Work Text:
“I fucked up.”
Dorothy paused for a single beat, the page of her magazine - Iron Maiden moodily peering out from the cover - momentarily frozen in its pathway before jolting back to life.
“How badly?” Dorothy questioned, not looking up.
“How badly?” Fatin repeated, nostrils flaring as she tapped her foot aggressively in front of her best friend.
“Yeah, like everyday fuck up: I forgot to buy more Takis and we’re running low,” Dorothy explained with a shrug, feet propped up on the bed, leaned back in her desk chair as if it was any other day rather than potentially the second worst day of Fatin’s life in the making, “or my latest dick ride wasn’t wrapped up?”
“Ew…” Fatin grimaced, shuddering at the suggestion, “how could you even suggest that last one? All dicks must be formally attired or find somewhere else.”
“Do you put out a sign or something: no condom, no service?” Dorothy asked drolly.
Fatin opened her mouth to call the suggestion crass and misleading before considering it more carefully, “That’s actually not a bad merch idea.” She pulled out her phone and quickly opened her Notes app, “I’m writing that down for later.”
“I want a share of the profits.” Dorothy commented, gaze still resolutely on her magazine.
“Fine…” Fatin sighed, “I’ll send you the designs, maybe Mateo could get it as a tattoo?”
“Hot,” Dorothy remarked, tossing her magazine onto the table as she got to her feet and declared, “I’m going to watch Survivor.”
“What?!” Fatin squawked in outrage, grabbing Dorothy’s arm and pulling her back, “No, wait, you haven't fixed my mistake yet.”
Dorothy’s eyebrow raised, “That statement gives me great concern for our friendship.”
“Dorothy!” Fatin yelled, foot stamping petulantly to the ground - the intended effect undercut by the thick carpet that Dorothy had insisted on.
“Fatin!” Dorothy mimicked back, the offensively high-pitched squeaky voice making Fatin scoff.
Fatin ducked her head, shoulders hunching up, knowing what she needed to say but hating the invocation and everything it represented. She took a deep breath and murmured, “Dark forest.”
Dorothy blinked, then moved swiftly into action, shutting her bedroom door, and gently guiding Fatin to the corner of her bed.
“Okay, sit down.” Dorothy ordered, lightly pushing Fatin to do so before stepping back and crossing her arms, narrowed eyes examining her head-to-toe. “What happened?”
Fatin swallowed thickly, “I did something and…”
“Are you hurt? In trouble? In danger?” Dorothy asked.
Fatin shook her head.
Dorothy sighed, “Is it about Leah? Should I call Shelby in here too?”
Fatin bit her lip, considered for a moment before nodding once.
Dorothy left and returned less than a minute later with Shelby in tow.
“What’s going on?” Shelby questioned, eyebrows shooting up upon seeing Fatin fidgeting, “Sweet Jesus, Fatin, you look rougher than a new roll of sandpaper.”
“Dark forest.” Dorothy murmured to her.
“Oh… is this Leah related?” Shelby guessed, knowing for her to be called in it wouldn’t be for anything else - Fatin went to Dorothy and Leah with the majority of her problems, but Leah problems by their nature required other sources of comfort and Shelby had been the first confidant on this matter. Shelby sat next to her, arm sweeping round her shoulders, “Why don’t you take it from the start? Build up to it?”
Fatin winced.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nowhere near as bad as you think.”
“Oh… that’s what you think…” Fatin chuckled darkly, challenging her credulity.
XXX
Zara Rashid was an LA detective with a storied past.
She was drop-dead gorgeous and never tried to hide or diminish her sexuality regardless of the reputation it garnered her from her colleagues. She worked hard and played hard, earning herself a case closure rate second to none. People assumed she only did well due to her looks, or her father’s shady criminal dealings, but the truth was she cared .
She treated victims, witnesses and even suspects with empathy, offering them a genuine ear and sharp humour to brighten the darkness. She found leads because she put in the time and effort when everyone else threw in the towel. She was smarter than people gave her credit for and had a heart of gold that was often overlooked.
She was complex, competent and inspiring.
She was Fatin’s second favourite character across all fictional media, and she was the main character in Leah’s bestselling crime series.
Leah had started writing ‘Forbearance’ in her first year of college at UCLA. Fatin and Nora were the only two of the girls that Leah trusted to read draft excerpts of that first book. Nora because she was the biggest reader in the house after Leah, and could advise on the actual crime and investigation elements, while Leah wanted Fatin’s input on characters. Fatin was beyond honoured, especially since Leah was so protective of Zara’s character, selecting each descriptor with the utmost care and thought.
Leah got the first book published near the end of college, the second one already drafted and subsequently released the year after, the third book the year after that. Fatin inputted less and less for each one as Leah got more confident in writing and as Fatin happily took up being a cheerleader and number one fan.
Now, Fatin loved all three books. Loved seeing Zara prove everyone in her precinct wrong at the end of book one, gaining her colleagues’ respect. Loved seeing Zara opening up to the group of friends she had steadily gathered in book two. Loved seeing Zara finally take her corrupt mob boss father down in book three.
And she was desperate for book four; Leah hadn’t even shared a single sentence of it so far and Fatin was going insane (and doing her best to hide it).
The fourth book had the potential to be Fatin’s favourite of all time because… because… there was a chance that this would be the book that Zara finally admitted her feelings for Jenny Blake.
Okay, so… maybe… Fatin had fallen down the fandom rabbit hole. Or maybe she’d jumped down the rabbit hole headfirst, hit the bottom and had started digging deeper.
Because… whilst Fatin loved Zara Rashid… she adored Jenny Blake.
Jenny was the hacker aficionado, conspiracy theorist with a dark humour and a self-sacrificing nature that Zara had met in book one during a case. They had initially hated each other, until Jenny saw through Zara’s facade by how she looked after the victim’s family. Jenny helped find clues that Zara’s more practical nature would miss, finding the truth in the absurd. Jenny was Zara’s person , the one that she told about her father, the one she’d hugged first whenever she had faced a brush with death.
They were perfect for each other, but they were in the stupid will-they-won’t-they phase.
It was obvious that they loved each other, but Zara kept throwing herself at other people, running away from Jenny whenever they shared an intimate moment. When Jenny had unknowingly dated the serial killer in book two, Zara had been an emotional wreck even before she was able to prove that he was guilty.
Fatin was in deep .
She had created a fucking tumblr account to discuss spoilers and potential twists, read various character analysis, the what if’s, the fanfics, had a saved folder of fanart that made her heart do a weird little twist in her chest, had written her own theories and even requested a couple of AUs from her favourite writer (high-school variants and stranded on an island, just to make it more relatable to herself).
She was in deep but she had it under control.
None of the girls knew how consumed she was; they knew she loved the books, admired the characters and would compliment Leah endlessly on her writing. But they, and more specifically Leah, didn’t know just how deep it went, nor would they ever until… until last night.
XXX
Fatin would readily admit that her impulse control was variable. It was steel reinforced to prevent actions that could hurt her heart or damage the family she had crafted out of seven other girls, but it was weak-willed for quick pleasures. Toni’s takis on the counter were quickly swiped and consumed, a Gucci purse on sale even when her bank account was crying was immediately snapped up and Leah’s proffered hand whenever they were in each other’s orbit was grabbed without hesitation.
Last night brought the two extreme variants of her control to wage war.
It started innocently enough: Leah had bought them all pizza, and a bottle of the fancy wine that Fatin adored, to celebrate finishing the draft of her fourth book. She only had minor editing left to do before submitting to her editors.
The girls had pressed for spoilers and Leah had hinted at the plot finally going after the conspiracy theory that Jenny had been investigating since book one.
(Fatin had inhaled sharply at that, hiding it under an excitable demand for more pizza. All major theories, suggestions, and fanfics pointed to this plot line being the catalyst for a relationship shift for the series’ two most frequently discussed characters. It would activate Zara’s protective nature - force her to confront the feelings she ignored and that Jenny was too oblivious to see with her singular focus on being proven right. Leah would inevitably write a heartfelt scene and Zara would reveal her feelings and Jenny would gasp, realisation dawning and then they would-)
“Hey, you want me to pour you a glass?”
Fatin jolted in place, Leah leaning towards holding out a glass and the specially bought wine. The smile that lit up Fatin’s features in response to Leah’s shy gaze was genuine.
“Oh, yes please.” Fatin drawled, accepting the glass to hold as Leah poured.
“So…” Fatin started, drawing out the word to appear nonchalant, “Is Zara going to keep her string of lovers going or is there something… different brewing in this book?”
Leah frowned, one shoulder shrugging as she placed the bottle on the coffee table and then efficiently snagged a pizza slice from the box Rachel was passing to Nora, “Uh… something different, it’s what fans have been asking for…”
“Oh, really?” Fatin hummed, trying to hide a far too pleased smile behind her glass of red wine. “Can’t wait to read that.”
“I didn’t know you were that invested in the relationship side of the story…” Leah remarked pensively.
“Pfft… what? Invested?” Fatin waved a dismissive hand, “I’m just, you know…”
Leah raised an eyebrow at her, blue eyes genuinely curious, which softened Fatin and made her forget that the other girls were there too.
“Proud of you.” Fatin said honestly, reaching out and taking Leah’s hand resting on the sofa cushions between them. “And yeah… I’m a big fan of all aspects of your work.”
Leah blushed, “Oh… well, I… I… think this one might be your favourite then.”
“I’m sure it will be too.” Fatin hummed. “Any chance of a sneak peak?”
“Once it's finished being edited, I will personally deliver you an advanced copy.” Leah promised, squeezing her hand.
And that should have been sufficient. Leah had made sure Fatin received an advanced copy of all her books, but that was still potentially a few months away and…
Fatin simply couldn’t wait that fucking long.
She had her own room, however she shared with Leah most nights (all nights barring when Leah was in a short relationship or when Fatin went out clubbing) and that night was no exception.
She could barely sleep despite being curled up next to Leah’s side, Leah’s arm around her waist, her breath a reassuring warmth against her forehead. Fatin’s entire body was buzzing with hope and potential and she needed to know.
Leah’s laptop was sat on the desk opposite the bed, the dark screen staring her down in challenge.
Fatin knew what she did next was wrong, undeniably wrong, but her willpower exited stage left when confronted with the temptation of reading Zara and Jenny kiss and get their well-deserved happy ending.
It was right there , practically screaming out to her.
She slipped out of Leah’s hold, pressing an apologetic kiss to her forehead before grabbing her laptop and heading downstairs.
XXX
“So let me get this straight…” Dorothy said slowly, eyes skyward and hands on her hips as Fatin squirmed in her spot on the bed.
“There is nothing straight about this…” Shelby whispered to herself, earning a reproachful glare from Fatin.
“You broke into Leah’s room-” Dorothy began.
“I was already there.” Fatin defended.
“You hadn’t told me that you two share a bed every night.” Shelby murmured.
“It’s not every night…” Fatin huffed, her voice an octave higher, “It’s just… most nights.”
Shelby’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to press the issue when Dorothy raised a hand to rein her in.
“You hacked Leah’s computer?” Dorothy continued, arms crossing over chest - laying claim on the bad cop to Shelby’s confused good cop.
“I knew the password.” Fatin muttered, rolling her eyes.
“If it was your name, I will slap you.” Dorothy threatened.
“Why would it be my name?” Fatin scoffed. “Leah doesn’t like me like that, we’ve talked about this.”
“What is the password?” Dorothy pressed, gaze narrowing.
“I’m not telling you that.” Fatin said after a very telling silence.
“Knowing Leah… it’s either some obscure literary reference or…” Dorothy said thoughtfully before pausing, “Or… her favourite music piece.” Fatin’s eyebrow twitched. “I’m guessing a concerto.”
Fatin opened her mouth and then closed it again.
“Jesus Christ.” Shelby whispered, face-palming.
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain, Shelby.” Fatin tsked.
“I’m confident He will forgive me in this instance.” Shelby snarked in return.
“Back on track.” Dorothy said, snapping her fingers. “You read the draft of her fourth book?”
“Yeah.” Fatin confirmed.
“And…” Dorothy said, assessing Fatin closely as she guessed, “you… hated it?”
“Hate is a strong word.” Fatin replied, tucking her hair behind her ears in a practiced, familiar gesture. “I just think… it should be totally thrown out and started from scratch.”
Dorothy and Shelby’s jaws dropped; Fatin was Leah’s single biggest fan, advocate and champion. For her to criticise Leah’s work in any way was akin to heresy.
“Whoa…” Dorothy whistled, “why do you hate it so much?”
“She killed off Jenny!” Fatin snapped, eyes blazing.
“Oh, fuck….” Dorothy and Shelby breathed, utterly horrified, which Fatin found reassuring yet also surprising.
“And Zara didn’t even care!” Fatin ranted, getting to her feet and starting to pace. “Like what is that about?! That’s just wrong! Zara would never fucking recover! Jenny died uncovering the conspiracy of political corruption that she had been talking about since the first book. She finds proof and dies passing it onto Zara, and Zara just… moves on?!! She dates fucking Calvin? That dickweed detective that only ever compliments her on her body? That fucking asshole? And Jenny just… there’s no funeral… there’s no nothing. They don’t… Zara acts like Jenny was nothing and… she was… she…”
And okay, she knew it was a book. It was fiction, but reading it was akin to a punch to the gut. She had felt winded, and she couldn’t stop crying and she had to fucking sneak back into Leah’s room after having her heart ground to dust and curl back up against Leah’s form. And normally, being close to Leah was the ultimate sanctuary but she was angry and hurt and scared and…
Dark forest .
She hadn’t felt like this since then. Since finding Leah slumped, near lifeless, against a tree - her pale complexion practically glowing in the obsidian background of the night and trees.
She hadn’t slept and when Leah had roused, she had rushed out the door, keeping herself busy until she could corner Dorothy for help. Though, how was Dorothy going to make this fucking awful feeling go away? This feeling that was destroying her from the inside out and-
“Fatin, it’s okay, just breathe…” Dorothy soothed, suddenly there and pulling her into a tight, futile hug.
“She died all alone,” Fatin hiccuped, “and Zara didn’t even…”
“It’s okay, it’s not real, I promise.” Dorothy murmured gently.
“Then why does it feel like it is?”
XXX
“Remember, just breathe.” Shelby reminded Fatin, as the three of them walked into the open-plan living room/kitchen.
“Hey babe, thanks for the pasta!” Toni yelled from the other side of the kitchen island as she helped herself to a large helping of spaghetti bolognese that Shelby had made for her earlier for when she got back from basketball practice.
“I’ve got to keep my girl well fed.” Shelby beamed, skipping over to Toni and accepting a kiss before they grabbed the small two-seater together.
“Why? It’s not like she’ll grow any taller.” Rachel snarked from an armchair, earning her a high-five from Martha and the middle finger from Toni. Meanwhile, Dorothy gently nudged Fatin towards the kitchen with a promise to dish them up some food as well.
“Rachel, did you steal my laptop charger again?” Leah’s voice called out from the stairs that she was bounding down. “My laptop’s nearly dead and I want to finish off some more edits.”
“Come eat first, Leah.” Martha encouraged.
“But-”
“No buts, you’re looking pale.” Martha interrupted firmly.
“Doesn’t she always? She makes vampires look tanned.” Toni commented between forkfuls of food.
Fatin dutifully walked over and flicked Toni behind the ear, causing Toni to swat her and Leah to smile shyly at her which almost eased the bubbling turmoil of emotion in her chest.
“The edits can wait.” Fatin said firmly; Leah nodded immediately and hurried over to the kitchen to comply.
“Keep breathing.” Dorothy murmured so only Fatin could hear, as she handed her a plate.
“Yeah…” Fatin nodded, taking a seat on the sofa, sharing with Rachel and Martha. Nora was on the floor, flicking through a scientific journal; Dorothy grabbed one of the two armchairs, leaving the other for Leah.
“How are the edits going?” Nora inquired once Leah had sat down.
“Good, fine-tuning a couple of scenes but to be honest it’s pretty much there.” Leah hummed.
“Pretty much there…” Fatin repeated darkly, earning her worried looks from Shelby and Dorothy.
“Yeah,” Leah said, brow furrowing as she glanced at Fatin, “after four books it seems I have a pretty good routine.”
“Uh huh…” Fatin nodded, tapping her cutlery against the plate in her lap. She bit her lip, trying valiantly to hold in the words on the tip of her tongue and failing miserably. “Are you sure you shouldn’t step away for a while? Maybe you should put some time between writing and editing? Come at it with fresh eyes. A fresh perspective and all that.”
“Fatin.” Dorothy warned, as Shelby mimed taking deep breaths.
“Um… not particularly…” Leah replied, the creases lining her forehead deepening further.
“But maybe, plot points that seemed a good idea initially, are… you know… not good once you take some time and space to think about them.” Fatin suggested in her best approximation of being casual.
(Dorothy face-palmed in response).
“Fatin…” Leah said, gaze turning sharp and assessing, and Fatin was suddenly very aware of how silent the other girls were being. “Is there… something you want to tell me?”
“What?” Fatin laughed, waving her fork dismissively through the air and nearly taking out Rachel’s eye. “No, no, no… I was just… I…”
Leah pursed her lips and waited her out, plate placed purposefully on the coffee table, food untouched.
“I…” Fatin swallowed thickly, panic building inside of her and pushing all those other emotions up and up and up until, “How could you kill off Jenny?!”
Leah’s jaw dropped, “What did you just say?”
Fatin dropped her plate onto the coffee table with a rattle and got to her feet, nostrils flaring and hands on hips, “You killed off Jenny!”
“You read my draft?” Leah asked, also getting to her feet.
“Yes, I violated your privacy but that’s not the issue here!”
“It isn’t?!” Leah scoffed.
“No!” Fatin declared, stamping her foot and feeling minor satisfaction at the effect on the hardwood floor. “The issue is Jenny died alone and Zara wasn’t fucking there, and then… you had her not give a single shit? What the fuck was that?”
Leah rubbed her forehead, “Zara had bigger fucking things to worry about, like catching the bad guy! Jenny tended to get in the way of all that with her conspiracy theories and-”
“Jenny was the best fucking character in the entire series!” Fatin yelled; she felt itchy and like her chest was caving in on herself at how Leah sneered as she talked about Jenny.
“Jenny was holding Zara back in her career and relationships.” Leah retorted sharply.
“No fucking way, Zara loved Jenny!” Fatin shot back, she could feel herself trembling, could feel the girls watching them like a tennis match.
“Zara loves everyone,” Leah sighed, shaking her head like Fatin was a child failing basic reading comprehension, “that’s what makes her a great protagonist, she cares about everyone.”
“No,” Fatin seethed, “Zara is in love with Jenny. It’s obvious.”
There was a hush then, heavy and weighted and some minor gasps but Fatin didn’t check to see from whom - she was too busy trying to understand the emotions that flickered across Leah’s face lightning fast before settling on something eerily blank and inscrutable for the first time this entire conversation.
“You ship Zara and Jenny?” Leah whispered.
“Yes,” Fatin shrugged jerkily, feeling like she was missing something huge. “It’s not my fault you wrote them like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like they’re in love with each other!” Fatin declared.
The blank mask cracked then as Leah scoffed and rolled her eyes, “They are not.”
“They are.” Fatin insisted belligerent, chin lifting in defiance.
Leah’s jaw clenched, and Fatin was seeing island Leah in the wild darkness brewing in her blue eyes. “Fatin, there is no fucking way Zara is in love with Jenny!”
“Yes, she is!” Fatin argued, digging her feet in and planting her flag on this hill, fully ready to go to war over this and not truly understanding the reason for it. “Why does is it seem so fucking insane to you?!”
“Because,” Leah snapped, whatever restraint she had left finally breaking apart, “there is no fucking universe where you would ever love me like that!”
“…what?” Fatin breathed. There was a ringing in her ears and her heart was beating arrhythmically, unable to steady as the realisation overwhelmed her.
Leah’s expression twisted to something horrified, hands moving to grab her own head, palms covering eyes as she bended forward and let out a grief-stricken, “FUCK!”
“I’m… Zara…” Fatin murmured to herself, blinking back fast-forming tears, “and you’re Jenny…”
“Oh would you look at the time…” Shelby said, getting to her feet, and tugging Toni up with her, “we all really need to get going if we’re going to catch that film we wanted to see.”
“Huh?” Toni frowned, as she sucked up a strand of spaghetti hanging out of her mouth.
“Yes, that film.” Dorothy agreed, quickly reaching out and tapping Rachel, Nora and Martha on the shoulders, tugging on arms to drag them towards the front door. “Super interested in that film, can’t wait to see it.”
“What?” Martha squeaked as Rachel helped Dorothy shuffle her out the front door.
“I’ve got an entire plate of spaghetti!” Toni grumbled.
“Take it with you.” Shelby hissed as she pushed Toni out the front door, who was clutching desperately at her half-finished plate, and then closed the front door behind them with a resounding bang.
Fatin and Leah had remained still in the rush of frantic motion and sound - the eye of a hurricane that the girls had clearly forecasted coming for who knows how long.
“Leah?” Fatin whispered, taking a half-step towards her only for Leah to flinch harshly back, hands falling away from her face to reveal a steady flow of tears.
“I…” Leah began, looking terrified and backed into a corner.
Fatin held up her hands to show she meant no harm but that only made Leah’s face crease with anguish even more.
“Leah, I-”
Leah turned and ran up the stairs before Fatin had a chance to say anything more, leaving Fatin in the wake of a revelation that changed everything she ever knew about the life she was living.
XXX
Fatin knocked lightly at the door before pushing it open and leaning against the doorframe. Leah was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back facing Fatin, elbows pressed firmly into her thighs and head resting in her hands. Fatin waited to see if Leah would acknowledge her or ask her to leave; silence was all she received and Fatin knew Leah well enough to know that was as good as an invitation.
“You killed Jenny off and you thought I wouldn’t care?” Fatin asked, attempting to keep her tone merely curious but the thread of hurt was there under it all.
“It’s not like that.” Leah sighed, lifting her head up but not looking around at her.
Fatin crossed her arms, deciding to leave that thread for now in search of confirmation of the major revelation. “You based Zara on me?”
Leah chuckled as if the question was absurd simply because it needed to be asked, “Of course, I did. No one inspires me like you.”
Fatin pressed her lips together to prevent the smile from forming, a warm glow lighting her up from the inside out. “And Jenny?”
“I…” Leah’s hands moved to either side, grabbing the edge of the bed, shoulders hunching up as if she was stabilising herself against a physical blow. “God, it was my first book, can you really blame me for a self-insert? I just…” Leah shook her head despondently, and Fatin ached with the urge to cross the space between them and comb her fingers through Leah’s hair until the tension leaked away from her, “if there was a you in that universe… I wanted there to be a me.” She confessed, something bitter to the words, “I was going to kill her off at the end of the first book but you… you liked her and… then i just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of her until…”
“Until now.” Fatin breathed, jaw working to swallow back the lump in her throat.
She remembered how Leah had frowned in confusion whenever Fatin complimented Jenny’s character, how she had struggled to see what Fatin had been so taken with all those years ago. Fatin’s compliments had saved Jenny from execution and she hadn’t even known it until now.
“What changed?” Fatin questioned.
“I was writing us romantically,” Leah acknowledged, “and I didn’t… I didn’t even realise… I was just writing-“
“Us. You were just writing us .” Fatin exhaled as understanding dawned.
How Jenny cupped Zara’s face when she had broken down after confronting her father was exactly how Leah calmed Fatin down. How the two of them bantered and joked and shared secrets was exactly how the two of them whispered to each other at night. How Zara pulled Jenny out of mental rabbit holes with a joke and a hug was a textbook Fatin move.
Everything Fatin adored about their relationship was already present in hers and Leah’s relationship.
“You hadn’t noticed that Zara was you.” Leah continued, “And… people were talking online and drawing parallels and then I saw…”
“Saw what?” Fatin prompted as Leah trailed off.
Leah glanced back then, cheeks tinged pink, and blue eyes beseeching, “Don’t judge…”
“I mean I will,” Fatin admitted, stepping into the room and moving to sit next to Leah, taking one of Leah’s hands in her own, “but it won’t ever change how I feel about you.”
Leah squeezed their joined hands even as she cringed, gaze dropping to the floor, “I saw a fanfic for Zara and Jenny… of the two of them… stranded on an island and…”
“Oh…” Fatin breathed, stomach dropping out and through the floor.
“The more it went on,” Leah said, unaware of the sudden guilt and horror that was consuming Fatin, “the more likely you would see and make the connections and…” Leah shrugged, side-eyeing Fatin and looking ashamed, “I know I hold you back.”
That pulled Fatin out of her downward spiral with a spine-breaking yank. “Hold me back from what?”
“You take care of me.” Leah said carefully, pausing until she had locked gazes with Fatin. “I know you tour less because you’re afraid of where my mind goes on my own, I know you barely go out clubbing because you can tell - even if you don’t know why - that it upsets me to see you with other people… I know you have to give up so much for me and I just… I just wanted to give you a world where… that wasn't the case.”
Fatin couldn’t fucking believe it. How could Leah have written four entire fucking books that documented their relationship, see that it was romantic in nature and still be this fucking oblivious?
Fatin took a deep breath, knowing she needed to be sensitive and word what she said next very clearly to avoid any further misunderstanding.
“Leah Rilke, you’re a fucking idiot.” She declared bluntly, letting go of Leah’s hand so as to get to her feet and stand in front of Leah, staring her down with fierce determination. “I don’t tour,” Fatin said slowly, “because I miss you so fucking much . I don’t go out clubbing because I would rather be with you than anyone else in the entire fucking world. And I fucking requested that ‘Island-AU’ fanfic because it was as close as I could get to you and me getting our shit together years ago.”
Leah’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide as she spluttered, “You… you requested-”
“Yes! I’m a fucking superfan.” Fatin confessed, “And I want us together in every fucking universe because I fucking love you , okay?”
“Oh…” Leah swallowed, hands fidgeting in her lap uncertainly, “okay… I love you, too.”
“Good.” Fatin snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, “Now, you’re going to stand up, kiss me and then fuck me in our bed. And in the morning, you’re going to delete that pile of shit and give our fictional selves a happy fucking ending as well.”
Leah nodded eagerly.
“Now, Leah!” Fatin ordered.
“Oh, right!” Leah replied, practically jumping to her feet. She licked her lips and shuffled closer, hands settling tentatively on Fatin’s hips as Fatin trailed her hands from Leah’s biceps up to rest on her shoulders, thumbs on either side of Leah’s neck - stretching to feel her pulse.
Fatin nudged closer, noses brushing and gaze fixed on Leah’s lips.
“Are you sure?” Leah whispered, even as she tugged Fatin closer, hips pressing together and making Fatin’s breathing increase.
“I’m sure.” Fatin promised, the words whispered directly against Leah’s lips as she crossed the final slither of distance between them and kissed Leah exactly how she had imagined doing so for years.
XXX
“You requested fanfic about us.” Leah giggled later, when they were bare and pressed against each other, the shaking of Leah’s ribs reverberating into Fatin’s own chest.
“You got fanfic about us published.” Fatin retorted quickly shutting Leah up and causing her to pout.
Fatin deeply enjoyed kissing the pout away.
“You wrote my favourite story.” Fatin whispered sincerely.
“Yeah?” Leah checked, eyes twinkling.
“Mmhmm.” Fatin hummed, rubbing their noses together, as she grabbed blindly for the laptop on charge nearby. “And now you need to fix the mess you made.”
She dropped the laptop onto the duvet.
“I mean I could start writing or I could give you another orgasm…” Leah offered, eyebrows wriggling suggestively.
“My legs are closed until Jenny is alive again.” Fatin replied smugly.
“Are you sure…” Leah smirked, fingers tracing patterns on the inside of Fatin’s thighs.
Fatin grabbed Leah’s hand, “Oh don’t worry, I have a fanfic with a very descriptive waterfall scene to keep me going…”
Leah deflated, “You wouldn’t…”
“Type quickly and you won’t have to find out.” Fatin winked as Leah snatched up her laptop, and immediately opened it up.