#I felt this feeling kick in when I wad waiting for the bus to get to school | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelivingmydreams · 4 years ago

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A story by heroes and vilains

Virgil Anker: a chance at change

Changes can be thrust upon you, or made by choice. Virgil has to make a few though decisions this year.

Virgil’s first day of his sophomore year started as a complete disaster. Over the summer his father had started on a ‘project’ he didn’t want to talk about at home. Which was weird. His dad loved talking about work. It was one of the few things that consistently got him excited. Last night he’d worked late, like really late, and Virgil hadn’t been able to bring himself to even go to his room. Instead he sat on the stairs, staring at the front door until his dad came through. After reading that headline that placed the horrible possibility of his father’s secret in his head he’d stopped searching. He’d bolted out of the library and into the park where he curled up under a tree, hid himself with his powers and proceeded to panic for what he later found out was a good hour. He’d always been a worrier and this discovery gave him so much to worry about. What if his father was Brain Storm? What if he was still a bad guy? What if he wasn’t but someone from his past was blackmailing him? What if he’d lose him when people found out? What if this project was something dangerous and something bad had happened? When his dad came home Virgil did something he hadn’t done since he was ten. He jumped into his father’s arms and hugged him tight. The panic he’d been keeping at bay all night rushing over him all at once. It took his dad a while to calm him down. Then he’d put him to bed with the promise of a serious talk after school. Then, of course, Virgil had overslept. His dad always left very early and usually Virgil was very punctual. But today he got up way too late and had to rush out the door. He barely took the time to shower, not even waiting for the water to get warm or to dry his hair properly. For breakfast he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth after which he rushed to the bus stop praying he’d still magically make it to the last buss that would get him to school on time. He had no such luck. When he finally arrived at school he rushed to get his late slip and thanked the heavens that the secretary seemed to feel enough pity for his sorry state to spare him a lecture and just gave him his schedule and told him the quickest way to his first class. “I hope you like where you are sitting…” The teacher’s voice faded out as he finally arrived in class. She looked at him, clearly not happy with his late arrival. “Ah, so glad you could join us Mr. Anker,” she greeted with a clipped voice. Virgil did his best to ignore the fact that everyone was staring at him. Maybe he should try and figure out if he could use his cloak in reverse and make himself blind to the presence of other people. He pulled his hood off as he muttered an apology and tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye. The teacher pointed to the back of the class. “Take your seat and spare me your excuses. I was just telling the class that these are your seats for the rest of the year,” she then continued addressing the class. “So I hope you like your neighbor, they are your new lab partner.” Virgil felt dread fill his stomach. Great a lab partner. And he got stuck with whoever was left sitting alone. He followed the teacher’s gesture and soon spotted the only empty seat in the second to last row in the back. He felt all tension leave his body as he saw that on the spot next to it sat none other than Roman Castile. Maybe today wouldn’t suck as much as he thought it would. The theater kid gave him a playful smirk and a wave. Virgil smiled back and sat down with a relieved sigh. “Man, talk about a lucky break.” “I agree,” Roman grinned. Before Virgil could say anything else, like ‘hi, how was your summer?’, the teacher started class and she was clearly not someone Virgil wanted to get upset at him. Soon they were given their first experiment. He and Roman were laughing, cracking jokes and throwing out nicknames and mild jabs the entire time and still finished early. Virgil couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach. Roman was cute when he was having a good time. He was so gay for this guy. Trying to look like he was perfectly comfortable with his lack of sleep, breakfast and zero minutes spent with so much as a brush, he leaned back in his chair and looked at Roman curiously. “So how did you end up sitting alone in the back, princey?” There was no way Roman voluntarily hid so far out of sight from everyone else and so far from his usual friend seated in the front row. Roman looked a little awkward at the nickname. “Princey?” he repeated. Virgil rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh come on, you are clearly destined to be prom king senior year. And every king is a prince first,” he teased. Surely he knew that he was the most popular guy of their year? “Fair enough,” Roman allowed with a brief gesture of surrender. “I was last to arrive,” he explained with a shrug. “Simple as that. I didn’t sleep well last night and didn’t get up until my mother kicked me out of bed. She was busy with an order or she would’ve noticed sooner and dad was at the office, so he couldn’t drag me to the breakfast table either.” He made a gesture that seemed to say ‘what can you do?’ “You?” he asked. Virgil couldn’t help but make a face as he thought about the horrible morning he’d had. “Until an hour ago I was convinced the universe just hated me today, let’s leave it at that.” Roman chuckled, but not in a mean way. Then he got this look that Virgil knew meant he was about to be dramatic. “Ah, fate does work in mysterious ways my friend. It must have willed us to team up for this treacherous quest.” ‘How is he this much of a dork? And why do I like that about him?’ Virgil wondered as he laughed at his lab partner’s antics. He just couldn’t help it. Roman just had that effect on him. “Only you can pull of talking like a Shakespeare character,” he told his classmate. A playful light flickered in Roman’s eyes at that. “Well, only you can pull off dressing like a dark knight and still looking like a lost kitten,” he shot back. Virgil forced himself not to show how flustered he felt at being compared to a kitten. Did that mean Roman thought he was cute? And knight? That was a good thing right? Still, he had some kind of reputation he had to uphold. So he gave Roman a playful shove. “You take that back! I am dark and mysterious and intimidating!” Roman didn’t look like he was going to take it back. He looked like he took his protest as a challenge. But then Virgil saw a wad of paper hit his neighbor in the head and Roman’s mood immediately turned sour. Virgil was not far behind. There was only one person he could think of who would provoke the coolest kid in their year like that. Couldn’t Jan let him enjoy himself without him for five minutes? “What gives Bullard?” Roman hissed as they turned around. Virgil hated to see the look on his oldest friend’s face, the sneer, the jealousy. Because it was definitely jealousy that had Janus so worked up about Roman. “You take Smellington next time,” the boy next to Janus flinched in his seat and shot Virgil a pleading look. He recognized him. Virgil had stood up for him to upper classmen several times in the past. “Virgil is sitting with me.” That made Virgil mad like never before. He couldn’t just make decisions about his life like that! “Excuse me?” Roman seethed. “His name is Carlton.” “And you don’t get to say where I sit J,” Virgil added barely keeping his voice down. “I’m fine sitting with Roman. Besides you heard the teacher. No switching seats.” And once again Virgil found himself grateful for something that at first seemed like a bad thing. The teacher might have half a mind to give Virgil detention the second he gave her an excuse, but she also won’t let Janus have his way. Janus was a smooth talker and it got him out of trouble all the time. How Virgil didn’t know for sure, but he was almost certain it wouldn’t work this time around. “We always sit together!” Janus protests, there is a little bit of hurt hidden behind his indignation, but Virgil won’t let it get to him. Not this time. “Exactly. The world won’t end because I’m Roman’s lab partner J.” Really why can’t he have one hour to spend with someone else? “Am I interrupting?” Virgil heard a cold voice from behind him causing him, and the other three students to freeze in shock and turn to face the teacher. She was directing her eyes at Janus. Virgil was right, his friend’s usual tricks would not work this time. “Mr. Bullard, I don’t have you and Mr. Jonson’s assignment yet, which means you can’t be talking with anyone else besides each other right now,” she informed him in a dangerous tone. Two tardy students was clearly already more than she wanted to put up with on the first day of class. Virgil looked back at his friend and watched as Janus gave her his trademark ‘persuasive look’ his voice becoming honey like. Virgil had watched this get him extensions on projects, a better grade on those he had turned in… It was weird, and Virgil almost thought it might be a gift, but Janus would tell him, if no one else. Not to mention it didn’t always work. A gift should be more consistently successful shouldn’t it? “Ma’am, I can’t work with him. Virgil and I never had a problem in projects, can’t we…” “No.” The statement was firm and final and Virgil tried not to show how relieved he felt. “I put Mr. Jonson next to you because you are much too dependent on Mr. Anker’s presence. You won’t always be able to hide behind him Mr. Bullard. You better learn that now. And if I see any more problems here then all that’ll change is that Mr. Castille and Mr. Anker will be moved to the front of the class so you can’t distract them anymore. Is that understood?” Virgil was a bit surprised to hear all this. It seemed like the teacher had forced Janus to let Carlton sit next to him before Virgil or Roman arrived. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with her statement, but he wasn’t going to argue with the result. Virgil shot Carlton a reassuring smile, he’d make sure Janus would behave himself. There was no need for any fallout to affect him.

The teacher left and both he and Roman turned back around in their seats. “Sorry about that.” Virgil had no clue what possessed Roman to say that, but he was not having it. “I should be apologizing. He’s my friend and he was bothering you.” Possibly not for the first time. Why had Roman never mentioned it? “Yeah, but I did something to piss him off… Don’t know what, but he hates me. And if you were my best friend and some dude I hated was being all charming with you, I wouldn’t like it either.” Virgil laughed in relief. He was glad Roman seemed to understand what had Janus so worked up. And while he’d love to protest the ‘he hates me’ bit, he couldn’t. So he focused on getting back to teasing each other and enjoying themselves. “Charming huh? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.” His jab had the desired effect. All conflict and worry left Roman’s face and he returned to his dramatic self. “Oh, my knight, why must you hurt me so?” Virgil laughed and allowed himself to enjoy the way being called his knight made his heart flutter. “Thanks… I needed that. J isn’t so bad, but he can be…” Virgil bit his lip, unsure what to say. “Yeah, not your fault,” Roman assured him before perking up. “Hey, why don’t you two come sit with us over lunch? Maybe if he feels included, he’ll calm down?” he suggested. Virgil’s eyes widened. That would actually be kind of amazing! Half of Janus’ thing was that he thought they were on the ‘outcast’ side of school hierarchy. If they both got into the ‘cool’ group then he could relax and go back to being the Janus Virgil would gladly do anything for. “You sure?” he asked hopefully. “Of course. My friends all think you are cool and they’ll think Janus is cool too, once he gives them a chance.” Virgil really wanted to accept, but a voice in the back of his head pointed out that this was too good to be true. What if Janus was right and he was unknowingly walking them both in a trap where Janus would end up feeling hurt and betrayed and never want to talk to Virgil again, leaving him with a choice between being all alone or following Roman around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of high school? Another, more rational voice pointed out that Roman had never exhibited any behavior that suggested he’d do that. That voice sounded a lot like his dad, and his dad usually made more sense than the bad voice. Still, why would Roman offer to put up with Janus? “You don’t like him. How do you know they will?” “I don’t like how he talks to me,” Roman admitted. Well, that was only fair. Virgil wasn’t very fond of the way Janus talked to people in general the past year either. “But he’s your friend, so how bad can he be?” His endorsement was that valuable? And had Roman mentioned that his other cool friends thought Virgil was cool too? When did that happen? Maybe, maybe sophomore year could be a new start. “Okay, I’ll suggest it.”

He should’ve known better. “Absolutely not!” Janus had huffed. “Jan, it’s just lunch. If it’s not fun then we can bail on them any time. You are the one who’s so obsessed with our spot on the social ladder. What do we have to lose?” Janus rolled his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand this Virgil. But the offer wasn’t for us. Roman wants something from you. And he’ll have his friends be nice to me around you to get it.” “I know I’m not exactly mister sunshine, but that’s overly dramatic and pessimistic. Roman is cool. Like genuinely. And if you gave him a chance…” “Oh please Virgil! You are not this naïve! Why do you want his friendship so badly that you blind yourself like this? He can have anything from anyone he wants! Why would he want to be around some awkward outcasts? Except to make himself look good? What end does that serve? Everything anyone ever does serves some selfish end Virgil. Even the most noble of deeds are ultimately out of desire to be seen as good.” “Except for you of course, you only have my best interest at heart!?” Virgil pointed out. Janus hesitated and then he leaned in, too close for Virgil’s comfort, and he spoke in that tone. “You are my only friend Virgil. Of course I want to protect you, even from yourself. Don’t let Roman’s flowery words and cute pet names get to you.” Virgil tried not to flinch. Did Janus know? No, he couldn’t know. Still, Virgil had to remember that he could hear everything he and Roman said to each other. “I give him a week before he gets bored of you. And I don’t want to see you hurt by that.” And Virgil believed him. So he followed Janus to an empty table in the cafeteria. He saw Roman perk up, smile and wave when he spotted them. And he wanted so badly to just turn to him and go sit with Roman, Janus could either join or eat alone if that made him happy. But he didn’t. He smiled apologetically and shrugged, indicating he tried. The way Roman’s face fell in disappointment made his heart break just a little. He was mad at himself for being so weak. The rest of the day he sulked, not talking to Janus at all, not that his friend seemed to care. He apparently was of the opinion that Virgil would come around soon enough. Virgil wasn’t so sure. The sadness and anger he felt about the whole thing didn’t seem to go away like it usually did.

And then there was the talk with his father. “Home!” he called out as he tossed his keys over the hook at the door. “Kitchen!” his dad called back sounding tense. Virgil took a deep breath and joined his father at the kitchen table, gratefully accepting the cup of tea. “Virgil, I want you to know that you are not in trouble. I am not mad or upset with you in any way. Alright?” Clearly he wasn’t as good at hiding his nerves as he’d hoped. He nodded. “Last night… Was that the first time you went through something like that?” Virgil looked down. He knew he had to be honest with his dad right now… But it wasn’t an easy thing to admit. “No… Sometimes I just think too much and I worry and then I freak out and… It always passes, but it’s…” He feels tears spring up in his eyes. He feels so stupid. Who freaks out over some stupid thoughts? Not his dad. He’s rational and calm and in control. “Frightening I’m sure.” Virgil looked up in surprise at his father’s understanding tone. “Virgil,” he began as he pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards him. “I have a list for you, I’d like you to read over it and indicate next to each item how often you experience them on a monthly basis. It’s important to me that you are honest. I have a suspicion of what may be causing this, but I get that talking about it might be hard for you. Therefor I provided you with this as a way to boil it down to simple facts. Can you do this for me?” Virgil nodded and accepted the paper and pen. He started reading and writing. He tried not to think too much about how bad it was that there were so many things he experienced at least once a week if not several times a day. When he finished, he almost didn’t want to return it to his dad. Would he be disappointed? “It’s alright Virgil. I know I’m not always, good, at expressing my emotions, but I do love you. More than I expected to when I first agreed to take care of you. Nothing could prepare me for how much I love you and how proud I am to call you my son. Whatever you wrote down, won’t change that.” Virgil took in a deep breath and shoved the paper forward. There it was gone. Silence lingered for a moment as his father read the paper and nodded to himself. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with this on your own Virgil. Can I ask for how long?” Virgil frowned and thought about that. “Um… start of last school year? I didn’t notice it was bad until shortly after Christmas though. I was in the park and started freaking out. After that I was more aware of it I guess,” he explained. His father simply nodded. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?” he asked worriedly. Because the first time I freaked out it was because I thought you might be a former super villain and I didn’t know how to even begin explaining that. “I… I wanted to… but then I started freaking out about freaking you out and…” he forced himself to take a slow breath and a sip of his tea. “I just figured I could deal.” Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Virgil, I think you might suffer from heightened levels of anxiety. That doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you. I would like for you to talk to someone about it though. If only to help you figure out a way to handle these attacks and the thoughts that come with this better so it doesn’t have to interfere too much with your life. Does that sound agreeable?” “A shrink?” Virgil asked nervously. His dad nodded. “I know there is a stigma against it… But my psychiatrist has helped me a great deal with your mother’s death. I hope he, or one of his colleagues can help you with your anxiety.” This came as a surprise. “You… you went to therapy?” He always seemed to be so in control of his life though. “Still do from time to time,” his dad nods simply. Virgil thinks about it for a moment. Well, it couldn’t hurt to see what whoever this doctor was had to say right? If he has his dad’s approval… “Okay… just… can this stay between you and me?” he pleaded. He wasn’t sure how Janus would respond to him having anxiety. Knowing him he’d probably become even more protective and he didn’t need that in his life. His dad nodded in understanding. “If that makes you more comfortable.” “Thanks,” Virgil smiled. Then he finished his tea and excused himself to make homework. His dad got him a first appointment for the start of October.

Things didn’t change much for him in that time honestly. Roman grabbed every opportunity to talk to Virgil and tried to coax him into conversation. And he would love to just throw caution to the wind and enjoy the hour they shared as well as the stolen moments where they ‘ran into each other’ or where they defended the same kid. But, he just couldn’t do it. The doctor was a unique individual. Virgil wasn’t sure how well they’d get along at first. “Now, Virgil, I can call you Virgil right?” Picani asked kindly. He was nice, but also… extra. Even Roman might think he was a bit too intense. “Sure,” he mumbled in response, toeing of his shoes and curling up in a ball on the couch. He didn’t miss the fact that Picani took note of that. “Well, I’ve heard why your father thinks you should be here, but what I’d like to know, Virgil, is why you want to be here. Are you just looking for some medication, some breathing techniques or are there some things you actually want to talk about?” Virgil looked at the doctor long and hard to see what his angle was. He couldn’t find one. And it was a good question. What was he doing here if there was so much he couldn’t share? He shrugged. “Not sure… I know my dad wants to help. But…” Picani made a dismissive gesture. “Your father isn’t my patient right now. You should only come here if it’s something you want. Your dad will just have to learn from Jazz Fenton’s example,” Picani smirked. Virgil chuckled. “Well, he’s a lot like her, he just might.” “Oh?” Picani’s eyes lit up. Virgil didn’t know this but it wasn’t often that his patients saw the show he was referencing and indulged in the analogy. “You know, not as serious as he likes to believe he is. Well-meaning and levelheaded most of the time… supportive of his loved ones… but he could maybe be a bit more accepting and patient I guess.” “I was indeed getting at the patient part. Jazz did a great job waiting for her brother to be ready to ask her for help and offered him aid from the sidelines. Protecting him from their parents’ antics in the process.” “But she still thought she knew better than him and while she accepted his powers she didn’t get him until they actually sat down and talked,” Virgil countered. Picani cocked his head curiously. “I mean… I’m bi, and my dad is very accepting of that. And he tries to encourage me when I do art, even if he doesn’t really get it. But… I feel like he expects me to tell him everything, but he’s hiding so much… this is between you and me right?” He was pretty sure that was a rule, but he preferred to check. “Until you give me the ok, your secrets are locked up in here,” the doctor tapped his head and then his notebook, “Safer than in a secret vault.” Virgil smirked. “Figured you’d be a potterhead too. Huffelpuf I assume?”Picani nodded proudly. “But we’re getting of track. You were saying?” Virgil sighed once more. “Right. You probably know that I’m adopted?” he verified. “That was in your paperwork, but I wasn’t going to bring it up unprompted,” the doctor acknowledged calmly. “Well… I’ve come to terms with that, really, I’m not ashamed or anything. But I know nothing about my birth parents. I ask about them, and Lo… dad,” he hates it, but sometimes his father’s surname slips into his mind, especially when he thinks about his birthparents. Never in front of him, but still, he finds himself thinking it more and more often. And he feel really bad about it. “You can address him however you’re comfortable Virgil. I won’t say a word.” Virgil nodded. “Logan won’t tell me anything. I don’t have any pictures or their names and I know he knew them. I want to understand that it’s hard for him for whatever reason. But I want to know where I come from.” Picani nodded calmly. “And this secrecy… could that be what brings out some of the anxiety you’ve been experiencing?” Virgil nodded. “It’s not the only thing though,” he admitted and before he knew it, he told Picani all about how things had changed between him and Janus and the feelings he was developing for Roman who was completely out of his league. Picani was understanding and careful about how he addressed the Janus situation. He did encourage him to accept Roman’s attempts to reach out to him.

Virgil agreed to make another appointment with the doctor and he really wanted to make an effort with Roman. But he was much too scared of being rejected when Roman inevitably found out he had a crush on him. Picani wasn’t frustrated with him when he admitted he’d chickened out, much to Virgil’s relief. Instead they talked about how the coping tools he’d recommended were working out and then they talked about the fun things he’d experienced that year. “Hold on, you described yourself and Janus as outcasts. But you just said that Roman, the main character of your year, as you described it, thinks you,” he pointed at Virgil with his pen, “are cool. I normally advice against this, but maybe you should pay more attention to the rumor mill in school Virgil, and see if Janus’ view of you two might be different from that of everyone else.”

It was an interesting thought. And Virgil did just that. Over the next week he eavesdropped on conversations where he heard his name drop. And what he heard, boosted his confidence to say the least. People called him brave, and attractive, smart and mysterious. They were hyping each other up to ask him out. Some were questioning why he was wasting his time with someone as ‘sketchy’ as Janus. “Doesn’t he know what that guy is like?” “Wouldn’t surprise me. That snake seems like the type to strangle a kitten with one hand while offering Anker some chocolate with the other.” He didn’t really like that bit. But the rest was pretty good.

Then there was his meeting with Patton Bonnaire. He’d left his third appointment with Dr Picani and decided to catch a ride home with his dad, considering he would be done soon. He was working on his mysterious ‘project’ over the weekend. The university wasn’t far from Picani’s office. Virgil told the receptionist who he was and sat down to mess around a bit on his phone while he waited. “Hello?” Virgil looked up to find a man his father’s age looking at him with a curious smile. He was dressed funny. Light blue cardigan and a grey sweater tied around his neck. Like some sitcom version of a suburban gay dad character. He looked very nice though. Wide bespectacled blue eyes and freckles all over his cheeks. “Um… hi,” Virgil greeted as he got up and offered his hand. “Virgil Anker, I’m waiting for my dad,” he explained. Seeing a random teen at the university on a Saturday afternoon would be rather surprising. “Oh my goodness! You are Logie’s son!” Logie? Virgil felt a smile fight to break free. This was going to be good. “Um… Logan Anker is my dad yeah… he told you about me?” he asked politely. “Oh, you’re the only way anyone can get him to talk about anything other than work. I know all about you, but I still don’t know what kind of cookies to bake for his birthday,” the man pouted. No, that’s not fair! Virgil didn’t know how to deal with disappointed faces like that! Well, considering his dad had told this man all about him already, it was probably fine to tell him this little thing about Logan. “Anything with Crofters Jam and you are his hero,” Virgil divulged, with a mildly devilish smirk, imagining the look on his father’s face when he suddenly received treats with his favorite guilty pleasure. How the man pulled it off, Virgil didn’t know, but he could swear the man’s eyes sparkled. He grabbed his hand in both of his and started jumping up and down excitedly. “Oh kiddo! Thank you so much! My name’s Patton! I teach moral philosophy. I love your cool jacket, and you did your make-up so well!” Then he lifted his sweater sleeve to reveal a heart shaped emblem on the cuff. The heart wore glasses and brandished the pan colors. Patton winked indicating he picked up on Virgil’s color scheme. Virgil smiled. “Thanks, I made it myself,” he informed him. “Wow! Such a talented kid! No wonder your dad is so proud of you!” Patton gasped in awe. Virgil blushed. “I’m alright,” he said dismissively, not very used to that type of praise from an adult. Patton reminded him a little of Roman. “Now, don’t say it like that. The design is good and you’ve sown it so well! Did you teach yourself?” Virgil nodded. “Well that’s amazing. I’m not surprised though. Whit a dad as clever as Logie.” Virgil is so going to tease his dad with that nickname. And maybe set these two up. At least if he isn’t the mysterious ‘project’. Was this dad’s way to hide that he’s trying to date? Patton was clearly interested. Ew… why does he even have to think about this? Scratch that. He knows why, he’s the only wingman his dad has. Technically there is uncle Thomas, his dad’s old college friend, but last time he’d tried to set Logan up, they’d ended up not talking for a month for some reason. As far as Virgil knew he hadn’t dated anyone since he adopted Virgil. The man needed to get out of his office. “For how long have you known my dad?” he asked curiously. “Oh we both started here around the same time. He won’t admit it, but I think I’ve… Crofted my way into his heart.” Virgil, not used to dad jokes, couldn’t help a chuckle. “Oh, you are so precious! Can I keep you?” Patton pleaded, only half joking if Virgil read him right. “Ask my dad out and maybe I’ll end up calling you papton.” That was terrible but Patton seemed to love it anyway. Then the rest of the sentence seemed to register and he blushed. “Um, wait no. I mean…” he sighed and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m that obvious?” “Only a neon sign with ‘date me Dr. Anker’ would be more obvious. And in my dad’s case, you might need that. He’s a bit dense when it comes to matters of the heart. I don’t think he’d notice if you had his all pitter Patton.” This gets him another bout of laughter. “You shouldn’t sell your old man short though kiddo,” Patton manages a few moments later. “He was a tad stiff in the beginning. But recently he’s quite lit, I believe the word is?” Virgil froze when he saw Patton dig through his messenger bag and retrieve copies of familiar cards. “He let you copy his flashcards?” he asked in surprise. “Oh, yes. I walked in one day to borrow a marker and heard him say ‘cobi’? He was tossing something in the trash and the class applauded. So I asked his secret and he showed me his cards. I asked if I could borrow them and…” Patton couldn’t finish his story because Virgil had lost the battle with his composure. He was laughing. Tears streaming down his face and clutching his stomach, barely keeping upright. “He actually said… god, I didn’t expect…” he wheezed.

“Virgil!” At the sound of his dad’s distressed voice he looked up and struggled to signal that it was alright. “Virgil if you can hear me squeeze my hand.” Oh no, dad thinks I’m having an attack. “Fine, fine,” he managed as he squeezed the hand that held his. “Just, can’t… Oh my god, hilarious,” he wheezed. “Virgil, are you having an attack?” He shook his head impatiently and tried the breathing exercise Picani recommended. It worked, surprisingly. Pretty soon he whipped at his eyes though he would have to wash his face in the restroom unless he wanted to look like a horror movie monster. He looked up at the two men in front of him. Patton was absolutely smitten. Seeing his dad in protective parent mode clearly didn’t turn him away. Quite the opposite. “You are using the vocab cards,” he explained. “Of course they were a gift from you, why wouldn’t I use them at any opportunity?” Patton clasped his hands in front of his mouth to stifle a squeal. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes, because you were complaining about not understanding some of the things your students were saying. I didn’t expect you to actually start yeeting your trash.” And then his dad readjusted his glasses, looked him dead in the eye and said: “Yeet is for distance. For trash I need accuracy, therefore the term used is ‘cobi’.” Virgil lost it again. His dad just… Gods he can’t wait to tell Roman… Wait, since when was Roman the first person he thought about to tell stuff like this. They weren’t even really talking right now. But telling Janus felt… when was the last time he and J had a proper conversation? Before summer? Yeah some time before art week. These thoughts brought down his mood enough to get him to stop laughing. Picani might not be entirely wrong to suggest that the friendship was in serious danger of becoming toxic. Though he didn’t use the label, Virgil could read between the lines. “Anyway, great meeting you Patton. It’s good to know dad has someone so nice looking out for him.” Then he turned to his dad. “You should invite him over for dinner some time. He’s a lot of fun.” Patton’s face became beet red, but more importantly his dad was getting flushed as well. “Well, you two talk about that, I’m going to wash my face,” he stated as he marched away, feeling rather good about himself. He always felt better about everything after a visit to doctor Picani. In the morning doubts and worries would return in full force. But right now, he was feeling good. When he returned he saw his dad standing alone, staring off in the distance. “Dad?”

“Dr. Bonnaire asked me on a date,” Logan breathed. “I think you can call him by his first name if that’s the case,” Virgil grinned. “I… I suppose…” His dad was in shock… wow. “You did say yes right?” Virgil clarified. “I… yes, I don’t know what came over me… I’ve never…” “Wait… you’ve never been on a date?” God the man who had the talk with him had never been on a date. “Not like this!” Logan exclaimed with a wild gesture, surprising Virgil. If he raised his voice this has to really be bothering him. “Last time, I was an arrogant college student who felt like he had to answer to no one but himself. Now, I am a single father, going out with a coworker. This is an adult outing. I can’t just…” Virgil smiled sympathetically and patted his father on the shoulder. “You really like this guy huh?” Logan sighed and nodded with a blush. “He’s so patient and friendly and… I just never thought he could ever…” “Now stop it right there. Me turning out like a somewhat stable person, proofs you are awesome. And you just showed him all the reasons why he should date you while taking care of me. You’re welcome by the way. Patton is cool. He’s already met your kid and passed the test. The scariest bit is over.” Suddenly his dad turned towards him and grabbed his shoulders. “You’re really fine with me going out with him? With me possibly entering a romantic relationship?” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I’m not a fan of the change, but I want you to be happy. And if Patton is your pick… I wouldn’t have suggested he come over for dinner if I didn’t like him.” Virgil rolled his eyes, but the gesture lost some edge when his father hugged him. “I am fortunate to have you as a son.” Virgil shoved him away, blushing awkwardly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever Logie,” he huffed getting a flustered stammering as a reward. “Let’s go home,” he suggested with a smirk before heading to the parking lot. The date was planned for the next weekend, after Halloween. And for Virgil it was a Halloween to remember.

He really wanted to go all out, Halloween was his favorite day of the year. But he didn’t want to ruin his costume or get Janus on his case. So, for school, he went with the bare minimum vampire costume, leaving his more elaborate creation for the trick or treaters to enjoy. He was texting his dad, who was still nervous about his date, and waiting for class to start when his day went from okay to awesome. “Greetings peasants!” the booming voice sounded warm and teasing and drew all eyes to the dark prince who’d just entered. Roman stalked trough he class, ‘scaring’ everyone with grand gestures with his arms and even drawing a fake sword threateningly. Making promises of never ending suffering upon the land. Virgil texted his dad that he’d talk to him later and to focus on his classes for now. Eventually Roman pulled back his chair and climbed on it, planting one of his feet firmly on their desk and raising his sword to the sky. “I! Prince Roman of the damned marshes declare war on all that is good and pure!” he bellowed. Virgil leaned back and enjoyed his front row seat. “And you,” he held out a hand to Virgil as if offering to pull him to stand at his side. “my coldhearted friend, may rule at my side!” he announced dramatically. Virgil felt a rush of adrenaline. Roman had effectively pulled him into his improvisation and Virgil didn’t feel like backing out of this challenge. Even if it involved having all eyes on him. “Is that a fact?” he chuckled amused, but otherwise uninterested. He had to be in character after all. And he didn’t look like a vampire bent on world domination. “Of course!” Roman’s delight at his participation settled warmly in his stomach. “You, dear count, are the only other of noble lineage! No one else is worthy of a throne!” Virgil did his best ‘whiny teen’ voice for his reply. “But ruling sounds like a lot of work.” To his surprise this got him a round of laughter, the good kind. People found him funny. “Then you may feast on my enemies!” Roman offered, not missing a beat. Now they were talking. But just then class started. Roman sat down next to him and shot him a hesitant smile when their eyes met while they got their books ready. Virgil felt kind of bad. Roman must’ve been wondering what he did wrong to go from ‘almost friends’ to ‘barely get two words that are not about class’. He returned the smile warmly, making sure that he knew that he was back. Janus criticized the whole endeavor of course, but Virgil didn’t really care anymore. “Roman and I are lab partners, and we’re going to talk. And sometimes we’re going to have fun doing so. You have zero right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I’m not your pet.” That shut Janus up. Perhaps he finally realized that he was acting the way he’d always said Roman would if Virgil gave him the time of day.

Virgil sat alone during Spanish, Janus had an exemption for his language elective because he was already proven fluent in both offered languages. Virgil had no clue what Jan did with the free hour, and he didn’t really care. “Hey, Virgil?” Virgil looked up and saw that some guy from Roman’s usual group had paused at his desk. He was dressed like a crazy professor. “Hi?” he greeted, not sure what had brought this on. The other boy grinned and offered his hand. “I’m André. I’m friends with…” suddenly he chuckled to himself and changed his posture and voice to fit his character more. “I mean I am a humble servant to Prince Roman. I have heard you have allied yourself with him for the day?” he inquired. Virgil chuckled. “Depending on how it goes the alliance might last past midnight,” he allowed. Then, as if on cue, the doubt started to creep in. “You have a problem with that?” he asked slightly challenging. “No my liege, never!” André assured him. “We have all been eager to meet you. A friend of the prince, after all, is already family to us.” It was exaggerated, but the sentiment was clear. He wasn’t seen as a threat, in fact he was already considered part of the group even if he never hung out with them. Before Virgil could really say anything the class started. André joined him on their way to the cafeteria and asked about how he did his hair and where he got his hoodie. He was halfway asking for a commissioned jacket when they entered the cafeteria and Virgil was pulled towards a table in the middle by an excited Roman. “At last there you are. It’s time to introduce these cryptids to their new rulers!” Virgil looked up at Roman who gave him a questioning look. He could decline, return to his little bubble of anonymity and pretend this never happened. But… Maybe, hiding away all his life wasn’t how he wanted to live it? So, why not? No hiding today. Or not unless he really had to. “With pleasure Princey,” he grinned, feeling satisfaction in being the cause of Roman’s delight once more. He did that. It was worth whatever Jan threw at him later.

They spent about ten minutes on improv and Roman managed to make Virgil forget about the audience completely. And when he, regretfully, left Roman to sit with Janus he could hear the whispers. But no one was laughing at him. There were so many looks of awe and admiration, it couldn’t not give him a little ego boost. “Talk about putting yourself on blast! What were you thinking?” Janus seethed. “Yolo,” Virgil shrugged, grinning as he imagined his dad saying it. “No one says that anymore,” Janus reprimanded. “It’s what I was thinking,” Virgil shrugged. Already planning his next act of defiance. He felt kind of bad taking advantage of his dad’s first date nerves and his worry for him, but if this was his teen rebel phase then there were worse things he could be doing while his dad was out of the house. “Are you sure…” “Yes! Just have a nice time. Text when you arrive at the restaurant and when you leave. I don’t have school tomorrow so don’t hurry home,” Virgil assured his dad. “Pat, steal his phone if he checks it even once during dinner,” he then instructed his dad’s date. “I will,” Patton winked. “Good, you crazy kids have fun and don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to do,” he grinned teasingly. “Virgil!” his father chastised. “Love you too!” he shouted as he shut the door in his father’s face. Then he rushed upstairs and took out the vampire cape he’d worn for the trick or treaters this year. He then put on a black long sleeved shirt, black jeans and black converses and a cheap black zoro mask. He wasn’t planning on being seen tonight but if he was, he’d rather not be recognizable… and maybe the cape was more for dramatic flair. Roman’s antics had been kind of fun and he wanted to try it out for himself. No one was going to see it anyway. And if he liked it he might make himself a proper costume for future outings. He walked through some sketchy streets until he found what looked like a gang waiting for a victim. They didn’t see him thanks to his cloak and he hid himself in the shadows not too far from them. He took a deep breath and willed them to forget about their surroundings and instead focus on each other. It was easy when people were either not the sharpest mind or not really paying attention. He’d only gotten past his dad that one time because he’d moved in absolute silence. And that trick had taken a lot of energy. His peers in the hallways were easy because most weren’t even watching where they were going let alone trying to see where he was. This was a large group, but they were kind of preoccupied with their conversation and not very smart. So it was easy making them ignore the hand full of lost people that passed them by in a hurry that night. A buzzing in his pocket caught his attention. He checked who it was. Janus. That could wait. He wondered what other ways he could use his cloak for the greater good. Another buzz in his pocket. He checked. His dad. “Paying now, home in ten minutes.” That was his cue to go home. He’d only seen three would be victims, but those were three people who got home safe to their families and might not have otherwise. That was something. He knew that to him, one person coming home or not was everything. So feeling satisfied with his first attempt at true heroism he moved through the streets and hurried home. He just managed to hide his mask and hang away his cloak before he heard the front door. He threw on his headphones and put on some music while he sat himself on his bed. Hoping he’d look like he’d been distracting himself with music. Maybe it would be better if he wore more casual street clothes next time. There was a knock on the door and he pulled off his headphones. “Come in!” he called. His dad poked his head inside and let out a sigh of relief when he found him on the bed, not having a panic attack. “You should be asleep,” he pointed out gently. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you good night. How was it?” The soft look on his father’s face said it all. “I will brief you in the morning. Now you should get adequate rest. Sleep deprivation is detrimental to both your physical health and creativity.” Virgil thought it was kind of funny how his dad had started to use his artistic ambitions as motivation to take care of himself lately. “Okay, night dad,” he muttered in surrender as he got up to get ready for bed. “Night Virgil… I love you.” Virgil smiled. Dad was never one for saying the words. But ever since the start of this year he seemed to be making an effort to change that. It was nice. Virgil had always known, but hearing it meant more than he’d expected it would. “Love you too dad,” he told him, once more feeling a little guilty about sneaking out, and for planning on doing more of these dangerous things. But he was sick and tired of playing it safe all the time. He had the ability to protect others. He should use it for more than just some bullies. Science class was a lot more fun now that he and Roman were talking. It wasn’t very personal. They just exchanged witty banter and complained about school stuff. If he confided in Roman, Janus would hear and he didn’t want to upset him even more. Turns out Janus would absolutely bully others. Or well… Pick fights with classmates over little inconveniences. Luckily Roman wasn’t afraid of him like everyone else seemed to be. He even kept it somewhat civil, just staring him down until Janus backed off. Virgil wasn’t as patient. He didn’t like fighting in public like this, but he was just so done with this BS. Every confrontation made him wonder if this friendship was still good for either of them. But just because he was considering doing it didn’t mean he was ready to hear others outright say it. The rumors were one thing. People theorized on why Virgil was still friends with Janus now that he clearly showed his ‘true colors’ to him. All involved Janus being some sort of villainous mastermind and Virgil the tragic hero trying to save everyone at the cost of his own freedom, safety, or whatever. They were ridiculous, but he could deal. What hit him hard was when Roman voiced his concerns. Janus had been goading a senior into a fight, which was beyond weird. Janus knew that he couldn’t take him on. He always stayed far away from the arbitrary lines high school hierarchy drew between different years. Virgil wasn’t alone in breaking up the fight. Roman was talking the senior down while Virgil got Janus to follow him to their next class. The principle heard about the almost fight though and Janus was called out of class halfway through. Roman approached Virgil when they crossed paths on their way to their next classes. Still no Janus in sight. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly. Virgil nodded as he collected his things from his locker, unsure what to say to Roman on this unfamiliar topic. This felt much more vulnerable than their usual chats. “Listen… I’m probably way out of line, but I don’t think I can handle seeing him use you like this any longer…” he started and Virgil, while he knew that Roman was absolutely right and that he probably should take the help he was offering, switched to survival mode. He didn’t want Roman of all people to see what a mess he really was. So he snapped. “You are right. You are way out of line. You don’t have the full picture and you have as much right to tell me what to do with who as Janus. So back off!” he growled before storming off. He regretted every word before he was even around the corner. That night he worked for hours on an apology. The next day he slipped Roman the note. It basically said that he appreciated the worry, but that he had it handled. Along with an apology for being a rude idiot. Roman tucked the note away and gave him a thumbs up to show it was okay. His dad’s date with Patton went well. Not a day went by where Virgil didn’t hear at least one thing about Patton, good or bad. Apparently his father could get a little frustrated with Patton’s humor and his excitement could be overwhelming at times. But even with all that the man made his dad happy with his warm and understanding nature. They’d only had one fight Virgil knew of, and that was resolved quickly. It was good to see his father be excited . It also made Virgil feel bad to realize he’d been so unhappy all this time because of… “Your father’s choices and issues are his to handle Virgil. It’s not fair of you to put the responsibility of his happiness on you.” Virgil looked up and sat back upright in the couch, folding his legs underneath him and studying his nails. He’d gotten a new galaxy polish the day before. He briefly wondered if Roman would notice. He always seemed to see it when Virgil changed something about himself. He forced himself to return his attention to the conversation at hand. Picani probably had a point. Still… “He’s known Patton for years, and I’m pretty sure they’ve both been interested in each other for a long time… if not for me…” “If not for you he might not have taken the job at the university in the first place. It’s like in The Prince of Egypt. When Mozes found himself in the nomad’s camp he felt unworthy of their kindness. But the priest told him that it wasn’t a single man’s place to judge the worth of his life. You’d have to take a step back and oversee all the people you’ve met and the effects you’ve had on their lives and how that ripples throughout the world around them.” “Wow, a movie. Out of cartoon references?” Virgil teased, choosing to table the doctor’s point to think about later. “I like to broaden my repertoire from time to time,” Picani admitted. “So… Have you told your prince yet?” he queries letting go of the subject in favor of another tough discussion. “I… We are barely friends. I don’t want to push him away like that.” He expected Picani to draw a comparison to Kim Possible or something. But the doctor could surprise him sometimes. “Could it be that your father had similar reasons not to pursue a romantic connection until now? Out of fear of upsetting a status quo he felt comfortable with?” Virgil frowned as he considered that. Maybe, maybe he had a point. His dad was one for schedules and predictability. A new addition to their family dynamic would shake that up. So, maybe his dad had needed a shove in the right direction. Should he… No Roman is straight. Nothing good is going to come from this. “You mentioned that he said he hadn’t expected to care so much for you. Sometimes you don’t know what you want or need until it falls into your lap. Your father didn’t know he wanted a son until he had one. And similarly he might not have known he needed a partner until you shoved him and Dr. Bonnaire together.” That…Well he had a point there, maybe. He also made Virgil feel so relaxed at times that he wanted to open up about his gift, even if just a little. Just mention that sometimes weird things happened. But he wasn’t sure if being gifted was one of those ‘if you might put yourself or others in danger’ exceptions to doctor patient confidentiality. Being a hero in the shadow’s had downsides though. He wasn’t authorized to make arrests. He didn’t have any kind of professional protection or equipment, and the police didn’t know who he is and to let him do his thing. Virgil had decided how he wanted to change the city though. He would listen in on conversations, record them without risk of being caught. And if those recordings ended up with the police and that lead to actual arrests... well that was almost as good then wasn’t it? He had plans for more daring escapades later. When he got better at healing and hiding. Baby steps. But that rule couldn’t apply to everything. After almost two years of dancing around Janus’ jealousy and his own wishes to make some other friends, the straw that broke the camel’s back came in a startling realization that brought everything crashing down. “Sociology would be a good choice.” Virgil hummed absentmindedly as he chewed on his sandwich and looked over the offered elective classes. The past two years he hadn’t been sure what to take and joined Janus in whatever he picked. But after a full year of hearing Roman encouraging his art, he’d spent a few Friday afternoons in the studio. He’d been surprised at how accommodating and understanding the other artists were. They saw him work with his headphones on and left him alone. No one looked at his art if he didn’t want them to and they didn’t care if he looked at theirs when they displayed it. They even asked him his opinions on their pieces. And rumors about his ‘talent’ had joined the whispers in the hallway he listened in on every now and then. “I was thinking to take an art elective,” he told Janus. “Why?” The question surprised Virgil. “Because I’d like to actually learn some techniques? I dunno. They say to pick something that fits our interests. I’m interested in art,” he explained a little annoyed. “But we can’t do anything with that in college,” Janus pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose it’s a decent extracurricular,” he allowed before going off in a rant: “though something with sports will be better. College’s eat that stuff up…” Janus kept talking but Virgil didn’t really listen anymore. He just realized something. Jan never stopped talking about decisions he made as if they were for the both of them. Even now he talked as if Virgil would even consider joining the football or debate team with him. Virgil who hated public speaking and would have a panic attack at the thought of football practice alone and all the injuries that could happen. “But… I really want to do art. The new teacher is a pretty awesome artist I’ve been kind of following for a while. This might be my only chance to learn from him,” Virgil pointed out. He really hoped that Jan had just not realized he was talking as if Virgil would follow him wherever he went. “Don’t be dramatic V. It’s not like you can make a career out of drawings.” Virgil thought back to every time Roman had praised him and said he had potential. Wasn’t that how friends were supposed to act? His dad, who had the job of keeping his feet on the ground was more supportive of his interest in art than Janus was being. “It makes me happy,” he muttered feeling hurt and rejected in a weird way. “A career isn’t about what makes you happy, it’s about what gets you ahead in life.” And the tone made it clear that Janus wasn’t going to talk about the subject any more. That was fine with Virgil. He too, had made a decision. The next appointment he sat himself on the edge of the couch and looked at Picani with an intense determination. “I’m ready.”

A hard won victory.

Masterpost

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #hero au #Long chapter #sorry #tw #food mention #mention of panix attacks #janus makes bad choices

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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years ago

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Can’t Go Back Part 13

A/N: This is posted a few days early because of Christmas. There will be a bonus chapter posted on Christmas but that one won't be vital to the story. This chapter deals with more of Montgomery’s over drinking and the fallout from that. Feedback is always appreciated. Much love. - Em

I held my gaze on Justin, ignoring Clay. He made a protesting grunt but before he could say anything, Justin spoke again. He was firmer this time. “Get. Out.” I heard Clay shuffle as he got up and avoided his gaze as he passed. His eyes burrowed into me while he took in my appearance. I must look a mess.

When we were alone, Justin pulled me close and held me for a moment. He pulled me into the room and directed me towards his bed. I sat down and pulled my sweater around me. He watched me as though I was a scared stray cat. Like he was ready to grab and corner me, the second I jumped and thought better of being here. Thought better of being alone in his room, rather than at home trying to fix things. I backed up from the edge of the bed and when I felt my back hit the wall, drew my knees up towards my chest. He grabbed his pillow and motioned for me to make room, “scoot.” He sat against his headboard and I moved down the wall, closer to the end.

“He came home.” I mumbled into my knees.

“That’s good.”

“We got in a fight.”

“I figured. What happened Addison?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” When I didn’t respond, he reached out and grabbed my arm to pull me over to him.

“I mean nothing. We got literally nowhere. He is still convinced that I’m upset about the picture frame. No matter how many times I tried to tell him it wasn’t the stupid picture, he just wouldn’t hear it. It’s like….” I trailed off.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know Justin.”

“Well what else happened?”

“He told me he talked to Scott about it. Like that made everything better. That he had discussed it with his best friend. And we both know that Scott wasn’t the enabler in this situation.”

“You fought about Bryce?”

“Kind of? He wouldn’t really listen. And it isn’t Bryce I’m mad at necessarily. I’m mad at Monty. Then he accused me of telling him he can’t be friends with him anymore. Which I didn’t do. His friends are his choice. And he is the one who made decisions that would cause problems. Not Bryce.”

Justin smiled sadly at me. “Addison. I know you. I know you better than anyone. Are you going to sit here and tell me that this is a Bryce issue, expecting me to believe you?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I knew deep down what he was talking about. I just didn’t want to face it.

“Addy.” He prompted with a pointed look. I sighed heavily and adjusted my position. My head was now resting in his lap. He stroked my hair in an attempt to be comforting. I was quiet for a long time. I didn’t want to face the reality of what the issue was.

“It scares me.” I said softly. The two of us sat with that statement for a while. “I know he would never hurt me. But it still scares me when he comes home like that.”

“I don’t think I’m the person you need to tell that to bubs.”

“I know. I just don’t know how to tell him that without crushing him. Or ruining our marriage or something.” I fiddled with my rings absentmindedly. “Wait a second. Did you just call me ‘bubs’?”

“I think not telling him or waiting to see if it gets worse, would be more likely to ruin your marriage. You don’t need to be aggressive about it or anything. If you sit him down and explain how you feel, I don’t see it doing any damage to your relationship. It will probably hurt him. But it might be the kick in the ass he needs for him to change.”

I sat up and faced him. “When did you become so insightful?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

“Rehab and months of meetings?” He offered and then laughed.

“Fair point.” He shot me his best cheeky lopsided grin and I couldn’t help but melt and grin back. Clay’s knock on the door pulled us back to reality and out of our private little bubble.

“Can I come in now?” he called.

“Yeah, sure.” Justin answered. He opened the door and walked in slowly. When he looked at me, I smiled. “I’m okay.”

“Okay. Mom said you can stay for dinner if you want. They made pot roast.”

“Um….” I hesitated. Just then, as if on cue, my phone dinged.

Hey, I know you’re still mad, but I need to know if you’re coming home for dinner so I know if I have to fend for myself tonight or not? I couldn’t help the slight roll of my eyes. Clearly talking to him about this anymore would need to wait until tomorrow. I turned to Justin and showed him the text. He scoffed quietly. “Do I go home and face the music?”

“It’s up to you.”

“Better question. How long do I want to sit in silence in my own home again?”

“That is a better ques-.” Justin started but was cut off by my phone dinging again.

Can I get an answer please?

“Looks like I’m joining you guys for dinner.” I said, as I opened his text.

I’m staying here. He left me on read. I rolled my eyes again and shook my head.

“What did he do?” Clay asked.

“Something stupid.” Justin stated. He wasn’t going to elaborate anymore, and neither was I.

“Okay then.”

The Jensen’s were wonderful to me as usual. Secretly, I think they were just happy that someone other than Jess was spending time with Justin. Dinner was delicious. I was still upset so I didn’t eat as much as I usually did. Clay raised a curious brow at me. I shrugged at him. He shared a curious look with Justin. To get them off my back, I took a particularly large second helping of mashed potatoes. I managed to keep my mind off the tense silence that would undoubtedly await me at home through all of dinner. I politely refused dessert, citing a need to get home and finish some homework. Mr. and Mrs. Jensen do not need to know about this issue.

I thought about what was waiting for me when I got home for the whole drive. Thankfully, his Jeep was still in the driveway. I took a deep breath as I fiddled with my keys at the door. This is still your house too Addison. Just go inside. You can deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. Justin is right. This won’t be something you can’t go back from. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was my turn to awkwardly look around the room and greet my husband.

“Hi.” I said softly.

“Hi.”

“Did… did you eat?”

“Yeah. Leftovers in the fridge if you want.”

“I ate at Justin’s.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what to do, so I went and grabbed my laptop and a pair of pyjamas from our room and shut myself away in the guest room. I fell into a fitful sleep a few hours after abandoning my computer.

Sunday morning was just as awkward as Friday morning had been. We were still walking on eggshells around each other. Both of us afraid of saying the wrong thing and messing this up further. The house was eerily silent. It wasn’t very big so it’s not like we could avoid each other forever.

Around noon, I decided I had had enough. We needed to discuss things and handle them like adults. Walking into the living room after my shower, clad in an old gym shirt and a pair of shorts, I stopped and watched Monty reading for a few moments. He must have felt my eyes on him, because he muttered a “hmmm?” as he turned a page.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to talk, but if you’re busy….” God you sound pathetic. He doesn’t get to be busy right now. A stupid book can wait. This can’t.

“Do I get a choice?” he asked, sighing. He was obviously still frustrated. And did not want to talk. Too bad, so sad buddy.

“Not really no.” I watched him blink slowly and take a deep breath.

“What.”

“We need to talk about this.”

“I was under the impression we already had.”

“You mean when we were yelling at each other yesterday?”

“Yeah. Before you left to go spend your day talking to Justin.”

“Seriously? You’re going to give me shit for talking to Justin? You talked to Scott and acted like that fixed everything.”

Montgomery sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I talked to Scott.”

“So, you can’t say anything about me talking to Justin. I’m not going to do this if we are going to go in circles again. It isn’t about the picture.”

“I know. You’ve said it enough. I get it Addison.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t see what your issue is. Is it that I’m friends with Bryce? Because that isn’t going to change Addison.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Obviously not.” He shook his head and stood to go to the kitchen. I followed after him.

“You are an adult. If you want to have shitty friends, who do shitty things, or encourage you to do shitty things that impact your relationships with people you care about, then more power to you. That isn’t the problem.”

“I’m glad you have such a high opinion of my friends. Just because I’m not friends with Alex Standall and Clay fucking Jensen, doesn’t mean my friends are shitty people.”

“No Montgomery. The fact that you have some friends who are shitty people, makes those friends shitty people. Your friends still aren’t the problem.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“The problem is that you don’t communicate with me. I understand that having someone you actually have to be accountable to is going to take time to get used to. But you don’t get to just come and go as you please. Yeah, I knew you were at Bryce’s place. But I had no idea when or how you were getting home, if you were coming home at all. I didn’t know if you were safe or not. I know you think Bryce is this great guy and everything but trust me. He would just as soon push you under the bus as he would use a wad of cash to fix a problem you had.”

“And how would you know anything about that?”

“Because he did it for Justin. Someone he was arguably just as close, if not closer to, than you. He let you drive home when you were so drunk you couldn’t stand up. Does that sound like something someone you claim is your brother would do if they actually cared about you?”

“I’m not Justin.” He stated, indignantly. Sure, just ignore the rest of my statement.

“I know. But like I said, this isn’t about Bryce. I don’t care if you’re friends with Bryce Walker. I care that you communicate me. I care about knowing if you are okay. I care about you engaging in behaviour that is detrimental to your safety and wellbeing. I care that you come home drunk. If you had sent me a text or called me or sent a carrier pigeon or had one of your friends call or text me, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Next time I decide to go out, I’ll assign someone to tell you where I am, every minute I’m gone.”

“Jesus Montgomery. That isn’t what I’m asking of you at all. I just want to know if you’re coming home.”

“Fine.” I was quiet for a bit, not sure how to proceed and bring up my quiet revelation with Justin yesterday. Monty had begun unloading the dishwasher. “I can hear you thinking. You clearly still have more to say. You might as well say it.”

“I… I care that you come home drunk Monty.”

“You said that. Multiple times, actually.”

I sat down at our island. “I care about you.”

“Okay. Given that we are married, I would say that’s a good thing.”

“I… it….” I trailed off.

“What Addison? You what?” he set a bowl down harsher than he meant to and I flinched slightly. He didn’t appear to notice. He went on unloading the dishwasher.

“It scares me.” I said, quietly.

“Hmm?” He muttered, not having heard me. I took a deep breath.

“It scares me.” I said louder as I stared at the design in the marble. He didn’t respond but I could hear him continue moving. “It scares me when you come home like that.” I continued, “you scare me when you come home that drunk.” His movements stilled. I felt tears fill my eyes. One beat, then two, then ten, went by and he still hadn’t said anything. I just ruined everything. Justin was wrong. All I could focus on was the sound of the blood rushing in my head.

I looked up and suddenly Monty was beside me. It looked like he had tears in his eyes. I knew he was trying to hide them. “Are you being serious Addy?” He asked softly. His voice cracked a little about mid-way through his sentence.

“I know that you would never hurt me. It’s just… when I see you like that; I never know what I’m going to get.”

He pulled a stool closer to me and sat down. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

“I don’t know.” I muttered, playing with the hem of my shirt. He reached out and placed his hand on top of mine. I stilled my movements but didn’t look up at him. “I guess I was afraid of how you would react? Or maybe I was afraid to admit it to myself?”

“I had no idea you felt that way.” He pulled on my leg to turn me towards him. I peeked up at him and he was staring at me intensely. I sat up to look him in the eye. “You need to know that I would never do anything to hurt you like that Addison. And I would never lay a finger on our kids.”

“I know. I know you wouldn’t Monty.”

“I can’t promise I’ll never say something stupid or hurtful when we fight, but I can promise you that I will never physically harm you.”

“I know. I can’t promise I won’t say something hurtful in the heat of the moment either.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I had admitted what the real issue was. Where do we go from here?

#monty de la cruz #monty de la Cruz fanfic #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz imagine #montgomery de la cruz x reader #Justin Foley #clay jensen #Bryce Walker #Monty is still an idiot #Hes in the doghouse #can't go back

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mrs-mikko-rantanen · 4 years ago

Text

Speech and Debate

Ok so I’ve been thinking about this all day long and I just had to write it....so here you go: 1558 words of Lost Boys content. A baby Adair, age 16 in 2015, cold, shivering, and heavily concussed!

Concussion, two broken ribs, broken thumb, split lip, pretty sure my nose is broken, and I really hope my wrist isn’t broken. Adair’s head throbbed as he went through the list of injuries he’d sustained. He’d lost a few matches before, but never quiet this badly. He’d been so desperate after loosing the first match that he’d begged for a second match. Some way to salvage the night. He’d broken his ribs in the first fight, and had spent the second match panting heavily through his teeth, trying not to let the pain distract him. Trying, and failing.

In short, he’d gotten his ass kicked.

He groaned and dug his phone out of his back pocket, checking the time. His heart sank as he saw the missed call and three missed texts from his brothers. He looked up as a bus pulled up to the stop on the corner, and he frowned. He wasn’t exactly sure a bus was a great idea tonight. A cab wasn’t either. His concussion was making it difficult to focus on smaller details, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d be able to give the right address. And if he got off the bus at the wrong stop, he didn’t want to wander the city alone in this state. He sighed, and the action sent a wave of pain through his chest as his ribs screamed in protest. Glancing back down at his phone, he hit the button on the missed call notification, and then hit the option to return the call. He winced as the phone rang in his ear, and he turned the volume down a bit. The phone only rang twice before his older brother answered.

“Addie, hey. I was starting to worry about you. Everything ok? How was Speech and Debate?” Adair could hear the concern in Castor’s voice as he spoke, only thinly veiled by relief.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m fine, I guess. We just got a little carried away.” Adair stuffed his free hand into his pocket as he looked around for somewhere he could sit. “Look, I know it’s late, but could you maybe come get me?”

“Of course. I’ll be at the school in five-”

“I’m uh, I’m not at the school.” Adair admitted.

“What? Where are you?”

“Umm…” Adair glanced around, stumbling a bit closer to the corner to read the street signs. “I’m at that diner on the corner of 7th and Baker. Kassidy’s?”

“You’re on Baker Street? What the hell are you doing all the way down there?”

Adair’s head flopped back as he looked up at the sky. The motion had been inspired by a wave of frustration and guilt, but he was met by a sudden spike of pain as his neck protested and his head throbbed. “Look, can you just come get me, Cas? Please?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be right there. Go sit in the diner, I don’t want you on the street, ok?”

“Right. Thanks, Cas.”

“I’m on my way.”

Adair hung up and walked over to the diner. Despite what Castor had said, he didn’t go inside. He would have felt bad not buying anything, and he knew for a fact he didn’t have any cash wadded up in his pockets. Instead, he leaned up against the wall, his backpack slung over one shoulder while he waited. He pulled the hood of his jacket up and put his headphones in. Usually he would have put on some music, but anything more than the white noise he was playing to drown out the sound of the traffic made him nauseous. Every breath hurt worse than the last one had. He’d originally thought that he’d only broken two ribs, but as he stood there waiting, he was starting to think that maybe there were a few more broken too. His eyes slid shut and he leaned his head back against the brick wall, whimpering slightly as he gently probed his chest. He pried his eyes open and blinked furiously, trying to tell if his vision was blurry because of the blunt force trauma, the tears, or some combination of the two. He sniffed and wiped at his nose, then immediately regretted the action. A car pulled up to the curb, and he staggered over to it as the window rolled down.

“I thought I told you to wait inside.” Castor said as Adair pulled out an earbud.

“Thanks for coming to get me.” Adair said, wedging his backpack into the space by his feet as he ignored his brother.

“Wow. When you said your debate team got a little carried away, you weren’t kidding.”

Adair leaned his head against the window and caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror and groaned. He looked almost as bad as he felt. His right eye was swollen almost completely shut, his left cheekbone was covered in an ugly purple bruise, and there was blood dried under his nose, and all down the side of his face from a cut above his eyebrow that he didn’t even know he had.

“Wait here.” Adair’s head came up and he frowned as he looked over at Castor, who was undoing his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

“What? Where are you going?”

Castor shrugged a little. “You tell me, Addie. Where’s the asshole that’s been doing this to you every week for the last three months?”

Adair rolled his eyes and leaned his head on the window again. “It’s not like that, Cas.”

“I don’t care. I’m done with this. I’m tired of you coming home beat to hell every week.”

“Cas just drop it, ok? It’s fine, really.”

Castor clenched his jaw, his hand clenched tight around the steering wheel as he thought things over. “Fine. You’re right. You’re sixteen, you’re old enough to stand up for yourself, and God knows you’re more than capable enough. I won’t get involved.” He shifted back around, pulling on the seatbelt and putting the car back into drive. “Let’s get you home.”

“Thank you.” Adair said, looking back out the window. His stomach churned a little as the lights of the city began to flick by, stinging his eyes and setting his head spinning. He groaned a little and closed his eyes as they drove on, back towards the base. As his head swam, he decided that maybe it was better if his brother knew what was really going on. Besides, it was going to be a while before he and Ewan could get their permits, and who knew how long until they were able to get another car or a way to drive around. Chances were, there were going to be plenty of days that he was going to need Castor to come get him and drive him home.

“I’m not really on the Speech and Debate team.” He admitted, his eyes flicking open as he stared out the windshield.

Castor said nothing, but Adair could feel him thinking obviously.

“I, uh. I’ve been fighting. Competitively.” Adair said, shifting a bit in the seat.

“Like for a team with the school? Or some gym?”

“Neither. It’s...not exactly legal. It’s--” He fought the sigh, not wanting his ribs to burn anymore than they already were. “It’s a gambling ring. I’ve been fighting to earn some extra money.” Adair glanced at Castor, not sure how his brother would react. Castor’s face was a mask, unreadable as he took in the new information.

“Are you being safe?” He finally asked as he pulled into the parking garage of the base.

Adair shrugged a little, taken aback by the lack of lecture from Castor. “I mean, as safe as I can be. It’s a bit shady, but yeah, I’m….taking care of myself, I guess?”

Castor nodded and got out of the car. Adair hesitated a little and got out slowly, shrugging on his backpack before he followed. Castor was leaning on the back of the car, arms crossed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“You’re not mad?”

Castor shrugged again. “Why would I be? You’re finally branching out a bit in your interests. And it gives you something to do outside of the Revolution, gets you some space.”

Adair fought not to smile too much, but the right side of his mouth twitched up in a bit of a crooked grin that pulled on the split in his lip.

“You’re not gonna make me stop?”

Castor snorted. “Yeah right. If I tell you to stop, would you really?”

The grin finally won out on Adair’s face, “Probably not, no.”

Castor shrugged as he stood up from the car. “As long as you’re being at least sort of safe about it, I don’t see a problem with it.”

They stood in silence for a while, before Castor reached out and pulled Adair into a hug. Adair’s body ached in protest, but he wrapped his arms around Castor anyway, grinning as he shook his head a little.

“Let’s go get you patched up a bit, yeah? Hungry?”

“Not really.” Adair wasn’t even lying. His stomach was still churning and his spinning head wasn’t helping any.

“Well you’ll drink some water, anyway.” Castor took the backpack from the younger boy, shrugging it onto one arm, the other draped over Adair’s shoulders to keep him steady and moving in one direction.

#castor #adair #the lost boys #ahhhhhhhh #little bitty mayhem and his older brother #I love #this is a lost boys fan blog now #sorry not sorry #adair insp #castor insp #concussion #broken ribs #post fight #whump #sorta?#idk #i'm gonna tag my whump taglist on it anyway lol #but that's mostly just bc it's been a while since I tagged yall in anything

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ewankoseyo · 5 years ago

Text

MU || jinyoung imagine

In which you and Jinyoung aren’t officially dating, but you two just had a mutual understanding...right?

——

Jinyoung only did one star at Thai restaurants because he couldn’t handle spicy food. If possible, he would get no stars.

He had an iced Americano every morning to start his day. He would never leave his dorm room if he had it his way. He isn’t the world’s greatest chef, but he can make leftovers feel like a Michelin-star meal by putting a runny egg on top. He’s perpetually tired from a lack of proper rest (he’s a night owl when it comes to assignments.) Though he’s known as the “smart one” of your friend group—a freaking direct admit into his major—he could be pretty dumb when it came to common sense things.

He could also be moody and seemingly agitated by others, but you knew he’d never be rude to people on purpose. He was only like that when school was stressing him out.

When it came to Jinyoung, you knew him better than anyone else.

Everyone knew that Jinyoung had no interest in relationships. Who has time for relationships when he was trying to make it out alive in the university’s most competitive major? But you knew better.

You and Jinyoung may not be officially dating, but you had an unspoken mutual understanding. He could be cold at times, but you knew how to get to the real him. The kind and understanding and vulnerable Jinyoung. You were the only one he’d ever show his true self.

“Noona, just ask him out already.”

If you weren’t tagging along with Jinyoung, you could often be seen lounging around the student center with Bambam, laptops opened on the table under the pretense of studying, when really you’d both be on your phones showing each other funny posts. During these “study sessions,” it was common for you to tell him something that happened with Jinyoung, hoping for him to confirm your hypothesis that Jinyoung liked you back. Today just happened to be one of those study sessions.

“It’s been three years of this,” Bambam continued. “Like you said and like everyone else has been saying, you two are practically dating. Just hurry up and ask him out already so I don’t need to hear any of this anymore.”

You shot him a dirty look across the table. “You know I can’t do that—��

“What about all that ‘mutual understanding’ crap you were talking about?” Bambam shook his head as he put his phone down, returning to his computer to work. “You wouldn’t be so scared to ask him out if you’re so sure he likes you back.”

“It’s not because I’m scared,” you argued. “I just don’t want to stress Jinyoung out with another thing. He has no time for relationships, remember? We’re comfortable as we are now.”

“Right.”

“Plus I’m not the only one who likes him. You saw the way Hyo Jin kept leaning on him during karaoke last week, she didn’t even drink that much. She would attack me or something of me and Jinyoung started actually dating.”

Bambam smirked. “How could I forget? You kept glaring at her, you were so jealous—”

“What do I have to be jealous of?!” Bambam laughed as you threw your water bottle at him. You were easily riled up when it came to Jinyoung and Bambam got a kick out of pushing your buttons. It was a wonder how you two never got kicked out of the center for being so noisy.

“Busy studying?”

The two of you were in the middle throwing crumpled up wads of Bambam’s failed assignments at each other when Jinyoung approached your table. He seemed exhausted—well, more tired than usual—with slight dark circles apparent under his eyes.

“Oh, hi Hyung,” Bambam greeted as he caught the last wad you aimed his way. “What are you doing here?”

“Had to study for an o-chem quiz tomorrow,” Jinyoung replied, narrowing his eyes skeptically at the both of you. “I’d ask what work you had to do, but it looks like you’re not getting much done...”

“Well, I would be studying but Bambam here keeps distracting me,” you interjected. Bambam scoffed, eliciting another dirty look from you ordering him to be quiet. “Are you heading back to your dorm already?”

Jinyoung nodded as he stifled back a yawn. “I still need to work on a math assignment but if I stay here any longer, my brain’s going to explode.”

“Have you eaten yet?” Jinyoung shook his head. “You wanna grab dinner?” It took everything within you to stop yourself from kicking Bambam under the table as he was visibly trying not to laugh.

Jinyoung looked conflicted. “But...that’s money.”

“Oh come on, you just got paid. I bet you don’t even have food at home. And you’re always cranky and can’t get anything done when you don’t eat.”

He gave a resigned sigh. “Where were you thinking?”

“Ramen?”

“But that’s so far! I’m not about to walk all the way over there!”

You scrunched up your face cutely, earning an eye roll from Bambam. “Pleeeease...”

Jinyoung sighed again. “Fine, but only if you stop doing that. And we’re taking the bus, I don’t want to walk up the hill.”

“But it’s only a seven minute walk!”

He smirked and shrugged, pretending to leave you. “Fine, I’ll just go home...”

“No wait, we can bus!” You scurried to pack up your things, almost afraid that Jinyoung would actually leave you if you took too long. Putting on your backpack, you were finally ready to head out. “Okay let’s go.”

“See you tomorrow, Bam.” Jinyoung waved his younger friend off.

“Bye Hyung, bye Noona.” Bambam just shook his head at you as you mouthed “mutual understanding” to him before you left. He laughed to himself and went back to studying (for real this time) as you walked off with Jinyoung, linking your arm through his.

“Let go of me, you’re so clingy.”

“But it’s cold outside!”

——

After dinner, you and Jinyoung headed back to his room to study some more. He was slumped over notes on his bed while you took over his desk. Unable to focus, you looked back to see Jinyoung engrossed in a problem. You sighed to yourself and attempted to get back to your paper, but you were at a complete standstill. Your paper wasn’t even due until next week. You had already finished all of the immediate work you needed to do, but you were supposed to be there to study.

You and Jinyoung hasn’t spoken in over an hour. Dinner was almost as quiet, as the both of you had been too busy gorging yourselves to speak much. Now that he was in the zone, the rest of the world seemed to disappear—he wasn’t going to talk to anyone unless they got his attention first.

“Look at this shirt!” You ran to sit next to him on his bed and showed him a dress shirt that popped up on your feed. “Ooh if I get this for your birthday, will you wear it? It would match you!”

He gave you a funny look before returning to the problem he was doing on the white board over his bed.

“Why do you keep trying to change me?” Jinyoung asked teasingly, not looking up from the board.

“I’m not changing you, I’m just enhancing your style,” you rebuttled, making yourself comfortable against his headboard. “You know how much I like dressing my guy friends. I’m tryna get y’all from a nine to a ten.”

Jinyoung just shook his head and rolled his eyes at you.

“You need to get a boyfriend.”

You nearly choked on your own spit hearing his words. Jinyoung had a tendency to stay quiet but get in a simple yet biting side comment that left everyone speechless.

“Why would you say that?” You tried to sound nonchalant but if Jinyoung was looking at you, he would’ve seen your face heating up.

“You keep trying to dress me like those singers you think are sooo cute. You basically want me to look like Bambam.”

“He does have the best fashion sense out of all of you guys,” you pointed out. “And you always wear that jean jacket I picked out for you.”

Jinyoung sneered to himself. “You got me there.”

“I just have an eye for fashion, and it brings me joy to share this gift with my friends.”

He finally looked away from the board, giving you the attention you’d been waiting for, only to say,

“Use that gift to dress your boyfriend, I’m not your boyfriend.”

He went back to his problem after that, unaware of your resigned stare.

“Right,” you agreed under your breath dejectedly. “You’re not.”

“What are you even doing here? Don’t think I don’t see you, you’re not doing anything school-related.”

“Just wanted to hang...”

Jinyoung groaned a little. “I don’t have time to hang out. I have way too many deadlines I need to meet and with all these annoyances and distractions, I’m just barely meeting them.”

Suddenly, you felt an aching sensation in your chest.

“Annoyances?”

“Yeah, I keep getting distracted so I can never get anything done when I want to.”

“Oh.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Not knowing what else to say and seeing as Jinyoung was back in work mode, you took the resumed silence as your cue to leave. You slowly got off his bed and started to pack up your things. As expected, Jinyoung paid you no mind through your motions.

You hesitated by his doorway, sparing him another glance before you left. “Well, good night...”

“Yup, see ya.”

He didn’t look up once.

Doubts flowed through your head as you walked back to your place. Did Jinyoung really think of you as an annoyance? Sure, you could be loud and overbearing but he never seemed to mind. You always thought of it as your thing—Jinyoung was the quiet and sensible one while you were the loud and energetic one. Even though you were different, people would say that you two completed one another.

But maybe you had it all wrong. Maybe you were reading into things and it was all in your head. Maybe you weren’t as close as you thought and Jinyoung was just too nice to say anything before. Maybe he had had enough of just tolerating you.

In the midst of all these maybe’s, one thing was for sure—there was no mutual understanding.

When you were finally home and got ready for bed, you began to spiral. What if everyone else felt this way too?

Annoyance.

Distraction.

Jinyoung hadn’t lashed out when he said these things. It didn’t seem like school was stressing him out enough to be agitated towards others, but it was the other way around.

You were stressing him out enough to be agitated towards school.

So as you got into bed, your heart as heavy as your eyelids, you vowed to be quieter and unintrusive. Doing well in school was very important to Jinyoung—it made him happy. If a lack of distractions and annoyances was what he needed to succeed, you were going to give him just that.

——

Jinyoung was having a great day.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as he walked out of his bio class with the test setting the class curve in his hands. After being bombarded the last two weeks with test after test, assignment after assignment, he was finally catching a break. And with his only class the next day being canceled, Jinyoung was left with a three-day weekend. It was as if the gods were looking out for him.

Jinyoung wanted to celebrate, and there was one person he wanted to celebrate with.

“Bambam!” The younger boy was napping on one of the couches in the middle of the student center, his books and laptop set out on the table but none of them open. He immediately sat up when he heard his name.

“Oh, Hyung, what’s up?” Bambam stifled back a yawn and opened up one of his textbooks.

“I see your working hard as usual,” Jinyoung chuckled. He didn’t know how Bambam hadn’t been kicked out of school yet, the kid was never seen going to any of his classes. “I was wondering, have you seen—”

“Noona?” Bambam finished as he rubbed his eyes. “No, I haven’t. She isn’t with you?”

Jinyoug shook his head. “I thought she’d be with you.”

Bambam blinked a few times, giving Jinyoung a perplexed expression. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen or heard from her in a while.”

Jinyoung frowned. “You mean she hasn’t reached out to you or anything?”

“Usually she just finds me here after class, but I’ve been here and I haven’t seen her come through.”

“Interesting...”

“Why are you looking for Noona? Usually she’s the one looking for you,” Bambam inquired, not even trying to hide the smirk on his lips.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what his friend was getting at. He only pretended not to hear, but Jinyoung knew exactly what your friends were saying about the two of you. “Knock it off. I just finally had some free time and some money, and was going to ask her if she wanted to grab food.”

“I can grab food with you, Hyung! I don’t have any work to do.”

“I’ll pass,” Jinyoung joked. “But you won’t if you don’t actually do your work.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m doing just okay in my classes...”

As he left Bambam and got out his phone to message you, Jinyoung hit a startling realization: he had never actually messaged you before.

He was never one to reach out to anyone ever actually. If he was hanging out with someone, it was because they had reached out to him first.

Jinyoung scrolled up on his phone to see that the previous conversations had always started with you.

“Omg you need to watch this video, this is sooo YOU.”

“Dude, I’m starving! Have you eaten yet?”

“Can I come over? My roommates are being too noisy and I NEED to get this assignment in before midnight!”

He felt something strange in the pit of his stomach when he noticed his responses.

“I don’t get it.”

“Yes.”

“I guess.”

Not thinking too much about it, he reached out to you.

“Hey! What are you up to?”

Only five minutes had passed and he was already marching to your dorm. He had expected to get a response back from you within seconds.

But going to your dorm was a bust as well, as one of your roommates had answered the door instead of you.

“She’s always the first one to leave and doesn’t come back until really late. Even then, she doesn’t really explain where she’s been.”

He texted all of your mutual friends as well, but none of them had heard from you either. Jinyoung felt himself begin to panic as he roamed the halls of the university where you might have been. It was so unlike you to be so elusive. You hadn’t posted anything to your story, you weren’t seen on anyone else’s story either, and you’d been offline on social media for hours. Used to you initiating something with him every day, for once, Jinyoung found you inaccessible.

It was when he grew hungry from searching for you that he noticed a backpack with a familiar keychain on the ground next to a secluded booth in a corner of the dining hall. A wave of relief hitting him, Jinyoung made his way over.

“Hey stranger.”

“Oh! Jinyoung...hi...” The person you least expected to see that day was sliding into the seat across from you, a rare relaxed smile gracing his features. You immediately straightened yourself out, fixing your hair absentmindedly. “H-how are you?”

He smirked and gave you an incredulous look. “I’m okay, but how are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Yeah well, I’m just, um, getting some work done. Got a paper due in anthro.”

“I see...”

“Yeah.”

His eyes scanned your expression, attempting to make sense of you as you pursed your lips into a thin polite smile shortly before seemingly going back to whatever you were typing.

“Hey...” You froze as Jinyoung placed his hand over yours. You gazed up at him, not recognizing the look on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed in...worry? “How are you really doing?”

You let out an awkward laugh. “What do you mean? I’m fine.” You plastered the best reassuring smile you could muster on your face, but Jinyoung looked at you doubtfully in return.

“No, something’s wrong. I’ve asked around and no one has heard from you in a while. I even talked to your roommate earlier, and they don’t even know where you go all day.”

You stared back at Jinyoung in awe. “You were looking for me?”

He nodded. “It isn’t like you to avoid people like that. You’re usually the life of the party. Now could you please tell me what’s going on? And don’t try to lie to me, I can tell when you’re lying. You’re awful at it.” He tried to play off the last part as a joke but you were far from laughing.

You looked down ashamedly, chewing on your lip as you wracked your brain for the words to say.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

At first, Jinyoung began to laugh at your words but he immediately stopped when he caught your distraught expression. Actually, now that he was taking a good look at you, he noticed something was different about you. You seemed smaller, shyer. Your voice when you spoke was uncharacteristically softer and so careful. The usual sparkle in your eyes when you were excitedly telling him about something that happened to you that day was gone, replaced by a dullness. A sadness. You weren’t yourself.

Jinyoung frowned at this, worry settling on his handsome face once again.

“What do you mean by that?”

You sighed, wishing for the ground to suck you up completely and saving you from this embarrassment.

“That one time we were studying together and you said you didn’t have time to hang out because you already didn’t have enough time to do your work with all the distractions and annoyances. I felt...I felt bad for annoying you all the time so I stopped so you could get your work done.”

“Hey...you were never being annoy—”

“Jinyoung, this friendship isn’t reciprocal.”

His eyes widened, his mouth slowly opening and closing in an attempt to respond, but it was clear he was at a loss for words. Jinyoung grimaced to himself as your eyes gazed sadly into his.

“I realized that I was always the one reaching out to you. Even though we spend a lot of time together, I don’t know, I just feel like I’m always happy to be with you but you’re just being nice and tolerating me. I know being at the top of your class is important to you, so just let me know and I’ll just stop...annoying you.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you were ready to pack your things and excuse yourself so you could cry in the privacy of your dorm room, before Jinyoung got up and slid into the booth so he was now sitting next to you. He silently wrapped his arms around your shoulders (as he did in rare signs of affection) before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“What—what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung said, placing his chin on top of your head and holding you in his arms. “I’m sorry I’ve been crap to you. I’ve never thought you were an annoyance. I just meant all these unnecessary things I have to deal with that get in the way of my work. Like Bambam making me talk to our ethics professor for him so she’ll give him an extension on an assignment that he had plenty of time to do. Very annoying.”

You pretended to struggle out of his grasp in an effort to seem like you weren’t enjoying the sudden affection. “...But you’re saying I’m a distraction?”

“Of course,” he replied simply as he smirked into your hair. “How am I supposed to get any work done when you’re sitting all pretty at my desk pretending to work?”

“Jinyoung!” There he went again, another uncharacteristic comment that left you speechless. Your feeble hits against his chest only made him hold you even tighter.

“But really though, I’m sorry for making you feel this way.” Jinyoung gazed down at you, sighing with relief when he caught the glimmer in your eye. “I just always assumed we had this mutual understanding.”

You scoffed a bit. “Really feels more like a misunderstanding.”

You could feel his chest rumble as he chuckled to himself. “Despite you always trying to give me fashion advice, you never try to change who I am like everyone else does, even though we’re so different. And I do always appreciate you spending time with me, even if we’re just sitting in silence.”

Your face scrunched, trying to hide the fond from your expression. “It’s weird when you’re being nice to me.”

“You might just be rubbing off on me,” he replied, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “But do you know why no one ever reaches out to you asking to hang out?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they always assume you’re already hanging out with me, your boyfriend.”

You hit Jinyoung in the bicep this time, but once again, it only elicited a laugh from him.

“Says the guy who tells me to get a boyfriend so I can stop picking out shirts for him!

“Why would you need to pick out a shirt for a boyfriend when you have me? Just focus on me.”

“Let go of my arm Jinyoung, you’re so clingy!”

“But it’s cold outside!”

——

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #park jinyoung #im jaebum #mark tuan #jackson wang #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #got7 oneshots #got7 fics #kpop oneshot #kpop fics

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jennygirl2014 · 5 years ago

Text

“Red is Your Color”-requested fic-Final Part

(A/N: HERE IT IS! I FINALLY FINISHED IT! I hope you enjoy! Please forgive me if it needs some minor edits, I’ll go back and do it later, I just wanted to get this posted lol)

Warnings: language and smut, smut, smut, NSFW

[Part 1 here] [Part 2 here]

Another three weeks went by, and still the loneliness in that apartment got to me. Not so much the loneliness, but the memories that the place held, both good and bad. It didn’t matter much more anyway, because while I had managed to scratch up enough money to pay for the rent by myself after Steve left, albeit late, this month was going to be a different story. I was over a week late on rent, and I still didn’t have enough money. I had picked up another job, as much as I hated to admit it, but I had yet to get paid there. I suppose my efforts were too little too late, that eviction notice would be coming if I didn’t find a way to pay it by the end of that week. The tip money I was getting was used to cover my phone bill, luckily my ex didn’t ask for the phone back, he just disconnected the service.

So there I was again, a cocktail waitress at some stupid bar. I had to wear something fitting and fetching, per the manager’s request, and I still wasn’t pulling in tips like other girls there. And to think I thought I was cute…shit. It was embarrassing, but it had to be done. I was just finishing my shift and helping put up chairs when the door to the bar opened, but I didn’t bother looking across the room. I kept placing the chairs up on the tables in preparation for mopping, something I had the joy of doing twice a week, until a familiar voice caught my attention.

“Hey.” I turned to see none other than Steve Rogers himself, standing next to me. He looked so well put together, jeans, grey shirt, leather jacket, ballcap, just like any other man who might have wandered into that club. Only I had a history with this one.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, breathlessly, not sure as to why. Maybe because he caught me off guard.

“I came to see you.” He replied so simply. As if we hadn’t fought like cats and dogs the last two times we saw each other.

“Who told you I worked here?” I began to quiz him, I certainly didn’t tell him, hell I didn’t even have his number anymore.

“Let’s just say a little bird told me.” He seemed unarmed, and by that I mean he didn’t want to fight. He could still snap someone in half if he wanted to, but he looked so gentle. I wasn’t having any of it.

“So Sam told you.” I made the connection, and he looked down and chuckled, “I thought I saw him here the other day.” At least I remembered who he was.

“Yeah,” he looked back up with a small smile, but I had to look past it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, I knew we were over. “How have you been?” he tried to make small talk.

“What do you want? We’re closing up.” I told him.

“Well,” he started, “I got a phone call from our…your landlord.” He corrected himself and I sighed and looked away from him. I already knew what he was told. “He said the rent hasn’t been paid.”

“I’m working on it. I’ll have it by the end of the week.” I told him as I walked away to pick up more chairs. This was turning into an embarrassing moment, and I wanted no part of that.

“Well…just hang on…” Steve called my attention back to him and I stopped and turned to see him, but he stopped talking. Instead his eyes scanned me up and down, and then I remembered what I was wearing. He loved seeing me in that dress, hot red, tight, short. “It’s good to see you.” He said softly. I blinked at him and tilted my head, telling him without words that I was done with the conversation. And I was really done with him looking at me like that. Of course, I liked it, but I was never going to admit it. He found his next words. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” I looked away again, maybe because I was lying. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice. He licked his lips and reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash.

“Here.” He held it out to me, and I blanched. I wasn’t going to take it. No way in hell.

“What’s that for?” I already knew the answer.

“Rent.”

“I said I’m working on it.” I grit my teeth at him.

“Well now you have it.” He thrusted the money closer to me. I didn’t budge.

“I don’t want it.”

“Come on…just take it.” He sounded almost like he felt guilty, “Everyone needs some help from time to time.”

“I don’t want your help.” I glared at him.

“Then use it for a new coffee maker.” He offered, “Or whatever.”

“Why?” I cut my eye at him. What did he want?

“Because I’m sorry.” He said it so gently that it tugged at my heart strings. I had to look down at my feet, I could feel my eyes wanting to tear up. “Okay? I’m sorry. About the fighting, about all of it.”

“Trying to buy forgiveness?” I found my inner bitch and blinked away the tears, “Does your girlfriend know you’re here?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He finally spoke of that woman, “She was never my girlfriend, she was just…just…” he huffed and shifted his weight, “Would you please just take the money?”

“Why not? She was cute.” I kept the conversation on that piece of angel food cake, just to make him squirm.

“Yeah, well, she can’t pull of a dress like that one.” He smirked as he made the comment about my dress. I had to bite my lip to keep the smile from growing, although it may have peeked out. “Red is your color.” He said it in a darker tone, one that got me thinking about what he was possibly thinking about.

“Is it now?” I raised a brow, matching his confidence.

“Red is feisty, it’s classy but it’s hot, means danger.” He gave another crooked grin, “Yes, it suits you.” I licked my red lips and couldn’t hide the grin any longer. There was a heat growing in my body from him looking at me and talking to me like that. He held up the money again. “Just take it.”

I had to think. I wanted the money, hell I wanted him. But I had to deny both, my pride wasn’t going to let me take his pity money, or whatever else he was thinking about giving me. God knows I could have used both. Money doesn’t grow on trees, and taking care of your own needs isn’t as fun as letting someone else make your toes curl. This man knew me, he had to know he couldn’t win me over that easily. I boldly stepped forward, closing in on him as I gently took the money from his hand, I felt instant heat when my fingers made contact with his. Oh how I missed that heat. He kept his eyes on my face, even as I stood close enough for him to kiss me. I knew he wouldn’t kiss me, but I couldn’t stop looking at his lips, those lips that I missed so much. While our eyes stayed solely on each other, I reached my other hand for the pocket in his jeans. I pulled it open with one finger, and I slowly but deliberately shoved the money back into his pocket. The heat radiating between us was like heaven and hell all at the same time. If we had kissed at that moment, it would have been amazing, enough to scorch what was left of my sanity.

“Stop flirting and start mopping!” the woman at the bar called out to me, breaking me from my trance. Steve pulled away from me as he shoved his hands in his pockets, as if showing the bartender that he was in fact keeping his hands to himself. He cut his eye at me playfully and shook his head.

“So stubborn.” He said it smoothly, like I hadn’t just ruffled his feathers. I knew I had. “Alright.” He nodded slightly as he began to walk away. “They really make you mop in that dress?” he playfully asked me. I shrugged, not wanting to say anything else that might ruin my moment of triumph. He took some steps backwards before pivoting and walking out of the door, leaving me with a sneaky suspicion that I was going to see him again. I couldn’t help but grin to myself as I turned back to my task, something inside of me glowing and hopeful after our exchange.

However, sometime between him leaving and me getting on the bus, most likely while I was mopping, my grin disappeared and all I could think about was how stupid I was. He wasn’t really back for more than anything but to see how deeply I had fallen over my head. Back to the same job, flirting with strange men to get a tip, struggling. Struggling because I didn’t have him around to stop my pride from burying me, to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. Every time I was in trouble, he was there. Just not anymore. Why was I so stupid? That money would have helped, I really could have used that money, instead I would be sucking up to some ugly guy with smelly breath, forcing a wink as I passed him a cheap drink in hopes of a twenty-dollar tip. And then I would have to do it again, and again, and again… until I broke. More than that, I let him walk away, again. I kicked him out and slammed the door in his face, I let him walk away after getting his things and leaving my kitchen bare, I let him walk out of that bar, even after he showed me he still may have had some sort of feelings.

Of course he didn’t. That was me being hopeful for something that was never going to happen. I blew it. I was alone.

The bus dropped me off and I made the long and melancholy climb up to my lonely apartment, ignoring the aching in my feet and ankles from my strappy red heels. As I climbed the last couple steps, I noticed a large figure on the floor in the hallway just to the side of my door. There was Steve, again, sitting on the floor, waiting for me. I stopped in my tracks, not at all expecting to see him there, and when he realized I had shown up, he quickly got to his feet. I couldn’t believe it, he was waiting for me, at what used to be our apartment. I slowly approached, not knowing what to say, or do, or expect, but luckily he started the conversation for me.

“Late night?” his voice was soft, like maybe he was wondering what he was doing there too.

“Hello again.” I greeted him with my keys in my hand, but I stood there staring at him instead of unlocking my door.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what time you would be getting back, and I, uh…” he trailed off and looked around the hallway. I eyed him, suspiciously.

“What are you doing here?” I questioned him.

“I, uh,” he paused again, “I paid your rent.”

“You what?” my eyes got wide and I almost dropped my keys. Surely he didn’t really pay my rent.

“After you refused to take the money, I came back here and gave it to the landlord.” He nodded as he finished. His tone sounded confident, but his body language showed he was just as uneasy as I was.

“Why would you do that?” I asked, a little louder than I meant to.

“Because I wanted to.” He finally looked me directly in the eye, and then we both fell silent again. What was there to say?

“Thank you.” I swallowed my attitude long enough to thank him, even though it left me feeling rather pathetic. It was bittersweet, I appreciated his help, although I didn’t want it. What did this mean? The thought to actually go into my apartment and get out of those shoes popped back into my head and I walked up to the door and stuck my key in the lock. “Do you…want to come in?” I offered. He wasn’t moving, which told me he didn’t have any intention of leaving, and he used to live there anyway, so what did it matter?

“Sure.” He agreed as he followed me inside.

It was awkward, but at the same time, it seemed really familiar. I tossed my keys on the tiny table and leaned against the wall while I hastily took my heels off. I groaned as the shoes finally slipped off of my feet, thank the good Lord, because my feet were killing me. It didn’t occur to me until I was almost done removing my second shoe that I was bent over in that short dress, and he was standing behind me. Oops, oh well, nothing he hadn’t seen before. I padded over into the kitchen with my bare feet, the coolness of the linoleum felt wonderful after being in those high heels for so long.

“Want a beer?” I offered him a drink.

“You don’t have rent money, but you have money for beer?” he tried to be humorous, but it wasn’t funny.

“Actually no,” I retorted as I opened the fridge and bent down to reach inside and pull out one of the beers from the bottom shelf. “You left them and I just haven’t thrown them out yet.” I gave him the honest truth. Why I had left them in there I wasn’t sure, but they proved to come in handy at that moment. After also pulling out a bottle of chilled white wine I closed the fridge with my elbow and handed him the beer. He very willingly took it and used something on his keychain to pop the top. I popped the cork out of my wine bottle and didn’t even bother looking for a glass, I took a long, refreshing pull right from the bottle, ignoring the ring of lipstick I left. He chuckled at me.

“Long day?”

“Long month.” I leaned against the counter and took another sip. He finally pressed the beer to his lips and I caught myself staring at him, not so much him, but those lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped it down, and I saw the hue of pink on his skin. He was nervous. I distracted myself with more of my wine.

“Yeah it’s been a long month.” He agreed after swallowing his drink. I know what he meant, because I meant it too. This was Steve’s way of agreeing with me, that this break up had been hard on both of us. I felt bad for him, I really did, but I felt a little worse for myself. True it had been over a month now, but this past month seemed to just be harder, like the weight of it all finally hit me, or hit us both.

“I’ll pay you back.” My voice almost didn’t make it out past my lips.

“No,” he looked down and shook his head, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well I have to give you something.”

“You did.” He smiled as he held up the lowly beer. The beer he had bought himself and left in the fridge. Such a dork.

“Is that beer worth eight hundred and fifty bucks?” I raised a brow. He laughed, and it made my tingle from head to toe.

“Actually, your landlord said the rent went up again. He said he sent out letters but judging by that pile of mail over there,” he pointed to the pile of envelopes on top of the table next to the door, the one I placed my keys on despite the growing mound of papers, “I’m guessing you didn’t get it.” I was never good at opening my mail.

“Shit.” I cursed and rolled my eyes. “How much?”

“Eight ninety-five.” He informed me.

“Damn it!” I cursed again, “Why not just make it nine hundred? Does he think he’s doing me a favor by allowing me to keep an extra five bucks?” This just added to my stress. I couldn’t even begin to figure out how I was going to afford the place by myself. I shook my head and started willing myself not to cry, but I was failing. I felt the tears welling and looked away, pressing the neck of the wine bottle against my lips but not tipping it to drink. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” My voice did little to hide the fact that I was close to breaking down.

“You could look for a roommate.” Steve offered.

“I hate having roommates.” I quickly wiped a tear away before it could tumble down my cheek.

“I know you do, and I’m sure it would be hard to find one.” He paused as he drank from his beer again, “I mean, you’re messy, you use foul language, you don’t like doing dishes…” he started rambling off a list of my not-so-great traits. I cut my eye at him, and he winked at me. What a charming jerk he was being. I scoffed and shook my head. “You might as well start looking for a house for the price of rent here.”

“Yeah a lot of good a house will do me.”

“Buy a fixer-upper, save yourself some money.”

“I can’t even hammer a nail correctly.”

“No big deal, you decorate, I’ll do all the hard work.” He spoke those words without even flinching. I knew what he was doing. He must have been planning to butter me up and somehow just slip himself back in, back into this apartment, back into my life. It should have been music to my ears, God knows I wanted him back, but how can two people move on after how badly we fell out?

“I throw your stuff off the balcony, you empty everything in the kitchen, and now we just go buy a house together like nothing ever happened?” I questioned him, now letting my tears fall as they pleased. He set his beer down and looked at me, really looked at me, like he was ready to talk from the heart.

“I know…” he started and paused to think, “I know things ended badly. And I know we can’t take back what we did, or what we said, but that doesn’t mean we can’t move forward, or start fresh.”

“So you’re saying you want me back?” I tried to lay on my usual attitude, but I wasn’t doing a good job.

“Yes, I do.” His reply had my heart singing, but it felt too good to be true.

“What changed? What happened to that pretty little piece of—”

“Would you just stop?” he interrupted me and I closed my mouth, “I’m here because of you. I miss you. I miss us. I think we can make it work…but you have to try with me. I can’t do all the heavy lifting.”

“And just like that I’m supposed to take you back?”

“Come on baby,” he called me by one of my usual pet names, “Don’t do this. Let’s just start over. Please.” His eyes were pleading with me. And something in those ocean blue eyes made me break.

“Fine.” And then I sniffled back more tears, “I’m sorry.” I wiped more tears away.

“I’m sorry too.” He matched my apology. “I’ll try harder to make more time for us. And in return, maybe you could work on your temper a bit?” he eased that last part in gently, trying not to upset me more.

“I don’t have a temper!” I raised my voice, and he raised a brow at me. Point taken. “Fine. I will.” He smiled.

“Alright…good.” He held his arms open to me, “Now come here.” I hesitated as I wiped my eyes more. He gave me a playful pout. “Please?”

I could have leaped into his arms, but I didn’t, I still had to save face for some reason. But I did walk into his arms and embraced him, and he wrapped his strong arms around me in return. God it felt amazing, it made me feel warm and safe. I missed being against his chest, and in his arms. He smelled amazing, and I breathed in his scent, deep until it filled my head. I felt him place a kiss on my forehead, another thing I missed dearly. Even though I complained that he wasn’t around enough, he made me feel adored. Perhaps I was being selfish, I knew I had to share him with the world, he was a hero, but he was my hero too, and I wanted him with me more than anything. He was right, along with my temper, it was something I would have to work on.

“So they really made you mop the floors in this dress?” his voice rumbled against my body and I chuckled a bit.

“It’s a job, I guess.” I pulled away from him slightly and looked up at his face, and he didn’t waste a second leaning in and placing his lips on mine. It was a quick and simple kiss, and it wasn’t enough to satisfy either one of us. He kissed me again, slowly, wrapping his lips around my top lip and giving me goosebumps. “Does this mean,” he kissed me again, “I can quit?”

“Now I didn’t say that.” He teased me before kissing me again, this time with more heat and more vigor. The butterflies in my stomach turned into heat that slowly seeped all over my body. I was such a sucker for the way he kissed me, that damn mouth of his was my kryptonite. “But maybe you could leave this dress for different occasions. It’s not a work dress.” And he leaned in to kiss me again, but this time I surprised him with a little tongue, touching it to his bottom lip before sucking on him, and he groaned a bit.

“I thought you said it looks good on me.” The words rushed out, as if I was trying to race against the heat that was taking over my entire body, I was already growing wetter by the second.

“Oh it does,” he purred against my lips as he let his hands slip down onto my ass, and he gave me a firm squeeze, “But it would look much better on the floor.” I took the opportunity to make fun of his cheesy line by pulling myself away from his lips and playfully gasping at him.

“Captain Rogers!” I lightheartedly scolded him, “You don’t usually talk to women like that.” And I innocently slapped at his chest.

“It’s been a while, alright?” he gave me an exasperated look, and then he grit his teeth and looked me up and down again. “Now take off this dress.” He spoke through gritted teeth, almost demanding that I strip. The way he was looking at me was telling me he was in need, and I couldn’t deny I needed it too. I walked out of his arms, giving him a playful glare. I had something he wanted, and I was going to use it to my advantage. I leaned against the opposite counter, turned and pushed my ass out to him while I drank more of my wine.

“I don’t care much for make-up sex.” I announced to him.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” He huffed as he rushed up behind me and pinched my left cheek, making me squeal. “Such a tease.” And then his hand found the zipper on the back of my dress and he yanked it down without an ounce of grace.

As soon as the fabric fell away from my shoulders, he had his mouth on me again. His kisses were warm and wet, the smacking sound his lips made when they left my skin fell onto my ears and made me even wetter. His large hands hastily shoved the dress further down and off of my body, causing it to fall at my feet, exposing me in nothing more than my matching silk panties. His hungry, opened mouth kisses were replaced with a sharp bite at my neck, and I jumped.

“Hey!” I complained about his roughness.

“A little payback for throwing my stuff off the balcony.” He breathed into my ear as his hands roamed all over me, his fingers reading my skin and goosebumps like it was braille.

I moaned and rolled my head back onto him, God it felt good. And then his fingers grazed up my torso, onto my breasts, where he gave me another firm squeeze and pulled me back against his chest. He gave me another wet kiss on my neck. I wanted to snap something back at him for his little payback quip, but my brain was too preoccupied on what his mouth was doing to me. As if that wasn’t enough, his fingers found my hardening nipples and he starting to roll and pinch them. The need seared through my veins and shot straight down to my womanhood, and my inner muscles clenched, needing attention, needing to be filled. I moaned and puffed out my chest, aching for more attention. His fingers didn’t cease on my poor aching buds, and his lips and teeth kept working on my neck and shoulder, the chill of the air on my naked skin combined with his work and had me squirming.

When he felt satisfied with his work, he released my pert nipples and slid his hands down my body again, his fingers found their way to that magic spot between my thighs, and he rubbed me through the silk. I moaned again and started squirming more, I hated how slow he was going, and I knew he was more than ready to get to the good part, I could feel his erection pressed against the back of me. I spun around to face him and was met by his hot mouth again, it was fierce and forceful on mine, claiming my mouth and the air from my lungs. I bit his bottom lip, testing him, telling him I still had my power. He upped the ante by dropping to his knees and laying a wanton kiss on my pelvis before gripping my panties between his pretty white teeth, and he slowly, seductively, pulled them down my legs. The feeling of his hot breath and teeth tracing down my body made me shiver from head to toe, and my fingers found their way into his golden hair upon his trip back up my body. With the little strength I had against his, he allowed me to keep him on his knees with his mouth hovering in front of my soaking pussy. He read my mind, but instead of staying down on his knees, he slid his hands back up to my ass and swiftly picked me up as he stood, and set me down gently on the counter I was leaning against. His hands gripped my thighs and he forced my legs open, exposing my sex to him in full view.

“Hungry?” I tempted him further.

“Starving.” He growled at me without taking his eyes off of the prize. He licked his lips before ducking his head down and getting to business.

He placed the flat of his tongue against my lips and drew one long, slow drag up my lips. A few more laps of his tongue had me moaning, until he used the tip of his tongue to flick my clit, then I was practically singing. He continued to pluck at my nerves, making my muscles contract and relax, sending me closer and close to the edge. I puffed, and moaned, and mewled as he drew tiny circles around my tiny button. My fingers gripped his blonde hair tightly and held him in place, begging for him to keep going. He sucked my clit between his lips and my hips started bucking against his face, God his mouth was so amazing. I felt him slip a single digit into me without any resistance, and I moaned his name. After thrusting his finger once or twice, he slipped another one in while simultaneously flicking his tongue on me again. The delight continued to grow when his two fingers began to massage my g-spot, sending me further and further into ecstasy.

“Oh God…” I moaned and pushed on his head more. I wanted more, needed more, of him, of what he was doing to me. His free hand reached up and played with my right breast, finding my nipple and tweaking it again. The sensation from his fingers and the tingling I was getting from his mouth met in my core. “Oh my God, I’m gonna come.” I whined at him, begging for that sweet release. But he pulled his mouth and fingers off of me, denying me from my growing climax. I groaned, “Come on! Don’t stop.”

“Not yet, baby.” He panted to me as he started to undo his belt and fly. This part was almost like getting a gift on your birthday. His fingers moved quickly but ineptly, his eagerness getting the best of him. “I need to be inside you.” His pants dropped and he lifted his shirt, showing off his hard rod, stiff, veiny and waiting to be shoved deep inside of me. It practically made my mouth water, seeing the length, the girth, the pink head. I bit my lip playfully and giggled at him.

“Is that for me?” teasing him always made him more assertive, more aggressive, which was just what I wanted.

“You know you missed it.” His low voice rumbled back at me as he lined up and positioned himself. The head of his dick rested against my wet folds only for a quick moment, and then he pushed inside, slowly and deliberately, making sure I felt every inch of him. My greedy cunt quivered as it stretched to accommodate him, his size was greater than the toy I had been using in his absence.

“Fuuuuuck…” I moaned as he buried himself inside of me completely. The tip of his dick hit my cervix in a way that was both painful and delectable. Full of need and lust I reached out and wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled his lips to mine again for a wet, messy kiss. He expertly adjusted me on top of the counter, putting me in the optimal position to be rammed into. “I missed you.” I breathed to him after my lips released his, and he started thrusting into me. No time was wasted on starting off slow, he got right to setting a good rhythm.

“I missed you too.” He returned my heartfelt words, perhaps a little misplaced since we were getting down to the good part. I watched his face contort as he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of my pussy on him.

“I bet you missed this pussy.” Dirty talk either got him going harder or annoyed him, both of which I enjoyed. When he ignored me and kept thrusting I decided to play with him a little harder. “That’s really why you came back, right?” The look of absolute pleasure disappeared from his face and he cut his eye at me, and I giggled at him.

“Alright,” he gripped my legs tightly and pulled me closer, effectively shoving himself deeper inside me until there was nothing left to take, and I gave a little yelp. “Enough of that.” He told me he was done with my brashness.

The familiar sound of his pelvis crashing into me fell upon the kitchen as he started to truly fuck me for the first time in a what felt like a long time. First, I had no words, no voice, and not even any breath left in my lungs from his quickness. He grunted and smirked to himself, this was how he liked it, he loved giving it to me so good that there was nothing for me to say. Eventually I thought to breathe, but the air quickly left me again in the form of a pathetic whine. My toy couldn’t compete with the pure masculine power of the super soldier pounding into me. I gasped and mewled again, and he gave a quick “Mmhmm” with a rather cocky nod. My orgasm wasn’t taking long to build, and I could feel my face starting to flush. The feeling of his clothes brushing against my bare skin only added fuel to the flame. This man came back to claim me and he was doing just that. It wasn’t long until I started sounding like some chick in a porno, squealing, moaning and practically hiccupping with pleasure.

“Oh my God…” I droned as I felt my muscles tightening. I was so close, but still wanted more.

“Touch yourself.” His voice commanded me, only shaking slightly from the swift and powerful pounding of his hips. He knew I what I wanted to do. I followed his command and my free hand found my clit, buzzing from what he was doing to me and still echoing the pleasure from his mouth. I rubbed in small circles, inadvertently applying pressure when his pelvis collided with my fingers. I was as good as gone at that point.

“Steve I’m gonna come.” I confessed while panting, the pleasure hitting me so good I swear I had tears welling in my eyes.

“I know you are.” His breathy voice was still low, but it sounded like he was close too. The way my pussy was gripping him, he couldn’t be that far behind. “So stop being so stubborn and come.” He demanded.

Forget talking dirty, I loved when he took charge of me, of my body, and it always did the trick. I went shooting off like a rocket as my orgasm came sweeping over me. I squealed his name over and over again as I trembled, my muscles clamped down on him so hard that I couldn’t believe he was still thrusting into me so sharply. He barely missed a beat. My nails dug into the back of his neck as almost every muscle in my body contracted, I was sure I had marked his skin. But he did not complain, instead he grunted and groaned as he found his own orgasm, chasing the tail of mine. He opened his mouth and let a loud shout escape him while he held onto me, keeping himself buried deep as he painted my inner walls with is hot cum. I watched his face relax as he panted and slowly came down from his high, his hot breath hitting my face and mixing with the air rushing in and out of my lungs just the same. I blinked, and I swear I saw stars somewhere off in the distance.

“Okay,” I breathed out heavily, “I might actually like make-up sex.” He chuckled and put his fevered forehead against mine.

“Should we christen the place all over again?” he questioned me, letting me know he could keep going. I honestly wasn’t sure if I could keep up, but that wasn’t about to stop me.

The End

@fay-1994 @avenger-nerd-mom

#chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #requested fic

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aaronmascoll · 6 years ago

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Chapter 34 - Jackson

Silver was securing the latches on the crate. The pegasus she just acquired sat calmly inside. "You shouldn't have done that," she said in an icy tone.

Jackson noticed everything thing she said she was with a hint of coldness. "It's not a problem, I just wanted to help," Jackson said.

"Your description of help must be different than mine."

Silver finished securing the pegasus inside the crate. Jackson helped push it outside even though he knew she didn't need it. "I just think it kind of sucks Valkyries can only have three children in their lifetime."

"I know," Silver said. "They're a little like humans. If they wait too long they can't have em. And if they want more, they either adopt or resort to other means."

"You know a lot about Valkyries?"

"A little."

"A little? Like what?"

"Well, Valkyries are immortal, but you probably already knew that since you have three of them as your bodyguards. There's also technically nothing human about Valkyries besides their appearance. They're more like a species of bird. Valkyries aren't related to eachother by blood unless they're born in a pair of three. Some flightless and others not. That actually was the cause of a war between them. But your new wife, one of the strongest Valkyrie queens in existence, put a stop to it. She's the whole reason the Valkyries have this peace right now."

"A little?" Jackson said confused.

"Okay I know everything about them," Silver said with a small smile. "I tried adopting one once. They wouldn't let me."

After a moment of silence, that involved Jackson kicking what he thought was a wad of dirt, Silver said, "My business here is done. So, I'll be on my way."

Silver curtseyed again as more of a joke than an actual farewell. "You don't have to do that," Jackson said as he laughed.

"Thanks. Milhouse didn't make me do it either. I know I should happy that he finally completed his task, but I'm kind of sad that he's gone. Now I've got nobody to drink with. It's not like we can get drunk, but still, who doesn't enjoy the taste of a seven thousand-year old whiskey."

Silver climbed up her wyvern's wing and sat on it's back. She whistled and it flapped its large wings until was off the ground. It hovered for a bit before it pick the large wooden crate up with its talons and flew away. As owner of the Valkyrie realm, Jackson was able to watch her leave up until she exited the Valkyrie dimension.

While he was at it Jackson decided to check on the girls. When he spied on Clarissa, he could see she was in some kind of department store, in the lingerie section. She was trying on a pair red lace underwear with a matching camisole. Jackson felt like she knew he was watching her from the way she smiled at herself in the mirror.

After Clarissa, Jackson spied on Marissa. She was walking down the hallway of an apartment building. She eventually stopped in front of a door, where she stopped herself from knocking five times before finally ringing the door bell. Jackson recognized the woman that answered the door. It was the pregnant woman that slapped her the day they arrived. Jackson went through the list of names in his head, and found that hers was Helga. Helga looked at Marissa for a minute. She seemed so angry, Jackson thought she was going to slap Marissa again, but she didn't. Instead, Helga started to cry and kissed Marissa hard on the lips. Jackson decided it was time to check on Alyssa.

Alyssa, it turns out, was at archery range. Jackson watched her pull arrows from a large barrel next to her, and fire them. She fired about fifty shots into one target, and moved on to the next. With out realizing it, Jackson had teleported to her. He stood there silently as she first filled up the bullseye with arrows, then the outer rings, and eventually filling up the entire target. When she moved on to the next target, Jackson decided to test her shooting ability. He made the wind blow fast and hard using his power as owner of the Valkyrie realm. Alyssa waited for a minute. She untied her from the ponytail, and let her hair flow with the wind. She calculated how fast the air the was flowing, and in which direction, using only her hair. She nocked an arrow when she was ready, and shot it up into the wind. The force of the wind carried the arrow back and it hit the target square in the bullseye. "You're a good shot," Jackson said walking to Alyssa's side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"No your not, I can feel it. Your bound to me, remember?"

Alyssa nocked a few arrows, and filled the rest of the bullseye. "Coming back here brings up old memories."

"Like what?"

"School. The academy. Training. My teachers telling me I'll never be the warrior my sisters are. I'm no good with a sword. I can't hold a spear. I was forced to leave, because if I didn't, I would've been tortured and dissected by the elders because they've never seen Valkyrie triplets before." Alyssa stopped firing and looked at Jackson. "You probably don't know this, but I'm one of the few Valkyries that uses a bow. When we've failed at every other type of weapon, the bow is our last chance. Our last chance at being any sort of use on a battlefield. If we fail at that, It's a life of working in a office, warehouse, farm, or restaurant. Sometimes I wish I had failed the academy."

Alyssa went back to shooting arrows at the target and filled it. "You know my sisters and I may look similar, buy there is nothing similar about us. Marissa, as quiet as she be, was supposed to graduate top of her class before we left. Our teachers said she's one of the strongest alphas ever to go through the academy. Clarissa was loved by everyone, and she was the best, second only to Marissa. My sisters our both Alphas who excelled at everything, and I'm just another ordinary Valkyrie whose only talent is never missing a shot."

Alyssa, in a fit of rage, snapped her bow in half and kicked the barrel of arrows. The barrel flew far of into the distance, arrows spewing out as it twists and turned in the air. Alyssa sat down on a bench in front of a bush shaped like an elephant. Jackson sat down next to her and said, "Not all warriors use a weapon. I trained with a man who was a master at fighting without weapons, and against people who used them. It didn't matter what weapon I used, he always beat me. My only way to win, was to beat him at his own game. And let me tell you this, that man was stronger than iron."

"He sounds like a guardian."

"What's a guardian?"

"They're Valkyries that go to a exclusive camp, for alphas only, to recieve special training. The camp is surrounded by a barrier made of time magic so time there passes a lot slower. When the Valkyries finish this training, they're faster, stronger, and tougher. You would have a better chance smashing diamonds with your head than beating one of them."

Jackson observed the smile on Alyssa's face as she spoke about the guardians."What if I told you, I could get you into this camp?"

"But, it's for alphas only!"

Jackson stood up and said, "Just tell them the king sent you." Alyssa jumped up and threw her arms around Jackson. "Before you go, I want you to wear this from now on."

Jackson took off his coat and put it on Alyssa's shoulders. "Jackson, I can't wear this."

"Its okay," Jackson said giving her a reassuring shake. "I find people take me more serious when I'm wearing it, and that's what I want for you. Because I'm making you my new chief of staff."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, just go."

Alyssa ran off, but not before giving Jackson another long hug. When she was gone, Jackson teleported to Sigrun. She was in a bland room that was filled with all kinds of fabrics. Sun filled the room from a window in the back of the room. Sigrun, sat a table in the middle of the room, with a needle in one hand, and a neatly stitched shirt in front of her. Jackson spread himself across a brown leather couch in the window. "Who is that for?" Jackson asked.

"For you," said with a smile. "I'm making you a new wardrobe. You did come here with only one outfit after all."

"I could've just bought new clothes in one of the cities."

"Nonsense. This will give me something to do. You were sleeping so soundly, I decided to take your measurements. If your hungry, there's a lunch for you in the kitchen."

Jackson stood up and gave Sigrun a quick kiss on the cheek. He found his way to the kitchen, and was surprised by the lunch Sigrun had prepared. Dozens of sandwiches on different types of bread were stacked on a large platter on top of the kitchen island. Next to the sandwich platter was a tray of apple slices, carrot sticks, celery sticks, plenty of dipping sauces, and a pitcher of fresh lemonade. Jackson sat on one of the barstools, at the kitchen island, and grabbed himself a few sandwiches. After his second sandwich, Clarissa walked carrying about twenty different size bags. "I see you went shopping," Jackson said.

Clarissa put her bags on the floor, and began to go through them one by one. "Yes I did," Clarissa said with a deviant smile. "I went shopping, just like I always did when we lived here. And I know my sisters enough to know that Aly probably spent the entire morning, mopping, at the archery range like she always did. And Rissa better not have gone to see that vile woman, but, she probably did."

"Maybe that's what she wants," Jackson said in Marissa's defense.

"Let me tell you what my sisters want!" Clarissa kicked over her bags and sat on the barstool next to Jackson. "Aly is the best damn archer the academy has ever trained. I can't count how many times she's saved me and Rissa. But, she won't settle for third place, she wants to be number one, even if it means giving up the one thing she wants the most. One of our academy instructors once told us 'It doesn't matter if your allies are stronger than you, only that you're stronger than your enemies.' And because of that, Aly has always thought that she was the weakest one among us, but she's not. She's a tactician that can win any battle no matter how much the odds are stacked against her. She just can't win a against Rissa, no one can. I'll never beat Rissa in a fight, and I'm perfectly fine with that. Because, it only reassures me that I can count on her to save me when I need her to. I just wish Aly could she herself the way that we do."

"I think, she doesn't want to be number one, she just wants to win. Just once, and she'll be satisfied."

"You keep talking about what she wants. What do you want?"

"Nothing, believe it or not."

"There's got to be something. You didn't travel the world, and learn every fighting style known man, just to do nothing."

Jackson sat there and thought very carefully about his next choice of words. He thought about how Clarissa chose to bind herself to him. She chose to put his life before her own. Jackson had traveled the world for a single purpose, and if he couldn't trust Clarissa, something was seriously wrong with him. "Okay, but to understand why I traveled the world there's something else I have to tell you."

Clarissa took Jackson's hands in hers and said, "You can trust me."

"This isn't the first time I've been to realm of champions."

#thechampions #excerpt from a book i'll never write #bookstagram #booklover #bookworm #books #bookish #excerpt from a story i'll never write #entertainment #writing #writers #author #keep scrolling #long reads #reading

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jackblankhsh · 6 years ago

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A Blood Red Reindeer Knows -- Part 6: Escape to the Worst

Kung Fu Karl doesn't waste a lot of time with fists. He's got other things in mind, delights to satisfy anger ten years brewing. As such, it isn't long before he sends the other Action Figures to get his "kit."

He tells me, "I've had time to practice. Cheaters, thieves, and the general gutter trash we can't avoid here. But I was always thinking of you."

"I'm flattered."

Karl chuckles, "What'd you think was gonna happen when you got here?"

Drooling blood, I shrug. Black Jack's Cooler is the one spot in the whole North Pole, probably the world, where any person can hide from Big Red. He sees anyone anywhere any time he wants. This place, though, for reasons no one knows, is off the grid. The cops also tend to make this the last place they check. Black Jack pays them to, though whatever crooked deal he's got with Big Red is beyond me.

Kung Fu Karl glances at his watch. Somehow he looks more sour than usual.

He says, "Where are those idiots with my gear?"

I say, "They can take their time."

A sound rumbles down the hall. It sounds familiar, but my brain is too scrambled to make sense of it. Kung Fu Karl recognizes it straight away. He pulls out a gun. The sound comes again. This time I realize it's a shotgun blast.

The door bursts open. An Action Figure staggers inside covered in blood. His eyes roll up into his head. He collapses, but he's dead before he hits the floor, a gaping wound in his back pouring red.

Karl hurries out. The door swings out before him. The moment it does I hear that shotgun blast. When the door swings back there's blood all over it.

I can hear footsteps. The door opens slowly. Roy Glitterspark marches in carrying a pump action shotgun, and wearing a long trench coat.

I don't know if I've lucked out, or am still in serious trouble. Using a key Glitterspark unfastens one of my cuffs.

He snorts, "I don't see why we need you."

"Me neither."

He throws the key at my chest. It lands in my lap. Then, without another word, Glitterspark vanishes out the door.

Unlocking the other cuff takes longer than I care to admit. One eye swollen shut, and my brain not exactly firing on all cylinders -- I've rarely felt more successful than grabbing hold of that tiny key. After popping free I stand, a little too quick.

My body feels like a stick of butter in an oven, slowly softening into a puddle. It's very tempting to go with that feeling. Following it leads to a black pool, a place I can float without pain, or worries. But there's too much to do.

So I push on.

Stumbling into the hall I find Kung Fu Karl. His head is gone. Not far off is an Action Figure. Not far from him is another body. Following them like macabre breadcrumbs I start wondering if the whole damn casino got massacred.

The trail leads to a basement office. The fanciness of the room suggests the rumors are true. Black Jack liked to have two offices in the casino. The one upstairs allowed him to be seen with those who -- let's say -- elevated his status. Politicians, celebrities, rich folks, anyone whom it'd be good to be seen with in public. However, in the casino basement, a second office went into play whenever Black Jack needed to do business with the North Pole's underbelly.

Still, the room is a magnificent setup. Big Red's got to be the only person with a fancier office. The only thing marring the scene is Black Jack in his desk chair.

Just like with Collodi, Glitterspark didn't fool around. There are four holes each about the size of a fist in Black Jack's body. Coming around the desk I find a gun still in his hand. I can't help admiring that.

But now's not the time.

Quick as I can, which isn't quick enough, I go through Black Jack's desk. I take everything that seems even vaguely helpful. That said, might as well be a vacuum sucking up the desk's contents.

Pockets full I make my way out. Unfortunately, I don't know the underground well enough to risk wandering around. So against my better judgment I take an elevator to the casino floor.

I'm expecting the door to open, and cops, or Action Figures to be there. Guns drawn they unload into me, and I don't have to worry about any of this shit anymore. Too bad my luck holds out. When the doors open, the casino is carrying on blissfully unaware of the bloodbath below.

Outside someone comes running at me. My vision is still blurry.

I say, "Sorry, Cari, guess I ain't coming home."

The person coming at me says, "S'cuse me, sir?"

I blink. What looked like a hitman in a blue coat turns out to be the parking valet.

"Never mind," I say. Fishing in my pocket, I can't find the ticket to save my life.

"Rough night?" he asks.

"What gave it away?"

"Maybe just tell me what your car looks like?"

"Thanks," I sigh, "It's a motorcycle."

"We only got one of those tonight." Like lightning he's gone. In a minute my beautiful ride is rumbling in front of me. Getting on slowly, I wonder how many times the valet's seen this kind of exit. Probably a lot.

The valet says, "Hope things are better tomorrow."

"That's always the way ain't it?"

A short while later I'm going into Kaye's diner on Rosemary Boulevard. A waitress named Vera almost faints when she sees me.

Jutting a thumb at my bike I say, "Don't ever ride one of those."

She asks, "Sugar, do you need a doctor?"

"Only to get my head examined." Pointing to the back I ask, "Mind if I sit there?"

"Sit anywhere you like."

Shuffling my way I'm glad the place is mostly empty. Still, I worry about whatever glances come my way. In a weird way Karl and Jack did me a favor. My face is too messed up for anyone to recognize from the mug shot popping up on TV screens, and newspapers. Even the trademark red nose is probably getting mistaken for a bloody mess.

By the time I sit Vera is already hovering with a cup of hot chocolate.

Setting it down she gently pats me on the shoulder, "Hope you like cocoa."

I tell her, "You read my mind."

She smiles, "I put in something with a little extra kick."

"I'd wink, but I can't." The joke makes her look sadder, so quickly I add, "Thanks. There aren't enough like you in the world."

Placing a menu on the table she tells me to take my time. So I take a few sips. Whatever she put in the mug definitely kicks. When the cup's half empty I start feeling pretty good. Well enough to get down to business.

Dumping the contents of my pockets on the table I frown. A lot of it appears to be nothing more than business papers. Even the illegal stuff doesn't offer any leads.

In an envelope I find several photos. Most of them are faces I don't recognize. However, the few I do tell me this is what I've been looking for. Vixen is in one of them. Some show people gathering in out of the way places: guys in three piece suits meeting with gutter punks; ladies in fancy cars getting dropped off at shady tenements; anxious clusters of folks huddled under a bridge. The last picture is of some kind of face. Not an elf, or a toy, it looks like a horned goat with a long tongue.

On the back of the photo someone's written, "If we figure this out first that fat bastard will owe us big."

My stomach growls. I can't remember the last time I ate. So I wave Vera over.

"What's good?" I ask.

"Not much, but what is is the best."

"Then bring me the best you got."

"Sure thing."

While I wait I spread out the photos. I let my good eye drift. I keep thinking when I'm not looking that's when I'll see what I need to. Lost in the search I jump when Vera returns, plates clattering onto the table.

She's quick to say, "Sorry, honey, didn't mean to scare ya."

"No worries," I say.

She's brought pancakes, hash browns, and a steaming cup of apple-spice breakfast soup. There isn't much room with the photos all over, so I sweep them to one side. However, one catches her eye.

Pointing at it she says, "You looking for that building?"

It's the photo of the goat face. Near as I can tell this picture was taken under a bridge.

So I ask, "What building?"

Vera replies, "There's a building, not far from here. I pass it on my way to the bus. It's got that on the side."

"What is this?"

She shrugs, "Don't know. Kids call it the Krampus mark."

I ask where the building is. She gives me the address. Then I dig into the meal. It's as delicious as she promised, but over too soon. Afterwards I get the check. Fortunately, I snagged a fat wad of cash from Black Jack's desk, so I leave Vera a rather generous tip. It's the least I can do. Then I head to the building with the Krampus mark.

#wrting #writer #fiction #shortstory #neo-noir #Neopulp #pulpfiction #reindeer #honestyisnotcnotagious #weird #mystery #rudolph the reindeer #krampus #writing

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frompixietodragon · 7 years ago

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Daughters of Mischief (1?/)

Based on an imagine from imagine-loki where the main character is the adoptive mother of twins, Loki’s twins. Eventually, he comes to get them aaand... read to find out.

Lilly put her head in her hands and leaned against the table as she read the latest reports the school had sent home. Jenny and Mary had gotten their third referral from the principal this week and Lilly didn’t think she could take it any longer.

She knew her daughters were prone to mischief, especially when they had turned eight and their magic emerged. It had been a long seven years of learning and understanding their magic, but Lilly had managed to teach the girls to use it for good, and not to hurt anyone or each other with it.

But lately, the fifteen year old girls have been using their magic for mischief, all kinds, including using it to prank the children in their grade and it often ended with Lilly in the principals office.

She had to have a talk with the girls, especially regarding this last “incident” as the principal called it. The two of them had apparently pushed a student in the cafeteria without actually touching him. And they had pushed him so hard the student had fallen from the table and sprained his wrist.

Lilly leaned back in the kitchen chair and waited for the two girls to get home from school. She knew she had to talk with them about their magic, but she didn’t want the girls to feel like using their magic was bad.

Lilly loved that Jenny and Mary were special. She was glad that she had chosen the two of them to adopt instead of just one child, because who knows where the twins might have ended up if Lilly hadn’t adopted them.

The woman at the adoption agency said that the girls had come from up north, no specific address, only that a strange woman called them for help, then never heard from her again. So, Lilly didn’t really have much to tell the girls about their real mother, not that they ever brought it up.

The girls knew they were adopted. They had figured it out when they came into their magic, and Lilly confirmed it, telling them they were her daughters, no matter what. The differences in appearance seemed quite obvious as well, both twins had black hair and green eyes, where Lilly had auburn hair and brown eyes. Both girls had sharper features, their faces holding nearly none of the baby fat they once had, instead they were both already beautiful girls.

Lilly heard the bus stop in front of the house and she sighed. She really didn’t want to confront her children, but they had to be more careful with their magic.

When the door opened, Lilly stood from the table and smiled at the girls as they came in. Jennifer came in first, her long black hair was braided to the side, revealing her pierced ears and the gold necklace she always wore. Marilyn came in behind her sister, closing the door and kicking off her shoes. Her hair was shorter than Jenny’s and liked to keep it at shoulder level instead of how Jenny liked it.

“Hey, Mom,” Mary said as the girls headed for the stairs that would lead them to their room.

“Wait! Can you both come here, please?” Lilly asked, watching the girls give each other a look. Sometimes she swore they could read each other’s minds, because she could practically see the silent conversation happening between the two. Once they were both in the kitchen, Lilly leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

“Wanna tell me what happened in school today?” She asked, raising her eyebrow as the girls stood awkwardly in the kitchen. A moment of silence fell between them before Mary spoke up, using her soft voice to answer Lilly’s questions.

“Nothing, Mom. Why?” She questioned, her head tilting somewhat to the side as Mary attempted to give her the “innocent eyes” as Lilly liked to call them. Both the girls had mastered the “innocent eyes” and were even better at trying to trick her into believing they were innocent. But, after fifteen years with her girls, she could more or less determine when they were trying to trick her.

“Jennifer? Do you have anything to say? The truth perhaps?” Lilly said. Jenny looked to Mary with a sort of “told you so” look and then looked back to her mom.

“The kid we pushed today was bullying us. We’ve told people that we were adopted and he said that we were freaks and it was a surprise that you haven’t given us up yet.” Jenny explained as Mary looked down at the ground.

“So you used your magic to push him?” Lilly asked, watching both the girls not their heads.

Lilly sighed and stepped forward, “Girls, look at me,” when both of the girls were looking up at Lilly, she took one of Jenny’s hands and one of Mary’s, holding onto them as she spoke.

“You aren’t freaks. You’re special, and I couldn’t ask for better children, because there aren’t any better than you. Your magic makes you special, but you can’t use it like that. What if someone finds out about your magic and takes you away from me? Do you know how heartbroken I’d be if I lost you two?”

She watched the two of them look at each other, then back at Lilly, sadness in their eyes.

“We’re sorry, Momma.” Jenny said as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Lilly’s waist. Mary joined in too and Lilly sighed, wrapping her arms around her girls.

“I know, honey. Just be more careful. Come to me if there’s a problem, I’ll help you fix it, and I’ll get everything cleared with the principal tomorrow. Now, how about we get a movie going and I’ll order some pizza?”

Both girls squealed with excitement and ran off to the living room to get a movie picked out. Lilly ordered a pizza to be delivered, and once it got to the house, all three of them sat down and enjoyed Jumanji for the hundredth time. By the time the pizza was gone and the movie was over, both girls had fallen asleep on the couch and Lilly wad nearly at the point of dozing off herself.

A knock came from the front door and Lilly frowned, it was almost ten at night. Who would be coming to their house at such a late hour? She stood up and put the paper plates into the pizza box, tossing it in the kitchen before she walked barefoot to the front door.

She looked through the windows beside the door and saw a strange man standing in front of her door. He wore a black tailored suit with green accents and his black hair had been slicked back. Who the hell was this guy?

Lilly unlocked the door and opened it, noticing that the man’s green eyes focused on her the minute it opened. She stood in the doorway, frowning at the stranger.

“Can I help you, sir?” She asked as she crossed her arms and looked him up and down. This stranger was attractive, she could admit that. His black suit was made of fine material, and it was fitted to his body perfectly. He had one hand in the pocket of his trousers, and the other was held out for her to take.

“My name is Loki. I would like to speak to you about the twins.” Lilly looked down at his hand and she took it, shaking it for a second before she said, “What about them?”

“I would like to see them.” He stated, removing his hand from his pocket and crossing the two behind his back. Lilly leaned back and said, “Um, I don’t know who you are, so I don’t feel comfortable letting you see them.”

Anger crossed his face as she spoke and it made her step back and grab the edge of the door. She watched him bring his hands in front of him and a glowing green orb emitted from between his hands. She stopped in the middle of closing the door, she recognized that magic.

“Mom?” She heard from behind her. It was Jenny, standing in the doorway of the living room and the hallway, trying to look past her to see the stranger at the door.

“Who is it?” Mary asked, coming to stand beside her sister. Lilly looked back out the door to see if Loki was still there, but when she turned, he was no longer there. She stepped out to see if he had perhaps left, but when she didn’t see him, she turned around and closed the door, locking it as well.

But when Lilly turned back to see the girls, she jumped when she saw Loki standing between her and the twins.

“Mom?” Mary said, her voice sounded confused and Lilly pushed her way past Loki to stand in front of the girls.

“He has magic, like ours.” Jenny said, stepping to the side of Lilly. She put her hand out and Lilly watched as a light green mist floated around her hands, just like she’s seen come from Loki a few moments ago.

“I’ve come from Asgard to look for my children. A friend of mine tracked them down and I am here to return them to their rightful home.” Loki stated as he watched Jenny move the magic along her arm.

“You’re here to take them?” Lilly asked, disgust evident in her voice and on her face. Both the girls clung to Lilly as they heard why he had come, and she could feel the buzzing of the girls’ magic.

For a second, she could see the shimmering force field around the three of them, then the shimmering disappeared as it settled around them. Loki raised his eyebrow as he noticed how the twins protected their adopted mother.

He tilted his head, slightly confused that the two of them would protect such a stranger to them. He was their father, their blood. Yet they chose to protect the woman with no relation to them? He crossed his hands behind his back again and reached out magically to both of them.

He felt his magic move past their weak force field and he spoke mentally to both the girls.

‘I do not wish to harm any of you. I merely wanted to find my daughters. Your mother left when you were still in her womb. Her dying wish was for me to find you, and I have. I would like to bring you to my home, Asgard, so you may be trained and live the lives you should have had.’

Both girls looked to each other before they communicated back to him.

‘We would like to learn magic…’ Jenny began.

’…but we won’t leave our mother here,’ Mary continued.

Loki sighed, ‘She may come with us to discuss the terms of custody.’

Lilly watched as they had a silent conversation, one that she was dying to be part of. She wanted to know what he was saying to her daughters, and what they were saying back. All she could think about was losing them, and that was something she didn’t want.

When she watched the green shimmering field around them disappear, she turned to the girls and they both grabbed a hand of hers.

“Mom, we think we should go with him, all three of us.” Mary said. Lilly looked to the man in front of them and said, “I’m coming too?”

“They were very insistent that you came along to discuss their stay. So, pack what you wish and we will leave shortly.” He told the women standing in front of him. He was still so shocked by the protectiveness of this woman for his children.

The two girls ran up the stairs to get a bag packed, and Lilly stood in the hall with him.

“I never got your name,” Loki stated as he watched Lilly try to cope with what was actually happening.

“It’s Lilly,” she told him, “and I didn’t get much a chance to tell you before you demanded to take my children.”

Loki sighed and said, “If I wanted go make this difficult for you, I could’ve just taken them. From school, from the bus, even from here when you were all asleep. I figured this was going to be the best way to gain their trust.”

Lilly crossed her arms and said, “I’m not going to leave them. They’re my children. So however long they stay in Asgard or wherever you’re taking them, I’m coming too. And I’m not leaving without them.”

“They are not yours by blood.” He stated.

“But it doesn’t make us any less of a family.” She argued.

This caused him to frown. The furrowing of his eyebrows looked quite cute on him, Lilly observed as she watched him. She would’ve even said he was attractive had it not been for the fact he was trying to steal her children.

Lilly turned to walk up the stairs, and before she made it all the way to the top, she called down to him to make himself comfortable. She didn’t know if he truly would, or if he would end up standing in the front hallway until all three girls were ready to leave.

Lilly had gotten a bag packed of random clothes, hoping the weather in Asgard wouldn’t be too different from the spring they were currently experiencing. She made a few phone calls, one to the school board, saying the twins were taking a few weeks off from school, and one to her job, telling them she needed her vacation days early for a family emergency.

Once she had her bag packed, she met the girls down in the living room, where Loki had taken it upon himself to wander around and look at things, picking them up and looking at them. Like the family picture of the three of them at the beach last summer. Or the one where the girls were still babies and George was still around.

She saw him take particular interest in the picture with George and rolled her eyes. When he sensed she was in the room with him, he turned and asked her who he was to the girls.

“That’s George, my ex. We adopted the girls together. When they turned two, he got fed up and went off with his girlfriend. We got a divorce and I get child support checks until they turn sixteen, as requested by him in court.”

He hummed in response and put down the picture, turning instead to walk out the front door, motioning for us to follow him. Lilly followed, locking up behind them, then catching up to the three.

Loki stopped to stand in the middle of the road and gathered everyone closely together. He looked up and shouted to the sky.

“Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!”

For a moment nothing happened, then there was a loud popping noise and a large beam of light was emitted by the sky.

“I suggest you hold on,” Loki said as he smiled at the three startled women. The twins grabbed onto his sleeve and Lilly locked her arms around the two girls, focusing more on keeping them safe.

The next thing they knew, their feet were swept off the ground and they were flying through space. Lilly only got to see a second of it before her feet were planted firmly on the ground again. She caught Jenny before she fell and watched Loki smirk at the distortion the three of them felt.

Lilly looked around, noting they were in a large, golden dome. She saw a man standing atop a small golden platform, and she realized this must be Heimdall. He was a giant man wearing all gold, which seemed to contrast marvelously against his dark skin.

“Welcome to Asgard.” He said in a deep, rumbling voice. Lilly nodded in thanks and the girls quickly moved to hide behind their mother.

“Come,” Loki said, bringing them to the entrance of the dome. When the walls shifted enough for them to get out, Lilly stated in awe at the golden city before her.

Loki turned to face the twins and he smiled as he spoke.

“Welcome home.”

#loki #lover #daughters #loki x reader #dad!loki #oc x loki #Loki x mom!reader #loki x oc #daughters of mischief #chapter one #part one

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imagine-loki · 7 years ago

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Daughters of Mischief 1/?

TITLE: Daughters of Mischief CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1/? AUTHOR: whisperriddle ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being the adoptive mother to two powerful (and mischievous) teenaged witches. One day you answer the door to meet a man (Loki) claiming to be the girls’ father, come to take them home with him. RATING: Teen NOTES/WARNINGS: None

The girls knew they were adopted. They had figured it out when they came into their magic, and Lilly confirmed it, telling them they where her daughters, no matter what. The differences in appearance seemed quite obvious as well, both twins had black hair and green eyes, where Lilly had auburn hair and brown eyes. Both girls had sharper features, their faces holding nearly none of the baby fat they once had, instead they were both already beautiful girls.