we’ve got a real ‘Bert-and-Ernie’ vibe and I think it would be good for the mission.”

Emilia sighed, “Bert and Ernie? Like from Sesame Street?”

“Wait, that’s where it’s from?” Adrian asked incredulously, “I thought Bert and Ernie were just some really good friends from like 1934 or something, and then they were just known throughout town as being really good friends, and so when someone else wanted to prove how good of friends they were with someone else, they would just say that they had a Bert and Ernie friendship, since Bert and Er—”

“Ok shut up Chase,” Emilia demanded. “Is this about your weird little crush on her?” she asked, gesturing over to where she currently sat, rifling through the dossier with that familiar crinkle in her brow.

Adrian scoffed loudly, “Please, what? Crush? Who- Who said I had a crush on her? Please, that’s- How old am I? Twelve? I don’t… I don’t like her.”

Emilia stared at him, her lack of belief in his statement clear on her face. “Well then, if you don’t like her then you should be fine working with her,” she said, turning away from Adrian with a shake of her head. “But Adrian?” she said, turning back to face him, “if you mess this up because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, Waller won’t be the only woman looking for your head.”

“Got it,” Adrian said awkwardly, although Harcourt had already walked away from him. Puffing air out of his lips, Adrian walked over to where his roommate and subsequent heartstopper was standing. He allowed himself to admire her focused stare for a second before he cleared his throat. “So…” he started, swinging his hands around. “Guess we’re gonna be partners… again,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “Just… two normal coworkers… working together… no weird feelings. I mean, of course there’s no weird feelings, I don’t even have feelings like I said last night, which was a totally normal night where nothing happened, definitely not during the middle of the night when you were sleeping… so should we go to the car?” he said, after clocking her stare.

“You’re acting really weird Chase,” she said, looking him up and down. “Let’s just get this done alright?” she said, slinging a duffel bag over her shoulder. Adrian watched her walk away for a moment before following her, but before he could Chris stopped him.

“Dude, just admit it, you like her,” Chris said.

“Psh, uh- wha- huh? I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about Chris, I have no feelings towards her at all, and definitely not love feelings,” Adrian spluttered frantically.

“Jesus Christ you’re hopeless Adrian.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that anyone with two eyes and half a brain can tell that you’re way into her dude. And I don’t mean that you just like her romantically, you’re pretty much in love you idiot.”

“Ok, that’s just not true Chris,” Adrian protested, although he had to admit that he had thought about it, “you should know better than anyone else that love? That’s just not the Vigilante-way. You and I? We put criminals to sleep and take their women to bed. We don’t get hung up on love or relationships or dreaming about owning a two story house with a white picket fence or a New York apartment or whatever housing situation our lover likes the best because they’re the most important thing to us and we would do anything to make them happy. No, the only people you and I are interested in is criminals, and murdering them. I know your time in Belle Reeve changed you and now you’re like this peace-loving hippie that doesn’t want to kill anyone and has crushes on people, but that’s not me. That’s not Vigilante. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go join my work partner on a very normal drive which I will very much enjoy because she is my coworker, and the only feelings I have towards her are respect and friendship.”

Chris shook his head. “Whatever you say man,” he said, giving Adrian a hard clap on the shoulder and sending him away.

“Sorry about that,” Adrian said as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

“About what?” she asked, flexing her hands against the steering wheel.

“Well- Chris had to talk to me about… something, so that’s why I took so long to come out.”

“Oh,” she said, “I didn’t notice.”

The two of them didn’t say much after that; she stared silently ahead at the road in front of them while Adrian gazed out the window, his eyes only flickering over to her occasionally. He wasn’t sure why but there was something off about her now. She was a naturally stoic and silent person, he knew — after all it was one of the reasons why he was so obsessed with her — but there was something else beneath her constrained quietness. A difference in the air around her; usually it felt calm, serene, still. But now, he could almost sense something disturbed about it. As if her stony facade were a smooth pond that had been marred by outward-moving rings of concentric circles, and yet what had caused the disturbance was still unknown, its very nature hidden away in the depths of the water.

It was then that Adrian thought back to the night before. He mulled over their conversations, choosing to skip over his many social errs and follies, when he remembered something that had struck him as odd when he heard it. “What did you mean when you said the bed was ‘too big’ last night?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“What did you mean when you asked Harcourt for a new partner?” she countered immediately, and to his surprise Adrian could feel a hint of emotion deep underneath her words, although the exact one was still unknown to him.

“I- That- It wasn’t what you think it was,” he tried to explain.

She chuckled dryly. “Is working with me really so horrible?” she asked, but Adrian could still sense that foreign emotion nudging at the edge of her words, yearning to free itself from its prison.

“No! No, not at all! It’s the opposite of that really,” Adrian said hurriedly. “It’s just that- I- You- I think… I think that you and I… I’m worried that we’re not… compatible? And… I guess that I’m just worried that you think I’m… you know,” he said, mumbling the last part.

“You’re what?” she asked, looking over at him, “weird? Annoying? Way too talkative?”

Adrian sighed, nodding glumly as he looked out the window. To his annoyance, it was ironically bright outside. The sun shining brightly overhead, there were no clouds in the sky, and the trees were rife with leaves as green as shamrocks. It looked like a scene from an oppressively happy movie — one that would be filled to the brim with cheesy romance, choreographed musical numbers, and shallow conflict that would be resolved in minutes. In other words, the exact opposite of his life.

“You’re right, I guess,” she said, her voice growing smaller now. “I do think you’re weird and annoying and way too talkative, but… for what it’s worth, I don’t really mind, and I don’t really mind… working with you,” she said, her voice now so quiet that it was barely above a whisper.

And it was then that the wool was finally pulled off Adrian’s eyes and he could see with startling clarity what he had missed before. The object that had disturbed the smooth pond of her aura, the hidden emotion that lurked beneath her words, he knew what it was now. He held it on the forefront of his mind and the tip of his tongue.

Betrayal.

She had overheard him asking for a partner change and she had felt hurt, she had felt offended, she had felt betrayed. And Adrian couldn’t have been more joyful. After what seemed like eons of searching for answers, for clues, anything that could’ve tipped the scales ever-so-slightly in his favor, he had found the very thing that would solve all his problems. Proof. Real, physical, audible proof that came out of her mouth that she cared. She cared about what he thought of her, even more, she enjoyed working with him. In all ways, it was a success, and Adrian had to fight to stop himself from bursting into giddy laughter right then and there.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked him, the betrayal no longer in her voice but instead replaced by something Adrian believed — hoped, really — to be playfulness.

“Nothing,” he said coyly, his smile growing impossibly bigger. “I mean, if I didn’t know any better I would say that you liked me,” he teased, grinning at her.

She glared back at him, but this time Adrian figured it held slightly less contempt that normal, “Say something stupid like that again and I’ll shoot you right now, got it Chase?” she threatened.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled, “like you’re gonna murder the love of your life.”

“Good god,” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she redirected her attention back to the road.

When they arrived at the location there was nothing particularly absurd about it. It was a medium-sized field of green grass surrounded by a ring of forest behind it. There was a podium in the center of the field, its body covered by a banner of the President’s face, the background of which was covered with patriotic reds and blues. In front of it were rows upon rows of folding chairs, and behind the podium were six American flags, the cloth hanging limply in the windless air.

“Come on,” she sighed, “Harcourt says we have to surveill the forest so we better get set up.” The forest seemed to be well over a mile away from where they stood, and so with a groan Adrian grabbed his things and followed behind her.

The trek to the forest was tedious at best. By then, the sun was directly overhead and its suffocating rays beat down at them insistently. Adrian could feel his body begin to drip with sweat as they trudged towards the forest, which seemed to only grow further and further away. To take his mind away from the torrid atmosphere, he focused on the person in front of him. The way her hair jolted every so slightly as she walked. The resoluteness of each step she took, as if each was carefully planned to take her further. The way she had finally admitted to him that she had some sort of feelings towards him, even if her voice was so quiet he worried that he may have imagined it.

With his focus diverted to her, the arid walk to the forest seemed irrelevant, like an after-thought, and before long they were standing on the edge of the trees. It was here Adrian realized that what he thought had been a densely packed area of trees was really nothing of the sort. In reality, the forest was quite sparse and exiguous; in fact, if you looked up the sky was startlingly visible. Its cloudless, turquoise expanse looming over them.

“Well, shall we go in m’lady?” he asked, sweeping his hand outward. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath but she went in regardless.

As she walked in, Adrian realized that they were sorely under-resourced for this kind of mission. The forest was impressively large, and even if it was relatively devoid of trees and shrubs, it would still take hours to search it completely. “Hey,” Adrian said, reaching for her shoulder to stop her from diligently soldiering on, “How are we supposed to find someone in here? This place is huge.”

She paused, scanning their surroundings, “You’ve got a point Chase,” she admitted, “I guess our best option would be to split up and look around, maybe find a vantage point a sniper might like. From there, if we don’t find them I guess we can find somewhere to meet up.” Adrian nodded slowly, although he was too preoccupied being upset that they would have to split up to truly understand what she was saying. She continued again, “I’ll radio Harcourt to tell her the plan, you go west, I’ll go east. We’ll walk to the edge of the forest and from there converge in the north. Check out high points and anything suspicious, if we find anything, radio each other. This guy is definitely a professional, so don’t engage unless we’re both there, or unless you’re one hundred percent sure that you can neutralize him without killing him. Remember, if he dies, Waller will make sure we do too. Got it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adrian said, “hey if you want, I can go east. I was just thinking that there are more trees eastward and since I have a helmet and you don’t I’m sure you could use the shade. Plus, this suit is insulated so it’s like a meat freezer in here, if you know what I mean.”

“Ugh, gross,” she said, “but whatever. Thanks, I guess.”

Adrian nodded enthusiastically in response, but by then she had already turned her back to him, the duffel bag of gear swinging as she slowly disappeared into the trees. With a sigh, Adrian readjusted the strap of his own duffel bag and turned towards the expanse he was to explore.

For the most part, his scouting was relatively uneventful. Occasionally, he would hear a rustle of leaves or a snapped twig, but when he went to check it out it would be nothing but the wind or a small animal. He spent most of the time lost in his thoughts, consumed by the hurricane of events that had preceded what he was doing now. The hotel room, the cuddling, the confession; just a few hours ago he had felt abandoned. Like the earth and the sky and everyone else was leaving him, off to live their happily ever afters without him.

But then, she had said those magical words, and Adrian’s world changed. No longer had he been left behind; now he was one with the earth and the sky and everyone else. He was one of them, ready to live out his own happily ever after with her. He repeated her words over and over in her head like a mantra, I don’t really mind working with you, he whispered to himself, taking steps in tandem with his words.

I don’t really mind working with you. One step.

I don’t really mind working with you. Two steps.

I don't really mind work—

“Chase,” he heard, the staticky chatter of the radio pulling him from his thoughts. “I think I see him, I just sent you my loca—” But then her voice was interrupted by a sickeningly familiar sound. One that rooted Adrian to his spot and sent chills cascading down his spine. A brief whistle of air followed by a startling crack as loud as a firework.

A gunshot.

Adrian began to panic. A gunshot was bad, very, very bad. She hadn’t been wearing a bulletproof vest. He had convinced her earlier that it was a needless precaution. It was dangerously hot outside and it would only slow them down. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were going to take him down alone.

By now they had to have been at least a mile away from each other. Even if he sprinted it would take him at least eight minutes to get there, and he wasn’t sure she had that long. For all he knew he could she could be dead.

That thought startled him into clarity, and in his newfound rationality he dropped the duffel and began running back where he came, digging furiously through his belt for his phone. Her coordinates only brought more bad news. Like he suspected, she was over a mile away. If she had been shot in the heart — which wouldn’t be unexpected, considering how good of a shot their suspect was — she would probably have died by now. A shot to the abdomen wasn’t good either. A few more minutes and she would be dead.

For now, Adrian could only cling onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t been the one to get shot. Maybe she shot him, or it was just a hunter somewhere miles away. Anything other than face the possibility that he may never see her again.

While he was running — branches scratching at his arms and rocks digging into his shoes — he came to another terrifying realization. Like him and Chris, she had a life outside of this. A life that he didn’t know, and that didn’t know him. She had other friends and other coworkers, and there was a frighteningly real chance that if she did die, he would never make it to her funeral. He would never be able to say his final goodbye. Never be able to at least cling onto her palm, no matter how cold it was, and tell her that he always loved her and that he’d never get over her.

And then with a shiver he realized it was all his fault.

He had been the one to convince her to take off her vest. He had been the one to propose they switch sides. He had been the one to make her life hell these past days. With his incessant pestering and teasing and blabbering. He should’ve been the one coming face-to-face with their sniper. His suit was already bulletproof, there would be no harm to him. She would come for back-up, they’d take him down, and maybe Adrian would even ask her out.

And now he wouldn’t even have the chance.

Adrian kept running throughout the forest. It was all he could do. All he knew how to do. One foot in front of the other. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Just like she had done just hours before when they were entering the forest. Just like she had before she fell victim to its cruel inhabitant.

His mind would’ve only spiraled further if his thoughts hadn’t been interrupted. From his belt, his radio began to chirp its small, static song. Without slowing down, Adrian pulled at the radio, holding it close to his ear to hear what was coming out.

“Where are—”

“Hel—”

“He got aw—”

“Tell Har—”

He could hear her voice crackling in and out of the receiver. Her voice was small and croaky. As if every word was strenuous and difficult. It did, however, bring a glimmer of hope. If she was strong enough to click the button of the radio and strong enough to lift it to her face, then there was a chance that she would be strong enough to hold on a little longer.

“Just wait,” he whispered into the radio, more of a plea than a request. “Please god, just wait. Please. Please. Please. You can’t go. Don’t go,” he babbled, realizing that tears had begun to stream down his face, soaking the inside of his mask. He kept rambling into the radio as he ran, not really knowing what he was saying and not really caring either.

After what seemed like a painfully long time, Adrian arrived at her location: a brief clearing near a cliffside. For a moment he couldn’t find her, and his heart was seized with panic and fear. The sight was unsettlingly macabre. In the center was a haunting trail of sticky blood. The crimson liquid tainting the green grass beneath it. His eyes traced up its winding path until he saw her, slumped over against a tree.

Her hands laid on either side of her, their palms facing the sky. The sight of her reminded him of biblical paintings he saw during his childhood. Jesus, his palms up to the sky, praising the Lord and readying himself to ascend to the heavens. It also reminded him of a sacrifice. As if someone had propped her up against the tree to sacrifice to some cruel god. Although, Adrian supposed, it was clear now that all gods were cruel. Cruel because they let her get hurt. Cruel because they made it his fault. Cruel because they made him love her.

He realized then that he hadn’t moved since entering the clearing and so he hastily rushed over to her. His hands fumbled and shook as he reached for her wrist. It was limp and pliable in his grip, but he could ever so faintly feel the whisper of a pulse. “Come on,” he whispered to her, “wake up. Come on. Wake up. Come on. Wake up.” Over and over again he repeated this, although it worked more to calm him than to stimulate her.

The first thing he needed to do was stop the bleeding. And yet, there was so much blood that he could barely tell where it began. At that point, his hyperventilating had begun to fog up his helmet, and so he lifted it off so he could care for her, frantically shoving his glasses onto his face. The lack of his helmet, however, made everything seem so much worse. With the red tint of his visor no longer there to mask some of the damage, he was forced to face the extent of her wounds head-on.

Clenching his hands into balls, he took a shaky breath to steady himself. Carefully, he began to feel around her abdomen, caressing the smooth canvas of her skin until he found it. The divot of a gunshot. As far as he knew it hadn’t hit anything vital, although he worried that it was dangerously close to her spinal cord.

Adrian swiveled around, searching for the duffel bag. It would have first aid in it, gauze, bandages, painkillers, but it was nowhere to be found. He realized that their mystery sniper had most likely taken it, and then he remembered why they had the duffel in the first place. The mission. Quickly, he grabbed the radio off of his belt, cursing as he fumbled wildly with the controls until he could tune into Harcourt and Chris’ frequency.

“Help,” he said frantically. “Help. Help. We need help. She got shot. I’ll send you our coordinates, just get help,” he said, too frenzied to add anything more.

He had to stop the bleeding. He had to find something that he could use to wrap it, to apply pressure. There was no duffel, no gauze, no bandages, so did the only thing he could think to do. He started undressing. As fast as he could he started shedding his gear, cursing his past self for adding so many layers.

After a frustratingly long time, he was finally left in a long-sleeve black shirt. Hastily, he ripped a large piece off the bottom and prepared to lift her. Adrian sat down next to her, and trying to be as careful as possible, slowly lifted her into his lap so that her head was resting on his leg. From this position, it was much easier for him to navigate her body. For him to carefully and tightly wrap the strip of cloth around her waist. For him to gently wipe some of the hair off of her bloodied face. For him to grip onto her hand and whisper that everything would be alright.

But there was too much blood, he realized. It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t possible to lose such a large amount of blood from one gunshot, which meant there had to be another. He looked back at the trail of blood. She was the strongest person he knew, if she dragged herself to the tree he knew it would be because she had to. With a bout of clarity, he began scanning her legs until his eyes rested on another wound.

This gunshot was located on her thigh, just above her knee. It was slowly spitting up blood, the liquid oozing out in small rivulets. Cursing under his breath, he fished a knife out from his belt and, carefully, cut away the cloth around it. He hastily peeled off his shirt so that he could construct a tourniquet and began to tie it around her leg, just above the wound.

Adrian held his breath as he watched the wound on her leg. To his relief, it had slowly stopped bleeding, and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, stroking some hair off of her forehead, “I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me, this is all my fault.”

Then, for some reason Adrian couldn’t understand, he was overwhelmed with the urge to be close to her. And very carefully, he lifted her from where she lay and pulled her close to him so that her back was against his chest.

In these moments while he waited for the team to find them, it was quiet. With her against him, Adrian felt oddly peaceful. He felt placid. He felt as if he were floating in the middle of an ocean. He let himself be buoyed by the waves, opened himself up to the gentle lull of their movement. And so because he was very tired — after all he had been through so much already — he let himself close his eyes. He let himself dream.

He dreamed that they were in Paris, sitting on a balcony and watching the sun set. Her, leaning against him like she was now, and him with his arm around her waist, stroking the plane of her side tenderly. Once the sun set, they would stare with awe and amazement at just how quickly the city transformed. How it became bright and vibrant. How the Eiffel Tower lit up the night sky. She would stare up at him, and in her eyes would be a twinkle so bright and loving that it would outshine every other light in the city.

Or if they weren’t in Paris, perhaps they were in the Bahamas. Where the sky was always clear and the ocean was always blue. Where the sun was always shining, but not as forcefully as it had before. Instead, the sun’s rays would be gentle, a delight instead of a torment. They would be sitting along the beach, the sand nestled in between their toes, and Adrian would smile lazily down at her, and she would smile back.

By the time she woke up, Adrian had been in the hospital for over a day. They had been lucky though. The team had found them quickly and their sniper was caught fleeing the scene. The surgery went smoothly, and when it was done the doctors informed that team that had the bullet had narrowly missed her spinal cord as well as several internal organs. She would be in a coma, they told him, due to her severe blood loss but she would be awake again soon.

Adrian didn’t consider that lucky though. Luck was not getting shot in the first place. Luck was never being assigned to this wretched mission at all. Luck was being able to live your life without worrying about which government official was going to risk your life for some stupid political campaign.

He couldn’t help but be mad. At the sniper, at the team, at himself. It was all so preventable. If he had just pushed Harcourt a little further for a new teammate. If he had just kept his mouth shut instead of suggesting they switch sides. If he had just gotten there a little bit faster or tied the tourniquet a little bit tighter.

“I said the bed was too big because of something that happened before I joined the team,” she said, her voice small and raspy, and Adrian looked up. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed her stir from her hospital bed.

“What?” he asked, too shocked to say anything else.

“A few years ago,” she said, letting out a deep sigh, “I was an A.R.G.U.S. agent. I was young and dumb and reckless and I became friends with a fellow agent, Jason. One day, we were working a mission. We were in a big clearing and I was stupid and walked right in without checking for traps. It was a set-up of couse, and I got shot.” Adrian took in a sharp breathe at this, but she waved her hand dismissively and continued. “It wasn’t bad, just nicked my arm.”

“But Jason had followed me, and he wasn’t so lucky. He got shot in the chest, and before I knew it he was on the ground. It was a terrible feeling. We were like some dumb animal, wandering straight into a trap where we could just be plucked off one by one. I had no shield, no cover, nothing. There were bullets flying around me and I didn’t know what to do.

“I wasn’t thinking straight and so I did the first thing I could think of and ran back where I came from, leaving Jason behind. Once I was in the forest, I could see what happened to him. He had been shot more times than I could count. None of them fatal, which is worse. Eventually the bullets stopped, but I couldn’t go back out there. I watched, less than six feet away as one of my best friends choked to death on his own blood. All because of me.

“I remember what it felt like attending his funeral. It was in a cathedral. The ceiling was so high and the whole place was so open. It reminded me of when he died. Of the openness, of the vulnerability, of the shame.

“I realized then why A.R.G.U.S. tells you not to befriend any of your coworkers. It’s because you get close to them. And when they inevitably die, you obsess over it. And they were right. I did. I couldn’t stop thinking about how scared I had been, and how scared Jason must have been. I was able to get away relatively unharmed, but Jason’s body had been mutilated so badly the funeral had to be closed-casket.”

“That’s why you dragged yourself to the tree,” Adrian whispered quietly.

She nodded, and there was a hint of sadness behind her smile. “Why’d you tell me this?” Adrian asked softly, “I mean, I appreciate it but, it’s not exactly ‘in-character’ for you.”

She laughed lightly, “Well you saved my life out there Adrian. If it weren’t for you I would just be another Jason. I owed you one, and now my debt is repaid.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time,” he whispered, reaching out tentatively to grab her hand.

She let him grab it, and when he did she squeezed it back. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible teammate.”

“Don’t say that, you’ve been perfect. You’re perfect,” he said.

Adrian smiled at her, and she smiled back. Once Adrian had considered her an enigma. A mystery. An equation waiting to be solved. But here in the hospital, with its fluorescent bulbs humming lightly and the dull buzz and whirs of the machines, he realized that she was anything but. At the end of the day, she was just a girl — a person, like him — who was scared. Who was haunted by the ghosts of her past. Who was more comfortable locking things away than presenting them freely. Who would rather be seen as someone intimidating and formidable than caring and emotional. And it was so simple, he realized, the basis of her being. Her motives, her desires, her wants. They were basic. They were human.

And yet as simple as they were, there was a layer of complexity to them. There was a layer of complexity to her. In a way, she reminded him of a bank vault. The mechanics of the door — the locks, the screws, the bolts — were intensely complicated. They were purposely designed to be impenetrable. Each facet was orchestrated so carefully so that the treasures inside would never be seen without the right password.

But now, Adrian had the right password. And when he was finally able to get past the vault's solid doors and view the treasure inside, he could finally appreciate just how beautifully simple it was. The luxuries inside were akin to diamonds, both in beauty and personality.

Like a diamond, she too had experienced a life of suffocating pressure. Pushing down farther and farther on her until finally, she did not crack, but instead became an impeccable jewel. A stone, unrivaled in its beauty and worth, with not even the slightest impurity to desecrate it. A diamond was beautiful because it was perfectly simple, just like her.

And it was this limbo, this teetering balance of complex simplicity that she was so comfortable in, that had drawn Adrian, like a moth to a flame, into her. It was this limbo that had allured him so intensely, so powerfully, that he could not bear to turn away. And it was in this limbo, Adrian knew, that he loved her, and that he would always love her. For he had become hers. And he knew this because his heart, his soul, and his livelihood had become clutched tightly in her grasp.

And while he watched her smile at him, her eyebrows finally uncreasing, he hoped that whatever god was out there would not be so cruel as to make her let go.

#bingoboingobongo.com #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase fluff #adrian chase angst #adrian chase smut #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase fic #adrian chase one shot #adrian chase #peacemaker #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante fluff #vigilante angst #vigilante smut #vigilante imagine

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certifiedwhore4slashers · 1 year

Text

Immune

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: you and Ellie both get bit, but only of you makes it out okay.

warnings: heavy angst, established relationship, reader doesn’t know ellie is immune, clickers, gore, blood, gun violence(?), etc…

this is tlou part ii ellie so she is nineteen and well joel is 💀 because I know I would suck writing for him but if you want him involved or me writing him lmk:)

“Fuck, you say, as you run from the unsurprisingly fast crowd of clickers. “Come on, y/n! Ellie said. You pant. All this running was quite exhausting and you couldn’t go on forever. You weren’t fourteen and energetic anymore.

Plus they were fast despite literally being blind. “We have to keep going, Ellie said. You sigh.”I know… I just…” you hear them come closer so you run as fast as you can.

Shooting them worked but you had to save your bullets and you just ran out. That’s where you had been. To get more. Then the clickers found you.

It was odd because you hadn’t seen any in a whole until now. “Are you kidding me? You exclaim. You were under the impression Ellie wasn’t immune, that you both could get bitten and become a clicker, well, eventually anyways.

“We can do this, Y/n, Ellie insists, standing not that far from you. “I don’t think so, You say.”I mean, we’re going to get bitten one way or another.”

The clicker comes over. You got more bullets so you shot it twice. You normally would’ve felt bad if it was an actual human. But despite the fact that physically it was someone, that person was long gone after being infected.

You get blood spattered on you and as you shoot, a clicker pounced. “Y/N! Ellie yells, you groan, and watch as she tries to fight the clicker off of you.

You sit up, that ordeal had been crazy. Then, you feel aching pain, and look down. Your arm. You had been bitten. And so did Ellie.

You’d admit you had fallen in love with her throughout all of this and it was clear the feeling had been mutual. So you two became a couple.

“Y/n? Ellie said. “We’ve both been bitten, you say, realization hitting you.”We won’t make it.” “Yes we will… she said.

“I’m going to become one of them soon! And so will you! You say.”Just fucking shoot me. Or at the least, we let it take over together.”

Tears fill in both of your eyes. There was no cure or a way out. It was inevitable. Though, you didn’t know Ellie was an immune. She wouldn’t become a clicker nor was she even infected.

“y/n…. I can’t… she said, the gun in her hand. “Please, you beg.”it’s the only way. Do it for Joel. I’ll see him real soon unless he’s in hell or whatever the place we go to when we die.”

Joel.

Ellie couldn’t think about him without the memories of his death flooding in her mind. You had witnessed it too, and it was a sensitive topic.

Ellie begins crying. Which wasn’t something you had seen her do much. She kept to to herself because of trust issues and the fact anyone she’s loved and cried to has died.

You both mouth, I love you, and the gun goes off. You’re dead. And Ellie is alone. As she had been. Ellie didn’t have good luck.

She’d be on her own now. Ellie couldn’t risk losing someone else. first Joel, and then you.

#the last of us #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lesbian

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warpfive · 2 years

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ASKING TACTICAL/SECURITY OFFICERS FOR A HUG

how the ship's tactical/security officers react when their lover asks for a hug

CW: gn! reader

CREW: malcolm reed, worf, odo, la'an, tuvok

MALCOLM - “a hug?” you’d asked so bluntly after having a conversation about that evening’s training session that malcolm was a little (a lot) unprepared for it. his head whips over to look at you, thinking maybe he heard wrong, but he’s smart and observant and he can see the subtle changes in your demeanor that it makes him worry. for some reason, malcolm stalls on answering - asks if you’re alright, if he did anything, if it’s really appropriate to hug in the armory. you don’t answer any of his questions, of course, just a short and simple “i really need a hug right now.” a valid reason that has malcolm glancing around the room before turning to face you completely. he’s more than a little worried now, knowing something big must be up with you. he can’t voice his concerns, however, before you lean forward and lock his waist with your arms and malcolm feels your body loosen against his. and when his own arms come around your shoulders, he decides that a hug will have to do for now.

WORF - “a hug?” he doesn’t mean for the question to come out as an accusation. but you couldn’t blame him for sounding like you’d just challenged him to a duel - he could count on one hand the amount of hugs worf has given in his life and he didn’t expect to give one today. you don’t back down from your request, and even seem to double down when you follow him deeper into his quarters, saying how he’ll be gone for a while, you’ll miss him, what if you never see him again? (worf was much quicker to refute that one.) part of him wants to brush you off - the rest of him relents much easier than he expected and you’re walking into his open arms before he knows it. and worf would never admit it out loud, but the hug was good and warm. your fingers trailed down his spine and worf knew that he was going to miss you, too - and the hug was something he didn’t know he needed.

ODO - “a hug?” he sounds more dismissive than he would like. had you asked him back in your quarters, instead of his office, odo would’ve gladly complied - he does have a hard time telling you no. he’s hesitant to do so where anybody could walk in and see, but odo is much more adept at reading a solid than replicating the form of one. something was bothering you. something he didn’t know about and that in itself bothered him. his instinct is to sit you down and implore you to tell him, but you seem very insistent on the hug. odo sighs, glances around, shifts his weight, swears he sees a sly little smile on your face. but again, he can’t say no to you. and that’s how quark happened upon the sappy little scene, and how odo knew he’d be hearing about it forever. still, it was a nice hug - more importantly, it seemed to have helped you.

LA’AN - “a hug?” she couldn’t lie - despite the disbelief hanging on her words, the concept of a hug was a pretty one. her body ached, energy drained, head still reeling from the mission and simply being in sick bay with you has gone a long way in making la’an feel better. but surviving the mission evidently wasn’t enough for you. no, she still sees the distress on your face and the fading redness around your eyes. la’an knew it was a close call, but had it truly been that close? she doesn’t argue or pull away like normal, instead leaning forward on the biobed and letting you take the burden, for once. you were soft and warm and squishy - words she’d feel absolutely ashamed to say out loud but it was true. it was a half-assed hug, with la’an too hurt to do much and you still shaking a little from the ordeal. but it was good. it was enough.

TUVOK - “a hug?” he thinks about declining, but shoots that thought down quickly. observant as ever, tuvok could tell how poor your emotional state was. in fact, he could almost feel it in the air like a dense fog. yeah, he thinks about declining, but his hand reaches the curve of your shoulder before he really puts thought into doing the opposite. tuvok doesn’t even initiate the hug - once you feel his hand, you’re the one wrapping your arms around his middle and leaning into him like you so obviously needed. tuvok is stiff as a board and says nothing, but he learns quickly that his small gesture had meant the world to you. the onslaught of emotions was as dense and ferocious as a tidal wave, and he understands why you needed such close contact from him. he wouldn’t say so, but tuvok was pleased he was able to ease your suffering - it lessened the force of your emotions into a much more pleasant kind.

#star trek x reader #star trek headcanons #malcolm reed x reader #odo x reader #worf x reader #la'an x reader #tuvok x reader

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theelvenhaven · 2 years

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Unexpected Consequences

Part 3

Maitimo x Reader

3.1k Words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

* * *

A week ago Nerdanel had unexpectedly shown up for tea, to make up for how horrendous everything had gone those few weeks ago when Maitimo had shown up on your doorstep unannounced. But you knew what she really had been there for despite what she said. Nerdanel wanted to get to the bottom of why it was you had rejected Maitimo as fiercely as you had and where it had come from.

You had kept your wrath under such lock and key that she had no idea that was how you felt. Of course Maitimo told her how you reacted, and if he hadn’t Nerdanel would’ve come asking what all had happened anyways. To her you were just as much her child as Maitimo was. She loved and cared for you both deeply.

The two of you had made it through most of tea without any discussion of Maitimo, both getting distracted as you spoke about idle things such as work and hobbies. What the newest creation was that Nerdanel was working on as well as what you had been dabbling in lately. It had helped take your mind off the whole ordeal and it relaxed you to enjoy and indulge in such things with your mother in law.

It was only when the two of you had run out of things to speak about that Nerdanel finally brought up the question you knew she had been dying to ask:

“Why did you reject Maitimo?”

It wasn’t accusatory when she asked, Nerdanel was not a condescending nis. That was not in her nature, always wishing to understand where it was you were coming from. Rather than judge you negatively on your thoughts and feelings or attempt to force you into feeling certain ways about things. If there was anyone who could understand what you were going through, it was certainly your mother in law.

Though you felt defensive, you answered her honestly. That you had been hurt by him, that he didn’t seem to care about his vows that he shared with you. That Maitimo had caused you immeasurable pain and suffering. Not that you needed to explain that last part to Nerdanel, as you had both consoled and comforted each other through the suffering you both experienced.

But you withheld how you hated the Silmarils, that you hated Feanaro, that your husband had cared for those infernal rocks and his mad father more than you. You wanted to say how you hadn’t felt like an equally important figure in his life. For him to force you to stay and leave you alone all this time.

Though you suspected Nerdanel had an inkling as to what you wanted to say. Ever insightful and wise as she was, and after raising seven children with varying degrees of personality, reading others was quite her specialty. You had watched her in silence for a long moment, waiting to see what she’d say or see if Nerdanel would drop the issue entirely.

It was after an uncomfortable and nerve inducing silence that Nerdanel finally answered you, with her thoughts. Starting off with how you didn’t have to forgive Maitimo if you weren’t ready too, agreeing with you that he earned your anger for all the hurt he caused you. But she only felt it fair that you two start making a decision of what to do with your marriage and discuss with one another all that transpired.

Even going as far to explain that if need be, consider a divorce. Like she had done if you felt that it was truly irreparable. Her reasoning was that she wanted the two of you to make the best decisions for yourselves and not be stuck together and miserable.

Thinking back on the word divorce alone was enough to make your heart stutter in your chest. It was a valid idea to offer up for you to consider… Yet so far every time you thought of it, it only served to make the hurt in your chest grow exponentially.

Did you want to get a divorce? To truly be done with all you had previously had because of what had transpired?

You didn’t know… Perhaps had you considered it an option the moment you saw him, you’d have announced you wanted one. Being so angry and bitter over what had happened. But you had too long to think things over as the vitriol wore down. You were still furious with him, but the bitterness had eased, revealing a gaping emotional wound. One that you felt wasn’t fixable, though you suspected Nerdanel felt otherwise.

So now you sat at the table in your kitchen, patiently waiting for your guest to arrive. Having sent word to Maitimo that you would agree to meet with him today, and you had received a lengthy reply in return. But all that mattered to you was the agreement had been given. You weren’t ready to read any of his small talk or his questions. You didn’t want to communicate so thoroughly with him until you knew whether or not it was best to separate from him.

Quietly you fiddled with the napkin on the table, with a teaspoon sitting atop it. Delicate floral teacups sat before you and the place you had set for Maitimo, along with a few comfort food items. Something you were craving hoping it would help ease some of the pain you felt, you took a deep steadying breath as you heard approaching footsteps.

Not bringing yourself to look up at the visitor that entered into your humble kitchen, you only caught a blur of red and black. It was enough for you to know exactly who it was that was taking their place across from you now. For a moment you glanced up, taking a moment to stare into those pale blue eyes that watched you with hope etched in them.

You had always admired his optimism for even the worst of situations, even when his father was spiraling and descending into darkness. Had he always held out some kind of hope until the day Morgoth came knocking on Formenos’ door. Then you had watched it die out entirely, until now.

“It is good to see you Y/N.” Maitimo greeted softly in a warm voice, and you nodded for a moment. Trying not to indulge in just how good it felt to hear him say those words, your mind countering that it wouldn’t have to be so good to hear them if he had let you leave with him in the first place. You thought for a moment trying to decide how you were going to answer him, it was good to see him but you were still angry.

“You look… well. To which I am glad to see.” You answered stiffly, and an awkward silence hung over the two of you after you said this, bringing you to look back down at the napkin right in front of you. Maitimo mulled over what to say, he thought he had prepared for this moment. To explain everything to you, to beg you for forgiveness even if that meant having to get down on his knees and plead. He didn’t want to lose you.

Yet seeing how cold and distant you were, and the few words Nerdanel had confided in him regarding the situation, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was clear more tact and diplomacy was needed as opposed to the groveling he was willing to do if it would soothe and win you over. But it wouldn’t and he knew it.

“I have asked for you here… Because I want to discuss all that had happened all those years ago.” You said, finally giving Maitimo an insight to what your thoughts were. He nodded looking at you, seeing the upset on your face, having heard the firmness in your voice as you attempted to make yourself stronger than what he knew you must be feeling. Maitimo nodded his head, feeling it best if he let you speak your piece than trying to dominate and direct the conversation.

“I am still… Angry with you. I resent you, I am bitter.” You began to explain, your voice cracking with emotion as you began to speak. Trying not to exude any of that anger and bitterness you felt in your tone, but you couldn’t help it. You were so hurt and all of those millennia of hurts simmered to the surface finally boiling over after so many years of hiding it all.

“You left me, you gave me no choice and only spoke over me and ignored my pleas and me wanting to be with you. You cared more for the Oath and for those stupid fucking rocks than you did me. Did our vows mean anything to you?” You managed out, biting back the tears you felt swell in your eyes, wishing to spillover and down your face. Maitimo said nothing, sitting there quietly clutching his thigh tightly, it was harsh to hear how you were really feeling.

But he knew he had earned it, but slowly he nodded his head at your question. Realizing now that you were leaving an opening for him to be able to reply to you. To tell you part of what his motivations had been.

“They meant and mean everything to me meldanya-”

“Don’t.. Meldanya me.” You shot out quickly, but there was less bite on your tongue as you folded your arms over your chest. The teapot and cups untouched still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to enjoy the tea you made. The irony was you had made a soothing chamomile tea to assist with your rage.

“They still mean everything to me, in those vows I made to you was a promise to protect you, Y/N… And I did not feel I could adequately protect you.” Maitimo answered you in earnest, looking at you as he spoke to you. His pale blue eyes pleading with you to listen. To understand where it was he was coming from. Yet as you looked back at him… Your expression was indecipherable. He couldn’t tell what was running through your mind, you had gotten well at masking your feelings.

“But that wasn’t your decision to make, Nelyafinwe.” You said, calling him by his Ataresse, seeing that you wanted that emotional distance from him right now. You wanted to call him Maitimo, to speak fondly to him. But you were too hurt still to do so and his so called reasonings to protect you seemed like a weak rehearsed excuse for you.

“You’re right it wasn’t, but I didn’t see any other way to keep you protected.” He answered you, and you frowned deeply.

“Y/N.. With how bleak and chaotic things looked… With the fact that Atya wanted to go after Morgoth himself… All I could see was catastrophe. A world that would be unfair and unsafe for you, for us.” And after his time in Angband all you would’ve been to Morgoth was a high prized tool to use and torture him with. Especially if he could get his blackened hands upon you, but he wasn’t going to say that yet. This wasn’t about him, it was about you.

“So you forced me to stay and bound yourself to something you saw nothing but catastrophe in?” You countered, letting your bitterness show through and Maitimo was quiet. When you put it that way, it did seem ridiculous. He could see why you were upset, it had been rash and foolish and he would happily admit that to you. He was going to admit that to you.

“Yes, because I was rash. I saw my grandfather… After what Morgoth had done, I felt fear for what could happen to you. If he’d crush Finwe in our home for gems… What else would he have done to you if he could get a hold of you?” He stopped himself short of explaining what Morgoth did to him, that wasn’t his initial motivation for leaving you. You hadn’t considered that… You felt guilty suddenly, the festering wound was tempered momentarily. Slathered in the balm of reality, knowing that he was speaking from experience.

“You don’t know that Maitimo… We don’t know if he would’ve done such things to me.” You argued weakly, not quite ready to give as you looked up from the plate and napkin to look back over at him. There was a firmness in his expression, something knowing in his eyes as he began to nod slowly.

“Yes, Y/N. I do know what he would’ve done to you, and after finding out… I do not regret my decision to leave you behind.” There was something about the way he said it that made ice run through your veins, chilling you to your core. Knowing that Maitimo had some intimate encounter with the Dark Vala. How else would he know? You didn’t know all the details of your husbands fate in Beleriand, but you knew that he had failed in fulfilling the Oath.

And it did not seem as he was going to disclose those things to you for the moment. You supposed it could be a conversation for another day. It would be… You wanted to know all the deep dark and intimate details from him. Not the secondhand accounts from other Noldor or Sindar that came in through the Halls or through Sailing.

“That does not change that you chose your father over me, and rocks instead of staying.” You uttered, and Maitimo nodded his head at your words. Closing his eyes as he thought for a moment, you were right. He had, you were correct.

“You are right, I did...” Maitimo said in a soft voice, rubbing his leg before he reached for some tea. Smelling the chamomile and hoping it would help take the edge off of his nerves. Nerves that he was trying to hide, knowing this conversation would make or break what happened in your relationship. Losing you would be devastating…

You were quiet looking at him, finally having confirmation after all these years of wondering if he had… He had just offered it up. Readily for you and without hesitation. You couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief having expected to fight him on the matter, but all you could do was nod at his words.

“Do you regret it?” You asked, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. Expecting him to say no, because it would certainly tie in with his refusal to have let you come right? But there was a long moment of silence, only the sound of him taking a sip of his tea and the soft tinking of the cup hitting the saucer as he set it down.

“Yes… Every day since I took the Oath I have regretted choosing Atya over you.” He answered you, voice still soft and you looked up at him tearfully. It was what you hoped for, to know he regretted something in what he did. A tear slipped out, trailing down your cheek in a salty trail, but you brought a hand up to wipe it away.

“It is truly my biggest regret… knowing what I know now Y/N, if I could turn back the wheels of time, I would do everything differently. No matter the wrath incurred from my Atya and my inability to be “loyal” to him. Losing you, leaving you behind wasn’t worth any of it.” Maitimo explained to you, and you were silent as you sat there. Taking in all of his words, it was hard to argue with when there seemed to be genuine remorse in his voice. Not to mention he wasn’t fighting you about taking accountability for all that he did to you.

You moved to dig in your pockets for a handkerchief as the tears came in full force now. You hadn’t expected him to be so full of regret, you were expecting him to have justified all of his actions. Something that was usually apart of your husbands personality, even if he could admit he was wrong. How bad were things that he couldn’t find anything justifying in what he did?

It was your turn to fix yourself some tea, the two of you letting a silence fall over you both. Maitimo helping himself to the finger foods on the table while you fixed your tea, before you took generous gulps from it. Hoping to soothe your nerves, the momentum of your anger having come to a grinding halt. In fact it felt as though it had all dissipated entirely, what was there to be angry about anymore?

As you rested your hand on the table, suddenly you felt Maitimo’s come and cover yours hesitantly for a moment and you quietly looked at his hand there. You took a shaky breath, you knew now you didn’t want a divorce from him. You loved him, you wanted him… But still you were hurt regardless of the answers he gave you. You still needed time, things were better. But he still needed to earn your trust back.

“I can’t… Not yet.” You said softly pulling your hand from his, and when you looked up at him, Maitimo simply nodded. Seemingly not taking offense at it, silence still fell over the pair of you as you sat there, thinking on what to say. There was a flicker of hope in Maitimo’s chest at the words, not yet. So divorce wasn’t on your mind? But he only held his breath, you could still be thinking of it, he’d wait for you to confirm it.

“I need time, Maitimo.” You said softly, “It still hurts, I am still hurt by what you’ve done… Things can’t go back to that normal.” Because it was clear to you that normal didn’t work. If it did work then Maitimo would have never have left you alone in Valinor.

“I don’t want a divorce, I still want to be with you and I still love you Mai..” You grew teary eyed again, holding eye contact with his pale blue ones so he knew you meant it. You didn’t want Maitimo to question the validity of your words, but it only made the flickering of hope in his chest begin to bloom. It was better news than he knew what to do with.

“Then we will take it at your pace, Y/N, I won’t push you.” He assured you and you nodded at his words, relieved that he agreed to your terms. Finally it felt like things were slowly and steady falling into place, even you felt hopeful that things would get better. That not all was as lost and hopeless as they had been before.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @anunexpectedsideblog @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @sleepyamygdala

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stevesnailbat · 2 years

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No you're so right it was confirmed in s2 she emotionally cheated on him for a year and never truly wanted him bc she had eyes for Jonathan since the the beginning. (And I'm tired for being called a misogynist for calling out Nancy's cheating and Steve deserved better than that)

sorry i'm going to be using this ask as a place for my opinion on this now so <3 thx for the ask xoxox

i am a firm believer that nancy has never known what she wants and that she needs to be single to fully find herself before she can ever get back into any kind of romantic relationship. from how she treated steve in the past and how she showed her true colors to jonathan in s3/s4, it just shows me that she really only craves control in her life and she loves the fact that both of them are easily manipulated because of familial issues and whatnot. she needs to sort herself out before trying to change her partners to her liking!!

i think that in s1, she loved the affection she was getting from steve and at one point, she loved the idea of being safe by sticking with a rich guy who could give her a nice life, so she stayed with steve under the guise that she could "love" him. she loved that she could be comfortable and that she wouldn't have to worry about her future too much, she never really loved steve specifically. AND once jonathan called her out for being like everyone else, she started to actually hate everything about her relationship with steve because of spite and her desire to break away from the life she grew up in. the slow emotional torture she puts steve through is so painful to watch because i honestly don't know if she's doing it intentionally or if it's just the way she is.

the fact that steve was truly under the impression that he was a shitty boyfriend just goes to show that whatever was happening in their relationship had been going on for a looooong time and that he’d been feeling inadequate for a while. she easily could’ve broke up with him after the whole s1 ordeal and i honestly think things would’ve been okay and steve would’ve been understanding but the fact that she drug it out for so damn long makes me so upset because he was good to her after everything!!! yes steve has his flaws too but the times that he lashed out were (imo) within some realm of reason. whereas she seems to get upset every time something doesn’t go her way in the slightest

regardless of if we’re talking about steve or jonathan with her, i think nancy's desire for control and individuality is killing her personality and every relationship that she's involved in <3 and remember. it’s ok if people criticize your favs because sometimes they fucking deserve it , don’t come for me on this <3 xoxo

#don’t even get me started on the other nancy ship………#asks #anon #am i going to get killed for this

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mejomonster · 1 year

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Jin Mi from Ashes of Love, Xuanji from Love and Redemption, and Tantai Jin could all start a club about how it’s going having no emotion growing up

Jin Mi: was going great, excellent, until her friend went missing. Was still doing great, gender didn’t matter to Jin Mi and neither did ridiculous romance, but the people around her SURE thought it SHOULD matter so. ;-; it’s not going great for our babe.

Xuanji: doing AMAZING. she WAS bullied for the no feelings thing, and also nearly frozen to death, but her dad does love both his daughters AND xuanji’s sister babies her AND she’s got a shixiong looking out for her, AND a very sweet demon boy becomes her friend and is very willing to help her too. So a lot of her bad times (at least before the plot’s rolling) are more to do with her willing to suffer Endlessly for friends. she is bullied but like... when her sister ling long is intent to kill the bullies there’s only so much damage they can do, with ling long there to attack them and try and comfort xuanji after in her abrasive way. Xuanji also has quite a knack for accumulating friends anyway, which also helps. perhaps the worst part of the whole ordeal is mr. Abusive Controlling Gaslighting ex-from-another-life Bai Lin creeping around and STILL trying to control her, and the lack of emotions make it just that Bit extra hard to notice the red flags he’s throwing off and recognize the way she’s getting trapped.

Tantai Jin: honestly would’ve maybe done alright (i’m only in ep 4 though lol) if only bitches hadn’t CONSTANTLY wanted to harm him. Dad blamed him for his mom’s death and that’s not fair, so starvation and bullying here they come. The Jin palace likewise were just DICKS because to be mean to Tantai Jin was to do what the king would be happy with, then he got traded as a hostage where YET AGAIN the king would appeased if he’s suffering since he’s a hostage. So everywhere the poor kid went people wanted to beat him for status perks. Then to top it all off, poor kid can’t cry just like xuanji, and that made one of his maid caretakers think of him as a monster instead of just different (which sure didn’t help), that made the people beating him feel they could keep beating him hoping for more of a reaction, and just ;-; He seems like if he’d been given ANY friend or nice sibling, like xuanji, he would’ve probably did fine. But he didn’t have anyone on his side from like the one maid leaving onward to until he got his crow friend so. :c To top things off? Of COURSE he attached to Xiao Lin, the first ORDINARY person treating him NORMAL. And Xiao Lin had the status to make punching Tantai Jin not worth the social benefit of doing so. I would like the acquaintance friendship/admiration/parallels but differences explored more (both princes but one can feel and one cant, one has a mom who’s favored and one is an orphan whos hated, one seems to do only good in society’s eyes while the other can’t do ‘good’ even if he behaves the same). I really like the idea to parallel these two. I love this kind of writing. I’m also thinking... Xuanji could’ve been quite similar to him given the same childhood situation (and vice versa he probably would’ve turned out quite heroic and sweet if he’d had steadfast close emotional connections growing up like xuanji).

#tteotm #love and redemption #lb #also no im never gonna be over how lol i was hoping for an aromantic hero journey for ashes of lov #where jun mi searches for her friend and ignores romance and ignores gender mostly #(loved her nonbinary hinting until the show shamed her for not wearing dresses or looking fancy)#and when it veered obviously Away from that my heart started hurting but i knew it was coming

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neobubz · 2 years

Text

✖ Quiet Down Pt. 8 (M) ✖

☆ okay, hi everyone! this story is a renjun x fem reader x haechan story. please look at the pairings to figure out who the part/chapter will be based around. also, the warnings will be based off each part/chapter as well, so please take notice to that too. i hope you enjoy the story! ☆

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 Word Count: approx. 9.2k Pairings (based on each part): fem reader x haechan x renjun feat. charlotte and sasha Warnings (based on each part): explicit language Preview: “Get out!” You shout standing your ground. “What?!” “Get out of my room!” “This is as much my room as it is yours since I helped you win it when you were oh, I forgot…fucking around with Haechan!” Long gone is the filter you were trying to keep over your mouth. Long gone is the woman who knows how to treat the people she loves. In her place is a spiteful woman who is set on making sure the person insulting her knows exactly what it feels like if not more!

✖———————–✖

Needless to say, Charlotte’s knowing smirk as she helps you with your hair tells you everything you need to know. When Haechan, Renjun, and yourself disappeared after the others left the elevator, she knew exactly what she was going to find when she came back up to your room to collect her belongings. Twisted up like a pretzel, the three of you slept soundly with the bed sheet barely covering your torsos. Not knowing that Charlotte and Sasha had entered the room, or we even coming upstairs – you were left to your dreams when Sasha’s yelp of surprise woke Renjun who freaked out making Haechan and yourself sit up in surprise.

Moments passed between the five of you. Renjun apologizing profusely, but the smirk on Haechan’s face made it clear as day he was proud of what had happened. He finally got to be with you in the most intimate way possible. A dream he’s had since his feelings for you developed all those years ago. According to Sasha the three of you had been sleeping for about two hours thanks to Charlotte who suggested to everyone else that it’d be best to let the three of you have some alone time. However, it would’ve been nice of her to at least sent a text saying to make yourselves decent that they were on their way up.

Not only was it embarrassing to be caught in bed with two men by Sasha and Charlotte, but Sasha’s yelp alarmed Jaemin and Jeno who were waiting out in the sitting room – only for them to charge into the bedroom to discover you in Renjun’s arms, the sheet covering your entire body — along with Haechan and Renjun’s lower halves. They were speechless while their eyes went from one person to the next taking in the scene before them. Their stares as if you were a new species has you wondering if at some point you will need to explain what had happened.

“Was it good?” Charlotte teases.

“Really? You’re asking me that?” You snap.

The whole ordeal was embarrassing. Not wanting anyone to know exactly what happened with your tryst with Haechan and Renjun you ended up getting caught after getting yourself fucked to sleep! Exhaustion taking over you the moment you were able to relax. Renjun and Haechan following shortly after. Lord only knows what Sasha thinks, let alone Jaemin and Jeno.

Sliding your shirt over your head you give yourself a once over before turning to leave the bathroom. Sasha and Charlotte agreed to help you clean yourself up per Renjun’s request. Your hands still raw from the ropes on the first day. Having your two besties help you was a hell of a lot less embarrassing than it was with the guys, but still embarrassing since Charlotte snickered at every bruise, hickey, and signs of what happened between the three of you. Now, nice and fresh in a pair of denim capris and a plain white tee you can get some food in you.

When you turn to leave the room, in the doorway standing silent, is Sasha. Twiddling her fingers nervously, a habit she displays when there is something weighing on her mind. Knowing exactly what it is that has her so anxious you approach her carefully.

“Sasha, I’m sorry. You told me to be careful and I went and —"

Holding up her hand she stops you. “What I said was about my experience. It doesn’t equal or compare to what you are going through.”

“Still, you told me how hurt you were. Yet,” you sigh. “I just…I think I’m falling in love with them, Sasha. I’ve never felt so magnetically attracted to two people before. If they were one person —" you shake your head. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

Snorting Sasha wraps a reassuring arm around your waist, “in more ways than one…”

Laughing Charlotte walks into the room a lightness in her steps. “Can’t believe you were up here fucking Renjun AND Haechan,” she cackles. “I mean when we turned around looking for you guys and you weren’t there, I had my suspicions, but to find the three of you snuggled up to each other,” she wipes the tears from her eyes. “That was too good. Almost didn’t want to ruin the moment. By the way,” she holds up her phone. “Totally took a picture for you!” She winks. “Should I send it to you so you can reminisce on this moment in your golden years?”

“What the hell, Charlotte! You took a picture!”

Snatching her phone, you quickly send the picture to yourself, delete the photo permanently then delete the message – making sure there is no way in hell that she can have a copy. Shoving her phone back to her, you stomp your way into the bedroom seeing the bed has since been made. Looking around you expect to find Haechan, Renjun, and the others, but the suite is silent.

“Oh, the guys are gone. Jeno and Jaemin headed out into town to pick up some snacks for our slumber party,” Charlotte brushes past you giving your ass a little smack. “Haechan and Renjun went down to get something to eat and said they’ll bring you up something.” Grabbing your hands gently she starts jumping up and down. “Now come on, DETAILS!” She squeals.

“Charlotte!” Sasha groans. “This is a serious matter.”

Scoffing Charlotte grabs your forearm tugging you into the small living space. Sitting you down on the couch she takes a seat next to you twitching with excitement. Her office crush sleeping with her best friend. Her mind is probably doing a hell of a better job at creating the version of what happened better than the actual version.

“I never thought you had it in you girl! Not one man but two! How were they? Who was better? What is Haechan like in bed? Is he just as insatiable as he looks?” She groans shaking you. “TALK TO ME WOMAN!!!”

“Charlotte!” Sasha shouts. “This is serious! We need to talk about what just happened.”

“Why? She fucked two guys? So what? Not like we haven’t had a threesome before in our pasts. What’s the big deal?”

“She likes them!” Sasha yells.

“Of course she does,” Charlotte looks at the two of you blankly. “Your point? Who wouldn’t like them? Haechan is the wild card and Renjun is Mr. Perfect. Now that you’ve gotten to know them a little and fucked them both, who do you like more? What’s the verdict?”

“For goodness sake’s,” Sasha leans back rubbing her head. “She likes them equally, Charlotte. There is not one person over the other. Equal!”

Charlotte holds your hands in hers, brows knitted together. “Wait…what is she talking about? You can’t possibly be in love with both of them, right?”

“Love,” you sigh. “Love is a strong word, Charlotte…”

Though you already know it to be the word that describes how you’re feeling. How Renjun looked into your eyes after the two of you made love and what Haechan was trying to express while confessing that he hated your past relationships, was love. But you couldn’t possibly tell Charlotte. She wouldn’t understand how you were feeling. Her rant yesterday about people being in a relationship with more than one person the main piece of evidence that she would not support or tolerate your relationship at all — if by a miracle it be that you do get to have your cake and eat it too.

“But you have fallen in love with them. I can see it in your eyes,” she shakes her head. “You can’t be serious. What happened to Renjun? I thought you liked him! I thought he was everything and then some?!”

“I like him a lot! I don’t want to use the L-word because the last time I used that word I ended up getting dumped!” Tears start to come to your eyes. “I like them both Charlotte! Like so much it’s tearing me apart because tomorrow is our last day. Someone could possibly get hurt and if I end up hurting either of them it will kill me! I don’t want to hurt anyone! I know what that’s like far too much, but I can’t see myself picking one over the other. I can’t! I’ll always want the other one too.”

Standing up Charlotte moves away from you. “What are you saying? You want to keep both of them for yourself?! What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of relationship would that be like? What would our co-workers think? Our boss! Your parents! Their parents! Are you still on cloud nine because you had a good fuck from the drought you were in?!”

“A drought?!”

You stand as we’ll rage coursing through your veins. How could she possibly say that? You are best friends! She knew how much Marcus meant to you and how hurt you were. Thinking he was your one and only, only to have the rug ripped out from underneath you. How many tears you cried in front of her and in the privacy of your own room. Your roommate getting so worried she called Charlotte and Sasha begging them to get you out of the house before you made yourself sick.

He was supposed to be the one. Hell! Richard was supposed to be for you too, but no! She showed up looking fine as hell and that was that. He didn’t even try to hide the fact he was attracted to her. Not being interested in him whatsoever you didn’t care. Rarely have you brought up the fact that she in essence ‘stole’ Richard from you — because she is your friend! A friend you thought would never speak to you like this!

A good fuck is a good fuck but to think she has the idea of you being wrapped around their dicks because you weren’t out fucking every guy left and right is beyond absurd!

“Yes! A drought! You’ve been without a man for so damn long that the first two men that show you any type of attention you get wrapped up in your feelings,” she looks at you in disgust. “You had a nice fuck. Now it’s time to get your head out of your ass and think straight! You can’t have them both! That isn’t how life works! You are in a relationship with one person and one person only! That’s it! So, grow the hell up and choose!”

“Get out!” You shout standing your ground.

“What?!”

“Get out of my room!”

“This is as much my room as it is yours since I helped you win it when you were oh, I forgot…fucking around with Haechan!”

Long gone is the filter you were trying to keep over your mouth. Long gone is the woman who knows how to treat the people she loves. In her place is a spiteful woman who is set on making sure the person insulting her knows exactly what it feels like if not more!

“Admit it,” you smirk arms crossing over your chest. “You’re jealous because you can’t fuck Haechan yourself! Ever since you’ve been at the company you’ve harbored feelings for him. Why didn’t you go up to him and ask him out? Charlotte the one in our little trio who acts like she’s some confident badass but she couldn’t even ask the company’s flirt out on a date. Just drooling over a man that you could have had but didn’t have the guts to go after. But since I’ve gone and had him you want all the details despite being a married woman. What, Richard not satisfying you enough? Do you need to fantasize about another man so early on?”

“You bitch!” Charlotte raises her hand to slap you but Sasha steps in grabbing her hand.

“You’ve been pushing me this whole time to try things out! To see what happens! Because you want me to tell you all the sorted details so you can live vicariously through me! You did this Charlotte! You caused all of this! If it wasn’t for you, I would have just spent my weekend happily exploring the lake with Renjun, hanging out with you guys and just relaxing. You’re the one who pushed me to do things!”

Charlotte throws her head back a maniacal laughter emitting from her. “Are you insane? I did this?! How the fuck did I do this?! You’re the one who gave Haechan a hand job on the bus! You’re the one who made out with Renjun. You’re the one who fooled around in the bathroom of this damn hotel with Haechan and Renjun. You’re the one who fooled around with them in the bathroom in the next room and you’re the one who FUCKED BOTH OF THEM! How the fuck did I have anything to do with any of this?!

“Don’t blame me for choices you made on your own! I did not force your hand at all. I did not tell you to fool around with Haechan. You did that all on your own. I told you to talk to Renjun not have your tongue down his throat and I certainly didn’t tell you to fool around in the bathroom while Renjun and I were worried sick and working our asses off to win the suite for you. But according to you, I did all of this. You need to get a reality check!

“You know what,” she waves her hands in the air turning from you and Sasha. “I’m done! When you get your heart broken again don’t come crying to me! I won’t be around to lend you a shoulder to cry on!”

“Charlotte, c’mon…” Sasha rushes over to the entrance of the hallway where Charlotte shoves what she can into her overnight bag. “We need to be here for her, okay? Stop this…”

“No! I’m not going to be here and watch my friend act like a dumbass!”

“She’s not being a dumbass! You’re not giving her a chance to explain herself. So just put your bag down and listen to her…”

“I’m not going to listen to my friend who thinks it’s okay to date two people. It’s gross and disgusting! Hell, hooking up with someone you just met not even a week prior is gross and disgusting now that I think about it!”

“Charlotte…”

Sasha exhales deeply her shoulders slumping forward defeated. There was no getting through to her. Whenever Charlotte would get this angry, all she saw was red. No one, not even Richard would be able to get her to see another side to the story as long as she was a raging bull.

Placing a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder Sasha bends down to her ear. “I’ll meet you down in your room shortly. I have something I need to talk to you about but until then, try to calm down, okay?”

Turning on her heels Charlotte heads for the door ripping it open. “Whatever.” She sneers before disappearing.

The moment Charlotte disappears from your sight everything that just occurred between the two of you comes rushing back. How could you have said that about her? She was in love with Richard. Yes, she has a crush on Haechan but she had a crush on him even before Richard came about. It was his own damn fault that his promiscuity made her not want to take a chance with him. Bouncing from woman to woman trying to charm them didn’t exactly make Haechan the ideal choice at the office.

But the things she said about you…she overstepped by leaps and bounds. It was not stupid to have fallen in love with more than one person. It was not stupid to see that Haechan and Renjun have amazing qualities about themselves that if they were one complete person, they would be your ideal type and the man that you would surrender yourself to. But they are two separate people.

Haechan, from the moment you first talked to him has always been a flirt. He’s always made you roll your eyes or lightly smile in some shape or form. When he would walk up to you like a human peacock, he was always sweet. Granted, now you know why you never got the full experience of Lee Haechan. He has been harboring feelings for you for a long time. Exactly how long, you still don’t know. But long enough to have resented the men that you let into your life. Perhaps the very reason for his mischievous behavior that ever woman in the office has seen, talked about, or witnessed at some point.

His feelings for you growing so much that he actually inserted himself into the friendship you would have mostly gotten from spending time with Renjun.

Desperate is the term you would use to describe him. A desperation for him to make his one and only plead for your heart. With Renjun as his friend he was taking a huge leap of faith. Renjun and Haechan are just as close if not closer than you and Sasha and Charlotte. From the moment Renjun started working at the company, Haechan has been there for him. He’s helped him get accustomed to how things are run — even personally taking him around the office introducing him to people, however, staying clear of yourself, Charlotte, and Sasha, for obvious reasons.

And Renjun, you are still unaware of a lot of things regarding him, but from the moment he walked up to you to when he just fucked you with so much love and passion — there is no denying that he has a kind heart. He’s gentle and thinks of others over himself. What he agreed to let Haechan do this morning most likely took a lot out of him. He probably wants to say he loves you but can’t because it’s far too early. Things could go wrong and having uttered those three words, ‘I love you,’ would make the breakup far worse than if one kept those three words to themselves.

So, for him to even agree to allow Haechan a chance to have his way with you just shows how genuinely kind he is and how strong their bond is.

And you’re supposed to choose between these two men? How?

Tears pour down your face. Exhaustion kicking in. Fatigue from thinking about your relationship with Renjun and Haechan. Fatigue over your fight with Charlotte. Fatigue from the unexpected ‘breakfast’ you received and fatigue from literally not having an ounce of food since you woke up.

The only thing you want to do is crawl back into bed, cry yourself back to sleep and hope that this is just some terrible dream and you never said those things to Charlotte and she never said those things to you.

“Hun…” Sasha gasps rushing to you her arms wrapping around you tightly in a warm embrace. “Look, you know Charlotte,” she tries to calm you. “She’s a hot head. She’ll scream, rage for a little, punch a pillow then realize how stupid she was and apologize.”

Shaking your head, you cling to Sasha for dear life. “No, she won’t. Not after what I said to her. What I said was horrible, Sasha. How could I say those things?”

“Because you were mad, silly. Everyone says shitty things when they’re upset. The only thing that is important is that you realized that what you said was hurtful. Now all you need to do is give her some time to cool off and the two of you can hug it out and get over this little bump in the road.”

“What if she doesn’t f-forgive me? What will I do?”

Silence stretches for what feels like hours between the two of you. In her heart of hearts Sasha knows that the two of you will be friends again, but even she can’t deny the repulsive things the two of you said to each other could be the final straw to break up the trio. Over the years all three of you have had spats but this was a fight. A vicious angry hateful fight. Wrapping her arms around you even tighter she strokes your hair soothingly.

“She’ll forgive you. I know she will…”

✖-----------------------✖

The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Since leaving the suite where you were getting ready for a bath – Sasha and Charlotte taking care of you, the energy between Renjun and Haechan has been buzzing with unfamiliarity and uncertainty. On the way down to Haechan’s room where they decided they would shower and change into some fresh clothes silence settled between them. Jeno and Jaemin trying to talk about everything in the world other than what happened up in the luxury suite.

Not even Jeno and Jaemin could have predicted that the three of you would have wound up in bed together. Sure, having their way with you individually but never ‘together.’

Now that there is no one around to keep the silence at bay, it feels even heavier between the two of them. What in the world happened this morning? Sure, they planned to have had a little fun with you. That’s what the plan was after heading back to Jeno and Jaemin’s room when the small hike was called off. The pictures you sent them stirring something inside both Renjun and Haechan. Something they had felt the whole time they were with you, neither able to put those feelings into action. Well, aside from Haechan, but even then, something or someone got in the way.

The plan was to make you beg for forgiveness and possibly if you were into it, fooling around. Renjun, taking things into his own hands just a few hours ago shocked not only you but Haechan. Never seeing his friend look so desperate in his life made his gut wrench. Renjun had strong feelings for you. Feelings that you seem to reciprocate and the kiss you two shared in the elevator tore his heart in two. Would he be able to handle seeing you happy with his best friend?

On the other side of the elevator, back pressed against the wall, Renjun goes over the events of this morning. This trip he had thought long and hard for those couple of days before you would leave to come to lake ruined by the events that happened. Wanting to talk to you badly he thought of everything you could do. Going on a hike, swimming or fishing at the lake – all to get to know each other better. Since he arrived at the company you’ve been the only person, he’s felt any feelings for. The other women were nice and always treated him respectfully, especially after Haechan’s marvelous introductions – but when he asked about you, Haechan just said he doesn’t talk to you much so he doesn’t know you at all.

The mysterious woman that not even Lee Haechan knew, or so he thought. Scoffing internally everything made sense. Why Haechan didn’t introduce the two of you, why he challenged him to talk to you – he was secretly in love with you from afar. The bet Haechan gave him was because he didn’t think he had the nerve to speak to you. You drawing his name was by pure luck, or perhaps the world putting the two of you together. Saying that this was destined to happen. Or, to cause a rift between Haechan and himself.

Being able to experience the most vulnerable state two people can have together, with you – it was a dream come true to Renjun. How many times he’s thought about talking to you, what it would be like to spend time with you, get to know you; even date you – but there he was, inside you while you cried out for him. It felt surreal.

When Haechan took his turn with you, how you crumbled underneath him, he could never. He was different than Haechan.

The way he man handled you. Talked dirty to you…Renjun knew it would take a long time before he was remotely close to doing anything like that — even so, not without your permission. Glancing up he finds Haechan holding onto the small bag of food they picked up for you while he holds the bag of drinks. You seemed to have enjoyed your time with Haechan a lot, was he the better choice?

“Y-You, uh, think she’ll like this?” Haechan speaks up breaking the silence.

Looking into the bag of drinks, a can of coffee, lemon tea, orange juice, Coca Cola, and water he nods. “I mean we picked out a good variety. I’m sure she’ll like something.”

“Mmm…even after all these years working with her, I felt lost trying to think of what to bring up.” He scratches the back of his neck.

“Considering this trip is the most you’ve talked to her, how were you supposed to know?” Renjun asks.

Shrugging Haechan lets out a deep sigh. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know. Ever since we left the room with Jeno and Jaemin you’ve been eerily quiet.”

“We were caught in bed naked, with the same girl! How would you expect for me to act?!”

Laughing Haechan smiles, “elated!”

“You’re a fucking moron sometimes,” Renjun cracks a smile.

“I’m being serious. You can’t tell me that you never fantasized about what it would be like with her. C’mon tell me, was it better in your head or in real life?” He wiggles his brows.

“Well in my fantasy you weren’t part of the equation.” Renjun smirks.

Waving off the small joke, Haechan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah so what was better fantasy or reality?”

“Of course reality!” Renjun’s face starts to redden. “It was better than I could have ever imagined. Hearing her moaning. Seeing her…” his voice trails off embarrassment sweeping in. “Like that,” he clears his throat. “Was amazing.”

“She looked so beautiful,” Haechan smiles softly. “Body glistening in sweat, eyes clouded over from the good fucking we were both giving her. Wish I could see her like that 24/7.”

“I think she and yourself would die if you had sex 24/7. But yeah, I know what you mean.”

“It wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be. I mean when we were talking about it everything was in theory. Then you went all Tarzan on her.”

Renjun’s hands go up to cover his face. “I don’t know what in the hell came over me. I just saw her and the only thing I wanted to do was —"

“Fuck her.”

“Honestly, yes. I don’t know if it’s because of what we talked about or the fact that she looked cute with her oversized shirt and shorts and not seeing her yesterday was just as excruciating for me as it was for you but I couldn’t control myself. That’s never happened before.”

“And how was it?”

“Felt amazing…”

Smirking Haechan walks across the elevator to stand next to his friend. “You should try that more often it won’t come as a shocker and you’ll have more control over yourself and you can really make someone come undone before you even slide in to home plate.” He nudges Renjun’s shoulder. “You get it?” He winks playfully.

“Ha ha ha very funny.”

“Seriously though, what the fuck are we going to do when the weekend ends? I mean, it’s not like we can both have her.”

“I don’t know…everything just happened so fast. We barely got a chance to really know her. We just went straight to sex.”

“What if she picks one of us, what is that going to do to our friendship? Would you still want to be friends if she picks me?”

Renjun looks up shocked. Yes. This is what he was afraid of. That somehow despite everything that’s happened. Despite the kindness he’s shown you, you would choose Haechan over him. The moment he saw the two of you sitting together on the bus his heart sank to his stomach. The idea that his friend and the woman he has been crushing on since he came to the company dating! It left a sour taste in his mouth. Could he still manage to be friends with Haechan after putting his heart out to you on a silver platter — only to lose out at the end.

It might sound selfish to say he would not want to be friends after that but could anyone blame him? The prospect of seeing the person you like with someone else — laughing, smiling, kissing, and hugging. That’s pure torture to sit next to them or beside them and appear happy — when your heart is being stepped on again and again.

But to end his friendship with Haechan is something he doesn’t want to do. Haechan’s been his best friend from the moment he walked into the building. Literally striking up a conversation with him on the elevator the first day he arrived. To think that over a woman he would lose someone he considers a brother is unfathomable but here he is — thinking exactly that.

“Would you still want to be friends with me if she chose me over you?” Renjun asks Haechan.

“I’d resent you for a long time.”

Shocking on his saliva Renjun stares at his friend wide-eyed. Not thinking Haechan would be that blunt but then again it is Haechan. He’s never been one for subtlety.

“I may not want to talk to you or hang around you for a while. It might seem childish but a man has his pride, y’know? I’d feel like a third wheel the whole time. Plus, I’ve already lived through the pain of seeing her with other men. If I saw her with you —" he sighs deeply. “I’m sorry but it would hurt too much. It wouldn’t be forever, at least I hope not. Just until I got over her and found someone else.”

“I get it,” Renjun looks down to the floor of the elevator. “I feel the same way.”

“We should have hung out more on this trip,” Haechan jokes. “Because at the end of this it may be a long time before we actually hang out with each other.”

“Y-Yeah…”

The elevator doors open up on the top floor. Both Haechan and Renjun step forward to leave, but what they find has them halting immediately. Charlotte with tears pouring down her cheeks. Nose and eyes red from crying. Her bag barely missing the ground as it sways back and forth in her hand from her wailing. The moment her eyes meet Renjun and Haechan she bursts out into more tears — her bag falling to the floor at her side.

“Ch-Charlotte?!” Renjun rushes forward. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“It’s all your fault!” She glares at Haechan who’s frozen in the elevator. “You’re the one who caused all of this!”

“M-Me?!” He gulps. “What did I do?”

Stepping away from Charlotte and Renjun, Haechan holds up his hands as if to say don’t shoot. The doors start to close and with cat-like reflexes Charlotte trudges forward, grabbing her bag and pushing Haechan farther into the elevator. Trapping him inside. Pressing the button she seals his fate, but with a moments notice he tosses the bag of food he bought for you to Renjun.

“I’ll be up in a second,” he shouts just as the doors close.

✖-----------------------✖

Now inside the elevator with a tear-stained Charlotte, Haechan grows antsy. What did she mean that things were all his fault? He was away from you and the girls while he took a shower, changed, and got you some food. When he left the suite Charlotte was smirking like it was her job. Giving him looks up and down that read ‘can’t believe you did that, you dawg.’ In a sort of sweet way. Now she’s a raging lunatic who is keeping him hostage!

Crossing her arms tightly around her — a self-hug of reassurance or calming — nose and eyes red as a tomato, she keeps her death glare on him. Making the hairs on Haechan’s body stand on end. She was way beyond pissed, but what he did he doesn’t know. Everything was fine, or so he thought.

“Charlotte,” Haechan whispers holding out his hand in a non-threatening manner.

The moment he calls her name the tears stop. Her body goes from cowering to defense mode in a matter of seconds. Dropping her bag to the elevator floor she charges forward stopping the elevator completely. With the wag of her finger, she lets out everything.

“You stupid son of a bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you an idiot?! Why the fuck would you go and put yourself in your best friend’s relationship?! Huh?! Who the hell do you think you are? Do you want my best friend to end up alone? Are you even capable of maintaining any kind of relationship other than your bromance with Renjun? I mean what were you thinking? When we talked, you said you sort of liked her, not full blown I’m in love with her! Now she has this cockamamie idea that she can be with you both! Like what the fuck is wrong with her?

“That’s so disgusting! Honestly what the three of you did was a little out there but hey, I’m not going to judge someone’s sexual escapades because I’ve had a few of my own. I’m no saint, but the two of you barely know her. A blow job here, a hand job there okay, but SEX?! And not just you but Renjun as well! How the hell did that even happen?!

“Whose bright idea was that? Bet it was yours wasn’t it! Do you hate Renjun? How long have you known that he’s had feelings for her? Are you jealous or something? Seriously what the fuck is wrong with you Lee Haechan?!”

Haechan doesn’t say a word. The explosion of questions and insults hurled his way making his brain shut down. Why was she so angry at him? When he got miffed during the games, she encouraged him to make a choice — was he serious about you or not? Now that he has made a clear choice, she’s angry?

The idea of both Renjun and him having their way with you was a joint decision. On the way back down to the hotel after Renjun’s sulking about wanting to go hiking — you sending them the sexy pictures — Renjun himself said that something needed to be done. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant. Hell, just from looking at you topless Haechan was already growing hard, if his best friend liked you half as much as him, he knew he was affected by the picture too.

So, on the way back, Renjun stated loud and clear he did not want Haechan to fuck you before he got a chance. Why he was adamant about this, to this very second Haechan has no clue — but the prospect of still being able to fuck you even if it meant sloppy seconds — a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Proposing the overall idea, yes, was Haechan — Renjun would never have the nerve to speak what he truly wanted out loud so he did it for him.

But why is he alone getting the blame? Should Charlotte not give this speech to Renjun as well? What makes him the devil and Renjun the saint? He did insert himself into your life the first day when he sat next to you on the bus, but sex was the farthest thing on his mind that day.

All he wanted to do was talk to you. See where your mind was at in regards to a relationship because he put his foot in his mouth and kicked himself in the ass when he bet Renjun to talk to you. There was always this subtle sweet nature that Renjun has that makes most people like him — something Haechan had to fight for by being the ‘class clown.’

In no shape or form was he expecting you to flirt with him and well, do everything that was done. Even thinking back to the bus, he starts growing warm from the words you spoke to him. Wanting desperately to have you speak to him the way he spoke to you hours ago. Biting his bottom lip, a smirk comes to his face at the thought.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

“Wh-What?”

“I said are you even listening to what I’m saying? Are you going to take responsibility for what you’ve done?!”

“For what I’ve done? This is a two-way street! Well, more like a fork in the road — I didn’t make her do anything. I never forced her. If she wasn’t into it, I would have said ‘okay, that’s fine,’ and call it a day.”

“You’re such a whore, Haechan! You bounce from one girl to the next like they’re nothing. Now you have your eyes set on MY friend! You aren’t even serious about her! You like her, you’re jealous of Renjun but do you love her?! How long would it even last before you get bored of her and move onto the next person? Hmm?!”

“A whore? Who the fuck are you calling a whore?!” He steps forward making Charlotte back away from him until her back hits the wall of the elevator. “First and foremost, I am not a whore. I flirt, yes! I like attention, yes! Especially, if it’s from beautiful women. I do not sleep with people for the hell of it. I’m not some asshole who only thinks about getting his dick wet.

“Oh, and one more thing, I have been in love with your friend for a hell of a lot longer than Renjun has been working for this company! I get it. He’s nice, kind, charming, and sweet. He’s a true gentleman but there’s a side of him that you don’t know. He’s whiny and sulky and he gets pissed off by the tiniest things — even stopped talking to the guys and I for a couple of days because we teased him about something. It wasn’t even anything big but he got pissed and stopped talking. He also has a tendency to look at people as if they are complete imbeciles. Granted half the time the person probably deserved the look, but still!

“So please before you even think about judging me at least get to know Renjun COMPLETELY! Because he’s not perfect! I’m a dick for interfering yes, but I wasn’t honestly going to do anything on the bus with her except talk. That’s all I wanted. All I’ve ever wanted was to talk to her to make her see that I’m a decent guy and that I love her!”

Charlotte stares up at Haechan her body trembling tears silently pouring down her face. She couldn’t believe what he just said. He loved you? He can’t love someone he doesn’t know. That’s not how love works.

“You don’t love her,” she pushes him away from her. “You think you love her but you don’t.”

“Are you in the business of telling people what to say, think, and feel? Do you know what is going on inside my heart and mind?”

“Both of you are cut from the same fucking cloth,” she reaches over starting the elevator again. “You’re both going to end up alone.”

“Maybe we will but you can’t tell people what they want and how to live their life, Charlotte! Don’t you want her to be happy? What if it isn’t Renjun that will make her the happiest but me?”

Scoffing she rolls her eyes. “What, you’re going to fuck her every day of her life?”

“No. I want to go on dates with her. To have fun with her — no sexual undertones at all, I want to see her laugh and smile and know that it was because of me. To hold her and kiss her. To create memories with her. Then, if she wants to, I’ll fuck her into her next life.”

Snorting Charlotte wipes her tears away. “And what of your friendship with Renjun?”

Shrugging Haechan moves off to the side. “We won’t be friends for a while I guess.”

“Even if you both date her you won’t be friends?”

“Wait, what the —”

✖-----------------------✖

“I’ll talk to Charlotte when I get down to her room. I’m sure once she understands what’s going on she’ll cool off,” Sasha rubs over your back.

Sniffling you shake your head. Nothing is going to work. Charlotte never backs down from something she believes in. She’s stubborn as a mule once she’s set on an idea or belief until it is proven wrong — even then she still believes she right. You thinking about being with both Haechan and Renjun is a ridiculous idea. Through and through. Someone trying to balance not one person but two people in a single relationship sounds crazy. But that’s how you feel deep down inside. In your heart you know you can’t choose one man. That you’d rather be alone than be without Renjun or Haechan.

“She won’t listen,” you sniff pulling away from Sasha. “You know how she is.”

“Yes, I do, but if I tell her my experience —"

“No!! You can’t!” You blurt out scared for Sasha. This is something that she wanted to keep from you as well. A private matter that can change a person’s perspective on someone. If she was worried how you would take it — no doubt she is terrified to tell Charlotte.

“I WILL tell her,” she holds your hands in hers. “She needs to hear from someone who’s been through it. I’m not saying she will give you her blessings. She’ll probably call me an idiot for going through it in the first place but at least she’ll have some form of awareness as to what the relationship is and was like.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“You’re my best friend, both of you are my best friends and I don’t want to see you guys at odds. So, yes. I’m willing to tell her.”

Just then the door slams open hitting the wall with a loud bang. Making both you and Sasha jump up. Rushing into the living room Renjun’s eyes are wide with concern, breathing heavily he heads straight to you. Skidding to a stop on his knees he holds your hands in his worried sick.

“Are you okay? What happened? Charlotte was crying and she took Haechan hostage!”

“She took him hostage?!” Tears start springing to your eyes again. “Sa-Sasha~” your lips tremble.

“I’ll go see what’s going on and send you a text later, okay? Renjun take care of her.”

“I will.” He sits down next to you on the couch, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Sasha grabs her things giving both you and Renjun one final wave before leaving to go to the lion’s den. The moment the door closes behind her Renjun shifts so he can see you properly.

“What the hell is going on? Why is Charlotte so mad at Haechan?”

“We had a fight.” You shrug.

“A fight? About what?”

“The two of you.”

“Is it because of what happened earlier today? Look I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that to you at all. It was sort of a joint idea but I was the one thinking about it mostly but then Haechan —"

Placing your index finger over Renjun’s lips you politely tell him to shut up. When he becomes silent you lower your hand sighing. “Renjun, have you ever been in love before?”

Sitting up straight his body becoming rigid he turns from you. “I, uhhh, well, no?” He peeks over at you. “I mean yes! Wait. Not really, but…yes?” He searches your face for an answer. “With you I feel —"

“Not involving me. In the past have you ever been in love?”

“No.” He says blankly. “Never.”

Nodding you inhale and exhale deeply trying to calm your erratically beating heart. “What would you do if you fell in love with more than one person?”

“First I’d like to know who those people are because I’ve barely liked anyone enough to think about the prospects of love,” he chuckles. “Y-You’re the first person I’ve truly felt strong feelings for,” he rubs his thumbs over your hands gingerly. “Why are you asking?”

“I just found out that a friend of mine liked someone a lot, they were in love with them. The person they were in love with loved them back but then ended up loving someone else too. Their love for my friend didn’t fade but they wanted to be open and honest and say that they loved someone else too.

“My friend went along with it because they truly were in love and everything seemed fine until the third party wanted to bring in a fourth party. That’s when my friend said they needed to leave and ended up losing not one but two people they truly loved.”

“That’s, umm, I’m not sure if I understand completely. They were in love with someone?” You nod. “Then the person they were in love with loved someone else?” Again, you nod. “But they still dated the person? Sounds like a weird way for a cheater to have their cake and eat it too,” he chuckles nervously.

“My friend said they were in a polyamorous relationship.”

“Poly what?”

“A relationship where you know from the beginning there is going to be more than one person involved.”

“Oh,” he shifts in his seat looking his body looking uncomfortable. “Wow… I’ve never heard of that. And your friend was happy?”

Nodding you smile gently. “They said they ended up liking the person their original lover brought in. Also, with not many clues, I’m sure the sex was amazing too.” You wink towards Renjun who laughs.

“Wait! Was it Charlotte?! Is that why she was crying?”

“Hell no! Charlotte says that type of relationship is stupid and anyone thinking about it is stupid. I got mad because she doesn’t know what my friend went through and was disrespecting them and she sort of brought up you and Haechan. Renjun,” tears start to fall onto your cheeks. “I said such terrible things to her. I don’t know how she’ll ever forgive me. I was just so angry. I didn’t see anything but red. What am I going to do? She’s my best friend.”

Wrapping you in a tight embrace Renjun rocks you back and forth in his arms. “Everything will be fine. The two of you are best friends like you said. You think Haechan and I haven’t fought? We fight every other day it seems,” he tries to make you laugh but all you do is cry harder. “Things will work out in the end. I know they will.”

Pulling away from him you cry harder. “No, it won’t. We were both horrible to each other. Sh-She hates me now. I know she does! She told me not to come crying to her when I end up with a broken heart. Why would she say that if she didn’t mean it?”

“Because she was angry,” he wipes away your tears. “You are a beautiful, smart, and wonderful person. Anyone would kill to be friends with you, but you know as well as I do that people say terrible things when they’re angry. That doesn’t mean the friendship is over. It just means you’re going to need to work hard to put it back together.”

“I miss her already…”

“Watch, by the time we leave the two of you will be thick as thieves again.”

The door is thrown open loudly scaring you for the second time today. Rushing into the room the same manner that Renjun came in, Haechan’s eyes are wild. Hair disheveled he ignores Renjun’s questions of how Charlotte is doing — kneels in front of you grabbing your hands from Renjun’s into his own.

“Tell me with your own words. Do you love both of us?”

Fear passes through you like an apparition in a haunted mansion. Charlotte was that pissed that she blabbed everything to Haechan?! How could she do this?! Why would she do this?! She knows how long it’s been for you to give anyone a chance. Love is something that is precious to you. A word that shouldn’t be used unless you 100% mean it. And yet…

“Tell me!” Haechan shouts startling you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Renjun slides his arm around your waist keeping you close to him. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”

“Yes. I’m not blind, Renjun.”

“Well then why the hell are you yelling at her and making her feel worse?”

“Because Charlotte just told me she loves us both and wants to be with both of us!” He shouts then turns to you. “Is that true? Do you love us both? Do you want to be with both of us?”

Renjun’s body grows stiff next to you. Your blood chilling by the look in his eyes. The love and admiration he was looking at you with just seconds ago is already fading off into the distance. Why did Charlotte have to tell Haechan? Why couldn’t you have broken the news to him and Renjun yourself? Does she hate you so much now that she would do this on purpose?

“I-Is this tr-true?” Renjun gulps.

“I, I…” your lips start trembling.

Your eyes go back and forth from Haechan to Renjun and back to Haechan. How are you supposed to tell two men you barely know that you love them? Yes, you do. Your gut knows you do. Your brain and heart know that you do as well, but verbally saying those three, well four words is not a step you want to take right now.

“I…”

Sighing Renjun stands up holding out his hand. “Why don’t you get some more rest. You’ve been through a lot this morning. We brought up something for you to eat and drink,” he grabs the bags. “Come on,” he smiles softly. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

Haechan stares up at him with furrowed brows. “I asked her a question.” He presses.

“And she’ll answer us later.” Renjun glares. “Now come on,” he takes your hand into his. “Go eat, get some sleep and we’ll talk about everything when you wake up.”

“A-Are you sure?” You ask as he leads you to the bedroom.

“We’re not going anywhere. We’ll be here to talk when you wake up. Now eat up.” He gives your bottom a light slap as you enter the bedroom. “If you need anything just call for one of us, okay?”

Nodding you say thank you and he closes the door. Outside in the living room Haechan is two seconds from blowing up. Stomping over to Renjun he’s stopped immediately.

“Outside,” he points to the balcony.

Rolling his eyes, Haechan walks along-side Renjun to the balcony that you’ve neglected since you got to the hotel. Keeping the door ajar in case you call for them, Haechan and Renjun take a seat on the two chairs that surround a small table big enough for someone to eat their breakfast on.

“Explain,” Renjun sighs. “What’s up with this love business?”

“Charlotte told me that she likes not only you but me as well. Granted, she said love but until I hear it from her, I’ll only believe that she likes us. Charlotte also called me a whore amongst other things,” he growls. “But then she tells me that she not only likes us but wants to be with both of us. Like in a relationship. She ranted for another five minutes while the elevator went down to her floor.”

“So, she likes us?” Renjun smiles quickly before it vanishes. “That’s why she asked me that question,” he rubs his temples. “How did I not see this coming?”

“What question?”

“She asked me if I’ve ever been in love before and what I would do if I loved more than one person.”

Slumping in his chair Haechan runs a hand through his locks peering down at the lake. “We fucked up this relationship with her. I should have told her how I felt a long time ago. I should have also controlled myself on the bus and thereafter. I’m also sorry for betting you to talk to her. It was childish and I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“I’m no better,” Renjun mocks Haechan’s pose. “I hated how it seemed like you were looking down on me. I know you weren’t really and you were just joshing me but I hate to admit it, because of you, this has been one hell of a weekend. This morning was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Agreed,” Haechan laughs.

Silence starts to settle in between them. The elevator discussion weighing heavily on their minds. What if at the end of this one of them will end up alone. To think about you with the other has both of their hearts sinking to the pit of their stomachs. Glancing over at Renjun whose eyes are staring straight at Haechan a question hanging in the air that both are too afraid to ask the other.

Gulping Haechan sits up straight. After hearing everything from Charlotte a small speck of hope started to blossom in his chest. This was it. His way in to being with you. Not the ideal way but still, at the end of the day he could call you his. He could be with you and do everything he’s always wanted to do and then some. But then there is Renjun. What if he doesn’t want that kind of relationship. What if he wants you all to himself? Would you turn away from him to be with Renjun instead?

Breaking the silence Renjun shifts in his seat. “What if she does want to be with both of us?” He asks the question that’s been hanging between them. “How would you feel about that?”

☆ please like, reblog, and interact if you enjoyed this story! i would love to hear how you guys liked it! ☆

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PART 9

#haechan #renjun #haechan smut #renjun smut #lee haechan smut #huang renjun smut #lee donghyuk smut #nct dream smut #nct dream #nct smut #nct #nct dream fanfic #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic smut #nct smut fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut fanfic #neobubz fanfic #neobubz

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tact-and-impulse · 2 years

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Narumayo Week 2022 Day 5

Have I been thinking about this AU for over a whole year? ...Anyway.

Prompt: Family

…Where am I?

She doesn’t know. She feels tired and weak. Grating noise fills her ears, and she wants it to stop. She blindly moves her hands, searching through touch alone, and immediately, the noise worsens. Then, voices join in, calling for help. And at last, she hears her name.

Mia Fey opens her eyes.

It’s only for an instant, before sleep pulls her under again. But at the foot of her hospital bed, she sees a bright blue jacket.

***

By the time she recovers, the case has ended. Redd White will be in prison for attempting to murder her, an attempt that would’ve been successful if Phoenix hadn’t returned to the office. And the scumbag had the audacity to incriminate Maya. Her little sister’s had an ordeal, but nevertheless, she’s there to escort Mia out of the hospital. Her smile almost makes Mia forget her renewed worry about a different patient.

“I’m fine, Sis. Phoenix defended me in court.”

“Did he? I’ll have to thank him tonight.”

The party is only comprised of the three of them, plus Charley. They feast on gourmet burgers, and Mia receives the entire story from Phoenix and Maya. She’s listening but she also notices how comfortable they are around each other. She thought they’d get along, and she might have underestimated how well. Already, it’s like they’ve been friends for years.

Unfortunately, it’s the sole break they have for months. With the takedown, the office is in high demand. Mia is soon swamped with cases, and while she can always set aside a minute or two, Phoenix has to step up in his responsibilities.

Maya volunteers to assist him. “I can back him up! Don’t worry, two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

Ultimately, Mia doesn’t argue. Her sister deserves to explore the city like a normal teenager, to learn what life is like outside spiritual training. “Look after her, Phoenix.”

“Of course, Chief.”

It’s not until after Christmas and the unearthing of the DL-6 case, that she begins to suspect something. Maya’s tearful at the train station, but her mood lifts once Phoenix reminds her of the vital evidence she uncovered. And Mia notices that her face is noticeably pinker when they hug goodbye.

***

After enough of Maya’s calls mentioning Nick, Mia decides it’s time to broach the subject. “So…Phoenix.”

He visibly gulps. “Sorry, Chief. I meant to clean the bathroom earlier-”

“What? No, never mind the bathroom. I wanted to talk to you about Maya.”

Immediately, he perks up. “Is she alright?”

Huh. Interesting. He’s been moping since Maya left, not motivated to take on new cases. “She’s doing well. In fact, I was planning to visit her this weekend, since it’s only an hour by train. Do you want to come with me?”

“Sure! Wait…only an hour by train?”

“That’s right.” She smiles. “So, we can visit any time.”

Maya’s thrilled to hear they’re both coming, and in the background of her phone call, there’s rustling and thumping. “Oh, I have to clean my room! Nick will totally make fun of me.”

Mia can’t resist laughing. She’s way too obvious.

In Kurain Village, her guard is automatically up. Despite her presence, the elders stare at Phoenix, and when Maya cheerfully bounds out of the house, Mia distracts the group of old women. It’s also embarrassing that they assume she and Phoenix are a couple.

“He’s my subordinate.” She coolly says. “And a good friend to me and Maya. He saved us both.”

They may curl their lips and give nasty glares, but as long as Maya and Phoenix are happy, Mia doesn’t care. Maya provides an animated tour of the village, while he looks the best he has in weeks.

“Mystic Mia?”

The soft voice stops her and she turns to see her youngest cousin. Little Pearl, who’s sweet and kind and unlike the other women in her family. “Pearl, it’s been a while! You’ve gotten much taller. Goodness, you’ll outgrow me someday.”

Pearl gasps. “That’s not true, Mystic Mia! But it’s good to see you too. And, um, is that man Mystic Maya’s special someone?”

“…Special someone?”

She vigorously nods. “Mystic Maya talks about him all the time, that he’s brave like a knight in shining armor! And Mystic Maya is like a princess, so…so…!”

“Well,” Mia stretches out the word, buying time. “I don’t think we’ve reached that part of the fairy tale yet. In the meantime, let’s keep it to ourselves.”

“Okay!” Pearl is delighted to share a secret, and Mia smiles at her.

Then, she happens to glance up at the Fey house and a curtain falls, obscuring a silhouette. A foreboding chill pricks at her skin; out of habit, her fingers grasp for her own magatama.

***

One disastrous channeling later, Mia isn’t surprised when her aunt goes to prison, and honestly, that makes her sad. But she takes custody of Pearl, and Maya temporarily moves in with them.

“Phoenix is a good guy.” Mia offhandedly remarks, when Pearl is out of earshot. “He’s loyal, brave, funny. And a defense attorney, which is always a plus.”

“What?!” Maya squeaks. “Sis, it really isn’t like that. He doesn’t see me as more than his assistant.”

“Oh my God.” She rolls her eyes. “He broke down a solid door for you! And didn’t you two just go to the circus?”

“With Pearl! It wasn’t a date!”

“Were you hoping it was a date?”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing!” Belying her eighteen years, she clamps her hands over her ears and runs off.

Not long after, Mia does regret teasing her. All she wants is her sister to be safe and alive. She jumps every time the walkie-talkie hisses, and Phoenix isn’t any better. He yells Maya’s name into the receiver, without fail every time. And when Maya is finally released, Mia breaks down into sobs. She embraces her little sister in the lobby, overcome with emotion.

“Maya!” Phoenix emerges from the courtroom, and he heads straight for her. He lifts her off her feet, and when he sets her down, he holds her face with such tenderness.

Before Mia can ask, she gets a call from the hospital.

***

The subsequent years are bittersweet, of trials and triumphs. Phoenix nearly loses his badge, not to the point of disbarment, but his confidence is shaken until he helps a new attorney. His adopted daughter, Trucy, is a sweetheart who adores Maya. Her training has escalated, necessitating a stay in Khura’in, and the transition is hard at first before she grows into her role as a full-fledged spirit medium. Pearl has returned to the village, her own training guided by Misty. Their reunion had been another close call with death, but at last, their family is whole.

As for Mia, she’s continued to head the Fey and Co. Law Offices, but now as a wife and mother. Too aware of the fragility of life, she and Diego hadn’t wasted any more time. Their son had arrived four years after their wedding, and he’s certainly kept them on their toes.

She’s just finished giving Marco his lunch, when Phoenix enters the office. “Hey, Chief. Has Maya called yet?”

“No, but she should soon. Why do you ask?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you serious?” She deadpans. “You’ve been talking almost every day since she left. You should just fly over there and ask her out yourself.”

“Wait, what?!”

“I’m not blind. I’ve watched over you two for the past ten years, it’s honestly annoying at this point. And it’s not just me. Pearl is still your biggest supporter, Mom’s ready to give her blessing whenever, and even Diego’s mentioned you’re taking forever. Do you know how many times Trucy’s brought up to me that she wants Maya to be her mom?”

Stunned, he slowly replies. “Maya and I are friends. It’s not like,” He’s flustered, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I mean, she can do better.”

It’s been a long time but she’s rendered speechless. Then, the phone rings and Phoenix eagerly picks up. “Hey, Maya.” If only he could see his expression, he’s completely in love with her.

“Oh my God.” Mia mutters, and as dignified as she can be with a toddler on her hip, she marches off.

poppy: imagination, dreams, eternal life

#narumayoweek2022 #narumayo

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voraciousvore · 7 months

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Big Corp Inc. (13/43)

Chapter 13: Pit of Vipers

Candy hummed happily as she danced back and forth in front of her keyboard and typed. She was in a great mood, and oblivious to the stares she got from the vipers slithering past her desk, back in the hazardous pit that comprised her corner of the office. Ronny was immensely disappointed to see her so carefree. He thought being trapped in the refrigerator would’ve broken her. He figured he’d have to get more creative with his tortures next time. Perhaps someone had rescued her too quickly for her confinement to have affected her. He retreated to his cubicle to sulk and plot his next move. In his twisted quest for revenge, he wanted this human to be as miserable as his ex-wife made him when she left to be with a human.

Mr. Hardon was also disappointed. Candy was dressed immaculately in her proper work attire, right down to her shoes. He didn’t have an excuse to “punish” her or exchange services for favors. He wasn’t in the mood for such things anyways, since he was cranky and sleepy and it was Monday. Mr. Hardon hated Mondays because the CEO had a tendency to schedule tons of meetings on Monday, so he’d be stuck upstairs for most of the day, rubbing shoulders with the other big wigs in the company.

He wondered if he could get away with sneaking Candy with him into one of those meetings. He could slip her into his pocket... or his pants. He liked that idea a lot. Normally those meetings were boring enough to put him to sleep, but they’d be a lot more interesting with a cute tiny woman bouncing on his hard dick under the table and fondling his testicles. However, he’d need her to be quiet and obedient so she wouldn’t be noticed. The way she was now, she’d probably be yowling and screaming through the whole meeting. He couldn’t brute force her cooperation for something like that. He needed a threat to hold over her or bribe her with, something strong enough to make her do what he wanted. He’d find her weakness eventually, and exploit it. He was determined.

Candy knew nothing of the vile thoughts of the Giant men around her, like vipers poised to strike on a hapless mouse, and so continued to work in blissful ignorance. She hoped secretly that maybe Martin would pay her a visit at her desk. Martin, in the meantime, was tucked away in his own cubicle, typing as usual. Unbeknownst to Candy, he was thinking about her too, but mostly about how mortified he was about eating her alive in his sandwich. He believed he should rectify his error and make it up to her somehow, but he doubted she would want anything to do with him after being inside his stomach. She had probably seen far more of him than she ever wanted to.

He considered, with a twisting feeling in his gut, she might even be afraid of him. She had acted sweet and sociable after he threw her up, but that was hardly a natural reaction to her ordeal, was it? Maybe she was, in reality, terrified of him, and at the time was trying to pacify him by pretending to be nice so he wouldn’t eat her again. He hated that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her or harm her. The more he contemplated this possibility, though, the more it made sense to him, and the concept began to calcify in his mind as fact. He had never once seen her use the human elevator, even though his desk was right across from it. He reasoned, consequently, she must be going out of her way to avoid him.

He still wondered how in the world she ended up in his sandwich to begin with. He hadn’t given the matter much thought at the time, with how frantic he had been to save her life, but he couldn’t see how it was possible. She couldn’t open the fridge door on her own or climb up that high onto the shelf. He realized, with dread, that one of the Giants in the office probably forced her into the sandwich as an act of cruelty. How long had she been trapped in the fridge? She had likely been too cold to move. Poor little human. He felt a pang of sadness at the brutality she had suffered. And then he had come along and made everything so much worse for her by ingesting her whole. How could she not resent him after what he had done to her? On top of everything, she still had to work here, with Giants who could easily grab her and chomp her up like a delicious snack. He hunched over in his chair with shame and guilt, holding his head in his hands, feeling like a big beast of a man. He should just leave her alone; that would be best for her.

The lunch hour rolled around, and Martin got up from his chair to grab his food. This time, he was extra careful and checked every bite of his meal, making sure there were no humans hiding inside. He felt silly, and maybe a bit paranoid, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Candy tasted great and all, but that didn’t mean he wanted to inadvertently eat her again.

At around the same time, Candy decided it was time for her to visit the break room, despite the risks involved. She was determined to see Martin again, and hopefully develop their relationship further. She assumed, as long as she didn’t get caught by Ronny or crawl into any Giant food, she’d be reasonably safe. She rode the capsule launcher down to the floor from her desk and surreptitiously scurried from cubicle to cubicle on the long way there. She gave Ronny a wide berth; fortunately, he didn’t catch sight of her as he drank his coffee at his desk and munched on a bag of chips.

When Candy finally reached Martin’s gargantuan cubicle, she was disheartened to find his chair empty. She had traveled all this way just to catch a glimpse of him, or maybe even talk to him, and he wasn’t there. She ventured onward to the break room. At the very least, she could heat up her lunch she brought. As she neared, she saw a pair of Giant shiny black shoes that she recognized clomping towards her. Her eyes drifted skyward to behold her handsome crush, Martin, looming above her. Due to her position far below on the ground, he hadn’t spotted her yet. She seized the opportunity.

“Hi, Martin!” she called up to him, flashing him a gregarious smile and waving her hand enthusiastically to grab his attention. He glanced down and stopped in his tracks, the toe of his massive shoe hovering over the ground just in front of Candy, above her head. His stormy eyes widened as he recognized her. His heart jumped up into his throat. His face, all the way up to the roots of his dark hair, turned beet red. He realized, if she hadn’t said anything, he might have stepped on her by accident. Just by existing, being his huge, stupid, clumsy Giant self, he was a hazard to her. Another wave of guilt and humiliation washed over him.

He didn’t know what to do. Candy’s face fell a bit and her hand lowered to her side as the time dragged out and he stared at her dumbly, overcome with his own emotions and social awkwardness. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He opened his mouth and stuttered something incoherent, then sidestepped Candy and rushed off. She looked after him with confusion as he hurried away. Instead of returning to his desk, he left to go hide in the bathroom, his heart pumping intensely. He ran his hands through his hair, splashed some cold water on his face, and stared at his reflection in the mirror. What was wrong with him?

He had feelings inside him he wasn’t sure were proper. Realistically, after consuming the human and nearly squashing her underfoot, he should stay away from Candy. He was a danger to her. And yet... goodness was she cute. Absolutely precious, with her effervescent personality, pearlescent smile, long luscious hair, and lovely figure, like a perfect little doll. And so tiny... so helpless... he wanted to just scoop her up in his big hands and hold her and protect her from the evils in the office.

He had to remind himself that she was likely terrified of him. He was a big monstrous Giant and she was a teeny human. He had devoured her alive, for crying out loud. She was so delicious too. His mouth watered as the recollection of her divine caramel sweetness surfaced in his mind. He knew his thoughts were so wrong, and lustful, and gluttonous, but he wanted to press her up to his lips, slide her through them, play with her body on his tongue, and perhaps even swallow her. The thought filled him with horror. He truly was a monster. He needed to stay away from her, at all costs.

Once he regained his composure, he exited out of the bathroom and slunk over to his cubicle in shame. He watched the area around his feet very carefully with each step. He recognized the irony with morbid amusement that he was almost as scared at running into her as she probably was of him. He made it to his cubicle without intersecting anyone’s path and sighed as he settled into his chair. He needed to let it go, forget about her. He let out another heavy breath and got back to work.

Candy was upset, watching Martin run off like that. She didn’t understand his reaction at all. He acted almost as if he were afraid of her, but that made no sense, with him being a Giant and her a human. Was he disgusted by her, after eating her? She hoped not. He claimed that she tasted good, but maybe he was just being polite. Candy felt very sad, all of a sudden. She had imagined there might be a spark there, but maybe she was wrong. After eating her lunch, she trudged the long distance back to her cubicle morosely. Martin had returned to his own desk, typing away, but this time she passed without saying anything, looking up longingly at his huge back, as tall as a mountain, as she walked by.

She made it to her cubicle and used the capsule launcher to get back onto her desk. She blocked out her surroundings and threw herself into her work to distract herself from her sad disappointment. She was grateful, at least, that Mr. Hardon had been gone most of the day. However, there was one factor she didn’t take into consideration. While the boss was himself a significant threat to her person, his surveillance from his office kept Ronny in check.

Ronny, stewing in his cubicle all day, had come up with a great, nasty idea, one he couldn’t wait to implement. He bided his time, waiting for the end of the day to near, but not so far along that the boss would be back. He crept out of his cubicle and slithered over to Candy’s, trying to be as quiet as possible. Despite his massive size, he was able to pad over silently, without shaking the ground under his weight too much. Candy, focused on her work, failed to notice his approach until it was too late.

She turned around and let out a gasp of alarm before Ronny flicked her in the forehead with his finger. He made sure not to use too much force, since he just wanted to knock her out, not crack her skull. She stumbled back and fell onto her keyboard, out cold. Ronny smirked and coiled his fingers around her limp body, lifting her up to his face to examine her briefly. A fat, livid welt was starting to form on her forehead, but she was otherwise unharmed.

He furtively glanced around, to make sure nobody was observing him, before slinking into the boss’s office. Mr. Hardon’s laptop bag was propped up against the side of his desk. Ronny opened the bag and stashed Candy’s unconscious form in one of the inner pockets, where she wouldn’t get smashed by his laptop. He zipped the bag up so she wouldn’t be able to climb out. He snickered to himself under his breath for his devious, brilliant plan. He was banking on the boss not finding her in his bag until he was back at his domicile. He wouldn’t be able to resist doing something to her, in the privacy of his own home, when he had her there all night with him, with her powerless to resist his advances. Ronny couldn’t imagine a worse torment for her than that!

Chapter 14

First Chapter

#g/t writing #g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #size difference #g/t fluff #giant tiny #big corp inc

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narrans · 2 years

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A Tall and Small Collection | S2.27 | Confessions to the (Un)Conscious

Content Advisory: This chapter discusses sensitive messages ahead mentioning intense emotion, past experiences, and personal injury to physical and emotional self.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Quiet.

Peace.

Finally, there was a moment of calm in the home. Even though everyone was still recovering, they knew they were safe and had drifted off to sleep.

Well…

Everyone except Ashlynn…

She couldn’t sleep.

She dared not sleep.

There was a compounding, spiraling fear that they would be gone when she opened her eyes. It would’ve been so easy for the other Borrowers to gang up on the family she knew and loved. The emergency flashlight across the room was aglow dimly like a flickering candle.

It wasn’t enough to ease the human’s unease.

Were they being watched? Would they, whoever “they” were, make another attempt? Was this a message for her? Or for other Borrowers? Were they saying this would happen to others if they befriended humans?

Even after helping them, there was such mistrust. It made Ashlynn frustrated and angry. She imagined this was how Soren and his family felt, being watched and small knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it.

So, with her churning mind, Ashlynn stayed awake with the light on her bedside table on as well as the emergency flashlight in the hallway on.

The tenseness in her body wouldn’t relent, even as she looked at all of the Borrowers sleeping.

Rey, brace firmly in place, was asleep on his side. Dorian tried to stay up with Ashlynn, but his own ordeal left him exhausted too. They were curled up together with Mayzie in the middle.

All three slept in the makeshift tent Ashlynn made on the bedside table to shield them from the light that was still on, and it evidently was enough. Ashlynn could see the tops of their heads from under the blankets, Mayzie’s wavy brown and auburn kissed hair tousled in between Rey and Dorian’s sandy blonde heads of hair.

It wasn’t them, however, who she was really worried about.

It was Soren.

Thankfully, Borrowers were hearty and more resilient than humans, but not by much. He was stiff and lethargic all afternoon and into the evening. He drank the hot liquids Ashlynn offered him, but it was obvious he needed a good night’s sleep nestled in blankets way too big for him to recover fully by the next day. Ashlynn couldn’t help but think over and over that if she were just one more minute late…

No…

He was still here.

He was alive.

He was going to be fine.

That was what she had to remind herself of over and over as she stared at Soren’s sleeping form. Unlike his brothers or daughter, Ashlynn insisted on having him sleep next to her on the bed next to her pillow so she could monitor his condition. Even after hours of time on the heating pad and sleep, he was still having a hard time moving and couldn’t quite get warm, not that it was unexpected.

Some of the articles Ashlynn read said that an uncomplicated recovery could take as long as 48 hours to recover from. If Soren didn’t feel better by tomorrow afternoon, Ashlynn would have real reason to worry. It was one of the reasons why she wanted him to be close… among other reasons.

The blanket which was hundreds of times his size was pulled up over his left shoulder, but his left arm and head were exposed. Ashlynn could see the bruises on his face and arms clearer now which only enraged her. If she ever found out who was responsible, it would be a bad day for those Borrowers. Screw the consequences.

This was personal.

This was family – her family.

Weren’t there enough dangers out there for Borrowers? People. Pets. Heights. The elements. Now, their own?

Ashlynn’s heart swelled and she let out a puff of frustrated air which ruffled Soren’s hair. He stirred slightly, which made her pause and wait to see if he would wake. Instead, he nestled further under the blankets around him.

He looked so peaceful. Ashlynn dared to think to herself that he was still rather handsome and a tad rugged looking with the bruises on his cheek and by his eye.

It was completely involuntary, but she didn’t care. She reached out and carefully laid her hand just barely on top of him, palm to his back. His face and arm were exposed, and Ashlynn took a fraction of a second and delicately brushed the side of her thumb along Soren’s exposed arm before setting her thumb down on the bed beside him.

It hit her earlier that day but seeing him there made her really think.

She could have lost him. He could be gone right now.

His brothers would be alone and hurt without him. Mayzie would never know the fantastic man her father was except through second-hand stories.

He would be gone and never know what she had felt in her heart for so long.

He would never know how giddy she felt when he walked out of the walls. HE wouldn’t know that his warmth and his touch made her the happiest woman in the world. Soren wouldn’t know how much their talks meant to her. How his laugh and his smile were the last things she thought of for so many nights.

Soren would never know this if things were worse.

Ashlynn couldn’t keep it in any longer. She at least had to say it out loud. Even if he didn’t hear, keeping it locked in her mind created an echo chamber of agony and regret.

“Soren?” asked Ashlynn in the softest, tenderest tone she could muster. The sound of her voice sounded oddly muted in the silent apartment. Several seconds passed and then Soren inhaled deeply, stretching slightly into her touch, but he did not nod or respond. His eyes didn’t even flicker open for a second.

She wanted to be sure.

“Soren? Are you awake?”

Nothing.

Everything in her heart and her head felt like it was about to explode out of her. Heart pounding in her chest, she took a breath and let the words she had kept at bay slip from her lips, whispering the precious secret that it was.

“I… I’m so glad you’re okay. You had me so scared there for a while, Soren,” whispered Ashlynn. “I haven’t been that scared in a long time.”

Soren didn’t make a move to show he was aware or conscious.

“Soren… I want to tell you something – something I’ve never told you before. You told me once that you were indebted to me. You told me once that you owed me for saving your life, and your brothers’ life all those years ago. You said you could never pay me back, but you need to know I am the one who can’t pay you back, not that I’m keeping tally,” said Ashlynn. Her voice was shaking as was her hand that was still around Soren’s body.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted those all-too-familiar lines that had long since healed on her wrists. They were a harsh reminder of one of those dark times in her life that she tried to keep buried in her memory, but always resurfaced when she noticed them.

“The truth is that you saved me first.”

Ashlynn closed her eyes and remembered the first day found him. She could still feel everything she experienced that day just before she met Soren, found him snapped beneath that mouse trap.

The agony.

The rage.

No one to turn to.

The hopeless, sinking sensation when something inevitable ends up happening despite everything you did to stop it.

She remembered the frustration and apprehension of what was to come and the confusion and curiosity from seeing this small humanoid under the mousetrap that fateful day.

“You saved me,” she echoed as she opened her eyes to look at him. Her fingers curled slightly against Soren. “You see… I had just come home from the courthouse. I had to testify against my boyfriend – my fiancé. He was… unkind… to me… and I thought I could fix him. I was wrong. We were toxic and I knew it, but I was in love with him. I didn’t know what to do. My world felt like it was crumbling.”

Ashlynn gazed at Soren’s features. The way his hair fell into his eyes as he slept and the curve of his spine fitting perfectly against Ashlynn’s hand made her adore him all the more. She couldn’t stop confessing everything if she tried – not now.

“I didn’t know what to do. No one was going to miss me anymore. It felt like what happened when I was… younger… I figured I would just slip into the bathtub, put on a show, drink a little too much, and then just slip away.” She paused for a daring breath. “That’s when I saw you on the floor. You needed help, and so did I. If that wasn’t a sign, I didn’t know what was.”

Soren readjusted slightly under the covers but was asleep still. Ashlynn paused just long enough to see if he would open his eyes, but he didn’t. She sighed and kept talking. There was something reassuring about saying everything out loud to someone, even if they couldn’t hear you.

“You… you saved my life, Soren; and I never thanked you for that,” said Ashlynn. She felt warm, salty tears stinging the corners of her eyes. They threatened to fall down her cheeks and onto her pillow.

He was still out like a light. Her entire body seemed to be vibrating with anticipation. There was a fluttering in her chest making her anxious, but also excited. If she didn’t speak these feelings that made her chest ache and her heart flutter and flip, she would lose the nerve forever. She knew it.

“There’s something else, Soren. I… I don’t even know how to say this, but it’s been weighing on my heart.” Ashlynn smiled to herself. “I don’t know when or even how it is possible, but I have to tell you because I don’t want to let you go without saying it out loud.”

No regrets.

“I’m in love with you.”

Like a freed river, the emotions came flooding out of her. Ashlynn found an unstoppable smile crossing her face, and she chuckled to herself, feeling ridiculous at how good it felt to say it out loud. She wanted to do it again.

She wanted to scream it from the rooftops.

Instead, she said it again like the precious secret it was.

“I’m in love with you, Soren,” she whispered. “You’ve helped me become the person I am. I don’t know how you always make me smile and laugh, but you do. I knew the moment I left that day that it was a mistake, but I was afraid. I wasn’t sure if it was right or just circumstance that made me feel the way I did – the way I still do.”

Ashlynn gazed at Soren’s sleeping form.

“I… just wanted you to know. I needed to put it out there. I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I don’t want you to force feelings either. I know you have someone you’re interested in, and I’m honestly just happy to even be here in your life. I just want you to be happy, and that’ll make my world – because that’s what you are; you and Mayzie and Dorian and Rey,” smiled Ashlynn.

The nervous thrill of falling for someone made her head spin.

At the same time, seeing him cupped in her hand made her see the one very obvious difference between them. She wasn’t sure how it would even work. Would he even want it to work? Because she knew she did.

She stared at Soren for a moment longer when a dangerous thought crept into her mind. It crossed her mind before, but everything between her nerves and excitement had her mind in a whole new mentality.

She sat up on her elbow slowly and carefully to not disturb the bed as she gazed at Soren. Her heart pounded in her chest. The nerves just below her skin felt electrified. The thought in her mind grew and blossomed.

It was now or never.

She held her breath and leaned down, moving her hand slightly out of the way, until she was barely an inch from him. Mustering all of the courage and tenderness she possibly could, Ashlynn closed the distance and kissed Soren. It was just on his chest, and it was only for a second, but what a thrilling second that was.

She pulled away and laid her head against her pillow again, finding her emotions overwhelming at the moment. Ashlynn felt Soren readjust, but he remained quiet and still. After a little while, her eyes tired and she let herself drift off to sleep, hand gently placed just over the man she adored.

~~~^*^*^~~~

What she didn’t know – what she couldn’t have known as she drifted off to sleep – was Soren heard it all…

~~~^*^*^~~~

Soren wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. He thought he nodded when she asked if he was awake. Did he nod? It was a strange, lucid dreaming state he couldn’t quite wake from. It was like he was there, and yet he wasn’t at the same time.

It was, as they say, an out of body experience, but he heard it all.

Ashlynn’s past.

What she was thinking.

What she was feeling.

Did he even hear her right?

She loved him.

She was in love with him!

She had been feeling this way for quite some time, and now he knew it for certain.

When she kissed him, when her soft lips pressed against his chest, his mind sent him over the moon. The mental and emotional rush was the release of tension he had wanted for so long. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he was thrilled beyond words.

He knew the feelings were mutual now.

He wanted to say something, but his body and the dream like state his mind was in wouldn’t let him. By the time he managed to fight his way out of this stupor, Ashlynn was fast asleep, hand resting over him like the guardian angel she was.

Now, he was faced with a conundrum.

Ashlynn thought he was asleep the whole time, and in a way he was. The question now wasn’t whether or not Ashlynn had feelings for him, but it was how he was going to tell her that he was in a dreamlike stupor and had heard her entire confession.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

A Tall and Small Collection | Soren

ASK ME ANYTHING

22 notes · View notes

crownjimin · 2 years

Text

☆ ⁄⁄ ★ 065 | an extended family dinner, part two.

coffee — the enemies to lovers social media au where min yoongi refuses to date a cheerleader, but yoon haryun might be able to change that.

( masterlist / prev / next )

tag(s): @secretlycrazyhummingbird @preciouschimine @bubblytaetae @btsarmymochi97 @chogiyeol-utopia @flyxfall @cherrybubblesandvodka

heads up its very long!

☆ ⁄⁄ ★

When the four of them returned to Haryun’s apartment, Haryun began cooking. A few days ago, when she asked everyone what they wanted to eat, luckily for her, a few people suggested the same dishes, so she only had to cook six different dishes. She had no time to waste since she only had four hours until it was three o’clock, and everyone would begin to arrive at her apartment.

Seyoung, Yebin, and Jeongguk took shelter in the living room. The three sprawled across the different pieces of furniture while they watched whatever they had playing on the television. Between cutting all the necessary ingredients, timing each dish so that they would be done around the same time, and making sure she had enough dishes to plate and cook everything--Haryun was stretched thin.

She refused to ask for help from Seyoung, Yebin, and Jeongguk because they were her guests, and Haryun had better hospitality than that. The only other option was Moonhee, but just as Haryun thought to make her way to Moonhee’s room to ask, the girl came into the kitchen dressed as if she were preparing to leave.

“It smells delicious, Yun-ah,” Moonhee muttered as she shuffled around the kitchen purposefully.

Without looking up from the stove, Haryun reached into the fruit bowl on the counter and grabbed Moonhee’s keys. She threw them over her shoulder, directly into Moonhee’s hands, before she asked, “Where’re you going?”

Moonhee rounded the island and walked to stand beside Haryun. “You know where I’m going.”

And as Haryun stirred the sauce in her pan to prevent it from boiling, she had to think about where Moonhee would be going when she knew it was Family Dinner Sunday. Not just any Family Dinner Sunday, either--Extended Family Dinner Sunday, a special event.

The low murmur of the television in the living room mixed with the sizzling from the pan as Haryun realized where Moonhee was going. She let out a tiny gasp and a small giggle as she took her gaze away from the stove and turned to look at her roommate.

“You’re going on a date?”

Moonhee rolled her eyes playfully as her phone buzzed in her hand. “Yes, I am. After all of the complaining you did, I should at least give it a try.”

“Well, I think that it-”

“And he’s here,” Moonhee interrupted, already knowing Haryun would get sentimental and mushy about the ordeal. She appreciated the support from Haryun, but Moonhee just wanted to get the date out of the way for Haryun’s sake. “I’ll see you later, Yunbun. Save me some food.”

Moonhee was gone before Haryun could tell her to have fun. But with the busyness of the kitchen and Haryun engulfing herself in completing all of the dishes efficiently, she hadn’t realized that time had escaped her.

The clock on the stovetop read three o’seven as three knocks and a ring from the doorbell echoed throughout the apartment. If Haryun had checked her phone, she would’ve seen the texts from Yoongi and Hoseok letting her know they were on their way. If she had seen the texts, she would’ve gone to change out of her day-old sweatpants and the oversized shirt she had stolen from Moonhee months ago.

But she didn’t, and there was no time to change as Seyoung got up from her place on the loveseat to answer the front door. Haryun could hear Seyoung introduce herself to those on the other side of the door before she instructed them to take off their shoes and join her, Jeongguk, and Yebin in the living room.

“Jeonggukie, I haven’t seen you in years!” Seokjin cried out once he saw the younger boy lying on the floor in front of the television. “Yebinie’s been keeping you all to herself.”

Seokjin took a spot on the floor between Yebin and Jeongguk, falling into conversation with the two, natural and playful. Namjoon walked into the living room right behind Seokjin, but instead of lying on the floor with Yebin and Jeongguk, Namjoon fell into conversation with Seyoung. The two spoke quietly with one another, Seyoung taking her spot back on the loveseat and Namjoon sitting on the couch adjacent to the loveseat. Whatever topic they had fallen upon had them engaged with Namjoon talking animatedly and Seyoung listening actively.

The last two to enter were Hoseok and Yoongi. They walked through the living room, greeting the three already there, but they both had a specific target as they walked through the apartment. They were looking for Haryun, and the two of them walked straight into the kitchen where said girl was facing the stove, none the wiser about the two people who had recently joined her in the kitchen.

But that ignorance was shortlived, seeing as Hoseok let out one of his signature high-pitched noises as he walked behind Haryun and bombarded her with a hug. The action scared Haryun a bit, but as she cast her gaze over her shoulder to see Hoseok, her look of terror morphed into excitement.

“Hobi!”

“Bestie!” After Hoseok squeezed Haryun twice, he moved to her left side, inhaling deeply and taking in all the smells from the pots and pans on the stovetop. “It smells really good, Haryunie.”

“I hope so,” Haryun responded as she reached to turn off each burner on the stove. “I’ve been at it for hours, Hob-ah, hours.”

“Is everything done? Can we eat?” Hoseok was eager as he eyed the food with drool practically dripping from his lips. Haryun squeezed his cheeks with one hand, guiding his eyes to hers.

“Patience, Hobi,” She instructed, patting Hobi’s cheek twice. “Besides, you just got here. Go talk to Seyoungie or something and let me finish in here.”

While Hoseok began whining, his voice high-pitched and cute, Haryun turned to face the direction where she felt a heavy gaze. Yoongi eyes ran along her body, Haryun becoming self-conscious with her current state. The steam and humidity in the kitchen caused her hair to frizz, with a few strands sticking to her greasy face as she stressed. Her shirt was littered with stains in different spots and different shades, a tell-tale sign of how hard she had been working the past few hours.

She looked disgusting.

But Yoongi’s eyes held anything but disgust, and as Haryun skipped over to him with a sweet smile, his eyes only grew fonder.

Haryun’s voice was soft as she called out to him, “Yoongi,” Her arms wrapped around his waist so naturally as she fell into his arms. She pressed kisses wherever she could before Yoongi turned his face to hers and their lips met sweetly.

The moment the two got lost in one another, Hoseok took that as his sign to leave, muttering, “Yeah, I’m not dealing with this,” as he went.

His departure went unnoticed as Haryun moved her hands to Yoongi’s cheeks to kiss him harder and deeper, showing how much she had missed him within the last day. For the first time since the two had begun dating, Haryun and Yoongi hadn’t seen each other the previous day. With Yoongi having morning practice, Haryun having a later practice, and both being busy in between, they had to rely on text messages to get them through the day without seeing one another.

It held them over for the time being, but it made these kisses sweeter—the way Yoongi gripped her waist was intoxicating and made his plush lips feel softer. Haryun could drown in Yoongi’s presence, warmth and comfort radiating from him in waves.

His touch remained soft as his hand trailed down her back where it rested on Haryun’s waist, pulling her closer to him with a soft sigh. A giggle poured from Haryun’s lips at the sound, but she remained close and pressed one more kiss to his lips.

For a few moments, there was only Yoongi and his strong hands, soft lips, and husky chuckles at the way Haryun tucked her face in his neck. Sometimes hugs were the only thing Haryun needed to have a good day, most of the time, they came from Moonhee, but recently Yoongi had taken that responsibility. And while Yoongi may not be the fluffiest, most cuddly human out there, he was warm and large enough to engulf Haryun’s five-foot-four-inch frame, and that was all she needed in life.

And it was blissful while it lasted because a few seconds later, a voice screeched from the living room, “Quit suffocating each other and bring the food!” Seyoung had taken to leaning over the back of the loveseat with a grumpy look. “I’m hungry, and Momma needs to eat.”

Begrudgingly, Haryun gave Yoongi’s butt a concise pat before she pulled away from him and yelled over his shoulder, “The three douches aren’t even here yet, so we can’t begin!”

Right on cue, as if God teleported them to the apartment, Haryun’s front door slammed open with a bang. Everyone’s attention turned to the door, interested in the commotion, as three figures shuffled through the threshold, bringing a loud volume amid the chaos.

Luda was first, her tiny body hugged by the jean overalls she sported and the reusable mesh tote she always used for groceries tucked in her arms. The bag alarmed Haryun because no one brought food whenever they had family dinners. It was agreed upon in the beginning that Haryun would cook everything to make planning less chaotic and manageable. But recently, the three idiots had taken to bringing booze to every function, and it was alright to drink a bit. After all, that was the entire purpose of Sunday Family Dinners, to let loose and not care for a moment.

Yet it turned into a catastrophe for Luda, Geummi, and Namie whenever they drank. Case in point, Haryun’s broken coffee table a few months back. Geummi was the worst regarding intoxication, but Namie and Luda weren’t any better. This was why, as Luda skipped into the living room and unloaded the bag of its contents, Haryun braced herself for the night ahead as she pulled out not one, not two, but five bottles of different flavored soju.

Seyoung took it upon herself to scold Luda for the alcohol. “Dude, we agreed with no alcohol this time around.” The oldest of them had stood and placed the bottles in her arms, turning to put them in the kitchen.

Immediately, Luda pouted and was joined by Namie and Geummi, who had taken their time placing their items by the door.

“Oh, come on, Unnie, don’t ruin the fun,” Geummi complained, following right behind Seyoung into the kitchen while she tried to grab the bottles out of her arms. “We paid good money for these.”

Namie remained in the living room. She greeted Hoseok quietly and introduced herself to Namjoon before she crawled onto the floor to lay on top of Yebin, who welcomed her with open arms. In any of these situations, Namie was often the mastermind but always left Luda and Geummi to do the bidding. So with that information in mind, Haryun called out to the Japanese girl.

“Namie, we know this was your idea.”

Namie attempted to play carefree, but the devious smirk on her lips gave her away. “I would never.”

Seyoung seemed very upset. “And yet, you always do.”

All the soju bottles were on the kitchen island, calling out to the three who had just walked in but taunting Haryun with an ultimatum. The night could take an interesting turn if she let them dig into the alcohol. But if she locked the alcohol away in her special cabinet and left it for another night (one Haryun was sure to come), she could keep the night in control.

Quietly and almost invisible during the heated discussion happening between the three girls in the kitchen, Yoongi reached for the bottle of peach soju and examined it closely. Seyoung began digging into Geummi with that motherly passive voice that only she knew how to use while Haryun cosigned and pointed out that Luda and Namie were also to blame.

Not understanding the intense conversation, Hoseok spoke up from the living room. “Why can’t we drink?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi said as he shook the soju bottle. “It’s just soju.”

Geummi pointed at Yoongi excitedly, her gaze turning to Seyoung and Haryun with a proving expression. “Exactly. Why can’t we get drunk and eat some good food?”

“Because it’s you.” Seyoung’s words were to the point, and Geummi frowned. “And Luda and Namie.”

“Hey!” “What exactly does that mean?” Namie and Luda chimed in from the living room.

Haryun shook her head as she turned back to the stove, remembering that she had to plate all the dishes and still move them to the coffee table in the living room so everyone could eat. This dinner was supposed to be simple, everyone gathered together to get to know each other better and eat good food. The argument between Seyoung and Geummi was not letting up, and Luda had joined them in the kitchen to provide backup to Geummi’s debate.

“Alcohol loosens everyone up,” Luda argued. “It brings our true selves to the surface.”

“Your true selves are toddlers with super strength. You break everything in your path,” Seyoung countered.

Geummi ironically replied. “Not true.”

Haryun didn’t even think to stop her ministrations as she transferred the Galbi-jjim from its pan onto a serving dish as she interrupted, “What about my coffee table?”

“That was a fluke!” Seyoung let out a scoff and slammed her hands on the island countertop, and even Luda chuckled a bit. They both knew Geummi had broken more than just the coffee table in the past. That was the most recent and significant item she had damaged with her drunken mishaps.

“It was!”

And with the convoluted voices and heated arguments, Haryun realized that this was who her friends were. The three idiots were borderline drunks who wanted the most fun they could in their most malleable years. Sometimes--most times--they were unhinged and behaved like untrained puppies, just happy to be there, but it's what made them fun to be around. Was it sad that alcohol helped them open up? Yes, and it was concerning that they were in their early twenties and so dependent on being inebriated to open up, but Seyoung, Haryun, and Moonhee never let them get too bad.

But it reminded Haryun that if she wanted Yoongi and his friends to get to know her friends, there were going to have to get all the craziness and drunken shenanigans that came with them.

So, Haryun relented. “Just let them drink, Unnie.”

The argument halted so fast that a record scratch would be appropriate as the three of them looked to Haryun; Seyoung confused, and Luda and Geummi excited.

“Really?” Seyoung sounded unsure, her eyes telling Haryun not to let this happen.

But Haryun shrugged and finished plating all of the food. “Let them do what they want. But I will say,” Haryun made sure to level her eyes with Geummi’s. “Remember, we have company.”

Haryun spoke the words in vain because as soon as Geummi was sure that soju was acceptable, she twisted open the green apple flavor and took a swig. Yoongi looked taken aback, shocked at how smoothly it seemed to go down for the girl before she passed it to Luda, who mimicked her actions.

Haryun giggled at her boyfriend’s expression, thinking he was only seeing the tip of the iceberg since the night had barely begun.

“Oh, Yoonie,” Haryun had plated everything on separate dishes and was ready to bring everything into the living room. “This is Luda and Geummi, two-thirds of the annoying leeches I’ve told you about.”

Yoongi nodded as he waved and gave the two girls his adorable smile. Haryun couldn’t help but swoon. “I’ve met her before,” Yoongi pointed at Geummi, who blushed and nodded in agreement. “You’re Coach’s niece.”

“Yeah,” Geummi replied, her cheeks red with a tiny blush. It was funny to see her so shy.

“And you already know Seyoung-Unnie,” Haryun added, knowing that Seyoung needed little to no introduction, no matter who it was.

“Y’know, Yoongi, I have a few questions that I think-” Seyoung began as she rounded the island, took him by the arm, and led him into the living room as she spoke.

Haryun watched them leave, a bit nervous and never knowing where Seyoung could go with her questions. Sometimes they were innocent and genuinely curious, and other times they had ulterior motives to scare and intimidate people into submission.

She just hoped Seyoung played nice since she wanted to keep Yoongi for a long time.

As the two of them left the kitchen, Luda and Geummi attempted to follow.

“Nuh-uh,” Haryun moaned, catching both girls' attention. “Where are you guys going? You know the drill,” She gestured down to the plates of food and the empty plates and silverware that everyone would use to eat everything. “And Namie, you too, come on!”

With a few moans and groans, Namie got up from her spot on the ground and joined the rest in the kitchen. Every Sunday Family Dinner, Luda, Geummi, and Namie helped Haryun set the makeshift dinner table. Seyoung was responsible for cleaning the dishes, and Moonhee would put the dishes away. Yebin hadn’t been officially worked into the cleaning-up ritual yet, but she liked to help wherever possible. But seeing as Jeongguk had taken the spot Namie recently abandoned, laid out on top of his girlfriend, Yebin wasn’t going to help set the table.

Everyone crowded around the table as the four girls set the food down. Haryun encouraged everyone to help themselves, Seokjin taking her words for face value as he dove straight in and moaned in delight. With each noise that left his mouth, they grew more sensual, and Geummi looked more entertained.

“Seokjin-ssi, you’re very vocal,” she giggled as she helped herself to a mouthful of japchae. “Keep going.”

Luda and Namie giggled at Geummi’s words, to which Seokjin winked at Geummi and continued to eat. Watching as everyone stuffed their faces, Haryun felt satisfied, but she refused to start eating until she changed. Her clothes felt heavy with grease and food fumes, ruining her appetite.

Noticing Haryun hadn’t taken a seat, Yoongi gestured for her to sit with a pat on the floor, his eyes round and pleading. “Yun-ah, sit down.”

“Give me one second,” She petted his head softly as she turned to make her way toward her room. “I need to go change. I’ll be back.”

No one else batted an eye at Haryun’s temporary departure, all of them being too busy shoveling mouthfuls of delicious foods into their mouths. But Yoongi, who couldn’t help himself, watched as Haryun left, something he did almost every time Haryun left him. It was hard to take his eyes away from her, but he had no choice once she disappeared.

Luda, who had taken to watching Yoongi out of interest, chuckled to herself. “Yoongi-ssi, she’s coming back. She didn’t leave forever.”

Seyoung had placed more food onto Yebin’s plate as she chimed in. “He’s in love, Lulubee. Leave him alone.”

“I was just saying!” Luda defended herself, causing everyone to laugh. “You would think he was a puppy, and she had a treat for him.”

“She is the treat for him,” Geummi joked.

Another giggle came from the three girls, Hoseok and Jeongguk, joining in as they enjoyed the teasing their friend was receiving. The television was still on in the background, providing an amiable noise to tune out the frequent sounds of munching and the occasional grunts of satisfaction from Seokjin, Hoseok, and eventually Namjoon.

Moments passed, and Haryun still hadn’t returned. Yoongi had gotten his fill at this point, his stomach full, his tastebuds satisfied, and a slight buzz from the two shots of soju Geummi had forced into his hand. While sober, Yoongi was attached to Haryun like a parasite; slightly tipsy Yoongi wanted to be molded into her as one, never possible to be separated.

Yoongi peered down the hallway every few minutes, his eyes searching for his girlfriend and his ears ringing out for any sign of her footsteps. He had half a mind to get up and grab her, but before he could push himself off the floor, Haryun skipped down the hallway as if she had only been gone a second.

She had changed, and her hair was much tamer as she smiled and giggled at the sight of everyone practically slumped over with their stomachs full and their hunger satisfied. Before Haryun could make it any further than a few steps past him, Yoongi reached for her wrist and pulled her down into his side, catching her before she could hit the ground too hard from the momentum.

“Geez, hyung, don’t hurt her,” Hoseok grumbled from his spot on the opposite side of Yoongi. “She did just cook you an amazing meal.”

Everyone had abandoned their dishes around them, Haryun maneuvering to reach over and grab food for herself to enjoy as everyone else fell into a comfortable conversation. She noticed light blushes on everyone’s cheeks, showing they had already begun drinking. Everyone else had finished two soju bottles, the empty bottles lying elsewhere as the newest bottle of Peach soju was calling out to Haryun.

While she preoccupied herself with the soju, Yoongi grabbed a bowl for her and placed a scoop of japchae into it. He was careful with his movement, allowing Haryun to drink before gently placing the bowl in her hands, along with a pair of chopsticks.

“Thank you,” Haryun flushed as she took the items from his hands, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. They were squeezed together on the floor, and she was practically in his lap, even though there was more than enough room to stretch out. Haryun didn’t move, though. “Did you eat enough?”

As she took her first bite, she noticed that Geummi had moved across the floor from where she had been earlier. Now, the slightly drunk girl was leaning against the side of the loveseat, with her head receiving rhythmic pats from Seyoung whenever Geummi groaned loud enough. Haryun thought she had only been gone for a brief second, but apparently, there was enough time for everyone to eat and stuff themselves before she returned.

“I just realized where I knew you from, Geum-ah,” Seokjin spoke up, his eyes bright with realization. “You’re the girl who took pictures for the school newspaper last month, right?”

Geummi closed her eyes as she whined for more pats from Seyoung, but she still replied, “Yeah. The pictures came out great.”

“Yeah, I know,” Seokjin said. “I found your Instagram and followed it. The one where you post all the photography.”

“Wait, wha?” Seokjin’s words made Geummi sit up fast, Seyoung’s hand knocking into the side of her face due to the speed. “You did what?”

“Ah, hyung, the one with all the museum pictures and stuff, right?” Namjoon added, utterly unaware of the aneurysm he was causing Geummi to undergo. “I followed it too.”

Hoseok looked around the group, confused. “What Instagram? I want to follow it.”

“My god,” Geummi muttered, turning to make eye contact with Haryun. “Please don’t.”

Through her spoonful of food, Haryun tried not to laugh. Everyone except for Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin knew what Geummi was going through. It was so apparent by how she looked like she was about to cry, and her eyes never left Namjoon, who complimented her on her photography and Instagram account.

Many of Geummi’s answers to his questions were clipped because she knew if she attempted to speak her true thoughts somewhere in there, she would ask him to bend her over to go at it. Sure, she had a few drinks, which made her lips loose. But she wasn’t gone to the point where her college career-long crush on Namjoon was going to be revealed.

She would die before that ever happened.

And Namjoon--sweet, innocent, puppy-eyed Namjoon was none the wiser. “We should go to a museum together, Geummi-ssi. It would be fun.”

And in one instance, Geummi’s face fell. Luda snickered so hard that a small amount of water leaked from her nose as she quickly attempted to cover it up but failed miserably. Haryun was thoroughly entertained as she ate, feeling a tap on her waist as Yoongi leaned over and asked what was going on.

“Is she okay?”

Haryun shook her head with a laugh in response. “She’s fine.”

Geummi looked pained as she physically restrained herself from leaping across the coffee table and bombarding Namjoon with her presence and a shit ton of kisses. Seyoung could sense the tension in the younger girl sitting in front of her and reached down to pat her head again.

“She would love to,” Seyoung answered for Geummi. To which Namjoon smiled generously and shrugged his eyebrows in interest. “Geum loves museums.”

“Oh really?” If Namjoon had an issue with Seyoung answering for Geummi, he didn’t show it as he leaned forward, willing to talk all day about one of his passionate hobbies. “Which ones have you been to?”

Their conversation was lost in everything as Hoseok reached for the bottle of soju at the same time as Namie, causing their hands to collide. Hoseok sat to her right, with Luda to her left, and the three talked about dance and the like for most of the dinner.

“Go ahead, Nam,” Hoseok conceded, going as far as to pour the shot for her before he poured his own. “I’ll always let you go first.”

Namie nodded in thanks as she downed the drink, a sigh of relief leaving her as she relaxed a bit more with the alcohol in her veins. She could feel Luda glaring at the side of her face, waiting for her to turn towards her, so she did the exact opposite and looked past Hoseok to Yoongi.

“Yoongi-ah, when are you going back brown?” Namie asked, brushing Luda’s hand from her waist nonchalantly. “I miss the brown.”

Yoongi was caught off guard at the question, too preoccupied with feeding Haryun for the time being. “Oh? I’m not sure. Since it’s already blond, I might dye it a color.”

“I suggest red,” Jeongguk said, his eyes never leaving whatever was playing on the television. “Or like a blue.”

“Blue is terrible,” Namjoon disagreed. “His skin is too pasty.”

“He prefers the term pale,” Seokjin corrected. “But Namjoon-ie is right. Blue would be a bad choice.”

Geummi, with her eyes glazed over, added her opinion. “Do black. Everyone looks sexy with black hair.”

“Yoongi is sexy now,” Namie nodded. “Blond is a good color but boring.”

Luda gasped, causing everyone to look over at her. “Do orange like Jimin’s.”

Yoongi shook his head, appreciating all of the hair color suggestions but not needing them since he didn’t want to change the color anytime soon. “I think I’ll stick with blond.”

“Haryun-ie, bestie,” Hoseok called out, to which the girl looked up from her food. “What do you think?”

“I like him blond. Although I don’t remember him with any other color,” Haryun shrugged as if the conversation was unimportant. “I suggest he grows it long, though.”

“Like a mullet,” Yebin nodded.

“Exactly.” Haryun reached over to comb her fingers through Yoongi’s hair just once, leading him to place his head on her shoulder and hug her closer to his body. “But he’ll be cute either way.”

Namie faked a gag, standing to her feet to move from her spot between Hoseok and Luda over to Seyoung and Geummi. “You guys are gross.”

“They’re worse than Yebi and Jeonggukie,” Luda joked, gesturing to the younger couple, who weren't touching one another for the first time that night. “And that’s saying a lot.”

“Aw,” Hoseok pouted. “I think they’re cute. Seeing as I’m the one who set them up makes perfect sense.”

Seokjin, who had helped himself to another round of food, groaned at Hoseok’s statement with a roll of his eyes. “Stop trying to take credit for their love because it wasn’t you!”

“But who invited Haryun to Hope World the first time?!”

“No, no, but wait,” Luda intervened. “Haryun-ie was going to go anyway. Right?”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Haryun, wanting to know whether or not Hoseok genuinely was why Yoongi and Haryun ended up together. It had been the one thing Hosoek refused to let go of ever since Yoongi told him that Haryun was his girlfriend. Maybe it gave Hoseok a new glow because it was his goal when he invited Haryun to Hope World at the beginning of the year.

But before Haryun could answer and put the suspense to rest, the front door clicked open, followed by a loud grunt and the slam of shoes hitting the ground. Only then did Haryun realize the sun had set a long time ago, and it was dark outside, meaning that hours had passed since the beginning of the dinner began.

Without thinking about who it could be, Luda, Namie, and Geummi shot up from the ground and ran over to greet Moonhee at the door like excited puppies. They were closer to Moonhee since she was the one who often fed them and hung out with them whenever they whined enough for her to do so. She was also the only person the three actively listened to whenever she instructed them to do something.

And that fact was easily exhibited when Moonhee told them to let her go, and they immediately stopped hugging her and gave her some distance. She took the opportunity to walk into the living room, the three following behind her in a line, and she greeted everyone sitting around the coffee table.

“Hi, guys,” Moonhee sighed, exhaustion evident. “I didn’t miss much, right?”

Jeongguk turned to face Moonhee as he reached up and hugged her around her legs. She patted his head twice before she bent to her knees to hug Yebin and wave to Seokjin.

“Moonhee-yah, I noticed you weren’t here,” he said as she waved to him. “I missed you.”

Everyone laughed as Moonhee rolled her eyes lightly, smiling a bit at his antics as she moved on to Namjoon and where he sat on the couch. Swiftly, she stepped over his long legs, greeting him quietly before she sat next to him, tired as she slumped into the corner of the couch, right behind Yoongi, Hoseok, and Haryun.

“I’m so tired,” she groaned, grabbing the hand Haryun extended out to her and squeezing it. “I just want to eat and lay down and sleep.”

Namie and Luda joined Moonhee on the couch, one on each side of the tired girl as they cuddled up to her side. Haryun watched as her best friend allowed the two girls to hug her for a second before Moonhee dropped Haryun’s hand and stood to make her way to the kitchen.

“What’s left to eat?” Moonhee asked once Haryun had followed her into the kitchen. “I’ll eat anything at this point.”

“Lucky for you,” Haryun squeezed Moonhee’s waist briefly before she made her way to the oven, which had been left on a low temperature to keep what was in it warm. “I got you rotisserie. And I didn’t let anyone touch it, so it’s just for you.”

Moonhee placed her hands over her heart as she cooed, sincerely touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Yun-ie.”

Haryun shrugged. “Think of it as thanks for going on a date. I know you only did it for me,” She pursed her lips as she paused. “So it’s the least I could do.”

While Haryun placed the rotisserie on the kitchen counter, Moonhee went to the fridge to grab the condiments she liked to have with her chicken. Buldak chicken sauce, lemon, and mustard were her sauces of choice, and while all of her friends thought she was disgusting for mixing those three, Moonhee devoured it every time.

Happily, Moonhee coated her chicken with a large helping of the Buldak sauce and mustard, humming to herself as she took a small bite and did a tiny dance due to how delicious her concoction was after her long night.

Without wanting to pry too much, Haryun was curious about the date Moonhee went on. She didn’t know who the date was since Moonhee only mentioned that someone had asked her out and that she was going to go, but Haryun hoped it went well.

So with as much nonchalance as she could fake, Haryun asked, “How was the date?”

Moonhee had broken off a leg from the chicken and was deep into it as Haryun asked the question. It took her off-guard, but she swallowed her bite and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before she replied, “Like all of the others.”

Haryun watched Moonhee put more mustard on her chicken before her friend continued, “He said he thought tattoos were tacky and ruined my skin. Even if he did want to go on another date, I wouldn’t accept. Anyone who can’t accept every part of me isn’t worth it.”

Before Haryun could agree and reassure her best friend that someone out there would appreciate her for all of her, a voice chimed in. The voice startled them both since they were under the impression they were having a private conversation.

“Oh, but your tattoos are cool, Moonhee-yah,” The voice was Seokjin. He had snuck into the kitchen for water but had come in at what seemed like the perfect time. “I like the giraffe the best. It’s just like you.”

He continued to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle as if he didn’t just butt into their conversation. Haryun would’ve politely asked Seokjin to give them some privacy, but Moonhee looked relieved at Seokjin’s words as if they were the right thing she needed to hear.

“Is that rotisserie,” he continued as Moonhee squirted an extra helping of mustard on the next piece she was eating. In the few minutes she had been munching on the chicken, she tackled almost half of it with determination. “With mustard?”

“It’s good,” Moonhee defended.

Uncertainty wavered in Seokjin’s eyes, and wordlessly Moonhee offered him a piece of chicken, one drenched in both Buldak sauce and mustard. It confused Haryun a bit since Moonhee wouldn’t even share chicken with her sometimes, but Seokjin just got offered a piece his first time at their apartment.

Maybe Haryun was a bit jealous, but the feeling passed once Seokjin ate the bite of chicken with hesitance. He took a moment to chew, taste the flavors, and then swallow with a pleasantly surprised expression.

“Not bad, Moonhee-yah,” he complimented. “You gonna eat the whole thing yourself?”

“I always do.”

Why did Haryun feel like she was witnessing something she wasn’t supposed to? Should she look away? Or maybe just go back into the living room? Thankfully, she didn’t have to decide, seeing as Seokjin began to take his leave and head back toward the living room.

But before he left, he turned to Moonhee and said, “If you need someone to take you on a proper date, I’ll always be available.”

The offer shocked Haryun so much that she had to take a step back and lean on the counter. Moonhee simply nodded and turned back to her chicken as if Seokjin hadn’t just suggested that he take her on a date, which sent Haryun spiraling.

“Why didn’t you accept?”

“It’s Seokjin, Yun-ah. He never means it when he asks me on dates.”

That had Haryun’s eyes almost bursting out of their sockets. “He’s asked you out before?!”

With a shrug, Moonhee grabbed her chicken and all the condiments in her hand before she walked into the living room, leaving behind her best friend to come to terms with the newfound information she had discovered. She had been there for a while since Yoongi entered the kitchen to look for her.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi raked his eyes up and down her body before he hugged her, alarmed at Haryun's stillness. “You’ve been in here for a minute.”

The warmth from his hug knocked Haryun from her stupor, and she returned the hug quickly, pressing her body close to his.

“Did you enjoy the food?” Yoongi shoved his face in her neck while she spoke, his hands trailing down her back slyly as he pushed them further into the kitchen. The movement was distracting to Haryun, but she allowed it nonetheless, wrapping her arms around Yoongi’s neck for balance.

Once Yoongi had successfully crowded them in the far corner, up against the counter and away from prying eyes, he groaned out an answer before he pressed a kiss into Haryun’s neck.

“Very good, thank you.” His breath was warm, and a shiver ran down Haryun’s spine, which led her to tilt her head close to his and ghost her lips over his.

There was a slight lilt in their movement, both swaying as they wrapped themselves up in one another’s presence as they would typically do whenever they were together. Yoongi’s hands had dropped further, now brushing on the bare skin of the back of Haryun’s thighs and dangerously close to disappearing beneath her shorts.

Their noses brushed together as Yoongi breathed. “I just needed some time with you.”

Haryun giggled. “I’m always here to give my time to you.”

Yoongi hummed low before he finally pressed their lips together. It started sweet but ventured into lewd once Haryun parted her lips and pulled him closer by the back of his neck. Very rarely would she usually participate in such a distinct act of PDA in a place where anyone could witness. Sure, these were people she was comfortable with, and she knew they would never judge her, but it was just something Haryun would rather keep behind closed doors.

Most of those things were private and only between her and the person she chose to do things with, but with Yoongi, it was hard not to fall to her knees and beg him for more. It was not something she was proud of, how vulgar her thoughts about him would get just from hearing him talk about odd things like wainscotting or the benefits of eggs in your ramyeon. Or that tiny tick of his lip when something he wasn’t happy with occurred, but he didn’t want to show that he was upset.

In short, even the little things about Yoongi got Haryun riled up. So imagine the storm of desire raging through her once Yoongi slid his rough hands beneath her shorts and squeezed the flesh he had cupped in his grasp. The moan that escaped Haryun’s mouth would’ve been louder if Yoongi wasn’t kissing her, but the moment the kiss ended, Haryun shoved her hands beneath his shirt, his skin warm to touch.

Their breaths were heavy, but it didn’t stop them from reconnecting and tuning out the increasing volume of their friends in the living room. Even if she tried her hardest to tune them out and focus on kissing her boyfriend, Haryun could always tell when Geummi was veering off into a drunken rage just by the tone of her voice. To Haryun’s utter disappointment, it was happening at that moment.

“You are insane if you think he is a good father, Seokjin-ssi!” Geummi was hiccuping and slurring between words, a tell-tale sign to Haryun that she would have to wrap whatever she had going on with Yoongi up and help her friends in the living room.

But then Yoongi readjusted his grip on her ass and pushed his hips into hers, allowing her to feel just how aroused he was from them fooling around in the kitchen, sucking Haryun back in. Yoongi’s skin was soft but not softer than his kisses, no matter how eager the kisses turned.

Her fingers gripped his skin as she kissed him with hunger, her hips canting in sync with Yoongi’s, and she moaned whenever she felt like she was about to explode. It was intoxicating, and it was fun, it was-

“Ohh,” A collective gasp echoed from the living room, knocking Haryun and Yoongi apart just as the sound of pattering feet followed the gasps.

Worry etched itself across Haryun’s features as she dropped her hands to her sides and attempted to move around Yoongi and into the living room, but she couldn’t make it far. Yoongi’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back to his chest swiftly.

“I just know she broke something, Yoon,” Haryun rushed out, her hands folding over Yoongi’s where they wrapped around his waist. “It’s always something with her-”

“My dick might fall off if you leave me like this,” Yoongi groaned into her ear, frantic and panicked, and Haryun could feel that he wasn’t exaggerating. He could poke someone’s eye out with the erection he was sporting, and it was funny when Haryun thought about it.

“Don’t laugh,” he hissed. “Just don’t move.”

She giggled anyway and shuffled forward with Yoongi draped over her back, using her as a shield to protect him from shame and embarrassment.

As they had made it into the living room, Seyoung shouted, “Haryun, they broke something else!”

Haryun scanned the living room for any damage. The coffee table was fine, everyone still had all their limbs, and the television was still on the wall. So what broke? Geummi was curled into a ball on the floor with Moonhee laid across her back, seeming to keep Geummi on the ground. If the whines and complaints were anything to go by, Geummi was unhappy that she was being pinned down.

Across the coffee table, strewn across the floor in a starfish position, was Namie, and she was giggling to herself as she kicked her feet, drunkenness written all over her features. If she weren’t held hostage by her boyfriend, Haryun would’ve rushed over and helped Namie catch her bearings, but before she could even think to move, Yoongi squeezed her closer to him in a warning.

“So what broke?”

Slowly, with something cupped in his hands, Namjoon stood from the floor where he was kneeling. Shattered glass was in his hands, and from the design, Haryun knew it was one of the large serving plates she had used to serve the braised ribs earlier in the night. And since Geummi only knew how to break things that Haryun cared about, it was the plate that her parents had gifted her when she moved from Jeju to Seoul, a going away present of sorts.

“You’re shitting me, right?” The anger wavering in Haryun’s voice was scary, and Seyoung stood up to block her view of Geummi to prevent things from escalating further, but it was futile at best. “Why is it always something my parents give me, Geum?”

“I told her not to lunge across the table,” Luda spoke, her tone laced with pride at being proven right. “She didn’t listen.”

“To be fair,” Moonhee grunted as Geummi shoved her extra hard, still attempting to get off the ground. “Seokjin provoked her.”

Seokjin guffawed, his ears red as he was drunker now than he had previously been when Haryun first made her way into the kitchen. “What did I do?!”

“You entertained her bullshit argument,” Moonhee rebutted. “I told you to stop!”

“She did, hyung,” Jeongguk pointed out. “So maybe this is a bit of your fault.”

“It is his fault!” Geummi shouted. “Blame him, Unnie, not me!”

Haryun was getting a migraine at all the back and forth, pointing the blame at one another. Maybe she should’ve stayed in the kitchen with Yoongi. At least then, she was feeling good and not about to have a conniption.

“Just,” Haryun breathed as she glanced at the digital clock beside the couch. It was a quarter to midnight and time for the dinner to be over. “Let’s clean up, sober up, and we’ll reconvene. Okay?”

No one moved an inch or spoke a word, which led Haryun to repeat herself. “Okay?!”

“Yes!” “Okay!” “Mhm.” “Heard.” They all murmured as they rushed to pick up anything off the floor, and everyone began shuffling around. However, Namie remained on the floor, though too far gone to move a muscle. Taking notice of her state, Hobi rushed to Namie and helped her sit up with a bottle of water in his hands. He guided it to her lips and helped her drink, which Namie graciously accepted as she downed half the bottle in one go.

Seokjin, Seyoung, and Namjoon crowded around the sink as they alternated washing dishes, drying them, and putting them away in a fashion that seemed rehearsed. Moonhee had taken Geummi to her room, knowing that the end of Geummi’s night had already arrived and she wouldn’t be able to make it past this little mishap no matter how much Geummi wanted to stay with everyone else.

Jeongguk, Yebin, and Luda took to cleaning up the living room. Jeongguk swept the floors while Yebin picked up random pieces of trash, including the five empty soju bottles scattered around the living room. Luda was pretending to oversee the clean-up, but she was watching Hobi take care of Namie with a weird look on her face, one that Haryun noticed, to which she snapped her fingers and called Luda over to where she and Yoongi had been standing the entire time.

“What’re you doing?” Haryun asked, her arms crossed and eyes glaring. “You look suspicious.”

“Oh, I look suspicious?” Luda sounded accusing as she gestured to Haryun and Yoongi and the way Haryun hadn’t moved from in front of him the entire time. “You and your boyfriend look like statues over here, all freakishly still and whatnot.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, not at all quiet or inconspicuous about it.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Oh my god, he has a bo-” Luda was too smart for her own good sometimes, which was why Haryun pinched her in the neck, shutting the younger girl up in an instant.

“Be quiet.”

With a whine, Luda pouted and conceded. “Fine, but when you settle it later, can you keep it down? I need a full eight hours.”

“First of all, I’m always quiet,” Haryun whispered, attempting to keep it from Yoongi, but of course, he heard and poked Haryun’s side to let her know. Luda snickered, entertained with it all. “And second, where are you planning on sleeping? You know Geum is already in Moonhee’s bed.”

“I’ll just join you once you finish with whatever,” Luda waved off, not at all concerned with her sleeping arrangements, knowing that whenever she did fall asleep, it would be in someone’s bed. “Just don’t be naked and change the sheets.”

And with that, Luda walked into the kitchen to join the miniature assembly line that Seyoung, Namjoon, and Seokjin had begun. For a moment, Haryun and Yoongi still recalled what Luda had suggested.

“Is she serious?” Yoongi asked, a bit petrified at the calmness Luda held when mentioning that she was going to share a bed with them. “Or is she joking?”

“I do not think she is joking, but if you don’t want to share a bed with her, Yoonie, I can tell her,” Haryun turned to face Yoongi as she spoke, not at all shocked at Luda and her antics. “We’ve done it before, but if you do-”

“With who?”

A shy smile appeared on Haryun’s lips, and she pressed a soft kiss to Yoongi’s cheek. “No one important. But it was just once. Luda doesn’t mind any of that.”

“Well, I don’t mind sharing a bed with Luda,” He responded, his tone low and even. “But, if so, we aren’t having sex. I don’t feel comfortable doing that and then letting someone lay in bed with us.”

So then maybe Luda would have to sleep somewhere else because Haryun was looking forward to that part of the night. And she wasn’t so sure that she was going to give it up.

“Uh, why?”

“That is very awkward, and our first time cannot be rushed or shared with someone else.”

“We aren’t sharing per se. Luda’s just joining us afterward.” Was she wrong to try and sell this to Yoongi? Maybe he made a good point that their first time shouldn’t be this way, but Haryun was not sure she could wait.

“Still no.”

“Just the tip?”

Yoongi looked incredulous at his girlfriend. “What is- No!”

“Oh my god, please,” Haryun hugged him tighter, showing her desperation. “Just a little.”

“There is no such thing as a little sex, Yun-ah.”

“Then just let me blow you.” It was something.

“No,” He paused to think about it, and his eyebrows raised in interest as he thought about it. “Wait, seriously?”

Haryun perked up at his consideration. “Yes.”

“Well,” There was a shout from Seokjin behind Yoongi that they both ignored, Yoongi tucking Haryun’s hair behind her ear gently. “We can do that.”

“Okay, good,” she smiled wide and uncontrollably. “Let’s do it now!”

With too much excitement and anticipation, Haryun began dragging Yoongi toward her room, completely forgetting that she still had all of their friends in her apartment and that, officially, dinner hadn’t ended. And Yoongi reminded her of that fact.

As Haryun slowed her footsteps, a pout on her lips, Moonhee walked out of her bedroom in a new set of clothes without Geummi. At the sight of her best friend, Haryun gasped, catching Moonhee’s attention.

“Oh, Moonie, let everyone out and tell them we’ll see them later. I’m going to blow Yoonie.” Haryun rushed out, bouncing on her feet with genuine excitement and a tad too much innocence in her words.

Yoongi blanched at the bluntness of Haryun’s words, turning to explain to Moonhee a lie that he was preparing, but Moonhee said, “Okay, have fun,” and continued down the hallway. There was no time for Yoongi to mull over any of the conversations in the hallway because, in a millisecond, Haryun had him inside her room and forced him to sit on the edge of her bed. The door closed and locked.

“Okay,” Haryun breathed as she kneeled on the floor and tied her hair into a bun, her eyes glued to the erection poking through Yoongi’s sweatpants. “Time for a blowie.”

Yoongi groaned at her choice of words, but he still let Haryun pull down his pants. “Don’t call it that.”

And even though Haryun had told Luda that she was always quiet, she never said anything about Yoongi.

☆ ⁄⁄ ★

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A/N: we've reached the end :((( of course i had to end it on a yoonyun blowjob but whatever. the epilogue will be up in a little bit. also DONT FORGET TO VOTE IN THE POLL !!! its in the masterlist

#min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #bts social media au #min yoongi x female oc #min yoongi social media au #park jimin #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #humor #enemies to lovers #coffee social media au

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