#got her from full panic attack to actively smiling at me in under 5 minutes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wtnrscap · 4 years

Text

Cursed Words- Benign

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton.

Summary- An attack, a rescue, a recovery... a plan. It’s time to active Project Cursed.

Warnings- (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Swearing, fluff. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- I think I’m getting back into a flow after college and writer’s block. Again, I apologise for letting the block get kinda out of hand. I’d resigned myself to reblogging other people’s work and writing one crappy line a day. Decided I have to get myself in order. Sorry if mess up the language parts in this and as for the brainwashing explanation, this what I think happened, although I know it’s not.

Also, I’m kinda sad. This series is starting to wind down and don’t wanna say goodbye to this blushy/cocky Bucky I’ve created. Ah well, all good things must come to an end. Taglist is open. Requests are open. Prompts list here.

Ne govori - Don’t talk (Russian)

Cursed Words Masterlist

“Bucky...? Just put her down... No one has to get hurt...” Steve whispers, taking a slow step towards the edge of the compound roof. A very pale Sam follows and you gasp for air, your feet dangling as Bucky’s grip tightens on your throat.

Steve turns his head back to Sam, “You might wanna get in the air. It’s looking likely she’s gonna drop, and if you could catch her...”

“On it,” Sam jumps up and swoops like his namesake, getting an eagle-eye view of you hanging by your throat, Bucky holding you, Steve advancing towards Bucky and the rest of Avengers minus Tony and Thor watching at the bottom of the compound. He supposes they hope to break your fall as well.

“Y/N, are you okay?” asks Steve carefully, trying not to alarm Bucky. You let out a strangled noise, “Yep. Just dandy. Can’t breathe but I’ll be fine.”

“Can you wriggle free? Sam will catch you, I promise...”

“He has by the neck with his metal arm!” you snap, “I suppose the positive is, he hasn’t killed me yet...” you try to hit Bucky with your hands. He growls and his grip gets impossibly tighter, “Ne govori!”

How are you not dead yet?

“What did he say?” gasps Steve and you force a snort, “How the fuck would I know? I don’t speak fucking Russian! Don’t happen to have a plan do you?”

“Working on it...” mutters Steve raising his shield. Bucky moves his head closer to yours, “NE GOVORI!”

“Steve, I think I have a plan... Tell Sam when he gets the signal, he needs to catch me...”

“Is it a stupid plan?”

You nod your head and swing forward, trying to create enough momentum to reach Bucky’s face. He holds you fast, and for a brief minute, you don’t think you’ll reach him. Then, you swing your right arm up into a hook punch, your fist crashing into the side of Bucky’s face. Being a supersoldier, Bucky can take a punch to the face, but you have the element of surprise, a feat which works to your advantage. Bucky’s hand leaves your throat and you plummet to the ground, the sound of rushing air filling your ears. You can vaguely hear Sam screaming, “I THOUGHT YOU SAID SHE’D GIVE ME A SIGNAL!”

Fingers brush against fingers before a hand clasps around yours and a cracking sound snaps through the air. Sam yells and loses his grip and you hit the ground with a sickening crunch.

Disconnected voices warble through your ears. Dull pain shoots across your body in spasms and the sound of someone screaming cuts through your head.

Why won’t they shut up?

It takes you a minute to realise. It’s you. You’re the one screaming.

“She’s waking up!”

“Stand back! Let her breathe!”

“I think some of us should leave... Sam, leave!”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Because you didn’t catch me...” you grumble weakly, opening your eyes to too bright light and several blurry figures. The light dims slightly and Steve comes into vision with a small smile, “Is that better? I can dim it more if you want?”

“That’s good, thanks...” you groan and shift, trying to sit up. A hand grabs your arm, “Here, let me.”

In a more upright position, you can see everyone. Nat stands by the door, her head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, Sam and Steve are by the window and Tony sits next to you, having been the one to help you up. Sam steps forward arms outraised, “In my defence, when Bucky let you go, he didn’t just drop you, he kinda threw you. When I caught you, the downward force was too much which is why I dropped you and why I now have this”.

Sam waves his right arm in the air which is covered in a cast. That explains the cracking noise when he grabbed on to you. You sigh, “What is it?”

“Broken wrist. I’m not implying your heavy or some shit, just--”

“I advise you to shut up now”.

The whole room chuckles and you turn to Steve, “Is he okay? What happened?”

“I’m not sure this is a conversation we should have now...”

“I wanna know. Tell me”.

Steve sighs and takes a seat at the end of your bed, “When Bucky dropped you, he turned on me. We fought and I ended up smacking him around the head with the shield. Hard. He woke up about 3 hours ago and has been trying to convince Tony to let him go back into cryo”.

“I’ve told him to wait for you. It’s pissing him off, but I refuse to let him go back in without talking to you first,” Tony reaches for your hand and you grasp it, “Thanks, Tony. That means a lot--”

Your voice cuts out and Steve nods his head quickly, “Oh, and you’re not supposed to do much talking. Bucky damaged your vocal cords.”

“So I came out fairly unharmed?” you croak. Bruce shakes his head, “The anaesthetic will wear off in about an hour. That’s why you can’t feel any other injuries”.

“What?”

“The final injury count stands like this. Damaged vocal cords, reduced talking. Severe bruising around the neck, don’t move your head too much. Several broken fingers on both hands, reduced activates involving your hands, internal bleeding, don’t move about fast and... a broken leg, no walking for 6-12 weeks,” Bruce finishes with a wince when he sees the fury in your face. There’s a pause and then you begin to laugh. Everyone stares at you like you’re crazy. Eventually, you manage to choke out some words, “That’s damn good anaesthetic!”

Bruce flushes, “Similar to the one they use for me. You were kinda screaming a lot.”

You look around the room and a small smile spreads across your face, “Well, we have no time to waste. We have a lot to do and--“

Steve cuts you off, “You have to recover!”

“And I will recover, but I need to talk to Bucky, obviously, and I need to talk Tony. Both in private. Can you give us a minute?”

The room grumbles as people start to leave. You tap Tony’s shoulder, “Grab me a glass of water and a whiteboard?”

“Alright, what do you wanna talk to me about?” Tony asks, handing you the water and the whiteboard. You take a sip, soothing the pain temporarily, “We need rush Project Cursed.”

Tony’s face twists, “Oh no. No, no, no. Project Cursed is far from being ready. We can’t rush it.”

“Before Friday, I spoke to Princess Shuri. She thinks it’s ready, and she’s the best.”

“I’m offended.”

“Tony, the only reason we haven’t started Project Cursed is that I wanted it to be as painless as possible for Bucky. That isn’t going to happen. The more time we waste, the stronger the soldier gets. One of these days, he’ll take over completely. We have to move it forward.”

“But Bucky will never agree to it. And we have to take brain scans. That’ll take weeks in itself.”

“It would’ve only taken weeks because we wanted a full scan. We’ll have to a skimmed scan.”

“But we could miss something important!”

“That’s a risk we have to take Tony!” you begin to cough and Tony jumps up, handing you the glass of water. As you drink, Tony sighs, “Alright, alright. I’ll get the scanner set up with Bruce and you can talk to Bucky. We’ll do some scans and talk to him about the project. How does that sound?”

You manage a weak thumbs up and Tony smiles, dropping a light kiss to your forehead, “You’ve got a good heart Y/N. Don’t talk too much”.

Bucky sits as far away from you as physically possible. He doesn’t look at you, opting to stare at the wall instead. You’d tried to talk to him when he walked in, but he’d just ignored you, so now you’d been sitting in silence for 5 minutes. You sigh in annoyance, “Bucky, we’re talking abou--”

A cough overwhelms you and you blindly reach the glass of water. The glass is inches from your fingertips and you curse Tony for putting it too far away. Panic sets in as your throat is ripped to pieces when a hand rests on your back, helping you to sit forward and take a drink. You gulp down the water, ignoring the slight burn.

Bucky puts the glass back and wipes a strand of hair out of your face, “You okay, doll?”

“Oh, are you talking to me now?”

“I’m not about to let you die!”

You glare at him and Bucky shrinks under your gaze. Almost immediately, he jumps up, leaving your side but you grasp his wrist, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I can’t be around you right now...” he whispers. You shake your head and pat the space beside you, “Bucky... Last night was my fault. Clearly, I said a word, one of those horrible words. I wanted to talk to you about a plan to fix all that.”

“I’m not sure it can be fixed... I almost killed you...”

“Bucky, when I took these,” you pull the dog tags out from under your hospital gown, “I knew what was I was signing up for. I have seen you at your worst and I know, the best is yet to come. I want to get these words out your head, but you have to trust me and work with me. Please... I’m begging you...”

Bucky looks into your wet eyes and sighs, sitting next to you, “Fine. Tell me about your plan.”

Tony hands you another scan, and you trace your finger across the sheet. It alarms you, what you see. You always knew that Bucky’s brain wasn’t going to be the same as everyone else’s, but this... this was worrying. You glance up at Tony carefully, “I’m assuming you noticed this straight away.”

“I’m not a doctor... But Bruce pointed it out to me... Then Helen looked it over and we ended up sending it to Shuri. We’ve all come to the same conclusion.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and glare at Tony, “Do you understand now? Why we can’t wait?”

“Yes... I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Realistically we need more scans. Scans for when he’s sleeping, but the physical evidence will have to do...”

“Care to let us in on the secret?” Steve’s voice cuts through yours, interrupting your harried whispers with Tony. You nod your head and Tony moves to stand by the window as you lift a scan and point at it, “This is the area of the brain where the words are stored. At night, Bucky is at his weakest, that’s why he has so many nightmares. If we took sleeping scans, we’d probably see increased hyperactivity here.”

“So why are you so worried about his scans for when he’s awake?”

“Be quiet and you might find out!” you snap, “During the day, this area of the brain is usually dormant. But from these scans, we can see that it’s not as benign as we thought. There is increased hyperactivity during the day and-- Bucky are you okay?”

Bucky nods his head, clenching hard, “Just having an internal battle with the devil. Continue, by all means.”

“Right... uh... There is increased hyperactivity during the day which means that the soldier is taking over more frequently. Um...On Friday, when Bucky was with me, he was relaxed and enamoured, meaning he was at his weakest and the soldier was able to take over easily. As time goes on, it’s becoming less about the words, although they are still the core problem”.

“So what do you suggest?” asks Steve, biting his lip. You look at Tony and he stands, “Project Cursed...”

“Which is?”

“A Hydra-inspired Avengers-modified treatment.”

“Hydra-inspired? What the hell?”

“Hydra wiped Bucky’s mind. They used electrolysis, right? Electric shocks through the brain, so he would associate each word with pain, and make it easier for them to control him. He would hear a word and know he had to do what they said if he didn’t... pain. As the years went by, his body went into auto-drive, hear the words, do as they say, disobey and expect pain. Like training a dog to know when it hears the bell, food is coming, except a lot more brutal,” you explain, “We want to do a similar thing. Small electric shocks through the brain, someone says the words and associates them with something nice. He’ll be able to learn not to expect pain from hearing the words.”

“And what about the soldier?” asks Bucky, his face pale. You smile, “The electric shocks will be fed directly into the storage area of your brain, hitting the soldier. As you get better, the soldier should begin to disappear and, when the treatment is finished, he should be gone completely. We’ve had the green light from Shuri so I’m confident this could work. Although it won’t happen overnight. It’s going to take weeks, months, maybe even years. I can’t pretend it won’t be painful for you either. But it’s the best plan we’ve got.”

Bucky and Steve glance at each other, their eyes betraying a whole conversation that you can’t hear. Then, Steve snaps, “No. Absolutely not. This isn’t treatment, Bucky, this is torture!”

“I’ve had 70 years of it, pal, what’s a few more? And this should help me, in the long run”.

“In the long run! Bucky... I can’t tell you what to do--”

“You certainly try...”

“But if you do this... I can’t be a part... I can’t help you...”

“Steve... you want these words gone from my head as much as me. I’m going to need your help and support...”

Steve looks scared and your heart reaches out to him. He just wants his pal to be free, with no more pain, and this... this could set him back months, mentally. Eventually, he sighs, “I wanna sleep on it. And I think you should too.”

Bucky shakes his head, reaching for your hand and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles, “I don’t need to. As long as Y/N can be there, with me, helping me, then I don’t need to. I have more of reason than ever to get these words out of my head.”

Steve doesn’t respond. His eyes glaze over where Bucky’s hand meets yours and the slightly visible chain underneath your hospital gown, and he knows. Bucky’s made his choice, and there’s no moving him. He sweeps out of the room, closely followed by an apologetic Tony. You turn to him, “Do you mean it?”

“What?”

“That I’m a reason for you wanting to get rid of these words?”

Bucky smiles and presses a kiss to your lips, “I gave you those dog tags in the name of love. You are my biggest and best reason. You are my hope.”

Taglist:

@indecisivedolly

88 notes · View notes

sarah-writes-marvel · 3 years

Text

Without A Scratch: Avengers x gn!Reader

S.S.: Hello, heres another fic. I know Im very inconsistent with writing but Im working on it! Thanks to everyone who likes my posts I really appreciate it!! Hope you like this one!

Warnings: Car crash!!, police officers, medical staff, panic attacks... idk what else, let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 1,834

* I know it says Avengers x Reader, but it only features Tony, Nat and Bucky.... :)

** Mx: gender neutral for Mrs., Miss, or Mr. jsut an fyi for anybody who doesnt know!

MASTERLIST

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

There was a distant ringing in my ears. The sound of honking horns and brakes screeching to a stop and sirens seemed muffled. The sun seemed brighter than it had been. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and the feeling in my fingers was gone.There was debris amongst the road, pedestrians standing along the road or with one foot out of their car looking over their opened doors.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” a grey-haired woman stopped my wandering, her hands placed on my shoulders. Others stood next to her, barely within my vision through my helmet.

“I think so.” I mumbled, turning around to the wreck that I had just barely escaped with my life. My motorcycle laid in pieces off to the side of the intersection. The car that had run through the red light was wrecked, the front slightly crumpled from impact.

Police cars surround the area, immediately blocking off the road and encouraging pedestrians and drivers to detour. Emergency medical staff jumped from the ambulances, two coming towards where I stood with the older woman, and two to the man who looked unconscious in the front seat.

“Mx, my name is Alex Khan and this is my partner Trey Alpin. Do you know your name?” His voice was urgent and demanding, but not aggressive.

“My name is Y/f/n Y/l/n.” My voice wavered and shock began to overwhelm my senses. My hands grasped at my helmet, struggling to pull it off.

“Hold on, let me help you. We don't want to add insult to injury.” his partner insisted his hands hooking under my helmet and carefully pulling it off of my head.

“Alright Ms. Moon. Can you walk?” and despite it sounding like the dumbest question considering I was standing right in front of them, my knees gave out before giving them an answer. “We’ve got you.”

I turned to the older woman who still stood there with her hand covering her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you.” she replied with a simple nod and a reassuring smile before the two paramedics helped me to the back of one of the ambulances at the scene.

“Is the driver alright?” I asked after they sat me on the end of the truck, a shock blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

“Lets focus on you first then we’ll get an update on him for you.” Alex smiled.

Trey stood to the next to him jotting down notes, before setting it to the side as Alex moved to the other ambulance.

“Stare at my finger for me.” he said, holding his index finger in front of my face before shining a light into my eyes, checking for the pupil's reaction. “Good, no concussion.” He said with a reassuring smile.

He wrote it down amongst the other notes on the clipboard before turning back. “Do you mind taking off your gear so I can check for breaks or sprains?” I nodded quietly, shrugging off the shock blanket and tugging at the zipper of the leather jacket covering my top.

“Also do you have someone that you can call?” He asked, filling the silence as I winced pulling my arms from the sleeves.

“I do but my phone was in my bike’s hideaway compartment. So I highly doubt it's functional anymore.” I said, giving a small smile.

“No worries, you can borrow a phone from any of us after I check you over for injuries.”

His hands were cold compared to my burning skin as he ran them down my arms, moving my wrists careful of the road rash across my knuckles that wore through my gloves. “Does that hurt?” I shook my head no as he repeated the same motions on my other arm receiving the same response.

His hands moved to the back of my neck squeezing along the sides of my spine, eliciting a slight wince from me. “Did that hurt?”

“Just a little.”

“Sorry” he pressed his lips together and his eyebrows furrowed. He stepped to the side continuing down my back with one hand without any other trouble. “Just some slight whiplash, nothing major, just be cautious with activities.”

He moved back in front of me, his hands settling on my highest rib, slowly trailing down my sides before I grimaced at the gentle touch he was using. “Sorry” he muttered before continuing.

“So that might be a break or just a crack but you'll have to take a ride with us to get that x-rayed.”

“Uhm, can I actually make my call while you continue to check me over?” I asked quietly, my mind still a little muddled with the fact that I was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a fractured rib being my worst injury.

“Of course.” He pulled his phone from his uniform pocket, unlocking the screen and opening the keypad. “Here you go. I'm just going to run over your legs and then wrap your hands.” I only nod in confirmation as I begin typing in the number.

After a few rings, the line clicked. “Tony Stark who is this and why are you calling me?”

“Tony…” My voice cracked trying to hold back the tears that had begun to form in my eyes.

“Y/n/n? What happened? Friday get a read on the call.” he called to the A.I. frantically.

“I got into a wreck.” I said my voice wavering as tears threatened to spill over “Im at 42nd and 11th.”

“On it.” And with that the call ended, and the panic set in.

“Thanks. Can I get oxygen or something? I- I cant breath.” I say handing Trey his phone back, my hands shaking and my breathing become erratic.

“Yea, of course one second.” He agreed hopping into the truck grabbing a tank and mask, setting up and bringing it back to me. I held the mask over my nose doing my best to take calming breaths as he brought the blanket back over my shoulders.

Commotion amongst the street caused me to open my eyes back up to see Tony in his Ironman suit landing next to the street blocked signs. A black lamborghini pulled up behind him, Bucky and Nat stepping out. It was amusing to watch the police hold their hands out, trying to block the trio from entering into the restricted area, but with a flip of a badge from Nat and a scolding from Tony, they stepped aside.

The trio took a minute analyzing the damage, noting the obliterated bike that belonged to their second youngest Avenger. The plastic and metal spread across the street casting shadows from the flashing red and blue lights. The car that was stopped in the middle of the intersection with the hood crumpled.

“Oh my god, Y/n/n.” Nat was the first to wrap me carefully into a hug. “Are you ok? What happened?” Bucky and Tony stood behind her both with rage in their eyes.

“Some guy ran a red light. I’m ok.” I said casting my gaze to the other ambulance where it seemed that the driver was still unresponsive.

“The only points of concern are thier minor whiplash, the road burns and fractured ribs 5-7 on the left side. I suggest getting an xray to make sure they are only fractures and nothing more and a CT scan for any other internal injuries that I can't diagnose here. I would offer a ride to the hospital but I realize that you will have better medical technology at the Avengers Tower.” Trey listed, smiling at the three Avengers standing there.

“Thank you very much for taking care of her. Apply at Stark Industries, I’ll find a place for you on the medical staff.” Tony smiled.

“Let's get you home.” Bucky spoke quietly, and I agreed adamantly.

“They’ll have to report to one of the police officers before leaving the scene.” Trey reminded us as I grabbed my jacket and helmet.

“Thank you.” Nat said, helping me from my spot. “Can you walk?” I nodded. Setting down the oxygen and dropping the blanket from my shoulders. I gripped onto her hand and pushed against the ambulance bed with the other to get onto my feet.

I took a minute to find my balance, hanging onto Nat for support. Her arm was wrapped around my waist as she helped me walk over to one of the police officers.

“Are you the motorbike rider?”

“Yes sir.” I replied, releasing my grip on Nat, noting that Bucky and Stark were standing closely behind on guard.

“I just have some routine questions for you quickly.” I nodded my head and he began asking the questions.

After the officer finished his follow up he thanked me before Nat began to pull me away from the scene.

“Wait. I asked about the driver of the car. I haven't heard anything.” I stopped turning around to see paramedics surrounding the bed of the other ambulance.

“Honey, don't worry about him. Come on let's get you home.” Nat insisted. I pulled away from her grip stumbling slightly.

“Just because he ran a red light and hit me doesn't make him any less important. I just want to check to make sure he’ll recover.” I argued before making my way over to the commotion.

The paramedics and a few police officers were congregated near the end of the ambulance as I approached. I could hear the orders for medical equipment being called out as I grew closer.

“Excuse me.” I tapped on someone's shoulder.

“Y/n? Why are you still here?” Trey asked once he had turned to see me.

“I asked earlier about the driver. Will he make a recovery?” I asked peaking over his shoulder to watch paramedics lifting the stretcher into the back.

“He’ll make a full recovery. He'll be spending a few years in prison for this though. If you're worried about insurance coverage dont worry. Officers will get that sorted when he's responsive.” Trey explained.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I just wanted to make sure he’ll make a recovery. Thank you.” I smiled before turning back to the three Avengers waiting at the police barricade.

“Ready to go?” Bucky asked as I joined them. I simply nodded my head as Nat wrapped her arm around me again leading me to the car.

“Let’s go get you healed up. I heard Cho is working on something with broken bones. Maybe you can be a guinea pig!” Tony exclaimed with a smile.

“As intriguing as that sounds I doubt that I’m stable enough to endure whatever it may be.” I replied as I settled into the front seat of the car.

“Fair enough.” Tony smiled. “Im proud of you ya know. For that little thing you just did. For understanding that his life is still important.”

“I learned from the best.” I looked at the three of them, each having a proud smile across their face.

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

S.S: Hope you all liked it!! Again dont be afraid to request. I also realize that alot of my fics seem to have a little (or lot) of angst. Ill try and make some more fluffy fics soon! Thanks for reading!

#avengers #tony stark #bucky barnes #natasha romanov #readerinsert #avengersxgn!reader #marvel #ironman #wintersoldier #blackwidow #mcu #marvelfanfic #mcufanfic #avengersfanfic #angst #fluff #gnreader

32 notes · View notes

takingcourage · 4 years

Text

Jaime x MC Fluff Alphabet

Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Jaime x MC (Arden)

Word Count: 5,650

Note: July 8 marks the first anniversary of the Wishful Thinking finale. I’m still not over Jaime Lewis, and this seemed like an excellent opportunity to check in with him and Arden through a series of drabbles. Since I’ve already addressed some of these topics in previous fics, I’ve linked the relevant stories below as well.

I plan to release Part 2 within the next week. I hope you enjoy! : )

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Swatting away the sweat bee that was hovering around her neck, Arden trudged through the grassy acreage that lay between her and Jaime. They were still hours from the full heat of the day, but the air was muggy enough to drown in.

“You forgot your water bottle back up at the farmhouse,” she called once within earshot.

Jaime dumped the shovelful of dirt onto the pile beside him and leaned a forearm on end of the handle. “Thanks.” He peered at her through one eye, the other blinking rapidly to dispel the sweat.

“Next time, I’m bringing a bandana for you too.”

Taking a swig from the bottle, he pulled it back with a shake of his head. “My hair’s fine how it is.”

“I’m not disputing that it’s fine, just that it’s impractical in this weather. Come to think of it,” she mused, shielding her eyes with her hand, “so is that shirt you’re wearing.”

A sly smile crossed his lips as he squatted to set the bottle on the ground. “You sure you’re really here to help the people of Oak Hills, Arden?”

She brushed the question aside with the wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t still be coming out here if I weren’t. But the day’s only getting hotter. Going shirtless would clearly be the most logical course of action.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled. “I’m onto you, Mrs. Lewis.”

Squinting against the mounting sun, Arden cast an appreciative eye over his form. “And I’m looking forward to having you all to myself, Mr. Lewis.”

Jaime sighed in feigned exasperation, but she didn’t miss the decisive wink before he returned to work.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

“Jinx.”

A momentary sliver of green appeared between the calico’s eyelids.

“Jinx,” she tried again, skimming a knuckle over the curve of the cat’s spine. “You know this isn’t your bed.”

Both eyes remained firmly shut.

Jaime stretched an arm over Arden’s pillow to stroke the feline behind the ears. “She’s used to getting away with it until you go to sleep. You’ve thrown her off her whole routine coming to bed so early.”

"Well, she’s not getting by with it tonight. She’s just going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.”

With a chuckle, he pulled the hand away and propped himself on his elbows. “Want me to move her for you?”

“I’ve got it.” Sliding both hands under the mass of fur, Arden transferred the cat to the foot of the bed. “There you go, princess. Sleep well.”

Jaime had thrown back the blankets for her by the time she returned. “It’s nice to fall asleep with you again. And seeing you in these is definitely a perk.” She looked up in time to see his gesture toward her satin sleep set.

“You mean the pajamas you bought me for my birthday? What a surprise,” she ribbed, scooting over toward the middle of the mattress. “Though they are super comfy.”

“And they look amazing.”

Lips curling at the tired, yet sincere compliment, she unlocked her phone and began scrolling through her personal emails.

“Seriously,” he continued. “I think I need you to wear them around the house all the time. Your hips look incredible.”

Arden looked up from the screen, “They’re just hips, Jaime.” At his dumbfounded expression, she shook her head and laughed. “There’s nothing special about them.”

“You don’t understand,” he countered, reverently stroking the arc from her knee to her waist. “They might be my favorite part of you; they’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“And you’re an absolute flirt.” She bit her lip with a grin and leaned out of his reach to plug her phone onto the nightstand charger. The disappointment she heard as she moved away was visible in his eyes as well.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she clarified as she snuggled back into the mattress beside him. “Besides, if this is the reception I get for coming to bed early, I might have to do it more often.”

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.? (See also In Stasis, Back to Bubbly, and Flat)

Jaime could hear the panic in her voice when he called to check in over lunch. His fiancée’s words were measured and controlled, but he’d known Arden too long to ignore the shakiness that came along with each inhale of breath.

“It’ll get done,” she assured from the other end of the line. “We’ll make it work. Anyway, I’ll probably be home late tonight, but I can’t wait to see you.”

She begged off moments later, leaving Jaime with the smiling picture of her that popped up from his contacts. From the sound of things, she was a long way from the happy, carefree Arden she’d been when that photo had been taken.

With less than a week before tapings began for The Ellen and Arden Show, she was more stressed than he’d ever seen her. She was getting by on only a handful of hours of sleep, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d successfully convinced her to take a break from her work.

Her strong work ethic was one of his favorite things about her, but she was approaching this phase of life with a bit more can-do attitude than he would have liked. That stubborn independent streak of hers was back in full force. If it weren’t for her insistence that he continue his normal work schedule, he’d be there with her now.

Slipping the device back into his pocket, he surveyed the worksite and ticked off the tasks that remained. Edge sanding, screen sanding, staining... As he sorted through grits of sandpaper, his thoughts kept slipping back to Arden. He could easily have the first coat of stain done by 5:00. After that, he’d go to the studio and see what he could do to help.

Maybe it was time to remind her that she didn’t need to handle everything on her own.

_____

She was busy when he strolled into the studio -- too busy to notice he’d arrived until he was standing across from her at one of the staff writing tables. “Hey!” she jolted, her reddened eyes trying to focus on his face. “Is everything okay?”

Jaime lifted a thick brow. From the mock scowl she gave in return, she’d taken his meaning.

“I’m fine, Jaime. I just don’t know how we’re supposed to start filming in three days when our set still looks like that!” She pointed at the bare-bones stage on the other side of the room. “The electrician had a family emergency, and we still haven’t gotten the custom flooring that we ordered from the store downtown.”

“Listen,” he urged, stretching out a hand to help her up from the chair. “When we head out of here tonight, I promise we’ll be leaving things in much better shape. But I need you to do two things for me first.”

“What?” she inquired, her tone verging on apprehensive.

“Let me hug you.”

In spite of her initial reluctance, she stepped willingly into his arms. “What’s the second?”

“Eat some dinner while I take stock of where you’re at.”

“But I don’t have time to--”

“There’s a bag of Chinese in your makeup room.” He dropped a kiss on her crown as her grip tightened around his waist.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in makeup since we were, like, nine.” Arden took a step toward him and he dipped closer to hear the words she murmured next. “It’s kind of hot.”

“What? There’s no way that’s true,” he countered, hoping that the makeup was enough to conceal the blush that was stealing across his face. Two months into married life, he still turned to putty every time she used that tone.

“Did Maggie even touch your hair? It looks the same as always.”

“Just some hairspray.”

Mumbling something about the unfairness of genetics, she sashayed over to the mic station for final adjustments. Within minutes, they were ready to begin. He joined her on the stage and waited for the lead cameraman to give them the signal.

Beside him, Arden slipped easily into her on-air persona. “Looking for something to do over the long weekend? We’ve got a project that’s fun, easy, and good for the environment. It’s great to do by yourself, with friends, or even with your kids. Here to help demonstrate, we have a very special guest...”

Jaime tried to look into the cameras as she completed the introduction, but it was difficult to drag his gaze away from her. Seeing her in her element like this -- getting to be a part of it -- was nothing short of amazing.

“Thanks, Arden,” he took over, finally directing his attention toward the studio. I’m going to show you how to make a window box planter out of things you probably already have around the house...” the narration slipped from his tongue with the ease of practice. They’d been planning the segment for weeks, and he’d lost track of the number of rehearsals they’d put on in the garage.

She followed the steps as he began the demonstration, and he caught her quiet giggle as she showed off the tools on her workspace.

They’d worked on projects together dozens of times, yet this experience was something new. It was a true intersection of their interests: a sign of what the two of them could do when they pieced their talents together. And although it was his first appearance on The Ellen and Arden Show, he had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t going to be his last.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

“What was the order you just tried?” Arden bellowed, popping her head out of the small coat closet. “3-1-5-7-8? Try 3-1-7-5-8 instead. I think the diagram shows that the third number is 5, not 7.”

With the flick of his wrist, Jaime tested the new series of numbers. Feeling the tension of Arden’s gaze, the thanked his lucky stars for the old rotary phone he’d found at Paula’s one summer. He’d never have guessed that his days of dialing fake numbers in the attic would come in so handy.

As the dial returned to its original position, a mechanical click came from the door on the opposite side of the room.

“C’mon! We’ve got to see what’s in the bathroom.”

He’d just had a chance to complete a once-over of the tub before Arden burst in behind him, tossing open all the cupboards in her frenzy. In self preservation, he stepped back and flipped through the almost-familiar pages of the appointment book they’d started with half an hour before. Having noticed the prevalence of leaf-inspired last names, he started comparing entries against the trees he could see through the painted window.

“We’re down to... 27 minutes,” she reminded after a brief pause to consult the digital readout above the main door. “If we fail this, that serial killer is coming for us with a hatchet. I refuse to die that way.”

With an absent nod, he flicked through another few pages, grateful that she couldn’t see the way his eyes had rolled upward at her latest outburst.

“Here, just let me do it,” she insisted, sliding behind him to trade places in the tiny room. “You go over to the sink and try to figure out the order on these medicine bottles.”

Sighing, he surrendered the book and made his way to the counter. Who decided escape rooms made for fun dates? This is awful. He craned his head out the door for a peek at the clock. Phew. Only 26 more minutes.

Arden’s head spun over her shoulder. “This is fun, isn’t it? Why do you not sound like you’re enjoying it?”

Studying the labels on the bottles, he offered a distracted, “It’s fine. We can talk about it when we’re out of here.”

She casually dropped the appointment book on the tank of the prop toilet, eyes locked on him as the cardboard hit porcelain. “This is no good if we’re not a team. What’s wrong?”

“It just feels like you’re coming on a little strong here,” he admitted, running a thumb along the lip of the glass bottle. “Like you’re trying to do all of this yourself because you think I can’t. I know I’m not as good at this stuff as you are, but I’d like to think we can work together.”

She sidled next to him again, but this time he had her entire focus. “My bossy side really comes out when I’m under pressure, doesn’t it?”

Cocking his head to the side, he offered a reluctant nod.

The next thing he knew, she’d hopped onto the tips of her toes for a kiss. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

“I know,” he assured, feeling a new sense of confidence as her lips met his. “Ready to kick butt for the last 24 minutes?”

“Let’s make it twenty,” she challenged, reaching for the address book.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting? (See also OTP Prompt #25)

Lukewarm coffee in hand, Arden extracted herself from the car and proceeded up the steps of the porch. As she’d come to expect on the days when Jaime worked from home, the front door was unlocked.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” her husband greeted as she latched it behind her. He appeared a moment later, his thoughts matching the warmth of his face.

In spite of the splitting force between her temples, Arden grinned in return. Jaime wasn’t a cure for headaches, but he had quite a talent for making her forget about them.

“Come with me.” He hoisted the heavy briefcase off her shoulder and caught her fingers with his other hand.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” she giggled, allowing him to take the lead as they wound through the entryway and into her office.

“Tada!” he announced, pulling her onto the carpeted floor.

Beside her desk sat the cabinet she’d purchased a couple of weeks before. It looked even better in person than it had online, and it filled the space between her desk and window perfectly. But even so, the pressure in her head returned as a tidal wave. As she stepped closer, it crashed over her in a torrent of hot tears and shallow breaths.

“It was on the front porch when I came home for lunch, so I decided to put it together as a...” His words fell short as he glanced back at her. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“I wanted to do it.”

She knew the complaint sounded shallow and pathetic, but she’d been operating on a short fuse for the better part of the day and her patience had worn extraordinarily thin.

“I had no idea,” he whispered, concern etched in his brow.

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about, but I was looking forward to building it,” she admitted, plonking her travel mug on the desk in front of her.

“You’ve been working such late hours the past several weeks. I thought it would be nice for you to come home and have it done.”

With his explanation, it was easy to see how he’d come to such a conclusion. “True,” she conceded. “But sometimes it’s nice to work on something that has an actual, finished product.”

His full lips teased a smile before he opened them to speak. “If that’s what you’re looking for, I have a suggestion.”

“Hmm?”

“You remember those brownies I was telling you about last week? The ones Kyle brought to the worksite?”

“Yeah?”

“I got the recipe from him today, and we have all of the ingredients we need in the cupboard. Maybe we could test them out together? We’d have a finished product.”

“And we’d get to eat the finished product,” she highlighted, eyes widening at the prospect. “I think that’s exactly what I need. You’re brilliant, Jaime.”

Beaming, he tossed the hair out of his eyes. “Meet me in the kitchen once you’ve changed?”

“You’ve got a deal,” she agreed, already making a beeline for the upstairs bedroom.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

“I received an email from Tara Simpson yesterday afternoon, out of the blue,” Jaime began, breaking the post-breakfast Saturday lull.

“Who?” Arden gave her coffee a vigorous stir until she was satisfied with the rich caramel color.

“The Northbridge Parks and Recreation Director,” he clarified, pouring himself another mug. “She’s interested in getting my feedback about a trail project for Memorial Park. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Cup already on its way to her mouth, Arden took an extra-long drink to buy herself some time. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned a hip against the countertop. “She's probably heard that youv’e been helping clean the mountain trails outside the city.”

Jaime’s eyebrow dipped with suspicion. “That park is owned by the state. It’s outside of her jurisdiction.”

“Eh, she must have heard people talk about it.” With a shrug, she pulled open the dishwasher and slotted her spoon into the plastic basket. ”There are a lot of people who love what you did out there.”

Brooding over his still-steaming mug, he watched her behavior curiously. “I know you had something to do with this, even if you won’t admit it.”

Arden knew her husband was smart and capable, but sometimes she managed to forget just how clever he was in addition to everything else. She wasn’t sure how he’d found out about her involvement, but denying it further wasn’t any use.

“I might brag about your work from time to time. If people hear that bragging and decide to contact you for services...” her voice rose as she let the implication linger.

“Then thank you for being my cheerleader, even when I don’t know it.”

“You’re welcome.” With an impulsive sigh, she returned attention to her mug. Hopefully his cleverness wouldn’t extend to finding out about the hints she’d been dropping in the governor’s ear during the last soirée they’d attended together. She never meant to meddle, but he was the perfect solution to so many of the community’s needs. She couldn’t help wanting to hype him up as much as possible.

“You’re looking pretty shifty over there. Am I about to get a call from the mayor too?”

Arden nearly choked on the sip she’d just poured into her mouth. “Something like that,” was the only reply she could eke out.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Basket of clothes perched on her hip, Arden stared after her husband’s retreating figure as he passed by the laundry room. Jaime was acting suspicious.

He’d fallen into many of the same patterns he had at Christmastime: trying to keep his distance when they were both home at the same time, working for hours inside the freezing garage instead of coming inside to use the table, having sneaky conversations with Opie when he didn’t think she was within range to hear...

He was trying to plan a surprise again. She just knew it.

Not knowing anything else was starting to drive her wild.

Just like Christmas, she was certain to overhear details sooner or later, but she wasn’t sure she had the patience for happenstance. Readjusting her hold on the basket, she followed him up the stairs to their bedroom.

“So...” she drew out in an inviting tone as she dumped the warm clothes on their bed. “Our anniversary is only a month away. Have you thought at all about how you want to celebrate?”

He took a step toward the bed and snatched the collar of a T-shirt to begin folding. “I’ve got a few ideas, but nothing solid.” Technically, that’s true.

“Technically?” Arden asked, scrutinizing every movement as he tucked in the sleeves and set the folded square on the mattress.

Don’t think about it. Nope! I’m thinking about...fire engines. And walruses. Totally random things.

She was right! His thoughts were only this evasive if there was something he was trying to hide. Arden got his attention by tossing a pair of socks at his shoulder. “Are you trying to keep something from me?”

“No...” he attempted feebly, returning the sock roll to the small pile she’d started.

“You’re such an awful liar, Jaime. Even before my powers, you were never any good at getting things past me.”

“I’m not lying, but I’m not going to tell you everything right now either. You’ll find out eventually.” With that, he kissed her cheek and vacated the room before she could overhear anything else.

A little put out by his abrupt manner, she couldn’t resist asking, “What happened to being an open book?”

“I’m not keeping you from reading it,” he called back from the stairway. “I’m just making sure you do it in the right order to avoid spoilers!”

She turned back to the laundry with a grumble. It looked like she’d have to wait for happenstance after all.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

“...then I’d like to get some ajuga for this big patch over here. I’ll get plenty so we have it for...”

Jaime’s words were interrupted as she caught the motion of her father’s front door swinging open. “Hey, dad!” she waved through the fence. Harry ambled to the near side of the porch to survey their work in the flowerbeds.

“Hi, pumpkin. Your yard sure is looking good.”

“We’re coming for yours next weekend,” Jaime promised with a smile. “I was just telling Arden about what I’m planning to use for ground cover by the stairs. How’s your morning going?”

“Can’t complain. But my remote died and the channel is stuck on the news. Do you happen to have any spare AAA batteries? It’s almost 11:00, and I wanted to watch that new show on the History channel.”

He’s getting a whole crate of batteries for Christmas.

Hearing Jaime’s thought, Arden had to avoid his face to hold in her laughter.

“Lemme check,” Jaime volunteered, slipping off his gloves before making a quick trip into the house. Wasting no time upon his return, Arden watched from the flowerbed as Jaime vaulted himself over the fence and sprinted to pass the box to her father through the porch railing. Smothering her giggles under her gardening glove, she almost managed to go undetected.

“Here you are, Harry. If you’ll excuse the sound behind me, I think your daughter is laughing at me.”

“It’s better than laughing at me, I suppose. Thanks!”

“Enjoy your show. See you for dinner!”

Returning to the fence, Jaime propped his arms on the pickets and stared down at her. “What’s so funny over there?”

“You’ve always given me so much crap for scaling the fence to come and see you that first day.”

“You were right: it was a lot faster than going to the gate.” As if to demonstrate, he hitched his leg over the fence and dropped back into their yard.

“I’m glad we finally agree. Looks like I’ve rubbed off on you after all.”

Approaching, he squatted down in front of her and brushed the errant strands of hair back under her bandana. “And where’d you pick up this sudden love of gardening?”

Though he posed the question in jest, his brown eyes were tender as well as teasing.

“Touché.” Weed pulling had become unaccountably satisfying once it was their flowerbed she was tending. “I guess we’re both rubbing off on each other.”

“Funny how that’s still inevitable after all this time.”

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Opie rolled to face him on the area rug, staring up at Jaime with soulful eyes. He gave the dog a good scratch behind the ears, increasing his speed as the animal’s tongue lolled out one side of his open mouth.

Arden snickered from the end of the couch.

“Are you laughing at Opie’s tongue action?” Jaime rubbed the dog’s muzzle, letting out a chuckle of his own as the creature wriggled closer.

“No, look at what Maggie just sent me.”

He did as instructed, his fingers brushing her calf as he took the device from her hands. “Is this on ClickIt?”

“Yeah. They’re writing cringy listicles about us now. Guess that means we’ve made it big.”

“23 Reasons We All Love Arden Gale,” Jaime read aloud, though the words felt almost foreign in his mouth. He was used to reading Arden’s writing, but reading what other people wrote about her was an entirely different matter. Feeling his hackles rise, he thumbed through the entries with trepidation.

Her hair, her smile, her puns... Not even halfway through the list, his head was spinning at the bizarre sensation of seeing his wife’s image on the familiar site.

#14. Her pencil skirts. Seriously, have you seen her hips?

His finger slowed before reversing course.

“The one about my hips?” she asked knowingly.

“Yeah. I mean, they’re not wrong. You know how i feel about them. It’s just... I can’t believe people are posting stuff like that.”

“Does it make you jealous?” Slipping off the couch, she sat cross legged beside him on the rug. Jaime accepted the hand she placed in his lap, sighing contentedly as she wove their fingers.

“Nah, jealous isn’t the right word. I think it’s just a little strange to see people say that stuff about you online. You’re gorgeous, Arden. That’s not a secret. But it feels like they’ve turned you into an object. They’re missing the essence of what makes you amazing.”

She squeezed his hand gently. “It’s part of being in the public eye. Most of them will never know me for real, so they’re just writing about what they can see. Not everyone knows me the way you do, babe.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Arden giggled against his lips before pressing forward in a kiss.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

“I choose...Arden.”

“it’s your turn, birthday girl.”

Determined as she was to ignore her mom’s singsong voice, the flash from her disposable camera caught Arden off guard. She blinked quickly to erase the impression of light from the back of her eyelids, then pivoted on the carpet to stare the freckled boy. The giant red square floated above one of his ears.

“Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Dare,” she announced, jutting out her chin to show that she wasn’t afraid of whatever he had to offer. Frank didn’t scare her. She’d bested him in last year’s spelling bee, after all. This was her chance to prove that she had guts as well as brains.

Tucking her flyaway hairs behind both ears, she ignored the pounding in her chest that was almost certain to develop into a heart attack.

“I dare you to kiss Jaime. On the lips.”

Her whole face turned to fire. Across the circle, the Atterly twins started snickering. A glance at her mother confirmed that her eyebrows had all-but disappeared beneath her feathered bangs. And Jaime? She couldn’t even bear to look in his direction.

“For five whole seconds,” Frank added with a smirk.

“Hey!” Olivia shrieked, “You already said the dare. It’s against the rules to add something else.” Maddie nodded solemnly at her sister’s intervention.

“Fine.” he sat back against the couch cushion and folded his arms. “One second.”

“Fine,” she agreed, feeling a surge of pride at how normal she’d managed to make the word sound. She hopped up from the floor and took a pair of steps to where Jaime was perched on a barstool. By the time she reached him, he’d hopped down to the floor.

“It’s okay,” he promised, though his nerves were evident in his tone. “It’s just a dare.”

“Yeah, just a dare.” Better get it over with, she thought as her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips.

Leaning forward, Arden tried to pucker, but she was wincing too hard for the effort to be very convincing. With a deep breath, she pushed herself until her skin brushed his, chanted a silent Mississippi, and jerked away with enough force to incur whiplash.

She knew Jaime’s cheeks were tomato red, but she couldn’t stand to look at anything other than the floor during the journey back to her seat.

Her mother’s exaggerated retching noises, the mingled chorus of “Ewwww”s, and the inevitable “Jaime and Arden sitting in a tree...” were all interrupted by the sound of her best friend scurrying out of the living room.

“Uh, I’ll be right back,” he explained before bolting out the front door.

Rattled, but victorious, she reclaimed her spot on the carpet and tried to remember the dare she’d been keeping in the back of her mind for this turn. Unfortunately, all thoughts were centered around a single truth:

For as long as she lived, she was never going to forgive Frank Lipscomb.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Arden? Ar-dennn?

Her typing slowed as she strained to hear the tenor of Jaime’s thoughts. As they grew louder, she could just make out the tune.

Arrrrr-den. Arden, Arden, Arden.

Wiping her palm over her face, she marveled at the man’s antics and tried to refocus on the message in front of her. It was a game they played at least once a week. He’d think up a grand declaration of love and move closer and closer, testing how long it took for her to hear it.

I love you. I love you even though I just tripped over the shoes that you left by the door. Again.

“Sorry!” she hollered into the hall. “I’ll move them when I’m done with this email.”

He was close enough for her to make out his footsteps now, and it wasn’t long before he appeared in the doorway to her office.

"Were you singing my name to the tune of that insurance jingle?” Question posed, she rolled away from the desk to get a better look at him.

Opie’s leash dangled loose from his hands, but the dog was still firmly attached to his heel. “I was. He loved it,” Jaime added, gesturing to the animal beside him. “And that was from all the way in the backyard, too. I think that’s the farthest yet.”

“It’s like our own personal homing system,” she considered, stretching out a hand to beckon Opie toward her. She heard the faint tinkle of a bell as Jinx abandoned her perch and made her way forward for some attention of her own. Arden lowered her other hand to accommodate both animals. “As long as you’re thinking, I can’t lose you. You thinking nice things about me is just a bonus.”

“I’m married to a superhero,” Jaime reminded, “How could I ever think anything else?”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic.” Retrieving the hand from Jinx’s back, she prodded his chest with a pointed finger. “But I love you so much,” she admitted, eyes giddy with humor.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like? (See also The Girl Next Door and OTP Prompt #10)

The mattress dipped as Jaime climbed back into bed. Arden rolled onto her side while he closed the distance, and they met somewhere in the middle in a tangle of limbs. He’d been away long enough for his legs to be cold, yet the feeling of his skin against her own was still a comfort.

“It’s pouring down rain,” he informed, the words somewhat muffled by her pillow. “I had to follow Opie around with the umbrella.”

“Poor little guy.” She traced a hand across his shoulder blades, trying to transfer her warmth to him. “And poor you. Thanks for taking him out.”

Jaime kissed her forehead and tugged her leg around his waist.

They fell into comfortable silence, content in the ebb and flow as their breaths synchronized. Arden could just hear Jinx padding back up the stairs for a post-breakfast nap under their bed.

“This is nice,” she hummed into his chest.

“It is.”

“It’s just a shame our first Saturday as a married couple is so rainy and gross.”

His chest shook with quiet laughter. “Like you wanted to do something outside in the middle of March.”

"I’m just saying. It seems like an ill omen or something.”

Jaime shifted his weight, separating from her just enough to meet her eyes in the muted light. “I think it’s a sign that we need to spend the day testing out all of the blankets people gave us as wedding presents.”

“And drinking coffee.”

“Of course. With pancakes?”

She huffed in surprise. “I’m offended you even have to ask. Pancakes are a must. We keep that stash of frozen blueberries for a reason.”

Jaime nuzzled into her cheek, his breath heavy at her throat as he spoke, “I know we’re only a week in, but marriage so far? It’s pretty great.”

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime lewis x mc

17 notes · View notes

cafephan · 6 years

Text

meeting dan and phil - the full experience (7/5/18)

firstly, i’ll put this under a read more bc it could be a long old post

before we get into things i’d just like to thank @phangirlingforphan for being my rock throughout the entire day and coping with my many meltdowns, but here we go:

so i won’t bore you with the pre-build up (though if you follow me on twitter you’ll have seen it lmao), i’ll cut to when we arrive at the venue - dead on 2:30 which is the earliest we should’ve arrived, and the queue is already huge, so we were near the back, namely because i couldn’t get my makeup right and made us late leaving my friend’s flat – fifteen minutes than I ideally wanted to leave, because i wanted to be early, that’s a thing that happens a lot but anyway

we queue for a good ten minutes – during which time marianne is stood in the window just staring at us all and we’re just staring back like what’s good are you going to tell us why we’re not allowed in yet or

eventually we start being allowed in and all get wristbands (the attendant saw my wristband I bought when I saw the vamps last month and was like “ah I love the vamps I saw them the other day in birmingham!” which actually did wonders for my nerves for a while which were already in overdrive despite lily’s many many attempts to calm me down

so then we go down about eight flights of stairs and get directed into a big room (you saw it on dan and phil’s insta stories, the room with the dancefloor) and the tables that are set out are all already filled (because we were at the back of the queue) and the sweets that were set out were all on this one table that had about nine people around it and I’m 99% sure they stole them all which was sad bc sweets would’ve actually really helped me, but alas they were all gone so I was like fine whatever and we went and stood near the back of the room and I was tweeting like mad trying to calm myself down and distract myself because not only was it the hottest fucking day of the year I was also about to meet my absolute favourite people, the people that were, for a long time, the only source of happiness I had, and I was freaking the fuck out, and my face was practically glowing bc I was so warm, and the bottle of cooling spray I bought that morning was doing fucking nothing to help me and the room itself was boiling bc it had no windows.

about fifteen minutes passed and marianne came back around the screen and explained that dan and phil were about two minutes away, and we’d need to queue along the side of the dancefloor and we were allowed a selfie (“that don’t worry, dan will take with his long arms”) and one thing for them to sign, and basically to just have fun with it all – which, I was still freaking the fuck out and could barely stand up (but of course there were no free chairs so I was just stood there on my shaky legs) so literally couldn’t just have fun.

and then they arrived.

everyone lost their shit, obviously (i filmed their entrance on my twitter, which I’m going to be promoting a fuckton in this post bc it’s where all my content is, and I’m ridiculously active on there and you should follow me @bloggerhowell) and they said something that I couldn’t hear because a) I was at the very back of the room b) my heart was pounding in my ears c) I was still overwhelmingly warm and was so uncomfortable I couldn’t focus on anything and then they disappear behind the screen and 90% of people swarm to queue.

I took advantage of the now empty chairs and went to sit down before I collapsed – whether it’d be from my own anxiety or the heat, I didn’t know, still don’t – and was just dousing myself in this cooling spray and fanning myself but nothing was working, meanwhile lily is holding our place at the back of the queue and keeps looking over to check I’m okay – which I’m not, I could feel my anxiety getting worse with every passing second, but I didn’t want to ruin her experience so waved it off as being generally fine.

Eventually I accept that my face just isn’t going to calm down and my first and only pic with dan and phil I’ll ever have will have me being a glowing tomato face and my self-hatred will intensify every fucking time I look at it, but I joined the queue again nonetheless.

Whilst we were queueing I kept spraying the cooling spray which is doing fucking nothing, and I kept tweeting to distract myself, when it comes to a point where I feel something I haven’t felt in a good few weeks, and immediately my mind starts spiralling and running away with itself because on top of everything else, I can feel myself beginning to have a fucking panic attack. So I immediately start going through all the exercises I learned at therapy (none of which work, but they’re all I had) and start rationalising with myself about the fight and flight response and all that shit, and then I remind myself which two people are now only like twenty or so steps away from me. So I took another step forward and firmly plant my feet on the ground and do more breathing exercises and rationalise with myself that it’ll all be worth it when I get around that screen, despite my glowing tomato face and the fact I’m sweating like a pig (which happens normally, just so much worse in hot weather), and somehow that helps a little. I took another deep breath and tried to focus on something else that’s present in the moment, to ground me.

So I start watching people coming back around the screen that have just met dan and phil, and every single person is fucking bawling their eyes out, which makes me significantly worse. I’ve always known that if I were ever lucky enough to have the chance to meet them, I’d break down in front of them because you know, it’s them (along with many reasons I won’t go into) and somehow seeing everyone else crying makes me like yeah okay so it’s definitely going to happen great

At this point the guy who works at city hall walks down the line and tells us to get our cameras and what we want them to sign out ready for when we meet them, so I get out my tweet collage from the plastic wallet it was in and cling to it for dear life, and it crinkles under my grip which makes me angrier at myself because I wanted to print it out on card but didn’t have time to go and buy any because I’ve been swarmed with uni work and just had no time. So by this point, I’m still borderline panic attack, now hating myself more than usual, and still warm beyond belief.

Lily keeps asking me if I’m okay, which evidently I’m not, but I don’t want to ruin her experience so I nod, until one time I just say “no I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack.”

It’s at this exact second that I hear actual dan howell laugh, because I’m that close to the screen now.

I take a deep breath and grip my paper tighter (then swear under my breath at myself for it) and pin my fringe back – since I don’t need another reason to make myself warmer – and start tweeting again, and this time it’s more of a distraction than it has been before.

I tell lily again that I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack, she tells me I won’t and I’ll surprise myself with how well I’ll do, and that if she can meet them once before and be absolutely fine, then I will be too. I don’t believe her, considering lily is infinitely cooler and more put-together than I am in every way, but I nod and focus on my breathing (and tweeting again)

Now it’s just one group of friends in front of us in the queue, and we’ve been hearing their conversation the whole time, and they’re all so excited, and I watch as one by one they all come back around the other side bawling their eyes out, which makes me take another deep breath and tell myself that now in about a minute, that’ll be me

Then the last person in front of us turns the corner.

Now we’re standing beside Marianne who makes awkward small talk with us:

“are you ready?”

(lily replies for the both of us because I’m genuinely too panicked to speak) “yeah, I think so, it’s just a bit surreal”

“you’ll be fine, don’t worry!”

Lily asks if it’s okay for us to film each other’s experiences and Marianne says yeah of course, and then she turns to me and says “are there any bags you want me to hold for you?”

So I hand her my backpack and tatinof tote bag, and she says “ah, someone was here before then?” and I laugh awkwardly, because my throat has closed up entirely – I can hear dan and phil talking literally three steps away from me – and then Marianne takes a step to the left, nods and then looks back to me

“ready?” she asks, and I don’t even respond, because I’m not, literally not in the slightest. I didn’t have time to rehearse what I wanted to say to dan and phil, I only have a tiny piece of paper for them to sign, I still look like a glowing tomato (despite lily telling me I looked fine) and I just could never prepare for it

“off you go” she holds out her hand to gesture me to go, and so I do.

And there are dan and phil, already smiling at me.

Phil immediately stretches out his arms and says “hello, nice to see you!” and hugs me. By this time, I’ve cracked. I’ve started crying though tears haven’t fell yet, but my voice has gone.

Whilst this is happening, dan leans over to look at me and smiles too – which, as I’m watching the video back right now, he’s got his sweater paws which is making me more emotional – and I hug phil for like two seconds – during which time dan is smiling so widely, I don’t know if he could already sense how nervous and close to crying I was – and then I move in to hug him, and he says “hi there, thank you for coming to see us” and I take a step back genuinely just to stare at them for a second because holy fuck dan and phil have their sole attention on me right now

Phil says “do you want us to sign anything?” to which I say “yes please” – my voice has cracked, keep in mind, there’s no mistaking they know I’m at breaking point tears-wise, but they don’t comment on it, and phil says “of course!”

It’s then that I hand them the tweet collage, and they spend a second or so looking at it before moving in to sign it, during which time I explain:

“It’s basically a tweet collage saying how I was never going to meet you and then I am”

And phil glances at me and smiles – whilst dan is signing it – and says “aw, well look where you are now!” which, honest to god, might be the most meaningful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s obviously me overthinking and making connections that aren’t there because obviously he’s talking about being at the meet and greet when I said I never would, but without going into detail (this is about dnp not me) I’ve gone through a lot of shit in life and have been forced to overcome some really difficult stuff, and to hear those words come from one of the two people that were basically the only constant I had during all of those times just meant the absolute fucking world to me and I really am in such a different place to where I was when I first found them, a better place than I was, and it just meant so much to me

** insert a genuine half an hour break where I just had to go and cry after writing that last paragraph sorry if the tone is different from here on out **

And dan sings “things come true!” whilst phil signs his name

Then I say “can I possibly get a message or… something, I don’t know what, whatever you feel” and phil nods and smiles then sets to writing something at the bottom of the page, and whilst he’s doing that dan says “do you want me to take the selfie for us?” to which I nod and phil takes a step to the side so I can fit in between them

And I say “can you, please?”

And dan looks down at me (keep in mind, I never have people looking down at me, in 95% of situations I’m the tallest person there), smiles and says “of course I can!”

Then – I only just heard this now despite it being my seventy seventh (approximate) time watching the video – dan says “alrighty” in that way he does and flips the camera around

I say “can we take loads in burst, so one might be decent?”

And dan laughs and says “oh yeah, in case I don’t blink in all of them” and phil says “let’s burst it up!”

Then I ask for a hand-holding picture and they’re like yeah of course and so I take their hands – which, by the way, are huge and warm and so soft, like unbelievably soft – then we get into position and dan snaps ten pictures in the space of like three seconds, during which he tries to wink but it happens too fast and in the end I just have about three half-squish-half-derp pictures of dan, and phil goes from smiling to a kind of duckface then smiles again, and I just progressively move my head further to the left – and consequently closer to dan’s shoulder which wasn’t the intention, I just could see out of my peripheral vision they were changing their expressions but I didn’t know what to do so I just moved my head more to the side apparently

And dan giggles – yes, giggles, cutest fucking sound I swear – and holds my phone down (this is on my screen record video, by the way, so I have some amazing shots of like dan’s chin) and he says “awesome! Well thank you so much for watching our videos, we really appreciate it, and phil says “yeah, thank you!” and dan hands me my phone back

At which point I tell myself, Kirsten you’re never going to get this opportunity again, go in for another motherfucking bear hug, which I do

Which is when dan lets out a soft little ‘oof’ sound and then chuckles and says “aw”, and hugs me back a lot tighter than the first time

And whilst I’m moving over to hug phil, dan says “well I hope you have a lovely time at the show tonight”

Phil also hugs me back a lot tighter than the first time, and dan again is smiling whilst I’m hugging phil

And then I say “thank you so much, seriously” and dan says “thank you!”

And as I’m turning to walk away – v v v regrettably, may I add – I’m already cursing myself for not saying any of the things I wanted to say, needed to say to them because I know I’ll never get another chance, lily shouts “Kirsten you need to take my phone!” because I need to film her meeting them so I dash over to get it and dan and phil both laugh and phil says “oh do you need to take her phone?” and then I dash back over to the other side, waving to them as I do, and say “bye then!” more cheerfully then I expected I’d be able to muster, and they smile for a second before turning their attention onto lily and I spend the next minute stood in front of them filming for her

Then we have to unfortunately leave them and get our wristbands cut off and get given our VIP tote bags and the security guard hands me my bags back, and the guy struggles to cut off my wristband because I have the vamps wristband and the standard ii wristband on already and nearly cuts me as he eventually gets it off, and then lily and I walk over to one of the back tables and she starts excitedly texting and calling people and tweeting her pictures and I just… break down.

I’d held it in – somehow – in front of them with the exception of my voice cracking, for all that time, and then was when I let it all out. Lily stopped her phonecall to comfort me, but I was inconsolable for a good two minutes at least, during which time I’d tweeted ‘well… that happened’ and people that knew I was meeting them were tweeting me back asking how it went and asking to see the pictures and the few friends I have were dming me demanding to know how it went and it was all just too much for me so I just kind of collapsed and rested my head on my arms and just let myself weep however much I wanted, I was letting out my anger at the weather, the anxiety that thankfully wasn’t at panic attack level anymore, and the overwhelming sadness that I’d fucked it all up for myself, the one chance I’ll ever have to meet them, and I didn’t fucking say anything or do anything, my mind just went blank and I was too busy putting all my self-will into not crying that I couldn’t make myself remember anything I’d told myself I needed to say

So I tweeted the pictures, people were being really really sweet and kind (thank you if you were one of these people, if you weren’t but you liked my post about it on here then thank you too), but I just couldn’t let myself believe any of it, and I couldn’t bring myself to respond to people’s questions of how it went yet, so I got the tweet collage back out and just wanted to look at their signatures, and then I noticed what phil had written in the bottom corner:

smile :)

now I don’t know if it was because I put him on the spot to think of something to write or if it’s because he knew how obviously nervous and close to crying I was so left me a message for the future, probably the former but hopefully the latter, it still brought on a fresh wave of tears that I knew I couldn’t have held back if I tried

so once I’d cried over that, I tweeted a picture of it and immediately people started being really sweet once again and people started quote tweeting it saying how soft it was – which it is, obviously – but it will always have that deeper meaning for me, just like aw, well look where you are now! will (hence it being my twitter bio – that @ name again is bloggerhowell *clicks tongue*)

a favourable mention of a tweet reply I got to the collage was someone saying ‘lol you can tell dan wrote it bc of the scrawly writing’ when it was actually phil, he was just resting the paper on my arms whilst he wrote and I was just shaking like a leaf, which I still find p funny

then I realised that I still had my letter, nobody had come around to collect it, so I wiped my eyes (and grimaced when I saw how much of my eyeshadow came off as I did, I didn’t dare to even think of the state of my makeup) and walked up to one of the staff and asked her, and she said she’d go and check, and walked off

so naturally I took the time to take a couple of steps to the left so I could see dan and phil again, and I smiled when I saw the huge smile on the fan they were meeting at that point, deep in conversation, but there was that inevitable chest pang that that could have been me if I hadn’t frozen in place and forgotten how to fucking speak

the staff member came back and said “I can take it for you?” so I handed it to her and walked back over to the table – I don’t know where she took my letter, I didn’t think to look, so she literally could’ve thrown it away right there and then for all I know, even though the letter does have a lot of stuff in I wanted to say but knew I wouldn’t, so if they do someday read it I’ll have fucked up a little less – and took a deep breath and started replying to tweets to pass the time until everyone else met them

when the last person came out from meeting them, everyone kind of stopped talking, and everyone just turned their attention to the screen, and we all waited for dan and phil to step out, which they eventually did (and I filmed it and tweeted it, you know the drill by now) and then they waved at us, said they’d see us later and then left, at which point the staff members immediately started walking over and trying to usher us out but I was like hahahaha no mate not until my ugly ass handwriting is in the guestbook

so I fought my way to the guestbook and picked up the only remaining free pen and waited for someone to give me some room to write my own message – I ended up having to wait nearly three minutes until someone finished writing their essay long message so we could turn the page – and then wrote the most basic thing, but my hand was still shaking and I was still ridiculously warm – then we left and went to get a drink because I needed to rehydrate after crying out everything I had and then we waited until the show

which, by the way, if anyone wants me to do a post about the show (with or without spoilers, but if there are spoilers I’ll make sure to make it really clear don’t worry) then let me know, because I’d be more than happy to!

but yeah that about concludes my meeting with dan and phil, I do regret parts of it massively, I completely choked up and didn’t get to say anything I wanted to, I didn’t get full length individual pictures like I wanted, but it could also have gone a lot lot worse

at the end of the day, for all those two guys have done for me, I owe them my life, and meeting them was wholly indescribable. Should I ever have the opportunity, which I don’t think I ever will, I’ll do it again in a heartbeat, just hopefully as a more put-together, less-panicky and anxious person, less constantly on the brink of tears.

I didn’t get to thank them for the past eight years, I didn’t get to thank them for all they’ve done and continue to do for me, but I got to hug (twice) the people that have kept me going when nothing and nobody else could, and all in all that’s enough.

#this was... emotional to write #i didn't think i'd actually cry again but i really fucking did #hysterics for over thirty minutes #anyway yeah here's the post #def follow me on twitter there's so much more content over there #interactive introverts #interactive introverts sheffield #phan #dan and phil #remember #ii sheffield

213 notes · View notes

merigreenleaf · 6 years

Text

AU Tuesday - “Stuck With You” Part 4

(For AU Tuesday I’m writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt “A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do.” The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. These can really be read in any order because each part pretty much stands on its own. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5.)

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

Blythe glared down at the mixing bowl in her hands. She’d mixed this healing paste a thousand times and today it refused to come out the right consistency. First it had looked okay but smelled funny, so she’d tossed it out in case it caused an adverse reaction on someone’s skin or made their arm fall off or something. She should have kept that one, though, because the next had turned out lumpy no matter how much she mixed it. That, too, had gone into the trash. The third had been more of a soup than a paste, so she’d added flour as a neutral ingredient in the hope of thickening it. That had worked oh so well and now her favorite bowl was coated with something that more resembled hardened plaster than paste. It wasn’t even noon and it was already shaping up to be a day she wanted over and done with.

A familiar head popped into the open kitchen window as she tugged in vain at the spoon. “Blade! You’re gonna be late!”

As though Sol had any right to talk. She was pretty sure he’d never been on time for anything in his life. “I know. Go ahead. I’ll be there as soon as I finish this thing-”

With one last hard tug, the plaster gave up its fight, and both it and the spoon went flying towards the window in one congealed mass of failure. She winced as it took out a flowerpot before bouncing off Sol’s shoulder. At least the bowl was still in one piece.

Sol didn’t wait around for more kitchenware to be lobbed at his head. He vanished from the window, making room for sunlight to illuminate the dirt spilled over her once-clean floor. With a shake of her head, she set the bowl on the counter and reached for the broom. If only Etri had been the one at the window. He would have offered to clean up instead of scampering away and she could have gone back to working on this stubborn paste.

Her eyes returned to the empty window as it hit her what exactly Sol had reminded her about. Frit! As if this day couldn’t get any worse, she’d forgotten that she wanted to get to the bonfire early so she could talk to Etri. She let the broom fall into the corner and dashed out the door in clothes still dusted by flour to head for the troupe’s central meeting place. It was tradition for each carnival troupe to gather together for a bonding exercise on the first of every month. While this was something she begrudgingly went along with, it was Etri’s first-first with this troupe. He didn’t know anyone yet besides her and his brother, and he certainly wasn’t going to be comfortable with…

She reached the bonfire out of breath but with time to spare. Their ringmaster still spoke, his usual spiel about camaraderie and support that Blythe always tuned out because she’d heard it once a month for the past three years. Blythe had thought to ask Sol if his and Etri’s previous leader had been this dry, with the hope of subtly figuring out how Etri got around his touch aversion there, but she kept putting it off. Even if Etri had simply been comfortable with his long-time troupe or if he’d managed to avoid these get-togethers altogether, she still should have asked so she could help him here. She could kick herself for being a terrible friend.

Etri and Sol were hard to miss considering they towered over everyone else gathered in the circle. She stuck her tongue out at Sol as she walked past and instead of making a face at her like he usually did, he nodded at Etri with a worried frown. Now she felt even worse because her hunch was right. Etri didn’t seem to notice her when she stepped up to his other side. His head was bowed with his attention fixed on his boots and she had the feeling that he was using his long hair to screen out the rest of the world. The hand with the solid black mark clenched tightly at the dark fabric of his coat. Sol held his other hand and murmured something to him that had the tone of reassurance. She didn’t recognize the words, which meant he was speaking Montglacian and wasn’t a good sign because the two only seemed to speak this when Etri was on the brink of a panic attack. She wouldn’t have recommended using the language of a place Etri and Sol hated as a grounding technique, but it generally worked and she wasn’t about to suggest they try something else.

She leaned close enough that he would hear her, without being so close as to touch him, and whispered, “Etch? You okay?”

Without raising his head, he dropped his death-grip on his coat and lowered his hand to his side. When his hand brushed hers, she took it lightly in case she read this signal wrong, only to have him squeeze it as tightly as he had his coat. Etri’s relief struck her like a punch even though she always muted her touch telepathy when she wasn’t in the process of healing someone and she scrambled to build a stronger mental wall without having to let go of him. By the time she got this back under control with his thoughts on the outside where they belonged, the girl on her left-- she didn’t bother to look and see who it was-- had taken her other hand and the inevitable chanting began. She ignored the words about unity and togetherness and other things she found far too sappy and instead looked over at Etri to make sure he was handling this okay. When he noticed that he had her attention, a soft smile briefly turned up the corner of his lips and he squeezed her hand again. A smile was good. A smile meant he was comfortable and not freaking out about having to touch someone. Hand squeezing, which he was doing again, meant he was comfortable with her in particular.

Okay, all this hand squeezing was kind of strange. She leaned towards him again and whispered, “You sure you’re okay?”

That smile again, followed by another hand squeeze. He couldn’t just… talk? As she was rolling her eyes, he lifted their joined hands high enough to catch her attention. Oh. Well, that certainly explained the squeezing.

The mark on Blythe’s right hand had blossomed into full color to match the half-color on Etri’s left. Ever since she had grabbed Dray three years ago and the black marks on her hands half-changed into a rotating rainbow, she had wondered when the rest of the change was going to happen. Her left hand was still half-black, implying someone she had yet to touch. When Etri released her hand so she could look at it, she had to amend that count. The fingertip of her index finger remained black, which she guessed meant there were two more people, but who knew? Soul-marks were such a strange, unpredictable thing, and normally she hated uncertainty, but she had to admit that knowing her best friend was meant to be important to her didn’t have any downside. After discovering that Dray was one of her soulmates, she’d feared that each of her friendships were doomed to start with arson and a shoving match.

It could never be that way with Etri. She wanted to protect him and if whoever belonged to the black marks that half-remained on both of his hands so much as looked at him rudely, she’d knock them out without hesitation. With healing-induced sleep or her fists, it didn’t matter. Sol grinned at her when she caught him looking at her hand and she modified her thoughts again. If whoever was the three marks on Sol tried anything with him, they’d also have to deal with her. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her friends, although that probably meant she should be more careful where she hurled healing paste in the future.

As she vowed this to herself, Etri leaned down to whisper to her, “You do not mind being stuck with me, yes?”

She bumped her shoulder against his arm and hoped he wouldn’t mind this type of contact any more than the hand holding. “No more than your dopey brother does.”

Etri glanced over at Sol who was still grinning like an idiot before squeezing her hand again. “Then you must like me greatly.”

“Wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t. Besides, you’ve never set my pillow on fire.”

Within five minutes Sol would be telling her all about the time he managed to set a rock on fire, but for now Blythe felt she had made her point.

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

(I didn’t have a chance to write two chapters/posts this week, so for now I’m just sharing this one. If you’re curious about Dray and the arson, that happened in Part 3. As always, if you’d like to be added to the list of people I tag when I share a story, let me know. If you want off the list, also let me know. And please feel free to tag me in any stories you share because I love seeing stories in my activity feed. <3 @ageekyreader @lynnafred @the-gay-hufflepuff @firewritten @joshuaorrizonte @writtenhastily @writerlydays @ava-burton-writing @josephmxa @megan-cutler @dragonscanbeplantstoo @alittle-writer @perringcentral @an-author-in-progress @aceduchessdragoness @madmooninc @thatwriternamedvolk @elliot-orion @wchwriter @lady-redshield-writes @shadow-maker )

#writing #writeblr #au tuesday #short story #au story #soulmate au #unexpected inspiration series #stuck with you story #UI POV: Blythe #Once again I'm sneaking in a story minutes before midnight lol

22 notes · View notes

anon-luv · 6 years

Text

TOSKA -1- (ReaderXBTS)

Genre: Psyche/Mental Institution AU Romance & Angst

Pairing: ReaderXBTS(Taehyung, Jimin, Yoongi)

Summary: “Will you be able to recover and move on, or will your past continue to haunt you?”

Trigger Warning: This Fic will contain explicit language and scenes. It will address controversial topics. We understand psychological illnesses vary from case to case. All contents in the following story are based on fiction. This story will not be suitable for all ages, due to the sensitive topics it will contain. Hope ya’ll enjoy :)

Word Count: 4k+

Collaboration with @riki-leigh-c

Author’s Note:

@anon-luv Hey Guys, I am so excited/nervous to post this fic. I hope you enjoy it as much as we are while writing it. You know I love feedback, so let us know what you think. Feedback, Comments, Reblogs, Likes, and mentions greatly encourage us writers. We are going to leave the final pairing as undecided until we further develop the story. Minor Grammer Mistakes. HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

@riki-leigh-c : This is my first time writing a fic. Please bare with me, any constructive criticism would be much appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

“Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level, it grades into ennui, boredom.

White.

In most cultures, it signifies purity, comfort, holiness, cleansing, a beacon of hope.

For you, white had quite a contradictory meaning. To you, white meant prison, endless appointments, a padded room, the pages of the daily journal you never wrote on, and the shirt stained with red that laid upon his chest as the bullet sealed both of your futures. The future that had ended for him, and the one that had gotten you locked into this place.

The monotonous routine and smell of antibacterial flooded your days, causing a sense of panic. If it wasn’t for your best friends’ every other day visits, you would’ve probably collapsed of boredom.

PTSD, that is what they said it was, the hallucinations, the ones that kept you up at night. Whatever it is, it was the only way you could see him, as if he was still here beside you. You didn’t want to close your eyes, in case he disappeared. Every morning you dreaded having to leave your room, for you had to pretend you didn’t see him standing nearby or smiling at you.

It was your imagination, you knew it…. but you couldn’t deny that just seeing him was what kept you going throughout the day. Even if reality had taken him away from you, the memory of him had fooled your brain into projecting him into your everyday life.

It was 12:15……. Hoseok was late….. He was 45 minutes and 30 seconds late. What if he had forgotten to change those overused tires that you had scolded him time and time again to get changed?

Was he okay? Did he get sick? You had seen the rain falling mercilessly from your window pane.

The tapping of your fingers increasing in speed as the door opened again, but your eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure once again. It had been 2 weeks. TWO long weeks in this institution and Hoseok had yet to be late. He was always early or right on time.

The sweat forming in the palm of your hands caused an uncomfortable, sticky sensation which triggered your anxiety slightly more. A loud deep laugh blasted throughout the room, causing you to jump slightly. The same young man that you had seen on several occasions was sitting in front of the same black haired girl. She was constantly talking while he just stared emotionless at the white wall in front of her. He never addressed her back, but she never gave up. His eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours and another manic laugh exploded from his lips. His gaze moved back to the white wall and the laughter ceased almost as quickly as it began.

You glanced back up at the clock on the wall. Another 2 minutes and 17 seconds had passed. Where was he? Dark thoughts began to flutter through your mind. What if he’s had enough of you? Or what if something awful has happened to him? What if someone’s murdered him? Your breathing began to quicken, and your hands began to shake as vivid images of all the reasons why Hoseok was not there yet burned themselves into your brain, one by one. You could feel the all too familiar feeling of a full-blown panic attack start to creep its way into your chest. Breath, Y/N you thought to yourself, trying to remember the coping techniques they’d been teaching you in therapy. Gulping down air, you tried to get the attention of a warden. The sound of the door opening and closing drew your attention. Hoseok rushed in, red in the face and panting, doubled over trying to catch his breath. “Y/N” he yelled out across the room, causing more than a few heads to turn your way. He rushed over to you, already being able to see the effects of your panic attack. He put his hands on either side of your face and looked you dead in the eye. “Breath, Y/N. I’m here, I’m fine,” he whispered while using the clichè breathing technique of having you copy him. It worked though. Every time. After a few minutes, your breathing returned to normal and Hoseok patted your hair, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, before getting up abruptly. “Y/N, I’m going to have a chat to one of the staff okay? I’ll be right back. No longer than 5 minutes, you can count them, alright?” You simply nodded in response, still slightly out of it after your latest ‘episode.

There is a rush of adrenaline when people fall, it makes them feel like their insides bundle up, and make their way towards their throat forming a perfect knot just to come back down, just before they hit the ground. That’s how you felt at that exact moment as you saw Hoseok’s familiar messy mop of dark brown hair exit the room.

The numbness within your fingertips was now fading into slight prickles that you could feel crawling up your extremities. The heaviness in your chest that had felt like a piano had crushed it a few moments ago was being lifted, only leaving in its path a soreness that had begun to dissipate. Your pounding heart still beating loudly in your ears as your eyes traveled amongst the room to analyze the number of witnesses that had obtained a front row seat on your full-blown show. Much to your surprise, everyone was focused on their own task and you had gone under the radar. You assumed people were probably immune to the many spectacles that had taken place within these four walls.

There was only one set of brown eyes staring at you, and those eyes seemed to be more amused with the sudden predicament you had found yourself in, than worried. A small smirk lay upon his plush lips as he swept your body from top to bottom absorbing all your figure in as if you were a piece of fine art, on display in a museum. A shiver ran down your spine. He made you uneasy. His sporadic, maniacal laughter sounded again as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He seemed like the true definition of insane. Just as suddenly as it started, he stopped laughing and went back to staring at you. You felt your heartbeat start to quicken and your palms getting sweaty, the telltale signs of another panic attack. Hoseok made a reappearance right at the moment you had started to feel your chest constricting and your throat getting tight.

“It’s alright (y/n), I’m so sorry I got here late, I got a flat tire on the way over” he said as he sat down on the cold metal chair and scooted his way forward, closer to you. The faint smell of his cologne calmed you down automatically.

The speed of your finger tapping decreased as you examined him from head to toe assuring yourself that he was indeed okay.

“You had me worried, I told you several times to get that thing you call a car checked Hoseok” you said as you grasped his hand “I’m sorry for taking away your lunchtime, you are honestly the only reason I am not in solitary confinement right now, this place is bonkers”.

Hoseok gave you a wide smile as he looked around the area examining the patients surrounding you “Yeah… it does seem pretty crazy huh? It is only for a bit though, Y/N.” Hoseok smiled brightly at you, a smile you always thought looked as bright as the sun, before shifting his chair to sit next to you and gently pushing your head down to rest on his shoulder. “I don’t know about that Hobi,” you sighed deeply, closing your eyes while a montage of memories filtered through your brain at the use of his nickname. You breathed in his comforting scent, already knowing he would smell just like springtime. “I don’t feel like I’m getting better.”

The silence that followed your statement thickened the air that surrounded the both of you. Hoseok looked into your eyes hoping to see the familiar twinkle of hope you used to carry around before that horrible night.

“Well, you know ...Rome wasn’t built in one night. Just promise me you will try, participate in activities and let the counselors in. Please do it for me” he said pouting cutely your way. You lifted the corner of your mouth in a slight smile, but your heart wasn’t in it when you answered. “I will.”

The dorm you had been assigned lacked personality. Just like everything else, it was white from top to bottom, with a few accents of a washed out green and mustard yellow. Whoever participated in coordinating the color scheme might’ve been color blind. Despite the general distaste you had for your room’s superficial overall look, it was the only place you felt at ease in. The rock-hard bed was unusually homey, and the fact that there were no windows gave you a sense of safety for some reason. No one would be able to sneak in through your window while you slept. Just the thought of being able to see what the outside world contained while unsupervised up-close gave a chill up your spine.

The clock in your room showed 9pm, which meant there was a long night ahead and the dosage that had been prescribed for your sleeping medication was shit. You were tired, but your eyes refused to close. You knew the night that laid ahead of you was going to be long and emotionally tiring. You sat on the edge of the bed trying to practice the exercises you had gone over with your primary psychologist, praying for them to work. The silence within your room was all consuming until you heard deep screams. The words were incomprehensible, but the volume kept rising signifying the person was getting closer and closer to your room. You stood up quickly and slammed your door shut, before peeking out the window, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“Fuck you! Take me back. That fucking bastard, how dare he fucking touch my shit.” a bleach blond man about your age screamed as two male nurses dragged him, one by the arms and the other one by the waist, towards the door opposite yours. He swung his right arm straight at the nurse’s jaw, which the nurse was barely able to dodge. He was putting up a good fight, surprisingly, for his size made you think he would be much weaker. You hid behind your door a bit more, only your eyes visible now. The man screamed more obscenities as he was thrown into the room and onto the bed, and two more nurses entered the room. They held onto his arms wrapping what seemed like cloth on his ankles and wrists. One of them was holding a visible needle, you were assuming it was some kind of medication. The man was no longer screaming, and you could see how his muscles relaxed into the comfort of his bed, and his eyes drooped. A sigh of relief escaping your lips, as you noticed the nurses had finished attaching the remaining restraints on him. You closed your eyes tightly as you walked back to your bed and covered yourself completely with the blanket, the fear of what was right across the hall getting the best of you. The dorm across the hall hailed a dangerous threat in the shape of a blond-haired man, and even though his features looked peaceful and quite charming as he lay immobile upon his bed, his vile words just now meant you knew better. You felt the first of the night's many quivers in your stomach, letting you know that the horrible memories you tried to keep buried during the day we’re about to be released.

The shadow of the past, conjured now by your broken psyche, sat on your bed staring straight at you.

“It’s not real….it’s not real…..it’s not real” you kept whispering to yourself, but your eyes couldn’t stop staring at his face as he smiled….that smile you used to love “He is not here…...he is not here…..he is not here……”

Black circles flourished under your sunken eyes the following morning. It had been a sleepless night, just as you had predicted. The constant itch of checking up on your new dorm neighbor and the hallucination of who you thought would be your forever kept your eyes wandering around your room and sleep at bay. You weren’t due for a visit from Hoseok and only had a psychologist appoint late in the afternoon. You had absolutely no idea how you were going to keep yourself occupied in between. Maybe I’ll ask the nurses for a book or two, you thought to yourself as you changed into your uniform white shirt and pants, with matching slippers. You had just opened the door to step out when you noticed a number of nurses leaving the room across from yours. His room. After the sedative had worn off, the blonde man had screamed obscenities for hours, only worsening your hallucinations. He demanded over and over for the restraints to be removed to no avail. Eventually, he just wailed, long, harrowing cries that frightened you even further. As the last of the nurses exited the room, you caught a quick glance of the blonde man sitting upright on the edge of his bed, looking down and rubbing his wrists, before the nurse shut the door and began to leave.

“Excuse me,” you called after him, shrinking back slightly as he turned to face you. You averted your gaze and asked softly “is there any possibility of getting a few books to read?”

He smiled slightly before nodding, “sure, I’ll scrounge some up and leave them by your door.”

“Thanks,” you replied before indicating for him to leave. There was no way you were walking with your back to him, despite how nice he came across. You waited, back flat against your door, for a few minutes, wanting to give yourself a safe distance from the nurse. Just as you were about head towards the common area, the door across from you flung open, revealing the blonde man. His eyes were narrowed into slits and his rosy lips were positioned in an unfriendly frown. The fear that had gathered within you from the initial shock of his presence was slightly forgotten as your curious eyes traveled along his pale sugary white face. There were noticeable red marks on his wrists that made you unconsciously rub your own.

“Good Morning” you heard a deep voice say, catching you off guard. Your fly or fight system wanted to run away as soon as the words spilled out of his mouth, but your body was betraying you by staying frozen in place. He waited patiently for a response, but after examining your panicked expression he shrugged it off, and took a step forward closer to you “Yoongi’ he said extending his hand towards you.

You looked at his hand as if it was fire ready to burn you into ashes, but for some reason, your hand found his. Your voice though was not cooperating and all you could do was stare at his figure confused at the contrasting personality that radiated from him this morning compared to that displayed last night.

“Y/N?” he asked you as he read the name plaque outside your room. You nodded as you cautiously took a step back away from him. You felt exposed, and you wanted to escape the feeling of nausea that had started stirring in your gut. The white walls around you closing in as the image in front of you started blurring around the edges. The lack of sleep starting to take a toll on you. Your breathing had become visibly more agitated, but before your knees could give out, you felt another presence standing before you. The distorted image of an unfamiliar silver-haired boy came to view as he hummed a tune and encircled your body with his own as if to block you from any unwanted feelings that had lined up to once again drag you to the deepest pits of emotional hell.

“Calm down and try to match your breathing with mine” he whispered softly with a higher pitched voice than that of the blond boy who was still standing nearby, he seemed a bit uncomfortable as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

Your hands were gripping onto the boy’s shirt as if he was the anchor to your sanity. Before you knew it, the heaviness that had settled on your chest had once again faded into nothingness. You quickly stood up and pushed yourself away from the stranger embarrassed at your previous actions.

“Jimin” the silver-haired boy said quickly without any explanation before you could respond Yoongi welcomed himself to introduce you as well as himself.

“I am Yoongi and this is (Y/N), what you just did bro...thank you” Yoongi said awkwardly.

Jimin just nodded to the both of you quickly and then took off as if he was in a hurry. You looked at Yoongi once again, but before he had a chance to speak, you had already started walking off to head towards the common area, taking turns between facing forward and sneaking glances back at him to make sure he wasn’t pulling a stunt behind your back. As you made your way to the end of the hall you noticed his figure had disappeared back into his dorm. The shadow of what had happened still engraved in your mind as you walked into the common area, you just knew this won’t be the only interaction you had with your neighbor and the fear of what will come will more than likely be present throughout the entire day.

“How is your sleep Ms. Y/N” the doctor asked in a fairly monotone voice. The lack of emotion in his voice aggravating you. His presence was that of a rock, and in all honesty, consulting with a wall would probably have the same effect as this.

“To be honest like shit” you replied trying to be as monotone as he was.

“Anything we can do to aid your sleeping habits?” He said as he scribbled down what seemed more like a doodle than a note on his notepad.

“Memory Foam? Or one of those water beds. I have always wanted to try one of those.” you replied with fake enthusiasm.

The doctor took that as a queue to stare up at your figure with a serious face “Ms. Y/N, we can’t proceed with treatment without your help. It takes two to tango, so your cooperation is essential for you to improve. Now, I have registered you for some group sessions that I think will be of benefit to your case, and one of those is for patients with insomnia. That one is every night for 45 minutes, you will be learning techniques to clear your mind and be able to get some shut-eye. Also, please start writing in your journal, we find it helps patients significantly.”

You nodded no longer interested in his rant as you grabbed the paper he had placed on the table in front of you. There was a list of 3 different counseling sessions that you were expected to assist other than your 1 on 1 session. You sighed annoyed at your now crowded schedule.

The green yard in the facility premises was crowded with bodies, some familiar, and some not, ranging from various ages and genders. When you had first arrived, you had felt out of place, but as the days went on you realized you fit in strangely amongst the people that had been locked in here. You had yet to make an acquaintance, but you had already heard a few of the stories, and in all honesty, some made your past look like a fairy tale. There were a few psychos within the bunch, and the rumors that surrounded some of the people were frightening, that is why you had isolated yourself for the duration of your stay. Hoseok had been, for the most part, the only reason you had the courage to step outside of your room. You surveyed the area, making sure not to lock eyes with anyone, nurses, and patients alike. You walked slowly towards an empty seat across the yard, body tense and eyes zipping around your skull, trying to keep an eye on everything all at once. You were monitoring the people on your left when you felt a presence to your right. You stopped dead in your tracks before whipping around, bringing your hands up to your face to defend yourself against whoever had dared to get too close. The first thing you heard was manic laughter, before noticing a semi-familiar pair of brown eyes, creased at the corners, staring back at you. You just about jumped out of your skin in an effort to put some space between the laughter and yourself. You could feel your chest constricting and your breathing getting shallow. Please, not here. Not in front of all these people, you thought to yourself. You already knew it wouldn’t help. Just as quickly as the laughter started, it was over and the patient behind the laughter was sticking his hand out to introduce himself. Before he had a chance to say anything, Jimin came running over, shoving the laugher out of the way. “Taehyungie, what did I say?” He all but shouted at the guy.

The flourish of activity going on in front of you was causing your panic attack to worsen. Your hands felt like they were dripping with sweat and your throat had begun to feel like it was closing. “Y/N, it’s okay just breath with me again, shhhh,” Jimin said as he grabbed a hold of both of your hands and looked you dead in the eye.

He worked through the same breathing technique that he had done earlier, and you soon began to feel calm.

“Thank you,” you said softly, quickly letting go of his hands and dropping your gaze to the lush green grass you all stood on.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m sorry about Taehyung,” he said as he looked down at him, still laying on the grass. He leaned down and offered a hand to Taehyung, pulling him quickly to his feet.

“Taehyung, introduce yourself the way we talked about please,” Jimin looked expectantly at Taehyung, who inclined his head bashfully.

“Hello Y/N,” Taehyung said, dropping his voice significantly in what you can only assume was an effort to keep you calm. “My name is Taehyung.”

“Hello,” you replied, bowing slightly but still not lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. Manic laughter suddenly exploded from Taehyung’s lips, causing you to let out a scream of both shock and fear. You clamped your mouth, placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart and took off running towards the spare seat you had originally been trying to get to.

You took a cautious glance towards where Jimin and Taehyung were still standing, clearly not expecting your escapade. Jimin raised his hand to smack Taehyung in a playful manner behind his head. Taehyung in exchange just hung his head looking a bit disappointed in himself. You averted your eyes before they caught you looking at them, hoping it would give them a clear sign that you were not fond of strange company.

You rubbed your hands against your knees nervously as you inspected your surroundings, hoping that the loud rapid beating in your ears would eventually quiet into nothingness. You took a deep breath as your eyes landed on a red rose bush. Memories of late nights hiding in your neighbor’s yards as you laid upon his chest caused your eyes to tear up. You looked at the figure that sat beside you, a perfect figment of what had been, staring right back at you.

“Jin” you whispered softly as your eyes devoured his familiar features. A pang of pain surging from the last memories you had beside him. His plump lips smiling at you like they had many times before, the temptation of leaning in to feel their warmth taking over, but before the contact was made a voice interrupted you.

“Um…..are you okay?” said a deep familiar voice, snapping you out of the enchantment of your imagination.

110 notes · View notes

sancocnutclub · 6 years

Text

Dear @justsomewhump , seems your WhumpFairy jumped on my blog and asked if I could post the next whumpy stuff YAY it’s back!! the reason is “bc limit character sucks as fuck” and hell it’s true! Soooooo I’m going to post the part on thisblog everytime I have one.

I let you make a masterpost if you want,just let me know how you want to process tho I think your WF is going to hit you soon!

without any further ad, here the start! :D

-1H

It was always the same. Same place. Same 5 people. Same activities. Same strange looks... It was always the same until the day they decide to put their noses in their traffic. But never Emma and Killian had expected what was going to happen. He was wimply supposed to approach them, Swan’s voice in his ear all the time. He was not supposed to have a blackout. But he has…

Killian woke up in the middle of a dark street in the town, his earbud gone but it was all. It was all he could notice before it all went wrong in his life.

H-0

They had gone see Whale for a full check. Apparently everything was good. The only bruises he got on his ankle and wrist would heal in a heartbeat. Once home they go lies on their bed, Emma snuggling to his side. He should feel safe, happy, relaxed but he just seems to couldn't. He couldn't remember any of it. One moment he was next to them the other he was lying on the bloody asphalt of a small street. On the top of that, he had been gone for 2 days. He was now lying on their bed, Emma snoring softly on his chest as he stares at the wall. He was missing something but what?

Flashes of memories assault his mind during the rest of the night. Flash of dark figures, a small room,an old chair ,ropes on the floor and there was that clock on the wall ticking right in front of him. It has been more than just 2 days. He wakes gasping for air for what seems the hundred time this night and this time Killian knew what was wrong. Whomever had trapped him, they had kept him more than just 2 days he could feel it. And with magic in the town, it was a plausible possibility. It was the first thing he said to Emma once she join him in their living room. With worry in her eyes they decided to call Regina. If magic has been involved, it would change the done and who knew what had really happened to him…

All the queen have been able to sort out was the time he had been in that place. And it was dreadful… They went home still not able to take in the news. Emma was looking frantically at everything and each time she looked at him before her eyes filled with terror go away in the room. As for Killian, his look was blank, the news hit him hard, leaving him in a second state not fully here and yet not fully gone. Gone. He had been gone for two.years.

The rest of the morning had passed slowly, Emma always by his side but there was like something that was creeping inside of him and each time the sensation took hold Killian was left gasping for air, his heart beating too fast as Emma helped him to break the panic attack and breathe normally again. And right after a vision of being tied up on a chair in a small room invades his sight. Suddenly the need to get out of the room he was in was overwhelming and he almost ran away from Emma’s hold to breathe outside, to feel free again.

Killian had managed to reassure Emma about just needing some time alone. She agreed but at the condition that if anything wasn’t right he would let her know. He simply nod before walking a bit in their spacious garden. But 5 minutes later he felt like he needed something else but he couldn’t tell what. In the end he decided to do something , go take a walk at the dock, talk with someone and so on until it was time to go to bed again.

Never he had felt that bored in a day and now that he could just rest and sleep, his mind seems to pick that moment to send him back to the revelation of the morning, about the 2 missing years he couldn’t remember, that bloody room, the neverending ticking of the clock and it was just too much for him. He extract himself from the bed ensuring not to wake Emma before he head downstair and prepared himself a cup of tea as he took a book from the shelf. Apparently there were no way he would find sleep anytime soon.

H-24

He found that he had probably fall asleep on the table as the first ray of light went through the curtains of the kitchen and he could feel the mark that the book had left on his skin. It was too early to wake up for him. With a groan he moved to the closest surface where he could lies down once more and finish his night. But as soon as he was on the couch his eyes snapped open and there was no way he could find sleep again. With a curse he shifted on his back, staring at the ceiling listening to the still quiet house...His bloodshot eyes were almost closing themselves but right at this moment he felt that need back, that same craving for...for something he bloody didn’t knew what! A wave of anger rose in him as a flash of blonde hair appeared on the corner of his eyes and the love of his life took his in her arms.

It had took her perhaps half an hour to get him back on tracks before she kiss his eyes and starts to stroke his hair to help him go back to sleep. Finally, he was breathing softly. A watery smile appeared on her face before she goes to the kitchen to prepare them some cozy breakfast for when he’ll wake up. While he had opened his eyes too soon for her taste, he looked a bit better than when she found him on the couch earlier this morning. She took his face in her hands looking at him and kissed him softly on his lips. He was a survivor. He will heal. He will survive to this...together.

She had asked him how long he had been awake last night but Killian has found he was unable to give her a precise answer. Whatever he tried to recall seemed to had become vague since he was back. When she asked him if he wanted to take a walk the same place as yesterday he almost had been surprised, did they went there? He wasn’t sure of anything. And it was bloody irritating. How could he forgot such banal things in a small amount of time? He agreed but he couldn’t stop thinking about that vangsness he seems to have this morning.

He woke up with a start, looking at where he was a bit disoriented by the unexpected nap he had took as soons as they were back at home. He lifted himself a bit and listened carefully to the sounds around him and he concluded he was alone. Emma had left a note on the table saying she would be right back. He groaned and made his way to the bathroom upstair to take a shower, hoping to clear his mind at the same time. But once under the hot water, tingling took possession of his hand and soon after of his feet. He clenched his hand and flexed his toes several time before the sensation started to fade from his extremities, his attention entirely focused on the task... But barely two minutes later, the combination of the hot temperature, the humidity of the air and that tingling had sent him into a new panic attack... And this time he was alone in their house…

After what seemed to be a whole day, Killian had finally managed to go out of the wetness of the room and dragged himself to their room. Once pressed against the mattress of their bed, he was panting and slightly shaking as he tried desperately to regain control on his breathe in order to calm the rate of his heart. But his mind was running at miles and was too focused on the panic that was winning inside of him. He quickly started to feel light headed, sweat was starting to form on his forehead and at the back of his neck, his ragged breaths not stopping. Dark spots were dancing on his vision as his muffled ears let pass the sound the front door being unlock. By the time Emma find him, he had passed out.

He once again woke up disoriented, with a terrible headache. He realized Emma was at his side, gently holding his hand while absentmindedly massaging his knuckles, her eyes closed. A strong shiver pass through him as he whined. Emma opened her eyes, her attention right back at him, stroking his face as he slowly sit himself from the floor where he apparently had landed after his last panic attack. She gave him an aspirin as she asked him if he was alright and he just stared at her. How could he be alright? Sensing his reaction she briskly corrected herself, opting for a “feeling a bit better?” to which he nodded before closing his eyes letting the exhaustion win again. Right now, all he wanted was to end that awful day.

This time he woke up feeling better, thought his headache was still present but nothing an aspirin couldn't fix. Emma was reading a book on the bed next to him. So he slowly snuggle against her, kissing her head before she turned to face him and offered him a smile. He returned the gesture as his belly made itself notice. He chuckled at her face before they decide to go buy, hand in hand a takeout at Granny’s . They had ran into a lot of people on their way, all asking him about his well being. At first he had been polite and answered them that he would be alright sooner than later but the more they asked, the more he become irritated and he had to force a smile to make them believe he was fine. But inevitably, he had exploded after Emm asked him the same question once more. The look on her face broke his heart and he shook his head before taking her in his arms, mumbling apologize on her hair. Asking himself one last question. What was wrong with him?

H-48

To be honest, Killian didn’t knew what he would prefer. Waking up after having insomnia most of the night or waking up with stomach cramps? And hell they are exhausting. They were short but intense and he barely had time to recover before he was hit again… and it was like that all the morning until the medication that Emma gave him, helped stop the cramps. Nausea keeping him company until finally he seemed to be able to eat something. But it was only a mere illusion to think that eating something would be a good idea. He had barely put something in his mouth that his belly grumble and he thought it was better if he doesn’t test his gut anytime soon. So he walked to the couch, turned on the TV before he start to play with his rings like when something was bothering him enough to start spoiling his thought until he take care of it...

He was in need of something. And it was affecting his temper as he tried to figure it out. The riddle of what he wanted, being quite the task. As Emma wasn’t in the house he concluded he was probably just missing her a lot. After all, he had been separated from her for two years so his body was probably trying to make him understand the fact. Killian slipped on his leather jacket before he searched for her. Lucky, she was just outside hanging out the clothes. With a smirk on his face, he took her by behind and start to kiss her neck as she paused what she was doing to savor his ministrations. But soon duty brought them back to what had to be done and Killian find himself helping his Swan in her task. But just like an infant, he became bored by the task and he step back deciding to simply enjoy the view.

It was soon noon when they both sit down at the table on the terrace. It was a beautiful day and Killian was being wheedling as ever. Not to displeased Emma. But she seemed to feel that there was something behind this act. Asking him if he was good paying attention not to hurt his feeling like yesterday, he finally confessed that he was still a bit anxious and since he opened his eyes, the threat of the panic attack wasn’t far behind. Concerned about him but also happy he had opened to her, Emma decided that she would take care of him for the rest of the day so he could be relax and have a chance of a peaceful night later. However, she noticed that the more she was trying to be here for him, he was still needing something else and two hours later she was starting to be angry at his behavior. “Stop behaving yourself like a child Jones! “ She had slam the door behind her as Killian found himself alone with his mess that he would have to repair if he wanted to be forgiven by Emma...

He was a dick. He truly was. How could have he behave like that whereas Emma was doing her best so he could feel better? He let out a frustrated sigh before knocking at the door. He waited a moment but no answer came. His hand hower the handle of the door but he stops in his track. She was Emma Swan after all. They might have change for the better both of them but he knew better than to force her wall when she was pissed off at him. So he simply rest his forehead on the frame of the door, closing his eyes as he apologize for his stupid behavior toward her, that she deserves so much better than the eejit he was. As his throat start to squeezes as he was slowly drowning on self-loathing about being the most unworthy pirate, she shuffles to the door, opening it slowly. He stares at their feet before she reach for his chins so he face her. His eyes were glassy as she simply shake her head and pulls him inside with her and hug him.

They slowly made peace and soon his lips touch hers and it was as he was finally finding what was missing. Her presence. Her touch. Their kiss slowly deepened as his hand reach the back of her head, tingling his fingers in her soft hair, his left arms on her back, pushing her against him. And it was like finally satisfying an addiction. He devours her with his mouth as they both grows because of what the other was doing to them. The memory of their fight from the afternoon already buried deep down their head. Only the desire controlling. And for once Killian felt right, his body and mind relaxed as he held closed to his body and kiss passionately his Swan. Whatever he was needing before was completely gone from his thoughts...at least for now.

They went for a late evening walk in the city and so did a lot of people tonight. After a moment Killian realized he never paid that much attention to the number of people smoking. And damn they were quite a number! But the more time passed, the more he find it difficult not to stare at them. Inevitably, they walk in front of an old man with his pipe, blowing his smoke at their face. He apologize quickly even if Emma gave him a smile, ensuring him that it was nothing. But Killian was soon taken in a coughing as flashes of memories assault him, memories of being in the room. But this time there was something else. Smoke. It was surrounding him . It was a bloody amount of smoke and he couldn’t breath for a moment even if he wasn’t really in the smoky room. Then he heard her voice. His mind getting clearer after her voice break through. “Killian? You’re alright? Killian what’s wrong?” but all he could for the moment was staggering on the spot before he shook violently his head, wanting to come back to the reality faster. The hell was that? he muttered under his breath as Emma was gripping his forearms.

He was sure of a few thing. Whatever happened in that room had come back to him after he has inhaled the smoke of the old man. His head was still spinning a bit and his strength had been sucked up by the flash of memorie. The need was like coming back and god his arm was hurting. Blinking faster he realized it hurt because of Emma’s pressure on it as she was kneeling next to him. Did he fell? He couldn’t remember anything else than what he saw. Emma didn’t wait another minute as she pouf them back home on their bed. She stroke Killian head, waiting for him to get his bearing back together. Killian closed his eyes before looking at her, smiling, letting her know he was okay before he let sleep took over.

#whump #killian jones #i wanna know!#whump fairy shadowsan #Whump Fairy

12 notes · View notes

blahblahblippyblah · 7 years

Text

Solangelo: Kiss on the Big House Roof

Nico woke up in a panic as usual. His dreams were always haunted with the depths of Tartarus, and also ended in him drowning in popcorn. Drowning in popcorn may seem silly and maybe even fun for most people, but not to a demigod who once spent time as a stalk of corn. He check he alarm clock beside he bed. Was 3 in the afternoon? He sat up and sighed.

Being the only camper in cabin 13 had its benefits. It meant that he was head counsellor which meant he got to choose what his cabin did all day. It also meant it was easy for him to get out of training. Of course he couldn’t push his luck of Chiron would be at his door every morning to make sure Nico didn’t sleep his summer away. The Hades cabin was very dark, therefore it was very easy to accidently sleep in since there was no natural way of knowing the sun had risen. It was also always cold in the Hades cabin. Probably because it was made of solid obsidian. This was a benefit in the summer when it was scorching outside, but Nico didn’t know how this was going to work out come winter. Nico laid back down in his blankets. For a minute he contemplated going back to bed so he could stay up later tonight. He might even go for a midnight stroll through the forest. That sounded nice to him. He enjoyed walking in the dark. The forest at Camp Half-blood was the most entertaining place to walk in the middle of the night since he scared the bejebus out of the dryads and satyrs.

Just as he closed his eye he heard a rap at the door. He opened one eye and looked at the door weighing his chance of pretending he wasn’t here. Then he heard a voice behind the door.

“Nico I know you’re in there. Get out here and come hang out or I’ll come in there and drag you out.”

It was the voice of Jason Grace. Nico sighed thankfully. For a minute he thought he jinxed himself and it was Chiron.

“Give me a sec, I got to clean up and get dressed” he shouted back.

“Fine we will be at the beach”. Nico heard Jason walk off the Hades cabin porch.

Nico got up and went to the bathroom to clean up. He then went and picked out some appropriate clothes. It was warm at the beach so he grabbed some long black shorts, and his all too creative black t-shirt with dancing skeletons. There were a few holes in it from past quests, but Nico didn’t care. It was his favourite shirt.

He grabbed his stygian iron sword and strapped it to his belt. You know your typical beach wear. He walked out of the cabin and walked through the bustle of Camp. Camp was full of activity because this was the last days the summer campers would be here. Soon everyone would be headed back to their homes, and only a few year rounder’s would be staying. Tonight there was going to be a big camp fire, with fireworks curtesy of the Hephaestus cabin. As he passed the Hephaestus cabin he saw tons of burly looking kids scrambling with tons of explosives and various dangerous thing preparing the show. He heard Harley excitedly telling to his siblings about how he had packed the firework he was holding to turn in a giant dragon of sparklers that would attack another dragon he was going to make in another colour.

Nico really hoped that the firework dragons did what they were supposed to so he wouldn’t have to fight fireworks tonight.

As he approached the beach he noticed 3 people sprawled out on the sand. Two other people were in the water. Jason, Annabeth and Will were on beach towels all talking to each other and watching as piper rode some waves on her surfboard. Percy sat on his surfboard probably making the waves, as Nico was pretty sure he had never seen waves this big in Long Island before.

We he approached Jason noticed him and waved. Annabeth and Jason were both sporting Camp Half-blood t-shirts, except Jason was wearing blue board shorts while Annabeth had bathing suit bottoms on. Will was leaning back on the sand half on his towel wearing plain orange shorts and a bright white t-shirt. Nico was glad to see him out of his tye dye shirts. He looked much better in white. Nico then swore at himself in his head for thinking that way.

What a dork Nico thought.

Then he smiled, Jason was great. Probably he only person he trusted. His list was short so you knew it was a very covenant list. He only 2 other people that had made it were Reyna and Coach Hedge. Although as Nico go closer to Will he realised that Will was slowly making his list.

When he reached them he could hear Annabeth going on about artificial sweetener. Nico didn’t know how they got on that subject, but decided to let her continue her rant. He went to go sit in the sand beside Jason but Will caught his attention and waved for him to come sit on his towel with him. Nico was grateful because the sand was burning hot. He didn’t know how Will had the tolerance to lay his legs in the sand.

Nico looked out at the ocean. He watched as Piper paddled out to a wave with Percy. As they got close she stood up and rode the wave towards the beach. Percy on the other hand managed to get on top of his board shakily. He rode it for about 5 seconds before the board went flying from under him and he face planted in the waves. Nico snorted out loud, and quickly covered his mouth to stop the embarrassing sound.

He remembered when he first met Percy he asked him whether he was a good surfer since his dad was Poseidon. Apparently Poseidon wasn’t the god of surfers.

Jason stared laughing too. Annabeth stopped talking and looked up at what they were laughing at. Percy’s head could be seen bobbing out of the water. Piper had reached the shore and was walking towards them. Percy summoned a water current and aqua manned himself to the shore as well. His lost board washed up behind him.

Hey both came over and sat down. Will reached behind him and passed hem some sunscreen.

“Reapply or you’re going to regret it” he warned. “I can feel you guys are staring to burn”

They did as they were told. Will threw me a bottle too.

“You as well pale death boy”

He glared at him but did as I was told.

Percy laid back on the sand.

“I didn’t think it would be so hard” He protested.

Piper grinned “Just takes some practice”

Percy frowned. Then he sat up and grabbed Annabeth’s hand. The whole back of him was covered in sand.

“Come try it with me” he said.

Annabeth didn’t argue. She got up and walked hand in hand with him to the water.

“So Nico how are you doing?” Jason asked.

Nico thought it a strange question but Jason must have been trying to start a conversation with him. So he went with it.

“Um fine I guess. Jus tired a lot lately. You know nightmares. But I also think it might have to do with the fact the Hades cabin is super creepy. I don’t know who decorated it but I am not a vampire.”

Everyone frowned at the nightmare comment but didn’t saying anything. Demigods knew all about nightmares.

“Maybe Will can help you redecorate over the fall.” Piper suggested. “I’m sure he’d be able to brighten the place up” she joked.

“Ha ha, very funny sun god joke. But I don’t have my dad’s blinding personality or gifts so the most I could do is help repaint” Will replied.

Piper just smiled. She caught Nico’s eyes and he was prey sure she was up to something. It was the look Percy got when he was going to do something Annabeth told him not to do.

Nico averted his gaze. Piper’s mom was the god of love. He really hoped she could sense the sight tension Nico had right now being so close to Will. He tried his best to keep a acceptable distance from Will so as to not raise questions, but also far enough so that Wills feeling didn’t get hurt. He guessed they were friends now so it might be rude. Well friends might not be exactly what they were. But Nico didn’t have a name for someone he was friends who he really liked, and had kissed only 1 ½ times. Also no one knew about those last 2 parts.

He finished putting on sunscreen. He had accidently forgot to run in a large patch on his nose. But no one said anything. They sat on the beach talking about yearly plans. Jason was going to travel between the camps between going to school with Piper in LA to build temples for he minor gods. Piper didn’t really have anything planned except spending time with her dad who agreed to take the year off from filming and touring. Coach Hedge, Nellie, and baby chuck were going with them too. Just one big happy family. Nico was kind jealous. It sounded as if they had a lot to look forward to this winter. Plus baby Chuck was the most adorable little kid Nico had ever seen. It was also the first baby to not cry when he held it. Not than Nico had held a lot of babies. But most would start crying even if he passed their strollers. Chuck just grumpily shaked his fist and demanded more milk and mushed up recycled cardboard. Baby goats were weird that way.

Wil talked about how he wanted to start his first aid course, as well as work on his healing skills. A summer of training and improvement. How very typical demigod of him. Nico thought about what he wanted to do. He couldn’t think of anything. Then he thought about Will’s plans, and honestly they stated to sound very nice. He definetly could improve his skills. Other often told him that he was the most powerful demigod they met, yet Nico didn’t feel that way. He wanted to be a great hero, not some half hero hat passed out from using his powers to much.

He must have looked upset because Piper interjected his thinking .

“What’s wrong Nico?” she asked.

“Nothing I was just thinking about the same thing Will was saying. I think I want to stay at camp and work on my powers some more. It would be nice to be able to shadow travel without fading into the darkness.” Nico replied

“ Well this is the place to work on it Nico” Jason chimed in. “I mean what better place than home”

Nico smiled.

“Ya I guess this is home now, but if it’s going to be home then I need to get rid of the coffin like decor in my cabin” Nico joked.

Everyone smiled.

That night the campfire burned several stories tall. The singing from every camper and the excited atmosphere made it grow larger than Nico had ever seen it before.

Nico sat by the edge of the circle legs crossed with his hands in the grass behind him. Will came up beside him and sat down. He had put his first aid instructor sweater on. Red surprisingly went with his tan skin and blonde hair. It kind of made him resemble the flames hat were coming out of the camp fire.

Will didn’t say anything for a while. He just stared at the campers who had all begun a chorus of

‘When I’m gone. When I’m gone. You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone’

He felt something brush against his left hand. He jerked it away out of habit. Stupid battle reflexes. He noticed it was just Will’s hand. Will gave an apologetic smile. Nico returned it and put his hand back down where it was. Will moved his hand over Nico’s. It was subtle but Nico checkd around to make sure no one was looking.

Will looked at Nico.

“Is this ok?” he asked “ I mean if not I can go I don’t want to feel…” he trailed off

“it’s ok. I promise. Just umm idk if I want everyone to know yet?” Nico said very quietly.

Will gave him a sympathetic smile. Nico felt bad about what he just said. Not because it wasn’t how he felt, but because he didn’t want Will to feel like Nico was shunning him because he was scared.

“It’s not you Will. I promise. It’s just… well. I don’t know how everyone would react. I’m not very liked as it is. And ….” He trailed off and stayed silent for a long time.

Will just kindly smiled at him.

“Hey it’s ok Nico. I just want to let you know I really like you” he whispered for Nico’s sake.

Nico sat uncomfortably. He didn’t saying anything for a while. Then he realised Will’s smile was fading. Nico had a feeling he might have hurt Will’s feelings. Will just told him he like him, and Nico had said nothing.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere cool?” he asked Will.

“Of course”

Will went to get up but Nico ushered him back down. He looked over his shoulders to make sure no one was still looking. He caught Jason’s face in the crowd smiling at him from beside Piper. He had a sly smirk on his face eyeing him and Will sitting beside each other. He raised an eyebrow at Nico from across the campfire. Nico suck his tongue out at Jason and then the and will faded into the shadows holding tight to Wills hand.

They reappeared sitting on top of the big house roof. From there they had a great view of the campfire and the whole camp from the strawberry fields to Canoe Lake.

Even though he was still sitting Nico swayed. The travel knocked his brain fuzzy, he was seeing double and his eyelids grew heavy. His ears rang and everything stared to flash white. The oh to familiar feeling of passing out. He gripped the roof shingles for support. Wil, looked no better. This was Wills first time shadow traveling. Which was pretty disorienting. Yet he shook his head and composed himself.

“Whoa there death boy” Will said and steadied Nico against himself.

Nico didn’t pull back he let himself fall into Wills shoulder. Nico groaned.

“Here drink this” Will said as he passed Nico a water bottle from his sweater. “Its’s unicorn horn and Tiber river water. I got some from Reyna before she left. As I heard it’s the only thing that works for you.”

Nico thought it was wired that Will had taken it upon himself to carry the unicorn water with himself just in case Nico needed it, but he didn’t protest and drank half he bottle. He felt much better after a few minutes. Although he was now still pretty tired, as though he ran 5 k and then eneded up on the roof.

“So why are we up here?” Will asked. “Not that I’m complaining I mean it’s very beautiful up here I’ve never seen camp from this angle”

Nico sat up from Wills support. He gently laid his hand on Wills which was holding ono the roof.

“I wanted to say I like you too” Nico said.

Will smiled wide.

“Although I’m not sure why you like me. I mean I’m all dark and scary to everyone else. Most people don’t really like the whole death thing very much”

Will let out a small laugh.

“Really because as I see it for a guy who wear nothing but black and commutes to the underworld you’re a big softy. Also for a big softie you’re also the most powerful demigod I have ever met. It’s super attractive. I mean watching you fight during the battle, Wow. I’ve never seen someone so... just wow. And you’re kind of cute I guess” Will replied.

Now that Nico admitted to liking Will he noticed Will was getting some of his son of Apollo ego back.

Nico smiled. He felt a little more courageous around Will “Kind of unfair don’t you think? You get kind of cute and I get smoking hot.”

Wills smiled couldn’t get any bigger. His tan skin glowed in the dark, his hair stuck out like a dirty blond flag, and his teeth shone white against the black sky.

From where Will was sitting all he could see of Nico was his pale face like a moon. His dark hair and clothes blended into the night seamlessly. Will could make out where his eye where though. They twinkled in the moonlight mimicking the stars behind Nico. Will had heard about opposites attracting. And this was definitely the case. His dad the god of the sun and warmth, and Nico son of the god who represented everything about the cold dark. They would perfectly balance each other.

They sat in silence listening to the campers sing camp songs. Nico still held Wills hand. It was warm and Nico used it reheat his cold fingers. The fireworks stared over the lake. And Nico had to give it to the Hephaestus kids they were the best fireworks he had ever seen. The fireworks formed bright colorful constellations of ancient gods and heroes who re-enacted their tales in the sky. From below they could just make out the voices Will’s cabin mates reciting out their stories in song as the fireworks danced across the sky. Hercules wrestle with a hydra in the sky in dazzling blue and purple.

Nico was listening intently and gazing up at the sky. He laughed when they started to tell the tales of the adventures the crew of the Argo 2 had gone on. They got to the part of the story where Heracles got buried with coconuts by the great hero Piper. Nico could make out Jason and Piper standing on a picnic table. Jason held up Piper’s arms and ushered for her to make a bow. Nico laughed and then turned his head to watch Will. Will was laughing as well, listening to the story for the first time. Then next thing Nico knew he was pressing his lips up against Wills. He wrapped his arms around Wills neck and pulled him closer. Will was shocked for a second and then leaned into the kiss more enthusiastically than Nico. He curled one hand into Nico’s hair behind his head and the other went down to his lower back. Nico moved his lips to match the pace if Wills. He had never kissed anyone before so he was slowly following Wills lead hoping he was doing it right. His head swan with heat. He completely forgot where they were. He could smell sunshine and citrus coming from Wills hair, his lips tasted like orange juice and freshly picked strawberries. He gasped for breath, he had forgot to breath. Will pulled his face back from Nico’s but they kept their hand there they were.

Nico looked into Wills eyes. They were shinning bright blue as if a small piece of the clear daytime sky was shining through the night.

“You ok?” Will asked. ”You’re swaying. Are you going to pass out? Do you need anything?” Will asked.

“I’m fine, just new to this” Nico admitted.

Will smiled “Ok, can I kiss you again then?”

Will didn’t need an answer because Nico flew himself back toward Wills lips. Nico could feel Will smiling as he kissed him. Will rubbed his fingers into Nico’s hair massaging his head slightly and to hold it steady as his increased he intensity of his kiss. Nico tighten his grasp around Wills neck.

When the last of the fireworks died out and campers could be seen walking back to their cabin will looked down at Nico. Nico was curled up under Wills arms leaning against his shoulder. His arms were wrapped around Wills waist. Will smiled. He felt like he was on top of the world, not just the Big House roof.

He shook Nico awake gently. Nico’s eyes fluttered open and he grumbled.

“You missed the best part of the fireworks. They talked about your heroic escape and fights and journey. They went to make you stand up to bow no one could find you “ Will laughed.

Nico made a sarcastic face.

“Jason saw me disappear with you. Hell cover me” Nico said.

Will looked at him quizzically. Nico had been very adamant about keep them a secret for now, yet Jason knew. Nico must had read his thought because he started to explain about how Jason was the first to know about Nico’s secrets. And how Jason had helped him through his fight with cupid .Will listened quietly. He didn’t know about any of this but he felt grateful Nico was sharing it with him. It helped him understand Nico’s reclusive behaviour towards him and Camp Half-blood.

“The only other 2 people to know are Coach Hedge and Reyna. They saw my feelings of fear and hate when I unleashed in on our trip with the Parthenos.”

Will nodded. His leaned in and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“Come one death boy. Let’s climb down before the harpies come and eat us for a late night snack.”

Nico punched him arm but returned the kiss on the cheek to Will.

When Will got back to his cabin his siblings demanded to know where he disappeared to but Will shook them off by slipping into the bathroom. Although he was pretty sure he could hear them hypothesizing where he had been. Seeing as only 1 other camper went missing that night.

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #percy jackson #blood of olympus #trials of apollo #fluff #fluf

77 notes · View notes

ravenvsfox · 7 years

Note

Hola! Love your Jerejean prompt-fic. I can't find the list of prompts from which to choose so I'm throwing out random numbers (33 or 61) and asking for Jerejean fic? Please and thank you! Ps. I live for your andreil fic

(thank you so much!! here’s both, just for you)

33: “Don’t worry about me.” AND 61: “Why didn’t he come and talk to me himself?”

When Jeremy gets home from grocery shopping, it’s to Laila and Sara having a pseudo-picnic outside the door to his dorm room. They’re cross-legged in pyjamas, talking with their heads close, expressions screwed on too tight for the way they’re eating strawberries from a washed out butter tub. Sara’s got little ice-cream cones on her shorts.

“Oh, finally,” Laila says, pushing gently back from her girlfriend with a hand on her shoulder. “We thought you were buying out the joint.”

Jeremy sets his bags down heavily at his feet, feeling bottles clink and packages scrunch. “Any particular reason you’re waiting up? In the hall?” They exchange a knowing glance and Jeremy makes a tsk-ing sound, folding himself down so they’re sitting in a lopsided triangle. “I don’t like these serious faces.”

“Me neither,” Sara says grimly. “Drastic times call for drastic faces.”

Jeremy roots around in his closest shopping bag, pulling out a bag of craisins and ripping it open. Laila gives him a disappointed look when he offers her the first handful.

“You’re not allowed to get captain-y on me when I tell you what’s up, okay?” Sara says, picking a tentative few cranberries from the bag. Jeremy chews thoughtfully, swallows, and nods.

“So Jean sliced himself open when we were chopping strawberries, because I guess chopping things that weren’t opponents wasn’t considered a necessary skill at Edgar shitting Allan, and the blood sort of— I guess it brought on a panic attack? It was weird because he was sort of catatonic, I don’t know Jeremy, you had to have seen his face—“

Laila holds him down by both shoulders when he makes to get up.

“Did you just leave him in there?” Jeremy demands. “Guys you know he— you know leaving him alone is a bad idea, no matter how much he says he’s fine, he’s not, he’s not fine yet, his therapist says—“

“Okay I know she said no captain talk but that might be better than hysteria,” Laila cuts in, eyebrow tucked together like they get when she doesn’t know what play to do next.

“We’re keeping an eye on him. Or ear, I guess. We knock every 5 minutes. He just… he wanted to be alone, Jeremy, and we’re not like you, it freaks him out if we crowd him.”

He feels his muscles hurt with how much they’ve tensed. He’s still being loosely held down, and he knows logically that bursting in and crowding Jean will get smudgy fingerprints all over whatever progress he’s been making on his own. The thought of him looking at his own blood and wandering back into his memories is enough to make Jeremy’s eyes prick and burn.

“He’s been getting better,” he says quietly. Sara and Laila exchange another glance and Jeremy reaches out to cuff Laila on the arm. “I saw that. Answers, please, now.”

She hums, looking consideringly at the ceiling. “He’s been coming to our place some nights. We’ve got the balcony in our suite and I think it— it’s good for him to see the sky. He knows I’m an insomniac too. Sitting stoically outside is our main bonding activity,” Laila says a little ruefully. Sara reaches out to slide her hand over hers.

Jeremy swallows around his surprise, eyes fixed on the closed door, trying to stop the stain of hurt from setting. “You guys talk?”

“Yeah they gossip like schoolgirls at two fucking am,” Sara says, and Laila pinches her hand.

“I’m making our teammate feel at home, don’t be a bitch.”

“Is he okay?” Jeremy asks quietly. The girls both look helpless for a second, and then Sara slips over to him and tugs him to her so their cheeks are pressed together.

“C’mere you rascal,” she says fondly, scrunching a hand through his hair. “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s scared that he’s using up too much of your time,” Laila says bluntly. “He thinks he’s a ‘charity project that you’re putting too many resources into’.”

“Why didn’t he come talk to me himself?” Jeremy asks, something like cold trickling water itching at his neck. “I would’ve told him it’s nothing like that. Of course it’s nothing like that.” He’s frowning so hard it’s aching in his forehead.

Laila’s eyes flicker over his face, and the feeling is so much like being patted down for secrets at the airport that he looks at his lap, throat full of shame he doesn’t understand.

“What is he if he’s not your charity project?”

Sara makes a sour face but Laila waves her off.

“He’s—“ Jeremy blinks. “He’s a trojan. Part of the team.”

They look at each other, and this time Jeremy can recognize their disappointment.

“Okay buddy,” Sara says, standing up with her hand braced on his shoulder. He feels like he’s sinking into the ground with her weight pinning him. Like he’s slipping straight through to the ground where things are simple and packed together and buried. “Maybe you should have a chat with your roommate. Your trojan. Your not-charity case.”

“He’s not— mine,” Jeremy says, and something rolls over in his chest, uncomfortable.

“Again I say— okay buddy,” Sara says. “You’re exhausting. I can’t believe how obtuse you are. Jean was raised in a hunger games style pain dome and he’s more in touch with his feelings than you.”

“We’re going to bed,” Laila announces, swinging her and Sara’s hands between them violently. “Go kiss his wounds and read him some Pablo Neruda or whatever shit you think you’ve been doing platonically.”

They disappear down the hall, and Jeremy watches them round the corner, gathering his groceries into his lap nervously. He stares at the door for a long time. The grain of the familiar wood looks different from so low down, almost unrecognizable.

His hand goes numb under the chilly wet packaging of a frozen pizza, and he struggles to his feet with his hands and head full. He’s suddenly desperate to be on the other side of the door.

“Jean,” He calls into the darkness. The only light is a little reading lamp over by the window, and Jeremy can just make out jean’s ghostly face on the outskirts of its light. “How you doing? Alvarez told me what happened.”

Jean’s face slips out of the light, and Jeremy squints into the darkness with the bags biting into his palms until he feels Jean brush by him on his way to the kitchen. He snaps the lights on and regards Jeremy, eyes stormy, mouth toppled over. His emotions are closer to the surface every day, near enough that Jeremy doesn’t have to do any real dissecting anymore.

“I heard,” he says flatly. Jeremy avoids his eyes, busying himself with hoisting the bags onto the countertop. He feels like he’s burning and Jean isn’t, and he doesn’t want to alarm him by trying to light his wick.

“Let me see where you’re hurt?”

Jean is closer when he turns around, but his arms are crossed and his jaw is stiff. He looks brave and scared, pointed in the opposite direction from whatever tries to get close.

“Jean,” Jeremy says again, as softly as he can without whispering. The sight of him after the conversation Jeremy just had is making him feel like he’s completely forgotten how to ride a bike, like he doesn’t actually know anything at all.

“Stop saying my name like I’m a child hiding under the stairs,” Jean snaps.

“Sorry,” Jeremy says. Then, “I’m scared.”

Jean looks at him distrustfully. It’s just like when they first met, only Jean’s gained healthy weight, and his clothes fit him right, and his hair has grown back, and he’s glowing, really, more every day. “For me?”

“A little,” Jeremy admits.

Jean looks away, justified in his bitterness, tight and distanced. “Don’t worry about me. It’s exhausting for both of us.”

“Scared for me too. For the way I feel.” Jeremy closes his eyes and tries to picture his team without Jean but he can’t do it.

He opens his eyes to see Jean drop his arms, looking vulnerable in the same way the pink skin around a wound is vulnerable. Jeremy tracks the movement of his wrapped hand and frowns. “Show me?”

Jean does nothing for a moment, but then he extends his left hand for Jeremy to take. He holds it tenderly, feeling his breathing climb up from his diaphragm to his lungs to his mouth. It’s all shallow and lightheaded when he sinks into Jean’s personal space and un-tapes his bandaging.

“Not so bad,” he says, quietly relieved. He turns Jean’s hand in the light from the exposing overhead fixture, watching blood wink from a clean wound. There are delicate scars holding his hands, and Jeremy thinks that he could do a better, deeper job of leaving a mark on him. When he looks up, Jean is staring back at him, jaw shaking from being clamped shut so tightly.

Jeremy reaches for his face without thinking, and Jean looks away so Jeremy’s fingers just graze the slope of his chin.

“It’s okay,” he says. Jean shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he repeats. He’s still holding his hand loosely. He kisses Jean’s face and pulls away when he flinches.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I heard what they said to you. You believe them when they tell you what you feel.”

Jeremy shakes his head. “I sometimes forget how well they know me. Almost as well as you do. They remind me how I feel when I’m being an idiot.”

“Must be frequent then,” Jean says, and Jeremy smiles. “I don’t tell you everything. It’s— difficult.” He looks at the floor, upset. His hair is corkscrewing at the side from sleeping on it after he showered. “You are very beautiful when you’re trying to comfort me.”

Jeremy puts a hand to his own mouth. “Can I please kiss you?”

Jean looks at him from under heavy lids. “Jeremy,” he says weakly. “Only if you want to.”

He kisses him. He pulls his hand to his chest and kisses him, smiling into it until Jean licks his own lips and the flicker catches Jeremy’s. A window blows open in his head, musses his papers and gets dust on everything he’d been trying to organize.

He kisses him more seriously, with his palms sweating and his mouth open. He pulls a hand through Jean’s hair and feels him curl closer. The feel of his crooked fingers on Jeremy’s hip makes him smile again, and he presses his mouth into the corner of Jean’s, almost laughing. He stays there, breathing and holding on, and Jean catches his face in his uninjured hand.

“I want to,” Jeremy tells him breathlessly.

“Is this allowed?” Jean whispers, muted but childlike. Jeremy kisses him on the mouth without really meaning to. The look on Jean’s face is more focused on what’s in front of him than it has been in months. It’s like Jeremy ripped the rearview mirror down and they’re finally driving forward blind.

“USC doesn’t have any rules against dating teammates, if you hadn’t noticed. We can do anything we want, and I want you.”

“Dating,” Jean repeats, frowning. Jeremy kisses him until he feels the uptick of his lips, the accidental happiness creeping through the cracks he’s been filling in for years, gorgeous weeds in a city sidewalk.

“Only if you want to,” Jeremy says against his mouth, and Jean nods, bumping their noses together.

“I want to.”

#in which i very clearly am in love with laila and her first name-less gf who i have embraced as sara #the foxhole court #aftg #jerejean #tfc fanfic #prompt #mine #cuts tw #b slur #Anonymous #ask

333 notes · View notes

bob-giovanni · 7 years

Text

A Casual Affair

Characters: Simon X OFC

Warnings: Cursing, AU/Pre-Apocalypse, Eventual Smut

Summary: Violet has been out of college for a year and desperately needs a job.

Author’s Notes: I got the idea for this story from @simons-thirst-squad Simon Smut Week but it would’ve been too long to post as a one shot. This is kinda AU I guess as it takes place present day with no zombie apocalypse. Hope ya’ll enjoy!! P.S. - there is some French in here. I got it from Google. If you actually speak French and it’s wrong (which I’m sure it is) please feel free to let me know so I can make changes!!

Background Music: “Casual Affair” by Panic! at the Disco

Violet’s alarm starting blaring at 5AM and she instantly hated everything. She groaned as she sat up, swinging her legs around to hang off the edge of the bed as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. After yawning and stretching her arms over her head, Violet went down the hallway to her small kitchen and immediately brewed herself a cup of coffee. While she was waiting for her coffee, Violet grabbed the nearly empty container of soy milk out of the fridge. She placed it on the counter next to the coffee maker before reaching into the cabinet above to grab sugar. Once the coffee was finished brewing Violet wasted no time in pouring in the milk and sugar, giving the hot liquid a quick stir before drinking half the cup in one sip. It was scalding hot but Violet was so exhausted and she needed to wake up fast.

She finished her cup of coffee and sat her mug down on the counter. She planned on making another cup for breakfast. She went down the hall back towards her bedroom and ducked into the bathroom to turn the shower on. Violet went back to her bedroom stripped out of her PJs, placing the clothing in her laundry basket. She grabbed her phone and put her hair up in a messy bun and headed back to the bathroom. She opened the music app on her phone and clicked ‘Shuffle All’ before stepping under the lukewarm stream of water.

As she started to lather herself up with body wash, she started signing along with the current song playing. “Take any moment, any time. A lover on the left, a sinner on the right.” She curled her lips into a smile as the water washed the soap off her body and started to loosen up her muscles. “Lay in the atmosphere, a casual affair.” Violet grabbed her hairbrush and held it up to her mouth like a microphone. “Lay! In the atmosphere! A casual affair, whoa!” Violet laughed at herself as she started to wash her hair. Once she felt clean, Violet stepped out of the shower and wrapped her long, faded red hair in a towel. She walked to her bedroom and grabbed another towel, drying the rest of her body quickly.

Once she was dry and moisturized, Violet grabbed a white silk bra and matching panties from her underwear drawer and put them on before unwrapping the towel around her head. Her hair fell to just above her elbows. Violet looked at her brown roots in the mirror, making a mental note that she needed to get her hair done. She looked at alarm clock on her bedside table. 6AM. She still had time before she had to leave. Violet decided to blow dry her hair and do a quick waterfall braid on the left side. Once the braid was complete she took a large round brush and used it with her hair dryer to add big, soft, bouncy curls at the bottom of her hair.

Once she was satisfied with her hair, Violet walked to her closet and pulled out a few different options and started trying things on. She felt that dress pants and a button down shirt was too boring but all the dresses she had, she felt, were not entirely work appropriate. Violet walked back over to the closet and dug around before she found what she was looking for. A simple black pencil skirt. She had a white blouse with black polka dots that would look amazing with the skirt. She put the outfit on and looked in the mirror and smiled. She was more than happy with the way she looked. Violet decided to eat breakfast before finishing up her look. She went to the kitchen and made herself some toast and poured herself a bowl of cereal, putting sliced bananas and strawberries in the bowl as well.

Once she finished eating Violet looked at the clock. It was nearing 7AM. She had to hurry if she didn’t want to be late on her first day. She hurried to the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth. She then went to her bedroom and grabbed a pair of black pumps from her closet. She sat at her vanity and slipped the shoes on before grabbing her makeup bag. She didn’t want to go too heavy on the makeup today so she did a simple eye look, no falsies, no highlighter, a little blush, and her favorite red lipstick, Urban Decay’s Gash. Violet took a deep breath and grabbed her purse, dropping the lipstick inside and heading to her coat closet. The sky was a little gray so Violet grabbed her green raincoat and headed out of her apartment and down a flight of stairs to the entrance of her building.

Once outside Violet realized it was slightly chillier than she had been expecting. She slipped her coat on as she walked towards to the train station. It was just 2 blocks from her apartment. She descended the stairs and swiped her metro card as she walked through the turnstiles an onto the platform. The train pulled into the station a less than a minute later. Luckily there were a few open seats. Violet sat down and pulled her earbuds from her purse. She plugged them into her phone and put on some relaxing music to try and calm her nerves.

Today was Violet’s first day at her new job. She had graduated from college a year ago with a Bachelor’s in Drama and Dance. Violet’s parent’s were both lawyers. All of her grandparents were lawyers. Her 2 brothers were lawyers. And so on. But Violet never wanted to be a lawyer. Her parents wanted her to follow in their footsteps and become a defense attorney for white collar criminals. She detested what her parents did. They nearly had heart attacks when she said that changed her major to drama. But she didn’t care. She refused to live her life doing something that she hated. Her parents were miserable and she didn’t want that to be her. Her dream was to be a teacher at a prestigious art school and moved to New York after graduating to fulfill that dream. Unfortunately she soon discovered that NYC was an cold, unforgiving bitch. But she didn’t love it any less.

Being out of work for nearly a year was hard. She blew through most of her savings paying rent and buying groceries. But that all changes today. Violet started humming quietly along to the song currently playing on her phone. 20 minutes later the train pulled into the Christopher Street/Sheridan Square stop. Violet stood and exited the train, hurrying up the steps to the street and heading east. Christopher Street was one of her favorite areas in the city. It was full of life and culture. She would spend hours here on the weekends when she just needed to get out of her apartment. Violet arrived in front of her new office building. It was a 5 story white building with black doors and awnings. It didn’t really stick out much but that didn’t matter. She walked up the faux marble steps and opened one of the black doors, stepping inside and walking up to a large black desk. There was a young woman sitting behind it who greeted her.

“Hello there. Can I help you?” Violet smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m here to see Julia Freeman?” The young woman picked up the phone and dialed an extension. “And who should I tell her is here?” “Violet Durand.” The young woman spoke wield into the receiver for a moment before hanging up. “You can have seat right over there, Ms. Durand. Julia will be out to get you momentarily.” Violet nodded. “Thank you.” She sat on a white leather couch and looked around the lobby. It was very monochromatic. But Violet didn’t mind. It was kinda nice actually. She looked behind the large desk at the entrance. ‘Yellow House Inc.’ it said in gold letters. All Violet knew about the company was that the CEO was an art dealer and that she was going to be his assistant. Being the assistant to a pretentious art dealer prick sounded like hell but Violet was desperate.

A few moments later Violet heard the familiar clinking of heels on tile. She looked up and saw a tall, statuesque woman with short black hair. “Hi, you must be Violet. I’m Julia Freeman, head of Human Resources.” She spoke with a British accent that can only be described as snooty. She extended her hand to Violet. Violet quickly stood and shook the woman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Julia smiled and lead Violet through large white double doors. Julia led Violet to a small conference where there was a stack of paper on a small circular table. Julia took a seat and Violet sat across from her. “Here is some paperwork that we need you to sign. Mostly standard stuff, however there is an NDA in there.” Violet furrowed her eyebrows. “May I ask why I have to sign a non-disclosure agreement?” “The CEO is married to Charlotte Scott.” Violet’s eyes widened a bit. “The actress?” She asked softly. Julia bit back a laugh and nodded. “Yes, the actress. As the assistant to the CEO you will sometimes have to go to their home and you are forbidden from discussing anything you see in there or risk losing your job and a $100,000 fine.”

Violet made sure to read the NDA thoroughly before signing. Once all of her paperwork was complete, Julia put it in a neat stack to her left. “So, Violet, do you know what we do here at Yellow House?” Violet chewed her bottom lip a bit. “You buy and sell art from other art dealers or collectors.” Julia nodded. “That’s part of it.” She began explaining more about the company and what they did. It all sounded dreadful but Violet continued to actively listen, making sure to ask a question or two along the way. “Do you know what Yellow House is? What it is a reference to?” Julia asked. “Well, Yellow House is a painting by Van Gogh, so I assume that.” Julia smiled. “Very good. The CEO despises Van Gogh but rich people love him so we are appropriately named after one of his paintings. And do you know who our CEO is?” “His name is Simon, I believe.” Julia chuckled a bit. “Yes, very good. Since you are his assistant it would serve you well to know his name.”

Julia excused herself from the room, taking the stack of papers with her. A few minutes later she peeked her head around the doorframe. “Come. I’m going to take you to meet Simon now.” Violet stood, smoothing out the front of her skirt. She grabbed her purse and coat from the chair and followed Julia to an elevator. They entered and Julia pressed the button for the 5th floor. “A few quick tips. Simon is…a little eccentric so just try to play along if you’re not. Also, he hates it when people call him sir or mister so just call him Simon. And don’t be offended if it takes him a while to learn your name. For the first 2 months that I worked here he called me Natalie.” Violet smiled nervously. “Oh ok.” Julia continued. “And don’t bother correcting him. It will only extend the amount of time he calls you the wrong name.”

The elevator dinged when they reached the 5th floor. Julia led Violet out of the elevator. Straight ahead was a large black desk that was partially surrounded to form half a square. “This will be your desk. You can set your things down here. I’ll make sure that Simon isn’t on a call.” Violet set her things down as Julia approached a large black door, knocking twice. “Yeah, come in.” Violet heard a gruff sounding voice from the other side say. Julia pushed the door open and stepped inside. She couldn’t make out what was being said, all she heard was muffled voices. A moment later Julia stepped partially outside the door. “You can come in, Violet.”

Violet took a deep breath and walked over, stopping outside the door for a moment before finally stepping inside. She was surprised to when she finally laid eyes on Simon. She expected him to be some prick in his late 20s to early 30s with a suit that costs more than a year’s rent and slicked back hair. Instead she saw a tall man in his 40s with graying, slightly crazy hair, a mustache that would give 70s porn stars a run for their money, black jeans, black boots, and a black Sex Pistols t-shirt.

“Simon, this is your new assistant, Violet Durand. She graduated from Tisch last year.” Simon looked up for the first time, giving Violet a once over before speaking. “A Tisch girl, huh? Let me guess…drama? No, dance?” Violet smiled shyly. “Drama and dance.” Simon grinned. “Close enough.” He stood from his chair and walked around his desk, holding his hand out to Violet. “Nice to meet you.” Violet shook his hand, caught off guard briefly by his strong grip. “Likewise.” Simon went back to his desk and pulled out his phone. “Ya know, we’ve never had a Tisch grad before. Maybe this one will actually know what she’s doing.” Violet’s eyebrows raised a bit at Simon’s crassness. Julia smiled a bit. “Well, honestly, Violet does seem very bright.”

Violet jumped as Simon’s hand slammed down on his desk. “Goddammit! Why is this motherfucker always send me shit in French. He knows I don’t speak fucking French! Julia, did you tell this motherfucker I don’t speak French?” Julia walked to his desk, holding her hand out for his phone. “That depends. Which motherfucker are you referring to this time?” Julia was looking at the phone. Her and Simon went back and forth for a few moments before Violet spoke up. “Umm…I might be able to help. If that’s ok?” Simon nodded and Julia handed the phone to Violet. She looked over the words, reading them aloud.

“‘Merci pour votre aide. Votre charmante épouse et vous-même êtes les bienvenus chez nous à tout moment.’" It means ‘thank you for all of your help. You and your lovely wife are welcome at our home anytime.’” Simon raised an eyebrow. “You take French in college?” Violet shook her head as she handed the phone back to Julia. “No sir…I mean Simon. I was taught by my mother. I was only allowed to speak French in my grandmother’s home. She hated the English language…and most Americans, honestly.” Simon huffed. “Smart lady.” Simon continued to look through e-mails on his phone for a few moments. “Listen uh….” Julia leaned in and whispered. “Violet.” “I know.” Simon said incredulously. “Listen, Violet. Why don’t you finished getting settled. Julia here will take you on a grand tour and finish going over things with you and then after that you can take off. I don’t have much use for ya today. But I expect you here and ready to work at 8am tomorrow. Understood?” Violet nodded. “Yes, si…Simon. Thank you.”

Julia led Violet around the building, introducing her to all of her new co-workers. Violet’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much by the time the tour was over. Julia took her back up to the 5th floor so she could grab her things. As Violet grabbed her purse and coat she could hear Simon yelling in his office, obviously speaking to someone on the phone. Julia took Violet back down to the 1st floor to show her out. As Violet sat on the train on the way back to her apartment, she had a feeling that this job was going to be a strange and twisted journey. And that made her nervous and excited at the same time. She knew one thing for sure. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

Tags: @simons-thirst-squad @jdmfanfiction

Thank you to @66psychotic99 for the proper French translation above!!

#Simon TWD #Simon the Savior #TWD Fanfiction #Simon X OFC #Steven Ogg

52 notes · View notes