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moosoobi · 4 years ago

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Confessions

In the night: Chapter 2

T.Jeff- Hamilton: the musical

Y/N can’t hold all her secrets. She’s tired of hiding. The people deserve the truth. Here’s her confession: the one she should’ve told us long ago

I started to write this chapter the day after I finished chapter 1, yet before the first chapter was even published (time management queen). As I’m typing this message, I’m currently distracting myself from finals LMAO. Anyway, I wanted to finish this chapter as soon as possible to give some explanation of the events in the previous chapter, so I hope I do exactly that. I’m still manifesting that I articulate through this story smoothly, please give me feedback <3

MC (aka Y/N’s) POV

Modern au

Word Count: 5.4k

A few unrealistic realities, but I’m working with what I got

This chapter will most likely answer many questions about chapter 1

THIS CHAPTER OCCURS AT THE SAME TIME AS CHAPTER 1! all events in this chapter line up with the events of chapter 1

Disclaimers:

TW: violence, abuse, mentions of blood, themes of injury, itty bitty angst?

photo not mine <3

If you have any questions/concerns about this story, DONT BE SHY TO ASK ME! This is my first time writing a whole series, so I apologize if the plot gets confusing.

-Now Playing: Broken Clocks by SZA-

Where to start…

My attention was taken from Professor Washington’s lecture the moment I felt a pair of eyes attempting to pierce a hole in the back of my head. As I look back, I realize that it’s no one other than Thomas Jefferson, the spoiled francophile, or so people like the whisper, but gossip’s not my thing.

Upon being called out by Professor Washington, I couldn’t hold in my giggle as Thomas’s head ducks down in embarrassment. I suppose he sure knows how to lighten the demeanor in the lecture hall; It was a nice excuse to take my eyes off of Washington’s low-quality power-point presentation, but I appreciate that the man is trying.

This class feels like it’ll last forever, and I contemplate if I could just perish in my seat at this very instant, yet Thomas’s presence seems to make it worthwhile. I don’t know him that much, or maybe at all for that matter, but since he’s been seen with a Schuyler, the locals around here can’t seem to keep their mouths shut about him.

From what I’ve heard, he’s another silver-spoon raised boy representing Virginia up here in New York. A few scholarships here and there, as well as a trip to France for a semester. I don’t see what all the fuss is about; He seems like a pretty cool person, probably has an exciting life, and isn’t throwing away his shot. It’s odd, even with parents to piggyback off of, Thomas is very similar to a certain orphan I know.

“Class is dismissed” Is all I heard from Professor Washington’s mouth before that obnoxious but relieving bell sounds off.

Desperate to get out of this class, I hurry to put my stationery items into my burgundy-magenta backpack. You’d think after those turbulent years of high school that college would motivate me for fancier bags, but I can’t say no to my favorite color. It’s simple, won’t bring attention to my presence, unlike every other decision I’ve made in my life.

After I finally finished packing up, I can’t wait to take a breath of the fresh, polluted air of New York City. I quickly spotted my roommate's car within the crowd of vehicles next to the sidewalk. He’s on time, as always, to pick me up from class, and I’m grateful that he sacrifices his time for me, but it’s not like he had a choice. I toss my bag into the trunk, surely crinkling a few important papers. Upon reaching the door of his expensive car, my roommate greets me with joy to see me.

“How was class, Cherie?”

Lafayette, my roommate, shoots a smile at me, his white teeth are almost blinding, but he always says I’m exaggerating.

“Boring as always, but I’m still here, sadly” I say as I hop into the front seat of Lafayette’s car. He pouts in my direction

“Ahh, c’mon, don’t be like that.” Once he acknowledges the buckling of my seatbelt, he begins to power up the car. “C’est la vie, Y/N” I roll my eyes, my hatred for him grows just a little more every time he says that.

“Can we get McDonald’s?” I attempt to change the subject, earning a small chuckle from him. He prepares to drive off “You know I can't say no to you and your American junk food”

And so we begin to drive off

Lafayette and I indeed have a bit of history together. After I got mistakenly involved with Alexander and his clique, Lafayette was the next best (or worse) person to walk into my life. He’s sweet, charming, probably all the things Americans are not; the gentleman hails from France. Yet he’s so much more than that.

Ever since I caught his eye at that obnoxious high school party, he and I hit the ground running. Disclosing the events which took place in his-

our bedroom won’t solve the problem, but the stubble on his jaw and the way he holds the steering wheel with one hand nearing my thigh reminds me of the unresolved sexual tension between the both of us.

I’ve only been living in his apartment for a few months, an idea he proposed when I mentioned my dreadful rent. A nice view, nice coffee maker, and nice bedsheets were more than enough to convince me, but I know there’s more to that “nice” list that I shouldn’t disclose.

Though I know his intentions were good, I’m sure he invited me into his abode to protect me from Alex.

Since I began to band with Alex and his gang, Alexander’s been strict about getting me home on time. It wasn’t only because I was a helpless high school student, but also to prevent me from ratting him and his group out to the authorities.

Upon joining Alex's posse, a strict curfew has been placed on me, only to ensure I stay safe at night, or perhaps to make sure I don’t betray them.

Moving in with Lafayette made following this time limitation easier for me, especially since he volunteers to drive me home or takes a stand for me. If the unfortunate event of my arrival past my ‘bedtime’ timer occurs, Alexander ensures I pay the price.

Speaking of arrivals, Lafayette passes me a box of hot, salty fries and a smile spreads across my face. His eyes visibly soften as my entire demeanor changes.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best person ever?” I spilled my thoughts while stuffing my mouth with fries. He lightly chuckles, watching me.

“Maybe a couple of times..” He prepares to drive off again “...too many times, actually.” he shot a wink at me.

Blood didn’t have any time to rush to my cheeks before I could slap the side of his shoulder, causing him to whine in discomfort. I sigh before returning my focus to the steaming fries in front of me. The tension grows, and so does the silence between us. Eager to break the tension, I propose an idea.

“Let’s go home?” we turn to each other at the same time

“Oui.”

---

I enter Professor Washington’s lecture hall and my attention is driven to the two curly-headed Virginians. I watch in secondhand embarrassment as Thomas Jefferson and his friend playfully argue in front of the entire class, seemingly a heated debate of the greatness of Mac and Cheese. One argues on behalf of the gooey pasta, while the other simultaneously retorts with a mix of “you’re so stupid” and “God help me”.

Feeling a rush of confidence and suaveness, my brain urges my body to intervene in their conversation. Maybe it was to make new friends, or perhaps to stop the class from staring at their dumb dispute, but I swiftly walk over to them. The next few words to come out of my mouth fell into place oh-so-perfectly.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

Upon sitting in between the two Virginians, they introduce themselves. The calmer, self-collected man among the two introduced himself as James Madison, while the bolder, upbeat man introduced himself as no other than Thomas Jefferson. Both of them seemed happy that I interrupted and decided to reach out to them, maybe one was a tad more excited than the other.

And ever since then, Professor Washington can’t seem to split up our trio. From childish jokes and a few inappropriate inferences, Thomas and James make great company. The idiotic smile that spreads across Thomas’s face whenever he’s capable of making James and I break our silence during class would become more annoying than Lafayette saying “C’est la vie” whenever I make a poor life decision.

Nevertheless, Thomas and James dangerously remind me of Alexander and his goons. The abundant amount of self-praise and cocky remarks said by both Thomas and Alexander is almost astronomical. In the case of Thomas and Alexander’s meeting, I’m sure they’d be the best of friends. But likewise, I could also envision the two attempting to tear each other's heads off, the chaotic clashing of two powerful minds.

They always know what to say and when to say it. I’ve never met anyone as clever as Thomas and James, and they’re even worse when they’re together.

“‘ ‘s Adams here today? Washington told me to turn in my papers t’ him.” Thomas whispers as he eases into his chair, Washington’s booming voice seems to become background noise to us

“Is he ever?” I reply, attempting not to giggle at my own response “I haven’t seen him since Washington initially introduced him to the class.”

“Maybe he’s jus’ sick or somethin’. Kinda reminds me of you, James'' His head of curls turns to stare down James, in which James replies by rolling his eyes

“He can stay home, he does the same amount of work there anyways.” James cleverly retorted.

And that seemed to be our last straw before bursting out in laughter. Thomas’s body flung forward as he laughed his head off, James ducking his head to hide his glee behind his laptop, and I quickly slap a hand over my mouth to prevent anyone around us from drawing suspicion. But apparently, Washington wasn’t having our disguises.

“Can the three of you even tell me what I just said?” Washington turns around from the board to scan the crowd, his eagle eyes find us quickly

The silence was all we could emit, and soon enough, He turned back to his lesson. I sigh with relief; the last thing I need is to get kicked out of a class I don’t even pay for.

…

...

“Washington sure got a shiny ass head. D’you think he uses shampoo and conditioner?” Whispered Thomas as he leans over to me

And just like that, we’re faced with the same struggle all over again.

—-

Lafayette adjusted the hot pan, erupting a few sizzles. The wall clock ticked, the hour arm froze pointing to the “11” written in roman numerals. Lafayette and I decided to agree on a home-cooked meal, and although it’s too late for an average dinner, yet too early to be defined as a midnight snack, I’m sure Lafayette’s cooking will satisfy me for the night.

“Y/NN, would you prefer salt on your omelet? Or did you decide to be healthy tonight?” He said holding a salt shaker in the air to steal my focus from the swirling red liquid in my glass.

My head lifts to meet his eyes. I tilt my head, the wine causing me to ponder for a little longer than I should’ve. He continues to stare at me, holding in a laugh, before I force myself to nod.

“Yeah.. a little won’t hurt” I hear him chuckle at my drunken dialect, but I know the French man isn’t about to lecture me about English “Your wish is my command.”

I watch as he conducts the kitchen perfectly. He knows where everything is, exactly what to add into the sizzling pan, maybe even the exact second to take the meal off the flame.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of monarchy?” the sarcasm was evident in my tone “but I appreciate the submission” I shot him a playful wink, to which he responds with a pompous smirk

A few sips of wine later, I recognize notification that has been staring back at me for hours.

1 Message from Thomas

A text from Thomas? And I’m barely seeing this now? I silently scold myself for giving into the wine before opening the message.

“Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?”

My eyes become glued to my phone. It was certainly necessary for me to reread Thomas’s text, I was unsure if the alcohol was beginning to make me see odd things, but I assured myself I was correct.

I could feel the blush spread across my face. Maybe it’s just the wine taking control, or maybe it’s the butterflies in my stomach forming every time I reread his message. A harmless invite, perhaps evoked from Thomas due to James stroking his ego, but I know James’ wouldn’t promote such a bold, straight-forward message. Though Thomas is known for his meticulous confidence and certainty, a message this simple could be notably deceiving.

But a little socializing won’t damage my self-respect. “Be bold, Y/N” is what I used to tell myself at the beginning of the semester, and what do I have to lose? I begin to type my reply.

“Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way”

Sent.

My introspection was soon interrupted by the screeching plate being slid in my direction by Lafayette, the steam circulating the meal

“Y/N, Mangeons.” My head comes up from my phone, my eyes meet his eyes momentarily.

“Thanks, Laf.” I reply before taking a fork from him and digging into the steaming meal ahead of me. Lafayette’s cooking never disappoints. Ever.

My body couldn’t help but pick up my phone every few minutes to respond to Thomas’s messages, Though they were just the details of the hangout-offer he previously proposed, I felt enclosed in my little bubble while texting him. Those few moments of interaction with him somehow made my day better. I’m sure even Lafayette could see my radiating energy, but I’m not sure how he took it.

We’re technically not a couple; a few hookups and moving in together don't make us an official couple, right?

“Merci, Laffy.” I watched as he visibly cringed at my poor attempt at french. “Let’s just stick to our mother tongues, angel.” He retorted. I laughed it off, yet inside his reply left a scratch on my pride.

---

Another class of absolute foolery and childish inferences, and I can’t help but laugh as Thomas, James, and I exit the lecture hall. The New-York cold hits us harshly, but being about a month into this semester, students already know what to expect.

It was indeed embarrassing, running to Lafayette’s car to remind him of your library study session.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up before your curfew, okay?” He asked with one hand on the wheel. His faux-leather jacket contorting around his toned arms made it difficult not to remember the moments they shared around midnight. The imagery of their candle-lit room appearing in her head as he sat at the wheel stopped her from replying for a moment.

“Y-Yeah sounds great. You’re the best, you know that?” She thanked him for sacrificing his time to make sure she arrives home on time.

“You remind me all the time.” He sneaks in a small wink between his sentences “I’ll see you tonight, Cherie”

Y/N smiled before turning around to prance over to her friends. Y/N heard the faint sounds of Lafayette driving off, sighing in relief

After briefly explaining my situation to the boys, we quickly head over to the library.

A woman in a coral-pink blazer and pants set is waiting impatiently at a table she rented out just for us. “What in the world took you guys so long?” She pressured for an answer

“C’mon Angie, that wasn’t even ten minutes.” Thomas rolled his eyes before removing his backpack and opening a chair for Y/N. Real smooth, Thomas, I can’t lie. He looked over to me, seeing stars in my eyes as I realize I’m standing next to the oldest Schuyler.

“You’re-” She interrupted me with a smile, sticking out her hand to shake mine

“Angelica Schuyler. And you?” I swear her name sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard it around but I just can't place it. I do see her on my social media feed from time to time, and I must admit, she looks even more heavenly in person.

“Y/N L/N.” My hand meets hers in a firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you.”

—-

At first, I thought nothing of it.

Though Lafayette’s text at 7:30 (on the dot) did push me out of my zone, I did appreciate his promise to me.

Thomas on the other hand seemed disturbed by my sudden leave, but it’s not like he’d understand. Alexander would literally kill me if I were home late.

But Thomas and I would continue to hang out. His evening texts would slowly become a weekly routine. Whether it was a scary movie or an ice cream date for just the two of us, he always found a way to spend time with me.

“Don’t tell me that mint chocolate chip is actually your favorite flavor, darlin’.” He adjusted his position on the park bench and raised an eyebrow, his gaze focused on the green ice cream atop my ice cream cone “You might make me regret takin’ you out tonight” he chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile

“You know you love me” I jokingly retorted, scooping part of my ice cream with my tongue, and relaxing against the bench.

It’s very rare to get to relax like this. Not only am I a fully-fledged college student, but also one of Alexander’s goons. The weekends are merely just ‘weekdays: the sequel’, but add forbidden literature and alcohol to that equation.

I look back up to Thomas, seeing his disgusted face. “Wait.. are you actually against mint chocolate chip ice cream?” I cocked an eyebrow towards him

He shrugged before chuckling “I recall telling you of my unfortunate arguments while visiting England..”

“..so what does mint chocolate chip ice cream have to do with your political upheavals in a foreign country?”

He smirked in an ‘all knowing’ manner. “Well, Darlin, if you did your research—“

“—You’ve got to be kidding me—“I start to wonder why I even asked

“—you’d learn that the monstrosity in your ice cream cone, mint chocolate chip, originated in England.” He completed his statement with triumph “Ever since my disagreements in England, I swore to despise such a concoction until the day I die.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t believe you did your research on English creations. You’re so dramatic sometimes” I respond

“Hey, I wouldn’t be a Jefferson if I wasn’t.” He stared back to his cone, the mesmerizing ice cream almost reflecting himself back at him.

We shared silence for a moment. Words were unnecessary when we were together.

“I suppose..” Jefferson started “...I might be able to tolerate mint chocolate chip ice cream, but only for you, though.” He turned towards my direction

My eyes soon met his. “Well, I’m honored to be your exemption, Jefferson.” I smile with triumph, recognizing my effect on him.

He swiftly takes my hand, his skin feels burning compared to mine. Our eyes remain connected as he dips his head down to kiss the back of my hand. I attempt to hide the fact that my heart stopped beating for a moment, but the breath hitching in my throat wouldn’t help me at all.

“Let’s drop the formalities, Darlin, you can call me Thomas now.” My hand remained between his. I try my best to keep my hand still, wanting to marinate in this moment forever.

A new feeling courses through my body. Something unfamiliar. Perhaps it’s the charm of a Southern Gentleman. Maybe the feeling of being treated right for the first time, something I’ve never experienced from anyone.

What have I ever done to deserve this chivalrous kindness?

‘What a gentleman’ I repeat to myself in my mind. What makes him so different from the others?

From a simple kiss, I suddenly crave more.

More than the unresolved sexual tension between Lafayette and I.

More than I was ever granted the opportunity to.

Maybe ‘more’ is what I deserve.

My mind bleeds with the thought of Lafayette, but Thomas seems like he has so much more to offer. What if I do deserve to be happy? I may not have earned it, but who gets to declare my right to happiness? I was once happy with Lafayette, but the times have changed

He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.

---

But no matter how much I enjoyed spending time with Jefferson himself, I was always the first one to leave. I had to.

I remember the way his smile would fall at the sound of Lafayette’s car horn.

The way his jaw tenses whenever my phone vibrates across the table

Whenever Lafayette came to pick me up, I also can’t help but feel a part of my soul crack within me.

“I’ll see you this weekend?” He kisses the back of my hand once more in an attempt to savor this moment, continuing to maintain eye contact.

“I’ll try, Thomas. Not sure if I’m busy.” I sigh with fatigue. “But I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. Get home safe, darlin’” I hear him stand from the park bench as I wander to Lafayette’s car, his eyes following my figure.

I hop into Lafayette’s car before taking one last glance in Thomas’s direction, watching as his figure begins to walk in the opposite direction that our car was heading.

“Ahh, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me” his sarcastic tone wouldn’t pierce deep enough.

I speak without thinking. “I do recall you claiming that you and I were never a couple, remember Laf?” My change in demeanor was certain to shut him up. And he did.

He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.

I remained turned away from Lafayette as we drove through the city. The memories built between Lafayette and I constantly falls like a house of cards, but I prefer to avoid the subject.

Lafayette felt otherwise, yet respected my choice.

He was the first to speak.

“Alexander needs me for a transport this weekend.” He stated, “I’m not sure when I’ll get back, so it’s very important that you get back from whatever plans you have before your curfew.” He takes a glance over to me and briefly meets my eyes

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N.”

Ah yes, the monthly literature transportation of Alexander’s gang.

The Notorious Sons of Liberty.

A popular group roaming the streets of New York. But instead ironically of selling drugs or performing homicide, they produce and sell illegal, banned literature and disperse them to the highest bidders.

How else do you think I pay for college?

Although gang violence isn’t really their thing, that doesn’t mean they’re not in possession of such weaponry and devices. I’ve never seen anyone take literature as seriously as they do.

They’re also known for their bold publicity stunts, which are indeed fun to watch from a nearby coffee shop. Watching Alexander, Lafayette, and some other friends, John and Herc, run from the authorities on a Sunday afternoon, accidentally laughing at the sight of John tripping over his own feet, Lafayette mouthing ‘help us out’ in my direction. Very entertaining.

On the contrary, their security on me has become tighter and tighter. I know they worry for the gang’s reputation over my safety, but it feels nice to imagine having a battalion of book-worm gang members watching over you.

“I know, I know. You guys can stop treating me like a kid” I attempt to contain a giggle to portray my seriousness.

He takes a glance at me before returning his attention to the road. “You cannot say that until you have another way home other than me.” He sighed rather loudly

“Be careful, or I might do just that, Lafayette.”

---

I sipped on wine and ate cheese at Thomas’s place without a care in the world on a Saturday night. Of course, I had to accept Thomas’s offer, I never knew how to say no to him.

Jefferson has sure been taking his sweet time to put a title on us. Now, I’m no philosopher when it comes to dating, but Ice cream at the park, fancy dinners, and wine and cheese sure sound romantic.

My night was going well. All until the 7:30 alarm on my phone rang, and before I knew it, everything began to go downhill

[events of chapter 1]

And next thing I knew, the cold New York air slapped my face, following the harsh slam of the apartment door.

As my adrenaline began to settle down, panic rushed through my body.

Fuck. At this rate, I won’t be home until after my curfew. Although my immediate instinct was to sprint my way home, those thoughts were quickly followed by the idea of passing out within five minutes. My apartment isn’t too far, but being fueled by wine and cheese doesn’t sound like the best idea.

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N” echoed throughout my head.

I begin to walk down the street before whipping out my phone to contact an Uber.

The small talk produced between my driver and I worked a bit to calm myself down, but that would all change the moment I walked through my apartment door.

Once I turn back around from locking the door, I’m met with exactly what I didn’t want to see at this very moment.

Lafayette stood staring at me, his lips pursed with anxiousness, recognizing my significantly late arrival.

Hercules, another good friend I’ve met through the sons of liberty, stood beside Lafayette. His mouth hung open in shock as he also recognized my mistake.

John, the group’s smallest yet mightiest, leaned against the wall, perhaps planning my fate right in front of me

And none other than Alexander Hamilton himself, sipping scotch on my couch, similarly to how I was not too long ago at Thomas’s place. The glare on his face quickly reminded me that I was in big trouble.

“Y/N, I thought I told you—“ Lafayette began but was quickly interrupted

“You’re late.” He swirled his drink before standing up. The clock ticked, and the hour hand notably passed the 8:30 symbol. I was not getting out of this one.

Although I feared for the following moments, I attempted to contain my emotions within myself. I kept my straight face for the time being. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

“I’m well aware.” That came out of my mouth a little too harsh for my liking

“May I remind you that being out past your curfew could severely damage our image.”

I saw John look over to Alex from the corner of my eye. The air became thinner if that were even possible, and I refused to meet his eyes.

“And I do recall reminding you of your consequences.” He walked towards me and I felt my heart froze. “Having you out so late could raise some suspicions among our competitors, L/N.”

I couldn’t find the right words and resort to nodding instead

“I always fucking told you—“ he harshly slammed his drink onto the table beside him “—not to test the waters—”

“—I-I know—“

“So why the fuck are you stumbling in here past your curfew?”

At this very moment, I wondered if I had pulled the last straw.

I couldn’t speak. God forbid I spat out the wrong words. Contained within my thoughts, I didn’t acknowledge Alexander closing the distance between us.

“Ow!--” I watched as Alex shoved me to the wall, the moment playing in slow motion in my head.

Lafayette’s throat grew dry “Hey, Alex, Calm dow-”

He was interrupted by the sound of Alexander harshly slapping me across the face. My hands quickly went to soothe what felt like fire burning my cheek.

“We do so much for you, Y/N.” Alex growled

The sharp pain in my side grew, almost echoing throughout my body. I could feel my body giving up on itself. I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time Alex has acted like this.

Occasionally, Alex would stop by Lafayette and I’s apartment just to ensure I was home before my curfew, and he wasn’t the most forgiving.

--He owns an apartment key and has every single one of his gang member’s location tracked on his phone. Sometimes I wondered what was so special about us to have to keep all of us in check 24/7--

One time Hercules and I went shopping a little too late after sunset, part of me felt like a reckless teenager, probably because I was. I still remember Alexander’s face when I entered my own apartment, he looks identical every time.

In an attempt to shelter me, my body curled into itself against the wall. I shrunk to the floor, feeling his shadow intensely stand above me.

“Arghh!—“ the sound spilled out of me when I felt Alexander’s shin connect with my rib cage.

My lungs felt punctured under the pressure.

My arms felt like they could give out any second.

Part of me had wished I’d stay at Thomas’s place tonight, even if it meant telling him the truth.

What a predicament I’ve gotten myself into.

I looked up, wondering if my torment was over until I was met with a —Crack— Alexander’s knee encountered my face.

It was only a moment before I could hear the shuffling of the others’ shoes. I prayed they were coming to help me out.

Alexander lifted his glass of alcohol, previously forgotten, and hauled it towards me

Crash!

The piercing shards of glass combining with the stinging alcohol were the last thing I needed on a Saturday night. I didn’t notice the tears falling from my eyes until now, and the way my heart felt like it was just on a rollercoaster.

I kept my head low, watching blood drip down my face and onto the floor below me. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Alex! What the fuck?!” I heard Laurens yell

“Are you trying to kill her?!?” I recognized Lafayette’s scream

Before Alex was able to make another blow, Lauren and Lafayette were quick to hold him back, attempting to calm him down.

Hercules swiftly knelt beside me, the guilt was obvious in his gaze. I hated the pity in each of their glances towards me. He attempted to wipe away the blood from my forehead with a paper towel.

Alexander fought back against the two, trying his best to prove his point. There’s the Hamilton we all know, unwilling to stand down no matter the cost.

Hercules turned back to me, his words were ready to leave his mouth from the moment we reconnected eyes.

“Y/N..” He pulled me up and shoved me out of my apartment door. “..Run.” I almost stumbled into a nearby pole, but I began running, if running in my condition was possible, back to Thomas’s place.

—-

[events of chapter 1]

The next thing I knew, I woke up in Thomas’s bed beside him. I took a moment to soak in the feeling of his satin sheets. Part of me can’t recall the events before I passed out in front of Thomas’s apartment, or maybe my mind refuses to remember them.

The sun hasn’t risen yet.

I turn to my side and reach for my phone, wincing from the pressure applied to my rib cage.

The bright light of my phone hitting my eyes felt like I was transported to another dimension.

54 notifications:

12 calls from Lafayette 🥐

24 texts from Lafayette 🥐

1 text from Alexander 💡

3 calls from Mariah 💋

14 texts from Mariah 💋

“oh fuck..” I sigh, wondering how things will play out.

Out of curiosity, I open the message from Alexander. Perhaps it’s an apology? Maybe a reminder?

Alexander 💡: I know where you are, Y/N. Don’t drag your friend into this. Because I can.

Where I am? I ask myself

My heart dropped, remembering that Alexander tracks my location 24/7. He knows where I am at this very second.

By escaping to Thomas’s apartment, I’ve just dragged him into this mess I’ve made. If my worlds collide, it would all be because I ran to this exact apartment.

Panic once again rushed through my body.

I need to get out of here. I need to leave.

I slip out from under the sheets and grab my belongings. Unprepared for what’s to come, I steal one of Thomas’s jackets from his cluttered desk chair. I’ll give it back eventually, I thought to myself.

After I put on my shoes I take one last glance toward Thomas.

He seems so peaceful when he’s asleep, tangled in his blanket, not to mention his name-brand Mac and cheese pajama pants.

I’m sorry if I drag you into this, Thomas, you just wouldn’t understand.

Taglist <3: @kenmacrumbs @strayblades @laic2299 @ohsoverykeri

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years ago

Text

Bleeding Sunshine

Javier Pena x Reader

Part 1.

So... this was a challenge... to write Consensual non-consent... but then this icky thing called feelings got in the way, so now this is 2 parts.

So theres gonna be: Spanking. Slight jealously. Insecurities. Javi being both rough and soft. You being a brat at times. Feelings getting talked about. Hands tied.

Got the title from this poem that I found forever ago.

It had been a long day of work with the DEA. They had almost caught La Quica and he just barely slipped from their grasps. Your partner and boyfriend, Javier Pena, had left early, leaving you and Steve with the paperwork. Again.

“Did Javi tell you why he decided to cut early and leave us with the paperwork?” Steve asked, filing away his stack.

“Nope. But is it really that odd for him to leave early?” You replied with a shrug, as you stood up, throwing on your jacket.

“I have to stop and pick up dinner for us tonight, tell Connie I said ‘Hi.’ See ya tomorrow,” You said with a wave as you left the office.

You hopped into your car and drove to a local pizza place and picked up 2 large pizzas. Javi tended to devour most of a pizza pie by himself, leaving you with only one slice far too often.

Once the pizza was ready, it was a fairly short distance to the Embassy apartments. While you had your own apartment, you spent a vast majority of your time in Javi’s once the two of you began dating a year ago.

While dating him was amazing most of the time, there were times that you were doubtful and didn’t believe this relationship would last long. For example, you still had to deal with the issue of his informants and while you weren’t necessarily happy with the arrangement, you also knew that it was for the job. You dealt with it, even though you hated it.

You made your way to his apartment and used your spare key to open his door. You stopped in your tracks when you saw him.

“Please. Please, do not tell me you cut out early just to go fuck a hooker?” You asked, slightly annoyed taking in his appearance.

He sat on his loveseat, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, a cigarette hanging between his fingers. The Look as you once called it, when your relationship began.

“No. Don’t get your panties in such a twist,” Javier grumbled, tapping the cigarette ash off into the tray on the side table.

Your eyes narrowed at him slightly, as you walked past him, to set the food on the kitchen table.

You began to grab plates and such when Javier called for your attention and waved you over to him.

You looked at him as you slowly walked back over to him and stood before him.

He patted his lap, enticingly, silently asking you to take a seat.

“Mh. No. I hate this couch. I know what you do on it,” You respond, crinkling your nose in slight disgust.

He sighed loudly and commanded, “Get. On. My. Damn. Lap.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, but did as he wished, wondering where this was heading.

You straddle his hips and gently situate yourself on his lap.

“You remember your safe word?” he whispered to you as he took his last drag of his cigarette, before putting it out.

“…mangos? What are we?” You asked slightly confused as to where this was heading.

He then proceeded to reach up and rip your shirt straight down the middle, buttons flying everywhere.

“Javi! I just bought that!” You exclaimed, smacking his chest with the back of your hand.

“Hm. Don’t care. I’ll buy you a new one,” He offered carelessly as he began to kiss your neck, nipping lightly.

You rolled your eyes at his response, and said, “How? It was limited.”

“Shut up, querida,” He mumbled into your neck as his hands ripped the rest of your blouse off, throwing it somewhere.

“Javi. The pizza’s going to get cold,” You complained as he began to unbutton your pants.

“That’s why they invented the microwave, sweet cheeks. Now. Imma tell you one last time,” He growled as he grabbed your chin to look him in the eyes. “Shut. Up.”

You blinked in response and opened your mouth to say something else, but Javi decided to land a firm slap on your ass.

He raised an eyebrow, daring you to react, as his hand hovered near your backside, threatening to do it again.

You took that challenge, and stood up, turning toward the kitchen and to go eat.

Javier shook his head and grabbed you by the back of your pants, pulling you back.

“Oh? Going to be a brat, eh?” He said, disapproval lacing his tone. “Hm. Let me see if I can beat that out of you. Undress.”

You crossed your arms and looked away, ignoring him.

He sighed then and scooted forward a bit, looking up at you with annoyance.

He then proceeded to rip off his belt, twisting you around, and tied your hands together.

“Javi!” You exclaimed, wiggling your arms and hands, trying to break free.

He ripped your pants down, gently guiding you to bend over, and he commanded, “Count them out.”

He spanked you harshly and waited.

“One,” You whispered, not wanting to admit that this was turning you on. You always enjoyed it when he was rougher in bed. Made it more exciting; the mind-blowing orgasms were a plus.

“Louder,” He corrected you, slapping your ass again.

“Two,” You said louder, breathing getting heavier as arousal began to flood your mind.

This continued on until you reached 10 finally, and his hands softly soothed over the enflamed skin.

“Now. Are we going to be a good girl? Or are you going to continue being a brat?” He questioned lightly.

You whimpered in response, trying to calm yourself as both pain and pleasure saturated your brain.

“What was that?” He asked turning you back to him.

You took some deep breaths, in an attempt to get yourself under control.

After a moment you jokingly narrow your eyes at him and let out a breathy, “Ow.”

He chuckled, gently bringing you back to his lap. “I didn’t hear you complaining. In fact, I bet if I were to touch your panties they’d be soaked.”

His hands began massaging your thighs as he lightly pressed kisses to your chest. This usually made you want to be brattier or just give into his ministrations. However, for whatever reason, you were suddenly not as into this as you were a moment ago. Especially when you saw out of the corner of your eye, an old cigarette butt that had lipstick stains on it; you didn’t smoke.

You stared down at his short messy curls, biting your lips, thinking.

‘Why is this man with me? I’m such a mess. I mean why else would he still be seeing his favorites from the brothel? He clearly doesn’t want-‘

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” He asked pulling away, one of his hands cupping your face.

You opened your mouth to answer but found you didn’t know what to say, so you closed it.

Javier stared at you for a long moment and noticed the small glances to the ashtray you made. His eyes briefly roved over to it and realized what it was you were looking at.

“Does the thought of me being with a hooker bother you that much?” He guessed, his voice low, his movements stopping.

You don’t answer immediately. You chewed on your bottom lip harshly before sighing heavily.

“I understand… that you do it for work… but it also makes me wonder why you even bother to be with me, when you have all of them,” You admitted.

“What if…. What if I told you… that I haven’t slept with any of them… in months? That I’ve just been paying them for their information?” He hesitantly asked.

“Wh- Really? Why?” You stammered in confusion.

“Because I have you,” He answered plainly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You looked at him shocked, your mouth dropping open and you fully expected him to say that he was joking. But after a full minute of him just staring at you softly, you knew he wasn’t, which made you smile and look down.

He tilted your chin back up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Let’s go eat, yeah?” He offered with a half-smile.

“What happened to the whole ‘that’s what microwaves are for’ thing?” You teased.

“I want your full attention, when I rail you into next week my love. I don’t want there to be any doubts or thoughts that I don’t care about you. Plus, I can hear your stomach growling and it’s quite distracting,” He joked, his hands flying up to protect his face as you grabbed a pillow and whacked him with it.

“You’re such a jerk! I can’t help it! I’m hungry,” You tried to say sternly but kept laughing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your forehead resting against his. You wanted to tell him you loved him, but the last time you did that he refused to speak to you for a week. So, you were quiet, and pressed small kisses to his lips.

The sweet moment was ruined when your stomach growled. Loudly. You pulled away, closing your eyes, and scrunching your face up in mild embarrassment.

“So. Pizza? And whatever’s on TV?” You proposed trying to move away from this awkward moment.

“Yeah. Bring me a couple of slices, please?” He politely asked with a chuckle, turning the TV on.

You filled both plates up pizza, grabbed beers for the both of you, and some napkins.

Javier moved from the loveseat to the sofa and you handed him his half, before curling into his side.

“Do you really think Veronique killed Paolo or do you think it was Marie?” You asked as your (and Javi’s, though he would never admit it) favorite telenovela came on.

“It was definitely Veronique. It’s always the spouse,” Javier argued back, taking a sip of beer.

“C’mon. They just had the baby! Marie’s always been jealous of Veronique!” You exclaimed in response, taking a large bite.

“I guess we shall find out then, won't we?” Javier shrugged devouring half a slice in seconds.

The two of you spent the next hour eating and watching the episode.

When it ended you looked at Javi smugly, “I told you so.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and cleaned up the mess they made while eating. He returned to the living room and picked you up, taking you to his bed.

You lightly giggled at the action, shaking your head.

When the both of you were in bed, the lights out, he pulled you close to him. He was on his side and you on your back. He gently brushed your hair out of your face, he whispered something to you then.

Three words that you hadn’t expected. Three words that you had accepted were never going to come from him, at least not in the traditional sense. Hell, he said it so quietly, you could almost have believed that you misheard him.

“I love you.”

You whispered it back, as he kissed you firmly on the lips. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and you turned on your side to do the same, and the both of you fell into a deep sleep. Best sleep the both of you ever had in a long while.

#Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #a whiplash of emotions #was full on prepared to write utter filth #then emotions took the wheel away from hormones #and here we are

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stickyhoney · 4 years ago

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Title: Fugitives

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: You have fled with the war criminal Steve Rogers, known as Captain America, to a small village in the north of France. After months of hiding, tensions and feelings have peaked.

A/N: This will be my first multi-chapter work, so be patient with me please. Also seeing all your comments and messages makes me so happy, so keep them coming ;)

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Adult Language, Sexual Tension, fluff

Chapter One:

“Would you give it a rest already?!” The wooden door cracked against the hinges after your strong push. The echoes of the door hitting against the wall reverberated strongly throughout the small cottage that the two of you had called home for the past 3 months. Steve was strict on not using the word “home” however, even though America had turned its back on him, he could never call another country home.

“How many times have I told you?! We can’t talk to the locals!” His voice boomed against the confines of the kitchen. You could feel the vibrations of his steps under your feet. His stomps rivaled an elephant’s when he was angry.“You get to talk to the men in the village everyday! All I did was introduce myself to the women in the square.” Your tone leveled out by the end of your defense. You remembered you shouldn't have to defend your actions.

You were both knocking your boots off onto the floor, leaving dirt all around the doormat. Old hardened clumps of clay remained from workdays past, blades of grass from the garden out back. Steve hung his dark ballcap on the hook by the door, with a sharp snapping motion. “Do you think I choose to spend my time out there with those men? I do that to make sure we survive. Those are purely professional relationships, they know nothing of me other than my ability to split wood with my hands.”

Flashbacks back to Clint’s family farm make your heart warm for a brief moment. The sound of his children squealing with joy, calling you auntie, haunted your memories. You let your hair down, shaking it until it falls to your shoulders. “Why can’t I work in the village like you do? Steve… I haven’t spoken to anyone other than you for months. I can’t keep on this way.” Your mind and heart were exhausted from these past months. You had left everything you had ever known behind, and adopted the moniker of “war criminal”. The feeling of isolation had been beating the both of you down, Steve was just better at coping.

“You act like you have a choice.” His voice was flat, his tone cold. Sometimes it startled you how much Steve had changed, he was nowhere near the sweetheart he once was. He was now a rugged, hardened, survivor. The long sigh you let out signaled defeat, at least for tonight.

Dinner was the only time you could convince Steve to relax. It had been your secret mission to give you two a piece of home through food, even if you didn’t always know what you were doing. Tonight was spaghetti night, Steve’s favorite. Gathering ingredients in the garden had become an unspoken tradition between you. It was all so domestic, picking tomatoes from the vines and clipping parsley from the herb garden in the kitchen window. Your small garden and patio had become your haven from the daunting trials of your new normal.

The wooden spoon dragged through the thick marinara sauce you had made, causing whirls of hot steam to rise up to your nostrils. The comforting aroma filled the cramped cottage, every nook and cranny had been permeated with tomato and parsley. Behind you, feet dragged on the tiles towards you. “Huh, smells pretty good.” Your lips pull up into a faint smile, a giggle rises from your chest. “You sound surprised.” You turned around with the large pot of sauce to find Steve within a foot of you, causing your hands to release the pot. Steve’s arms quickly react and catch the pot inches from the ground, small drops of sauce splashing out onto the tiles. “God Steve! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” You drop down onto your knees with a towel to clean up the mess, somewhat embarrassed at your jumpiness. Ever since that night… it had been getting worse.

“I can’t fucking help you get scared so easy!” You rose back up to him, trying to keep your embarrassment hidden. “I’m sorry, I- I can’t help it.” You tried to sound strong, but your words came out timid and meek. Steve’s eyes softened after realizing what he had said, realization hitting his features. Pity was never something you wanted from anyone, especially him. “[y/n]...” His hand reaches for your elbow, in a sympathetic gesture. Tears began to well up, your face was reddening, so you moved your body away from his. Acting like everything was normal when nothing was, it was a lifestyle for the both of you. Dinner went by normally, with only a few words said, most of which were grunts of satiated hunger.

“Ice cream?” Your eyebrow kicked up inquisitively, even though you already knew the answer. Steve was a sucker for ice cream, especially this certain kind you picked up from a vendor in the village. It was made from the woman's fresh blueberry patch. You made sure to keep a carton in the freezer. Steve places a hand over his non-existent food baby, and grunts. “You know I do.”

You struggle to stand after downing three full plates of spaghetti and two bowls of salad. “I’ve never seen a woman eat as much as you do. It’s unnatural.” You sat the carton down on the counter, and began to take bowls out. “Did you see Nat eat? She could eat a house full of food in one go.” You were giggling through the last few words until you looked back, a cold Steve with a deadpan expression. He always goes blank when the past comes into conversation.

“We’ve gotta let the ice cream thaw…” You skated across the tile floors in your socks, towards the living room. You wanted to get his mind off things, he had been a jerk lately. Even when Steve Rogers was mad at the world, he had never been so coarse with you. There was one thing you knew that Steve loved… even if it was a hundred years ago.

Your fingers picked up the needle and lifted it across and down onto the black vinyl record. The cottage came with an old vinyl record player, it was hidden under an old white sheet in the corner of the living room. Steve never paid it any mind since it had been broken, but you had secretly been fixing it for the past month. The faint buzz of the needle connecting to the moving record reverberated through the silent house.

“Strangers in the night,

Exchanging glances

Wandering the night,

What were the chances

We'd be sharing love

Before the night was through”

Frank Sinatra’s sultry voice carried you back into the kitchen. When you entered Steve had stood up and stood so rigid, that he reminded you of a soldier standing at attention. “What’s that look for?” You had bent over in pain from trying to contain your laughter. He looked as if his commander walked into the room. “What are you doing playing that music?” You knew he loved Sinatra, probably because it transported him to a simpler time when he knew all the answers. Get the bad guys, defend your country, get the girl.

You stood back up, jokingly going expressionless, and standing more rigid than a wooden board. “Well soldier, I was anticipating doing some dancing.” You tapped the back of your heels together and stuck your arm out towards him as an invitation.

“Something in your eyes

Was so inviting

Something in your smile

Was so exciting

Something in my heart

Told me I must have you”

“I don’t dance [y/n]. You know that.” His body began to decompress, the tensity of his limbs dissipating, his eyes lowering. You purse your lips into a playful pout, and place your palms out as if you were a beggar. “C’mon, make a girl happy. I’m sure you’ve got some move in you.” Steve breathed out a long sigh, and ran his hand back through his long dirty blonde hair. “C’mon, I promise I won’t bite…”

You step in closer to him, your hands reaching for his wrists. He meets you halfway, stepping towards you. “I might be rusty.” Your left hand guides his around your waist while the right holds his out beside you upright. You chuckle under your breath knowing he was lying, he took charge and led the dance.

“Strangers in the night

Two lonely people

We were strangers in the night

Up to the moment

When we said our first hello

Little did we know

Love was just a glance away

A warm embracing dance away”

After a few moments, you laid your head on his chest. The coarse material scratched against your cheek, but was soothed by the heat this man was radiating. He was like a damn furnace. His hands were worn from the daily manual labor that kept a roof over your head. Steve began humming along to the chorus, his deep vibrato sending vibrations through his chest. You couldn’t help but bask in his scent. His must and leather jacket mixed for a lovely combination, one that had become ingrained in your being. You knew he didn’t like using the word home, but he had become yours.

Your free hand wrapped around his back pulling him in closer, your thumb tracing circles. It was the untold promise between you, keep things friendly. The promise was becoming harder and harder to keep, but the both of you knew why it was important to keep. Silence passed between you for a few minutes. "Thank you for this [y/n]."

The vinyl record fades into silence, the only thing the two of you were swaying to was the sound of the wind whistling through the weeping willows branches out front. "Oh the ice cream!" You jump out of his embrace and run towards the carton on the counter, the blueberry ice cream had turned to a thin consistency. "Noooo whyyyyyy" you cried out as dramatically as you could. You turned back to see that Steve was gone, and heard his bedroom door shut quietly across the house.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #nomad steve #steverogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #rpf #marvel

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babybottlepop96 · 3 years ago

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Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story.

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them.

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-"

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!"

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings.

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

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jtrbluv · 5 years ago

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need(y) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst/fluff

word count: 3.6k

warnings: swearing

request: Hello!! Could I get a jungkook angst/fluff imagine where you guys are becoming distant and you leave for some space and he doesn’t know and thinks that you left him?? Sorry if it’s confusing, thank youuuu :)

a/n: sheesh! this was not supposed to be this long HAHA. sorry this took so long to write school just started and it’s fr kicking my ass. i’ve already gotten so much hw for the first week grrrr. i rushes the ending a bit so i’m not quite satisfied and i didn’t edit it either so um sorry about it LOL. anyways thanks for requesting this anon!! in honor of his bday too ig haha, hope u enjoy it :)

☏ ☏ ☏

Missed Calls:

y/n <3 (11)

6:45- lmk when ur coming home i can’t wait to see you <33

8:30- u must be busy at the studio it’s okay i’ll wait

9:47- hey it’s okay if ur coming late but could u just give me a heads up

11:02- jungkook?

12:17- happy belated anniversary to you too ig

1:56- i needa stop getting my hopes up huh

Being in a relationship with a worldwide famous idol is never easy. Learning to understand and appreciate the value of the relationship regardless of its limited-time came easy to you. That’s one of the reasons why he became interested in you in the first place. You never came off as overbearing and clingy and you always understood why things had to be different. And that added to the list of things he already absolutely adored about you.

It had been a year since Jungkook had confessed to you backstage that night, asking you to be his lover and promising that he would cherish you like no one ever will. And you can confidently say he very much did at the beginning, commonly known as the honeymoon stage. Things only started to fizzle out and go downhill a few months ago. His group was scheduled for a new comeback. He was promoting and traveling around the world while you were on the sidelines and comfort of your home, cheering him and his group on. Daily texts and calls kept both of you grounded and steady, but as time passed by, those texts and calls ceased to exist. You had been constantly ignored and you didn’t think much of it at first, after all, he was a busy man with a busy schedule. The tour had finally been coming to an end and he’d have the opportunity to come home to you, just in time for your one year anniversary. He had flown in 2 weeks precedent to your anniversary, and fuck, you were so happy to be with him again.

He had made a promise to you that you two would get to spend a lot more time together as he was coming back. You two had finally been living together again after what seemed like years as his group had gotten a break after such a hectic year. He would go to his company need to work on future projects and such and it didn’t bother you at first. He would typically come back home late while you were sleeping and leave early in the morning before you would wake up. As it occurred more frequently, you started to become more concerned. He was finally home for once and he wasn’t even making time to see you. You didn’t want to seem annoying and clingy so you decided to push these thoughts to the back of your head and keep them to yourself.

You had agreed to have a celebration at home, figuring all the restaurants in the vicinity would be closed by the time he’d get home. You patiently waited in the living room, coffee table filled with his favorite foods and snacks you were able to pick up at the local convenience store. He had told you the night before he’d be coming home at 9, a little later than you liked, but you let it slide nonetheless. You essentially cherished all the time you had with him anyway, whether it be a minute, an hour, or a month.

You mindlessly sat in the living room, not paying attention to whatever was playing on the TV. Your ears were constantly alert and peeled, waiting for a familiar car to pull up to your driveway. Your eyes constantly shifted back to your front window, scanning the neighborhood to see if he was back yet or not.

Time ticked by like molasses, your patience and tolerance wavering as it went on. There were no signs of him and he wasn’t answering any of your calls and texts. You were in complete disbelief at the fact that he didn’t have the decency to spend time with you on your first anniversary. Everything you had been holding in was starting to seep out of you, anger and sadness fuming from your system as you ask yourself the same question: Why do you constantly put yourself in this situation? Being hopeful for something just to let it get torn down again. Is that what your relationship has turned into? An insurmountable lost hope?

For the first time, you realized all you’ve been doing his abiding by him, waiting for his cues, going off of his beck and call. You were being walked all over, and you didn’t realize until that moment. For the first time, you were fed up.

You groan in frustration as you snatch your phone from the coffee table. It was 2:34 AM. You furrow your brows as you see how late it is, and how many hours it’s been since he was supposed to come home. Your emotions took control of you as you hastily shut off the TV, charging into your room as you recklessly grab one of your backpacks and stuff random clothes into it. You grab the nearest hoodie you could find and slipped it on as you grabbed your wallet, keys, and phone. You abruptly halt at the doorway, deciding to write a small note for him before you left. What were the chances he would see it anyway?

I need some time alone to think. Please do not contact me during this time. -Y/N

You stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind you. You quickly started your car and pulled out of your driveway and into the streets. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just didn’t want to stay in that house any longer. The streets were empty and the sky was dull and overcast. You let the streets guide you, taking whatever twist and turn you happened to encounter. Your hands were gripped tightly along the steering wheel as tears slipped out of your eyes. You quickly wipe them away as you recalibrate your focus on the road ahead of you. You decided it’d be best to stay at a hotel for now, until you could think of a better solution to all of this. You were able to find a hotel that had lower rates since you literally bought it on the spot.

You checked into the hotel and quickly escaped to your room. You throw your backpack to the floor as you lower yourself into the cold, unfamiliar sheets of the bed. You contemplate your options. As much as you didn’t want to admit, all your actions leading up to that moment had been caused by pent up rage and frustration in the heat of the moment. In spite of that, you didn’t regret what you had done. It felt as if time had frozen and it would only continue once Jungkook became aware of what you had done. So you were going to wait.

Jungkook stumbled into the home, hair disheveled and vision blurry from his near sleepless night. While working at the studio he had unknowingly fallen asleep while working on a track. All of his members had already gone back home so there was no one to wake him up or remind him of his girlfriend that was waiting patiently back home for him, ready to celebrate a long-awaited and special day.

All traces of the anniversary had slipped his mind as soon as he slid into a deep slumber back at the studio. He trudges around the house and his eyes land on the organized display of snacks on the coffee table. His eyes shift to the blanket and pillow that you two tended to share was all crumpled on the couch. The lightbulb immediately lit in his mind as he put the pieces together and his eyes widen in absolute horror. He had forgotten your anniversary.

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid!” he exclaims, the tone of disbelief in his voice increasing as he realizes his mistake.

“Y/N!” he cries out to you as he runs around the house, searching in all the rooms to see if you were there. He almost forgets the phone that laid in his back pocket until he takes it out, hoping to call you in hopes that you would respond. His phone lights up only to show how indecently late he was, 5:43 a.m, and the amount of missed calls and texts from you, the disappointment and dejection he sensed from you increasing as he read each text you sent to him. His jaw dropping incredulously as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep exhale.

“Fuck, what have I done?” he huffs out, his voice small and full of somber. The fact that he had forgotten a day as important as this was already encompassing his mind but more so, he couldn’t find you and it deeply startled him, he didn’t know where you were and where you could be at this hour. He walks back into the living room where he assumes you had been waiting and his focus shifts to the kitchen where he notices a small notepad and pen along with a torn piece of paper that seemed to have something inscribed on it. He squints as he walks towards the kitchen. He took the paper in his hands as he immediately recognizes your handwriting and his breath hitches as he reads your name. His feet stay rooted to the wooden tile of the kitchen as he freezes there with the paper in his hands. Dumbfounded was an understatement to whatever Jungkook had felt at that moment in time. A tear had involuntarily slid down his cheek. Was this it? Was this the end? Were you going to leave him and never come back? These were only a few out of the heap of questions that were running through his head. All he knew was that he needed to find you. And he needed to fix the mess he had just made.

Similar to you he had bolted out of the house and drove off, unaware of where you actually were but he figured if he had searched for long enough, he would be able to find you.

You had slept deep into the day, finally getting up only because you started to notice the consistent vibrations that came from your bedside table. Naturally, you figured it was Jungkook, you didn’t tell anyone else of your whereabouts since it was so sporadic and you certainly didn’t feel like conversing or informing anyone of your situation. Out of curiosity and the annoying blare of your phone, you decide to see who it is anyway. Much to your surprise, your best friend Seulgi’s beaming smile flashed on your phone screen as you pick up.

“Seulgi, hi,” your voice manages to croak out as you adjust to the sunlight peeking out of your window.

“Y/N, where the hell are you?” she immediately asks, you can basically hear the frown lines etched into her forehead.

You groan into the mic of your phone as you speak back, “Seulgi, I can explain-”

“Jungkook’s been looking for you all night and asking everyone where you are,” she cuts you off.

“Seulgi,” you exhale, trying to suppress your anger, “he forgot our anniversary.”

“Oh my god.” she gasps, “you’re joking.”

“Did he not tell anyone?!” you shriek into the phone.

“No! He just said you left and he was looking for you and he was really scared and he even sounded like he was on the verge of tears and once I said I didn’t know where you were he just hung up!” she rambles on and on.

“Okay, yeah, he forgot and I got mad and I left,” you reveal, voice barely over a whisper.

“Y/N, I don’t blame you,” she reassures you, voice softening, “but, I think you should confront him about this.”

“Yeah, I know. I just needed some time to cool off and think.”

“Well, do you plan on breaking up with him?” she speaks timidly.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to. I want to hear what he has to say.” you stutter, your mind in a complete frenzy.

“Hasn’t he been paying less attention to you these last couple of months?” she asks, “I rarely see you two go out anymore.”

“Yeah cuz we really don’t,” you confirm. “He’s been so focused on his career which I understand but, sometimes it just feels like he doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that he has a girlfriend.”

“Then why haven’t you told him that.”

“I don’t want to seem like the type of girlfriend to hold him back from doing what he loves. He’s invested so much time into his career.”

“Y/N, obviously not telling him how you feel has resulted in this mess. And okay, before you attack me, if he doesn’t have the decency to spend time with his girlfriend every once in a while then he doesn’t deserve your time and energy in the first place,” she advises you.

“I know that Seulgi, that’s all I’ve been thinking about all night.”

“Then talk to him Y/N,” she softly mutters, “for the sake of your relationship with him.”

You hum in agreement but as you’re about to hang up she interjects, “Okay, but just remember, I’ll support whatever decision you make next. I know you’re wise enough to know what you deserve and what’s best for the two of you. Always here for you Y/N.”

“I don’t know where I’d be without you Seulgi. I’ll update you. I’ll head out now.” you smile into the phone.

“You got this Y/N!” she cheers as you hang up.

You had clear intentions on your mind but you couldn’t help but feel anxious and uncertain about what was to happen between you and Jungkook.

jungkook, i’m in sunset central hotel. if you want to talk, come here as soon as you can. Thanks.

Jungkook’s eyes widen to the size of saucers as soon as he saw your name flash onto his screen. He redirects his GPS to the hotel you were at, a 45-minute drive. He didn’t care, he just needed to find you.

You waited at the foot of your bed, feeling extremely uneasy about the whole confrontation. Your foot was constantly tapping on the wooden floors, as you played with your hands and glance back at your phone to check the time.

Jungkook finally reaches his destination as he surges through the front doors of the hotel, asking the front desk if you were still staying over. The front desk had called you and informed you that someone had come to see you and if it was okay for them to come over. You hesitantly obliged, cowering every time you heard Jungkook answering whatever questions he was required to answer.

It never really registered through Jungkook’s mind that he was supposed to talk to you. He just planned on spilling his heart out and hoping it would be enough for your forgiveness and just being able to hold you in his arms again.

He takes his time getting to your room. His movements are lethargic and hesitant, taking the time to gather his thoughts. He reaches the floor your room is on as he steps out of the elevator and scans the area to find where your room would be. He slowly walks as he sees your room number, he knocks softly at the door, staring at his shoes.

Your head snaps to the sound of his knocks, you take a deep breath as you stand up and slowly creak open the door. You don’t even bother to try to share any eye contact as you widen the door and motion him to come in.

“Y/N,” he begins, eyes still focused on the floor, “I’m,” he exhales, “I’m so sorry.” He slowly tilts his head up, analyzing your body language. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your eyes shifted back and forth to everything but Jungkook. You could feel his stare burning into you but dismissed it.

“Is that-,” you mutter, “is that all you came here to say to me?

“No!” he interrupts, causing you to flinch. His face softens at your reaction, “I- I fell asleep while working on a song and lost track of time.”

Your jaw clenches at his statement as you take a moment to let what he had told you sink in, “And that makes it all okay?”

“No, of course, it doesn’t-”

“Jungkook, we were supposed to spend this time together with each other. You’re on an actual break for once and you’d still rather dedicate all your time to it instead of spending time with me. All your other members have been going on trips, seeing family, hanging out with friends,” you huff out, glaring at him as he looks at his shoes, “do I not matter to you anymore?”

Your last statement almost made him meltdown right there on the spot. The fact that he had made you believe that he didn’t care about you at all was already bad enough as it is.

He takes a step towards you and looks you straight in the eye, “No, Y/N,” he sighs in exasperation, trying to piece together what he was going to say, “we’ve just been getting so much publicity and gaining so much popularity and fame, I feel like they expect so much from us. And from me. I’m the Golden Maknae, I have to be good at everything and be able to do anything, but in reality, nothing’s working out and I’ve just been stressed as hell and wanting to see you.”

“I’ve never left Jungkook until yesterday, I’ve always been there waiting,” you reveal slowly, “and I really always want to be here for you. Ever since the tour, you stopped contacting me and I just thought you were busy but in the back of my mind, I started thinking that you just didn’t care anymore.”

“But I do, I always did.” he says, taking a step towards you.

“You haven’t proven otherwise, and I don’t want to reach this breaking point just so we can be happy and go through this all over again.” your voice cracks.

“I know, I don’t want that either, but, if this was bothering you for so long, why couldn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Do I really have to remind my own boyfriend to spend time with me?” you scoff as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean that, I mean we’ve never had any problems in our relationship up until now, and now that I’m thinking about it, you could’ve told me off and broke up with me a long time ago, but you never told me when you had any problems with me. Yes, I know the things I did were stupid as fuck but Y/N, being in a relationship while balancing my career is still new to me. I’m absolutely clueless and stupid and I need you to guide me so I can be there for you.”

“I-,” you sighed heavily, “I didn’t want to intrude. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

“Hey, I’m always willing to give up time for you.” his responds as his eyes soften, “I know it sure as hell may not seem like it, but you shouldn’t prioritize my needs or whatever you think my needs are over yours. Now I’ve just been taking advantage of your leniency. How did I not notice? Fuck, I’m such a dumbass.”

You honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, you knew what you were doing was selfless and you were extremely patient about it all, “I just figured that was the last thing you wanted you know, another thing to worry about on top of your career.”

“I thought about that at first too,” he agreed, biting his lip, “I realized later on that it really shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I care about you too much to let that happen and the more I got to know you, I realized that, well, you were worth it.”

You could feel his intense glare without even sparing him a glance, “Am I still worth it to you?”

You feel his hand envelop your own as steps towards you once again, “You always will be.”

“You’re making it really hard for me to keep being mad at you,” you huff, tightening your grip around his hand.

He noticed the fact that you were still avoiding eye contact and you remained distant. He tugs on your hand and pulls you close to him, breaking your personal barrier. He pulls you into a warm hug, something you both had craved for so long. The longing and acceptance for one another was mutual, but where were you two supposed to do from there on out?

He loosens his hold on you and pulls away slightly, “Are we okay?”

For the first time that day your eyes met his as you replied, “Yeah, we’re okay.”

Only time would tell.

MASTERLIST

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #294

“maybe it’s not too late to learn how to love and forget how to hate”

Is your bed big enough for two people? Yes. What is your favorite board game? I like Battleship. Have you ever been hospitalized for more than 2 weeks? I think one stay at the psych hospital stretched over two weeks, maybe three. I don't remember. When was the last time you heard someone scream? Irl, probably at some point visiting my sister's family and my baby niece was upset. If you include via audio, a couple days ago when watching Egoraptor's Kingdom Hearts 2 stream. He's a Loud Boy. Who was the last person to call you baby? I have no clue. Why did you last go to the airport? I was going home from Sara's. Have you ever showered with another person? Not since I was a little kid with my sister. Is there something you are keeping a secret from your parents? I mean, nothing major. There are small things I don't tell them, though. Are you able to forget people easily? FUCK to the NO. What disgusts you about bathrooms? Sharing a toilet with literally anybody. Have you ever had gum stuck in your hair? I mean maybe at some point, but I don't think so. What was the shortest amount of time you’ve known someone before you’ve dated them? If you’ve never been in a relationship before, do you watch Scrubs? I knew Jason maybe two/three weeks before he asked me out. We clicked so damn fast. Don’t you hate it when people talk about their relationships constantly? It can become a bit much. I have (had?) a friend who did this profusely to the point it was pretty impossible to have an actual conversation, and then she fell off the face of the planet. Being in love is an absolutely amazing thing, but like... that's not all you can talk about. Do you enjoy old movies? Yeah, there are some great ones. Do your neighbors annoy you in any way? Someone a few houses down has a dog that NEVER shuts the fuck up. I don't know how it doesn't lose its voice. What was the last party you were invited to? A Halloween party hosted by my friend Summer a few years ago. It was a good time. Are you honestly happy with your life right now? N O P E Do you find it fun to pray for people? I don't pray, but even if I did, "fun" seems like the wrong word. Generally when you pray for someone, there's something negative going on in their life, so like... I think "fulfilling" is maybe a better word? Has your mom ever crocheted you a blanket? My mom has deadass been working on a massive blanket since she was in her 20s (maybe even a tad younger), and she's at the tail end of her 50s. She works on it less than once in a blue moon. She started with the intention of passing it onto her kids. Do you regret letting a certain guy slip away? Debatable. It's questionable if I ever would have gotten competent help without Jason leaving, and if I didn't, what if he finally had enough when we were already married with kids (that's what I wanted at the time, anyway)? That would have broken me even worse. What show did you want to be on as a kid? Whatever the Nickelodeon one was where you got slimed lol. Do you have regrets? Of course I do. Does anyone really know you? My mom and Sara, at least. What song do you want played at your wedding? It depends on my partner and songs we consider special. Are you a fan of Taylor Swift? No. I do, however, love me some "Love Story." And you are LYYYYYYINNNNNGGGG if "Picture To Burn" doesn't make you feel like a Bad Bitch. Would you ever dye your hair unicorn colors? I would DIIIIIEEEEE to do that in pastel tints. I wish my damn hair took color well... I have literally only had ONE very effective hair dyeing experience, when my friend spent hours turning it red. It stuck for MONTHS. List 3 of your pet peeves. 1.) Turning tragedy into a competition; 2.) making mental illnesses "trendy;" and 3.) elitists of pretty much anything. Do you type fast? Very. What do you like to put on your pancakes? Typically just maple syrup, but I'll put butter on them if given it at a restaurant. Have you ever accidentally drank spoiled milk? I've taken a sip and immediately realized and spat it out. Have you ever had your heart broken? More like shattered into incalcuable pieces. When you were 3, was your natural hair color the same as it is now? No, I was dirty blonde. Have you ever received a scary message from someone online? Yes, I'm pretty sure. What does your first name rhyme with? "Infamy" is close enough, ig, if we're excluding other names. Do you have freckles on your face? No. I did as a kid, though. Who is your favorite Lisa Frank character? Probably the angel kitty (I had a coloring book, even), but they're all SO pretty. I love Lisa Frank stuff. Does your family always have your back? My mom and dad do, at least. My older sister does, meanwhile it's hard to tell with my little sister. She's not very affectionate and expressive of love to the point I question a lot if she even likes me. What type of wedding do you want to have? Gothic! Are you more of a leader or a follower? A follower, within reason. I'm definitely not a blind one. Do you know anyone with a profession in law? Quite a few, actually. Have you ever Googled yourself? Yeah, at some point. Do you have a regular vacation spot, or do you always go somewhere new? We don't really go on vacations. It's not an expense Mom can really afford. Where were you working 10 years ago? Nowhere. ... 5 years ago? Still nowhere. ... 1 year ago? Nowhere. What's the shortest amount of time you've had between relationships? Like a day. I know it sounds bad, but I left Girt already knowing I loved Sara, and I didn't really have anything to heal from. As a child, what comfort foods did your parents make for you when you were sick with a cold or flu? We'd have Saltines, chicken noodle soup (which I never really liked), and ginger ale. What's your favorite art style? Probably hyperrealistic fantasy stuff. What time period is considered to be your country's 'golden age?' I don't know, I'm not a history buff. Have you ever done LSD? I've never done any drugs. Are any of your coworkers currently out on maternity/paternity leave? N/A What is your favorite parody movie? Maybe the Paranormal Activity one. I barely remember it, though. What kind of first impression do you hope others have of you? That I'm kind and friendly and really care about their feelings. Do you have a good sense of balance? NOOOOOOOOOO. I stray like a motherfucker when I walk. Have for many years. It's weird. What is your least favorite ice cream flavor? Strawberry, ugh. Does your car have heated seats? No. What's something that has been in your local news lately? I don't watch it. What's your favorite internet meme? Oh, I have no clue, I love memes lmao. What is the strangest pizza topping you've ever eaten? Nothing, really. I'm not very adventurous with pizza. Can you name any books or movies where all the main characters die? Not off the top of my head. Do you live alone? No, I live with my mother. What’s the grossest thing you’ve encountered in/at a fast food joint? *shrug* Do you swallow chewing gum? No. Do you ever get goosebumps while listening to songs? EXTREMELY easily. Like that is so, so regular, be it from the lyrics, the singer's voice, or just the music. Are there any amusement park rides you refuse to go on? Why? Most, really. I get dizzy way, way too easily and don't want to faint. What is the best roller coaster you’ve ever been on? I'm afraid of roller coasters, so I can't answer this. Never touched one. Don’t you think black jellybeans are icky? Ugh, YES. What was the last thing you measured with a ruler? I helped Mom use the long, flexible kind to measure the couch because she was gonna move some furniture around. What’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen? Oh, I'm sure the mountains when driving to Tennessee. I was too young to remember it well, but I can never forget that I marveled over them. Would you rather have a Playstation or Xbox made console? I'm a Playstation gal. What if you were watching COPS and saw your significant other on there? I'm... not gonna lie, if it was Jason for doing something stupid and not, like, murderous, I'd probably cackle. Have you ever tried to write to any celebrities? No. When was the last time you blew bubbles? I ain't got a clue. Have you ever stumbled across a beehive? More like wasp nests. What food(s) make you cringe? Quite a lot, given my extreme selectiveness with textures. More than anything, probably egg yolk. Have you ever played an automated 20 Questions game and beat it? Ha, I actually had one of those! I have, but damn was that hard. Have you been to a restaurant where they cook the food in front of you? Yup, Ichiban. Pretty cool. Do you feel that presidential campaigns make people too competitive? I mean, no. People care about who is going to be the head of their country. Do you find Family Guy hilarious or offensive? Neither. Do you still write letters to people, even though there’s e-mail now? No. Have you ever had an accident involving a microwave? Ha, I'm a travesty of a cook, so yeah. I remember on one occasion I accidentally dialed in many minutes for popcorn and entirely forgot about it. Safe to say I didn't eat it. I've split hot dogs in there, and I'm certain there's more. Do you like the movie Forrest Gump? I adore that movie. One of the best films ever imo. Can you handle heat well? I honestly doubt you'll meet someone who handles it worse than me, especially physically. I have severe hyperhidrosis, so I will literally sweat like a pig in 70* weather. I absolutely cannot handle it. Do you smoke weed? What are your opinions on its legalization? No. Legalize it for at least medicinal purposes. Have you ever had a school shooting at your school? HA, I can promise you my high school must have at some point. Are you usually the first to do something, or are you more of a follower? I don't pay attention to this. What is your favorite way to eat a potato? Fries, yum. Are roses your favorite flower? No, but they're high on the list. Have you ever been to a horse race? No. I think they're abusive anyway. Do you like lobster? No. Have you ever swam in a lake? Yeah. There's one lake I swam in that was so clear you could see pretty far and just watch the fish and turtles. Have you ever convinced someone to show you their private parts? "Convinced"????? That's fucking coercion. I've seen people naked, but not by fucking pressure. What is the greatest treasure you have ever found? My older sister found a cracked amethyst geode once. Idk where it's at now, but I hope she (or we at the house, depending on where it is) finds it at some point, though. My niece has come to love smooth rocks and pebbles, and I think crystals would blow her away, never mind one that size. Do you eat beef? Regrettably. Are you good at card games? I mean, what's the game? I'm not exceptional at any I can think of. What is your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. Did you ever play the Oregon Trail game? Omg yes!!! I LOVED playing it as a kid, especially the 3rd one, I think? Do you watch It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia? No. Who is your favorite country singer? I actually do enjoy Tim McGraw pretty consistently, but I don't actually seek out his music. Do you know anyone who is Mormon? An old best friend was. Do you like grunge? Yeah. What’s your favorite kind of cheese? American. What’s the most historic thing that has happened in your lifetime? Most likely Covid. What’s your funniest story involving a car? It's not hilarious, but once we were behind someone whose license plate said "omw" lmao. What scientific discovery would change the course of humanity overnight if it was discovered? Well, a proven Covid vaccine. Do you think that humans will ever be able to live together in harmony? Nope. What’s the scariest non-horror movie? Idk. What’s the most amazing true story you’ve heard? I'm not sure. What’s the most awkward thing that happens to you on a regular basis? Having to explain my Mark tribute tattoo lmao. What was one of the most interesting concerts you’ve been to? I've only ever seen Alice Cooper, and while it was great, "interesting" seems like the wrong word. Where are you not welcome anymore? Probably Jason's house, at least not by him. Or Colleen's, probably. Idk how she feels about me by now. What’s the most recent show you’ve binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. What’s a common experience for many people that you’ve never experienced? Paying bills. What’s the smartest thing you’ve seen an animal do? I kid you not, our first cat would look both ways twice before crossing the street across our house. (Please do not allow your cats outside.) She'd do it even more when bringing her kittens there too to hunt. Chance was truly incredible. I could really give a lot of examples of her intelligence. I also had another childhood cat (my favorite before Roman) who would respond to a certain clap pattern I'd do if Mom let me bring him inside. Wherever Charcoal was wandering, he'd come running. What’s the dumbest thing someone has argued with you about? Oh, I'm sure it was RP-related stuff as a kid. What’s the longest rabbit hole you’ve been down? I'unno. What’s the saddest scene in a movie or TV series? Possible spoiler warning for a super old movie??? Probably when the main character of Old Yeller had to put the dog down because of rabies. But I cry like a bitch easily, so maybe there's something that tears me up even more or just as badly. What odd smell do you really enjoy? None that are "odd," really. What’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild? I've seen a mink once when fishing with Dad deep in the woods. What’s the best lesson you’ve learned from a work of fiction? Oh, I don't know. I'd have to think for a while & I don't feel like it. What food do you crave most often? Probably ice cream. Who in your life has the best/worst luck? I don't know about best, but my mom absolutely has the worst luck. Which apocalyptic dystopia do you think is most likely? A meteor, maybe? If you had a HUD that showed three stats about any person you looked at, what three stats would you want it to show? I'd want to know if they were criminals or just dangerous. What’s the funniest thing you’ve seen a kid do? Oh, my niece is so funny. One of the things that gave me the biggest laugh (and was most adorable) was this time I was taking family pictures for Ash at a local lake, and Aubree went running into the gazebo, span around totally like in a princess movie, and exclaimed, "It's enormous!" She is such a darling. If people could read your mind, what would they usually find? Just how bored I am, memories of Jason bc trauma, lamenting my disappointment in myself, "why is Mark so perfect," worrying about Sara, thinking of RP character developments... What celebrity would you like to meet? Mark. 100%. I would die to just thank him (if I could get words out, oof) and hug him and try not to soak his shirt in tears lmao. Do you need money to be happy? Don't bullshit me, you wouldn't be happy homeless because you can't afford a home. So to a degree, yes. What's a good idea you've had recently? Hm. What gift would you like to receive? At this current moment, Cloak's (Mark and Jacksepticeye's clothing brand) limited edition "life after death" design for a shirt. It is so fucking pretty, and I love the nature focus. What are you most excited about right now? Honestly? Getting my laptop back. I wanna play WoW lmao. What's your favorite song from a movie? Maybe uhhhhhh was "Supermassive Black Hole" actually written for Twilight? Where would you like to volunteer? I very, very badly want to volunteer to take pictures of animals up for adoption in shelters for like their social medias and stuff. I've asked like the two local places, but no bites yet. What's the last song you listened to? Metallica's cover of "Turn The Page." What's the last YouTube video you watched? I'm watching Gab Smolders play SOMA. Fantastic game.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''crazy train'' by ozzy osbourne

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searchin-for-an-urchin · 5 years ago

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Like Happiness is in your Reach Aaron Burr x Reader Chapter 11

Tags @fangirlandnerd @ milena-millennium @fangirl570 @studysafeplace @bees-are-more-important

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Masterlist

I’m back (sort of!) I had an insane year, and a few months ago I posted a life updated here BUT I want to start writing more consistently again! I’m also going to try to write for other fandoms too- so hopefully this goes well!

Without further ado, here is chapter 11! I’m thinking a few more chapters. I have a couple more things I want to accomplish in the storyline, but it won’t be long now.

************************************************************

The next morning you’re woken up by your alarm clock. You glance and see the 5:30am flashing and you reach over to hit the off button. Before you could groan about getting up to take your daughter to school, you hear three identical groans from around you. You smile sleepily and start to wake Charlotte up by gently shaking her. When you see her smile, you sweetly say,

“Come on, Charlotte. Time to get ready for school.” You reach over and lightly tap Peggy and John as you climb out of bed. “Time for work, you two.” Normally, you hate waking up early, especially when you only got four hours of sleep anyway. However, this morning, you didn’t have to force your smile to go along anyway.

You don’t remember changing into your pajamas, but you’re grateful that you did. The soft and warm red flannel pants and worn out PTA shirt were comforting, and you opted to stay in it as long as possible. In fact, everyone dragged their feet off to school and work today. Peggy and John left shortly after waking up so they could go home and grab a change of clothes, and Charlotte stood in the bathroom brushing her teeth for a solid five minutes before she realizes she’s just standing there. She eventually snaps out of it when you undo her braids and brush out her hair for the day. Charlotte skulks off to get changed into her clothes while you stare at your closet, combing your hair out. At about 6:15am, before you can figure out what you want to wear, you hear a knock on the door. As you walk to the door, you loudly ask Charlotte,

“Did John or Peggy forget something, Charlotte?” You open the door and simultaneously hear your daughter’s grumbled response and find Theodosia and Aaron in front of you, Theo holding a small box from a local donut shop, and Aaron holding a drink carrier with coffee and chocolate milk in it. .

“Good morning, Y/N!” Theo exuberantly greets you.

“Oh!” You reply, a little bit surprised. “Good morning, Theo. Please come on in.”

“Thanks!” the young girl replies cheerfully. You move to the side as she literally skips past you and sets the box down on an island in the kitchen. A little shocked that anyone could be so energetic in the morning, you turn back to face Aaron. He also walks in your home and you shut the door behind him.

“Good morning, Aaron,” you stumble to say when you realize you only greeted his daughter. He smiles and leans down to place a kiss on your cheek and replies in kind. Before he could pull away, you turn your head and place a chaste kiss on his lips. The smile on his face is contagious and exhilarating, and you almost forget that you were exhausted less than five minutes ago. After a moment you ask, teasingly,

“Does one of those coffees happen to belong to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe,” he teases back, inching his way closer to you. You can hear Charlotte closing her bedroom door and walking out into the living room. Aaron hears her as well because he hands you the coffee and faces your daughter.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” he greets your daughter cheerfully. “Theo and I thought we would bring the two of you breakfast and head to school together today.” Charlotte nods groggily, and says a quiet “thanks” heading to her food.

“Charmander here,” you explain, walking over to the table where she had just sat down. “Is not a morning person, coupled with the fact that her Uncle John and Aunt Peggy let her stay up way too late last night.” You stroke your daughter’s hair.

“Mama, can you braid my hair into pigtails again?” She looks up to you with a smile and a bit of chocolate frosting on her face. You hand her a napkin and nod, picking up sections of hair and beginning to plait it for her.

“Theo, did you have a good time at the Hamiltons’ last night?” You inquire about the giddy girl, sitting next to her father who is eating his donut and taking a drink of his coffee. She nods her head enthusiastically as she finishes her donut.

“Yes ma’am! We played hide and seek and then watched the Spongebob movie before we went to bed.” Charlotte gasps, and it makes you jump because you weren’t expecting her to make such a loud noise this early in the morning. Aaron lets out a small laugh at your surprise, a blush appearing on your cheeks. Your daughter didn’t realize your reaction and added to Theodosia’s story,

“That’s my favorite movie! Me, Uncle John, and Aunt Peggy watched that movie last night too!” Charlotte, finally waking up, continues to chat energetically with Theodosia as you finish your daughter’s braids. You give Aaron a knowing look and he shakes his head with a smile. Theodosia had sat down first, and made sure Charlotte sat next to her. On the other side of the counter/table is where you sat down - within inches of Aaron. The donut and coffee disappear pretty quickly from everyone’s grasps. While you were watching the girls talk to each other, you see Aaron looking at you from the corner of your eye and turn to face him, noticing a soft smile on his face. He really does have an incredible smile, you think to yourself. He reaches out his hand and you do the same, intertwining your fingers together. Both of you missed the smiles between your daughters.

*****************************************************************

Two days later you receive a text message from Nathaniel in the morning.

“Are you available to meet for coffee at 1:30?”

Without hesitation, you replied.

“Yes. Starbucks on Broadway sound okay?”

“Sounds good! See you then.”

It only took you 15 seconds of consideration before you’re hitting the call button and speaking to Aaron. It wasn’t that you felt like you needed permission, but you wanted to talk to him about Nathaniel.

“Do you have a moment?” You ask carefully.

“Sure. What’s up?” Aaron says in a calm, but concerned voice.

“Nothing’s up, really, but I’m ready to tell you a bit more about Nathaniel.”

“Okay,” he replies. You can hear the chatter in the background, but Aaron’s attention was on your voice.

“Before Charlotte was even a possibility, I was a workaholic.” You take a breath and clarify, “Well, a worse one than I am now. I never took breaks, and I always found reasons to stay at the cafe rather than hang out with friends or family. My logic was ‘If I see my brother and best friend at work, why should I spend time outside of my job to do just that?’. My focus was the cafe and nothing else.

“One night Peggy and John dragged me out of the cafe and forced me to go out with them to a bar to let off some steam, which in their definition meant me getting drunk and going home with a random guy.”

“Let me guess,” Aaron interrupts your soliloquy. “The random guy was Nathaniel?”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner.” I let out a chuckle. “I remember meeting him and talking to him, but I never learned Nathaniel’s last name. I just learned it the other night at the restaurant.” Aaron makes a noise to signify that he understood.

“So we both know that you don’t need my permission to do anything and vice versa, but I assume you’re bringing me in the loop because you’re meeting Nathaniel today, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” You think about it for a moment, but nothing comes to mind - not even a joke.

“No, but thank you though.”

“Thank you for sharing, Y/N. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to do so.”

“Oh no, not at all. In fact, I feel as if I can rely on you with the information I’ve never really shared before, and I really appreciate that about our relationship.” The word falls out of your mouth before you could catch it, and you aren’t even given enough time to walk your statement back because Aaron is suddenly saying in a sly voice, a bit quieter than his initial volume.

“I know our relationship hasn’t been defined, but I would also like to inform you that my feelings for you are very real, and of a romantic nature.” You’re grateful that you’re sitting in your office with the door closed because you don’t want anyone to see the bumbly mess that you are turning into as a result of Aaron’s words.

“Well the definition could be quite simple as I return those real, romantic, feelings towards you, Aaron.” A moment passes, and you could picture the wide, full tooth smile that he had on his face.

“I’m glad to hear that, Y/N.”

*********************************************************************

Over the next two weeks, Aaron and Theo would come over for breakfast before school, sometimes bringing coffee and donuts, other times giving you a heads up, allowing you to make the coffee and breakfast. Theodosia said your eggs were the best she ever had, and Aaron complimented you on your ability to hide the veggies so the girls would actually eat them. Each morning started with a greeting from Theo and a kiss on the cheek from Aaron, which would turn into a kiss on the mouth from you (“they already know we’re dating, Aaron”). On the second Monday after your first date, you ask Aaron if he was free on Wednesday evening for a second date. He happily agreed. This time, you paid.

Wednesday nights became date nights. From finding the “best ice cream cone” in your part of New York to riding the bumper cars ten times in a row at Coney Island (Aaron let you drive, and he held his arm around you the whole time), the time you’ve spent together allowed both of you a much needed release from your everyday lives. Fridays became sleepover nights. Whether Charlotte went to the Burr household or Theodosia spent the night at your place, the girls were growing in their friendship just as quickly as you and Aaron were growing in yours.

It was the Wednesday a week before Thanksgiving when Aaron asked what you were doing the Tuesday of Thanksgiving week, and you replied that you would be deep-cleaning your apartment for family coming in the following day for Thanksgiving festivities.

“It’s a big celebration, really”, you explain. “My parents HATE New York, but they love Charlotte, so they compromise. Mama and Papa come here for Thanksgiving so we go to them for Christmas.” Your fingers are intertwined with Aaron’s and you are walking back to your apartment. Before Aaron could get out why he asked about your plans, you (hopefully) nonchalantly add,

“I would love for you and Theodosia to join us for Wednesday and Thursday family festivities if you don’t have any plans”. Aaron stops in his tracks, naturally stopping you as well. A bit worried that he stopped in abject horror, you’re pleased when you see a shocked smile start to curl on Aaron’s face. Aaron had confided in you on your last date that he had lost his parents shortly after he passed the bar exam, and Theodosia Sr. lost her parents before they had met, so Theo grew up without grandparents or extended family, really, which is the opposite of your daughter.

“Would your parents mind?” He asks carefully, not hiding his smile at all.

“Not at all. In fact, they’re dying to meet the little girl who is best friends with their granddaughter,” you tug on his hand for the two of you to start moving again. “And, your name has come up once or twice,” you add, coyly, while your cheeks start to turn pink.

“Theo and I would love to attend your family’s festivities. Count us in on both days. Would you come with me on Tuesday evening to my work’s Thanksgiving party? Alexander and Eliza will be there, so you’ll have other friendly faces besides mine.” This conversation could not have gone any better. You’re smiling widely as you respond enthusiastically.

“Sounds like fun.”

#Chapter 11 #Aaron Burr #Aaron Burr x Reader #Reader insert #Hamilton Fanfiction #hamilton

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ehstarwar · 5 years ago

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under thy own life’s key (2/7)

Maybe the A/C wasn’t as useful down in the dungeon as the rest of the house. Maybe the flannel bed sheets were a little much. Maybe she was actually back in Jakku and the last eight years had all been a fever dream.

Or her best friend/bed buddy was a cuddler. A Big Time Cuddler.

Rey and Ben's sleeping arrangements lead to some interesting mornings. And even more interesting nights.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.5K

Read on AO3

Notes: i wrote this while watching TRoS and as soon as started the ~fun~ part, Ben and Han had their moment and i felt like i was debauching him in front of his dad. i've probs done worse tho, so, enjoy!

Chapter 2: relieves the weary laborer and heals hurt minds

Chandrila is notoriously hot, or so the online articles Rey skimmed said it was. She felt confident that her upbringing in a desert would be sufficient preparation for the oncoming heat. Something that Coruscant blessedly didn’t endure too long of. Rey knew that suckers like Hux and Kaydel would have a hard time adjusting, but would eventually realize the benefits of said heat. (Well… Kaydel would.)

When booking the trip, Poe had assured the group that the cabin they would be staying had a well function air conditioning that his fiancé insisted upon. Rey may not have been the closest with Hux, but she knew enough of him to know he wouldn’t have spent money on a place without everything being up to his standards.

So when Rey woke up Monday morning in, what felt like, a blistering inferno, she was a little shocked. Maybe the A/C wasn’t as useful down in the dungeon as the rest of the house. Maybe the flannel bed sheets were a little much. Maybe she was actually back in Jakku and the last eight years had all been a fever dream.

Or her best friend/bed buddy was a cuddler. A Big Time Cuddler.

Ben’s arms were holding onto Rey, encasing her torso and clutching her to him. His tree-trunk legs were tangled with hers, one shoved between her legs making her core rest on his thigh. Ben’s face was resting against the back of her head so that she could feel his warm breath on the top of her neck. His chest rose and fell in time with his breath and Rey couldn’t help but marvel at the solidity against her, at how different it felt beneath her back than it had under her hands.

When she realizes the source of the heat, Rey suddenly doesn’t mind it so much. It becomes a comfort, like wrapping up in your favorite blanket when its fresh out of the dryer. She can’t help but think of the winter, when she’s cold and buried under blankets that still provide no heat, and how nice it would feel if Ben was there. Solid and warm and wonderful. How she could just turn around and nuzzle into his embrace and press her lips to-

And then Rey really wakes up.

She slowly extracts herself from his embrace, moving gently so as not to disturb her sleeping giant. She ignores the painful stab in her gut, willing herself to not feel as if moving from his arms was like cutting off a limb. Trying not to think thoughts that are decidedly un-best friendly.

Rey makes it out of the bed and into the bathroom, checking behind her to make sure Ben is still sound asleep as she shuts the door. Part of her wants to take a cold shower, blame it on the July heat, but Ben would know. He always just knows.

She resigns herself to splashing cold water on her face and brushing her teeth. The sound of footsteps above her tell her that her other friends are up and already starting with the festivities.

That’s why she’s here. To celebrate her friends upcoming nuptials. Not to sleeping the same bed as Ben. Its just an (un)fortunate side effect.

Rey adjust her sleep shirt and shorts before creeping out the bathroom and up the stair, leaving Ben still sleeping in their bunk. When she reaches the top of the stairs, she’s greeted with a platinum-blonde blur quickly setting up what looks like a mimosa table.

“Oh, Phasma. I didn’t know you were staying here,” Rey says, hoping to catch her attention. Phasma pays her no mind as she responds, not breaking for a moment.

“I’m not. I rented a cabin down the hill for myself.” How very Phasma of Phasma. “Armitage wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t show, and this cabin is like one giant splinter waiting to stab itself into an unsuspecting guest. My place is a bit more… modern.”

While Rey and Phasma weren’t the best of friends, Rey found comfort in Phasma’s unyielding ability to be herself. She admired her really, and told her so at more than one social engagements. It’s always met with a slight huff and an excuse to go refill her drink, but Rey knows that it makes Phasma like here. Well, maybe not like, but just not hold her in complete contempt.

“That’s… very wise of you,” Rey says. The little noise of acceptance and slight nod is as close as Phasma will ever get to smiling, so, Rey will take it. “Is that a mimosa bar?” Rey asks.

“And Bloody Mary bar. I wanted to give some options for the bachelors,” Phasma explained.

“Any breakfast?” Rey asks, hopeful. Phasma sends her a sharp look.

“Yes; Mimosas and Bloody Mary’s.”

“Ah.” Rey tries not to look disappointed. She had hoped of waking up to a large stack of waffles drenched in locally sourced syrup, but that wasn’t really Phasma’s style.

To be fair, there were many things Rey expected to be different that what she actually woke up to, but that was neither here nor there.

Rey hears the squeak of the door hinges behind her, and snaps her head around to see a disheveled Ben appearing from the stairwell. His hair was a perfectly tousled mess and she longed to run her hands through it. Maybe even kiss the sleepiness out of his lips.

“Gwen,” Ben says to acknowledge Phasma. Her eyes flit over Ben and Rey, and if she notices that they came from the same place, she keeps it to herself.

“Benjamin, why aren’t you wearing the pajamas I got you for your 30th birthday?” Phasma asks, not once breaking stride in setting up the table.

“I brought them. I just didn’t have the energy to change into a pantsuit last night.” Ben moves into the kitchen, brushing past Rey to get there. His hands gently bumps her arm, right where it was draped over, just a few minutes ago. “I’m assuming you want pancakes?” He shouts back and Rey knows its meant for her. She’s pretty sure Phasma doesn’t eat solid foods that don’t come from a restaurant Rey would have to save for a month to afford.

“Or waffles?” She asks, once again hopeful.

“No waffle maker.”

“Pancakes are fine.” She hopes she doesn’t sound ungrateful. She wants to point out that Ben hasn’t looked for a waffle maker so he can’t possibly know that there isn’t one, but Rey has learned not to bite the hand that feeds her.

Literally.

An hour later, the rest of the house has woken up and wandered down to the kitchen. They’ve already gone through two bottles of champaign, (‘Chump change!’ Poe had shouted when he woke up and demanded another bottle be popped.) and questions of what to do were being tossed around.

“I have a loosely structured agenda that we should all follow for this week,” Hux announces at the table, causing everyone to look at him in confusion.

“Loosely-structured?” Ben repeats.

“In an effort to be more… chill,” Hux abandons his glare at Ben to nod towards Poe, “I’ve decided to allow for a more clandestine trip. While I have ideas on how each minute should be spent, I’ve learned that doesn’t make for the most delightful of guest.”

“Sooooo, Armie has decided to let us collectively choose what we do for the day. Isn’t that so nice of him?” Poe pointedly looks at the rest of the table. Murmurs in agreement flutter around.

“Except for Wednesday,” Hux pipes up. “We’re scheduled to got to one of those tree-top jungle gym things. They have a zip line.” This earns some more enthusiastic hoots from the group. “For today I figured we could just enjoy the lake at the bottom of the hill. We have a private path to get down there.”

The only time Rey could recall her friends moving as quickly as they did on hearing the word ‘lake’ is when Maz first announced her Three-Dollar-Margarita special. Within moments, Finn, Rose, Kaydel, Jannah had all vanished from the table, no doubt putting on their swim suits. Zorii sat beside Rey, giving a yawn that would rival a bears.

“I’m gonna go sleep for a few hours. I’ll come down later.” She saunters up, heading back up the stairs.

“Too old to be hanging out with the cool kids, Zor?” Poe calls after her.

“Nah. Someones gotta stay sober long enough to make sure you fools don’t get eaten by Freddy Krueger.” The eyerolls are unanimous as she leaves the room.

Ben and Rey leave the table to go change as well, ignoring the following gaze of Phasma as they go down the stairwell. Poe and Hux are too caught up in each other to say anything to them.

“So… last night was fine?” Rey says once they reached the room. Ben gives her a confused glance.

“You sound unsure.”

“It was fine, really. I don’t think we need to worry about disrupting the sleeping arrangements of everyone else. Since it was, ya know, fine. Unless you feel differently?” Rey is suddenly very aware that while she okay with their arrangement, Ben could potentially not be. Even if he doesn’t know how she woke up.

“No, no, no, it’s fine with me. Too. It’s fine.” Ben rushes out. Rey is sure her relief is present on her face, but Ben still looks a bit distraught.

“It’s okay to ask for things you want, Rey. No one will get mad if you say you want your own bed,” His voice is soft and something inside of Rey clenches. Ben is always the considerate one, even if his hard exterior begs to differ.

“Ben, truly, it’s fine. If I had a problem, I’d tell you. Trust me,” Rey assures. Ben doesn’t look quite convinced, but he lets it go.

A cool splash of water droplets on her face is what wakes Rey later that day. The pile of beach towels under her rub harshly against her skin as she turns over and comes to. Finn and Rose have jumped back in the lake, splashing around and looking every bit the love dazed couple they would both deny they were.

Hux and Poe wandered off to the hot tub before Rey’s little cat-nap, and she’s sure they were both enjoying post-coital bliss right about now. Zorii, Kaydel, and Jannah were laid out on the dock, soaking up the sun, exactly where Rey assumed they’d be for the duration of this trip. Ben and Phasma were seated beside her, under a little alcove at the beginning of the dock, both reading books with titles that included words Rey had never heard. She was pretty sure Phasma’s was in Greek.

“Enjoy your nap?” Phasma asked, without looking up from her book. Rey just hummed in the affirmative and stretched her now tight limbs. Her bikini did little in the way of covering skin, so she was especially glad Ben brought the highest uvf-protection sunscreen sold. She was less than glad that she only went with one coat instead of three, like Ben warned.

“How long was I out?” She asked, voice groggy.

“About and hour and a half. You missed lunch,” Ben told her. Rey gasped in horror at herself. Her body was usually so good at telling her when it was meal time. To be fair, her body did think all times were meal times.

“Benjamin saved you a sandwich, though. So, not to worry,” Phasma’s voice was cool, but Rey could detect a hint of teasing. She decided not to press it and look for her sandwich instead.

“Just one more movie, you guys. Please! How can you watch Legally Blonde without also watching Legally Blonde 2. It’s… sacrilegious.” Rey’s protest fell onto deaf ears as the last remaining of her friends wandered off to bed. Jannah and Zorii mumbled their goodnights to her, Jannah even giving Rey’s head a good-natured pat, before leaving her alone in the living room.

So she sat there, alone, black screen in front of her, looking out to the mountain side of the cabin, willing herself to be tired. Rey would’ve tried harder to stay awake earlier if she’d known that a little nap would cause her to feel this keyed up this late.

Rey does have a surefire way of exhausting herself enough to knock out for a few good hours, but that way is usually done in a bed by herself. Not in a bed occupied by her best friend who she woke up tangled with.

Rey decides sitting up her by herself would probably cause her friends to question her, so she makes her way down the stairs and to her room. Well, their room. The TV that looks like it came straight from the set of I Love Lucy, is on, filling the room with some static noise. Ben is snoring lightly, body inclined like he was watching the static before passing out. Rey snaps a quick pic of the scene, only to immediately delete it.

Rey shuts off the television, prompting Ben to wake with a start.

“Rey?” He asks, voice deep like he’s still asleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was awake the whole time.”

“Sure, Ben.” She’s fairly certain he can’t see her eye roll in the darkness, but he can defiantly hear her snort. She sees the outline of him move over, giving her space to crawl into bed.

It’s not awkward, Rey tells herself, You did this last night and it was absolutely fine.

“What did you end up watching after I left?” He asks. She wonders why he’s making conversation even though he could very much just fall back asleep, but doesn’t question it. It’s nice in a very domestic sort of way that makes Rey shake her head.

“Only Legally Blonde.”

“Not the second one, too?”

“No, only because our friends are quitters who tap out too soon.”

Ben’s chuckle reverberates across the bed and it tickles her body.

Minutes pass and Rey tries to inconspicuously turn multiple times, trying to find a more comfortable position before Ben says anything.

“Rey.” It’s a warning, but with no venom.

Minutes later, after less inconspicuous tossing and turning: “Are you okay?”

“I’m not tired! I’m trying to be tired but my nap earlier fucked up my sleeping schedule and now I’m not tired.” Her voice is whiney, even to her own ears.

“Just do whatever you normally do when you can’t sleep,” Ben suggest, making her scoff.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t.”

“What could you possibly do that so bad you can’t do it here, with-”

“I masturbate!”

The air around them goes deathly silent and Rey is pretty sure Ben is holding his breath.

“When I can’t sleep, I masturbate, and I’m fairly certain that you wouldn’t appreciate me doing that in a room the size of a phone booth. So if you’ll please-”

“I don’t mind.”

Rey holds her breath now and is tempted to ask him to repeat himself, even though she knows she heard him correctly the first time.

“I wouldn’t mind if you masturbate, that is.” Ben repeats himself anyways.

“I don’t-that is, um. I wouldn’t want- it would be inconsiderate of me, I think,” She says, searching for the right words and coming up empty. “For me, to do that, next to you would be… wrong.”

“I honestly don’t mind,” Ben says, with a forced casualness that makes her feel bad for even telling him.

“I’d feel like I assaulted you, or something. Forcing you to be in the same bed as me while I get off.”

“You wouldn’t be forcing me to do anything.” Rey is tempted to just roll over and pretend to be asleep when he speaks again. “If it made you feel better… I could do it too. If you didn’t mind.”

It’s like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs. Her mouth is open, looking for literally any words to come to her. Literally anything.

All that comes is ‘Bend and Snap!’ Not quite fitting for the situation.

“Just forget I even-”

“Okay.”

Rey is surprised by her own voice. If Ben could see her expression, he’d see utter shock at herself.

“You sure?” His voice is so low she almost doesn’t hear it.

“I’m sure.”

Neither of them make the first move. Both deathly still, waiting for the other one to crack. I got us into this mess, Rey thinks, might as well move forward.

She pushes the blanket down past her hips, giving her easy access to slip past her sleep short and elastic of her underwear. She moves her hand slowly, trying not to seem over eager. She feels the bed shift slightly as Ben pushes down his boxer shorts.

It takes every ounce of self control Rey has ever had, not to let her gaze linger over to him. She promises herself that she’ll only eat McDonalds for a week if she doesn’t. She’ll actually wash all of her sheets instead of just her fitted sheet and pillow cases. She fix the shelf above the sink. She’ll do it all as long as she doesn’t look over to see what is probably a gorgeous cock that would make her mouth water.

Rey’s fingers go to circle her clit, trying to distract herself from what’s happening inches away from her. When she dips below, touching the folds of her pussy, she finds she drenched. She prays it’s from anticipation and not the wet glide of skin she’s starting to hear.

She doesn’t mean to, but when she hears Ben’s pace pick up, she matches it. Her hips twitch slightly begging for more friction. She tries to subtly buck into her hands without the bed shaking too much.

A deep, guttural groan escapes from Ben and the wet slapping of skin quickens even further. Rey can’t help the little sighs and moans that escape her lips. Her body can only handle so much and not being able to look at him is taking a lot of effort. Too much effort.

She’s bucking helplessly into her hand, two fingers deep in her cunt and one rubbing her clit. Her head is tossed back, her feet try to find purchase on the bed, her back is arched to the point of pain. All of this does nothing to distract her from the glorious noises Ben is making.

His huffs, his pants; it’s like a drug to her. She really can’t be blamed if she starts picturing Ben above her, instead of next to her. Ben’s fingers pushed tight into her fore instead of her own. Ben’s hand clutching at her nipples for dear life.

Its that thought, the one of Ben between her legs, body pressed into hers, that tosses her over the edge. If Ben just so happens to come simultaneously, that’s truly just a coincidence. Truly.

Ben is fucking his hand, bucking up in time with Rey, until her whole body stills. He groans, helplessly, one last time, cursing as he meets his peak. Rey’s vision whites out as she feels ecstasy flow through her. A fresh gush of liquid coats her hand as her fingers still within her.

When she hears Ben’s heavy breathing resume, she knows he’s coming down from the high too. She feels her resolve to not look at him there, crumble, so she shuts her eyes and focuses on catching her breath.

Pulling her hand out of her underwear makes her wince and Rey is overcome with the question as to what to do now.

“I’ll get a towel!” Her voice is too loud after such a silence, and she quickly leaves the bed for the bathroom. When she finds the light switch, some inescapable force makes her look over at Ben.

He’s bathed in the partial light of the bathroom, sitting up further. He was able to put himself back into his boxers, so the only remnants of what they’d done lie in the white fluid coating his hand. Rey gulps and disappears into the bathroom.

When she exits, after washing her hands twice and gulping down cold water, Ben is shrugging a new shirt on, and she catches the hard plains of his abdominal muscles. Her mouth goes dry again.

“I got you a towel,” She says bluntly, extending him a washcloth she’d found beneath the sink. She doesn’t mention it’s what she used to clean herself, but she’d honestly not thought of it until the words were out of her mouth.

“Ugh, that’s okay. I’ll just… wash my hands.” Ben brushes past her towards the bathroom and Rey goes to sit on her side of the bed. She focuses on breathing for a few minutes until she hears the door open. Even in just a silhouette, Ben looks beautiful.

“Are you okay?” He asks. Rey nods a bit too eagerly.

“I’m good, yeah. Better. I’ll be able to sleep now.”

“Good, good.”

“You?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be able to sleep now, too.”

“You weren’t the one who couldn’t fall asleep.”

“I’ll sleep better now.”

Rey snorts her laughter, making him smile softly.

When they’re both settled on their respective sides, Rey speaks again. “Thank you, by the way. I know that could be… uncomfortable for others. So, thank you.”

“Of course, Rey. I’ll always help you, no matter what it is. You’re my best friend.”

It’s the only time he’s called her his best friend and her heart didn’t fill with joy. If anything, it stings.

“Yeah, you’re mine too, Ben.”

Minutes later, Rey falls into a dreamless sleep.

#the gif doesn't have like A TON to do with the story #but he's just so soft in it and that is The Ben Solo Brand™#reylo #ben solo #kylo ren #kylo ren x rey #ben solo x rey #rey #adam driver #daisy ridley #sw #star wars #fan fiction #my work #rey x ben

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takingcourage · 6 years ago

Text

Moving Forward (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 2,250

Summary: Arden finally determines that there’s more to her relationship with Jaime than just friendship. Unfortunately, the timing of her realization is rather inconvenient...

Note: I’m jumping ahead several months here. This is definitely a case of the muses getting what the muses want (and getting it out of order!), but I make no apologies.

Part 2 will be up on Sunday.

“Good evening, everyone! This is Arden Gale reporting to you from Northbridge’s own New Year’s Eve Extravaganza. As the name implies, we have an impressive array of attractions -- from local celebrities to the annual balloon drop that will be taking place in just a couple of hours. Stay with us to find out just what the evening has in store.” She beamed into the camera, cheeks straining as they assumed what had been their default position for the better part of the last three hours.

Arden loved her job, but the past several months had taught her that being on screen was a thousand times more exhausting than any late-night writing job she’d ever taken. A people-person by nature, it still alarmed her how much more draining social interaction was when it happened in front of a camera.

At Tony’s signal, she dropped the smile, shoulders lowering slightly as they fell into a more natural posture. The next featured guest was prepping at a table nearby, but she was finding it difficult to give him more than his requisite time. Instead, her awareness was pulled toward a handsome figure several yards away.

Jaime’s own focus was on the man he was speaking with -- someone Arden recognized as one of the event organizers. While the two of them chatted, she took a moment to study him undisturbed. She scanned his familiar profile, pulse skipping just as it had when she’d met him in the lobby hours before. Arden had initially tried to quip something about him forsaking his country roots, but she’d been checked by dampness of her palms -- palms that were still aching to find a place against his own.

Mind wandering, she traced the edge of her carefully manicured thumbnail with a finger. She’d been suppressing urges to touch him all night. During dinner, it had been all she could do to keep her hands in her lap instead of seeking his fingers beneath the tablecloth. It wasn’t that she was looking to do anything indecent, but she couldn’t deny that she felt the insatiable urge to stake her claim on the most attractive man in the room.

You don’t have a claim on him, you dummy. You made it very clear that he was just coming as your plus one.

Idiot.

He’d purchased a new suit for the occasion -- dark navy and paired with a smart plaid dress shirt that was just the right combination of suave and comfortable. His thick hair, usually loose and unkempt, had been styled with attention… and product, she noted. He looked good. Better than she had ever seen him, honestly.

When she’d complimented his appearance on the night of their senior prom, she’d done it out of convention. Back then, it hadn’t mattered to her that her best friend and date didn’t quite fill out the shoulders of his suit or that his latest haircut wasn’t exactly straight in the back. They’d had a tremendous amount of fun together in spite of all their imperfections. But tonight all of her compliments had been genuine. Even after an entire evening of looking at him, her eyes were still drawn with magnetic force.

Jaime caught her staring as the song’s melody faded to quiet chords. She raised a hand in acknowledgement and flashed a glimpse of her pearly whites. The subtle wink he returned sent a shiver of heat down her spine.

She was falling for him. Hard.

“We’re ready for you, Gale.” Tony’s voice carried over the initial swell of some rousing party anthem that she couldn’t remember the name of, and she tore her gaze away.

Her next guest was a local man who dabbled in inventions, chosen tonight for the festive confetti sunglasses prototype that he was testing. Arden stretched out her free hand to shake his in introduction, her smile becoming genuine as they exchanged pleasantries.

She’s going to think I’m ridiculous. Here I am at forty-five, trying to sell sunglasses to a bunch of snobby party people. Why did I ever agree to this?

Months of experience had taught Arden to hide the influx of thoughts under a carefully metered expression. Still, beneath the cheerful demeanor, it was impossible not to empathize or at least feel some measure of sympathy.

“Mr. Finley,” she began, taking a pair of steps toward his table of products. “We’ve still got a couple of minutes before it’s time to start filming. While we wait, I’m curious to learn more about your creative process and the inspiration behind your inventions. Am I right in thinking that you’re currently collaborating with Northbridge Medical Center? That kind of versatility is very impressive.”

His thin lips broke into a radiant grin, and Arden became fully absorbed in his enthusiasm.

Some ten minutes later, the segment wrapped. Arden combed a hand through her hair, pulling away a handful of confetti as she sauntered across the room. Jaime leaned against one of the ballroom’s marble columns, surveying the dance floor with a contemplative stare. Coming up next to him, she swayed into his side with a gentle hip check. “Hey there, stranger.”

Hey, beautiful -- No! She’d kill me if I called her that. “Hi, Arden.”

“Do you want some confetti?” She inquired, presenting her open hand for inspection. “I was going to toss it in a trash can, but I didn’t pass any on my way over.”

“Here,” he offered helpfully, holding up the flap of his jacket pocket so that she could deposit the bits of paper inside.

“I’m impressed you’ve taken the stitches out,” she joked, patting the pocket closed for good measure.

“Har har, Arden. I’m not a complete neanderthal. I can pull off snazzy when I need to.”

I know you can. She eyed him again, hoping to disguise her interest with an appraising look. “Yeah? Why don’t you prove it to me on the dance floor?”

His forehead shook fractionally, but the hair remained stable.

“Something in your eye?”

“Force of habit,” he explained, a bit sheepish. “I’m not used to it staying in one place for so long.”

“It looks nice,” Arden assured. “But you never answered my question. Do you want to dance or not? I think the jazz band is about to start up.” She gestured noncommittally toward the musicians congregating with their instruments on the makeshift stage.

“They’re a pretty far cry from Katy Perry.”

That mischievous glint in his eye was going to be her downfall.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.”

“It was the last dance of senior prom -- everyone was belting it out.”

“Yeah, but most of them were singing the right words.”

“Oh, shut up.” Arden swatted his sleeve playfully before dragging him to an empty corner of the dance floor.

“You’re sure you’ve got time for a dance?”

“They won’t need me for another twenty minutes at least. Besides, the studio can’t blame me for having a little fun on company time. They’re the ones forcing me to work holidays.”

Jaime eyed her incredulously. “Arden, you’re here because you’re the fresh-faced darling of Northbridge News. Your adoring public can’t get enough of you.”

“I’m here because I don’t have seniority to get the day off,” she countered, placing a hand on his shoulder. She raised a challenging brow and rocked back on her left foot. Jaime stepped forward, and soon they were moving in tandem with the introductory strains of the music. “But thanks again for agreeing to be my plus one. My dad would have been snoring in a corner by now, so you’ve done me an enormous favor by sparing me that embarrassment.”

“He’s had a hard time making it to midnight the past couple of years, hasn’t he?” Jaime chuckled, shaking his head. When it straightened, he was looking beyond her. Arden resisted the urge to turn around and see what it was that held his attention. “I have a confession to make: I didn’t really come as a favor.” On her once more, his eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge her reaction. “After all of the New Years we’ve spent together, did you really expect me to say no to another one?” Did you expect me to say no to you?

Arden grinned at him, but her eyes remained trained on his forehead -- a trick she’d learned from Aubrey some months ago. She couldn’t handle those brown eyes that read her emotions as well as she read thoughts. Not tonight, when her thoughts about him were already in a jumble. “I kind of figured you’d feel like you had to come, what with it being a tradition and all.”

“It’s always been one of my favorites.”

“We could be home playing board games in our sweats.”

“That wouldn’t be nearly as exciting,” He lifted his arm and she spun beneath it with practiced ease.

Her skirt flared as they resumed their starting position, the outer layer brushing against his shins. In the moment of resistance, Arden was overcome by a tingle of warmth along her spine. She’d never been so aware of his body -- so aware of him. It was only with serious effort that she kept her breathing steady as his hand returned to her upper back. Heat coursed through her, emanating from skin that burned under his touch. What were we talking about again? Oh, the party. “Well, the food wouldn’t be as good. I still can’t get over that risotto from dinner.” Arden smirked at his bemused expression. “What can I say? I love a good party.”

“I can tell.” His full lips tugged into a smirk as his weight shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry I don’t have any fancy partner moves to pull. I’ll have to study up on them before next year.”

Next year. Was it strange that she’d been thinking the same thing all evening? For nearly as long as she could remember, their friendship had been a guarantee -- an inevitable part of her life. In the past decade, they’d spent almost every New Year’s Eve together. It only made sense that the years ahead would follow suit. But would anything change? Would they still be in this same position next year? I hope not, she reflected before reining in her unruly thoughts. “We’ll take next year as it comes.”

The opening swing number drew to a close, tempo growing more subdued as the musicians transitioned into their next piece. Arden’s steps slowed with the sensuous tones of the saxophone, blood rushing to her ears as she recognized the shift in mood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several couples narrow their distance accordingly.

“Do you want to...?” Jaime asked quietly, noticing the cause of her distraction.

In that moment, two facts shifted into alarming focus. First, there was no longer any shadow of doubt that she was in love with this man. Second, she’d been the fool of the century to bring him along on an assignment for work.

What if she says yes?

His thought whisked through her own mind with nonchalance, as if she weren’t already at a point of crisis without someone else’s feelings to come and crowd out her own. Distracted, Arden’s heel slipped forward on the smooth wooden floor, and she sucked in a breath as her balance gave way beneath her. Her whole body tensed for impact, but it never came.

A beat later, Arden opened her eyes, somewhat dazed. She looked up to find that Jaime supported her with one hand at her side, his other having caught her elbow as she slipped. Feet firmly planted once again, Arden searched his face, unable to disguise the shock on her own.

“You’re okay. No one saw.” Light brown eyes were trained on her, compassionate and… something more. Something she’d been refusing to notice: he was in every bit as deep as she was.

“Thanks,” she whispered genuinely. This time, there was no witticism to accompany her gratitude. Arden swallowed hard, taking a slight step back so he knew that she was capable of standing on her own two feet. “Next time we go dancing, I’ll have to make sure I’m not on company time.”

His eyes widened as he read the meaning in her face. “I’m going to take you up on that, you know.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Arden, that smile is going to be the death of me. “But I think we’ve had enough dancing for now.”

“We only danced to one song!”

“I think that one song was enough.” His observation hung between them, weighed down with meaning that neither of them could unpack.

For a moment, his breathing was the only thing Arden was conscious of in the entire room. As much as she wanted to press him further, this was not the time or place for such admissions. Besides, her thoughts were much too jumbled to make sense of even if the opportunity had presented itself. For once, the confused mass was entirely her own.

“Are you thirsty?” Jaime asked after what felt like an eternity. “You can head back to the table and I’ll find us some drinks.”

Numb, Arden dropped his hand and took another step back. “I should probably go and touch up my makeup, actually. Make sure nothing’s smudged.” She turned over her shoulder and walked away without giving him a chance to respond.

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

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thisbibliomaniac · 6 years ago

Note

All the asks! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

hnnnng okay. just for you ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?Teacups and wine glasses 👌 but they have to be big tea cups and pretty wine glasses. My house will be full of wine glasses and no wine 😂 2. chocolate bars or lollipops?Chocolate 3. bubblegum or cotton candy?Cotton candy 4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?It was my mom, so probably nothing flattering XD 5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?I prefer to drink pop because I'm not an animal. 6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?Boho7. earbuds or headphones?Neither :/ 8. movies or tv shows?Both!! 9. favorite smell in the summer?Fresh air 10. game you were best at in p.e.?Dodgeball 11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?Nothing 12. name of your favorite playlist?👍 13. lanyard or key ring?Key ring14. favorite non-chocolate candy?Reese's pieces 15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?Madman 16. most comfortable position to sit in?None :///17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?My work shoes. They're also my most expensive shoes by a lot, but I can actually walk at the end of the week now 😂 18. ideal weather?Fall weather 19. sleeping position?Side 20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?Notebook with lines, but I also love typing 21. obsession from childhood?General and specific history 22. role model?None 23. strange habits?I was moderately obsessive compulsive as a kid, and our kitchen and basement stairs are black and white tiles like a checkerboard. For years upon years I only ever stepped on the black tiles, which meant for years upon years I always walked up and down the stairs the same way. A few years ago the kitchen floor was replaced, but not the basement stairs. Last week there was a basket on the landing so I started off on the wrong foot and almost fell three times on four stairs 😂 muscle memory, man. 24. favorite crystal??25. first song you remember hearing?Oh goodness i dont know26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?Drive with the windows down and Needtobreathe playing 27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?Stay inside and read 28. five songs to describe you?D: also no idea! 29. best way to bond with you?Literally just talk. I hate feeling like I'm being interrogated and tend to shut down if all you do is ask more and more probing questions. Talk about yourself. 30. places that you find sacred?My car. 31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?None :///32. top five favorite vines?Somehow I missed out on all of vine culture lol 33. most used phrase in your phone?lol 34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?I only use Netflix and mp3 so I rarely hear ads anymore 35. average time you fall asleep?236. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?Probably grumpy cat?37. suitcase or duffel bag?Bag 38. lemonade or tea?Tea!39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?Bothhh40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?I'm sure there are lots of things, but I can't think of them 41. last person you texted?Probably Stell 42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?Pants pocket if they'd ever make them big enough for my phone 43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?All of the above. Except maybe jean jacket 44. favorite scent for soap?Pumpkin spice! 45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?All! 46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?Yoga pants and tank top 47. favorite type of cheese?Feta48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?Cherry 49. what saying or quote do you live by?"More isn't always better, sometimes it's just more." 50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?Interesting lettuce 51. current stresses?Everything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 52. favorite font?Webdings 53. what is the current state of your hands?Typing? 54. what did you learn from your first job?Everything I would ever need for life 😂 55. favorite fairy tale?Cinderella! 56. favorite tradition?Don't really have any 57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?Nope 58. four talents you’re proud of having?¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?I'm right and I should say it 60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?I don't know anything about anime, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?Too many to choose from 62. seven characters you relate to?63. five songs that would play in your club?Anything from Needtobreathe or Taylor Swift 64. favorite website from your childhood?That veggietales gaming one 65. any permanent scars?Yes 66. favorite flower(s)?Roses and Plumerias 67. good luck charms?None 68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?Stevia 69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned???70. left or right handed?Right 71. least favorite pattern?Paisley 72. worst subject?Science 73. favorite weird flavor combo?Veggie chips and hot sauce 74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?Depends on what type of pain. I can handle everything except a migraine, which I only cant handle because I know it won't go away on its own. 75. when did you lose your first tooth?No idea 76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?Curly fries 77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?All I've ever grown was told 78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?Hummus from a gas station 79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?No photos of me look good 80. earth tones or jewel tones?Jewel tones 81. fireflies or lightning bugs?Fireflies 82. pc or console?Depends on if I'm playing Mario kart or roller coaster tycoon 83. writing or drawing?I can't do either :////84. podcasts or talk radio?¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 84. barbie or polly pocket?Polly pocket!! 85. fairy tales or mythology?Fairy tales 86. cookies or cupcakes?Cookies87. your greatest fear?Too late 88. your greatest wish?I want a kitten 89. who would you put before everyone else?Obi 90. luckiest mistake?My first job. My boss didn't realize I wasn't technically old enough to run the grill for another two months, so it was harder on her for a while, but that was my favorite job. 91. boxes or bags?Bag 92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?a l l 93. nicknames?Not big on them. I'm good with Bibi though 94. favorite season?Fall! 95. favorite app on your phone?The calculator 96. desktop background?I've been meaning to change it. It's been Tim drake for like six years 97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?Oh gosh so many. Lots of family numbers, and tons of local dealerships. A handful of coworkers. Every place I've ever worked. The Chevy dealers fax number. I'm good with numbers. 98. favorite historical era?Tudor England (just the drama, not the politics) and the Salem witch trials Thanks dear 💖💖💖

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keep-me-inmind-kaspbrak · 7 years ago

Photo

You Take My Breath Away~ Reddie Fic

Summary: When DJ job opens at the local roller rink Richie takes it not knowing he would meet the possible love of his life.

AO3: {READ}

Chapters: [Chapter 1]

Notes: Beta read by @cestleprobleme Thank you all for the wonderful support! It has really motivated me to write faster, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! <3 Also if you’d like to be added to the tag list feel free to send an ask!

Chapter 2

WC: 4,021

It didn’t take long for Richie to hear back from the roller rink. The few days leading up to the call he would constantly fidget, bounce his leg up and down, tap his fingers on his desk, and constantly check his phone to see if he had by chance missed a call. As soon as he heard his phone ring loudly, “It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you...” Richie nearly sprang out of bed, juggling his phone frantically as he tried to answer it. As soon as he managed to swipe to answer the incoming call he calmly answered, “Hello?”

It was Ben who had called, “Hey Richie! So you got the job and boss wants you to come in to train with me starting Friday. Does that work for you?”

“Haystack! Fuck yeah that works for me! What time do I need to come in? Do I have to wear anything special? Because I swear to fuck if I have to wear a uniform I’m gonna shit.” Richie answered with his mouth running a mile a minute, par usual.

“Shit, slow down, man! No, you don’t have to wear a uniform. Does three in the afternoon work for you?” Ben asked laughing slightly at Richie’s excitement.

“Thank fucking god, I’ll be there at three on Friday!” Richie said with a smile plastered on his face. He hung up the phone and started pumping his fists while shouting out in excitement. He pranced over to his record player and placed a record on his turn table, setting the needle gently down, allowing the silent room to be filled with the sweet music of one of his favorite bands: AC/DC. The bands song T.N.T began to thunder through the room as Richie closed his eyes and flopped on his rackety dorm bed while belting out the lyrics to the song and air playing the drums and guitar at the same time, which you might think is impossible, but Richard Tozier was here to prove you wrong.

He had never been excited about a job, like ever. He fucking hated having to work because of his past experiences working in fast food and at his hometown’s local gas station. He had been fired from both those jobs within a couple months. It wasn’t because he didn’t do the work, it was for his foul mouth. He was well known for having no filter on his colorful language and that came with some consequences all too often.

After the song had finished Richie decided to whip out his phone and shoot a text to Bev.

Richie: Ya boi got the job B)

Bev: I fucking told you that you would get it!!!!

Richie: Well who wouldn’t hire this fine piece of ass!?

Bev: Whatever you say Rich, when do you start?

Richie: Friday, haystack is going to train me

Bev: Awesome! Well I gotta go work on the costumes for the play, I’ll talk to ya later! <3

Richie tossed his phone on his bed as he stood up and walked over to his closet. He grabbed his black worn-down leather jacket that once belonged to his father years ago. He decided it was time for a celebratory smoke in honor of his recent victory in scoring the job. He grabbed his pack of smokes and his lighter and headed out to his usual smoking spot. As he made his way down the softly lit walkways of campus, his mind began to wander back to that boy he saw at the roller rink, Eddie. He had never seen the boy before, not in a single class, not in the cafeteria, or even wandering the campus streets.

Richie made it to his usual spot; a quiet cut off area behind one of the empty academic buildings, and began to light his cigarette, taking a rather long drag and allowing the smoke to fill his lungs. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back slowly exhaling the bitter smoke. Thoughts of seeing Eddie again began to flood Richie’s head and his nerves kicked in. He had never felt this way about another person ever in his life, and he’s been with plenty of boys and girls. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he knew he wanted to impress Eddie and he would do anything possible to sway the petite boy his direction. Exhaling the rest of the smoke, he dropped the butt of his cigarette and stomped it out. Pushing his hands in his pockets he hoped the week would pass quickly so he could begin working at the roller rink, and maybe, start getting a few more glimpses of Eddie.

Much to Richie’s surprise, the week did not pass as quickly as he hoped. It was filled with quizzes, homework, and even a goddamn paper. As much as Richie came off as the class clown and or as the “village idiot,” grades were really important to him. It was how he was able to go to college; he was on an almost full-ride scholarship to the small university on the coast of Maine. As the week went on he was grateful when Friday rolled around, and he was fidgeting all day waiting for three o’clock to finally come. His last class was at two, which gave him little time to run back to his room to freshen up before his first day on the job. As much as he didn’t care about how others thought he looked, he wanted to make sure he looked somewhat presentable for his first day.

As his last class finished he booked it across campus to his room to quickly change out of his worn out and faded black shirt into one of his favorite t-shirts that had Def Leppard written across the front with a faded British flag behind the distinctive font. He also quickly changed into a pair of his best black skinny jeans that weren’t ripped but clearly used, with a slight fade to them. He fixed his curly locks as best as he could, which was him just running his hands through his hair until it looked somewhat tamed. Looking at the time, he had only fifteen minutes to get to the rink and the drive would take at least ten minutes, so he grabbed his leather jacket and booked it out the dorm, practically sprinting to get to his car on the other side of campus.

He stood outside the rink, gazing at the run-down place before he made his way through the door. He was greeted with sounds of shitty pop music and the smell of pizza, candy, and that musky old smell that made him smile instantly.

“Hey there, Richie!” Ben said cheerfully, greeting him with a big smile.

“Well, hey there, Haystack, fancy meeting you here.” he replied with excitement.

“Ready?”

“Hell yeah!” Richie said placing his arm around Ben as he led Richie to the skate rental area.

The first two hours Richie spent learning how to rent out skates as well as how to properly return them. He was hoping he wouldn’t be spending most his time doing this and that he would mainly be working the DJ booth, but he understood that he should know how to do both just in case it became busy and Ben or anyone else would need the extra help. Another hour passed and Ben was showing Richie how to properly clean the skates and organize them by size after they were returned. They sat together spraying the disinfectant spray in each skate while they made small talk, asking each other about school and their majors, since Richie had really had only met Ben once or twice through hanging out with Bev.

“Hey Ben, do you know that Eddie kid?” Richie asked looking over the top of his glasses as he sprayed a pair of skates.

“Uh yeah, I’ve known him since my freshman year. Why?” Ben replied stopping his work to look at Richie.

“Just curious.” Richie said bluntly, shrugging it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

Five o’clock rolled around and Ben said that they could take a 15-minute break before he would train him at the DJ booth. Richie sighed and abruptly stood up, “Thank fuck, I don’t know if I could deal with that disinfectant smell anymore.”

Ben laughed a little, patting his back, “You’ll get used to it.”

Richie saw Ben head towards the back of the building and he was about to follow until he saw a familiar face walk in with a group of boys. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to make his way over to the short figure before Ben grabbed him by his shoulder and dragged him to the break room.

“If you wanted me that bad, Ben, all you had to do was say something.” Richie joked winking at Ben.

He could see Ben blush in embarrassment, “Shut up, Richie. Here is where you’ll clock in and take lunch if you work a long enough shift.”

“Cool beans!” Richie replies while shooting Ben some finger guns.

“So, uh, yeah here’s your clock in number for the next time.” Ben handed a piece of paper to Richie.

“Knock, knock!” Bev interrupted sneaking her head in the break room.

“Beverly, darling!” Richie shouted in his proper English lady accent while running over to her giving her a big hug.

“Oh, well hello Richard!” Bev replied with the same accent pecking the each cheek making a loud kissy noise.

Richie and Bev began laughing before Ben coughed. “Oh Ben! How’s training this piece of shit going?” Bev asked as she made her way over to ben to place a small peck on his lips.

“Ouch, I am hurt, Marsh!” Richie gasped clutching his heart.

“I’ll just say he keeps it interesting.” Ben laughed.

“Hey, the rest of the losers are out waiting to meet the new DJ…” Bev started to say before Richie interrupted.

“Say no more! The fans ask and I shall give them what they want.” Richie said straightening his posture and making his way out of the break room.

Ben and Bev followed behind Richie, rolling their eyes and smiling as they watched Richie confidently make his way out to where the losers were standing in a circle. As Richie made his way to the circle of friends he cleared his throat, “I heard there was a group of fans waiting to meet me?”

“Guys, this is Richie.” Bev said as she and Ben made it to the group.

The group all said hello and introduced themselves. There was Bill, he was taller than Richie, with perfectly styled brown hair and a slight stutter to his speech. Then there was Stan, who was about average height and had curly hair and a sweet smile. Mike was a tall, athletic looking kind of guy who looked slightly familiar, like he had seen him play football or some other sport on campus. Finally there was Eddie, he quietly said his name and Richie couldn’t help but smile.

“Y-y-you b-better play some guh-good music.” Bill piped up.

“What’s wrong with the music?” Eddie exclaimed, crossing his arms standing in a defensive position.

“Its utter crap, that’s what wrong.” Stan said looking at Eddie.

“Well, I think it’s alright.” Eddie replied haughtily.

“Well, I think you’re wrong this time Eddie.” Stan spit fired back.

“Have no fear, record boy is here to save the day!” Richie said running up to the DJ booth to resolve the situation. He got to the computer and was disappointed to see that what the rink used was just a Spotify premium account to play their music. Shaking his head he got to work to find the perfect song to play. It didn’t take him long before he confidently selected Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham!.

The instant he started the track he could hear the entire group scream, and he looked up to see them make their way to the rink. He could see Eddie looking up at him in the DJ booth, shaking his head and smiling as he took off in his white skates after his friends. Richie watched as they all skated in circles laughing and singing at the top of their lungs. Eddie was putting on a performance clearly enjoying the song as he sang the loudest and would get low, snapping his fingers to the beat and would occasionally begin spinning in circles while shaking his hips.

The song came to an end, and Eddie could feel how out of breath he was. He had to admit that Richie did have some decent taste in music, especially as the next song came on and Eddie nearly screamed. Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me blared through the speakers. Eddie took off in a hot fury letting the rock music take him over completely. As he skated away he could see Richie looking down at him smiling ear to ear and singing along to the music as well, bobbing his head back and forth to the music. He felt butterflies form in his stomach, he had never seen someone so beautiful; the way Richie’s unruly curls bounced up and down as he danced to the music and the soft smile that made Eddie feel like he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Eddie could see Richie staring down at him and Eddie decided he wanted to show off a little bit. He started to move his hips in a fluid movement and ran his hands up his side and across his chest. Weaving his skates so he was skating backwards, and that way Richie could only see the back of him. He then spun around just as the song ended and right as he reached the edge of the DJ booth.

The rest of the night seemed to fly by as Richie played a wonderful array of songs that pleased everyone. The track was getting close to shutting down and Eddie was tired, he had skated the entire time he was there, which was getting close to three hours. His legs were burning pleasantly and his hair was damp with sweat. Eddie made his way to a bench to take off his skates. He wheeled up to the dinky, small bench, sat down, and proceeded to slide his skates off, massaging his feet in hopes to dull the stinging pain from skating for so long.

“Hey, we are all going to go to the diner down the street for some food, want to tag along?” Mike said sitting down next to Eddie.

“Yeah sure, let me just finish up here and I’ll meet you there!” Eddie said enthusiastically. Even though he was very health conscious, he couldn’t pass up a strawberry milkshake every now and again. Eddie put his skates in his backpack and made his way out of the rink and walked the three blocks to the diner he was meeting everyone at. Eddie was the first to arrive at the diner and asked for a booth to hold all six of the losers.

Ten minutes passed before he heard the bell above the diner’s door jingle, and the loud voices of Ben, Bev, Stan, Bill, Mike, and Richie followed after. Eddie panicked as he saw the tall dark haired Richie walk in with the rest. He didn’t think Richie would be joining them. Eddie’s chest tightened as the group made it to the table and he could see Richie sliding in to sit right next to him.

“Well, hello, confetti Eddie with a side of Spaghetti!” Richie said placing his arm behind Eddie.

Eddie tensed up as he felt Richie’s arm lace around the top of his shoulders. He could feel his heart leap into his throat and he choked out, “Don’t call me that.”

“Sure thing, Eds.” Richie replied with a smile, giving him a little wink.

Eddie could feel himself blushing; he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he thought the nicknames Richie had already given him were quite cute, and maybe made his heart flutter a little. The waitress came over to take everyone’s orders and Eddie ordered his usual strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream. Bill and Stan ordered a plate of fries to share, Ben and Bev both ordered a chocolate milkshake, Mike got a burger and fries, and Richie got a double cheeseburger with extra fries. The group looked at him after he stated what he wanted.

“Jesus, Ruh-Richie, get eh-enough food?” Bill asked good naturedly.

“I’m a growing boy, Big Bill, a young man needs his protein.” Richie stated.

“Do you know how unhealthy all that is?” Eddie said with a bit of disgust in his voice.

“Aw, Eds, tell me something I don’t know.” Richie replied pinching Eddie’s cheek.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Eddie in a playful whiny voice pushing Richie softly.

Just as Eddie pushed Richie the waitress arrived with all their food, placing each order right in front of its respective order-er, and they all began to eat their food. Richie was talking to Bill and exchanging phone numbers so they could hang out and play video games some time. The rest were making small talk, talking about their week, classes, and cracking jokes. Eddie sipped on his milkshake silently keeping to himself as the others inter mingled. He quietly observed how the addition of Richie to the group seemed to make the group seem more complete than before. He smiled a little as he glanced over at Richie to see him throwing fries back and forth laughing.

“Why you so quiet over there?” Ben asked.

“Huh? Me? I’m just tired that’s all.” Eddie replied leaning on the table slowly resting his head down.

“Do you wa-want to g-go back to your d-d-...dorm?” Bill inquired.

“Yeah, I think I am going to head back.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?” Mike offered with his ever-kind smile.

“No, I think I’ll be alright.” Eddie said and started to scoot out of the booth.

“I don’t think so, Spaghetti, I’ll give you a ride.” Richie said scooting out of the booth grabbing his keys out of his pocket.

“No, you don’t have to do that, Richie.” Eddie objected.

“The pleasure is mine.” He bowed dramatically, allowing Eddie to walk in front of him.

Eddie could feel his airway tighten as he made his way out of the diner, waiting for Richie to follow behind him to his car. Richie soon caught up to Eddie after saying bye to the rest of the losers, “Ready to go, Spaghetti Man?” Richie inquired as he led the way to his beat-up, used car.

Richie opened the passenger side door for Eddie to climb in. The smell of cigarettes and leather greeted Eddie’s nostrils, and he had hoped that the smell of cigarettes was from the previous owner and not Richie. The driver’s side door opened and Richie hopped into the car.

“What hall do you live in?” Richie asked as he started up the car.

“Mayfair Hall on the south side of campus.” Eddie replied pulling his sweater around his hands.

“Alrighty, Mayfair Hall it is.” Richie backed out of the diner.

As soon as they were out on the road Eddie saw Richie reach into his pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He could feel his heart drop; Eddie hated smokers, how could someone do that to their body? Eddie watched as Richie lit the cigarette while they were at a stoplight.

“Could you not smoke in front of me please?” Eddie pleaded.

“You’re going to make me waste a perfect cigarette?” Richie whined.

“I will get out of this fucking car right now if you don’t.” He threatened.

Richie just stared at him as he took a long drag from the cigarette and blew it back out the corner of his mouth. “You better fucking not.”

“Watch me.” Eddie said as he undid his seat belt and opened the passenger side door and slammed it shut, walking as fast as he could away from the car. He had never felt so repulsed but attracted at the same time. The way Richie held the cigarette between his fingers made it look like it was meant to be there. The way Richie stared down at him as he blew the smoke out of his mouth made his breath hitch. Eddie shook away the thought and stormed down the street. He could see Richie’s car sneak up behind him and Eddie quickened his pace.

“Eds, what the fuck, get back in the car!” Richie shouted.

“No!” Was all Eddie felt he needed to yell back.

“Eddie, seriously get in the fucking car, it’s freezing out!”

“I am not getting in the car!” Eddie stopped in his tracks turning on his heel to look defiantly at Richie.

“Eds, please…get back in the car.” Richie pleaded, hoping the sincerity of his words reached his eyes as he implored the other boy.

Eddie just stared back at him with crossed arms. He watched in a small amount of awe as Richie took his pack of cigarettes, held them up for Eddie to see, and chucked them out the window. Eddie watched the pack of cigarettes land on the opposite side of the road, and Eddie felt his jaw drop. He barely knew Richie and he had just thrown an almost new pack of cigarettes out of his car. For Eddie.

“Will you get in the damn car now?” Richie asked, but there was a small, hopeful smile on his lips.

Saying nothing, but feeling his cheeks warm slightly, Eddie gave in and climbed back into the passenger side of the car. He clicked his seatbelt in and sat there with his arms crossed, waiting for the car to start moving, but they were still stopped. Eddie looked over at Richie to see him staring at him, “Well I know not piss you off.” Richie said.

“Pick up the damn cigarettes. I won’t have you littering on my behalf. But you BETTER throw them away.” Eddie snipped quickly, looking back out the window.

Richie just smiled at the other boy before opening his door and leaning out to grab the discarded pack.

As Richie got back in the car Eddie could feel his eyes peering over at him. Eddie just sat there, still silent, staring out the front window as Richie took off once again, heading towards campus. Eddie could start to feel the guilt wash over him… had he been too harsh? Did Richie think he was a total ass now? Did he just ruin everything?

These thoughts solidified deeper and deeper in his mind as the seconds went on. Eddie looked down at his hands that were resting in his lap and began to fidget with his fingers. How could he subtly let Richie know that he still wanted talk, and maybe even see him outside of the rink? Eddie wanted to know more about this trashmouth that sent his heart fluttering every time he looked at him, he wanted to know if Richie was feeling the same thing every time their eyes met. His thoughts were stopped as Richie pulled up to his hall. Eddie looked up to be greeted with Richie looking down at him with the cutest smile Eddie had ever seen. Eddie could feel a small tug at the corner of his lips.

“Uh, thank you.” He said, a little awkwardly. “I…appreciate it.”

“Sure thing, Spaghetti head.” Richie nodded with a small smile, looking into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie nodded back curtly, and began to get out of the car, before he stopped again. He reached into his bag to grab a loose pen before he turned to Richie and grabbed his hand, quickly jotting down his number. He looked up to see Richie smiling, “See you around.” Eddie replied, blushing a little.

When Richie finally got back to his own room, he chucked the pack of cigarettes into the trash.

TAGS: @eddie-kas @welcome-assholes

#Reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #stanely uris #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #AU: College #au: modern #fan fiction #roller rink #aesthetic #punk!Richie #pastel!Eddie #YTMBA-Reddie #it 2017 #it fandom

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exxar1 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 13: Ambassador Kosh, The Smoking Caterpillar, And Six Months Saved

3/16/2021

One of my favorite sci-fi shows from the 1990s is Babylon-5. It takes place on a space station in neutral territory between various warring alien and human empires in the mid twenty-third century. One of the alien characters, Ambassador Kosh, is fond of asking those around him, “Who are you?” Kosh is a Vorlon, a mysterious, cryptic species who’s true physical nature is hidden from others by an elaborate encounter suit. No one has ever been to their homeworld, and the Vorlons rarely interact with other species around them, so when one asks “Who are you?”, it’s a significant question that implies a need for an honest, significant, soul-searching answer.

That is a question I’ve been asking myself a lot these past few months. This week is the six month anniversary of my salvation. Looking back, it feels like I’ve crossed a gulf wider and deeper than the Grand Canyon. September 17th seems like almost a lifetime ago. And yet, it also feels like it was just yesterday. So much has changed in my life, and yet so much is still the same.

The other day I was looking back over my previous log entries from this new journey. The one from October 10th leaped out at me as I reread it:

“I just recently realized how much we change throughout our adult lives as we get older. Those passions and desires and things that interest us and consume our time when we’re in our twenties are not necessarily the same passions, desires, and things that we care about in our forties, or our fifties, or our sixties. We as people are not just flesh and blood. We are conscious, thinking, emotional, intellectual human beings, and the parts of us that make us who we are are those passions, desires, interests, and things that we care about. It’s what makes me me.

Some of those qualities can be defined as hobbies or interests, the things that I do in my spare time or what I’m passionate about in life. The fact that I have always been a science fiction fan, for example, or my writing. Other qualities can be emotional, or intellectual, or parts of me that aren’t necessarily physical. The fact that I’m gay, for example; or that I love to read, or that I’m an introvert, or that I once used to be an Atheist.

In other words, those things that make up who we are as an individual human being, that define us to the world and to other people around us, are not always constant or unchanging. And that’s what I had never realized until now. I have always been happy living my life on my own, by my own terms, and I found peace in being alone. I have never felt the need to have that “special someone” in my life, but now, for reasons I cannot explain, I’m no longer content with that. I think this is why so many people at this point in their mid-lives have a crisis. They buy a new car or get divorced or change careers. Perhaps my loneliness is nothing more than a mid-life crisis?”

At the time, I was attributing all my recent angst and internal unrest to aging, but now I recognize this for what it really was – and still is: sanctification. (or maybe it’s a little of both.) 2 Corinthians 5:17, one of the first verses that I had memorized long, long ago in Sunday school, says, “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” It’s one thing to know about a process, but quite another thing entirely to actually experience that process firsthand.

Who am I?

My name is Neal Timothy Jones, I was born on June 4, 1978, I currently weigh 205 lbs., stand at a glorious height of 5’5”, have blue eyes, brown hair – which I’m very slowly but surely losing (more than in the back than the front, I’d say), and a goatee that is now more silver than brown. My favorite color is blue. I’m a brother, a son and an uncle, but not a father or a husband. I was born and raised in Twin Falls, Idaho, and I’m an introvert. I’m often shy, quiet, used to have a hard time speaking up for myself and was afraid to be myself for fear of ridicule and shame. I’m a sci-fi fan (Star Trek in particular) and an avid Super Mario Brothers player. (If that was an Olympic sport I would hold a gold medal for most games conquered and exceptional fire flower skill.) I also read a lot, and, lately, I have a very hard time shutting off my brain. I’m always overthinking, overanalyzing, and overly critical of both myself and those around me.

My favorite food is Italian, especially pizza and pasta (hence the 205 pounds), and I despise coconut. I mean, like really, really hate it. Whoever decided that shredded coconut should be a topping on desserts should be strung up by their apron strings and crucified in their kitchen. Coconut – especially shredded coconut – has absolutely no taste for one, and for two, it has all the texture of grass. It’s vile and disgusting.

I have type 2 diabetes, and I’m a good twenty-five pounds overweight. I’ve always hated exercise. Yes, I enjoyed running around the playground and being outdoors in general when I was a kid, but I hated organized sports. I suffered one year of soccer in 7th grade because my parents insisted I needed to get out and do something besides always being alone under a tree with a book in between classes. (I think they were worried about my anti-social behavior far more than they actually let on.) That one year led to a life long revulsion of sports in general. Seriously, I don’t get it. Running up and down a field, chasing a ball or trying to make a goal – *yawn*. So overrated.

Also, for that matter, is competition. I’m probably the least competitive person anyone knows. I really couldn’t care less whether or not my coworkers beat me in upsells and product promotions. I don’t give a damn if my friends or family make more money than I do. I have no desire to rise the corporate ladder and be king of my local branch. I don’t really care what my house looks like on the outside compared to my neighbors. Nor do I give a rat’s ass if my car is the nicest one in the neighborhood. (And, frankly, given the neighborhood I currently live in, I most definitely do not want a super nice car that would attract nearby thieves.) I really do just march to the beat of my own drum, and if you’d like join me, great! If not, oh well. You do your own thing, and you be you. I’m not going to care one way or the other.

Who am I?

I’m gay. Or, rather, I was. Or maybe I still am. I honestly don’t know. And that’s been my problem lately. Clear back in September, right after I was saved, I was sure of two things: one, that I was saved and new child of God, and two, that I was gay. In just six months, though, I’m not so sure of that latter one anymore.

It’s funny how we sometimes take one thing in our lives – our marriage, our job, our sexuality, or maybe that one hobby or spare time interest – and we build our whole self-identity around that. For me, it was being gay. That was who I was, and I centered my entire self-identity around that one thing as soon as I left high school. After I left the Army, after returning home to Twin Falls and enrolling at the College of Southern Idaho, I immediately joined the Gay-Straight Alliance on campus. I spoke up for gay rights, and I even helped organize a petition for a gay float in the local Western Days parade. (I honestly can’t remember if we ever really accomplished that or not. I do remember the city council not being very happy with our little request.)

I watched pretty much anything on TV that had gay stories and/or main characters. Shows like Will & Grace, Queer As Folk, and Six Feet Under were my favorites. Same for the movies. Hollywood was my religion, the local cineplex my church. Celebrities like Ellen Degeneres were my idols, and I did my best to follow their wisdom and lifestyles. Throughout college and my early adult life afterwards, whenever I introduced myself to new friends and co-workers, I was quick to let them know I was gay. I was proud of that, and anyone who disagreed with that or tried to tell me I was wrong for living that way would quickly get shut down by my new, independent spirit and debating skills. I bought t-shirts with slogans like “I don’t even think straight” or which just had the symbol of the rainbow flag on the front.

Everything else was secondary, and when my life moved online to social media, I made sure to put my sexual orientation front and center on all my bios. I connected even more to the greater national gay community by joining Facebook pages that promoted gay rights, and I followed many gay activists and celebrities on Twitter and Instagram. In recent years, especially after moving to Las Vegas, I did quiet down a little with the in-your-face attitude, due more to aging than anything else. It was no longer that important than every single new friend or co-worker know right away that I was gay. Instead of announcing it with the first handshake, I let the subject come up organically in regular conversation. I also purchased Apple watch bands made in rainbow colors or plastic bracelets of the same design to wear as a silent testimony of my proud lifestyle.

Who am I?

One of my favorite scenes in Disney’s Alice In Wonderland is the one where Alice is confronted by the smoking caterpillar. He repeatedly demands of the young, lost and confused heroine, “Who. Are. You?” (Each word is punctuated by a perfectly shaped ring of cartoon smoke.)

In recent weeks and months, there have been days when I have stood in front of the mirror above my bathroom sink, looking at my reflection with puzzlement and curiosity, asking that very same question. Some days, I have felt like a true warrior of God, leaping from bed, excited to rush into the world and live the truth of Christ. Other days, I have felt small and weak, and conflicted, and wondering why I have kept giving in to the old lust of the flesh and breaking my vow of celibacy. (Yes, even just giving in to old desires and lusts in the mind’s eye are a sin in the presence of God. It doesn’t necessarily have to go as far as an actual, physical act with another man.)

One evening, about three weeks ago, as I got ready for bed, I was reflecting on my day. It was one of those mediocre days, not too bad, but not really exciting or exceptional either. I was feeling a little down and discouraged, but I couldn’t say exactly why. I sat on the edge of my bed, lost in thought, and tracing absently with my right index finger the outline of the tattooed cross on my left bicep. Since the tattoo was barely a week old, most of it was still one large scab, and I had been fighting the recent urge to pick at it. I glanced down and saw the plastic rainbow bracelet on my right wrist, right next to the other bracelet with white stars and a blue strip on a black background.

As if by some spiritual instinct, I reached out with my left hand and pulled that rainbow bracelet off. I held it up, examining it for a few moments, and then I opened the drawer of my nightstand. I tossed the bracelet inside and shut the drawer. I sat for a minute or two, thinking about what I had just done, and then I got up and marched across the hall into my office. I opened the bottom left drawer of my desk and rifled through the several dozen Apple watch bands that have accumulated there over the last few years. I pulled out all the ones that were rainbow striped or rainbow colored. I threw them in the trash. I also threw away the bag of rainbow bracelets (they had been 20 for $5 on Amazon). I turned out the light and shut the office door.

I went to bed that night feeling more at peace than when I had first asked Jesus into my heart just a few months before.

The next day, during my lunch break at Walmart, I went through all my social media accounts and removed the word ‘gay’ from my bios, as well as any emoji symbols such as the rainbow flag. That, too, felt right. I was now just ‘Christian’, not ‘gay Christian.’

I’m still honestly not sure what this means. Part of me has felt utterly terrified, as if I’m erasing more than just part of who I’ve been for all my adult life. The one thing that was the core of my self-identity has been essentially wiped away, as if God was one of the workers in the amusement park of Westworld, another of my favorite shows. In that not-so-distant future setting, the human-like androids are often re-programmed by the park’s engineers to change their personalities or even their entire character to match whatever new story is going to be enacted for the park’s biological visitors and tourists. Ever since my salvation, I have often felt that God is reprogramming me in the same way, erasing parts of the old sinful self and rewriting new software, giving me a new core identity. Right now, that process of sanctification has only just begun, and, hence, there are days when I don’t quite know what to call myself. Yes, I’m a Christian. Yes, I am a child of God. But I feel like there should be more than just that. I feel like the loss of my old identity means that that I also have nowhere to belong; there is currently no new community in which I can plug myself in order to have the same sense of friendship and comradery that I once had with my fellow gays.

And yes, I know what you’re already saying to your phone or computer screen as you read this: “Neal,” you say, “just being a child of God is enough. Just calling yourself a Christian is enough. That is the new community that you now belong to.”

Yeah, I know. But, at the same time, I still feel incomplete. Don’t ask me why. I feel like those Lego sets I used to play with as a kid. My favorites were the spaceships, especially the really big ones that came with about two hundred individual pieces. I liked those the best because I had the choice of either building the ship pictured on the front of the box, or I could assemble a different ship entirely using the same pieces but fitting them together in different ways. I feel like God is doing that with me right now. He’s completely disassembled me from the inside out, and his Spirit is slowly and gradually reassembling me into something totally new.

Part of me wishes He would just hurry the hell up and get to the finished product already! Why is He taking so long?? But the other part of me – the part that I am slowly coming to recognizing as the voice of the Holy Spirit is gently, firmly reminding me that this process can take a lifetime; that I need to learn to be patient and wait upon the Lord.

Who am I?

I am ALL of those things that I listed above – yes, even the homosexual. God hasn’t changed that completely. But that particular Lego piece is now on the worktable with all the others. And I no longer feel a need to advertise to anyone and everyone that I am still gay. For now, I am just ‘Christian.’ And I’m looking for a church family where I can truly belong.

I recently finished reading a book that dealt with this exact topic. The author is Greg Coles, someone I’ve mentioned before in these posts. The book is titled No Longer Strangers: Finding Belonging in a World of Alienation. There are many, many lovely and beautiful passages in the book where Greg gives his own testimony of finding his place in his particular part of the world and his church community after coming out as a gay Christian in 2017. But there are two passages, specifically, that I found most inspirational in my own journey of trying to find the church family in which God wants to place me. I’ve already posted them on my social media, but I’m going to quote them again here.

The first is from Chapter 5: Hide and Seek:

“But God—the real God—has only ever been interested in loving us, in redeeming us, in transforming us. He has no interest in an army of clones, a horde of wax figures and cardboard cutouts sent to approach him in bold unanimity while his heterogeneous flesh-and-blood children crouch in the shadows.

Those of us who love Jesus are indeed called to find our paramount identity in him. Every other identity is placed in submission to Christ, upturned and radically reordered by the logic of the kingdom of God. But our particularities are not erased in the process. We are not recycled paper, blended into a pulp and recast as a blank sheet. We are a painted canvas in the hands of a master restorer, painstakingly cleansed and healed and remade until we finally become the irreplicable artwork we were always intended to be.”

That ‘irreplicable artwork’ is what I cannot wait to see! That’s what I’m eagerly waiting for – that finished masterpiece. But I also know from the testimonies of my parents and Pastor Mark, as well as ones that I’ve read online from other Christian authors, is that there is a real possibility that I might never see that completely finished work; that God, in His infinite wisdom and grace, is never entirely finished with us. And that’s okay too. That’s what I need to recognize and reconcile with right now. The old saying really is sometimes true: it’s the journey that matters more than the destination. But, along the way, God does not want me to just melt into His crowd, to be one more clone in the Christian army. Instead, as Greg points out, God wants each of us to stand out, to share our unique gifts and talents with the body of Christ and with the world around us. We need to shine for Him, and we can’t do that if we just hide away, afraid to be more than just another smiling face in the crowd.

The other passage, the one that brought me to tears, was the final paragraphs of the book:

“I am my Beloved’s. He is mine. We belong in one another, with one another, to one another. We always will. We’re not going anywhere.

I’m not the only one making these vows with heaven, to be sure. A symphony of voices joins mine in the air. The song includes married folks as well as celibates like me, straight and gay and everything else. Our choir represents every race, every language, every nation.

But despite the grandeur of the choir, Christ still hears and responds to each individual voice. He isn’t content to declare his affection for us in form letters and megaphone announcements. He whispers to us one by one, into your ear and mine, exchanging promises of love. As long as these promises remain true—as long as our fragile memories can hold them—home will never be further than a whisper in our ears, never further than an ink drop beneath our skin. We are loved. And because we are loved, we belong.”

I have re-read that passage so many times over the last couple weeks, savoring it like piece of gold, a treasure of beauty and real wisdom. Greg’s completely right. Not only does God want us, just as we are, no matter how broken, how lost, or how sinful, but He also wants for us to belong in Him, and Him alone. This small piece of wisdom seems at once so simple and yet so complex. I have had to remind myself almost every day, especially those days when I’m feeling lonely, or a little lost, or discouraged because the church that I had hoped was going to be my new home didn’t work out after all, that I am first and foremost a child of God. I belong only – and solely – in Him. I need to understand that that is all that matters right now. The rest will come in time. Perhaps once I have understood and fully absorbed this first and important truth, then God will begin providing unto me the rest of his desired blessings and, especially, belonging within a new church family.

As a result of these blog posts, I have had the immense blessing and pleasure of reconnecting with old friends who had once taught and reared me when I was that stubborn, contrary, rebellious kid who gave out more sass and disrespect than a Las Vegas drag queen in a nightclub. One of those friends shared a quote by Leonard Ravenhill with me a few days ago that immediately touched my heart. I printed it off and taped it to the bottom frame of one of my computer monitors in my home office.

“Great eagles fly alone; great lions hunt alone; great souls walk alone – alone with God!”

The friend who shared this helped me to see that same truth that Greg pointed out in that second passage that I quoted above. It’s okay for me to stand apart from the crowd – Christian or otherwise. It’s okay for me to continue marching on my own. The only difference between my old life and this new, blessed one is that God is now marching beside me. He has changed the beat of my drum, and He has “…begun a good work” in me, as Paul says Philippians 1:6, and that work will not be completed until “…the day of Jesus Christ.” But, if I’m honest, I will say that, on most days, I don’t feel like the lion or the eagle. Not just yet. I feel more like a church mouse from a Beatrix Potter tale, crouching in the shadow of my Lord and Savior, and letting Him do His thing on my behalf.

One of my other favorite quotes that has had a special significance to me these last few months is by Socrates. He once stated, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” I think God would agree, and the best form of self examination should always start with the following question:

Who am I?

#Christian #spirituality #gay #personal growth #sanctification

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boyfriendnumbertwo · 4 years ago

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The Finessa

Her name was Vanessa. She was 28 I think. I met her the first night I was out with her friend Jessica. Jessica was a couple years older than V and beautiful. But she was not in Vanessa's class. When V came over to J to say hello I damn neared pushed J away never to be heard from again.

Vanessa had the type of beauty that makes grown men do things they swore they never would. I'm grown men.

Let me back up a little. I met Jessica on Tinder. Both swiped, I messaged but she didn't respond. Sent another message a week later something to the effect of if you don't take this chance how will ever know if I was The One. Anyway, she replied, we made a plan to meet at Dave & Busters the next Friday. She was super late arriving. Not fashionably late, like super late. I was pretty tipsy on vodka Red Bulls when she did arrive. We gamed, drank, laughed, took pics. It was fun. Then she suggested we go to a club in downtown Milwaukee. We drove together in my car. The club is a Mediterranean restaurant by day called Casablanca.

That just happens to be my favorite movie of all time, but anyway. They convert the upstairs into a club, DJ, strobe lights, belly dancers, and a huge bar in the center. The people where beautiful. The bouncers, bartenders, everyone was on point. We found a place on the bar, she knew everyone and introduced me around. When Vanessa came over I was honestly awestruck. She had curly black her to her shoulders and the biggest hoops earrings I’ve seen this side of NYC. She seemed Puerto Rican maybe, something, I couldn’t put my finger on it. She was with a wannabe gangster who didn’t seem to be paying her much attention. She hung with J and I for a good chunk of the night. I remember telling J I thought V seemed pretty “ghetto”. Little did I know at the time.

By the next time Jessica and I went out, she and V were no longer speaking. I know that happens with women, ya’ll fall out from time to time, but it seemed really sudden to me. It was all good just a week ago. So anyway, we (me and J) went out maybe 2-3 more times but I could sense she wasn’t feeling me. In my opinion she was still hung up on her ex. She had two kids by this ninja, but he was now shacked up with a “fat heffa”. Her words, not mine. Time went by, I stopped going to Milwaukee and started dated a couple different women around my age and locally. It was fine, I had lots of sex, but there was joy or spark. I was following V on instagram and one night decided to shoot my shot. Just dropped in a hello, remember me, you look good. Always thought you were pretty cool and if you’re not seeing anyone can I call you sometime? She replied, we chatted and scheduled to hit a different club the following weekend.

Vanessa opened my eyes to a different side of Milwaukee. Clubs I didn’t know were there. Black clubs, Hispanic clubs, new people. It was pretty cool. She also filled me in on J’s game. She told me that last time I saw them both at the club and I drove over to meet she actually was on another date. She wanted V to cover and run buffer between us two. Damn, that knowledge really filled in the pieces because that was a weird night. That’s why they fell out.

Vanessa was fun, and as I mentioned earlier so beautiful. She was from Belize, and her dad was black. Long black hair, nails always 100, and golden brown complexion. She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. But her money was funny. She had a good job, but didn’t like the 9-5 rat race. One night while we were bouncing from club to club her phone got shut off. She went into instant depression mode. I couldn’t have her down like that so I called up and paid it on the spot. She rewarded me, I guess, but felt like that should have been worth more than some kinda lame head.

One night she says I’m going to treat tonight, drinks are on her. I said cool, bet because she was expensive. (She drank Hennessy on the rock with a red bull on the side. Shit’s like $12-15 per drink. I taught her how to sneak henny in a flask to preserve funds after the first couple dates.) She’s like Ill treat but first we gotta stop at my brother’s house. Ok, I waited in the car for like 30-40 minutes she comes back finally. Ok let’s go to this other club first. Fine, we go and she’s like at the table, to the bathroom, at the table, to the bathroom. I’m thinking WTF? A couple hours later she says let’s go to Casa. Cool, bet that’s my favorite. But first we gotta go to my brother’s again. Huh? Ok, anything for you sexy ass. I’m sitting on the street, my car running not knowing if this is really her brother’s place or what. Hood was sketchy. She comes back, ok let’s go. Turns out, she was slanging pills and blow on the side. Hence all the back and forth to the bathroom and resupplying at her brother’s place. I recall looking at myself in the mirror, asking if this is what my life had come to. This wasn’t me. My Self replied, ok but look at her. JUST LOOK!

Anyway, we probably dated for three months total. I was smitten, we had sex, it was ok. I thought with a body like hers it would be better, but her heart wasn’t in it. The last time we went out was a trip. She liked to start early during happy hour. The plan was always start early when it’s cheap, dance a while, get some food, then go home and fuck. Rarely did it go that way. That last night we started real early, but I couldn’t get her to go home. She was getting drunker and drunker, chatting up every dude in the place, and getting belligerent. Shit was embarrassing and I decided before I even got her home I was done with her drug dealing ass. Beauty be damned, I had to have some self respect. She tried for days to get me to take her back, then finally snapped on me. Sent some long ass nutty text about stay out of Milwaukee, lol. Glad I dodged that bullet, but damn I miss seeing her sexy eyes and smile.

#dating #Vanessa #younger women #agegap #we be clubbin

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lucasburch · 4 years ago

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#Cat Peeing When Left Alone Jaw-Dropping Useful Ideas #Scag Cats Eye Gold Spray Paint 48521

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