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internalsealpanic · 3 years

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Love Through the Ages (Tim Drake)

Summary: Love like baggage needs to be declared.

a/n: This is part two of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots. Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans. I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself.

Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist.

You watch the rusty green of the warehouse wall disappear behind a spray of orange paint. There is nothing more satisfying than watching paint make old things new.

A whistle interrupts your reverie, making the can slip from your hand. You swear, the harsh syllables echoing in the empty air. The can bounces down the scaffold and lands in someone’s hands. Tim’s face gets sprayed with a mist of orange. He makes a noise and rubs at his face. You bark out a laugh and he grimaces at you. The begrudging fondness obvious on his face.

He waves at you, eyes still stinging from the paint. Giddiness flourishes in your chest. “I knew I’d find you here!” He shouts in a dialect of Mandarin that you hadn’t heard in ages.

It takes you a moment to understand him. You’re honestly extremely rusty. It takes you another moment to realize that it made no sense for him to find you. “How?” You shout back in Romanian.

Tim shakes his head, throwing his hand over his shoulder. “Open canvas.”

You snort, looking down at him. Tim’s breath catches as he stares up at you, your smile. You’re haloed by sunlight. You look like an angel descending from heaven.

Tim’s forced to pick up his jaw when he hears your voice again. You’re tapping your watch. The words are lost to him.

“What?!”

You shake your head, strands of hair coming loose from behind your ear. “I asked...” You shout in a coarse frawl. “... Isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?”

It was.

He was only 30 minutes early. No big deal.

He shrugs. “I just wanted to watch you paint.” He says, trailing off. Oh God, Tim thinks. Does he sound lovesick? Is Cassie right? He pushes the thoughts down, opting to look at the building instead. On the side of the building was an immaculate portrait of the Red Hood rendered like a saint, haloed in golden light and surrounded by your orange marigolds. It would look at home in any grand cathedral. Your talents never ceased to amaze him.

“Should I ask why you’re defacing a building?”

You turn back to the building picking up a can of yellow paint. You tilt your head. “It’s a massive improvement, yes?”

Tim looks around. The pavement is littered with wet trash mixed. The buildings were rusted. Everything else is covered in grime. “You’re rude… but not wrong.”

You preen, electing to ignore the first half. You turn back to your canvas before Tim can get another word in. He knows he’s lost you.

“So, why *the* Red Hood?”

You look away from the portrait, setting the can of yellow spray paint. It sprays your sweatshirt and Tim laughs. You stick your tongue out at his face flushing. You liked this sweatshirt. He gave it to you the last time you had meandered into Gotham. “Why not? We’re in the Bowery. He’s like a saint here.” You snip, switching to Russian. Ok, that made sense. You toss your sweatshirt into Tim’s face. The fabric is lousy with the smell of paint and of 5-hour energy drinks. It was an improvement over the pungent odor of garbage.

He tries to rub the orange paint on his face away before he tucks your sweatshirt beneath his arm. You’re still looking down at him, wry amusement on your face. “I’ll paint your beloved Red Robin when I get to China Town. Heard he was quite popular in those parts.”

Tim’s heart flutters. He stutters out his next question. “Why are you using spray paint for this type of illustration?”

“Kon said I couldn’t do it.”

Tim snickers, “As if Kon could tell the difference.”

You frown only realizing your mistake. You curse under your breath. Tim doesn’t stop laughing at you. “Shut up!” You snarl.

Tim dodges the next paint can you throw but the next one hits him square in the face. You grin triumphantly. Tim raises a middle finger at you and you giggle in response. You feel bad, seeing him wince in pain. You’d buy him apology tea later but for now, you clasp your hands and call out to him sweetly. “Sorry, Timmers!”

Tim, equally as mature and well aware that you’re only half sorry, blows out a breath, muttering something colorful before shouting back: “we should get going if we wanna eat out after looting the museum.”

At that, you launch yourself off the scaffolding, your body feeling weightless as it falls. Tim drops your sweatshirt as he holds his arms out to catch you. He catches you easily. You two spin as you wrap your arms around him.

“You are certifiably insane.” He laughs. His nose smooshed against yours.

“And so are you.” You snort, hugging him.

He hugs you back. You hum so softly into his hair that Tim wouldn’t be able to tell it from a breath if he were human. Tim holds you close, hugging your waist tightly. He doesn’t really want to let you go. You don’t either. You and Tim stand there for a bit when you hear his cell beep.

“Why does your phone sound like a pager?”

“Because Babs told me how to.”

“That literally explains nothing.”

“I’m not taking crap from the gremlin who had ‘Baby Shark’ as their ringtone for 12 months. WILLINGLY.”

You pout at him, your face so close to his. Tim’s only half paying attention to your defense. To be fair, it basically boiled down to ‘it isn’t that bad’ and ‘Bart’s ringtone is worse’.

After a short shopping trip and a cab ride later, you arrive at the museum in fresh clothes and less paint on his face for Tim.

“All the World’s a Stage. They botched it! The nerve! The barbarity of it all. It's just like when they botched ‘Words with Friends’ or ‘In Ice We Trust’ or even ‘Tomcat’. That last one was pretty much gift wrapped for them!” You say throwing up your hands nearly hitting Tim and whatever poor bastard was unlucky enough to be behind you.

“For someone who isn't invested in modern media, you're getting fired up.” Tim chuckles, eyes flickering behind you. You had managed to miss the people behind you but you do have a rather conspicuous space behind you.

“They had such good material to work with” you say, gesticulating wildly. “And- and they butchered it.”

“You need a 5 minute breather?” Tim asks, resting a hand on your back.

“Shut up,” you laugh.

Tim grins at you as if he had no idea what this ultimate betrayal feels like.

Determined to prove him wrong, you say : “C'mon, Timothy, you ranted like this when they botched the star thingy.”

“It’s Star Wars, you heathen.”

“Star. Thingy.” You repeat, crossing your arms.

Tim squints at you. You know he’s not gonna blow up at you but somehow that’s scarier.

“You can pay for your own cab later.” He grumbles.

“Star. Thing-Y.”

Tim turns to leave. This always worked. Always without fail, you grab at his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Tim tries not to smile.

“Fine.”

“Was that so hard?”

“It was excruciating actually.”

“You're being dramatic.” He says, showing the woman behind the ticket counter your passes.

“Excuse me, I left all my drama in the Renaissance.”

“Oh really?”

“Ok not really but admit that both Andromeda and Stars, Forgive Me have better writing.“ You bite out.

“I- That’s unfair,” he says. You raise your brow in response.

“...”

“Fine,” he sighs. “But admit that Andromeda should have been named ‘Space Whores’.”

You squint at him then smile. “Oh abso-posi-tute-ly.”

“Have you seen this dirty old hockey mask?” You ask, tapping the glass as if the hockey mask would react if you just agitate it enough.

“What is that?” Tim asks, looking over your shoulder. His brows crinkles when he sees the mask. “How is that romantic?”

You hum. “Ask the curator?” You suggest, looking around. He was usually out and about. He could never sit still even if he tried. You lean down narrowing your eyes at the plaque. “Says here some dude called Jason terrorized 3 kids over summer.”

“That’s very romantic for our Jay to do.” Tim says, crossing his arms and switching to Cantonese. It was a weird habit but you knew why. Apparently for all Jason’s skill in languages he somehow could not get a handle on Cantonese.

“Not that Jason.” You say, smirking.

“You sure?” Tim asks, leaning closer to you.

You snicker, “As in character as that would be...”

“True,” he says, edging closer and closer to you. You rock on your heels nervously at the proximity. “It’s a shame, I thought there would be a machete to match too…” You can feel Tim’s breath on your cheek.

“OH LOOK AT THIS.” You say twisting away and pointing to a black and white photo. Tim’s hands leave his sides to grab for you, to pin you to his chest, but he has enough self control not to. Instead, he follows you.

“It’s just a man and a woman in business suits. Yanno something you can see in any metropolitan city.”

“Yes but,” you say, tracing a nonsensical pattern into the air, “I’ve heard a story about this, they were both extremely rich and heads of their companies, went from enemies to lovers - my all time favourite.”

Tim looks closer at the photo of the man and woman with their backs to the camera just holding hands along the NYC sidewalk. It’s cute. “I thought your favorite was lovers to enemies.”

“Well of course, it is! The drama, the absolute tragedy. It’s better than any trope in existence. But I love that this is just black and white. You don’t need anything else to indicate they’re in love with each other.”

Tim is all too tempted to point out that that likely wasn’t intentional, that it was a limitation of the time, but the look in your eyes robbed him of his breath, so he swallowed his thoughts.

Your eyes rove over the room frantically in search of something.

“So is there any reason you wanted to go to this exhibit instead of watching lavalantula 10 in theaters?” Tim says, tapping another case.

You turn to look at him, shock etched into your features.“10? We've seen lavalantula 1 through 9 in theaters? Why did I agree to that?”

“Cus you love me?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Probably not.”

Tim gives you a hurt look.

You scowl at him. You have no idea why everyone thinks he’s the nice Wayne sibling. He is a manipulative little shit who plays you like a fiddle. And yet here you are falling for it. An absolute buffoon.

You grumble an apology under your breath before continuing. “This is more cultural Timmers and lord knows we need more culture.” You wave sarcastically.

“I think we've lived enough culture.”

“it cannot hurt to experience more Tim,” you snort. He rolls his eyes. You grab onto his arm and look up at him bright eyed. Two can play it at that game. “Please Tim....”

He scowls at you. “Fine-”

“Yes!”

“-but you owe me a movie marathon.”

“Fine. Fine,” you nod, “just don’t pick something dumb.”

“I just got the new star trek box collection.” He beams.

“You could just shove me into a grave.” You sigh dramatically.

Tim grins. “The Renaissance called-”

“Oh fuck you, Grackle.”

He snorts and you hate that you fall in love with him more every time he laughs.

You cross your arms giving him a hard look. “Fine but we have to have an intermission of my choice.” You say, offering a hand.

“Deal.” He says, shaking your outstretched hand.

“Great, you've just agreed to watch the Great British Baking Show with me.” You say smug.

Tim curses himself.

"Are you still looking for that one painting?"

You tip your body back to look at him, your eyes wide and startled. It takes no time at all for them to shift to their usual angry shape. "Yes," you say quietly. It's Tim’s turn to be startled. Your hands curl into a fist. "It wasn't done and those bastards took it."

Tim reaches out to put his hand on your shoulder.

You cast your hands up to the sky dramatically. "The barbarity of it all!"

Tim smiles, letting his hand fall to his side. You would be ok.

You two walk on as Tim rants about StarGate could have had a bigger fanbase if it hadn’t excluded so many people. You add StarGate to the list of things to not remember.

You stop.

Your heart presses a bruise in your throat.

Framed in wood laden in ivy and marigolds is a painting that was painfully familiar. Even unwashed, you can still see the bright reds of rose petals, the wild greens of the women’s skirts, the brilliant oranges of marigolds, and the blinding whites of cobble stones. The image was a practice in entropy made into perfection. The chaos of Valentine's day in a small town square reduced and captured in an infinitesimal moment.

Damian told you that people had started calling them Warsaw’s Faceless Sweethearts. You hated that. A part of you wants to scream. You want to tell them that this wasn’t for them. This painting was made for one person and one person only.

You’ve been staring at it too long. Tim looks at you. You’ve known him too long to not know that he’s worried. That he’s feeling that stupid surge of protectiveness he always does when you go quiet. It’s in the cautious way he reaches out to you, slow and steady the way you approach a spooked animal. You want to lash out at him but he’s your Tim. Besides, too much of your mind is trapped in the painting, in the white gazebo, in between the couple who’s stuck in the moment before a kiss.

Tim stands closer to you, his fingers lacing into yours with centuries worth or practice. He looks at the painting. “This painting looks familiar.” Tim says for the lack of anything better to say. It was yours. He knew that with only a few seconds of looking.

“I… I don’t think so,” you say clumsily, “that’s definitely not the painting I’ve been looking for. Yup that one looks completely finished. Yup definitely.” You tug at Tim’s arm.

He gives you a look, staying perfectly in place, before turning back to the painting. His gaze draws low. In a glass case sits scraps of paper lined with charcoal. It takes an embarrassingly long time for Tim to realize that they’re sketches the artist did. Tim recognized the baker, the blacksmith, the seamstress, and even the constable. Most glaring of all he recognizes your marigolds. His eyes drift to the sketches of the couple in the gazebo. They were numerous, haphazard and unsatisfied. You were clearly frustrated with the groom’s face. Tim wonders who the poor guy could be.

In the corner of the page in the center, he sees it. “Wait… is that me?”

“NO!”

“Is that you?” He asks, pointing to the figure next to his. In the sketch, your lips are brushing against his. Tim’s lip tingles trying to replicate the sensation.

You’re frozen stiff. You try to pull your hand away. You want to bury your face in them. Scratch that, you wanna be buried six feet under. Tim doesn’t let go of your hand.

“That’s the umbrella you lost back in London.”

“I lost a lot in London, Timmy.”

“Well...” Ok. Yeah, you did. Hence why he can’t get you to London even with the promise of letting you ‘improve’ Buckingham palace. But that isn’t the point. “(Y/n), this is gorgeous.” He says, turning to you. You look at him stunned and scared. He squeezes your hand.

You shake yourself out of his grip. Tim lets you. He knows when to back down.

You step forward leaning on the rope separating you from your work. “I told you it wasn't finished.” You say, glaring at the painting as if willing the colors to move.

“What happened?” He asks, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You bump your shoulder against his. “Warsaw.”

“I don’t follow.”

“That little town in Warsaw. It was kind of hard to finish the painting when soldiers were setting fires to houses. Ok, they didn’t do it directly but there was smoke.”

“Yeah kind of.” Tim agrees, smiling sadly. He looks back at the painting. “I want to keep it.”

“What?” You blink not quite following the shift in conversation.

“Darling, I think we should have it. It’s ours after all.” Tim says holding your hand in his. Your mind is bouncing between too many things. He called you darling. He’s holding your hand. He’s smiling so sweetly at you. You’re addicted to that look in his eyes, pure unadulterated adoration.

You cover your face with your free hand, feeling the smile on your face go uncomfortable wide. You feel something on your forehead, a kiss like a raindrop. It comes again and you feel like you’re going to collapse.

“It’s yours..” He trails off hesitantly. “..if..” You look up at Tim, waiting with bated breath. Tim squeezes your hands. “...if you’ll be mine. ”

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz, @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagines #vampire au

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queenmylovely · 5 years

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Just My Luck; Part 8

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. This is John’s first day in Tournai with Reader. Fluff and spicy times happen.

Warnings: smut in the middle (18+), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cussing (I’ll be indicating smut with *** both before and after)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: I honestly can’t believe I’m already posting part 8! It’s so exciting! I really like this chapter, there’s a lot of fluffy stuff to it. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and like/reblog if you enjoyed it! (Here’s a pic of him being a Grade-A cutie)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14 (Epilogue), Masterlist

🍀🍀🍀

You were waiting at the gate John had told you, standing in plain view with a sign that just said, “Johnny.” You figured it would be cute to replicate how he had greeted you but didn’t want anyone recognizing his name as part of Queen, so you stuck to his nickname.

You had gotten there early and ended up standing and waiting for about an hour before you saw the plane pull up to the gate. You knew that John would be sitting towards the front of the plane (as an up-and-coming rockstar he got to fly first class), which meant he would be one of the first ones off the plane.

John knew you knew this but wanted to surprise you anyway. He managed to sneak in the middle of a big group of large men, seemingly shady business men, who had been in first class with him, and got past you in the gate.

All of the sudden, you felt hands on your waist and a head next to yours and you jumped, slightly yelling, “Holy shit! Johnny, you scared me so bad!” as you turned around to face him.

He kept his hands on your waist as he started laughing, both at your reaction and the reaction of those around you at your outburst, “You’ve got quite the mouth, love, people are staring.”

You just rolled your eyes and lifted your arms to his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. He hummed contentedly in your hair as you told him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, y/n,” he replied, gently releasing you. But it seemed he couldn’t help himself as he immediately grabbed you again and kissed you. It was a little more chaste than any of your previous ones, but that didn’t stop it from lighting your body on fire. His soft lips and hands would always have a tremendous effect on you.

After he pulled away, you cleared your throat and announced, “The exit’s this way, unless we need to get anything else?”

“Nope, all set,” he replied cheerily. You led him out of the airport and to the train you had now taken three times. On the way, you pointed out all the little landmarks you knew and he listened intently. The train was quite crowded that day and the two of you had to stand next to the door. He held onto the pole with both hands, essentially enveloping you so all you had to do was lean your back against his chest, freeing up both hands to point things out. It was a little difficult to stay on point when the warmth of his chest kept distracting you.

All too soon, your stop came up and you had to disentangle yourselves from each other. John kept one hand in yours, though, as you walked. It was a short walk from the stop to your apartment, and one that you spent making sure everything was going according to plan.

“Okay, so you’re here until the 14th, and you fly out that afternoon?”

“As long as you can put up with me for that long,” John joked.

“Here’s hoping,” you teased back, earning a big smile. “So, Eileen, my roommate, will be here for most of the week, but her training is in a different city, so some nights she’ll be staying with a friend out there.”

“Okay,” he replied.

“And my training is every week day from 10:00-12:00 and 1:00-3:00. So, we can have breakfast and get lunch on those days if you want, and I’ll be free all afternoon and evening. You sure that you’ll be okay while I’m gone?” you asked worriedly.

“Yes, I’ll be absolutely fine, y/n. You were fine when I went to the studio and left you alone, don’t worry so much,” he chuckled.

“You’re one to talk,” you reminded him good-naturedly of his near-panic when he didn’t know where you were, causing him to look away sheepishly. You squeezed his hand to coax him to look at you and lifted the back of your free hand to brush against the red of his cheek. “I did tell you how adorable I found that, didn’t I?” you questioned.

“Not in so many words. You may have kissed me on the cheek though, I don’t quite remember,” he replied with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Oh, then I’ll have to refresh your memory,” you quipped back, going on your tiptoes to press a sweet kiss to his cheek. With that, you realized that you had reached the apartment and announced such to him.

Unlocking the front door to the street and then leading him to the elevator, you pressed your floor number and leaned against the side panel, watching him as the elevator started going up. He was looking at the numbers changing and you enjoyed just taking in his peaceful face. As the elevator beeped to signal your floor and the doors started opening, he looked at you, catching you staring. You didn’t look away, though, and the two of you just gazed into each others eyes until the elevator doors started closing again and John had to throw his arm out to keep them open. You giggled at the happenstance, but didn’t miss the way John’s eyes had slowly darkened as your eyes stayed focused on each other. Recognizing that in him, you felt a mixture of heat and desire in your body that didn’t completely go away as you headed to your apartment.

Reaching the door, you lifted your keys and unlocked it, pushing it open and walking in. You gestured grandly with your arm and said, “Here is my humble abode!”

John peered around and smiled at you, seemingly charmed with the small apartment and the way Eileen and you had decorated it. Although it was pretty minimal, the two of you had done what you could to make it feel like home.

You decided to give him a little tour, taking him through to the kitchen, pointing out Eileen’s bedroom, the bathroom, showing him your bedroom, and ending back where you started in the living room.

As you finished, he placed his bag next to the couch and asked, “So, I’ll be staying on the couch again…?”

You shifted a little next to him, feeling a little bit embarrassed to say what you had to say next. “Umm, actually, I was thinking that you could just share my bed; I mean, we managed to share yours pretty comfortably for one night, and our couch is even smaller than yours, and then Eileen wouldn’t have to worry about waking you up or anything in the morning--”

“That sounds perfect, y/n,” John said, looking into your eyes with that same darkening look as in the elevator and you felt heat rising to your cheeks as you gulped and looked him in the eyes. The two of you starting slowly moving closer and your faces were inches apart when you heard the key in the lock and stopped. Realizing Eileen was about to walk in, you practically jumped away from John. Then you realized you would have to introduce them so you grabbed his hand and pulled him across the living room closer to the door just as Eileen was closing it behind her. Luckily, she hadn’t seen your crazed movements so only John was giving you a mix of a confused and amused look.

As she turned around, you smiled and dropped John’s hand so you could walk forward and give her a quick kiss on the cheek, “Eileen! I’m glad you’re back, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You motioned for John to step forward and then said, “Eileen, this is my pen pal turned real-life friend, John, and John, this is my roommate, Eileen.”

They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

“I like your band’s music,” Eileen told John, smiling genuinely.

“Oh, thank you, I’m glad,” John said, finding her calm way of expressing it refreshing to the way he was used to fans reacting.

Eileen switched to French so she could speak more easily and let you you know that she had dinner with a friend that night so she had to get ready and leave. After expressing again that it was nice to meet John, she headed to her room and you explained what she had said.

“So, that means it will be just the two of us for dinner,” you finished your explanation.

“That works for me,” John replied.

“Let’s get you set up in my room,” you told him, prompting him to pick his bag up again and follow you back to your room. You had cleared off a bench at the end of your bed so he could use it as a suitcase stand and that’s where he put his things.

“Is there a plan for dinner?” he inquired, “Just so I know what to wear.”

You laughed and said, “There’s a little restaurant in a square not five minutes from here that’s one of my favorites. What you’re wearing will be absolutely fine, Johnny.”

“Good, cause I have just about exactly the number of clothes for the days I’m here packed and didn’t want to have to wear something twice,” he admitted, causing the both of you to laugh again.

You sat on your bed to rest for a second, it was still about an hour before you would leave for dinner, and patted the spot next to you for John to sit down. He did, sitting so your thighs were pressed again each other. Leaning back, he put one arm on the bed behind your back to support his weight, causing his body to shift towards you.

To fill the silence, you asked him about the boys and he told you of his departure and Roger’s antics, leaving out the part about him being in love with you. When he was done, he asked you about teaching but soon his focus began to drift from listening to your answer. Being this close to you was intoxicating. He could smell what he assumed was your perfume, maybe your shampoo that smelled like vanilla and spice. Feeling your breath hitting his face and neck whenever you turned to face him more. The heat from your thigh against his was almost overwhelming and slowly, he began to drift towards you, remembering the moments you had shared earlier in the day that seemed to be precursors to this one.

Meanwhile, you had been speaking rather passionately about teaching. You loved your students especially this time around. And you were glad to find out that most of them would be continuing into your class in a week. Although training would keep you from John, you were excited to learn new techniques and develop new skills. You hadn’t noticed his closeness or that his attention had shifted from the words you were saying to the lips that were forming them. That is, until you turned to gage his reaction to what you said and felt your nose brush against his. The chuckle that was rising in your throat at the action quickly died when you saw the way he was looking at you. He was staring at you, pupils blown, flickering between your lips and eyes. Noticing the look on his face made your tongue dart out to wet your bottom lip. In reaction, John made a sound of distress and his brows furrowed slightly.

That was all it took for you to close the barely there distance between you. It felt like someone had lit a fuse in you when you first saw each other that day and this kiss was finally the explosion.

***

The two of you kissed each other so fiercely it got a little messy with teeth scraping and wet marks on chins and cheeks. John reached for your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor then immediately doing the same with his own. As he did, you removed your bra, pants, and underwear.

You undid his belt as soon as his arms were out of the way, and deciding that this time you wanted a taste, pushed him to laying down and quickly pulled off his jeans. Once he was only in his boxer-briefs, you began to take your time. Making your way from his neck to his abdomen, you kissed, sucked, and licked your way down. You made a pit-stop to lick the dips of his collarbones and then sucked hickies along his sternum. He huffed and sighed, trying to get you to move along, but he couldn’t stop the way his body rose up into your touch. Granting him just the littlest bit of mercy, you kissed down the center of his stomach a little quicker, coming upon the waistband to his underwear and snapping it against him with your teeth. You the took the elastic in your hands and pulled them all the way off, his completely hard dick slapping against his stomach when you did.

You could tell that John just wanted you to get on with it, but the sight of the perfect skin of his hips was too good to pass up. Straddling only his left leg, you leaned down to leave a prominent love bite right on the swell of his iliac crest. Kissing your way to the other side, you shifted your hips so your legs were in between his and stopped there. John thought you were finally about to touch him, but your lips stopped right at the base of his cock and he groaned, making you look up at him.

When you made eye contact he let out the smallest, “Please,” that made heat rush straight to the apex of your thighs. Deciding that enough was enough, you moved only to kiss the other side of his hip before grabbing his dick and beginning to stroke him. He began breathing heavier, letting out little sighs as you jerked him. Throwing back his head from the pleasure of finally being touched, he couldn’t see it when you moved your head next to his cock and was unprepared when you took the tip into your mouth. His head shot forward, eyes wide open and though so far, he had been holding back from trying to guide you or urge you on any faster, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or change your mind about your actions, this time he could not help himself as he placed his hands in your hair and pushed you further down.

Though you definitely liked teasing him and having control over his pleasure, you had to admit that him taking charge brought a whole new wave of arousal on. Hollowing your cheeks and sucking down his shaft, you bobbed up and down with the speed that he was setting for you with his hands.

Deciding he needed a little more, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock as you sucked, causing his hips to buck up into your mouth.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that--oh,” John moaned as you continued the motion over and over on him.

You could tell he was getting close as his hands tightened in your hair and his hips began almost fucking your mouth. You had just reached your hand to scratch down his stomach when he pulled you off quickly, leaving you to look at him with your mouth wide open.

“Okay, okay, just need- I just still want to um, you know…” John trailed off, still gaining his breath and not wanting to sound too crass.

“Fuck me, John,” you said calmly even as your breathing was evening out.

“Wh-what?”

“Fuck. Me. I need you, right now,” you repeated, climbing on top of him fully, starting to grind your folds on top of his dick, causing the both of you to shudder.

He looked at you with his eyes wide and blown with lust and nodded frantically. You stopped moving and let him guide himself into you. He slid in easily because of how slick sucking his dick had made both him and you.

“Oh, you’re so wet,” John mumbled as he stilled about halfway, letting you adjust. You didn’t need the time and just wanted him completely in you, so you dropped down the rest of the way so he bottomed out inside of you, causing both of you to groan at the feeling.

You started moving on top of him, bouncing and grinding to find the rhythm that made you gasp with every move. When you found that rhythm, he joined you, pushing up into you not slowly, but carefully and with purpose, making each thrust count. It wasn’t long before he was nearing his orgasm again and you felt yours begin to build.

Wanting you to catch up, he leaned forward to start sucking on your breasts. He was switching between biting and sucking each nipple when he reached his left hand in between you to rub at your clit.

The mixture of his teeth on your nipples and the up-down motion of his finger on your clit caused your walls to start clenching and you panted, “Yes, Johnny, I’m so close, keep doing that, keep doing that!”

He kept up his ministrations which in turn caused you to start moving your hips faster, pushing him nearer his climax. As his hips started stuttering, he reached his free hand up to angle your head to look at him. He was nibbling at your breasts, making a ton of little marks all over them, despite the fact that they were hitting his face with every movement of your hips. The hunger in his eyes and speed of his fingers caused you to moan out and with a final hard bite to a nipple, you were lifted to your climax. You gasped and moaned, still maintaining perfect eye contact with him as he continued thrusting into you and fingering your clit to prolong your orgasm.

He removed his mouth from your breasts and pulled your mouth to his. Kissing him with as much passion as you could muster in your orgasmic-haze, you lifted your hands from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. Feeling so close, he spanked you sharply, causing you to whimper in his mouth and pull on his hair. This is what sent him over the edge, pulling out and cumming over your thighs and stomach as he cried out into your open mouth.

As he came down, you held him close to you, pushing his hair from his face and kissing his cheeks, forehead, and nose. Once he had gained his breath, you rolled off of him, a little exhausted yourself. He got up and poked his head out of your room before making a mad dash to the bathroom next door. You giggled and were glad that you had heard Eileen leave before any of this even happened. He came back in a second with a warm, wet washcloth and cleaned you up before tossing it in your laundry bin.

***

He laid back down next to you, and you cuddled up to him. Your head rested on his chest and one leg slung over his closest one, your arm across his stomach and hand playing with the skin over his ribs on the other side of his body. He had one arm over your shoulder and was running his fingers through your hair.

“Well, we’re certainly going to be much later to dinner than I thought,” you told him, causing the both of you to laugh. You also chided, “And, you definitely interrupted me talking about teaching with this.”

“Sorry, I guess I got a little distracted,” he admitted a little bashfully but still laughing.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, pinching his side lightly. He giggled and grabbed your hand so you couldn’t do it again, continuing to hold it after the threat had passed. The two of you sighed happily in tandem, causing another round of chuckling.

After laying in silence for a couple of minutes, just enjoying each other’s company, you patted his chest saying, “Okay, we’d better go if we want to finish a meal before the restaurant closes.”

He whined and tried to pull you back down to him, succeeding as he was stronger than you. Figuring a different approach might work better, you swung one leg over his hips and sat up, straddling him yet again. You ghosted your lips over his and he lifted his head, trying to connect your mouth with his.

Letting him, you kissed him hotly for about five seconds before pulling away and saying against his lips, “Let’s go.” You hopped up off of his lap before he could fully regain his thoughts and were already dressing when his protests started.

“We don’t have to go to dinner tonight. I’m fine, honestly I don’t need to eat.”

“I’m sure,” you said, shaking your head at his words. “Well, I, for one, would like to eat, and I would like to eat at this restaurant,” you replied, shooting him a look. “And, because I’m not a tease like you, I’ll even tell you what we’re going to have: Flemish stew. It’s kind of like beef stew, but it’s a specialty of Belgium, so I thought that you’d like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” John said, finally giving in to leaving and starting to dress himself. As you pulled your shirt over your head, he moved to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your now-clothed waist and whispered in your ear, “Although I would say you are absolutely a tease with what you were doing just earlier.”

You felt your neck, ears, and cheeks heat up at his reference to your actions and you were glad your hair was still in your face from your shirt to hide your look of embarrassment. Sparing you from having to think of a comeback, he released you and finished getting dressed. After fixing your hair slightly, both you and John’s, and slipping on your shoes, the two of you headed out.

Just like you said, the restaurant was just about five minutes away, and the two of you made easy conversation, holding hands, on the way there. You walked up to the host station and were greeted with a smile, being one of their regulars by now. They appreciated not only that you came by at least once a week, but also that you spoke near-perfect French. The host led you back to a table that was in the corner of the most crowded part of the restaurant. You liked the mix of removal and opportunities for people-watching that it afforded you.

The two of you sat down and got comfortable before your usual waitress came over to the table.

“Bonjour, y/n!” she said happily and looked over at John expectantly.

“Bonjour, Léa. Il s’appelle John,” you introduced.

“Oh, bonjour, John,” she smiled at him then turned to wink at you. For the majority of the summer, you had been coming in alone, so she was a little surprised to see you with anyone, especially a man. You just smiled back but quickly looked at the menu, conferring with John that red wine would be okay before ordering a bottle for the both of you, along with the Flemish stew.

As dinner went on, the two of you fell completely back into the rhythm you had developed during your first week together. John again asked about your teaching, and this time, actually listened. He was glad to hear you so excited and was happy that you were able to pursue your passion, much like he was.

You were right, as always, about the Flemish stew. Not that John had doubted you, but this was probably even better than the beef stew he had at home. The two of you finished dinner and even got dessert, splitting orders of rice pudding and flemish beignets, feeding each other bites as always. After splitting the bill at John’s insistence, the two of you headed back to your apartment.

As it was a little colder, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, making sure his jacket covered both of you. In turn, you slid your hand along his waist, snuggling up close to retain body heat. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. You were still so conflicted. While cuddling was sure less explicit than what the two of you had gotten up to earlier that day, walking with him like this almost felt more intimate. And that intimacy was dangerous. After the two of you had had sex that afternoon, you had told yourself you would take a page out of Jeanne’s book, trying out the whole “friends with benefits” thing and leaving romantic feelings out of it. But it seemed to be getting harder and harder to do so with each passing moment, as everything he did and said just made your feelings for him grow. If you weren’t extremely careful, you knew you would end up completely in love with a rockstar that lived on another continent, as if you weren’t already.

Of course, you hadn’t talked to John about this. How were you supposed to? He was a certified rockstar, busy with writing and playing hit songs for sold out crowds all around the world. Plus, after the first time you two had slept together, wasn’t he the one about to tell you it wasn’t something that was long-term before you stopped him? You guys enjoyed each other sexually and were great friends. If that was all you would ever be, you just had to accept that.

As your thoughts had been drifting, it seemed as though John had been enjoying the architecture and quietness of the relatively small city. He felt comfortable just being silent with you, and appreciated that the two of you didn’t feel like you had to talk every second.

When you got back to the apartment, Eileen was there and the two of you sat and talked in the living room with her for a while. After she went to bed, you decided that you should as well to be ready for your first day of training.

John and you got ready for bed together, pulling on your pajamas and then brushing your teeth. You started to wash your face and then realized he was done, but was standing and staring at you.

“Don’t you wash your face?” you asked of him, hands gliding over your cheekbones and forehead as you rubbed the soap.

“Umm, no I don’t,” he said, sheepishly. It didn’t really surprise you, considering what you had observed from most boys’ routines, but you thought you could remedy that now.

“Well, you’re free to use my face wash. You should get all of the day’s grime off of your face, especially after being in an airport around all of those people.”

He agreed and reached for the bottle of face soap. As he reached up to his face, his hair got in the way but he couldn’t move it due to his soapy hands. You gathered it, pulling it into a loose ponytail with a hair tie for him and pushing back his bangs. You stepped back next to him as he started lathering the soap onto his face and looked at him in the mirror, immediately bursting out laughing.

“Hey! What are you laughing at?” he cried, careful not to get any soap in his mouth.

“Shh. Eileen’s sleeping. Nothing, I just think you look really cute right now. I think I like the ponytail,” you answered, still trying to muffle your giggles and pulling on his ponytail to punctuate your sentence. When you did so, the smile in his eyes left, replaced by that darkness you now knew and he made a deep sound in the back of his throat, staring into your eyes through the mirror. You gulped in response and let your hand fall back to your side, maintaining eye contact. John’s hands kept moving on his face, though, and in an accidental move he got soap in his eye.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he whined, and you quickly wet a washcloth, bringing it up to wipe away the suds by his eye.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it. There you go, you can open your eyes,” you reassured John.

He blinked his eyes open, still squinting a bit. His left eye was a little red but would be fine in a minute.

“Thanks for getting that,” he told you and you nodded in response, leaving to toss the washcloth in your hamper. That reminded you of what had transpired earlier as well as the look you two had shared in the bathroom. You shivered, but tried to ignore the feeling of desire because you knew you had to get to sleep. Plus, twice in one day with a guy you were trying not to fall in love with was probably not the best idea.

After washing his face off, John joined you in your bedroom. The bed was set up against the wall, and he took that side, knowing that you had to get up early and that the other side was the one you were used to anyway.

For a second, the two of you just laid on your backs, unsure what to do next. At the same moment, the two of you turned to face each other. You both laughed at the synchronicity and then said, “Can I hold you?” and “Can you hold me?” at the same time. Again, you laughed lightly together and then you turned over to face away from John so he could fit his form to yours. You scooted back into him, intertwining your legs with his. He moved your hair so he could kiss your neck sweetly and draped an arm over your waist. Picking up that hand of his, you lifted it to your mouth, kissing his palm before placing it back on you, with your hand over his. After you turned your bedside lamp off, the two of you settled and just when you were sure he was asleep, he mumbled, “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight Johnny,” you replied, smiling with your eyes closed as you felt him nuzzle further into you. In his arms, you fell asleep in minutes.

🍀🍀🍀

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komahinasecretexchange · 5 years

Text

Title: Kicking Roses, Folding Cranes

Author: @zombiekittiez

For: @irl-miu-fuckin-iruma / @miu-has-commoncold

Rating/Warnings: Teen, Language, Suggestiveness, Unhealthy Relationships

Prompt: 1) some cuddles 2) soft kisses 3) anything angsty

Author’s notes: Heyyyy it’s, uh, like really way longer than I meant and is way more 3) 2) 1) but then it was due so like… I hope you like it!

It starts, probably, when they find the pallet of triple-wrapped boxes at the back of the warehouse. It takes some maneuvering to uncover what was so carefully preserved, so the whole class ends up making a day of it. While Nidai leads a veritable army of Minimarus to the challenge, Imposter takes bets on the contents, writing each name and guess and wager in neat, even strokes. Mostly, Hajime thinks, the bets are centered more on wishful thinking than any concrete proof. It is highly improbable that Saionji will find a “fuck ton of gummies” or that Souda will stumble across a “disassembled liquid fuel cryogenic J-2 engine,” but he supposes that they are having fun and that is what counts.

While Nidai and Sonia eagerly attack the plastic sheeting, Hajime becomes aware of Komaeda, standing two steps back and to the right. It’s a habit he’s developed, since waking up, deferential hovering like some lady-in-waiting. It annoys Hajime, who has learned better than to confront Komaeda directly about things like equality. Rather, he takes a perverse sort of pleasure in thwarting Komaeda indirectly whenever possible.

Hajime takes the book from Imposter and makes a show of frowning at the page. “Komaeda,” he calls. He holds the page so closely that Komaeda must lean in, long hair falling in his face, to follow his line zig-zagging down the columns, scarcely any space at all between them. “I don’t see your bet.”

Komaeda laughs softly. “Wouldn’t that be rigging the game?”

“Depends on your guess.” Hajime points out. “There is a certain amount of logic involved in gambling, one reason you’re so good at it.”

“Logical… is that how you see me?” Komaeda asks, bemused. “I suppose I could make an educated guess.”

“Humor me.”

“Something totally impractical, most likely.” Komaeda hums a little to himself, turning to face Haime fully, his back to the unboxing. Souda and Nida work the crowbars at the top of the crate. “So much wrapping means it’s probably easily ruined by wet weather…”

The crate is open. Owari looks inside and gives a loud snort of disgust. Can’t be edible.

“Stationary? No, that’s too general…” Mioda picks up a something small and square and colorful. She gives it a shake.

“Origami paper,” Komaeda says brightly, smacking a fist against his open palm just as Mioda drops the packet, small perfect squares of colorful paper scattering across the floor. Collectively, class 77B groans.

Souda leads the charge, ignoring Komaeda’s protests with “it counts, it totally counts!” so Komaeda leaves weighed down with various odds and ends according to the bet book- konpeito, a seashell in the shape of a dinosaur, a seaweed based health tonic, pictures of a particularly cute dog, an alarm clock that sprays the sleeper with water, a set of mostly unbroken watercolor pencils, a peach cobbler, a tarnished silver pendant in the shape of a rabbit, slightly squashy strawberry chocolates and several hundred sheets of origami paper. Hajime, as instigator, is voluntold to help carry the items back to the first island cottages.

“For your services,” Komaeda announces at the door, dumping the candy and pastries into Hajime’s arms.

“And because you don’t like sweet things.” Hajime sighs. “You don’t have to keep all their junk, you know, Komaeda. We can find some use for the paper. It probably burns well.”

“No,” Komaeda says firmly, and while he generally does what he pleases, he is rarely so confident affirming it. “That would be a waste.” Hajime blinks.

“Oh.” He makes a note to tell the others to leave the remaining paper alone. It’s not like it’s hurting anyone. It’s nice, he decides, for Komaeda to show interest in something. Whatever reality he was living in when dead and buried under layers of code, it left him subdued. Without the fanatical desperation of his looming luck or the drive of despair, he seems a little empty. With his white hair and his pale face and his fading smile, he has become something like Hajime’s personal ghost, only scarcely glimpsed in mirrors or around corners of buildings. Hajime half expects to wake to see Komaeda in his cottage in the middle of the night, looming over the bed. He wonders why that thought is less disturbing than it should be and chalks it up to a Kamukura thing.

Komaeda tends to work salvage shifts in the library with Sonia who reads thirty-two languages, though, she admits, her Hindi is abysmal. He sorts and cleans wonderfully, and, Sonia assures Souda regularly, is a perfect gentleman.

Two days after what Mioda dubbed The Origami Incident of ‘85 for no discernible reason, Sonia distributes tiny metal cards to everyone at breakfast. Each is embossed with a name and a tiny scanner.

“Library cards,” she explains. “The library committee has decided to allow checking out up to three items at a time.”

“You just scan the book’s UPC code like this-” Souda aims his card at a book in Sonia’s arms titled Baphomet and You! Occult Leanings in 19th Century France. The card gives a little beep, a light on the side blinking green. “Blammo! You got two weeks.”

“What happens if you keep them past the due date?” Hajime wonders, holding his card up to the light. When he lowers it again, everyone in the room is staring at him in disgust.

“I know that conditions are different than what we have, in the civilized world,” Sonia says very slowly, as though talking to a child. “But we are not animals, Hinata.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, unable to summon the patience or the interest to defend himself. “Where’s Komada’s?”

“It was his idea, so, of course, he had first choice.” Sonia explains.

Komaeda, sitting at the table by the window, drinks his blackened coffee and flips through a copy of Origami for Beginners.

“Huh.” Hajime puts his card into his pocket and gets up. It’s his turn for dish duty.

Later, Hajime finds the origami penguin in the downstairs lobby, balanced on the bar top across from the arcade machines. The lines are a little uneven so it stands lopsided on one end, like it’s hunched over protectively from the invisible cold. He picks it up and looks it over before setting it gently back into place.

An origami fox sits on the library shelf above the DIY section. Its ears were creased in the wrong direction at first so they curl under a little, giving it a hangdog sort of expression. Hajime picks up a book on water purification systems. He scans the book jacket with his library card until he hears an approving sort of beep. Sonia waves goodbye when he leaves. She is the only one he sees.

When Hajime goes up for lunch, the bar penguin has a friend. The second penguin is a little crisper and neater.

“I haven’t seen Komaeda around much today,” he brings up to Souda over curry rice. He tries to make it seem off-handed.

“It’s probably that thing,” Souda says unhelpfully.

“That thing.” Hajime echoes.

“The paper thing.” Souda gestures with his spoon. “He’s getting pretty good. Those invitation whatevers turned out kind of neat.”

“Invitations.”

“Yeah, how they opened up like flowers? Koizumi put mine back together for me after I couldn’t cause I’m clumsy. I put it on the mirror in my room. Maybe that’s girly, I dunno.”

“Invitation to what, Souda?”

“That origami meet up on Thursdays,” Souda says like it’s obvious. “It was on the invite, man.”

“I didn’t get an invite, Souda,” Hajime explains with what feels like infinite patience.

“Oh.” Souda pauses. Hums. Takes another bite and a swig of banana milk. “Probably he just didn’t want to bother you,” he decides.

After lunch, Hajime pauses on the stairs, seeing movement. Down below, Komaeda folds a half sheet of paper, eyes narrowed in concentration, adding to his Arctic tableau. After a few minutes of careful creasing, a half-sized penguin nestles between the two bigger penguins in a little penguin family.

“Can I try?” Hajime asks and Komaeda startles.

“Ah… yes, of course.” Komaeda hands him a sheet and steps to the side, cradling the How-to book to his chest. He doesn’t offer to show Hajime the diagram and Hajime doesn’t need it. He folds a crisp and perfect penguin without even trying. He hardly ever feels like he’s trying, when it’s not people.

“Here,” he says, handing it to Komaeda, who looks over its flawlessly symmetrical lines with a neutral expression. He walks to the end of the bar top and puts it down, far away from the messy loving penguin family.

“Don’t you think they’d want to stick together?” Hajime asks lamely, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Like… don’t you think he wants to be friends?”

“He’ll be happier over there,” Komaeda says with finality, stepping back to admire his work. If he moved the penguin any further away, it would fall off the counter.

Hajime sighs again. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

On Thursday, Hajime decides to sort through the junk bins in Electric Avenue like he’s been avoiding for the past couple of weeks. It’s better to do this sort of thing alone, he reasons. It is tedious, automatic work, and by the end he has a solid organization system going. He sets a couple of things aside, bundling them into his bag and bringing them back across to the main island via schooner.

The kitchen is dark. The meeting must still be on. Hajime makes himself a sandwich and eats it with his feet in the pool, which Koizumi hates because she’s worried about crumbs. It’s nice, in a childish sort of way.

It’s not like he’s waiting, exactly, he reasons. He just happens to be out here, aimlessly footing around. He plays some Gala-Omega. He plays some Pac-Man. He peeks outside periodically, feeling like a creep. Souda is the first one coming around the bend and that might be his luck working because this is probably the best possible solution.

“Hey, c’mere a second.” Hajime gestures him into the downstairs lobby.

“What’s up, soul friend?” Souda grins at him cheekily.

“Here.” Hajime shoves two bundles at him. Souda pulls open the first.

“Heck yeah, you found me one! I thought if you had your luck you might.” He pokes at the Liox Li-air battery pack with obvious glee. “What’s this other stuff?”

“Komaeda needs it for the prosthetic upgrade.” Hajime clears his throat. “Can you do that?”

“You want me to work on his robo-arm? You wouldn’t let me near it during development, like it was your damn baby. What gives?”

Hajime’s eyes focus off in the distance, toward the bar top. “I’m just… busy right now.”

“Busy.” Souda looks at Hajime, bare footed with the cuffs of his pants rolled up, still a little damp around the bottom. He then looks pointedly at the new row of top scores on their two working arcade machines.

“Really busy,” Hajime insists.

“Hey, man, if this is about-”

“Ultimate Mechanic,” Hajime interrupts. “I bet you want to do all kinds of upgrades.”

Souda shuts up, eyes gleaming at the thought. “What about-”

“Not a rocket launcher. Not with his luck,” Hajime admonishes.

“You never let me have any fun,” Souda gripes, taking the parts and heading back outside.

Hajime takes his perfect penguin back to his cottage. He thinks about crumpling it up, but Komaeda is right. It would be a waste. He puts it on his desk, the single ornament in a plain and boring room for a plain and boring person.

“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, and he goes to bed. Even after resting, he has a hard time focusing.

“Are…. a-are you doing okay?” Tsumiki asks hesitantly during inventory at the pharmacy. They’re in the back with all the really strong stuff, checking expiration dates and carting what’s salvageable to the hospital dispensary.

“Yes. The Ultimate Pharmacist talent is an easier one,” Hajime assures her, flipping through the steroids. The Prednisone is still properly sealed. He shakes the box a little and then puts it into the usable pile.

“T-that’s not what I meant,” Tsumiki murmurs. There’s a bright green origami rabbit peeking out from her apron pocket. “You haven’t been coming around much, and w-we were worrying-”

“If no one asks me for help, it’s because they don’t need it. If they don’t talk to me, they don’t need to talk to me.” Hajime discards several thoroughly crushed blister packs of allergy medicine. “I’m helping you, aren’t I? Because you asked. If someone asks me, I’ll help them.”

“W-what if Komaeda asks?” Tsumiki asks timidly.

Hajime snorts. “Komaeda is never going to ask me for anything,” he says with finality and after that they work in silence.

Nagito is in the back practicing penguins like usual when Hinata next comes to visit the library. He stays out of sight, but the open door lets him listen in as he presses folds into blue and white paper.

“Your mortal shell lacks vigor,” Tanaka notes from behind the counter where he is helping Sonia remove the unsightly relics of time lost past- his phrasing for wiping the dust jackets free of dirt and pollen. Hinata’s returned the book on electrical system hybridization, so Nagito supposes that the rewiring has gone off well. Lately, Hinata’s productivity has been at a record high. It is abominably conceited for one such as himself to take even the slightest credit for such an endeavor, but he can’t help feeling a little personal pride.

Hasn’t he kept his distance beautifully? Hasn’t he distracted the others and kept them entertained so as to not disturb Hinata’s most important work?

Origami Thursdays are a terrific success, he decides. Perhaps he’ll ask Mioda about a Karaoke Friday or something.

“We have not seen you for breakfast recently,” Sonia tells Hinata worriedly.

“I’ve been getting an early start,” Hinata says.Nagito chances glancing up as he leans over to pick up a fresh sheet of paper off the pile. Hinata has not noticed him, or is ignoring him, perhaps. His eyes are fixed on the high shelf behind the counter. There’s a little fox family there now, too. Three little kits. They are a disgrace. The Papa Fox has to be discreetly propped up using the corner of a children’s book. Hinata should not have to look upon such trash. Nagito’s fingers fairly itch to hide them away.

“Do you like them?” Sonia asks, noticing Hinata’s gaze. “They are so very cute! Komada has been putting them around. We’ve been helping.”

“The ice-visages in the den of inequity are particularly enchanting,” Tanaka agrees.

“I do so love penguins! Though I thought I saw four, earlier. There’s only three now.” Sonia says thoughtfully.

“You must have miscounted,” Hinata shrugs.

On his way to lunch, Nagito checks.

Hinata’s penguin is gone.

Well. That’s fine.

Hinata’s origami was so obviously superior. Ultimate Handicrafts, probably, or something of that nature. To put his creation alongside Nagito’s amateurish mess was an insult. It probably had a much better place to live now. Perhaps he should check.

When Hinata goes for a run by his lonesome after dinner, along the sandy beach, Nagito takes a quick look inside his cabin. It’s not hard to jimmy the lock, with a hairpin and a bit of luck. The penguin sits on Hinata’s desk and Nagito feels a small swell of pride at that too, though undeserved. It was his paper, his past-time, perhaps even his influence. He picks it up and looks it over, admiring its perfect creases. He gives it a tiny kiss on its little beak, feeling a bit foolish and lovelorn and yet… it’s nice. Hinata made it, after all.

He locks the cabin and leaves without disturbing anything. It might be a bit creepy, but then Nagito is perfectly aware of his own glaring faults. Besides, it’s not as though he breaks into Hinata’s cabin often.

Once or twice a week, at most.

Rarely when he’s sleeping.

The thing is, Hajime isn’t without sympathy. This used to be what it was like for him, wasn’t it? Komaeda.People just putting up with you. Of course they like Hajime, of course they do. He saved them. It’s just- he’s kind of creepy, right? And even when someone talks to him, he’s not great at it. No Ultimate Conversationalist skill, ha-ha!

It’s only fair, he reasons. Ultimate Sociologist totally gets it. Pack dynamics. Social identity approach. Secondary Interpersonal attraction. These terms apply to class 77-B, with shared history and loss and recovery. This current hierarchy, with him perched along the top, is different altogether. The Ultimate Despairs are an emergent response group. Temporary bonds formed according to external trauma. And now they are dissolving.

Because Komaeda has memories with them, memories of before, memories with Nanami. All Hajime has is shared Despair.

Hajime is helpful. He knows he’s helpful. He’s a human multitool, for crying out loud. And he keeps them in line, mostly. Keeps them from breaking anything too important. It had been annoying, all the hovering and fluttering but now it’s gone. Respect. Reverence. Not love.

But maybe that’s not good enough. Not when you’re looking for reasons to stay.

It isn’t like he sat down and planned it out, his leaving. It’s just that he looked up during dinner, in the middle of a table, in the midst of conversations that do not invite him in and realizes he is an empty chair. This would be the same either way, and wherever he goes, he will be just as hollow.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that before,” Komaeda says quietly, when he picks up Hajime’s dishes. He’s on clean up duty tonight. Hajime shrugs. It was a smile of relief. Once a problem is identified, it can be corrected.

Physical work always helps his mind clear, so it’s a few days later when Hajime takes a break from ripping the piping out of the walls outside the factory, the sweat running down his face and soaking his shirt. It’s too hot for this, just a little past noon, but he doesn’t want to sit still. Busy, he decides, is better.

He pulls off his shirt and uses it to wipe his face. When he looks up, Komaeda and Saionji have stopped where they were coming down the middle of the path. Komaeda stares.

“What?” Hajime asks, annoyed.

Komaeda turns on his heels and heads to the warehouse.

“Good talk,” Hajime mutters, throwing his shirt to the side of the path.

“He’s probably just really grossed out,” Saionji says, voice syrupy sweet. “You’re pretty disgusting right now, bro.”

“What are you two doing out here anyway?”

“More origami paper,” Saionji grins. “I’m giving private lessons.”

“Gross,” Hajime says with feeling.

“Are you jelly? Lime green jelly?” Saionji crows. “I’m a master of Japanese arts, you know!” She smirks up at him and Hajime just feels exhausted.

“So go get your paper and leave me alone,” he mutters.

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Saionji sings, disappearing from view.

By the time Hajime finishes converting his irritation into manual labor, he’s got a sky-high pile of copper pipes and two pulled muscles in his back. He hobbles into the warehouse, looking for something to use as a walking stick till he can get to Nidai’s healing hands and sees the open crate, still ridiculously full of paper. On top, haphazardly discarded, is a single paper crane.

Komaeda’s paper crane. He can tell by the way the edges overlap slightly to the right. It must be particularly hard to do, with one robot hand. He imagines Komaeda unfolding and refolding, unfolding and refolding, mouth twisted to one side in concentration, wonders what it would be like to mess that up for him, to touch that expression.

He folds one. Two. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. By the time he gets to one hundred, his breath is even and his back hardly throbs. Speedy recovery and all that. He puts them in an empty box and slides it behind the crate.

When he gets to the dining hall, the chaos is in full swing but he still feels calm and centered. Souda notices him in the doorway after a bit and waves him over to try and make room, but Hajime just grabs an orange juice and waves.

“I need a shower, I’ll eat later.” Komaeda’s eyes follow him out of the doorway.

He can’t remember the last time he was in such a clear thinking mood. Ten days, he decides. Ten times one hundred is one thousand. Ten days is plenty of time. He will prioritize the repairs, focus on the ones that require varied talents, and then he will leave a thousand paper cranes and this island behind.

Nagito is suspicious.

Ever since he’d caught that peculiar smile on Hinata’s face, he’s been suspicious. Nagito is not particularly clever or capable or even useful, but he does have a head for delicate tasks like cleaning or folding origami and he is the resident expert on Hajime Hinata.

Of course the others had noticed and asked and of course he had answered them vaguely, with a reassuring smile but underneath it all, Nagito watched as he always did and waited and thought.

It was so hard to maintain distance, sometimes.

Hinata, sweat slicked and muscles stark as he worked outside in the unforgiving sun.

“Put your tongue back in your fucking mouth,” Saionji had sneered once she’d found him in the warehouse after their run in, hugging his own arms tightly and blinking brightly at the wall, overloading on the memory. She threw a piece of paper at him and he had caught it and folded a perfect white crane. The motions calmed him back to normalcy and he left it on the top of the crate, whimsically.

But he doesn’t like how hard Hinata is working. Like there’s a kind of deadline approaching. He goes for a walk, letting his feet carry him along. With his luck, he’ll figure it out in no time. It takes a day or two to figure out where in the warehouse his luck is telling him to look.

One hundred paper cranes.

“I-I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Tsumiki says happily as Hinata closes the panel of the MRI, the light on the side glowing a sudden reassuring green.

Two hundred paper cranes.

“Ibuki is totally gonna write a song about this!” Mioda crows when the lights flicker on properly backstage at the Titty Typhoon and the fog machine whirs to life.

Three hundred paper cranes.

“I thank you for your dedication,” Imposter murmurs imperiously as Hinata brings the diner oven to a steady, even flame. Imposter has a basket of oysters under one arm, ready to roast. He might be drooling a little.

Four hundred paper cranes.

“Fuckin’ unbelievable,” Kuzuryu blinks when Hinata makes the adjustment and then his bionic eye flares to life. “I feel like a goddamn superhero.”

Komaeda checks nightly and sees the number growing and growing, strung together in long strands. What is it for? What does it mean? Every crane is so perfect and Hinata is working so very hard. He sets up Koizumi’s dark room. He works on the desalination station. The greenhouse. The atmospheric purifier. Communication encryption.

Five hundred, six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred.

“You look tired,” Nagito says nervously, running into Hinata in the the storage room accidentally-on-purpose. He takes two large steps backward.

“I’ll take a break soon,” Hinata explains, shutting down the back up generator now that it is running smoothly. “Then I’ll sleep for a week.”

“We will take pains not to disturb you, then.” Nagito assures him and Hinata just smiles vaguely in response. Nagito loves Hinata’s smiles. Not that one, though.

Nagito’s luck had fizzled out that morning during dish duty and caused a power outage for two hours, just long enough to collapse the delicate souffles Hanamura had planned for a special dinner treat. He decides that it’s better to keep his distance for now, in case there is more bad luck on the way. Nagito heads to the warehouse, to drag out the crate from under the worktables and to count the paper cranes. It’s wonderfully soothing. He wonders what will happen when Hinata reaches one thousand. Something wonderful, he bets.

In the crate, there are nine hundred perfect paper cranes. Beside the crate is a knapsack. It has dried rations, a portable water purifier, a multi-tool and a stun-gun. Crumpled in the pocket is a draft of a note. To him. To all of them.

By the time you are reading this…

Nagito takes a deep deep breath. His mouth twists up on one side.

What terrible luck.

After Hajime finishes the last of the essential repairs, he decides to head back to his cottage to shower up and to try writing his farewell note again. All the eloquence of the Ultimate Literary Genius, unable to write a short and sweet goodbye. Pathetic. After dinner, he’ll slip over to the warehouse and finish the last hundred cranes. His one small bag is already packed and waiting there. The shower he takes is a long one, and very hot. He enjoys it- it may be the last hot shower he has for a while, the world being what it is out there. He’s still toweling his hair roughly when he walks back into his bedroom and sees it- a single, perfect crane on his bed. White.The same crane he’d first seen in the warehouse, he realizes, picking it up.

Then someone clamps a rag around his nose and mouth from behind and everything goes black.

It is some time later when Hajime wakes up in bed. It is soft and he is comfortable. Someone has tucked him in on all sides, something he can’t remember ever experiencing before, even as a child. He blinks sleepily. Someone is banging on the door. It’s very annoying but he can ignore it, if he likes, so he does. There’s yelling now, too. What is it they’re saying… Fire? Someone is yelling Fire, Fire, how cliche.

He’s nearly asleep again when he recognizes Souda’s voice.

“YO!” Souda screams. “Get the fuck up, Komaeda set the warehouse on fire!”

Hajime blinks. He sits up.

“…Again?”

Nagito whistles tunelessly as he watches the building burn. As an after thought, he pulls the origami penguins from his pocket. One, two, three from the lobby, one from Hinata’s cottage, liberated during what he likes to think of as the Sleepytime Phase. Mioda had been less than amused by that, actually. She’s over with the others, staring at him and the fire and him and the fire as though something will change. It will not. He wanders closer to the building and they shy away. Nagito drops all the penguins into the fire together.

“If you’re going to burn, better to burn together,” Nagito murmurs, smiling.

He’s not crazy. He isn’t.

Probably.

“Wow.” Hajime crosses his arms, watching the Minimarus fighting the flames. It is both adorable and futile. The rest of their classmates huddle in a little group on the other side- as far away from Komeda as they can manage.

“The accelerant was a bit more potent in real life, I’m afraid,” Komaeda smiles cheerfully, two careful steps behind.

“Komaeda?”

“Yes, Hinata?”

“… why did you set the warehouse on fire?”

“You only had a hundred left,” Komaeda says, like it’s obvious. “You had to be stopped.”

“You set the warehouse on fire because of paper cranes?” Hajime wonders sometimes if he’s actually just having some kind of aneurysm and this is all some long, drawn out hallucination sequence.

“No, Hinata,” Komaeda says very slowly and Hajime swallows back the urge to hit him in the mouth. “I set the warehouse on fire because you were leaving.”

Hajime blinks.

“I knew you were up to something when you started working yourself to death. That list,by the way, the one you keep in your desk? Not the order I would have put those tasks in, but I’m sure someone as talented as you had your reasons. When I saw you had already packed your bag last night, I knew I had to act quickly-”

“Wait, when did you-”

“When you were sleeping, obviously,” Komaeda continues, as though this is the least important detail, “But I think you were really quite unfair, you know. I’m not sure what else I could have done. I was trying to be considerate, distract the others to let you have some breathing room, and then you go and do a thing like that. Honestly, I’m disappointed, if that’s as far as your hope can take you.“

“Can we go back like… to step three? Or something? Because…” Hajime trails off.

“The point is that you’re not allowed to leave the islands.” Komaeda shrugs carelessly. “Sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”

“I’m not allowed?”

“Nope.” Komaeda smiles again. “No more cranes, no more leaving.”

“The two aren’t… I mean, I could just… make more paper cranes.” Hajime says, bewildered.

“Most of the origami paper was lost in the fire. Turns out it does burn well! You’re so clever, to have known that. But if you find more or you make more, that’s okay. I’ll just burn those too.” Komaeda’s face settles into a peculiar expression. “But there’s no need for that. Someone as important as you has to be here! I can help. I can stay further back, if you like? Three… no,five steps? I can stop speaking to you directly, if the sound of my voice is too unpleasant to bear. Maybe I could only come out during the night, once everyone is asleep, so no one has to see trash like me? Those are just suggestions, please feel free to direct me how you please-”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hajime runs a hand down his face in utter exasperation. With his free hand, he grabs Komaeda by the wrist and drags him over to the others.

“Tell them you’re sorry,” Hajime orders.

“I am very sorry you must all co-exist with such a garbage human being,” Komaeda chirps.

“About the fire!”

“Oh. Did you want me to lie, Hinata? That doesn’t seem very nice.” Komaeda temporizes, tilting his head to the side.

“You are such a freak,” Saionji sneers.

“Crazy son-of-a-” Souda clutches at the front of his jumper, gritting his teeth.

“Somebody oughta put you down,” Kuzuryu says darkly and Pekoyama puts one hand on her bamboo sword.

Komaeda nods and nods. “But it was necessary, you know! For hope. And now our hope will stay.” Komaeda turns huge adoring eyes on Hajime. So does everyone else.

“Wait… what is he talking about?” Koizumi asks suspiciously.

“You were gonna leave?!” Owari bellows.

“Where the hell d’you think you’re going, punk? Too good for us now, is that it?” Kuzuryu turns on him and Pekoyama puts her hand back on her bamboo sword.

Hajime holds up a hand. “No. Stop. Look. I thought… and I was… it doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving,” he says. “Anymore,” he adds. They look thoroughly unimpressed. And there’s Komaeda, looking friendly and gentle and sooty and only maybe one tenth as insane as he actually is, but. Also. Didn’t it… wasn’t it… sort of… working?

He isn’t leaving, is he?

“Fuck, I’m tired.” He groans, almost to himself.

“Chloroform does that to people,” Komaeda agrees in a knowing sort of way.

“I need to lay down.” Hajime says after a solid thirty sixty seconds where he just covers his face and breathes heavily. “Now that the fire is contained, I need to lay down.”

Komaeda nods sagely but is then suddenly dragged up and along the path back to the bridge and the first island.

“Hinata?”

Hajime increases the pace. He can feel something building up inside of himself, as inexorably as the ocean. He just needs to get inside. If he can get back to his cabin he can sleep.

“I can see that you’re upset with me. Completely understandable! I’m imposing upon you with my presence. The very air that I breathe is like poison around you. It would be best if I stopped my disgusting voice altogether-”

Hajime grabs Komaeda by the shoulders. “Shut up,” he orders, but the buzzing in his head is so thunderously loud that he can’t be sure the words are coming out at all. Komaeda’s mouth is still moving. Words are still pouring out.

Hajime shuts him up. He puts a hand against Komaeda’s mouth and holds it there. “Stop,” he begs. “Stop holding back. Stop putting me to the side. Stop ignoring me. Stop whatever you’re doing to make them ignore me too, Komaeda… I can’t do this. I can’t take this.” Tears of frustration are escaping but he doesn’t care. They’re still in front of the ranch, haven’t even made it back yet, but Hajime just wants to lie down in the dirt. “Pay attention to me. Be around me. Be normal, okay? Be your normal, be your regular weird fuck self, I-” his voice breaks.

Nagito reaches up with his free hand and pulls Hinata’s hand off his face. He turns it around, till the fingers curl up toward the sky. He looks at Hinata impassively.

Had he always been so weak and soft? A little space and he doubts their love already. Utterly faithless. Utterly disappointing.

Nagito loves that part of him too.

He presses a kiss into Hajime’s fingers. The knuckles. The wrist. Each is a soft and reverent thing.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” He asks, between kisses. “Poor Hinata. You must be so tired.”

Hinata lets go of Nagito’s wrist and reaches up to scrub angrily at his face. Nagito takes that hand too. They’re standing in the middle of the path where anyone can see them, but if Hinata isn’t going to kick him into the dirt over it, he can’t be bothered to care what the inferior talents will think or feel. It’s Hinata’s decision, so if he chooses to have such appalling foresight as to allow Nagito free reign, well. Nagito won’t be the one to tell him he’s making poor life choices.

Komaeda leads, this time, their fingers laced together, and they go back to Hinata’s cottage. He makes no move to open the door; likely as not, he’d forgotten the keys in his haste. Nagito knows that fires tend to do that to even the best of people. Luckily, he has a hairpin.

“You’re too good at that,” Hinata sniffs warily.

“Thanks!” Nagito grins as he pushes open the door. He locks the door behind them. Hinata shucks his shoes and his shirt on the floor, which is a bit messy, but Hinata has had a rough day, so Nagito will let it slide this time. He tucks Hinata in on all sides and leans against the foot of the bed, head resting on his elbow, watching with a contented smile.

“You’re so goddamn creepy,” Hinata complains, throwing an arm over his eyes to keep from seeing him. “And embarrassing. And awful.” Nagito nods along. “Get off the floor,” he orders.

“The floor is too good for someone like me, but surely you don’t want to leave me unsupervised?” Nagito suggests. Hinata hauls him up by the elbow.

“Get in the fucking bed,” he says, and Nagito does, sliding happily between the sheets. He’s so warm, this steady physical presences that dips the mattress so they lay close together on the tiny bed. Nagito traces the path from Hinata’s shoulder down to his hip.

“You smell wonderful,” Nagito sighs, face buried against Hinata’s shoulder, curled into the shape of his body from the back. He smells a little sweaty from the run, but clean and quick, and still a little like shampoo. He nuzzles the back of Hinata’s neck and Hinata shivers.

“You smell like smoke,” Hinata says flatly. “Take your clothes off.”

Hajime would like to tell himself that he didn’t mean those words to come out that way. That this, like the thing about the origami, like the thing about leaving the island, was just a big mistake. It’s just that when Nagito slides back into bed, warm, soft, completely naked, and starts kissing the back of his neck with those same slow, even, deliberate kisses, he doesn’t want him to stop.

Komaeda’s hair still smells like smoke.

Hajime rolls over to face him anyway.

“You’re so fucking crazy.” Hajime murmurs, pulling him close. He holds Komaeda properly, holds him close to his chest like Komaeda might dissolve if he doesn’t. He might slip right through Hajime’s fingers and into the mattress and into the dirt. He might slip off in the night and set something else on fire. He might hurl himself off a cliff. Hajime kisses Komaeda’s cheek. His ear. The side of his nose. The corner of his mouth. “I can’t leave you alone. What the hell would you do?” He doesn’t let Komaeda answer, pressing his mouth against Komaeda’s and leaving it there, just breathing the same air. Occupying the same space. Komaeda kisses him back, gently. The wet slide of lips. Languid. Sleepy. Loving.

“You brought me back,” Komaeda reminds him, slipping his arms around Hajime too, dragging fingers down his broad back gently, making Hajime squirm. “Take responsibility.”

Hajime does.

#fanfiction #komahina #komahina secret exchange

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kpopscenarios4u-blog · 5 years

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Choose Your Own Romance: Series One - BTS (We Got Married) - Intro

Chapters: Start -> Athlete Path -> “The only thing I truly dislike is being in a place with stifling air. If the relationship was stifling, I think that would be the only deal breaker I would have.”

Your name: submit What is this?

Your morning was spent like most mornings. A nutritious breakfast, and then on to training. Since you lived at the Korea National Training Center, you preferred to walk from the dormitories to the training grounds. They were building a new center in Jincheon-gun, but it wouldn’t be opened for another year, so a lot of your seniors lived off-site. You enjoyed living at the Training Center, however. Your only living family member was your grandmother who lived in the countryside, so living in the dormitories was like having a large family. You liked having a family. One day, you wanted a large family with a lot of children. Of course, your dream to win a gold medal came first and there was plenty of time to still have a family.

Part of the reason you were so willing to go on this variety show was to experience what it was like to have a family. You parents had died when you were very young, and you’d lived with your grandparents until you entered the athlete training program on a scholarship. You’d been 11 and at first it had been exciting living away from home, and while you loved living with like-minded people, you did wonder what a real family was like.

Your training program started with some stretching before you moved on to a light jog to warm up. The camera crew began to show up just as you were completing your jog and moving on to your pole vaulting training. You watched them set up for a moment before pushing them from your mind and focusing on your training. If you were going to be someone’s wife, you’d be a wife to make them proud. Halfway through training, your coach called you over.

“Y/N! Your husband will be coming to watch you train as part of your meeting.” He informed you. Nerves suddenly engulfed your stomach and you paled slightly. It wasn’t often that people came to watch you train. Usually, the other athletes had their own training to worry about. Occasionally your nutritionist or important committee members would stop by to watch you, but that was fine. The whole nation could stop by to watch you and that would be fine. You’d competed on the world stage at the previous Olympics, and that was fine, but knowing that your husband would be coming to watch you train made you nervous.

You wanted to say that it wasn’t fair. He would have the upper hand and know who you were first. He’d get to see you in action. What if he changed his mind and decided that he didn’t want to marry you after seeing you? What if you weren’t pretty enough for him? You’d been told that you were beautiful. You’d even been in an article for the top 20 most beautiful athletes of the country, but that didn’t mean you appealed to everyone. You’d never cared what other people thought about your looks before, so why did you care now? This was only a fake marriage, so it didn’t matter.

Instead, you nodded and went back to training, unaware that your future husband was currently making his way into the grandstands.

“Hello, I’m V and today, I’m getting married,” Taehyung said, bowing to the camera and flashing his square smile.

“What sort of marriage do you hope to have with your wife?” The interviewer asked, causing Taehyung to stop and think about it.

“I think I’d like to be good friends with my wife,” He couldn’t help but grin at the word, his ears turning slightly pink. “I’d want things to be like they are with my close friends, but obviously, we’d be married. As I’m quite young, it would be nice to experience a lot of firsts with her and learn how to be a strong couple together.”

“Who would be your dream wife?”

“I think it would be nice to marry someone outside of the music industry, so I can learn more about other industries - maybe a model or an athlete. Having an athlete for a wife would be very interesting.”

You finished off your training session with another run around the track and more stretching. You’d been a little distracted towards the end of your run, trying to spot your husband in the stands. He must have been taken somewhere else to meet you, however, as you hadn’t been able to find him.

Maybe your coach had just told you that he would be there to get you used to competing under pressure.

However, your end-of-training debriefing was condensed as you were sent off to the showers to wash off and prepare for your meeting. Your shower was followed by hair and make-up - something that felt very odd to be having done in the locker room. You were given clothes to change into, much nicer clothes to the skinny jeans and hoodies that you were used to wearing. Thankfully, the short blue spring dress was paired with a comfortable pair of gray vans. At least you wouldn’t have to move your lanky, long limbs around in heels and make a fool of yourself.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to dressing up. Occasionally, you’d be invited to a gala dinner or an award show. After the last Olympics, the athletes had been invited to a fancy dinner thrown by the President of South Korea. You’d barely been 16 - having celebrated your 16th birthday the day after your win - so you’d been dressed much more demure than you were able to get away with now. Still, you prefered flats to heels. Besides, you were already uncomfortable without having to worry about heels, as well.

As you were leaving the locker room, you were met just outside the doorway with a camera. Attached to the bottom of the camera with a wire hanger, was a maroon envelope. You smiled shyly and reached out for it.

Opening up the letter you read it out loud.

Dear Wife, Y/N

In this sport you can kick a ball Or you can also use your head Try not to do a bad tackle Or you’ll be shown a card that’s red

“Soccer? Do I go to the soccer field?” You asked the man behind the camera. He just looked at you with a tilted head. “Oh, you can’t answer me.” You laughed and held up your hands in a sorry gesture. Deciding that that was a good place to start, you made your way to the soccer field. It wasn’t too far of a walk from the track and field stadium. Arriving at the soccer ground you looked around to see if anyone stood out. The men’s Olympic soccer team was training.

“Is he a soccer player?” You didn’t really know any of the men on the soccer team, but one of them noticed you and jogged up to you with a red envelope. You both bowed awkwardly to one another as you took it before he jogged back to his team.

“Oh gosh, that startled me.” You laughed and opened up the next envelope.

Dear Wife, Y/N

Although I’m not a book I need two stories or more I go straight up and down To go to another floor

Well, that one was easy, but which elevator? Was there one nearby? Biting your bottom lip, you looked around confused. Did you interrupt the coach to ask? Surely they were in on this little hunt, or one of the players wouldn’t have had the next card. Stealing your resolve, you strode up to one of the coaches and bowed.

“Excuse me, are there any elevators nearby?” You asked as you straightened up. He nodded and pointed you in the right direction.

“There are dormitories over the road that have elevators. I think that’s where you need to go. Fighting.” He smiled, cheering you on. You returned the smile and nodded.

“Thank you.”

Turning around you made your way in the direction that the coach pointed. It wasn’t long before you got to the building, but you stopped when there was an envelope attached to the keycode box.

Dear Wife, Y/N

Solve this math question for the code and then press #: (5000+631)x2/3

Oh God. Math. You always carried a pencil around in your bag, so you dug around for it and used the card to solve the equation. It wasn’t too hard, you’d had harder questions on the CSAT. Once you had the code, you keyed it in and hit the #. The door beeped so you could push it open and make your way to the elevators. Pressing the button, you step back and wait for the elevator to arrive. Once the doors open, you see a cute mailbox standing in the middle of the elevator floor.

This little treasure hunt had helped to make your nerves lessen, but you were beginning to grow restless. You quickly opened the envelope and read the riddle.

Dear Wife, Y/N

Well done on this hunt so far, just one more step and you’ll find your star.

A thousand wheels, but move I do not. Call me what I am, call me a lot.

What am I?

Grinning, you pressed the button that would take you down to the carpark. When the door opens, a black van is parked in front of you. You waited for a beat for the door to open but it didn’t. Was this even the right place to go? Hesitantly you stepped forward, maybe you had to open the door. As you took that first timid step, however, the door opened on its own and out stepped a familiar face.

“You.” You replied, slightly in shock.

“Me.” Kim Taehyung replied with a grin, looking just as shocked but pleased. With a blush, you stepped forward and held out your hand.

“It’s nice to see you again, Taehyung-ssi.” You said politely with a bow. He took your hand and gave it a warm squeeze as he returned the bow, unable to take his eyes off you.

“Y/N-ssi, you look beautiful.” His voice was soft, almost like a whispered prayer, before he blurted out “I’m glad it’s you.”

You both blushed, him at his bold words and you because you were flattered and more than a little pleased it was him standing before you as well - not that you’d let him know that, but you laughed together anyway.

“So, what would you like to do to celebrate our first day of marriage?”

How will you answer?

Take wedding photos

Have a wedding meal

A/N Each point will become a link when they become available. Thank you for your patience!

#kpop scenarios #kpop scenario #bts scenario #bts scenarios #choose your own romance scenario #cyorbtsdislstifair

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i-got-that-fandom-kinda-love · 5 years

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A to Z favourite TV show challenge! Or # to Z?

# - 30 Rock (Liz Lemmon! This is just all kinds of hilarity).

A - Ally McBeal (there's not enough of this on Tumblr btw. I loved it before I understood it - my brother watched and I followed. And then I watched again and I loved it more) / Arrow (so years ago I started watching this because of Tumblr. You guys were obsessed with Olicity and I was too even though I hadn't watched the show. So I watched it. Thank you for ruining my life btw) / Accidentally in Love (Asian Series, sup, @netflix - thanks for getting me addicted to Asian series - I liked them before but now it's just there and begging to be watched AND I CAN'T HELP MYSELF - YOU'VE ADDICTED MY MOTHER TOO).

B - Brooklyn Nine Nine (best thing to happen to me, thank you Tumblr - the nine nine fandom. Also started it a couple years ago and fell in love hard. This show makes me laugh no matter what and it's pure and I love it so much. It's really a show I needed because when I watch series I get really emotionally involved and certain shows leave me so stressed that I have to take a break and all I can watch is comedies for a few weeks. Or months. Depends on how big my heart break was. B99 always makes me laugh and feel lighter). / Buffy the Vampire Slayer (another one from my childhood, you know when you're too young to really understand but old enough to remember it? So yeah, my brother got me hooked at a young age and the addiction stuck. Because I've never been able to forget Buffy. And I've recently been rewatching it with my mother - she too is a bit addicted).

C - Charmed (Original series, not reboot - I haven't even watched the reboot. But yes, Charmed. I remember being up til 10PM on a Monday while I was in primary (middle) school just to watch it. Halliwell sisters are another drug I never could kick - Leo was one of my first ever crushes - my very first crush was Shahrukh Khan and if we're ever talking Bollywood movies he'll be all over that post).

D - Doctor Who (Okay! I only started watching from season 5, again cos NETFLIX - the Doctor and Amy Pond - man, just lock me up in the TARDIS and take me away already. ALSO one of the series that broke my heart enough that rendered me incapable of watching any other series except comedy).

E - Ek Hazaroon Mein Meri Behna Hai (Hindi series; my sister is one in a thousand - I assume it's the name because that sounds better in Hindi than one in a million or billion. There's something about Hindi series that sucks you in and tortures you until you're on the brick of exploding from suspense - the build up is both infuriating and renders you unable to tear your eyes away).

F - Friends ('Cause it's been there for me and how can I not? Again, childhood. Also. Heroes get remembered but legends never die. And I've watched every episode like a gazillion times and laugh just the same - I think even more 'cause I know what's gonna happen. I'm one of those people). / Fairy Tail (Anime. Magic. Friendship. Friendship. Friendship. It's one of those rare shows that has a lot of characters and manages to make you love each one of them. I found it after high school but I love it to bits).

G - Gilmore Girls (I remember the first time I watched this as a kid, Rory and Lorelei were sitting at Luke's diner and chatting about something and I though they were sisters. I was at my cousin's house and I just couldn't stop watching them. Loved it ever since. And it's strange how a randomly watching TV can just change your life - 'cause you know, I obsess) / Gossip Girl (at first, I'd watched it because Kristen Bell was the voice of Gossip Girl. And I needed anything related to anything Veronica Mars. And then I naturally loved it like everybody else. Also disappointed at who GG really was. So yeah.)

H - How I Met Your Mother (At first I really, really loved it, now though it's not so high on my favourite list but it does still make me laugh - cos Barney. The final episode was so disappointing). / Hannah Montana (because if I was 13 or 16 this would have made the list. And I still love the show. My heart swells everytime my bestie sings True Friend to me. I still love Hannah Montana music okay).

I - iZombie (Rob Thomas. He's the reason I tried it out. Liv is the reason I stayed. Also Ravi. And also Major. Okay, dude, characters and plot is right on point) / Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon (Hindi series; what name do I give to this love? Its unnecessarily complicated but gosh those complications kept me on edge, staring at the screen, waiting for those idiots to realise the truth. Opposites attract. Hate to love to hate to love. They did it so well).

J - Joan of Arcadia (okay so I remember really loving this when I was younger - I haven't rewatched it as an adult but I feel like I'll still love it. I mean, come on, what if God was one of us?)

K - Kim Possible (Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me? Ultimate cartoon. Hands down. Second best is The Life and Times of Juniper Lee - she's basically the cartoon Buffy - the Chosen One - though it's hereditary instead of random? And also more fun and less heartache 'cause it's a cartoon).

L - Lucifer (Man, Lucifer. You got the guy telling everyone he's the devil and they think he's talking in metaphors? It's just hilarious to me. Detective. Romance. Snark. Supernatural. Also, Hello, Adult Tom Welling - can I even describe how excited I was to see him? Smallville, man).

M - Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir (One of the few new cartoons that I watch and love. This is just so cute and the love square is just so cute and everything is just so cute. And like we need cute stuff in our lives. Frustrating cos how oblivious can one be but also why you so cute Marinette Dupain Chang and Adrian Agreste aka Ladybug and Cat Noir)/ Malcolm in the Middle (Childhood. Childhood. Childhood. I'm not the middle child but I relate).

N - Naruto (Anime. Okay, childhood yes, also teenagehood and adulthood. Guy's been with me through everything, believe it. This show just means so much to me and I'm thankful that I got to grow up with him. Thank you, Kishimoto).

O - One Day At a Time (THANK YOU, NETFLIX! This is just one of the greatest shows on right now. I love comedy. I didn't expect it to be so emotional too. But damn it gets you right in the feels. My brother claims I'm exactly like Elena and our nephew is like Alex. I honestly don't mind. Elena is badass and strong as hell.)

P - Psych (It's just awesome? It's clever, it's funny, Shawn and Gus. The dramatics in extremely serious situations will never not make grin like a mad woman. Also private investigation shows seem to a weakness of mine. ) / Parks and Recreation (okay I never thought I'd like a mockumentary kind of series but this happened and proved me wrong and I just love this show and it's characters). / Pyaar Ka Dard Hai Meetha Meetha Pyara Pyara (Hindi Series; the pain of love is sweet and loveable. When your parents set you up with someone and you're like no way in hell and they're like okay but they you become best friends and fall in love and yeah. The name says it all, really). / Pinocchio (Asian series - one of the more complicated ones but I simply just loved these characters and actors to bits after watching it).

Q - Quantico (it's not really one of my favourites but I couldn't think of anything else and I do enjoy it. Priyanka Chopra has always been a fav since forever - Bollywood was life before I was even old enough to understand English - but it's because of this that I can understand Hindi without needing subtitles).

R - Rizzoli & Isles (who wouldn't love a show with two best friends kicking ass in the work place). / Revenge (I watched it cos I liked Emily from Everwood but the story was so intriguing and I just got addicted. It wasn't like anything I've ever seen). / Refresh Man (Asian series - officially my favourite Asian series of all time - again, thank you Netflix. Also ever since I've loved both Aaron Yan and Joanna Tseng and I'm on a mission to watch everything they've ever acted in - do you see my obsessing tenancies?).

S - Supergirl / Supernatural / Suits / Smallville (Okay! There's too many shows that start with an S. Smallville was my gateway into the superhero show - movie - comic obsession. And also I'm getting tired of commenting on everything).

T - The Good Place / The Office (US) / The Flash/ Teen Wolf (also too many with a T!)

U - Ugly Betty

V - Veronica Mars (of all time!! Man, again, random TV viewing = life changing TV show that sticks with you forever and Veronica Mars has definitely affected me way more than any other show. I couldn't get it out of my head ever since 2007! I waited for every Thursday just to watch it and naturally Thursday became my favourite day of the week - not Friday like normal scholars - nope. I think it's the way that it ended that contributed to my obsession - so much questions left unanswered and to a 12 year old girl the most important thing is of course that LoVe hadn't officially gotten back together. My mind wrote and rewrote endings and scenarios. Then I discovered fanfiction. And then I started writing. Veronica Mars made me a junkie but also helped me discover my passion. It's not just the show that makes it my #1 but the journey it's taken me on while it was on air and especially when it was off air. ALSO THE SHOW IS SIMPLY AMAZING EVEN WITHOUT ALL MY EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT - also one of the shows that I started watching and then my brother got hooked onto it).

W - What's Wrong With Secretary Kim? / Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo/ W: two worlds apart (all Asian series - OKAY, NETFLIX IS BLAMED FOR ALL OF THIS)

X - Is there anything but X-Men? I wouldn't really put the series on my favourite list but I do watch the X-Men cartoons and I have enjoyed it so imma let it be.

Y - Young Sheldon (Too smart for his own good Cooper.) / Yankee-kun to Megane-chan (Asian series - okay, this one can't be put on Netflix. It's the first Asian drama series I'd watched because of a manga that I loved).

Z - Zoey101 ('Cause there's nothing else I can think off and I enjoyed it when I was younger. I remember putting 101 after all of my usernames for everything).

So when I thought of this I thought I'd put one name for each alphabet but it didn't work out that way 'cause I obsess over everything.

I would love to get to know more about everyone's favourite shows. I'm tagging based on the Tumblr likes thing (also on my @marshmallowatheart account) and also urls I remember seeing often on the activity cos I wanted to tag as much people as possible. I'd have been cool if I could have went with the a - z for tagging but it's not working out like I wanted so next best. (Also if I didn't tag you and you wanna do it, please go for it, I'm really into this).

Anyone who wants to do this can and whoever doesn't want to it's cool! It takes time to think especially when you have to pick between things so if you want to, add as many as you like. You don't have to add comments on it if you don't want to, I just got carried away! And then got tired.

@poppy-in-the-woods @risssaar @stephaniecatlover @ihaveathingformeninwaistcoats @write-to-feel @mediocre-mee @jenilyn2000 @lalacristina18 @cainc3 @mrskissytaylor @anilcadz91 @elliebear75 @troublescout @hanitjemars @susanmichelin @cheshirecatstrut @firedragonmon

#a to z tv show challenge #get to know you meme #okay apparently theres a 30 tag limit so okay #about me #tv shows #favourite tv shows #explanations no one asked for #tag me id really love to read all your favs

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ikesenhell · 6 years

Text

Darkness and Diners

This is the Professional Integrity series, part two. For all other parts and additional IkeSen works by me, see here.

She bought an RV the next day. It wasn’t a large thing, nor top of the line, but it was convenient and easy. A small kitchen, a shower in the bathroom, a loft bed over the driver’s cab, an extension to make the living room larger when parked, a pull out bed in the couch, and a fold down bed over that.

“Are you going to christen it?” Mitsuhide joked.

“What?” Her eyes were wide. “What do you mean?”

“Like a boat before a maiden voyage. You know.” He mimicked breaking a bottle of champagne against the side. “It’s bad luck if it doesn’t have a name.”

“Hm.” The Princess patted her hand along the sides, obviously fond of it already. “I don’t know yet. I think it’ll name itself.”

What a cute sentiment. He shrugged. “Your choice. Where are we going?”

At that, she laughed. “You’re going to hate me.”

“It doesn’t matter much to me, Princess, I’m in contract to you for the next eight months either way.”

“Aw.” A long silence passed between them. “Well, I was thinking I’d just... find out where I’m going.”

Laughing, he rubbed back some of his pale hair. “You’re not much for planning, are you?”

“I am, but...” Her voice trailed off into nothing and finally, she eased her head to the side. “I dunno, I just think I’ll find out where I’m going.”

Well, at least one of them had faith in more abstract things.

Sasuke volunteered to come with them for the first leg of the journey. “We could drive out to Arizona. I have a friend in Tuscon, Yukimura.”

“Yuki? From college?” Teasingly, the Princess hip checked him, dragging a duffle bag into the RV around the men. “That ass?”

“He’s a good guy.”

“I know, I’m just making fun. He’s just not good at coming off like a good guy is all.”

Sasuke didn’t argue that, just shoved his glasses back up his nose. “And from Phoenix, I can fly back in to Los Angeles and get back to work.”

“I wish you could come the whole time.” The Princess settled down into the driver’s seat, adjusting it to her specifications. “That would be a kick.”

“From what I understand, you mean to be on the road a few months.”

She sighed, smiling sweet and sad and gentle at Sasuke, and Mitsuhide wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that himself. “Yeah. It just would be fun is all, if it were possible.”

“We’ll make the most of it.” Sasuke’s face didn’t exactly move, but his enthusiasm was palpable nonetheless. “I think Yuki wants to throw a bit of a party when we get there.”

“Oh, god.” She laughed. “He’s gonna get me tanked, isn’t he?”

“Sounds like my kind of a party,” Mitsuhide chuckled.

“Jesus, I’m sorry if you see me like that. I’m a mess when drunk.”

He grinned lopsided at her, settling into the passenger seat. “That only makes me the more intrigued.”

“Tsk.” She settled a hand over his shoulder and squeezed it affectionately, and his heart thumped painfully. What the hell was that reaction? He did his best to shove it from his mind. “Don’t be awful. Are we ready back there, Sasuke?”

“All clear.”

They pulled out of the driveway into the sinking sun, beeping the horn to part the throng of fans from the gate. As it rattled shut behind them and they set onto the road, she flipped on Running On Empty by Jackson Browne.

“You know what we need? A Cracker Barrel.”

“A what?” Mitsuhide settled into the diner booth only after scanning the whole area with his eyes, and even then, he settled on the very edge of the seat next to her, ready to take action at a second’s notice. They were on the border of California, the small hours of the morning pale and grey in the windows. A few sleepy patrons scuffled around the old fashioned bar, sipping coffee.

“A Cracker Barrel.” The Princess unfolded her menu, eyeing the breakfast food. Her eyes were tired and swollen, but it was no worse than it had been of late, and she seemed at least in slightly better spirits.

“It’s sort of a themed restaurant,” Sasuke explained. “They’re common in the southeast. They’re supposed to be ‘Old Fashioned’ and serve good breakfast.”

“I mean, the breakfast isn’t even all that great, it’s really the biscuits. But it’s kind of a road trip tradition for me, so to speak. I don’t know.” At least she was smiling. “What are you going to have, Mitsuhide?”

“Let’s see.” He flipped open the menu, absently scanning for anything that looked both filling and cheap, and... “Dear Lord, am I going to have to say that out loud? I’ll just point to it.”

She wriggled over by him, her cheek rested against his shoulder to see the title, and laughed aloud. “Oh my god. Please.”

“Oh, ‘please’?” On a habit, he shot her a broad, slithery grin. “And what are you begging me so nicely for?”

“I have to hear you say that.”

He hummed in amusement. “Why’s that?”

“Cause you have such a great, deep voice, and I’m tickled just imagining you saying that seriously.”

“You do have a very Shakespearean delivery to your sentences,” Sasuke noted, and Mitsuhide figured that was a compliment.

“Can I get you all something?” The waitress emerged by his elbow, pad at the ready and stifling a yawn.

“Could I get the western omelet, please?” She asked.

“An egg, over easy, with a side of toast,” Sasuke added, “If it’s no trouble, please.”

Mitsuhide shot his eyes sideways at the Princess, who was biting down on her lip to keep down the laughter, and he decided in the moment it was worth it. Clearing his throat, he announced--as smoothly and deeply as he could, lending every inch of theatrical gravitas he could muster-- “I’ll take the ‘Hungry Hombre’.”

And that--that broke her. She clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling the laughter that spilled forward, and suddenly she was laughing so hard that she wasn’t making any sound at all. The waitress just cast a bemused stare and walked off to punch in their order. Clutching his arm, the Princess struggled for breath, petering back into laughter, then giggles, then hugging him tight around his shoulders.

It was the most he’d ever seen her laugh.

“Oh my god,” she managed, wiping tears from her eyes.

“You must be tired, if that made you laugh that much,” he commented lightly. Something warm stirred in his stomach, wrapping tight around him. “Perhaps I should drive from here on out.”

“Ahh, if that’s what you want to do.” But she smiled at him, brighter than he’d ever seen, and he told himself he’d say a thousand ridiculous platter titles if it made her that happy.

God knew she deserved it.

Yukimura lived in a rancher on a small subdivision squarely between Tuscon and Phoenix--which, in Arizona parlance, meant ‘in the middle of the goddamn desert’. Apparently he’d been expecting them, because when the RV rolled up at his driveway around dinnertime, he emerged in the doorway, holding back the leash of a large, excitable German Shepherd.

“Down, boy!” He grunted, wrestling his dog back into good behavior. “Hey, Sasuke! Princess!”

“Yuki, hi!” She bounded from the RV and stretched hard, rushing to the dog. “Awww, who is this cutie?”

“I call him Kuro.” The man--man? He looked younger than Sasuke--fixed his bright eyes on Mitsuhide. “And you’re the bodyguard?”

“Mitsuhide Akechi.”

“Yukimura Sanada. Come on in. Guess who else came?”

“Do tell.” The Princess followed him in, glancing around the narrow hallway, and--“Oh my god, Shingen?”

“You say that like I wouldn’t have crossed heaven and earth to see you.” A huge, huge beast of a man emerged from the living room, heading straight for her. On reflex, Mitsuhide wedged himself between the two of them.

“Mitsu,” she laughed, patting his arm. “It’s okay, you’re kind of off the clock.”

“Who is this?” The redhead was a little less massive closer up, but he was still a veritable tree.

“Mitsuhide, he’s my bodyguard.”

“Fancy.” Another voice drawled in the living room, satin and sour all at once. Perched on the couch was another man, blue and green mismatched eyes vibrant in the setting desert sun. “I take it that’s just a result of your new, high-flying lifestyle.”

“Hi, Kenshin.” She smiled at him, picking at her sweatshirt that read VIRGINIA BEACH across the chest. “I’m sure I look like the best of Hollywood right now.”

The blonde just sniffed, his eyes flitting between them, and lifted the glass he was holding in his hands. “I’ve already started drinking. You’re late.”

“I told you to wait,” Yuki huffed, finally letting Kuro off the leash. “Sasuke, without you to handle him, Kenshin’s getting downright stir crazy.”

Kenshin frowned. “I do not need handling.”

“Of course you don’t,” Sasuke soothed expertly, joining the other men in the living room. “Well, I suppose we need to catch up on the drinks, then.”

Mitsuhide was thankful, not for the first time, for his incredibly high alcohol tolerance, because it seemed like Kenshin had an impossible one.

“You’re the only one keeping up with me,” he huffed, taking another shot and trying to shuffle a completely soused Sasuke off his shoulder. “What was your name again?”

“Mitsuhide.”

Either Kenshin hadn’t really cared about his name, or he had a short attention span, because he turned almost immediately to the Princess. “How was James in the end?”

She paused where she sat in the floor, petting Kuro’s soft ears and waiting for Shingen and Yuki to return with Cards Against Humanity, and Mitsuhide watched the faint smile she’d been holding slip from her mouth.

“He...” She sighed. “He was comfortable.”

“Hm.”

A long, long silence. The Princess swayed where she sat, tipsy from vodka and sprite, and cupped her face in her hands, meeting Kenshin’s gaze. “I mean, what can I say? He was in hospice a few weeks. I slept by his bed and got him food he liked, told him stories, read him books. We listened to The Adventure Zone like, four times.”

“But?” Kenshin prodded. Mitsuhide had heard it too, the unspoken end of a sentence she hadn’t begun.

“But... I don’t know, Kenshin.” She sighed, tracing circles in the carpet with her finger. “I just wish I could go back and stop him from being diagnosed that late. He’d been having issues with his stomach for years, I... I dunno.”

The blonde was silent a long, long, long time. Finally, he got up. “Give me your cup. What were you drinking?”

“Uh, vodka and sprite?” She handed it to him, confused. Crossing to the counter, Kenshin fixed the drink with calm precision, presenting it to her. “Hey. Thank you.”

“You did what you could.” He settled back in on the couch as the other two barged back in the room, card game in hand. “You cannot be faulted for it not being enough.”

At last, only he and Kenshin were sober, and the rest were passed out. Yuki was splayed out on the ground, wrapped around Kuro. Shingen had claimed the only arm chair to kick back in. The Princess and Sasuke had formed a little cuddle pyramid against each other, each bolstering the other up on the couch.

Mitsuhide wondered what the hell was wrong with the weird surge of affection and jealousy swirling around in his stomach. Best to blame it on the alcohol.

Still--he picked up the blanket from the side of the couch and draped it gently over her body, tucking it in around where he felt her arms were chill and bare. She stirred, but didn’t move, thoroughly wasted.

“Bodyguard, hm?”

Mitsuhide straightened and fixed his eyes back on the other man, sitting like a statue on the couch still.

“You must have the constitution of Bacchus,” Mitsuhide joked thinly. “Yes. Bodyguard.”

Kenshin stared at him so long and hard that he wondered if he were being intimidated, so he fixed a smile on his lips and just stared right back.

“Can I help you?”

“Do you think she’ll find relief from grief on a road trip?” His voice was so tired and raw and angry that Mitsuhide sensed the pulsing edge of something personal.

“Who can say?”

“I’m asking you.”

“That’s my answer.” He settled in along the kitchen counter and delved his hands in his jean pockets, watching her sleep. It was the most deeply she’d slept in months, and it settled his soul. “It’s an awfully loaded question to ask me. Maybe she’s not looking for relief.”

“What else would it be?”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “I’m a man with simple and few attachments, simply dedication. If I had to take a hard guess, I’d say she’s the kind of woman with the spirit and bravery to lean into that tide, not out of it.”

Kenshin fell silent at last. Behind them, the sun rose like a melt of fire.

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inawickedlittletown · 6 years

Text

Walking The Wire (52/?)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

Masterpost

Chapter Fifty One

There seemed to be a lot going on inside Tony Stark’s workshop when Peter was allowed inside by Friday. There was music blaring -- something loud and hard that Peter was sure Uncle Ben had listened to and that made Peter wince because it was so loud. Thinking about Uncle Ben hurt a little, especially in light of Tony Stark being his father because Uncle Ben ad tried to tell him with his last words and when Peter didn’t let him he had never expected to ever find his father or even get to know him.

Mr. Stark was working on something to do with the Spider-Man suit, Peter realized as he stepped further inside. He was too busy to notice that Peter had entered but one of the bots did and wheeled over to him and Peter laughed because it was just a robot but it was cute and Peter reached out to touch it and then it was gone again and Peter watched as it grabbed what looked to be a blender cup and wheeled towards Mr. Stark.

“Dum-E, I am not hungry,” Mr. Stark said without even looking up, “put that back before I donate you to charity. Not sure any will take you, but there is a chance.”

Dum-E beeped and Peter thought the robot sounded a little sad as he rolled to set the blender cup down elsewhere. Whatever was inside didn’t really look appetizing so Peter understood why Mr. Stark didn’t want it.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said, stepping closer.

Mr. Stark didn’t seem to hear him and Peter could tell that the man was in his element so Peter figured it was probably better to just let him work. Instead he looked around the workshop a little more. It really was an amazing space.

Peter didn’t know if Mr. Stark had gone to bed at all the night before since he never saw or heard him leave the workshop. But, then, Peter had actually fallen asleep in the living room until he woke up in the middle of the night and Friday led him to one of the bedrooms and the most comfortable bed that Peter had ever slept on. Peter had woken up there a little confused just a few minutes earlier, but everything had flooded in and Peter found that he was feeling a little bit better about everything. He just still needed some more time to figure out what would come next. He pressed his hands against his ears as he walked around the workshop and wondered if Friday would lower the volume if he asked.

He ended up not having to ask because suddenly the music died down and Mr. Stark was looking up at a screen and a woman that Peter recognized as Pepper Potts appeared there. She wore a business suit, had her hair tied back and more put together than anyone that Peter had ever seen before.

“Hey, Pep, what’s going on?” Mr. Stark asked.

“I did a bit of digging around. I’ll send you everything I managed to find on The Raft. I just don’t know how that’ll come in handy to you because you can’t do the rescuing yourself and currently we’re not going to get anywhere even if we get all of the SI lawyers on this.”

Mr. Stark sighed. “I think Steve will take care of the rescuing for us. I just hope that Ross isn’t trying to use The Raft as bait. I’ll have to get some of this to Steve and offer as much help as we can. I know where he is so I’ll find a way.”

“That sounds like you’ve thought this through. How are you with that? Are you--”

Mr. Stark cut her off. “I’m fine. I’m more than fine. Have you heard from Fury yet? He’s not returning my calls and Hill hasn’t answered my emails which is typical.”

Ms. Potts didn’t seem to care that Mr. Stark was brushing off her first question. “Maybe they’re more on Steve’s side than yours,” Ms. Potts said.

Mr. Stark laughed. “Wouldn’t put it past them, but we’ll need their help if we’re going to try and work around this mess. I did hear from Helen Cho. There’s really nothing more they can do. She’s going to personally oversee his transfer.”

Peter didn’t want to interrupt the conversation, but he felt bad about listening in on Mr. Stark’s conversation. It was just hard to move and try to get a word in to make Mr. Stark notice that he was there.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Ms. Potts said.

“It shouldn’t have come to that,” Mr. Stark said and shook his head. “It just means I’ll have to fix it.”

“Have you spoken to Rhodey?”

“Not really. I don’t know what I would say--”

“And how’s Peter?” Ms. Potts asked.

Peter’s head snapped up at the sound of his name. He hadn’t expected for Mr. Stark to tell anyone about him. It made him wonder about who else might know. Did The Avengers know?

“According to Friday he’s fine. Slept well enough last night even though some of it was on a couch. I really -- I don’t know what I’m doing here. But, he’s great, Pep, he’s just so great. I always knew that but it’s different now I know him.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Ms. Potts said. “You always do and anyway, I think you’re doing well so far. I’ll call if I have anything else to add and keep me updated on Rhodey. Also, Peter’s just behind you so that seems like a good sign.” Then Ms. Potts was gone and Mr. Stark turned around, looking surprised.

“Um, I’m sorry,” Peter said at once. “Friday let me in and then the music was too loud but you said I could come in here and--”

Mr.Stark grinned at him. “Don’t worry about it. You’re welcome in here any time unless it’s on lockdown. Anyway, Friday could have told me you were here when you walked in and she didn’t so really it’s on her.”

“Right,” Peter said and let out a breath. He had never felt so awkward in his life.

“I’ve been working on a few updates for your suit,” Tony said, turning back to his work.

“Oh,” Peter said.

It was mostly precautions. Protocols to protect Peter in any circumstance that Tony could think of because a part of him wanted to just take the suit away and tell Peter that he couldn’t go out as Spider-Man anymore. But Tony knew that it would be a contradictory message after taking him to Germany. In part, Tony could admit that it wasn’t even the dangerous aspect of what Peter did that was bothering him -- he was well aware of how capable Peter was and what his powers gave him -- it was that Tony wasn’t sure how low a profile Peter could keep.

“Does that mean -- am I keeping the suit?”

“Of course you’re keeping the suit,” Tony said and turned to look at him. “Kid, I made this for you. As much for my own peace of mind as it is because you’re not especially talented with a needle.”

“I tried my best,” Peter said.

Tony let himself smile a little. “Yeah, you probably did and I can admit that you weren’t doing too badly for yourself.” He stared at Peter for a long moment and frowned. “Did you have breakfast yet?”

“No. Just woke up,” Peter said and before he lost the courage to: “I think I’m ready to talk about--” he waved his hands “--everything.”

“Sure, sure,” Tony said.

Peter took a deep breath. He didn’t really know how to explain himself. “I don’t -- I don’t really know what this means. I don’t know what you want from me, I guess? I wasn’t looking for my father. We were doing this project in school. Blood typing and punnett squares and I figured it out -- there was no way Richard Parker could be my father. I never thought I would ever figure out who it was and you’re the last person I thought it might be and now…”

Tony could see how nervous and unsure Peter was and yet he was trying not to let that show. Tony was a little surprised about the whole punnett square thing but then again Peter would be smart enough to figure it out that way. Tony was sure that if Peter had actually suspected that Tony and he were related that he would have also found a way to get Tony’s DNA and test it.

Peter seemed to be waiting for him to speak and Tony knew that he had to take everything a bit slower. Maybe he had thrown too much at Peter.

“I wanted you to know, Peter, because I didn’t want to keep that secret from you now that we’ve met,” Tony said and it hurt a little to not just shove all his emotion out at Peter and yet he was realizing that maybe Peter wasn’t ready to know the extent to which Tony cared for him.

“Okay,” Peter said and nodded.

Tony smiled at him. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time but it never worked out. Part of it was me being who I am -- being Iron Man. Your Uncle came up with the idea of the letters as a way to make it so we could have some contact with each other. He was a good man, Peter, and he always wanted the best for you.”

“He came up with the idea,” Peter whispered, surprised. “But that was years ago. Why couldn’t --”

“Peter, the circumstances made it very difficult and we didn’t want -- we didn’t want to tell you the truth if you and I couldn’t meet in person. Anyway, that was then and I’ve finally met you and you know the truth.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, but he was frowning a little and Tony didn’t know what to make of that, but he decided that he might as well finish with what he wanted to say.

“I know you’re not sure where this leaves us and I’m not much better. I don’t want to add any pressure on you. It’s the last thing you need on top of Spider-Man and everything else and I do understand that, Peter, and you can have as long as you want to decide what you want here -- if you want me in your life as more than just a weird eccentric mentor. But I want you to know I’m here for anything. It doesn’t matter the time, the place, or anything else, I’m here. For you, I will always be here whether it be Peter problems or Spider-Man problems. I just wanted you to know and it’s shocking and strange but it’s the truth and I’m game for whatever you want this to mean.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Peter said after a long silence.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Tony said and decided that it was probably better to just change the subject and let Peter think on all of that. “Now come on, you have to explain to me about why you thought it was smart to email me questions about spiders? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Peter actually laughed and some of the worry seemed to fall off his shoulders. “I didn’t know who else to ask,” Peter said. “Also, I kind of wanted you to figure it out, I think, and anyway the idea came from Oscorp because they were working on it and they showed us a bit of it on that field trip and I would have asked even if I didn’t get bitten by a spider.”

“But you did get bitten and decided that you would still ask,” Tony said with a grin. This kid really was something else.

Peter shrugged.

Tony also suddenly realized that he had never looked into the whole spider bite thing. He hadn’t questioned Peter further on it or tried to make sure that he really was alright and that he wasn’t going to end up with some weird side effects.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked.

Tony shook his head. That would be something for later. “It did help,” Tony said, “once I was trying to figure out who Spider-Man was. I thought maybe you had found the webbing or seen Spider-Man. Bit of a surprise when it turned out that my son was Spider-Man, but I guess we’re not so different after all.”

Peter looked unsure again, but then he seemed to push past it. “My aunt always said that I was a lot like my father. I took it to be Richard but she knew he wasn’t my father so she was talking about you. She knew it was you.”

It felt almost like Peter was trying get confirmation that May and Ben did know -- although it had all been implied already -- and Tony figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it to him.

“They knew,” Tony said, “your mother must have told them. Mary made them your guardians in case anything happened to her and Richard and she must have told them about me as well at some point.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “She didn’t think you’d want to take me in if-- when they died?”

Tony shrugged. “I was a completely different person when your mother knew me. I wouldn’t have been good for you or any kid back then. I was a mess.”

“Right,” Peter nodded, and Tony hoped that Peter would never understand the extent to the mess that Tony had been back then.

“Anyway. Breakfast, come on. You’re a growing spider-boy.”

Chapter Fifty Three

#peter and tony #iron dad and spider son #iron dad #iron dad fic #peter and tony fic #mcu #mcu fic #marvel #marvel fic #stony

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yesyunniechan · 6 years

Text

Detective Conan File 1007 [Japanese to English Translation]

Conan is back :3

Shinichi is in a big dilemma

And the Detective Boys, in turn

Have to solve the case alone

[Please keep things tidy and in order...]

[...is what it says.]

M: Is it saying to 'clean this room'?

H: No...

H: Since this memo was supposedly stuck to the book shelf...

H: Maybe it's saying to line up the scattered books on the book shelf properly?

G: Buut... Which book goes where?

A: Looks like the big books would only really fit in at the lower shelf...

H: Maria-chan must've used those big encyclopedias like a stool...

H: We can probably ignore them...

[The Detective Boys have to find their classmate without Conan's help!]

H: Which means basically... We should try to...

H: Line up those 82 manga volumes, starting with the first, from the left edge of the top shelf to the bottom...

A: But, but aren't there volumes without a dust cover?

G: It's probably not the complete collection...

M: Besides, the shelf with the weird box...

M: Prevents the books from fitting...

H: Anyway, Maria-chan didn't come to school today, so...

H: Before she came to school, she must have come here and did what her grandmother's notes said, but she probably got stuck in one of the rooms... There's a chance that she was locked in here for over 6 hours!

H: That's why we should tidy up those manga volumes as quickly as possible, just as the note said!

H: And think about the rest later!

G: Ok!

A: Right!

M: Let's all split up into groups and start lining them up!

[Oi... That's risky, professor...]

TN: Translator was saved from using ‘we’re fucked’ at the last minute, but still tempted to

C: They even brought an OB Van...

C: But to think...

C: That one tweet would cause such an uproar...

C: Even though there weren't even any photos of (Kudo Shinichi) me there...

A: This must be why!

A: Take a closer look at this...

A: The news report about... the Tengu Murder Case two days ago!

A: They caught you and Hattori-kun standing behind the reporter!!

C: Oi-oi-oi, that's clearly an image of us!!

A: Since the rumour about your death has spread so unexpectedly... It's caused this uproar...

C: Hm?

[Pilili pilili]

C: A call from Hattori?

C: Hell... (unfinished hello)

H: YA IDIOT!!!

H: Mass media folks are storming my school and demanding to 'tell 'em all 'bout Kudo', making a huge fuss in the process!!

H: Ya said that ya'd keep yer mouth shut!!!

C: Both of us were caught on TV...

H: Anyway, I'll try to think of somethin' here...

H: Ya gotta do somethin' to settle things on yer side!!

H: Well then!

C: Do something, huh... What am I supposed to do?

[Click]

[WTF is this SFX]

[No way...]

M: Even though we tried to line up all the volumes...

G: Still nothing...

A: But it looks like each shelf can fit 30 volumes...

A: And only 4 volumes in the middle of the 1st and 2nd shelves didn't have their covers!

M: But the third shelf is in disorder, right?

M: We had to make the books lean in order to fit them, all because of this box...

G: How about we take this glued box off?

H: No... This box is a keyword...

H: If the volumes lean not in the same direction...

H: But in a V-shape...

A: T-that's an arrow!

G: Cool!!

G: But why is it pointing down?

M: Maybe there's a storage room under the floor or something of like that?

H: The basement!!

[Eh?]

H: The room right under this arrow...

H: Must have something...

H: Let's go!

[Hey, Ran!]

S: Look, look! Outside the window!

R: Outside the window?

S: Don't you think that's a lot of press?

R: Maybe something happened?

Se: What's happened is that your boyfriend...

Se: Is now a big internet and tabloid TV show sensation!!

R: Eh? Shinichi? Why?!

So: Did you just admit that Shinichi-kun is your boyfriend without any hesitation? Missus~ <3

R: W-well... S-since it is true now...

T: Take your seats!

T: The class has started!

[It appears that right under this arrow...]

M: There's this room..

[Click]

[Lights on]

A: What a cute room <3

A: That's probably the room...

A: In which Maria-chan stayed during her visits, right?

G: Don't you think it's cold here?

M: Well, it is the basement...

M: So? The next arrow...

H: I can't find an arrow, but...

H: There's a note on her bedside table, see?

H: 'With this it's easier to visit the bathroom at night'...

H: ...which means to switch this lamp on before sleeping, so...

H: Can you please turn off this room's light?

M: A, yeah...

[Click]

A: Wah!

G: The room is covered in square patterns...

M: But I can't see the arrow anywhere...

H: Hm?

H: Looks like there used to be something on this side table...

H: Those two marks were probably left...

H: By this picture frame...

H: Then this square mark...

H: Between the lamp and the picture frame...

H: Was left by this doll’s stand, that's lying on the floor...

H: Which means that if I put the doll on those square markings...

H: Is there nothing else that's fallen on the floor?

M: Eh?

G: What about something that didn't fall on the floor, but did fall onto the shelf?

G: This yacht...

H: Then how about you make it stand?

G: Ok!

M: Amazing! The arrow...

A: Appeared!

G: Ooo!

A: Then the next is...

[Run-run-run]

A: The room next to this one...

[Click]

A: This one!

A: Ah?

M: That's the restroom...

M: Ah, but... there's a simple arrow pasted in here!

G: But this arrow...

G: Points only at the bathroom?

M: I'd say that's not a bathroom...

M: But a shower room...

H: There's a note in front of the arrow..

H: 'Please take care of...

H: Bado-chan'... (Bird)

A: Bado-chan?

H: Maybe it's about this toy?

H: Since it has something like a beak...

G: But how are we supposed to take care of this it?

M: What a weird toy...

A: Ayumi doesn't know either...

H: Me too... I have a feeling I've seen this somewhere before, but...

A: Well, since it's come to this...

G: We...

M: Have no other choice but to ask...

[Conan-kun!!]

G: Ye!

H: Eeee...

A: We can't?

G: Why?

M: He knows for sure, right?

A: Conan-kun's cold is over, right?

G: Then how about we call him?

M: We have to find Maria-chan as soon as possible, don't we?

H: I can't stand asking for the help of this promise-breaking man...

H: But how now I have no choice...

[Beep-beep]

[O! I know!]

C: Actually Kudo Shinichi has a younger twin brother...

C: And the one that died was him...

TN: Shinichi, did you read fanfiction again

C: How about we plant this info on the internet?

A: Such lie will be exposed in no time!!

A: Don't you understand, Shinichi-kun?!

A: If the Black Organization finds out you're alive...

C: Yeah.... I know it...

TN: You tell me that in every movie opening...

C: It’s just if i won’t joke around, I might lose it...

C: That’s how nervous I am!

C: Hm? A call?

C: From Haibara?!

C: So?!

C: Have you thought up a plan?!

C: What?!

C: You still haven't found Maria-chan?!

C: Oi-oi, it's evening already?!

C: I see... To find the hidden treasure of her late grandmother who died a few days ago...

C: Maria-chan came to her house before going to school and disappeared...

C: So you followed the arrows that said grandmother left...

C: And reached the bathroom, but...

C: The arrow is just pointing at the shower room, huh....

H: Yes!

H: So make sure to give us your answer quickly...

H: You traitor...

C: 'Traitor'...

A: Conan-kun, please!

M: If we don't find her soon, Maria-chan...

C: But you didn’t take care of it!

C: Of this drinking bird...

H: D-drinking bird?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drinking_bird

[Can they find Maria-chan with that hint?! And how is Conan going to overcome this situation?! Next issue, pay close attention.]

#detective conan #dcmk #detective conan manga #english translation #1007 #how do i tag this again #ran has one page #maria-chan don't die #err #now what #meitantei conan #case closed #how do i tag this #i forgot #yes there's break again #but at least we're searching for maria-chan #and plot is plotting #fixed teh mistake because of course its not yunnie if it doesnt have mistakes

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clarey64-blog · 7 years

Text

Star Struck 4

At four fifty in the afternoon, no customers had come in so Yuko asked Kyo to watch the front and ducked into the bathroom to spruce herself up for the next half of the day. This prepping also might have been for her new coworker, but the process was so ingrained into her routine, work or no, that Yuko forgot the reason she even cleaned herself up half the time. It was just mechanics, a fact of life. She turned to exit after the usual eyeliner, mascara and brush check up. But before she left the bathroom she caught herself with a hand on the doorway. She felt the little square in her pocket and grinned to herself. She would fun today! She used the hand that had stopped her from making such a boring mistake and propelled her body into a spin around. Back to the mirror she went! She took the new eye shadow square from her pocket. It was a bright lime green and would sparkle anyone into submission and might even result in a few up sales this evening. Yuko knew that the color didn’t quite flow with the uniform she was required to wear but she didn’t care. This was her last night to work with Miku and she wanted to make it count. Miku would be there for her even if the look wasn’t exactly a hit. Yuko stepped back from the mirror and examined her face. It wasn’t toooo bad. She flipped a piece of hair back over her shoulder and went back to the front.

“Wow, who called in the show girl?” Kyo said with hands on either sides of his face in fake shock. “Oh wait it’s just Yuko.” His shock dramatically came down with his arms.

“Hey!” Yuko punched him gently on his arm. “Do you like it? You think it says super-size, please?”

Kyo just laughed.

“Well?”

He just stood there in front her with a laugh barely trapped behind his idiotic grin and bulging eyes. The headset on Kyo beeped.

“Ah! Kyo!!” Yuko said. “There’s a car take care of it!” She bent down to prep the take out bag with napkins and straws and forgot to look at the clock whose minute hand ticked on five o’clock. She stood back up and said, “Kadashi I need a McDouble or I’ll shave that stubble!” Honestly, Kadashi shouldn’t be trying to grow a beard. What was he thinking lately?

“Coming right up Yuko.” said a high, light, and hesitant not Kadashi’s voice. That was Miku! Yuko’s heart ran in double-time as she popped her head up over the heating slide. Two round brown eyes crinkled at the sides looked back up at her. The rest of Miku’s face smiled too. Yuko couldn’t help but think of a puppy. A taciturn and awkward puppy but a cute companion nonetheless.

“Oh Miku! I didn’t see you come in! Is it that time already?”

“Ah yeah it is. I’ll have that McDouble out for you real fast!” Miku said in her usual halting manner.

“Thanks!”

A few spins and dip later the order was out the window and away with the happy customer.

“Hey it’s five!”Kyo announced and handed the drivethrough headset to Yuko. “I’ll see you ladies later.” He saluted as he went out the door because his shift was done, a surely satisfied look played on his face. Yuko stole a glance at Miku face, which was scrunched up in the middle. Yep, that’s what Yuko thought too whenever she had to work with Kyo. Luckily, he mostly worked the day shift so he wouldn’t have to annoy Miku too much other than the occasional shift change. Yuko broke the silence of Kyo’s exit when she called back to the grill. “How were your classes today? You had that English class right?”

“Yeah.” Miku scowled. “I have it every day. It’s part of their mindset for language classes. They say that I should be practicing the language daily to keep it. I, myself, don’t think it’s necessary at this level. All they do is feed me ideas about how I should live my life. But I’m the student so I do what they say.”

“What kinds of ideas do they have?” Yuko filled bags for later.

“Oh just like how I should believe that I can’t see the real place that I live in. My professor tells me that I can only perceive a small part of the world around me. It’s supposed to instill patience or something like that.” Miku put a few more cooked patties into a heating tray.

“It sounds like brain washing to me.” Yuko grinned. She herself could believe in a bigger world and often hoped for it, but Miku seemed to like it when Yuko said anything against the English class. Yuko was only happy to oblige.

“My classes were fine, thanks.” Fumiko said with a huff. She was standing right by the fryer and Yuko just noticed that she had been talking around her.

“Oh Fumiko I didn’t see you come in.” Yuko felt a stab of regret puncture her chest.

“It’s alright, I guess.” Fumiko’s eyes scanned the sticky tiled floor. “Oh and nice eye shadow by the way.” Fumiko waved a lazy index finger toward Yuko. Yuko was surprised that she was just a little revolted by the gesture. Wrong person a voice said defiantly in her head. Yuko brushed and fluffed up her bangs vigorously with her fingers. Then who was the right one? She heard a spatula ring out as it hit the surface of the grill a little too hard. She ignored the impulse to fling her head back. The headset beeped loudly in her ear. She was still at work!

The next few hours were busy as dinnertime rushed them into a swirling frenzied beat that quickened and slowed with the hungry crowd. Before Yuko had time to look at the clock and actually understand the time it was 8pm and she was tired. She stared, leaning on the edge of the table that supported the heater, at the clock on the wall behind the grill, willing it to just speak the time to her so that maybe she could understand, but there were no speakers on it so how it could it talk to her? She only came to when a hand snapped its fingers in front of her eyes. Snap!

The world came back into focus. There was only one of everything now and it gradually turned crystal clear. Miku’s four eyes fused into two eyes that stared right at Yuko a few inches from her face. So close. Yuko could smell the carpeted hallways and metal and plastic that made up the interior of Miku’s university. Yuko blinked a few times “Ahhh uhh!”

“There’s a- there’s a-uh” Miku cleared her throat. “There’s a customer up front.” Miku’s expression stayed neutral as she nodded to the counter.

Yuko turned around and saw that there was indeed a customer tapping his hand on the edge of the counter with a weathered hand. He was old with thinning wisps of white hair. Of course that didn’t rattle Yuko too much she usually liked talking with older people and listening to the adventures they had had when they were young. No the part of his face that alarmed her was just the fact that he was Caucasian. He looked left and right and back to into the kitchen to see if anyone would come to help him. She saw all too clearly that color was starting to rise in is face.

“Has he been waiting there long?” Yuko asked frantically.

“No he just got here, but you’d better go fast!” Miku urged her and even gave Yuko a little push.

Yuko remembered her smile as she scrambled up to the cash registrar. She mustn’t forget. Today could be the day! Plus it was just great customer service.

“Itasshimaise! Can I take your order?” Yuko said as brightly as she could.

The man just squinted his eyes. Yuko pointed to a menu on the counter. The man waved it off. He was dressed in a button-up shirt and dress pants. He also carried a side bag. All of these details considered, Yuko thought the man was a professor and had lived in Japan for a while. Maybe he had studied Japanese and wanted to practice with her. Yuko laughed nervously and said, “(Oh I’m sorry!) What would you like to order?”

The man just said something that sounded like a number in English and then some added instructions. But Yuko had never really paid too much attention in English knowing she would not really need it. She hated herself for assuming that right now.

“Shimimasen I didn’t quite understand. Can you repeat that for me?” Her fingers hovered over the order keys. Her smile wilted.

More color collected in the man’s face so that now he was a beet red. He repeated what he had said louder this time and with more emphasis on syllables that still were incomprehensible to Yuko. She felt so helpless. She tried to offer the menu to the man again but he shook his head determined. What else could she do? She ventured a nervous look behind her and landed on Fumiko who went wide-eyed and shook her head while making an “x” with her arms.

The man was disgruntled now. He tapped louder on the counter and said his order a third time through his teeth.

“OK, Sir!” Miku flew up behind Yuko and stepped in behind the registrar. Relief washed over Yuko but then quickly left when she realized Miku had not been trained on the cash registrar yet. Still Miku said a few words in a comedic tone and the man brightened right up. He even laughed while he relayed his order to Miku. Miku turned to Yuko, “He wants a Big Mac but no onions and extra mac sauce. And he wants to supersize it to go.”

Yuko continued to smile nervously as the man watched her type in his request. He addressed Miku again and she in answer pointed to her nametag and said her name at the end of a phrase. He nodded to Yuko and said something in an apologetic tone. Miku nodded her head and gave him a receipt to wait for his order. The man looked at Yuko and said, “sorry.” Yuko nodded back. She went to get the order prepared and Miku went back to her place at the grill.

When the order was done, Miku gave the bag to the man and sent him away with another string of words Yuko wanted so badly to understand. The man left the place with the wave of his hand above his head and a whoosh out the door.

Yuko stopped Miku with a tug on her sleeve before the new employee could go back to her station. Miku’s cheery expression turned back to neutral in the blink of an eye. Still, Yuko wanted to know the situation. There were no more customers at this moment so this was the opportunity. “Thank you so much for helping me! Who was that man and why was he so upset?”

Miku half-smiled. A glint shone in her eyes. “He is a new professor at Kyoto University and he was just shipped in last week. He was sort of forced to come over from a sister university in America. This is the first time he has lived out of his home country and so I think he was a little homesick. I made a joke about the university to get on his good side.” Miku threw her arm to punch Yuko in the arm but chickened out and instead made a raptor-like shape with her appendage. “Heh anyway he wanted to apologize for the way he treated you at first. You got the full brunt of his anger. I think you got that much about it right?”

Yuko smiled back, “Yes, but he didn’t have to be so rude. He’s not the only one that is tired.” She let go of Miku’s sleeve and stretched wide with her arms up high. In the middle of the stretch though she got self-conscious about her body being displayed right in front of Miku and recoiled back into herself. It didn’t really matter though, because Miku was already on her way back to her station.

Yuko thought quickly. How was she going to keep seeing Miku? It wasn’t so important but Miku made Yuko feel safe and adventurous all at the same time with her worldly knowledge. Miku was going somewhere maybe Yuko could go too.

Yuko caught Fumiko looking down at her phone with a private smile. The fry cook didn’t seem to see the manager’s gaze which was fine with Yuko. She quickly checked the front doors. No one else was coming in. The restaurant was quiet so Yuko pushed her luck with the lull. The foreigner had awoken some curiosities in her that she was starting to acknowledge for the first time.

She peered around the heater and cocked her head while she asked, “Miku, have you ever flown on a plane before?” Yuko made sure to flutter her eyes, she was still wearing lime green eye shadow. Would the burger flipper notice?

Miku cleared her throat and grabbed onto the edge of the dressing counter. “Yes, I went to China with my family for vacation a couple years ago.”

“Oh really?! What was it like?”

“China or the plane?”

“The plane ride. Were the stewardesses perfect? And the sight of the earth falling down beneath you thrilling? And China! What city did you go to?” Yuko had brought her whole self around the heater now and was leaning on the dressing counter. Curiosity rushed to the top of her body like soda.

“We went to Beijing. My parents were not interested in introducing me to Shanghai because the capital was more important. I think they were hoping I would make connections somehow even though I was only about fifteen.” Miku made a ridiculous face. Yuko chuckled. Yuko was still curious about the plane ride though.

“Your parents sound…ambitious.” She stated then asked, “What about the plane?”

Miku scrunched her face up like when she had seen Kyo salute out the door. “Flying isn’t my favorite way to travel. I was sick the whole way there and just the thought of the Earth falling away as you said turns my insides.”

“Oh Sorry!” Yuko said. “I just have always wanted to go on a plane ride. I think I would like it.” Yuko thought about the view out of the window about all the buildings she had known and people she had met shrinking down until they practically disappeared. She really loved the look of those perfect women that helped the people on the plane.

“I thought I would like it too actually.” Miku admitted raising her eyebrows that disappeared under her bangs. “But you can’t help being sick. Are you saying you have never been on a plane?”

“Well I haven’t been on a plane yet.” Yuko said. “But I sometimes. Oh no… nothing.” She smiled bright and fluttered her eyelids another time. “I know I’ll get up there someday.”

“Nope you can’t do that.” Miku stated and her eyebrows came back. “What were you going to say? So far I have answered all of your questions. It’s only fair now that you answer mine.”

“Ok ask away.” Yuko opened her hands.

“What were you going to say?”

“When?”

“Just now.”

“I said, ‘ask away’”

Miku narrowed her eyes. “What were you going to say about not having been on a plane yet?”

“It was silly and I never should have started the sentence.” Yuko crossed her arms in defiance. So did Miku.

Yuko’s usually long patience wore thin, so she said, “Oh, alright. I was going to say that sometimes when I ride the bus I pretend that I’m riding on a plane. I close my eyes and imagine that I’m rocketing away from here as fast as I can go!” She swiped her hand through the air and ended up blinding herself with the florescent light on the ceiling.

“Haha careful!” Miku said. Yuko jumped up and sat on the dressing counter and looked down with a toss of her head as Miku continued. “I thought about those things too the night before my family and I left. When we were given our placements, I was sat by an older gentleman from England. My parents nudged me to talk to him and I refused outright. My dad insisted and eventually he used that face with me. You know what I’m talking about?”

Yuko nodded with pursed lips. She knew it all too well. The guilt face. The face that told her she should be ashamed of herself for trying to think of any other possibility other than what her father layed out for her. Of course it didn’t always work hence the McDonald’s job.

“Yeah but we were getting into a small nudging match and the man beside me just so happened to see. Oh man as if he could ever not see it. Right as I was nodding ok the man said hello with a chuckle and so I said hello back. We had a nice conversation where I talked about school and he talked about his school own experience when he was my age.”

“What was his experience like?” Yuko asked. She had never spoken to a foreigner before. Well she had never had a conversation that is.

“Our conversation was a little strained actually. My English was alright then, but he used a few phrases that I didn’t know and I didn’t ask him to explain. I just remember that he spent more time outside than I would ever dare to. After a little while, my dad had to use the restroom and had to get past me and then the man on the end. My dad looked to me to translate and I did.” Miku cracked a little half-smile. Yuko loved that. “You know its crazy.” Mike said reflectively, “You could be sitting right beside someone and still be a million miles away from them.”

“Yeah I guess so. But there is a simple solution to that, you know. You are so lucky that you can talk to foreigners.” Yuko said. She meant it with everything in her. There was so much more she wanted to know and see.

“You could too if you studied” Miku said as if it were the most natural concept in the world.

“Yeah and who is going to teach me?” Yuko looked Miku straight in the eye. “You?”

To Yuko’s surprise, the newly trained employee did not shy away from the manager. Miku had always bent to Yuko’s will in the tiny communications that pass between any two people. Miku had always listened to Yuko when the new employee was corrected without protest or complaint. Miku had always been the one to step aside as they crossed eachother’s paths between the counter and the grill. But now it looked like Miku wasn’t going to back down. The space in Yuko’s chest expanded.

“I can teach you.” Miku said with a little too much intensity for the situation in Yuko’s opinion. “If you are willing to learn.”

It finally clicked with Yuko that this was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She slipped down off the dressing counter playfully.

“I am probably the most willing student you will ever meet.” Yuko answered. “Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Saturday 2pm at the library. I’ll reserve a study room.”

“You got it.”

The glass doors of the McDonald’s slid open and Yuko rushed to take care of the new customer.

The rest of the night passed so much more happily and Yuko even noticed a light step in Fumiko as she sleeved fries and stalked her phone.

At closing time, Yuko slid up to Miku. “So I’ll see you Saturday?” She still couldn’t believe she would be seeing Miku after this.

The new employee looked like she had a twitch in her eye, which she quickly rubbed with her hand. Then she just gathered her lips up and said, “mmmmhmmm,’ while she nodded her head. She swiftly left and headed for Kyoto University. Yuko stood looking after her with a confused look on her face. What was that?

Later, as Yuko waited for her bus, she caught her reflection on the side of the bus stop shelter. The lime green eye shadow shown obvious and completely incongruent with the rest of her. Miku didn’t even notice. Or maybe she did and decided to ignore it like a piece of food in someone’s teeth. She still agreed to teach me, Yuko thought to combat the tiny sadness welling up in her, so I guess it was alright.

Why is it so enticing to wonder what others think of us? Survival instinct comes to my mind but i hope it’s more meaningful than that.

Walking on sunshine- Katrina and the waves

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nohshinwoos · 7 years

Text

Because I was served coffee by the cutest barista, who was new at work, yesterday morning, I got inspired to write this coffee shop Evak AU. Or aka the Evak coffee shop AU that Viki asked for. And also a special thanks to Viki for helping me out when my inspiration was lacking - you’re truly da bomb dot com! This wouldn’t have been possible without you correcting me and hitting me with ideas.

(I put under read more because it got longer than I expected...)

Even walks down the street, his normal way to the local coffee shop. The sun is shining, warming his skin on this cold Saturday morning in April. He looks at the clock on the town square. 9:50. The coffee shop he usually eats breakfast at opens at 10. Even walks slowly down the road, but he still manages to be there five minutes before the coffee shop opens. When the clock finally hits ten, he hears the key in the locker and the door opens. Even, who's stood with his back towards the door, quickly turns around. And what meets him is this beautiful boy, golden locks framing his face and with the biggest smile he's even seen on a human. "Good morning! Come on in!" The boy says and before he turns around, Even catches a glimpse of the tag on the boy's chest. 'Isak. New at work.' He watches as Isak walks behind the counter and stops at the cash register. "So..." he says with a soft voice. "What can I do for you this morning?" The smile is still there, wider than ever. Damn... fuck, Even thinks to himself, this boy is the prettiest I've ever seen. "Uh- uh, one mocha latte… and a cream cheese bagel, please!” Even smiles at Isak, studying his face closely. His eyes wander across the other boy’s face, over the contours off his lips, his rosy cheeks, his green eyes, long eyelashes and golden curls that hangs down over his face. Isak seems to struggle with finding the items on the screen of the cash register. ”Sorry… I just gotta find it on here…. oh there!” And he makes some swift movements over the screen, taps on some places and finally Even gets to pay. ”Bagel and coffee, coming right up!” Isak grabs a plate and takes a cream cheese bagel out from the display counter next to the counter. ”Do you want me to heat it up for you?” he asks, now with more of a smirk than a smile. ”Sure!” Even smiles at him, as he watches the other boy put the bagel in a warming machine and then rush to make Even’s coffee. He can’t let his eyes wander away from this boy, because then he might disappear. It could just be an illusion. This could all just be the most perfect, amazing dream ever. None of this could be real. No one is that perfect. Those perfect curls framing his dazzling face. Who does he think he is? Prince charming? Well, he is very charming… ”And your coffee, mr…?” Isak places a large mug of smoking hot mocha latte on the counter. ”Even!” Even smiles at him. ”Cute…” Isak smiles back at Even, his rosy cheeks turning a bit more pink. ”I’m Isak!” ”Yeah, I figured” Even nods at the tag on Isak’s chest. ”Oh, right…” Isak chuckles, blushing even more if possible. ”You’re very cute!” The words just slips out of Even’s mouth, it’s like word vomit; he just can’t help it. ”Oh.. uh.. thanks!” The other boy says. He looks stunned. How has he never heard that before? ”Well, you know… you don’t look that bad yourself!” Isak lets out a nervous laugh. A beep from the warming machine interrupts them, making both of them flinch and then laugh at their silly reactions. ”Here you go!” Isak places the plate on the counter. ”Thank you!” Even can’t stop smiling at him. ”Do you… need help carrying it to the table?” Isak asks, obviously a bit awkward but very keen on helping. ”If… if you want to?” Even makes it sound like a question, even though it isn’t. Without saying anything else, Isak just takes Even’s mug and plate and places them on a table not too far away. Even loves this coffee shop because it’s often so quiet. Not many people come into this shop and if they do, they only buy coffee to go and doesn’t stay for longer than they need. People in this town are always on the go, stressing about everything and nothing. Even watches as people quickly goes in, buys their coffee and rushes out the door, hurrying to their next meeting or event or whatever they’re in a rush to do. The only people in the shop is himself, an old man reading the newspaper and a young girl doing some kind of essay, her table filled with papers and books and herself sat in the middle of this mess with her laptop. She must be very motivated, getting up on a early Saturday morning to actually get out to a coffee shop and study there. ”Uh, hi…” A voice wakes Even up from his thoughts. He looks up to meet Isak’s eyes. ”Oh, uhm, hi!” Even smiles. ”I’m so bored… not much happens here right now…” he sighs ”Do you mind if I join you?” and Even gets a bit stunned, but also flattered that this pretty boy wants to sit down with him. “Yeah, sure!” Even smiles. ”But first I would like to buy another mocha latte - it was amazing!” ”Sure!” Isak smiles. After Even getting another mocha latte - and Isak making himself a chai latte - they sit down at the table again. And they just start talking, it feels so natural. Of course they’re a bit shy, it’s a bit awkward at times, but they both find it so natural. At first, Isak sits across the table from Even but then he somehow ends up next to him. Their knees touch, which makes Even shiver a bit. ”So… what do you do when you don’t hang here?” Isak asks Even with a smile. This boy’s smile is contagious, it’s making Even's smile wider and wider every time. ”I study media at university. I’m an aspiring film maker. Right now I just do short films on YouTube, but I would love to move to Hollywood one day!” Even says, sighing happily. ”Wow, big dreams!” Isak laughs. ”Yeah…” Even chuckles and has to look away to think clearly. He barely knows Isak, but yet he gets a bit hazy by looking at him for too long. ”So what do you do? Do you always work here, or…?” ”No, on weekdays I go to school. I wanna work as a biologist in the future” He smiles at Even. ”Oh, so you’re one of those smartass science kids, are you?” Even teases him, punching him softly in the side. ”Haha, very funny Mr Hollywood!” Isak smirks, punching Even back just as softly. ”So… you’re new here then? Is this your first time working weekend? I’ve never seen you here before” Even asks. ”Yeah! I started working here on Friday last week. I think I’m mostly gonna work weekends, or maybe afternoons on the week too sometimes” Isak smiles and his hand accidentally flings out, touching Even’s leg. And there’s many times that afternoon that Isak’s hand accidentally touches Even’s leg, but none of them pulls away. And there’s even more times when Even accidentally lays his hand on Isak’s hand, or his leg or just happens to touch his shoulder. They barely know each other, they basically just met, yet none of them seems uncomfortable with this kind of soft touching. It’s like they’ve known each other for a decade, rather than just a day. At one point, Even’s hand touches Isak’s cheek and stays there for what feels like an hour but it’s just a few seconds. Isak leans in a bit, hesitantly, but has to stop when the door to the shop opens and a customer walks in. They talk for hours, time flies by and the sun has already set. Isak occasionally walks away to take care of customers, but he always comes back as soon as possible to chat to Even. At one point Even leans in a bit, almost kissing Isak, but then he just leans back a bit instead. It’s almost closing time, so Isak stands up to go clean. Even gathers the few things he brought with him - his bag, containing a book to read and a notebook for movie ideas - and waits for Isak to finish cleaning up. He watches dreamingly from afar as Isak wipes the tables, carefully making sure everything is clean for the morning. ”Okay, I’m done. Are you ready to go, or do you wanna stay all night?” Isak jokes, but there’s also a serious undertone in his voice. ”I’d love that… but I have to get up early tomorrow. I have a meeting with my project group, we’re doing a group project in school and we’re discussing some plans for it…” Even says, frowning for the first time today. ”Another time then!” Isak smiles a half smile. ”Definitely!” Even’s smile is a bit wider as he thinks about doing all of this again. They walk out the door and Even waits as Isak locks the door behind him. The rain is pouring down outside now, making it even darker outside than it normally is at this time in April. When Isak turns around, he has the biggest smile on his lips but he doesn’t say anything. Even smiles back as he thinks about something to say. ”Hey, one day maybe I could make a movie about you! The boy who made the best coffee in the world… although, maybe that would be a little farfetched, but…” Even smirks at Isak. ”Heyy!!” Isak feels a bit offended and gently slaps Even on the chest, but he can’t help it but chuckle a bit. ”Just kidding, it’s almost perfect!” Even winks at the other boy, still smiling widely. Then he does what he’s been wanting to do ever since he first laid eyes on this perfect, golden-haired boy this morning. He kisses him. He doesn’t know if Isak will kiss him back, but what the hell. But then Isak suddenly places his hands on Even’s neck, pulling him in close. Even places his hands on Isak’s lower back. This is just like a fucking movie scene! Even is screaming in his head. This is just so perfect! His lips moves softly over Isak’s lips, tasting every millimeter of them. The rain falls in what feels like slow motion around them, but Even doesn’t know if it’s just him hallucinating. When they back away from each other after what feels like forever, Isak asks: ”Will you swing by for coffee after your group project tomorrow?” Isak asks, his voice a bit shaky and it sounds almost as if he could be drunk. ”Depends…” Even looks away, his expression thoughtful but with a smirk hiding underneath. ”Depends on what?” Isak asks, trying to get Even to look at him again. ”Depends on who makes the coffee!” Even finally looks at Isak again, a big smile on his lips. Isak slaps Even’s chest with the back of his hand again. ”Haha…” Isak murmurs, a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. ”I really gotta go, though…” Even says, his head hanging down. But before he leaves he gives Isak one last, extremely long kiss. He doesn’t want to let go, but he knows he has to. So he lets go, leaving Isak behind and walks away. He turns around, walking backwards away from Isak and yells: ”See you tomorrow!” and smiles as he turns around, a distant ”see ya!" from Isak echoing behind him.

#everybody should have a bff like viki #this is the first time writing something like this pls be gentle on me #skam #au #drabbles #mel talks #texts: cute evak #evak #isak x even #isak valtersen #even bech næsheim #such soft boyfriends™#you're my sunshine #cutest little smol bean #tarjeiandhenrik

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rememberstilinski · 7 years

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hey babygirl || theo raeken

word count: 2830

warnings: season 6 spoilers and adorable theo

prompt: none

author’s note: posted before, but my old blog was deleted, so now it’s on here!

Accepting the fact someone is gone is difficult. But accepting that the love of your life is gone, with no chance of coming back is heartbreaking in every aspect of the word. The McCall pack and I had defeated the Dread Doctors about three and a half months ago. That means Theo got dragged to hell by his sister three and a half months ago. And him being gone was taking a toll on me.

I missed him all day, every day since he's been gone. I know that he did really terrible things during his time in Beacon Hills, but I loved him nonetheless. I broke up with him after he killed Scott, and we stayed broken up. However, I still loved him and wanted to be with him. I would never forget how he made me feel.

He made me a lot happier than I've ever been. After the death of my family, I wasn't happy and I didn't think I would ever be happy again. Theo changed that. He may have brought a lot of pain, but he made me really happy. Being with him was perfect. When he got sent to hell, I wasn't even there. I was helping Malia and Stiles deal with the Desert Wolf, so I received the news second hand.

The latest supernatural threat was the Ghost Riders. They even took someone in our pack; our best friend Stiles Stilinski. We found his jeep and he ended up being a real person instead of a figment of our imagination. Today Scott, Lydia, Malia, and I went to Canaan, the place Stiles told us about when we made contact with him.

Lydia had gotten us to go with her after she had a dream about the strange town. We got there and it looked like everyone up and left. That's what we figured until we met Lenore and Caleb. Lenore was a banshee like Lydia and Caleb was Lenore's son. Hayden and Liam were working in something while we were gone, but we hadn't heard from them all day. They didn't tell us their plan either.

After a long day of almost drowning and dealing with the supernatural, it was time for me to go home. Alone in a big house filled of memories with people that were all dead and gone. My parents and little sister died during our deadpool problem. My whole family was werewolves. We were all betas but formed a strong pack. I was in aspects, apart of both Scott's pack and my family's pack.

I shrugged off my jacket, throwing it on the sofa and kicked off my shoes at the door. I sighed as I took off the healed boots, relieved that my feet were no longer in pain. Note to self: don't wear heeled boots when going to Canaan.

Walking to the kitchen, I opened the fridge and pulled out some leftover pasta from the dinner I had with Malia last night. I put the takeout box in the microwave and started the timer.

While waiting for my food to finish warming up, my mind wandered to Theo. I really missed him today, more than I usually do. When we were in Canaan, I saw him. It wasn't really him but it was a vision of him. Something in the air started making Scott, Malia, and I hallucinate. I think it was maybe wolfsbane.

I was walking around the carousel in the middle of the town square to see if I could find anything or anyone to talk to and there he was. He was sitting on the edge of the amusement park ride when I saw him. Theo looked up for his shoes and his heart stopping greenish hazel eyes met my Y/E/C eyes.

“Theo.” I whispered when I saw the figure in front of me.

He smiled softly, something he didn't do often. “Hey, baby girl.”

“W-what are you doing here?” I stuttered out. “You're not supposed to be here.” He stood up and walked over to me.

“I'm not.” His large hands grabbed mine. He looked really good. Theo’s brown hair was messily styled in his head. His face was free of any imperfections and his sharp jawline was free of any stubble. “I miss you, Y/N. And I know you miss me, too.”

“I think of you all the time.” I whispered, our gaze still connected. My eyes were threatening to let tears fall.

Theo brought his right hand to my cheek, running right on the bone. “I should've told you how much I loved you.”

Before I could say anything, a voice called my name. “Y/N!” I turned to see it was Malia that called me over. When I turned back around to look at Theo, he was gone. I sniffles and quickly wiped my tears from my eyes.

“Uh, yeah. I'm coming!” I called back to Malia.

The beeping of the microwave snapped me out of my thoughts. I shook my head and turned to grab my food. I sat myself down at the counter and ate quietly.

Just as I took my last bite, my phone rang. I looked at the clock and it was almost midnight. I pulled the device out of my pocket and looked at the Caller ID. It was Liam. And I had multiple texts from Scott and Malia.

I answered quickly. “Hello, baby blue?” I said with a smile on my face. That was the nickname I gave Liam when we first me. Cute kid.

“Hey, Y/N. Um, you need to over here as soon as possible.” Liam rushed out, sounding panicky.

I stood up and grabbed my keys from the counter. “I'm on my way right now. Is everything okay? And when you say ‘over here’, what do you mean?”

“Scott's house.” I heard Liam say into the phone. I put on the boots that I was wearing earlier and out on my jacket that was still on the sofa.

“Is everything okay?” I asked once again.

“Just hurry up and get here. I'll explain later when you arrive.” Liam said quickly and then hung up the phone.

I turned the phone off and shoved it in my back pocket. I hurried and made my way out the door, turning on the alarm system and locking before leaving. I got into the car parked in the garage and sped to the McCall household.

When I pulled in, I saw Malia’s car, Hayden’s car, and Scott’s bike. Nothing looked too out of place. Quickly turning the engine off, I got out and walked up the steps of Scott's house. I knocked on the door waiting for someone to answer.

Liam's face came into view as the door swung open. “Hey, what's going on?” Liam grabbed my wrist and pulled me in the house, staying hallway.

I heard voices but wasn't too concerned on who was talking. “Okay, listen to me. Don't freak out when you see who's in there.”

“Liam, I'm sure I'll be fine.” I shrugged, a reassuring smile on my face. Liam nodded with a sigh. He began walking towards the kitchen and gestured for me to follow him.

“Okay, guys. What's the problem this-” I said as I entered, but I was cut off when I saw what was going on. Hayden was holding a transitioned Malia in her arms and Scott looked as if he could kill. I looked to the other figure in the room and saw a familiar face.

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth before whispering, “Theo.”

Theo smiled softly like he did when I saw him in Canaan. “Hey, baby girl.”

“W-what… h-how?” I stuttered. I had to close my eyes and reopen them to make sure I wasn't dreaming or still being affected by wolfsbane. When they opened, his perfect figure was still standing there, in Scott's kitchen.

“Why are you here?” I finally uttered. I'm sure my eyes were wide and shock was written all over my face. Liam had made his way from standing beside me to standing next to Scott.

“You guys need my help with the Ghost Riders.” Theo told me. “So, here I am.”

“How?”

“Noshiko brought Kira's sword and let Liam and Hayden use it to bring him back.” Scott said to me, his words laced with venom and hatred. That was something I've never heard in his voice.

I suddenly felt really dizzy. “I'll be right back.” I whispered. I walked to the bathroom and closed the door quickly. I had to process all this. Theo was back. Theo Raeken is back in our lives. He got out of hell. I guess if anyone could come back from hell looking perfect, it's Theo.

What did this mean though? What did this mean for the pack? For our relationship? I don't know what to do. Yes, I want to be with more than anything. When I saw him in Canaan, it felt so real. His touch felt real and I just wanted to fall into his arms. I just wanted him to hold me again. Now I have the opportunity.

A gentle knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I sighed before opening the door. Theo was there. He was looking at his shoes, but when he heard the door, he looked up. “Y/N.” He whispered, not quite sure how to approach the situation.

“Hey.” I spoke. He brought his hand to the back of his neck, scratching nervously. I bit my bottom lip, not knowing what else to say.

“I missed you. I missed you a lot.” He said, eyebrows furrowing in a manner that said he meant the words he just said to me.

“I missed you, too, Theo.” I whispered so quietly, I wasn't sure he caught it. Apparently he did, because he stepped closer and pulled me into his embrace. His strong arms around my waist.

I wrapped arms around his neck, and leaned my head on his chest. “I'm sorry.” Theo mumbled. “I'm sorry for everything I did. I'm sorry for killing Scott. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you. I'm so sorry, Y/N.”

“It's okay, Theo. I forgive you.” I breathed out. “And you were perfect for me. You still are. There wasn't a day gone by that I haven't thought of you.”

He kissed my head and let me go, but held me close enough to still be pressed against each other. “How? I'm a monster. Baby, I'm barely even human.”

“Not to me. To me, you're perfect. You're everything to me. And these past four months without you have been complete and total hell.”

“You have no idea.” Theo sighed, and I let out a breathy laugh. “In all seriousness, I'm not good for you. I don't know why you're even talking to me right now.” He looked down in sadness.

I placed my hand on jaw, lifting slightly so we made eye contact. “I'm talking to you because I love you. I love you so much, Theo.”

“I love you, too, baby.” He took my hand and laced our fingers.

“Let's go home, yeah?” I asked him, my tone gentle, but serious.

“Home?” He questioned, a soft grin growing on his face.

“Home.” I confirmed.

“Okay. Let's go… home.” His happiness gave me something I haven't had in a long time; comfort. With our fingers still intertwined, we walked back into the kitchen. Malia had finally calmed down, but she still looked angry. Scott turned to look at us and saw our hands.

“Scott, I-” I began to explain myself, but Scott cut me off.

“It's okay, Y/N. I heard everything.” Scott sighed. He looked at me and nodded.

“You're okay with this?” Theo asked, surprised.

“Not exactly, but you make her happier than I've ever seen her. You're good for her.”

“Thanks, Scott.” I whispered, but he heard it and smiled at me. Scott and Stiles were like older brothers to me. They always made me happy and they were beyond protective of me. Stiles not being here was hard, but I don't know what I'd do if him and Scott were both gone.

My gaze moved to Malia and she was looking back at me. “I don't like Theo, but I'm not going to keep you from being happy again, Y/N. You're my best friend and I want you to be happy.” She smiled. “Theo, if you hurt her, remember I'm a werecoyote who killed her own family, I won't hesitate to kill you, too.”

Theo looked genuinely scared of her words, which was strange for Theo. “G-got it.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, uh, let's get going.” Theo nodded and we walked out of Scott's home and to my car. I sat in the driver’s seat and Theo in the passenger's seat. We drove in a comfortable silence back to my home.

When we entered, we kicked our shoes off and I took my jacket off once again. “Before Liam called me, I was going to take a bath. Do you want to join me?” I asked, nervous if that sounded too desperate.

“I would love too.” He smiled. Theo picked me up bridal style and carried me up the stairs and to the bathroom. Once we were in the room, he set me back down on my feet. Theo turned on the bath and the water began to fill the big bathtub. I took off my clothes as Theo took off his. I couldn't help but admire how he looked.

His arms were still strong and very well built. His back muscles moved in such a beautiful way. His torso was toned perfectly. Theo wasn't that big, but he was a decent size. “What are you looking at?” Theo smirked as he caught me staring.

“You.” I said, confidently. Theo’s smirk turned into a smile that warmed my heart. “Ugh, I'm so happy to have you back.”

“Me too, baby girl.” I started thinking back to when he called me by my real name. He never used my real name unless it was a serious situation. He always called me princess, baby, or baby girl. All the nicknames were music to my ears.

The bath filled up to an appropriate level before we turned it off. I got in the tub first and Theo came in right after me. He sat behind me so my back was pressed against his chest. My head fell back into the curve of his shoulder. Eyes fluttering closed. He placed soft and slow kisses on my temple. He laced both of our hands and everything in this moment is pure bliss.

“I love you.” Theo whispered in my ear. The way he whispered it sent chills down my spine. The words went straight to my heart.

“I love you.” I hummed.

“Before we broke up, I was going to ask you something.” He suddenly said. I slowly opened my eyes and turned my head so I was looking at him.

I raised my eyebrow. “What is it?”

Theo’s large hands cupped my face and looked into my eyes deeply before smiling. “Will you marry me?”

I smiled, leaning into his hand. I rubbed his hand that was over my cheek. “Yes. I'll marry you.”

Theo leaned in and pressed his lips to mine in a fierce and passionate kiss. The movement was somehow intense yet relaxing. Every time I've very kissed him, it was indescribable. It made me feel different than anything I've ever felt.

His hands caressed my bare back and the touch caused goosebumps to rise in my skin. I smelt the love and lust radiating off him in chemosignals and I'm sure he smelt the same thing coming from me.

His pink lips were soft and inviting. The warmth of his skin against mine was comfortable and felt like home. My hands moved to the nape of his neck and tugged softly at the strands of hair. Theo groaned and that gave me the chance to enter my tongue.

Theo always had this vanilla taste to him. Whether it was in his lips, in his mouth, or on his skin. I don't know why, but it drove me crazy. It add me hungrier for him.

The movement of water was heard in the background. The drips falling from our body and making a soft drop into the water filled my ears, as well as his the rising of his heartbeat.

I pulled away so my lungs could grasp onto air. Our foreheads stayed pressed against each other, noses nuzzled together. “I've been waiting to kiss you since I last kissed you.”

I smiled, softly biting my lip. “Well you don't have to worry about not kissing me anymore, Mr. Raeken.”

My fiancée laughed softly, but the noise carried around the bathroom. “I can't wait to spend the rest of my life loving you, Mrs. Raeken.”

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therachelreport · 7 years

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The Mighty Jungle

We got married! That’s right, I am officially Rachel Evans as of August 20, 2016, for those of you that have been living under a rock. Don’t worry, etiquette says you have a full year to send us wedding gifts, so I ain’t mad at you…yet. And traditionally with a wedding, comes a honeymoon. A Honeymoon, according to Wikipedia (where you can always find the most accurate information on the web), is the traditional holiday taken by newlyweds to celebrate their marriage in intimacy and seclusion, often celebrated in destinations considered exotic or romantic. Although I’m not usually one for traditions, this is one that I can get on board with, at least in theory. For the three of you who actually read this thing, and for the many of you that have traveled with me, the one recurrent theme is this—I don’t take vacations, in the traditional meaning of the word that is, I go on adventures. And this “honeymoon” would be no exception. I’m not sure if I’m even capable of an actual vacation at this point, and thankfully my new husband can’t sit still for longer than 13 minutes either. So, instead of the typical Pina Colada-filled, sleep until noon, leave your sneakers at home, and “get tanner than a high school prom queen” honeymoon, we (yes, WE) decided to embark on a three week adventure to South Africa, inclusive of 5am wake up calls, grueling hikes, hours-long road trips, and an aggressive list of restaurants, cities, and activities. We’d spend a week on safari in the northern region, a week in Cape Town, and the remaining time exploring the southern coast.

South Africa, the country almost twice the size of Texas—”not the southern part of Africa”, I nicely clarified to the polite, southern gentleman at Barclaycard after he repeatedly asked me “which countries would I be traveling in”, and threatened to tell his children the truth about Santa Claus if my card was shut off while overseas—would be both of our first steps on African soil (although definitely not our last) and the farthest place either of us have visited. Two ten hour flights from LAX-->LHR-->JNB, plus a six hour drive (on the left side of the road) to Kruger National Park, THE park of all parks in SA, finally landed us in Mjejane Game Reserve, a private reserve connected to the southern tip of Kruger, where we’d be spending our first few days in South Africa. Kruger National Park is over 7500 square miles, impossible to cover in one trip, and home to a dense population of what is commonly referred to as “The Big 5”—lion, buffalo, elephant, leopard and rhino, chosen based on their unrivaled strength. A typical day, at Mjejane and all of our safari lodges, went something like this: 5am wake up call, 5:30am game drive (3-5 hours depending on the day), 10am breakfast, NAP, lunch, 4pm game drive (2-3 hours), 8pm dinner, sleep, repeat. Each lodge is situated on their own private property inside the park, and provides you with anything you need throughout your stay. Here is just a handful of what we captured on lens.

Our first spotting’s, self-found, on our drive in--Wildabeast, Elephants and Giraffe!

Home for the next few days, mosquito net included.

Game drives took place on this tank (remember, it is South Africa’s summer), guided by experienced trackers.

Tripod of Giraffe--on average 5.5 meters tall! Even babies come out at 1.5 meters...ouch.

A young zebra wears her stripes proudly.

The white Rhino, pretty much the closest existing relative to the dinosaur, can weigh up to 3.5 TONS and has skin so thick not even a crocodile can puncture it.

Speaking of crocodiles....I think I’ll stay back here.

Herd of buffalo, claiming their night’s resting place.

Morning views along with Mjejane River, this makes the 5am wake up call not so bad (I said not SO bad...).

Impala, the most common of the antelope species in Kruger. Small and quick, they travel in packs.

KUDU: the second largest antelope and...a very tasty piece of meat! Males have horns, females don’t.

Mongoose, this little guy might look cute, but beware--it can kill a Cobra, and are immune to snake venom.

Waterbuck munching on some leaves in the “parking lot” of our lodge.

On our nightly game drives, we’d park up to watch the sunset with a glass of wine, taking in the sound of birds and peacefulness that the bush has to offer, as many animals search for a safe night’s resting place, and others awaken to hunt their next meal.

Hippo’s hang out in large groups, keeping cool in the water during the day and grazing at dusk.

Mama elephant and youngsters wandering through the bush.

The search for cats continues....

Remember Pumbaa, the friendly warthog from The Lion King--here he is!

Once almost entirely extinct--largely due to an extreme poaching problem, and certainly still endangered, it’s refreshing to see this Mother and Son Rhinocerus beating the odds. #SavetheRhino

This gentle giant was sure to look both ways before crossing the road in front of us.

The highlight for me at Mjejane occurred on our second morning game drive around 6:30am, our fourth and final drive at this lodge. I was actually starting to lose hope on cat-sightings, and then, there she was, the Queen of the Jungle, just lounging in the middle of the dirt road. Lions are nocturnal creatures, sleeping 18-20 hours each day, and hunting during the night. Spotting their golden coat through the thick bush in daylight hours when they’re likely sleeping, is not so easy, and spotting them in the dark is also difficult for obvious reasons, not to mention the added dangers that accompany wandering around the bush at night. But, circling around sunrise and sunset, you can often catch these predators on the move. This particular lioness had likely just finished her nightly meal, presumed by the fresh blood lingering around her mouth. Seemingly enjoying the early morning sunlight before the day’s heat sets in, I call this state of stillness a food-coma. We pulled up right next to her, honestly, a little too close for comfort at first, until she strutted directly alongside our truck and relocated under the shade of the bush.

Next up, we headed just a couple of hours north, to the Sabi Sands area of Kruger, named after the nearby Sabie and Sand Rivers, and inclusive of several private game lodges. We’d be staying at Umkumbe Lodge, buried deep into the bush and hopefully increasing our chances of cat-sightings, known as “leopard country”. Same schedule and daily activities, new ground to explore.

The terrain during our 3 hour drive was a pretty spectacular site on its own—miles of dense forests and lush farmlands along the way.

We made it, after a longer than expected, bumpy ride down a narrow dirt road—I am pretty impressed with our navigation skills thus far!

Back into the bush!

Elan, the largest of the antelope species.

December is prime birthing season for impala, so we got the chance to see several babies. This one day old imapala was already frolicking off on her own!

Although they may look the same on first glimpse, every giraffe has a completely unique pattern.

The helmet-like skull of a buffalo is so hard that even a 35mm bullet couldn’t penetrate it.

Morning coffee time in the bush!

The white rhino, not actually white at all, got his name for his wide mouth, compared to the narrow mouth of what was then named the black rhino. Dutch to English translation got...lost in translation.

Elephants travel in herds and are extremely loyal to their family. Herds can range anywhere from 10-100, and we were lucky enough to stumble upon a group of about 40 one day, ranging from all ages and sizes. Easy to spot these gentle giants through the bush, we saw a few heading towards a watering hole on this warm, summer morning, and they just kept coming. Splashing water all over themselves, and then layering themselves with a nice layer of mud (for sun protection and to keep them cool) this was quite the site to watch.

The gestation period for elephants is 22 months! They usually only breed once every eight years and live to about 65 years old.

Beep beep!

South African sunsets are really unlike none other, fifty shades of purple every night!

What was most definitely the highlight at Umkumbe, and quite possibly the gold medal of the entire trip, occurred on our last evening drive in Sabi Sands. We drove up to a river bank, and sleeping just next to the water under a leafy tree was the elusive spotted cat, the leopard that we’d been hoping to see. Stationing our vehicle as close to the cliff’s edge as possible, we sat in silence and observed this sleeping (on and off) beauty in awe. She is three years old.

After about fifteen minutes, we heard a deep growl and noticed movement coming from an adjacent tree. Seemingly out of nowhere, a large male leopard (the father of the young female leopard) jumped out of the tree, walked up the river bank and up the ledge of rocks that we were positioned on, continuing towards us and making us all a little uneasy. Marius, our 6’6, 250+lb South African guide assured us that Maxabeni, the eight year old male leopard, had no interest in making us his next meal (but also to keep our bodies and limbs inside the vehicle). We followed him through the bush for over an hour as he stalked his next meal—a group of nearby Impala. He was focused on his prey, gliding so close to our vehicle that you could reach down and pet him, but completely avoiding eye contact. The impala did spot their predator and screamed out warnings to their tribe—the females and babies ran off while some of the males stayed to keep their eyes on their enemy. We eventually left Maxabeni to continue his hunt without distractions.

Leopards live and hunt in solitude, and don’t share their kill even with their family members. Each male has his own territory, usual encompassing a few female territories.

Clawing this tree to sharpen and clean his paws for the hunt, and also to mark his 8,000 acre territory.

Proof of how close Maxabeni was to Bennie’s leg!

That same night, on our way back to camp—the sun has set at this point, leaving only our vehicle headlights and a flashlight to guide us—we heard rumblings in the distance and movement within the bush. Quickly approaching that direction, we found three spotted hyena’s scurrying across the field. Another nocturnal creature, hyena’s actually hunt 80% of their food and are not simply the scavengers that they are commonly referred, making these ugly (like, really ugly) four-legged beings even more intimidating than they look.

Thanks for reminding us we’re on our honeymoon, Umkumbe!

Another elephant bathing session during our final morning game drive at Umkumbe.

This less than one month old baby with wobbly legs and an inability to control his own trunk, stumbled to keep up with the group. At one point, he decided to go for his second mud bath, and the common “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” phrase could not be more appropriate. His mom, never letting him out of sight, reached down with her own trunk and lifted him out of the slippery mud back onto solid ground. Thanks Ma!

The prettiest little bird I ever did see.

Our next stop on the safari train would be Pilanesberg National Park, a smaller park just northwest of Johannesburg, about a 7-hour drive from Sabi Sands. Ben is getting really good at this whole driving on the opposite side of the road thing, while my navigation skills haven’t improved much (4 u-turns per hour is about average, right?).

Kilometers of rural countryside along the way.

Bakubung Bush Lodge, inside Pilanesberg National Park, turned out to be not quite what we expected, and honestly a little disappointing especially after having visited Kruger. If you want my honest opinion, I’d skip it altogether if you’re planning a visit, and I know we will stick to Kruger upon our return to South Africa. It’s not that we didn’t see any animals here, we saw plenty of the Big 5 and more, the entire experience just felt a little….inauthentic compared to Kruger. You know…omelette bars & buffet style dinners, screaming kids running around, 2+ cameras per person, traffic jams throughout the park, just a little too mainstream for our tastes. However, we made the most of our days here and took advantage of the resort-style amenities, lounged by the pool (disclaimer: the African sun is FIRE compared to the west-coast, which I learned the hard way. I think I’m actually still peeling from this day), hit the casino in Sun-City, witnessed some breath-taking sunsets, and still had some unique experiences in the bush, which is ultimately what we came for.

Elephants flop their ears as a way to cool themselves down on the hot summer days.

Night Views

Bakubung was our first up-close monkey sightings in South Africa, joining us for breakfast and poolside each day!

Young male lion, saving his energy for the night.

Zebra, Wildabeast, Impala and Springbok all grazing together. These vegetarians, each with their own strengths and weaknesses, often spend their days together to better defend themselves agains the meat-eaters of the bush.

Baby zebra sticking close to mom.

After getting my Black Jack-fix at the casino in Sun City, the neighboring town to Pilanesberg, we had lunch at the extravagant Palace of the Lost City hotel. Feels a little like Vegas!

Bush Braii: sunset and dinner in the bush.

Female lions actually do the majority of the hunting for their packs. Each lion can eat up to 20% of their body weight each day--and they weigh between 180-250kg! You can see the numerous battle scars on this lionness, proving that life in the bush is always a fight, even for the strong. Ben gets full credit for spotting this lady through the bush, allowing us to follow her around for a bit.

On our last evening game drive at Pilanesberg, we got a hot tip that a leopard had climbed into a roadside tree. Leopards are known for dragging their kill up trees in order to hide it, sharing is not in their mantra, so this was not uncommon. Assuming that “what goes up, must come down”, we camped out under this tree and waited. For what seemed like forever we waited, staring at the still tree, using our camera zoom as binoculars, and seriously doubting that there was anything hiding amongst the thick leaves. Eventually, the branches began to shake slightly, and a glimpse of a spotted tail emerged. Finally, she revealed herself. Slowly crawling down from the tree, as if she wanted to savor her five minutes of fame, this small female leopard strutted her stuff down the dirt runway and took her time soaking in the attention, eventually wandering deep into the bush. I guess good things do come to those who wait.

Aha! A tail!

Before completely saying goodbye to our daily safari’s and time with the animals, we had a day to kill in the small town of Lanseria, just north of Johannesburg, as we awaited our morning flight to Cape Town. Not without hesitation, and still not feeling totally great about going, we decided to visit the Lion and Safari Park, a popular destination for tourists who don’t have enough time or interest in venturing out on a true safari. This is less like a zoo, as the animals do have acres to freely roam around (lions aren’t interested in doing much besides sleeping and eating anyways…) but there are certainly obvious drawbacks to breeding animals in captivity purely for human pleasure and tourism. I won’t go on, especially since we did visit. It was pretty eye-opening to see the size of these creatures up close and personal, and maybe I took a selfie with a lion cub….

Each lion pack has one dominant male, my money’s on this guy.

Brown (with baby) and striped hyenas, much different than the spotted version we saw at Umkumbe.

Cannot get over the build of on ostrich (another meat that proved particularly delicious)...check out those feet!

Lion Cubs...if we look scared and awkward, it’s because we were!

“Stay” wasn’t in their vocabulary....check out the size of those paws, they’re only three-five months old!

Billtong: dried, cured meat originating in South Africa. Think beef jerky, but way better. Served as snacks during our safari’s, in every gas station, and even on a salad! We’ll be shipping some home...

Taking in our last north South African sunset from our peaceful little B&B.

After an amazing week+ in the South African bush, the Evans were headed south, although I won’t say we were necessarily ready. There is something addicting, at least for us, about safaris and our time spent observing the wildlife in their natural environment. Raw and ever-changing, the bush, just like life, is unpredictable. Yes, there are ways to track these animals, study and learn their daily routines, geographical territories, and methods of survival, but ultimately, instinct and luck preside. Life in the bush is constantly moving, and one’s existence is always threatened. The fight for survival is intense, and the animals have the battle scars to prove it. These creatures understand their own strengths and surroundings more-so than any human I know, and it was truly incredible to observe them in their natural environment. Ben and I have both caught the “safari-bug”—no, not Malaria, thanks to Dr. Siegel for the RX—and are already planning our next adventure into the mighty jungle (travel buddies welcome!). Stay tuned for part two, as we take on the beaches, hikes, wineries, and beauty of Africa’s southern coast.

#africa

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sayitaintdoe · 6 years

Text

it is the day before d-day, and theodora graham has made her descent into san francisco, and i have to remind myself when the notification goes off on my phone, like, six times that teddy is married now and doesn’t need me showing up at the airport with bells on to pick her up from her last great adventure.

which is probably for the best, considering i’m already running late for work as it is. but that is really just a technical detail more than it is anything else. late, schmate, am i right?

okay, not right, because my friend syd will murder me if i don’t start actually, like, showing up on time (or at all, really, but i do at least tend to usually have the decency to show up if nothing else).

my car, an old and sputtering and wheezing volkswagen beetle far past her prime (talulah, if you must know), creeks up into my designated parking spot, but she doesn’t make a cute little BEEP! when i lock her so much as she makes a sad, miserable boop. a “please put me out of my misery and put some of your grubhub money toward a new car, dumbass.”

i ignore this, hiking my bag up my shoulder and heading through the front doors of grove & joy, the eclectic little hipster paradise of a salon and pop-up shop my friends syd and joy own.

see, this is my thing. everyone i consider a friend is between the ages of 23 and 30, and i just want to know, why it is that i am the only one who doesn’t have a single goddamn clue what i’m going to do with my life. like, we’re talking nothing. nada. i am wandering around perfectly content to run the fucking register at this joint so long as my friends are around. and everyone else is off getting married and (god forbid) getting pregnant and having, like, grown up jobs.

and then there’s me. square peg, round hole, trying not to be one of those millennials that every dumbass article complains about but then wondering what is so wrong with liking avocados in the first place, bob from kansas city?

i’m losing track of my point.

and whatever point i’m trying to make (is there one?) is soon enough derailed by a flurry of rainbow sherbet arms and tiny, slim arms wrapping tight around me. “you’re on time!” every time joy announces something, she announces it with a giggle.

“even a broken clock is right twice a day,” i reply, getting in my daily dad joke for the hour (okay, the half hour), and dropping my bag to the floor behind the front counter. “what’d i miss?”

her hand rests at her hip, head tilted to the side before her face lights up, a second later. and from there, she’s nearly pouncing, soaring toward me with her hands quickly finding my shoulders and gripping tight. “you have a date and you didn’t tell me!”

“oh, do i?” i pretend to be focusing on my nails, before flashing her a cheeky grin. “there might be a date happening, yes.”

“with PRESTON?!”

“how much are you bribing him, exactly?” a second voice, definitely belonging to sydney, pipes up from the back. i turn my head and can see just enough of the peaks of their newly frosted silver hair poking over the half-wall staring back at me like an early 2000s disney channel character.

i clear my throat, swooping around the corner to approach them, hands propped on my hips. “for the record, he asked me out.”

well. now he did. maybe they won’t mention it to him!

sydney raises their eyebrows back at me, clearly surprised by this. i just nod eagerly back at them. “uh huh, yeah. thats what i thought. how’s that for bribery?”

“i think it was only a matter of time,” joy chimes out in her singsong voice, pressing a kiss to my cheek and then pressing one to sydney’s. “i mean, the two of them have been married since middle school.” pause for laughter. “remember that time we had to do that flour sack project and—”

for some reason, i feel my cheeks flush, and i quickly swat my hand at the air like that’s going to stop the memory from rolling up, or at the very least, stop the conversation from progressing.

luckily — luckily! call me zack morris because i am saved by the bell, literally — the door chimes open again, to save me from this conversation, save me from them, stop any of this from going any further, and i turn around for the distraction with my well-trained customer service smile.

but it’s not a customer. it’s her.

all five-foot-eleven of her, standing tall and willowy. teddy.

“YOU’RE ACTUALLY HERE IN THE SAME PLACE AS ME IN THE SAME TIME ZONE AS ME CRAZY RICH ASIANS THE REALITY SHOW IS OVER ARE YOU SERIOUS?” i spew out all my words as one long string, throwing myself across the salon and right at her, tackling her into a hug as a client comes in behind her and kennedy sweeps into professional mode, but not before giving her a squeeze on the shoulder.

“i called preston when i landed to make sure where you’d be, i wanted to surprise you!” she hums back in my ear, and married teddy feels the same as single teddy and engaged teddy and broken hearted teddy. still firm and strong. just, like, now with this weird big rock on her finger. sparkling back at me, begging me to look at it. so, i don’t. because fuck you, wedding ring.

“speaking of surprising you…” joy hummed in that teasing, singing voice of hers, looking between teddy and myself and going so far as to wink. WINK!

teddy blinks back at her, and then she’s looking back at me. “speaking of? what did i miss? and if you hold out on me, i will physically kick your butt, and you know that i can and will win.”

i clear my throat. “well, first of all. your goldfish is definitely not dead.”

“so, you just... put a doppelgänger fish in the tank.”

let’s skip ahead.

teddy leans back, taking a sip from her iced coffee and looking at me like it’s the first time she’s ever seen me. the good news is that she’s somehow thankfully managed to calm down after learning about goldie the first’s most untimely demise. the bad news is that she’s definitely not going to let go of the fact that i let it slip that in order to speed up the grieving process, preston healed my wounds and drowned my sorrows by asking me on a date.

so, okay, yeah, i just keep adding onto the story - but that’s what makes it so interesting. it’s the layers that make a cake good, not the flour.

“do you know where he’s taking you?”

is it weird that i haven’t thought about it? like, any of it? but where is he taking me? why does he have to decide where we go? it’s 2018 and i have good taste and this was all my idea anyway, so shouldn’t i get to have a say in where we go?

will it be different than every other time we’ve gotten dinner together? we’ve done some very... how you say, couple-like things when we’ve grabbed dinner together before, but is this different?

holy shit.

am i going on a date? with preston?

“doe? you okay? you look pale.”

i am brought back to grove & joy, back to teddy watching me cautiously and a stream of customers filtering in around us.

“somewhere with a violinist,” i blurt out, recalling something i remember preston telling me the other morning when i was slipping out from under his covers. “and no peanuts. otherwise brady can’t have any leftovers.”

a date with preston.

going out with preston in a date-like environment where we’re supposed to pretend to be a couple and it’s weird because we don’t do that and what the fuck was i thinking and why did i suggest it you IDIOT

it’s late now. not so late that kat will pull dramatics if i stumble into the apartment in the dark, but late enough that i know preston’s not doing anything else (he couldn’t possibly), and somehow that’s all i need to know.

despite everything, despite feeling some weird twist in my gut telling me this is most likely all going to blow up in my face (it’s bound to), i still find myself reaching for my phone as i skip the usual route to my apartment in favor of the turn for his, pulling up in front of his building and slipping in without a word.

i know brady and stevie enough to know better than to disturb them, so i go for my spare key that isn’t so much a spare key as it is i stole preston’s and had my own copy made, and i let myself in.

every closed door has a glow coming through the cracks, and i can hear the obnoxious late eighties hip hop wafting out of preston’s room when i twist open the door.

my jacket’s off before the door is shut behind me, followed by my shoes, and then my top. my fingers are working to my jeans and then suddenly his hands are there, replacing mine, charting out territory he’s mapped many tones before, and his lips are meeting mine, and he’s dragging me in and i’m letting him.

“hello, lover boy,” i tease against his mouth, hearing his half-laugh, half-whine of a “don’t ruin this” that’s returned to me.

and it’s funny, this thing about us.

one of us is always waiting for the other, always expecting the other to show up. it’s always an extended invitation, an exclusive welcome mat.

and most of the time, we accept it.

this is what i want to focus on: his lips on mine and my hands quickly working off his shirt and his stupid spongebob squarepants boxers, us tripping over each other on the way back to his bed, but him catching me before my head hits the mattress without him like some freaking john mayer song. because we’re best friends, and that’s what it means to be best friends. you catch each other, right?

this is the here and the now. and this is way less stressful than the storm building up in my head for no goddamn reason.

so i let it take me.

#007 #~

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unpopcorned · 7 years

Text

"Will you shut the fuck up already?"

"It's a game. And you agreed to play."

"I did that so you would shut up, not keep talkin'."

"C'mon, one more, Ron."

Veronica clenched her jaw, turning her head slightly to look at Jacob. He was sitting behind the wheel of his car, raising his eyebrows at her in question, amused and waiting. She sat beside him in the passenger seat, knees pulled to her chest and picking at the skin around her fingernail - a nervous habit that she was never able to break ( she bit at her nails as well sometimes ). Finally, she relented, sighing in slight aggravation and gestured a hand for him to continue. It was better than listening to the songs on the radio - which he seemed to know every one and sang them at the top of his lungs.

He flashed a quick, handsome grin and then said, "Alright. Twelve times...one-forty-four."

"One-thousand-seven-hundred-twenty-eight," The response was automatic, and Veronica wrinkled her nose at him, "What is this? A game show?"

He ignored her annoyance, "How about the square root of fifty-two?"

"It's like - seven-point-two-one-one–we're supposed to be stayin' quiet here, would you shut the fuck—"

"Distance from Neptune to Venus?"

Veronica's mouth opened.

"In inches!"

She narrowly resisted the urge to hit him. Instead, she reached up and rubbed at her temples, "Okay, for fuck's sake, so right now, it's maybe around - a hundred-eighty-five-trillion—" There was a beep from beside the car, around three feet away. Veronica looked up, catching sight of Jax getting out of a his recently parked car to practically prance over to them. Jacob rolled down the window for her, and Jax immediately leaned his big head in, wild blond hair everywhere.

"Hey, guys!" He greeted far too loudly, looking back and forth between them with a large smile, "When did you guys get here?"

"On time," Veronica snapped at him through clenched teeth, "Where have you been? Are you fuckin' drunk?"

"No!" He answered almost too quickly, "But I am high." Jacob laughed out loud, he was always pretty happy to see Jax - Veronica regretted introducing them in the first place. Veronica would've kicked the passenger dashboard if it wasn't Jacob's car. Jax seemed to notice her anger, blinking wide brown eyes at her, "What'd I do?"

"I told you to come at twelve! At midnight! I told you three fuckin' times to be here! And what time is it now?"

"Uh—" He had the nerve to check his cheap watch, "One-thirty."

Veronica was sure she looked close to taking her frustration out on Jax himself, but she felt a warm pressure on her thigh. Glancing over, she saw Jacob watching her, quirking one brow up, but he didn't have to say anything. In response, Veronica pushed herself back in the seat, blowing out a long breath through her nose. It was hard to calm down, even harder knowing what a tight schedule she was on. It'd been around two weeks since the fight with West - since he'd nearly killed her with his bare hands. She could've died in that house, and she probably would have if it weren't for the years and work she'd put into West's business. He knew he needed her, he'd always known that. If he didn't, he would've killed her years ago, along with Ben and Charlotte.

Veronica locked her jaw, facing Jax again - his face, as usual, was curious and open and excited. He really could be like a little fucking kid sometimes. Now that her face was relatively back to normal ( the bruises had faded, but her jaw was still a bit sore and it hurt to move it too much ), Veronica could finally walk around without people flinching at her appearance or offering her a place to stay like she was some type of lonely, abused broad. She'd stay holed up with Jacob for those two weeks, it'd been so quiet and tense for a long time, Veronica's fingers had begun to cramp together from how tightly she was squeezing them into fists.

Jacob was probably the only reason she hadn't drank herself to death - or maybe something less messy, like pills or jumping out a fucking window. She was dead anyway, no matter how she looked at it. No matter how many times Jacob said he had it handled. Veronica didn't feel safe enough, West hadn't made a move yet, but that didn't mean she wouldn't either. Being at a stand still with West was one of the things she never wanted to go through, she'd seen what happened on the opposite end far too many times to count. Somehow, some way, West would find you. He wouldn't stop until he did.

He always won.

"I just..." She felt Jacob's thumb rub over her thigh, through her jeans, she was still able to feel the warmth and steady pressure, "I just need you to do this one thing for me. Dex still talks to you, okay?"

Jax nodded a bit, expression sobering some, "I can get you in. No problem, Veronica." And so, with that said, Veronica exited the car, closing the door behind her. She was a bit surprised when she heard Jacob's door do the same.

"What're you doin'?"

Jacob gave her a weird look at the question, "Coming in with you."

"Yeah, no. Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"If you haven't fucking noticed, we're in the middle of the fuckin' slums." By now, Jacob was well articulated with how Veronica spoke, translating this statement into ( "I don't know how the Mexicans are gonna react to you and I don't want you to get shot ), so he shrugged a shoulder, pulling out a pack of cigarettes to pat them lightly against his open palm.

"Should be alright. I got a way with words, Ronnie."

Veronica merely rolled her eyes, walking past Jax and to the warehouse front, "Yeah, sure." She already knew that, that's how he kept getting her out of her underwear so easily. She didn't bother being subtle, instead banging a fist against the door six times. It would be enough to get their attention. The door opened, and a guy with a medium complexion and ugly face tattoos answered, prying open the door only a few inches.

"You got a death wish, puta?"

"She's with me!" Jax said from slightly behind Veronica, big grin and all, "It's cool, Jesús." Once the guy spotted Jax, he immediately frowned, pulling open the door a bit more. After making sure it was him, the door was pried open all the way, and Veronica shoved her hands into her pockets to come off a little less like a threat. Jax walked forward first, into the dimly lit hallway, "Thanks, man!"

Jesús scoffed, clicking his tongue lightly at Jacob, "You rollin' with a gringo?"

Jax laughed this time, throwing an arm over Jacob's shoulders in a friendly way, "He's my friend. We're reeeeeaaal close."

Whatever inside joke Jesús and Jax shared, they laughed at together. Veronica really didn't want to know. She grabbed a hold of Jacob's left arm, pulling him away from Jax and the stranger. Once Jax realized they were moving on, he waved a hand at Jesús, talking shit and the like. When Jax caught up, she spoke up, "Who's the new guy?"

Jax looked up, "What d'ya mean?"

"Miguel used to watch the door, where's he?"

Jax blinked, regarding her with a strange look before he dropped it. He never had a good attention span, "Oh. I don't know. Think he got wrapped up in some nasty business. His girl died, I remember."

Veronica stopped walking at this, eyebrows furrowing, "Melissa? Melissa died?"

"Yeah," he waved a hand vaguely, like it was old news, "Got shot."

She could feel Jacob staring at her, his gaze burning into the side of her cheek. Veronica made sure to school her expression right, as if she wasn't supposed to react to such surprising news. And really, it wasn't surprising. People in this type of business died every day, she shouldn't care as much as she did. Last time she’d seen Melissa, she'd been fine. Smiling, off the drugs, finally. She couldn't help wonder how Miguel was taking it - she vaguely remembered him mentioning he'd known the girl since childhood.

Finally, she took a glimpse in Jacob's direction, he was watching Jax make his way down the stairs, "...Shouldn't have brought you here."

He looked at her again, he always had this ghost of a smile on his lips, "It's fine, Ronnie. Like the thrill." He even wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him teasingly. When he noticed how tense she was, he paused, the skin of his forehead wrinkling subtly. She wasn't used to things like that - any type of worry over her. The two weeks really had changed shit and it was almost scary to know she was glad she'd thought of him in her wild panic back then, came to him while she was bloody and bruised. A lot of people would've closed their door on her, no matter how many contacts and people she may know - they weren't friends. No one was really friends around here.

"Just...stay close to Jax, okay?"

"Jax is good lookin' and all, but I don't really swing that way, V."

"I'm serious."

"So am I—Ouch!"

Her foot met his shin fast, and for a second, he hopped on one foot, nose wrinkling in a cute way. Veronica narrowed her eyes, "Don't be a pussy."

"You hit hard. Y'know, if you wanna get rougher in bed, Ron—Okay! Okay, I get it!"

He was smiling again, and for that, it was a small relief. Tension around her shoulders relaxed a bit - she was going to get a knot in her neck if she kept hunching in on herself like that. "Be serious! Follow Jax." He did what she said, descending down the metal steps as well, and she followed him, craning her head around to make sure no one was lingering behind her. As they got further and further down ( around five flights, really ), she began to hear the music, the shouting, and doors opening and closing.

Once they made it to the bottom floor, she could practically smell the sweat and blood, years of it seeping into the concrete of the building. They really needed a new cleaning crew. Another tall man was standing by the two doors leading into the main arena, arms big and crossed and tatooed. Veronica was the last one down, Jax was already speaking to the guy when she got closer.

"—nah, nah, man! It's all about consistency! You can't expect a garden to grow on it's own!"

"Sí, si, tienes razón! I've been usin' my tía's manure, one she's always using to make her garden so big and beautiful, you know? I be so busy workin', man."

"Hey," Jax lightly tapped against his broad chest, "You gotta have time and patience. Garden's are just like pets, you gotta love and respect them."

"My ma uses dry compose when she's growing tomatoes." Jacob said from beside Jax, obviously involved with the conversation.

The big guy raised a bushy brow, "Oh, yeah? They any good?"

"Ah, yeah. She's always cooking 'em fresh with her spaghetti. It's outta this world."

What the fuck.

By the time, Veronica made her way over, it looked like all three were best buds. Jax, seemingly remembering why they were there in the first place, jerked into action, "We're here to see the show. Sorry, got distracted, David."

"It's already started, but—" He finally noticed Veronica, hairy eyebrows rising high on his forehead, "Ain't seen you in awhile, V. Russians lose their luster?" When she didn't say anything, glaring at him, he scoffed under his breath, unlocking the door behind him, "Go on ahead." As soon as the doors were open, the sounds inside seemed to burst. Loud screaming, cheering, and the overpowering smell of sweat overwhelmed her senses. She only spared David one more glance before heading inside, Jax offering another friendly wave to the guard.

It was a lot like an arena, it hadn't changed a bit. There were ten rows on each side of the ring, all filled with excited watchers, yelling and throwing things. Even with the humidity and heat from inside, it didn't seem to bother them none. They were there for the show. Inside of the ring, two men were fighting - sometimes to the death or sometimes almost-to-the-death. If one of them died, it would only be unfortunate for the people who'd bet on him. Underground fighting wasn't something Veronica was a fan of, but it was close to where she started out with business. Drugs were easy to pass around in these types of places, no cops and more people willing to buy for a high profit.

Her hands were shaking inside of her jacket pockets, just being in this place again made her mouth taste dry.

"You alright?" She could feel Jacob's breath on her ear - he had to move pretty close in order for them to hear each other.

"Just peachy," she practically yelled back, pressing a hand against his shoulder, "What'd I say? Follow Jax!" Jax was already making his way to his assigned booth ( of course he would have one, everyone loved him no matter where he went. Not only were the booths expensive, but they were high and had a good view of the fight below ), plopping down in one of the three seats available.

"See! Told you I could get you in, no problem."

Veronica could see that. She was a bit surprised of how lax the security was. She was well aware Jax could practically get in anywhere anytime, but she didn't think it'd be that quick. Well, either way, now that that part was out of the way, she could head onto the next phase. Once Jacob was sitting as well, Veronica nudged her head at the drinks at the ready and pack of cigars on the small table, "Stay with Jax. I'll be back."

Jacob gripped her wrist before she could go far, silently questioning her with his expression alone, "Where're you goin'?"

"Business to take care of."

"It's always business. Last time you had somethin’ to take care of, y'didn't look so good."

Veronica stared at him for a few seconds. And he stared back. Figures, Jacob really never knew how to fucking give in. Leaning down, she brought her lips close to his ear, "Just trust me on this, okay? I can handle myself." When she pulled back, he was still eyeing her, but he released her wrist.

"Thirty minutes," he mouthed to her, giving a jerk of his eyebrows as emphasis.

"Just smoke your stupid fuckin' cigars and watch the show, asshole. I took you out for a night at the town, enjoy it." Without waiting for his reply, she moved out of the booth, and past a few rows of shouting watchers. It didn't take long to get where she needed to be, it was a familiar route to her, even if it had been awhile. Closing the door behind her ( she was so glad it was much more quieter in the east hallway, she locked it behind her - Veronica was well aware of the guard patrol and how easily she would be caught if she weren't careful.

At the end of the hallway, she could see the dim light spilling into the corridor from a door a few feet away. Muffled, low voices were inside, and Veronica took five wide steps to get to it, wrenching it out of her way. Inside, three men looked up. One was bald, another's nose was bleeding, and the last, she knew. Dex blinked at her several times, dropping the cards in his hands on the table in front of him.

"Aw, fuck!" The bald one exclaimed once he caught sight of the deck, "Knew you were fuckin' cheating!"

Distracted, Dex looked over at him, offended, "I ain't fuckin' cheating, pendejo!"

The other looked plain confused, "I thought we were playin' Five-Card Draw, man."

The bald one growled under his breath, throwing his own deck down, "This some straight-up bullshit..." But once they were all done arguing, he finally returned his attention to Veronica frozen in the door way. She could spot the glock on the table, he was lazily resting his hand, "¿Quién es ella?" The other one shrugged his shoulders.

Dex, gathering up all the cards from the table, looked at Veronica, "What you doin' here?"

She stepped further into the room, closing the door quietly behind her, "Need to talk to your uncle."

At this, all three men at the table laughed, one's neck was flexing so much, she thought it would explode or something. Probably on something - he was red in the face. Dex, though, got serious really fast, wiping at the cut on his eyebrow ( he'd probably fought earlier today ), "Why the fuck would he wanna talk to you, white girl? You got some shit to offer? You know, somethin' other than the shit between your legs."

Veronica was far from in the mood for Dex's little speech. She glared at the wall - trying and failing to do breathing exercises before she stabbed one in the eye ( preferably the bald guy first ), "Necesito su ayuda," She looked Dex right in the eye, refusing to break contact, "It's West. I fucked up."

Dex frowned at this, pausing from shuffling the cards now. Finally, after a few seconds, he mumbled, "How much you need?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Dex, I don't need any money! I need to talk to your fuckin' uncle! Tonight!"

When she raised her voice, she saw the bald one clench his hand around his gun tighter. Dex stopped him, "Y'can't come in here making demands like you used to. You cut ties. Fuck do you expect me to do?"

"So you'll do anythin' for that bitch even though she's been fuckin' West behind your back, but not me?"

At that, it went completely silent in the room. None of them were laughing any more - not even the high one. Dex glared, hands spread out in front of him, "Don't talk about Nixie."

"Don't be a hypocrite then," Veronica crossed her arms over her chest, keeping her eyes steady on Dex. If she wavered, he would immediately pounce. Or at least get his guys to do it. Any hint of hesitation could be snuffed out with ease in a place like this. Suddenly, Dex stood from the card table, the sound of his chair scooting back making Veronica jerk slightly.

With two fingers, he motioned her over. "C'mon."

His uncle's office was in the back. Down another hallway, behind the room where the topless chicks bagged and weighed, another bald guy watching them with a cold beer in his hand. When he noticed Veronica, he whistled lowly under his breath. Veronica glared, "Oh, don't be like that, baby. What's your name?" No reply from her, "That's okay. Names are bullshit anyway, puts a title on you. You got good birthin' hips, ma. Gimme plenty o' kids."

Veronica flipped him off, watching as Dex knocked on the office door. There was a muffled reply from inside. Dex stepped away from the door, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive stance, "Go ahead." And then looked at the guy, "Manuel, put your fuckin' tongue back in your mouth, holmes!"

Veronica didn't bother listening to the reply, instead putting her hand around the knob and turning. Inside, the office was much cooler than the rest of the place - a brand new AC was running in the corner of the room. There was a pretty girl sitting on the edge of the desk, speaking to Dex's uncle into his ear. When they spotted Veronica standing by the door, the uncle blinked, leaned back and said something to the girl. In reply, she smiled and grabbed her clothes from the floor - not before Dex's uncle gave her a swift tap on her behind ( which she laughed at and Veronica wrinkled her nose ). Once she was gone, Veronica was left alone with him.

He had a bunch of rings on. A nice shirt. And a lipstick stain on his right cheek, "Verónica." He gestured to the empty seat in front of his desk. She visibly hesitated, darting her eyes between the seat and him. She'd been so determined to get here, she wasn't sure what to say in order to get all her jumbled thoughts across. She sat down after awhile, rubbing her sweaty hands on her jeans - trying to come across respectful and level-headed at least. "Ain't seen you in awhile. ¿Dónde has estado?"

"Places, Mr. Rubio," Veronica murmured, her attempt at coming off casual wasn't going so well, "Around."

"With the Russians." He folded his hands over his desk, shrugging his fat shoulders carelessly, "You can say it. No judgement here." Veronica almost laughed in his face. She couldn't have been away long enough for him to think she was an idiot. All the Mexican's lips curled when they said Russians, and vice versa. No shame in admitting it. She must've looked a bit too amused for his liking, because his nice-nice face had dropped, "What's so funny?"

Veronica leaned forward in her seat - there was no point in beating around the bush, "I need a favor. You owe me." He didn't react negatively to what she said, probably because he knew she was right. He did owe her. She was the reason Dex, his nephew, was still breathing today. Whether he liked it or not, she was the reason a lot of shit didn't hit the fan in this place. When he didn't reply for a long time, she decided to speak up again, "Who're you hiding from?"

Mr. Rubio scoffed, wetting his lips with his tongue, "Cops. They're everywhere."

"Rat around here somewhere?"

"Everywhere. Got rid of 'em. Messy job."

"That's good."

"You seen Nixie?"

Veronica almost smiled, it would've been a bitter twist of her lips, "Yeah."

"How is she? You talk to her?"

"Can't talk to her so good with West's dick in her mouth."

Unlike his nephew, Mr. Rubio laughed - a loud belly laugh that make Veronica stare. "I missed you, Verónica. Y'lucky you're family, niña. Get you killed how ya' talk all the time..." He was still laughing under his breath, shaking his head. "Been holed up here a few weeks. Can't believe I used to have an office down here. It's disgusting, the yelling, the blood everywhere. Cleaning crew don't wanna clean shit, nephew don't wanna organize, and the police everywhere around here. Should've stayed my ass in Michoacán, miss mama's cooking..."

Veronica stayed quiet. Mr. Rubio was easy to talk to, he came off as this fun-loving uncle that you would always want to be around, but Veronica knew better. She knew him way too well to relax around him too much, "Mr. Rubio," he looked back at her, "I need help, okay? With West.."

"The white boy?" He tilted his head slightly at her, but didn't look at all surprised, "Thought he was long gone with the mouth he got on ‘em."

"Yeah, well - he's not. And I'm gonna be dead if he stays living."

He looked interested now, leaning forward in his seat a bit, "You asking me to get rid of him? That's your favor?" Veronica gnawed at her bottom lip, shifting in her seat. He smiled, "Never thought you'd come to me to ask somethin' like that. Must be serious."

"I would do it myself, but..."

He knows me too well. He'd kill me first. He'd kill someone I cared about - my mom, Jacob—

"I ain't gonna kill a Russian, Verónica."

Veronica's head snapped up at this, "Wha—"

He shrugged again, "Me and my people layin' low. Martha said so. Can't go against the wife."

"Says the guy who was just fucking a girl half his age—"

"Watch it," his voice had lowered - the Mr. Rubio she knew never strayed too far, right underneath the surface at all times, "You keep talkin' like that, someone's gonna have to clean your tongue. Or cut it out."

Veronica stood from the chair, it clattered behind her, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me! You owe me, Rubio! You fucking owe me! If it wasn't for me, Dex would be at the bottom of Hudson River! I called off Oakley and his guys, I found out who was stealin' from the count every weekend, I helped you do everything! And you can't do this one favor for me?! If he's not dead, I am!"

She needed to calm down, she looked crazy, she knew it. Her hands were shaking, she was pointing around wildly, her back felt sweaty. Even her voice broke. As much as she denied it, as much as she hated to admit it, she was scared - of West, of what he could do to her mother. He knew exactly where she was, he could even find out exactly who Jacob was. Who knows what the fuck he would do?

Mr. Rubio stayed calm though, he looked up at her, relaxed, "I'm not killin' anybody. And let's be honest here, you don't want the boy killed. Been 'round him too long to send someone to do it like that. It's personal, right? Take care of it yourself. Raised you better than that, kid." He paused there, watching her face, "When you came to me - all skinny, no titties - what'd I say? You're smart. You'll figure it out. You always do. That guy, that commie piece of shit, ain't as smart as you. 'S why he kept you around for so long."

Veronica remained silent, struggling to catch her breath. The walls didn’t feel too tight now.

"What d'ya got that guy around for? The one you walked in with?"

"Jax?"

"Nah, the other one."

She swallowed, averting her gaze, "He's my friend."

"Bullshit," he looked close to smiling, the corners of his eyes wrinkling, "You ain't got friends. Try again."

Veronica tried to think of a word, anything that wouldn't sound too personal but not to stranger-like either, "...Partner. A partner, okay? He helps me, I help him."

"You suckin' his dick?"

Veronica fixed him with a glare.

"Okay, okay," Rubio raised his hands in a placating manner, smiling now. When it remained silent between them, he spoke up again, "How long's it been?"

"Two weeks."

"He ain't gonna kill ya' then. Keep an eye out though. You got any problems, you can call me, Verónica. But I ain't gonna risk anythin'. Somethin' happen, I'll send my boys. If it don't then, make it 'til you break it." Veronica scoffed underneath her breath, but didn't say anything for a long time, "And if that guy's your partner, act like it. I could see you two on the cameras, mixin' business and pleasure ain't a good thing." Veronica had to hold back a scathing remark - he really was a hypocrite sometimes.

Leaning back in his seat again, he waved her away, "Tell Dex to call Dante, needa speak to him."

She turned away.

"And Verónica?"

"Yeah?"

"Lay low, okay?"

Without another word, Veronica stepped out of the office.

#verke #writings

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