#I feel like Andrew keeps his keys close and his car under his control for obvious reasons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beyscape · 5 years ago

Text

The Intern - 2

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: Being Andy’s intern meant you got to spend more time by his side more than anyone. This was fine, however, until feelings got in the way and made things complicated

Word Count: 2.4k (can you tell I get carried away? ‘cause I get carried away)

Warnings: Age gap, technically cheating, swearing and stuff, mention of rape

A/N Contains spoilers from episodes 1-4.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Andrew Stephen Barber was a good man by all means. A good citizen, a good father, an exceptional defense attorney, trying his best to be a good husband, Andy Barber believed he was a good man. Standing in the line to grab a cup of coffee, however, made him question his entire belief system. He had tried to ignore the hushed whispers, the pointed looks, the way whenever he entered a room it would all go very silent for a second; he had told Jake and Laurie to ignore them, that they didn’t know anything. That that’s what people do, gossip. He was now really understanding how hard it was to simply ignore when people were so blatant with their gossiping. With their cold stares.

He never had friends, not proper ones where he could grab a beer with after work or talk to them about whatever was going on in his mind. He thought he did, but these past couple of weeks proved how much of his supposed friends were mere acquaintances. It never bothered him anyways, he never felt the particular need for that sort of closeness in his life. He was used to being alone, that’s how he had grown up, not needing anyone and learning how to survive on his own. He had his son and his wife, though latter feeling as far away as any stranger would at that point. They simply had stuff to take care of together, Andy could feel that Laurie was itching to finally get away once the dust settled. So, when the inevitable papers arrived finally, Andy would be left to his devices one more time..

But then again, there was you.

His gaze turned to you, watching your movements as you waited in the passenger seat of his car, your head laying against the window. He watched you fiddle with the ends of your hair, clearly lost in thought, and it took everything in him to not smile. Poker faces, Joanne had said to them, they had to keep their cool and not lose their composure, not with so many eyes around them. Waiting to catch a mistake, a single slip of the tongue, the smallest of gestures.

He thanked the barista quietly after grabbing the two paper cups of the coffee placed in front of him, pushing the glass doors with his feet as best as he could without sending the cups in his hands flying. No one in the relatively packed coffee shop made a move to help him. He hadn’t expected them to anyways.

His movement grabbed your attention at last as he made his way towards the black car parked towards the back of the lot, a smile spread on your lips then. It was the same one you gave him when he wasn’t looking, that shy, small smile seemingly lighting up your face with adoration. This time it wasn’t when he was unaware though, and even that thought was a whole another thing to make you happy even amidst everything going on. This time Andy couldn’t help it as a smile matching yours very closely appeared on his face as well upon seeing the look you gave him.

Many things in Andy Barber’s life was royally fucked up and it had been for some time now, but a tiny voice in his head quipped up to remind him that not everything was bad, not the young woman smiling up at him. Andy felt a surge of gratefulness fill his chest.

That night at the park he had acted on his impulses, he tried to chalk it up to him being tired, confused, what with everything going on. You were a friendly face he had stumbled upon on a night filled with desperation. His excuses didn’t last however and when he woke up the next morning, Andy knew he had to stop lying to himself. He tried to deny the fact that he had been wanting to kiss you for some time now, to hold you close but he had kept it all locked away in the deepest corner of his heart in the name of being professional. That, and he wanted to protect you. He knew any move on his part could very possibly lead to a mess of problems with his family and even more so with your work. Andy was well aware of how much you loved your job and the career plans you had told him that one night, and he couldn’t dismiss all of that just because he couldn’t keep his feelings under control.

That night at the park however, was the night where he decided he was done with keeping his feelings under control. He could do it in a courtroom in front of a judge, he could do it with the people of his once loved town scrutinizing his every move, he could do it under the cold stare of his wife, but not you. Not anymore.

So, under the dim light of the street lamp above and the shadows covering everywhere the light didn’t touch that one late night, he had kissed you. And even more surprisingly, didn’t regret it one bit. Not the way he thought he would have. If he had known before how easy it was to kiss you time after time in that cold night, Andy was sure he would have done it way earlier.

“Hi.” You said as you carefully grabbed your cup out of his hands, your eyes meeting his while your fingertips slightly grazed each other for a split second. You wished to reach over the seat, to get closer, you had waited enough for this moment, and he was so close, looking at you with that same deep softness in his eyes- you let out a shaky breath.

You had met the next day after the park, knowing damn well there was a lot to discuss. After kissing you, resting his forehead against yours and holding you close for a moment that felt too short, Andy had told you to go home and get some rest. He had insisted on dropping you off at the house you lived with your friend, the ten-minute car drive filled with silence save for the quiet tunes of the radio. He had placed the gentlest of kisses on your lips before giving you a tired smile, and only driving off once he saw you safely go in. It was another restless night with no way of sleep, but for the first time in a while, it was because of something good.

Finding an empty corner of the park was easy, even in the daylight the park didn’t host many visitors during that time of the year. You both were awkward at first, acting like high school lovers unsure of what to do or say to one another. After minutes of hushed conversation and reckless, stolen kisses you had come to a decision about keeping things extremely low-key. You and Andy were well aware that even though whatever this was between you was exciting and new, the top priority was defending Jacob and making sure he got his innocence proven. So, you had to keep things seemingly strictly professional, not allowing space for even the smallest of rumours.

It hadn’t been easy however, both desperate to see each other as soon as possible. Thus, here you were, sitting in his car drinking mediocre coffee, trying to avoid prying eyes.

“Hi yourself.” The twinkle in his eyes seemed to return in the past week, maybe not entirely but he was getting there. You talked about the case for a while, discussing other possible suspects and who could have done such a thing, when the fat droplets of rain started to fall and roll down the front window.

“Y/N, I want to tell you something.” The tone of his voice made you look at him carefully, you noted how his burrows were not furrowed with his lips cursed in a small scowl.

“You know you can tell me anything, Andy.” You replied, meaning every word. He sighed at that, clearly struggling with how to start.

“I never told this to anyone, and only told Laurie and Jacob vert recently because they had to know. My father, you see,” he trailed off, blowing on his still steaming coffee a little before taking a careful sip, doing everything he could do delay what he was about to tell you. He was scared of you hating him or being afraid of him or even worse, pitying him once he revealed his darkest of secrets, but he knew that sooner or later it would come up in the case. He thought at least he could be the first one to let you in on the skeletons he had deep in his closet. He sighed again, his gaze following the rain droplets, he couldn’t bring himself to face you in that moment.

“He wasn’t a good man. When I was about five years old, he raped and murdered a college girl, she was barely nineteen. I, I struggled with that throughout my entire childhood even though I didn’t exactly understand what was going on. And when I was old enough to get it, it didn’t make things easier. It fucked me up and still, after almost forty years, the whole thing still haunts me. Haunts my thoughts, my dreams, and now with Jake’s case it all came rushing back. Like the dam I had built to keep it repressed broke suddenly and all of it just, flooded right in.” There it was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid of the reaction you would give, Andy wasn’t sure how he would take it if you acted the way Laurie had when she found out. He instantly regretted that he even made that comparison however when he felt your warm hand wrap up his, not quite being able to cover it all. He raised his eyes to yours.

“You are not alone anymore, Andy. Thank you for sharing this with me, and please know that from now on, you’ve got me in your corner. You no longer need to pretend everything’s just great; you have me. Talk to me, and we will get through it, okay? No matter what.” One hand wrapped around his big one, you placed another hand on his thigh, all you could do in that moment to reassure him that everything was fine.

He felt it again, that rush of warmth spreading in him as he stared at you in disbelief. How had you known those were the exact words he was internally dying to hear? His gaze traced your face, your eyes burning bright with determination, your lips, those beautiful lips he craved oh so much giving him a reassuring smile. He ran a ginger hand over the hair falling down your face, barely touching, hesitant to go too far that he couldn’t hold back. Painstakingly he had to remind himself that you were still in a public parking lot, where it was so easy to get caught even with the pouring rain outside of the car as he drew his hand back, resting it on top of yours, hidden completely from the view.

“I have to go see him in prison, and I don’t know if I can do it.” He confided in you, finding it so easy to talk about whatever was bothering him, scaring him… He had never had that kind of a connection before, not even with Laurie.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You didn’t think about the technicalities. You didn’t think about why that was probably a bad idea, there could be press around, how would you get the time off, what if people saw you and many more reasons why you shouldn’t didn’t even cross your mind for all you could focus on at that moment was how small Andy had looked when he uttered those words to you. This man with broad shoulders, well-built physique who commanded whatever room he entered had looked so small in that moment. Your eyes never left his, worried that if you broke the gaze the whole moment would shatter all around you. He nodded once. Twice.

“I would like that.” He looked around, his eyes scanning the surroundings for people, but the rain that had picked up its speed was acting as a curtain drawn between you and the rest of the world.

Satisfied with what he saw, Andy turned back to face you, cupping the sides of your face between his big hands. He leaned in without any hesitation holding him back, he had been waiting for an opportunity like this and heaven knows you were in the same position as him. Your lips met in the middle and immediately sent tingles down your spine, the gentleness of the kiss conveying so many words between. The kiss was different from the heated, passion filled ones at the park that night, and different from the secretive, exciting ones of the day after. No, this kiss was sweeter than them, so sweet you thought you could get drunk off of Andy’s lips, both of his hands still cupping your cheeks.

It was over in a moment, not satisfying the need as you hoped it would, instead it seemed to make your craving even harder to ignore.

You knew you would have to leave soon, before Neal started questioning why your coffee run had taken so long and Andy would have to go back to his house, trying to fend off the occasional reporters still waiting around his house to get one more statement from him. You both were uncomfortably aware of the pressing issues in your life, almost working together on purpose to keep you apart after a year of pining and dreaming.

“Soon”, Andy reassured you after placing kiss after kiss to your lips, to the corner of your mouth, on top of your nose. “Soon, this whole thing will blow out and we will be free to do whatever we want.”

“Together,” you kissed the palm of his hand still resting on your cheek, not wanting to let go, “we will figure it out together.”

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

I had to get this in writing before sleep so guess who went to bed at 5 a.m? I wanted to wait and watch episode 5 before writing some of the more important scenes, so here have whatever this is. My inbox is open for requests, asks, feedback or just to talk about Chris!

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fanfiction #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #andy barber imagine

388 notes · View notes

deus-ex-knoxina · 5 years ago

Text

au where andrew and aaron are wymack’s sons

okay tilda USED to be less of a disaster

like in canon, wymack doesn’t know he has kids. he and tilda split up only a few weeks after she got pregnant, so he was long gone by the time she even knew. it’s not like they were exclusive, either. while it’s a gut punch to learn andrew and aaron’s last name, and what happened to their mother, he figures they can’t be his.

of course, andrew and aaron don’t know either. but you know who does? riko, and by extension kevin

riko’s goal in recruiting andrew is a lot more specific now. instead of just ‘get a really good goalkeeper with a reputation’, it’s ‘get the really good goalkeeper with a reputation so he doesn’t sign with the foxes’.

of course, knowing wymack was their father would probably make the twinyards less inclined to sign with him, not more, but riko doesn’t know that. he doesn’t know them very well at all, and andrew has decided to keep it that way

(riko’s fatal mistake, again, is not recruiting aaron as well. if he had tried, then maybe andrew would have agreed-- or not. if he had tried to recruit nicky too, he probably would have stood a decent chance.)

wymack recruits andrew, aaron, and nicky, with absolutely no idea that he’s related to them, and they accept. riko gnashes his teeth.

he does so even more once they play the foxes that year. the ravens win, of course they do, but andrew aims shots at riko’s head, when he can. just a little reminder to that thick skull that andrew minyard personally dislikes him (as opposed to the general apathy he treats the rest of the population with)

when kevin runs to the foxes after the winter banquet, it’s not because wymack is his dad, because he’s not. it’s because wymack managed to snatch the minyards right out from under riko’s nose and keep them away from him, and if he can do that, then maybe he can keep kevin safe too

(he does. wymack wouldn’t be able to bear otherwise.)

and for a while, that’s how it stays. for a long time, actually. the year goes on. neil gets recruited, and the foxes’ futures start to look up. seth dies and andrew gets sent to easthaven and they look down again, and neil goes to evermore for winter break, and riko does not reveal anything. he bides his time.

(when wymack comes to get neil from the airport, neil is struck by how big wymack is. he’s not that tall-- he’s not short, but kevin and nicky and matt are all taller than him-- but he’s strong and sturdy.)

kevin, who knows the secret about wymack and the twins, has already catalogued all the similarities he can find between them. he’s had a lot of time to do so.

the reveal doesn’t happen until the final game. riko waits until he’s close enough to andrew to score, then right as he’s lining up his shot, he says, ‘you know, i was surprised when you signed with daddy dearest over there.’

andrew doesn’t dignify that with a response. if riko wants to play mind games, he can do so by himself. he does do his best to aim the ball at riko’s ankle. it ricochets off the wall, though, because riko is one of the few players good enough that andrew actually has to try to control the ball around him.

riko figures maybe he didn’t get through to andrew, or maybe andrew’s just obtuse, so that’s what he starts with next time he’s within earshot. ‘oh, didn’t you know wymack’s your dad? how does he feel about that car crash of yours?’

andrew grits his teeth, but he stays the course. he doesn’t need riko yelling about family history to aaron next, because aaron might hit him and then who knows what’ll happen. they can’t afford to lose a player.

that surprises him-- because what does he care how the game ends? but it matters, because to take riko out, they need to beat him at his own game, literally.

andrew does pick up on riko saying something to kevin before the next serve, and kevin stealing worried looks at andrew for the next five minutes.

well, then.

they make it through the game. andrew hisses at the other foxes to keep riko away from aaron, and for once, they don’t ask questions.

and they win.

andrew breaks riko’s arm, and then he says, calmly like he hasn’t spent the past twenty minutes contemplating it, ‘hm, at least my dad wants me.’ because he doesn’t know if riko is telling the truth (and he plans to find out from kevin), but he does know it would be an absolutely devastating comment, and andrew is all in favor of those.

and he also knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that wymack wants him, at least on the foxes if not in wymack’s personal life. wymack signed him and has dealt with all his shit and has bought him expensive whiskey in exchange for playing like he means it. wymack wants him around, which is more than riko can say about his father.

when they get off the court, andrew lets neil lean on him, but he finds kevin and asks, ‘what did he say to you?’

kevin looks at neil, exhausted but alert, and then at aaron over by the vixens, and then at wymack, and then finally back at andrew, and andrew has his answer. ‘so it’s true.’ and kevin nods.

and andrew decides he’s going to deal with that later. right now, he’s tired, and he wants to talk to bee before doing anything, just to figure out what to do, and at the moment kevin needs to go away and andrew needs to find a place to sit down because his legs are tired and neil, for all his running at ass o’clock in the morning, is too exhausted to even ask prying questions.

so he turns and walks out of that conversation, and neil follows, and andrew feels ready to eat ice cream and play video games for a week without a single mention of exy.

he doesn’t need to tell kevin to keep aaron in the dark for now, he’s pretty sure. kevin wouldn’t do something so instigating without a kick in the ass, and with aaron staying with matt now, there are way fewer chances for it to just slip out.

he talks to bee, and he talks to neil, and their methods are incredibly different but their suggestions are, funnily enough, the same. neil would probably be mortified to hear that revelation so andrew is saving it for a rainy day.

so he follows their advice, and he tells aaron, and aaron kicks a chair over but then he just stares at andrew for a second and then goes into his room and slams the door behind him. sulking is fine. aaron sulks, and then he gets over it, or at least fit to be in public again. this is something andrew knows about him. and he waits, and eventually aaron texts him a simple ‘what are we going to do’

and that’s how they find themselves driving to wymack’s the next saturday, music blasting in the car, but isn’t it funny how andrew can still hear the silence between them?

they’re better than they used to be, which is how andrew knows that this silence is something they both need, to steel themselves for the conversation they’re about to have. he parks the car, and turns off the radio, and they sit there for at least a minute before aaron says, ‘no deals. we tell him and that’s it.’

‘that sounds like a deal,’ andrew points out, just to be a shit, and aaron rolls his eyes at him but says, ‘no new deals with wymack. we don’t need one. he’s already got our contracts and you’re off your meds.’ and andrew agrees.

they get out of the car together, and they walk up to wymack’s apartment together, and aaron knocks before andrew can get his keys out but honestly, now that he thinks about it, aaron’s probably right. wymack should know they’re here and make the decision to let them in.

he does, and he raises an eyebrow when he sees who it is, but he doesn’t comment on them knocking because maybe he can feel the heaviness in the air, and he closes the door behind them and says, ‘what?’

that’s something andrew appreciates about wymack. he’s direct. which is why andrew says, ‘so did you know you’re our father, or did tilda keep that a secret too?’

wymack’s face drains of color and aaron says, ‘andrew,’ but he leaves it at that.

they stay at wymack’s for a long time, and andrew nabs a bottle of whiskey before they go, just to make sure wymack knows that he’s still the same person. if he really cared he’d get a lock for his liquor cabinet.

when they’re in the car, before they leave, aaron says, ‘what do we say to the rest of the team?’

andrew honestly hadn’t considered that. bee and neil and aaron and wymack and kevin all know, which is already a lot of people. probably nicky will have to be told at some point, and so will abby. he’s going to tell renee at some point. does it matter if the others know?

he voices that aloud, and aaron says, ‘i don’t know, but wymack might appreciate not having to keep it a secret.’ and that’s true. so they decide, because they’re both assholes, to wait for dan’s next full team mandatory bonding night

(wymack, still up in his apartment, is upset. not because of what they told him but of what it means-- if tilda had just told him, or if they’d split up a few weeks later, then he could have taken the twins, he absolutely would have taken the twins, and he could have prevented so much of the darkness in their lives. and it hurts, too, to know that tilda herself was responsible for a lot of that darkness. but that’s not what happened. and he’s pragmatic. he’s tried to help them ever since they signed with him and he doesn’t know how much success he’s had but they are doing better now than they were. he can try to keep that going, and he will keep that going. they deserve that.)

the mandatory bonding night happens a week later, everything is going great, occasionally people are raising eyebrows at how long andrew is staying because usually he leaves as soon as possible but whatever, and then kevin gets up and says he’s going to bed and like they planned (the plan was to wait until right before the first person leaves, so they can get everyone at once and also scatter), aaron immediately goes hey, kevin, wait, one last thing

and kevin is very, very prepared for this to be something stupid and/or incomprehensible, but he waits, and aaron says, ‘i just thought you should know that since wymack’s me and andrew’s dad that means you’re not the only son of exy anymore’

there’s a two second pause while people register what he said and then everyone loses their SHIT. allison is shrieking, nicky is just running around the room from person to person yelling in their faces, neil is laughing his ass off, dan looks like she really isn’t sure whether to believe him or not, and matt’s just kinda catatonic

eventually, dan decides to believe them and let it go. she doesn’t know the details, but their relationships with each other, the team, and wymack have all improved over the last year. if she gets in their faces right now about being assholes (as much as she wants to do just that), all their progress might be ruined.

and then andrew (and aaron, once he catches on) spends an entire practice calling wymack ‘male ancestor’ and dan figures they’ll be alright

she’s proved right later on, as the twins don’t take that long to get used to the idea of someone who’s already proved he’s on their side over and over being a part of their crafted family. it’s unorthodox and andrew definitely continues to steal alcohol but wymack locks the liquor cabinet and gives him a copy of the key, which seems like a completely futile exercise but keys are important, and keys given by someone else are even more important.

#my posts #twinyards #david wymack #aftg

163 notes · View notes

ila9182 · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! Shandy + 3. Thank youuu!

Hey anon, thank you so much for sending me this prompt ask! It’s an AU set in the Closer era, somewhere around season 7. I hope you will enjoy it!!

As always, mistakes are all mine.

For anyone who wants to send an ask, here is my post with the prompt list. Feel free to send me your request! Thank you so much!

——————————–

3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

Casualties at a crime scene, officers involved was the only communication Sharon had received from Lieutenant Staples. She had merely nodded, aware of the gravity of the matter and let out a sigh. She put down her purse and sat at her desk again. She needed to wait for some more updates to know if her presence at the crime scene was required. It was going to be a long night and Sharon knew that she wouldn’t go home any time soon. So much for her cozy evening with take-out food, cuddled on the couch with Andy…

Sharon smirked at the thought, Lieutenant Andy Flynn… They had been secretly together for more than a year. Their relationship had started as an uncomplicated one, just two coworkers unwinding after work, but before they had even realized, feelings had gotten in the way and all of a sudden they were discussing how much place they needed in each other’s closet for a change of clothes and essentials. Who would have thought that the hotheaded Lieutenant Flynn would show himself to be a loving and considerate boyfriend?

Her phone vibrated, interrupting Sharon’s train of thought and she froze when she read the text. It was a merely official communication but it was enough to stop her breathing, Major Crimes division involved, it said. Her mind went blank for a few seconds before she hurriedly looked for Andy’s number on her phone and called him.

Pick up, please, Sharon repeated in her mind like a mantra. Her heart thudded with each unanswered ring and when Andy’s phone went finally to voicemail, she felt like her heart skipped a beat. Sharon slowly stood from her chair, not really trusting her legs. She was shaking, her whole body was. She took a deep breath as her trembling hands reached for her trench coat. She put it on and grabbed her purse. She couldn’t wait for new updates, she couldn’t stay secluded in her office as the day could turn to be one of the worst of her life. With one last glance at her desk, she hurriedly walked out, her phone still in her hand.

Once in the elevator, Sharon tried to call Andy again. Pick up, please.It rang and rang and rang and each time, her heart rate hitched up another two beats. Her panic grew and her control began to crack. Her call remained unanswered and Sharon felt dizzy at the thought that maybe… She couldn’t bring herself to think that way. Sharon drew in a shaky breath and put her phone in the pocket of her trench coat as she opened her car door and got in.

————————

The crime scene was crowded. The blue and red flashing lights of the ambulances and police cars pierced the dark night. Paramedics and police officers blended into one crowd going back and forth aimlessly. Sharon had received a few updates during the drive, none of these satisfying. She had learnt very little; gunfire during a suspect’s apprehension, at least one death and two injured. Sharon got out of the car and jogged to the yellow tape delimiting the area.

Please God, let him be okay, please was the only thought echoing in her mind.

Here she was, Captain Sharon Raydor, head of the FID showing up flustered at a crime scene. She was an idiot, she surely looked ridiculous. She could already picture the rumors going around the office about Captain Raydor losing it at a crime scene. She couldn’t allow that. She needed to look unperturbed, so she took a deep breath and put her brave face on, even though she felt like she was dying inside.

Sharon glanced towards the street to what seemed to be the suspect’s house. She saw Julio stepping out of the house, a hand on his shoulder. Provenza was right after him, shaking his head, as he joined Julio and put a hand on his coworker’s other shoulder to stop the detective in his rant. Brenda walked to the two men and talked briefly with Julio, probably convincing him to get checked. Sharon’s assumption was right because it took a few more minutes before Brenda led the detective toward an ambulance. Sharon’s panic grew when she spotted the mortuary van, but she shook her head in an attempt to keep her emotions in check and went back staring at the house. That was when she saw him. Andy. He was walking out of the house, Tao supporting him under the arm. Andy didn’t seem to agree with the extra support and he seemed to be complaining, but Sharon couldn’t help but notice that Andy stood hunched and that his right upper arm seemed to be injured. Sharon stood on her tiptoes trying to see over the crowd and get a better look at Andy. A paramedic had joined the two men and now Andy was gesturing frantically with his uninjured arm. He was cursing, no doubt about it. He then lifted his gaze and looked toward the street. That was when his eyes met hers. Sharon knew Andy had seen her, the faint smile crossing his features only confirming it. She nodded to him before taking a few steps back and walking back to her car.

———————–

“Sharon?” Andy called to her as soon as he opened the front door of the condo. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, leaving the keys on the console in the foyer. “Sharon?”

Andy had tried to call her as soon as he was back to the PAB after he got checked at the hospital – Chief had insisted, threatening him with desk duty if he would have refused. Sharon didn’t answer any of his calls, so he decided to join her at the condo as they had agreed on the day before. Andy was glad he had convinced Provenza he was able to drive home with his own car – asking jokingly Provenza to tuck him up in bed had been a great way to discourage the older Lieutenant from driving Andy home.

Andy heard the sound of a sliding door and saw Sharon come in, closing the balcony door behind her. “Hey…” Andy greeted her with a small smile.

“Hey…” Sharon replied in a soft whisper. She didn’t near him. She stood motionless, studying Andy in silence. He had taken his leather jacket off and she immediately noticed the dried blood and the tear on the right sleeve of his grey shirt. She could spot the white bandage wrapped around his upper arm and she sighed. It’s just a graze, Sharon, she repeated to herself, hoping it would make the lump in her throat disappear.

“I’m okay, Sharon. Bullet just grazed my arm, I’m fine.” Andy reassured her as he took a few steps toward her. “It’s not a big deal.”

Sharon shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. Of course Andy would downplay the whole situation. She walked to join him and replied, irony in her voice, a smirk on her lips, “Oh you know, honey, same old same old. I went to work this morning, got shot in the evening…”

“Exactly.” Andy chuckled as he opened his arms for her.

Sharon threw Andy a skeptical look and studied his face as if she wanted to make sure he had told her the whole truth. She slid her arms delicately around him and whispered, “You’re an idiot, Andrew Flynn.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Andy exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around her, “It’s not my f-…” He hissed involuntarily and flinched as Sharon pressed her body against his.

“Andy?” Sharon asked worriedly and she slowly pulled away, her hands brushing his side. Her hand stopped on his belly as she felt something through the fabric of his shirt. Sharon arched an eyebrow and before Andy could say something, she lifted his shirt to reveal a white bandage. She gasped as she stared at him with worried eyes.

“Sharon… it’s nothing…” Andy started, but he stopped talking when Sharon looked up to glare at him. She then focused back on the bandage and gently brushed a hand over it. “Okay…” Andy sighed, aware that he had no other choice than to tell her the truth. “I’ve been shot, but I had my bulletproof vest on, so…” He immediately reassured her, but Sharon threw him another death stare over the rim of her glasses. “I have some cold patches for the bruising, that’s why I’m wrapped up like a burrito…” Andy tried to make it come off as a joke, but he knew he had failed the moment he met Sharon’s stern eyes. “Hey, come here…” He whispered to her softly, pulling her against him.

Sharon snuggled against him carefully and hugged him back. She sighed and pulled away after a few seconds, “Uhm, excuse me, Andy… just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back shortly.” She added gesturing toward the couch.

Andy stood speechless in the middle of the living room as he watched Sharon walk away and disappear in the hallway. Just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back shortly… It almost felt like a doctor appointment. Just take a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly. Andy shook his head and arched an eyebrow. It was odd. Sharon was odd. He sat down on the couch slowly, paying attention to his sore abdomen, as he waited for Sharon to come back.

Andy kept staring toward the hallway. Sharon was nowhere to be seen. More than twenty minutes had gone by and Andy couldn’t wait anymore. He had a feeling that what had happened to him had upset her more than she had let him show. He had to check on her. Andy stood from the couch and walked toward the bedroom. He was surprised to see that she wasn’t in there. He then heard the water running in the bathroom and for a split second he thought that he was maybe overreacting… until he heard a muffled sob. Sharon had left the bathroom door ajar and Andy hesitantly pushed it open. His eyes scanned the room and he saw her, sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the bathroom vanity. She was crying and hugging her knees to her chest. Andy now understood why she had run away from him and hidden in the bathroom. She didn’t want to break down in front of him. The thought that he had caused her so much pain made his heart twitch.

“Hey babe…” Andy whispered softly as he approached her slowly.

“Go away.” Sharon’s voice was incredibly firm despite the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother to look at him.

Andy shook his head at her stubbornness and walked to the sink to turn the faucet off. Andy carefully crouched down, wincing in pain and trying to hide it as much as possible. He then sat next to her on the floor and glanced at Sharon. She was resting her forehead on her knees, ignoring him even if she was aware he was sitting right next to her.

“Sharon…” Andy whispered, his hand reaching for her hair and stroking it.

Sharon tried to move away from his touch and said, “I told you to go away.” Her voice wasn’t as firm as her previous request. Andy could tell she had used a great deal of strength to push him away a few minutes before, but right now she didn’t sound as convincing.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sharon…” Andy replied gently. “Hey look at me, babe…” He asked her as his hand ran through her hair. Her head still resting on her knees, Sharon turned her face toward Andy after a little while. Andy offered her an encouraging smile as he told her, “Better, much better…” Her puffy and teary eyes met his when Andy asked, “You wanna talk to me?”

Fresh tears escaped her eyelids, soaking the fabric of her yoga pants. She slowly shook her head and sniffed softly. Andy gazed down at her, his fingers tracing her face and wiping away the fallen tears. Sharon closed her eyes as he kept stroking her cheek. His gentle and loving gesture was all it took for her last bits of strength to dissolve. A sob escaped her lips and she hid her face against her knees again.

Sharon felt Andy slid his uninjured arm around her, pulling her closer, as she tried to move away from his embrace. “I hate this…” Sharon mumbled as she lifted her head to stare blankly in front of her. “This… this is not me!” She exclaimed, wiping angrily the tears on her face. “What did you do to me, Andy?” She quietly whispered, her voice shaking. She hated sounding so vulnerable, she hated herself for not being strong enough and for revealing her weakness to him. Frustration emerged in a wail that escaped her lips before she could stop it. The more she tried to control her sobs, the harder she cried. Heavy sobs racked her body, barely allowing a breath to be drawn.

Andy tightened his embrace around her trembling body and before Sharon could even realize, he drew her closer to him and pulled her up into his lap. Andy closed his eyes briefly and bit his inner cheek as he tried to ignore the throbbing pain that shot through his body. He drew a few shaky breaths before he focused on the woman in his arms. He moved her hair away from her face when he heard her mumble some unintelligible words. “What is it, Sharon?” Andy asked softly.

“Andy, you’re injured…” Sharon told him with a shaky voice, looking up to meet his gaze, “I…”

Andy shook his head and smiled tenderly at her, “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” He pulled her head back to his chest gently, stroking her hair. He smiled again when he felt Sharon snuggle against him and he tightened his hold on her, “I’ve got you, love.” Andy whispered to her, his lips brushing her hair, before he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

Andy rocked her in his arms, his hand moving soothingly up and down her back. “There is nothing wrong with letting yourself feel your emotions, Sharon…” He told her quietly, “I will never think less of you because you shed a few tears… or ask for emotional support after a tough day.” He went on, as he kept rubbing her back. A smile appeared on his face and he reassured her, “You will always be Darth Raydor scaring the hell out of the Major Crimes team every time you walk into our Murder Room. I’ll always know that I’d better keep my mouth shut when you give me the death stare. Nothing can change that, babe.” His hand kept running up and down her spine in a comforting way. Andy’s lips brushed the top of her head as he whispered against her hair, “Your emotions won’t make you less badass to me, holding them back is not helpful though…” Andy kissed Sharon’s hair and stayed silent for a little while before he went on, “I know what happened today was scary… I know you were scared too, I saw you at the crime scene, you came to make sure I was okay…” He smiled briefly before he admitted, “Hell, I was scared too.” Andy moved a few strands away from her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, “I can’t promise you this won’t happen again. You know that sometimes with our jobs we put our lives on the line… and things happen.” Andy felt Sharon tense in his arms and he resumed rubbing her back soothingly, “But I am fine, I am here and I can promise you that I will fight everyday to come back home to you.”

Sharon nodded against him and her tears progressively subdued. She stroked Andy’s chest gently and kissed it before she reached up to cup his cheek with a hand. Sharon leaned up to place a kiss on his jaw and then buried her face in the crook of his neck. She sighed against him, her breath tickling the skin of his neck. “I love you, Andy, so so much…” Sharon whispered.

Andy looked down at Sharon and smiled at her lovingly. He stroked her cheek gently and dried the path left by her tears. “I love you too, Sharon…” Andy replied with a bright smile. He held her chin up with his thumb before he leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

They stayed in silence in each other’s arms for a while until Sharon whispered against him, “This can’t be comfortable for you, Andy… you’re injured…”

Andy shook his head, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me…” He shushed her, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her familiar scent, “How are you?” He asked her, concern in his voice.

“Better…” Sharon replied, a faint smile gracing her features. She bit her lower lip, pondering whether to ask him or not, “Andy?” She called to him timidly.

“Yes, love?” Andy answered, looking down at her with a reassuring smile.

“Uhm…” Sharon fumbled. After decades of taking care of herself and her kids on her own, voicing her needs and desires didn’t come easy to her. Today was no exception. Sharon felt Andy rub her back again. She took a deep breath and tried again, “Can… can we stay like this for a few minutes more?” Sharon asked him hesitantly.

“Anything for you, Sharon…” Andy replied as he tightened his embrace and dropped a kiss to her forehead, “Anything.”

#The Closer #Major Crimes #Sharon Raydor #Andy Flynn #Sharon x Andy #Shandy #AU #You're not hurting me you're not heavy I've got you love #hurt and comfort #fanfiction #prompt #The Closer AU fic #ilariawrites

50 notes · View notes

scribbleb-red · 5 years ago

Text

Camisado (Your Emo Andreil AU)

[This started as a Morning AU on Twitter, warning: we're going very 00s]

Andrew and Neil meet in a chat room age 13.

Andrew's handle is @/phantom!attheopera

Neil's is @/isayshotgun

Andrew initially hangs around because he finds it hilarious how Neil roasts people he likes and trolls people he doesn't.

They also both have things in common - starting with but limited to their love of PATD and pretty much all emo music they can get their barely-teenage hands on. Andrew likes it a little heavier than Neil - but they both rave about Brendan Urie, Gerard Way and the Maddens.

They strike up a penpal style relationship - moving first from the chatroom to private messages, then the msn and email.

They confide in each other. Neil moves around a lot because 'my dad's a bad man, he's after me and my mom'.

Andrew tells him about Cass and Drake.

isayshotgun: he shdnt do dat 2 u

phantom!attheopera: i know

isayshotgun: id get u out

phantom!attheopera: how

isayshotgun: im gd w/ knives

phantom!attheopera: maybe you can teach me.

phantom!attheopera: and I'll teach you to spell, honestly.

isayshotgun: *eyeroll*

Neil doesn't come to get Andrew because Aaron happens first.

And then Andrew's in juvie and playing exy and the only way he can stay in touch with Neil is email. He shouldn't even be allowed email, but he's willing to get on his knees to have computer access, access to Neil.

Something about email makes their friendship even deeper.

Actually, Andrew's fairly certain that he's half way in love and that if they were different people they'd have already talked about this. Still, it's because of email that he notices something is wrong with Neil.

His emails, which were long and rambling, have suddenly become short - no less full of feeling and affection, but syntactically different.

He tries to ask about it.

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Subject: what's wrong with you?

Neil is cagey at first but Andrew gets it out of him in the end.

From: isayshotgun

To: phantom!attheopera

Re:Re:Re:Re:Subject: what's wrong with you?

Being shot really sucks. That's all. N

All Andrew wants to do then is cross the country, gather Neil close and keep him safe. They're fifteen now and he'll be leaving juvie next month.

"Can you keep safe until then?" Andrew types.

"U cant save me. We talked about this." Neil's reply is not what he wants to read.

Andrew's released to Tilda. He finds out his brother is hooked on painkillers and his birth mother is an abuser.

phantom!attheopera: she hits him. I need to stop her.

isayshotgun: ... ...

phantom!attheopera: what?

isayshotgun: is that weird? for moms 2 hit u?

phantom!attheopera: your mom hits you too?

isayshotgun: 2 teach me not 2 be stupid.

isayshotgun: keepin me alive

phantom!attheopera: that's not how it works, no one hits you for your own good. that's...

phantom!attheopera: my therapist calls it emotional abuse and controlling behaviours.

Neil ends up sharing a lot more than he was probably initially intending - about the one time a girl kissed him and he couldn't walk properly for a week; about the way his mom pinched him and made him recite their rules back; about how he wasn't allowed to be sick, ever.

phantom!attheopera: one of these days I'll find you and we'll run away together. We'll go anywhere you want. Settle somewhere safe.

isayshotgun: do u think ud like me irl?

phantom!attheopera: well I can't see your spelling if you're talking

isayshotgun: rofl lmao

Andrew tells Neil about Aaron.

phantom!attheopera: he's a total prick

isayshotgun: hv u tried talkin 2 him about smthing easy? like exy?

phantom!attheopera: just because you like stickball

isayshotgun: no i mean maybe u need a bridge 2 talk. common grnd.

phantom!attheopera: ...maybe

Neil is the one who gives him the idea about crashing the car with Tilda in it too. He sends Andrew all the instructions on a floppy disk that he posts to Andrew's therapist. On the front of the disk, Neil has scrawled their usernames. Andrew smiles.

Their relationship is a strange one - they are always there on the other end of the computer to each other, but they've never swapped photos and never heard each other's voices.

When Andrew gets a phone, he asks Neil if he has one and Neil says no, only his mom has a burner.

Still Andrew gives Neil his number and on his birthday, November 4th, he gets a call from a Seattle phonebox.

"Hey," Neil says. Andrew can hear him shivering, the chatter in his teeth.

"Happy Birthday, Drew."

They talk and talk. It's the best birthday Andrew's ever had.

Right up until the gunfire.

Neil vanishes.

There's no emails. No MSN messages. No highly irritating nudges. He's not in any of their usual chatrooms.

Andrew doesn't get another phone call.

Weeks go by. First one then another then another.

Andrew leaves messages. He sends emails. He really really hopes Neil isn't dead.

Aaron and Andrew go to live with Nicky.

They're approached by The Ravens. Andrew turns down the infamous Riko Moriyama and his absurdly pretty Number 2, Kevin Day.

David Wymack shows up. The deal extends to Aaron and Nicky if he wants it. Andrew says yes.

Sometimes Andrew thinks about Neil and tries to make an effort with Aaron, but Aaron is angry and a recovering addict and nothing Andrew says or does is ever enough. He still tries.

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Subject: 9 ways I'm trying to befriend my twin

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Re: Subject: make that 11 ways

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Re:Re:Re: Subject: none of these are working

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Subject: you'd hate him too

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Subject: ok fine, I don't hate him

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Subject: Happy New Year

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Re: Subject: And Happy Birthday I guess

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Subject: I miss you

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Re: Subject: I still miss you

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun

Subject: Panic! are play in Columbia next month !!!

From: isayshotgun

To: phantom!attheopera

Re: Subject: Panic! are play in Columbia next month !!!

got u a ticket c u there @ 7pm

Andrew blinks. He stares at his inbox. The 1 new message. Neil's username. Neil is alive. Neil is coming to Columbia. Neil is coming to a Panic! At The Disco gig. He bashes out a hasty message.

phantom!attheopera: Are you serious?

isayshotgun: yeh

The month vanishes under Andrew's feet. He's nervous. He's excited. Nicky is exuberant.

"My cousin has a date!"

"Not a date, Nicky."

Nicky just slides a knowing look his way and when Andrew takes the car keys, tells him to drive safe and stay out of fights. Andrew scoffs.

They haven't been talking much, Neil and Andrew.

But Neil promised that Andrew wouldn't be able to miss him.

Neil was telling the truth. He's standing there, a too-skinny teenager with badly cut hair flopping into his eyes, with a giant sign saying "phantom!attheopera".

Approaching, Andrew sees that Neil is gaunt, there's shadows under his eyes, which are blue as the sky on a clear, cold day.

"You ready to scream your crooked heart out?" Andrew asks.

Neil looks up with a slow smile. It wobbles as if his face is out of practice.

"Hey."

"Hi."

They will - in fact - scream their crooked hearts out that night. They will hold each other upright and throw themselves through the mosh pit, feeling the press of elation and anger and frustration and hope. Neil will trip a stranger who gets too close for Andrew's comfort. Andrew will deliberately spill a drink over a girl who won't stop eyeballing Neil with hearts in her eyes.

"My hero," Neil laughs. His laugh is rusty too.

Andrew wants to hear it again and again. He wants to hear it every fucking day for the rest of his stupid emo life.

When the music fades and the crowds disperse, Andrew and Neil are left in the carpark, sitting on the bonnet of Andrew's car.

He asks Neil where he's going tonight.

Neil shrugs.

He asks Neil if his mom is nearby but he already knows the answer. Mary Hatford is dead.

They don't leave for hours. Neil explains everything that night - who his dad is, what he's running from. Andrew doesn't care.

When they're both cold, they sit in the car and turn the heating up. Andrew offers his hand to Neil and Neil curls their fingers together.

Neil is tired. Neil is so so so tired.

"Come home with me." Andrew says. "Stay."

Neil slumps against the seats, his head tilted so Andrew can see every sharp angle of his face. There's no fight, no bargaining.

Just a sweet, fluttering feeling neither of them know to call hope.

The end.

#morning AU #Andreil #emo #emokids #00s aesthetic #andrew minyard #neil josten #aftg #panic!#at the disco

100 notes · View notes

ravenvsfox · 6 years ago

Text

rockband chapter 5 babey 😈🤘🏻

Neil tilts a record out of the stacks, and the sun catches the sleek surface and shows him his reflection.

“You’re not even in the right section,” Kevin calls. He’s two rows away flipping through rock-punk CDs, looking exhilarated when they fall towards him like dominoes.

The whole store is no bigger than a spacious bedroom, and the shop front is all boxy windows, letting in honeycombs of late-afternoon light. Kevin’s never looked so relaxed, dragging his fingers along the spines of albums, inspecting the equipment behind the till, smiling and chatting with the owner.

“There is no right section,” he mutters, sliding the album back into its slot. “It’s all music.”

“Right,” Kevin says. Neil glances up and finds him unexpectedly close, mouth pursed reluctantly with amusement. “Except we’re not here for all music.”

“What are we actually here for again?” Neil asks, distracted. He can see Andrew waiting outside with his back to them and his arms crossed, serious and stock-still as a bodyguard.

“Inspiration.”

Neil watches Kevin’s face. The crease that’s usually between his brows is only suggestion now, a slouchy, un-tensed line. He’s tolerable like this, Neil thinks, almost impressive, choosing music to feed his creativity.

“You love it here,” Neil accuses. “This is a vacation for you.”

Kevin scoffs. “Like you’re not the same.”

Neil shrugs. There’s an upright piano on the wall and he wants to squeeze the keys in his hands like fingers in a crowd. The sound of voices and tires on asphalt from outside spreads like frosting over the crumbling drumbeat from the stereo. The rusting brown of the wallpaper behind the counter looks almost orange with the full force of the sun on it.

He could live and die in a place like this, head down, hands full of bright new music and dark classics, never in silence, never alone.

"Come look at this,” Kevin says. Neil follows him to the far corner of the shop where there are picked-over alternative CDs and peeling tape labels. He plucks an album from the stack and wiggles it at Neil. “Old school Ausreißer.”

Neil squints at the cover art. “You look like a bad metal band.” The original four are caught in the middle of a set, dressed in all black under a red spotlight, mid-howl. The word Ausreißer is so stylized that it’s almost illegible.

Kevin rolls his eyes and puts the CD back in its slot. “Things change. When we found you you looked like you were on day ten of a bender.”

“I can go back to that, if it’s the look you’re going for. Wouldn’t want to stand out in a band full of junkies and burnouts.”

“Funny,” Kevin says flatly. “Just bring that smart mouth to song writing.” He gathers his little stack of music and a clear box of sturdy picks, and drops them on the front counter to be checked out.

Neil hesitates, swaddled in the darkest, warmest corner of the store, reluctant to splash back out into the cold. He can already see how it will play out: Andrew’s silence and Kevin’s focus, the way they take up so much of the sidewalk that Neil has to fall in behind them or walk in the gutter, the drive home like a never-ending commute to nowhere at all.

He’s listless without a stage, and Kevin won’t let him forget that he’s not a natural born songwriter. He’s waiting for inspiration like that second raindrop after you swear you felt the first one.

His eyes wander and catch on a lurid red flier stapled to the bulletin board above the stacks, and he does a double-take. Foxes. Township Auditorium. Friday, January 25th.

“Dan’s group is playing this Friday?” Neil wonders aloud, and Kevin looks at him over his shoulder, handing bills off to the cashier.

“Oh yeah, the Township gig. I think they’re hanging out in town for a week or so, too.”

“We should go.” He thinks of the way the girls had laughed about their public personas and plastic recognition. He wants to hear them for real, as magnetic and driven as they were at Abby’s, assuring him that they do pop like he’s never heard in his life.

“Waste of time,” Kevin says, accepting his bag with one of his frozen, ken doll smiles and making towards the exit.

“We’re not touring right now,” Neil argues, catching up. “We can take two hours off from the new album.”

“We can,” Kevin says, “but we shouldn’t.”

“And yet you find the time to drink six hours a day.”

“The creative process looks different on everyone,” he grits. They push out into the sunlight and Andrew looks vaguely in their direction, his face chapped from the wind.

“Great. Mine looks like going to local concerts and supporting our label, and you know full fucking well that Wymack would agree with me.” They start walking, Neil leading them in a frantic triangle down main street. Andrew doesn’t ask or care about what they’re arguing over, which is why Neil tells him, “I want to go to the Foxes concert on Friday.”

“Then go,” he says. He’d been chain-smoking while Neil and Kevin were in the shop, and he looks irritable and sick. His pallor has been almost bruised lately, like something’s wringing him out and leaving marks behind.

Neil flips Kevin off and walks further ahead of the group, buoyed by the opportunity to be part of an audience again. He loves the silky anonymity and sway of the crowd almost as much as being doused in lights and held up by a mic stand.

Kevin’s still talking about accountability and wasted talent, but he’s lost his audience.

Neil reaches the van first, parallel parked at a wicked angle. He waits for the muted click of the unlock button, then climbs into the passenger seat. There’s a parking ticket folded over the windshield wipers and Andrew sets them going so that it flutters down onto the street.

“It’s not going to be the same in the crowd as it is onstage,” Kevin says calmly from the backseat.

Neil turns his head. “I know.”

“The fans know who you are now, and I’m not sure you’re ready for what that actually looks like.”

“I’m pretty good at blending in,” Neil says, eyes narrowed.

“You’re not,” Andrew says, pulling jerkily out of the spot without looking and nearly catching a hyundai by the nose. “You’re loud.” Car horns blare on all sides like a chorus of agreement.

“You draw attention,” Kevin agrees grimly. “I’d rather you stick it out in the studio where you can’t get into trouble. And Wymack would agree with me about that.”

Neil watches pedestrians swarm and cars criss-cross beyond the window. “So what, I join a band and now I’m on full-time house arrest?”

“Shouldn’t you be used to keeping your head down, runaway?” Andrew taunts. His hands flash as he makes a left turn, ink spelling yes over no over yes. Neil gives him a look.

“You’re not talking about staying on the move, you’re talking about hiding. And in my experience, your problems catch up with you when you sit and wait for them to go away.”

“I’m not talking about your fucked up past,” Kevin says irritably. “If you want to stumble into the nearest concert, you can, but if you misrepresent us or pull some stupid shit to distract from the set, Wymack will kick your ass. If Dan doesn’t get there first.”

“Don’t worry Kevin,” Andrew says, glancing away from the road to fix Neil with a cool, knowing look. “He has winning impulse control. Right Neil?”

Neil clenches his teeth and ignores him. “I realize that you don’t trust me, but I need you to understand that I don’t care. I’m not going to stay in the cage until you figure out if you’re ready to unlock it or not. I’m not going to live that way anymore.”

“You’re on a team now, and you have to care,” Kevin argues.

Neil scoffs. “Tell that to Andrew.”

Kevin looks pained. “He’s—“

“What? An exception? I’d love to know why I’m held to a higher standard than the person with concealed weapons and an unreliable drug dependency,” Neil says, fuming. Andrew pumps the brakes so that Neil topples forward into the dashboard, then he’s thrown back again when they accelerate. He grips the headrest and seethes, “you’re fucking psychotic.”

“You—“ Kevin starts.

“Kevin,” Andrew says, toneless, barely there, and Kevin stops short. Neil recognizes that easy power, that tongue-biting obedience.

They collapse into strained silence, Andrew looking infuriatingly tranquil, the air around Kevin vibrating with how badly he wants to speak.

Neil thinks about the corner of the music store and that old album, an Ausreißer from back when Neil was still lost in between hotel rooms, when his mother was alive, and she could change the course of his life with just the tips of her fingers. He thinks, things can be so easy and so ugly at the same time.

They get out at Palmetto, Neil wrenching doors closed behind him, trying to feel like he has a raft to himself for once, like he’s not always sharing, feeling for someone else’s shifting weight.

Nicky’s spread between two chairs when he gets to the studio, and Neil’s relieved to see the easy smile on his face. It fractures when he gets a good look at him.

“Oh no. Was it unbearable? I thought music shopping would mellow Kevin out, at least.”

“It was fine,” Neil says, rolling a chair towards the table where they left all of their notes and stray music. He sweeps everything off the table, feeling a vindictive shock when it all settles on the floor; every dangling idea, stagnating chord progression, and experimental piece of garbage.

“Yeah, you seem fine,” Nicky says sarcastically.

“Better,” Neil says, rummaging in the heaps of wasted work until his hand closes around a discarded pen. “I’m inspired.”

_____

The dye burns cold on his scalp. He paints the wispy place above his ears, and tucks it up into the rest of the gummy mess. There’s a dark streak on the porcelain of the sink, and he rubs it with one gloved finger.

Someone knocks at the door, and Neil reaches behind himself to open it. There’s a beat, and a flutter of movement, and then his eyes meet Andrew’s in the mirror.

“Brown,” Andrew remarks.

“You wanted me to tone it down,” Neil says, focusing on smothering his auburn roots and pointedly ignoring the rest of his reflection.

“Don’t put Kevin’s words in my mouth.”

Neil meets his eyes again. “What do you want?”

Andrew doesn’t reply for a long moment, and then he starts to peel down his armbands. It’s like watching a snake shed its skin, and Neil’s so startled to see it happening that he turns around to watch him directly.

He’s expecting the thatch of scars, but it still knocks the wind out of him to see them, tender pinks and whites that nudge all the way up to the ink on his wrists and hands.

Andrew plucks the brush out of Neil’s limp hand and scoops up a mound of colour that looks black in the weak light.

“Head down.”

Neil complies, chin towards his chest, and feels Andrew smooth the dye from just below his ear up into the coil of loose, wet hair. He can feel the damp heat from Andrew’s bare wrists, smothered for most of the day.

“Who put you in a cage?” Andrew asks, and the hair on Neil’s neck stands up.

“What—“

“You said: I’m not going to stay in the cage until you figure out if you’re ready to unlock it. I’m not going to live that way anymore.” He says it robotically, like an automated recording.

“I know what I said,” Neil snaps, starting to look up, but Andrew grips his neck and steers his head down again.

“Then you should be able to explain what you meant. Without lying to me.”

Andrew’s initiating one of their trades, he realizes, baring a secret and nodding at Neil do to the same. He closes his eyes, flinching when the brush makes sudden contact with his neck.

“My mother.” It’s an easier answer than the reality--a web of injustice too thick to see through. A childhood spent escaping from one cell block to another.

The brush stops midway through a glide towards his hairline. “She hurt you?” Andrew asks, low.

“It’s not that simple.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You know better than anyone that protecting someone can get bloody. Our circumstances weren’t--they were never good enough for us to have a decent relationship. But she kept us moving.”

A bare hand curls in his hair, and Neil’s eyes open. His breath catches when he recognizes the hateful look on Andrew’s face.

“Did she hit you, yes or no?”

Neil swallows thickly, trying to focus on the feeling of Andrew’s hand against his scalp. “Yes.” The hand tightens painfully. “But she’s dead now. My parents are dead.” He doesn’t know what drives him to say such a hasty, partial truth, like it has any bearing on the way it felt to be forced to the ground and pinned until his arm broke. Death gets rid of the person, not the memory.

Andrew’s hand drops altogether. He moves into the space at Neil’s side, hip to hip, and rinses his hand under the tap. “If she was beating you, she wasn’t protecting you.”

“You don’t understand what people are capable of when they’re struggling to survive.”

Andrew steps slowly and lethally into Neil’s space. “Yes, I do,” he says, nearly whispering. Neil’s eyes hitch down to his destroyed wrists.

He nods, and Andrew backs off. He feels a strange, remote disappointment watching him move away, like climbing out of a roller coaster and watching it take off without him.

“We’re not keeping you locked up,” Andrew says. “We do not own you.”

Neil shakes his head a little, running a hand over his hair under the guise of checking for dry patches, trying to reclaim the tingling, grounding feeling of Andrew’s fingers.

“Contractually, you do.”

“You’re with us,” Andrew says, “until the second someone abuses your contract, then you leave. We both know you could outrun me if you really wanted to.”

“Maybe,” Neil says, on the blunt edge of a smile. “But you might be able to outlast me.”

Andrew looks at him in the mirror for a long while. “You’re disgustingly stubborn,” he says. “And dense. I wouldn’t count on my ability to put up with you for that long.”

Neil shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I won’t leave. We have a deal.”

“I just told you—“

“Not the contract. You and I have a deal. And I’m not ready to give it up,” Neil says, and he means it. The tenuous promise of protection, the give and take, the lure of the stage. He’s only grown more and more obsessed with the whole thing.

Andrew wavers. He reaches for his discarded armbands, and takes his time rolling them back up. Neil feels a painful rush of recognition at seeing his scars swallowed up, and he reaches out impulsively to hold him by the wrist. Andrew’s fingers are still ruddy with dye.

“This isn’t a cage. You’re nothing like—it’s nothing like my mother.”

At Abby’s, he’d told Andrew he reminded him of home, the most nightmarish insult he could lay his hands upon. And for a jarring second, Andrew’s commanding relationship with the band had looked like the dynamic between himself and his mother, ceaseless authority meeting senseless devotion. He’s been stupid enough to mistake Andrew’s promises for Mary Hatford’s threats.

At length, Andrew tugs, and Neil lets go of him.

Long after he’s gone, and Neil’s hair is washed out and limp, wet brown, he can still feel the raised scars underneath the fabric of the armband, and beneath that, a curiously rabbiting pulse.

______

And “monster” does not begin

to cover bolts and stitches in my skin

sinew held with safety pins

but you made me

the creature not the man, right?

but this lab coat’s fitting pretty tight

and if you’re living out of spite

are you a person or a feeling,

and would it hurt to look at you directly?

gunshots speak louder than words

but the warning shots you heard

don’t work for people who’d prefer

to die than to live on their knees--

“It needs workshopping,” Kevin says, tossing the notebook onto the coffee table.

“I think it’s great, Neil,” Nicky says. “The Frankenstein stuff is cool, our fans eat that shit up.”

Neil shrugs, and he gathers his notes back up from the table, out of reach from prying eyes. They’re assembled in a loose square in the living room, with Andrew at the window, a cigarette burning delicately between two fingers.

“You call yourselves the monsters so— I don’t know.”

“It works,” Kevin sniffs. “They’ll get it. They’ll like it.” It’s a more generous response than he was expecting, and he knows it’s the most approval Kevin can bring himself to show. “How soon can you match it musically?” he asks Andrew.

“I already have a melody,” Neil interrupts. He stands, walks over to the keyboard Kevin insists they always keep on hand, and presses the ‘on’ button. “It’s not very complex,” he says, walking his right hand over a couple of keys until the power catches up and the notes start to voice.

He plays the song through once, low arpeggiated chords and a sustained, high tenor line. He sings when he can’t help it, crooning until it gets too high to sing softly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Andrew’s fingers drumming against the windowsill.

“You’re right,” Aaron says when it’s finished. “It’s not very complex.”

“Downer,” Nicky accuses. “It’s just keys right now, we can amp it up.”

“Is it worth it?” Aaron complains.

“Yes,” Andrew says, leaning over to put his cigarette out in the ashtray balanced on the arm of the couch. They all look at him expectantly, and he gets up, grabs the music directly out of Neil’s hands, and disappears into his room with it.

“Well that’s a good sign,” Nicky says, bemused. “Guess we’re going to that concert, Neil.” When Kevin opens his mouth to protest, Nicky says, “Wymack signed off on it. Plus we’re making headway on the b-side tracks, and Andrew’s actually working.”

“I’m not going,” Kevin says, crossing his arms.

“Me neither,” Aaron says. “Allison will have our balls if we pull focus from her.”

“So we won’t,” Nicky says. He ropes Neil in by the shoulder and tousles his newly dark hair. “No one will even know we’re there.”

______

Later, Nicky sends Neil to ask for the car keys, and he finds himself standing in the dusk outside Andrew’s room, delaying the inevitable confrontation.

Andrew comes out before he can knock, wearing boots and a black baseball cap, keys clenched in his fist. They nearly collide, and Neil staggers back a step.

“You’re coming with us?” he asks dumbly.

“You and Nicky can’t be trusted alone,” he says. It’s an insult, but it hits Neil like warm water from a shower-head, like relief.

“Did Kevin ask you to do this?” Neil asks, but Andrew ignores him, brushing past into the living room, then the entryway. Nicky pushes off from the back of the couch where he’s been waiting, looking back and forth between the two of them nervously.

“We’re all going?”

“Apparently,” Neil replies.

“Cool. Weird. Shotgun.”

“Neil’s sitting in the front,” Andrew says, cranking the screen door open.

“Family really means, like, nothing to you when Neil’s around—“ Nicky’s saying as he follows Andrew out into the night.

Neil breathes out, lacing his shoes and listening to Nicky chatter circles around Andrew, who is steady and silent, already fixed in the driver’s seat.

He’s been picturing the Foxes concert as that same ambiguous darkness from before he joined the band, skulking in the back of bars and hoping to be caught. Now he imagines Andrew and Nicky propping him up like brackets, a drink he actually paid for, the hair-raising knowledge of what it feels like on the other side of the performance.

Wind shivers through the front door and underneath Neil’s collar. He jams his hands into his jacket pockets—the leather already stiff and unyielding from the cold—squares his shoulders, and opens the door.

______

They’re smuggled in through a door backstage, already late. Nicky clings to Neil’s sleeve so tightly that it pulls down over his hand.

Renee comes to greet them, as unnervingly pleasant as the last time he’d seen her. Neil keeps expecting her even-keeled demeanour to clash against Andrew’s like icebergs meeting, but they only seem to thaw around one another.

Andrew greets her, and she knocks her knuckles into his hand and smiles.

“I’m glad you guys came. Don’t tell her I told you, but Allison’s raring to show off.”

“I bet she is, competitive bitch,” Nicky says good-naturedly. “All you foxes are such a handful.”

Renee seems to be considering whether or not he’s joking when Dan appears at her elbow. “Walk in the park compared to your lot,” she says, smiling sharply. Her eyes flit to Neil and she softens. “Still doing okay, Neil?”

“She means, have we ruined your life,” Andrew says in German.

“Quick, tell her how saintly we are,” Nicky says.

“And lie?” Neil asks in exaggerated German, as if scandalized. “I’m fine,” he says to Dan. “Excited to see a Foxes set.”

It’s a bigger venue than he’s used to, and the energy is intimidating, people whisking past them and calling instructions to one another.

Her smile quirks, and she lets her arm drape around Renee’s neck. “We’ll try our best to impress, then. As usual.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nicky says. “You’re a big deal, we get it. Don’t you have warm-ups to do?”

Dan snorts. “Time off is making you a little mean, Hemmick. You better watch him, monster.”

Andrew stares blankly back at her, and Nicky says, “you try living with Kevin 24 hours a day and tell me how personable you’re feeling.”

Dan winces. “Point.” Someone ducks close and whispers in her ear, and her face flickers through several shades of confusion and annoyance. “Okay, shit. One of Allison’s pegs came loose and her tuning is all over the place. Sound check’s in five, and Matt’s on the wrong side of drunk, but um. The show must go on, I guess.”

Renee ducks out from under Dan’s arm, excusing herself, and Dan squeezes Neil’s shoulder in parting. “See you out there. Try not to get into trouble.”

“Yeah right,” Nicky says, and she aims a kick at his shin. He falls back a step, laughing, as she jogs after Renee. “Hey, rock and roll, Dan,” he calls. “Or whatever it is you guys do.”

He’s still beaming when he loops his arm with Neil’s and steers them towards the door. Neil looks anxiously back at Andrew, but he’s a step behind them as usual.

They wait for a lull in passersby, and then they’re out in the thick of the crowd, pushing conspicuously from the front of the stage to the side of the room. Eyes linger on them and narrow, and his throat starts to constrict until he feels Andrew’s hand thread into the shirt under his jacket, keeping him tethered.

Nicky can’t resist dancing a little to the opener, as obvious as they already are, and he bobs through the aisles, shooting furtive looks back at Neil to see if he’s enjoying himself. The band on stage is too high energy for their low energy song, jumping and twisting to a half-time rhythm.

Andrew’s hand tightens at the small of his back, and Neil glances back to see him eyeing the thrashing drummer with distaste.

“I thought you didn’t care about technique,” Neil tells him over the music, and Andrew tears his eyes away. He’s frowning, and Neil relishes that off-guard little furrow of emotion.

“I don’t,” Andrew says, “I also don’t listen to bad music if I can help it.”

“Guess we must be pretty good, then,” Neil says.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No,” Neil agrees. “You didn’t.” He knows that it’s true, though. Somewhere past the layers and layers of bandages that Andrew wears, there must be raw flesh. It’s just that Neil can’t tell if he’s healing or rotting underneath it all.

They come to a stop close to the stairs up into the stands, and Nicky gestures at an empty patch halfway up. Most of the crowd is standing already, chaotic, but they climb up into the mess and find their seats, Nicky on the inside and Andrew in the aisle, with Neil sandwiched in-between.

“Our fans are louder,” Nicky leans over to say smugly.

“That’s because they’re trying to keep up with you,” Neil says. “Decibel for decibel.”

“Fuck you,” Nicky laughs. His eyes are bright, and he grips the seat in front of him to get the leverage to see through the masses.

They ride the energy of the crowd to the end of the song, and then the group is hollering goodbyes and filing offstage, and people start to sit down or escape to concession. Nicky relaxes back into his seat and pinches Neil for his opinion.

“I don’t think we missed much,” Neil says.

Nicky shrugs. “Yeah, but we were like that once. You got to skip Ausreißer’s adolescence, Neil, you lucky shit. It was not pretty.”

“Kevin showed me your first album,” he tells him.

“Oh, Jesus,” Nicky groans. “Those were dark times. I used to wear leather biker gloves on stage, like a tool.” He rustles in his inner jacket pocket and produces his flask. “Drink to forget?”

Andrew reaches across to pluck it from his hand before anyone can drink. He unscrews the cap and points it at Nicky. “I know you’re already fucked, Nicky.”

He scoffs, making a messy grab for it that Andrew dodges. “Hardly.”

Andrew swallows a generous shots worth, then passes the flask to Neil. This is familiar by now, sharing space and booze and drugs as a means to an end. They get drunk like they’re grappling down a cliff-face together, connected by rope.

Neil hesitates. There are strangers on all sides and the sick smell of sweat and beer in the air, but there’s something about his back to the wall and a concert ahead that he trusts. This is how he spent the years after his mother’s death, anonymous and drunk, losing control in measured doses like taking medication.

He drinks, the mouthpiece still wet from Andrew’s mouth, and screws his face up at the tartness of the flavour—a salty, lemony vodka. Nicky tries to steal the flask halfway through his sip, so Neil pushes him away by the face.

He and Andrew share the rest of the liquor, and he puts the back of his hand to his face to feel it warming up. It’s a relief, to feel his edges shaved off. It’s like he’s less defined this way, less likely to be recognized.

Stagehands are fiddling with amps onstage and taping wires down, and the buzz of the crowd is suddenly deafening.

“What’s the deal with Renee?” he hears himself asking.

“What d’you mean?” Nicky asks.

“You like her,” Neil guesses, jabbing Andrew with the base of the flask to get his attention. “But she’s nothing like you.”

“She’s one of us,” Andrew says.

“But she’s not, though,” Neil says, half-frustrated and half gawking at his own lack of composure. He wants his curiosity back inside where it can fester and wonder in circles and die. “I thought Wymack only took in strays. Charity cases.”

“You have met her twice,” Andrew says coldly. “How well do you think you can judge a person’s character in that time?”

“Pretty well,” Neil says grimly. He thinks of the cross around her neck and the prim lace of her collar, attention-grabbing hair offset by dark, serious eyes. He saw Matt’s track marks and Allison’s rage before Dan had even whispered their stories to him, but he can’t read anything on sweet, prim Renee.

“Lucky she doesn’t care what anyone thinks,” Nicky interjects. “She’s waiting to be judged by God, I think. Everyone else’s opinions are just… noise.”

He can’t imagine anyone who was really like them believing in God like that, but he bites his tongue.

“Little orphan Neil Josten gets in some trouble and he thinks he knows what rock bottom looks like,” Andrew muses, and Neil’s stomach sinks. “You haven’t even hit it yet.” He looks unfocused, and it occurs to Neil that he might have taken something before they left.

“You’re right,” Neil says. “But you promised that you’d be there when I do,” he reminds him.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Nicky asks. “Neil?”

“Neil?” someone else says, and Neil looks over to see a woman and a couple of scruffy looking dudes frozen halfway up the stairs. His eyes drop to the shortest of the two, who’s wearing elbow-length armbands identical to Andrew’s. “Andrew! Nicky! Oh my god,” he says.

Nicky puts on a winning smile. “Hey!”

“I can’t believe you’re here—like, for real, there were rumours, but—oh my god— “

“He’s completely obsessed with you,” the woman gushes.

“Katie,” he hisses, and his friend shakes him good-naturedly by the shoulders.

“He’s afraid to say it, but—“

“Fuck off—“

“—every single album—“

“That’s very cute,” Nicky interrupts, cocking a flirtatious grin at the guy who’s holding his own cheeks, dismayed.

“We couldn’t believe you were just, like, changing your sound completely,” the taller guy says. “But Neil, man, I see why they’d take a chance for a voice like yours. It’s sick, dude.”

“Thanks,” Neil says stiffly.

“He’s not used to being recognized, yet,” Nicky says apologetically. “You’re taking his fan virginity.”

They titter, and the woman says, “we’re honoured.” She nudges her friend and widens her eyes meaningfully.

“We can’t really hang out though, sorry guys. Low profile tonight,” Nicky says. His smile is less believable by the second.

“Totally,” they chorus.

“I just quickly want to say, Andrew,” the first guy starts, breathless. “I know you get this all the time, but your lyrics saved my life. I couldn’t believe someone understood me like that, and—and you’re my--you inspire--I mean. I’m sorry, I’m so tongue-tied, I—“

“I didn’t write them for you,” Andrew says.

The fan’s face crumples. Nicky looks at Neil, panicked, and then he forces a loud, incongruous laugh.

“Wow, good one,” Nicky says. “He doesn’t mean it, obviously.”

“Don’t I?” Andrew says.

“We appreciate it,” Neil interrupts. “But we can’t talk anymore.“

“Right, sorry, I’m so—“

They urge one another up the stairs, apologizing and thanking them, the one guy looking on the verge of tears through the bars of his friends’ arms, until they disappear up to the next level of seats.

“You could’ve pretended to be human,” Nicky hisses as soon as they’re gone.

“They call us monsters,” Andrew says. “What do they expect?”

Nicky groans. “Please can we have fun, and not ruin anyone else’s night, especially our fans? People are gonna egg our car.”

Neil’s stomach squirms, and he crosses his arms over it. There could be well-meaning, invasive people like that everywhere, and now he’s tipsy and angry and stuck.

The house lights go down a few minutes later, and the whole crowd sucks in a collective breath before they plunge headfirst into cheering.

Neil’s arms loosen. Nicky stands up at his side, hooting, and everyone follows suit, craning towards the stage, wanting to be the first thing the band sees.

Dan comes out first, waving with both hands, and Matt follows, winking at the crowd and sliding his guitar over his head. Allison and Renee emerge from either side of the stage, Allison towering in high heels and glowing under the lights. Renee’s hair is wild, and her face is different, tongue caught in her teeth, almost cocky.

They fit behind their instruments like joints cracking into place, and they play their first chord in perfect unison, all of them operating different parts of the same body.

The crowd roars their approval. Neil sits upright. He’s surprised to feel Andrew standing up beside him, stepping into the aisle to watch. He follows without thinking.

The jangling, bopping drum line doesn’t wait for the strings to catch up, and Renee doesn’t need to watch to see that they’re following her. Her wrists are supple, and she’s lost to the music like she’s been playing for hours and not seconds.

The room goes up in flames when Dan starts singing, like the fans are all hungry, dry wood, and she’s a spark. She works the microphone free from its stand and starts running with it.

“Fucking excellent, right,” Nicky shouts, and Neil nods, mesmerized. The crowd moves together even separated by sections and rows of seats.

It’s nothing like an Ausreißer concert, where boiling blood turns into wine, and everyone turns their desperate faces up to the stage like they’re waiting to be healed. Foxes sing like they’re in love and they fought for it.

Neil can admit that they’re as musically proficient as the monsters, too, making up for lack of technical flair with a complete understanding of their sound.

Matt smiles dopily down at his guitar and then at Dan, like he can’t decide which deserves his attention more. When she floats towards him, he gets springy with it, teasing her with guitar licks, carving shapes into her oaky voice. Allison’s hand goes protectively to her tuning pegs whenever she has a break in the music, but her bass is rich and in tune.

They do an old-fashioned crescendo like it’s a classical piece, and Dan is almost conducting, hitting the air when Renee smashes the cymbals, gesturing for more when Allison starts a slippery solo, so fast that she laughs and tosses her hair, exhilarated.

Neil makes a hurt noise that gets swallowed in the din, but Andrew looks at him anyway. Neil looks back, studying his wide black pupils and wondering why he only bothers to pay attention when he’s stoned.

He remembers the wide eyes of the kid with the armbands, the agony of his disappointment, and he forces himself to look back out at the band.

One song finishes and another climbs on its back. People move and mill out of their seats towards the stage. He feels like he’s seeing double, like he’s watching a long pilgrimage that’s somehow been condensed or played back.

The first break in the music, Dan laughs her way out of the song, takes a swig of wine, and says “how was that?” into the mic, pointing out towards the place where the monsters are standing. Nicky puts two fingers to his mouth and whistles.

Her stage presence is unparalleled. She’s funny and a little hard on her audience, begging them to sing louder, drive her offstage if they can. Neil can see why she’s in charge, unofficially. She paces circles around the stage like she’s boosting morale. She barely needs the microphone to be heard.

They topple back into their set without warning, a trust fall of a count-in where Renee bangs out a few warning shots and everyone’s hands fly to their instruments.

Somewhere in the thicket of fans, Neil hears someone call, “Andrew!” He sees an incongruous flash, turned towards the audience and not the stage.

“Nicky, Nicky Hemmick! Nicky, over here—“

“Andrew,” Neil starts.

“We love you, Neil,” someone screams.

“Don’t—“

Neil’s jostled down a stair, and Andrew yanks him back up.

“Ignore them,” Andrew says viciously.

“Yeah,” Nicky agrees, but he’s clearly rattled. “What are they gonna do?”

Neil struggles to get his bearings. A few of them are still shouting, recording them with their phones or fighting their way through the crowd towards them. Nicky motions for them to stop, but a few people get close enough to beg for autographs or snap blurry photos of themselves with the band members in the background. He wonders if it was the fans from before, upset enough to tip off the whole crowd to their seat numbers.

“Bet you didn’t think we were this famous, huh?” Nicky jokes nervously.

Andrew has no problem with shoving people away, and Nicky frantically apologizes as many times as he can before he just starts shaking his head. Neil is forced painfully into Nicky’s side, and he can hear people in their row restlessly asking what’s going on.

Most of the audience is oblivious, still focused on Foxes’ raucous energy, but the three of them are surrounded for another ten minutes before people start to get frustrated enough to give up. The rest of them are shoulder-tapped by security, and the throng dwindles to nothing.

“You okay?” Nicky asks. Neil nods, but when he blinks he can still see pinholes of light from camera flashes. He knows that the photos will end up online where anyone can see him as he is right now, and they can guess at his habits or zero in on his location if they want to.

He’s been reckless for a long time, but standing pooled in stage lights feels entirely, chokingly different from wading down into the crowd and feeling the attention slither around him like seaweed.

Andrew crushes a hand to the back of his neck, and Neil inhales all at once.

“Kinda ironic that crowds freak you out so much when you sing for one every night,” Nicky says. He’s standing half in front of Neil, eclipsing the concert still unfolding in the background.

“It’s not the crowd.” Neil shakes his head to clear it. “It’s—they all know who I am.”

‘They think they do,” Nicky corrects firmly, fingers curling into Neil’s arms. The harpy tattoo peers out from under his sheer sleeve, a monster in a veil.

“They want to,” Andrew says, gaze tossed out to the back of the venue. His face is so blank and washed out under the lights that it’s like it’s been chemically stripped of colour. “You’ve caught their attention.”

Neil pulls free from Nicky’s arms and sits heavily in his seat. “I don’t want it.”

“You might not have a choice,” Nicky says, sitting next to him, smothering the distance Neil keeps trying and failing to cultivate.

“You always have a choice,” Andrew says, and when Neil looks up at him, he’s holding out his right hand with its painted yes. Neil accepts it gingerly, and Andrew drags him to his feet.

They watch the rest of the concert from backstage.

Andrew sits propped up on an amp, and Nicky alternates between trying to get the band’s attention from the wings, and mimicking Matt’s solos with vigorous air guitar. Neil suspects he’s trying to get him to laugh.

Neil has enough distance now to feel stupid about locking up during such a minor incident and proving Kevin right. The crowd has already forgotten them, or never knew they were there. The show goes on.

They’re coming up on their encore performance when Neil feels a buzzing at his hip.

He fishes an unfamiliar cellphone out of his pocket and stares uncomprehendingly at the message lingering on screen, sent from a number he doesn’t recognize.

A neat little ’60’ and nothing else.

#neil sure is mistaken about many things #the foxhole court #andreil #tfc fanfic #aftg #rockband au #mine #abuse tw #alcohol tw #self harm tw #this chapter did not want to exit my mind and I'm sorry about that #peep the love letter to dan wilds halfway through this klhgjfhdfgsf

583 notes · View notes

nayutai · 6 years ago

Text

Wins and Losses

Summary: Aleecia’s mother tries to play matchmaker with someone her daughter would rather not see again

Word Count: 10K+

Genre: Mostly fluff and smut....maybe a little angst if you squint

Warnings: Foul language, unprotected sex, and I think that’s it. This is pretty tame compared to my other stuff lol

The smell of hot sex and the sound of heavy breathing fills the air as my latest hookup rolls off of me. I take a few minutes to regain some semblance of composure before swinging my legs over the side of the bed to start gathering my clothes. I can already feel that familiar soreness settling in at the apex of thighs as my legs tremble slightly. Definitely a ten out of ten on the hookup scale.

“Well thanks for the dick...” I draw a blank on his name as I turn to face the naked man lounging in the mess of sheets that we’d just been rolling around in.

“Hoseok,” he replies with a sly grin on his face as he watches me get dressed. The way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth almost makes me want to jump back in bed with him but it’s already two a.m. and I have things to do in the morning.

“Are you gonna give me your number? We should do this again.” He says as he shifts around on the mattress. I mentally pat myself on the back for managing to snag such a fine ass man to end the night with. He runs a hand through the mess I made of his jet black locks and now it’s my turn to bite my lip. For a second, I contemplate breaking my rule of not sleeping with the same hookup twice but I stop myself.

“These situations are called one night stands for a reason, bub. Besides I have things to do in the morning well in a few hours.” I inform him as I slip my feet into my heels. “You be blessed though.” I blow a kiss in his direction, which he playfully rolls his eyes at, before grabbing my phone and keys and leaving the lavish apartment without a backwards glance.

“Aleecia, darling, you look absolutely dreadful.’ I roll my eyes at my mother’s prim and proper face that’s delicately twisted into a scowl.

“Good morning to you too, Mother.” I quickly kiss her cheek before turning too my dad. “Daddy.” I peck his cheeks several times much to his amusement. The side of my face burns as I turn to place my clutch on the chair next to me after taking my seat across from my parents.

“Don’t listen to your mother, sweet pea.” My father reaches across the table to place his hand on mine. “You look just as pretty as the day we brought you home.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” I return his bright smile then turn my attention back to my mother. “Are we expecting guests?” I ask, gesturing to the three empty chairs at our table. Our weekly brunches very rarely consist of anyone but us so I’m intrigued. The fact that my father rolls his eyes and looks at my mother lets me know that she’s got something up her blush pink suit sleeve.

“I invited one of my bridge friends Cindy and her husband. Their son just took a job at one of those investment firms downtown and I figured you could show him around.” My sly mother explains as she smooths out the napkin she’s carefully placed in her lap.

Now I see why my dad was rolling his eyes. This smells like my mother attempting to marry me off to the son of one of her prissy friends.

“Mom how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to get married right now?” Of course, she just waves me off as if I’m still a child and not a twenty five year old woman capable of making my own life choices.

“Maybe if you had someone to come home to you’d stay out of those filthy bars you like to frequent. Don’t think I haven’t heard about you, missy.” I roll my eyes skyward as I prepare to get lectured on my “heathen antics” for the millionth time this month. I’m just having fun and I don’t plan on letting her desire for grandchildren she can show off ruin that any time soon.

Fortunately for me, my mother’s friend and her husband choose that exact moment to make an entrance. God bless them. I stand from my seat to greet them properly.

“Oh my, Aleecia! You’re even prettier than your mother said you were.” The sweet older lady kisses me own both cheeks as she squeezes both of my hands in hers. Her husband, Andrew, shakes my hand before moving on to my parents, clapping my dad on the back heartily.

“Where’s your son, Cindy?” My mother questions as we all take our seats around the table.

“He’s running a little late.” She informs as she spreads her napkin in her lap. “They needed his signature on some important paperwork. There he is!”

I turn to look over my shoulder to see the man I’m sure Cindy has bragged about endlessly to my mother. My stomach threatens to fall out of my ass when my eyes take in the man walking through the restaurant with a good looking black man hot on his heels. Of all times for me to run into one of my hookups it has to be when I’m about to meet a potential suitor. To my surprise, the black man greets a woman seated at a table near the door while the man whose bed I’d rolled out of less than twelve hours ago continues strutting towards us.

Now I barely made it through biology in college but…Cindy and Andrew are most definitely African-American like my own parents. I distinctly remember Hoseok mentioning last night when we were talking at the bar that he was from South Korea. As I watch him hug Cindy’s petite frame close lovingly, calling her mom, I come to the conclusion that he must have left out the part about him being adopted. My parents show absolutely no sign of the shock that’s coursing through me so apparently, I was the only one left out of the loop here.

Hoseok introduces himself to my parents before seemingly making a single white rose appear out of thin air. The mischievous glint in his eyes as he holds the rose out to me makes my heart skip a beat. The smile on his face is rated PG but the way he looks at me as he lifts my left hand to his lips suggests a hunger that could never be satisfied by food. My breath hitches as my mind reminds me of how those very lips had made a meal of me last night.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Aleecia.” I don’t miss his enunciation of the word pleasure in the slightest and it’s obvious that he intended to give it a double meaning only I would pick up on. Cocky fucker.

“Likewise, Hoseok.” He pulls my chair out for me before taking the only empty seat left at the table which of course is the one next to me. This is going to be a long brunch.

My assumption on brunch dragging on could not have been more correct. It seemed like I would never be able to escape from that table. Both sets of parents kept asking leading questions in a poorly veiled attempt to show that Hoseok and I have a lot in common which we do. However, my rules are my rules. I’ve taken a ride on his rollercoaster once and, as great as it was, I don’t plan on lining back up for it.

“Well this has been great but I need to get going.” I gather my things, kissing my parents on the cheek hastily as I try to extricate myself from this weird situation.

“Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.” The strength of my ancestors is the only thing that keeps me from openly scowling at his offer. Our respective mothers on the other hand look down right delighted at us getting some one-on-one time together. If only they knew just how close the two of us had gotten back at his apartment.

Hoseok has the audacity to put his hand on the small of my back as he holds the door of the restaurant open for me to pass through. He’s practically vibrating with barely restrained laughter as we walk towards my car. It soon becomes too much for him to hold back and the dam of laughter breaks. He cackles like a hyena, clapping his hands together animatedly. I wanna smack him but he looks so cute that it’s hard to follow through on my devious thoughts of violence.

“So this is the thing you had to do today?” He questions as he tries to get his breathing under control. He’s still chuckling lowly though and my left hand itches with the urge to smack him.

“Shut up. It’s not funny.” I stomp my foot like a child that didn’t get the toy they wanted. He simply leans back against my car that we’ve finally reached.

“I don’t know, babe.” The sly grin that had initially attracted me to him graces his features as he looks me up and down, licking his lips. “It’s pretty damn hilarious from where I stand. If I’d known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have let you leave my bed so soon.”

The implications of his words sends a shudder through me. My mind races with all the possibilities the statement could entail and each thought makes the damp spot that’s starting to form in my panties to grow exponentially. I cross my arms across my chest as if that’ll protect me but I only succeed in drawing his attention to my chest.

“You’re impossible.” I mutter almost to myself to which he shrugs his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me you were adopted?”

“I don’t make a habit of telling hookups my life story.” He cocks one perfectly groomed eyebrows before he continues. “Although if you’d like to turn that one night into two I’m totally game. You looked so pretty under me last night.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He falls into a fit of giggles once more as I shove him away from my car.

“See you soon, Aleecia.” He winks at me before turning to walk back towards the restaurant.

Not likely bub.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite financial analyst.” The sound of that all too familiar voice has my fingers freezing above my keyboard. My eyes remain glued to the email I’m typing to my friend in HR as I count backwards from ten hoping that I’m just hearing things. It’s been three days since that god forsaken Sunday brunch and entirely too soon to be having another run in with the devil’s protégée.

“Ignoring people is very rude, Aleecia.” The arrogance in his voice as he flops down in one of the leather chairs across from my desk makes my hand itch to smack him again.

I finally look over my screen at him, not surprised to see him wearing a shit eating grin. I am surprised by how well he’s wearing the obviously tailor made white button up and navy slacks. A man in a suit has always been my weakness and I can already feel my defenses crumbling at the sight of Hoseok in his. I find myself drawing my bottom lip between my teeth as I take him in. Before I say something I know I’ll regret, I reach forward and press the speed dial number for my secretary Cedric.

“Yes, Ms. Hartford?” He answers mere seconds later.

“Ced, why is there an unscheduled visitor in my office?” Hoseok snorts, rolling his eyes when I glare at him.

“I’m sorry Ms. Hartford. It won’t happen again.” He responds without excuses.

“Thank you.” I turn my attention to the intruder, giving him the full force of my “Elsa” glare as my colleagues refer to the icy stare that’s brought many a foe to their knees. Hoseok on the other hand seems wholly unaffected.

“Don’t be so hard on him. I’m known to be a smooth talker.” He informs me smugly. “It’s why I’m so good at what I do.”

“Is that so?”

“It worked on you, didn’t it? Or was it my boyish good looks that sealed the deal for you?” He’s got me there. Hoseok has game that I can’t deny as much as I’d like to.

“Why are you here?” The smile on his face lets me know that he’s well aware of me avoiding answering his question but fortunately he gives me a pass.

“Your mother kindly informed me that you’re free for lunch today and what a coincidence so am I.” I arch an eyebrow at him. My mother’s sudden cancellation of our lunch date today is making a lot more sense now.

“And what makes you think I’d want to have lunch with you, Hoseok.” I rest my chin in the palm of my hand as I observe him. He seems entirely too at ease with the situation our mothers have placed us in and it’s bothersome.

“I’m buying that’s why.” He responds matter of factly. I have to admit that the thought of free food sweetens the pot deliciously but, considering our circumstances, I know I have to decline. A ping comes through signaling that Rian, my HR friend, has sent me a follow-up email to the one I’d been interrupted trying to respond to.

Rian Draughan: Aleecia do you want to do lunch or not? I’m starving and you’ve had me waiting forever. Stop torturing me and my stomach.

Saved by the bell, well, email in this case. I’ll have to pay for my own food but it’ll be worth it if I can thwart my mother’s dastardly plans.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I say to Hoseok in the sweetest voice I can manage. “I made replacement lunch plans after my mother cancelled on me.” He searches my face shrewdly looking for any hint of a lie. It’s then I’m reminded that while Hoseok might be laid back and easy going he’s a force in his own right in the business world.

“Rain check?” He questions with the slightest hint of hope in his voice and I can’t wait to crush it.

“Don’t hold your breath on that one, buddy.” I reply as I lock my computer, reaching into my bottom drawer to grab my bag. “I don’t intend to give our mothers the satisfaction of getting what they want so if you would be so kind as to go along with my master plan it would be much appreciated.”

Hoseok tilts his head to the side as we face off in my office. The weight of his stare makes me shift from foot to foot. It’s almost as if I can feel his gaze cascading across my skin as he looks me over and heat pools in my lower stomach.

“I have another plan in mind and it involves a less avoidance and a lot more,” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his solid frame. “contact.”

My heart is beating frantically in my chest and for a second I’m worried that he might actually be able to hear it. I know that I should probably back out of his embrace but it’s as if my feet are glued to the floor.

The breath in my lungs rushes out when he leans in closer to me. My head lolls to the side almost on his own accord as he places gentle kisses along the column of my throat, ending at my ear. He pulls the lobe between his teeth and tugs softly. I never knew that was a turn on for me but the sudden gush of wetness between my thighs informs me that it is.

“I always get what I want, Aleecia.” He whispers in my ear. His voice is rough with desire and a shudder runs down my spine. He finally steps away from me with a satisfied smirk on his face. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hoseok exits my office with one final wink and it feels like I can breathe again. I’ve never been with a man that was so in control of my body the way he is especially after just one night together. A night that was nearly a week ago. I decide then and there that this man is a demon who must be avoided.

When I step out into the small foyer outside my office, I’m not surprised to see Rian waiting for me. What is surprising is the smug look on her face. She looks like the cat that got the cream and my gut clenches in fear of the interrogation I’m surely in for during lunch.

“So, how good was the dick?” Rian asks as she daintily cuts into her stuffed chicken breast. I nearly choke on my water although I should’ve seen it coming. Rian and I have been friends since sophomore year of undergrad and we’ve always been super open about our sex lives with each other.

“It was life-changing.” I answer with a frustrated groan. “I almost considered breaking my rule for another night but my mother made sure I stuck to my guns.”

Rian arches a perfectly sculpted brow in question so I launch into my story about The Brunch. She listens intently, cackling when I get to Hoseok’s “grand entrance”. For a second, I’m sure she’s about to choke on a piece of broccoli as she tries to control herself.

“So, what are you gonna do, sis?” She asks around her chicken, serious for the first time since we sat down.

“I’m going to ignore him.” I answer before taking a sip of my water. “I let my mother meddle in my love life before and all it got me was chlamydia and five years of wasted time.”

Rian nods in concession to my statement. My ex-fiancée Derek had been my mother’s first foray at matchmaking and for a while I thought she had the golden touch. He was three years older than me, the son of one of the lawyers my mom played tennis with and already a senior in college when we first met. We became joined at the hip almost instantly. If you saw one of us the other wasn’t far away.

I was worried that we wouldn’t last after he’d graduated and taken a job at a law firm in the neighboring city but Derek had shown me that he was willing to do whatever was necessary to make our relationship work. Looking back, I should’ve seen the signs. After a routine check-up, I was able to see through the smokescreen of dazzling smiles and sweet nothings that had been my life. What hurt even more is that he hadn’t even been sorry. If anything, he was relieved that all of his secrets were finally out in the open so that he wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Derek took five of the best years of my life and ever since then my view on love has been jaded. I gave a man my heart and thought I was getting his in return but it was all a bunch of lies wrapped up in a pretty bow. Never again will I let a man play me like that. Love doesn’t live at my address anymore.

“It’s been almost two years though. Don’t you think it’s time to get back out there in the dating world?” Rian asks curiously.

“Maybe one day,” I answer pensively. “but that day is not today.”

A deep sigh leaves my throat as I drop yet another bouquet of flowers into the garbage can next to my desk. It’s been a week since Hoseok’s surprise visit to my office and the flowers have been coming every day since. I almost feel bad throwing them away because I’m sure they cost him a pretty penny but there’s no way they can stay here.

My eyes start crossing up at 11 o’clock on the dot as usual which means it’s time to make my daily trip to the break room for a cup of caffeinated gold. Otherwise known as a giant cup mocha cappuccino with copious amounts of sugar and hazelnut creamer. I ask Cedric if he wants anything from the break room while I’m gone, nodding confirmation at his request for a donut.

On the way back to my office I notice my supervisor ahead of me walking next to another man with an artfully disheveled head of hair that looks much too familiar. My heart clenches when I watch them stride past all of the other doors on the hallway which means they can only be going one place, my office.

“Please, God no” I whisper to myself as I contemplate running away from the building entirely.

Cedric gives me a weak, knowing smile as he accepts his donut when I step into the foyer. Boisterous, male laughter erupts from my open office door, making me cringe. Ced gives me a thumbs-up for encouragement as I take a deep breath and steel myself to face the two men currently cackling in my office.

“Ah, there you are, Ms. Hartford.” My supervisor Mr. Branson stands to shake my hand after I shut my office door behind me. “This is Jung Hoseok. He’s on loan to us for the next few weeks for that audit project with Axis Banking that I was telling you about last month.”

A dreadful groan claws at my windpipe but I manage to choke it down. I’d been incredibly excited that my name had been picked to head this massive project with our sister bank but now I’d gladly accept death. Satan really doesn’t want me to prosper. My office is huge, one of the perks of it being the old office of our CEO before several floors were added to the building, so I’d foolishly offered to temporarily make room for the Axis rep so that we could work on the project together. The thought of being trapped in this office with Hoseok for hours upon hours makes my blood run hot for various reasons.

“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other a little bit before you get started tomorrow. The movers will bring in the necessary furniture and equipment so you’ll be ready to go in the morning.” Mr. Branson claps us both on the shoulder good-naturedly before dismissing himself.

“I take it roses aren’t your thing, huh.” My eyes go wide as I realize that he’s seen the bouquet peeking over the edge of my trash can. I open my mouth to respond but he stops me. “Don’t worry I expected a much worse outcome for those flowers if I’m honest. This just means you’re warming up to me.” I scowl at his megawatt smile and wish I’d dropped those damn flowers in the bin heading for the incinerator.

I take a long drag from my coffee and flop down in my chair. He walks around my desk to prop himself against it next to me, crossing his arms over his chest as he observes me casually. It takes me two tries to type my password in under the weight of his gaze. I don’t know how I’m going to survive working so closely with him over these next few weeks when I can barely handle him looking at me without flooding my panties and making a fool of myself.

“Did you know I was working on this project?” I ask, breaking the thick silence between us.

“Not until your boss brought me to your office.” He answers without hesitation and the look on his face makes me inclined to believe his words. Hoseok didn’t’ seem like the type to outright lie to me.

My hands creep up the sides of my neck to rub at the muscles there that suddenly feel tense. A gasp sounds through the air when Hoseok slaps my hands away and replaces them with his own. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud at the rush of pleasure that flows through me at the loosening of my stiff muscles. This man has magical hands although on some level I guess I already knew that about him.

I don’t realize just how into the massage I’ve gotten until the soft sound of his laughter makes me open my eyes, even though I don’t remember closing them, giving me a lovely view of his amused face. Embarrassment floods my system almost immediately as I roll my shoulders and roll my chair closer to my desk.

“See you in the morning then I guess.” I clear my throat and focus all of my attention on a stack of paperwork on my desk. He hums noncommittally, letting the tip of one of his fingers drag down my arm.

“See you soon, princess.” He lifts my hand to his lips when he reaches it. The feeling of his plush lips on my skin makes me long to feel those same lips all over me again. I curse internally when my door clicks softly behind him before practically diving for my phone.

“Rian, I have a problem.” I whisper the second she picks up her phone.

The darkest pair of sunglasses I own cover my eyes as I approach the front door of the building, waving at the security guards on my way to the bank of elevators. My stomach churns dangerously as I chug more of the coffee from the giant cup I’m nursing. Rian and I had a “game planning” session which basically means we drank excessive amounts of wine while she laughed at my current situation until we passed out on my couch. I woke up still slightly drunk this morning and contemplated skipping work but that wouldn’t look good on my part since Hoseok and I are to start this stupid project today.

My stomach lurches once more as I think about having to deal with him today and for the millionth time this morning I bristle with jealousy at the fact that Rian is comfortably lounging in my bed sleeping off of the rest of her drunkenness. Lucky HR bitch.

Cedric the Saint has a bacon and egg sandwich and a bottle of ibuprofen waiting for me as I’d desperately requested. My mouth waters at the smell of the meaty goodness as I graciously take the bag and pills from him.

Hoseok has beat me to the office unsurprisingly, lifting his eyebrow at my strange appearance as I flop down in my office chair. I immediately begin tearing into my sandwich, moaning unabashedly. I hear Hoseok choke on air off to my left but I can’t be bothered to care right now.

After devouring my sandwich and popping a few pills, I finally feel ready to try and start my workday. I reach into my bag to grab my laptop so that I can plug it into the docking station on my desk only to come up empty. My head drops to my desk with a thud as I realize that I’ve left my laptop at home which means I have no computer unless I go back and get it.

“Rough morning?” Hoseok asks and he sounds much closer than he should. I simply nod, not bothering to lift my head from its current position.

“Come on,” he says as he slowly spins my chair to face him. “What’s wrong?” he grasps my chin gently, tilting my drooping head up to look at him. It’s unfair how pretty he looks so early in the morning.

“I forgot my laptop.” I mumble out, looking everywhere but at him. I’m almost surprised when he releases my face from his grasp. The sight of him pulling a set of car keys from his pocket as he makes his way towards my office door definitely catches me off guard.

“Well, do you want your laptop or not?” He questions from the now open door to my office. I nearly trip over myself trying to get to him.

“You’re a fucking lifesaver.” Before I can stop myself, I peck his cheek once I’ve caught up to him at the doorway. This time it’s his turn to freeze as I move past him. A huff of laughter escapes me at the red tint that blooms across his cheeks as he fights a smile. Working with Hoseok might not be so bad after all.

Twenty minutes later Hoseok is parking is sleek Audi in my driveway which isn’t something I’d ever imagined would happen. I waste no time unbuckling myself and making a mad dash for my front door. The keys to my own car are next to my charging laptop on my nightstand where I’d dumped them the previous night. I grab both items, smacking a still sleeping Rian on the ass to annoy her before leaving my humble abode once more. Hoseok rolls his window down when I approach the driver’s side of his car, eyeing my keys almost suspiciously.

“My headache is gone now so I’ll just dri-”

“Nope we’re doing dinner after work and then I’m bringing you home so get in.” As if on their own accord, my feet carry me around to the other side of the car.

“What makes you think I want to get dinner with you?” He glances in my directions fleetingly before backing out onto the street.

“Because you need it after a morning like this.” He responds almost immediately. “There’s no ulterior motive going on. I just feel like doing something nice for you.”

“Driving me to my house to get my computer isn’t doing something nice?”

“Who says a man can’t do more than one nice thing a day?” I nod once in agreement with his point, spending the rest of the ride back to the office staring out at the city.

Working with Hoseok is surprisingly…efficient. I was fully anticipating wandering hands and suggestive innuendos, but when it comes to his work the man plays no games. The change in his demeanor is almost palpable as the smiley persona he normally exhibits fades in favor of the shrewd, calculating man that sits across from me.

“No one in their right minds would buy this shit. Who gave the okay on buying this dumpster fire?” He questions almost to himself as he goes over the financial reports from the company our parent corporation is trying to offload.

“I don’t know but the amount of short-term debt alone is making me sweat.” Hoseok quickly scrolls to the balance sheet, cursing to himself at the exorbitant figure listed.

“They should’ve audited this mess before they spent,” his jaw drops when he looks at the file in front of him at the purchase price “260 million dollars. They really spent that much money on this?” The incredulous expression on his face probably matches mine.

“We work for absolute idiots.” He whispers and I wholeheartedly nod in agreement.

After work, Hoseok makes good on his promise to take me out to dinner. We drive past numerous restaurants downtown and yet he stops at none of them. My brow furrows in confusion when Hoseok slots his car into a parking space at a rundown looking diner called Pete’s Place. It looks old enough to have served Benjamin Franklin but I cautiously follow behind Hoseok anyway. The promise of free food is much too good to pass out. I nearly salivate when he holds the door open for me allowing the smell of untold deliciousness to hit me in the face with the force of a bullet train. My attitude quickly changes as I hastily slide into the first empty booth I spot

An older woman in an apron with a dazzling smile comes over to our table, sitting an orange soda and small cup of lemon wedges in front of Hoseok before ruffling his already messy hair even more. I’m starting to get the feeling that he’s a bit of a regular here.

“Where ya been, kid?” She asks as she smacks away on a piece of gum. “Me and the girls have missed you around here.”

I see I was right about him being a regular.

“I haven’t been home in a while but I just took a job here in the city so I’m going to become a full-time pain in your ass again, Sher.” He gives her one of his trademark smiles, giggling as he dodges her hands when she swats at him.

“Stop being rude and introduce me to your girlfriend, Hopie.”

“I’m no-”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Sher.” Hoseok interrupts me, effectively communicating what I was going to say anyway. “Aleecia here just wants me for my body.” I kick my foot at him but he catches it as if he was expecting my foot to come flying out at him.

“Her loss.” Sher replies with a shrug of her shoulders before handing us a couple menus. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your orders.”

“You must want to die, Hopie.” I make sure to put sinister emphasis on the nickname Sher had called him but when a shudder visibly rolls down his spine I can tell it backfired.

“It sounds so hot when you say it.” I scoff, watching in disgust as he squeezes the lemon wedges into his soda before dropping them in.

“Where did that name even come from anyway?”

“Would you believe me if I said I had a short-lived rap career?” Never in a million years would I have imagined that the man sitting in front of me would have ever been a rapper. Maybe in some alternate universe but definitely not the one that I exist in.

“No way. Really?” I lean forward, resting my chin in my hands like a child. I’m thoroughly intrigued with the thought of the man across from me being a rapper.

“Yep, I called myself J-Hope.” He nods with a faint smile on his face as he busies himself with stirring his lemon wedges into his soda. A disgusting combination from my point of view but he seems satisfied with it.

“Can I listen to some of your music?” His head snaps up so fast I’m scared that he might injure himself.

“You-…I…you actually want to hear my music?” He seems genuinely dumbfounded that I’d ever be interested in hearing his raps.

“Yeah why not?” I answer as I finally pick up the menu in front of me to peruse my options.

For the first time since I met him, Hoseok is speechless. Sher saves him from floundering for a response when she returns to take our orders. He seems to have recovered by the time she walks away and returns with the sweet tea I’d ordered.

The conversation flows easily between us as we wait for our food although that was never an issue for us. As promised, the conversation never once veers in an inappropriate direction and the longer we sit here the more I wish that it would. I keep catching myself staring at the way his lips move as talks animatedly about a giant dog he’d seen at the park a few days ago and each time I have to damn near force myself to look away.

When our food arrives, it’s just as delicious as I expected it to be. My eyes roll skyward when I get a taste of the blueberry waffles I’d ordered. If not for the fact that there’s a decent amount of people in the diner I might’ve moaned out like I’d done in my office this morning.

“Good?” Hoseok asks on a laugh. He obviously already knows the answer but I humor him with a thumbs-up anyway as I rock happily in my seat.

When we get back into his car after dinner, Hoseok presses a few buttons on the radio until a calming beat diffuses out of the speakers. He looks so tense that I can only assume that this is one of his songs. My assumption is proven correct when I hear his voice through the speakers rapping in Korean.

“What’s this one called?” I ask curiously as I bob my head to the beat. Whatever it is it’s catchy as hell.

“It’s called Airplane.” He answers, scratching at the back of his head nervously. “It’s part of the mixtape I made my senior year of college. Figured I’d do it in Korean to reconnect with my roots ya know?”

I nod my head in understanding. Being able to connect with who you are culturally as someone adopted into a family so drastically different from the one you were born into was probably really big for him.

“Can you send me this? Like the whole mixtape?”

“Uhm yeah sure.”

I beat Hoseok to the office the next morning and seeing his face when he walks in on me singing along to another song from his mixtape was worth getting up twenty minutes early. His entire face turns red as he avoids any sort of eye contact with me on the way to his desk.

“Good morning, J-Hope.” I cackle at the way he cringes at his old moniker.

“I feed you and this is the thanks I get?” He asks ruefully as he crosses over to my side of the office. I quickly remind him that I did in fact thank him for dinner when he dropped me off at my house which he seems to have so conveniently forgotten. I also make it point to inform him that dinner doesn’t guarantee his safety from my taunting either. He hums out loud as he considers my answer for a moment.

“How about whoever gets to the office first gets immunity from teasing of any sort?” I suck in a dramatic breath as my brain comprehends his proposal. The smug grin on his face lets me know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“That’s not a fair deal, Hoseok.” I narrow my eyes at him. Not only does he live closer to the downtown area and therefore closer to work, but I don’t believe in getting to work early while Hoseok believes in getting to the office 15 minutes ahead of everyone else like a demon. I know this is a deal I should refuse but I always did love a good challenge.

I groan internally when I open my office door the next morning to see Hoseok already seated at his desk.

“Good morning, Lee Lee. Did you sleep well?” His smile is turned up to sun-level intensity and it pisses me off.

“What the hell is a Lee Lee? My name is Aleecia.” I emphasize my name as I drop my bag onto my desk a little more aggressively than necessary. A scowl clouds my face as he gleefully tells me about the internal monologue he had with himself in the elevator about ways for us to better our working relationship to make the project run smoothly. Apparently, nicknames was step one so now I have the weekend to come up with something “cute” to call him as well and I want to shoot myself.

Dinner at Pete’s becomes a routine of sorts for us after that week. Step two in Hobi’s plan after the completion of the nickname phase. I loathed it at first simply because he’d suggested it but I’ll be damned if it didn’t actually work.

Every Thursday, one of us picks the other up from home and after work we claim “our” booth for dinner. The “tradition” continues even after we finish the audit project so now every Thursday is a race to see who can beat the other to the diner. Loser pays.

For the past two months since the project ended I haven’t had to pay for dinner once and today I feel like I might be dangerously close to losing my streak. My eyes dart to the bottom right corner of my computer screen every few seconds as I not so patiently wait for an important file to download. The second it’s done, I snatch my laptop from its docking station and unceremoniously shove it into my bag before running towards the door.

Traffic is a mess because that’s just my luck and at this point I’m positive that Hoseok is going to beat me. However, his familiar vehicle is nowhere to be found in the parking lot when I arrive. I check my phone to see if he’s texted me and it’s then I realize that I haven’t actually talked to him since yesterday which is weird considering that we’ve developed somewhat of as friendship over the past few months as a result of his plan and text regularly.

“Where the hell are you, Hoseok.” I whisper to myself as I press the call button under his name.

When he answers, I immediately know why he’s missing in action. The poor man sounds like microwaved death.

“Now I know why I’m at Pete’s by myself.” I say playfully.

“Fuck it’s Thursday.” He interrupts himself with a short coughing fit, sniffling before he continues. “I’m sorry, Lee Lee. I should’ve called” I have to stop myself from smiling like an idiot at the nickname that he’d created. I’ll never admit it but it’s grown on me.

“Don’t worry about it, Hobi. Have you eaten? Taken any medicine? Drank enough water?”

“Uhhh...no.”

“Ugh you men folk are absolutely defenseless. I’ll be there in an hour.” I drop my phone into the passenger seat before peeling out of the parking lot.

Exactly an hour later I’m punching in the elevator code to Hoseok’s penthouse apartment, both arms weighed down with bags. When I stroll out of the elevator into his foyer, he’s cocooned on his couch in several blankets fast asleep. I kick off my heels and put away the groceries as quietly as I can before heating up the soup I’d brought him. I cross the room to stand over him, setting the soup and a box of cold pills on the coffee table behind me. My heart melts a little at how small he looks tucked underneath the blankets.

“Hobi, Hobi, Hobi.” I repeatedly call his name while poking his cheek until he finally wakes.

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh sit up and eat some soup so you can take something.” I say as I rest the back of my hand against his clammy forehead. He definitely has a fever.

He begrudgingly follows my directions, glaring at me for interrupting his sleep the entire time. I pick up the bowl of soup and hold it out to him. He sniffs at it for a second as if he’s contemplating not eating but he eventually grabs the dish from my hands. I return to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. One of the few things he actually had in there other than the groceries that I’d just bought.

Hoseok drains the soup bowl in record time but absolutely refuses to let a single cold capsule pass between his lips. At one point I try to physically pry his jaw open just for him to bite me like a rabid dog.

“Fucking hell Hoseok just take the damn medicine so I can go home.” I screech as I lunge for his face again, attempting to catch him off guard. He grunts out his disapproval against my hand as he struggles beneath me before rolling onto his stomach.

“I don’t need pills.” He yells into the fabric of his comforter. “My white blood cells are fierce warriors and don’t need any help!”

I take a deep breath and remove myself from his back and stomp loudly to the kitchen. I slam a few cabinet doors and grumble to give him false hope before tip-toeing behind the couch. The second he raises his head to look around, I pounce.

“Gotcha, fucker.” I announce triumphantly as I finally get the pills in his mouth, clapping my hand over his lips to make sure he doesn’t spit them out. “Swallow. Now. You owe me dinner so you need to get better.”

He glares at me but I watch his throat bob twice as he struggles to swallow the pills down dry.

“That was horrible.”

“Well you could’ve had water if you weren’t such a child about it.” I announce as I retreat to the kitchen to get a bottle of water for myself. Fighting with this errant man child has left me quite parched.

“I demand cuddles and a kiss for this disrespect.” Water nearly spews out of my mouth at his outlandish request.

“Are you high? Drunk? Both?” I question incredulously as I fight not to choke to death on my own shock.

“No, what I am is lonely.” He pouts. “Please Leecia just cuddle with me.” He grabs one of my hands and attempts to pull me down onto the couch with him. Sure, I consider Hoseok a friend but the only friend I’ve ever cuddled with is Rian and he’s nowhere near Rian’s platinum friendship level at all.

On top of that my mother’s face keeps floating around in my head. She’d probably love nothing more than for the two of us to cuddle on this couch into the wee morning hours. Giving into Hoseok means giving into my mother and that’s just not something I can do so I steel the resolve his begging had begun to weaken and pull my hand from his grasp.

“I think I need to go now. I can’t do this.” I mumble and make a bee line for the door. I’ve got one heel back on when Hoseok speaks up.

“Why did you go to brunch that day if you didn’t want to be in a relationship?” He asks in such a small voice that I almost don’t hear him. “Or is it you don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” He tacks on almost as an afterthought.

The look on his face reminds me of a wounded puppy and I find myself genuinely upset at the fact that I’m the cause of it. I take my shoe back off before padding back over to him, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

“What’s the correlation to that godforsaken brunch and us being in a relationship?”

He explains to me how he was under the impression that I knew exactly what the purpose of that ironic get together was and had been in full support of it. Apparently, my darling mother had pulled out all of the stops for this meeting and told him that I was looking to finally settle down and anxiously anticipated meeting Hoseok. He’d never seen a picture of me which is why he didn’t put two and two together that night in the bar plus the amount of alcohol in his system made it seem like a perfect coincidence that his last hoorah would be with a woman by the same name as me.

I wish I could say I’m surprised by all this but it’s not all that out of character for my mom to try something this sneaky to get what she wants. It’s probably why she made such a good defense lawyer back when she still practiced. She has no qualms about being underhanded to achieve her goals.

“Hoseok I-” I open and close my mouth a few times as I try to be as tactful as possible. “I had no idea that my mother was trying to set the two of us up. She’s tried playing matchmaker once before and it nearly ruined me so if I’d know what she was up to I probably wouldn’t have shown up at all.”

I take a deep breath and recount the horror story that is my ex-boyfriend. He listens intently. Not interrupting one which is honestly a bit surprising. When I conclude my tale, I actually feel lighter. This is the first time I’ve told anyone other than Rian exactly what happened between Derek and I all that time ago. My own parents don’t even know the full story. For a long while we just sit in silence as Hoseok figures out a way to respond.

“That dude is an asshole.” He finally speaks, wiping at the couple of tears that I hadn’t even realize had started to fall. “Doing that to anyone, you especially, should be considered a crime against God and nature.” A small laugh escapes me as I reach for the box of tissues he has on the coffee table.

“Yeah well it’s over and now I’m pulling a Maxine Waters and reclaiming my time the only way I know how.” I shrug my shoulders, laying my head on his shoulder when he pulls me into him for a much needed hug.

“Is that where your rules come from?” I nod yes and I feel rather than hear the sigh he lets out at my confirmation. “I think you should go now.” My head jerks up so fast it’s a wonder that I don’t give myself whiplash.

“You want me to leave? Why?”

“Because now that I’ve got you in my arms again I don’t think I’ll ever let go.” He starts. “I think I started falling for you from all the stories I heard about you, but actually meeting you and knowing you? I’m in deep, Lee Lee, but I know this isn’t what you want right now.”

My heart nearly seizes up at the raw emotion laid out on his face. His eyes are full of a longing and desire that has me choking back a sob. I throw my arms around his neck haphazardly, holding him as tight as I can. He sniffles a little against my neck. A damp feeling against my skin tells me it’s not from his cold.

I pull back to look him in the face once more, letting my eyes scan every inch of his face. One of my hands cups his jaw while the other rests against his collarbone. I’m not sure who leans in first but I soon find my lips pressed against Hoseok’s and for a split second I freeze up. I haven’t kissed this man since that one fateful night when he entered my life in more ways than one. Now, totally sober and in control of my impulses, I don’t recoil from him as I’d expected to. The restrictions I’d worked hard to maintain on our relationship to keep it platonic crumble and fall like the Berlin Wall. Our lips continue to move softly against each other when I more pressing thought comes rushing to the forefront of my consciousness.

I’m going to get so sick.

Thoughts of congestion and a runny nose are pushed to the back of my mind when Hoseok runs his tongue across the seam of my closed lips. A tortured groan sounds from deep in his chest as I finally grant him total access to my mouth. Hoseok detangles himself from the pile of blankets he’d buried himself under to pull me into his lap. His hands slide up my thighs to my ass as he pushes my dress up past my hips. He grabs and squeezes at the supple cheeks of my ass while he forces my hips to rock back and forth over the tent in his sweatpants.

“Please let me inside you.” He pleads against my skin as his mouth travels down the column of my neck. “Let me make you feel good.”

I nod my consent, shivering when his hands ghost up my back to grasp the zipper on my dress. My breath hitches in my throat as he eases it down. A muffled curse falls from his lips when I pull my arms from the sleeves to reveal the pale yellow lace of my bra.

“Please tell me your panties match.” He groans, eyes never leaving my heaving chest. I smirk mischievously before removing myself from his lap.

I turn my back to him once I’m standing between his outstretched legs. I tease him a little by raising and lowering before finally bending at the waist to lower the little black dress down my legs. An audible gasp followed by a low moan comes from behind me as Hoseok takes in the sight of my matching lace panties.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Aleecia.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around me from behind, peppering kisses across whatever skin his lips can reach. His fingers walking along my spine is the only warning I get before my bra suddenly loosens around my torso.

He releases me to shove his sweatpants down his legs along with his boxers. His hard length rests against his lower stomach as he strokes it lazily with one hand. He reaches for me with his freehand to pull me back into his lap.

I slide my hands under his white t-shirt and hope he takes the hint that I want it gone. Fortunately, Hoseok is intuitive, yanking the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere over my shoulder. I dip my head down and worship the tanned skin I can reach with my lips. The sound of his moans and groans in my ear makes a fresh wave of arousal wash over me.

Hoseok reaches between us to slide my drenched panties to the side to gain access to my soaked center. He circles my entrance before relocating to my engorged clit, working it in languidly as I grind against his hands.

“No more foreplay. I need you. Now.” I whisper into his ear as I pull his hand from between my legs.

Air whooshes out of his mouth as I slide my wet heat along his erection. He reaches down to line himself up with my entrance, head tossed back in pleasure as I begin my descent. I grasp my breasts in my hands, squeezing them together when my ass finally meets his thighs.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good.” He tilts his hips forward slightly which changes the angle in a way that has me clenching around him tightly. “That’s right, baby. Milk my cock.”

I start up a steady rhythm. Lifting and dropping my hips in his lap. Hoseok braces his feet on the floor to meet every downward stroke with an upward thrust of his own. It’s as if I’m constantly full of him. His very being seems to overwhelm me as he sucks a nipple into his eager mouth. He pinches and pulls at the other nipple with one hand before switching it up.

“More, Hobi.” I plead as I twist my fingers into his hair. “I need more.”

I’m not really sure what I’m begging for but Hoseok definitely seems to know. He releases my nipple with a pop to latch onto my ass. He spreads and squeezes the flesh there as he lifts me up before pulling me back down, forcing my hips to roll forward before doing it all over again. I can feel the knot in my lower stomach tightening to near bursting levels as I bite down on his shoulder.

“Soak my dick, baby. Wanna feel you cum around me.” His husky voice in my ear is all I need to push me over the edge. Every muscle in my body feels like it’s seizing up as lighting bolts of pleasure shoot down my nerve endings.

Hoseok lifts me off of him just in time to cover my abdomen in his release. His chest is heaving as he reattaches his lips to mine for a brief kiss. My eyes drift down to the mess on my stomach. I run a finger through the white strings before bringing it to my lips to sample his release. It’s bitter as expected but there’s a slight sweetness to it that takes the edge off that’s so uniquely him.

“That was the hottest shit ever.” He muses with a goofy smile on his face.

Hoseok and I make love late into the night. Taking our time exploring each other’s bodies and figuring out what makes the other tick the fastest. It’s no surprise when I wake the next morning sniffling just like the man to my left

After calling Cedric and letting him know that I won’t be coming into the office, I resign myself to spending all day in bed with Hoseok. We’re five episodes into the second season of Grey’s Anatomy, according to Hoseok it’s blasphemous that I haven’t seen it, when something one of the characters said triggers a thought in my congested head.

“If you were so set on being with me before we even met, why were you trolling for a hook up in that dirty ass bar?” I ask, feeling some type of way the more I think about it.

“I wasn’t trolling for a hookup as you so eloquently put it.” He answers after blowing his nose. “I wasn’t planning to sleep with anyone at all. A few of my friends from college came into town so we were reliving our glory days of getting trashed and singing bad karaoke.”

“But you still went home with me though.” He nods in concession to my point.

“I don’t know. I just remember seeing you walk in and just feeling drawn to you like a magnet. When you told me your name was Aleecia, my drunk ass probably thought it was a positive sign from God since I’m getting set up with someone who has the same name.”

I ponder his statement for a moment. “That’s dumb.”

“Men aren’t smart creatures. Alcohol just makes it worse.” We stare at each other for a second before dissolving into a fit of laughter. It gets cut short by us hacking our lungs out but the sentiment still stands.

“I know I probably seem like jackass for sleeping with someone the day I was supposed to meet you but the fact that it was you makes me feel like it truly was a sign.” He says soberly after we get ourselves back together.

“So why did you offer to take my number? You even asked to meet up again.” I point out with a raised brow.

“I was about to nut early so I was looking around trying to distract myself and I saw a notification on your phone reminding you about brunch at Le Chateau and I kinda just put two and two together.” He explains sheepishly.

I try to hide my laugh behind my hand but I can tell by the look on his face that I’m unsuccessful. “Don’t tell anyone else that story.”

“I won’t. I like my pride intact thank you very much.” He settles back down against the pillows to unwrap a throat lozenge, passing me one as well. I take in the small pout on his face as he fiddled with the wrapping and feel an ache in my chest.

“Fuck I’m really about to let my mom win.”

“You know, letting her win doesn’t mean that you lose.” He mumbles as he finally gets his throat lozenge unwrapped, popping it in is mouth.

“Yeah yeah yeah whatever, Plato. Are you my boyfriend or not?” I ask bluntly. Chucking a little when he nearly chokes to death on the lozenge.

“Yes! Shit, you can’t just say stuff like that without a warning. I’m sensitive.” I smile as I tuck my throat lozenge against my cheek. He pulls me over into his side of the bed so that my head is laying on his chest. His lips press against my forehead gently before grabbing the remote to rewind the show that we’d stopped paying attention to.

“You know it’s pill time right?” I ask with a grin on my face as his chest rumbles with a groan beneath me.

“This relationship already sucks.”

#btssmutclub #btsguild #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts smut and fluff #jhope smut #jhope x reader

191 notes · View notes

sunchosens · 7 years ago

Text

keep me here

pairing: andreil word count: 2,963 read on ao3

This is real.

Andrew wasn’t sure at first but the smell of black coffee in the morning and the cluttered path of shoes through his room and the tangled blankets cloaking his body convince him otherwise. Reality settles in when he lounges on the couch all Saturday, inevitably getting roped into an inane, violent videogame by Nicky, Kevin glaring disapprovingly from the kitchen.

It’s real in the way the cold bites at his fingertips when he refuses to wear gloves for a morning cig, but insists on pulling on three pairs of socks. It’s the rush he gets on the court, closing out the goal, watching the opposing team’s strikers become angrier and angrier.

But most of all, Andrew thinks, Neil is real.

He might have laughed if someone had suggested that to him not even a year ago. But now, Neil might be the most solid thing in his life. When the lines between reality and not start to blur, Andrew feels loose and dizzy, like he could float away at any second. But then Neil will crawl into their bed, hesitating only a moment to judge the moment and kissing him gently, before flopping onto his back besides Andrew. He’ll look over at Andrew, that fucking glimmer in his eye and ask, “Coffee?” like he doesn’t already know what the answer is.

He’ll be the one to leave shoes all over Andrew’s rug, claiming that yes, he does need three pairs of running shoes, and no, he would not appreciate it if Andrew let Aaron sell them on eBay. Andrew will be lightheaded, ready to escape to the roof and dream about murdering his demons, when Neil will join him, hoodie tightened as much as possible and slide a carton of ice cream his way, like that could solve everything.

Neil’s a fucking idiot, no matter what Boyd and Wilds say.

That doesn’t make him any less real. And it’s not like Neil’s some magical cure all for the car crash of Andrew’s mind. It’s just, the bad days aren’t as often. More times than not, Andrew seeks Neil out, hoping for a glimpse of that breathtaking solidity.

Take right now, for example. Andrew’s pretty sure that if anyone even looks at him the wrong way, he won’t be able to hold himself accountable for what he might do. He’s sequestered himself away in the library, the wind chill a little high for the roof, even by his standards. He desperately wants a cig, but he’s not a goddamn junkie, and so he digs his nails into the palm of his hand, stifling the urge.

The whole reason he came to the library was to get away from people who know him, and Andrew’s not so sure he’s succeeded, seeing how Neil just stumbled into the library. His cheeks are bright pink and his hair is ruffled even though everytime he goes outside, Andrew tells him to wear a hat. Neil runs a hand through his windblown hair, unknowingly looking thoroughly debauched. Andrew is not pleased.

Andrew slouches down in his chair, trying to avoid what he knows is coming. Neil spots him, his face lighting up like a goddamn Christmas tree and Andrew mentally raises the percent in his head. Beelining towards him, Neil slings his bag onto the table when he arrives, loudly pulling out a chair and practically dropping into it.

“I was looking for you,” Neil wheezes, pounding his chest sightly.

“Did you run here?” He doesn’t want to engage, but Neil is panting and Andrew’s mind naturally goes into the last time he was panting and he has to shift in his seat.

“Yeah, away from Kevin,” Neil levels him with an accusing look, shrugging his jacket off and moving to open his backpack. Andrew stares back at him, deadpan. Neil flips his textbook open, seemingly unconcerned. “I figured you’d be on the roof,” he explains. “You weren’t obviously, but Kevin was. I guess he’s looking for you, too. He wanted extra Exy practice but I have a huge test tomorrow,” Neil gestures towards his book, “and told him I’d be right back.”

“You ran here.” Andrew states, not quite sure what to do with the information. Neil shrugs and Andrew sees right through him. Neil’s obviously concerned and trying to hide his feelings behind a mask of unaffected nonchalance. He knows that when Neil didn’t find Andrew on the roof or in the dorm that he would have searched all over campus.

The thought doesn’t make him want to be physically ill, which is a development. He can still feel the ghost of hands on his skin and the racket in his head hasn’t quite subsided so instead of leaning towards Neil, he slumps down further in his chair.

Neil looks casual, flipping obnoxiously through his textbook. He doesn’t say anything else and Andrew lets the silence fall over his mind, muffling out the cacophony. For a moment, all he can hear is Neil’s steady breathing, the scratching of his pencil on paper and the occasional turning of a page. He knows Neil knows it’s a bad day, knows Neil’s known it since Andrew said nothing this morning, choosing instead to hibernate under the blankets like his life depended on it.

But Neil said nothing, and the fact that he chose to seek Andrew out, even if it was just to spend time with him meant something to Andrew. The knots in his stomach ease up slightly, and he raises up in his seat. Neil glances up at him, the eraser of a pencil wedged between his teeth as he gnaws on the metal. Heathen.

Neil’s staring at Andrew like he holds the fucking world and usually, Andrew would be irritated by the attention, but today he stares back. Then Neil smiles, radiant bright brilliant, and Andrew has to look away. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying? I don’t think I hold the answers to,” he peers over at Neil’s textbook, “Advanced Calculus.”

Shrugging, Neil slams his book shut. He shoves it aside, dropping his pencil somewhere into the recesses of his backpack. “I was just doodling anyway,” he grinned, and Andrew rolls his eyes, snatching Neil’s notebook. “Hey!” Neil exclaims, halfheartedly reaching out to grab it back. Andrew gives him a look, glancing down at the paper.

He’s surprised to see himself, drawn in Neil’s steady hand. Fractions and formulas float behind him, but the drawing of Andrew, slumped down in his chair, hood over his face, remains real. Neil is looking at him, a curiously indecipherable expression on his face. Almost like he’s scared of what Andrew will think. Andrew sets the notebook down on the table, running his fingers over the drawing once, before carefully ripping the page out, folding it, and tucking it in his pocket for further study.

“That’s my homework,” Neil blithely remarks, like he didn’t just somehow change the entire course of Andrew’s day.

Andrew levels him a flat stare. “Do you want me to murder you?” Neil holds up his hands in mock defense, haphazardly shoving papers and his calc book back in his bag.

“You wanna get something to eat? Kevin threw out all the takeout last night,” Neil offers, carefully assessing Andrew. Doing the same to himself, Andrew wonders if he’s ready to be around others yet. He hasn’t thought of the past almost since Neil got here and decides he’d rather be with Neil in another place then sit here by himself. Not that he thought Neil would just leave if Andrew told him he wanted to stay.

He shoves his chair back in answer, throwing Neil’s backpack at him. Neil doesn’t grin but Andrew’s positive he wants to. He sees the twitch of Neil’s lips out of the corner of his eye and as Neil rounds the table to stand by him, Andrew pinches his wrist sharply. The touch is through a layer of clothes but Andrew feels a familiar wave of nausea, even though he was the one to initiate it. He snatches his hand away, reminding himself even though he’s not feeling quite as murderous, this is still a bad day where his demons lurk around every corner.

Neil curses, but merely sends Andrew a heated look. He seems to sense that Andrew’s not doing too well and shrugs his jacket on, zipping it up, his shirt getting stuck more than once. “Are you a fucking child?” Andrew snarls over his shoulder, attracting several disapproving pairs of eyes from around the library. Neil just laughs, breezing past him, holding the door open for Andrew, careful to make sure he’s out of the way.

“Want me to drive?” Andrew tosses Neil the keys in reply, even though every fiber of his being is aching to be in control. His urge to hurt something is returning and not even the biting cold is enough to distract him, although it keeps him grounded. He hasn’t felt detached since Neil can through the library doors, however and he’s trying to count that as a win.

The second he’s in the car and Neil sticks the keys in the ignition, Andrew cracks a window, digging through his pockets for a pack of cigarettes, his fingers trembling slightly. Neil doesn’t say anything, simply digs the lighter out of his pocket and cranks the heat so high Andrew can barely hear the rumbling bass playing on the radio.

They seem to be driving aimlessly for a while, sitting in silence, just the sound of the heater and the radio filling the space. Andrew doesn’t mind. It allows his mind to quiet, allows him to stare at the profile of Neil’s face, his brow furrowed slightly. Andrew’s on his second cig, passing it occasionally to Neil when they pull up to a small diner Andrew’s never been before.

Neil turns the car off, letting the keys drop through his fingers and into Andrew’s outstretched palm. He clenches his fist around them, the biting metal surprisingly grounding. Neil slides out of the car, but Andrew waits. He carefully tucks the keys back into his pocket, tries to spot Neil. His breathing is irrationally fast and Andrew slams his fist against the side of the car. Angry with himself, he climbs out of the car. Neil’s got his arms propped up on the roof of the car and the look he gives Andrew is surprisingly open.

Andrew thinks he appreciates this honestly, even unasked for, more than anything else Neil could give him. He knows Neil wants to help, knows he really can’t help, and this open, unflinching honesty is much more than Andrew deserves. But he’s a selfish person and he’ll take Neil’s unwavering support for as long as it’s offered.

Tugging his sweatshirt around him, Andrew wishes he had worn his coat instead. The wind is unforgiving and standing into it makes him feel like he can’t quite catch his breath. It makes him feel like he’s flying and it’s liberating. Neil goes to open the door, but Andrew shakes his head. “Order for me.”

Neil goes inside without question, leaving Andrew to kick at the cement. He sits on one of the parking stops outside the front, lighting another cigarette. He takes a drag, blows out the smoke, and lets the rest of it burn to the filter before he stubs it out. He fingers the knives inside his armbands, his fingers numbing. It’s almost 15 minutes later before he finally pulls himself up to go inside, the bell jingling cheerily above him.

Andrew’s not sure where Neil found this diner, because he feels like he just stepped back in time to the sixties. The booths are red and white laminate, the tiles the same color, although the white ones look like one too many cokes were spilled. There’s a jukebox in the corner, cheerily playing a Beach Boys song, and the waitress at the bar gives Andrew a hair too long of a lookover, clearly trying to reconcile his murderous expression with the neon orange sweatshirt he has on.

Andrew resists the urge to flip her off and makes his way towards the back where Neil has selected a booth where he can sit with his back to the wall. Andrew is slightly comforted by the reminder Neil has demons he has to fight as well.

He slides into the booth, grimacing slightly at the sticky feeling. Neil’s currently occupied with stuffing curly fries in his mouth, the plate in front of him looking like the site of a massacre. Neil overzealously uses ketchup and Andrew thinks it’s disgusting. Maybe Neil does it just so Andrew won’t snatch food off his plate.

There’s a chocolate milkshake, a giant plate of crinkle cut fries and a hamburger, plain except for bacon and a side of mustard. Andrew stares at the plate, unable to comprehend for a moment. He’s taken aback by Neil’s easy understanding of him, and the fuzziness of this morning seems like a distant memory. Andrew feels like he could feel any emotion he wanted right now, like he’s tethered to the ground by Neil’s hand.

He doesn’t say anything, just dunks three fries into his milkshake and stuffs them into his mouth. He’s about halfway through his plate of fries, Neil methodically picking apart the bun to his burger and occasionally trying to steal the bacon off his plate when Andrew’s phone starts buzzing on the table. He shoves it towards Neil, not in the mood to talk to anyone right this second and Neil takes one look at the caller ID before shutting it down.

Andrew’s phone starts buzzing again and Neil rolls his eyes. Andrew snorts, shoving another fry in his mouth. Swiping across his phone, Neil puts it on speaker. “Andrew’s phone, how may I help you?”

He can practically hear steam blowing out of Kevin’s ears, right before his accusing voice explodes out of the phone. “Where the fuck are you?” Kevin snaps, and Andrew would be pissed if he weren’t so amused by the look on Neil’s face.

“We decided to get lunch,” Neil replies blandly. “I was feeling antsy.” Andrew tries not to think too much into the way Neil covered for him, but he finds himself aching with the urge to kiss Neil senseless.

“It’s 3:30,” Kevin snaps, his voice taking on that emotionless tone that only happens when he’s good and truly pissed off. Andrew’s more confused by the time. He didn’t realize it was so late. Reaching over, he grabs Neil’s wrist, pushing his sleeve back to get a good look at his watch. Sure enough, it’s late afternoon. He’s not sure whether to focus more on the fact time slipped away from him, or the fact he’s holding Neil’s arm, and feels perfectly fine.

Neil’s trying to get Kevin off the phone, eventually just hanging up on him. He slumps down in his seat. “Fucker,” he groans, staring moodily across the table at Andrew. Andrew gets out of his seat, ignoring the way Neil looks up at him with confusion, only to slide into the booth on Neil’s side. “What are you doing?” Neil murmurs, like he’s barely breathing.

Andrew thinks if he can do this, can take control of the situation, he’ll be fine. He remembers the nausea of this morning, even touching Neil through his clothes and hopes he’s come down to earth more since then.

“Yes or no?” He won’t take this step without Neil, and the yes has barely fallen from Neil’s lips before Andrew kisses him.

It isn’t a nice kiss, not that many of them are, but Andrew is tender in the way he tugs on Neil’s hair to bring him closer, and the hovering of Neil’s hands over his shoulders make Andrew’s heart tighten. He trusts Neil and the fact he trusts Neil makes him angry and terrified beyond belief. He doesn’t ever want to stop feeling this way and knows if he ever does, his life would be meaningless.

They break apart, Neil panting slightly, his lips swollen and red and if they weren’t in a public place, Andrew would let Neil get down on his knees. The ache of this morning is gone, replaced by Neil’s breath against his face, the smell of the fries and the jukebox music, now playing a lively GoGos song.

“You okay?” Neil finally asks, the question Andrew knows has been on his mind since he woke to Andrew’s stony silence.

“118%,” Andrew whispers into his ear, enjoying the way Neil’s back arches slightly. Before Neil can say anything else, or recover his breath, Andrew’s kissing him again.

He thinks to himself, this is real this is real this is real. The thrumming of Neil’s heart underneath his palms is real and the flutter of his own is just as concrete. The lingering sweetness in his mouth from his milkshake is real and the music in the background is tangible. Andrew doesn’t know when “I hate yous” and percents became his own language for conveying emotions, but this is the most alive he’s felt today.

Neil’s fingers clenched in his sweatshirt pull him to earth and the insistent press of his tongue keep him in the moment. He knows they’ll have to go back eventually, have to face Kevin but Andrew isn’t thinking of that.

He’s lost in Neil, in this small bubble they’ve created for themselves. When they break apart again, Neil uses the opportunity to snatch another one of Andrew’s fries, and he scrambles for the butter knife to smack Neil on the knuckles. Neil lets out a surprised yelp, shock flitting over his features before he barks a laugh, his face open and pleased.

This is real.

#aftg fic #tfc fic #andreil fic #allforthegamenet #aftgnet #usernuwanda #mishsfamily #userlyra #userriya #*mw #andreil #text #hi i did a thing #all for the game #the foxhole court #lit

394 notes · View notes

jinshexedupworld-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Kdrama actor and Kpop artist confession. If you’re a fan of any Kceleb PLEASE READ ALL THE WAY THROUGH

Edit: I was pretty direct in my original post but after some thought I have gone back through and censored the actors and artists names just a bit. I have a story to tell. Not sure anyone will hear it. Not sure they will believe it or even care but I’m going to tell it anyway because I have to get this off my chest. I studied for a couple of years at uni abroad in Korea. Koreans for fucks sake are some of the most antisocial bunch if you’re a foreigner I have to say. But thats not what this is about. I happened to make friends with this one guy, Andrew. He is part Korean but also had lived in Britain somewhere or other too so he was more welcoming to me. Seeing as he was almost my only friend there we quickly became close. Nice guy, a bit on the quirky side and didn’t talk much about his personal life to the point it was a little odd. He was very, very secretive. In fact the only really personal things he talked about was his job, school and the fact that he was a member of the LGBT community. When we would hang out it was always at my dorm or we would meet at a coffee shop or someplace. He never invited me to his place. I even got a wee bit frustrated with it and confronted him about it one day. He got more than a little nervous at that and made all these lame excuses about his room mates being busy and he didn’t want to disturb them or that we wouldn’t have much fun there. I was a bit annoyed at this but I let it slide. He was still a nice guy after all and my only close friend there and I enjoyed him. We had fun together. He was constantly getting texts and phone calls from people he called his friends or room mates. He even had a boyfriend that I knew literally nothing about! I felt a little left out. I would ask about them or about meeting them and there was always some vague explanation about them and some excuse why we couldn’t meet. At this point I had known him almost a year and still didn’t even know their names! Not even his boyfriends name! Then one day I asked to borrow his phone and he was unnecessarily protective of it. Yea I get it we’re all weird about anyone else having our phones but come on geez I was having transportation issues , had a dead phone battery and just needed to make a quick call. Long story short I get his phone and make my call. When I clicked end his contact list pops up and theres names in it I recognize. K-idol names. A mix of actors and Kpop artists. I just figure maybe hes some kind of fanboy and maybe he and his mysterious friends use celebrity name handles. Sorry but Kpop fans can be weird and obsessive sometimes, ya know? And he’s just a college boy. Who is he going to know really? Meanwhile Andrew had been distracted by someone he knew who had approached him and they were busy talking away. So my curiosity got the best of me and his screen hadn’t gone black yet, I still had access. So I go on a little snooping spree through his phone trying my best to not look suspicious. Yes I know I’m a bad person but I’m human what can I say? I kid you not, this guy has selca pics out the ass literally probably hundreds of himself with several Korean actors and idols. I couldn’t even mentally take in all of them. I know there were many many with E♦♦ members. I saw at least one with P♦♦♦ H♦♦♦♦ S♦♦ I think his name is? The actor and Z♦♦ guy and I think there was another Z♦♦ member in one of them too if I remember right. There were many with P♦♦♦ B♦ G♦♦, a few with N♦♦ members, one with who I think was a B♦♦ member and quite several with Y♦♦ S♦♦♦♦ H♦. Even several completely random mixed up ones. I was nervous and hurrying faster than my brain can process but I specifically remember one of Andew, B♦♦♦ B♦♦♦ H♦♦♦, B♦ G♦♦ and S♦♦♦♦ H♦ and someone else I didn’t recognize sitting on a couch laughing like they were having a grand ol time. I’m not even much of a Kceleb person but that one shocked me. He had another of K♦♦ J♦♦♦ D♦♦ and B♦ G♦♦ together. And thats just the ones I seen before I got nervous about getting caught. I have to say I was officially intrigued by him though after that. And they didn’t seem like fan pics! That’s what got me most. They looked too comfortable. And they didn’t look like they were taken at any sort of event, concert, fanmeet etc. They were all in normal clothes and sans makeup, in some they even had drink glasses and looked like they could have been in the comfort of their own home. Over the next few months, Andrew did finally start talking to me about it more. He happened to be a childhood friend of a K celeb. Somehow it all snowballed from that. Now he lives with a few of them and is dating one. I won’t go so far as to say which one but he has been for almost 3 years now. I found out he hides behind a “fan” account on Twitter under the name Guksu or JongdaesByuns … or Byunz maybe or some shit like that. Or thats what it used to be at least, I can’t say for certain now. I followed him for a bit before I deleted my Twitter account. I always found it funny he hid behind a fan account for all the people he actually knows. He explained to me that he does it more so for the purpose of supporting those he knows personally and for defending them and speaking out against wrongdoings {I’ll get to that shortly}, and from what I seen he really does. And of course when you’re in uni theres always boredom and the need for time passing. And though I was never much of a Twitter person either, it certainly passes time when you’re bored to death. He’s had several stalkers on there try to expose him. Fuck knows how they even knew because he always denies or is vague from what I’ve seen. And I even got to visit his house and meet a couple of these people . Those I mentioned above, maybe some others even I’m not sure, are all associated with him. I’ve never been a huge fan of K idols myself but I was around uni enough to recognize many, many of them and know some of their work. It’s still kind of weird finding out celebrities are friends with other idols you never suspected they would be. Made me laugh myself a bit at all the stupid fuckin fanwars I would overhear at uni. Fuck if people only knew. I’m not going to say a lot of shit on here because I know how crazy Kfans are and no one will probably believe this shit anyway. Fuck I saw it for myself and I still am in shock so I wouldn’t even blame anyone. But for what its worth, I’m putting it out there. Believe it or don’t, it’s whatever. Doesn’t really change my life any either way except hoping I will feel better having put this out there. Now onto my reasoning A few months ago I had to go back home and Andrew and I had a bit of a falling out before I left . Not going to get into that but we haven’t kept in contact since. But some of the things he told me still haunts me. About the Korean entertainment industry, both music and drama. The way these people are treated. I even heard it from two of them firsthand. There is so much I want to say but I have heard horror stories about what Korean entertainment companies do to people who speak out against them. I don’t really want to risk that. But if any of you watch Kdrama or listen to Kpop I hope you will keep in mind the amount of suffering those idols go through for your entertainment. The working until they pass out or sick, then being pulled up off the ground and told to get back to work. {side story: I was at Andrew’s house one night when one of the above mentioned people called another asking for a ride home from a set because he had worked 70+ hours straight and passed out several times. } Caking on more and more makeup to hide the fact that they are deathly exhausted. The physical, mental and sexual abuse. Yes sexual. And I’m not talking about isolated incidents. I’m talking about these things being the daily lives of K actors and Kpop artists. And absolutely everything that gets said about them publicly are lies. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G-. If it’s in any way personally related to them and you hear it , then its a fucking publicity lie. Where they live and their homes are lies. The cars they drive are lies. All set up. I mean considering how crazy and stalkery Kfans are and the fact that so many of them don’t know their boundaries or respect privacy, because yes I have seen this for myself so this much I can understand. But it goes much deeper than that. They don’t date who it is told to you that they date. This is probably the biggest one. Their real dating lives are kept creepily under lock and key and the relationship rumors all of you hear are always fake. A.L.W.A.Y.S. Sometimes even marriages and family lives are fake and set up. More so if its an LGBT idol. It’s seriously crazy on the verge of psychotic how far its taken to control these idols lives. And its because everything is considered a scandal in Korea. And fans go crazy over absolutely everything and drop and shit talk their idols over the most ridiculous shit. So these places they are contracted with go to extreme measures to have complete control over what the public knows. Some of them are gay, maybe a lot of them. But hey guys in the entertainment industry are much more likely to be gay I will tell you that now. I was in theater in middle school, high school and uni for close to 10 years and I probably knew less than 5 males in it that whole time who were NOT gay, or claimed they weren’t anyway. Gay men love the arts industries. Not trying to be stereotypical but its kind of a fact. And they’re good at it! So there ya go. I know how anti-LGBT Kfans tend to be so let me tell you, get yourself the fuck over it cause you have gay idols. Probably many. You being hard on them over that is just making their already miserable lives even worse. My only real reason for posting this is to just get all that shit off my chest. I’m not doing this for attention because honestly I couldn’t give two fucks in space what Kfans think. I don’t listen to Kpop or watch Kdramas and since I am no longer in Korea I’m not really exposed to it much at all so I don’t give a flying fuck what the fans of it think of me. And I don’t care to or have time for dealing with their crazy asses. I do want people to know what their idols go through for them just because I think its really fucked up and you all should know if you actually do care about these people. I won’t be responding to any replies or answering questions so don’t waste your time. I needed to get this out there, simple as that. I have lived carrying this with me for awhile now. It gets heavy guys. Really fucking heavy. It just makes me sick that human beings have to endure slave-like lives for those companies and theres really nothing we can do about it. Fuck its 2018 and this shit still goes on. I doubt this post will even get anyones attention but I guess in the very least I got it off my chest. Edit: Yea I know I maybe just exposed him myself but I don’t even know that he’s still active anymore. I haven’t had my Twitter account in quite some time. And he doesn’t use his full name or say much on there personally anyway so I’m not too worried. And like I said, we had a falling out so take that as you will.

Also a final side note for anyone who read this all the way through and isn’t too busy bitching me out: I have seen some of them scrolling through his Twitter profile/feed/whatever before. Several times actually. So yeah they do fuckin see the things you post.

#kdrama #kpop #korean celebrities

3 notes · View notes

angelimortisrp-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

G L O R Y (&&) GORE — meet SAYID AMARI; the ICARUS.

“is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?”

{ ♚ AT A GLANCE }

name: Sayid Amari.

age: 35.

gender & pronouns: UTP.

occupation: Mechanic, owner of Nuts & Bolts (&) arms dealer for the Romano family.

loyalty: Romano.

availability: Open.

faceclaim: Rami Malek. ( non-negotiable. )

{ ♚ A DEEPER LOOK }

‘One minute I held the key, next the walls were closed on me.’ Lyrics echoed throughout the garage as Sayid worked, thinking about the irony behind that particular line. It was true; for a long while, he’d felt in control of his shop, of his business. That was, until the Angeli Mortis had come knocking. Sayid’s father had passed unexpectedly, leaving the business to his son - but without telling him about the debts he owed to the local criminal organisation. The Angeli Mortis had sent their heavyweights knocking - and Sayid hadn’t had a choice in agreeing to their terms. The operation had been explained in fairly simple terms; he smuggled weapons for them, dismantled and hidden in cars that were brought into the shop. Shipments came in once a month, pickups happened the night after. As far as they were concerned, Sayid was under their control until his father’s debts were paid off - and Sayid hadn’t the heart to ask how long that would take. It had been the same for almost five years; and the constant worry that the law would catch up with him was always in the back of Sayid’s mind.

{ ♚ A HISTORY LESSON }

For a short while in his childhood, Sayid Amari had it all. His family lived in a beautiful apartment in Manhattan - wealthy, respected, but unfortunately lacking any kind of familial atmosphere. The money was his mothers’, coming from old family inheritances that only seemed to double with every generation that passed. However, Sayid was in his early teens when his mother’s alcoholism quickly had taken that all away. He was thirteen when his parents divorced, with his mother retaining almost everything - a prenuptial agreement had made sure of that. Sayid and his father, Asim, moved into a small apartment in The Bronx and began to rebuild their lives from the ground up. It was somewhat freeing, to finally be away from the grasp of his mother, but starting from scratch turned out to be a little more difficult than he’d first anticipated.

Asim Amari had always been a handyman. For as long as Sayid could remember, his father had been the sole working provider for the family and had always owned a small car garage in Brooklyn, and had often taken his son to work with him when he didn’t have a babysitter. Sayid grew up with a passion for fixing things; constantly dismantling and reassembling his toys - and decided whilst he was in high school that he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps. Asim had always fully planned for his son to inherit what had become a family business and was more than willing to incorporate his child, instilling the same hardworking beliefs into Sayid that he had.

Sayid, however, had never learned how his father’s business remained so successful. In an economy that always seemed to be failing in some way or another - a small family business like Nuts & Bolts shouldn’t have survived. Yet, it did. It wasn’t until his father was diagnosed with terminal cancer that he decided to reveal the truth. Well, half of the truth. On his deathbed, his father had informed his son that he was involved in something criminal, and had asked Sayid to stay out of it. Sayid, with no idea what his father meant, had thrown himself into working in the car garage after his father’s passing and had believed everything was fine - until the Angeli Mortis came knocking.

It was then that the entire operation was explained to him. His father had been working as an arms supplier for a local crime family - having the guns smuggled in through cars brought into the shop, dismantling, reassembling and then selling them on to the Romano family. It all seemed absurd to Sayid - this was clearly what his father had warned him to stay away from. He’d tried to resist at first, but The Angeli Mortis weren’t going to let that happen. He was advised that his father owed debts to the Romano family - and that Sayid would work until they were paid off. Sayid didn’t want to ask how long that would be for - but from the proceeding years, it seemed that it was going to be a long time.

Sayid has been working for the city’s criminal organisations ever since. Nothing in his schedule has changed. He provides twice monthly drop offs for the family and collects his profits at the end of the month. It keeps his business afloat and pays his bills - and although he struggles with the legality and morality of his decisions, he’s consistently reminding himself that this was not his choice. He was forced into it by his father’s decisions before him, and he has no way out now.

{ ♚ NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT }

Working for the Angeli Mortis had brought a sense of job security to Sayid Amari. He knew, like his father before him, that as long as he was providing them with guns, they’d provide him with business. However, it wasn’t destined to remain that way. 2017 came with terrible news; the death of Michael Romano was enough to shake everyone within the family to their core, but with Juliet’s death following so close after, Sayid’s head was left spinning. There had to be an explanation for it, but what would that be? Digging around in Mafia business should be something he kept his nose far out of, but his curiosity got the better of him. For the few he trusts within the mob, he’s been asking questions - but all fingers are pointing to each other. The breakdown of the Angeli Mortis has left him on edge, unsure of where he stands within both families - if he stands anywhere at all, that is. He’s spending time figuring himself out and what he’d like to be as an arms dealer, but with violence beginning to surround on all sides - it’s only so long before he’s dragged into it, too.

{ ♚ ABOUT THE PERSONALITY }

+: observant, rational, intelligent, passionate -: reluctant, isolated, pessimistic, weak-willed

Sayid, although a confident young man, has always been slightly more fearful than his father. In himself, he’s comfortable, but when it comes to facing the Romano family, he’s somewhat of a frightened little boy. He wishes for nothing more than the Romano family to move on and leave him and his business alone, but he knows it’ll never happen. Sayid, however, does pay incredibly close attention to things going on around him and has, of course, noticed the divide in the Angeli Mortis since the deaths of Michael and Juliet. He can’t help but fear that his job, and life, may be on the line - but perhaps he’s ready to reach a stage where he can make peace with his wrongdoing. Sayid Amari is not a fighter, and tends to keep himself to himself more often than not. Outside of his monthly arms deals, Sayid tries his hardest to distance himself from the criminal side of the city - but with most of the people he knows being involved in some way, it’s always difficult to remain away from the grasp of the Romano family for long.

{ ♚ FRIENDS & FOES }

♠ Michael McCoy ( DISTRIBUTOR / FRIEND ) - “mick, how do you live with yourself? y’know, knowing that you’re supposed to protect people from this shit?” ; Michael McCoy was one of the first Romano family members that Sayid had the pleasure ( or misfortune ) of meeting. In the beginning, he had no idea that the man was a police officer, but as their friendship continued, each began to ask questions about the other. Sayid discovered that Mick had only become involved through trying to protect his sister - but was now in over his head. Caoimhe was the true displeasure to meet - arrogant, manipulative, and feeling that the world revolved around her, Sayid avoids her at all costs. However, Michael and Sayid have grown into strong friends, and Sayid is finding more and more support in the man with the currently tumultuous feeling in Manhattan - he knows that he needs all the support he can get, but doesn’t have too many sources to seek help from.

♠ Andrew Gibbins ( DISTRIBUTOR / FRIEND ) - “i don’t know who’s going to get in more trouble here, andrew. you, or me...” ; Whilst the Angeli Mortis were still a functioning organisation, working with those associated with the Venturi family was completely fine. Encouraged, actually, depending on where your loyalties lay. After the death of both Michael Romano and Juliet Venturi, these criminals are playing in an entirely different ball game. Territories have been split back to what they were before the Angeli Mortis - and for Nuts & Bolts, that was solely Romano territory. Andrew and Sayid had struck up a strong friendship during that time, but after the fall of the Angeli Mortis, Sayid is wondering if he should be reconsidering. He continues to provide arms to Andrew and has ensured that all of his current deals are carried out under the table - trying to make sure that the Romano family don’t catch wind of it - and has begun to order extra in his shipments to ensure he can keep up with the demand. He’s concerned that there will be trouble if he’s caught - but on the other hand, losing a valuable friend and client may not be worth it, either.

♠ The Romano Family ( ASSOCIATES ) - “i never asked to be a part of this, you know. i never wanted to be a criminal.” ; Working with the Romano family would never have been something Sayid would have chosen to do. He’s never fully understood why his father would have chosen to work for a criminal organisation - but there are debts to be paid and he can’t back out now. In working with the crime family though, Sayid can’t deny that he’s made some friends. He’s forged a friendship with Isabella Romano, although he is unaware of her part in Michael Romano’s murder, and he’s partial to spending time with Oliwia Ajeti, feeling that both of them are in similar positions when it comes to their places within the mob - although he is not as well adjusted as she is.

{ ♚ EXTRAS }

character teaser.

inspiration tag.

gif hunts.

SAYID IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FOR AUDITIONS.

#rami malek fc #bio rpg #lsrpg #rpg #gang rp #crime rp #sayid amari #sayidbio #open #romano #all

1 note · View note

soldierstark · 8 years ago

Text

Why Am I Like This | Part 3 | JUGHEAD JONES X READER

Description: Archie continues to bagger Jughead about his feelings for the reader hoping he'll realize it will be better in the long run if she knows. Later in the day, Jughead comes home to see Archie and the reader asleep next to each other after they fell asleep practicing for their upcoming performance at the homecoming dance which leads to an interesting event between him and the reader.

Word Count: 1758

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5

Jughead was starting to see the effects of Homecoming week all around Riverdale high. Banners were being hung up in hallways, girls were dressing up nicer trying to get last minute dates, and new relationships were getting formed every day.

It made Jughead sick to his stomach with longing. The whole feeling was new to him, he had never longed to be able to hold a girl’s hand in the hallway or be the reason a girl smiles filled with love. But things were different this year, for the first time he wanted to be able hold a girl’s hand in the hallway or make her smile filled with love.

Things were getting easier though, now that Archie knew of his un-denying affection for (Y/N) Jughead finally had someone to vent too. It was better than keeping it all bottled up or writing about it on his computer, he had learned his lesson.

Jughead stared out of the window as Archie drove them to school, taking the scenic route. Trees blurred by along with the occasional runner, not another car in sight. Out of nowhere, Archie started slowing down causing Jughead to lurch forward.

Archie pressed a button and the window next to Jughead’s face rolled down. The car continued to slow until they ended up traveling next to a familiar (Y/H/C) girl.

(Y/N)’s hair was plastered to her face with sweat but she still managed to look amazing. No one could rock running shorts and a pull over Nike jacket quite like she did. She was deep in thought and didn’t even notice that Jughead and Archie were driving alongside her.

Jughead cleared his throat. “Damn shawty you looking fine this morning. Wanna give me yo digits?” (Y/N) whipped her head around and smiled brightly when she saw her friends.

“Hey guys what’s up?” she said between labored breathes. (Y/N) grabbed onto the window next to Jughead to keep pace with the car.

“We’re heading school obviously. Where else would be going on a Tuesday at 7:45,” Archie deadpanned. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and let out a dry chuckle. “I just wanted to stop and ask if we were still on tonight,” Archie said.

She nodded her head. “Yea I’ll meet you around 7:00. Hey, any of ya’ll nerds got some water?”

Jughead reached down by his feet and grabbed a water bottle from the side pocket of his backpack. He stuck his hand out of the window and handed to (Y/N) who started drinking it thankfully. “Thanks Jug. What would I ever do without you?” she gasped out giving back the bottle

“You’d probably denigrate into a pile of dust,” he quipped with a charming smile.

(Y/N)’s cheeks splurged a tinge of pink but Jughead didn’t think anything of it. “How far are we from the school?” she asked.

Archie shrugged his shoulders. “2 and a half miles give or take.”

“Alright,” she replied backing away from the car. “I don’t want to make ya’ll late. I’ll try to meet you guys by Archie’s locker before I head to the showers during 1st period. See you in like 12 minutes.”

“Peace homie,” Archie waved before pressing the gas. Once they reached cruising speed, Jughead took a swig from his water bottle. Archie laughed.

“What,” Jughead asked suspiciously.

“You basically just kissed (Y/N) Jughead. How do you feel having finally kissed the girl of your dreams?”

Jughead sighed dramatically and went back to staring out the passenger side window. “Freaking fantastic Archie just great,” he mumbled.

“Honestly Jughead, you really need to just tell her. (Y/N) a babe dude and it’s not gonna be long until some other guy comes along and steals her heart. Don’t miss your chance.”

“You mean like Matthew Jackson?” Jughead spat.

“Oh did I not tell you? Yea that’s not happening. She turned him down,” Archie said whilst turning into the school parking lot.

Jughead sat up straight and looked at Archie in disbelief. “Really? Why?”

Archie chuckled at his friend’s enthusiasm. “She said that dances weren’t really her thing and that she’d only go if the guy she liked asked her. Plus he isn’t her type apparently.”

“The tragedy continues. First she doesn’t like me back and now she likes someone else.”

Archie groaned as he pulled into a parking spot. “You don’t know that for sure. For all we know the guy she likes could be you! Which is why you need to tell (Y/N) that you like her.”

“What if I tell her and she actually doesn’t like me back? Huh? She might not to even be friends after that.”

Archie cut the engine to his car and looked at his best friend. “I know you don’t want to hear me say this Jughead, but at this point I think that’s a risk you’re just gonna have to take.” And with that Archie exited his car.

“What the fuck?”

A deep throaty groan erupted from my mouth as I sat up straight rubbing my eyes dazedly. I opened my eyes and looked around noticing that I was not in my room and that Jughead was in the doorway staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hey Jug what’s up,” I said with a yawn.

He walked into the room and sat his backpack down near the door. “I was just about to ask you the same question. Why are you and Archie taking a nap together?”

I looked down where I was sitting and saw Archie Andrews passed out next to me gripping his guitar loosely. The notebook we wrote our song notes in was under my right leg.

“Oh I guess we must’ve fallen asleep practicing,” I said looking back up at Jughead who I swear was getting more and more attractive every time I saw him.

His blue eyes that were usually a light blue were darker and his lips were pressed into a fine line. We started at each other for a moment in complete silence.

“You look mad. Why?” I asked standing up off of Archie’s bed.

Jughead crossed his arms. “I’m not mad.”

“Uh huh,” I replied with a raised eyebrow. “Whatever I’m not gonna push it but I guess I should get going. I don’t think Archie and I are gonna get much practice in today.”

Jughead sat down on his makeshift bed and looked up at me. “You can stay if you want. We have video games and junk food plus Archie is a really heavy sleeper. Trust me, he won’t wake up.”

I smiled at sat down to him, our shoulders touching. “Well how could I possibly say no to spending time with my favorite person in all of Riverdale.”

He stuck out his bottom lip giving me pouty face. “Not the whole world?”

I grabbed the X-box remotes and handed him one with a smirk. “You know Percy Jackson will always hold the key to my heart.”

Jughead chuckled and looked up at the TV setting up the game we were playing. “So he’s your type then?”

“What do you mean?” I asked glancing away from the game we were playing for a split second.

“Archie told me that you turned down Matthew Jackson because he wasn’t your type.”

“He did, did he? Well yes Matthew Jackson isn’t my type but I didn’t turn him down for that sole reason,” I replied.

Jughead nodded his head in my peripheral vision. “I know, he filled me in,” he said dryly. “What is your type anyway?”

"Wouldn’t you like to know,” I laughed bumping my shoulder against his playfully.

“(Y/N) you messed me up! But yes actually I would like know.”

“Well,” I trailed off. “Most guys I find attractive have really light colored eyes and long dark hair. Not like, man bun long, but longer than normal you know? He needs to have the same sense of humor that I do and be able to accept the fact that I would totally destroy him in a fight.”

“And the guy you like fits this description?”

A noise came out of the TV signaling the end of our match, which I had won. I dropped my controller in my lap and turned my head towards Jughead. We were sitting leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder. My skin tingled at the contact, making me want to shiver though I wasn’t cold.

He turned to look at me, his crystal blue eyes a mere 3 inches away. We were so close that I could see every freckle adorned on his face like constellations. My lips parted involuntarily as we continued to stare at each other in utter silence. Our breath mingled together while a faint pink tinge appeared on Jughead’s cheeks.

“Perfectly,” I whispered, answering his earlier question.

Neither of dare move an inch though I really wanted to. It was taking every ounce of will power I had to not shove Jughead against his bed and make out with him like a crazy hormonal teenager. Which is ironic because that’s pretty much exactly what I was.

Jughead reached a hand up, tantalizingly slow. My heart pounded in my chest, thumping like the erratic fire of a machine gun. His fingers gently brushed a piece of my (Y/H/C) hair behind my ear then cupped my cheek. I leaned into his touch not once breaking eye contact, enjoying the sensation of his thumb stroking my cheek.

His head started to move closer while his eyelids fluttered closed. Jughead’s hand gently pulled my face towards his and I gladly complied. I tilted my to the side and closed my eyes, anticipating the pressure of his soft lips against mine in a way that I knew would feel oh so good.

And at that very moment, right when Jughead and I were about to kiss, Archie awoke with a start and fell off of his bed. Jughead and I sprung apart with wide eyes and looked down at Archie who was laying on the floor in a heap of blankets.

“What the hell?” he mumbled in a rough voice. Archie opened his eyes looking quite disoriented, then sat up rubbing his head.

“Good morning sunshine,” I cooed trying to seem nonchalant.

Archie lifted his guitar that fell on the floor next to him and placed it on his bed. “Did I fall asleep practicing?”

“We did,” I corrected him while standing up. “I’m gonna head out. See you guys tomorrow.”

And on that I note I exited the room swiftly not once looking back.

Tagged: @kitkat510

#Jughead jones #Jughead jones x reader #Jughead x reader #Jughead jones fanfiction #Jughead fanfiction #Jughead fic #Jughead jones fic #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #fanfiction #off #riverdale x reader #riverdale fic

101 notes · View notes

kiatastic · 7 years ago

Text

Fall

The deep exhales of breath released from my nostrils became visible in the crisp, cold air around me. Tree branches hovered over my head as the sun filtered its beaming rays through hues of green, red and yellow leaves. Each step I took was followed by a crunch – the sound of fallen leaves under my feet. As beautiful as fall is, there is also a harsh reality:

When leaves fall, they die.

Similar to the pruning process autumn brings, there were leaves in my own life that had to fall while transitioning from the dorm room to the boardroom – habits, tendencies and character flaws that had to die if I ever wanted to grow. Moving away from Atlanta to start my career began as the loneliest season of my life. At the same time, it brought new opportunity to experience the Lord for myself, allow Him to change me and experience Him in new ways. Andy Mineo said it best in one of my favorite songs:

“I was so far from home – and everything that I’ve known. But I got grown in that time alone and that faith became my own.”

I was an anxious college-graduate. Ready to leave those awfully flavored 5-hour energy shots behind me in the KSU Sturgis Library. Eager to box my work within the parameters of 8am – 5pm. Prepared for the ultimate corporate office slay! I was also entirely wrong to believe my most challenging years were behind me. In the words of my late grandfather Charles W. Little, "All your life you are a freshman". I was at the top of my game as a college graduate and at the bottom of the largest learning curve of my life – all at the same time.

Before starting my job I was required to make a pit stop at Indiana University for 3 weeks of training sponsored by the Company known as Immersion I. Think of it as an intense boot camp for rookies in Corporate America. I met all 150 of my colleagues in the Digital Technology Leadership Program from around the world including Brazil, France, India and Egypt – and they were truly the brightest minds I’ve ever met. Each morning began with a quiz on previously reviewed material. The remaining hours were spent in C# building our capstone applications – a language I did not learn in school. I seemed to be the only one starting from ground zero. While many of my colleagues could afford to go out at night after class, I expended several hours in my hotel room learning the very basics. 11:00 pm turned into 2:00 am. 2:00 am turned into 4:00 am. 4:00 am turned into resurfaced doubts as I reflected on all I accomplished in college. From being named a top 5 IS student to winning Miss Alpha South – I started wishing I were back at KSU.

Thoughts and feelings from the previous night lingered in my head the following morning as I talked myself into finally putting my feet on the floor… so much for ditching those artificially grape-flavored 5-hour energy shots. While eating breakfast, an email notification appeared on my phone titled “Short Daily Devotion” – a daily email I receive with a short scripture and word of encouragement. The Lord put my thoughts in check with Isaiah 43:18-19:

“Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.”

After all the Lord brought me through in college, I had not really learned to trust Him. It was obvious through my desire to retreat back to a season that presented more comfort – but the only place to fully blossom is in the soil the Lord chooses to plant us. That is where His grace and perfect will reside.

I walked back to my hotel room stiff as a board – the Lord had just snatched my entire life with one scripture. I approached my room and heard a voice singing, “You are the Living Word” by Fred Hammond. It was Rachel – another colleague from my Company. I said to myself “she MUST be a believer!” We ended up going out for Endless Wing Monday at a bar that evening. From that moment to this one Rachel has been one of my closest, dearest friends. I never expected to meet a colleague at work who was also a strong Christian. The Lord orchestrated our friendship in the time I needed it most.

Three weeks passed as boot camp came to a close. Aside from earning an A in my first graduate course, my group was awarded for having the best capstone project out of all 150 colleagues in the class. I reflected back on day 1 and remembered how intimidated I was by everyone around me. Since high school, I have always had an unhealthy habit of comparing myself to others. I habitually convinced myself that I was not smart enough, experienced enough or good enough to be among the best. The problem is – there is no win in comparison. When I compare myself to others and come out on top, it breeds pride. When I compare and come out underneath, it produces false humility. Both are wrong. There is absolutely no competition for your seat at God’s table. Only you are eligible for the plans the Lord has for you.

After leaving Indiana, I flew home to get my car and drove to my new home in Jackson, TN. The commute to work was about an hour. I spent my rotation delivering software solutions to bridge gaps in the manufacturing processes on the shop floor. Fresh out of college, I knew absolutely nothing about engineering or manufacturing IT. I had Google pulled up on every phone call to look up all the terms and acronyms I did not understand. I quickly got up to speed by enrolling in free SAP classes and setting up 1x1 meetings with electrical engineers. A typical day included walking the factory floor in goggles, steel-toed boots and earplugs – so much for that ultimate corporate office slay.

Outside of work, I spent most of my weekends alone. Jackson, TN wasn’t exactly overpopulated with young professionals. Solo movie dates and online shopping became regular weekend pleasantries. I needed to get involved with a church ASAP and find some less expensive hobbies. Upon my first visit to a nearby church the pastor told me Jesus Christ was not my savior because I had not been baptized specifically in their congregation. I left in tears – devastated by the twisted approach they taught on the Word of God. I learned that day how important is to know the Word for myself. That evening I went for a walk around my apartment complex saying “Lord, if you don’t lead me directly to a new church home… I think I’d rather attend Bedside Baptist! I cannot risk experiencing that again and I need your help. Show me what to do.”

The next week I was leaving the factory floor when a man named Andre noticed me. He introduced himself and said, “Hey, I’ve seen you around and heard you’re new in Tennessee.” I looked down and noticed a brochure he was holding in his hand. “I would like to invite you to my church, Historic First Baptist”, he continued. Immediately, I remembered my prayer to the Lord. Overwhelming joy took over my countenance as I replied, “You have no idea how crazy this is. I JUST prayed for a church recommendation on Sunday!” I met Andre and his wife at HFBC that Sunday. It was more traditional than I was used to – but Pastor Watson taught on the foundation of the Bible and that was most important to me. There was no time to waste. I joined THAT Sunday. Throughout my time in Tennessee Andre and his wife, Liakita were my God-sent blessings. They encouraged me to take the New Member’s class and introduced me to so many people there. My circle of friends outside of work was birthed at HFBC. They even encouraged me to grow in my relationship with the Lord. Although I wasn’t perfect with daily quiet time, I did my best to set aside Saturday mornings to pray and read my Bible.

One Saturday in particular, I spent my morning watching a sermon on YouTube recommended by my friend Gabby called “Five Keys to Finding Your Soul Mate.” I had my pen and notepad ready – finding bae was a priority on my to-do list. The pastor, Toure Roberts made an altar call for loneliness at the end of the sermon. To my own frustration and disappointment, what I took away from that sermon had nothing to do with finding bae. Instead, the Lord brought an ugly truth in me to light – a void of loneliness.

I never knew I was lonely because I often “talked” to guys I never had any business considering. To fix that the Lord moved me to a place where I had no choice but to “talk” to Him. There were no longer casual movie dates or “good-morning, beautiful” text messages to fill my void. I began to realize that “trying to fill an infinite hole with a finite thing or person only leaves an insatiable appetite that can never be fully and finally satisfied.” Any attempt to fill a God-sized void with selfish pleasures (no matter how harmless they seem) will fail every time. The Holy Spirit showed me that the part of my life I wanted to control was the part He wanted most. I paused the YouTube video while going into one of the most unorthodox cries I have ever had. For the first time I became aware of God’s relentless pursuit of me – and my half-hearted acknowledgement of His love in return.

“… Every man’s emptiness is nothing more than a hunger for God, masked by temporary pleasures. We always want more and more of it, because it will satisfy us less and less – until soon it does not satisfy us at all.”

I had tried several times to surrender my love life (or lack thereof) to the Lord – but never sincerely meant it. I regretfully acknowledge that He had to strip me of all options to win my undivided attention. “For the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a Jealous God (Exodus 34:14).” In complete vulnerability and transparency with Him, His love ushered me into His perfect peace – a need for no one else but Him.

That same evening I received a FaceTime call from my close friend, Drew. Andrew became my go-to Alpha during my time serving as Miss Black & Gold at KSU. However, we became friends through a Bible study group the Lord led me to start during my junior year of college. After expressing how much he valued our friendship, he shared that night that he had feelings for me he could not quite put his finger on. Immediately, I said in my head “Lord, you’ve got a serious sense of humor. I know I just cried my eyes out about being single – but this is not what I wanted. Drew is my friend! I can’t date him.” Still, I was pleasantly shocked to be pursued (for the first time) by a God-fearing man. I knew Drew personally as a friend for years. I have even tried to hook him up with a friend in the past! I told him I did not know how to feel about it. He assured me that if I did not feel the same way, he would still love me as a friend. Surely this man was from another planet. Never in my life had a man with such humility and Godly love approached me the way he did.

When it was time to wrap up my first rotation in Tennessee, Drew surprised me by driving to Jackson to help pack up my apartment. I told him my company was paying all the expenses for movers to come pack – but he insisted on coming anyway. He stayed in the hotel across the street and never insinuated wanting anything out of me. I became drawn to the sincerity and Godliness of his heart. Although I thought about him often, I knew the Lord was still working on me. I read a book called “Your Knight and Shining Armor” by P.B. Wilson. At the end of it I concluded I was not ready to date anyone – there were parts of me that needed work first. Drew and I remained friends for the next several months.

Two days before my rotation ended, I pitched out my final results from my rotation to several executives and business leaders. I made friends with so many people in the factory – they even brought in home-cooked dishes on my last day! I was thanked personally by the CIO of the business for going to work alone in a factory without any IT colleagues or mentors. It was an a-typical situation for someone new to the Company, but the Lord was my Source through it all.

In Tennessee, I learned that my weaknesses are the best platforms for God to teach me about His power. In Judges 7, the Lord commanded Gideon to slash his army down to 300 men before going into battle. It wasn’t about terrifying Gideon – it was about stripping away anything that could suggest that God was not the reason for his victory. These are win-win scenarios - the Lord is glorified and our faith is strengthened in the process.

As soon as I started to build my network, understand supply chain IT and become comfortable in my new city… it was time to do it all over again. One rotation down - three left to go. I packed the few remaining valuables from my apartment in my Honda accord and headed to my second rotation in Houston, TX. The autumn leaves had fallen, but a new season was on the way. Bundle up – winter is coming.

5 notes · View notes

hamilficsfordays · 8 years ago

Text

Yes to Abort, No to Miscarry (Lin/Reader/Vanessa)

Prompt: This is based on a very personal, painful experience that I suffered through relatively recently. Thanks to @secretschuylersister for reading and taking time to listen. I’m so grateful.

Author’s Note: It took a lot of courage to even consider posting this. If you’re reading this and thinking: “Man, this girl could really use a hug.” You’re right.

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda/Reader/Vanessa Nadal (polygamy)

Summary: An unexpected pregnancy shakes things up in your new relationship. You agree to end it, but you might not get a chance.

Rating: T for language and sensitive subjects.

Warnings: I was originally going to end this with a threesome, but I figured I didn’t need to share everything. We’ll cross that bridge another day.

Words: 5527

Tags:

@huffleheyguys

Askbox / Masterlist / What I Write

It hit you rather surprisingly.

There was a chuckle from the crowd as Lin went back and forth about his writing process with Andrew Lloyd Webber. You were sat next to Vanessa in the audience and managed to chuckle until a sharp pain in your lower abdomen caught you by surprise.

You sucked in a breath, shocked by the sensation and told yourself not to be concerned. You’d been in London since Thursday morning, flying in from New York for the long weekend to visit Lin and Vanessa. What was once a long-standing friendship between the three of you had eventually evolved into a (not quite defined) polygamous relationship.

Your undefined relationship began overseas, with them in London as Lin worked on Mary Poppins Returns. You had agreed to wait until they returned to the states in June to act on anything, but waiting proved to be difficult. Lin insisted on buying you a round trip ticket to come visit. After some hesitation, you agreed.

While it was rewarding to spend days on set with him among a host of talented actors and to spend time with his family, you couldn’t deny that your favorite parts were the more personal, erotic moments.

Once in his dressing room at work, and a few times in the guest room they had you staying in at home. You couldn’t get enough of each other.

That was a month ago.

When you had arrived for a second time on Thursday, V seemed immediately suspicious of what you claimed were “side effects of your birth control”. Nausea, vomiting, fatigue and frequent urination were hard to ignore, especially having been pregnant only a few years before. She left for work that morning and came back that evening with a pregnancy test.

“I got you a gift.” she had started, catching you off guard as you were headed into the bathroom for the umpteenth time that day.

“Oh…” you took the small plastic bag from her, feeling a cardboard box inside. “V, you didn’t have to get me any…”

Your voice trailed off as you pulled the box out. It was a pregnancy test, something you’d been avoiding despite obvious symptoms and friendly advice for at least a week.

“I don’t think I need this,” you tried.

“Just take it.” she insisted, with a small smile. “What could it hurt?”

“Vanessa, I’m not pregnant. It’s probably just my hormones acting up from my birth control—”

“Prove me wrong.” she interrupted. “Take the test. If you aren’t pregnant, we can pretend this never happened.”

You knew if you refused that she would only continue to insist. You sighed, taking the test into the bathroom with you.

It all led up to Sunday night. There you sat, knowingly pregnant with the father of your child onstage.

You had plans to fly home the next day and schedule an appointment to have an abortion performed. There were a lot of things you needed (a better paying job, a bigger apartment, the ability to be a stronger writer), but a baby was not one of them.

Once the cramps started, they wouldn’t stop. You were sure you had read somewhere that cramping in the early stages of pregnancy was normal. You’d experienced it once or twice before, but it was never this bad.

Your physical discomfort was hard not to notice. Beside you, Vanessa was well aware of your sudden change in demeanor.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” you lied.

The interview was nearly over. As the interviewer asked for one final question, you felt slightly relieved knowing you would be on your way home soon.

When the event came to an end, a fair amount of audience members headed out. Others (a number of writers and performers that you weren’t familiar with) stayed behind.

The look on Lin’s face as some of the writers began to approach made you feel less confident about being able to leave right away.

He seemed ecstatic; eager to speak to each of them.

You tried to stay strong—you didn’t want to ruin the night for him—but your abdominal cramps were getting stronger and would not be deterred.

He was mid conversation alongside Andrew Lloyd Webber and another person you didn’t recognize. You tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to you, politely excusing himself from the other conversation.

“What’s up?”

“I’m really sorry for interrupting—” you started.

“Hey, don’t apologize. It’s no big deal. Are you okay?” he seemed to notice you looked somewhat distressed.

“I uh�� I’m not feeling too well. I’m gonna catch a cab back to your place.”

“A cab? No, I’ll have the car brought around. V and I can come with you—” he offered.

“Lin, no, seriously you should stay. I’m fine. I’ll just take a hot shower. Besides I’ve never seen you so excited to talk to a group of white people I don’t recognize.”

He chuckled. “You’re sure you’re fine on your own?”

You nodded, putting on your best reassuring face. “I’m good.”

Because you were only visiting, you didn’t exactly have any British currency on you. Lin pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them to you, assuring you’d get home safely.

He glanced around briefly to make sure no one was looking before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Get home safe.”

You hailed a cab outside the theatre and gave the driver the right address. It wasn’t a long drive, but it felt like an eternity. You were curled up in the back seat wincing in pain as your cramps pressed on. You could see the driver glancing at you in the rearview mirror as though he was concerned for you, but still, he said nothing and took you home.

You rushed as fast as you could inside and to the bathroom, past the babysitter who was quietly reading a book on the couch. Once the door was shut, you tore your clothes off and sprinted into the shower—pausing under the searing hot water. The relief was only moderate, not quite what you expected. You tried moving the showerhead so that the water landed directly on your abdomen, but that wasn’t relieving either.

The cramps were getting worse by the minute. The hot water was only irritating your skin, so you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

The cold tile floor felt nice on the bottom of your feet. You resorted to lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position. You took deep breaths, closed your eyes, and tried to focus on anything but the pain.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you opened your eyes again. You thought you’d heard a noise from outside the bathroom but you didn’t have the strength to get up and check. You shifted your legs slightly, feeling a warm, sticky sensation on your thigh that caught you by surprise. You opened your eyes and slowly sat up to find blood pooled around your legs.

The sight of so much blood shook you. You glanced across the room at your pants, sat on the floor where you’d pulled them off before stepping into the shower. There was a small blood stain in the fabric that you hadn’t noticed until now.

You knew what this meant. The abdominal cramping, the bleeding… it wasn’t hard to guess.

It was only a few days ago that you considered the option of having an abortion and were relieved to hear Lin and Vanessa agree.

You didn’t need a child right now. You didn’t have the time or the money to take care of one, nor did you even want to—at least not for another decade if at all. Still, there you sat on the bathroom floor in a pool of your own blood bursting into tears.

A knock at the door halted your thoughts.

“Y/N?” you heard Vanessa call out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine—” your voice cracked, revealing your emotional state.

“It’s been two hours, Y/N.” Lin pointed out. “Have you been in the bathroom this whole time?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, more firmly. “I just need to be alone right now.”

You tried to stand up and grab a towel from the rack on the wall but slipped. You were mostly covered in blood, hardly able to get up off of the floor. The pain had only gotten worse over time. There was another knock at the door. You shouted back that you were fine, that you didn’t need help though it wasn’t true.

The sound of a key unlocking the door forced you to poorly cover yourself up with your hands, leaning against the cabinet underneath the sink.

The door opened slowly, revealing the two of them shocked, standing in the doorway.

“There's so much blood. There’s so much blood. I can’t—” you managed. Your emotions rushed to the surface again, forcing you into tears.

Lin kneeled by your side, doing his best to comfort you. Though you felt slightly calmer beside him, even he couldn’t stop you from nearly hyperventilating.

“I can’t hold a job for more than a year, I can finish my degree, I can’t even keep a baby that I don’t want.” you finally said. “What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” he insisted, wiping the tears off of your face. “This isn’t your fault.”

You took his hand in yours, squeezing it as you struggled through the abdominal pain.

“I think I need to go to a hospital.” you managed, breathing heavily. “I need to see a doctor.”

They called for an ambulance and managed to clean you up and get clothes on you before EMS arrived. Though it was after 11 and he knowingly had to be up at 6:30 for work the next day, Lin insisted on going with you. Vanessa stayed home with Sebastian while he rode with you in the ambulance to the hospital.

Every bump in the road or hard turn was excruciating. Lin struggled to see you in so much pain. He held your hand through the whole thing, attempting to be supportive as he couldn’t do much else.

When you arrived, the doctor asked for both a blood and urine sample both to make sure that you were pregnant and to see what was causing the complications.

A tall male nurse offered you ibuprofen which you refused, despite still dealing with significant cramping. You had an allergy—or rather, a sensitivity to it. It was never an issue as you only experienced menstrual cramps maybe once in your life. Now, however, it seemed like a more pressing issue.

A few hours passed waiting for the results. The ER seemed particularly busy that evening. It was almost two in the morning and Lin was still by your side, though you felt a little guilty about messing with his schedule.

“You should go home.” you insisted. “You have to be up in a few hours.”

“I’m not leaving you.” he took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m here for you, Y/N. No matter what.”

You squeezed his hand, mostly because you were grateful for the support but also because you were still in pain.

After a few more minutes your doctor returned.

“Sorry to keep you both waiting.” Dr. Warring started, moving to your bedside. Her accent was somewhat comforting, if only because you weren’t used to it. She was dressed rather glamorously for a doctor, wearing an expensive looking dress and heels.

“Your HCG levels were higher than average but not as high as they would be during a typical pregnancy at this stage. It’s likely at this point given the heavy bleeding and cramping that you’re having a miscarriage.”

Your first reaction was to glance at Lin, who already seemed to be gauging your reaction.

You knew how you felt about having children and you were sure he felt the same way. Much like in the bathroom, however, you were feeling surprisingly emotional.

“Y/N, you said you were okay if you didn’t have this baby, right?” Lin did his best to reassure you. “We all agreed it would be best if you had it taken care of—”

“I know, so why the fuck am I so upset?” you managed, quickly wiping a tear away.

“We typically see this in women who had an unexpected miscarriage when they didn’t even realize they were pregnant because they weren’t able to make a decision for themselves.” Dr. Warring pointed out. “It can be emotionally taxing.”

“Yeah, I um…” you struggled to find the right words. “I guess.”

“If you have bleeding that soaks more than two maxi pads an hour for two hours or a fever greater than one-hundred and two, you should come back. Otherwise, it may take some time for this to pass. It really is different for everyone. You may experience cramping similar to early labor pain over the next several days.”

“Several days?” you repeated, hoping you misheard.

“Possibly,” she confirmed. “I’ll discharge you and you guys can go home.”

You and Lin took a cab home, where you slowly changed into comfortable clothes and curled up in bed. He brought you a bottle of hot water wrapped in a towel to attempt to stop the cramping. You tried to sleep beside him, but your symptoms made sleep nearly impossible.

Instead, you lied there, sweating bullets, clutching your abdomen while in the fetal position and tried to breathe through the pain.

It went on for hours. Things started to secede around six thirty when everyone else in the house was getting up. You got up, still a sweaty mess, and managed to slowly sip a cold bottle of water. You had virtually no appetite, so you made no attempt to eat anything though you knew you probably should have.

Knowing you’d likely be uncomfortable, Lin and Vanessa invited back Else, a middle-aged babysitter who they usually asked to look after Sebastian since their arrival in the UK.

“She’s also a postpartum doula,” Vanessa explained to you that morning.

“She’ll be really helpful to you through all of this—at least while Lin and I are at work.”

You were sitting on the couch in the living room while Vanessa talked to you from the kitchen. There was a faint sound of a car honking outside the house; Lin’s ride to work had arrived.

He went to the kitchen first, kissing both Vanessa and Sebastian goodbye. He headed to the living room, softly kissing your forehead before leaning down to kiss your lips.

“Feel better, Y/N. I love you.”

Else arrived a few minutes after Lin had left. She was kind hearted, a comforting persona while your significant others were gone.

She told you it was possible your pain would return. Sure enough, it did. After about an hour of sipping water and keeping Sebastian mildly entertained, you were nearly doubled over in pain. You slowly trekked back to your room and crawled into bed, assuming the fetal position. Else came in with a cool, damp washcloth which she placed over your forehead and a heating pad to hold over your abdomen. You barely mustered a “thank you” though you were incredibly grateful.

The pattern continued. Six to eight hours of horrendous cramps and an hour or two of peace to drink water and compose yourself.

Sebastian seemed confused as to why you didn’t want to play with him, which Else carefully tried to distract him from.

By the time Vanessa got home, you were exhausted. She gratefully thanked Else for her services, paid her for the day and stepped in, assuming her role. After beginning to prepare dinner for Sebastian, she headed to your room to check on you.

You were nearing the end of eight hours and your pain was fading. She helped you out of the room and into the living room, where she brought you another bottle of water and offered you food. Though you refused, she brought you something anyway.

“You can’t just stop eating. That’s gonna make all of this suck a little more. Eat something.”

Lin came home at his usual time. You did your best to not take up their time and let them be parents while their son was still awake. When Sebastian had gone to sleep, they turned their focus to you.

You were in Lin’s arms, leaning against him on the couch. The TV was on, an episode of House of Cards, while Vanessa sat on the other end of the room scrolling on her phone.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair. “Drained,” you admitting, wiping more sweat from your forehead. “Exhausted, but if this keeps up I won’t be able to sleep tonight anyway.”

“You should try,” Vanessa suggested. “At least now, when it isn’t that bad. Maybe you’ll get an hour or two.”

You agreed and slowly headed down the hall to your bedroom. With the door cracked open, you could still hear Lin and Vanessa from the living room. You didn’t think much of it until you settled into your usual fetal position and paid more attention.

“This is all my fault.” you heard Lin say.

“It’s not.” V insisted. “Honestly, it’s her doctor’s fault for not inserting her birth control properly.”

“We could’ve used a condom. I could’ve been more careful.”

“You had no idea her birth control would fail. Neither did she. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

He sighed. “It’s just so hard seeing her suffer like this. I felt so guilty being at work today instead of being at home taking care of her.”

“We left her in good hands.” she reminded him. “This won’t last forever. She’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

There was a pain in your abdomen that wasn’t cramping. You felt guilt if anything. Lin was blaming himself for something was entirely your fault.

You couldn’t shake the feeling even as he crawled into bed with you that night. You pretended to be asleep to avoid confrontation. Instead, you curled up against him. It was all you could do to express how much you valued having him around. It was the only way you could reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

The pain kept on all through Tuesday. By Wednesday, you were more frustrated than anything. You wanted it to be over, desperately.

As the afternoon rolled around, you noticed a change in your usual routine.

The pain didn’t last for hours, instead only a few seconds at a time before vanishing for an hour or so.

When Vanessa came home around five, you updated both her and Else on your change in condition.

“Sounds like you’re having contractions.” Else pointed out. “Hopefully that means this is over soon.”

Though they weren’t nearly as painful as the contraction of someone who was actually pregnant, they kept a consistent pace. By the time Lin had gotten home your pain was a few minutes apart. An end was in sight, and you had numerous amounts support to help get you through it.

Finally, it was over. The small remnants of the baby that once was had left your body along with copious amounts of blood. Though you couldn’t actually see it (it was no larger than a poppy seed at only four weeks), your contractions had reached a peak and subsided entirely, which likely meant it was gone.

The sanitary pad you were using was carefully tied up in a small plastic bag, sitting at the top of a half empty garbage can in the bathroom.

“Say what you have to say,” V suggested, catching you off-guard.

“What?”

“Else says talking to it can help with closure. So talk.”

“I… you want me to talk to it?”

“How else do you expect to begin to recover emotionally?” she pointed out.

Though what she said kind of made sense, it was still an odd concept.

“Well… what about Lin?”

“Lin’s body didn’t put him through hell for three days trying to get rid of it. You need closure.”

You stared down at the trash. The bag was white so you couldn’t see what was inside but you knew it was there.

“You were…” you paused, trying to think of the right words. “You were conceived here—well actually you were conceived in Lin’s dressing room but it was definitely on this continent—so it’s only fair that your time ended here… I guess.”

Vanessa waited patiently for you to continue.

“It was better that it ended now, this way. Trump is president. You would’ve deserved better than that.”

You could see V trying not to giggle at your comment and take it seriously. You appreciated that she found it funny but chose not to laugh out of respect to you.

“I guess that’s it.”

“You’re sure?”

You nodded slowly. She pulled the lining from the trash can, tying it together in a knot at the top.

“I’ll bring this outside.”

That night was the first night you’d slept in a long time. You ended up in their bed between the two of them. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable experience, but having them sleep on either side of you felt surprisingly supportive. Considering how exhausted you were, you slept through the night.

At seven they were up, accidentally waking you with their hushed conversation as Lin was getting ready to leave. They must’ve seen you stirring awake because they were immediately apologetic.

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“We were just talking about how I’d stay behind today,” Vanessa added. “I figured you could use a familiar face around the house.”

“Oh no, V, you should go to work.” you insisted half-heartedly.

“Too late, I’m staying.”

“I wish I could do the same.” Lin pointed out, shortly followed by the sound of a car honking outside; his usual ride to work had arrived.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N.” he kissed you briefly before heading out of the room.

“You can go back to sleep if you want.” you heard her insist.

Though you wanted to be polite and protest, you were still really tired. You nodded slowly, turning over and falling asleep a few minutes later.

When you did finally get up, it was eleven according to the clock on the bedside table. You felt kind of guilty for sleeping through the day, but your exhaustion had faded nonetheless.

When you had showered and changed, V suggested a trip to the park. It was only a few blocks from their house and would get you out of the house for the first time since Sunday while keeping Sebastian entertained.

It wasn’t until you’d stepped outside with them that you realized how long it had been since you’d gone outside; felt the cool air against your skin and the warm sun on your face.

Sat on a bench in the park while V kept a close eye on her son, you kept waiting for the sun to make you feel better. You knew sunlight was supposed to make people feel happier—especially after they hadn’t seen it in a while—but you didn’t feel any better.

“Are you okay?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Why do I feel terrible even though I’m not in any pain?” you asked, kind of hoping she had the perfect answer.

“It happens.” was all she said.

“I overheard you guys the other night,” you confessed. “Lin thinks this is his fault, but it’s not. It’s mine.”

“It’s not either of your faults. You can’t blame yourself for this, it was entirely out of your control.”

“I feel so ashamed.” There were tears welling up in your eyes that you tried to fight. “I feel embarrassed. I was going to get rid of it and I couldn’t even keep it long enough to do that. I couldn’t even reproduce without complications. I didn’t even want to, and I couldn’t. Doesn’t that make me like, a failing part of the human race or something?”

“It makes you human.” She put her arm around you. “Millions of people have had miscarriages and gone on to have children with no complications. You’re not at fault for anything, and you're not any less of a person because of it.”

“Then why does it feel like I am? Why can’t I stop blaming myself for this?”

“You need to stop overthinking.” she took your hand. “I know how to help.”

Later that day when Lin had arrived home from work and Sebastian was asleep for the night, Vanessa headed to the kitchen, where you watched her open a cabinet and reach toward the back of the top shelf. She struggled for a bit but managed to grab one of the small vials stored there.

“Are you sure about this, V?” Lin tried to deter her. “Maybe we could try something different.”

“Why?” she paused.

“I don’t know I…” he glanced at you as if he was desperate to protect you. “I don’t wanna corrupt her.”

Vanessa giggled at the concept. “Oh come on, Lin. You think this is going to corrupt her? She’s an adult. Besides, if it works for you, why can’t it work for her?”

She turned to you then.

“Here,” she removed the cap, revealing a dropper full of tinted green liquid. “Open your mouth, lift your tongue.”

“Wait, what?” you took a step back. “What is that?”

“Just trust me.”

After a moment of hesitation, you did what she asked. The liquid didn’t taste like anything you were familiar with.

“It’s a cannabis tincture.” she finally admitted.

“Ca—that’s pot?”

“That’s why we keep it so high, so Sebastian doesn’t have any way of accidentally finding it.” she stored the vial safely back on the top shelf before closing the cabinet.

“Why did you give me that?”

“You’ll understand in a few hours.” she insisted. “You just have to trust me. It’s not a hallucinogen.”

After fifteen minutes or so, the effects what she’d given you had begun to arrive. You felt calmer, more content, and less anxious. It was the first time since Sunday that you didn’t feel entirely hopeless.

Ninety minutes in, you felt more relaxed than you’d ever been before. You were curled up on the couch beside Lin, watching the TV though you weren’t entirely sure what was on.

“I didn’t even know you could use marijuana like this,” you spoke slowly, glancing at Vanessa who was on her laptop on the other end of the couch. “This shit is fantaaaaastic. How did you even know about this?”

“You’re asking how V, chemical engineer extraordinaire, knew about this?” he teased.

“He’s exaggerating, I found it online. We used to smoke it normally, but then we stopped after I got pregnant, and once Sebastian came along we had to find another method because smoke inhalation was dangerous around the baby. So I did some research and found this. It takes a little work but you can make it in batches and it lasts a really long time, so it works.”

“How come you guys never told me about this before?”

“It’s not really something to talk about,” he reassured you. “We don’t use it all that often.”

“Just after a particularly stressful day,” Vanessa added. “Or when either of us has trouble sleeping.”

“I only really use it when my mind is racing. Too many thoughts, too many ideas all at once. It just helps to slow things down. Which I assume is why V thought it would be good for you.”

She nodded. “You’re doing much better than you were before at the park.”

You sat up, stretching your arms a bit. “I just feel like I can breathe.”

You turned to Lin, who seemed content that you were feeling better and slightly amused by your persona under the influence. “I know you thought it was your fault,” you started. “All this. But it wasn’t.”

“Y/N—” he tried, likely wanting to avoid a difficult conversation.

“No, I need to talk now. You talk a lot, Lin. I don’t know if you knew that, but you talk a lot. It’s my turn to talk.”

He chuckled. “Okay.”

“You thought it was your fault but it wasn’t. I kind of thought it was my fault. I’m pretty sure I’m still going to feel really ashamed and guilty when all of this is over, and I’m not really sure why. But I have to realize that this was out of my control. It was out of all of our control, and it’s going to take me some time to see that. That it was out of my control I mean.”

Lin smiled. “Well said.”

Though your emotional state seemed to improve with time, you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You knew you’d have to go home eventually and go back to work, pay rent and live with your shitty roommates, and maintain your responsibilities.

On Saturday, Lin willingly deleted twitter from his phone in order to dedicate all of his free time to you. You knew he meant well, but you couldn’t shake the guilt that came from seeing them try so hard to make you feel better.

Though you didn’t exactly feel ready, on Saturday night you proposed going home on Monday to both of them.

“Are you sure?” Lin seemed hesitant to let you go both from the country and from his arm, which around your waist as you spoke.

“I mean I feel better physically, I’ve even stopped bleeding. I just… I need to go home and be an adult.”

“You think you’ll be okay by yourself?” Vanessa pressed.

“I’ll admit it won’t be easy not having you guys as a support system for a while, but you’ll be back in June. Honestly, the only reason I improved as much as I did is because I was here with you in the first place. If I was home alone… I don't know what I would’ve done.”

“Okay well…” Lin sighed but seemed sure about respecting your decision. “I’ll buy you a plane ticket.”

On Monday morning, there was a cab waiting outside to take you to the airport. You were still prepared to second guess your decision as Lin helped you with your suitcase.

“Call us if you need anything, okay? Day or night.” Vanessa followed you out to the curb, Sebastian in hand. “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning here. Call us.”

“I will.” you assured her. “I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Lin asked, for the hundredth time. “You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. We’d be happy to have you.”

“I can’t leave my job in the states.” you pointed out. “I have to be strong. If you ask me again I’m going to change my mind.”

With that, he pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. “I love you. Please stay in touch. We’ll be home soon.”

“I will.” you hugged as tight as you could, trying to hold on to the memory as long as you could. It would be awhile before you saw him again. In person, anyway.

You hugged Vanessa as well.

“I slipped a cannabis tincture into your suitcase,” she whispered. “If you need it.”

You kissed her cheek as you pulled away. “Thank you.”

As your cab pulled away with you in the backseat, you felt it sink in. The fear, the uncertainty, the loneliness that you were forced to face on your own. Suddenly you realized you weren’t ready to go back at all. Still, you forced yourself to go anyway.

You’d already faced hell that week. Surely it couldn’t get any worse.

Even if it did, support was only an ocean away.

#hamwriters #lin x vanessa #lin x reader #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda x reader #vanessa nadal x reader #lin x reader x vanessa #hamilcast imagines #imagines blog #hamilcast fanfiction

61 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 8 years ago

Text

Just Tonight #4 (Shalaska) - BABE

A/N: Sorry for this taking so long, I’ve been hella busy but enjoy this chapter! Thanks so much for the lovely comments, tbh I’m kinda addicted to writing this so this might go on for a while xx

Alaska couldn’t contain her grin when she snuck into her dorm room that evening, clutching her messed up clothes in her hands. She was still wearing the Ramones tee-shirt (which was drenched in Sharon’s scent and dove her headfirst into her memories all over again) but had traded her short skirt and heels for a pair of high waisted shorts and sneakers that Sharon had lying around. The blonde didn’t want to ask where they had come from but Sharon had assured her that they belonged to her best friend’s girlfriend (Ivy, she said her name was) and that filled Alaska with relief. After she had woken up and made them both breakfast, Alaska had realised that she had missed half her classes. The anxiety in her pooled up until Sharon’s calm reassurance helped it to dissipate, the two girls spending the day in front of the television. Hours slipped away until Alaska went to check the time (7:53, the cracked screen of her iPhone read), only to discover the thousands of messages that Alaska and Katya had left in their group chat.

Adore:

alaska, you there?

srsly bitch, where tf are you?

Katya:

adore stfu

she’s probably busy ;)

adore:

Like you were with barbie?

Katya:

…

Adore:

that’s what I thought bitch

anyways lask when you get this, come back n pick up some vodka

pearl + her bitches r coming over

have fun ;))))

When reading the messages, Alaska had turned beet red, Sharon reading the messages over her shoulder and laughing her head off.

“Your friends are something,” Sharon said between chuckles, Alaska trying to control her blush.

“Shut up,” she murmured as Sharon pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“You’re cute when you blush.”

That only made Alaska blush more.

An hour, and a couple of borrowed garments, later, Alaska was turning the key in her dorm door’s lock, a bottle of vodka that Sharon had given her shoved into her purse. She heard whispers from behind the door (plus normal volume talking from Adore since she only spoke in yells) and when the door finally opened, the group burst into applause. Adore and Pearl sat on the floor (obviously smoking a joint, what else would they be doing?) of their room while Katya lounged on Adore’s bed (the Barbie from the party sat at her feet) and Violet and another girl (Fame?) perched awkwardly on their beanbags. Both girls were dressed in clothes that probably are worth more than Alaska’s student loans and it made Alaska weep internally.

“What up bitch?” Adore exclaimed, a common greeting from the brunette. “How was your kinky little encounter?”

“That’s none of your business!” Alaska countered, a huge goofy grin on her face. She leaned down and kissed Adore on the forehead before passing the vodka to Katya. The Russian cheered and hugged Alaska tightly. “Don’t thank me, thank Sharon,” Alaska whispered in her ear, causing Katya to chuckle. “Now, offer some to Trixie.” That caused Katya to turn red at the idea as Alaska politely said hello to Pearl, Trixie and Violet. Pearl winked, raising a lazy hand, Trixie grinned, her eyes flickering to Katya and Violet, now that she had her safety net around, offered a small smile and a wave.

“I’m Fame, it’s nice to meet you,” the unknown girl said as Alaska grinned at her.

“Now,” Adore started, obviously stoned out of her mind. “What the fuck went down with you and the sexy lead singer?”

“I tied her up and fucked her till she was sore,” Alaska deadpanned, the other girls laughing. She didn’t feel like discussing how exactly Sharon made her feel in front of a bunch of people she didn’t know. Adore and Katya were like her ride or dies, but the other girls were still foreign to her. She didn’t want to declare her feelings only to be mocked. “I’ve got a paper due soon so I might head out to the library if you guys are having a party.”

“It’s closed, remember?” Adore stated in a matter-of-fact way. “They had to start shutting it at night because people were breaking in and smoking bongs between the shelves.”

“Like you’ve ever been in the library, Delano.”

“I definitely have,” Adore smirked, inhaling her joint.

“Maybe because Del Rio’s office is next door!” Katya exclaimed, causing Adore to choke on the smoke that she knew how to take so well.

Alaska laughed as she plopped down onto her bed, the conversation about Adore fucking the art history professor swirling around her. The only thing that mattered was the text that popped up on her screen.

Sharon:

Miss you already xx

The blonde’s heart raced, a goofy grin on her face as she had a lightbulb moment. In a frenzy, she threw a change of clothes into a bag along with her laptop and textbook. She paused for a moment, texting Sharon back.

Alaska:

Is it okay if I come over? I really need to study and Adore is hosting a dinner party kms :p

The reply was almost instant as Alaska finished putting her things into her bag.

Sharon:

Sure thing, princess. Jinkx and Ivy are here but we’ll be quiet. See you soon x

With that, Alaska swung her bag over her shoulder and left, calling “Later bitches,” out the door.

“Use protection!” Adore called back, Alaska chuckling as she shut her door completely.

Now she could finally concentrate.

———-

In record time (and with help from her GPS since she actually didn’t know the way there, last night’s alcohol abuse was the cause of that), Adore’s beat up old car that Alaska drove as she pleased was in the parking lot of Sharon’s apartment. For once, she was kind of relieved to be away from her dorm room, even though she loved Adore and partook in her antics she really needed to finish this paper, her inner perfectionist freaked out if an assignment wasn’t started a week before it was due. Plus, she really wanted to meet Sharon’s friends. It was a surreal feeling, like everything was happening so fast for Alaska. She wasn’t known to be quick to trust but she trusted Sharon easily, her usual second guessing self plunging in with naivety.

As she walked to the apartment, bag under her arm, Alaska had realised that she hadn’t even had time to change from her borrowed clothes in her frenzy to leave. Her unbrushed hair was piled on top of her head and her eyelashes were still caked with mascara from the night before. It was an embarrassing way to meet Sharon’s close friends (especially since the clothes she was wearing actually belonged to one of the friends) but hopefully she could pull it off, pretend it was ‘punk rock’ or something. Making it to the door, her petite hand knocking on the wood, her face spread into a grin in anticipation to see Sharon. It had only bee an few hours, but there was something about her that couldn’t keep her away.

The door swung open, revealing a slightly neater Sharon, one that at least had time to comb out her sex hair and redo her makeup. Nonetheless, her eyes were still bright with mischief and her mouth was spread into a similar grin as she stepped for to embrace the girl.

“Hi princess,” she murmured, kissing the younger girl’s forehead. Alaska kind of expected there to be a black lipstick stain left there but she couldn’t tell. “Come meet the crew.”

Alaska was lead into the familiar living room where two unfamiliar girls sat on the couch. One had curly red hair that didn’t just look teased but pissed off, her big brown eyes staring up at her in wonder, the other’s hair was straight and blonde, red roots peeking out of her scalp. Both of them were dressed eclectically but it all had a kind of cool feel to it, as if they were starting a trend and everyone would be wearing the same things soon. Alaska was instantly jealous, her own style feeling so mainstream in comparison.

“Alaska, this is Jamie, I mean Jinkx,” Sharon corrected as the redhead shot her a look, “Monsoon. She’s our pianist and our spare guitarist.”

“Just in case Sharon here is too occupied with the ladies to play,” Jinkx interjected, her tone light.

“Piss off,” Sharon joked, a chuckle escaping her lips. “And this is Ivy Winters. She’s our bassist plus she keeps everyone looking fabulous.” Ivy grinned, nodding proudly.

“That’s what you get when you have a fashion major lying around, I’m glad you finally put her to good use,” Jinkx smirked, looking at Ivy fondly. She leaned over and kissed the girl’s cheek, causing Ivy to blush.

“So that’s three quarters of Anarchy Rose,” Sharon finished, causing Alaska’s eyes to tear away from the couple and back to the other girl. “Dee would’ve come tonight but she’s out with her prep of a girlfriend.” Sharon rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong with her?” Alaska asked tentatively.

“Nothing, except for the fact that Roxxxy “I’m full of cheerleader pep but I’m also a bitch” Andrews kinda thinks she’s above all of us, it’s fucking annoying.”

Alaska felt awkward replying to that, so instead she changed the subject. “Can I borrow your bathroom for a sec, I kinda look like shit.”

“Nonsense, you look beautiful,” Sharon mused, Alaska blushing in reply. “But of course, you know where it is.” She winked, lightly slapping Alaska’s ass as she walked towards the familiar room.

The blonde then briskly walked to the bathroom, peeling off Sharon’s shirt when she was safely inside. She had a feeling that not much work was going to be done tonight and Alaska was completely resigned to that fact.

———��

Of course, Alaska was completely right about not doing any work because the moment she stepped out in her baggy Blondie t-shirt that she’d stolen from her mother at least a decade ago and her barely visible pyjama shorts, she flopped down on the couch and refused to get up. Instead, Ivy held a bottle of vodka in her hands and Jinkx had laid four shot glasses on the table. Sharon pulled her close with a grin, her arm snaking around her waist.

“Sorry to interrupt you from your study, but these morons want to play ‘Never Have I Ever’” Sharon said with a roll of her eyes.

“Shut your mouth,” Jinkx countered jokingly. “You might actually enjoy yourself.”

“This might be a short game,” Alaska muttered and Sharon, the only person who heard her, snickered.

“You think you’re so adventurous, Princess?” she smirked.

“I know I am,” Alaska smirked back mischievously. Sharon pulled her in for a passionate kiss, only to be interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

“Lovebirds, pull yourselves apart for two seconds so we can play the game!” Jinkx exclaimed while Ivy poured shots. “Remember, the first to five shots loses, and the loser doesn’t have to do anything because we’re completely unoriginal. Ivy, you start.”

“Alright…. Never have I ever ridden a bike,” the blonde replied as the three other girls did a shot.

“Looks like I’ll have to teach you, darling,” Jinkx replied, kissing the girl’s cheek fondly. “Never have I ever… had blonde hair.” Ivy, Sharon and Alaska all drank, and the game carried on until Ivy had only drank twice, Jinkx thrice and Sharon and Alaska both four times. It was Jinkx’s turn, and she knew exactly what to say.

“Never have I ever… fucked anyone in the bathroom of a warehouse,” she smirked, her eyes firmly planted on the couple sitting across from her. Alaska blushed a deep red while Sharon shrugged.

“That’s oddly specific, I wonder who could’ve done that,” she smirked as the couple clinked their glasses together.

“Now that you two have had your fun,” Sharon continued, mischief in her eyes. “Now it’s time for the real fun, truth or dare anyone?”

#alaska thunderfuck #sharon needles #jinkx monsoon #ivy winters #shalaska #jivy #fluff #just tonight #babe #rpdr fanfiction #submission #lesbian au #just tonight by babe

37 notes · View notes