#(my ma is going next week 2 visit friends. Without me :((( )

[intertexts]

i feel like i really did luck out by doing a whole bunch of shit & a ton of traveling while hopelessly offline. i think this was a really good inoculation against interstate loathing & irony poisoning...

[sansaorgana]

📻 PLAYLIST — LEADER OF THE PACK

TRACK 2. — TO KNOW HIM IS TO LOVE HIM BY LESLEY GORE ⏮ ⏸ ⏭

PAIRING — Benny Cross x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You are still friends with Benny and your crush on him gets even worse. In the meantime, he meets new friends and they give you reasons to worry about his future.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Once again – the gif is NOT a faceclaim & the Reader's looks are not described. I am sorry it's taking me slower than I expected to write but I am job hunting at the moment and I am very close to getting one job and last week I was doing things related to that. Please, keep your fingers crossed! 😇 If I get the job, I will still write just slower but if I don't... I'm gonna have more time for writing! 🤪

WARNINGS — era accurate sexism and mindset of characters (I assumed it would be like late 1950s / early 1960s and they are from a small town), Reader and Benny are still minors in this part

WORD COUNT — 4,060

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LEADER OF THE PACK (TRACK 2.)

You were still friends with Benny but he was obviously never invited again to your house and he had enough decency to never ask you why. Your mother hadn’t actually said anything about forbidding you to be friends with him so you didn’t feel like you had to hide that fact, although you were trying not to mention Benny around your family and whenever his name slipped out of your mouth, your mother and Luke were exchanging angry looks. Your father was oblivious to the fact Benny had been in your house once, so he was mostly just ignoring your little mentions of Benny’s name here and there. In fact, you were sure he was not listening to you at all.

The only thing you were worried about was the fact Luke was going to the same school as you. You didn’t want your brother to see how much time you were spending with Benny and that was nearly all of it. Thankfully, Luke was too busy developing his relationship with Patsy Carter and it included going on many dates but also trying to impress her on the baseball field, so he was mostly focused on practising.

That was not the last time you and Benny spent the time together outside of the school, though. A few weeks after the incident with your mother and Luke, Benny told you that you could come over to his place after classes. Your eyes widened at this proposition because you knew that he lived in a dangerous part of town. You didn’t want to phrase it this way, though.

“I don’t know, Benny… You’ve never mentioned inviting me before…” You looked down nervously when you were sitting next to him in the cafeteria.

“I know but I kinda, like, owe you now, don’t I?” He scratched the back of his head.

“It’s fine, Benny, really…” You smiled shyly. “I mean… You don’t have a mom to make us dinner, it’s fine, I understand…” You tried to assure him. 

“I’ll think of somethin’,” Benny mumbled and stood up, putting his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “Well, fine, let’s not. Sorry for bein’ pushy,” he shrugged his arms and you looked up at the sound of his tone. He was angry.

You suspected why – he was ashamed of his place and now you had to confirm that he indeed had reasons to be. You didn’t even want to go there.

“Benny, it’s not what you think… I’m scared of your dad,” you bit on your lower lip. That was true, too. After all the stories Benny had shared with you, it would be crazy to not be afraid of that drunkard.

“He’s outta town,” Benny crouched down and his face visibly softened when he found out the reason. “I would never let him hurt you anyway, (Y/N). But he’s outta town and God only knows when he’s gonna be back,” he admitted.

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “Why?”

“He met some girl at the bar a few nights ago. He packed his bags, left me a note that he’s going to visit her. It’s not the first time he’s leaving like that but it’s the first time I’m left alone without my ma,” he admitted and your heart clenched in your chest at his confession. He was talking about it as if it was something completely normal and casual, he even shrugged his arms. But it was not normal or casual and you had to fight the urge to caress his face and hug him – you still hadn’t gained the courage to make him know how you felt about him.

“Well, okay, then, I can come to your place. Tomorrow?” You asked.

“Why not today, doll?” Benny winked at you.

“Because I have to tell my mom that I won’t be back for dinner. I’m gonna lie that I’m visiting Rachel,” you told him and Benny nodded.

“That Rachel girl… She doesn’t like me,” he pointed out and blushed a little.

“But she likes me. We’re best friends,” you assured him.

It was Friday and it was colder on that day than you expected it would be. You only wore a cardigan but Benny put his jacket over you and you felt like the most special girl in the world. You followed him to his side of town and you tried to walk as close as possible. You noticed, though, that he didn’t take the books from you this time. You wondered why. Was it possible that he didn’t want his friends from his street to see him carrying books for a girl?

Not long after, you realised that your assumptions were probably true. He was saying hi to many guys on the street and each was worse than the other. They were older than Benny, looking mean and scary, staring at you like you were a naive piece of meat.

“Is that your girl, Cross?” One of them asked. His jeans were ripped and he was wearing heavy black leather boots.

“Nah, just my friend. She helps me at school,” Benny answered and you knew that it was the truth but you still felt a little hurt by his words.

“You care ‘bout school?” The guy snorted. “Anyway, you gonna come over tomorrow and help me fix the bike, huh? I heard your ol’ man’s outta town again so Cassie can feed you dinner.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna come over,” Benny nodded and then he grabbed you by the hem of your jacket to pull you closer and drag you behind him. Apparently it was not in fashion here to say have a good day at the end of the conversation.

“Who’s Cassie?” You asked Benny, biting on your lower lip. You felt stupid for getting jealous just because some other girl’s name was mentioned but you couldn’t help it.

“That guy’s girl,” Benny shrugged his arms.

“What is his name?”

“Henry, but they call him Hammer ever since I remember,” Benny answered. “He lives with Cassie down the street.”

“So… They’re married?” You furrowed your brows.

“No,” Benny laughed at that and you didn’t like the way he did so – like you were stupid. Then he stopped in front of a house that looked like it had been built in the Great Depression and hadn’t been renovated since. “It’s here,” he pointed at the door with his chin.

“O-oh, nice,” you forced a smile and watched him unlock the door. Then, he held them open for you and you carefully walked inside. The interior looked like the exterior and you were thankful that Benny didn’t take his shoes off because it meant you didn’t have to either and you would rather not walk on this floor with your white socks on.

Beny helped you to get out of his jacket and he hung it on the wall before leading you to the kitchen. There was a small table by the window and you put the books there.

“Wanna drink somethin’?” Benny asked.

“Wouldn’t mind a cup of tea,” you admitted and sat by the table.

“Tea, yeah, sure,” Benny sighed and started to look through the cabinets. After two minutes you were convinced there was no tea in this house but he eventually found a bag and placed it inside a cup after putting the kettle on.

In the meantime, you looked around and you smiled sadly at the picture on the wall. There was a kind-looking but very exhausted woman with sad eyes on it that was holding a little boy on her lap. It had to be Benny with his mom. He caught you staring.

“It’s the only picture of her we have,” he admitted. “She didn’t like being photographed,” he explained.

“And the wedding picture?” You asked and Benny shook his head.

“She burnt it one time when my ol’ man was not coming back home for months. She didn’t expect he’d be back,” he told you.

“It’s a shame,” you didn’t know what else to say.

“He didn’t notice and she didn’t like the picture anyway,” Benny shrugged his arms and that was when the kettle began to whistle, so he stood up to pour the hot water inside your cup. He handed it to you and sat on the chair by the table as well.

“Do you want to start with doing homework?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“I think it’s a waste of time,” Benny confessed and you furrowed your brows at that. “I mean, you’re wasting your time on me. I won’t ever be as smart as you anyway,” he shrugged.

“Well, I’m not trying to make you as smart as me, I’m just helping you to pass your classes,” you teased with a nervous smile.

“I dunno…”

“What about your mom? Wouldn’t she like you to finish the school year?” You tried a different tactic and Benny’s eyes saddened. Short silence occurred between you two and you sipped on your tea while waiting for his answer.

“She wanted me to find a proper job and all that. She wanted me to be nothin’ like my ol’ man,” he sighed.

“You won’t be,” you assured him. You knew it was a risky thing to say but you had a feeling deep down that Benny was not a bad boy at all.

Everyone was saying that he was because no one truly saw him. Your family and Rachel were seeing Benny in a context of his father and the neighbourhood he was living in. They didn’t care enough to look deeper and when they attempted to do so – like your mother those few weeks earlier, they were getting scared and turning their backs on him just because they would approach some difficult trait about him that they were not empathetic enough to forgive. But was it so surprising that a boy who had been growing up like this would have so much anger in him? No, it was not.

Even you were angry about many things – you were angry at your father for being cold and harsh with you and your mother. You were jealous of Rachel’s dad. He was treating Rachel and her sisters like princesses and he was always so warm and kind. He was making you feel safe in a way your father never could. And Rachel’s dad had been in the war as well but he was never using it against his daughters.

You were angry at your mother that she was so obedient. You knew that she was trying her best to be a good wife and mother and you admired her for that but there were limits to everything. Sometimes she should just step in and put her husband back in his place. You knew many women who were like this but not your mother and you were angry that she lacked the courage.

You were angry at Luke for treating you like shit and acting like an asshole while trying his best to be like your father and to impress him. He also was angry at you because, despite everything, he was never as smart as you and he could never go to college, so he couldn’t plan that after high school. You would be the only child who would probably go there and that was this only thing you were better at than him. It was bringing you lots of satisfaction.

But still, you were angry that you hadn’t been born a boy. You wouldn’t have to care about so many rules and you could be more free and more reckless… All of that while having the unconditional love of your father.

Yes, even you were angry about lots of things. So, you couldn’t even imagine how angry Benny had to be. About everything. That was why you weren’t surprised or scared while finding out more and more dark things about him. Because you knew that if you dug deep enough, you would find a diamond.

Or perhaps you wanted to believe that.

“You know, I’m jealous of guys like Hammer,” Benny leaned back in his chair.

“Why would you be?” You asked surprised. You couldn’t understand what was there to be jealous about – you had seen that guy and he was a bum.

“Well, he’s got the bike, he can just hop on it and ride wherever he wants. He’s free,” Benny explained to you.

“And Cassie?”

“Cassie’s just a girl. He can leave her behind anytime and she’s gonna wait for him,” Benny shrugged his arms and you clenched your jaw.

“So… Like your father?” You asked and he blushed.

“Nah… Come on, I was only sayin’... I didn’t mean that…” He started, visibly feeling stupid.

“Let’s start studying,” you decided in the harsh tone of a teacher while opening the first book and Benny nodded quietly.

You were doing homework and additional exercises for about two hours before your stomach began to growl. You were embarrassed about it but Benny quickly caught that and he stood up to put something inside the oven.

“What is it?” You asked, not trusting his cooking skills completely.

“I bought it in the market, it says on the box to put it inside the oven for some time,” Benny explained.

“Oh, okay,” you sighed with relief. It had to be one of those frozen dinners that your father was always saying they meant that the housewife was lazy. But Benny was not a housewife.

However, when the meal was ready and placed on a plate in front of you, you noticed that Benny was making himself a sandwich and the bread he was using did not look very fresh.

“Are you not eating dinner?” You asked him, surprised.

“I didn’t have enough money to buy two,” Benny blushed and you felt extremely bad.

“Well, I can survive without dinner once. Please, have mine,” you pushed the plate away to move it to his side of the table.

“No, I bought it for you,” Benny shook his head.

“I can have a sandwich,” you insisted.

“No,” Benny looked at you sternly. It made you look down and you began to quietly eat the dinner he had made for you. It wasn’t very good – you had to admit that to your father.

While eating, you considered all the ways you could help Benny with. Perhaps your mother would want to give him a second chance if she knew the truth about his current situation? Maybe she would at least give him some leftovers? Maybe you could give him your pocket money? But you knew that Benny was incredibly proud and you had a feeling that he would find it insulting if you even tried any of these things. So, you just had to accept this situation.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” he broke the silence suddenly as if he knew what you were thinking about. “Hammer’s looking after me and so does Cassie.”

“That’s nice of them. Why are they like this?” You asked.

“My mom was babysitting him sometimes, he’s not much older than us. And I remind him of his baby brother who died,” Benny explained and you nodded. “Cassie’s my distant cousin, I think. At least she told me once that our mothers were cousins or somethin’, dunno. But she had it bad in life, her ol’ man was much worse than mine. She has a big heart, she helps everyone,” Benny added.

“I’m glad you have them,” was all you could say.

When you saw Benny again at school on Monday, he was wearing clothes that hadn’t been ironed at all. He never wore properly ironed clothes but this time they looked simply awful. You just had to point it out.

“I usually iron my clothes,” he told you, a little embarrassed. “But I had no time over the weekend. Had to take more jobs than usual, my dad’s still not back,” he explained. “Also, I met new people, you know?” His eyes sparkled with excitement and you sat next to him on the bench in the corridor but you had to admit that it was making you feel uncomfortable how other kids were staring at you two contemptuously. They also saw that Benny’s clothes were even worse than usual.

“Oh, really?” You asked him.

“So, I went to Hammer and Cassie on Saturday to help him fix the bike. He can do it himself but it’s faster when I help him and I like it because I learn a lot then. So yeah, I was there, fixing his bike, and his friends came over. They all have their own bikes, (Y/N). They’re all so cool,” Benny was visibly excited about it and you were nodding your head but you didn’t like his words at all.

You didn’t want to tell him about being careful around those people or that they could be a bad influence on him. You didn’t want to sound like everyone else and Benny liked you because you were different. But you just hated that he seemed to be more invested in those guys and their motorbikes than he was about school, upcoming exams and his future.

“What about Mr. Midler?” You interrupted his story about Hammer’s friends and Benny closed his mouth, confused. “The mechanic who was hiring you sometimes for the weekends? You mentioned he wanted you to work for him in the summer and perhaps he’d give you a job after high school? He has no sons of his own who would inherit,” you reminded him.

“(Y/N), please, Mr. Midler is history to me now,” Benny answered mysteriously.

“You had a fight with him?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Benny blushed.

“I’m sure it can be solved. Let me talk to him,” you proposed and Benny’s baby blue eyes widened at those words.

“No!” Benny shook his head.

“What did you do, Benny?” You asked him as your heart skipped a beat, expecting the worst.

“Nothin’, really, I was just rude to some of his clients,” Benny rolled his eyes and shrugged. “They were assholes to me and Mr. Midler said that I should have worn a fake smile and all that. But that’s not my nature, you know, doll? To just ignore when someone’s treatin’ me like shit.”

“Oh, I know,” you nodded and sighed. “Do you want me to iron your clothes after school today?” You quickly changed the subject and reached out to fix a wrinkle on his shirt.

It was a good excuse that his clothes were not ironed because you could touch him here and there, pretending to fix his appearance. When, in fact, you were just dying to touch him. You wondered what it would be like to be a girlfriend of a boy like Benny. It had to be completely different than to be a girlfriend of an ordinary guy like all the rest at school.

But you knew Benny would never want to date a girl like you. He was treating you like a friend but he would never see you as a woman. Yeah, he had to like real women. And you were still a child. Naive and innocent.

“It’s fine. I’m going to Hammer’s after school and Cassie’s gonna do that,” Benny told you and you took your hand away while nodding sadly.

Benny’s father didn’t come back home and he started suspecting he wouldn’t come back at all. It was better in many ways – his father had been a drunk burden after all. But he was an adult and he could earn more money. Even though he would spend most of it on alcohol, he still could pay the bills somehow with Benny’s help and now Benny was alone with it, which resulted in him coming to school less often.

And when he was actually showing up, he was talking mostly about Hammer and his biker friends. You were pretending to be interested in it but you were just begging Benny to open the books and catch up on the classes he had missed instead. Sometimes he agreed, sometimes he didn’t but you were positive he would finish this year with your help. Barely, but still.

You didn’t mind him having new friends but you had a bad feeling about those guys and the fact he seemed to be so fascinated with them made you feel frustrated because it was ruining your plans. It was silly, of course, to have those plans. But in your head, you would go to college and Benny would start his job as a mechanic after high school. You would marry him after graduating from college and you would start a family together. You would be a teacher and he’d fix cars for money. Maybe one day he would start his own business. 

Those were stupid and unrealistic dreams, of course. And the more he was talking about his new and awful friends, the more you were convinced that those dreams were even more unrealistic than you had been suspecting. Also, you didn’t like the fact that Benny hadn’t mentioned even once that you should meet his new friends.

As if he knew that you were completely out of a different world than them and he didn’t want to mix up those worlds. But would he eventually give up on one to focus more on the other? You knew he would never choose you. You were not interesting enough even though you were trying. You bought a black eyeliner and tried to make your eyes look like women in the magazines had them but you failed and decided to never use it again. You hid it inside your desk’s drawer with anger.

You also stopped wearing so many ribbons and pink sweaters but Benny didn’t seem to even notice anything. He was still treating you the same so maybe it had never been about your appearance. Perhaps it was about your character and that was more difficult to change. You didn’t want to change it either.

You loved Benny for who he was. Why couldn’t he love you just the same?

You were worried about him and you prayed at night to whoever would listen for Benny to finally see how much you cared about him. For him to give you a chance and you would take care of him despite what everyone would think and say about you for choosing a boy like him to give all of your love to. You wished you were both eighteen already so you could live with him and cook for him, iron his clothes, make his bed and all those things your mother was doing every day for your father. Sometimes, you were even sure that if Benny asked, you would not go to college and marry him straight out of high school.

That was how much in love you were. Or perhaps how foolish you were.

But there were also times when you loved him a little less. When you would come back home from school hurt – after Benny had treated you a little coldly or ignored you to talk about his new friends. You would sit on your bed sadly and hate him for the fact how much he was affecting you and how your mood every day depended on him. You wondered then why did you even insist on loving him so much…

So, one day, you tore a page out of your notebook and prepared a list:

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Reasons why I love Benny Cross ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ♡ he can be mean but when he’s nice, then nobody’s better ♡♡ he makes me feel like the most special girl in the world ♡♡♡ he’s strong and doesn’t care much what others think of him ♡♡♡♡ he has the most beautiful eyes and his hair look like gold in sunlight ♡♡♡♡♡ he’s different than all the other boys I know – including my dad and Luke, which is a good thing ♡♡♡♡♡♡ he deserves better and I know I could give him the world if he only gave me a chance ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ his voice!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ he’s taking care of me the way he can (carrying my books, giving me his jacket, making me food) ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ his lips were made for kissing, I just know… ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ when I make him laugh, I feel invincible

MASTERLIST

[skybluewritings]

Tell me when did your winning smile become a smirk? Steve Harrington x fem!reader Part 2/2

Warning: Mentions of alcoholism, Sexist language, references to sex

Note: This is part 2! Thank you so much to everyone who read this!

Six years later…

New York, Early June, 1990

She stared at the notepad in her lap, multiple sentences were angrily scrawled out in lines of thick biro. It was a Sunday and she’d purposefully made no plans so she could for once write but several hours later nothing was happening. Pages and pages of paper lay scrunched up around her living room floor. She’d been trying to plan out the same article for the past six months, it turned out being the personal assistant to the editor of a magazine left very little time in the day. And whilst she was of course grateful for work, any work, she had hoped in her spare time she could put to use all of her experience from the job into actually writing something good. Instead, she was left with a sore wrist and a strong case of imposter syndrome.

In her final year of school, she’d decided to apply to NYU to study Journalism. Although they went practically every summer to the east coast her parents were initially unsure about her studying in another country. However, after a trip to New York and visiting NYU they were all for it. Vivienne had called delighted at the news and had suggested she call Steve to give him a nudge in the direction of applying for college. She knew he’d always struggled in school but found it odd he wasn’t even applying? He’d seemed excited growing up at the prospect of college. She never called him but figured by the time she saw him that summer he would’ve gotten in somewhere. The summer came, except Steve wasn’t there, Clyde would barely even mention him, except for the occasional shake of the head and “that son of mine.” She quickly found out he hadn’t applied to any colleges at all and had been deliberately cut from the trip as punishment. Steve didn’t come the following year or the one after that, whilst her feelings towards him were complicated it wasn’t the same without him. The next few summers were less eventful: she’d get through her college summer reading, hang out with Margo and her friends and even finally learn how to surf.

However, this year due to how consuming her job was she doubted she’d even manage any break. She wearily rubbed at her eyes, wishing the words would come to her. Her phone thankfully began to ring and she picked it up to take the call. “Hello?”

“Hi hunny.”

“Hi Vivienne.” She said pleasantly surprised.

“I wanted to know if you’re coming up to the Vineyard for my 50th birthday? It’s on Saturday July 15th,  Your mom and dad and everyone’s gonna be there.”

She wondered who everyone was.

“I’m sorry I really wish I could but I’m so tied up at work right now.” She sighed.

 “You’re going to work yourself to the bone. Do you not have any time off you can take.”

“I have some…I just don’t know how my boss would feel.”

“Just find out and let me know.” Vivienne told her kindly. “And remember to have fun, you’re only 23 once!”

 “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind!”

“It’s late I’ll let you get to bed star journalist.”

She let out a tired laugh. “Not quite yet.”

“Keep trying sweetie and it’ll pay off, goodnight.”

She really hoped it would too.

“Night.” She replied putting down the phone.

�� 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

She spun her conversation with Vivienne over in her head for the next couple weeks. Vivienne had been like a second mother to her growing up and although she’d never admit it, it’d devastate her if (Name) didn’t come. She explained the situation to her boss who admittedly had more empathy than she’d given him credit for, he gave her a week off, going as far to comment that she was a hard worker and everyone needed a vacation. She supposed her hard work had paid off, well sort of.

There she was on Sunday July 9th climbing out of a taxi suitcase in hand. Knowing who was also possibly staying in the house made her slow the walk down the drive way to the front door. She rung the doorbell and thankfully it was Vivienne that answered. In a state of excitement Vivienne made her abandon the suitcase in the hallway and come straight out to the patio where dinner had just been served.

“Look who’s finally here!” Vivienne exclaimed.

Clyde gave her a polite smile and her parents delighted embraced her. Her stomach dropped when the person she’d dreaded seeing appeared.

Steve stood blinking at her for a few seconds. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She said back stiffly.

He looked a little older and if he had been cute before he was now infuriatingly handsome.

They took their seats and didn’t interact for the rest of the meal.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Monday July 10th

Early the next morning she woke up early to go surfing. After dinner Steve had disappeared leaving her to be fussed over by everyone else. When she’d gone to bed she’d heard his bedroom click shut, then that was it. He didn’t even bother playing any music to wind her up.

She surfed a few good waves before deciding to take a break, as she came out of the water wet suit half off, she noticed another person further out. She cupped her palm over her eyes to watch them in the morning light. The person caught an impressive wave and she had to give it to them that they were pretty good. They submerged from the water and swam back to shore. She stopped watching them and instead looked out to sea, the water lapping around her ankles. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that the person was walking towards her. And on closer inspection that the person was Steve. The universe she decided was just plain mean.

 “Morning.” She faltered.

 “I didn’t realise you surfed.”

“I learnt a while back.” She explained showing him the board.

 “That’s cool.”

It felt like they were acting out a script written by aliens. She’d always known all the things she wanted to say to him if she ever saw him again, but now her mind had gone blank.

He push his wet hair away from his face, like her his suit was also around his waist giving her view of his lean muscular torso. She caught him very briefly glance at her chest, his face flushed. Her heart sped up, it was seriously unfair how much he clearly still affected her.

“I feel I should be upfront with you. I know that a lot has happened between us but I think for the sake of your mum, for the next week I’m here we should try be civil.” She suggested.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He agreed and paused. “I just wanted to say that despite everything, it’s really good to see you, seriously.”

She didn’t quite know how to respond, but she knew in that moment she felt the same.

He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go shower but I’ll see you there.”

Her throat constricted. “Excuse me?”

 “I-I meant I’m gonna shower and then I’ll see you back at the house separately to being in the shower. You won’t obviously be in the shower with me..”

As soon as he said this her mind went to exactly that, she closed her eyes for a moment to block out the indecent image.

“Have a good shower...”

“Yep will do.” He said quickly brushing straight past her.

She wished she’d had at least a few hours away from him to shake off the embarrassment of the morning, but that afternoon she found herself on a hike, the parents at the front and her and Steve stuck at the back. She’d kept as much as distance as possible without drawing attention.

“I don’t have the plague y’know.” Steve joked.

She slowed down a little so she ended up walking next to him. “That’s what someone with the plague would say.”

“Would you rather possibly catch a deadly disease or go up there and be asked what your doing with your life?” Steve asked gesturing to where their parents were walking.

The way he was cracking jokes with her was starting to ware down her defences.

“Please don’t.” She sighed. “I’ve already been questioned several times, on when I’m ‘going to get serious’. As if being the assistant to the editor of a prominent magazine isn’t a real job.”

“I’ll do you one better, my dad still hasn’t processed that I’m majoring in graphic design.” Steve dryly told her. “I think he had hopes I would get some kind of business degree and valiantly take over his company.”

 “I know it’s long overdue but congratulations on getting into college.”

 He smiled a little at her. “Thanks.”

On the horizon was Edgartown, the largest town on Martha’s Vineyard.

“Wanna ditch them?” Steve asked her.

She wasn’t sure being alone with him was the best idea but then again she wasn’t sure how much more she could take of endlessly hiking.

“Sure.” She gingerly replied.

“We’re gonna go hang out in town, we’ll meet you guys back at the house later.” Steve called out to their parents.

They all stopped and looked at both and her Steve in surprise.

“You’re going to spend time together?” Her mum said gesturing to them.

“Yes.” She said.

“You’ll be alone, just the two of you hanging out.”

She stood up straighter. “Yes, yes we are.”

Her mum and dad exchanged a look of confusion. Clyde stared at them blankly.

Vivienne on the other hand was delighted. “Have a lovely time kids! Call the house later if you’re not gonna be back for dinner.”

“Of course they’ll be back for dinner.” Clyde interjected.

 “We might not be.” Steve said.

Clyde frowned. “We have a reservations with the Smiths at the country club, their boy Daniel will be there, he’s just graduated from Princeton.”

“And the relevance of that is?” Steve asked flatly.

“I shouldn’t have to explain it to you Steven.”

“Clyde, I think he can miss one dinner.” Vivienne calmly told her husband.

Clyde threw up his hands before walking on ahead. Vivienne didn’t bother to follow and instead walked with (Name’s) parents.

Steve glared at his dad. “Come on let’s go.” He told her.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

There was a market open when they arrived in Edgartown, their hands accidentally brushed sending a sparking sensation across her skin. He glanced at her, she looked away.

“Anywhere you like the look of?” He asked.

“How about over there.” She replied pointing to a cute jewellery stall.

She poured over the selection, the vendor was busy having a conversation with another customer.

She nudged Steve. “I bet that’d look great on me.” She said lowering her voice.

Steve held a chunky skull rung. “You mean this?”

“Obviously.”

He passed it to her and she tried it on, they both tilted their heads inspecting it.

Steve smirked. “It kind of looks like my dad.”

The tension from earlier was eased.

She laughed lightly.  “Should we get it for him?”

“That depends,” Steve pretended to think, “on how deeply you value your life.”

She nodded. “Quite a bit actually, I’d rather not end up like this ring.”

She took off the ring and placed back on the table. She then noticed a necklace with a gold chain and blue pendant. She delicately lifted it, the gem twinkling in the light.

“This reminds me of those bracelets we used to have as kids.” She said transfixed by the necklace.

Steve came closer to her and picked up the pendant in admiration. “Unlike those bracelets this probably has more value than some plastic.”

“I liked those bracelets.” She said defensively.

He smiled and shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to say I didn’t like them. Considering they cost a dollar each they were pretty cool.”

She wondered if he’d actually kept his bracelet, hers was in her bedside draw back at the house. She’d taken it off after he’d stopped wearing his and it’d been wedged into a dark corner ever since. They were so close she could make out the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Growing flustered she moved back from him adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

The vendor a woman of about their age, gazed adoringly at them. “I’m sorry but I just have to say what a cute couple you guys make.” She gushed.

Both her and Steve glanced each other a little alarmed.

 “No no, we’re not a couple, he’s a uh” She searched for a word. “Friend? Yeah, a friend.”

“My bad.” Said the vendor apologetically, she then gave Steve a coy look. “In that case-“

“He’s not interested.” She blurted out, the Vendor looked disappointed.

 (Name) put the necklace back, Steve raised his brows at her as they both walked away. “How do you know I wasn’t interested?”

“Well, were you?” She asked point blank.

“No, but I might’ve been.”

 “Trust me I saved you back there! Do you really want to go out with someone that flirts so brazenly with customers?”

He grinned at her. “What’s wrong with flirting?”

“There’s nothing wrong with flirting, I’m the last person to judge, but just don’t put customers in a position like that.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Right.”

Before she could navigate the rest of the conversation, a saviour came in the form of Margo. Her friend spotted them and excitedly weaved through the crowds.

(Name) gave her a hug. “I thought it wasn’t meant to be seeing you until tomorrow?”

“I felt like getting out the house.” Margo explained, she then noticed Steve. “It’s been a hot second Harrington, how are you? Still using that Farrah Fawcett hair spray.”

Steve looked to (Name) in silent outrage, Margo laughed quietly into the back of her hand.

“You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone.” He fumed.

“In all fairness to me, I didn’t think she’d tell you to your face.” She sheepishly said.

“Margo do not tell anyone.” Steve said firmly.

Margo threw an arm around (Name’s) shoulder. “If you buy us iced coffee right now, I won’t. Deal?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Deal, but if you break it, I’ll literally kill you both.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

When Steve was in the line buying their coffee Margo pulled her aside.

“What on earth is happening?! The last time you were both here one moment you were fighting then the next nearly kissing then not talking, I’m just in shock how you can be so normal around him?” Margo said.

“He apologised to me and we both on moved, there’s nothing more to it.”

“You’re obviously still angry though?”

“Yeah of course I am!”

“Then talk to him.”

She shook her head. “It would just complicate things, that’s way too messy of a thing to do when I’m only here until the end of the week. Me and him aren’t friends we’re being civil, this trip is about giving his mum a really great birthday, not making it all about old teenage drama.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“Yes.”

Margo narrowed her eyes. “Mhm.”

Steve returned with the ice coffees. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good.” She said voice a little too high pitched to be convincing. “Come on let’s go check out the rest of the stalls.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Tuesday July 11th

“I can’t see anything.” Vivienne tutted, adjusting her binoculars and leaning further over the rail of the boat.

 “Mom be careful, or you’ll fall off the boat and be swallowed by a whale.” He joked.

Vivienne leant away from the edge. “If they make appearance.”

Today’s activity was whale watching, Martha’s Vineyard only offered private whale watching tours meaning it didn’t come cheap. There had been a polite argument between both her father and Clyde over who should pay, Clyde of course won, it was less about generosity and more about yet another display of wealth.

(Name) was sat at the small table and chair set, a bottle of prosecco in the centre, everyone but Vivienne had helped themselves. No one had mentioned it but so far on the trip she hadn’t seen the woman touch a single drop of alcohol.

“Darling when are we going to talk about it?” Her mum suddenly asked.

She took a sip of prosecco. “About what?”

“About what on earth you’re doing with your life!”

She groaned. “Do we have to do this now?”

“When else are we going to talk about it? Every time I bring it up you won’t talk about it.”

She set her glass down. “What is so bad about my life that you can’t leave alone?”

Her mother frowned. “The fact that after a year you’re still an assistant. An assistant! You were meant for such better things than this. You should’ve gone into law like me and dad, you’ve always had the knack for it, it’s not too late.”

She wished a whale would swallow her.

“I don’t want to do law, as I’ve told you so many times. And I’m an assistant to the editor of a respected publication, I could get promoted any day now.”

“I can’t wait to have this same conversation in another year.” Her mum sniffed.

She got up from the table. “You know what mum be disappointed in me see if I care.”

She went to the other end of the boat, her arms resting on the railing as she watched the propellors twirl through the water.

“You okay?” Steve asked coming to join her.

“I just wish my parents could be proud of me.” She admitted, lowering her eyes.

Steve exhaled heavily “Join the club.”

 “Vivienne’s proud of you, there’s no doubt about that.” She looked at him. “Did she send you?”

He shook his head. “No, no one overheard the conversation. I saw you leave looking upset, figured something was up.”

This made her chest tighten. “Oh, well that’s nice of you, thanks.”

 “I actually think your job sounds pretty great by the way, I always knew you’d end up doing something with your writing.”

He leant against the railing their arms brushing, but this time she didn’t move away.

 “My job is great-amazing even, but I haven’t written anything in a year.”

“A year?” He said in surprise.

 “Yeah, not good right? When I’m at work I’m always busy and when I’m not I’m too exhausted to even think about writing.” She sighed. “Enough about me, let’s hear about college.”

 “After I got rejected from basically every school I applied to-“

 “I thought you didn’t apply to any schools?!”

“I lied to my parents, because I was embarrassed that I was too stupid to get in anywhere.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t say that, you’re not stupid you never were.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back at him. “Anytime.”

He glanced down to her hand that was still on his shoulder.

“Sorry.” She said her hand falling away.

His lips parted as he looked at her for a moment.

“You can carry on with your story.” She said shyly.

“Yeah, right.” He laughed nervously, springing back to life. “So, I went to a local community college to get some extra credits, 2 years later I applied to Purdue-the top college in Indianna and I’ve been there ever since.”

Her heart swelled with how proud she was of him.

“And why graphic design as your major and mathematics as a minor?”

 “I really want to get into designing video games, the mathematics part is so I can learn coding.”

She dramatically lowered her sunglasses. “Steven are you a-nerd?”

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed.

“I’m going to spread salacious gossip about you now.” She teased.

He snorted. “Then maybe I’ll have to tell people that you were so scared of the exorcist you slept with a night light until you were 13. I think we’re at a stalemate.”

 “You’ve got me there!” She agreed. “But seriously I’m glad you’ve found something you’re passionate about.”

“I used to love going to the arcade growing up, especially when the games had those like animated segments. I like the idea that you can take someone on a journey, where they have control over whether they win or not. If you’d seen the things I have, you’d want a few more wins in life.” Steve explained, his smile fading she wondered what he was talking about but didn’t press him.

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Well, I think your future job sounds pretty great.” She said repeating his own words.

He bumped her shoulder back. “I promise to remember you when I’m rich and famous.”

She tutted. “And there’s that infamous ego, just when we were having a nice moment.”

“Careful I might feed you to the whales.”

“If we ever see any.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

  Wednesday July 12th

After the boat trip she’d gone to hang out at Margo’s, in typical fashion her friend pried her for information about Steve. (Name) had relayed their conversation on the boat.

“I think he’s still got feelings for you.” Margo said.

She shook her head. “There’s no way.”

Margo raised a brow. “I don’t know he was ready to threw away his entire relationship for you.”

“That was a long time ago, he was 17 in his first real relationship, he was probably just confused.”

“Then why is he acting so friendly with you now? In fact why are you acting so friendly with him? You like him don’t you! And don’t give me the it’s because we’re being civil crap.”

“I think he’s just missed me and is just happy to see me, despite what we’ve gone through. I feel the same, even if it’s still complicated with him.” (Name) confessed.

“I’m going out with some friends Friday night you guys should both come and I can assess the vibe.” Margo said.

“Assess away, but you’re going to come up empty handed.” She warned.

Following the whale watching, Vivienne had taken her, Steve and her mum to a painting class.

She leant over to Steve and whispered. “Do you think we’re going to have to paint a naked person?”

“If we do, I’m leaving.” He whispered back.

Thankfully there was no nudity and it was instead a bowl of fruit. After half an hour of painting her canvas resembled blobs of colour rather than any object.

“There’s a reason I’m a writer and not an artist.” She joked, then peered at Steve’s canvas. “Wow.”

He smirked. “There’s a reason I’m an artist and not a writer.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

They all arrived back at the house in high spirits and at dinner talked animatedly about the painting class.

“Your son’s a natural Clyde, that graphic design major is paying off.” Her mum said.

“Could you draw me?” Her dad asked Steve.

Steve smiled and nodded. “Yeah probably.”

 “I’ve always wanted a hand drawn picture of myself.” Her dad said.

Her mum scoffed. “We can hang it up on the wall like Henry the 8th.”

 “I’ll add a crown in too free of charge.” Steve said cheekily, this made her dad chuckle.

He was the exact kind of guy her parents would love for her to bring home. She stopped eating when she realised what she’d thought.

“Don’t encourage him.” Clyde said.

“What’s that supposed to mean dad?” Steve immediately asked.

“That this whole art obsession, is just a phase. I wouldn’t mind if you switched mathematics to your major.”

Steve carried on eating. “No, I like what I’m doing.”

“I was able to accept that you let basketball and football go by the way side and I made peace with the fact that for two years you didn’t bother to apply for college. Then you did go to college and it wasn’t even an ivy league. But if you’re as good at maths as you claim then get a real qualification in it and come work for me after graduation next year.” Clyde implored.

Steve finally looked at his dad. “Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to live my life exactly like you, that I’m my own person? Business doesn’t interest me, but graphic design does.”

“I’m done trying to guide you, be a disappointment for all I care.” Clyde said bitterly.

“Clyde, I think that’s enough.” Vivienne snapped, everyone went still usually she wasn’t so assertive with him.

“Look at you putting me in my place.” Clyde mocked taking a swig of his wine.

Vivienne glowered at him, she briefly glanced at the bottle of wine but instead drunk her water.

As if by instinct (Name) gently took Steve’s hand under the table. He didn’t look at her but he squeezed her hand back in thanks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Later that evening she knocked on his bedroom door.

“Come to tell me to turn my music down?” He joked, but the sadness in his eyes gave him away.

“No, I just wanted to see if you were okay?” She asked.

He waved a hand. “That was a regular Wednesday for my dad.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to-“

“I’m fine, I promise.” He told her softly, she nodded knowing when to pick her battles.

“Did you want to go out Friday night with me and Margo?” She asked.

He nodded and managed a smile. “Yeah actually, I’d love to.”

The way he was casually leaning against the door frame and smiling so easily at her, made her head swim. This was the exact moment she realised.

 “Nice.” She smiled bashfully. “I’ll let you get back to whatever guy thing you were doing.”

She paused aware of how it sounded, he stifled a laugh.

“Not like that obviously! Not that it’s anything to be ashamed of if you do or don’t-“ She stopped and clapped her hands together. “I’m just going to go to bed, goodnight.”

Once she was safely in her bedroom she buried her burning face in her hands. It was possible that Margo was nearly right, at least about her.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Thursday July 13th

When she woke up the next morning the house was eerily quiet. She went to check the patio that was next to the pool and found it to be devoid of life.

“They’ve gone to some wine tasting festival.”

She jumped out of her skin, Steve sat at the outside table eating cereal.

She put a hand to her chest. “You nearly sent me into cardiac fucking arrest.”

He smirked at her. “Need me to grab my defibrillator?”

She playfully rolled her eyes, then remembered their conversation and her own realisation from the night before. She sat in the furthest chair away from him, he looked a little confused but moved past it.

“What should we do?” Steve asked her.

“We?” She asked intrigued.

“If you feel that way, then never mind.” He said pretending to take offense.

She grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

That was how she found herself surfing competitively against Steve, when he got knocked off by a particularly large wave she laughed so hard her stomach hurt. After a while they sat by the shore to rest.

“I’ve missed being here.” He told her.

“This view never gets old.” She agreed.

He pointed to himself. “You mean this view?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She chuckled splashing some water at him, he grinned at her.

“I’m glad we get to hangout like this again, I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She found herself saying.

His face became more serious. “I’m really sorry about what happened 6 years ago, about everything. I’m sorry for ditching you when we were kids and then ignoring you. I was just young and immature, I wanted as dumb as it sounds for other people to see me as one of the guys.”

Her eyes widened hardly believing this conversation was finally happening.

“And having a female friend got in the way of that?”

He shook his head. “No, it was that with you I could share things I couldn’t with anyone else. You made me vulnerable in a way that my dad taught me to be ashamed of, that it was bad if some sort of weakness could be sensed in me. I already struggled in school I didn’t want another reason to not fit in.”

“And unfortunately, our friendship was at the cost of that.” She said quietly.

 “I was the literal worst.” He laughed sadly. “I hope you can forgive me, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

She exhaled heavily. “I won’t deny that I’ve spent the past few years so fucking angry with you, but equally and I guess being older gives you more perspective, we were just kids. You made mistakes, I did too. No one is perfect and I think it’s unfair to go your whole life tying yourself in knots because of some shit you did as a teenager.” She smiled at him. “I’ll say it right now, I forgive you.”

He took her hand in his and threaded his fingers through hers. “You’re too good for me, you always were.”

Her heart sped up as he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

 What she was starting to feel for him was so enormous it frightened her, she suspected it was possible he may feel the same. Even though he’d changed and she cared about him so much, she didn’t fully trust that he wouldn’t hurt her again. It was safer to keep her feelings to herself and hope they would return to their platonic nature.

The wind had picked up and the waves were getting bigger some people were starting to swim in. She pulled her hand out of his and reached for her surf board.

“I’m going to try my luck.”

“They’re pretty high are you sure it’s safe?”

 “I’ll be careful, I promise.” She said warmly.

He let her go, clearly knowing it was pointless to try stop her.

The first wave wasn’t too bad and the second was a little tricky, but then came the third. The water was growing choppier by the second, she heard the life guard blow their whistle. She’d ride this one then go back to shore she thought. The wave crashed over her, sucking her into its’ depths, she fought to swim to the surface as she was thrown about underwater.

She came to the surface gasping for air and barely made it to the sand before she was lying on her back exhausted. A small crowd of people gathered around her.

“Miss, are you alright?” The life guard who was barely 16 asked her.

“Sorry excuse me.” A voice said coming through the crowd, Steve appeared at her side. “Hey it’s me.”

He helped her stand, as she tried to walk a stinging pain went through her leg. The crowd cleared for them as they started to walk away.

“Ow.” She hissed.

“What is it?” He fretted.

She panted. “I think I did something to my leg.”

“Are you able to take your wet suit off?”

The idea of having to bend to peel off the clinging material seemed impossible in that moment.

She shook her head.

“Want me to?” He suggested.

She hesitated, this was the last thing she should let him do as it would infiltrate her every waking thought. But she had no other choice.

“Go for it.” She said hoarsely.

He knelt down and start to pull down the wet suit to reveal her bikini, although he’d seen her in one before she’d never felt so exposed in front of him. He helped her step out of the wet suit.

 She peered down, there was a cut just above her knee.

Steve delicately touched the skin just above the cut. “It doesn’t look deep enough to need stiches but it’s gonna need to be cleaned.” He looked up at her.

There was something about seeing him knelt down gazing up at her that made her shiver.

He passed her the wet suit she held it to her chest a little flustered.

“Ready?” Steve said putting his arm around her shoulder.

 She nodded. “Yeah.”

She barely even made it one step. “No this isn’t happening. You’re just going to have to leave me, save yourself.” She gasped out.

“I’ve got an idea, put your arms around my neck.”

She did as he asked. “I’m not sure how this is help-woah.” With total ease he lifted her up into arms and carried her down the beach.

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.” She joked.

He let out a tired laugh. “Only you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Steve set her down on the kitchen counter and searched in the cupboard for the first aid kit.

He bought it over to where she was sat. “You’re lucky my mom’s got like five of these lying around.”

“You know I can do it myself, you’ve done more than enough for one day!”

He left the first aid kit next to her, the cut was at an awkward angle. She tried to lean forward to inspect her leg and nearly went toppling off the counter.  “Ok maybe you can do a little more.” 

He let out a soft huff of amusement.

He poured some disinfectant onto some cotton wood and stood between her legs as he dabbed at the cut, she winced.

“Sorry.” He muttered, then placed a large plaster over the cut. “Done.”

His hands came to rest on the counter either side of her. “How are you feeling?”

He smelt like aftershave and saltwater, it was overwhelming. “Better.” She murmured.

His vision flickered to her lips, if she tilted her head just a little more she’d be kissing him. She leant forward and instead placed a hand on his check quickly kissed it. When she pulled back she noticed a faint blush on his face.

“Thank you for taking care of me I really do appreciate but I think I need to go have a lie down.” She told him, he moved back so she could slide down off the counter top.

He touched where her lips had been. “Yeah see you later.” He said, staring after her.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Friday July 14th

“Mum have you seen my blue dress anywhere?”

“Did you not put it in your laundry basket?” Her mum asked.

“I could’ve sworn I did, maybe I left it in the dryer.” She deduced. “Do you know who dried their clothes after me?”

“I think it was Steve.”

She went to knock on his door but there no answer, she tried again, nothing. She called his name but there was only silence. He was probably somewhere else in the house. She carefully pushed his door and to her delight saw the laundry basket on his bed. That was when she heard the sound of running water being turned off, he was in the god damn bathroom.

“Shit.” She whispered rummaging through his laundry, she had to get out fast.

The bathroom door opened, time almost slow down as she looked over to see him stood there with only a towel hanging dangerously low around his waist.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” She screeched looking away.

“Why are you in my room?!” He asked the pitch rising.

She found the blue dress and grabbed it.

She shielded her eyes as she held up the dress. “I came for this but I’ll uh leave you now, sorry again.” She hurried out the room.

Once in the safety of her room she begun to pace the floor as her mind replayed the events of the past week. When they’d met that first morning on the beach, the necklace at the market, the way he’d look at her on the boat, their conversation by the shore when he’d held her hand, how he’d carried in his arms, how he’d glanced to her lips after dressing her injury and now when she’d seen him in a complete near state of undress.

She was nervous of going out that evening, she was afraid to do something she might regret. She’d always considered herself to have a good handle on most situations, but in the face of the inevitable did she have any control?

A couple hours later she’d managed to compose herself and was sat in a taxi on the way to meet Margo at the bar. She’d been unable to look Steve in the eye.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t think anyone was in your bedroom.”

 “It’s okay, it wasn’t a big deal.” He told her kindly.

She pat his arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself I didn’t see much but it certainly was a big-“

She saw the mild shock on his face. “Oh you meant the situation.” She let her hands fall into her lap.

Tonight was going to be a challenge.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Anyway, what are Margo’s friends like.” He said changing the subject.

“They’re nice, I think you met them that time at the beach bonfire back when we were 17.”

“I remember that.” He wrinkled his nose. “That’s when Tommy went streaking.”

“If it helps he didn’t have a big deal.” She nervously joked and to her relief after a few seconds he actually laughed.

“So you and Steve? I think I was right.” Margo slyly said whilst they were waiting for their drinks at the bar.

She nodded. “Yeah you were spot on, I like him.”

Margo slapped (Name’s) shoulder. “I fucking knew you liked him!”

“Keep your voice!” She pleaded. “He doesn’t know I have feelings for him and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Why though? He obviously likes you.”

 “I’m going back to New York in two days and he’ll be back in Indiana soon.”

“It doesn’t need to be anything serious. You work your ass off all the time why not have some fun for once?” Margo cackled.

 “It would be a very very bad idea, because I’d want it to be more than just some fling. If we hook up, I’m not getting over that, it’ll really hurt me.”

 “Maybe he doesn’t want to just hook up?”

“He’s a 23 year old guy Margo that’s all they want to do. He’s different now sure, I just don’t think he’s so different that he’d do long distance.”

Margo frowned. “All I’m saying is you’re never going to know what he wants if you’re over here speculating with me, talk to him and go from there.”

She tugged at her hair. “I just don’t know.”

“Talk to him tomorrow but enjoy tonight.” Margo warmly said. “Come on let’s take the shots back to the table.”

When they were back at the table, Steve was immersed in conversation with one of Margo’s friends.

“We come back baring shots!” Margo exclaimed, as they both set the small glasses out on the table.

“Cheers.” She said clinking her glass to Steve’s.

“Cheers.” He replied knocking back the shot.

The shot burnt her throat and warmed her body, she’d already been buzzed before but she knew it’d hit her in a few minutes.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

An hour and 2 more shots later she was past tipsy, so was everyone else.

She stared up at him, swaying slightly.

“What?” He asked amused.

“You’re just so cute.” She admitted, booping his nose.

“Thank you?” He laughed, he was clearly little more sober than her.

She fisted the material of his shirt. “You just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“How stuck in my head I get about you, it drives me crazy. I wish you knew how much I-“ She stopped talking.

“How much you what?” He asked.

New music started.

“Oh my god I love this song!” She cried grabbing his wrist. “Let’s go dance.”

She started to lead him away. “Did you not wanna finish your sentence?”

She couldn’t recall what she’d said.

“We’ll dance first then you can tell me what it is I have to tell you.” She slurred.

Margo gave her a thumbs up, she gave a thumbs up back not really understanding why.

“Spin me around!” She told him, he chuckled twirling her.

“Now it’s your turn.”

He raised a brow. “What?”

“Less talking more spinning.” She scolded and twirled her 6 foot friend around. “Wasn’t that fun!”

 “Suprisingly, yeah.” He grinned at her. “I’ve really liked hanging out with you this week.”

She beamed. “Me too.”

“I like a lot about you.” He confessed. “I like you in a way that’s different than I feel with other people.”

She didn’t say anything her head was getting dizzy from all the dancing and drink.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you?” He asked.

Before she could have a chance to respond she could feel herself stumbling over, Steve caught her and she started giggling.

“I’m so sorry I am so drunk right now!” She snorted

He looked at her disappointed. “Let’s get you home.”

He guided her through the dance floor and to where their table was.

“Margo I’m gonna take her home.” Steve said, one arm around her.

“Good plan.” She smiled.

She hugged Margo. “Margo you’re the best, you’re such a good friend.”

Margo patted her on the back. “You’re a great friend too!” She passed her back to Steve. “Safe journey back guys.”

As they left the bar, they ran into a familiar face. It was Tyler.

“Look who it is.” (Name) cheered holding her hand up for him to high five.

Tyler gave her a weak high five and looked to Steve. “Is she-“

“A bit drunk, yes.” Steve replied curtly, the bromance between them was obviously gone.

“Oh wait I just remembered that I don’t like you.” She lightly slapped Tyler’s arm.

As they walked away she called over her shoulder. “Don’t go tricking anyone into truth or dare or I’ll find you!” She sung.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

When they returned home everyone was asleep, he took her up to her bedroom. She sat on her bed swaying her legs, he came back in with a glass water. “Drink all of this okay?”

“Yes mum.” She slurred gulping down the water.

When she was done she gave the glass to Steve, she pat the space on the bed next to her. “Come sit here.”

“Maybe you should get some sleep?” He suggested.

She shook her head. “Later, first sit.”

He took a seat next to her, even in her uninhibited state she could acknowledge how good he looked, his hair was dishevelled and shirt a little open.

She turned to face him. “What made you change so much?” She bluntly asked.

“I finally got a skin care routine-“

“No not that, why are you not in some college fraternity called delta zeta gamma ray.”

 “Sadly Purdue doesn’t have a fraternity with that name.”

She poked him in the chest. “Answer the question!”

He chuckled. “I just like teasing you.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “The reason I changed was because of the friends I made, real friends. Once I graduated high school all of the stuff that was important, just stopped. And I realised that there were people who liked me as I was, not just because I had great hair or was on the basketball team. For the first time since being friends with you I had people on my side.”

“I’m so happy for you. You seriously deserve to have people like that in your life.” Her mouth curved up. “Are you still with that girl?”

“You mean Nancy? God no, we broke up ages ago, we’re good friends now. She actually just got engaged.”

 “Good for her, that’s nice.”

“Engaged to the guy she left me for.”

She grit her teeth. “Less nice.”

He shrugged. “He’s a decent guy and I have to say they make way more sense than me and her ever did.”

 “Wow marriage, I haven’t even had a boyfriend yet.” She huffed.

“Never?”

“No sir.”

He moved a little closer. “Is there anyone at the moment?”

“Sort of, but can you keep a secret?” She hiccupped.

“Yes, yeah I can.”

She beckoned him forward. “Come closer so I can tell you.”

When he was close enough she placed both hands in his face and went to lean in to kiss him, her lips barely grazed his before he was pulling back from her.

The rejection stung her, she got off the bed. “Oh god why did I do that?” She groaned.

He stood up too. “It’s fine really!”

She shut her eyes. “It’s not, that was so incredibly dumb, I shouldn’t have tried to kiss someone who doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“I-I do.” He confessed.

She opened her eyes. “You do?”

His hand came to cup the side of her face.  “It’s not a no, it’s a no right now. I don’t wanna kiss you when you’re drunk.”

There were butterflies in her stomach. “Oh okay.”

His thumb traced her cheek bone. “Tomorrow I’ve gotta help my mum set up for the party but later on why don’t we finally talk, how does that sound?”

She smiled shyly. “Sounds good.”

He pressed a kissed to her forehead. “Get some sleep.”

As soon as he left her bedroom she was fast asleep.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Saturday July 15th

She spent the entire morning with a throbbing head ache curled up in bed. When she’d made herself semi-presentable she left her room to get some lunch. Her memory was blurry and everything after leaving the bar was totally blank.

“Hey.” Steve said coming into the kitchen holding a box of wine glasses.

“Hi.” She replied.

He put down the box and came over to her pressing a kiss to her cheek, she stepped back and touched where he’d been.

“Why did you do that?” She asked perplexed.

 “Do you not remember last night?..”

 “I don’t remember much at all, I can’t remember even getting home.”

His shoulders dropped. “So you don’t know what happened.”

“Wait what happened?!”

Last night began to return to her.

She put a hand over her mouth as it hit her. “I tried to kiss you!”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah you did.”

Then she recalled what he’d said after.

Her eyes widened. “And you wanted to kiss me, but didn’t want to do when I was drunk..”

“And if I did that what do you think that means?” He carefully asked, waiting for her to put the pieces together.

“That you like me.” She breathed.

 “I really like you. And I think that maybe- there’s part of you that feels the same?”

She couldn’t hide from it anymore.

“Steve, I won’t deny that there’s things I’ve felt for you this week that go beyond just friendship but,” She sighed, “I’m going back to New York tomorrow and you’ll be back at college in a few weeks. There’s no point starting anything now.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care about the distance, I want to try.”

“You might not care about the distance at first but eventually it’ll become a problem.”

“No it won’t.”

“But it will!” She insisted. “You’re a young good-looking guy still at college, you don’t want to long distance, you should be hooking up with the cute girl in that one lecture who keeps smiling at you. Trust me I’m saving you the pain.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t tell me what I want. I don’t want some meaningless fling with someone I barely know, I want you.”

“Until the better option comes around.” She blurted out.

 “There is no better option there’s only you!”

 “It’s a bad idea, I’m sorry but-no.”

He looked away from her his jaw clenched.

She put a hand on his arm to try to turn him towards her. “Hey, hey Steve, come on this doesn’t need to be a sad thing, I’m just trying to be practical.” She said gently.

He moved away from her, too angry to even look in her direction.

“Why do you keep doing that?” He snapped. “Why do you keep pulling away from me every time we get the slightest bit close to something happening. You aren’t trying to protect me, you’re trying to protect yourself.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” She exclaimed.

“I know I did bad things but I’m getting really tired of having to prove to you and to everyone just how much I’ve changed.” He finally looked at her, eyes glossy with unshed tears, her chest ached. “What is so fucking wrong with me that people can’t love me?! I’m not a monster, I’m a person.” He said voice cracking.

She felt like someone had sawed through her heart. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” She said trembling.

Tears slipped down his face, he wiped at his eyes. “Well, you wouldn’t would you, no one would.” He inhaled shakily.

He reached into his pocket. “Here.” He said throwing her something.

When she opened her hands, it was none other than the necklace from the market.

She gawped at him “When did you..”

“I was going to give it you tonight, but you may as well have it now.”  He grabbed the box from the counter top and left before she could stop him.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

She sat at her vanity ready for the party. She’d had a lot of time to think about her conversation with Steve and how he had been right about how she felt, she was scared of just how much he could hurt her. But in turn not being together was hurting them both so much more. She delicately touched the pendant of the necklace, her old matching bracelet sat on her wrist. She wanted to sob when she looked at the little golden S.

There was a knock at the door, she hurried to the door in hopes that it was-

“Vivienne hi.” She said.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Vivienne chuckled. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah of course.”

She moved out of the way, then shut her bedroom door. Vivienne perched on the end of her bed and smooth the skirts of her green dress.

“You look gorgeous dear.” Vivienne complimented.

 “Thanks so do you.”

Vivienne crossed her arms and looked at her softly with concern. “We need to talk.”

She sat down next to her apprehensively. “About what?”

“About how insane both you and my son are driving one another, it’s like wuthering heights in here.” Vivienne tutted.

 “How did you figure it out?”

“Mother’s intuition.” She shook her head. “I overheard you both in the kitchen.”

“Oh god you heard all of that?” She groaned.

“You did have quite a heated conversation in the middle of a public space so yes I heard.”

 “Well then I’m sure you know that it’s over before it began.”

“Only if you don’t try sweetie.”

“But that’s what I’m afraid of, what if it doesn’t work out?”

 “When you get to my sage age of 50-48 if anyone asks!” She chuckled. “You learn what love is and what it isn’t, sometimes it’s worth the risk. And this is coming from someone who’s only found it for the first time in her adult life.”

She raised her brows. “But you and Mr Harrington..”

“Are getting a divorce. I split up with him sometime ago.”

“Why doesn’t anyone know?”

“Steve does, I told him as soon as it happened. Both Clyde and I wanted to take our time with publicly announcing it. My party will be the last time we’re ‘together’.” She did air quote marks with her fingers.

“Wow.” She said. “Good for you.”

Vivienne put an arm around her.  “It’s wonderful but I can’t be happy until I know that you kids are. What you both have is real and maybe it isn’t going to be easy or it might not last but you both deserve the chance to experience it.”

“I’ve probably ruined any chance of ever having it.” She admitted sadly.

Vivienne gave her a sly grin. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, talk to him I think you’ll be surprised.”

She smiled back weakly. “I’ll try.”

“No more moping.” Vivienne sprung up. “We’ve got a party to enjoy!” She held out her hand pulling (Name) to her feet.

“Who’s this person you’re in love with then?” She asked.

“His name’s Pierre, he’s a French photographer, incredibly cliché I know but he’s a good man, he makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.” Vivienne told her.

She linked her arm through hers. “You deserve to be happy.”

Vivienne squeezed her arm. “So do you sweetie.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in full swing and she still hadn’t seen Steve, she however had run into Margo and Tyler who had come with their parents.

“Hey guys.” She said approaching them.

“Hey.” Margo replied hugging her whilst Tyler politely smiled.

“Tyler sorry about last night.” She apologised.

Margo snorted. “He told me.”

Tyler huffed. “I probably deserved it, I should be the one apologising to you.”

Tyler paused Margo elbowed him. “You actually have to say it.”

Tyler rolled her eyes and sighed. “(Name) I’m very sorry for being-“ He looked to his sister. “An annoying dick head with shitty hair.”

Margo burst out laughing.

“Did you tell him to say that?” She asked amused.

Tyler nodded grimly. “Yes she did.”

“Apology accepted.” She told Tyler, who finally deflated with relief.

“You guys haven’t seen Steve anywhere have you?” She asked.

“Why do you wanna know? Gonna pick up where you left off at the bar last night.” Margo suggestively said.

“It’s actually about what happened after the bar I need to talk to him, we got in a fight this morning.”

“I think I saw him go the beach.” Tyler said.

She frowned. “The beach?”

Tyler shrugged. “No idea why.”

“I’m going to go speak to him.” She said going to leave.

“Goodluck!” Margo called.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

When she was at the beach she saw Steve in the distance smoking alone by the shore, she could just about make him out.

“Steve!” She shouted from down the beach, he immediately looked in her direction.

She started walking but found the gorgeous heels she had chosen kept sinking into the sand.

“Jesus christ.” She hissed and quickly removed the heels letting them dangle from her wrist.

She picked up the skirt of her dress and ran to where he was.

He stubbed out his cigarette when he saw her. “(Name)?”

She stopped running and smiled at him. “Hi.”

He opened his mouth to talk but she stopped him. “Before you say anything I just need to get a few things straightened out.”

He nodded. “Yeah, go for it.”

“It’s my turn to apologise to you. I don’t know where you’re getting this notion from that you’re some unlovable monster because I know for a fact there are people in this life who like you exactly as you are, I should know since I’m one of them. You’re kind and funny and literally one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” His face softened as she spoke. “And I’m so god damn sorry that it’s taking until,” She locked down at her watch and laughed, “14 hours before my flight to tell you that I’m so unbelievably, stupidly, in love with you.” Her chest heaved up and down, a little breathless from the amount she’d just said.

He just blinked at her, dazed.

“This is usually when the other person says something.” She nervously said.

He walked towards her, and was so close that the shoes on her wrist tapped against him. He took them off her wrist and they fell to the floor. He cupped her face and softly pressed his lips to hers. She sighed as his lips moved deliciously against hers. After a few seconds he stopped kissing her.

Her lips tingled from where he’d kissed her. “Yeah, that’s a good answer.” She stammered.

He smiled down at her softly. “I love you too, so much.”

“You were right by the way I was afraid-still am afraid of letting myself get swept up in this.” She gestured between both of them. “It's worth all of the risk.”

“I have a feeling that this might last.” He said warmly.

“I do too.” She smiled at him. “I’m sorry about your parents getting a divorce, by the way. Your mum told me.”

“Don’t be, I’ve never seen her this alive, she doesn’t drink anymore and she’s with someone that actually respects her.”

She shook her head fondly. “Only your mother would end up with a French photographer. Do you like him?”

He nodded. “Yeah I do." He nodded. "As much as I like talking Pierre I’d rather go back to talking about us!”

She raised a brow. “So we’re an us now are we?”

“You’re the one who ran down the beach to confess your love to me.” He scoffed.

“And you’re the one who got my favourite heels sandy.” She jokingly scolded. “Why did you just throw them on the ground.”

He sighed. “Yeah, it felt like sexy at the time, sorry.”

She grinned. “I’m just teasing it was sexy, although you will be buying me a new pair.”

He chuckled. “Shut up.” His eyes dipped down to her neck and he picked up the necklace.

“It’s lovely thank you.” She told him then held up her wrist with the bracelet. “And thank you for this as well.”

He began to laugh she furrowed her brow. “You don’t have to laugh.” She huffed.

“No I’m not I’m not, it’s just funny cause-” He rolled back his sleeve to show his own bracelet.

Her mouth fell open. “I thought you got rid of it.”

He touched it tenderly. “I’d never throw this away.”

She leant up and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Do you wanna go back to the party?” She asked.

“Sure.” He agreed, she held out her hand and he smiled taking it.

“My mouth kind of tastes like smoke now.” She said as they walked down the beach.

“So does mine.”

“You were the one smoking.”

“I could stop but I think you find it too hot.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I also find you quitting even hotter.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Anything for you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Sunday July 16th

2 am

 “There’s something I wanted to ask you.” She said, they were in his bed she was nestled against him, head resting on his bare chest.

He stroked her hair. “Ask away.”

She shifted so her chin was resting on her arm. “When we went back to school that summer after we were 14, I called your house and your dad picked up, I told him to get you to call me. He never passed that message onto you did he?”

 “I didn’t even know you called, so yeah no he didn’t.” He gently caressed her face with his hand. “I would’ve if he’d told me.”

 “I knew you would’ve.”

“I wish I’d made things right with you sooner.” His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, as if letting go of something heavy.

She kissed his jaw. “Let’s just focus on now.”

They looked at each other softly and he smiled at her. “Do you find it crazy that we literally just slept together.”

 “Yeah but in a good way, like this is so amazing there’s no way it can be actually happening.” She laughed.

He laughed too. “Oh it’s happening.”

She gave him a saucy look. “If you come visit me in New York it’ll be happening all the time.”

“You’re such a flirt, I’d almost think you have a crush on me.” He wryly said.

"You know what." She pretended to gasp. “I think I do have a crush on you.”

“No I think you love me.” He teased.

“You’re done.” She sung and put a hand over his mouth.

He said it again but this time it was muffled, she took away her hand.

“I really do love you.” She said genuinely.

“I love you too.” He said softly.

 2 years later: July 16th 1992

“Is this everything?” She asked, as they stood in their new apartment, boxes taking up every inch of space.

“Why, do you have another 10 boxes of clothing?” He teased.

 “I’m sorry that I like to look cute.” She nudged him. “When did you say your friends are coming to stay by the way?”

“The 30th.”

“You excited?”

“Yeah I can’t wait!”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun, I really liked them the first time we met.”

“They loved you, maybe even more than me.” He grinned.

“The only person that loves you more than me are my parents.” She laughed.

Her parents had been over the moon when she’d told them about her and Steve, immediately asking when the wedding would be. Vivienne was delighted but she’d known from the start they’d end up together. As for Clyde, whilst things were still rocky he had actually started to call Steve more and try fix what was broken between them. At Steve’s college graduation she’d thought she’d even nearly seen him cry with pride, when his son has walked across the stage to get his diploma.

He walked towards the window she joined him, the view of New York staring back at them.

“I’m thinking that this would be a great spot for you to do your writing.” He suggested.

 “Oo so true, although I worry the view might distract me, I only just got my own column at work I don’t want to screw it up just yet.”

 “You could never.”

“How’re you feeling about your first day tomorrow?”

“Like I’m going to screw it up.” He huffed.

 “You’ll be fine!”

“God I’m lucky I have you.” He said resting his head on top of hers.

She put her head on his shoulder. “I’ll never stop thinking how lucky we both are to finally have each other.”

PART 2

[sparkle-d]

waiting game | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x you

summary: in which you switch your phone with daniel's without knowing

tags: falling in love; chatting and messages; kind of enemies to friends to lovers

warnings: insecure reader; f!reader; dumb people

chapter: 2/?

(you: blue/ daniel: orange)

chapter 2 - exchanges

hot stuff said: i have something to tell

hot stuff said: but please

hot stuff said: don’t be mad

hot stuff said: i dropped your phone today

hot stuff said: i’m a little clumsy sometimes but it’s one hundred per cent okay

hot stuff said: trust me

ma fraise said: i have no other option than to believe you

ma fraise said: it’s okay this phone has seen worst days

ma fraise said: a little fall won’t hurt

hot stuff said: phew

hot stuff said: glad we aren’t too attached to our phones’ conditions

ma fraise said: our phones are warriors then!

You put almost the whole toast inside your mouth, munching it slowly. The phone keeps on buzzing with new messages and it can only be one person - your contact list being downsized to one person during those two weeks. You’ve been talking nonstop, mostly about nothing serious, just like you would do with your friends normally. 

He’s with you all the time, telling you about his day, sending pictures of cocktails he’s drinking in a bar with his friend, knowing how stupid you can get when you forget where his phone is. Or when you say you want to listen to a new song and he immediately sends you the most unexpected song - that you secretly love but won’t tell him right away. 

You show him the flowers near your apartment, the food you eat in the restaurant and share with him places you’re visiting in Monaco, even though he says he already knows Monaco. Well, you too, but he doesn’t need to know about it.

He’s as you expected after your first chat: easy going, nice and respectful. Every time Charles and Pierre messages you, he’s there to tell you all about it. He finds it weird that they keep messaging your phone, knowing you’re not in possession of it, but doesn’t mind being the messenger with your friends. 

It’s been like living with him, but you continue not to know who he is, and probably won’t know until you decide to reveal yourselves. You won’t be joining the boys for the next race, because you’re on vacation, so your phone will be handed to him by Charles and Pierre. 

This is great, actually. You’ve been telling yourself about your connection with this stranger, how it’s easy to chat with him, even on bad days, but you don’t feel confident to meet him in person, yet. Your best friends don’t understand you, they never did, but your self confidence is nowhere to be found since you were younger. They think you’re pretty, but inside your head, you keep track of all of your flaws - and they are too many. You don’t want your new friend to know this other side of you. You want him to stay close, to be with you during your days and nights. You can’t meet him, you need to keep your identity a secret.

He doesn’t seem to care about not knowing who you are, he actually enjoys the mystery. It makes you more entertaining, you think, and that keeps him entertained. 

After finishing your small meal, you go back to your room. It’s already late at night, completely dark inside your room. The only bright thing is the screen of your phone while you type the messages. 

ma fraise said: what are you doing awake right now

ma fraise said: it’s already late where you are 

hot stuff said: well i’m spending my night talking with a stranger

hot stuff said: when i was supposed to be sleeping

hot stuff said: i have to be up very early tomorrow

ma fraise said:  oh i don’t wanna be a bad influence to you 

hot stuff said: i’m already here

hot stuff said: more sleep less sleep it won’t make a different ig

ma fraise said: i’m the opposite

ma fraise said: every second of sleep is precious

ma fraise said: if i can sleep longer i will

hot stuff said: you sound like a healthy man

ma fraise said: a man who appreciates the act of sleeping 

ma fraise said: if you’re not going to sleep... 

ma fraise said: let’s chat a little more 

ma fraise said: what do you enjoy doing?

hot stuff said: this the type of question that i totally know the answer

hot stuff said: but when people ask me 

hot stuff said: i just forget

hot stuff said: everything. 

hot stuff said: i don’t know things i enjoy 

hot stuff said: well. i know. i just cant name them right now 

ma fraise said: same

ma fraise said: i hate when people ask my good qualities

ma fraise said: like cmon

ma fraise said: i have plenty

ma fraise said: but i just forgot all of them because you asked

hot stuff said: RIGHT?

hot stuff said: i like arts

hot stuff said: i guess

hot stuff said: movies too

hot stuff said: and sports

hot stuff said: well of course i like sports i work with it

ma fraise said: hmmm so you are indeed working in the f1 field

hot stuff said: damnnnnnnn 

hot stuff said: there goes my plan in you not finding out who i’m

ma fraise said: don’t worry there’s a lot of people working there

ma fraise said: i still have no idea who you are

ma fraise said: but i like to think that we are close

ma fraise said: maybe i will stop by your work someday

ma fraise said: who knows

hot stuff said: please doooon’t 

hot stuff said: also you’ll have to go through a bunch of boring ass engineers

hot stuff said: before finding me in there 

ma fraise said: maybe you’ll stand out to me 

ma fraise said: when i see you

ma fraise said: my eyes will shine and know it’s you

hot stuff said: no you won’t ha 

hot stuff said: i’m pretty ordinary

hot stuff said: your eyes would never shine for me

ma fraise said: if we ever meet irl

ma fraise said: you’ll see if they’re shining or not

ma fraise said: but until then

ma fraise said: i’d like to think they would

hot stuff said: you’re too nice

ma fraise said: i think we make a good pair

—

It’s already the day Pierre and Charles have to leave for race week and they will take the stranger’s phone to exchange it with yours. Everything is already planned, the two of them will leave the phone on a table in the Ferrari space in the paddock, since he knows you’re a Ferrari fan. And after practice day, he will leave your phone there too. That means two things: he will be there the whole race weekend and no cell phone for you in the next following days.

That could be a good thing, because you will enjoy your vacations more, spend more you-time than you would with a phone on sight. You can freely do whatever you want. Go swimming, shopping or even hiking, the options are endless. 

But you end up spending the weekend in front of the tv, watching Formula 1 content. Maybe you’re destined to only enjoy that, it’s your work, your hobby and you can’t escape it. Also, every time the camera focuses on someone in the garages a thought crosses your mind that they could be the stranger you created a bond with. You hug your legs and eat your granola as you enjoy your time alone watching the preparations for the race.

It’s actually enjoyable now, since you don’t have to worry about your work, your heart only beats faster because you want your best friends to do good on track, and especially this weekend, they are having amazing results. Everything is going according to plan and you get to be at ease a little.

Pierre and Charles are always saying about how you worry too much, your brain is always making things up inside of it, creating unreal and real problems for it to solve. But about this? You feel as if you are freeing yourself more and more, especially because you don’t have to worry about things you normally put all your energy into.

—

bubbles said: phones switched!

bubbles said: but he might have bumped into us accidentally while doing it

—

You look at your friends, arms crossed in front of your chest. Your phone is between you on the table of your kitchen. The boys are having breakfast, Pierre having a bowl of cereal and Charles eating all the strawberries he found in your fridge. 

“So?” You ask, waiting for them to talk, the ice in your orange juice melting as you wait.

“Yeah, that happened, he saw us.” Charles starts, not giving much thought to the story “Pierre wanted to pee and then stopped to talk with his crew, so we got late and when we arrived to leave the phone, he was already there, waiting.” 

You feel like snorting at them, because they have seen the mysterious guy you’ve been talking to for those two weeks, but they did more than expected. Race week is already chaotic for them, too stressful, and they did you a favor. You can’t blame them for meeting your stranger.

“Have he said something?” You switched your position in your chair.

“He laughed.” Charles shrugs “Like a lot, because he thought I was the owner of the phone for a moment and was pretending to be a girl.”

“So, you already know him?” 

“Yeah, a bit, maybe.” Now it’s time for Pierre to talk, he sounds as bored as Charles, but you know they are faking it. They want to sound unenthusiastic so you won’t get a hint of who the mysterious guy is “He definitely is a guy.”

There’s a question that gets stuck in your throat, the words almost leaving your mouth, but you hold up. You rephrase your thought “H-How does he look? Normal?”

“You mean two eyes and one nose? Yeah, normal.” Pierre sips from his juice.

Charles chuckles “She wants to know if he’s handsome.” You try to defend yourself, your mouth opening and closing as you try to choose which word you should. In the end nothing comes out “He’s pretty decent, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about it.” You try not to blush at his comment. Of course you wanted to know more about his appearance, but him being handsome or not wouldn’t change anything. This was the point of it all, not caring about his looks, you remember yourself “If you two know him and have seen him, are you more at ease about me exchanging messages with him?”

They both nod, exchanging a look you can’t catch what it means. You take your phone from the spot it has been sitting for a moment. It feels new, as if you got a brand new one, but it’s your old phone that took a break from you. When the lock screen lights up you feel a chuckle bubble up your throat. 

hot stuff said: i thought pierre was catfishing me this whole time i’m glad you’re not him

hot stuff said: i knew it wasn’t him after all!!

hot stuff said: also will never leave charles alone about his nickname being bubbles

ma fraise said: won’t you tell me what you did in front of pierre to be so embarrassed of him?

hot stuff said: nothing too serious only drunk people doing shit hahah

hot stuff said: but he always remembers me about it when i see him

ma fraise said: ugh you already know too much about me

ma fraise said: you already know i’m friends with these idiots but i know nothing about you

ma fraise said: are you an engineer? a journalist? a mechanic? NO IDEA

hot stuff said: i’m liking this whole secretive thing

hot stuff said: won’t open my mouth about it. it was your idea deal with it

You sigh at the message, not because you desperately wanted to know who this person is - you don’t, really - but you want to know more about him. You feel like he already knows too much about you, he’s so close to you and you still know nothing about him. It feels unfair. 

“We are going to meet the boys in Max’s house, you wanna join? Or are you in a formula-1-free-time even for this?” Charles asks, finishing his snack. You debate if it’s better to go with them, or stay alone, but you've been alone for too many days.

“No, it sounds nice. I like Max’s company, he’s always doing something embarrassing in my presence.”

“Because you only saw him drunk outside of tracks.” Pierre says.

“So I hope there’s booze today too.” You smile at them, leaving for your room to get ready.

But first you text your mysterious boy.

ma fraise said: tell me a secret about you

ma fraise said: something that will surprise me

ma fraise said: then we will be even with all of this 

—

When you arrive at Max’s apartment with your two best friends you remember why you always ditch them when they invite you to these kinds of meetings. It’s basically you with a bunch of boys drinking together, and there’s nothing that will get into your insecurities than being in the presence of men that are always around perfect women and models.

You’re not like that, far from being perfect in any way. You’re way too ordinary, and even if that’s not a flaw, you feel like it is in this world. Charles has literally slapped you one time because you were talking lowly about you on a night out and he totally disagreed with you. Pierre sided with Charles that night.

Tonight there’s no one for you to compare with, no girlfriends in sight, but you still have those thoughts wandering inside your mind. You try to hide them with a sweet smile. The others that are there are also drivers, friends with Charles and Pierre, and obviously, with Max too. They are drinking beer and eating snacks in front of the television when you three arrive.

They are watching a volleyball match as background and with music on, not your favorite sport but enough for you to engage with. You greet all of them and sit on a spot near the tv, more interested in the game than in their silly conversation. Pierre telling them about the stories you’ve already heard him telling you about.

“Hey.” you look away from the tv to Daniel Ricciardo sitting next to you, with a bowl full of peanuts in one hand and the other holding his beer “want some?” 

“No, thank you, Daniel.” You smile at him.

“Oh, you know who I am!” He sits beside you and sounds indeed surprised.

You raise one of your eyebrows because yes, you know him. He’s friends with your friends for years, you’ve been introduced to him more than once through the years. And of course, he’s a famous driver, even if Charles and Pierre never introduced you two, you would know who he is. 

“Well, we met before so yeah, I do.” Your smile fades a bit, only staying in your lips as you try to sound well mannered.

“We did?” He has an amused tone to it that makes something sting inside of you.

“Maybe you were a bit too drunk in those encounters, but we definitely met.” You put a bit of space between you two and this time, you let your annoyance show in your face.

“Come on, are you offended I don’t remember who you are? Did I hook up with you or…?” Daniel says it, touching your shoulder with his and you try to control yourself and not roll your eyes at him.

“I’m not offended at all, but if I’m not interesting to you, I see no reason in sharing a longer conversation with you right now.” You say, hardly looking in Daniel’s direction, keeping your eyes away from his.

You aren’t offended as you said, but there’s something twisting inside of you. You know you have nothing special in you. There’s no reason for him or anyone to remember who you are, you’re like a ghost to everyone most of the time… You try to block your thoughts from going into that specific part of your mind, or you would sink into it too quickly.

“Okay, if you’re not offended we can talk a bit.” He smiles at you, leaving his beer on the floor and starting to eat the peanuts from his bowl “If you tell me your name right now, I promise I won’t forget.”

You roll your eyes “I don’t think that’s important to you at all.” You almost hiss it in his direction, crossing your arms “As you made it seem you don’t even remember the name of the people you hook up, mine isn’t as necessary as those.”

“This leaves me no option, but to call you the way I want.” You shrug, not caring about his opinion - just a bit maybe.

“Go ahead.”

“So you won’t mind if I call you…” He leans into your direction, now you can smell the beer on his breath. Nice, he’s alway drunk when he’s around you “baby girl?”

You almost choke when he whispers the words near you. You look at him, to find him smiling big at your reaction. You become dead serious, hearing him laughing because even if you have a straight face, you must be blushing.

But two can play this game.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” You raise your eyebrows “I’m sorry, but this doesn’t work with me, especially from men that act more like a kid.” 

You get up from where you’re sitting, feeling annoyed and bothered by him, finding it more peaceful to be near your best friends. Even if you’ve heard this event story too many times.

hot stuff said: a secret? hot stuff said: lemme thnk aoubt somwthing

(prev chap // next chap)

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

[mishirak]

Beauty in Everything [2/2]

Pairing: Gaston(Beauty and the Beast) x F!Reader

Ratings: General

Warnings: Death of a loved one, depression, angst with a happy ending and final part

A/N: I did not expect people to like this fic or people like Gaston in 2021. What a pleasant surprise! I redid the ending, I’m way happier with the ending as a terato fan.

Word count: 2.4k

Like my works? Support me on Ko-fi!

> Part One! | Alternate Ending

That was nearly a week ago. The Beast drops you off near the town after wrapping your ankle. You understand why he wouldn't enter the town. You don't get a chance to say goodbye when you hear your name being called. The town folks were searching for you, and he promptly left after that. You limp towards the noise, making sure not to place too much pressure on your injured ankle.

Apparently, Josephine was okay, she ran towards home, and your mother was frightened that you were not with Josephine. There were many questions from folks. You informed them everything and left the Beast out of it; you don't think they will be happy to hear a beast anywhere near them.

Since then, you've been stuck in your house for a couple of days, your mother making sure your ankle is fine and healing properly. You sighed as you continued sewing the clothes. The good thing is that your ankle is starting to feel better, so you can start moving around without your mother pestering you. It also means you can go to the next town to buy her medicine. You remind yourself not to take shortcuts in places you aren't familiar with without any guidance.

"Ma! I'm going to buy medicine! Do you want anything before I go?" You said as you are getting ready for the ride, you hear your mother's footsteps behind you. "No, just come back home safe." You sighed as you turned around to look at her, "mama, it was just a one-time thing. I promise I won't get hurt again." You told her as you gave her a reassuring smile and hugged her. You pull away and climb on Josephine. You looked towards the direction of your mother and waved goodbye to her; once you both bid your goodbyes, you're off.

As Josephine walks you both through the forest, you were in deep thoughts, thinking about your mother and the Beast. The Beast has been plaguing your mind for a while now; you wonder if you will meet him ever again. There is so much you want to ask him, to know more about him. "Why are you here again?" You jumped at the voice; you looked around and saw Beast.

"I didn't expect to see you again!" You said with enthusiasm in your voice. You smile at him; you're glad to see him again. "I'm going to the next town to buy my mother's medication." You continued; he scratched the back of his neck, looking unsure how to answer you. "...Do you want to company me there? If you don't mind, that is." You offered, hoping that he takes on the offer.

You smile brightly as he accepts the offer and the two of you continue your trip to the next town.

And your friendship with Beast blossoms after that; since then, he has been accompanying you throughout your trip. While he's isn't too keen on talking about himself, you figured that he isn't comfortable talking about it yet. You decided to talk about the forest he resides in, what happens in the town, and you.

You'll be lying if you say you don't fall in love with the Beast; he gives you comfort that your mother can't provide. Especially since your mother's health has been deteriorating as time went by. The aunts around you and even Agathe said there's nothing you can do to stop the inevitable death of your mother.

Beast no longer just accompanying you through your trips; he was becoming your source of comfort, your friend. There will be times where you visit him just to sit together in silence.

You didn't think you would lose your mother 3 years after your father's death. Your family meant the world to you, especially your mother, who teaches everything you know. The house feels too quiet now; without your mother's coughing, the reality starts to sets in. Your mother is no longer here with you.

You didn't visit Beast after your mother's death; you don't have any energy to stand up and do anything in general. Once your food runs out, you realized you need to get out. Using this reason, you go straight to the place you and Beast usually meet.

The walk towards there, you don't know if Beast were still there, was he angry or was he worried? What if he wasn't there? Your thoughts and doubts immediately wash away when you saw his silhouette. Your slow walks suddenly became fast-paced as you run towards him, Beast quickly turned around as he was startled to hear footsteps behind him.

When he saw it was your footsteps, he catches you as you throw yourself to hug him. The feeling of his fur, his arms hugging your frame, being safe and protected in his arms. You remember the times he comforts you while being in his arms.

He never saw you cry this hard, not over things or anyone else other than your mother. He knew the worst has happened; he hugged you a bit tighter, burying his head in your hair. "I'm sorry." That's all he can say as you cry in his arms.

You didn't think you have more tears to shed after days of crying; you felt so tired afterwards. You close your eyes and steady your breathing. After a while, you look at Beast and give him a smile. "Thank you," you said as you dry your face with your hands.

"I didn't do much, you should... go home, it's going to be dark." He said, but you shake your head. "I don't want to; it's too quiet. I have no one," you said, and you look down at your lap. You saw his large hand taking one of your tiny hands. "Then let's go to mine," he said, pulling you up making you both stand up.

You both walk in the direction of his house, which is a hunter's hut that he can barely fit through the door. You never stay too long in his place; there wasn't much to do in the hut, so the two of you spend most of the time outside. 

As the two of you went inside his house, you awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. "You take the bed. You must be tired. I will be here when you wake up, don't worry." He said and push you to the only bed. You were about to protest about you taking the floor, but you immediately realize he doesn't fit the bed at all.

You lay down on the bed and lay on your side, looking at Beast. There was a bit of silence as you two look at each other until he decided to turn around, his back facing you. You giggled and finally close your eyes, letting sleep taking over you.

You technically still live in the village; however, you rarely return to your home. Returning to only clean the house and wash your clothes. You haven't retired from your work, you just don't work twice as hard, there weren't any medications you need to buy. You found out that Beast hunts for his food, which saves up some money.

You panicked a bit when one of the aunts asked about you, asking why you were rarely at home. You lied to her, saying that you moved to the forest that's not connected to the main path. The aunts were a bit suspicious about you, but Agathe was there for you and to soothe the gossiping people.

But that wasn't enough.

When one of the villagers found out where you lived and saw Beast. You didn't know anything about it until the next time you went back to the village. The people start to surround you, telling you that you've been hiding a beast.

After hearing those words, you try to escape from the people. A man catches your arm, trying to hold you down. By some miracle, you manage to pull away and escape the mob. You ran towards the hut to warn Beast and to escape from the place together.

You saw Beast's large form as you ran towards him before you can say anything, "there they are! Get your weapons ready!" You froze in fear when you heard a man's booming voice. You turn your head and saw the mob with their weapons ready. You grip on Beast's fur; you never felt this scared before.

Without warning, a shot was fired, and Beast started running away from them. It was happening so fast, you didn't even register what had happened. You suddenly felt pain behind your back; you finally realized that you were shot.

"Beast-" you call out to him; he didn't acknowledge you and keep on running. You winced in pain as you felt his big hand putting pressure on the gunshot wound. "Don't fall asleep on me. Please." He begged desperately and look down at you; you never hear or see him this desperate. It hurts your heart.

"I won't." You lied as you smile at him. You felt yourself getting exhausted, you know it's due to blood loss, but you still want to reassure and comfort him. Like the many times, he did to you before. You try to keep your eyes open.

Suddenly he stopped and put you down, making you sit on his lap while he's holding your back, "talk to me. Anything." he said out of nowhere. You look at him, trying to think, but he continued. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, you wouldn't be like this if it weren't for me" Your expression changed to anger when you hear that.

"No, it's not. It's those stupid villagers' fault. We never harm them, and yet, their minds come to that conclusion. Don't ever think it's your fault." You argue weakly. If you could, you would yell at him, but you don't have the energy to. Beast just huff at you while his other hand caressed your head. You lean towards it, smiling as you do so.

"I wish we could do this more."

"Once you heal, we can do it however much you want." He said, continuing playing your hair. You hummed in delight as you snuggle closer towards his chest. "I love you, Beast. Thank you for being there for me. These past 3 years, I have so much fun, experience things I've never have before meeting you." You confessed, your voice was weak that Beast can hardly hear it.

"I love you too" You felt him hugging you closer, feeling something wet on your face, you see him crying; however, you don't have the strength to wipe his tears away. You let sleep take you; it was getting harder to open your eyes.

Beast stays in his place for a while, continues playing with the dead girl's hair. He was too focused on the girl and didn't realize that someone was approaching him. Once he did, he roars at the stranger and jumps back with the girl in his arms to avoid them getting closer to him and the girl. His eyes widen as he soon realizes it was the same enchantress that cursed him.

"...Please bring her back. She's all that I have after you've cursed me. I will stay as a beast forever if it means that she's brought back to life," he begged to the Enchantress. The Enchantress was taken by surprise; she expected him to lash out at her, not just that, he offered to stay as a beast. During her stay as Agathe in Villeneuve, knowing Gaston, his appearance and his ego were huge factors of who Gaston was.

"Are you sure? You do know that you still have a lot of time to break your curse, right? There will be more people that can break-" "I DON'T WANT OTHER PEOPLE!" The Enchantress jumped as he cuts her off and slams his hand on the ground; Gaston continues. "She's not like any other people. No one can be like her."

The Enchantress smiles at that and walks towards Gaston and [Y/N]. She crouches down to the girl, waving her wand around the girl as the bright light appeared and blinded the beast. He closed his eyes.

After a few seconds, he opens his eyes to see that the Enchantress wasn't here anymore. He looks down at [Y/N], grabbing her face. Noticing that her body felt warm, unlike a few minutes ago where her body was cold. The girl shakes her head and blinks a couple of times. "Beast? What happened?" she asked.

You woke up suddenly, not remembering what exactly happened. You look at Beast, he has a surprising look on his face, but you don't know why. You were about to ask again until he engulfs you in his hug. You went along and hug him back.

"Let's go home..." he said and smiles at you. He stands up with you in his arms. "I can walk on my own, Beast!" You playfully kick around in his arms but still wrap your arms around his neck. "I never tell you my name, have I?" He changed the subject as he walks towards his hut. You quickly change your position and sit on his forearm and wrap your arms around his neck again. Which makes you two's heads close to each other.

"Oooh! What's with the sudden change of mind?" You teased him. Beast huffed and stopped talking. "Wait! I'm sorry! Please tell me your name! It's not fair that I don't know yours for 3 years!" You keep on pestering him, shaking his shoulders to change his mind.

"Gaston. That's my name." Gaston said. You stopped your pestering and think about it. "That's a nice name. I thought it's going to be more... different. Now that I know your name, will you tell me more about you?" You asked him. All these years of waiting to know more about Beast finally felt worth it. Even if it's just his name.

"Hmm, soon." He answered and smiled at you. You smile back when hearing that.

"I love you. Like romantic way kind of love." You said it out loud, suddenly feeling confident. "I know, and I love you too." He replied back casually. He leans in towards you and plants a kiss near your lips. Before he can pull back, you kiss him on the lips this time.

"Wrong place, Gaston." You said playfully and giggled. Gaston hummed and continue walking back home.

[plaidbooks]

The R Drug part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! I got swept up in bingos and lost motivation for it along the way. But it’s here now, and I hope you all enjoy it ❤

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Tags: alcoholism, mentions of alcohol poisoning, a lil bit of a steamy make out, but that’s it

Words: 2114

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31 @objection-argumentative

Year 1:

Sonny hardly contacts you. You go weeks with nothing from him, only to wake up at 4am with a phone call and a very drunk Sonny.

“Sonny? It’s 4am here—”

“Doll…I’m so—” you can hear how his words slur, and you can also hear that he’s crying— “so sorry, doll. I shoulda neva touched ya like that—”

“Dominick, are you drunk?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, worried and annoyed at once. “So—sorry…so sorry…” and then he hangs up. You fell back onto the bed, concerned about him; Genoa was only six hours ahead of Manhattan. He was drunk at…10am. That wasn’t healthy.

Unable to fall back asleep, you shot him a text, making sure he was okay before you got in the shower. But he never responded. Sighing, you call his mom; you still had her number since Sonny called her from your phone, and you had been growing close with his parents.

She tells you that she’s worried he’s drinking away his problems, but every time she offers to go to Genoa, he shoots her down, telling her he needs time alone. You’re just worried that time alone means him sinking further and further into the bottle.

 ********************

Year 2:

You saw when your phone lit up, Sonny’s number flashing on your screen. You glanced around the precinct before answering your phone, heading for the on-call room for privacy. It had been three months since you had a drunken call from him, and you were going to lay down the law with him.

“Listen, Sonny, I can’t listen to your drunken ramblings while at work—”

“Ah, shit, ya at work, huh?” he asked, cutting you off. But he sounded lucid rather than drunk. “I’m sorry; I forgot the time difference. I just wanted ta talk, let ya know…I’m not drinkin’ anymore. Look, I’ll let ya go; text me when ya free so we can catch up…please.”

You felt bad for assuming, but with your only contact for the past year being drunk Sonny, it had become habit. “Y—yeah, I’ll see if I can leave early, okay? But don’t stay awake for me.”

“Don’t get in trouble fer me,” he replied, making you chuckle. “I’ll talk ta ya soon…and I’m sorry, fer the past year.”

 *******************

You were no longer with SVU; it had been too hard working there, especially without Sonny. But you also couldn’t deal with the stares, even from your squad. So, you transferred to Homicide instead. And your boss thankfully let you leave early.

You texted Sonny the moment you were home, and instantly he was calling you.

“First, I wanna say I’m sorry fer the drunk calls—”

“Dominick Carisi Jr. If you say the phrase “I’m sorry” one more time, I’m going to fly to Genoa and smack you,” you replied, cutting him off.

He fell silent for a moment before he let out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet ya tired of hearin’ that, huh? Well…After ya left here, I—I spiraled. Hard. Turned ta the bottle, if ya couldn’t tell. But I hit the bottom, and I’m startin’ ta work my way back up.”

“What happened? What bottom did you hit?” you asked, breathless. You were happy he was telling you all this, because you had been so, so worried. But you also didn’t want to pry into his personal life or make him uncomfortable.

It took him a moment to respond. “I…it was 5am when I woke up, shakin’ fer a drink. I remember the first three shots as I made a cocktail, and then…. I woke up in a hospital bed, my stomach pumped. I guess I dropped ta the floor when I lost consciousness, and my downstairs neighbor heard it.”

“Oh my god, Sonny! Are you okay now?” you asked, wanting nothing more than to give him a hug, hold him to you.

“Yeah, I’m good now. I had my stomach pumped and part of my liver cut out, but I’m okay. I no longa have the urge ta drink, and I dumped everythin’ I had. But please, tell me what’s goin’ on with ya; how’s life at the precinct?”

You spent hours talking to Sonny that night, even though it was getting later and later for him. He had so many questions, wanting to know everything going on with you. He vaguely mentioned that he got a job at a grocery store as a cashier, but otherwise, he was focused on you.

 ****************

Year 3:

You and Sonny talked almost every day, falling back into your habits before all this mess happened. You joked around, sent funny pictures to each other, ranted about your days; it was almost as if nothing ever happened. Almost.

From the pictures, you could tell that he was getting tanner, and he started growing out his hair and beard, making you swoon. Not that you’d tell him that; you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you flirting yet.

But you were happy that things were getting back to normal with you two. It had been almost 4 years since the club incident, and it barely crossed your mind anymore. You had dated since Sonny was in Genoa, but no one seemed to be working for you. At least you could make out with someone without having flashbacks, so you called it a win.

You knew why it wasn’t working out for you, though; you were in love with Sonny, had been since the moment you met him. You were able to move past the club, but you couldn’t move past him. That’s why you had hated yourself so much, and that’s why you felt terrible leaving him behind in Italy. When he kissed you outside the airport in Genoa, you had thought that maybe he had felt the same way about you. Then that first year with drunk Sonny happened, and you weren’t sure about anything anymore.

You were still close with his family, too. Ma Carisi often invited you over for dinner, and you met Sonny’s sisters. You were the emergency babysitter for both Mia (who didn’t think she needed a sitter, until she met you and had fun with you) and Bella’s little girl. And Pa Carisi enjoyed having debates about laws with you, plus the odd sports talk. Slowly, you became one of the family, and you loved them all like your own.

 ***************

Year 4:

Ma Carisi called you, inviting you over for dinner once again. You accepted, telling her you’d be there in thirty. You had to park on the street with all the cars there; the Carisi girls were home for dinner, as well. You smiled as you made your way up the path to the front door, then knocked. The door opened, but instead of Ma Carisi greeting you with a warm smile, it was Sonny.

“Hey doll,” he said, eyes lit up with amusement. You froze for only a moment before you were crushing him in a bear hug. You heard the huff of air as you took the air from his lungs, but you didn’t care; you had missed him so much. You had pinned his arms next to him, so he couldn’t even hug you back.

“Doll…ya crushin’ me…” he gasped, and you finally let him go. Though, you kept your hands on his arms, not believing that he was there, in front of you.

“Are you back for good?” you asked, your voice hushed. You were waiting for him to deny it, for him to say he was only visiting.

“I’m back fer good. Already got my apartment—” He was cut off again as you hugged him, burying your face in his chest. You couldn’t stop the tears that appeared, so happy to have your best friend back. He rubbed your back, murmuring that it’s all okay now, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him. You fought the urge, not wanting to complicate things.

Instead, you ran your hands over his back, then leaned away to look at him. “Have you been working out?” It was true that he was deliciously tan, his hair coifed, and his beard trimmed neatly. He was already so much more attractive than you remembered, even with the pictures he had sent.

He barked out a laugh, a gleam in his eye. “I have, yeah. Whenever I felt the urge ta drink, I instead went to work out. I’m not a body builder or anythin’, though.”

“I’m proud of you, Sonny,” you said, and you meant it. You had gone through hell after the club incident, but Sonny didn’t have a walk in the park either. And you were glad he had found himself.

A pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he smiled at you. He took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and you swooned.

 ******************

After the surprise greeting at the front door, he brought you into the house. Ma Carisi and all his sisters gave you a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Pa Carisi patted your shoulder; the normal greeting from the family. But now that Sonny was there, too, the energy was truly alive. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a fantastic time together. The talk was loud, happy, and energized. It was almost as if Sonny hadn’t been hiding in Genoa for four years.

After the talk had finally died down, it was time for you to go home. Sonny offered to walk you to your car, and you agreed, not wanting to leave him quite yet.

“I’m so glad you came back, Sonny. I’ve missed you,” you said as you stood by your driver’s side door.

He grinned at you. “A promise is a promise. I told ya I’d come back once I was…better.”

“And are you better? Did you date at all in Genoa?”

His smile faded, and you worried you offended him. You were about to apologize when he spoke. “I am and I did. But no one there was…it fer me, ya know?”

“Yeah…same thing here. I dated a few people, but no one felt right—the spark wasn’t there. At least I had no flashbacks; I hardly remember that night anymore, to be honest,” you said, looking into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sonny simply nodded. “Me either, really. It was so long ago…plus, I bet the drinkin’ didn’t help. But I do remember you, showin’ up outta nowhere on a random street in Genoa. Talkin’ me through the worst time of my life.”

“And I remember you, comforting me during a thunderstorm when you didn’t have to do that. Your emotions were everywhere; I couldn’t imagine the turmoil I must’ve put you through—”

“No, no, look at me,” he muttered, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “No matter what happens—in the past or the future—I wanna take care of ya, make sure you’re okay. Comfortin’ ya, it was a slice of normalcy after I thought I’d neva have that again. I needed ya there, and I’m so thankful I had ya.”

You smiled up at him, melting into his touch. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, and you felt closer to him than ever before. “You know what else I remember, Sonny?”

“Hm?”

Slowly, you leaned forward, going slow enough that he had plenty of time to pull away. But instead, he also leaned in until your lips brushed against each other. You smiled softly before you pressed your lips more firmly to his. The hand still cupping your cheek tilted you slightly, letting him kiss you a little more forcefully, his beard tickling you as he moved.

There was the spark that was missing from all your past relationships; you had felt it in the airport, but it wasn’t the right time. Now, however, there was nothing holding you back from deepening the kiss, your tongues coming together in a beautiful dance.

Sonny gently pushed you back against your car, the kiss getting more heated. Your hands went to his shaggy, luscious hair, tugging softly and making him moan into your mouth. His hands dropped to your hips, pushing you back against the car as his tongue memorized your mouth.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, both of you panting hard. You were about to suggest he show you his new apartment when he muttered, “I wanna take this slow. Please.”

You shut your mouth, nodding. You’d do anything to make him comfortable and happy. “I can do slow. As long as I have you, Sonny.”

His eyes brightened and he gave you his signature goofy smile. “Ya have me fer as long as ya want me.”

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hey besties!! here is part 8! Part 8 see's Amelia in a change of colours, her friendship with Jorgi explored more, an awkward Chelsea player and a cheeky Villa boy. Please enjoy & send me your thoughts! Love always, Steph xx

Part 8. | parte otto

word count;  1569 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Wednesday 11/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Landing in the rarely-sunny but always wonderful London town, Amelia was swiftly picked up from the airport by a man in a blacked out Mercedes van and driven away to her new club-appointed accommodation in the royal borough of Kensington and Chelsea. The 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of home resonating through her body. Yes, Italy was also her home for the last 3 years, but there was something in the air in London that really made her believe that this is where she was meant to be.

Whilst happy that her quintessentially-British townhouse was a mere stones throw from Stamford Bridge and her family home just on the other side of the park in Holland Park she was still a 30+ minute commute, without traffic & one way, from Cobham. Beggars can’t be choosers, at least this way she was close to the hustle and bustle of London City, as well as her family and old friends.

A few days had passed since her talk with Fede, her swift departure from bella Italia saw only a small gathering occur at her apartment with some of the juventus boys on the eve before her flight. Constant check-ins from La Cosa Nostra whatsapp group chat, of course the word had spread to the rest of the Italian national team before she had even returned home from Fede’s place, meant that she was never left alone to her thoughts for too long.

Keeping the promise he had made when she phoned to tell him the news, Jorgi was knocking on her front door at 7:30am the following Monday morning, ready to drive the both of them to Cobham for Amelia’s first full day of work. He was the only person who knew she was taking this offer, other than the professional staff at Chelsea FC who had to organise her contract, so it was very much a nerve-wracking drive to the suburban training ground.

“Sapevo che stavi bene con il blu Azzurri, ma il blu Chelsea è un'altra benedizione che mi è stata conferita” (i knew you looked good in Azzurri blue, but Chelsea blue is another blessing bestowed upon me) Jorgi exclaimed as she opened the door to his car and slid in, having stopped right in front of her house in a no-park zone.

“Morning Jorgi, Thanks so much for picking me up - i’ll sort out a car this weekend i suppose”

“It's not a problem, I'm only a couple of streets away anyway so it's not out of my way.”

The pair caught up on the past couple of weeks without each other, speaking on the Fede situation and Amelia’s feelings. The best thing about Jorgi was how he was able to see both sides of the story. He valued Amelia's opinion and feelings as much as his long-time friend, Fede. He knew how hard it was for both parties to come to an amicable separation & he was making a mental note to call his italian pal to thank him for letting the girl go.

Amelia’s first day at Cobham was heavily administrative, spending a lot of time sorting out paperwork, meeting the team of staff she would be joining, getting her uniform, sorting out her office. After a quick bite to eat with the head analyst, Paolo (she just couldn’t seem to escape the Italians altogether), she collected her leather bound notebook and followed her colleague to the first team wing of Cobham. Whilst she was strictly working with the first team, she had expressed interest early on & stipulated it in her formal acceptance, that she wanted the opportunity to work with the academy players and the freedom to dip into the talent pool of Chelsea youth, to assist in perfecting her tactical plays.

She couldn’t deny that the blue of her uniform was the perfect shade to bring out the blue in her more-often-than-not grey eyes, she felt comfortable in it, she felt part of the team. Pushing open the door ahead of them, Paolo stood to the side like a true gentleman and gestured to Amelia through the door first.

______________________________________________________________

Walking in, I noticed that the scene in front of me was similar to the first time I met with some of these players. With their backs to me, facing the front, listening to every word that Tuchel was saying to them. I snuck in, stood to the side and waited for my introduction which came very shortly after.

“I want you all to meet the new tactical analyst that the club has appointed following a very successful european campaign this past summer, Amelia White” Thomas directed towards me, and just like that, a slight bit of deja-vu settled in as i watched 30+ sets of eyes turn to look at me. Some were happy to see me, some were polite and offered a small smile, and just one set looked a little shocked and very guilty.

“I trust you all will treat her with the respect that you show me, Paolo and all other members of this professional staff. We had to fight tooth and nail for this girl to join us and I can’t express how lucky we all are to be learning from her.” Tuchel dismissed his team, Jorgi pushing through the chairs to get to me.

“Amelia! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me about this!” Jorgi rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug that I didn't return. Less than impressed with the boy's antics and sarcasm.

“Oh be quiet, you drove us both here today.” I spoke with a smile and rolled my eyes.

“Always the trouble maker Jorgi!” Mason Mount spoke from behind him.

“Amelia, nice to see you again! Can’t believe you didn’t tell us in the group chat!” Mason continued as he greeted me hello.

“Haha yeah, it all happened very quickly & to be honest, my decision wasn’t final until a couple of days ago. I had a few opportunities and I had to weigh up my options, Chelsea were willing to go a bit above the other clubs so it became obvious. Besides, someone once told me I would look good in the Chelsea blue” That someone also being the person who avoided my messages, and who is currently avoiding my eyes.

Later that evening.

“As if I deserved to know you picked the blues on sky sport?” Jack questioned the girl over facetime that evening, keeping their friendship tradition alive and cooking together.

“It all happened so quickly Jack, I was in talks with a few clubs and there was a bit of a tussle and negotiation stage and then I just had to pick one. Chelsea offered me the opportunity to foster the youth team talent and no one else was willing to cross-contaminate their professional staff” Amelia hurried down the phone, afraid that she hurt the brummie lad’s feelings.

“Calm down Mils, it's fine! I’m only playin wiv’ya. I’m happy for you - and me too, now I can come visit ya and have a place to stay in the city” He joked back to her. Jack had a certain way of calming the girl down, he reminded her a lot of Fede. He could read her before she came to terms with her own thoughts and feelings.

“Are you trying to tell me that you, with all of your friends and all of your money, need to rely on little old me for a place to stay in the city?” The joking tone went back to normal with the two flirtatious friends.

“No, I'm just saying that I'm happy you’re in the city. Ya know, it’s only a 2 hour drive. I could easily come down on a Friday after training and be back before a Sunday game…”

“2 hours is far too long to be in the car just to spend the day with me”

“That's where you’re wrong, it would be two nights and one whole day. Besides, 2 hours in the car is better than having to fly to get to you. I was prepared to do the latter anyway before your big move back to London” Oh did her heart swoon inside her chest, a quick blush spread across her cheeks and a little chuckle left her lips - unable to find the right words to say back to him.

Amelia knew the dangers of the situationship, this was exactly how it happened with Fede. She couldn’t help that she was naturally playful and flirtatious, she often didn't know she was doing it. Normal conversations to her often appeared like a hardcore flirt-fest to anyone who happened to be around the girl. She didn’t want to cross that line with Jack, she knew better than to do that, especially with how she hurt Fede in the end. She didn’t know where she was going to be in a few years, nor where he was going to be.

What she also recognised in the older lad that Fede also possessed, and she would be surprised if he didnt considering he is a professional football player, is that he was determined. Too determined that sometimes it was more about the chase and the challenge, rather than the aftermath or the reward. She knew Jack wouldn’t give up on her and would always be there for her. Was it bad that she enjoyed it?

Part 9. | nona parte

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh Season Zero: The Yo-Yo Crimes of Jounouchi Pt 1

It’s been a while since I visited the many times Yugi should have gone to jail, AKA season Zero, and I’m excited to visit it again.

If you just got here, this is Season Zero, which is very different vibe and a different direction plotwise than the other seasons and you can read the season zero recaps from the start in chrono order here: https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yuugi%20muto/chrono

So be warned, this is a 90′s anime, and it will do 90′s anime things, and I expect y’all reading this aren’t like 12.

Like I said in an earlier post, I wrote this out fully when I was going through the symptoms from my second dose--which PS, is worth it--but those symptoms knocked me out for 10 days. I was kind of a space cadet, and yo, I made some mistakes. Including writing this post out in full and then not clicking “save” on this post and then not realizing I had done that until several days later.

So long story short, I don’t remember what I originally wrote here, but lets all assume it was weird, and didn’t make sense and wasn’t funny. We’ll just assume this was for the best that it was deleted forever.

So this episode is about 2 things: Yo-yos and Jounouchi. Both get used as a tool for violence, and both need to get just a little bit cursed by Yugi to scale it the hell back. So, understandably, we start off this episode with Jounouchi, who has eagerly identified with this off brand yo-yo he apparently got out of a dumpster for being just a huge ass defect.

(more Yo-Yo crimes under the cut)

I see you dodging copyright infringement, Yugioh. Eireboy.

Also whenever I read “Eireboy” I do it in my mind in the same pacing and vocal tones that Pegasus uses to say “Kaiba boy.” Something about it’s conjunction to Yugioh, I see anything with “boy” at the end of it, and it’s voiced by a weird guy with one eye.

So I wrote these caps under the influence of my second dose, just assuming y’all understand the life I lived, but I realized writing this episode...traveling bands of yo-yo performers that go to your school and shill yo-yos with yo-yo shows in the hopes that it will get you so obsessed with yo-yos that you will not join a gang and do drugs and have sex may be just an American thing.

So when I saw a yo-yo episode I was like “Tight! Clearly, the yo-yo clowns have come to town!” and I assumed everyone in this class would be draped in yo-yos, because I just assumed that at some point at School you will get MAD OBSESSED with yo-yos for about 2 weeks.

But in this episode, everyone was like “Jounouchi, why are you playing with a random yo-yo?” and it didn’t occur to me until typing this out just now: only Jounouchi is doing this. He did this unprompted, without the encouragement of a bunch of middle aged performers doing tricks to techno music.

So instead, I have to think of Jounouchi as Ralphie in this scenario, and he just got a official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200-shot, range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time for Christmas, but he’s gonna shoot his eye out.

Because yo-yos in this episode are basically guns.

...Kind of like a duel deck was also just a gun...

...or the wands in Harry Potter...

...which honestly...I’ve probably said this before but where I’m from, we just use straight up guns in these elaborate analogies because we freakin have to make the point crystal clear. The moment Ralphie finally got his hands on a bb-gun, he very nearly shot his eye out and broke his glasses. And that scene will haunt me until my dying day...

...but fine, we can use yo-yos, I guess it works, although to me, yo-yo’s are just teachers hoping you’ll become such a dork that no gang will accept you (and then in this universe, it does the opposite? So freakin weird).

The beginning of this episode is Jounouchi trying do his best to impress with his skills, but in actuality, getting very close to clubbing Anzu with a yo-yo. And, while Anzu is the strongest person in Yugioh in the later seasons, I feel like Season Zero Anzu is another level. It’s a serious tempt of fate that Jounouchi is doing, so Honda wisely cuts him off from doing any more of that so she won’t end up strangling yet another person in broad daylight in the middle of school.

Remember your yo-yo safety, children.

Straight up, Honda’s version of yo-yo safety is to just Never Use a Yo-Yo and that’s the most gun safety thing ever that they’ve slipped into this Yugioh Episode. I almost expected Yuugi to pull a “well, actually, I use a hunting yo-yo to get enough venison to feed my family.” But youknow, he lives in a city, so while Yugioh is pretty weird and Yuugi has to worry about a lot of things--he doesn’t have to worry about that.

This is actually foreshadowing, which I only realized in hind sight, mostly because I just can’t associate a Yo-yo with crime. Joey knowing how to use a yo-yo was foreshadowing that he was absolutely part of this gang in a past life.

Yeah that one went completely over my head the first time and the second time and it really wasn’t until just now that I finally caught it. Hoo boy, sometimes I wonder why y’all let me analyze this show.

Jounouchi decides to confront the yo-yo bandits and everyone else is like “Silly Jounouchi, he’s not gonna do that. That would be stupid.” And...in S0, they don’t know him well enough yet to know that he really is that much of a well meaning dumbass.

I think a S1-5 Yugi would have been sprinting out the door to keep Joey from killing himself (again), but Season Zero Yuugi had hope that Jounouchi would just naturally tucker out and fall asleep or something.

And he was so wrong.

Anzu’s “New Tricks” line was from the dub itself and man that’s a good line. I love Anzu’s sass in Zero.

So, Honda decides to help them find Jounouchi so all of them together could give Jounouchi an intervention for skipping school. This is the same Honda that once skipped school to babysit a tomagachi and said it was because of “Maternity leave,” but don’t worry about the hypocrisy, because from this episode we learned that Jounouchi needs a very short leash.

So this episode is a great Jounouchi episode to explain stuff that still hasn’t been explained in 5 seasons of Yugioh. In S1-5, we don’t get much about his home life other than his Mom left and his Sister lives far away and is like sickly as hell. We know nothing else. But this is the episode where we finally get to find out why Yuugi and his Grandfather decided to basically adopt him from S1 onward.

Yugioh is tackling some pretty heavy territory, but I respect the show for not trying to magically change Jounouchi’s parents like they did to Dartz. Instead, the crew decide to reach out and try to find their friend who clearly didn’t go home last night (and won’t be going back for a while), by checking every alleyway in Domino.

Fun fact Yuugi drops this episode, Domino is one of the biggest cities on Earth. This makes the Battle City Tournament even more crazy when you realize Kaiba shut down several blocks but, it also makes a tiny bit more sense how we have so many Millennium items in one place. (Yet...it still doesn’t explain Bakura and Joey’s accent.) And, I guess if your city is just extra large, you get an extra large warehouse district, too.

Speaking of, they eventually find Jounouchi at his new (but also old) crime antics mugging some random stranger next to this Game store that I just realized was cropped so it looks like it says “GANG.”

Say hello to our crime clown. He’s sort of like a discount joker, and that beanie is...man it is green.

I forget this green exists sometimes, but Season Zero has it as one of their prime colors. Good ol’ Retro Kaiba green.

I’m a little tempted to swatch Season Zero a bit and figure out their full color scheme--it’s really saturated, which is interesting when you compare it to the later seasons which are a lot more muted since...the 00′s were like that, they greyed a lot of colors out. But I’ll do it later if I do, maybe another post for another day.

Jounouchi and Honda, before they moved to the school with Yuugi in it, used to go to the same school and up until now I just assumed they were close friends. But apparently they were a lot more distant than that. I’m sure they met up several times as Jounouchi destroyed stuff and Honda came along in his volunteer janitor outfit to put the stuff the hell back, and maybe that’s how they got to know eachother better?

But basically, Jounouchi was the freakin worst, and Jounouchi’s best friend was Hirotani--this 45 year old 15 year old with the blue pony and turquoise fade--and Honda has SO MUCH hot goss to say about it.

I really get the gist that Honda may not have liked anyone else at his old school, like at all. Like maybe Honda likes cleaning up trash so much because his school was just trash top to bottom.

As is tradition, Yuugi got his tar beat in by Hirotani. Another concussion to add to his list of issues to tell his future therapist that lives in that puzzle he wears around his neck.

I still expect him to do a double cross, but it seems they wanted to keep it a relatable and more realistic fall-out, where Jounouchi has just bounced on them without even a goodbye. He and his Dad had a bad fight, and Jounouchi was like “well so long to all of this and everyone that has anything to do with it.”

In later seasons, Joey is the one trying to save other people. He’s saving his Sister, he’s saving Mai, he’s saving Yugi, but in this season Jounouchi’s friends had to save Jounouchi from himself a few times now.

I like this depth to his character, I’ll be honest. I can understand why S1-5 don’t touch on it, and I don’t think it’s because they didn’t want to have an abusive Dad storyline, because they did that several times over with Seto Kaiba (man the Dad situation in Yugioh is DIRE.) Instead they probably just felt like Season Zero already did it, so why do it again?

It’s just a shame that it wasn’t talked about in the other seasons. Joey makes a lot more sense to me now because we get to see why Jounouchi is so hard set on saving people. S4 Mai Valentine, who ditched everyone and joined a gang? That’s basically a Joey move, and that was why Joey Wheeler was all over that.

Really would have added a lot to that particular arc if the show...actually talked about Joey’s history at all rather than assume I would have watched something that was never released in the States. Instead...it just looked a lot like he had only romantic motivations, which may not have been what they were going for.

Speaking of romantic, check out this sunset. Like the sun is exploding for some reason--just a wild sunset you only see for a still frame before a commercial break.

As Joey, youknow, takes on an entire rival gang single-handedly.

Hey guys, I lived near a pretty big city most of my life and I have been on a roof...once. Just the one time when I was doing an internship in SF with a painter and we needed to take a reference photo of his painting for a gallery (and it was hella sketch, and we weren’t exactly allowed up there). Who are all these people giving teens Roof Access? It’s so hard to get! Even if you live in an apartment of a tall building, I can count on zero of my fingers the amount of times I was allowed on that roof. But TV shows and movies--they freakin love roof gardens and roof hangouts and roof fights.

Am I missing out?? How did y’all get on the ROOF? I know I’m on S5 of Yugioh now and I have seen a lot of roof stuff, but like...is this normal for everyone else? I know there’s schools that have roof sport--that’s common in the city everywhere--but that’s like...specialized roofs with 30 ft chainlink fencing and really good supports to your body doesn’t fall straight through it when you jump too much. The hell is using their normal ass roof?

This gang should have their legs swinging halfway into the floor below them, is all I’m saying, if my roof couldn’t handle our solar heating, then a normal ass roof cannot support a gang fight.

But it does look really, really cool.

Anyway, Anzu does some offscreen snooping and finds out where the crime hangs out, and suggests that we step right into crime zone and just yank Jounouchi out of there. Which is something you would only do and say if you were Anzu and cannot fear death.

If it were Jay’s it would be with an ‘s. That’s how you do a plural Jay. But it’s the 90′s, so we put a “z” on the end of everything that should have been an “s” and that’s how you get the...

I mean, thank you, dubbers, for not saying “Jizz” but for reals...that be Jizz.

Please don’t flag me, Tumblr. (which, PS, I think they turned off the flagbot, Tumblr hasn’t flagged me in forever and I’m so thankful. Mods are asleep, we can talk about anime again)

So even though Honda decided that he was fed up with Jounouchi and didn’t want to save his ass, he decided to give it another go but complete with some new sash. He also did this without telling any of the others, who just kinda spectated him for a little while.

Honestly, if they weren’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t have known that this sash was any weirder than any of his other sashes. I don’t know really know what a school uniform should look like. It’s a shame, I feel like this series has a lot of jokes and puns probably soaring right over my head.

A little bit embarrased he was caught being vulnerable, Honda decides to give us a little more context to why he ever decided to give Jounouchi the time of day in the first place.

They had PE class once, and Honda apparently loves the hell out of PE. Jounouchi ran really fast in a straight line that one time, and that is why he’s trustworthy friend material. He just needs to stop joining gangs, and he’ll be solid.

I have no idea if the fandub put that in there or if that was native to the show, but Miho legit stans Honda/Jounouchi and acts as if she’s off to write some fanfiction about it. Honestly if she did, it would make her so much more interesting of a character.

And so, until next time, we shall have to wait and see exactly what Yami Yuugi is going to do with a freakin Yo-yo and I’m sure it’s all sorts of real effed up. Excited to get there, honestly. A shame it had to happen on the part that isn’t dubbed yet, but I’ve done these subbed before, it’ll be fine!

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Chapter warnings : descriptions of death, abuse, blood, and mentions of miscarriage.

Chapter 2: Honey I tried

“When did it start?” Bucky was holding on to the edge of his kitchen table.He felt nauseated with the thought of her, sick and yearning, He couldn't even picture what she had grown up to look like, A part of him was scared of his own emotions.

“It hasn’t yet!”

“ At least not as of this morning.” her mother was breaking apart! Bucky could tell she was very scared and exhausted! He knew that her daughter's well being must've weighed heavily on her, he could see the physical manifestation of her pain. In just a few hours her nails had been bit to the core, and her tears streaks had left vivid and raw tracks around her cheeks.

“Buck! I know this is a lot to ask, but you have to tell Steve! Were worried she wouldn't make it otherwise. This will be her first heat”

He’d almost forgotten his mothers presence in the room, cause he turned around and met her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She'd grown fond of her friend's daughter over the years. After her own kids had left to form their own lives, she could still go to her and relive some memories of her little ones' younger days.

“I know! I'm still wrapping my head around it, but I know what I have to do” agitation surrounded his voice. He didn't know when his heart started to feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest or when he gripped the glass of water that was left on the table so hard it shattered, but it was evident that he wasn't going to be getting any rest that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky parked his pickup in front of Steve's house. It was the largest house in the village, it wasn't Steve's choice, but he'd inherited it from his father, and his father had inherited it from his father before him. Being the house farthest away from the city limits, but right in the middle of the village meant Steve was protected, but could also be easily accessed.

Looking back at his passenger seat he saw Winnifred with her mom cradled upon her shoulder, comforting her best friend through the probably the second hardest day of her life.

“You should stay here Ma, I'll go get Steve” I know he’ll be happy to see you, but I still don't know how he'll react to her'' He opened his tool box on the bed of his truck and pulled out a large fleece blanket. Neatly folded he handed it over to his mother.

“Just keep her company till I come back”

The lights in Steve's house were on, but Buck could hear the sound of wood being shopped and Steve's grunts coming from the back of the property. As he reached his best friend's view, he took a deep breath. It was all gonna be different now, for all of them.

Steve had a large pair of headphones in, and was clearly a few songs deep into his playlist because when Bucky came around the corner; Steve almost lost a hold of the axe he was holding! Lookin at Buck he lowered his bulky headphones and stabbed the axe to the soft moody ground next to the small uncut piece of wood he was about to turn into lumber.

Steve's hair was not as long as Bucky's, and he had taken a liking to a neatly kept beard.

He grew it out as a joke at first! Clint dared him to grow it for a month, and after a month he'd grown fond of the style.So for the past year now, Steve looked less like a young soldier, and more like those lumberjacks from the cheesy romance novel covers his sister Rebecca loved to read.

“Hey Buck, didn't expect you around so late” Steve combed his hair back with his fingers. A nervous habit Bucky had noticed since childhood, especially when he had a lot on his mind.

“Couldn't sleep?”

Bucky was concerned for his friend, momentarily forgetting the reason for his sudden visit.

“ Banner called! Wanda was there earlier today, she wasn't feeling well. Turns out she was pregnant, and didn't know it!

“Steves that's awesome, when is she due ? we need to celebra…” as he looked into his best friend's eyes he saw the pain behind his look.

“She was miscarrying at the same time she found out she was pregnant, Buck. That's the third pup we've lost this year.I don't know how we're gonna get through this, It's getting harder and harder to keep everyone safe, and pretend we're not gonna be extinct in 50 years”

“Steve…” Steve's gaze was filled with a mixture of tears and rage. He took everyone's pain personally. And hearing about Wanda had awoken an unease within his soul. He couldn't fight the problem! How could a man used to protecting and fighting, deal with a problem that didn't require a fight?

“There’s an omega! She presented this morning!

“Who is she?”

“Remember Katerina? She … uhh … after she was exiled from the pack, she had a daughter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 20 years ago

“We can't just let him die! We have to take him outside the walls! Someone out there can help him”

Joseph was the second in command to Benjamin Rogers. Two of the strongest alphas the entire western district had ever known. Both feared together, but explosive apart.

Benjamin had fathered a son 7 years earlier, a frail boy. He was often sickly and his future wasn’t promised! He wasn't meant to live much longer, the boy had once again woken up sick. A high fever overcoming his small body.

Benjamin had changed after his wife's death, he blamed the boy for Sarah’s death. A man that was once kind, and dedicated to his family, now lived like a wandering dark shadow inflicting cruelty against anyone that disagreed and crossed his path. His pack was strong! But there was no harmony, only fear.

Sarah had been a beautiful alpha as well as Benjamin. She had a hard time carrying Steve to term, at 7 months she fell bedridden and two weeks later, she had a seizure that compromised her pregnancy. Benjamin himself had to cut the boy out of his dying wife. That choice, as his wife laid there lifeless , covered in blood, and cut open like an animal awoke a demon in Benjamin. He saw death in his son's eyes, that is why he could never love him. He could never care!

Katerina took care of his young baby like her own, she had struggled to have a baby of her own so when Joseph came home holding a still bloody wailing baby, she fell madly in love with the small bundle in his arms.

The boy was small, but smart! He picked up words as young as a few months, and as a toddler he was incredibly gifted. Steve excelled in art, and even knees bit of music. Katerina loved to sit down and play piano! A young Steve would lean into her side and follow suit to her fingers on the side of the pano with his small hands. Joseph and Katerina watched him grow up, and took care of him.

Steve got sick often, but nothing too serious!

One day as she prepared breakfast she had a feeling of dread on the pit of her stomach, she ran upstairs to check on Steve and found him comatose on the bed!she wailed as she held her adopted infant son to her chest. Joseph came running to her after hearing her screams. He picked up the boy from her hands and loaded him into the car, with Katerina at his side he headed to Benjamin's house.

That was the first time Benjamin had seen his son since his wife died, his son himself nearly dead!

"Please Ben! He needs help! There's another pack two hours away, they have a doctor that can help him. She can heal him for good, please open up the walls so we can go to her! They both pleaded with Ben for hours, but to no avail!

The man was already covered in anger and reeking of alcohol, “Don't you dare challenge your alpha Joe! If I find out you defied me and left this territory you will never be allowed back”

Katerina couldn't let her boy die! With that warning in heart, she and her husband plotted to get little Stevie outside the pack territory, and to that doctor.

Behind Ben’s back, and knowing the consequences in his heart Joe called the Alpha from the neighboring pack, the other alpha had the resources ready for them to arrive in the morning. His doctor, a witch, was ready to give little Steve the life he deserved.

In the early morning of the night they sped their way through the woods. Once they reached the border a car awaited Rina, a beta from the fury pack was ready to take them to their pack.

Ben had closed the pack off to treaties when his wife died, he believed the world was dangerous and the pack was better off without interruptions, he couldn't even save his wife! His pack did not deserve to be mercied, they didn't deserve to live if she couldn't. So Ben slowly watched his pack become secluded and lost.

In the morning Ben, even drunker than the night before, had shown up at Joe's doorstep demanding to see the boy. Fully convinced he'd be dead by now, when Joe failed to produce an explanation as to why his wife was gone and so was Steve.

Ben lost it!

He called a pack meeting on which he publicly executed Joe, whether it was a display of power or just pure psychopathic joy. Joe’s death left the town broken, when Katerina came back with a healed Steve, she found herself widowed and exiled.

As a last sick jab into Joe’s heart even after his death, Ben took Steve!

As the years went by Steve forgot his early years, he forgot Joe and Katerina!

Steve remembered stories of his betrayal, her exile! How their actions forever changed a pack. He grew up kind, giving, and strong! Even if Steve didn't experience or know much love from his father, he was full of it!

And thanks to that witch both Katerina’s little growing heartbeat and Steve were stronger than ever!

Tags:

@austynparksandpizza @exposition-belongs-somewhere

[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan…

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

a/n: I wrote this months ago and let it sit on the shelf. I’m finally ready to dust it off and give it another go...so let’s see what it do...

Part iii - Trifecta

Torren Sykes hadn’t lived what anyone would consider an exciting life. In fact, in her twenty-three years, she had only just left her mom’s double-wide trailer in East Bumble Fuck less than a year ago. Not quite 365 days later, she still didn’t have a pot to piss in, nor a window to throw it out of.

Truthfully, she usually didn’t know where she would be getting her next meal - that sort of thing wasn’t really a big deal to her. She actually liked the mystery of it all. There was something undeniably sexy about not knowing what the day would bring - who she would run into, or have to take something off of to survive. If someone else had to get hurt so she could make it through another day, such was life. She’d won. Those other people just needed to be better at playing the fucking game, plain and simple. 

Besides, pulling a caper or two kept her on her toes. She learned how to pull off the best of them from her mother. It’s not like adulting was one of Leslie’s strong suits. 

If only her mother had been more like her Me-Maw, now that woman was a saint. For reasons that Torren never cared to ask, she lived with her Me-Maw until she was five years old.  Leslie would periodically visit her to drop off the obligatory present on Christmas or her birthday if that bitch remembered. Not that they were ever good presents – just some cheap ass, unwrapped items she happened to pick up at the dollar store. Torren couldn't remember a gift that she had received wasn't still in the plastic bag with the receipt in it.

Cheap, whore.

Just once she would have liked a real baby doll from Toys-R-Us, instead of those cheap, hard, plastic dolls that the hand molds weren't cut out evenly, and the jagged edges cut the shit out of her face when she tried to sleep with it. But, that was Leslie. Torren didn't choose her; Leslie sure as shit didn't choose her daughter.

It became painfully clear to Torren that her mother didn’t want anything to do with her after her Me-Maw died. Unfortunately, she found herself as her mother’s unwitting roommate at a very young age, forcing the girl to spend a lot of time alone. 

By the time she turned nine, Torren was convinced that her mother was a prostitute and she was a trick baby. It was the only explanation she could come up with seeing as how her mother never worked but always had enough money to pay the rent, keep the lights on, and have plenty of booze, chips, and hot dogs in the fridge. 

Not that Torren had many other life experiences with a working parent to compare her situation to, but it just seemed pretty fucking difficult to have a job if one were passed out drunk all the fucking time. Besides, who had time to work when during your waking hours you were spending them with one of your many, many boyfriends? 

Torren used to wonder if one of the multitudes of men that would traipse in and out of that trailer were her father - but the more she got to know what type of person Leslie was, the more she realized that whoever that guy was, had gotten the hell out of dodge. 

Lucky son-of-a-bitch. 

But for all of Leslie’s flaws, she did manage to impart her three philosophies of life onto her daughter - the three things that Torren still lived by to this day. It was the least she could do. God knows that whore sure as fuck didn’t do anything else for her.

Mama’s Life Lessons #1 - There is no such thing as too much black eyeliner

As trivial as it sounded, it proved to be a precious lesson. Shortly after she had moved into the trailer, Leslie had forced Torren to sit on the bed and watch as she got ready for another one of her "dates". She had told the little girl that beautiful eyes were the one good gene that ran in their family. “You got to learn how to work ‘em,” Leslie exhaled a long plume of smoke at her reflection in the vanity mirror, “You listenin'? This's important. This right here," she held up the black liner pencil, “is gonna be your best friend.”

Of course, Torren had no idea what she meant. How was a pencil going to her friend? She didn’t really care so much as what her mother was saying to her at the moment, it was more of the fact that she was actually talking to her that made Torren hang on to every word. 

That’s why she picked up the black liner pencil from her mother's cluttered vanity table and leaned over to look in the mirror. She tried tracing her bottom lid, the way her mother had done, but at six it was a little easier said than done. She had just learned how to color inside the lines with a fat crayon; mastering the art of applying liner would have to wait a few more years. 

Leslie, however, was not willing to wait that long, "What the hell's amatta wit'chu, Dumbass? You doin' it all wrong," she said snatching the pencil from the girl's hand. Grabbing Torren roughly by the chin she said, "Gotta teach you every goddamn thing. Hold still." She mumbled more curses and said something about her good-for-nothing mother not teaching her brat anything useful.

By the time she had finished cursing her name, Leslie roughly turned her daughter's head toward the mirror, "Yeah you got those eyes. Now, learn to use ‘em.” Leslie dropped the pencil onto the vanity before picking up her drink and shooing Torren away. 

That was the day that Drew Watkins bought her an ice cream. It had to be the eyeliner. It was a true fact, not just another one of her mother's drunken theories. Eyeliner and her eyes...she didn’t know how she used them, but they worked.

From that day on Torren opted to never step foot outside without heavy black liner again. 

Mama’s Life Lessons #2 - As long as there are men around that want to fuck you, you will never need to work

It wasn’t like she going to go out and get a real job. She wasn’t raised with much of a work ethic. She was too young to remember if her Me-Maw worked and what she gathered from her mother was that there would always be men around to take care of her. 

Leslie told her that she didn’t need to work because working a man was a full-time job. If she were doing that right, she wouldn’t have time for a fucking 9-5. It didn’t matter if he was in a relationship, gay, or the fucking Pope. As long as he a dick and she could bend over, and her eyes were done, her rent was as good as paid. 

If she wanted more than just the basic bills paid, she would have to rethink what all she was willing to do - but just make sure she didn’t do too much otherwise she couldn’t guarantee a steady paycheck every week.

This sage advice didn’t make much sense to 8-year-old Torren, but as the years progressed she started to work it into one of her life’s mottos. She would never want for anything. She could always rely on the kindness of strangers and when that got to be too boring, she could always take it, just to spice things up a bit.  

Mama’s Life Lessons #3 - If you want something do whatever it takes to make sure you get it

As a child that grew up with the television as a babysitter, Torren Sykes knew that she was destined to love Ivar “Lothbrok” Ragnarsson since she was a little girl. Ever since that day she turned on the TV and saw this adorable blue-eyed boy drawing Mickey Mouse ears saying, “I’m Ivar Lothbrok and you’re watching the Disney Channel,” she knew that he had to be hers. 

He was co-starring on a show called The Baker Boys, about three foster kids, who had come to live with a family that owned a bakery. Ivar’s character was named Simon Baker - a mischievous kid that lived with his grandmother until she died and never felt like he fit in with this cookie-cutter family. 

His life was just like hers - minus the cookie-cutter family that loved him and all. She was actually with more of an alcoholic whore that didn’t give a shit if she lived or died, and not pulling stunts in a bakery with flour and messing up orders like him, but she still saw them as kindred spirits. 

When the show got canceled she was devastated. How dare the world try to keep her from her man? Didn’t they understand this was love? Didn’t those people at Disneyland know that he was the only person in the world that understood her?

As if on queue, she happened to find the Season 2 DVD box-set at the library one afternoon. Her mother had kicked her out of the trailer because she had a date and couldn’t have the dumbass child around fucking things up for her. Torren had nothing else to do - at 11-years-old, she had no money, and nowhere to go. At least the library was air-conditioned. 

She wanted that box-set. Slipping it into her backpack unnoticed was the easy part. Trying to get it past the alarms would be harder. She watched for a while, paying particular attention to the way the check-out system worked. 

When the librarians changed shifts, she let a smile cross her lips as she picked a few random books from the shelves. 

Her beautiful eyes went as big as saucers when the alarm buzzed, and the young male librarian looked down at her, still clutching the large reference book to her check. Carefully she had stepped across to the other side of the alarm sensor waiting to collect the books she was checking out.

“I’m sorry, you can’t check out reference books,” the young man said, blinking his hazel eyes at Torren, the corner of his lip tugging into a smile.

She let a pout fall on her lips as she lowered her large eyes down to the book in her arms, “Oh...sorry.” She handed the book back, “I didn’t realize I still had it.” And like that, she walked out of the library with her prize.

She had stolen for Ivar...now if that wasn’t love what was?

The only thing that had threatened their love through the years is when Ivar got married. It damn near broke Torren’s heart. How could he be so cruel? She didn’t give a fuck that the marriage was short-lived. She even understood why he had to do it. He had gotten that bitch pregnant, and he didn’t have much choice. But, he cut her deep. 

Didn’t he know how much she loved him? Didn’t he know that she stuck by him when he had joined 6cess and had seen him in concert 3 times? She still had the autographed photo of the two of them from the signing at Spring Hills Mall - when she was wearing that blue midriff cardigan and ripped jeans and he had his arm around her. That shirt brought out the color in his eyes. She even wore Happy, which he said was his favorite perfume. She thought it smelled like Comet, but she stole a bottle of it from Macy’s right before the photo-op to smell good for him. 

And he went and pulled this shit?

Besides, Johnny Law said that she was still too young for him and that he could get arrested for being with her. She knew that he had to pretend to have a normal life so that no one would know about their love affair. She was just understanding like that. It gave her time to grow up a little more so that when they could he be together, the law wouldn't be standing in their way. She really didn't give a fuck, but she suspected he did. Why else hadn't he come for her?

Torren didn’t even like their music. She wasn’t a boyband kind of girl, but for him, she would make the exception. She was more of the gangsta rap or heavy metal type girl. But if Ivar was serenading her, she’d listen to sappy, wrist-slitting, emo, shit rock all fucking day long, because she loved him. 

She hated that he had gotten that whore pregnant, too. She understood that he had to pretend that they had a normal marriage. She knew that when he was fucking that bitch, he was really imagining it was her. The years apart had made him a master at hiding his true feelings for her. He couldn't give anyone cause for suspicion. If he let on the truth he could risk losing everything…his house, cars, job, and his kid. That whore was trying to keep them apart. But, she was just a small obstacle that posed no real threat to Torren.

She did not doubt that she would be his daughter's new mommy. The kid would probably be sad at first that she wouldn't be with that other woman like Torren had been when her grandmother died. But, the kid would get used to it. Torren was going to be a whole hell of a lot better at being a mom than her piece of shit mother was to her. That was for damn sure. She was going to teach her stepdaughter all about eyeliner, and how to dye her hair. 

She was going to teach her what party clothes every woman should have in her wardrobe and how to get a man to do whatever she wanted by just batting her eyes at him. She would even share her secrets on what pills to mix and what dosages to give for submission, making a man catatonic, and if she was really good, she'd teach what to put in a drink to kill someone. Hell, she even planned on giving the child her most discrete drug contacts. That would of course have to wait until she was older – at least 13. She was going to be such a good mommy. 

Ivar's daughter was going to love Torren as much as Torren loved him. They were going to be the perfect family.

Torren was as hopelessly devoted to Ivar as he was to her. He had waited for her to become legal. Just months before she was old enough to legally consent to sex, and get married without parental permission, his marriage started falling apart. She knew that Ivar was trying to make a clean break from his wife, and get his daughter used to the idea of them being apart before he could come home to her. 

Torren had been thoughtful and respectful enough to give him that space to make sure everything was right before she stepped into the role of the new Mrs. Lothbrok. He had to test the waters, make sure that she still wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had to get back into the swing of things…have sex constantly to make sure he could keep up with her. She knew that "the prude" wasn't doing it nearly as often as he needed to - why else would he have an Only Fans page?

Torren was the only one that could feed his appetite, and he hers.

Now, they were both finally ready. She was mature and developed. She knew what she needed, and it was him. He had his fun before her, but now he was auditioning again and getting everything back on track for them. He had a great relationship with his daughter and his dumb ass ex-wife finally understood that their relationship was a fling that went too far.

His face told her everything that her heart already knew. He loved her. 

Why else would be looking at her like that? She could feel herself blush when he smiled on Instagram like that into them. Then he gave her that smile. That was her smile; the one that he reserved for her during their private times. Yet, there he was doing it in front of an audience of millions, and he didn't care who saw it. He had to let her know that it was time for her to come home. It was like a sleeper cell being awakened.

She didn't have a choice. She did what any other woman in her position would do. She packed a bag, threw it in the car she stole a few days before and drove. Armed with her trifecta of knowledge and determination, she prepared to face the obstacles that were bound to get in her way. There was nothing that was going to stop her from getting her man.

Nothing.

Part ii || Part iv

Tags: @ideagarden-blog1​  @youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @didiintheblog​ @conaionaru​ @peachyboneless​ @flowers-in-your-hayr @heavenly1927​ @zuxiezendler @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys @didiintheblog​  @revolution-starter​

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 4

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

A/N: The babies. I’ve outlined like eight chapters at least, so I think this thing’s just going to go until I run out of steam. So here’s a third part already. Also, I threw up a pinned post masterlist to throw my AO3 links on

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

November 2014

Victoria had gone to her mom’s house, the one by the Carisi’s, for Thanksgiving, but she should have known better than to think that she’d be there. Housekeepers kept the place up, but Irene hadn’t been around much since her daughter was seventeen. She hadn’t been there the year before for Victoria’s first set of holidays alone, and she wasn’t this year either. The year before, Victoria had made the rounds between childhood friends. Rachel would normally be who she went to now that she was coming to terms with the possibility of an actual divorce. She said she was coming to terms with it a lot for someone who just avoided the subject entirely and cried in Sonny’s Fordham sweatshirt at least two nights a week. Coming to her mom’s house when the childhood friends from the year before were at their significant other’s families’ houses was not her best idea when it meant she could hear the bustle of activity at the Carisi’s house. 

“Bella?” she said softly when she answered the knock at her door. It was late, and she’d heard everyone start to wind down and broken out the wine.

“Hey Tori. I know coming over ain’t exactly an option, but I snuck you a plate. And a bottle of wine from their stockpile.” Victoria motioned for her to come in, watching her unload a bag onto the kitchen counter. 

“That’s really sweet of you.”

“I wanted to make sure you ate good. You’re getting awful skinny for a baker.”

“Ain’t got Sonny making spaghetti like three nights a week.”

“He’s getting skinny without the endless supply of cannoli. Maybe you oughta come over and reconcile.”

“Bella, he knows what he has to do for us to be okay. I wouldn’t care if it weren’t for the fact whatever he needs to talk to me about made him push me away.”

“At least say hi before the end of tomorrow? He’s got the sad puppy eyes, watching your house.”

“We’ll see.” Bella said her goodbyes, and Victoria opened the second bottle of wine, settling on the porch. She saw Sonny making his way over a half hour later, sighing as she downed the end of the glass. 

“Bella send ya?” she called, bundled up in the blanket she’d brought out.

“Just said you were here. Heard you pop the cork and needed a break. Besides, you shouldn’t be alone on the holiday.””

“Nosy neighbor, huh?”

“The sound really echoes between these houses. I’d have invited you, but Ma…”

“It’s okay, Dom. You free all weekend? Or they got you working?”

“I’m not Staten Island anymore,” he said proudly. He’d been drinking too, which made it easier for both of them.

“Where are you now?”

“Manhattan SVU.”

“You made it?” Her voice was ecstatic, and he grinned when she jumped from the porch swing to hug him close. “I’m so proud of you, Dom.”

“Thanks, Tor. It’s only been three months, but I think it’s the right place. I feel like I’m really doin’ something, y’know?”

“Yeah. And you’re such a good guy, y’know? I bet victims feel comfortable.”

“That means more than I can tell you.”

“Want a glass of your mom’s wine to celebrate?”

“I’ll grab the second glass.” Before she could stop him, he went in, coming back and dropping on the swing beside her. She poured them each a glass, head resting on his shoulder as she sipped her own. It was quiet, and she wanted to get at least this long to be close to him. The hope from Teresa’s wedding wasn’t there. This would just be an evening, and he’d go home.

“How’s classes?”

“They’ve been good. I take finals next week.”

“Halfway through,” she grinned up at him as he took a share of the blanket. 

“And, I don’t know how else to bring it up, but I’m working on figuring out how to talk about how I felt. It’s like my brain disconnects when I try. I said it to my new boss, and I went to therapy. Apparently it sounded heavy.”

“I appreciate that, Dom. I know that isn’t easy for you.”

“Don’t tell nobody. Ma’s not happy about it.”

“I won’t. Spousal privilege.”

“Now we really can’t get divorced.”

“You’re not wearing your ring.” His hand slid into his hoodie, pulling out a chain with the gold band on it. 

“Yours is on your right hand.”

“It’s just hard to explain.”

“I know. The squad doesn’t know yet. I’m already trying to be the new guy. Saying I won’t divorce my wife even though I only see her ever four to six months because I truly believe she’s made for me and I love her? Way too much to unpack.”

“We hired new people. Hard to seem like the boss with her shit together when you ain’t lived with your husband in over a year.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re confident.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m scared you won’t trust me to tell me.”

“It’s not about trust, Tor. I know it’s a lot, but trust me on this. It’s not about you.”

“Okay,” she nodded, taking his hand. “You’ve been really open with me tonight. So I’m willing to believe you.”

“Thanks, doll. I’m going to tell the squad about you. That’s step one. Then I’m going to get my head out of my ass.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, arm slung around her. It felt weird knowing there were people in his life who didn’t know she existed. It bothered him too. He didn’t know how to go into everything. Whenever he talked to his mom or Gina, it ended with him crying, telling them that he knew God had made them for each other, and he’d ruined it all with his free will. He wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable. Telling them what he couldn’t tell his family was one thing; they saw the same thing, day in and day out. He couldn’t taint them. He could make himself seem broken, some newbie who couldn’t tell a woman he’d been with a decade how cases made him feel. 

“Do I have to go home or can I just hold you tonight?”

“I’m not up for analyzing things tomorrow. Limbo isn’t changing until you can tell me..”

“That’s okay with me, doll.”

“Then okay. I’m eating the slice of pie Bella brought over first.”

“Of course that’s fine,” he chuckled. “I had t’loosen my belt. Had like a quarter of the pie myself.”

“So there was pumpkin. You just ate it,” she teased, leading him in. The house looked the same as it had when they were kids. Once they got married, they never really spent time there, always going to his family’s house, and Victoria’s mom coming if she felt like it. Now that he worked with SVU, he remembered how often she was alone as a kid and felt grateful it was his family that lived next door. That could have ended very differently for her. He’d tell her about that when the damn finally burst. She plated her pie, tupperware stacked in the fridge, before she leaned over the counter and took a bite. 

“Chocolate bourbon pecan. The one you taught her.” He missed that part of the holiday the most. This was the second Thanksgiving he didn’t get to watch Victoria carefully teach his mom a new dessert. She gathered new recipes all year round, spreading them out to narrow down which she’d get the ingredients for the weekend before Thanksgiving. Sonny would usually make lasagna that day, listening as she described the pros and cons of each option and offering his opinion when prompted. 

“She did it perfect.” 

“Nah. Your crust is better. You ever gonna tell the secret?”

“Not a chance. Gotta keep my edge. You think she’s ever going to tell the secret ingredient to her cannoli filling?”

“Noted.” He dropped onto the stool on the other side of the counter, chin propped in his hand. It had taken a couple more beers than he should have had to come over, and now with the wine, Sonny had the sleepy eyes and goofy grin that gave it away.

“You’re drunk.”

“Just tipsy.”

“No gettin’ handsy, Sonny.”

“Promise. I’m a good boy.”

“Mhm,” she laughed, holding out a bite of pie he took gladly. “We’re going to have to get you to bed soon. Otherwise, you’ll get grumpy.”

“You make me sound like a toddler.”

“Only when you’ve been drinking.”

“Y’know, I’m a detective now. If I hadn’t fucked up, we might be down that road.”

“Dom, we’re so far from kids right now.”

“Let me be drunk and sentimental.”

“I thought you weren’t drunk.”

“Fine, I’m drunk.” 

“I appreciate the honesty,” she grinned, putting the plate in the drying rack. “I bet you still got a pair of sweats in my room from high school.”

“Lucky me.” She led him upstairs, digging them out of the dresser and tossing them to him. When he caught them, he was prouder than he should’ve been, stripping his jeans off and pulling them on. Victoria hadn’t taken her pajamas off that day, climbing into the bed. Sonny belly flopped next to her, and she pulled her knees up, laughing loudly. With a grin, he settled the blanket over them and flung an arm over her. Maybe he was taking advantage of the excuse drinking gave him, but he liked hearing her laugh. Sonny Carisi was still a gentleman though, and he was careful to keep his arm on her stomach and his hands on her ribs. This visit was more delicate than the wedding. Memories probably still helped; they were in her teenage room after all. His parents were always home, and her mom wasn’t. 

“Whatcha thinking?” Victoria asked gently, hand smoothing over his hair. 

“I miss this.”

“Staten Island?”

“Watching you eat pie when I’m drunk and staring at ya.”

“You’re sappy. Get some sleep.”

“If I go to sleep, it’s over sooner.” She smoothed his hair back gently, smiling as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes and hummed, and Victoria thought describing Sonny as a puppy seemed even more apt. He was curling against her, pleased at the attention as she scratched his scalp. WHen they were kids, he’d always said If I go to sleep, it’s over sooner with excitement as they waited on vacations or holiday mornings. He’d said it sadly tonight. She didn’t like that. The more times she saw him, the more tempted she was not to wait it out and come home. So what if she had to worry he’d pull away again?

It mattered because she had to remember how she felt. Waiting at home all those months, fighting him, begging for something to prove he wanted her there. Victoria couldn’t do it again, but she also couldn’t picture turning thirty without Sonny. Having a kid without him. Sitting on a porch with some other guy. After a while, soft snoring alerted her that he’d fallen asleep, arm still flung over her and his head on her shoulder. Her cheek rested against the top of his head as she tried to memorize what this felt like again. 

He’d met a therapist. That was what made it feel more like there might be a conclusion to the separation. Before tonight, she’d accepted this weird limbo may be permanent. Despite the mentions of divorce, she knew neither of them would do it. Therapy wasn’t something Sonny’s family valued, and he’d always been resistant to the concept for himself. When Victoria went, he was supportive and recognized the good it did her, but his father had always demeaned it, and that stuck with him. That wasn’t a problem before when Victoria could weasel the problem out of him. He didn’t think he was in the wrong before, but it seemed whatever was wrong was something he realized was too big for him. It didn’t bother her that she couldn’t fix it for him; she was just glad he was accepting help somewhere.

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but Sonny was gone when she woke. Her first response was panic, that maybe how they left things the morning after the wedding meant he’d opted for the same response as the first time and gone home before she woke up. Her mind stopped racing, however, when she realized she could smell coffee and bacon wafting through the door. She slipped out of bed, finding him in the kitchen with his hair askew as he flipped a pancake. 

“Mornin’ doll,” he smiled shyly, pouring coffee and sliding the mug to her. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be there, and she supposed she didn’t know if he should be or not. “I got some time before I have to go to the precinct, so I figured I’d make you pancakes.”

“Thanks, Dom.” She pressed a kiss to his temple. “Ain’t Ma going to be mad?”

“She can deal with it. She had me all day yesterday. I know I ain’t ready to tell you what you need me to, but I want to leave on a good note. Prove I’m really trying.” Victoria set her coffee back on the counter, arms sliding around him as she pressed her cheek to his back. His free hand rested where hers clasped as he flipped another pancake.

“That means a lot, Dom.”

“You felt like I didn’t want you with me. Leaving when you’re asleep or pressuring you won’t help. You told me what to do, and all I can do is prove I want you while I work on doing it. If you love somebody, let ‘em go. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come back. And it’s meant to be, Tor. Ordained by the big guy.”

“You really believe that?”

“Believe it? I know it, doll.”

“You know I do love you?”

“I know. And I do love you. We just never had to communicate before.”

“How dare we develop real problems in our twenties?”

“Right? What chumps.”

“Should we go to therapy together?”

“I’m not ready yet, Tor. But I think it would be a good idea when I am.”

“Me too,” she said, squeezing him before she let go. “I can see you’re trying.”

“I’m just glad you ain’t mad I haven’t told the new squad yet.”

“It’s super complicated. I understand.”

“Yeah. I’m still growing on them. I don’t want to seem like I’ve got a lot of drama too. Because weirdly, we’re low to no drama. But ‘Yeah, I’m married and we see each other for a day every few months while we try to figure out how to talk’ sounds bad.”

“Only a little,” she laughed, taking their plates to the table as he refilled the coffee. They ate happily, Victoria kissing him softly when he left to get dressed for work back at his mom’s house. Gianna Carisi was in the yard, shooting them a disapproving look. He shook his head at her, ushering the woman inside before she could try to talk to Victoria. Sonny understood his mom’s stance: her son could do no wrong. In reality, they had both done wrong. Victoria should have told him how she was feeling before they were in too deep, and he shouldn’t have waited so long to process what he saw on the job. 

“Ma, you leave my wife alone.”

“You’re not acting married. You’re acting like acquaintances that get lucky sometimes.”

“And you’re not helping my chances of fixing things.”

“Dominick, it’s been over a year.”

“And I’m finally getting off my ass, going to therapy, and trying to work with Tor.”

“You don’t need therapy, Dom. Just man up, like your father.”

“I do. And it’s helpin’ and I just got to spend a night and morning with Victoria with no fighting. That’s a step in the right direction.”

Tag list: @fear-less-write-more​

[l8rhader]

What are your Top 5 Paragraphs from You Can Change...? How about from the Everything Has Changed verse?

ADJFKLSJFGWOIB WHAT A SWEET QUESTION ARE YOU KIDDING ME I LOVE YOU

In no particular order from You Can Change Right Next To Me

1.  They stood that way for about a minute.  Eddie was astounded.  All it took was a little determination and creativity to come up with a simple adjustment, just so that she could do what she needed to do as a mom without hurting them.  That was it. 

2.  It was silly, he knew, but an act of, he felt, bold defiance struck him.  He stood up and motioned for Richie to do the same, stripped the top sheet from his bed, and looked around the room for something to use to affix it.  Catching his drift, Richie crossed to the bulletin board behind the desk and snagged 4 push pins from their line at the edge of the cork, then walked over to him, pushing them into the wooden frame as Eddie held the sheet in place.  It wasn’t much, and he knew it would never last if she came upstairs, but it felt like something.  

3.  All at once, the weight of everything that had happened to them crashed down around Eddie.  He'd been "strong."  He'd been "brave."  He'd been "mature."  He'd been all the things that he thought he needed to be.  And one moment of pure vulnerability from Richie and he felt it all.  The fear, the joy, the giddiness, the love, the anger, all of it.  For the first time in ages, since that day on the floor outside the cafeteria, the world started to spin.  His chest started to constrict.  

4.  “Oh, yeah, that,” Eddie smiled, nodding.  “You owe me big time for that,” he added, turning him around and giving him a gentle prod toward the basement.  “Such a large inconvenience.  Woe is me, however will I go on-” he joked.  As he wrapped his arms around Richie’s middle, walking behind him, he pressed another gentle kiss to the space between his shoulder blades.  “Having a mildly uncomfortable conversation with my mother-in-law who is, quite possibly, the only one of the four of our parents I'm not currently even a little mad at, to protect my husband from having an even more uncomfortable one?  I’m a hero.”  He shoved Richie down onto the bed and popped on the TV, crawling in front of him and nestling their bodies tightly together.

5.  “Yeah, idiot.  You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon or something,” he said gently, looking up at the Toziers’ house across the street.  He looked back at Richie, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to help him at all if he couldn't get him to Eddie.  “Which means that you’re supposed to be not leaving Eddie’s side.  I think being two houses away is pushing it.”  He looked around, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to do this.  He stood and tried to pull Richie to his feet, but it was like he was made of rubber.  “Let’s get you home, man.  Come on,” he said, voice belaying a frightened sense of urgency.  “I don’t know how I’m gonna do that because if I touch you it’s going to hurt and I know that I couldn’t carry you even if I tried and The Cardinal is in pieces,” he looked over his shoulder and looked for anything he could use; Any way he could get Richie home.  “I could probably…”  In the corner sat his old bike, abandoned since the day he got his driver’s permit.  “Do you think you can hold yourself up on my bike?”  He nodded limply and Stan pulled him closer to the car.  He turned back to grab it, immediately interrupted by a deadweight thud.  “Richie?” he asked, turning back.  Seeing him on the ground, he cried out, “Richie!”

Bonus line:  While the boys had spent time gaining proficiency in diving into the quarry, Sonia had years on them, but the only thing she was ever good at jumping to was conclusions.

Everything Has Changed is so much harder because there’s just so much of it but:

1.  They locked eyes and the whole cheesy speech, full of raunchy jokes and sentimental anecdotes Richie had been working on for weeks flew out of his mind.  Recently, memory lapses were jokingly called "The Derry Effect" between them. This wasn't "The Derry Effect." This was "The Eddie Kaspbrak Effect." The breathless, mystifying way Eddie left him feeling had carried through since they were 11 and he dragged him across his mother's house to make him wash his hands before they shared popcorn out of the same bowl.  [highest hopes]

2.  “Okay, I’m Richie because…” he whispered and huffed, cutting off his soliloquy and quietly climbing toward him.  “Hi?” He offered his Eddie a quick peck through the open window, then flicked his eyes upward, exasperation comedically magnified by his glasses, “Who else would I be?”  He lugged his upper body in the window and, aided by his still-too-long legs, managed to get inside without falling. “We’ve definitely got the father denying down and we’ll put a pin in the name changing,” he laughed, imagining a day when, maybe, he’d be Richie Kaspbrak or the smaller boy in front of him would be Eddie Tozier, feeling a familiar warmth in his chest, “but like, I’ve got some baggage here, babe.  A little help would be nice.” Aided by Eddie, he started untangling his limbs from the straps and setting the bags in a pile in the corner. [coming home]

3.  He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, trying to capture the last time he’d been that scared.  There had to have been a moment. He could feel it. A movie projector and a ramshackle old house. A dead girl floating.  But he couldn’t voice any of it. “I haven’t felt that way since…” A hammock. Bikes. Sewers. Paul Bunyan. Shared Ice Cream Cones.  Fleeting images fell through his mind and petered out. It was like trying to catch smoke in a butterfly net. “I don’t know why my brain filled in dairy?”  He shook his head, trying to figure out what he meant by that. Not dairy. What the fuck? “I haven’t felt that way since dairy? What does that even mean?”  He took one of the strawberries from the bowl and bit into it, releasing juice down his chin as he spoke. [mine/yours]

4.  Tutting, Pennywise wagged his finger.  “Oh. Not so gentile language, pretty bird.”  He pointed to the room below, where Bill was fighting against the current to get back to Mike.  “See the way this one swims? All of your friends, all the losers, they swim! Just like at the quarry.  Jump, fall, swim. It’s fun!” He laughed, licking his lips and reaching in to tease Stan once more. “Soon, they’ll float like itty,” poke , “bitty,” poke , “Georgie!” Stan kicked the clown’s hand and it pulled back.  It was not happy about that. “Not you, Stanley! Not you. You can't even tread water,” he snarled, plucking through the ropes that suspended the box in midair.  “Let's see if you can fly!” Laughing once more, he broke the final cord and sent him plummeting to the ground. “Don't forget your parachute!” he prompted, littering the ground with blood splattered yarmulke. [feeling like I missed you]

5. (arguably this is 2 paragraphs but like... it’s one of my absolute favorite moments i’ve ever written)  Laughing, realizing how ridiculous he must look, a seventeen-year-old boy standing out in the woods cradling a babydoll, he was overcome with an idea.  He took to wrapping the doll to look as lifelike as possible. When he’d swaddled her in the tiny blanket she came with, he mussed his hair up to look a little more frazzled.  Then, he found a position for her in his arms that looked believable for an actual infant to be in. Finally, he cooked up a little story about a certain redheaded Loser who had popped back in a little while ago to visit and, well, surprise, Ma!  He couldn’t believe what he was going to do, but now that the idea was in his head, he couldn’t get it out. “Let’s go see if we can’t give your Grandmonster a heart attack, okay?” He laughed as he moved in through the back gate, whispering to the small bundle in his arms.  “Roll out…”  //  Heart attack was pretty close.  Eddie slunk into the house as guiltily as possible, then shook Megan a little harder than what one would classify as a rocking motion.  As soon as he did, she let out a piercing scream that he managed to quell. His mother yelled out for him and he quietly edged into the room, keeping his back to the wall and the doll’s face hidden.  His mother blanched then turned scarlet and they were off. He worked up some tears and spilled his whole sordid story. “And now she’s here, and she’s mine, and I don’t care. She’s all I have left of-” he trailed off, imagining shaking Billy Crystal’s hand at the Oscars over this riveting and raw performance.  “She’s a part of me. I can’t lose that.” [butterflies]

Bonus Line:   “ Anyway, ‘Handsome, what the hell do you call that? How are you going to censor a whole building?’[...] This asshole turns to me and goes ‘It’s great, isn’t it? And no one noticed!’” [measuring]

[erin-bo-berin]

Faith (Part 2)

If you haven’t read part 1, called Hope, you can read it here

The final part to Hope is here! This is insanely long, the longest I’ve written yet. Not gonna lie I’m really glad I split it into two parts because all together it would’ve been nearly 13k words. Anyway, in this part you’re gonna get some Spencer POV, daddy Spencer (I might have gotten carried away with the cuteness, I apologize in advance) and some smut. Also I might’ve gotten carried away with that part as well, you’ve been warned. Quick fun fact: The Lonesome Bunny was an actual story I wrote in 5th grade that won in a competition. You’ll see that I’m referring to later on in the fic. Enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 8,407

Rated: M (Smut)

So much can happen in a week. 

Emily had gotten Spencer a great lawyer; one who happened to be a friend of hers. She reassured you that he was in good hands. Even that reassurance did nothing for the constant state of anxiety that twisted your stomach.

The next step was going to be his hearing. Rossi was already ready to post his bail and get him out of jail while he waited for his trial. The whole team had a moment to breathe, thinking that this next step would be a break in luck.

None of them saw what was coming. You, most of all.

After the shocking result of Spencer’s bail being denied, everyone had to face the fact that he was going to be sitting in a prison cell while awaiting trial. Emily and the rest of the team promised to work their hardest to get him out of there. You believed them, of course you did. But no one prepared you for how it would affect not only you, but your daughter as well.

“Daddy bye bye?” 

You ran a hand over her hair, trying to smooth the loose curls before kissing her head.

“Daddy will be back soon.”

You weren’t sure if you were saying the words to comfort Abbie or yourself. Her wails and cries still rang in your ears, the haunting sound breaking your heart a little more each time you remembered them. She was too young to understand what was going on, but it was clear she knew something was wrong. You knew she could sense your stress, your despair.

She laid her head on your shoulder, eyes growing heavy. JJ had just gotten back from taking the boys and Abbie to see Diana. You passed on this initial trip, afraid your emotional state might upset her since she hadn’t any idea what had happened. Even though Diana didn’t understand what was going on in her own ways, you were glad the kids were able to lift her spirits.

Abbie whimpered, fighting sleep, rubbing her fists into her eyes.

“Hey, why don’t I take her and give you a little break?” Penelope said, reaching out to take her. 

“Besides I always love some auntie Penelope time,” she grins, rubbing your shoulder, concern showing on her face. “We’re going to get him out of there okay?”

You nod, giving a small smile. She’d given you a visiting schedule she’d made, listing the order of her, you and the team could visit him. You were up second after her because since she’d made the chart, she got to go first—her words. It gave you a small comfort to know you’d be able to see him soon.

•

“What do you mean I’m not on the approved visitor list?!” you exclaimed.

“Spencer made his list of visitors…” Emily trailed off, “And you weren’t on it.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” she said, clearly feeling as helpless as you currently felt.

“So what does he want me to do? Sit at home, take care of Abbie and twiddle my thumbs?!”

You knew this entire situation was crazy. Spencer was going through a lot, the team was going through a lot, but yet your anger came. The only reason it came was to mask the hurt you felt. It was like a punch to the gut when you realized he didn’t even want to see you. With no reason or explanation why. You could get past the personal hurt even if he just wanted you to visit to talk about Abbie. After all, you were only his co-parent. 

“I wish I knew what to tell you, Y/N. I can’t begin to imagine what’s going through his head right now.”

“I know, I know.” You rubbed your temples, the beginnings of a headache starting to pound behind your eyes.

“I just wish I could do something. At least you guys are able to work on his case to help and free him. I can’t even do that.”

You swallow, tears once again blurring your vision. You’d tried so hard not to cry in front of Abbie but now it was beginning to catch up to you.

“You’re doing something very important, Y/N.” Emily wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you mumbled into her shoulder.

She pulls away from you, holding you at arms length with her hands on your shoulders.

“Taking care of that little girl.” She points in the direction of her office window. You look out into the bullpen and Henry sitting at his mom’s desk with Abbie in his lap, both of them coloring.

“You’re taking the absolute best care of her until we can get Spencer out. I know it puts him at ease to know she isn’t alone.”

“How is he?” you asked, knowing she’d been to see him recently.

“Alright for now, he’s gotten some sleep. He was mainly concerned about Abbie and his mom. He didn’t say it, but I could tell her reaction just about broke him.”

“JJ said she cried herself to sleep,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to scoop your baby up and hold her, to protect her.

“How’s she doing now?”

“Okay, I suppose. She’s been really fussy and clingy ever since it happened, I’m surprised she’s gone to anyone here so well. At home, she won’t even let me out of her sight. She keeps asking about daddy, too.”

“She’s a tough girl. She gets that after both of you.” 

“I wish I felt as strong as you think I am.”

“MA MA!” You heard an excited shriek, all the way from the office.

“Yeah, she’s definitely Reid’s kid,” Emily commented.

You shake your head, exasperated, walking out of the office to head down to the bullpen.

“What baby?” you called, descending down the steps.

She’d gotten down from Henry’s lap and was toddling in your direction, a piece of paper in one hand, a crayon gripped in her other. 

“Ook!” She held out the paper in your direction and you took it, picking her up in the process.

“It’s beautiful, baby girl,” you smile, looking at the scribbles on the page.

“We’re making pictures for Uncle Spencer,” Henry said, looking up from his own picture.

“I told the kids that they could draw pictures and I’d take them to show him when I go to visit him,” JJ said, “I remember you said that she loves to color and I thought I could take hers as well.”

You smiled, “He’ll like that.”

Looking around at all the lengths his team was going to, to help him made you realize just how much of a family the group was. You could feel their love for him, their determination to work their asses off to free him.

Suddenly, it felt like things might actually turn out okay.

•

38 days.

He’d been keeping track of the days with notches in the wall.

He’d been in prison for 38 days. 

In that time Spencer had been jumped by a group of prisoners wanting to attack him since he was fresh meat. He was moved to a private cell. There he encountered even more problems. He was pressured to help move drugs within the prison which he time and time again refused to do. He befriended another prisoner in hopes of keeping him from being attacked only that effort resulted in him being beaten up instead.

The days were long and stretched out. He could feel his sanity slipping a bit more every day. Prison really was a place of desperation. The unthinkable happened inside these four walls. 

He missed the team so much. He missed his mom. He missed his little girl. He missed Y/N.

The last time Emily had been to visit him she’d told him only what he expected; Y/N was bewildered, hurt and angry at his decision. He hadn’t said much on the topic. He did what he had to do.

Today’s visitor was JJ. He hadn’t seen her for a few weeks. Apparently there was a whole schedule for visiting him. He was so happy to finally see a familiar face again. It had seemed like weeks since he’d seen any of his friends when in reality—by his makeshift calendar—it had only been 6 days.

“Hey, how are you?” JJ asked, concern brightening her eyes.

“Okay, I guess. Just trying to survive here,” Spencer said.

Her brows furrowed and he knew what was coming next.

“You’re hurt. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. Why aren’t you working on a case?”

“Actually I stayed behind so I could visit you,” she answered. 

“You shouldn’t have. You should’ve gone.”

“No. I should be here. You’re not alone in this Spence.”

He nodded, watching her through the glass that separated the two of them as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a few papers.

“Henry drew this for you. See that’s you and that’s him. It’s from that day we went to the park.”

“Tell him it’s beautiful,” he could hear his own voice cracking, “Tell him I love it.”

JJ smiled, folding it again.

“I will.”

She opened another picture, showing scribbles, a heart and what appeared to be stick figures.

“Michael drew this one. He said he thought you needed lots of love while you were away on vacation and that he misses you.”

That brought a slight smile to his face. His youngest godson had quite the imagination and at only 3 had thought up that Spencer was away on vacation. His heart ached with how much he missed them. He watched JJ once again reach for another piece of paper.

“Another drawing?” He laughed dryly.

“I thought you might like to see this one too,” she said softly, “Abbie did this one for you.”

There was nothing but colorful scribbles on the page, the complete normal for an 18-month-old. But this was different because it was made by HIS 18-month-old. His little girl.

Of course he believed in his team that they’d get him out of here and catch Mr. Scratch—the asshole that put him here—but it was truly his baby girl that helped him go on. Abbie gave him faith. He had to have faith that he would get out of here and not give up. If he gave up, she might grow up without a father and he knew from firsthand experience that was the last thing he wanted for his child. 

“She’s very artistic.” He tried to laugh, but it came out more of a dry, raspy sound.

“That she is,” JJ smiled.

“How is she?” Spencer whispered.

“Abbie? Or Y/N.”

“You know I mean Abbie.”

“Spence...why don’t you just reconsider your decision. Please?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? She’s worried about you. She wants to see you too.”

“Jennifer. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But Spen-”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it okay?” he snapped.

Her words died mid-sentence and she went quiet.

“I’m sorry JJ,” he ran his hands through his hair, then rubbed his eyes, “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Have you been sleeping?” JJ’s concerned tone reappeared again. 

“Not much.”

“I’m worried about you. We all are. I know this hasn’t been easy on you at all.”

“I can’t even explain it fully, JJ. There’s a sort of helplessness in here that causes people to do things they normally wouldn’t do.”

She seemed to be a loss of words. He didn’t say it to scare her or cause her worry, it was just the truth.

The alarm sounded, signaling that visitation time was up.

“Spencer.”

He looked back at her as he stood to leave.

“Please be careful okay? Keep your head down, don’t attract any unwanted attention.”

He nodded in response. 

The hand of a security guard grabbed his arm, escorting him back to his cell. Every step took him back towards his own personal hell and away from the life he once so naively took advantage of.

•

Things didn't turn out okay. Bad news suddenly became the soup du jour.

Every time Emily or JJ, Rossi or Garcia gave you an update your outlook just became bleaker and bleaker. It was affecting everything in your life. 

You’d cut the number of the interior jobs you normally did in half, not having the motivation nor the time to complete them. Soon you ended up taking a leave of absence. Fortunately, with the past financial aid of Spencer, you could afford to leave work. Your mood was affecting Abbie more and more, her often crying and wanting her daddy. Most days you felt like crying along with her.

You hated being in the dark. Technically you did get updates about what was happening, but you hadn’t seen him in 3 months. That night at the BAU when he was brought home had been the last time you’d been in his presence. Your anger at him for refusing to see you had faded leaving you feeling drained. You could only imagine how the team felt when they were the one trying their hardest to find Mr. Scratch.

In the last month, Spencer had witnessed his friend die, potentially poisoned and killed some drug dealers—you didn’t ask for specifics on that one—been beaten up pretty badly and stabbed himself to get into protective custody. You had no idea how the hell he’d survived all of this, but he had.

Many of your days were spent at the BAU now. When the group wasn’t off working on other cases they were required to give their attention to, you were at Quantico. How different it was spending so much time in the unit in comparison to 3 years ago. Then, you couldn’t stay long enough. Now, all you wanted was to be anywhere else.

You were seated on the couch in Emily’s office, attempting to keep Abbie preoccupied with a few toys. That was about all you could do now was to keep her attention elsewhere before she became irreconcilable once again. 

You were making her favorite bunny plushie kiss her repeatedly causing her to giggle when the door busted open and in ran Penelope.

“Y/N, Y/N! We got him!”

You were so startled by the sudden entrance that you didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Who?”

“Mr. Scratch. He’s been caught and he confessed to everything. Framing Reid and all of it. Me and JJ are heading to the prison to get him. You’re coming with. Not a question, an order.”

You nod, dazed at the amount of information slung at you and picked up Abbie and her bunny, following behind the tech as fast as you could.

Twenty minutes later, you were waiting outside the prison with Garcia while JJ went to take care of all the legal proceedings that came with freeing Spencer.

You were just picking up Abbie’s bunny that she had purposely dropped on the ground when Garcia spoke.

“Hey, Abbie.”

She turned towards Garcia’s voice.

“Look over there sweet girl. Look who it is,” she pointed ahead.

Abbie looked over just in time to see JJ and Spencer coming out of the front doors. The moment she saw him, she was in action, trying to squirm out of your arms. 

You set her down and she went running as fast as her little legs could in his direction, her bunny still in her hand.

“DADDY, DADDY, DADDY!” She shrieked as she ran.

He scooped her up in one swift movement, hugging her close.

“I’ve missed my Abbie-bear.” 

He tapped her nose making her scrunch it in response. 

“How’s my baby girl?” he asked, pushing her hair back from her forehead and kissing her head.

She babbled in response, holding out her bunny to him, clearly happy to be in his arms again. He kissed the bunny’s nose, then Abbie’s. He did it again only this time playfully attacked her with kisses, making her squeal and giggle.

“Hey, you.” Penelope had gone over to hug him tight while you and JJ stood back.

“You know I always knew he would be a great father, but seeing it in action is even more heartwarming. He’s so great with her,” she said.

“He is,” you agreed.

“He cares about her a lot you know. But not only her.” 

JJ gave you a sidelong glance before going to join them, leaving you to puzzle out what her cryptic comment could mean.

•

The aftermath was hectic when you returned to the Bureau. With everyone hugging Spencer and talking to him about the details of Scratch’s capture, you naturally just fell towards the back of the flurry of activity. You noticed the entire time he didn’t let go of Abbie even though she was now sound asleep on his shoulder, her bunny positioned underneath one of her arms and his chest.

You thought you’d heard Rossi say he was going to get some champagne when Spencer finally approached you. Things had never been awkward for the two of you, but they sure felt it now.

“Hey.” 

He leaned against the desktop next to where you sat.

“Hey.”

“She’s out cold,” he motioned to Abbie with his head.

“I noticed. She missed her nap today and has been fighting sleep.”

“Poor thing.” He rubbed her back and she stirred slightly, repositioning herself before going back to sleep.

“So, I was actually wondering,” he began, “Would it be okay if I spent some time with her? I’ve just missed her so much. I feel like she’s gotten so big since I last saw her.”

“Sure. That’s fine. I can get you her diaper bag and some things if you want to keep her for the weekend.”

“Actually I meant like the three of us together. If you want to come to my place or...I just mean I feel like we have some things we need to talk about.”

“Well most of her things are at my place,” you said, purposely ignoring the last part of his comment, “So I guess that would be easier and you can spend as much time as you want with her. You know you’re always welcome to.”

“I’m not sure when or if I’ll be able to come back,” he said quietly, “A lot has happened.”

“Yeah. A lot has.”

You could feel the weight of the last months weighing heavily not just on him, but on you two. Things had worked so smoothly between you both up until this point that you couldn’t help but wonder if this would be too much strain. Some things you just can’t come back from.

Emily noticed the last time she’d visited, just how much prison had changed him. He was suffering from bad PTSS—post-traumatic stress syndrome. He was having nightmares, not sleeping, constantly battling the demons of what he’d had to face in those short months. Emily never said as much, but you knew how close he’d come to death by the hands of the inmates.

Everyone was mentally and emotionally exhausted. They’d all been granted six weeks off work to rest, Spencer especially. He’d have to see a therapist as well and retest before he could even be considered for reinstatement.

“Emily thought it would be best if I wasn’t alone for now.”

“That’d be wise,” you agreed.

 “She suggested I stay with you…” he trailed off nervously.

You were caught off guard and found yourself staring at him, most likely resembling a deer in headlights.

“I mean she just thought being around Abbie would help me a lot and you...”

You had no idea what he was going to say and unfortunately, he didn’t finish his sentence. You couldn’t possibly turn him away at a time like this, even if you desperately didn’t want to have to deal with your complicated feelings about him.

“Uh yeah. That’s fine. She’ll love having you around more.”

The two of you had never shared a living space for more than one night. There was no telling what the next six weeks would bring.

•

The first month was rough. Not only for him but for you as well.

Spencer would often wake in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares, resulting in waking Abbie. He felt so bad about it he’d often force you to go back to bed and sit up with Abbie until she fell asleep again.

One night, you’d been on the way back from the bathroom when you heard the soft rise and fall of his voice. Peeking into the nursery, you saw Spencer in the rocking chair with Abbie in his lap, a book opened in front of them.

When he turned the page, you caught a glimpse of the cover: The Lonesome Bunny, one of Abbie’s favorite books.

“The little bunny was so sad before,” Spencer frowned, pointing to a picture on the page.

Abbie cooed in response, looking up at him as he read.

“But now he was happy, knowing he was loved by all his friends. The end.”

Spencer closed the book and Abbie immediately reached forward and opened it again.

“No.”

“You want me to read it again?” Spencer asked, chuckling when she nodded.

“Princess, I’ve read it to you twice already.”

“No.” Her hands tried to turn the pages back to the beginning.

“Oh, alright. Once more and then it’s time to go back to sleep okay?” He kissed her cheek then turned back to the first page.

“There once was a little bunny, a lonesome little bunny.”

You smiled at the memory, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom as you lay in bed, procrastinating getting up to start your day. It was a luxury you weren’t used to. Having Spencer around had been great because the help with Abbie was nice. He seemed to be getting better too. He still suffered from his demons and the nightmares still happened but not nightly like they once did.

It now had been 5 months since he was released. Things were seeming to finally get better. Spencer was reinstated—with a rule that every 100 days he worked in the field, he had to take 30 days off. He was initially disappointed at the decision, feeling like it wasn’t a full reinstatement. Emily reassured him it was for him to recharge mentally and physically and most importantly to spend time with his family. Now, he’d taken it in stride and loved the extra daddy-daughter time; Abbie was happy as she could be. The only thing that hadn’t changed in the least bit was the tension in your relationship with Spencer.

You got along alright, you just never talked about what had happened. Prison or his downright objection to seeing you was never spoken of. Of cours,e you were there to help him through his trauma, but you avoided any and every conversation having to do with the two of you. If it had to do with Abbie or any other subject, you could talk to him for hours. You just didn’t have the energy to unravel your feelings, nor get his no relationship wanted reply.

Yesterday was the beginning of his first 30 day stint of time off. Spencer being Spencer, he treated you and Abbie to a day at the zoo, anxious to teach her all about the animals. 

“Just wait until she’s old enough to really understand and retain what she’s learning. She’s going to have a vast knowledge of things just because of you,” you’d said, smiling while he helped Abbie feed a giraffe.

He turned towards you, squinting against the sun and smiled big.

“I want only the best for my little girl,” he had responded.

His smile was as bright as the sun, his eyes glinting from the happiness he obviously felt. A light breeze floated through the air, rustling the waves and curls of his hair ever so slightly. Your heart fluttered and it was at that moment you knew you could no longer deny the fact that you were in love with him.

Emily had been telling you the same thing for months, telling you that you had to admit it sooner or later because the moment of truth would hit you eventually. The moment of truth had finally come.

You were in love with the Halloween loving, chopstick hating, kickass profiler, amazing father, 187 IQ’d pretty boy that was Spencer Reid; and you were finally ready to tell him.

•

You glanced at the clock and were surprised to see it was already 9:30. You hadn’t stayed in bed that long since before Abbie had been born.

Noises from the kitchen pulled you out of your bed. You padded down the hallway, smiling when you heard Abbie’s babbling.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

You walk into the kitchen and see Spencer at the stove, Abbie’s high chair pulled up to the cabinet near him.

“Wel,l Abbie-bear here wanted to help daddy fix breakfast. Isn’t that right sweetheart?” 

You look over and see your child sitting in her high chair with chocolate smeared all over her face and hands, grinning big.

“Technically she was supposed to be adding the chocolate chips to the pancake batter, but she decided to eat the handful instead,” he chuckled.

“It’s the thought that counts right?” you laughed, grabbing a baby wipe from the pack on the counter.

You clean her face and hands as best as you can with her trying to squirm away from the wet cloth. 

“You’re silly aren’t you?” you smile, handing her a fresh cup of juice.

“No,” she giggled in response.

“You didn’t have to make breakfast Spencer.”

He shrugged.

“I wanted to. I figure since I kinda live here at the moment I can at least help you out.” 

He added another finished pancake to the growing plate of pancakes then poured the last remaining pancake batter to make a tiny one.

“This one is especially for you Abbie because it’s just your size, see?” 

He stepped aside, letting her see the small pancake on the griddle. She smiled around the spout of her sippy cup as she drank her apple juice.

“Thank you for making breakfast.” 

You stood on your tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek, a simple act of gratitude. At least you hoped that’s what it conveyed. You’d turned to grab a mug for some coffee and when you faced him again you saw he was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious that you were in ratty old pajamas and your hair probably standing up in numerous directions.

The spell seemed to be broken when you spoke. He scrunched his nose in the cute little way he always did, turning back to the stove.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Ten minutes later the three of you were at the table pigging out on pancakes. You tore Abbie’s pancake into smaller pieces and she was currently grabbing them with both hands, managing to get more on her than actually in her.

“Did you always want kids?” Spencer asked, watching you hand her a small piece of your bacon.

“That’s a random question,” you chuckled, picking up your fork again.

He shrugged a shoulder.

“Just curious.”

“Yeah, I always knew I wanted kids one day,” you answered.

“But not at 24, right?”

You winced, thinking of how in shock you were when you found out you were pregnant. You were 23 almost 24 when you’d initially met Spencer. He’d been 34 even though he easily passed for your age. You really understood what it meant that age didn’t matter. He was nearly 11 years older than you, but a majority of the time you didn’t even remember. 

“I mean I don’t blame you. When I was 24, I was only in my second year of working at the BAU. Kids were absolutely the last thing on my mind,” he said.

“It’s not that. I was just scared knowing that from that point on I was responsible for this tiny, fragile little human that would depend on me for the rest of my life. It was even scarier to think just how much she needed me, even during pregnancy. But I wouldn’t change having her for anything. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“She definitely is amazing, isn’t she?”

Abbie reached out towards him, a piece of pancake in her fingers.

“Daddy.”

He leaned towards her and took the bite in his mouth in which she smiled happily.

“Thank you baby girl.”

She started fussing, reaching for him, wanting out of her high chair.

“What about you? Did you never want kids or something?”

He lifted the tray off and unfastened her from the chair, taking her in his lap.

“I didn’t say that,” he said matter of factly, but not in a mean tone, ���I just said at 24 I wasn’t thinking about kids.”

“Okay, so what changed your mind then?” You took another bite of pancake and chewed, waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know. It was different things. Encountering kids at work, being the godfather to Michael and Henry. I always loved kids. I just didn’t think it was going to happen for me because work kept me so busy. Then one day I realized I’m 36 and I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids. Then this little munchkin came about unexpectedly,” he said, tickling her tummy.

“I never knew if it would be a reality for me, but I’ve imagined having a big family before. Big house, lots of kids and toys everywhere, it just seemed nice and completely different from my childhood. I mean it was just me and my parents. Then my dad left and it was my mom and me. I just figured maybe having a big family of my own would fill that loneliness I felt as a kid, you know?”

“That’s sweet,” you smiled, “I understand what you’re saying. Who knows though? Maybe you still will. How many kids are there in your imagined future?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe 5 or 6.”

You almost choked on your coffee.

“You poor future wife,” you sputtered.

“I don’t know, I have a feeling she’ll be the type to be cut out for half a dozen kids.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he feeds another piece to an open-mouthed Abbie. He doesn’t look up to catch your questioning look though.

“These pancakes are amazing by the way.” 

You’d just finished up your third and Abbie was still shoveling hers in.

“I think she agrees.”

“Well thank you,” he grinned.

Spencer hands Abbie to you and you take her, cleaning her face.

“What’s on today’s agenda?” you ask, pulling her hands away from the coffee mug she was trying to grab.

“Actually, JJ is taking Abbie today.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, the boys have missed her and have been begging to see her again. I also think it’s time to finally talk about what we’ve been tiptoeing around for months, Y/N.”

You felt yourself stiffen. Sure, you may have just decided the day before that you wanted to finally confess your feelings to him, but you didn’t want to have to deal with all the other things. Unfortunately for you, it went hand in hand and you knew he was right.

“Y/N, please. I know you’re still upset about things that happened when I was in prison. But you do know we need to talk about them eventually.”

“I know,” you whispered; the buried feelings from those horrible months coming to the surface again.

“Let’s go get her dressed. JJ should be here by 10.” 

Spencer took her from you, setting her down on her feet.

“How about a race, pumpkin? I’ll race you to your room.”

Abbie shrieked, taking off on her little legs, Spencer behind her, pretending to be way behind.

“She’s off to a wonderful start, look at that form as she runs!” Spencer’s voice came from the hall as if he were narrating an actual race, “Oh no, she’s beating me! She’s rounding the corner! She’s at the last stretch of the mile! IT’S OFFICIAL! Abrielle Jade Reid is the winner!”

You hear squealing and her giggles ascend in what you assume is caused by Spencer picking her up.

You stare at the place where he was sitting minutes before, remembering something Emily had told you days earlier.

“Abbie may be almost 2, but she has faith in you and Spencer every single day. She may not know what it is, but as her parents, she quite literally trusts you with her life. So why can’t you have that kind of faith in Spencer?”

•

An hour later it’s just you and Spencer left in the house. You weren’t proud to say that you had hidden out in your bedroom while he was assisting JJ with Abbie’s car seat outside, your attempt at prolonging the start of the conversation.

You heard the front door close and his footsteps getting closer to your room. You sat your phone aside when he walked in and sat up against the pillows.

“I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen. Okay?”

It wasn’t often that you heard Spencer sound so stern, the steely tone of his voice unfamiliar. But you currently felt like a student in the principal’s office about to face punishment. He didn’t wait for you to answer before he continued.

“I’m going to tell you about what happened to me in prison.” His voice was gentler now, but you saw by his face that he was serious.

“Spencer-”

His hard look silenced you.

“I want to do this. I can’t tell you why I chose not to see you until I tell you this.”

So he told you.

And you listened.

He told you about the fear he constantly lived with of being discovered as a fed, while in prison. He told you how he tried to help another inmate that was being targeted which only ended up in himself being beaten up and later, the same friend being murdered in front of him. How an inmate he mistook as a friend was actually the most dangerous prisoner there; he controlled everything and everyone and tried his hardest to control Spencer too. How his mind seemed to adapt to the line of thinking of the others. It was either do what you have to do or get killed. He explained that he did something terrible, something that he would’ve never imagined he’d ever do but was forced to do it to spare his own life. He confessed how much it scared him, that prison had turned him into a monster. He told you how painful it was reliving the events as he worked to heal in therapy. He indeed told you everything.

It hurt like hell hearing every detail, each of his words etched with pain and bad memories. He didn’t continue for a few quiet minutes after he finished recounting everything. His eyes were closed, as if trying to erase the pain of the old wounds freshly opened. You reached out towards him, putting your hand on top of his. When he opened his eyes, he looked down at your hand over his.

Without a word, he turned his hand in yours until your fingers laced through his perfectly.

“The team is used to seeing things like this. Even though it was me in there, one of their own, they knew to expect the worst. They see bad things every day. But I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t let you see me like that. It would have completely broken you.”

He paused, swallowing hard before continuing.

“My job is to see horrible things and look how prison impacted me. How do you think I’d feel knowing I was responsible for putting you through so much pain? It was never about not wanting to see you. It was about protecting you, about keeping you oblivious to the true horrors of what it’s like in there. I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it. All I wanted to do was protect you and Abbie.”

You didn’t know exactly when you’d began crying, but now you felt the tears streaming quickly down your face. Months of pent up emotions came pouring out of you all at once.

“All I wanted to do was to see you! I wasn’t able to do anything to help you and then I’m told I couldn’t even see you? I had never felt so helpless.”

“Please don’t cry.”

He moved to where he could sit closer to you, concern etching his features. Pulling his hand out of yours, he put a hand on your face, wiping your tears.

“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please believe me.”

“I know. I believe you.”

Your faces were mere inches apart by now and his eyes searched your face, repeatedly glancing down at your lips. All it would take was a hair of movement and your lips would be connected. You felt the tempting pull, wanting to kiss him badly, yet you stayed still, the moment seeming to stretch on.

“We can’t,” you whispered.

He was so close, you felt the breath of his words against your lips.

“Why not?”

He made the final move and kissed you. You didn’t fight it anymore. It was like having a drink of water after suffering from an agonizing thirst. His lips felt familiar, they were familiar but it’d been an awfully long time since you felt them against yours.

Your lips moved with his, parting every few kisses before reconnecting them to his. It was slow, sensual and full of love. All of your love for him was poured into the kiss, but you knew that was just your take on it. For you, this right now felt like coming home.

He inched you backwards until you were pressed up against your pillows once again with him hovering over you, his mouth not leaving yours once.

“I swear I didn’t intend to start something like this,” he murmured against your lips, between kisses.

“Not,” you paused as he kissed you again, “Complaining.”

Your hands moved over his chest and up his shoulders until your arms were wrapped around his neck. He was intoxicating and you were taking in as much of him as you could before this ended once again.

He pushed your pillows off the bed towards the floor, laying you flat against the bed. Though every time you’d been together hadn’t been fast and rough, you’d never taken it this slow with him before. The slow, intense kiss came to a standstill when he gently raked his teeth over your bottom lip before pulling away from you.

With his hands on your hips, he pushed them upwards, taking the bottom of your shirt up as well.

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist, looking up at him.

“A-Are you sure you want to?” you asked hesitantly, not entirely confident his head was in the right place for something like this.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I’m positive.”

You raised your arms as he pulled the shirt over your head.

“Besides,” he paused to unbutton his shirt, “I want to take my time with you.”

You bit your lip, his words sending a warm flush all throughout your body. You helped him remove his shirt and pants at the same time because suddenly all you wanted was to feel his body against yours. After a lackadaisical kiss he began his descent downwards. 

His lips moved down your chest with soft kisses, a trail of them placed just above the cups of your bra. He reached behind you to unfasten it, slowly pulling each strap down your shoulder, his mouth following closely behind his hands.

He kissed each shoulder, your collar bones and breasts, his tongue softly flicking over both nipples in turn. You gasped, feeling goosebumps prickle your arms. His sloth like pace was both thrilling and agonizing at the same time. 

More followed down your belly, his fingers gently brushing the few stubborn stretch marks pregnancy had left behind. He paused briefly at your hip, sucking on it then running his tongue over the small bruise he’d created there.

“Mmm,” you hummed as he pushed your legs apart gently, clearly anticipating his next move.

Surprising you, he didn’t do what you thought he would. His lips brushed the top of your underwear, half on your skin, half on the fabric.

“Spence,” you moaned softly wanting more than what he was giving.

“I love it when you call me that,” he said, voice thick with desire. 

He licked his lips, looking up at you, eyes locked on yours as he pulled the silky item off you, hands trailing down your thighs, then back up. His gaze lingered on yours a beat longer, the intensity of it taking your breath away. You were the absolute center of his attention and he was relishing every bit of you. He was known to drive you crazy, but this was on a whole new level. There was something more intimate, more sensual about this that made you feel even more vulnerable in his presence.

His kisses traveled your thighs next, moving dangerously close to the area you were wanting him most. Just when you thought his next movement would be his mouth on your core, he would move in the opposite direction, much to your dismay. 

Back again he went, mouth moving in the right direction and-

“Oh my god,” you moaned, not even able to finish your previous thought.

The sly devil had distracted you just enough so that you weren’t expecting when his finger slid inside you, rubbing against you deliciously. If you thought that was mind-blowing enough, you almost lost your shit when his tongue met your clit before sucking gently.

You weren’t entirely sure if it was because it had been a long, long time since you’d had any sexual escapades or if it was just Spencer in general, but all coherent thought left your mind the longer he worked you.

Your hand grips his hair, your breath coming in rapid pants signaling your oncoming release.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Spencer!” you half gasped, half moaned as your climax hit you, robbing you of your breath for a few seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, he was hovering over you, a small smirk on his face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chuckled.

He hummed, “I’m not done yet sweetheart.”

Sometime during your current shared kiss, his boxers were removed and he pushed into you. He moaned into your mouth, his tongue twirling with yours. 

His tantalizing movements made you able to feel every bit of him as he moved in and out of you repeatedly. Your earlier wish was granted as now your bodies were pressed against one another, moving as one.

“Feels incr-” he groaned mid-sentence.

“Incredible,” he breathed.

You couldn’t argue that. Somehow all the other times didn’t hold a candle to right now. 

Your hands gripped his biceps, giving in and begging him to pick up his pace. His hands hooked behind your thighs pulling you closer at the exact moment as a thrust of his hips causing you both to moan. His forehead fell against yours as your hips rocked to the new rhythm.

“You okay?” he whispered, watching you.

“God, yes,” you half laughed, half moaned.

His hands hadn’t stayed still the entire time, moving from one place to another, his touch gentle as if he were touching fine china. Whether they were stroking your hips, splayed across your stomach or resting on the side of your neck as he kissed you deeply your whole body automatically responded to his touch without you realizing it. 

Fire filled your veins and your body easily arched into his, more than ready to let that fire consume your senses. Your body inadvertently clenched around him and a growl came from deep within his throat, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

You’d often seen his face of concentration, the creased brow and the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. That was the same expression he wore now, determined to shatter you for a second time. You couldn’t even begin to process how the hell it was adorable and sexy at the same time. 

The two of your movements become more hurried and erratic, the air hot with pants and moans. His fingers dig into your sides as his orgasm hit him.

“Oh god I love you,” Spencer moans into your neck as he succumbs to his high, your name falling from his lips.

Your breathing is suddenly heavier and not solely because of your own building climax, but because of his words. You don’t have a moment nor a clear head to think about what was just said as you’re a whimpering and writhing mess underneath him, the heavy knot in your stomach coiling tighter and tighter. You feel yourself coming apart at the seams, as if all your nerve endings are ready to burst into oblivion.

Spencer knows you well because within a short time of his own release he sends you falling into an abyss of ecstasy, caressing you and kissing you anywhere and everywhere he can, the entire time. You’re pretty sure it takes you a few minutes to breathe properly again.

Afterwards, he gently nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn to face him, kissing him softly once again. You can’t possibly wrap your head around what had just happened. It wasn’t normal sex like you used to have with him. This was tender, passionate, but hot. Probably the hottest you’d had. Then you remembered what he’d said.

Was it sincere or was it just in the heat of the moment?

•

Both of you lay quietly for a while; so long you’re almost sure that Spencer fell asleep.

“I have to tell you something,” you finally said, halfway hoping he was already asleep.

“Hmm?” he asked, looking over at you. 

“Before I tell you, I just want you to know that I appreciate what you did for me and Abbie even though I didn’t show it at the time. I’m grateful that you told me all you did earlier and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I don’t know what I’d have done if-”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he chuckled, aware he’s guilty of the same thing at times too.

“Right. Well, I wanted to tell you I love you. Actually, I’m in love with you. I had to tell you because I just realized that I can’t deny it anymore and even though you probably don’t feel the same way, you deserve to know.”

He’d been watching you intently the entire time you’d been speaking. He licked his lips before responding.

“I meant it, you know.”

You looked over as he rolled over on his side and rested his head in his hand. You were confused as that wasn’t the immediate reaction you’d expected.

“Meant what?”

“That I love you. I saw your face when I said it.”

“My face?”

“Y/N, I’m not a profiler for nothing. You were freaking out because I said it.”

“Yes, but not for the reason you think.”

“Then why?” he asked.

“I didn’t know if you actually meant it or if it was just you know, the sex making you talk.”

“Well, I did mean it. I’ve been in love with you for a while, you know.”

You laugh incredulously, unable to believe that all this time he’d actually felt the same way as you.

“You have? Since when?”

“I’m not sure when exactly. It just kinda hit me one day that you were the one person I couldn’t get off my mind, the one who knows me better than most. I just didn’t know how or if to say it. It kind of slipped out accidentally earlier.”

“I just assumed it was because of the sex,” you chuckled.

“Oh believe me, the sex will definitely make me say it as well. Repeatedly.”

His lips twisted into a smirk as his hand glides over your stomach, pulling you close for a kiss.

“I love you.” He paused for a kiss.

“I love you,” Another kiss followed.

“I love you.” A third.

He retreated, laying back next to you.

“I can’t thank you for all that you’ve done for me these last few months. I wouldn’t have been able to get better without you by my side.”

You smiled, happy to see some of the old Spencer you knew and loved peeking through once again. Prison may have changed him, but he was still Spencer in all the ways that mattered.

“So what does this mean for us then?” you asked, watching his fingers glide lazily over your skin.

“I mean we’ve sort of been a couple for nearly 2 years now, so now it’s just us finally being smart and admitting it,” he smiled, “But if you want me to be official, I want you to be mine. My only girl. Well, besides Abbie. Can’t forget her.”

“No, definitely can’t forget her.”

“I want to be a family. If that’s okay with you, that is.” He added the last part hesitantly.

You put your hand over his, stopping his motions then twining your fingers with his.

“That’s more than okay with me,” you smiled up at him.

Maybe good things had come from all the bad.

You lay in a comfortable silence after that, simply enjoying each other’s company. It was Spencer who spoke next.

“You know what got me through the long days in prison?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No, what?”

“I thought about Abbie a lot of course. I had faith I would see her again. Also, I had faith in the BAU, I knew the team would do their jobs and work their asses off to get me out of there. But that’s not all.”

“At the end of the day, after all my misfortune, I knew faith would lead me back to my family.”

Tags: @wefracturedmotivation @rt8815 @pastanest

[foolishlovebugbaby]

ten-thousand miles gone

prologue

summary: they say time heals all wounds, but the one left by han jisung on your heart is one that you still treat tenderly. alternatively; han jisung reappears into your life like a whirlwind, knocking you off of your feet, after leaving you without a goodbye.

genre: angst

warnings: nothing triggering or rated

word count: 6k

note: in my head, the mind map of the way this particular fic ended went in so many directions, but this was very draining to write so i settled on the one that wouldn’t leave you hanging. 

been travelling these wide roads for so long my heart’s been far from you ten-thousand miles gone

In your younger years, life had always seemed to move gradually. Time seemed to be muffled by all the firsts and seconds that came and went like waves, distracting everyone from the reality of growing pains. But college certainly ripped off that bandaid, a cushion no longer supporting your fall into the harsh realities of life. 

Second semester of sophomore year had just ended, so now every college student across the country was making a beeline for the airports and bus stations, with tickets home clasped tightly between hands that were potentially developing carpal tunnel syndrome. Luckily for you, home was two train rides and a taxicab away. But like all your independent adventures of navigating life unhinged, no journey would be complete without twenty-something voicemails from your mother telling you to padlock your luggage and some vague, superstitious advice she read on Facebook. 

[To ma: yes, i didnt forget to pack your scarf and no, im not going to drink ginger and ginseng to ward off bad train spirits.]

[From ma: thank you. suit yourself , you will be bad spirit magnet !]

You chuckle and shove your phone into your pocket, hailing a cab with one hand while the other slings an abnormally large duffle bag over your shoulder. “North-Hill train station please.” You say to the cab driver and shove your luggage into the seat next to you. 

You let out a tired sigh and slump into the pleather seats. Butterflies swarmed your stomach- you always seemed to get them whenever you went back home. Back to the place of some of your greatest and worst memories. Somehow, through the years, the fear of seeing him again in that godforsaken town died down, because the thought of ever being able to see him again at all proved itself to be almost impossible. 

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got…

You almost choke on your spit when that song comes on the radio. Of course that song had to come on so conveniently in the middle of your trip down melancholy lane. You have half a mind to reach over and turn the radio off, but decide against it when you see the cute old man bobbing his head to it. 

So instead your mind traces its steps back a few moments until all you’re reminded of is him. 

In your head you remember all these great experiences- graduation day, senior prom, camp nights during wintertime and summer carnivals down at the boardwalk. But then your mind tortures you and conjures up these images of what it would’ve been like to have experienced it all with him next to you and suddenly the memories become less fond. It’s treacherous, really, being your own worst enemy. But you learnt the hard way that time slows down for no one. 

When you get to the train station, you move in a daze. The muscle memory of validating your ticket and walking to the platform does all the work for you. And usually that would be a good thing, except now it only allowed you to stay in your head a lot more. It’s funny, really, how everytime you see posters and billboards of his group around you don’t flinch. Not anymore at least. Because you don’t know him anymore, and he’s probably forgotten about you.

Sometimes, you’re convinced he was just a character that your very active imagination conjured up to fill gaps in your life with meaning. But every time you open a picture of the pair of you way back when, you’re met with the reality that he was real. Even if it was just for a short amount of time, he was visible to you. Tangible. And meant galaxies to you. 

[From mama han: cant wait 2 see u back again ! have dinner with us soon xoxo] 

You smile fondly down at your phone once you’re situated in your seat, typing out a reply to the woman you consider a second mom. 

You thanked the universe for still keeping her in your life. Sure, her son would probably be known to you as the biggest jackass to exist for eternity, but she would remain sweet and tender in your heart for longer than that. 

[To mama han: can’t wait to see you too:)]

You don’t confirm your spot at their dinner table, because frankly speaking, the last time you stepped foot in their house was the summer before university when you went to drop off a box of jisung’s things that you found in your room- sweatshirts, t-shirt’s, notes and other miscellaneous items that demanded you remember every miniscule moment spent with him. And since then you’ve found every excuse not to go near that place. You knew it probably hurt the woman whenever you conjured up some arbitrary excuse to not dig in to her incredible cooking, but the finger is to be pointed at Han Jisung and Han Jisung only. Screw him. 

She sometimes tries to address the elephant in the room whenever you do get to talk during her visits at your childhood home. Like It would be great to have you both visit at the same time or Would you like me to call him? I’m sure he’s not busy right now. Yeah, subtle as a gun, but you love her still. 

You’re not one to believe in luck, and if you did you’d actually quite fancy yourself as the most unluckiest person of them all, but you thank the heavens that he’s never been back home the same time as you have. Either that, or you’re just way too good at being further than a 10-mile radius from him. Like last semester break, when you got word from one of your childhood friends that he would be in town so you decided to cancel all your plans of going back home under the guise of going on a group excursion somewhere up north. Obviously, all you did was stay in your dorm and binge watch Gossip Girl for three weeks, but you concluded that anything would be better than having to confront your demons- or demon. Singular.

What would you even say if you saw him? Realistically, not that much. Ideally, you’d destroy him with words. All that pent up anger for him leaving you behind and all the unresolved feelings left to concentrate in an urn you buried deep in yourself exploding like Pandora's box right before him. 5 years passed, and yet you still found it difficult to imagine what a conversation would be like with him again. 

Honestly, you’d tell him to stay a while longer, just so that he’d remain vivid in your memories once he decided to leave again. 

When the taxi cab pulled up in front of your childhood home, you were half asleep and in desperate need of a solid meal. “Thanks, keep the change,” you say groggily as you pass the money to the driver. 

You take a deep breath once you’re out of the car, your duffle bag slung around your frame. It’s been a very long time since you were last here. The months seemed to pile up without you noticing, and now that you think about it, it had been a good whole year that passed. You don’t know where the time went, but you were definitely here now. 

You trudge up to the door, ringing the bell once. “Hey ma,” You say as she squeals and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re back in one piece, especially since you ignored my advice.” She says pointedly and ushers you in. “Yeah, well, I guess the train spirits didn’t feel like victimising me today.” She looks at you with her mouth hung open and slaps your arm. 

“Don’t say that!” She’s about to scold you more when your dad enters the living room in his pajama pants. “My daughter finally decides to show her face around here! Send in the doves!” You always knew that you got your flare for drama from your dad. 

“How are you doing sweetie, we missed you.” He gives you a big bear hug and you sigh. “I know, it’s been too long.” 

“There is not enough time in this world to mope around! Now, darling, it’s very late so your father and I are off to bed. There’s some leftovers for you in the toaster oven in case you get hungry,” They both smother you in a hug and you almost suffocate. “We’d love to hear all about your university in the morning. Sleep tight honey.” 

And so you’re left to your own devices. Again. Sighing, you reluctantly head up the stairs and make your way into your old room. A smile finds its place on your lips.

The room is oddly clean- you figured your mother must have emotionally cleaned in here (more than once) during your time away from home. But the walls are still the same ugly navy blue, and your star-print curtains remained planted in front of your windows with planet decorations all over the ceiling to match. Funny. He helped you decorate. Said it made your room feel like the universe was just the two of you.

You didn’t know that what he really meant was that you were his safe place.

You spend a good thirty-minutes unpacking, tinkering around your old room and texting your friends about your trip home. It feels like an eternity passed when you finally decide to listen to your growling stomach and go get something to eat. But you’re picky and nothing in your kitchen seems to entice you enough to devour it, so you swipe your house keys off the kitchen countertop and head to your door. 7-Eleven it is. You’re dressed in a pair of leggings and a pink sweater with fluffy slides to match, but you could care less.

As you walk out of your driveway and head down your street, you pass by his house. The lights are off (of course, since it’s an ungodly 1AM) and it practically looked like a dollhouse. 

You turn your gaze away. 

The walk to the local 7-Eleven is only 5 Hozier tracks away, so you reach there in no time. Your tummy growls when you enter, and you immediately head to the instant section. Hmm, ramen, tteokbokki or pasta, choices choices choices…

You’re too busy pondering to notice the figure clad in sweats and a baseball cap standing frozen at the end of the aisle, gaping like a fish your way. He practically isn’t breathing, but your presence had knocked the wind right out of his chest. 

“Y-Y/n?” He manages to breathe out, and you look around, confused. Did someone just say my name?

Your eyes slowly turn to his figure, and you can barely see who it is from afar. Tan skin can be seen from the collar under his hoodie, and dirty-blonde hair peeks out at the ends of his baseball cap. You feel like you’re seeing things, because you know that baseball cap. You bought it. 

Slowly, your eyes trail over his face, and you feel the air leave your lungs.

Jisung still remembers the last time he saw you. Well, the last time he saw you before he didn’t say goodbye. 

It was a Thursday afternoon, History class had just ended. On the way out, he caught a glimpse of you. He hadn’t seen much of you the entire week, but that was because he was actively trying to avoid you. But there you were, at your locker putting away your books with that puppy-dog expression you always wore whenever you were tired and in need of a good nap. He stood for a few moments, taking you in. Even if your hair was messily up in a bun with a hoodie two sizes too big drowning your frame, he still thought you looked like an absolute dream. He wanted to go up to you and ask you how was calculus? And when you pout and say boring, he would suggest you come over for some hot chocolate and a movie. And you would say yes, with a sleepy, lopsided smile, and his body would feel all warm and fuzzy at the sight of you.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he leaves his heart by the lockers, and with one last look, he walks away. His jacket does nothing to warm the cold that creeps its way up.

Had he known he wouldn’t get to see you one last time after that, he would’ve watched you for a few seconds longer. Had he known that you would fall sick and stay home from school the day before his flight, he would have told you to take better care of yourself. And had he known that the last time he’d see you would be when you’re drained and tired and down, he would have gone up to you to make you smile, one last time. 

He never stopped recreating pictures of you in his head, fearing the outlines of you would fade. 

Except now, as you stand a mere six feet away, he feels as though you stepped out of his mind and into his world once again. He can see you. You’re there. 

None of the pictures of you that he drew up in his head would ever compare to the way you looked right then. Beautiful, just as he remembered you.

Your name feels like a foreign language when it leaves his lips. 

The air is so thick between the pair of you that it makes everything around him slow down. He sees your eyes move from confusion, to shock, to utter fear and bewilderment, and then to pain. It feels as though a knife impaled his heart when he sees your eyes quiver.

He always loved your eyes. Dark brown, like freshly turned over earth, warmed by the sun. They look at him with sorrow now. 

Your arms drop to your sides and your lips quake, “J-Jisung?” God, he forgot what it was like to hear his name in your voice. He hates that it’s said with so much heartache. 

You run out without thinking twice. 

“Stop, slow down! W-wait!” You hear his voice call out for you, but you continue to run- where? You don’t know. You just wanted to get away. Your feet take you far down the sidewalk, lamp-posts your only source of light at this time of night. 

But you’re not fast enough, and for the first time in a long time, you feel his grip on your arm.

“Let go of me,” You say, your voice already breaking. He breaks with it.

“Y/N listen-” He pants out.

“No, let go of me!” You snatch your arm away from his grip. God, you’re furious. And hurt. And every other emotion there is to feel when you see the person who left you with nothing.

Your raised voice startles the two of you, and you both stand there for a moment, breathless. From running, from shock. 

He doesn’t say anything and just gapes at you, “Well?” You provoke pointedly. “What? Cat got your tongue?” 

“No ‘Hey y/n! How’ve you been? Long time no see since, you know, I abandoned you’.” You say harshly and the knife in his heart twists. 

“I know you’re hurt-” You cut him off.

“Hurt? Hurt? Hurt doesn’t even come close to what I feel, Jisung.” All the words you want to spew get caught in the back of your throat and you fight yourself to keep it together because you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to catch you vulnerable and raw, because you don’t know if you can trust him with that part of you again.

“Can we please just- can we please just talk?” He begs, and you scoff. “Please?” His eyes plead with you, and you frustratedly run a hand through your hair. 

“So talk.��� You cross your arms over your chest and look at anywhere but him. He doesn’t say anything, and each time he tries to, all he does is end up biting his tongue. Where does he even begin?

“I’m sorry,” He croaks out, even though it’s the worst thing to say. 

“Great. All is forgiven.” You’re ruthless, but that’s only because he didn’t show any mercy when he left. 

He searches your eyes, not knowing what he could say to make things right. Or if that was even a possibility anymore. You both stand in silence for a while, and slowly your resolve breaks away.

“Why?” You say, your voice coarse and exhausted. “Why’d you do it? I tortured myself for months- no, years asking myself what I did wrong that caused you to leave me like that. What- was it something I said? Something I did? Please- tell me, I’m begging you,” You’re full-on sobbing now, tears flowing down your face like waves. They twinkle in the warm streetlights and he feels the ground beneath him crumble. The wound he left on your heart was ripped open again, and you couldn’t help but bleed in front of him. “P-please, Jisung. It’s been killing me for so long.” 

Tears leave his eyes, “It wasn’t your fault,” He says softly. 

“Then what was it? Because for all this time I broke myself down, questioning why you left like that. For so long I thought you were mad at me- I thought you became tired of me, bored of having me around. Do you know what that’s like? Tearing yourself apart to find answers you know you can’t answer by yourself?” “Shit, I thought you didn’t need me anymore. Which sucked, because I needed you.” You whisper through ragged breaths and he takes careful steps closer to you. 

“Of course I still needed you- I haven’t stopped needing you, y/n.” His voice is as broken as yours.

“Then why?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you struggle so hard to not fall to the ground. 

“Do you know what it felt like to wake up one morning, clueless and thinking everything was fine, and then finding out that it was, in fact, not? Do you know what it was like to find out the person you cared for the most up and left you alone and with no explanation- not even a single goodbye? To be desperate to hear his voice again, and wonder to yourself why it was so easy for him to cut you off like that?” He stood right in front of you, so close that he could touch you. 

“I searched for you. I still looked for you in the hallways at school, hoping it was just one of your stupid pranks. I waited in my room for you to climb up to my window again and whisk me away to the park for one of our late-night walks. I called your phone for days, just in case you’d finally get annoyed and pick up. You never did. You never did,” You didn’t notice that your face was in his hands and that he tried so desperately to wipe your tears away, his own streaming down his face.

He sucked in a breath, “I left like that because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get on that plane with you watching. That I would drop everything, all my stupid dreams, to stay in this stupid town for god knows how long with you. Leaving you was the most painful part,” 

“That day I found out I passed the audition- do you remember? You were so happy for me, more happy than I was. The only thing on my mind was the fact that I had to leave everything behind to chase after this dream- to chase after a dream that came true because of you. I wasn’t sure anymore. But you were so sure of me, so ready to see me attain everything we talked about, that the thought of all of that being in vain because of my cowardice ate me up inside. I thought that maybe if I could keep you at a distance- make you mad at me for ignoring you, have you hate me- that it would make it a little easier to let you go of me,” Your lips quiver.

“It wasn’t easy-”

“I know, I know that.” He rests his forehead against yours and squeezes his eyes shut as he hears your soft sobs. “It was so that I wouldn’t have a memory of leaving you behind in an airport. I wasn’t ready to have that image in my mind haunt me. I’ve regretted it everyday. You have to believe me when I say that.” 

“Then why didn’t you call back? Or even send a message?” Your eyes search his for answers as you pull your forehead away from his to get a clearer look.

“I thought you hated me. That you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” 

“Bullshit. You thought wrong.” Angrily, you push at his chest with closed fists and shut eyes, “You thought wrong,” You push him away until you’re no longer in his grip. “Let me go,” You whimper when he tries to reach for you again. “That doesn’t justify why you left me like that. I felt like I meant nothing to you for so long. You threw me away like I didn’t mean anything- made me feel like I was insignificant.”

“You meant everything to me!” He shouts out, shocking you into silence. “Don’t you see it?” When you only stare at him in confusion, he sucks in a breath. 

“The mere thought of leaving you was enough for me to think twice. Sitting with you in French class and giggling because we didn’t understand a word, spending so many nights with you in your ridiculous dinosaur onesie, getting to walk around aimlessly until 4am in this godforsaken town as if time wasn’t fleeting- I-,” He runs a hand over his face, frustratedly wiping his tears away. “I wasn’t ready for it to be over. I didn’t want to miss graduation, the day we looked forward to since grade school. I didn’t want to facetime you on prom night while you look so goddamn beautiful, knowing that someone else would be getting to slow dance with you. Knowing that I wouldn’t be there, that I would be missing out- that I would be missing you every goddamn day made me realise I wouldn’t be able to last without you.” 

“Selfishly ripping you apart from me felt like the only option. And it was so cruel, I know that. I’m the selfish asshole,” He takes exactly five steps to stand in front of you, and places a hand tenderly on your cheek. 

“I was selfish because I knew I couldn’t have you. I was in love with you, y/n. So fucking in love and you didn’t even know. And after all this time, I still am.” He says that last sentence in a whisper, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.

His mouth is so warm against yours, so tender, and yet they set your skin on fire. 

You pull away and take two steps back. 

“Y-you don’t get to kiss m-me like that, not again,” You say breathless. You’re reminded of sophomore year, and the kiss in his living room that made you feel weightless and lightheaded.

“Y/n-”

“I think we’ve talked enough for tonight,” Your heart hammers in your chest and the blood rushes to your face so fast that you swear you’re shivering. His eyes are illuminated by the streetlamps and you see them break right before you, defeated. Yours are no different. 

You walk away, choking back sobs.

He doesn’t try to stop you.

It’s 4PM when you decide to get out of bed. 

Your eyes are practically closed shut from your lack of sleep and you don’t bother to brush your hair, or undrape the blanket around your shoulders when you head downstairs. Your parents are sitting in the living room, oblivious and unassuming, but when they see you they almost go into cardiac arrest. 

“What’s wrong?” Your mother asks tentatively, extremely unsure as to why her daughter looked so abnormally disheveled. “Did you know he was going to be back in town?” You croak out, and she sighs. 

“So you saw him.” She states, and your dad pretends to read the newspaper. 

“Why didn’t you tell me ma, you know what happened-”

“Exactly; everyone knows what happened, and everyone knows how ruined you’ve both been because of it. But nothing’s going to change if you keep sweeping it under the rug. Honey, I know you’re hurting,” She rests a hand on your cheek and you close your eyes at the feeling. “But this is your chance to get closure.”

“What if I don’t want it anymore?”

“Oh that’s a load of cow dung. Look at you; you’re a mess.” Gee, thanks mom. 

She bites her lip and pauses for a second, “What if I told you that during your first year in college, the very first semester you were away, he came back? It was the autumn before things took off for him, and he showed up in town looking for you everywhere, not knowing you had left. I felt so bad, but you’re my daughter, and my first instinct was to protect you because I knew that for the first time in a long time, you were enjoying yourself. So I didn’t give him your new number, said your phone was broken, and he was absolutely heartbroken. I regret it slightly, but maybe this time you both can stop being constantly out of step.” 

Your mouth hung agape and your head spun. He looked for me?

“Don’t leave things like this, you need each other.” She gives you a squeeze, and you sigh. 

She was right. Years passed with so many things left unsaid, so much time gone. And as much as you hated to admit it, you were never going to get that time back. It would kill you knowing that you didn’t take the chance to fix things. You were already broken down to your bones, what’s left to chip away?

You uncoil yourself from your blanket and fling it onto the couch, groaning when you realise you’re going to have to face him again. The events that had elapsed last night were still hard to wrap your mind around, and you found yourself wondering if it ever did happen. You could already feel your heart pound at the thought of it. His words float in your mind ceaselessly; so much so that when you step out of your house, you almost miss the slumped figure on your sidewalk.

He gets up at the sound of your door closing. 

His hair was messy, pointing every which way, and the same clothes from earlier were now wrinkled and crimped. His eyes devastated you. They looked worn down and exhausted, much like yours did. 

“Walk with me?” He breathes out, and you nod. 

Seeing him in daylight is different. As you two walk, you become increasingly aware of exactly how much he’s grown. He used to be only a few centimeters taller than you, but now you only reach his chin. Barely. But his skin is the same golden tan and his cheeks remained full. You’re close enough that you can smell his scent- a scent you didn’t know you missed until now. But in retrospect, you just missed him. 

You both reach the small park in the middle of your neighborhood, and you find yourselves under the big oak tree that he had deemed our spot all those years ago. You look up into his eyes, and for a moment you remember what it’s like to feel home again.

“Do you remember the first time we found this place? You were always so terrible at hide and seek.” 

You find yourself smiling at the memory. He hid from you, behind this very tree, for so long that it had felt like you spent hours searching for him. When you finally did find him, you were angry and upset with him with red cheeks to match. 

“That’s only because you were always so good at hiding from me,” There’s ambiguity that you didn’t intend in that statement, which brings you both back to silence. 

After a while, you gather the courage to speak again. “So about that kiss-” He winces and scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for catching you off-guard like that last night-”

“I’m talking about the one on your birthday, sophomore year.” His lips squeeze into a tight line and his round eyes stare at you dumbfoundedly. 

“I-I always thought you never remembered that. You never brought it up, so I thought that it was just a mistake.” You fiddle with your fingers and gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling the heat creep to the back of your neck. 

“Y/n, it was never a mistake. I wanted to kiss you- and I did- because I was sick of being confused about my feelings for you.” You look back up at him, “I didn’t bring it up because I was too scared of scaring you away with it all.”

“Well you should’ve, so that I wouldn’t be so confused either.” His expression changes, and you didn’t think it was possible, but it becomes even more defeated than it was a few moments ago. He rubs his face with his face with his hands, leaning against the tree. 

He’s about to speak again, but your lips reach his before he gets the chance.

His soft cheeks rest in your hands as you taste him, soaking in the feeling of his warm lips against yours. This time, for the first time, the kiss lasts longer than a few seconds. 

The sensation sends shivers up your arms and down your spine. When he kisses you back, he kisses you with so much fervour that you’re worried you’ll pass out at the feeling. But his arms grip you tightly around your waist to keep you there, with him, firmly in place. Your mind is fuzzy and your heart beats erratically in your chest when he squeezes your waist. Craving him like this is new to you, and yet you can’t help but yearn for more. 

Where words failed you before, you make up for it in slow dances across his lips. 

“It was worth it, right?” Your question comes as a surprise to him. 

Earlier, when the sun had begun to set, the two of you decided that public parks were not exactly the most ideal place to have a heart-to-heart. So you walked back to his place, hands shoved in to the depths of your pockets, but your shoulders brushing against his with every step. 

The two of you laid face to face on his bed, pillow-width apart. 

“Leaving, yes. Hurting you, not at all.” He answers quietly, his hand drawing circles on the small of your back. 

Under his bedroom lights, you take his breath away. His eyes trace over your features, over every dip and bump of the outlines of your face and he hopes that this vision of you never leaves him. He takes in every mole and freckle on your face like it’s the first time he’s seen them, when the reality is that he always used to map out constellations on your cheeks while you slept. He’s afraid that if he blinks, you’ll vanish again, so he tries to keep his gaze steady on yours, unwavering and certain. The way he looks at you sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“I miss you,” You say, your voice meek and he feels his heart break all over again. “I miss you too.” You both speak in present-tense because even though he could touch you, see you, he knew it would take an indefinite amount of time for the pain of losing so many moments to heal. 

He pulls you into him, savouring the feeling of your embrace. Holding you makes him feel at home, and god knows he’s been away for so long. You nestle into the crook of his neck, and his hands rest under your sweater and on supple skin, willing your pain to go away. 

There are an infinite amount of things he wants to tell you, but he figures “I love you.” would suffice for now. 

Life never slowed down. As much as it felt like it had when you spent your days with him again, the days piled up one by one. And soon enough, time caught up. 

Soon enough, you would need to book your train ticket back to the city, because your three-week long semester break would draw to a close. He would have to book a plane ticket back to glitz and glamour, and the pair of you would wind up in the same dilemma that you were in five years ago. 

Only this time, he never leaves your side during your fleeting time together. This time, he tries to make up for all the lost moments within the span of three weeks. He doesn’t let go of any chance to be with you- to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you. He imprints the feeling of his skin on yours so that you never forget. So that he never forgets. Your eyes are cosmic in the moments that you share intimately, and he soaks up every inch of you so that he never forgets what it feels like to share the same breath. 

He listens to all your stories and all your bizarre adventures with a fond smile, because you tell them with such wonder that it makes him feel like he was there. Your voice is the only one he wants in his head. 

When he drops you off at the station, he doesn’t say goodbye. But not like last time; he doesn’t say goodbye because instead he says I’ll see you soon and Get there safely. When he watches the train pull away from the platform, he prays he sees it soon again because it carries his heart with him. 

He likes to imagine that you send him voice notes of your day and how frustrated you are with you OChem professor. That you send him pictures of yourself, and all the cute little cats you come across during your walks to class. That you send him long letters in the mail like the hopeless romantic that you are. In return, he would introduce you to his members- he knows you’d get along with Hyunjin the best, because you both would like to bitch about him while he’s still in the room. He likes the idea of facetiming you whenever you have the time, and getting to say he misses you, even if it’s only through a screen. He likes to imagine that in every lyric he writes, an essence of you treads in his words, because you’re his only muse. And he envisions the day when he’s finally back in the town where time slows, up in your room where the rest of the world crumbles away and your slates are clean once again. 

But for now he watches as the train becomes nothing but a speck in the distance, waiting for it all to play out.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Vol. 2 Chap. 28

Summary: N’Jobu and Califia take Erik back to Sau Paulo, Brazil after major changes in Oakland...

"This world is still afloat No, not in Noah's boat We've only lost the vision Of the stars we're meant to be

Another broken heart Another lesson learnt Another harvest eaten Another night is gone A new day's begun Even your dreams they can be real"

Zero 7—"This World"

Califia watched her son write furiously in his journal.

Erik spent time sitting at their kitchen table most evenings writing and sketching just like his father. He was excited and antsy and she hadn't seen her son this happy in weeks. Sitting across from N'Jobu, Erik seemed to be in a world of his own.

When N'Jobu sat Erik down to give him just a tiny bit of their future plans, their son beamed with satisfaction. They both had no idea that the boy was unhappy with Oakland and his life there. Every day Black life wore Erik down, and instead of dealing with a child sad about leaving behind friends and family, Erik was eager to go far away. N'Jobu didn't tell Erik the possible troubles that awaited them. That would come in time. He was only told that they would be moving out of the country in a year and that he should not talk about it with anyone, not even close family.

Califia wanted to reveal their plans to her father and grandmother when they were closer to leaving. Nana Jean's health was a consideration for travel, and Califia had to prepare herself for the reality that she would possibly have to leave her and Dante behind if Nana was not up to the drastic change.

Erik was watching her.

Califia caught Erik's eye at the table as his busy hand paused in mid-scribble.

"Erik?" she asked.

N'Jobu stopped writing and stared at their son too.

"I want to go march for Auntie Lia," Erik said.

N'Jobu's eyes regarded Califia's.

The anniversary march.

Activists in Sao Paulo planned a huge memorial march for Negra Lia with the blessing of her family. Soliel and Aunjanue were part of the organizing happening there, and Califia wanted to attend that march too but there was the possibility of them moving at a moment's notice if this man N'Jobu trusted acted sooner. What was his name? Klaue?

N'Jobu put down his pen and looked at Erik.

"Are you sure you can handle going back there?" he asked.

Erik nodded.

"I want to be there. Marisol is going to march. I want those killers to know we aren't afraid of them."

N'Jobu glanced back at Califia.

"And you?" he asked.

"I feel ready to go back. That's our family. It will give us some closure," she said.

"I might not be able to go with you if things happen…I would like to be there too, but if I get word-"

"It's okay-"

"I can't say that I like the idea of you both being there again. I understand why you want to go, but…"

He stared down at his journal.

"If I am able to go, I will do so," he finally said.

Califia sauntered over to the table and sat on N'Jobu's lap. She kissed his forehead, and he raised his head up and pressed his lips onto hers.

"Aw, man…," Erik whined.

"What?" N'Jobu said.

"Should I leave?" Erik asked.

"Boy, what?" Califia said.

"You two start kissing and then…eww," Erik teased while making a face at them.

N'Jobu grinned.

"One day, Son, you will be grateful to be able to do this with a woman," he said.

"Y'all do it too much though."

"Mark my words," N'Jobu said.

His lips gave tiny smooches all over her cheeks and nose. Erik rolled his eyes and continued writing.

The house phone rang and N'Jobu continued kissing on Califia.

"I guess I'll get it," Erik said sliding off of his chair and padding over to the kitchen wall phone. Califia slipped N'Jobu a little tongue while Erik was gone.

"You keep doing that and we'll have to go upstairs," N'Jobu whispered in her ear as his tongue traced the curves of her left ear.

"Promise?" she said.

"Mom!"

Erik's voice made Califia jump off of N'Jobu's lap.

"What is it?"

Erik held the wall phone to her.

"It's Grandpop, Nana's in the hospital," Erik said.

###

N'Jobu watched Califia pace the floor outside Nana's hospital room. Dante and Erik sat on chairs against the hallway wall.

"Babe, sit down," N'Jobu said patting the empty chair next to him.

Califia kept checking her cell phone.

"He should've been here by now with them," she said.

"Junie probably got caught in traffic…Califia, please, sit," he said.

Nana's doctor came out of the room.

"You all may go back in. She may be a little lethargic because of the painkillers."

Filing into the room, they surrounded Nana and her hand reached out for Erik.

"It's okay, Nana," Erik said.

His son stood close to her bed and held her hand tight. Dante stroked his mother's forehead.

"They're downstairs! I'm going down to help bring her things up," Califia said.

"I can do that," Dante said.

"It's okay, Daddy. Nana, I'm going to be right back."

Califia leaned over and kissed her grandmother's cheek. Nana touched her arm, and her feeble hands shook. Califia stroked the woman's fingers and left the room.

"N'Jobu…"

Nana's soft voice propelled him to push a chair to her side. Erik stayed standing next to him.

"I'm here Nana…right here," he said.

"Come closer."

Her eyes struggled to focus, and when she finally held his gaze, she gave him a weak smile.

"…tried to stay as long as I could…"

"Nana, just rest. Save your energy."

She blinked several times and her head lifted, her eyes looking above him.

"Nana," Erik whispered.

Her eyes returned to N'Jobu's.

"Take care of my babies—"

A heavy cough shook her thin frame and Dante leaned over from the other side of the bed with a handkerchief. He wiped a bit of spittle from her lips.

"Ma, just rest," Dante said.

Dante clutched her right hand as N'Jobu hung on to her left hand.

"You were always a good son, Dante. I'm so proud of you," she whispered.

Dante's head dropped low and he wiped his watery eyes.

"N'Jobu…"

"Ma'am," N'Jobu answered.

Her breathing grew ragged.

"Take care of them all…please…and, JaJa…"

Erik pressed his face close to hers and N'Jobu let him take Nana's hand. She whispered in Erik's ear and held his hand in a firm grip. Her brow was covered in a light sheen of perspiration and Erik gave her affirmations of "Yes", "Okay", and "Uh-huh."

Eric finally pressed his forehead into hers and she kissed his nose.

"It's okay, Nana. It's okay. I'll tell her…Nana?"

Nana Jean's eyes closed.

Her doctor came back into the room with a nurse by his side. Dante still held Nana's hand.

Califia arrived with Junie and their other cousins.

"Wait! Wait!" Califia shouted.

N'Jobu touched her back as Dante pushed his face into Nana's covers and wept. Erik still held his great-grandmother's hand.

"Nana…Nana…I love you…"

Califia's voice grew soft and they all heard the heart monitor go flat. Nana's doctor turned it off.

"I shouldn't have left…I thought…"

Califia's wet face crumpled and Erik reached for her hand.

"It's okay Mom, I held Nana's hand for you and she said that when I hold her hand on this side, our family who passed on holds it for her on the other side. So when she let go here, they hung on there. See? Don't cry, Mom. She just went over there…to wait for us one day. She told me to hold onto your hand and Baba's too."

"Califia, hey…come here."

N'Jobu held her as she wept in his arms. The crying spread throughout the room and when Erik patted her back, she was able to face her grandmother once more.

"She looks peaceful, doesn't she? "

"She does," N'Jobu replied stroking her back.

They all sat with Nana for over an hour until Dante insisted that they allow the doctor to care for her remains.

"I have calls to make…I need to let the church know…" Dante said.

"I can do all that, Daddy," Califia said.

Dante nodded and they all left the room.

"Give me a minute," Califia said.

She went back into the room with Erik and the Doctor let her hug her grandmother one last time. He watched her touch Nana's thin hair as Erik held Califia's waist.

When she returned to N'Jobu, her spirit had lifted.

"Babe?" he asked.

"I'm good. I just wish I was here when she slipped away. I just needed her to know how much I loved her. How much everything she did for me all my life was…she…she saved me so many times. I tried to thank her every time I visited her these last few days. It didn't feel like it was enough. I wanted her to know my heart was always with her."

"She knew that Mom," Erik said.

Califia nodded and wiped her face. Dante slipped his arm around hers and they left the hospital in a solemn mood.

Erik did his best to cheer Califia up, and it worked. He had her laughing by saying Nana was only upset that she couldn't wear her best wig for the cute doctor.

"Only Nana would worry about looking cute," Califia said.

By the time they made it back to Nana's house most of the family who lived in town had arrived at the home.

Califia and N'Jobu greeted everyone and the family listened to Erik repeat the last words of Nana Jean. There were plenty of Nana stories passed around, and much laughter sprinkled throughout the tears. Dante had a difficult time with the realization that Nana wasn't coming home from a hospital visit this time and Califia rose to the occasion with Junie helping relatives ease into her absence. Phone calls and soft knocks on the front door occurred as neighbors came to pay their respects and give condolences. The Pastor from Nana's church arrived with fellow church members and Junie ran out to buy chicken and sides from a local restaurant to feed the house that was now stuffed with mourners.

A few hours later, N'Jobu went looking for Erik among the hustle and bustle of relatives crowding the house. He found him outside on the steps.

"JaJa."

He sat down next to him and patted his shoulder.

"How are you doing, Son?"

"Fine. I thought I would feel sadder, but, I dunno. Nana made me feel good. Is that weird, Baba?'

"No. Not at all."

"I know Mom is upset that Nana left without her saying goodbye, but I think Nana did that on purpose. Maybe she tried to make it less sad for Mom?"

"Maybe."

Erik looked out onto the street.

"Is there really a heaven, Baba?"

"I believe there is an afterlife, yes. I was raised to believe in a beautiful place. The ancestral plane. You die and return to your ancestors…spend eternity with those who helped create you."

"Even God?"

"Even God. In my country, Bast is a great cosmic energy that is infused in all living beings. You will see Nana again."

"And Lia?"

"She is family. So yes. All of your loved ones who have transitioned will be reunited."

Erik's eyes were shiny, and finally, the tears came. N'Jobu pulled his son against him.

"You were so strong for your mother. Do you know that? You helped Nana cross over in peace."

"I wish she could've stayed with us longer."

"She was very ill, Erik. And in a lot of pain."

"I know. Can she see me right now?"

"I'm sure she can."

"That means no matter where we go, she can be there with us, right?"

"Yes. In spirit."

Erik's chest shuddered. More tears fell.

"Can we move sooner?"

N'Jobu sighed and watched his son's face.

"Soon enough."

"I want to go to Wakanda, Baba. I don't want to live here."

"There will be a lot for me to do before I can take you to Wakanda, Son."

"I know. But I'm ready. Anyplace away from here is good. Will you tell Grandpop now?"

"Your mother will decide that. Now that Nana has gone, I don't know how your grandfather will feel about leaving Oakland."

"I will miss Walter. And Nevaeh."

"They will miss you too. But hopefully, in the future, you can visit with them. There will be so many changes and sacrifices son. There is so much more for you to know in due time. Thank you for being patient with me."

Erik threw his arms around N'Jobu's neck and they sat quietly together. Holding his son, N'Jobu felt emboldened.

"Can we go home now? I think Mom is ready. She looked tired," Erik said.

"C'mon. Let's go check on her," N'Jobu said.

N'Jobu walked back into the house and Califia slipped her hand in his when he stepped into the living room.

"Daddy is resting. Junie and Michelle are staying here with him," she said.

"You want to stay longer?'

"No. We can go. I'll come back over tomorrow. Junie is handling everything. Daddy is letting him too."

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

They bid everyone farewell and returned to their townhouse. When Erik had showered and gone to bed, N'Jobu rested with Califia in their bedroom.

"You think you're ready for things like this, but when it finally happens…it feels so unexpected. I know she wasn't going to be here forever, but she was such a huge part of my life…a huge part of who I am. I miss her so much already."

"You and Erik were her heart and she's in a special place now. You heard what Erik said. Rest in that love."

"I will. I will."

He stroked her hair and held her hand against his chest.

"When should we prepare to leave for good?" she asked

"The next three months. We should begin sorting and packing. Not a lot, but things you want to take with us," he said.

She nodded.

"Do you want to sell the house?" he asked.

"No. I'd like to let Junie or Michelle stay here and take care of it. Keep it in the family. My father may want to sell Nana's house. Now that she's gone, it may be easier to convince him to come with us. We have options. No rush though."

"Erik is so ready," he said.

"I am too."

He stared at her. She ran her fingers across his naked chest and pressed her cheek against his.

"I feel this surge of movement in me. Like I can't sit still…this need to move far away is swirling in me. It's not even about going to Wakanda, but just getting away from everything, taking Erik someplace where he can be free. Be a child for as long as we can let him be one."

She lifted her head to look at him.

"You do whatever you have to do to make that happen for him."

"I will."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

She dozed in his arms and he spent the rest of the night listening to her deep breathing.

###

Sao Paulo felt different.

There was crackling energy in the air.

Califia felt it all around her.

As she walked the streets with her father and Erik, their energy was different too. Although Nana's death was months ago, their family had bounced back into joy again being around Soliel, Aunjanue, Marisol, and Besouro.

So much eating. So much drinking.

Capoeira.

She couldn't record enough video of her father and Soliel's father playing with Erik and Marisol. Her fingers were blistered from drumming and playing the berimbau as her son flipped and fought with the best mestres on the planet. Their world seemed even more complete when Bakari joined them with Shavonne.

For once, Califia's soul was at ease. N'Jobu was there with them. Even with Nana Jean gone now, life was perfect.

They rented a little house near Soliel and her family, and N'Jobu quit his job. He created fake reports to be sent to Wakanda, and they lived it up in Brazil. He allowed her to listen in on some of his secret talks with his War Dogs even though she didn't know the language. He hid nothing from her.

Their temporary home in Sao Paulo was small, but Califia and Soliel had planning meetings for the big march there. Activists were fired up, and not just for Negra Lia. Three more police brutality cases had occurred in the states and another in Sao Paulo where a young teen was killed in her own yard when the Sao Paulo policia federal bullied and threatened smaller groups of protestors trying to support the upcoming larger march. Chasing young people through the streets, the policia federal shot bullets that struck the girl in her own yard. The child wasn't even part of the protest, just playing in her own yard and minding her own business.

The city was ripe for change. Not just in Sao Paulo, but everywhere.

Califia and Erik watched groups of Maori protestors doing sacred Haka for Black people killed in the United States. Indigenous people from Australia pointed out their own history of white and state violence against their own aboriginal people. It was a global pandemic of police violence against black and other non-white people everywhere.

Erik tried mimicking the Haka that he saw, and went online to learn more about it. It was the ferocity in the Maori people's eyes that enamored Erik. Especially when the Maori women did the Haka. The exaggerated rolling of eyeballs, the strong slaps to the chest and legs, the tongues thrust out and the loud shouts invigorated them both. The brandishing of the short patu clubs made Erik's eyes shiny with admiration.

"It looks like they are calling all the Gods in the world to come down!" he said in an excited voice as he shared video clips with her.

The fight was happening everywhere, and Sao Paulo was on the verge of exploding with the calls for justice floating around them. The kinetic energy to force change rippled through Califia's family.

She felt it from N'Jobu most of all.

When Erik was fast asleep, N'Jobu would be between her legs, his grunts and groans behind gritted teeth and fisted hands made her orgasms so intense she couldn't even see straight. They fucked like they were in college again, so much so that poor Erik made it a point to go for long walks away from the house in the morning because they were so loud.

Tangled up in sweaty sheets every morning, Califia would hold onto N'Jobu as his sated body pressed all his weight on top of her. He didn't even speak English to her when they made love now. The language of his homeland dripped from his lips and into her ears, and when he pulsed inside of her, all thick and juicy, the contractions of her body overwhelmed her.

They were blessed.

She was turned on by the aggression in his voice when he spoke to his followers. Rubbing his shoulders when he barked orders over his secured comm tab gave her a small glimpse of what he must be like when he was in Wakanda. The way the other Wakandan voices capitulated to him made her panties wet. She couldn't help it. Nothing on God's green earth was sexier to her than a man with total confidence and bass in his voice. He had even started wearing his gold panther teeth openly around them. The moment he shook off pretending to be a barber, she saw him step back into who he really was. It took her back to the time when she saw him in D.C., the time when she and Bakari saw him in his full glory.

Sometimes, when Erik was away with Marisol, Califia would lay in bed and listen to N'Jobu conduct his secret meetings online. If he sat in a particular chair in their small living room, she could leave the bedroom door open and watch his profile. His face was…fuck…his face was everything. His voice was everything. The clicks and growls from his language had her fingers busy flicking her clit and manipulating her soaked folds. She would pat her vulva and watch him, feeling the slick of her fingers get wetter the more he spoke. Covering her mouth with her hand, she would hide her intense release so as not to disturb him. This, in turn, would make her want to serve him.

She was compelled to be subservient to him.

Pussy dripping, she'd often walk into the room while he spoke and bring him things. Water. Snacks. She'd sit near his legs on the floor and rub his feet for him, or stand behind him and massage his scalp. She once was bold enough to wear nothing but his t-shirt while kneeling before him and taking his dick in her mouth. He muted the communications that day and allowed her to suck all up and down his erection while reports were given to him. When the call ended, he stayed in that dominant role. Barking orders at her to suck harder, take his length deeper. With those gold teeth in his mouth and that regal bearing of his just sitting in an ordinary chair, Califia saw him as more than a Prince. He was her King. She was more than ready to bow down to him.

He forced her to climb onto his dick and he sat back and made her work him over. He didn't move a muscle and she rocked and swiveled her hips, her smooth vulva so sticky with fluid from her own body. His dark eyes raked up and down her body and she whimpered as her pussy gushed all over his dick. His face looked hard, mean in his sexy way and she knew for a fact that he expected her to obey his commands to fuck him good. The brat in her came out, and when she switched up her wiggling and it displeased him, he reached up and yanked on her hair.

She bounced on him and he loosened his grip on her braids, but then she slowed down and he grabbed her throat. His heated gaze told her he was upset with her behavior on his dick and once he began talking to her with clenched teeth in Wakandan, she held still and listened. He still didn't move under her, and the raised anger in his voice spurred her to higher levels of bratty behavior: she broke eye contact with him.

A big no-no.

N'Jobu pulled her off of his girth and pushed her down onto his lap. His palm spanked the brat out of her until she was crying tears of torturous pleasure.

"Fuck me right!" He demanded.

She lifted up from lying across his lap, her ass cheeks hot with exquisite pain. He leaned back in the chair again and didn't assist her crawling back on top of him.

She bounced on him the way a King deserved to be served, his pants punctuating his own pleasure. The tipping point came for him when he watched her pussy clench around him and he gripped her waist tight and finally thrust up into her. She hung onto him as he cursed at her in Wakandan until he seized up and spurted hard and deep.

He made her lick all her juices from his dick before demanding that she sit on his lap while he took more calls. He fingered her pussy the entire time and dared her to make one sound as he did. She kept quiet and he punished her folds with frisky fingers for hours, only releasing her when they heard Erik returning from Soliel's.

He was everything and more to her, and he fell right into his royal status with her supporting that authoritarian energy.

Bakari joined her at the planning meetings for Lia's protest march. They were three days from the actual march and had already hit a snag. The police wanted to know the march routes ahead of time, and the core leaders were reluctant to give them.

"We could give them fake routes," Califia suggested, "or just a half-assed map."

"There's no way to control how many people show up. Or who will follow a sanctioned route," Soliel said.

Erik sat next to her as the fifteen adults in the room murmured among themselves on what to do. They needed a permit to fill the streets but many didn't want the authorities to know all their moves. At that moment, their permit was being held up.

Besouro stood next to Soliel, his face carrying a scowl.

"We march against our enemy and we have to give them a map of our plans?" he snapped.

Many agreed with him.

Califia stared at Soliel. Since Lia's death, she had taken on the role of community leader filling the huge vacuum Lia left behind. She could see the stress and worry on her sister's face. Aunjanue walked into the house with two more women from the community.

"There are policia federals outside," she said.

Califia and Bakari went to her windows and looked out. An unmarked car was parked down the street. Two white men dressed in jeans and soccer shirts walked across the street giving occasional glances to the house. A light-skinned woman stood next to another car talking on a cell phone, but she was no one Califia had ever seen before. N'Jobu swept the house for bugs every time they left their temporary home, so she wasn't worried about them hearing what was said inside.

She checked her own cell and let N'Jobu know the house had eyes on it. He had gone to get food for the meeting with her father and was due to return soon.

Bakari turned to look at the group.

"The eyes of the world will be on these marches. We know that there will be many around the world marching in solidarity. I say give them the routes so we can get the permit. The routes won't matter. If they plan on targeting any of you, it will be in front of the world," Bakari said.

Soliel glanced over at Erik.

"I don't think children should be there," Soliel said.

"What?"

Erik's voice piped up fast. He had been silent for most of the meeting, taking in all the ideas and suggestions.

"I want to march," he said looking up at Califia.

"I agree with Soliel. We use our children to do our battles with us and they end up getting hurt or traumatized. We should tell everyone to keep them at home. Just adults," Aunjanue said.

"Mom…that's not fair," Erik whined.

"JaJa, nephew, you are brave and strong and we all know you loved your Auntie. But these police are beasts here. They murdered a girl already—"

"Aunjanue…"

Califia gave a stern look to her friend.

"Cali, our children deserve to be children. Not warriors," she said.

"I agree," Bakari said.

"Man…"

Erik pouted and he sat back further in his seat crossing his arms.

"I'm not letting Marisol go," Soliel said, "It's too dangerous."

"Mom—"

"Erik, let the grown-ups talk. You are here to just listen right now," Califia said.

"We just want to protect you, Erik," Bakari said.

"You can't protect us all the time. That girl who died was at home. She wasn't in the streets. They will get us no matter where we are. I know you guys don't want me to see violence or get hurt, but I've already seen the worst of it. I was there when Auntie died. I was there when they bombed the street. They kill us here, and they kill us back where I live. I'm not scared to die. I want them to see that. I'm a kid, but I'm already a warrior. Mom, you raised me to be a fighter. Why would you make me sit in the house?"

"Because you are my son, and I want you to live to become an adult. I know you want to show your love for Lia, but this could get ugly—"

"It ain't fair…it ain't fair!"

Erik jumped out of his seat.

"JaJa."

N'Jobu's voice froze Erik in mid-stride.

Bakari walked over and took bags of food from N'Jobu as Dante walked through the meeting group carrying more bags to the kitchen. Califia reached out for Erik and pulled him back toward her and hugged him around his waist.

N'Jobu took in the room, and then his eyes fell back onto his son.

"There is a time for children to be children and a time for children to become adults. My, son, this is the time for you to be our child—"

"Baba—"

N'Jobu held up his hand.

"You will not go to the march, JaJa. Not this time," he said.

Califia felt Erik's body shake with anger and disappointment. She stood up and held his hand.

"C'mon…come with me," she said pulling him toward his room. N'Jobu followed her and closed the bedroom door. Erik turned and faced them both with his fists clenched.

"You said I could march before we came here," Erik said.

"That was before all the other killings," N'Jobu said.

"They kill us all the time. It doesn't matter—"

"You matter to us," Califia reasoned.

"And Lia mattered to me. All of us. I want to go. If you are both there, it'll be okay."

Erik's face wavered between wanting to cry and being full of hot anger.

"Baby, Lia would want you to be safe. Not going to the march doesn't mean you won't show the world that you care about justice…it's just that our children suffer so much trying to prove their humanity too, and you don't need that pressure. The adults need to do the hard work so you don't have to. I think you're worried that you'll disappoint Lia's memory, but you won't. Things have shifted in a serious way and these cops down here JaJa, they can be worse than the ones at home—"

"All cops are bad, Mom. No matter where they are. You say that all the time. They are all the same."

"I know I say that, and it's true, but the level of hate for us because she has been elevated in the world along with so many others…it's going to be tougher to keep you safe."

"Then you shouldn't go either."

Califia looked over at N'Jobu.

"We will go and you will stay. You can be mad. Upset. You can even feel angry with us for a long time afterward, but we make decisions for you because we know what is best. We love you. We protect you. We shape the world for you, my Son. Allow us to do this. In the future, you can march with us, but right now…for this particular event—"

N'Jobu's kimoyo beads lit up.

Erik stepped closer to them as they all watched the subtle glow of lavender on N'Jobu's wrist. N'Jobu held a finger to his lips and tapped a bead.

They heard the stern voice of a woman speaking rapid-fire Wakandan.

N'Jobu spoke to her and it sounded like he was giving orders. The call was short and when N'Jobu touched his beads again, his face looked determined.

"Klaue will be in Wakanda. Next week."

His eyes held Califia's and she felt a rush of adrenaline. They would leave for Malta soon.

"We're leaving?" Erik asked.

N'Jobu touched Erik's shoulder.

"Soon enough. JaJa—"

"Okay…okay, Baba. I won't go to the march."

Califia gave a sigh of relief. She couldn't focus on the work of organizing if she had to battle her son too.

"Thank you," Califia said to her son.

N'Jobu hugged Erik and pulled Califia in close too.

"Hey, we're ready to eat if you guys want to join us."

Bakari's voice rang out behind the bedroom door.

"Here we come," Califia said.

They walked out as a solid unit and enjoyed plates of steak and rice with the other organizers.

Soliel designed a mock-up of the protest route on her laptop and N'Jobu kept his eyes on Califia the rest of the night. They allowed Erik to stay among the adults and she was glad that he accepted not participating. She kept peeking out of the window with Aunjanue.

The undercover police were still lingering.

Soliel gathered the activists back into the living room and had three of them stand before the group wearing black coverings over their mouths and white paper pinned to their chests with black target rings painted on it.

"Lia always said we will always be a target if we don't speak out. This is what some of us will be wearing to the march. What do you all think?" Soliel said.

The others nodded their approval and someone suggested holding their hands bound in front of them to show that they were still treated like slaves.

It was going to be a long night.

She kissed Erik on his forehead and held him closer to her body.

Chapter 29 HERE.

###

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ 

@soufcakmistress​ 

 @cherrystainedlipsbaby 

@tclaybon  

@thadelightfulone​

@allhailqueennel​ 

@bartierbakarimobisson 

@cpwtwot​ 

@shookmcgookqueen​ 

@yoyolovesbucky​

@raysunshine78​ 

@the-illllest 

@terrablaze514​  

@l-auteuse​ 

@amirra88​ 

@jimizwidow​ 

@janelledarling​

@chaneajoyyy​ 

 @sweetestdream92 

@purple-apricots​ 

@hennessystevens-udaku​

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ 

@bugngiz​ 

@stariamrry​  

@honeytoffee​ 

@meilintheempressofdreams​

@tyees​ 

@eye-raq​ 

@writerbee-ffs​ 

@chocolatedream30​ 

@childishgambinaa​ 

@mygirlrenee​ 

@thewaysheis—awkward