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beomeli · 3 years

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A normal October night || C.SB

Warning: mention of drinking, underaged drinking, mild swearing

Genre: Angst, unrequited love, heartbreak

Non-idol!Soobin X gn!Reader

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As the cold night of october settled with beautiful autumn leaves and quiet streets, one specific house didn't bother keeping the nice aesthetic at peace.

People were dancing, drinking, making out, all while loud music played in the background. They didn’t care about the complaining, they only wanted to make as much possible of their youthful days. Even though the house was fairly big, every space was crowded with drunk people having the time of their lives. Making the rooms feel small and claustrophobic. As for you, you were standing alone towards a white wall.

Your best friends had convinced you to come, and since one of them kept on insisting, you couldn’t do much but to agree. That one was Choi Yeonjun, an excited extrovert that always acted out on whatever came to mind, as for the other.. his name was Choi Soobin, the more quiet and calm one. Even though they were different personality wise, they complemented each other very well. Always seeming to get along and joke around, Yeonjun pulling stupid antics and Soobin laughing alongside. they were very good best friends. And they were your best friends.

Your first encounter with Yeonjun almost felt unreal. You being a first year and him being one year above, saw you quietly sitting alone outside the school building. you were eating your lunch by yourself next to the school gymnasium. And as he walked past you towards the gym, he couldn’t help but walk up and greet you.

Ever since that day you've been great friends. Even though you had different classes that also were on different floors you managed to hang out with him quite often. And after a few weeks Yeonjun introduced you to his so called other best friend. That person was Soobin. A freshman just as you, who was in a different class, hence why you hadn’t talked nor seen him before. But still, you fell for him, hard. Not only was he intelligent, funny and kind, he was extremely beautiful. His whole demeanor and appearance was breathtaking. You couldn’t help but take notice at his every feature, slowly ascending into a rabbit hole with nothing to stop you. The more you talked to him the more your love grew. And the fact that he actually saw you as his best friend made your heart skip.

You had hoped for this party to be a great time for you and your friends to dance and have fun. But as soon as you stepped through the wooden door and into the sea off people, you understood that, that wouldn't be the case. Yeonjun made his way towards the kitchen talking to his friend from other schools. Soobin on the other hand, awkwardly made his way towards the living room, trying to keep a low profile. You knew Soobin wasn’t very fond of parties, hence the biggest reason he tried so hard convincing you to come.

“Come on Y/N, I don’t want to take care of Yeonjun alone! Plus, I really like your company..” his words stuck with you, he enjoyed your company? He wanted to spend time with you? You couldn’t help but repeat his phrase in your head. Fixating on every word he said, happy that he wanted to have you around him.

You followed behind closely, trying to not bump into all too many people as the rooms were tightly crowded with all the drunken people. The smell of alcohol being unavoidable. Soobin found an empty wall and leaned towards it, inspecting everyone. While you closely snuck your way past all the people and also leaned toward that white wall.

The music was even louder, the atmosphere humid, as all the drunk sweaty people were jumping up and down to the music. But you couldn’t help but feel an comfortable aura as Soobin stood close to you, smiling a bit to himself. Your heart skipped a beat.

"It's not even 8 pm and people are already wrecked." You started casually, as you looked at all the drunk people roaming around, dancing.

"Yeah, And in about 20 minutes, Yeonjun will become one of them" Soobin answered, looking over at you with a small smile. You let out a chuckle at his funny remark, looking up at him and seeing that beautiful smile of his. Your cheeks felt warm as a smile crept up on your lips.

"Oh well, good thing there's two of us cause we all know that Yeonjun is a two-man-job" you replied, which made Soobin let out a little laugh. The beautiful sound ringing so perfectly in your ears.

"Yeah.." he looked back at the people, keeping that smile. Your heart skipped a beat, and slowly, you felt the urge creeping up on you. You wanted to confess. You knew confessing in a party with music blasting and people being all crazy wasn’t the most romantic, but you couldn’t hold back these feelings anymore. this was the time. You wanted to tell him how you felt.

"Soobin I have something to tell you.." you felt nervous, as your voice evidently shook a bit. your heartbeat speed up, as small sweat drops formed on your forehead. This was more nervwrecking than you thought.

"What is it Y/N?” the way he said your name so softly and how he kept that smile on his beautiful lips. You loved it.

Before you could continue your sentence, a sudden distraction occurred when someone accidentally bumped right into Soobin, falling head first into his arms. Quickly, he grabbed the person by the arms, trying to help the person in question finding their balance. Before you knew it, they looked up. She was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. You almost blushed when you saw her beautiful features complimenting her in every way.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" She was evidently embarrassed, her voice not sounding slurred or anything, she was probably a bit more on the sober side. She looked apologetic as she kept apologizing for literally launching at Soobin, but Soobin was kind. Giving her that dimpled smile and telling her that everything was fine.

"No it's okay!" Soobin quickly replied, he took a good look at the girl in front of him, even he looked stunned at her beauty, you noticed a small blush forming on his cheeks. You were paralyzed.

"I was just trying to get to the kitchen and suddenly someone came out of nowhere and pushed me.." the girls voice was soft, and she seemed so sweet. Soobin couldn't help but stare at her fondly, inspecting every bits of her. He was truly mesmerized.

You heart took a turn, this was the last thing you wanted. You confession directly flew out the door. There’s no way you could confess now. Maybe this was for the better..? Never had Soobin ever looked at you that way. You felt defeated.

"Don't worry. We all know being sober in a room with drunk people are bound to cause trouble." Soobin said, making the girl laugh.

"Yeah haha, they love coming out of nowhere.." She continued, and to that you were just watching intently as the girl and Soobin made conversation. It seemed so casual, like they've known each other their whole life. And you could see a faint blush on Soobin’s cheeks.

"My name is Soobin, and yours?"

"Yujin, nice to meet you Soobin" they shook hands, looking at each other with adoration. While completely ignoring you.

You couldn't handle the sight and slowly slinked your way out of the situation. Sure, meeting a new person is fine, especially if they seem as nice as her. But why did they have to ignore you? You were standing right there, watching their moves intently. Couldn’t you at least get a ‘hi’ or an introduction from soobin? No, your presence was too invincible.

You could feel tears pricking your eyes but you tried your hardest keeping them in. You didn't want to cause a scene and especially in front of Soobin. You didn’t come to this party for your own entertainment, you came to support Soobin. If he was happy without your company, then you had to accept it.

Slowly you made your way to a new bare wall, a bit afar from Soobin and Yujin, you could still observe them talking. And so you did, occasionally looking down at your phone and texting a few people. You wanted to go to Yeonjun but he was dancing crazy on the dance floor which you had expected. so you just decided to keep leaning towards that white wall. Luckily, you had your phone, you could distract yourself easily by playing on it for a few hours. Still, the growing feeling of sadness didn’t ease of your mind. You were disappointed to say the least, this was suppose to be a night you confessed. But everything changed so quickly, in a heartbeat.

As time ticked, Soobin and Yujin were still talking. for the first time in a long time, you looked over at them. surprised to see Soobin holding a red cup. When did he get that drink? I didn't even know Soobin liked alcohol.. You shrugged it off, knowing that Soobin is a responsible person and you were just too tired to even think straight.

Quietly, you tapped on Soobin’s shoulder, he looked down at you with surprise.

"Oh hey Y/N. What is it?" His voice was a bit harsh, as if he didn't want to get interrupted talking to Yujin at this time. It made your heart sink, you just wanted to get out of there quickly.

"Hey Soobin soo,” you paused and looked up at him more clearly, he was anticipating your sentence, clearly wanting to go back to whatever him and Yujin talked about. Eager to keep hearing whatever she had to say.

“..I'm really tired and I think I wanna go home now so.."

"Oh.." he didn’t know what else to say, but it was enough for you to understand that you would leave this party alone. You felt you hear crumble, tears pricking your eyes. He had promised to walk you home that night, since he knew it was quite a walk and being a Saturday night it might be dangerous. But now you knew that walking home together were no longer an option. You nodded and made your way out the crashed house, ascending into the dark streets of Seoul.

As soon as you had turned a block, tears fell down you soft red cheeks, and a quiet sobbing followed by that. Thinking back, it was good that you never confessed, cause it was obviously one-sided all along. It was clear that he liked Yujin. You couldn't stop feeling such pain in your chest as you thought back to that scene of him and her talking, just letting you stand by all alone. How he never once, looked over his shoulder to see if you still were there, or even hesitating when he noticed your small disappointed face when he waved you off. He said he enjoyed your company, and he’s suppose to be your best friend. How could one girl make everything change so drastically?

Now you were walking home, alone. Crying, freezing and heartbroken.

You were angry at Soobin for letting this happen, but also angry at yourself. For thinking that you even had a chance with him in the first place.

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Finally you came home without incident. You locked the door and slipped of you shoes before sluggishly making your way towards your bedroom. The crying had stopped now, but the depressive aura was still there. And so you fell onto your bed letting out a loud sigh.

After playing with your phone for almost 3 hours at the party, it was dead, so you plugged it in and made your way towards the shower. It was nice letting some steam off as you took your time in the warm shower.

You hair now wrapped around in a towel, along with you dressed in a pajamas. You made your way back towards the bed, reaching for your phone on the nightstand and turning it on. Your screen flashes the notification box, showing 5 missed calls and 11 messages from Soobin. You were chocked, why had he so desperately tried contacting you? Quickly you dialed him back.

He picked up immediately.

"Y/N! Aahh, Finally you picked up!” He sounded hysterical, but you heard how his voice tried calmed down, trying to compose his breathing again.

“Where are you? I thought we were going home together." Had he forgotten the whole ‘I want to go home?’ Conversation? This was ridiculous.

"Soobin. I told you that I wanted to go home and you just told me goodbye before continuing talking to that girl.. so I went home alone." You couldn't believe that he actually forgot that conversation because he was so invested in Yujin, which only made you more upset.

Soobin was quiet, probably trying to find his words. After a while, you could hear a tired sigh.

"I- I'm so sorry Y/N. God, I'm such an idiot. Please let me make it up to you.."

You could hear regret in his voice, he felt guilty for sure. but still that sourness didn't disappear,

"I can come over and we can watch a movie or have a sleepover.." you heard the desperate attempt to make his situation better but only silence fell from your lips.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now. I'm really tired so I'm going to bed but, but I guess I'll see you around." You were harsh in your tone, just like he was an hour ago. And to that you hung up before he could even answer you. For some it may seem harsh, but to you it felt like a good start to try forgetting him.

Cause you were now a 100% that being with him would never happen.

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Early morning came, and you felt the sun shining on your skin. It was a nice October morning, one that you’d have the urge to sit by a cafe and watch the beautiful autumn leaves flow by as the wind drifted them away. The apartment was quiet. And you comfortable woke up to the sound of the city waking up. As you made your way toward the kitchen, wanting to get started on some breakfast. The doorbell rang. Quickly you made your way to the wooden door. Turning the handle without checking who it was first.

"Soobin?" Was the first word that came out, you were chocked to meet eyes with your tall friend. He looked tired, had soft eyebags and messier hair, but he stilled looked stunning. You imagined if that would be how Soobin looked like waking up next to him. Feeling his soft skin and touches.

"Hey can I come in?" Soobin looked at you with sweet eyes while holding up a bag of snacks. You knew this was his way of redemption, trying to make it up to you.

Before you could answer Soobin spoke up again,

"Please, I really want to make it up to you.." his voice still calm, but showing so much emotions. And his eyes pleading with guilt. You couldn't resist him. You were close caving in, inviting him inside and letting him win over you once more. But you had to refuse,

"I'm sorry Soobin, but I'm busy today.." you didn't look up at him to see his reaction, but you noticed how he let out a loud sigh.

"Okay then.. well you can just call me whenever you're free." And with that he set the bag of snacks down and made his way from your door. You promptly closed the door behind him and sighed to yourself. You didn't want to reject him like that, but you also couldn't handle being so hopelessly in love with him. This the best way to dismiss your feelings, in better words. Stop loving him.

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"Hey Y/N! I’m waiting for you by the ice-cream store already!" Yeonjun’s positive tone made you feel better.

"Okay sure, I’ll be there in 10 minutes." A faint chuckle let out from your lips.

"Okay! Bye!" And to that you hung up the phone.

It has gone by a few weeks since that party. And your terms with Soobin wasn't the best at the moment. He had stopped trying to make it up to you, which seemed like a good thing, but he started seeing Yujin more and more. Apperantly they exchanged phone numbers and they've been going out together. Jealousy overcame you, you didn't want this to happen. But still, you can’t control how Soobin felt towards other, this was your problem to bare. Your selfishness was the reasoning for this. So you had to make up for it by yourself.

You quickly slipped on your shoes before heading out the door.

After a 5 minute walk you saw the mentioned Ice-cream shop that you and Yeonjun wanted to try out. Yeonjun stood outside the shop, tall and handsome, and along side him was... Soobin.

You cursed Yeonjun for not telling you that Soobin also were invited, you were in the middle of operation-forget-Soobin and it was impossible if Soobin was in your presence. You knew that as soon as you met his beautiful eyes you were bound cave in once more. But there was no turning back now, Yeonjun spotted you and loudly shouted for you to hurry. And so you did. Soobin looked at you, his eyes inspecting your every move. you could feel your heartbeat quicken. This was awkward, you haven't answered any of Soobin’s texts or phone calls and now you were on your merry way to meet him face to face.

"I'm so excited, I've been craving Ice-cream the whole day!" Yeonjun put his arm around you before happily entering the shop. It was a lot of people there, hence it being a new place. You stood at the queue and waited. Soobin was behind you. you could feel his gaze watch over you as you tried your best to ignore him. His presence was unbearable, and your heartbeat kept quickening.

Slowly he leaned closer to you and bent down towards your ear.

"You look nice today.." his tone was sweet and soft. Your breath hitched at his action. Dammit Soobin. You tried your best to continue ignoring him, instead looking over at Yeonjun and tried starting a conversation.

“Should I get Oreos or caramel as a topping?”

......

After 10 minutes you all had finally gotten the ice-cream you craved and stood outside the shop in the nice October sunlight. Digging in immediately. Yeonjun enjoyed his ice-cream loudly, complimenting it every second he got. Soobin on the other hand was gentle and licked small portions, not making any sound at all. It impressed you that such different people can become such good friends.

There was an awkward silence between the three of you, which only you and Soobin noticed. Yeonjun was too invested in his ice-cream to even notice the tension you and Soobin had built up.

It was uncomfortable, feeling Soobin’s eyes pierce onto you, trying to get your attention. At this point you knew he was desperate for winning you back. He missed his best friend. But you didn't oblige, you kept the determination to ignore him and stared at the ice-cream, trying to wave off his intensive stare.

Yeonjun finished of his ice-cream with a loud sigh and looked at you with a big smile.

"Best mint chocolate ice-cream I've ever had!" He chuckled as he made his way towards the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" You asked quickly, he pointed towards the inside and mumbled about tissues. Before you could intervene and follow him inside he closed the door behind him.

Making you and Soobin stand outside there all alone.

Curse you Yeonjun for being so ignorant, there's no way you can make it out of this situation without awkward tension.

You let out a loud sigh and looked down at the ground. Continuing to lick your ice-cream. Soobin was quiet, but he kept his stare. You just wanted this situation to end as quick as possible.

"Y/N, I know you're angry at me.. I know I screwed up.." he started, you could hear his voice cracking a bit. But you didn't dare to look up at his expression. You kept listening,

"But please, listen to me when I tell you that I am genuinely sorry. I miss you, you know.." his tone was desperate, he truly meant every word. You knew him long enough to know how he sounds like when he's at the point of breaking.. At this point, you couldn’t take it anymore. The feeling of neglecting everything you have inside your heart was breaking you slowly, and you just couldn't take it.

You were quiet for a bit, but you let out a small sigh before starting,

"Soobin, I just feel so betrayed and disappointed.. you left me.. because of this girl, like this new girl was more important than your.. best friend.." you sounded so selfish and pathetic as your strong voice ended with a quiet whimpering as tears prickled your eyes. Soobin looked confused, his lips were trembling, so were his hands. But slowly he reached out to your hand. His soft touch feeling your cold hand. He held onto it and started caressing it with his thumb.

"I am sorry.." his voice was low, and he cursed at himself for not giving you a better respond, but he didn't know what to say. For being such a cool headed guy, he never knew what to do in situations like these. When someone was deeply hurt and the reasoning for it, was him.

As he looked down at you, something in his mind wasn't adding up. He still couldn't put a finger down why you were so disappointed as you were. Sure, the situation at hand was not something to just look past, but your demeanor and reaction was a bit different for a thing like this.

"Y/N, I am truly sorry.. I'm sorry for leaving you, ignoring you and forgetting you.." you just nodded as a response, keeping your head low.

“I will never do that again, ever. You are so important to me, and I don’t want to hurt you again.” He once again sounded desperate, but you knew his words were genuine. He really did treasure your friendship. Before you could respond, he started,

"But I need to know.., is there something else that I've done towards you?" His question took you by surprise. You knew Soobin wouldn't be satisfied with nothing but the truth. So you opted the only option left, It was time to say it. Your voice was trembling, and you slowly looked up at his eyes, tears prickling at your own. Slowly you opened your mouth, wording.

"Soobin.. I'm in love with you.."

you voice was shaking, and your heart at this point was about to burst. His eyes widened at the statement, and he let go of your hand.

It fell quiet between the two of you, only the city ambiance filling the quietness between you.

Say something dammit.. this was nervwrecking. He was just staring at you with wide eyes, not expecting to hear such deep words coming from you. You couldn’t help but fiddle with your fingers, waiting and waiting for his answer.

Just say something! Anything..!

He was quiet, shocked. You couldn’t take it anymore. You spoke up, tears now falling.

"I know you don't like me back, because of the way you.. look at her, I just know.." Soobin was quiet, his mind was in chaos trying to register and analyze what you just said.

"I'm.. sorry.." his voice was trembling, just like yours. He once again cursed himself for not giving you a better answer, here you are spilling you heart out, being vulnerable. And all he could do was say sorry. idiot.

you gave him a small nodded, as a appreciative smile crept up on your lips. You were grateful that the answer was clear as day, and that you could finally move on. You backed away a bit.

"It was nice while it lasted, you were a good friend Soobin.. and I hope you treat her well.." you couldn’t be there anymore, there was no reason to keep seeing that face he made. He looked shocked, almost in disbelief. It was too much to bare.

you turned around and threw what was left of the ice-cream into the trash bin. Before quickly walking away, leaving Soobin alone. He knew following you was pointless, it would just make the situation at hand worse. But he couldn’t help but to feel guilt and regret creeping up on him. Why couldn’t he say what he really thought..?

Yeonjun finally came out after a couple of minutes.

"Sorry for making you wait so long, I went to the restroom as well soo.." he trailed off when he noticed that you had left.

"Where did Y/N go.? Did they also go to the restroom?” Yeonjun looked over at Soobin, who was now looking down onto the pavement.

"They didn't feel well and went home.." Soobin said, a very blunt and obvious lie. Yeonjun sensed it, but he didn’t want to further question, this wasn’t his business. A loud sigh escaped his lips.

"That’s too bad, I really like hanging out with them.." Yeonjun was visibly upset. Scratching his head roughly.

"Yeah, Me too..”

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A/N:

God I absolutely love pure angst, and I’ve always had a thing for unrequited love. Idk why

I wanted to end this in a sad note once again, hope you don’t mind :,)

I’ll probably do a more fluff next time and I was leaning against Yeonjun or Hueningkai. But I’m not sure.

If you have any ideas or suggestions, go ahead and send them in my ask box! I’d love to hear your ideas!

Either way, I want to say thank you for all the amazing response I got from Rainy Days. I was so nervous when posting but you all are so sweet!

Ty for reading, Byeee❤️

This work belongs to @Beomeli on tumblr. Please do not trace or copy my work ©

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squeeneyart · 3 years

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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 19

AO3

Beta reader is @thesnadger!

Social interaction has its pros and cons.

Martin considers a way to pass the time.

Technically, there was no call that night.

Martin had had months to familiarize himself with the strange predawn that added a little color to the sky each morning. His home was on the western coast, so of course he didn’t see much of it until he’d made the trek uphill. With some cloud cover and dense fog, though, the light would scatter and cast a cold blanket of grey light over his corner of the world.

Early on he found it sort of nice, seeing the world ‘wake up’. He’d even started to get up earlier than necessary, just to make himself some tea and look out the window for signs of birds or other creatures who made their lives at dawn and dusk. There were some lines of poetry about it somewhere in his notebook, something about the magic of a quiet morning in solitude.

He’d lasted about a week with that. Turned out his life was already quiet and full enough of contemplative solitude, and warm blankets were much better than cold kitchen tile against his feet.

It was during this little sliver of morning when his mobile, vibrating against the wood of his bedside table, dragged him back to consciousness.

“No…” he groaned, nuzzling into his pillow. It could only be one person. “Don’t make me come in early. Don’t make me come in early, you prick-”

He reached over (god it was cold) and grabbed the offending object, keeping as much of himself under the blankets as possible and slipping the mobile back under with him. The screen was bright and painful in his cozy darkness. His eyes adjusted, and on his lockscreen the time read 4:06 a.m.

Before he could convince himself to let the damned thing ring itself out, he glanced at the caller ID. If anything it should’ve given him even more reason to let the call go, but Martin’s finger was already pressing the answer button.

Attempting to whisper, his voice came out rough and croaky. “Jon?”

“Martin. Glad you’re still up,” Jon said in that distant way of someone paying attention to another task entirely. Keyboard clicks could be heard in the background. “How are you doing?”

Still up? Bleary and confused, Martin replied as if he’d just run into Jon at the store, “Fine, I guess? How are you?”

“I’ve successfully whittled down my assignments enough to have personal research opportunities.” There was a weary but nevertheless triumphant edge to his words. “If this is some sort of test of my abilities, I’d say I deserve a raise.”

“Impressive,” Martin yawned. “Does that mean anything for me, or…”

“No, not yet.” He could feel Jon deflate on the other end. “I’ve only just started looking, and Elias is still acting rather blasé about what we found. I hadn’t pegged him as the type to put business relations over the mission statement, but if that’s the case then-”

“Why send you out here?”

“Precisely.” Jon clicked his tongue. “So I’m going to pry in that direction while digging through old reports. I assume the others will do the same once they’re caught up.”

Well, progress was as good as anything to wake up to. He reluctantly pulled the blankets from over his head and peeked out at his window. The frost was just visible at the edges, its frigid hands creeping across the glass. Perhaps a little while longer under the covers.

“Anyway, I’m glad I caught you,” Jon continued, filling the space Martin had left empty. The keyboard taps had ceased. “I’d decided to give you some breathing room, but you were quiet during the call with everyone and I thought- well, I wanted to make sure you were okay. As much as can be expected.”

A small, halfhearted smile found its way onto Martin’s face. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“So… are you okay? I know you said you were, but it sounded like you were being polite.”

Martin looked up at his ceiling. “I mean I was being polite, but… Yeah, I’m okay. As much as can be expected, like you said, but okay.”

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“What? Nothing, it’s good. I’m gl- I’m happy that you’re… doing okay.” Midway between this thought, Jon seemed to switch the mobile from one ear to the other. “If you aren’t, I just hope you know that you can tell me if something is going on. Sometimes there are emotional aspects that contribute to an event-”

As Jon spoke at length, Martin noticed a distinct tumbling feel in the way Jon spoke, like his thoughts were coming faster than his mouth could follow. Not alcohol, surely? No, a different idea had been bothering Martin since Jon had first called.

“-can’t speak for Tim or Sasha about hours, and if you’d rather just talk one-on-one, I’m sure-”

“Right, hours. Jon, I don’t mean to pry, but have you slept at all?”

The stream of consciousness halted in its tracks. “What?”

“You seem a bit… out of it? Have you checked the time recently?”

A moment passed. Then another. Then- “That can’t be right.”

Weakly, Martin replied, “Good morning to you, too.”

“I-” Jon began. He then made a small, irritated noise. “I woke you up.”

Martin ran a hand over his face and pressed it to his upturned mouth. Into it he mumbled, “You really need to sleep.”

As if the hours had finally come crashing down upon him, Jon’s voice dropped low and soft and properly tired. “I could’ve sworn it was earlier.”

“I mean, in a sense-”

“You know what I mean.” A yawn finally broke through, but he fought it back down. “I hope it wasn’t too much earlier than your normal wake-up time?”

“Nah. You’ve seen how early my day starts. Besides, my alarm isn’t the most pleasant thing to wake up to, and you could’ve been Peter calling me in early.” It was like getting up to enjoy the morning, but he was still in bed and someone else was there (sort of). As far as he was concerned, the pros outweighed the cons.

“Then I’ll hold my apology for a later date, if you don’t mind.” He spoke bluntly, but possibly in a way that was meant to be funny. Martin was still working out when Jon was being blunt in a rude way or in a friendly way, and his gut pushed him toward the latter. “I also won’t apologize for my work ethic. I work better at night, without distractions or other people.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Martin asked, “Okay, I can play along with that, but when do you sleep?”

“We have a cot.”

Martin scoffed. “What, at work?” An image of the three researchers finding different corners in some dark back room to snooze on company time was almost too much.

“Working after-hours is implied in the description of any academic job. If we didn’t steal some of the day back to sleep, we’d all have dropped dead by now.” For a moment his voice strained as if he was stretching, dipping into the background before returning to normal. “Though this past week has been a bit more extreme due to circumstances. I’m not always up until dawn, calling people in a stupor.”

“First time for everything?” Martin said helpfully, pushing down weakly against the rising guilt. “I know it’s a bad situation, but I’m sorry you all have to work so hard.”

“No need for that. I can choose to sacrifice a few nights for something important.”

Slowly, very slowly, Martin pressed his burning face into his pillow. Maybe it was too early for him after all, to handle anything approaching concern. The heat was surely enough to melt the ice right off the window. Ignoring the ridiculous reaction happening in his cheeks, he turned his face back upwards and mumbled, “Thanks.”

There was a small rustling of papers. With the same damned softness, Jon continued, “I’m sure Tim and Sasha would say the same.”

A quiet thing clung deep in Martin’s throat, and in his nose, and he imagined a version of himself from the night before, scared and powerless and ready to dump any and all his feelings on the first person who would speak with him. Would that have been something Jon was prepared for, if he’d called at a sensible hour? Or if Martin had called first? But it was nearly morning, and he was well rested, and eventually the thought fell away in his wakefulness.

Without a response to go on, Jon said, "I’m not going to be as… outwardly optimistic as before, but…”

“You’re making progress,” Martin finished, coughing lightly. “I know. I’ll be patient, and careful. It’s hard after the weird stuff we did last week, though.”

“I’d like to say it was all due to extreme circumstances, but we are just like this.”

“There go my hopes of you all getting proper rest when this is over.”

“S’not impossible, but terribly unlikely.”

Martin sighed, checking his screen clock again. Still some time left. “Is it safe to assume you won’t be sleeping at this point?”

“Won’t be long until I can go to the archives. I’ll wait until then and avoid being groggy on public transit.” A pause. “Also my last energy drink is still working.”

“Mm.” Letting his forearm fall across his eyes, Martin gave up that particular battle. “Anything new set off your ‘fake’ alarms recently?”

“You’re in luck. Just yesterday a man came in to tell me about his experience with ‘spy birds’ that even you can’t devil’s-advocate your way through.”

“I’ll be the judge.”

It was a tough sell, even for Martin whose own situation made a lot of things seem possible. Midway through he even began to resent the person for wasting time better spent solving Martin’s problems, but that was an emotional rabbit hole for another time. By the end he had to concede that it was more of a conspiracy than a supernatural encounter, if they were going to get into the semantics of it. Still, Jon made it easy to be contrarian.

“When we’re not busy with all this,” Jon said, accepting that Martin wasn’t yet ready to forgo the benefit of the doubt, “I’ll be happy to sit outside and film birds all day for the sake of science, but the man finds perfectly normal birds unsettling.”

With a silly kind of bullheadedness, Martin replied, “Plenty of seabirds around here. Maybe that’s what I’ll do while I wait for something to happen.”

Jon snorted. “I expect a full report by Monday.”

Before Martin could respond, his phone made an all too familiar and dreadful noise. He really should’ve picked a song or something, he thought as he dismissed his alarm. “Well, it’s that time.”

“Yes, I should be getting along with my morning as well. Good luck with your birdwatching,” he said with joking scorn.

“Have fun sleeping on the bus.”

“Ha ha. Goodbye, Martin.”

“Bye.”

Dropping his arm onto the bed, mobile in hand, Martin ignored the numbness in his fingers and considered how invested he was in writing a fake report about birds just to see the reaction it would get. Maybe he would text Tim about it.

The idea sat in the back of his mind as he got dressed, as he made breakfast, as he put on his shoes and coat and hat. When he opened the door to meet the cold that had settled in overnight, he couldn’t help but wince at the extra bit of sting the wind delivered, but he clung to his fanciful little idea all the way up the hills and through town.

Creative writing had never been his strong suit. It was debatable if poetry was, but he’d reached a point where it was more of a comforting activity than a skill. Still, as he got to work in the blessedly empty lighthouse, he thought of the little notebook he’d stashed into his bag. If it all came to nothing, he could end up with scraps of text to rearrange into poetry someday.

It was a mess of a book. Technically bound, it was still cheap with some pages starting to come loose from his handling. He’d long ago given up on the idea of a nice looking notebook, especially as it had become personal enough to count as horribly embarrassing. It was inevitable for any poetry notebook of his to become more akin to a scattered, flowery journal of sorts, and this one was no different.

It was also a step up from previous ones in that it wasn’t some spiral-bound school notebook he’d found in the discount section of the general store. No, he had found it in a bookstore discount section. The stiff cover even had sort of a nice texture before he’d beaten it up by shoving it into a drawer a million times.

The day crawled by with no interruptions, leaving Martin on edge. Peter hadn’t come by once. Perhaps he’d assumed Martin had had any boldness scared out of him, an aggravating thought. He had the will to act. He also had some amount of self preservation left in him, that was all.

By lunchtime he was itching to talk to anyone, but texting the others was off limits and it was so dreary outside that going out to eat was a non-starter. He supposed he could stop by the grocery store. He knew some of the people from when he’d worked there. Most of the ones he’d worked with had also left, but maybe…

No, that was a stupid idea. He wasn’t seeing anyone unless they came to him.

No one did.

So in his time off the clock, he stared at his little notebook and hoped his brain would think of anything to say.

The weather had taken a more miserable turn by the time he’d left work in the evening. He only saw a few birds struggling in the gales, none of them particularly watchful. If he had to guess, they didn’t care much about what anyone was doing. Not great material for a report, but maybe for a poem when the feeling hit.

The streets were largely empty as people avoided the high winds and mist that sprayed against Martin’s glasses, making it a challenge to see anything around him. He had half a mind to just stow them away, but there was going to be water in his eyes no matter what he chose to do. Just another little thing to make his day worse that he couldn’t change.

Part of him considered that the weather often matched his mood, but it wasn’t hard for bad weather to pair with sour thoughts. Nearly all weather was bad and nearly all moods were sour. Correlation, etcetera.

As much as he’d wanted to check his phone as soon as work was over, the others could wait until he’d stopped feeling so damned sorry for himself.

And he did feel awful, though there was no inciting incident. It had been a long, tedious day where the words wouldn’t flow, the world was grey, and any residual happiness from his conversation with Jon had been slowly eaten away by the loneliness of the present. Why was it so hard to hold onto those good things? A good start was supposed to make the day better, not make the rest of the day look worse.

It had to be everything at the lighthouse. He’d always been moody as a person, but the stress had to be getting to him. His head shouldn’t have been hurting from holding back tears when nothing had happened.

God, the squinting wasn’t helping, either. He knew where he was going, of course, but the streetlights were barely helping. The sky had decided to paint itself over everything, a dark, grey blob of water and concrete and fog. The walk down the hill was going to be a slippery pain, even in his grippy boots.

Had he passed by the florist? He probably should have by now, but the main road hadn’t ended yet.

And even when he got home, oh joy, it would be to sit at a table and eat with his mother, and based on her tastes she would love to stand outside in the misery of it all even though it would be terrible for her health. What was the point of trying when another person wouldn’t even listen-

He’d been walking for too long.

The road continued on, no longer heading into the surrounding trees but stretching itself past the point of impossibility. And at the end, in a place where it should not have been visible through the colorless mist, was a large, familiar house.

Ah, Martin thought. Someone had decided to talk to him today.

Looking behind him, the lighthouse was just barely visible. Looking to either side was a fool’s errand, as everything had been consumed by the grey.

He slipped the mobile phone out of his pocket and bent over to shield it from the rain. The screen lit up at his touch, but as expected any and all communication was blocked. Nevertheless, he opened the group chat and began to type.

Martin: i think simon wants to talk. everything is fog and i cant go anywhere else. hoping my phone makes it out so this makes it

He pressed send, then mustered up whatever hope he had and added:

Martin: talk to you soon

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au

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dabis-devil · 4 years

Text

Nothing Breaks Like a Heart. დ

-; ♡.° [ A/N: ] ୭̥ Okay so this idea just popped into my head and I couldn't not write it. This is my first fic and I really hope it doesn't blow over, let's hope for the best, loves! If Dabi ain't Touya, I'm gonna be a real fool, huh?

-; ♡.° [ Warnings: ] ୭̥ Gn!reader, Swearing, Suggestive content, sO mUcH aNgsT

-; ♡.° [ Summary: ] ୭̥ Everybody knows the infamous villian Dabi, his name spreads fear across the streets of Japan. Many would hate to admit it, but he wasn't always cold and alienated. It all bubbles down to one girl, who left his heart in shambles.

-; ♡.° [ Tag list: ] ୭̥ birthday girl! @queensynderella (👾 here)

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

It was a brisk Friday night, cool air hitting Touya's pale skin. Bandages clothed his forearms, which seemed to be more burnt every time the redhead came to see y/n. These burns inflicted by his quirk hadn't yet damaged his skin to the point of no repair, but it most definitely wasn't perfect. His large hands fumbled with the clasp of the gate to his home, Touya found himself sneaking out to see y/n more often than not. Enji claimed he was hitting the rebellious stage of his adolescence, little did he know that this would become his son's day to day life.

Against his better judgement, Touya was nineteen and still living at home. He had no where else to go, and he had siblings to rescue from their nightmare of a father. He desperately wanted to take shouto from the unfair wrath of their old man, but he was unable to do so. Instead, he would sweep his brother up into a tight hug whenever he mustered the chance. That poor kid, getting tossed around and neglected. His heart went out to young Shouto.

Touya’s figure was clothed in a baggy black tank top with black jeans and a dark zip up hoodie paired with a pair of black boots (you can @ me on this, he was edgy before dabi became dabi). He had his signature nose studs and additional ear piercings at his time too. He was working on getting a job of his own, something to get him money and fast. After that he would move out, hopefully taking his siblings with him.

As of now, y/n is the only rabbit hole he has. The only escape from his everyday terrors. That's why he was walking alone on the streets around twelve a.m., counting down the very minutes until he could reach their address. The lit cigarette hanging from his lip left a trail of smoke in its midst, that could barely be seen even with the midnight glow. His steps were shallow and speedy, hellbent on getting over to y/n’s place. Seeing that beautiful face every night is what brought him joy, and made carrying on each morning that much easier.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

Y/n was sprawled across their bed, carefree and unalert. Like most teens, they wouldn't go to sleep early. They had training tomorrow with the rest of class 4-A, but couldn't sleep. Not with the thoughts pooled in their head, that they sat to contemplate and overthink. Y/n grew distant to their dear boyfriend, Touya, and the guilt weighed a ton. Though the weight of what news you planned to share with him tonight is a million times heavier.

Y/n’s (e/c) eyes we're glued to their phone screen, set on a picture they had taken with Touya a few short weeks ago. A single tear rolled down their rosy cheeks. ' This is gonna break him. ' they thought. Y/n was pulled away from their thoughts when the glass window beside the desk gently rattled, a certain troubled redhead struggling to crawl through their window sill. Y/n frantically wiped their face before he got the opportunity to see a pinch of sadness in their expression- at least a pinch they didn't want him to notice. “ hey baby. . ” they smiled half heartedly, slipping from their cozy bedframe.

“ hey, princess, ” He smiled geekily. As Touya dusted off his jacket from the greenery and gunk that plagued the material, they pressed their plush lips to his. Truth be told they clung to him for a bit too long that night. In all fairness, this would be the last kiss they got from him.

As much as it pained y/n to do this, Touya Todoroki was bad for them.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

A little while later, the night had taken y/n. Touya laid with his arms tightly wrapped around their frame, their head atop his clothed chest. He had been falling in and out of sleep as the television played a series- one of their favorites. Y/n on the other hand, couldn't get a wink of rest. Instead, their eyes burned with the sensation to hold back tears. Finally, one spilled over their eyelid. They scrambled to wipe the droplet of moisture away before it soaked through his shirt, not only failing but drawing extra attention to theirself. Touya’s turquoise eyes fluttered open, immediately drawn to y/n. He sat up, in turn pulling them up with him. The fingers of his right hand ended up under their chin, magnetizing his gaze to their own. “ doll, what's wrong? ” he cooed, eyebrows knitted at y/n’s profound sadness.

Y/n did everything in their power to keep their eyes peeled, the only working strategy was simply squeezing them shut. Y/n could no longer hold back the water works, the fluid boiled over and rolled down their pained face. Y/n didn't need eyes to see Touya’s small frown, they could feel it. “ T-Touya. . . ” their breath hitched in the back of their throat. “ we need to talk. ” Y/n’s voice was shakey, and this whole scene was quite frankly uncomfortable considering how out of touch Touya is with his emotions.

Y/n felt Touya stiffen underneath them, and opened their eyes to catch him staring. Turquoise eyes half lidded as usual. He is obviously concerned, one masculine hand rubbing circles into y/n’s back. He kept quiet, giving them the time they need to spit out their burden. “ I. . I can't do this anymore. I can't watch you kill yourself. ”

In more ways than one, Touya had proven destructive. Not only that, but he didn't care. The redheads loving embrace faded, instead it just seemed like a stranger was holding them close. Y/n didn't want to imagine how this made him feel, even worse about how he would pretend to feel. “ I- what? Whad’ya mean? ” Touya scrunched his nose in confusion. “ my quirk? ” the male asked. Sadly he missed the point, and this wouldn't be as simple as they hoped. Maybe he didn't want to accept the truth so soon.

Y/n’s shakey palm met the side of his face, sweeping along his sharp jaw. “ you get high all the time, you don't trust me, you've been so distant these last few weeks. . And when I try to check on you, I get shut down. ” a steady stream of tears now rolled down their cheek. “ I've been thinking about it for a while, Touya. . ” y/n’s choked up sobs filled the room, his silence wavering in their mind. Touya was trying to make sense of the situation, or come up with false feelings. It stung to know that he felt his emotions are invalid. “ I'm so sorry, I just. . I can't baby. ”

Touya was a sitting statue on your bed, his turquoise orbs glued to the sheets. The things you two have done. . The memories. . The plans for the future. . All swirling down the drain. “ I can stop. ” his voice distantly aching with sorrow. his head swiveled towards y/n, giving them all the attention he could. The poor boy was loosing it, just at the possibility of losing the one person that mattered most to him. His anchor

“ I've already tried to get you help. You wouldn't take it. ” y/n frowned softly. “ I can't believe that again. . ” though the last thing they wanted right now was to separate themselves from Touya in his time of need, it was far too much to bare. After all, you can't help someone that doesn't want to be helped.

Y/n slowly wiggled out of the redhead's embrace, instead sitting across from him and holding one bandaged hand within their own. Y/n was begging for him to say something, to say anything. Instead, they would gaze at a shell of what used to be Touya.

“ y/n, please- ” the scarred teen pleaded. His expression was something in a sea of despair, yet he couldn't quite express that. He couldn't cry. All he could do was sit across from y/n and hope they could forgive him, hope that he could fix his issues. His chest was heavy, each rise and fall more tense than the last. “ I'm sorry. . Let me fix this. Please. . ? ” frantic words jumbled, something that made y/n pull him into their arms, and rest his head in the crook of their neck. Droplets of clear water fell down their face, seeing him like this was unbearable. It had to be done.

Fingers combed through the boys spiky red hair, his rapid breathing slowed to a calm. Y/n pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “ I love you, but I can't do this anymore. ” their soft whispers were almost tranquil to Touya, despite the underlining meaning. This voice he cherished each night, he just had to hear it a bit more before he made his exit. “ don't forget that, okay? If you're better in the future, maybe we could try this again. ” they reassured, petting his silky locks.

Touya pulled away, head still hung. “ This is. . This is what you want? ” He looked upwards, turquoise orbs burning into y/n’s, hoping for the answer he expected to be wrong.

“ yeah, ” y/n answered under their breath, breaking the precious concentration on his beautiful eyes.

Touya rose from the bed, reaching for his leather jacket and pulling on his boots. Shortly after, heading for the window. The silence was more than just that, it was the lack of an idea on what to do here. Y/n decided to stand up as well, arms crossed over their chest. “ I- uh- ” he cleared his throat, tugging open the window. “ I'll see you around then. ” he managed to catch a last glimpse of the love of his life, before feeding his slim body out of the window. Tears fell from y/n’s face to the floor beneath them. As much as their fragile heart hurt right now, things would get better. It had to.

━━━━°⌜ 失恋 ⌟°━━━━

The second Touya’s boots hit the leaves beneath him, one foot sprung in front of the other. He found himself running away from y/n’s home, almost as if his life depended on it. He could barely walk, his head was spinning, chest was tight, and his dressed wounds began to ache. Yet his feet carried him away. He didn't want to go home, the thought of going back with no escape made his skin crawl. The moon above lit the teens path as he aimlessly ran.

The time escaped him, as he wound up on the bad side of town. Rumored to be crooks and thieves around every street corner, and worse beyond that. Fresh out of breath, Touya placed his hands on a wall to catch himself, knees buckling underneath the weight. He slid down the brick wall in the dimmed alleyway, scooping his knees up to his chest. He was alone, a bit scared, and heartbroken. His eyes fell shut, and his head rolled onto his knees. Before he knew it, Touya had passed out, with one thing on his mind: y/n.

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offaeandcreation · 3 years

Text

Sleep-Deprived College Student Becomes World's Strongest Cultivator By Bullshit Means

Summary:The last thing WanLi An (Ani) expected was to a) die in the most pathetic and ridiculous manner, b) wake up in the body of a villain destined to be beheaded in a war of their own making. Of course with Ani's luck, that's exactly what happened. Now Ani finds herself the ruthless, morally-questionable at best, leader of Qishan Wen, rearing two bratty children, while pretending that yes, she is absolutely Wen Ruohan. Nothing to see here! Everything is just fine. Except the universe isn't done making her life hell. "For fuck's sake, I just wanted my degree!"

Chapter 1: Holy Fucking Shit

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11+

Content Warnings: Death, Mourning, Dirty Jokes

AO3

On my gravestone, I want the following epithet: Murdered by heels via the eighth floor window. Gravity was a co-conspirator.

There she flew, like an outtake of 'It's a Wonderful Life', skirt flapping in the wind harder than a can-can dancer's. Ani, known to her angry mother as WanLi An, was NOT about to become the world's next human pudding if she had any say about it. She reached for the psychology department’s brick edges, anything to stop the fall that ended in concrete.

Supergirl, now’s your chance! Fulfill my lesbian dream!

As she waited for the inevitable hero to come swooping in, a familiar object flew past her like from the Rabbit Hole scene in ‘Alice in Wonderland’: the softcover book she’d been reading, glossy title flashing its Chinese characters, ‘Mo Dao Zu Shi’.

Oh ya, I could learn to fly on a sword!

She made a grab at it but missed, watching the wind sweep it away. Another possession flew into Ani’s line of sight: a pink tote bag with the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written on it – for A-Li. His meringues packed inside, made just for him to stuff his face with with the intention of proving that yes, he can fit five in his mouth now, all came flying out. The wind clearly wanted to take them for itself.

Those are for A-Li you air-bag!

Waving her arms around, she tried to reach for the helicoptering meringues with much gusto and much failure.The whistle in her ear might as well have been snickering.

A photograph slipped into Ani’s line of sight taken back in China of her entire family: her parents, grandmother, A-Li, days before her father died.

The wind stole the air out of her lungs. Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could while having no anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small. She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter.

No! No don’t do this!

Ani screamed at the wind that tore at her, at the grey sky that looked at her with no mercy.

I’m going to die. I can’t die- Grandmother, I can’t! Not now. I have to take care of A-Li–

A single tear kissed her cheek before floating in the air, too light to fall, before she plunged into the concrete.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Ani’s eyes shot open, a gasp escaping her lips. Her heart pounded into the pillows she was lying face-first in, breathing as if she’d just woken up from a nightmare.

She was in bed. At home. Safe. Her muscles relaxed, sinking into the mattress beneath-

Something hard resisted against her body, as if the mattress was more akin to a wooden board then memory foam. She blinked, allowing her hands to wander the bed, pressing and feeling against silky bedding.

This isn’t my bed-

Wait.

She shouldn’t even be in bed.

Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could without an anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small. She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter.

She should have died.

I fell.

I fell eight stories.

I fell eight stories onto concrete.

Ani sat up, finally looking where she was lying. She was in a large bed with a thick, silky, maroon blanket – something that her grandmother would have owned.

What the fuck?

Ani looked up. Wooden beams criss-crossed above her, holding up a low ceiling made of an unknown dark wood.

Why was there a ceiling? Wasn’t I just seconds ago falling out of a building into the concrete, outside? Where no ceilings could exist?

Ani crawled towards the edge of the bed to take a good look.

It wasn’t a ceiling, but a wooden canopy, with ostentatious diamond and floral engravings, accompanied by transparent red and black valance.

Where am I?

Ani finally looked up from the bed. Her eyes bulged. Three college classrooms couldn��t have fit within this single bedroom.

Beyond the bed, a built-in nightstand had been covered in glass bottles, some small as pennies and others like glass blown art, and torn white sheets .

Bandages perhaps? I’m supposed to be in a hospital…? This doesn’t look like a hospital bed.

Beyond, silky red and woolen carpets decorated the dark floors. Across the room, a large table sat perpendicular to the wall covered in stacks of scrolls.

Some regular-old New York City hospital most definitely wouldn’t have this – a waste of space and money.

Ani blinked. Where was the IV drip? The heart monitor? White curtains? The sink? The putrid smell of alcohol and plastic? Flowers? She definitely deserved flowers. Especially after everything.

What sorry excuse of a hospital is this?! An alt-medicine hospital?Did they give me acid? Was the whole accidentally-falling-out-of-a-building-from-the-top-floor-because-why-not sequence a dream?

Ani rubbed her eyes to make absolutely certain she wasn’t indeed hallucinating. Except, her hand felt strange, as if someone attached weights to them without asking her permission. Ani pulled at them with more force, until she smacked herself in the face. She hissed in pain, glaring at her stupid hand-

What. The. Fuck.

This wanna-be-Micky-mouse-glove abomination was abso-fucking-lutely not her hand. She brought it close, staring at the long pale fingers, razor sharp nails –absolutely a lesbian hazard – and delicate wrist. It was at least twice the size of her face, and felt…foreign. Flexible, catching more air. Ani was pretty sure she could make shoes out of these hands and comfortably walk in them and with room.

She brought up her other hand in comparison. To her utter horror, they matched!

Ani closed her eyes, hoping that somehow to conjure up her smaller, tanner, lesbian-friendly hands. She opened one eye, her kernel of hope popping

Nope.

Either Ani was tripping very hard on acid to the point that her brain forgot the importance of clipped nails, or she’d fallen eight floors and needed a transplant and the only thing available were these man-hands.

Cold pooled in Ani’s gut. Ani tossed off the blankets, scrambling to her feet. She ran towards the golden mirror attached to a nearby vanity. Despite skidding to a stop, her torso continued its trajectory until she face-planted into the floor.

“Fuck,” she bit out.

The sound that came out of her mouth was not the familiar timbre of her voice. She coughed and spoke again.

“Hello.”

It sounded so wrong. Ani spoke a few more words– “Hewwo,” “Nya-Nya,” “Nico Nico Nii,” “Motherfucker,”– before taking a deeper breath. No matter what sounds she made, the voice remained low like a choral bass singer. As low as her father’s had been. Tears welled in Ani’s eyes as she slowly tried to get to her feet, head spinning.

What’s happening? Why are my hands weird? Why is my voice weird!

Even her feet were weird: pale and big like her hands. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, trickling down her back into the collar of white robes that fell to her calves. She never could afford something like this.

Nor did hospitals supply silk robes.

She brushed the robes aside as she got to her knees, her jaw throbbing, and faced the golden mirror.

The face that stared back at her wasn’t her own.

It was a face of man, with bright, unnatural scarlet eyes.

The mirror broke.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Ani flinched at the violent crack. She looked behind her, searching for whatever had broken the mirror. Outside of the table and a sliding-door that led to who-knows-where, there was nothing that could have caused the damage.

She closed her eyes, counting to ten. Reopened them. She closed her eyes, counting to twenty. Reopened them. The same unknown male face stared back at her: long oval face, messy bed-head black hair, and vivid crimson eyes, tinted slightly by the color of the mirror. Not the round face, short dark hair and eyes that she has seen in the mirror every day for twenty-three years. Not the face she preferred.

Red eyes? Seriously? Red? Hardly realistic.

Not even albino irises were this intense. She backed away from the mirror, coming into the body’s full height. At least twice her height - which explains the sheer size of her hands and feet.

At least I’ll be able to reach the top shelves without being laughed at.

The thought quickly scurried away the longer she looked at herself. The mirror mimicked every move she made. The cracks distorted her figure– no, the man’s figure.

What’s happening? What’s going on? Why am I in this body? Is this a hallucination?

Ani mentally ran through all her psychology courses until she had an idea.

Wait, there is still one more test. People who suffer from delusions often attempt to use other senses to figure out if they truly are seeing what is in front of them. So if this is all a delusion-

Shutting her eyes, Ani stuck her hand between her legs-

Yup. That was most definitely not there before. I’m in a man’s body. Confirmed.

She groaned, sinking to the floor in defeat, resting her head on the table. Leaning her head back, she noticed the scrolls wrapped in beige ribbons.

Perhaps these documents will tell me what the hell is going on.

She pulled at the ribbons, looking for something, anything that could give her answers. She scanned the unfurled parchment, noticing a collection of vertical lines, occasionally underlined once or twice that made no sense to her. Dates?

She could understand the Chinese characters, except the style was clearly more archaic, with words that would never be used in any book that would be found at home. Except the older poetry books, because poets like to be pretentious know-it-alls.

Ani looked for writing utensils, except instead of finding pencils and pens that every self-respecting person would have, she found only bamboo brushes.

‘Want to learn?’ a memory itched at the back of her mind, floating to the surface.

Her grandmother had returned from Beijing, eyes crinkling with a smile that her bright blue face mask hid. Ten-year old Ani cried out in happiness, rushing towards the open door in only her purple floral pajamas. Her father grabbed her before she could topple her grandmother with an unexpected bear hug.

‘Ani, Ani, look what I brought you,’ she said with a familiar grin the moment she pulled down her mask under her aging chin.

From a plastic bag, she removed several shiny brushes, the bamboo wood birch-yellow, polished to a shine, and the bristles a variety of browns and white, pointy like a pencil.

Her grandmother handed them to her, ‘Now Ani, these are the brushes of our ancestors, they used to work with these so long ago to make beautiful calligraphy. Want to learn?’

With careful fingers, Ani lifted one of the brushes, running her finger over the bristles and the smooth handle. These weren’t the brushes her grandmother gave her – the handles weren’t as dark nor as smooth as the wood lacked the sheen polish that modern brushes had, and the bristles were more frayed – not supported by synthetic material. These weren’t her grandmother’s brushes but-

“Am I…in the past?”

She scanned the space around her, searching for any sign of modern technology. A fireplace, a wardrobe that most probably cost at least a quarter of her tuition, mats that most definitely were made of organic material, not the synthetic fibers of the modern age. There wasn’t a single modern artifact in the room.

“I’m in the PAST?” Ani cried out, tearing at her hair, “How did THIS happen?”

Her heart beat pounded in her ears. How? How? How? How!

“Sect Leader Wen!”

Ani yelped, grabbing a bronze candle holder as the door slid open. She backed up into the mirror, glad it hadn’t shattered earlier. Assuming whatever entered the room wasn't trying to kill her, the last thing she needed was to pay for broken property just because she stared too hard at the mirror.

A man with dull robes walked in on his knees. Their eyes met and he fell into a bow, face first into the hard wooden floors.

“We are pleased to see you awake Sect Leader!”

Yes, I’m sure you are.

“Physician Wen is being notified now,” he continued. “Is there anything that we can do for you in the meanwhile, Sect Leader Wen?”

Luckily, the servant was too busy digging his nose into the floor and quivering like a vibrator to notice the way her mouth dropped along with the candle.

Sect Leader…Wen?

The name was familiar. Too familiar. She looked past the servant, above the door to the banner that decorated the walls.

The sun symbol.

A stone dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t just traveled into the past. She’d transmigrated into the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi.

As Sect Leader Wen Ruohan.

Who was destined to die.

#oc #wen ruohan #wen xu #wen zhuliu #wen sect #mo dao su zhi #wen chao #my writing

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

Text

Username: xNotYourJoyx Pt. II

Pt.I

As expected, Joohyun is waiting outside of the office building bright and early the next morning. Her arms folded across her chest, creasing her black suit jacket and causing her spotless white shirt to bunch up around the collar. Her expression unreadable as she stares out into space, a cigarette resting between her left pointer and middle finger, the ash hanging off the end of it shows she hasn’t taken a drag from it in some time. Despite her pristine appearance, something must be going wrong, or she wouldn’t be smoking since she supposedly gave up six months ago.

Hopefully, whatever is bothering Joohyun means she’ll have forgotten all about the note with the web address written on it. However, those hopes shatter the second Seungwan comes into Joohyun’s peripheral vision as she rushes over with purpose, discarding the cigarette behind her, not as secretively as she thinks.

“Well, you certainly have a bit more of a glow about you Wannie. Does that mean you, you know…” She points downward, and Seungwan is sure her face has just turned bright purple from merely the insinuation that she had managed to finally after months of being unable to release all of her tension.

Flashes of Joy spark up inside of her head. Her body. The gentle moans. The alluring eyes that Seungwan is sure even the devil himself would fall for. It’s not hard to see why she did descend the rabbit hole that is Joy, but it’s an adventure she’d rather forget now and not rehash right outside of work with various colleagues walking past them both and filing into the building one after another.

“Hello? Are you okay?” Joohyun clicks her fingers around Seungwan’s face several times before she snaps out of her recollection of the night before. “Damn, you must have been fucking deprived.” She lets out a chuckle covering her mouth as she does so, likely to hide the cigarette breath.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

They both turn back toward the office building and step inside the heavy glass doors slowly walking to the upstairs office, Seungwan picks up her pace to evade any further questions, but once again, luck is not on her side as Joohyun’s strides quicken too.

“You’re certainly thinking about it, what’s the harm in telling me about it?” Joohyun asks once they finally reach the room full of different computer stations, a few other colleagues who entered before them already seated and busy. The lack of conversation between stations unusual, filling the atmosphere around them with dread and worry.

“We’re at work now it isn't appropriate.” Whilst this is true, Seungwan knows she’s just pulling any excuse out of her hat now since everyone within the office has at some point or another discussed how their lives outside of the office walls are just as dull as it is within them. Well, all except Joohyun who now that Seungwan thinks about it, hasn’t revealed much of substance about what it is she does once she’s off the clock.

“Fine, be like that,” Joohyun says flatly as she heads towards her desk, she stops midway there to holler something back. “Oh, just so you know, one of the investments fell through this morning. You’re about to be told to clean it up.” She points toward the door they had both just stepped through moments before where her boss is currently entering with a face like thunder.

Great. This is just what I need, she thinks.

It takes seven hours. Seven hours of back and forth negotiations, promises of more financial backing and a hefty advertisement campaign that is far more expensive than their original budget had planned for, but she finally clears up any misunderstandings and issues the client had. Not that those seven hours receive any form of praise or appreciation. Her boss merely gives her a quick nod of the head and that is the only acknowledgment her efforts are offered.

For those seven hours, not a single thought of long legs and brown eyes had managed to burst into her mind as a distraction, but the second the telephone meeting concludes and she’s left to simply wait for the next task to pop up in front of her on the computer monitor in front of her, Joy infiltrates her head once more.

It’s no wonder that people can become addicted to such a thing, only one peek into the site, one subscription, one girl and Seungwan swears she’s losing her mind. She determines that this is exactly why she can’t ever use it again, who knows how far she would end up falling? It certainly isn’t healthy to offer up such a personal experience such as sex to merely a figure on her screen that she doesn’t even know. A figure who doesn’t even know she exists to make matters worse.

“Did you fix it?” Joohyun asks, appearing from seemingly nowhere behind the station wall and startling Seungwan out of her thoughts. She composes herself before Joohyun can pick up on her mind wandering for the second time already today, or so she believes.

“What do you think?” Seungwan responds, quirking her eyebrows upward, grin replacing the thin line her lips had been resting in, mouth dry as she speaks.

“Confidence, Wannie. I like it, it suits you,” Joohyun steps from around the wall to sit on the edge of the cluttered desk, her body resting against some of the paperwork almost knocking some of it off. “Come on, let’s go grab a coffee from downstairs, you look like you could do with a break.” She extends her hand out and Seungwan reluctantly grasps it.

The coffee in the office cafeteria is always a surprise, but Joohyun loves it for some reason always trying to drag along anyone who will join her. The stronger the better she always says which makes no sense since it tastes like something you’d find at the bottom of a sewer but she still practically chugs it down with ease. It’s been a while since Seungwan hasn't drunk any after someone spilled salt into the water section without bothering to tell anyone. However, it’s not too bad today which is a relief.

“Are you going to tell me now?” Joohyun asks tentatively. She folds her arms across her chest, in the same manner, she had this morning, however, Seungwan takes notice to the part of her neckline which is now exposed. “Hey, eyes up here.”

“I wasn’t… I don’t… no…” Before she can embarrass herself any further stumbling over her words, Joohyun interjects.

“Give it up, Wannie. I’m not blind.” She chuckles, airy, and without conviction. “I’m flattered, truly. But we’re colleagues, it would be weird, right?”

Seungwan would be lying to say that she hadn’t given it some thought before. Hell, even just the day before Joohyun had managed to make her body naturally react to her from simply eating ice cream. However, there’s a resounding “no, it wouldn’t be weird” pulsating through her head currently, compared to any other time this idea had sprung to mind where the answer was a resounding and absolute no.

“No.”

“I’m fucking with you Wannie,”

They speak at the exact same time leaving Joohyun to stare at every part of Seungwan’s face seeking clarity and honesty in her answer. Seungwan drops her head down to look at her hands in her lap, never looking back up or returning eye contact with Joohyun for the remainder of their quiet coffee break. It takes her twenty minutes to realize that Joohyun had long since returned back to work and left her to sit there alone.

Returning to her station, she still does not bother to even glance in Joohyun’s direction, though she can see that she is seated and typing away contently from the corner of her eye.

“Why on earth did you answer you, idiot?” Seungwan mutters under her breath as she sits down to her desk.

For the remaining three hours of work, there’s very little done that could make her boss happy. Instead, Seungwan spends a great portion of it mentally scolding herself, wondering how the hell she’s going to make things up to Joohyun and watching the tiny clock in the corner of her screen change numbers. People have already begun to pack up their things to leave before she realizes the day is over and done with. However, once again, Joohyun appears from out of nowhere.

“Come on, let’s go.” is all she offers Seungwan before walking out of the office doors.

Quickly grabbing her back and the coat she had placed onto the back of her chair, she scurries to follow Joohyun down the long winding steps they had ascended together this morning. When she eventually catches up to her, Joohyun is already pulling out a cigarette from the box she had stashed inside of her bag, no longer bothering to hide that her habit had returned. She pushes the box toward Seungwan offering her a turn at engaging in the vice too, however, a simple shake of the head sees it stored away inside of the bag again.

“I’m going to quit again, I just needed them today.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Joohyun.”

Joohyun simply purses her lips around the unlit cigarette and hums softly. The fluorescent red flame attracts Seungwan’s attention away from her colleagues getting into various vehicles or walking away from the building. She watches as Joohyun takes one long drag, closing her eyes as she inhales and releases the smoke from her mouth.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Joohyun doesn’t move or open her eyes still as Seungwan continues to apologize. “I just… I don’t know. Maybe my head is all messed up from using that site.”

“So you did use it?” The pair simply stare at each other for a few seconds before looking away. “Did you, um… you know..”

“Yes, but I wish I didn’t.” Joohyun doesn’t offer Seungwan a response, instead, making eye contact once more and encouraging her to continue. “I don’t know who these people are, you know? It felt strange. It was like I was using her and I didn’t like that.”

“The people who use that site to sell those images and videos are doing on their own volition, nobody is forcing them to do it.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” The two of them pause at the realization that actually, Seungwan makes a great point. “I don’t want to do it again, I felt so guilty afterward.”

The cigarette in Joohyun’s hand once more has long since burned down too far for her to continue using it, ash falling from the end to the ground. Neither of them speaks for a few moments until a red car pulls up into the parking lot cutting off the engine and horn signaling its presence. Joohyun twists to look in the direction of it and quickly drops the cigarette to the floor, yet again not so secretively.

“Shit. That’s my ride, do you need a lift back to your place?”

“Sure, thanks.”

Slowly walking toward the car, a fairly new model with not a scratch on it, Seungwan can just say make out someone in the front seat, hair visible but nothing else as they look out of the window facing away from them.

As Joohyun reaches across to open the front passenger seat, Seungwan wants her to slam it back shut and run as far away as possible as she’s greeted with the very same sight that she had watched on her screen the night before. The same face that also owns the long legs, soft moans, and alluring dark eyes she had become momentarily addicted to.

Joy. In the flesh, right before her, and she knows Joohyun somehow, well enough to be picking her up from work too. She’s real and she’s here. Why is she here? All of Seungwan’s thoughts mash against one another inside of her head threatening to spill out of her mouth if she doesn’t leave immediately.

“Are you getting in?” Joy asks her. Her voice is different from the soft and breathy one she had listened to tell her how to release all of her tension last night. It’s rough and without a single ounce of care at all.

Seungwan turns her body quickly away from the car, away from Joohyun and more importantly, away from Joy. Her feet bashing off the pavement as she sprints out of the parking lot and doesn’t stop running until she reaches home.

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ohemgeeitscoley · 4 years

Text

Rey doesn't think when she calls Ben to go into her emails to send off her draft email with her final to her professor.

It isn't until she's off the phone that she remembers all the other draft emails are to him and vary from confessing her love to him and describing in detail what exactly she wants to do to his body.

No, Rey didn't think this through at all.

These letters to you (1/1)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Note: This came from this prompt from the ReylosPrompt Twitter account.

Curious Cat Prompt: "Ben finds a draft on Rey’s email addressed to him confessing her love and lust for him."

@andyouweremine and @storiesofimagination are some of the best betas a girl could ever ask for. They make sure that my tenses stay correct and reassure me the entire time that I’m writing. They are the best cheerleaders and I wouldn’t know what to do without them. <3

Read below or on AO3.

Please pick up. Please pick up. If there is any sort of fairness in the galaxy, please pick up your fucking phone--

"Hello?" Ben's voice is low, deeper than usual. It's his mostly asleep voice. Rey hates that she has thought enough about the variances of Ben's voice to know the different tones almost as much as she hates the fact that a sleepy Ben Solo is almost always her favorite version of Ben.

Ben had been one of the first people Rey had met when she transferred in as a sophomore. He had been in his first year at the law school. They both fought for the right to study under a specific tree toward the edge of the campus. It was quiet, far enough away from the hot spots to really attract much attention or noise. The leaves were big and provided plenty of shade from the sun. The ground was soft and mostly free of any large rocks or bouts of even landscaping.

It was Rey's favorite spot.

They fought over the tree for two months, both of them refusing to leave and each attempting to annoy the other into giving the spot up. It didn't take long for them to realize that when they were just sitting under the tree, quietly, together studying, it wasn't so bad.

It was actually nice, not being alone.

Rey moved into Ben's apartment the following fall and they'd been best friends ever since.

Rey's fairly certain she's been in love with him for roughly the same amount of time.

Not that she has the time to be getting lost down that particular rabbit hole.

"Thank God, you answered," Rey responds, twisting the cord of the phone around one of her fingers. Everything about the diner she works at is a little bit kitschy and old, but having to make a call on a phone actually attached to a wall with cords is a whole different experience. "I'm so sorry I woke you up. I know you were up late studying."

"Rey?" Ben asks while yawning. Rey can hear him shuffle around in his bed. "It's not even 6 AM, is everything okay?"

"You answered," Rey smiles, hoping Ben knows that she is practically beaming at him through the phone. "Everything is going to be fine. My final paper is due at 6. On the dot. I was too nervous to send it last night when I finished it. I was going to send it in this morning, after I had a chance to at least look over it for grammar and spelling, but I'm me and I--"

"Slept through your first four alarms and barely made it out the door for work?" Ben interrupts.

"Yes." Rey sighs, rolling her eyes. "Anyways. You know I can't use my cell at work, I'm probably going to get shit for this call, and you're the only number I have memorized. So I really, really need you to get on my computer, go to my email and send in my paper. I have a draft saved and everything. All you have to do is get in my drafts folder and hit send."

"Sure," Ben agrees. "Password for your laptop?"

"Capital d-y-at sign-d-hashtag-number 3-exclamation point."

"I'm on it." Rey can hear Ben's door open, the same squeak sounding over the phone that she complains about every night when he's anxious from studying and walks back and forth from his room to the kitchen every twenty minutes. "Consider it done."

"You're the best roommate, slash friend, slash just all around hero of my life," Rey blushes, stopping just short of adding 'probably the love of my life' at the end of her sentence. Thinking about her feelings for Ben is definitely a rabbit hole she is better off to avoid. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"It's the least I can do if I'm really the only phone number you have memorized."

"It's 2020, Ben," Rey teases. "The fact that I have your number memorized is really impressive."

"Why mine?"

Rey can hear water running in the background, a cabinet opening and a drawer shutting. Rey hates that she can clearly see Ben in their kitchen, making coffee, probably with a slightly grumpy look on his face because Rey knows that she put the grinder and the filters back in the wrong spot. She hates it the same way she hates knowing that Ben won't say anything about the misplaced items to her, and that if she were home he would make her cup of coffee first.

The way Ben always takes care of her first drives Rey crazy most days.

"I figure the only time I'm ever going to need to call someone without having access to my phone would be in a real emergency. And you're the person I would want to call." Rey bites her lip, shaking her head as if she could shake away how vulnerable she sounds to her own ears. "Or, if I've been arrested. And if that's the case, you're the only lawyer I know."

Ben snorts. "I have to actually finish next semester and pass the bar to be a real lawyer."

"You're going to pass," Rey gently reminds him. It's the same conversation they've been having since the beginning of the year. "And then you're going to kick legal ass all over New York."

Ben's laugh is warm. "You should go back to work, don't worry about your paper. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. Text me what you want for dinner. I'll pick it up on my way home from my last final."

Rey hangs the phone back up on the wall and walks back out into the diner. She smiles, grabbing a rag to wipe down the front counter. Her nerves finally calm knowing that Ben wouldn't let her down and she no longer had to worry about failing one of her last classes.

Ben would just go into her draft emails and send the email on to her professor.

Into her draft emails.

Her draft emails.

Fuck.

***

Ben is not surprised when he opens Rey's email and sees that she has 37 draft emails. It's honestly exactly what he expects.

He blows across the top of his mug, watching as the steam from the cup scatters. The coffee's still too hot to drink, but it's 5:57 in the morning and Ben's only had 2 hours of sleep.

If he survives law school and passes the bar, Ben is going to need a three week long nap.

Taking a drink from the mug, Ben grimaces as the too hot liquid burns his tongue and throat, and yet at the same time warms his soul. Ben opens the draft emails, seeing the one at the top to Rey's professor. It's easy enough to look at, make sure that there's an attachment attached and that Rey's message isn't full of 2 AM Rey snark.

It's sent by 5:59.

Ben's glad that he woke up to his phone going off and that he answered. Usually, answering unknown numbers isn't something Ben does, but he's always a little more cautious when Rey is gone and it's a local number. Just in case.

Answering a spam call and wasting 5 seconds but knowing Rey is fine is worth it.

Everything about the call fell into the 'reasons to tell Rey about his feelings' column in the pro/con list he kept in his mind. Rey had his number memorized in case of emergencies.

Somehow Rey Johnson had decided that he was worthy and could be trusted to be someone she could rely on.

And for Rey, with all of the abandonment issues Ben knows about, to trust him to be there for her… it means more than Ben can say.

Falling completely in love with his best friend was not on his list of things to complete before finishing law school.

Though he thinks it might be the most worthwhile thing he's done in the three years. If he wasn't absolutely terrified of Rey not feeling the same way and ruining their friendship, Ben knows that loving her, being loved by her… that would be the honor of a lifetime.

Tilting his head back, Ben reaches for his mug and takes another drink. These are the kinds of thoughts that Ben knows he cannot dwell on so early and on such little sleep. He's going to fuck up one day and send her a text message confessing that he does actually reorganize their kitchen cabinets sometimes just because he thinks that the way she scrunches her nose when she's confused and angry is the cutest thing in the world.

Maybe he'll just text her that he loves her and not in a friend way. But in a ‘very real, very romantic, wants to take her on dates, and make her toes curl in pleasure’ kind of way.

Which is why Ben needs to go back to bed and try to sleep before studying again. His last final is tomorrow and if he isn't smart enough to list ten reasons why texting Rey about how pretty he thinks her freckles are in the sunlight, well, he has no idea how he's going to pass his trademarks and false advertising final.

Ben is just starting to close the laptop when he sees his email on one of the draft emails. He knows that he shouldn't snoop in Rey's draft emails, but it's addressed to him and it's probably just a dumb meme that she forgot to hit send on.

Because Rey sends Ben a lot of dumb memes. It's one of the things he loves about her.

Ben pushes the screen up and is stunned to find that there are a bunch of emails to him.

Before he can think his way out of doing it, Ben opens the first email.

Dear Ben:

I came home early from work and you were shirtless and exercising in the living room

First: rude.

Second: I've decided it's unfair for you to ever wear shirts and you should be shirtless all the time

Third: actually, no one else needs to know about this gross injustice and you should only not wear shirts around me

Fourth: have you always been so... big?

Fifth: I need to go to bed and think more about this.

Yours,

Rey

Ben takes a deep breath. That was not a dumb meme.

That was the furthest thing from a dumb meme.

Ben slowly releases his breath, closing out of the draft email. He should stop. He knows he should shut down Rey’s computer and that he absolutely should not open another draft email to him.

But he needs to know what else they say. For the first time in three years, there's a spark of hope inside Ben that maybe Rey feels something for him. So he looks down the list of drafts and opens one from 6 months ago on his birthday.

Ben,

It's your birthday. I know you aren't comfortable with attention being solely focused on you, but I'm so glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight.

You deserve it. You're always so hard on yourself. I wish you could see you the way I see you. How kind and caring and thoughtful you can be. It never fails to amaze me, just how wonderful you really are.

You looked gorgeous. I had to stop myself from telling you just what seeing you in that suit did to me. I almost told you how badly I want you.

I drank too much. I hate that you thought you had to leave the club to make sure that I made it back home okay, but I also… God Ben, you are always taking care of me.

No one else has done that for me.

You got me in bed, made sure I could change out of my outfit (which did you like my outfit? I thought you looked like you appreciated it when I walked out of my room, but you didn't say anything. I mean of course you didn't say anything. But I hope you did. I wore it for you.) you even brought water and aspirin for me to take tomorrow morning when I wake up.

You kissed my forehead when you tucked me in.

I just want to kiss you.

Well, I want to do more than just kiss you. But kissing seems like a good place to start.

Which is how I ended up here. Reading all of these unsent emails to you. I almost hit send on the first one I wrote. My feelings for you haven't changed.

But I'm so so scared.

I am terrified Ben.

I can't lose you. You've become the one constant in my life and I don't know what I would do without you in it.

What if you don't feel the same way? What if I ruin everything?

I should go to bed. I just wish that I were in your arms instead of alone.

I'm so tired of being alone.

Anyways.

Happy birthday, Ben.

Yours,

Rey

Ben reads the email four times before it really clicks in his brain that Rey likes him. Rey has apparently liked him for at least six months, but maybe even longer since she referred to sending her first draft email and that her feelings hadn't changed.

Her feelings. For him.

His birthday had been the best birthday he could remember. Rey had planned the entire event. She had been so excited to celebrate him that it was hard not to embrace it.

Ben's birthdays usually consisted of a phone call from his parents, maybe lunch or dinner if they were in the same city, and a few text messages from others.

Rey woke him up with pancakes and waffles, because no one should have to choose between the two best breakfast foods on their birthday, and a detailed itinerary of all her ideas for the rest of the day.

She spent the entire day with him doing whatever he wanted to do. Watching his favorite movies, ordering lunch from his favorite restaurant, confirming with everyone the dinner plans and post-dinner drink plans she had made.

Ben had almost told Rey about his feelings for her that night. After reading her email, he wishes that he had.

How much time had they missed out on being together because they were both scared?

Ben shakes his head, he still isn't sure that this all is real. Maybe Rey hadn't really called and he is still asleep. Maybe this is all a dream.

He downs the last of the coffee in his mug, running a finger across the chip on the side.

Rey had tried throwing the mug out after she moved in, saying something about how they could just use his mugs. Ben had ignored her, placing the pastel colored mugs, chips and all, next to his glossy black ones in the cabinet. He told her the blue one was his favorite and it wasn't going anywhere.

The smile she had given him lit up the entire room.

He sets the mug back down on the table, scrolling down until he finds the first draft to him. I almost hit send on the first one I wrote. The email is dated the day before she moved in.

He opens it.

Ben,

I will probably never send this email, but I also don't know that I won't. I know that I want to send it. I want to be brave and to know the truth.

The thought of doing it is just scary though.

You know that you're my best friend right? It's hard for me to imagine a world without you in it, which for me is a lot. You haven't even been in my life for a year and you've already managed to make it so that I don't know what I'll do when you decide to leave.

That's what people do, Ben, they leave me.

It's just a fact in my life and knowing that, honestly, has kept me safe. I keep people at a distance, which wasn't hard growing up because I just bounced around from foster home to foster home and school to school. But now I'm here and I'm not going anywhere new anytime soon.

And then there's you.

For some reason, I believe you're not going anywhere either.

Which is scarier to me. I've never had anyone stay before. I don't know what to do with that.

A part of me needs to believe that you're going to leave. So when you do eventually move on and leave me behind it'll at least be something I knew was going to eventually happen.

Anyways. I've gotten really sidetracked here.

I've been going to therapy. Which you already know, since you're the one who kept telling me that it was something I should look into. Thanks for that by the way. You were right.

She suggested that I write letters to the people who have left or hurt me. Not to send, but to just, get my thoughts and feelings out of my head.

It helped.

Which is why I'm writing this email to you, even though I'll never be brave enough to send it. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about you, Ben. I need them out of my head.

I love you.

I am in love with you.

Not in a platonic way. In a very romantic way.

Almost everything you do drives me crazy and makes my heart warm and my face glow.

I want to kiss you and hold your hand. I want to find out if my head will fit in the crook of your neck when you hold me the way I think that it will. I want to commit the taste of your skin to my memory. I want to know the marks on your body better than I know my own. I want to know what you look like when you lose control and give into pleasure.

It's really apparent, I think, the way I feel about you.

Only you don't seem to notice. And I need to admit to myself that it's because you don't think of me that way.

Which is fine. I get it.

You're you… and I'm just, well, I'm just me.

But I'm moving in tomorrow and I just needed to get these thoughts out. Otherwise I'm a little worried I might just blurt it out when you help me wash the dishes or eat dinner with me. Which I'm sure sounds a little strange, but after a lifetime without these moments…

I imagine living with you is only going to make me fall more in love with you.

Maybe I'll just have to write you more.

Yours,

Rey

Ben doesn't bother to count how many times he rereads the email. He just keeps going back to the top as soon as he reads her name and starts again. He doesn't stop until he is sure he could repeat every word without looking at the screen.

And then he continues to read the email again, just to make sure.

Rey loves him.

Even with the words clearly on the screen for Ben to see, it's hard for him to believe. He's been in love with Rey since before she moved in. The idea that Rey has felt the same way the entire time doesn't make sense.

Ben is objectively smart. He isn't even shy about his intelligence. In fact any given classmate of his would likely describe him as an insufferable know it all. Rey loving him without Ben catching on for over two years is inconceivable. He would have noticed. He would have seen the signs. Certainly he would--

He reads the email again. And again. And again.

Every time he tries to find a way to read anything into it beyond 'Rey has admitted in three different emails, to various degrees, that she is physically attracted to you and that she is in love with you' he rereads the emails.

He doesn't read any more beyond the three. There are plenty of drafts to him that are unread, but he grasps the threads between them to form the overall picture without needing to read the individual emails.

He feels guilty if he thinks for too long about reading the ones he did. He has information now that he didn't have before. He reasons that it is information that he should have though. Because now that he knows and he thinks to any given memory of Rey, with just a tiny bit of certainty that Rey loves him…

Well it's the easiest thing in the world to see.

When he really thinks about it, Rey doesn't hide the way she loves him, she shines with it. He can see it in the way she smiles at him when he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and tucks it around her during a movie. Her face soft and warm as she instinctively burrows into the heat.

He can see it in the way she keeps finding reasons to touch his arm when they are walking. Her hand guiding his elbow when she's giving directions. A finger tapping on his wrist when she wants him to follow her gaze. Her arm interlocked with his when she's had just a little too much to drink to still be steady in her heels.

It's certainly the way she trusts that he won't let her fall.

Ben closes the laptop, stretching as he stands. He places the empty coffee mug in the sink, rinsing out the small drops of coffee lingering in the bottom of the glass. The time on the stove clock mocks him.

7:34.

Rey isn't going to be home for hours. She'll go straight from the diner to her final. And he doesn't want to worry her by texting her. Especially when he knows she won't have a lot of time, if any, to text him back.

He isn't even sure what he would say to her.

He could study. He should study. He tries to study, but it's pointless. He can't really focus when at least half of his brain is still focused on Rey's emails.

Ben waits. Impatiently watching the clock and attempting to will time to pass faster. He reads his note cards in between planning the possible ways his conversation with Rey may go when she finally, finally gets home.

It's a long day.

***

Rey glances down at her phone for approximately the millionth time on her walk from the diner to campus. She's almost run into ten different people while walking because she's too focused on her phone and not where she is going.

There are no messages from Ben. No missed calls either.

Maybe Ben didn't see the emails. There's no way Ben would see the draft emails to him and not read them. And if he read them he absolutely would have texted her about them by now.

Right? Right.

Unless he thought that letting her down over a text message or a phone call is too impersonal. Maybe he is just waiting for her to get home to break her heart.

She should have just turned in the paper late. So what if she failed and had to retake the class over the summer and figure out a way to pay for it out of pocket? At least she would still have her best friend.

A drop of water hits Rey's face, Rey looks up from her phone and glares at the darkened sky. She doesn't remember rain being mentioned in the weather forecast, but that hardly matters as it starts raining harder.

Rey checks one more time for any messages before sliding her phone into her bag and running the rest of the way to class. She makes it inside of the building just before a large round of thunder and the rain starts to pour.

She sits at her desk, waiting for the rest of her classmates to show up. She pulls out her phone, debating if she should send Ben a message.

Hey! By now you probably read the emails. This is really embarrassing and obviously I should have deleted them instead of saving them. I'm an idiot. Please let me know when you need me to move out by. Sorry for making this so awkward.

You find two years worth of love letters and you have NOTHING to say to me??????

I assume that if you felt anything similar toward me you would have said something by now. Can we just pretend that you never saw them? I don't want this to change everything.

The professor walks in, handing off the test packets to another student to begin passing around.

There's not enough time for Rey to address any of this with Ben in a message. But she can't stomach the idea of not hearing from him at all before going home.

Rey: Hey! Getting ready to start my final, you never said what you want me to grab for dinner on my way home?

***

Rey hands in her test to her professor with a tight smile and a small wave. She's pretty sure she passed, which at this point, is all she can hope for.

She spent half of the time thinking of different scenarios that could be a possibility when she went back to the apartment. Anything near passing would be fine.

She walks out of the classroom and pulls out her phone. She has two messages from Ben.

Ben: Actually, I was thinking I would make dinner. Something to celebrate your last final.

Ben: Maybe something to distract me from studying.

Rey sighs as she walks toward the exit of the building. Maybe Ben didn't read the draft emails after all. Even if he didn't have feelings for her, surely they'd be enough to at least distract him.

Rey had poured her heart out in some of those emails. She knows there are at least a few where she went on and on about what she thought about Ben's body and the way his hair looked with him growing it out. A few where she made it clear about her thoughts about how kissable his lips looked, how she wondered what his fingers would feel like tracing her curves.

Even if he didn't have feelings for her, certainly he would be distracted by some of those emails.

Maybe she won't go home. Maybe she can avoid Ben long enough that she won't have to find out if he read the emails or not. She won't have to find out if she's ruined one of the best things in her life.

The sun is bright when Rey steps outside. The sidewalks are a darker grey, small puddles pooled around the cracks and uneven slabs.

Rey zips her jacket up, shivering slightly as the wind picks up speed.

She spends most of the walk home trying to fight against her disappointment at the thought that Ben hadn't gone through the emails to him. She had spent so much of her energy imagining Ben breaking it to her that he didn't feel the same way, but a part of her had been hoping that maybe, maybe he felt the same.

The idea that Ben just didn't read the emails was worse.

Maybe Rey should just tell him. Get her feelings out in the open and see what comes from it. There was a chance, a small chance, but still a chance that he felt the same way. Or that he could be open to the idea.

Rey: Sounds good! Need me to stop for anything? Dessert? Wine? Hard alcohol to help with the studying?

Ben doesn't respond until she's almost home.

Ben: No. The only thing missing is you.

***

Ben fidgets with the pen in his hand, twirling it in between his fingers. The pasta is done, the french bread is in the oven.

The only thing that is missing is Rey.

He glances down at his phone to check and see if Rey had responded, but there's no notification. She should be home soon and Ben still doesn't know what he's going to do when he sees her.

He knows what he wants to do. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. He wants to tell her that she's beautiful, because she is, even if she'll fight it because she always complains about how gross she feels after a shift at the diner when she has to head straight to class. She’s always beautiful though, and now he just wants to tell her that. He wants to be able to tell her that when she wakes up in the morning and she’s scrunching her face up against the harshness of the sun sneaking in, or when she is passionate about something and it lights up her entire face.

He wants to tell her that he loves her. That he has been in love with her the entire time too. He’s just not sure how.

It doesn't seem like enough to just say that he loves her. She wrote him fucking love letters. And even though Ben only read three, he knows that there are more and that they are just as lovely and somehow all about her feelings for him. She deserves more than just him saying that he feels the same way.

She deserves to know about the day he realized he was in love with her. She deserves to know about the way the slope of her neck into her shoulder drives him crazy. She deserves to know that he pretends to fall asleep during their movie nights because then she'll fall asleep and curl herself around him on the couch.

The oven beeps and Ben stands from the table, he closes his book, grabbing his note cards and pens and highlighters. He dumps the items into his bedroom, before walking back into the kitchen to pull the french bread out from the oven.

Ben's sliding the bread onto a cutting board, knife in his hand, when the door opens and Rey walks in.

Ben struggles to remember how to breathe as he stares at her. She looks beautiful. But she's nervous, her fingers are playing with the sleeve of her jacket, pulling and twisting at the loose fabric. She shuts the door, taking a step into the kitchen.

She's staring at Ben and he can see it now. She loves him and he can see it. How had he never noticed it before?

Maybe he really was an idiot.

He had spent all day fighting his own nerves, trying to come up with the perfect plan on how to tell Rey that he never thought about what she must have spent the entire day doing.

Obviously, she knew that she sent him into her draft emails and that there was a chance that he would see the emails.

Did she know that he read them? Is that why she is looking at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open, as if she is almost about to say something, but she doesn't.

Of course she's worried that he doesn't feel the same way. Why else would she keep writing him draft emails while not saying anything or giving him any real signs about her feelings?

He sets the knife down next to the bread and takes a step toward her.

"Dinner smells good," she says, a little breathless.

Ben doesn't say anything in response, he just takes another step, closing the distance between him. Rey glances up at him, her body tense as she takes a small step back.

Ben reaches out for her, his hand settling against her lower back, gently urging her to come closer to him.

"Ben," she breathes, stepping forward, her hand hovering over his bicep for a second before she commits and rests her hand against the sleeve of his shirt.

"It was the first night you stayed over," Ben says, brushing a stray piece of Rey's hair behind her ear. "It was… two, maybe three months before you moved in. You came over to study. We had dinner first and then you demanded that we watch a movie before we started studying. Something about how our brains needed a break and we'd be better off waiting for a few hours to get started on our all nighter."

Ben smiles, mostly for himself, remembering how cute she had been arguing with him.

"We didn't study," Ben continues, running a finger down her cheek. "You fell asleep twenty minutes into the movie. You looked so peaceful and beautiful and I just… all I could think was about how all I wanted in life was to share it with you. Because I was in love with you."

Rey's expression is soft and a little bewildered as he continues. She turns her head slightly, her lips quickly pressing against his thumb.

"I've been in love with you this entire time. I'm sorry I was too scared to tell you. I was nervous… I am nervous that I'm going to ruin this. I love you and I know, Rey, I know that nothing is ever going to change that. I'm going to love you forever. I can feel it in my bones. Be with me? I know it's scary--"

Rey pulls at Ben's shirt until he bends down and she cuts off his sentence by kissing him. Ben sighs against her lips, his eyes closing as he places her free hand on her hips. She deepens the kiss, her tongue running across his, her fingers burying themselves in his hair.

The way Rey feels pressed against him, the pressure of her mouth on his, it's better than he could have imagined.

It's over too soon, Rey breaks the kiss, a large smile spreading across her face. Ben's grin is just as large and toothy. He stares at her for a second, trying to memorize the way she looks in that moment to his brain. Then he pulls her into his chest and kisses her hair.

"I love you too," Rey says after a moment. "And I agree that it is scary. But I want to be with you. It's worth it."

***

Ben's kisses are something Rey could get addicted to. He kisses with his whole body, the way he angles in his legs to brush against hers, the pressure of his thumb pressing into her hip, his fingernails lightly scratching down her spine. And his lips.

God his lips.

She had been right about his lips. They were absolutely made for kissing.

He left kisses all over her face, her cheek, her jaw, just above her eyebrow. Rey tugged at the bottom of his shirt with one hand, the other quickly moving to run along the exposed skin of his stomach.

He is so warm and solid underneath her hand.

Ben pulls away just long enough to pull his shirt off. Rey spends a few seconds taking in the sight of him shirtless, his eyes darker than she has ever seen them as he watches her watch him.

"You're so gorgeous," she says because she can. Then she moves to pull her own shirt off.

The black bra, which was mostly see through mesh, that she had picked out that morning appears to have been a good choice, judging by the way Ben swallows at the sight, his eyes slowly moving down her body.

He places one hand over her right breast, gently squeezing before taking her nipple and rolling it in between his fingers.

Rey moans, pushing herself forward into his hand, desperate for more friction. he repeats the actions on her left breast and Rey can't control the needy sounds falling from her lips.

Ben pulls away then, dropping his hands to her waist as he takes a step back to put distance between them.

Rey whines, instinctively following after him.

"The food is going to be cold if we don't stop," he explains, nodding at the pasta that's on the counter.

Rey shakes her head, lifting up on her toes to kiss him again.

"Ben," she says, her fingers digging into his shoulder as she tries to find her balance. "I don't give a fuck about the food."

***

Ben groans at Rey's words, helpless to pull away when she's saying things like that and smiling against his lips.

He kisses her, while moving them until her back is pressed against the wall. His fingers making quick work of the button on her jeans.

This is going too fast. He knows that he should stop, that they should eat and he should ask her to go on an actual date, or to be his girlfriend, or fuck, his wife, whatever she wants.

But he can't stop kissing her. And judging by the way she's trying to undo his belt, she doesn't want to stop either. It's hard to argue against the side of his brain begging him to give into the pleasure and to take her into his room when she's pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to run her fingers down his cock.

"Rey, look at me," he begs, his hand grips the corner of the wall as he fails to stop his hips from pushing forward. The way Rey's hands feel wrapped around him, moving at a slow and steady pace as she raises her eyes to his face. Her hand picks up speed, and her eyes slightly narrow in concentration, like she's trying to decipher every twitch of his face so she can make him do it again is too much.

"Yeah, Ben?" Rey says as an answer, her eyes not leaving his. She looks like the picture of innocence as she holds his gaze, her eyes full of love, her cheeks slightly pink, and her lips turned up in a smile.

It's difficult to believe that she can keep that expression on her face while giving him the best hand job of his life.

"We should, uh, we should talk," he manages to get out, his grip on the wall tightening. "About all of this and what it means. I don't want… we don't have to rush into anything. We have time."

Rey's hand stops moving and if Ben was capable of holding on to more than a few of his brain cells he would have been embarrassed at the way he kept moving his hips long after she stopped.

She holds his chin in her other hand, tilting his head down so she can look directly into his eyes before she leans up. The kiss is chaste and short, it leaves Ben wanting more.

"I don't want to talk," she says, moving her hand down his length again. "I don't want to wait either Ben," he shudders at the combination of her words and the way she twists her hand around the head of his penis. "I just want you."

***

Ben doesn't say anything, he tilts his head and looks at Rey like he's trying to decide what he did to deserve her and what he wants to do next. He's all action once he's made up his mind.

He places his hand on top of Rey's, and Rey pumps him faster, feeling emboldened by the feel of Ben's hands on hers. He moves her hand away off of him, pinning it above her head and against the wall.

"Ben," Rey sighs, half heartedly fighting against his hold, "I wasn't done--"

Rey stops talking while she watches Ben push down his pants to the floor. He picks her up and Rey wraps her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist.

Heat pools in her stomach when he starts to walk them towards his room. His mouth is on her again. Ben's room is only about 30 steps away from the kitchen, but it seems to take forever before Ben finally makes it to his door.

Ben holds her against the door, carefully shifting her in his arms so that he can move one hand from her to open the door. Rey uses that as an opportunity to suck at the skin just below his jaw. The arm wrapped around her tightens and Rey can hear Ben's sharp intake of breath once she's moved her lips away.

So she does it again to the skin below his ear, just to see if she gets the same reaction from him.

Ben carefully sets her down on his bed. He settles his knees on either side of her and bends down to kiss her. His mouth is hot and desperate against hers as he unclasps her bra. Rey leans back on the bed and helps him slide the straps down her arms.

Rey lifts her hips up so Ben can remove her underwear and jeans. She runs her fingers along the edge of his hip bone.

"You're beautiful," Ben says, his voice lower than Rey has heard it before. He drags his thumb along the curve of her breast and across her nipple. "You're so beautiful Rey--" his fingers trail down along her waist and stomach until he barely grazes her clit with the pad of his finger.

But it's enough to send small tendrils of pleasure throughout her body. He moves lower, running a finger through the wetness at her opening. She nods at the questioning look he gives her.

He pushes a finger inside of her, curling it up as he sets a slow, leisurely pace with his movements. Rey moans, trying to urge him on to go faster.

"Ben, please," Rey begs, though she isn't quite sure what she's asking him to do. "I need more."

Ben drops to his knees, hooking Rey's legs over his shoulder. He adds another finger, picking up speed while he places wet kisses on her thighs and hip bone. His nose brushes against her clit when he moves his head to pay attention to the other side of her body.

Rey whines, lifting her hips to try to find something to give her friction where she needs it most. Ben grins into her thigh.

"You're a tease," Rey huffs. "An absolute damn tease and I need--"

"I know what you need," Ben whispers, his breath hot on her center and then he finally, finally lowers his mouth to her clit.

Rey's brain ceases to function when he sucks and pleasure washes over her body. She lifts her hips up and she's only slightly annoyed when Ben's hand pushes her back down to the bed.

Ben works her up easily. He isn't shy about trying different things, and the way he manages to work his tongue with his fingers and his mouth is magic.

Rey threads her fingers in his hair, she tugs on the strands as he brings her closer and closer to the edge.

"Ben," Rey whimpers, her back arching. She's fairly confident the grip she has on his hair is actually painful, but she can't bring herself to let go and Ben doesn't seem to mind. At least, it isn't stopping him from devouring her.

She doesn't want to come yet. She wants to stay in this moment forever. She needs it to last longer so she can commit the way her nerves are buzzing with pleasure and her heart is swelling with love and comfort to her memory.

Ben sucks harder. The hand on her stomach moves up and he is pinching her nipple and she comes.

He works her through her orgasm. His mouth and tongue slowing their movements against her clit until she swats at his head.

"Too sensitive," she mutters, her eyes still closed. He laughs against her skin, resting his chin just above her pubic bone.

Rey leans up, pressing her elbows into the mattress. "Hi," she says, grinning down at him.

"Hi." Ben sounds a little breathless, but he matches her smile and presses a kiss against her skin.

His hair is a mess and Rey's stomach swoops with the knowledge that she did that. She's the reason this gorgeous man was out of breath and his usually perfectly tousled hair was all out of place.

He moves up her body, running his tongue along her exposed skin until his head is hovering just over her own.

"I love you," he says. And if it were possible Rey knows that he would be able to see her heart beat out of her chest.

His face is so open and honest it surprises Rey. Because she knows that he said he loved her earlier, but there's still a part of her that isn't sure that he can mean it.

But then he looks at her with such adoration in his eyes and she's not sure how she could doubt him.

"I love you too," she says, beaming up at him as he closes the distance between them.

She can taste herself on his lips, but she isn't complaining as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"Condom?" she asks, breaking the kiss before placing smaller kisses along his jaw.

He nods, moving off of her and moving to the other edge of the bed. He opens the top drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Rey just watches as he tears open the wrapper, pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it down his length.

"Come here," he says and Rey rolls over and makes her way to Ben. She settles herself over him, resting her hands on his shoulders and sinks down on him.

Ben let's her set the pace, but he meets her thrust for thrust and it makes Rey clench against him. He feels so good inside of her, and then he uses his hands, dragging them down on her spine, across her chest, down her stomach until he reaches her clit and he presses down and Rey starts to see stars. Her movements above him stutter and she knows she isn't going to last long if he keeps that up.

"That's it," he says, "Are you going to come for me?" He puts more pressure on his finger, drawing small circles on her clit.

Rey sighs his name, squeezing her nails into his shoulder. He's taken over, controlling the speed of her thrusts as she just let's him, too lost in the pleasure pulsing through her veins.

"Ben," she groans when his mouth wraps around her nipple, his teeth sharp against her skin.

She comes when he bites down, her vision blurring. He keeps fucking into her chasing his own orgasm.

He comes silently, his breath hot on her neck. Rey catches her breath, enjoying the way Ben can't keep his hands still. He runs his hands over her collarbone, a finger trailing across her jawline, another down her spine.

She rolls off of him once she feels like she can take a full breath without immediately trying to suck in another. He moves around, removing the condom and tossing it into a trash can near his bed.

Rey is glad to discover that her head does fit into the crook of his neck just like she imagined. She tastes the salt on his skin when she leaves an opened mouth kiss to his shoulder. She wraps her arm around his chest and curls herself around him.

"So, you read the emails then?" Rey asks with a small laugh.

Ben kisses her head. "I read three of them, yeah."

"Just three?"

Ben sighs, his fingers continuing to run across her body as if he can't get enough of her skin. "I felt bad. Reading through emails you didn't send me, it felt like I was invading your privacy."

"I'm glad you did," Rey admits, pulling him closer to her. "Otherwise we might not be here."

Ben hums, his chest vibrating underneath her hand. "You have a point."

"Which ones did you read?"

"Um," Ben hesitates. Rey can feel his heartbeat pick up pace. "A recent one about me working out? And then the one on my birthday and the first one."

"Those were good ones," Rey laughs. "You could have read the other ones."

"You could send them to me." Ben drags his fingers through her hair. "I don't want you to hide from me anymore."

"Maybe I will," Rey teases. "Now that I know you might feel the same way about me."

"I do feel the same way," Ben amends her words. "I'm crazy about you. I've been crazy about you."

"But will you be tomorrow?" Rey asks, hating how needy her voice sounds to her own ears. "And the next day?"

"Always," Ben answers. There's no hesitancy to his answer.

"Always is a long time," Reys says, kissing his neck. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I never do," Ben promises. "I'm always going to love you."

"Me too," Rey says, her voice heavy with sleep. "I'm always going to love you."

"Maybe tomorrow we can read the rest of them together?" Ben asks.

"Yeah," Rey smiles. "We can do that."

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #reylo au #my fic

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Like Rabbits - Chapter 1

Like Rabbits: A Black Widow/WinterHawk Fanfic

Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/F!Reader for this Chapter, series is also a WinterHawk Series

Rating: E Square: @ladiesofmarvelbingo - M5 Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Word Count: 1596

Warnings: a little angsty a little fluffy, sex talk. Pregnancy and smut for the series.

Synopsis: While you and Natasha are contemplating starting a family together, Bucky and Clint are doing the exact same thing. So two couples go take the same path to parenthood together.

A/N: This series will have chapters focused on either Natasha and Reader or Clint and Bucky. This is a Natasha/Reader chapter. I don’t like using y/n, so the rare time's that people refer to reader they use pet names that have to do with rabbits. Not sure who this series will appeal to, except me, so here we go.

Chapter One

When you had met Natasha Romanoff there were a lot of things you hadn’t expected. You hadn’t expected that you’d become really close friends. Yet that had happened really quickly and surprisingly naturally. Natasha stays closed off to new people right up until a point where she decided you were her person and now she was going to adopt you and protect you like some tiny yet ferocious mama bear.

You also hadn’t expected that random hook-up you had in the armory. It had been one of those ‘tensions were high’ situations and arguing about keeping safe had turned into kissing, which had turned into hot passionate sex, pressed up against the wall, while the weapons rattled on their racks around you.

You hadn’t expected that hook-up turning into some kind of casual friends-with-benefits situation. It took a month or so from the first time before Natasha and you slept with each other again. The second time it was almost more out of boredom while you were hanging out together one day. Then a week later she asked if you wanted to do it again. Then a week after that you went to her. And then, and then, and then. Eventually, it was a couple of times a week and you were experimenting with all kinds of things. Wax and blindfolds. Toys and bondage. Natasha had quite the collection of devices for which to cause pleasure and pain and together the two of you had tried every single one of them.

You definitely hadn’t expected feelings to get involved. Hers more than yours. You hadn’t expected her to start taking you out for breakfast when you’d spent the night over. Nor had you expected the dinners or movies, or going to the park and sitting under a tree while she played with your hair. Or how the rest of the team began to refer to each of you as the other’s girlfriend. Nor when she started calling you her girlfriend too.

You hadn’t expected the ‘I love you’. And nor had she given the way she covered her mouth and looked at you wide-eyed when it had slipped out. Though, if you were honest, the ease at which you had returned it, had not surprised you one little bit. But that point you had fallen deep down the rabbit hole. You were totally and completely in love with Natasha Romanoff.

You hadn't expected the talk to turn to moving-in together. Nor how after you had agreed that living together was nice that the talk to turn to having kids.

Kids were on Natasha’s mind a lot. The Red Room had rendered her infertile, yet the mama bear of the Avengers really did want that, as much as she was loathed to admit it. She knew she could get by without but she wanted them and it made her angry and guilty and upset that the choice had been taken away.

To begin with, the talk had been a warning. This is a thing that can’t happen. If you are with me, we will never have children. That has been taken from me. Besides… look at what we do. Kids don’t fit that.

It became a thing she lamented. A desire that couldn’t be fulfilled. Something that she wished could happen but obviously never could, but maybe if things were different the two of you could be that typical couple with your two kids and your dog and your cat, pushing your stroller through the park and stopping to get ice cream.

Then it became a what if? A list of ways it might actually be possible for the two of you now. Adoption or just randomly collecting some stray teenagers the way the Avengers did some time. Or maybe a surrogate. Or you could have the baby. You go to one of those sperm banks.

“What about James or Clint?” Natasha asked.

You hadn’t expected the question. It had come out of nowhere with no context and really could have referred to anything. The dumbass duo as Natasha lovingly referred to them, or sometimes her two imbecile exes, had been dating for a little longer than you had Natasha had been. And given how close they were to her, the four of you spent a lot of time together. So ‘what about James or Clint?’ could refer to anything from ‘do you think one of them ended up in hospital today?’ to ‘maybe we should call them to come to hang out.’

“What about them?” You asked.

“Maybe we could ask them to knock you up?” Natasha suggested.

You snorted. Of all the things you had been expecting to hear, the suggestion that one of Natasha’s ex-boyfriends get you pregnant was not what you had expected. “What?”

“I mean… be donors.” Natasha said. “I did date them both. They’re my best friends so they might help us because of that. And they’re good guys… I don’t think they’d be all like ‘having a baby with an ex, that’s bad news’ or anything.. And they have some good genes. They’re both really smart. Clumsy as fuck, sure. But fit and agile. Funny. Plus, because they’re in our lives, they’ll be in their life. And they’ll be good for them.” The more she spoke the more excited she got. This was her answer. The way she got to have everything she never let herself want. She had the extended family she’d grown up wanting. She had a loving partner that she never expected to get. Now she wanted the baby to raise in the way she wished she could have.

“Them you mean, the hypothetical baby?” You asked.

She lay down with her head in your lap and nuzzled at your stomach. “Yes. I mean… do you want this? I know … I know I have been selfish when I fantasize about this. I know it was always me bringing it up. That if we have a biological kid it’s going to be yours and you will need to do the carrying.”

“Tash, honey. Calm down.” You said, leaning down and rubbing your nose against hers.

“Sorry, zaika,” Natasha said and let out a breath. She cupped your jaw and pulled you into a kiss. You hummed softly into her lips and leaned into her hand. When she pulled back she looked down into your eyes, the green of her’s soft and full of hope “Let’s start from the beginning. Do you want kids? Would you like to be a mother?”

“Natasha, being with you, has felt a little like a ride I’ve been on. It’s been exciting and unexpected and every time I think it’s about to end, it just curves left and keeps going. I’ve loved every minute of it. But I never expected it to get to this point where we’d seriously be discussing this.” You explained. As you spoke Natasha’s face fell like she could see all these things that she had finally hoped for thanks to you, being taken away from her. “The truth is, I do want them. I had always seen myself as a mother. Just like you are just this natural mama bear. But I met you and you said it couldn’t happen. And… I fell for you so hard that it didn’t matter. You … Us… we were more important to me than the idea of some hypothetical child that may never have existed anyway. And you’ve been bringing it back but in this ‘maybe one day when we’re settled’ way. It still felt like a dream. Do you want this now? Because so much will have to change if we do. We can’t stay at the compound. Not with kids. We’d need to put up Avenging rules. Not both of us a the same time on a mission.”

Natasha sat up and looked at you directly in the eyes. “Zaika, I would retire,” she said, seriously. “I would give up Avenging if it meant I could be a mother.”

You leaned her forehead against hers. “And you really want to ask dumb and dumber?”

She snorted. “Hey, I can call them that! You can’t!” She said and started tickling your sides.

You squealed and kicked your legs, falling on the couch and pulling her down on top of you. “Tasha! Stop! Stop it!”

She let her hands settle and ran one up to the back of your neck. “Yes. I mean, I’d do anything really. I don’t know if they’ll let us adopt though. Not with what we do or who I am. But there’s nothing stopping us from asking our friends for a sample.” She stroked her thumb down the line of your jugular. “We could maybe talk them into giving it to us the fun way.”

“Natasha!” You giggled, though to be fair you did like the sound of it. Like Natasha said, they were good looking and athletic. It could be fun.

“Oh, like you’ve never thought about it.” She teased. “Plus it would only be fair. You’re the only one that hasn’t slept with all the others.”

You broke down into hysterical laughter and pulled her into a tight hug. “God, I love you so much, Tasha.”

She nuzzled into your neck. “I love you too, Zaika.” She hummed. “Are we really doing this? Are we going to have a baby?”

“Yeah, Natasha. But… don’t get your hopes too high. They might say ‘no’.” You warned.

“Mmm… I know,” she said pulling back and looking into your eyes. “But, they might say ‘yes’.”

// NEXT

#ladiesofmarvelbingo19 #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #winterhawk #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #like rabbits #femslash #femslash saturday

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joon-bugs · 5 years

Text

Dare

~This is a fic that’s been in the making for about two months and I finally got it finished!~

“Want to continue the game?” You dug your nail into your palm. Jungkook was gonna get a talking to later. Maybe you should have told Hoseok to leave. That you were tired and had to work the next day. It would have been the smart thing. The safe thing. But a low buzz had already settled in your chest, warming your skin.

word count: 4,290

pairing: Hobi/Reader

genre: smut

warnings: swearing, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, face riding, intoxication

“You're up next birthday boy.”

“No way. I swear you skipped your turn Y/N. I'm not that drunk.” You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Jung Hoseok to call you out on your bullshit.

“Damn, I thought I had boozed you up enough.” You took a swig of your half empty beer bottle and scowled. You hated beer. But it was cheap, and you were poor. Hoseok cleared his throat and raised a brow.

“Alright, alright. Fine. I choose..truth.”

“Ugh, lameee. You’re no fun.” Jungkook piped up from the couch. He swung his leg in your direction, attempting to hit you.

“Hey watch it you little shit! Or I’m calling Namjoon and outing your ass.” Jungkook sputtered, almost choking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You wanna try me?” You held his glare until he sighed, waving his hand dismissively.

“Alright Miss Truth.” He looked thoughtful.

“Done any butt stuff?” You nearly threw your bottle at him.

“Well? You have to answer the question Y/N. It's the gameee.” You opened your mouth to abuse the brat when Hoseok chimed in.

“Yeah Y/N. It's the game.” You turned to look at him and blushed at the playful smirk on his face. Damn him for being so attractive.

You took an absurdly long drink before answering. Jungkook sat up, leaning until he was on the edge of the couch. Oh you were going to get him back for this.

“Yeah. I've done some..butt stuff.” Jungkook fell to the floor laughing, and rolled around until he could catch his breath to wheeze out-

“Oh my god really? I honestly thought you were gonna say no. Holy shit.” He was crying now, wiping the obnoxious tears from his face. You didn't find it that funny.

“How did it feel?” Jungkook had managed to calm himself down and was pulling himself back onto the couch.

“Well if you must know it felt fucking awful. There wasn't enough lube but he insisted we go for it. I was stupid enough to let him convince me. Never again. End of story.” You finished off the rest of your beer and reached over to grab another one from the side table. You noticed it had grown silent and looked up to see Hoseok and Jungkook staring at you.

“What?” Your skin prickled nervously at the quiet.

“Wow. What a dick. He’s supposed to make you feel good too.”

“You offering Kook? Sounds like you know the area.” You spat out, still a little upset. He scoffed.

“No offense Y/N but that's disgusting and..you're not my type. Maybe Hobi would be so kind. He's got lots of experience from what I've heard.” He nudged the man in question with his elbow, wagging his eyebrows. Your eyes went wide. Hoseok was still for a second then propped his chin on his hand and stuck the tip of his tongue out.

“Well if you want to see how things are done right Y/N, give me a call.”

You squeezed the neck of the new bottle and coughed, disguising your embarrassment. Maybe you'd all had too much to drink.

“Isn't it your turn Jung Hoseok?”

He chuckled, leaning back to rest on his elbows and jutted his chin up, a signal that he was ready.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Wow. That was quick.

“See? Hobi knows how to have a good time.” Jungkook threw his hands up, flopping onto the cushions with a thud.

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking over your options. You held a lot of power in that moment and needed to use it wisely.

“I dare you to chug that whole thing.” You gestured to the drink he had barely touched, deciding to play it safe. Steer the conversation away from anything remotely sexual. Alcohol mixed with hormones was like playing with fire. Sure it was hot, but someone was always bound to get burned.

He glanced down at his hand, then back at you. Then a wide grin appeared on his face and his throat was suddenly blessing your vision. Oh shit. So much for it not being sexual. His head was tilted back all the way, the long curve of his neck golden and shining. Was he sweating or was it just your imagination? His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped and when he was done he wiped the remainder with the back of his hand. A droplet escaped his mouth, glistening as it trailed down his throat. You swallowed, not realizing you were staring until Jungkook reminded the room of his existence.

“Woo! My man!” He clapped Hoseok on the shoulder excitedly, shaking him enthusiastically. Hoseok gave a toothy grin in response, his eyes on you. When had it gotten so hot? Jungkook’s turn went by in the blur, and then it was yours again.

“Alright Y/N. If you don’t choose dare this time I’ll make sure to pick a really embarrassing question.” Jungkook seemed giddy at the idea. Was the last one not embarrassing enough? You really needed to find other people to hang out with. You swiped your sticky palms down your jeans. I’m gonna get you back for this kid.

“Ughh. Dare then.” It couldn’t be that bad. Could it? Jungkook kicked his lips, a wicked glint in his eye. Maybe there was no god. Your muscles tightened, preparing to bolt.

‘Just take it off now girllll, just take it off. Uh. I'm a master baby with your bra.’

The familiar chime of his ring tone had you flinching, your heartbeat thumping loudly in your ears. Jungkook glanced down at his cell and recoiled, jumping up.

“Ahhh shit shit. Its my brother. Oh man.” He paced around the room, taking in deep breaths. Your covered your mouth, holding in your laughter.

“Hey Namjoon. Where am I? Uhh I went out. To the store. For snacks.” He cringed at his own lie and you smiled at his turmoil. You heard the yelling at the other end of the line and saw Jungkook swallow. He was already pulling on his jacket, and glancing at the door. He looked back at you and Hoseok, embarrassment clear on his face. You blew a chaste kiss at him and waved him away, reminding yourself to tease the younger at a later time. No sooner had you done this was the boy gone, whirling out the door with the quickness of a trained athlete. With him he took the light joking atmosphere and you felt immediately uncomfortable.

It wasn’t as if Hoseok was a bad guy. He was originally Jungkook’s friend, the two meeting through their love of dancing. (That and chasing tail.) Being close to Jungkook you were soon introduced to the man in question and had fallen down the dark rabbit hole of attraction. If it was a small interest, you could have easily brushed off how his eyes would linger longer than necessary, or how he would make himself seen when you were around. No, you were hopelessly crushing on Jung Hoseok and couldn’t stop how tense your body got when it was just the two of you. You crossed your legs and examined the chipped polish on your fingers, trying to avoid any eye contact with the man across from you.

“Hey.” You paused, whipping your head up at his voice. He mimicked your pose, his knees peeking out of the strategically ripped holes of his jeans. Why did his freaking knees have to look good too? You coughed, the dryness of your throat blocking your airway.

“Yeah?” You tried not to make the word a squeak.

“Truth or dare?” Hoseok looked thoughtful, tilting his head.

“Dare.” Maybe it was the alcohol making you brave. Or it could have been the roar of blood pounding in your ears.

“I dare you to take off your shirt.” You weren’t sure if you had really said it out loud, but by the look on Hoseok’s face..you had.

“Huh.” He clucked his tongue, keeping his eyes on yours. This was so stupid. And inappropriate. Now he was gonna think you were a pervert. Great. You shook your head, holding the weighted alcohol bottle in a tight grip.

“Sorry, you don’t have to do that.. I think I’m just a little dru-“ In a flash Hoseok had lifted his arms, his shirt finding its new residence on the floor. Holy moly. You weren’t expecting that. Your face burned at the newly exposed flesh and you pretended to scratch at your eyebrow as an excuse to look away.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was lower than you remembered it to be before. You chuckled awkwardly and cleared your throat again, not knowing how to respond.

“My turn now, right?” He filled the silence after a moment and ran his hand through the curtain of hair that framed his face. You followed his movements like a hawk, marveling at how soft his locks looked. How would it feel under your own fingertips? You wondered. You nodded silently, giving him the go ahead. Your heart was loud in your chest, drumming a steady beat in your ears.

“Truth..or dare?” You knew you were walking into dangerous territory now.

“Um..dare?”

“Kiss me.” You blinked owlishly. This was not happening. You had to be dreaming.

“Excuse me?” His face remained impassive. Unchanged.

“Kiss me.” You considered throwing yourself out of the window. But honestly..would kissing your crush be the worst thing in the world? Your eyes gravitated to the deep cupid’s bow of his lips. No. No it wouldn't.

You got onto all fours, making a decision before you could think better of it. You slowly crawled over to where Hoseok sat, trying to avoid staring at his chest for too long. It wouldn’t make what you were doing any easier. His eyes were lidded when you approached, almost closed. And you could hear how measured his breathing was up close. His eyelashes were long, framing his feminine shaped eyes and high cheekbones. For someone so hot he was...pretty.

The lit lamps in the room cast soft shadows on his skin, painting him in tones of muted gold and chocolate browns. It felt really intimate like this, in the silence and closeness of your apartment. Like lovers stealing away into the night. But you knew that you weren’t lovers. You were two almost strangers only brought together by the coincidence of Jungkook. You clenched your jaw and stopped in front of him. This was just a game. Silly. Something to be laughed at later. It was wishful thinking to believe it was anything else. Feeling your body sink into the carpet you sighed quietly, before pushing your upper half forward.

His mouth was pliant, coming alive at your small pressure. They were smooth, sliding over yours as butter would on toast. You hummed, relishing in the pleasant feeling. The lips pressed to yours were surprisingly hesitant in reciprocating however, and you pulled away as that twinge of doubt resurfaced.

Hoseok’s hand shot out to grab your arm, startling you.

“Kiss me again.” He breathed, his exhale puffing onto your face. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him. Cheap beer mostly, but there was something else there too. Something dark and forbidden.You gripped a patch of carpet, uncaring of how damaged it would become.

“Unless you’re scared.” You floundered, your mouth opening and closing. Hoseok’s fingertips rubbed the crease in your elbow and you let out a shudder, your nerves trembling. Hoseok too was soon on his knees, moving to mimic your position. You were going to remark how it was your turn to ask him but found your body moving by itself.

You placed your hands on his bare shoulder, hoping he wouldn't notice how they were shaking. His fingers traced up your sleeve until they came to rest on the underside of your jaw. You came close to his ear, close enough to touch. You wet your lips.

“Truth or dare Hoseok?” It was a whisper.

“I choose you.”

He tugged you forward, pressing his lips into yours insistently. Your chest came flush with his as he fell back on his knees and you tried not to topple into him. He laughed lightly, adjusting himself until his arms were secure around your waist. You sighed into his mouth, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. They were as soft as you expected. Hoseok groaned, pulling you down onto his lap so that you were now straddling him. This position brought your crotches level to each other and he took full advantage of this by digging his nails into your hips and grinding his pelvis into yours. Your legs tightened on the side of his and you whimpered, biting his lip to stifle the noise.

“Oh Y/N..I’ve waited so long for this.”

Hoseok’s hand came up to rest on the curve of your back, angling you until his mouth could be latched on your chest. You squeaked at the unexpected wet tongue and gripped his shoulder blades, trying not to completely dig your nails into his skin. Your thin sports bra was no match for the persistence of Hoseok’s tongue and soon the material was soaked from his attentions.

“If your goal is to make this bra completely unwearable then I’d say you were successful.” You laughed breathlessly. He paused to give you a simmering look.

“Glad you finally caught on.” He grinned. Oh. Said bra was off of you quicker than you could comprehend along with your top, with Hoseok clinging to your now bare skin. You bowed your back when he started to suckle a nipple, the vibrations of his humming sending jolts of pleasure to your lower region. The hair along your body prickled, alive at the erotic sensation. You pressed yourself down on his jeans, unable to help that you were basically dry humping him like a cat in heat. The noises you made were sharp and jerky, reflecting your desperation.

“Oh god-Hoseok. Please I-.” He nipped at your collarbone.

“Careful. You’ll make me come in my pants.” You stopped abruptly and gave an apologetic look.

“Sorry.” You muttered, panting.

“Here. I have an idea that will help you unwind. Lay back.” You raised an eyebrow at him. He gave a small smile in return.

“Trust me. It will be better for both of us.” He tilted you back slowly, until you were on the carpet, your legs still wrapped around him. What the hell is he doing? You tried to keep the thought from reflecting on your face.

“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You swallowed back a twinge of fear, choosing to grip the soft flooring to contain your shaking. Hoseok pressed light kisses down your body until he reached your bottoms. He looked up at you for permission and it was then you finally understand his intentions. You jolted upright and pushed at his shoulders in a panic.

“No no. You um, don’t have to do that.” The sentence fumbled out, your cheeks flaming. Hoseok let out a full bellied laugh then and you just wanted to recede into a hole.

“You really are something Y/N. You’re the first girl I’ve ever met to say they didn’t want to get eaten out. That’s cute.” He shook his head, eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Don’t laugh at me you ass! It’s just-just that no one has ever done that for me before.” You slipped out from under him and curled into a ball, tucking your head into your knees. After a moment you heard Hoseok curse under his breath before you felt a touch on your shoulder. You lifted your head up hesitantly.

"Y/N. Hey. I'm sorry. Really. I was just surprised is all. It’s okay if you don’t have experience with it.” He looked sympathetic and thoughtful.

“Here, maybe this will be easier for you.” He said after a pause. You glanced over at him warily, only to see him lay flat on his back.

“Um..what are you doing?”

“Come here.” He beckoned, waving you to his side with a curl of his fingers. You sighed, rubbing at your eyes and obeyed him before you could think better of it.

“Okay, now what?”

Hoseok splayed a hand on your thigh, rubbing the cloth material.

“First you gotta get these off.” He smiled, not moving to do so himself, but letting you make the choice. If I do this I’ll be almost completely naked. Your nerves were starting to get the better of you again. You covered your chest self consciously. Hoseok’s face took on a serious expression.

“Y/N. We don’t have to do this. As much as I would nothing more than to have you screaming my name, I’m not gonna force you into anything.” The sincerity in his voice made you feel like an ass for thinking badly of him and you nodded your head before slowly slipping off your pants. You glanced at him to see his attention fully on you. With shaky hands you made to remove your simple panties when Hoseok protested.

“Leave those on actually. Just put your legs on either side of my head.”

“Umm what the hell?” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

Hoseok rolled his eyes before pulling you on his chest. The skin to skin contact made you gasp and you braced yourself on his pecs, feeling lightheaded. Hoseok's large hands roamed up the back of your thighs, urging them into position around his head, his eyes black and shining. This was beyond strange to you. It seemed..rude to have your vagina so close to someone’s face.

“Relax baby.” Your muscles clenched at the nickname. You felt the probing of a finger around your pantyline and could feel the sharp inhale of air from the man underneath you.

“Mmm you have no idea how good you smell Y/N. I’ll have to thank Jungkook later for inviting me.” At the mention of the kid you scoffed but the noise turned into a shuddering gasp when Hoseok moved your underwear to the side and flattened his tongue to swipe along your folds. You nearly fell over but caught yourself by grabbing onto Hoseok’s hair. He repeated the action, eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Not so bad is it?” He asked when he came up for air. You quickly shook your head, not able to form a response. You pushed your pelvis down on his tongue, riding the wet digit as his fingers dug into the meat of your behind.

"Oh Hoseok...oh god."

He hummed, holding you closer to his face, not letting up until your legs began to shake. Your body was pulsing, alive and burning. You rotated your hips, letting out a squeal when Hoseok gave attention to your clit. You yanked hard on his scalp until he gave a short shout.

"Sorry, sorry. I got carried away." He let out a breathless laugh, massaging the outside of your thighs.

"Its okay Y/N. I don't mind a little pain." He winked, before flicking his tongue out, resuming his attentions. You rocked against him, moaning in high pitched whines, feeling a familiar stirring below until you could take no more.

"Oh ah-ah! I think I'm gonna-"

"Come all over my face Y/N." His voice was husky, the demand giving you the push you needed to tumble over the edge. You screwed your eyes shut, mouth open soundlessly as your hips chased the electric tingling coursing through you. You felt your release slick down your thighs, and shuddered violently as Hoseok lapped it up reverently.

Soon his touch became too much however, and you weakly rolled off of him, your body jelly on the floor. Your chest heaved and you briefly wondered how you had never done anything like this before. You felt in a way, cheated.

A shadow passed over your face then and you glanced up to see a grinning Hoseok, his chin glistening. Mother of God. He ran his tongue over his mouth, collecting the remaining juices, before placing a light peck to your lips.

"You still alive?" He laughed at your disheveled state.

"Just get down here and kiss me again." You grabbed him by his shoulder, satisfied when he was tightly pressed against you. You were both panting, pawing at every inch of skin until Hoseok pulled away to fumble with the button of his jeans. He seemed to struggle with the material, from nerves or drunkenness you couldn't tell. He cursed under his breath after a third attempt, frustration evident in the heavy breaths.

"Here let me." You deftly undid the clasp of his pants, surprised at the steadiness of your hands. Hoseok seemed sheepish, not looking at you when he tugged the item down his lean legs. You sat transfixed, watching as his boxer briefs came into view, the front bulging. Well shit.

You were both now in only your underwear and stared at each other in silence. You swallowed loudly and flicked your eyes down to the mass before you, both intimidated and aroused. You could tell he was big, the tent in his boxer briefs leaving nothing to the imagination. You reached for them but was stopped by Hoseok. He cleared his throat but his sentence still came out hoarse.

“Another time, Y/N. I just...want to be inside you. If uh, you still want to.” He quickly added, scratching his head with his free hand. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, and leaned back to mimic his position earlier.

“I’m all yours.”

Teeth clashed together in a frenzy, tongues teasing and tasting sweaty skin. Remaining undergarments were ripped off, hands only briefly exploring before impatience got the better of you two. Hoseok held himself in his hands, and suddenly rubbed the tip on your clit, shocking you enough for a thought to cross your lust clouded brain.

“Hey Hoseok, do you have any protection?” It came out almost incomprehensible you were breathing so hard.

"Ah shit. Yeah I do. Sorry I almost forgot." He patted the area around him with one hand, still holding himself in the other. His dick was stiff and bright red, leaking already. Curiously you swiped the top of it, hearing a loud hiss from Hoseok.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He swore, finding the condom in the back of his jeans and ripping it open with his teeth. He rolled it down on himself in one fluid move before he slid between your legs, fitting himself in the v shape. He stared at the inviting image of you for a moment before using a hand to grasp your hip.

"Can I-?"

As if he needed any more permission.

"God yes."

He entered you fast and you flinched, the stretch instantly painful.

"My bad my bad, here I'll be gentler." He promised, pulling out and pushing back in at a much more comfortable pace. He stopped when his hips were flush with your thighs and took in a shuddering breath. He waited approximately five seconds until he began to thrust sharply, causing your body to slide up and down the shaggy floor. What an embarrassing way to get rug burn. You thought, reaching for Hoseok to ground yourself. He got the hint and intertwined one of your hands with his own, leaving the other to control his movements.

He wasn't overly thick but he was long, reaching places deep inside you that soon had tears springing to your eyes.

"Are you-ah, okay Y/N?" He'd noticed your emotional reaction and slowed.

"Ye-yes! Don't stop. Don't stop please!" You arched your back, shutting your eyes against the red hot sensations burning through you. You clawed at the carpet, feeling your stomach twist and your toes curl. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a second one was coming fast. You threw your head to the side, feeling utterly taken and oh so wanted.

Hoseok’s body stuttered then and his hips started to lose their rhythm.

"I don't know how much longer I'll last up here. I was already hard at the thought of seeing you tonight and then we kissed and-ugh you're so hot and wet. I just want to stay inside you forever." He was gasping, his words tumbling out in a slur, sweat caked on his tanned skin.

" I-I want to see you come again." Hoseok said suddenly, and you felt him rubbing erratically at your engorged clit.

You fell apart at his touch, bucking to meet the pleasure as your rode out your second high, only noticing that your partner was finished when he gave out a yell and was on top of you. You held him close, ignoring the twitching of your muscles in favor of burying your nose in his hair. Hoseok sighed and nuzzled your neck before pulling out of you and discarding the used rubber. He flopped down on the couch and waved you over, which you obeyed happily. You lay your head on his chest and listened to the strong thumping of his heart, wondering where in the hell you two would go from there. His fingers played in the curve of your back and you shuddered. You decided that maybe that thought could wait.

Written by Rose

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thorbruce-is-lit · 5 years

Text

i did it

I finally finished it!! It’s here!!!! All done!! I’ve finished the fic i was writing based off an older post; So As always, if you see any mistakes, or if you wanna ask anything, message me, or send an ask, or just comment. <3 <3

Millennia Together “…Huh.” It had been days of experiments leading to more loosely connected experiments, and Bruce had reached the end. Sure, there was probably so much more he could find in this rabbit hole of potential research, but he was done. He pushed himself back from his desk and leant back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “Huh.” he repeated to the ceiling. It wasn’t really prompted by anything, his decision to study his own DNA. Out of the blue, it had struck him as an interesting idea. To check out how it had mutated, see if there were any perks to being tied to the Hulk. One thing had led to another, interesting discoveries of weird genes had led to experiments, had led to more questions, and so on. But for now, he was done. “Immortal, huh?” This was gonna take a while to process.

Thor woke up to find the bed empty. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Bruce regularly got up in the early hours of the morning to work on one of his many projects with Tony. The pair would work themselves to death if they could work without interruption. He knew that the work Bruce was doing was important for potentially millions of people, but it still saddened him to wake up alone. He quickly forgot his sorrow though, dragging himself out of bed as he remembered Bruce was starting a new project that he promised to explain. He quickly made himself presentable enough to leave the compound, and left their room to go find Bruce. Thor walked into the lab with a grin and a “Good morning Stark!” “He’s not here, surprisingly.” Tony replied, looking up from his work. “Oh, and ‘morning to you too.” Thor gave a nod of acknowledgement and made to leave, when Tony said, “So you and Bruce huh?” He immediately saw Thor’s muscles tense and he could’ve sworn the air pressure in the room increased. “What about it?” Thor bit out defensively. He had been told by Bruce about the lack of acceptance on Earth, but he hadn’t expected it from Stark. Tony put his hands up in defence, “Woah there, Pointbreak nothing bad! I’m not one for hate. I’m just wondering if this is something you do… often.” he finished lamely. “If you are implying that I am not devoted to Bruce then—” “Hold on, not what I’m saying.” Tony cut him off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t mean to breach the subject like this, if at all. “It’s just… you don’t strike me as the type to deal with loss all too well. No offence.” Thor looked at him with a perplexed expression. He was completely lost. “Go on.” he prompted. Tony sighed. “Well, Bruce is human right? And, like other beings, humans have lifespans. You get my drift?” Tony was already regretting this conversation immensely, and seeing Thor’s expression upon realising he would outlive Bruce made him visibly flinch. “Thor?” No response. That was worrying. Tony thought about approaching him, but decided against it when acknowledging the chance of getting electrocuted. However after a few minutes of standing in silence, Tony couldn’t handle it anymore.“Listen, forget I said anything. Go find Bruce, give him a big ol’ hug and forget I ever spoke to you.” Thor, seemingly unhearing, stood in the doorway for a few more minutes before turning and leaving without a word, the look of immense grief still carved into his face. As soon as the door closed, Tony headbutted his desk, audibly moaning “I’m such a dumbass,” over and over.

Thor wanted to collapse into bed, to curl up into a ball and cry. He didn’t know how he could be so blind. Well, he did. Wilful ignorance, his mind’s desire to ignore the things he didn’t like. But not this time. He didn’t curl up and ignore his problems. That wasn’t enough this time. Instead, he walked over to his laptop that Stark had supplied him with. He was still getting used to how it worked, but he understood enough for what he needed. He pulled up a search engine and began to type. Sometime around 2am Bruce stumbled into the room and fell directly into bed, groaning. “Remind me to never accept a party invitation from Natasha ever again.” In his sleep deprived state, he didn’t register Thor’s delayed hum of acknowledgement. It was long after Bruce had gone to sleep before Thor wearily closed the lid of his laptop on pages and pages of research on prolonging the human lifespan.

Bruce woke up to the gentle sound of rain on the window. Closing his eyes, he listened closely to the ambient sounds of the room. He hated his inability to stay asleep sometimes, but the calm sound of Thor’s breathing could usually lull him back to sleep. Tonight however, Thor’s usually deep calming breaths were absent for the room, and instead Bruce could hear slightly laboured… whimpering? “Thor? Babe, are you awake?” Bruce whispered. The noise stopped immediately, but there was no answer. “Thor?” He tried again, but all he got in response was a loud snore, then a shuffling of movement, and finally the deep breathing he’d grown used to over the past months. He drifted off as the rain continued to fall.

“Welcome back Thor.” “Good to see you again, my friend.” Thor met Heimdall in a quick embrace. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I am in a hurry at the moment.” “Then I shall not keep you.” Heimdall replied with a knowing nod, gesturing for Thor to take his leave. Thanking him, Thor took off for the heart of the city.

Thor found himself still in the library the next day, surrounded by a myriad of texts varying from scientific papers, to ancient history, to mythology. So far, he’d found nothing. Absolutely nothing of value. He was frustrated and tired, and all he wanted was to be in bed at home with Bruce, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t face Bruce with the knowledge that he’d failed to find a solution. He sighed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes wearily, in an attempt to clear them of exhaustion. It didn’t work. With a groan he pulled himself from his seat and walked back over to the scientific research papers. He’d already looked through them countless times, and had picked out all the relevant ones. Still, despite the knowledge that there was nothing left, that he had scoured all possible sources for prolonging the life of Midguardians, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. “Thor.” Thor whipped his head around. He hadn’t thought anyone had seen him arrive. He relaxed at the sight of his friend. “Ah, Heimdall. You startled me, I thought Odin had noticed I’d returned.” “No, no one is aware of your presence but me. But you must leave soon, if you wish for it to remain that way.” Thor let out a frustrated sigh. “But I haven’t found what I’m looking for. I need more time.” “You aren’t going to find what you’re after here, Thor. I must advise you leave soon. Banner is beginning to worry.” That got Thor’s attention. “But… I can’t face him. I can’t do it.” “You must.” Thor looked at him with pleading eyes, as if Heimdall could make everything better. Heimdall responded with a sympathetic look, before turning to leave. “Come.” Thor followed.

He wanted to have not looked hard enough. He wanted the library to be missing research. He wanted to be lucky. But he knew in his heart that what he was looking for wasn’t there, and that he was doomed to be alone, remembering Bruce’s death for the millennia to come. But… He could still make some new memories, he realised. He could take Bruce to all the best planets, go on holidays and make the most of their time together. As he thought this, he felt some of the heaviness on his heart lift. That’s what he would do.

It had been a few weeks since the party, and Bruce was starting to notice something was off. Thor looked tired. He was sleep deprived, that much was obvious. Bruce wasn’t stupid. He knew that Thor wasn’t sleeping. He had woken up in the middle of the night more than once to find Thor’s side of the bed cold and empty. But Thor looked tired. He wished Thor would tell him where he was going, what was happening that required him to work himself into such a state, but breaching the subject was turning out to be difficult. It was starting to worry him, but every time he attempted to breach the subject Thor stopped immediately changed the topic. He wasn’t sure how much longer the conversation could be ignored though, because he knew there had to be a limit to Thor’s energy. Despite looking almost dead on his feet however, Thor still refused to talk to Bruce about it. Today was different though. Bruce’s concerned looks and questions of what was wrong were met with knowing smiles, rather than heavy silence or rushed counters. As the sun set, Thor approached Bruce in the lab, walking up to him and softly whispering “Come, I have something to show you.” The amount of feeling conveyed Thor’s tone made Bruce shiver, and he allowed himself to be led away from his work. He wasn’t willing to shut Thor out after the past few weeks, not even for his research. Thor led Bruce by the hand, occasionally looking back and smiling, and Bruce felt his heart lighten. This was different. This felt good. They stopped a short distance from the compound, and it was only then when Bruce noticed Thor was carrying Stormbreaker. “Where are we going?” Bruce asked. Thor looked into his eyes with a warm smile. “You’ll see.”

Bruce was at a loss for words. Tree branches resembling elegant, cold fingers twisted through the fog far below, giving the illusion of trapped souls in the mist. Bioluminescent moss coated the floor far below in a pale blue light. It was haunting. Far beyond the edge of the cliff, the sunset dominated the horizon, with a vast and intricate spread of deep purples to neon greens. The clouds swirled in enormous spiralled structures, with light passing through them at just the right angles to create an apparent glow. The sky at the distant horizon met with the vast, almost endless chasm in an impossibly flawless way, the fog rising to meet the air and glowing with all the colours of the sky. Bruce lent over the barrier preventing him from falling into the vast chasm, trying to see further through the fog in the weak light below. Thor stood by his side smiling to himself, no doubt enjoying the childish enthusiasm Bruce was radiating. “It’s… amazing.” he breathed. Thor chuckled. “You’ve said that.” “But… Look! It’s so beautiful!” Bruce exclaimed, struggling to put his feelings into words. “You’re beautiful.” Bruce looked away from the breathtaking view to see Thor smiling at him again, and felt all the stress of the past few weeks fade from his mind. He didn’t notice the sadness behind Thor’s eyes.

Bruce’s suspicions were rising again. In the past month, Thor had taken him on seven different impromptu trips. He wasn’t complaining, no. Each destination was more breathtaking than the last, and Bruce couldn’t get enough of it. That’s where the big problem was. He knew that his and Thor’s relationship wasn’t what it used to be. Ever since the night of the party, something had been off, but Bruce had thought it was getting better. Wilful ignorance. All these day trips to different planets were part of the problem, but Bruce’s scientifically driven mind had ignored the concern constantly eating at the back of his mind in favour of marvelling at the natural wonders of other worlds. Now however, Bruce was taking a stand. Among the unplanned trips, Thor was still disappearing most nights. Bruce was ashamed at his own selfish actions and knew the only way to fix everything was to just talk. But to do that, he needed Thor to cooperate. The issue here, was that every time he tried to bring it up Thor was still deflecting, either pretending nothing had changed or convincing him to go on another trip. He needed to find the right time to ask, where Thor couldn’t escape. But… he worried. He worried if Thor was withdrawing from him due to a lack of interest, or if something was happening that required Thor to leave. He didn’t want to ruin any time that could be their last. So he kept quiet, worrying silently and hoping beyond all hope that Thor was okay. That they were okay.

“Thor!!” He heard a panicked shout before he plunged into the deep spring. The warm water was relaxing, and he waited a few moments before pushing himself to the surface. He looked up at Bruce’s concerned face, peering down at him from the top of the sheer rock face, and beamed. “Come on, the water’s nice!” He pushed himself back through the water, spreading his arms out in invitation. “I don’t care Thor! There’s signage here for a reason, and I’m pretty sure it says ‘No Trespassing’.” “I don’t suppose I could convince you it says ‘join your boyfriend in the water’?” Bruce sent him a stern look in reply and Thor sighed, swimming to the edge of the spring and pulling himself out. “I know they’re pretty babe, but you can’t just throw yourself in there. I don’t want you to get arrested on an alien planet.” Bruce said as Thor climbed back to where Bruce was waiting. “We won’t get arrested! I’ll just use the Bifrost and we’ll be gone before they know what happened” Bruce shot him another stern look as Thor gathered his shirt off the floor. “We can appreciate them from up here. Look, you can see all the flora around the springs, and how it grows in patterns! That’s exciting!” Bruce exclaimed, gesturing at the view. “But would you not like to see how they work from down there? You can even collect samples!” Thor pushed. Bruce sighed again. “Of course I would, but—Thor!” He let out a small scream as Thor bodily picked him up and jumped off the edge, into the water below. Thor didn’t let go until they were at the surface, and as soon as he did Bruce pushed away and splashed at him. “Thor! We can’t be down here!” He punctuated each word with a splash. Thor grinned, and responded with an even bigger splash. “But we are down here Bruce. If we can’t be down here, how do you explain this?” Bruce couldn’t help himself as he chuckled. “Well, I suppose you have a point,” he conceded, “and no one else knows we’re here. So I suppose even if we shouldn’t be here, how would we know. No one’s told us we shouldn’t be here. For all I know that sign up there says ‘join your boyfriend in the water’.” Thor grinned even wider at that, and swum over to Bruce. “Well, what should we do now that we’re both down here?” he smirked, snaking his arms around Bruce’s middle. “I think you mentioned something about taking samples of the flora here.” Bruce smirked back, slipping out of Thor’s arms and taking off towards the bank. Before he had made it halfway, he felt a surge of water from behind him and turned just in time to be hit in the face with a massive wave. As Bruce spluttered, Thor laughed to himself, easily keeping himself above Bruce’s retaliatory splashes. “Bruce darling, you’re going to need to accept the fact that you will never beat me at this game. I’m too strong.” Bruce just grinned at that, and lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I give up.” He sighed dramatically. Thor beamed at that, missing the smirk Bruce sent his way. In the blink of an eye, a massive wave hit Thor directly in the face, knocking him back across the spring. “HA. We win.” Thor turned at the sound of Hulk’s voice, and shot him a dazzling smile. “Well I don’t think I can compete with that. At least, not safely.” They spent the next hour swimming together, breaking out into more than a few splash fights, until the sun began to dip below the horizon. “Thor off.” They had been lounging in silence for a while on the edge of the spring when Hulk spoke, out of the blue. “Hmm? What do you mean by that?” Thor said, blinking. He’d almost fallen asleep laying on Hulk’s arm, watching the colours of the sky change. “Thor off!” Hulk insisted, jostling Thor into full awareness as he sat up. “Oh, right. Sorry, I almost fell asleep.” “No! Banner says Thor is off. Different.” “Ah.” Thor swallowed guiltily. He should’ve known Bruce would’ve noticed his behaviour recently. “I guess.” “Why?” Hulk prompted after Thor made no motion to continue. “It’s difficult to explain.” Thor started. He didn’t know whether he should lie or not. He didn’t want to have to tell Bruce his troubles, the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about the future. “I’ll tell you some other time. I promise.” He sighed inwardly at his own cowardice. He was delaying the inevitable, and his behaviour was obviously worrying Bruce. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. Hulk grunted in agreement, but didn’t look too happy. “How about you let Banner come back for a while? He wanted to collect samples from here, and we’ll have to leave soon.” Thor stood up and stood in front of Hulk’s slouched form, kissing his forehead. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry.” Hulk looked up and nodded, before beginning to shrink back down. Thor knew it was selfish to ask for Bruce back, but he knew that Hulk wouldn’t let it go, that he would keep prying to protect Bruce from harm. He knew he had to tell Bruce, but he wanted a few more experiences with him before Bruce caught on to why they were travelling. Before he knew it, Bruce was looking up at him with a concerned expression. “Thor, snap out of it.” Bruce waved in front of his face and he realised he’d been lost in his head. He mentally shook himself, clearing his head and smiling back at Bruce. “Welcome back.” “Did we win?”

He had officially reached his breaking point. Even Hulk, in the back of Bruce’s mind, was constantly worrying about Thor, and he had just walked in on his boyfriend passed out on the kitchen bench. In his breakfast. Pulling him up, Bruce got one of Thor’s arms over his shoulder and half dragged him to the nearest couch, placing him down gently and standing back. Thor looked peaceful, and Bruce’s heart broke slightly, knowing how rare peace had come to him lately. He pulled up a chair in front of the couch and picked up the coffee table book Steve had bought for the main lounge. ‘Wonders of the World’. Bruce chuckled at that, flicking through to find places similar to the locations he and Thor had visited. After almost an hour, Thor began to wake up. Bruce sensed him stirring and immediately put down the book. “Thor? Are you alright?” Bruce didn’t miss the slight panic that crossed Thor’s face as he gained awareness, before it was quickly masked by a seemingly empty smile. “Of course. I must have just fallen asleep on the couch, it’s fine.” he yawned, and Bruce frowned. “Thor, you fell asleep on a stack of pancakes. I carried you here.” Thor looked a bit surprised at that. Bruce narrowed his eyes as Thor pushed himself into a seated position. He could sense Thor was avoiding the question on purpose, but he couldn’t predict what Thor’s reaction would be if he kept pressing. Then Thor stood up. “Well, if it’s as late as it looks, I need to—” “No.” Thor looked surprised at being cut off, Bruce noticed as he stood up himself. He was just as surprised himself, to be honest. He hadn’t meant to cut Thor off, but now that he had the attention he needed, he may as well continue. “What’s going on Thor? These trips, your behaviour recently, you need to tell me.” He said it sternly, making sure to hide his insecurity. He didn’t want Thor to sense his worry and flip the scene on him. Thor’s face went through a multitude of emotions before settling on grief, and he fell back into the couch, bringing his hands to his face. Bruce’s frustration was forgotten, quickly being replaced by concern. “I can’t… I can’t fix it.” Thor choked out, looking up at Bruce with eyes full of unshed tears. “I can’t find anything… I don’t want to lose you.” “What? Why are you losing me? I’m not planning on going anywhere sweetie.” Bruce questioned, crouching down and placing a comforting hand on Thor’s knee. Thor’s tears began falling, and he lifted his hands back to his face in a futile attempt to hide them. Bruce’s concern skyrocketed at that. “Babe, what’s going on? You know I would never leave you, right?” Thor took a moment to collect himself before responding, taking time to calm down while Bruce watched patiently. “Not now, not even soon. But it is inevitable. Death takes all humans at such an early age, and I will be left alone for millennia.” “Oh.” Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. He had long ago come to an acceptance that he’d outlive all his friends, potentially spending millennia alone. But in all of his wildest fantasies of what could’ve been wrong, he would never have imagined this. Bruce had been thinking that if he was lucky Thor would have stuck around for a few years before he got bored and left Bruce to be alone again. It was nothing to do with Thor’s personality of course. Bruce just wasn’t that interesting. And after all, if you live for millennia, what the point of remaining with someone like him for that long. But Thor somehow wanted to spend his life with him.He knew it was an illogical response, but Bruce couldn’t stop himself from giggling at his realisation. As soon as he sees the extreme hurt and confusion in Thor’s eyes however, he instantly felt guilty. “Nono, sweetie, I’m not laughing cause you’re sad, it’s just…” He couldn’t help the next wave of giggles, before managing; “I’m pretty much immortal.” At Thor’s dumbstruck look, he continued gleefully “After the other guy, my aging process has pretty much stopped. All this grey hair’s from stress.” After a shocked moment of silence, Thor started giggling too. He slid off the couch and knelt into an embrace, laughing in relief. They laughed until they were breathless, and Thor pulled back, hands on Bruce’s shoulders with a genuine smile. “This is the best news I have ever received!” And then as an afterthought, Thor added “I’ve so many trips still planned for us.” That set Bruce off again, and they both devolved into another fit of laughter. Tony walked in on the scene half an hour later and breathed a silent sigh of relief at the two, who were lying in a heap, still giggling with tears in their eyes. He was hoping the two would sort out the mess he caused. The guilt was eating at him. He backed out of the room and left the two in peace.

Bruce couldn’t believe that Thor wanted to spend his life with him. It was almost surreal, thinking about spending the rest of his life with Thor. His boyfriend lay beside him completely wiped out, finally being able to rest after the stress of the past weeks. As he lay with his back pressed against Thor, he traced the ring he held in his palm. The realisations of the day still raced through his head, erasing all doubts he had held about proposing. He smiled to himself and closed his fist. Tomorrow, he’d do it. He fell asleep within minutes, the smile never leaving his face.

#thorbruce #brucethor #thunderscience #gammahammer #thundersmash #fic #my writing #i finally did it guys #are you proud of me?#its 2am and i cant see properly #but i did it

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niall-talk · 5 years

Text

Love Destination (4)

A/N: sorry this one took a lttle longer tjan I expected. Niall left at the Altar. Only one re-read and it is 230a.m. going to have mistakes. Enjoy

Y/N pov

“Hey you're back,” your voice cracked. You tried to clear your throat. You noticed the soft look on his face. The anger and hurt seemed to have disappeared from his eyes. You just wish that he would say something. This awkward silence from him did not help the sickness in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah had to step away and get my head sorted. You alright?” His voice was a little uneven. His eyes were trained on you. You're not even sure he noticed the table of food he was so concentrated on your face.

“Yes,” you paused, “no. I mean I don't know.” That got a concerned glance from Niall. You let out a breath you didn't even know you had held in. “It's ok. I'm better now that you're back. Come on have a seat and eat.” You didn't want to talk about everything just yet. The idea that you might actually be in love with Niall was still new to you.

He finally looked at the table when he pulled the chair out. “What is all of this?” He actually looked a little shocked at the plate of food and the table settings.

“Had to do something to keep from going crazy. It is shrimp carbonara and garlic toast.” You waited for him to take a bite so you could see his reaction. You didn't know why but you wanted him to be impressed with your culinary skills that you had developed.

“Is it poisoned? Is that why you're not eating it?” He let out a chuckle. His fork full halted halfway between the plate and his mouth.

“Haha Horan. No I just want to see your reaction.” You were glad that this was where the conversation was for the moment. You knew that soon enough it was going to get heavy. You didn't want to talk about what happened just hours ago.

“Still think you're trying to poison me.” He took a bite and sat there for a second. Next thing you knew he was leaned back against the chair. “Yup you killed me. I'm dead.” He sat upright with an amused look on his face.

“Niall,” you all but whined his name.

“Y/N,” he matched your whine.

“Stop it. Do you like it?” You asked. You knew that he would drag on you if it wasn't as good as his cooking.

“Yeah. It's good. I mean it's no Chef Nialler, but it's good.” His face broke out into a big smile that made you feel a lot better than you did ten minutes ago.

You kicked him under the table with your barefoot. “Haha Chef Nialler. Eat.” You dug into your own serving of pasta. The two of you ate with little conversation. You both knew that the elephant in the room had to be talked about eventually. You decided that with full stomachs and a little wine that it might be safe to bring it up. “So where did you go?” You asked nonchalantly as you took his plate to the kitchen with yours.

You heard him groan and you looked over your shoulder to see him stand up. Oh no too soon, too soon; you said over and over in your head. He poured the rest of the win into the glasses as he stood there by the table.

Niall's pov

“Meet me outside with these.” You gestured to the glasses. You waited till she acknowledged she understood with a nod of her head. You went outside to the firepit and started another fire. You always felt calmed when you could stare into the dancing flames of a good fire.

Within seconds Y/N had joined you with the drinks and a blanket.

You sat in the loungers and silently watched the flames dance around each other. Listened to the crackle of the wood as it burned. You turned to watch her face. She was just as mesmerized by the fire as you were. You smiled softly at her. You knew what needed to be said, but you didn't want to chance it breaking the calmness of the moment.

You cleared your throat, “So you asked where I went.” She looked at you with heavy eyes. You could tell she didn't want to do this either, but knew you had to. “I walked back to the resort to the bar. Was going to drink and keep drinking till I couldn't feel anything.” You paused to look at the nearly finished glass of wine. You sat it down on the sand beside your lounge. “I was hurt. Hell I've been hurt since the wedding day. But was hurt that you yelled at me. Hurt that you brought up one of my biggest insecurities you knew I had. I was mad that you yelled at me, but mostly I was confused.”

“I'm sorry Niall. I shouldn't have said what I did when I yelled at you. I was just mad and I just,” she paused. “I over reacted to the fact that she was the reason I almost gave up on us.” Y/N turned her gaze back to the fire.

“Wait. What do you mean you almost gave up on us?” This was news to you. You didn't know exactly how to take that.

“I mean every time I would be in you had something to do with her. We had never gone that long without seeing each other, but those times were growing fewer and fewer. Your phone calls and messages were nearly nonexistent till you messaged me about coming in for the wedding. I just thought that you had outgrown our friendship.” her voice was so quiet when she finished you weren't sure you heard her correctly.

“Outgrow our friendship? Never could do that. You mean too much to me.” You paused for a moment. “It might have seemed that way, but I never questioned that you were or wasn't one of my best friends.”

“So anyway what happened at the bar. You obviously didn't follow through with your plan,” she got you back on track.

“I just wasn't up to it after I got there. Didn't even finish my first pint in one hour. The bar keep pulled me a fresh one and talked to me for a few minutes. Told me I needed to come back and tell you I was sorry for yellin’ at ya.” That got a smile from her, “So I'm sorry about that.”

“Don't be. I yelled at you and was hateful and mean when I did it. I'm sorry for how I acted.” Y/N's demeanor had changed from the time she came out to join you. She seemed scared at first. Now she seemed more ashamed.

“No you had the right to feel like you did. But you have to understand that this is my life. I have the right to make choices, mistakes to learn from. To grow from.”

The two of you talked it out like you should have from the beginning. “You know I love ya right? Always have always will,” you told her with a smile.

Y/N pov

Your heart wanted to explode when you heard the words I love you leave his lips. You knew that he didn't mean it the way you wanted him to, but you would take it. “I love you too Niall.” The words fell from your lips, and it felt like a confession.

“Are we ok?” His eyes were trained back to the fire. You noticed that it had started to die out.

“Yeah we're good Nialler.” You pulled the blanket closer feeling the cool night air blowing off the ocean. You noticed he stood from his seat, “Where you going?”

“Got to take a piss,” he said over his shoulder as he headed inside.

You cuddled up with your blanket and wondered what it would be like to actually be there as Ms. Niall Horan. You figured there wouldn't have been the big blow up. You smiled to yourself of how sweet and cuddly he would be. How handsy he would be. Then you thought about kissing him. You shook your head. You had to stop there. He was your best friend. He didn't see you as anything more than that. Your brain betrayed you, and retreated to the thoughts of kissing, holding him and him in bed.

You suddenly jolted upright. The bed. You couldn't sleep in the same bed as him. Not now anyway. Lost in your head you didn't realize that he had returned and had sat beside you. “Scoot over,” he tapped your hip for you to make room. You're heart thumped so hard and loud in your chest you were sure he could hear or see it. You moved over and he curled up under the blanket with you.

You kept your eyes either on the fire or the moonlight dancing on the water. It would be a perfect romantic way to spend the night with your significant other; if you had one. Unfortunately for you that was not the case. Your last actual relationship was over a year ago. You let out a sigh at the thought of your failed relationships. None of them truly understood you and your crazy life. How you loved everything to do with music. How you felt like you were suffocating if you were in one place for too long. You got use to being in a different town everyday back when you were on tour with your parents. It wasn't until you started school that you had settled down in one spot.

“What's goin’ on in that head of yours?” His voice broke through your thoughts of the past. He leaned his upper body against your arm and his warmth felt like it was going to consume you.

“Just thinking,” you really didn't want to get into past relationship talks with him. You were pretty sure that he would win that contest. He nudged you and waited for a real answer. “Just thinking of how this would be a perfect date night, and then fell down the rabbit hole of past relationship mistakes.”

He moved around and finally managed to have you pretty much in his lap curled up into his chest. For as much as you wanted to be there; you knew that it would be better if you weren't. You laid your head against his shoulder and let his scent mixed with the salty sea air assault your senses. You knew better than to do it, but you let your guard down.

When you relaxed into him you felt the tension in his body melt away. He trailed one hand up and down your back as he hummed a melody to himself. You let a slight giggle escape as his chest vibrated against you due to the humming. “What's so funny giggles?”

You placed your hand to his chest,”Do it again.” He just looked at you as if he didn't have a clue what you were talking about. “Hum that song again. When you did your chest vibrated and it felt funny.”

“Your a real nutter ya know?” He started to hum and his chest vibrated against your hand. You moved your hand away and snuggled into him and he kissed your hairline. “Glad you came here with me. I've missed being around you,” his lips still pressed to your forehead.

#niall horan #niall fic #why am i like this #non smut #anon request #thank you anon #niall left at the altar

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gusenitsaa · 5 years

Text

Daylight Fading

Alternate version of the underworld arc toying with the idea that people in the underworld gradually forget themselves. A twist on greek mythology once-ified because why not!

The idea came out of the 'all headcanons come with a price' discord conversation with @icecubelotr44 @pirate-owl and was saved from the abyss of our own forgetfulness by @rumdaydreams saving it in a google doc. Sooooo... beware of angst. Artwork by @queen-mabs-revenge included to unexpectedly hurt her with her own stuff, obviously.

Read on FF.

He could still feel the heat of it and the chill.

She's gone. Or he was. There was no one to fight, no one to fight for. No course to plot.

He was dead.

The underworld mocked him with familiar streets. If he were to look he was quite certain there would be a caricature of the home he meant to share with Emma, but he didn't want to see it.

The Rabbit hole was here and it seemed as good a place as any to hide and lick his wounds. It wasn't called the Rabbit Hole down here. Here the sign above the door read "Three Sheets" with what could only be described as three cartoon pillow cases flapping in the breeze on the logo.

Killian sighed in irritation, mumbling under his breath "that's not what bloody sheet me-" his annoyed comment got caught in his throat when the door opened in front of him and his eyes locked on the man behind the bar. "Liam?" the name came out choked and Killian was frozen in place, staring. He had shed the uniform for a sweater and slacks but it was without a doubt… his big brother.

For a moment he wasn't sure if he could force his legs to move. They felt as wobbly as they had moments ago when he'd collapsed with a sword in his chest. Finally he managed a deep breath, steadying himself. A smile pulled at his lips then broadened into a grin. He had not truly dared to hope that he might see Liam again someday; was so certain that men like him and men like his brother could never be going to the same place. But it was him, Liam, working as efficiently behind the bar as he ever had before the mast, what he could see of the place just as neat and tidy as he would expect.

Killian walked up to the bar in a daze, half convinced it was all a dream. It became a nightmare in a single moment when Liam met his eyes and there is nothing.

"Can I get you something?"

Killian was frozen in place for a moment, staring dumbly. Liam's eyes drifted down the bar to the next customer with a hint of annoyance. He didn't even meet Killian's eyes again when he said "Let me know when you decide" and moved on to the person occupying the next stool.

And still Killian stared at him like a bloody fool, trying not to sob like a child because damn it if it wasn't his one desperate hope when he woke up in this hellish place. Finding them, maybe being able to see them once more before... whatever the hell happens to men like him. Some part of him wanted to run, to hide away from this torment, from the brother who doesn't know him, who looks through him like he was just one more face in the crowd (he WAS just one more face in the crowd.) Another part is rooted in place, unable to give up the sight of his brother, even if Liam doesn't know him now.

He can't move, can't leave even as Liam gives him a sharp look when he realizes Killian is still staring at him.

Finally Liam approached him again but it's only to tersely ask "are you drinking or just taking up space at my bar?"

Killian can barely manage the word "rum" without his voice shaking.

He hoped like hell the rum will give him the strength to speak. To do something other than stare and hurt and hope that he'd wake from this nightmare and Liam would look at him... just look at him. The rum makes the room fuzzy eventually, other patrons filtering out over time until it's just the two of them and a few bar flies in the corner that Killian imagines will likely stay until Liam kicks them out.

"It fades," Liam finally told him, when enough customers have left that he had no choice but to engage the new customer that has been watching him all night. "Whatever it is from topside that haunts you so. It will fade."

Killian took another drink, trying to just... drown enough of the rawness to be able to speak.

"What fades?" he finally managed.

"Everything." Liam shrugged. There's something almost sad in his tone and it's like another dagger through Killian's heart. "Your life above. The good and the bad, it all fades here."

"You don't remember anything?" Killian couldn't help but ask. Even though he dreaded the finality of the answer.

"Just... feelings. I think it hurt a lot. Topside." Liam shrugged, "it's probably better this way."

Killian swallowed hard and put down his empty glass. "Aye, perhaps it is."

He tries to blame the heaviness of his steps on the liquor as he finally managed to drag himself from the stool and out the door, away from Liam's gaze. He barely managed to make it outside the door before collapsing heavily against the wall outside, his eyes burning with tears he refused to let fall.

It fades. Liam's words echo in his head. There's nothing left now. Liam didn't remember him, Milah has been gone nearly so long as Liam, surely her love has faded as well… And his own. The desperate love he still clings to. For Liam, for Milah. For Emma and Henry and her family... it will all fade. Until there is nothing left of him at all. Just a shell who remembers nothing more than: It hurt. But maybe it's better now.

The door swung open and the barflies were ushered from the bar by Liam's stern voice. "off with you gents, see you tomorrow-" And then Liam was kneeling next to him, his eyes a peculiar sort of distant kindness. Warmth without recognition. Concern without love. Liam's hand came down on his shoulder and he flinched away, the shadow of what they'd once had hurting more than indifference.

"What's your name?" Liam asked and Killian almost doesn't answer. His head fell heavily onto his hand, unable to look at Liam while he answered. "Killian. It's Killian Jones."

"Killian Jones?" There's no recognition in his voice but there was something else... curiosity.

"Come inside, Killian Jones-" The offer sounded like an order and Killian obeyed without question.

Liam helped him to his feet and back into the bar and Killian slumped into a booth, still barely able to look at Liam. He disappearer into the back room for a minute and Killian wondered if he'd even return, or if pity had driven him to let him in like a stray cat out of the cold. When the door opened again there was a yellowed envelope in Liam's hand. "I don't know for sure if this will mean anything to you… but …" He offered the envelope to Killian without a word.

Killian recognized Liam's handwriting on the front immediately, Killian Jones written in his brother's neat cursive. The paper is fragile with age and Killian takes it gently and unfolds the letter within.

Killian,

I'm so sorry Killian. I should have listened to you. I never wanted to leave you alone. It was the one thing I swore I'd never do and yet my stubbornness led me to break the only promise that was ever worth keeping. And now I fear I may leave you more alone than I ever thought possible.

I've forgotten your birthday, Killian. I remember the time I nicked apples from the market for you to celebrate, soft bread, double rations if I could manage no more than giving you my own. I remember how desperately I wanted your birthday to still be special. Despite everything. But I don't remember what day it is now.

I was told things fade. I didn't believe them. I didn't believe it was possible that I could ever ever forget you. But it seems even my stubbornness has its limits. I fear that more will fade. That I will never even know all of the precious memories that have abandoned me in this place. That one day you may join me here and find a man who doesn't even remember how much he loves you.

I don't know how to stop it. But I will fight it. I love you little brother and if these pages are all that is left of me I am so very sorry I've failed you again. Please know that I tried.

Your Brother, always

Liam

Killian's hand shook as he set the letter down, worried he'd tear it if he clutched at it any tighter. He'd long since lost the fight against his own tears but he didn't care anymore. He chanced a look at his brother-

"I found them when I was cleaning out the back room one day," Liam offered, his voice small. "There's more... a lot more. I haven't read them all but... he must have loved you very much."

Killian nodded, not trusting his voice for a moment. "Can I see them?"

There were more, so many more. A sizable box filled with envelopes, each with Killian's name neatly on the front. Far too many for Liam to really have found them while cleaning. But Killian knew what had happened. He'd woken one day no longer remembering Killian's name, or his own and come to the only conclusion that he could make sense of. Someone else had left them here during the night.

Some were longer than others, some little more than stories, things Liam couldn't bear to forget. A race against time, against his own failing mind. The early letters were crumpled, as though Liam had spent hours rereading them, trying to solidify their contents in his mind by sheer force of will.

He found lists amongst the letters, and short notes to himself, reminders in abbreviated form, nearly worn through from being folded in a pocket day in and day out.

Killian Jones, your little brother. Don't forget him. You can't forget him.

The letters changed. Fewer memories, more action reports. Recording the courses he'd already tried in his desperate attempts to protect his memories, lists of books he'd already read, more lists of books he'd yet to read.

He found one from the day Milah died, smudged with tears and with a faded charcoal drawing clipped to it.

I forgot your face, Killian. I'm sorry. But she gave it back to me.

Liam didn't hover while he was reading, retreating to the bar so as not to intrude into something that seemed to have so little to do with him. For a moment he was grateful Liam didn't see the tears that filled Killian's eyes. Liam had been hurting so badly, was so desperately trying to hold on to his memories even though they hurt. He was trying so hard, was so desperate that the only thing that remained in the end was this vague feeling that whatever came before hurt. For a moment Killian wondered if maybe it really was better this way. Because if he remembered he'd have to remember everything. Their cursed childhood, their struggles just to survive, every beating he'd ever taken to keep his little brother safe, every one he couldn't save Killian from. Neverland. Dying. His own mind abandoning him piece by piece.

This way it's gone. The agony, the pain, the desperation, the guilt.

(the love, the loyalty.)

Killian pulled out the last letter. It was little more than a list of books. One was circled and marked with a question mark and a scrawled.

Find someone who can read greek?

He no longer remembered learning to read Greek, apparently.

Killian finally looked up at Liam. He was still tidying up but he recognized the inefficient movements for what they were. He was stalling, giving Killian time to read.

"Can I take these with me?" he asked.

"They're yours."

The next day Killian started reading where Liam left off.

Liam had been so close. There were little tiny x's in the bottom right of every book's title page that Liam had read and notes scribbled into the margins with an uncharacteristic messiness. It took Killian very little time to find and translate the book that Liam had thought was important but could no longer remember how to read.

It doesn't take him long to find in the mythology a common thread of forgetfulness in the underworld tied to the rivers and the food. He stops eating and drinking himself. It was uncomfortable at first. The mind thinks it is in need when it truly isn't. But he got used to it. Realized that down here it wasn't truly needed. And most importantly, unlike everyone else, his life above wasn't fading. He could still remember, everything. He has his own versions of letters. To Emma and Henry, to Milah and Liam and David and everyone it would pain to one day find him with no memories of them. He checked his mind against them daily and while people around him arrived and faded, his memories remained sharp.

What he doesn't know is if they could come back. If he could bring his brother back by getting him away from that water. If he should, even if it were possible.

"If it were true, would you want to remember?" Killian asked one day, sitting at the bar with a rum he wasn't drinking in one hand, watching Liam carefully.

"If what were true?"

"The letters you found. My brother's letters. If it were you, would you want to remember?" Liam shrugged a little, taking a sip of water behind the bar which Killian struggled not to smack from his hand.

"Doesn't matter if I would want to remember," Liam said finally.

Killian's eyes furrowed, "Why not?"

"Because he wanted to remember."

With one sentence the days of conflict in his mind stilled. Liam was right…. he was always right. It wasn't his decision to make. He didn't have to decide if this shadow of his brother was better off without the memories of his old life.

Liam had fought for those memories. Desperately. With a fervor that stretched for pages and pages of stories and notes and scribbles on the margins of books in languages he no longer knew how to read.

Liam wanted to remember.

But how do you convince someone to forego something so basic as food and drink?

If you're Captain Hook… you wait until after closing, knock them over the head and cuff them to their own bed behind their own bar.

"I'm sorry," he whispered when Liam came around.

"What the bloody hell are you doing!" Liam cried, tugging at the cuff. Where did you even get these?"

"There's a sheriff's station down here too."

"Let me go, Killian, this is mad."

"Give me three days, Liam," Killian begged. "Three days without the food and water of this place and if you don't remember anything-" "Gods, you think I'm him?" Liam stammered, "You think I'm your brother. We share a first name, that doesn't make me him. Do you have any idea how many Liams there are in the underworld?"

"Is it so much more mad than your theory, that Liam Jones simply slipped into your room one night and left a box of letters and vanished?"

"You are mad."

"Perhaps. We'll decide in three days."

Liam was NOT a well behaved captive. Though Killian should have supposed he wouldn't be. For hours he screamed for help from the patrons he was sure were on the other side of the door. They weren't. The door was locked and the door reinforced with a broken bar stool. Even so Killian almost gave in then, his brother's cries lodging sharp in his heart. After that he tried to convince Killian by plea threat or logic that this was madness.

Maybe he was making a mistake, maybe Liam didn't really want…

He shook his head. He'd made a deal with himself for three days. For the version of his brother who had wanted this.

Well... perhaps not this exactly.

Definitely not what Liam had in mind.....

Part 2

Leave me a note! I live off reviews and tears.

#jones brothers ff #the brothers jones #underworld au #all headcanons come with a price #cs ff

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idreamofhazeleyes · 5 years

Text

Ties in Blood -- Chapter 23

Took longer then expected. Be prepared for some blood and a minor break down.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @percussiongirl2017 @winchestergirl-13 @impala-dreamer @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @optimisticpeacecollector5 @arazialotis @malinq-ashida

Chapter 23

Aaliyah killed the engine and climbed out of the car. There was something about the apartment building that just called out to her. Just as she closed the door behind her came the familiar rumble of the Impala. She hadn’t expected to see them so soon, but maybe it was a good thing. Sam was the first one to spot her and flashed her a gentle smile. Aaliyah returned the smile as she circled around the cars. She didn’t pull away when he took her in with a hug.

“I’m sorry about Amanda,” he told her.

“Thanks, Sam.” She squeezed him before pulling away. “Dean.”

“Sam told me,” the elder brother answered. “Remind me to stand you a round after we finish this case.”

Aaliyah shook her head. “I’m good on alcohol for a while. What’s the case? Sam mentioned one of your dad’s storage units was broken into.”

“Are you sure you wanna help?” Sam asked.

“Positive. I can’t hide away in some crappy motel for a week before I get over it.” Aaliyah suppressed the shiver caused by the memory of swallowing the pills. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”

“Not a clue,” Dean answered, getting antsy. “But there’s a couple assholes here that have it. Go get your gun.”

Aaliyah heard Dean and Sam mutter to each other as she returned to her car and fished out her hand gun. She jogged after them toward the door. The three of them fell into line as they had once before; Dean in front, Aaliyah behind him, and Sam in the rear. A sense of being secured with the boys settled over her as they all climbed the stairs. She heard yelling from a hallway and gestured to Dean. He nodded and led the way down to the door the yelling came from.

Each of them took a spot at the door; Dean positioned so he can bust the door in, Sam across from him, and Aaliyah back against the wall ready to charge in after them. Aaliyah nodded when Dean glanced at her, making sure they all were ready. She didn’t blink when the door was kicked in and Dean shouted for those in the room to freeze. Sliding behind Sam, Aaliyah spotted an old metal container that looked like it held a good thousand rounds. She cursed the luck it was already open.

One of the two men Sam and Dean held up yelled, asking if they were cops. Aaliyah caught the gaze of the one Dean held to the table where a rabbit’s foot rested. She held back any comment about the foot, knowing she’d seen worse things, and lunged for it just as Dean was pushed by the man. She missed when a shot went off. Unsure of what was happening admit all the pushing and yelling, Aaliyah was hauled up to her feet by the back of her jacket. The one that had been cornered by Dean put the muzzle of his gun against her head.

“Stop or she dies,” the man said.

Her mind and body froze. After all the years of hunting, Aaliyah hadn’t planned on being killed by a person.

“Okay, now hang on a minute,” Dean said, his hands spread out to show he held no weapon. “You know she hasn’t done anything to you.”

“But she’s involved,” the man said.

Aaliyah shifted her eyes around the room without turning her head before seeing the rabbit’s foot in Sam’s hand. He matched her own gaze and nodded. She watched him toss it toward her, waiting for the right moment to reach out and grab hold of it. Just then, the man who had held her at gunpoint pulled the trigger. Aaliyah pivoted away from him and grabbed his gun from him with her free hand. She made a full circle and looked between what she held before up to the man. Aaliyah felt her mouth pull into a smirk and watched the man trip backward over the couch. Behind her was a crash. She looked back over a shoulder to see a bookshelf had fallen on the second man.

Aaliyah held up the rabbit’s foot. “I’d be damned,” she said. “We should stop for some food.” She put the foot into a pocket and smiled. “First, I’m making a stop for gas.”

“Meet us at Biggerson’s,” Sam said.

***

Aaliyah walked back to the car with a bag of road snacks that got put into the backseat before she put the gas nozzle into the car. She leaned against the vehicle before looking into the paper bag that held all the scratch off tickets. It had been a thought back at the apartment. If more than one of the tickets paid off big time, Aaliyah figured she’d let the boys have a turn with the rabbit’s foot. The pump stopped when the car tank was filled and Aaliyah replaced the nozzle.

She found a coin as she settled into the driver’s seat before pulling out a scratch off. Part of her didn’t actually believe that she’d win anything more than five dollars. Yet Aaliyah stared at the scratch off to see that she gained the maximum pay out for it. She scratched off half the bag, each ticket yielded its maximum payout. Aaliyah glanced around her and reached over and tossed the tickets she scratched off into the glove box.

Aaliyah glanced into the bag at the rest of the scratch offs and decided to wait until she reached the restaurant. She drove off from the gas station for the restaurant. She looked for the Impala in the parking lot but didn’t find it. Claiming a parking spot, Aaliyah fished out the coin she had used on the scratch offs and finished the bag; each ticket again yielding max payout. A good million or so dollars. It would keep her set on money for a while. A knuckle rap at the window startled Aaliyah, dropping some of the scratch offs. She gathered what she could before putting them into the glove box.

“Heya, Sam,” Aaliyah half chided when she climbed out of the car, making sure it was locked. She gave him a smile and fished out the rabbit’s foot, handing it over to him. “If you two can hand on to this long enough, scratch offs.”

“Are you okay? Really?” Sam asked, turning for the Impala, pocketing the foot.

“I … I don’t know, Sam,” Aaliyah fell into step with Sam. “Amanda had been the one to help me ease into hunting after the werewolf. I feel guilty for not being able to make it to her in time. But …” She took a deep breath. “I think she was grateful I was there at the end.” She spotted Dean working his way through some of his own scratch off tickets, a big smile on his face. “I guess the luck spread to you guys, huh?” She gestured to Dean when she caught Sam’s confused expression.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam’s cell started ringing and he answered. “Hey, Bobby.”

Aaliyah wandered away from him, catching pieces of the conversation. At one point she saw Sam glance over at her. She ambled back over as he put Bobby on speaker. “Hey, Bobby,” she greeted.

“Dammit, Aaliyah,” Bobby cursed. “What got in your head?”

“I was trying to help on a case. Apparently I can’t do that now without one of you three yelling at what I do.” She shifted her weight. “What kinda mess did we get into now?”

Bobby sighed. “At least you know you’re in a hole. That rabbit’s foot ain’t no dime store knock off, kid. It’s real Hoodoo, Old World stuff. Made a hundred years ago by a Baton Rouge priestess.”

“It’s a hell of a luck charm,” Sam cut in.

“It’s not a luck charm,” Bobby corrected. “She made it to kill people. See, you touch it, you own it. Sure, you get a good run of luck to beat the devil. But you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you’re dead within a week.”

“How can we break the curse?” Aaliyah asked.

There was a sigh from Bobby’s end. “I don’t know if you can. Just sit tight and lemme look through the books and make some calls.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said before ending the call.

“Look, we’re up fifteen grand,” Dean said, coming over and showing Sam the scratch offs.

Aaliyah let out a little huff, gaining Dean’s attention. He looked at her and Aaliyah wasn’t sure if he would walk away or stay and say something. He walked past her without a word. Okay, fine. Deal with the rabbit foot first, then maybe yell and argue about her choice later. Aaliyah trailed after the brothers into the restaurant where Dean asked a table for three. She flinched when an alarm started going off. One of the excited staff members pushed her up between Sam and Dean as several flashes went off. Aaliyah ducked away when her eyes recovered from the flashes of pictures being taken and followed along to a booth.

She ate in relative silence next to Dean enjoyed his meal – followed by a bowl of ice cream – and Sam had his nose in his laptop. Aaliyah watched the waitress fill Sam’s coffee and held back a scoff as she spilled some of the hot liquid. Aaliyah watched the waitress flirt a little before walking away. There was something about that waitress Aaliyah couldn’t put a finger on. She turned her attention back to finishing her fries before Sam manages to spill his coffee onto the table and himself. In his jump from the table, he bumped into another waitress, sending things everywhere.

“We can’t go anywhere with him,” Aaliyah muttered to Dean as he shifted out of the booth.

“How was that good?” Dean asked.

Aaliyah watched Sam pat down his coat pockets to find the rabbit’s foot was missing. She followed after them out of the restaurant at a slower pace. There was no way she was gonna risk her luck now. Sam tripped up somehow, managing to cut through his jeans and scrap both his knees.

“I hate to see how bad my luck turns,” Aaliyah comments as she helped Sam to his feet. Her face contorted with slight disgust when she inspected his knees. “I think we need to get back to that apartment.” She glanced over at Dean, who seemed to be thinking before he motioned to the Impala.

Aaliyah stayed quiet in the backseat, not willing to take the chance of starting an argument with Dean driving. She started to space out while looking out the window, watching the scenery race by. At some point her mind pulled up the image of finding Amanda in the motel tub. Her palms started to clam up and a small layer of sweat was soaked up by her clothes.

“Dean, stop the car,” Aaliyah said, rolling down the window. She shivered from the wind hitting her skin. She swallowed hard as her heart raced, thumping against her ribs.

“What? You can’t handle a little speed?” he shot back.

“I mean it, stop.” Aaliyah looked to the front seat and met Sam’s gaze.

“Dean, pull over,” Sam told his brother.

Aaliyah heard him grumble even as the car moved off the road. She opened the door as it slowed and fell out when the car made a complete stop. Hands helped her into sitting up and put her back against the back wheel of the car. Her lungs struggled to expand in their attempt to breathe. She could hear the brothers talk about something as she pulled her knees up and put her head between them. Aaliyah closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself down. She heard shuffling from Sam and Dean sitting down on either side of her. Neither of them spoke to her as her body came through the other side of whatever was happening.

“Thanks,” Aaliyah told them, propping her chin on her arms. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You panicked,” Dean told her.

She winced at hearing the anger being held back from him. He must have sensed that since Aaliyah felt his body release some tension.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Wanna talk about it?”

Aaliyah shifted her eyes in his direction, unsure where this gentle side of him was coming from. Did she really wanna talk about finding Amanda in the motel bathroom and being there at the end? Or did she want it just eat her away until she broke again? “I do, but it’s still too fresh for me. If I stop for a moment, it’ll all just bubble up again.”

“Are you sure?” Sam questioned.

Aaliyah heard the worry in his voice, the way he was wanting to help but not wanting to press too hard. “Remember how I said Amanda was gutted by that wendigo? I don’t mean it sliced just a little bit to show some fat or muscle. I mean her guts were falling out and there was no hope of me fixing her up, gutted.”

“God,” Dean breathed. “And she was still alive?”

“Barely.” Aaliyah shuddered at the image of Amanda in the bathtub. “I don’t know how she managed to get into the tub at the motel; or how long she was there before I showed up.” She shifted her arms down and hugged her legs. “I can’t shake this feeling like there should have been more I could have done to help her. Amanda didn’t deserve to die in a crappy motel room with her guts hanging out.”

“It’s a short life for us,” Dean said, his voice soft. “Not every hunter gets to grow old and get to sit at home and help those out doing the dirty work.”

Aaliyah’s mind brought up the fight she had with the werewolf. How did it not sever her spine? Or go just a bit too far on her side? She fought back the tears that threatened to fall. In defiance, she pushed herself up to her feet. “I can’t do this anymore.” She took a few steps away from the car

“Wait just a second,” Dean said, working himself up after her. “What are you talking about?”

Aaliyah snapped back around to face him. “I want out, Dean.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I’m going back to get my car.” She started in the direction they were coming from.

“Aaliyah, wait,” Sam called after her. “You’re blaming yourself for something you had no control over.”

Aaliyah stopped as her gaze fell to her feet. “She was my best friend in college. She didn’t ask any questions, just for me to be her friend. I was the one who dragged her back into hunting when I went looking for my dad and Xander. She wanted out of the killing, the long days that blurred together, the stupid greasy food, the …” Aaliyah’s throat caught a little. She didn’t fight the first few tears that escaped down her cheeks. She turned around to face Sam. “I can blame myself for Amanda’s death when I dragged her out of retirement.”

She didn’t fight Sam off when he stepped in close and wrapped his arms around her. Her cries were muffled by his jacket that were stained with her tears. Her good friend was dead because she didn’t want Aaliyah to go out on her second hunt alone.

A hand rubbed Aaliyah’s back in an attempt to help sooth her. Aaliyah wasn’t sure how long they stood there before the tears stopped and she wrapped her arms around Sam. “Thanks, Sam.” She pulled away and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her jacket.

“Yes, well, as touching as that was,” Dean cut in. “We’re still missing a foot here.”

Aaliyah turned her attention to him and glared. “I don’t wanna hear it. Sue me for a friend’s death finally hitting me.” She watched him open and close his mouth in an attempt to say something but didn’t. All he did was gesture back to the Impala, even opened the back door for her. Aaliyah debated if she really wanted to be in an enclosed space with Dean before accepting the ride along. She laid down as Dean closed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Her mind finally gave out and slipped into unconsciousness.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Dean’s voice drifted into Aaliyah’s head. “Time to wake up.”

“Shove off, dickwad,” Aaliyah spat at him before trying to roll away from him.

There was a moment of silence before Dean started again. “Listen, Aaliyah. I’m sorry about Amanda. Really, I am. I promise, once this shit with the rabbit’s foot and Bela’s done, I’ll get you nice and drunk.”

“Bela?” Aaliyah moaned, her body moved enough so she could look at Dean. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

“She’s the one who got our rabbit foot,” Dean said.

Aaliyah worked herself into sitting up. “Nah, like I’ve heard her name whispered by a couple hunters when I went after Amanda.” She rubbed her eyes before looking around. “Did I sleep the day away?”

“Thought it was better if you did. Wanna stay here or join Sammy in the motel room?”

“Why does that sound so wrong?” Aaliyah slid over to the open door and used the car to brace herself until her legs started working again. “You sure you don’t want help with Bela?” The question made Dean stop.

“That doesn’t sound half bad. We’ll move your car off this way.”

***

After moving her car, Aaliyah grabbed her bags and headed into the motel room. She put the bags on a bed and stood there. She heard Dean tell Sam not to do or touch anything; just sit in a chair in the middle of the room.

“Hey, Aaliyah,” Dean called to her. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Take a hot shower and relax. Read a book. Read Sam a book.”

Aaliyah sighed as the motel door closed behind Dean. He had a point; she would be fine. Maybe the hot shower would help her somehow. She rooted around a bag and pulled out a change of clothes before darting into the bathroom; the door left partially open. She started the water before stripping off her grimy clothes.

“Aaliyah,” Sam’s voice drifted into the bathroom. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah, just … taking my time. Don’t wanna slip and fall and break something.” Aaliyah stepped into the tub and started washing up. She was about half way through scrubbing the little bar of soap over her body when she heard Sam making noise. “Come on, Sam. You couldn’t give me ten minutes.” She rushed through rinsing off the soap and nearly tripped getting out of the tub. A small panic noise escaped her mouth when a foot slipped from under her, pulling a leg muscle. Relieved that she hadn’t died, Aaliyah reached behind her and turned the water off. “Sammy?” Her hair dripped water onto the bottom of the tub.

Aaliyah slid herself over the tub’s edge and dried herself a little before rushing through putting her clothes on. She swore to herself if anything happened, she’d kill Sam herself. Just when she went to open the door, something told her to stop and wait. The sound of the motel door opening reached her before a pair of voices started up. From what Aaliyah could hear, the two men worked to get Sam into a chair and tied up. She cursed her luck when she remembered that her phone and weapons were out there.

“Hey, there’s someone else here,” one of the voices spoke up.

“Nah, gotta be our friend’s here,” the other replied.

Aaliyah heard footsteps move toward the bathroom and stood just out of the swing range of the door. It opened to reveal a brown haired with a sparse goatee.

“Well, well,” he said. “A friend. Come on out, sweetheart. We won’t bite.” He moved to step into the bathroom.

Aaliyah adjusted her stance and struck the man with a punch to the face. It sent him back a few steps, enough for her to adjust again and charged at him linebacker style. He had managed to recover from the punch and grabbed hold of her shirt.

“Come now, honey,” he said, struggling against Aaliyah’s hold. “No need to put up a fight.”

Aaliyah freed herself from his hold, her shirt slipped off. Part of her was glad to have tossed on a bra. She struck once more. “I’m not your honey or sweetheart.”

“Hey,” the second man called out, stopping the fight. “Can’t you tell she’s a hunter? And a liability? Give back her shirt, then tie her up right here next to our friend.”

Aaliyah snatched her offered shirt and put it on before walking over to the empty chair that had been placed next to Sam. Her mind raced in the attempt of trying to figure out how to get out of the mess when Sam came back around.

“He lives,” the blond haired man said.

Aaliyah shook her head when Sam looked at her.

“Who are you?” he asked. “What …”

The blond snapped his fingers in Sam’s face. “I thought I was sent by Gordon.”

“Who’s that?” Aaliyah asked before gaining a ‘shut up’ expression from the blond.

“If you don’t keep quiet …” he threatened.

“You’d do what? Mmm? Kill me?”

“Nah, I’ll just kill Sam here and leave you tied up here. But I’m not here for that.” The man started pacing. “I’m here because of what you did with that gate.”

“The hell gate?”

“We did all that we could to stop it,” Sam said.

“Lie. You were in on it and what their plan is.”

“We don’t,” Sam protested. “You’re wrong about all of it.”

The blond man stopped pacing and turned his attention to Sam. “Come on, Sam. You must know something. I’d hate to see what could happen to your pretty little friend here.”

Aaliyah narrowed her eyes at the man while Sam remained silent. The man slapped Sam, causing a small noise to catch in Aaliyah’s throat.

“Gordon told me all about your powers,” the man said. “How you’re some psychic freak.”

“No, not anymore,” Sam said. “No visions, no powers, nothing. I …”

“Liar.” The man punched. “Now, no more lies. There’s an army of demons out there pushing at a world on the brink. We’re on deck for the endgame, aren’t we? So, maybe, you can understand why we can’t take chances.” He pulled his gun and aimed it at Aaliyah.

Her heart thumped against her ribs.

“Whoa, hang on a minute,” Sam protested.

“Hey, Kubrik, just ….” the brown hair man started.

“No, you saw what happened, Creedy,” Kubrik interrupted. “Ask yourself, why are we here? Because you saw a picture online? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn’t happen.”

“Look, I can explain …” Sam started up

“Shut up,” Kubrik yelled. “It’s God; leading us here to do his work. It’s destiny.”

Aaliyah closed her eyes as she heard another gun being cocked.

“Nope, just a rabbit’s foot.” The voice sounded familiar.

Aaliyah dared to open her eyes to see Kubrik turning to face Dean. She struggled to free herself from the chair while Dean dealt with Kubrik and Creedy. Her eyes involuntarily rolled when Dean claimed he was Batman. “If you’re Batman, I’m Red Hood.”

Dean replied with a noise as he started to free Sam before moving to her.

She rubbed her wrists as she stood. “Now what?”

Dean pulled out the rabbit’s foot. “We burn it.”

***

Aaliyah made sure her scratch off tickets were secured in a boot before returning to the small camp fire. Burning the rabbit’s foot, along with a few herbs, was the only way to lift the bad luck. She stepped into the light of the fire just as a gun was cocked. “Oh, come on.”

“Oh, who’s this?” a female voice questioned. “A new friend of yours, Winchester? Why don’t you tell Dean here to hand over the rabbit’s foot.”

“Bela,” Aaliyah whispered to herself. “Why don’t you put the gun down? And we can talk this over?”

A shot echoed in the cemetery and a cry sounded.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean asked. “You can’t be going ‘round shooting people?”

“I can’t hit you,” Bela told him. “Besides, it’s a shoulder wound. I can aim. Put the foot on the ground.”

“Alright, take it easy.”

Aaliyah watched Dean start to put the foot down before tossing it at Bela. Aaliyah smirked when the other woman caught it and cursed. “Now whatcha say? Wanna destroy it?”

Bela moved and dropped the foot into the fire. “Thanks. I’m out one and a half million and on the bad side of a psychotic buyer.”

“I’m not feeling a little bit bad about that,” Dean snarked. “How about you two?”

Aaliyah shook her head. “Not one bit.” She kept her eye on Bela as she went over and leaned on the headstone where Dean’s jacket was draped.

“Maybe next time I’ll leave you out to dry,” Bela said.

“Just go away,” Aaliyah half pled, her head tilted to a side. She swore she saw a smirk from Bela.

“Have a nice night, you three.”

“There’s something about her,” Aaliyah said, walking over to Dean as Bela walked away. “I don’t if I should like her or not.”

“There’s nothing about her you shouldn’t like,” Dean said, gathering up his things. “You two good?”

“I’ll live,” Sam assured him.

Aaliyah walked with them toward the cemetery entrance.

“Back to normal, I guess,” Dean said. “No bad luck or good luck. But he-ee-ey, we’re up 46000 dollars. Nearly forgot … the … scratch off…”

Aaliyah caught him searching his jacket out of the corner of her eye to come up empty. She chuckled when a car raced off down the road. “I knew there was something about her I liked.”

“She took off with your portion too,” Dean told her.

“Not really.” Aaliyah hunched down and pulled out all the tickets she had hit in her boots. “I got these back when I still had the foot. At best guess … I got a good half million or so.” She pulled them out of Dean’s reach. “We all get a share, no matter what.”

“Then what?” Sam asked.

Aaliyah shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I need some time to figure things out. Come on. I’ll cash these in.”

#spn fanfic angst death

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letstrysomefanfic · 6 years

Text

You’re Not Missing Me (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request: Song Prompt from @starksparker‘s 4k Writing Challenge!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: heartbreak, mention of death, lots of angst

A/N: I HAVE RETURNED!! And how fitting that the fic that marks that is one of angst. As if yall needed anymore angst. Oh well HAPPY 4K to @starksparker and sorry for finally getting this out hella late. And thank you to @parkthepeter and @rileywrites-parker for beta-ing this!!

Based on You’re Not Missing Me by Chelsea Cutler

Check out this bomb ass moodboard @starksparker made

When I'm out and you're sleeping And I need you on my phone Cause you know that I mean it When I wish that I was Home to hold you But I have to love you through a call And I'm thinking you're not missing me at all

The surrounding chatter became a muffled buzz and the bright, colored lights became a blend of soft, unfocused flashes as the triangle icon stared back at you. You had told yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn’t go down this rabbit hole. You wouldn’t do this to yourself. And yet your thumb lowered--

*beep*

“Hey (Y/N)! I’m sorry I can’t make it tonight but I will totally make it up to you tomorrow! That pizza place on 5th is having that pizza palooza so I was thinking we could go there and get whatever you want and then go to that exhibit at MoMA ‘cause I remember you mentioning it had this thi-- CRAP I uh I gotta go, some idiot’s trying to break into a car, but I’ll callyoulaterokayloveyoubye!”

That last rush of words rang through your ears, and your breath caught in your chest, despite your efforts. Peter’s voice had been regretful at first, but soon tinged with excitement and life. That fleeting message with its own intentions had instead buried itself into your brain as something equivalent to a heartfelt Shakespearean sonnet. You wanted nothing more than to somehow jump into message, as if it somehow was a direct link to the tangible, living dork you still loved.

“(Y/N)!” someone shouted from somewhere else. No, you thought. Let me linger here longer, please, let me see--

“(Y/N)!” Betty’s eyes came into focus in front of you. She tilted her head pointedly. “What’re you listening to?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, pulling your earbuds out. You couldn’t meet her gaze, but she already knew. She barely had to look at the screen.

“(Y/N), we talked about this--”

“I know! I know I shouldn’t...”

Betty handed you a red cup, not pressing further but still watching you carefully. “Come on, Ned finally convinced Michelle to play.”

You shoved your phone in your pocket and exhaled.

I’m doing the best that I can.

But baby these conversations will break me I’m sorry I wear you like crazy Giving you all that I am

“Can we please just not do this right now?” You swallowed, trying to narrow your vision on the book in your lap. Not again, dammit, not again.

“Aw come on, why not?”

“I’m having a really nice day, believe it or not.”

Peter grinned at you, swaying side to side with his hands in his pockets. “I thought I made your day nicer?”

“Not anymore.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, raising his eyebrows.

“Yep, I really don’t need you here doing this right now, so just go away.”

“Really?” Peter repeated, his voice quiet. “You don’t need me?” He knelt down in front of you and your eyes helplessly averted from your book. “Is that why do you still have the necklace?”

You pressed your lips together, and resisted the urge to touch the chain on your neck and instead to shift back to the book. But the letters weren’t sinking in. Why was it so hard to-- “Please stop trying to ignore me, (Y/N). You know it never works.”

You sighed. “Go away, Parker.”

“Aw come on, babe.”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me!” you hissed, lifting your book higher. “You shouldn’t even be here.” The words felt stale as they left your mouth.

“Then why am I?” Your book was lowering, your breathing was becoming irregular, and this was becoming more of a problem. “Why am I here?” he urged softly.

“Please just go.”

“Stop trying to ignore me.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do?” you demanded. Your thoughts ran amuck with everything you wanted to scream at him. Do you have any idea? The questions I’ve had to answer over and over and over? Constantly hearing ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘it gets better’ or seeing all those pitying looks? Do you feel the claw on my stomach everytime I hear your name? The suffocating guilt in my lungs? Do you know?

But he just looked at you forlornly, and all you could manage was a single phrase.

I’m doing the best that I can.

The sheets were soft under your hands that wouldn’t completely stop shaking. It had been months since you’d been in this room.

“Hasn’t changed that much,” you commented.

Peter’s torso swung down from the ceiling, his hair swishing about. “What did you expect?”

You shrugged. “All your clothes are put away, for once.”

“You’re one to talk,” he smirked.

“Even your suit.”

Peter’s smirk fell, but he forced a shrug. “What would you have done with it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think May did with it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is that why you finally came in here? To see if she had gotten rid of--”

“I don’t know,” you snapped. Your head whipped up to the door, instantly worrying if you had been heard from the kitchen.

May only shouted, “Dinner will be ready in five!”

Peter silently flipped back onto the ground. “What else do you miss about this?” he asked, gesturing to the room.

Your nose ached for a smell you had once cringed at, harassed him for, even. “Your stupid, stinky cologne.”

He looked surprised. “I didn’t even notice. If you want, I think some of my sweatshirts might still--”

“Don’t,” you warned.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t tempt me like that.”

“‘Tempt you’? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you scoffed. “You know I can’t keep doing this.”

“So why do you?”

“I don’t--”

“Why do you do this to yourself, (Y/N)?” Peter ran his fingers over the blue sweater that sat on his chair, his eyes studying you.

“I’m not!” you cried. “I’m not the one who keeps interrupting my own thoughts and my dreams and my life!”

“But you are the one who opened the door, who keeps listening to my messages, keeps staying up too late trying to see if I’ll swing by.”

“That’s not--”

“And you keep lying to everyone about me…”

You shot up, the bed squeaking loudly at your sudden absence. “I’m not lying, you’re just making it difficult,” you seethed as you reached for the door, the smell of slightly-burned lasagna overpowering the last of Peter’s scent.

The grass ripped all too willingly under your frustrated tug.

“We should’ve done this more often,” Peter sighed. “I can’t believe we only ever went on one sunny park date…”

You tensed. “Do you mind? I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what, exactly?”

“Ugh, why is it so hard for you to just go?!”

“Because you miss me.”

Your breath hitched. “But you don’t miss me.”

Peter turned towards you. “You don’t know that.”

The harsh and scary truth lodged itself in your throat and shoved your silent sobs down to your already weary stomach.

“Will I ever?” you whispered.

“I don’t know,” his voice was brittle. You found yourself dreading what his next words would be. “You really want me to leave you alone?”

“Please don’t make me answer that.” Truth be told, as much as your recent conversations annoyed you and worried everyone around you, you clung to their reminder of what was, what could have been. It didn’t matter if you said “yes” or “no” because either would result in pain. Pain you didn’t want to continue to face, and pain you had been avoiding since the very beginning.

“Okay, I won’t.” Peter leaned towards you, and your heart beat with anticipation and dread. “But you know what has to happen, (Y/N).” You couldn’t breathe. You could only nod the tears away, against the resounding “NO” that screamed through your veins and caught in your throat. “You have to let me go,” he breathed, and you could see him, out of the corner of your eye, his lips coming closer to his spot on your cheek.

But your cheek felt no kiss. You numbly turned to where you swore the ghost of his voice lingered. The warmth you imagined was gone, and the only life near you were the flowers you had laid on the unweathered headstone that immortalized Peter Parker’s name and youth.

Tag List: @parkthepeter @acciowaffle @ima-smol-acorn @multi-parker

Also gonna tag some mutuals cuz hey it’s been a while: @officialtessaholland @tomsfireheart @imaginexmeintheuniverse @howlingdawn @spideychelle-romanogers

#kavys4kwc #writing challenge #starksparker #peter parker fic #spider-man fic #peter parker angst #spider-man angst #angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spider-man x reader #spider-man x you #original #mine #mcu fic #you're not missing me #ynmm #peter parker imagine #spider-man imagine

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invisibletinkerer · 6 years

Text

Ficlet: Hang on and survive

A missing scene between Gideon and Ford in Bill’s Fearamid.

Length: ~2000 words.

AO3 link.

---

Gideon danced.

His feet ached, his heart beat like a sledgehammer and his arms felt like lead, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop. Bill wasn’t even in the throne room any longer, but Gideon’s body had a mind of its own, obeying the demon’s commands. It was slowly starting to dawn on him that Bill might have been literal about telling him to dance for all eternity.

He’d scream, but for once the last thing he wanted was attention. The dance was embarrassing enough without the walking nightmares actively laughing at him. It was like a curse out of a fairy tale, painful and humiliating and completely and utterly unheroic. Why did he have to listen to Dipper Pines today of all days? As if standing up to a chaos god would make any difference at all, or would allow him to go down like some kind of hero worthy of love and adoration. It certainly didn’t. This was nothing but ridiculous pathetic forced cuteness with no end in sight. He’d rather die than have Mabel see him like this. In fact, he’d rather die than dance like this forever even if Mabel didn’t see him, but he didn’t seem to have any choice in the matter.

He flinched – without missing a beat in the dance – when the giant golden triangle reentered the room from a side passage, though Bill didn’t even glance in the direction of Gideon’s cage. The demon was holding the end of a glowing blue chain in one hand, the other hand waving for his henchmaniacs. The throne made from petrified humans hid whatever was on the other end of the chain from Gideon’s view, but the way Bill held it made it seem like a leash.

“Hey guys!” Bill said, his unearthly voice as chipper as ever. “My old friend here has the key to unlock the full armageddon on the universe, but he’s reluctant to give it to me. What do you say we all get creative on him?”

As he was talking, he pulled the prisoner into view. It was a greying man in a beige trenchcoat, shackled by the neck and wrists by the glowing chain. As Bill pulled on the chain again the man stumbled, his left leg folding under him, and he was unceremoniously dragged along the floor for the last few feet. Gideon couldn’t see his face, but he thought he could hear his labored breathing even over his own.

Bill turned around and looked down on his victim. “Think about it, IQ,” he said. “It’s not too late to change your mind.” He only waited a couple of seconds for a reply, and when none came he dissolved the chain and threw the man up on the seat of the throne. Gideon could clearly hear the strangled cry of pain as he landed on the uneven stone. A moment later the chain reappeared, this time only cuffing his left ankle, like an afterthought to keep him from escaping.

The man groaned and curled up on himself, but Bill paid him no more heed as he left to talk to his demon henchmen some distance away. Gideon went completely ignored, but even so, he was still dancing. He wished there was something he could say to the other prisoner, but he couldn’t think of a single thing. He remained quiet and watched.

The man below took a deep breath and struggled to get up to a sitting position, like he was trying to salvage some small part of his dignity. He ended up resting his forehead against his knees. It was obvious from the way he moved that he’d been badly manhandled already, and it made Gideon uneasy. This person must have annoyed Bill even worse than Gideon himself had managed to do. He wasn’t sure if it was sympathy or comiseration or what it was, but Gideon somehow felt bad for him.

Eventually the man raised his eyes towards the sound of Gideon’s tapping feet, revealing a dirty red turtleneck sweater, cracked glasses, and a bruised but very familiar face.

Gideon gasped. He didn’t know why he’d expected it to be a stranger – perhaps because he didn’t recognize the trenchcoat – but seeing this particular face right now was a chock.

“Stanford Pines!?”

Stanford blinked as if trying to get Gideon into focus. “Yes, that’s me.” Something in the cadence of his voice seemed wrong, but perhaps that was just the result of the way he’d been treated.

“What does Bill even want with you, old man!?” How deep down the rabbit hole did Stanford Pines’ secrets go? Gideon hated Stanford Pines, but right now he could barely remember why. When you’re prisoners of an insane chaos god bound to torment you both for the rest of eternity, everything else suddenly seemed petty. He was the closest to a friend Gideon might ever see again.

Stanford winced, then sighed. “Weirdmageddon has been deterred by a natural weirdness barrier around the Gravity Falls valley,” he explained. “I know how to disable the barrier, but I won’t let Bill cause the end of our universe if I can help it.” He grimaced and added with more than a hint of bitterness, “He likes me for my brain.”

“Dang.” Now that sounded positively heroic, even if it filled Gideon with dread. Bill could do anything. Anything at all. Stanford was just an old man, he wouldn’t stand a chance. If Gideon’s body hadn’t been hijacked by a dancing curse he might have tried to think of something wittier to say, but right now he was too exhausted to be anything but completely honest, and if Stanford’s uncharacteristically straightforward answer was any indication, he felt the same way. “I always suspected you were more clever than you looked, with the way you outsmarted me last time and all, but I never wanted—”

Stanford’s face shot back up towards Gideon. “Wait, what?”

The old man’s confused tone made Gideon shut up. “Wait what, what?” he replied, flummoxed.

Stanford squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. “Alright, I see what’s going on here. You must be mistaking me for my brother. That only makes sense.” He held up his right hand, making Gideon aware that something was off with it – and not just the fact that several of his fingers were discolored purplish red and bent in unnatural directions. It looked hideously painful. “The most obvious difference between us is the number of fingers.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. He’d only seen a six-fingered hand once before. “But... Does that mean... You’re the author of the journals? Are you?”

The man who might or might not be Stanford Pines smiled weakly. “You’ve read my work, too?”

“I certainly did! I read it backwards and forwards and used it for all sorts of things. Honestly I don’t think much good ever came of it even if I loved it at the time.” He stopped to breathe, then continued because he needed to say this, and if this man really wrote the journals he might even be able to understand. “I summoned Bill, too, twice, if you’ll believe it. I think… I think this whole apocalypse business might actually be my fault.” There. He’d put words to it. It was the nagging guilt that had been the final drop making him turn against Bill, and see where that had gotten him.

The man sighed again. “I’m afraid that honor belongs to me and no one else. And it seems my only other legacy in Gravity Falls has been the corruption of children. I’m sorry – I should never have allowed those journals to be found.”

Fair enough, probably. It still didn’t seem quite right. “He just seemed so reasonable. In the beginning. It all seemed to make sense at the time! I guess he tricked me.”

“You and me both, child.”

They were silent for several heartbeats, the only sound being Gideon’s shuffling dance moves and panting breath and a few raspy coughs from the man below. “Where did you come from, anyway?” Gideon asked. “I never knew Stanford Pines had a twin brother.”

Stanford’s twin scoffed. “I’m Stanford Pines.”

“If you’re Stanford, then who’s the old man with the fez?”

“He’s my twin brother, Stanley. He took my name and identity when I fell into an interdimensional portal thirty years ago.”

“Oh.” Gideon grimaced. He didn’t know what else to say. It occurred to him that Stanford – Stanley? – might have been a conman out of his league after all.

“Exactly.” Stanford raised his broken hand again in Gideon’s general direction. “Greetings, my name is Stanford Pines. Please call me Ford. I’d shake your hand, but I don’t think either of us can reach that far right now. What’s your name?”

“I’m Gideon. Gideon Gleeful.”

“Nice to meet you, Gideon.”

It didn’t even matter who he was, did it? This “Ford” might have six fingers and a might have written the journals and might be a complete stranger, but he was still the closest Gideon had to a friend right now. “It’s not nice!” he blurted. “Bill is dang near omnipotent and we both know he’s going to hurt you for that information and look at me, he put a freaking curse on me to dance cute dances for all of eternity!”

“Yes, I noticed. I wasn’t going to mention it.”

Gideon wasn’t sure if that was polite or insufferable. “Everything is horrible! How can you be so calm?”

Ford lowered his eyes. His shoulders sank visibly, but it was several moments before he said anything. “I’m not,” he finally admitted. “I’ve been through some bad things before, but... Bill means business this time.” He flexed his broken hand slightly, shuddering. “I can take it, though. I have to.”

“You could just give him what he wants,” Gideon found himself saying. “We’re all done for anyway! He could torture you for all eternity, and maybe it’s better to just let everything end. You know?”

Ford’s shoulders shook, but Gideon couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Possibly both. “No,” he managed. “Don’t you think I’ve considered that? But it’s never better to give up.” He took a deep breath and looked up at Gideon again. “Sometimes all you can do is to hang on and survive and bide your time until a chance opens up. I’m not about to let the world end unless I’m absolutely certain all hope is lost.”

“But what hope could there possibly—?”

Ford glanced over to the other end of the room. Gideon followed his gaze and noticed that the demons seemed to be wrapping up their conversation. Bill was turning his eye back towards the throne. They were running out of time.

“I’m sorry you’ll have to see this,” Ford said. His voice was shaking slightly.

Bill was already towering over them. Gideon swallowed. His arms were still waving around, but he could barely feel them anymore.

“Hey Fordsy,” Bill said. “I’m giving you one last chance to let me in your mind with no harm no foul. What do you say? Give me a tour for old times’ sake?”

“No! Never.”

“Stubborn as always, Sixer. Let’s see how long you’ll keep that up. We have forever here – time is dead and meaning has no meaning, remember?”

With that, more glowing chains appeared and attached themselves to Ford’s ankles, wrists and neck, lifting him spread-eagled into the air. For a moment he glared defiantly at Bill, who glared back with as close to a smirk as a triangle with a single eye and no other facial features could manage. Then the demons got to work.

Gideon would have looked away if he could. If his limbs had been his own, he would have curled up in the far end of the cage, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut, and he knew the screams still would have pierced his heart and mind.

They tore Ford’s body to shreds. They put it back together only to do it again in a different way. Bones broken, limbs pulled out of joints, blood and guts spilling from open wounds. Fire and electrical currents on unprotected skin. Time and again Bill would take a break and ask in a reasonable tone if Ford wanted it to end.

He refused every time.

Gideon danced.

#gravity falls #fanfic #gideon gleeful #stanford pines #missing scene #cw torture #it writes

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