#I made some twist head bands and meant to bring her one last week but FORGOR...next time

[fandom-imagines-stories]

There With You

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Words: 2532

Summary: A panic attack during the Victor’s tour leaves the reader gasping for breath backstage. Her fiance is able to calm her down, but now she’s afraid that what’s real and what’s pretend will blur together.

Notes: This is another kind of comfort fic based on my own experience, so I hope someone out there can connect with it. I love reading things to help calm myself down, so I hope that my comfort imagines can do that for somebody else. Plus Peeta is one of my comfort characters, so it works out. (Also, the reader has taken Katniss’ place in this scenario. Still love Katniss, but this fit the story)

Warnings: Panic attack, anxiety, the like (This is not a depiction of every kind of panic attack. This is just what I have experienced in the past)

-

None of this was supposed to happen. There wasn’t supposed to be two of you. There weren't supposed to be riots. The romance wasn’t supposed to be real.

Then why was he the only one keeping you from sprinting off that stage?

Peeta’s fingers were intertwined with yours as he spoke to the crowd, keeping you grounded. You tried to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the hundreds of eyes staring up at you. You looked up at the screens and saw her looking back at you. Her. The first person you’d ever killed and you couldn’t even bring yourself to think of her name.

Your breathing hitched and you could feel the squeezing, twisting grip around your throat. No no no not now. Not in front of the entire crowd. What would President Snow do to you if you broke down in front of an entire district? What would he do to Peeta?

“Thank you.” Peeta finished up his speech and a few people in the crowd reluctantly applauded. His eyes locked on your face, seeing a single tear fall down your cheek and he quickly led you off the stage.

He knew that District 9 would be the hardest for you. He still remembered the knife and the blood and the gore. You had killed her to save him. And now you had to live with that for the rest of your life.

The doors closed behind you and you immediately fell back against them, clutching your chest with your free hand. You ripped open the buttons on your high-necked dress, foolishly thinking that it would make it easier to breathe. The invisible hand had closed around your throat, knees crushing down your chest. When you closed your eyes, Clove was on top of you, choking the life out of you slowly, whispering all of the ways she was going to torment Peeta once you were gone.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Haymitch said, his expression a mix of worry and unease. He knew the image of a weak Victor would mean more problems that you weren’t ready to deal with. He remembered what it was like to be under the eye of the Capitol.

“I can’t… I can’t do this. Peeta, I can’t keep-” You gasped in between shaky breaths. Your vision was blurred at the sides and you were gripping the door to keep from collapsing. “I-I-”

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk now.” Peeta said, putting a hand on your cheek. “Can you walk to the train?” You nodded, but couldn’t seem to bring your hands away from the door. Peeta looked back at Haymitch and Effie for a moment before turning back to you. “I’m going to carry you, okay?” You must have nodded because he kissed your cheek before scooping you up in his arms.

Your hands released the door and instead latched onto the lapel of his jacket. Every part of you was shaking and the weight on your chest was only getting heavier.

“P-Peeta.” You cried, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ve got you. We’re almost there.” He tried to hide the crack in his voice, trying to be the strong one for you, but seeing you like this split his heart in half. Haymitch and Effie huddled around you, trying to block the two of you from any prying eyes or cameras.

You didn’t notice when they finally got you onto the train. In your head, you were still on that stage, staring out at the little brothers of the girl you murdered. You thought for sure you were suffocating. Every breath was becoming harder and more painful than the last and the blackness at the edge of your vision was growing.

Peeta sat down, holding you in his lap and gently stroking his fingers through your hair.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You aren’t in the arena. You’re here with me.” He buried his face in your neck, gently pressing a kiss to the place between your shoulder and your spine. “You’re with me.”

“I’ll never leave that arena.” You whispered, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure if he even heard you.

This was far from the first attack you’d had since winning the games, but it was certainly the worst.

Haymitch and Effie just watched you with sympathetic eyes for a moment before leaving the two of you alone. Peeta held you tight until your breathing started to return to a steady pace. While your vision cleared, your body couldn't stop shaking and you couldn’t seem to pry your hands away from his jacket.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffed, trying to wipe panicked tears away on your sleeve.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have made you go out there with me. I knew what it was going to be like for you and I should have-”

“They wouldn’t have let you go out there alone.” You shook your head. “There’s no hiding from them, Peeta.” You repeated your words like an echo, over and over again. “I’ll never leave that arena.”

“Then I’m right there with you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and stood up, keeping you pressed against his chest. “Come on, we should try and get some sleep before we reach the next District.”

He carried you to your compartment and tucked you under the covers. He crawled up beside you without you having to ask. It had become an unsaid thing between the two of you. You kept the nightmares away as best as you could and when one of you woke up afraid, you weren’t alone.

-

Peeta had proposed for the cameras the day you left for the Victor’s tour, but it was all for show. The Capitol ate it up. When you really said yes, it was a week prior, just the two of you in the calming quiet in a meadow outside of the fence. It meant more that way.

Of course, Effie had picked out an extravagant ring for you to wear on stage and everything. It was gaudy and heavy and enough jewels to feed three districts for a month. But like the faked proposal, it wasn’t what was real.

You twisted the small bronze band around your finger, examining it in the faint light coming through the train windows. You had been awake for about an hour now, but Peeta’s peaceful sleep kept you from stirring. You rested in the warmth of his embrace and listened carefully to the slow, comforting sound of his heart beat.

You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“Rise and shine you two.” Effie burst through the door and Peeta instantly went rigid beneath you, jolting up and pushing you behind him. You couldn’t see his face, but his expression frightened Effie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I-”

“No, Effie, it’s okay. Really.” He said apologetically, his expression softening. “We’ll be out for breakfast in a second.”

“Alright. Don’t be long. I know they want to do a feature on engaged life. A little romance might be just what you two need.” She gave you both a small smile before walking out, the door sliding shut behind her. Peeta laid back on his elbows, blowing out a low sigh.

“I didn’t mean to scare her. I just heard the door open and all I could think was that someone was here to take you away.” He pulled you back down to him and gently pressed his lips to yours. Truthfully, he’d been in the middle of a nightmare when he heard Effie enter. He thought that the images in his head were becoming real.

“She’ll be okay.” You concluded, drawing circles on his chest . “Effie is tougher than she seems. And she knows what we’ve been through.” Despite her bright and sometimes obnoxiously optimistic attitude, you knew that Effie wasn’t a mindless pawn from the Capitol. She saw what the games did to you. She saw the children behind the victors.

Breakfast was mostly had in a settled quiet. While neither of you said anything, Haymitch glanced over at you and you nodded to let him know that you were okay. It was that silent understanding that was the foundation of your relationship with your former mentor.

“They’re doing an update interview to see how the Capitol’s darling lovebirds have been enjoying their tour.” Haymitch said gruffly. “Which means lots of blushing and doe-eyes from you two.”

“That won’t be hard.” Peeta noted, looking over at you. He meant it sweetly, but something about it sent a shiver of dread down your spine. You ignored it, giving him a small smile.

“It’s comforting to know we won’t need to convince anybody of the whole hopeless romantic thing.” Haymitch made a face. “You two do a wonderful job of making me nauseous all on your own.” Effie smacked him with her rolled up napkin.

“I think it’s wonderful.” She mused dreamily. “How something like that could bring you together.”

You stiffened, keeping your eyes on your plate, pushing your eggs around mindlessly with your fork. Sometimes you forgot that this was still all a TV show for people to gawk at. You would be the star crossed lovers from District 12 for the rest of your lives. No amount of real emotion you felt for Peeta was going to erase that.

The other three seemed to notice your shift and finished their meal in silence. Haymitch excused himself to the dining car for likely the rest of the day and Effie left to work on the speeches you’d have to read in front of District 8. You hadn’t eaten a bite, opting to sip slowly at your coffee instead.

“Just a few more days and we’ll get to go home.” Peeta said, noticing your empty stare and untouched meal. You just nodded, not really hearing him.

-

“So tell us, Peeta, when did you know that you wanted to propose?” Caesar grinned into the camera.

“Honestly, I knew the moment we stepped out of the arena that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” Peeta gave your hand a squeeze and looked at you with complete and utter adoration. Caesar gasped in awe, eating up the fluffy romance that Peeta was perfect at portraying.

Is that all this is? The thought penetrated your mind before you could stop it. A performance? Is everything he says for the sake of the camera?

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive you for not including me in the moment, Peeta.” Caesar pouted. “But it was just so sweet I can’t stay mad at you!” The two laughed and you forced a loving smile. “Really, proposing in front of the bakery just before you left for the tour- why, it’s probably the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”

“I’m glad it came off that way, because I was a nervous wreck!” Peeta exclaimed and they laughed again. You had to admire his acting ability. Maybe that’s what scared you so much.

He’s just performing. Is he performing with you?

“I think we all want to know,” Caesar beamed, turning his attention to you, “what was going through your head, Y/N? When Peeta got down on one knee?”

You pushed any doubt from your head and just focused on everything you knew was real. “Honestly, Caesar, I can’t think of a happier moment in my life. I never knew what I was missing until we found each other.”

“Don’t these two just make you believe in love, Claudius?” He gushed to his costar. “We’ll let the two of you get back to your tour, but I can’t say how excited we are to have you all to ourselves here in the Capitol.”

“We can’t wait.” Peeta grinned. You both smiled broadly, waiting for the little red recording light to turn off. As soon as the cameras were gone, Peeta lifted your hand up to his lips. “That went well.” He muttered against the skin of your palm.

“Yeah. I think they definitely believe that we’re the perfect couple.” You hadn’t meant to say it so bitterly, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Peeta’s expression changed.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes were different, the charisma that was there with Caesar was gone. His worry seemed to stem from something real, but you just couldn’t convince yourself that it was.

“Nothing.” None of this is real. It’s all just the games. What if you’re still in the arena? What if this is all in your head? You broke away from him, trying to hide the panic growing and growing inside you until it was all you could feel. You could hear him saying your name, but it sounded garbled and far away, like he was whispering in the rain.

What seized you now was unlike you’d ever felt before. Not only was it the dark panic that blurred your vision and tightened your throat until you couldn’t breathe- it was a complete disconnect from reality. It was like you were trapped inside one of their screens and you were banging on the glass, trying to get out.

-

You didn’t realize you had fainted until you woke up in Peeta’s arms. His was sitting up, cradling you in his lap like he had before, only now you were in your room and you had a blanket draped around your shoulders. You jerked away, your mind still terrified that even this wasn’t real.

“Woah, hey it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“This isn’t real. None of this is real.” You whispered in a panic, still trying to push away from him. This was the Capitol. They were in your head. “You aren’t real.” As hard as you shoved against him, his strong arms were locked around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you closer.

“I’m right here. I’m real. Just breathe. Come on, stay with me.” While his voice was soothing, your vision was still blurred with hot tears.

“We can never escape this. Every second of our lives belongs to them. Nothing is real. It’s all theirs.”

Peeta pulled away, taking your hand in his. He slid the bronze ring off your finger and held it up.

“This is ours. It’s not Snow’s, it’s not the Capitol’s, it’s ours. It’s real and it’s ours.” He put the ring back on and moved your hand to his chest. You could feel his heart beating beneath your fingertips. “I’m real,” He looked at you with a gentle and yet intense love, “and I am completely yours.”

You wiped away your tears and laid a hand on his cheek. “Peeta-”

“And no matter the nightmare, no matter the fear, or when your mind takes you back to the games, just remember I will always be there with you.”

He pulled you back to him and the two of you remained- away from the cameras and away from the Capitol. At least for now, you weren’t victors. You were a boy and a girl who had saved each other.

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts. 

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1

 Chapter 2

I wrapped the white wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The night was still chilly and the and smelt faintly of impending rain. Why they would plan a party outside while it rained, was beyond me.

After my little skirmish with Jungkook, I had found Namjoon quickly only to be told that we couldn’t leave for another hour at least because there was a  certain investor who wanted to meet Namjoon . The guy was running late and he had to wait for him. So here I stood, shivering lightly, all while keeping an eye on my husband as he got progressively drunk.

Namjoon’s words made me sigh a little.

“You can’t decide what someone else’s normal is, Namjoon. Especially when it comes to grief.  But the drinking is an issue. And you’re right about the therapist. I know she’s doing her best but I’m not sure if she has the right answers for him. Or even the right tools to help him.”

“I’ve been searching up on therapists who specialize with alphas. There’s one in Itaewon , his name is Kim Taehyung. I really think he could help. He’s an alpha himself.”

“That sounds good. Betas may not fully understand alpha mating bonds or what it’s like when one of them dies. Taehyung may have a better understanding of what Jungkook’s going through.” I nodded, a little hopeful. 

Therapy with the beta lady the hospital had recommended wasn’t really helping Jungkook the way it ought to.

Namjoon hesitated.

“Would you be willing to go with him? Taehyung insists a family member stay in the waiting room just in case...” he asked gently. I turned back to look at my husband, leaning on the mahogany countertop of the bar, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey.

“And I’m the one you want to consider for that? That’s ridiculous. Jungkook hates me.” Did I really have remind him of this salient fact? 

“I’ve offered to, before.  He doesn’t want me there." I sighed as Jungkook threw the drink back with ease.

“That was three months ago though. Things have changed now right?” Namjoon prodded.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not between us they haven’t. He’s spending more time with Mina and he isn’t throwing stuff around but he still loathes me.”

“He loathes what you represent: his own shortcomings and failures. Your father wasn’t kind in his approach and you are a reminder of all the things he can’t control.”

How fucking unfair,  I thought playing with the tiny  ring on my finger ( or should i say handcuff really? ), my wedding ring , the platinum band engraved with my husband’s name, a drop of his blood embossed into the metal. 

An archaic tradition, that carried no meaning in modern Seoul but the idea of it was still alive and well. The idea that what we had was a blood bond, imbued in our veins now.  An alpha’s connection with a beta or an alpha mate was usually quite fragile. But an alpha and omega mate bond. That was supposed to be powerful. 

Unless the alpha was still phantom bonded to a dead wife , that is. It was odd thing. Mate bonds had to be mutual to work. So there was no bond between Jungkook and I . We didn’t have any feelings for each other of course. But wearing someone’s blood on yourself changed that . it forced a bond that wasn’t there. It was ancient magic and it worked on my kind. Not on his. 

How fucking unfair because it wasn’t like I could control any of this either? 

I grimaced. I had thought of taking the ring off 

“Ouch.” I said with a smile. Namjoon waved off my self pity with an eye roll. 

“You know what I mean. Even for an Alpha, Jungkook has always held on to his pride. Losing his wife and his company all in the same week probably left him feeling incredibly helpless and your father browbeat him into this whole thing. Of course he isn’t going to be eager to share heart to heart talks with you. ”

I held my hand up. 

“I know all that Namjoon. I was there, remember? And I’m not blaming him for any of that. Trauma makes you do shitty things and I understand that . I also understand that if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t behave the way he does now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change his mind for him. If he doesn’t want to get help, I’m kind of helpless myself, you know?”

Namjoon reached out and squeezed my hand.  

“I’m just asking you this because , he does listen to you at times. I’ve noticed it. He doesn’t outwardly agree with you but he takes your opinions into consideration. And, Heejin you live with him and you’re the one who managed to convince him to start scenting Mina. ”

And God, how exhausting that had been. I had kept at it because Mina was so young and she needed her father’s scent to grow. And while i could be persistent when necessary,  I couldn’t work miracles. 

“Namjoon oppa, “ I said softly, trying to explain myself without sounding like a horrible human, “  I don’t hate Jungkook. Far from it. I want him to get the help he needs and I’m here for him. If you can convince him to go see Taehyung and he’s okay with me coming along, I won’t say no. Mina needs him and there’s nothing I would like more than for him to get better. ” i smiled a little, “ But he’s still going to have to be the one to make that choice. i can’t make it for him.” 

Namjoon nodded.

“ Fair enough. Well,  I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll set something up. Thank you for not refusing Heejinah. I know it can’t be easy for you either. 

I opened my mouth to respond but out of the corner of my eyes I caught a glimpse of someone, staring intently right at me.

 I turned sharply, eyes locking with those of Kim Yugyeom and I stiffened, stepping closer to Namjoon on instinct.  Yugyeom smirked, winking at me. 

I shuddered in disgust. 

Creep.

Namjoon followed my line of vision and swore.

“This motherfucker.” He made to move towards him. and I grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his forearm. The last thing i wanted to witness was an alpha alpha showdown in the middle of a party with me in the middle. 

“Please, no. Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Jungkook has the shittiest friends on the planet.” Namjoon shook his head and I couldn’t agree more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mina’s appointment with the doctor went about as expected. She was right on time with her milestones and I sat in the waiting office for a mere twenty minutes before being called in. The doctor, an alpha named Min Yoongi gave me a small smile of recognition before flipping through the pages of her file.

“ Jungkook didn’t come along?” He asked casually, grabbing a pen and making a note of her weight and length before plotting it on the small graph. She was a little on the smaller side but she was growing well. 

“He’s busy...” i said with a shrug, “ So I still keep giving her the polyvisol supplements?” 

Yoongi nodded, “ The nurse will fill in the prescription for you. Are you sure he’s busy? He called me last night and told me he wanted to come see me?” 

I blinked. 

“He did ? “ I couldn’t quite process this. 

“He wanted to talk about how she’s doing and I told him he could come in for her appointment today.”

I imagined a world where Jungkook actually spoke to me, instead of forcing  me to navigate stormy waters on rotten plywood. Nine more months, i told myself firmly, already digging for my phone. Nine more months and I would be out of this living hell I’d gotten trapped in. 

“Can I try calling him? He’s probably forgotten. I think he might regret missing out.” I begged and Yoongi gave me a small smile, waving me off. 

“Of course you can Heejin-ah and tell him that if he wants I can drop by at the office and talk to him as well.” 

I nodded quickly , moving out to the waiting area while the nurses held Mina, soothing her before getting her ready for her shots. I tried calling him and not surprisingly he didn’t pick up. I called his office next and Jungkook’s secretary picked up the phone .

The woman hated me. 

“He’s busy.” She said curtly.” He’s specifically asked me not to bother him with stuff that isn’t important.” 

Her whiny voice grated on my ears and i bit my lips to keep the irritation in. 

“Since when does his daughter make that list, Ms Lee?” I said calmly and she hesitated. 

“He’s in a meeting right now and-”

“I’m in the hospital with his daughter. I hope you’re willing to take the heat when he finds out that you wouldn’t let me get through to him. “ I said casually. 

It was a twisted version of the truth for sure. Meant to imply that Mina was hurt in some way. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it much. I had enough on my plate without dealing with twenty year old secretaries who fancied themselves in love with their hot boss. 

 “I... just a moment, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I loathed the name. It wasn’t mine. It was hers and I felt like a thief every time someone addressed me that way.

After two minutes, Jungkook’s  familiarly low and perpetually exhausted voice came out ,

“Hello? Heejin?” He sounded listless and his voice just a little slurred and i groaned. 

“Please tell me you aren’t drunk.” I whispered. 

“I’m not. “ He said shortly. “ What’s wrong? What happened? Is Mina alright? ”

“Did you tell Yoongi that you were going to meet him today?” 

He was quiet for a second. 

“i’ll talk to him.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone. I realized that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. Should have asked Yoongi to call him himself. What was wrong with me? Even a few syllables exchanged with Jungkook felt like staring into an abyss . 

I moved back to the clinic , just as Mina plaintive wail filled the room. The shots were done. It took us another thirty five minutes to finish filling her prescriptions and for Yoongi to finish examining her. She was already dozing off and I wasn’t supposed to feed her for another thirty minutes so perhaps the nap would do her good.  I had just finished settling her into her Bjorn carrier  when Jungkook’s voice came from the entryway. 

“Is this the way to Dr. Min’s office?” 

I glanced back to watch him . He looked ridiculously handsome in a three piece suit, jacket thrown over his arm and hair lightly damp from the misty drizzle outside. I saw the secretary’s mouth actually drop open and stay agape as she tried to process his questions. i could see the way his beauty had rendered her entirely witless and as someone who had experienced it first hand , i could sympathize, 

But Jungkook was beginning to look annoyed from the lack of response and i decided to give the poor girl a break. 

“He’s waiting for you.” I called out and Jungkook startled. He glanced up at me and for some reason he looked surprised. He always looked surprised when he saw me. As if i was just some monster out of his worst nightmares turning up in odd places . As if he couldn’t quite believe that i did exist in his life now. Unwelcome but impossible to avoid. 

“You’re here.” He said blankly. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Yes, i am. I’ve been here for three months now. “ i said shortly, before i could stop myself, “ Mina’s fine.  She just had her shots. I’m going to drive home and put her down for a nap. Do you want me to come with you ?” I pointed at the clinic. 

He hesitated before shaking his head. 

It was all according to script then. Jungkook would never include me in a single thing. Even if i was smack damn in the middle of the room with nowhere else to go. 

“Alright. i’ll see you after work.” 

“We’ll have guests for dinner today. ” He said suddenly. 

I stared at him, confused.

“For dinner??”

“ Sooah’s parents.” 

Oh, God. 

Wary of the extra nurses suddenly filling the room, the little whispers and the curious glances, i kept my smile even. 

“Of course. ” I bowed a little before turning on my heel and walking away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooah’s parents were, for lack of a better word, selfish . 

They had lost a daughter, so of course i could understand with their need to keep their daughter’s memory alive. But the way they chose to do it was unhealthy and borderline vindictive. 

" She’s growing well.” Mrs. Kim had the same statuesque figure as her model daughter and she held her grandchild with a slightly unsure grip and Mina felt the uncertainty in her grip, breaking out into cries at once. I stayed still, my throat dry from disuse. I hadn’t said a word since they came in. 

We were seated at the table, dinner was done. 

Jungkook sat next to me, staring straight ahead while his father in law tried to engage him in conversation. 

With Jungkook, the grief came in waves. Some days, the waves were small and gentle, like the ones that lapped at your feet on the shore of a tranquil lake. on those days e went about his day as usual, spoke to his friends and signed deals.  And somedays they were big, behemoths carrying guilt and accusation, crashing over his head with a vengeance. 

On those days , he looked like he’d been run over by a two ton truck. 

Today was just one of those days and i could sense it.

The man was going on an on about some charity that Sooah had been involved in as a young girl... Could Jungkook make a contribution in her name?. Could Jungkook pay for a concert of her favorite singer in her hometown..?  Could Jungkook possibly consider contributing to opening a foundation in her name? 

I could feel the urge to scream, grow by the minute.

 Each syllable that spilled out of her father’s mouth was aggravating, the sentences began and ended with her name, over and over over again and It felt terribly like she was standing right next to me, ice cold and dead but real and relentless at the same time. He spoke of her like she was still alive and i couldn’t fathom how that was healthy. How that was going to help Jungkook move on.

 If anything it made it harder for him to move on. 

And in a moment of chilling clarity, i realized  that this is what they wanted. 

They didn’t want Jungkook to move on from her. They wanted him to be consumed by her. In the wake of that realization , i felt anger surge. 

There was just enough hurt and heartbreak and pain and grief in this room without these idiots adding to it. 

“Jungkook is tired tonight, uncle.. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” I said finally, unable to bear it any more.

The man gave me a glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you girl.” He said sharply. I frowned. 

“We’re trying to help Jungkook. “ The woman said sharply. “ Unlike you and your father we do not prey on the weak. “ 

Jungkook shifted at the phrase and I glared at her.

“He isn’t weak. “ I snapped, resisting the urge to add on a you bitch , “He’s grieving . And what he needs is space to process his grief. Not you people trying to shove your daughter into his throat with every sentence. “

“Don’t you dare talk about our daughter!” Mrs. Kim snarled and i felt a headache come on.

“I thought that was why you were here? To talk about her? Or should I say use her as an excuse to get money out of him??  What you’re doing is unfair and awful!! . Jungkook isn’t ready to talk about this and one look at his face should tell you that, if you even bothered looking at anything except his wallet.” I shouted. 

“Heejin, that’s enough.” Jungkook said hoarsely and i bit my lips. 

Of course he wasn’t going to support me even if we were on the same side. Defending him, protecting him was exhausting and it was such a thankless job. i wanted it to end. 

“I think we should call this a night. please, just leave” I said sharply, standing up and reaching for Mina. She glared at me but handed the baby over. 

“You don’t get to make that decision. My son in law is who I’m here to see. You’re just the parasite that’s attached herself to him. You sit there in my daughter’s place and you dare disrespect me this way. ” The woman snapped.

“Its still my house. “ I gritted out. “ I’m married to Jungkook whether you like it or not and so i have the right to ask you to get out of my house.” 

“Heejin, stop.” Jungkook’s voice only made me angrier. He sounded drained and empty and still these leeches wanted to suck him dry. And he was too  blind to see it. 

“I’m done with this” I stood up moving to the small pack and play that sat in the corner of the living room. i placed Mina in and watcher her eyes flutter shut gently. 

i turned back to stare at Mrs. Kim.

“i want the pair of you to leave. Get out before I call security.” 

She gaped at me. 

“you had a wedding... that doesn’t make it a fucking marriage. “ she sneered. “ Its probably not even legal until you consummate it. So go ahead, call the cops right now. You think i wouldn’t take you to court. ??!! ” 

She was spouting absolute nonsense, probably driven by her own grief  but i wasn’t feeling particularly charitable tonight. 

“Why don’t you ask your son in law that? Ask him if the marriage was consummated or not...” I smirked. 

She faltered, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“No. You’re lying ...he wouldn’t.” She turned to Jungkook who looked at me with fury in his eyes. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He said sharply and I scoffed.

“With me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with these idiots that they think they can come here and ask you to sign a fucking cheque when you’re still out here grieving for their daughter?!”

“You don’t know shit about them or her...” 

“I don’t have to. I don’t have to and i don’t care to either. All I know is that i married you and you’re my husband and whether you meant those vows or not, i did. I swore in front of my God and my family and I’m going to keep those promises. I’m going to protect you because I love your daughter . I’m going to protect you because you need to fucking live to be able to care for her. “ 

i turned to stare at his in-laws. They were staring at me, some of the fire dying out and in the span of a few minutes they somehow looked older . 

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Mr. Kim said finally, voice cracking and i exhaled. 

“And yet, here I am. And I’m not leaving. you are.” I said calmly. 

They stared at me for one more second before standing up and moving out of the dining space and into the hallways leading out. 

“We’ll call you later Jungkook-ah...” The man said before walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him. 

The silence between us grew heavier as the seconds ticked. 

“We can’t decide how people grieve.” Jungkook said softly. 

I stared at him in disbelief. 

“You’re telling  me  that , Jungkook? Or did you forget all the times I indulged you when the only way you could grieve was apparently  by forcing yourself on me.” i snapped. 

His eyes widened , just a fraction before going blank again. 

He took a deep breath and went on. 

“They lost their daughter and they’re hurting. We can’t tell them they aren’t allowed to honor her memory...They’re clearly in pain...”

“Not more than you!” i snapped. “ You’re the one in pain here Jungkook. Your pain is so much more than theirs ..... Or may be it isn’t i don’t know.. But i do know that I can’t sit here and watch them bleed all over you when you’re cut just as deep as them.” 

“You don’t know shit about e!” He roared. “ Don’t you fucking dare talk about my grief like you can understand it...like you actually know what its like to lose the woman who had your fucking heart, because if you did you wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking marriage...you wouldn’t be here in this room with me, intruding on my grief and my pain... “

The sound of his voice made my entire body freeze in fear. I stayed perfectly still, jumping when he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my face, fingers curling around my jaw. 

“ You want to know how i wanted to grieve? I wanted to grieve in solitude!!! I wanted to grieve without some fucking stranger hovering over my shoulder like a fucking plague!”

I exhaled shakily, fingers trembling as i reached up to hold his wrist, my entire jaw throbbing with how hard his grip was. 

“It’s the price you pay for getting your company back. Jeon Jungkook. “ I choked out.” Or did you forget that marrying me is the reason you aren’t homeless on the streets “

He laughed a little yanking me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“You’ve learned to talk back these days...” He muttered , “ I think I preferred the girl who hid in the nursery for the first three weeks of our wedding.” 

“I wasn’t hiding . I was avoiding you. Because your misery was contagious and i didn’t want any of it on me.” I snapped and his hold on my waist tightened. 

“Are you trying to make me angry? ” He snapped, fingers curling on my waist and I swallowed the whimper of pain that threatened. 

“Maybe i am... Maybe anything is better than watching you walk around this house like a corpse. You’re alive so I don’t see why you act like you died with her.” 

He growled at that, eyes blazing as he stepped back enough to stare into my face. 

“You’re right... I didn’t die with her. Although i wanted to...Maybe if i wasn’t such a fucking coward, i would have gone through with it.  .” He laughed and I felt my heart go ice cold at the very thought of it. 

“You didn’t die... So why don’t you get some help. There’s no shame in getting help... Taehyung...”

“I don’t need help. i need to be alone.” He snarled. “ I need to be allowed to cry and mourn my wife the way I want to but you and your father made sure that i couldn’t.”

I sighed, looking away in defeat. 

“Fucking look at me!” He snarled, hands grabbing both my arms and yanking me forward. “ Why won’t you look at me huh?  is the guilt finally catching up?” 

“No. No guilt. Just loathing and resentment.” I snapped back and he laughed again.

“Well too bad. Because you know what? You’re right. I paid for my company with my right to grieve and you...you paid for my name with your right to say no . “ 

I swallowed as he yanked me away from the table, dragging me to the couch in the side. 

“ I never refused you a thing.” I choked out, breathing ragged as he shoved me into the soft leather surface, crawling on top of me at once. “ I only said no when you were drunk out of your mind. When you thought it was okay to fuck me and call me by her name.” 

He made swift work of the buttons of my blouse and I stayed still, arms lying by my side. 

“ Are you telling me you want this ? You expect me to believe you want my hands on your body?” He sneered, fingers moving up to grip my hair. “You don’t want this and you don’t want me....Just like i don’t want you either. i’ll never want you. ” 

“You don’t want me.??.. You have a funny way of showing it..”  I scoffed , staring right into his eyes rolling my hips up into his  , greeted by the hard press of his length against my thigh.   “ And to be honest i don’t give a damn if you’re still in love with her , all I want is my name on your lips if you want to get off with me. Because I’m not just a toy you can use to replace your dead wife. I have  a name and you should remember it.  "

He growled again, fingers squeezing hard against the back of my head till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“I hate you. “ He said clearly. “ I hate you and everything you’ve done to me.” 

“Everything I’ve done to you? Oh you mean save your life? Taek care of your baby girl like she was my own? Give you the chance to rebuild your entire career.? Turn you into multi millionaire again?  Good. Hate me. The feelings mutual. “ I snapped. “Now if you hate me so much why are you still here? Get off me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, wife.” He sneered. “ Because like you said, I’ve paid for this.” He drawled, reaching down and squeezing between my legs. “And I’d be a pretty bad businessman if i don’t collect from my investments.” 

Before I could retort, he pulled back, just enough to grab me by the waist and flip me over on my front. I flinched when he grabbed my arms, yanking them back and trapping my wrists together in his fist at the base of my spine. My cheeks pressed into the leather couch, sticky and uncomfortable. 

i heard the sound of his zipper, the clink of his belt buckle. 

Coward. 

I shivered when he pushed my skirt up.

“Don’t enjoy this too much, yeah?” I snapped, “ You hate me remember?” 

“Easy enough to forget its you when I don’t have to look at you.” he retorted. 

He slipped one arm under my waist, lifting me up just enough for him to yank my panties down. 

“Just remember , you don’t get to blame the alcohol for this .” I sneered. “ You’re sober and clear headed and you’re hard for me. “ 

Somehow that seemed to bother him.

He stopped . 

I could feel the hesitation in his limbs. 

It made me laugh. 

“You know Jungkook, i took you for lot of things but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

“What the fuck does that mean huh? I should put you in your fucking place for how insolent you are with me... ” he pressed down on me and i gasped when I felt his chest pressing into my back, his face inches from my own. I flinched when he sank his teeth into the mating mark on my neck. 

“it means that if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to talk big about putting me in my place like the big bad alpha that you are, at least own up to the fact that you’re attracted to me. ” 

“ You forget your fucking place, omega.”  he hissed, voice sharp and furious against my ear. “ Another word out of that mouth and i won’t be responsible for what i do.” I gritted my teeth when he curled his fingers around the inside of my thigh, parting my legs and settling in between. 

He pushed into me in one strong thrust and my eyes flew open in shock. 

“Fuck.... why are you so fucking tight...” He groaned and my shoulders began to throb as he fucked into me, setting a punishing speed that left both of us panting . We were too fucking would up for it to last any longer than a few minutes and yet, i could feel pleasure swell inside me, wetness seeping out of me and onto the leather couch beneath us. 

I wondered just how fucked up this whole thing was. Just how much damage were we doing to each other?? But it was hard to care too much about it, because even if though it was a terrible way to talk things out at least he had talked. It was nothing new....nothing earth shatteringly enlightening but he had said it all out loud and that made a difference. 

“You think you can come into my life and dictate how i fucking live.” He grunted against my ear, fingers tightening on my hair. “ it pisses me off.” 

“Everyone dies, Jungkook. People die and they leave loved ones behind but Life goes on. It has to go on. You can’t just pause life to grieve. Mina needs you.” I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears, the adrenaline from the argument fading and my body threatening to go limp as he drove into me at the same punishing pace. 

He didn’t respond, fingers closing around my throat and squeezing lightly instead.

“Save your platitudes before i decide that the warmth of your body isn’t worth the grate of your voice on my ear.” He snapped and I whimpered when he stilled, spilling into me. 

He stayed pressed up against me. breathing harshly against my ear and i waited till both our breaths evened out. 

“It’s not selfish to move on Jungkook. You aren’t insulting your wife’s memory by wanting to move on.  “ I said softly. ” Someday your heart and mind will agree with me. Whether you like it or not. That’s just how pain works, Jungkook. One day it’ll pack itself up and walk out of your heart in the middle of the night. You just have to hold on till then.” 

He didn’t reply, merely drawing himself up and off me. 

Once i heard the door to his bedroom slam shut i dragged myself up , thighs shaking and sticky. I grimaced at the mess on the couch. I stared at the packet of baby wipes on the table nearby and shuddered. That just felt wrong. 

I’d just have to go grab a washcloth from the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On that weekend, we had another dinner to attend, this time with a few investors from out of the country or so Namjoon told me. 

Although we didn’t talk about what happened and he didn’t try to touch me again, things were subtly different. 

Something had changed in the way Jungkook behaved with me. There was a little less of the usual zombie like indifference and he actually seemed to be avoiding alcohol actively. It was a welcome change. But to make up for it, Mina went into a growth spurt. Which meant ten minute naps every hours or so with wailing sobs in between. 

i was exhausted. 

So much so that Jungkook told me that he didn’t want to pick Mina up from Seokjin’s place till the next day. 

It was a little past one in the morning when I finally trudged into the apartment. Jungkook wasn’t black out drunk but he was definitely a little loose limbed, eyes just a shade more glassy than usual.

“Tonight went well. I’m thinking the guy from Macau is definitely going to consider investing.” He muttered, gripping the door frame and taking off his shoes.

I toed my own heels off, feeling upset and bereft.

“Why would you tell Jin oppa that we’ll get Mina in the morning? She’s not used to being away the whole night.” I complained, feeling jittery and nervous because the house felt so empty and strange .

I didn’t like the idea of being alone with Jungkook without the buffer of his daughter between us. The house felt foreign, the walls seemingly closer together , the space to cramped.

Jungkook dropped his keys in the bowl and tugged on his tie, watching me carefully.

“It’s too late and Jin hyung said she was already asleep. He’ll drop her off in the morning. Just relax. Would you like a drink?”

I stared at him. 

What now? 

He looked nervous and a tad worried.

 Swallowing , I shook my head, turning on my heel.  

“I’m going to bed.” I was almost at the door to the nursery when he grabbed my arm, seemingly moving faster than I could breathe.

“Wait, Heejin… “ He stopped, worrying his lip between his teeth before sighing, “I… I need to say something..” He finished and I exhaled sharply.

I tugged on my arm but he wouldn’t let go.

“Jungkook , let me go.” I said sharply. “ I’m not in the mood tonight . You aren’t drunk now and I’m running out of reasons to excuse your actions.”

His hold on my arm relaxed but he didn’t let go.

“Namjoon hyung told me about that new therapist.... Kim Taehyung?? . I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said roughly.  

I sighed, defeated. It was expected and yet it stung. I wondered if perhaps I was just beating a dead horse at this point. But Mina deserved to have a father who loved her with all his heart and Jungkook’s heart was so filled with grief it had no place for his daughter. If there was any chance I could help change that, I would take it.

I tugged my arm away again and this time he let go.

I tried to smile encouragingly. it was hard because i was all out of comfort, my own exhaustion too overwhelming at the moment.

So I took a deep breath and reached out to lightly touch his arm. 

“Listen, no one’s asking you to make a decision tonight, Jungkook.” I tried to smile a bit more widely but it probably came out as a grimace, “ Just sleep on it and think about why you think it isn’t a good idea. Taehyung’s an alpha and he may understand you better. Think about it and you can let Namjoon know later.”

He didn’t reply, merely staring at me till I began to feel a little hot around the collar.

“Well, Good night then.” I made to turn away but he grabbed me again, this time by my wrist.

“Wait.”

Patience wearing just a little thin, I stared at him, waiting as he requested.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night. At the party last week. About you not being her mother.   I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the first time he had apologized for anything.

It took me a second to even remember what he was talking about. 

“Alright. I’m not mad. And I understand why you said it. Its fine. And you’re right. I’m not her mother and I should be more careful. ”

He nodded and then stepped back.

“ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. ”  He bowed awkwardly and I could only stare at him, shaking my head. The apologies were somehow both welcome and abhorrent to me. 

They were the kind of apology you would offer a stranger. And that made them insincere because I wasn’t a stranger. I’d been through too much these past few months, to be treated that way. 

For now I could only accept them at face value. 

“ Its alright. Just go to bed Jungkook. And listen to Namjoon oppa . I know you don’t trust me but you should trust him. He only wants what’s best for you. ”

I sounded twenty years older than I actually was and grimaced.

"There’s one more thing. Can I... I need... “ He stopped and stared at the floor. 

I felt a huge sense of foreboding rise up at that. 

“Are you going to pull the i paid for your body card? “ I said bitterly. “ You made it very clear that i can’t say no. I don’t see why you’re bothering to-”

“You can say no.” He said softly. “ You can say no.” 

And then he looked up at with limpid doe eyes, shining with all the stars in the galaxy and I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all. 

“ And if I say no, where will you go? To a brothel? you’ll come back smelling like another beta or omega and you can’t come near your daughter till it fades. Which is what? A week? “ 

Jungkook didn’t say anything and I felt helpless. 

“Is that why you sent her away tonight?” I demanded and he looked genuinely surprised. 

“What? No. Of course not . i just...You looked exhausted. I thought you’d like a night off. And just... I don’t want to have sex. Can you just sleep with me. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

“What’s so special about tonight?” i rolled my eyes already moving to his bedroom instead of the nursery. 

He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes empty in the dark of the hallway. 

I waited a whole minute before sighing. This was excruciating and my heels hurt from wearing heels all evening. i wanted to curl into the air mattress on the floor of the nursery , possibly lie sleepless till dawn and then drive down to pick Mina up from Jin’s place. 

“Jungkook , let’s just go to bed and forget-” 

“Its her birthday.” 

I barely heard him, his lips barely moved and his voice was so low. 

I stared at him. Not sure if I’d misheard. 

“What?”

“Its her birthday. “ He repeated. 

“You can say her name.” i said calmly. “ You’re not betraying her by saying her name out loud in front of me.” 

He went a little stiff at that and i wanted to kick myself for the remark. What a hypocrite I was. I’d reprimanded Namjoon for trying to dictate Jungkook’s grief and here I was , doing the exact same thing. 

“I’m sorry. God, Jungkook... I’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.  i didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me.. I... of course you don’t have to be alone. Should i call Namjoon oppa? Or Jimin?” I asked gently. 

“It’s Sooah’s birthday.” He was still staring at the floor, apparently he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. 

I had a sudden flash of memory, remembering that Jungkook used to sing. He had sung at his wedding seven years ago. Serenaded his wife as she walked down the aisle. I had been young then but i remembered thinking how evident his love was in every syllable sung .

Something i could hear even now, in the way he said her name. 

“Okay. What would you like to do? I... I can make seaweed soup.” I said softly. “ We can go see her if you like?” 

He stared at me. 

“I want to go alone.” He said finally. 

I hesitated. 

“I’ll drive you. i’ll stay in the car. You can’t drive.” I reminded him. 

Jungkook’s driver’s license had been suspended after one too many traffic violations. I drove him around often . 

He didn’t reply, staring out of the huge bay windows and i sighed. 

“Alright... Why don’t you go change  into something more comfortable yeah? i’ll get the soup going and we, “ i bit my lips, “ , I’m sorry, And you can go see her.  “ I smiled, before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the dried seaweed. I soaked it in cold water, before getting the beef, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper and the sesame oil from the cupboards. 

Ten minutes later, the soup was boiling away and I peered out at the door leading to his bedroom. I was still wearing the cocktail gown and my head was beginning to throb. I oved to the nursery and stripped quickly, slipping on my white t shirt and a pair of pink corduroy shorts. 

I would be in the car anyway.  By the time i finished taking off all my make up, the soup was done and Jungkook was slumped over the counter. He looked drained, more so than usual . In fact he looked notably worse than how he was ten minutes ago. 

Torn between the urge to draw him into my arms and the helpless knowledge that he would absolutely hate me touching him , i merely hovered near the stove, pouring the stove into a small airtight container. 

On a whim I moved to the cupboard  in the corner that housed all the crockery and threw it open. 

“What was her favorite bowl?” I said casually, staring at him. 

He blinked, staring at me like i was speaking a foreign tongue. 

“Her favorite bowl , Jungkook The one she always drank or ate from?” 

He swallowed but leaned his palms down on the granite countertop, levering himself off the tall stool of the kitchen island and making his way over to me. I stepped back, giving him space to peer into the depths of the black marble shelves. 

He finally stuck a hand in and drew out a pale yellow and mauve bowl , a little worn but intact. 

He held it carefully, running his fingers gently over the bowl, savoring the surface his wife had once caressed with her own fingers. I watched as his lips curved, a pale pale imitation of a smile but a smile nonetheless and I felt my breath catch in my throat. 

This was probably the first time he’d smiled in the three months i’d known him. 

My heart began to pound, a steady staccato that began rising in volume and i willed myself to stay calm. 

“I..uh.. I can wash it for you.” I said softly .

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and he stared at my outstretched hand like it was a snake . 

Face almost eerily blank he cleared his throat. 

“I’ll do it.” 

i watched as he moved to wash the bowl under the spray from the faucet and finished clearing up the kitchen. i grabbed a small bag to keep the sea wood soup in and held the bag open when Jungkook finished washing the bowls. He grabbed a fresh kitchen towel and carefully wiped down the moisture before wrapping the bowl in the towel and keeping it inside the bag, carefully. 

I smiled and zipped the bag shut. 

“Lets go shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I sat waiting in the car, staring out into the darkness of the parking lot, while the rain poured torrents outside the glass windows of the car. I felt unaccountably alone, like I was the only human being left on the planet. 

It had been a little past an hour since Jungkook had disappeared into the building that held his wife’s ashes. I wasn’t sure if i should give him a call. Had he fallen asleep in there. 

I told myself I would wait another hour and if he didn’t come out, I would go check on him. 

I dozed lightly against the window, exhaustion beginning to creep in. I wanted to sob at how tired i was. I could have gotten a full nights sleep, something i hadn’t had since the day I took Mina into my arms. 

But then, i remembered the tiny smile that had sprung up on his face and i grinned despite myself. That was progress wasn’t it? It definitely was. I was sure that if only Jungkook could be convinced to go meet Taehyung , the alpha therapist, things could get so much better for him. I wanted to have him at least halfway to being ..... capable of handling his own daughter, before i left him. if not the worry alone would eat me alive. 

I was just getting ready to perhaps climb over the console and nap in the backseat when my phone rang. 

I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. it was two thirty in the morning. 

Who?

I grabbed my phone from the bag and my heart leapt to my throat. 

“Jin? What’s wrong? What happened to her?” I could feel my heart threatening to give out, any number of terrible possibilities running through my head in a vicious loop.

“nothing happened, Heejin , take a deep breath... She’s just running a fever. it was quite low earlier but its hitting 101  now and I’m getting a little worried. I’ve given her cold baths and kept a wet towel on her but it doesn’t seem to be coming down.” 

“We’ll be there in ten minutes! “ i said quickly.

“I’m sorry, Heejinah, i don’t have any experience with babies and-”

“it’s alright...thank you for calling me oppa!” i hung up , already fumbling with the door and stepping out into the rain. i was soaked through in three second flat. What a day to wear a white t shirt. 

I ran quickly, stumbling a little on the gravel pathway and hoping to God i was going the right way. I ran into the foyer, the poor security guard falling asleep over his desk glancing up at me in sympathy. 

“there was a man here earlier?”

“Second floor third room.” He said casually.

I nodded, already rushing for the steps. I climbed the four flights of stair in two minutes, my heart threatening to give out. I found Jungkook in the room , kneeling on the floor and he looked at me in shock that swiftly turned to anger.

“Jungkook-” i gasped because the run up had robbed me of my breath. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He moved so quickly I could barely blink before he was right up in front of me. 

“Jungkook, I... We need...” I tried to draw a breath in but before I could form the words he grabbed my arm, so hard that I whimpered in pain. 

“I told you i wanted to be alone, what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” He snarled.

“Jungkook-” Before i could finish, he yanked me just a bit closer to him before shoving me out of the room with his wife’s portraits and the small ornate vase that held her ashes. 

it wasn’t that hard. 

He didn’t push me in a very brutal way. 

In fact it was probably with lesser force than what anyone slamming a door would use. 

But,

Jungkook was six feet two. He weighed a 170 pounds. 

I was a hundred pounds wet and barely came up to his shoulders. 

And it was just my luck that the wall opposite to the door had a large concrete and granite horse figurine placed right in front of it.  

I crashed into the torso of the equine, my bones rattling inside me and I whimpered when my wrist made contact with the hard surface, bending a bit out of place. 

I slid to the floor in a wet lump, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

Jungkook stood frozen by the door horrified as he stared at his hands, as thought he couldn’t quite fathom what he had just done. 

A sharp burning pain began in my sides and I gasped out.

“Oh, fuck.” I swore. 

Jungkook moved to help me up but i was already crawling away from him, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my side.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding both my hands up. “ It’s Mina...she’s running a fever. We need to go get her.” 

“Heejin-ah, I’m...”

One more apology and i would officially lose it, i thought slightly hysterically. 

“its my fault.” I said sharply, “  I should have probably tried calling you from the car instead of barging in like this but Jin called and i got worried...I wasn’t thinking straight so I’m sorry about that... I think we should go get her as soon as we can.” 

“Did i hurt you?” He demanded , reaching out for me again and I nearly fell again trying to move away from his touch. 

“No.. No I’m fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure, we don’t have to go the doctor.?  “ He asked nervously, watching me carefully wipe down her body with the slightly damp wet cloth. I nodded, carefully squeezing the water out before dipping the towel in water again. 

“She’ll be fine. Her fever’s come down and with babies this young, its safer to care for them at home than to take them to a hospital.” I said casually, 

 “I wasn’t talking about her.” He said stiltedly. 

I blinked, staring up at him in surprise. 

“What?”

“I think we should go to the doctor. You fell hard. ”

“Jungkook what are you even on about?” I said crossly, steadfastly ignoring the pain in my sides. It was sharp and unbearable with every breath I took in but I was too terrified to go to the hospital and have them tell me I’d cracked my rib or something. 

Partly because that would be so inconvenient. 

Partly because Jungkook would probably go back to being a guilt ridden shadow of himself if that happened. 

“I’m going to call Yoongi hyung.” 

Before I could protests some more he was already on his feet, moving to the living room.

Yoongi arrived thirty minutes later , annoyed and sleepy, dressed in a soft white t shirt and stone wash jeans. 

“It’s four thirty in the morning , she better be dying Jungkook..” He rasped out near the front door and i flinched at the murderous tone to his voice. 

Suddenly , i hoped desperately that my ribs had cracked. 

Yoongi stepped in , staring at me . He took in the mess of quilts i sat on and sighed. 

“Come here and take your shirt off.” He said gruffly. 

I blinked, feeling blood rush to my face. Was he always this handsome? Hating the very unwelcome flutter of nerves, I moved to stand in front of him, grabbing the hem of my t shirt .

But the movement jolted my rib and pain sharp and lancing shot through my side. I yelped and dropped my hand again breathing harshly which only seemed to make things worse. 

I swallowed and Yoongi blinked, reaching out to gently grip my elbows. 

“Hey...relax ... “ He said gently. 

I felt the press of a warm chest at my back.

“Let me help hyung.” Jungkook’s voice rumbled through my body, his chin brushing the top of my head and he bent over me from the back, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt and carefully lifting it up to just above the curve of my breasts. 

Yoongi was staring at Jungkook over my shoulders expression unreadable. 

“So you do know how to act after all.” He commented drily and I heard Jungkook inhale sharply behind me. 

“Hyung...” He said sharply, and Yoongi merely rolled his eyes. 

“How did this happen?” He ran slender fingers all over my skin, feeling each dent and dip carefully. 

“I ..uh.. I sort of fell into a statue? It was made of concrete and quite heavy.” 

His face shifted into a frown. 

“Jungkook , tell me you didn’t push her.” He said sharply and I jumped a bit.

“No...he didn’t.” i said sharply and Yoongi ignored me , staring right at the alpha behind me. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He said finally.

“You broke her rib, kid.” 

I groaned in defeat. Behind me Jungkook stiffened.

“It was an accident.” I said sharply and Yoongi gave me an unimpressed look.

“If i had a won for every wife that told me that.” 

“It was my fault and-” I shut my mouth. I did sound like the poster child for abused wife in denial. 

“Relax... I’m not going to send your handsome husband to prison.” He chuckled. “ This time.” He added, giving Jungkook another glare. 

“It won’t happen again. ever. “ Jungkook’s voice shook a little. 

I sighed, already imagining the self flagellation that was probably going on inside the alpha’s head.

Yoongi’s voice drew me out of my head. 

 “Its not a break. It looks like a crack which is easier to heal. But i still want you to come in tomorrow. We’ll get it x rayed. Its going to take a couple of months to heal.” 

I gaped.

“Months?” 

“As long as you take it easy you’ll be fine. Now where’s the little one?” 

Yoongi dropped off a small bottle of pediatric paracetamol and told me to keep an eye on her temperature before bidding us goodbye. 

Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook turned to me , eyes wide and lips parted. 

“If you apologize , I’m going to throw this  at your face.” i said calmly, fingers closing over the neck of the ceramic vase on the table. 

Jungkook blinked. 

“I’m sorry. “ He said nonetheless and I sighed, pulling my hands away. 

How fitting. Neither of us could act out of character. 

Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything under the sun. 

I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him in any way. 

“Just go to bed , Jungkook. I’ll be fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : As always the pain is here and probably going to get worse. But Jungkook seems to be turning mildly human so let’s see if he can keep that up. Also handsome pediatric doctor Yoongi as second lead because i like to torture myself. 

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[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

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[ficforce]

Scared

Shinmon Benimaru x F!Reader

SFW

No set timeline

Established relationship

Benimaru had been really off with her lately.

It wasn’t anything obvious, just small subtle changes in the way he looked at her or spoke to her, sometimes he would look like he wanted to say something and then wouldn’t. Usually, if he wanted to tell her something he would just come out and say it.

Y/N brought her chopsticks to her mouth and as she chewed she placed them back to her rice bowl, poking at the contents like she didn’t want to take another bite. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to across the table where her gaze met Benimaru’s, his eyes were narrowed very slightly as he regarded her. Y/N nearly spoke up but the twins chose that moment to start a small fight to her left over the only piece of meat left - she heard Konro sigh on her right and the man leaned in to cut the piece in half for the girls. It was a typical morning for them… one she didn’t want to ruin.

“Y/N, you’re not eating.”

“Does your tummy still hurt?”

Turning her head with a quiet hum, Y/N smiled as two pairs of amber eyes looked up at her in a mixture of curiosity and concern, “I’m a little tired,” she reached over to adjust the yellow band in Hinata’s hair, she then leaned further and did the same for Hikage whilst brushing the rice from around their mouths. “I had two drunken idiots wake me up at three in the morning.”

Konro choked a little on his tea, having the decency to at least look embarrassed, “I wasn’t that bad, Y/N…”

“Konro,” the woman started and pointed her chopsticks at him, “You spent the good part of an hour trying to find the cat… a cat that we don’t even have.” Hearing an amused snort from Benimaru she then looked at him with an exasperated glare, “You climbed onto a set of drawers, giggling like a schoolgirl and meowing when he wasn’t looking.”

It would have been hilarious if she hadn’t been feeling like hell already, she had coaxed them into drinking water and then sent them to bed, which meant helping Benimaru get undressed and to sleep.

“Again?” He didn’t use a tone that was disbelieving but there was some sort of accusation that she couldn’t quite place. Benimaru’s eyes narrowed again, scanning her as if that would answer all of his questions and Y/N made herself busy with tidying the table, “You keep saying you feel sick - did you see the doctor like I said to?”

“You were supposed to come with us.” The Captain murmured into his cup, his head was still aching and the corner of his lips occasionally crept up into a smile; the sake still affecting him. “You were talking about it all week.”

And there it was.

Y/N had been waiting for him to pout about her ditching them last minute. They had planned a night out for weeks, it had taken some effort to convince Konro to let loose too and then a few hours before they were going to leave - she pulled out. “I already told you, I felt like I was going to puke.”

“I went last week…” Y/N said without looking at him, “They said I should just take it easy until it passes.” That wasn’t strictly true and it was why Y/N couldn’t look him in the eye. The news from the doctor had been a shock and she had walked out of the appointment in a daze, barely taking notice of anything - to the point she nearly walked into several people. It was going to change everything, it would ruin their family dynamic. She couldn’t imagine telling them that these breakfasts would never be the same again… that Benimaru would have to get used to going out without her.

Feeling her stomach twist a little she got up with the dishes and headed out before they could notice her eyes starting to water.

Just how was her lover going to take the news?

He already had so much going on; he protected the town, he put their Infernals to rest, he spoke with the families that had lost their loved one, he helped put back together the things he broke and Captained the Hikeshi. It had only been recently that he got the confidence to make more decisions without going to Konro first.

She didn’t want to burden him further.

There was already something bothering him too. Sometimes when they were together he would become stiff, his hand wouldn’t hold hers as tightly and several times he had ditched her. He’d say he had to run an errand that she knew he didn’t have and then leave - specifically telling her to stay behind.

It had gotten worse since she had started to throw up a few weeks prior.

At first, he had looked after her, rubbing her back and bringing her plenty to drink afterwards. The man acted aloof most of the time but she knew he had been worried… Maybe he knew. Maybe he was distancing himself so that he wouldn’t get hurt?

The rest of that morning Y/N went about her few tasks, fighting down nausea and worrying about her relationship. The twins had run out of the guardhouse to play once Y/N had checked they’d brushed their teeth and Konro had come to tell her that Shinra from Company 8 was coming for training. That would certainly keep Benimaru busy and she had no doubt he was thinking of ways to put Shinra on edge.

If Shinra was going then she’d need to get more food from the market, for him and Benimaru, they were going to use up plenty of their energy, physically and pyro-kinetically. Whilst going through a mental shopping list Y/N rounded the corned just as someone else did.

The tension was back in his body, she could feel it in the way his arms stiffened around her; there was a palpable feeling of trepidation rolling off of him, “Beni…?”

Trying to stop suddenly and move, Y/N tripped over her own feet and had to grab the wall to stay upright; Benimaru was a little more aware and twisted himself out of the way elegantly. “Since when were you that clumsy?”

“Shut up, Beni,” she huffed and then smirked at him, “The wall was going to attack you - I saved your life.” He rolled his eyes and barely a moment later his hands were at her lower back and hip, steadying her on her feet but lingering after he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. Benimaru was staring at her again, scanning, searching for something so intensely it made her cheeks feel warm and Y/N looked away.

“Hey,” the Captain brushed his hand over her the top of her head until he could pull her head forward to meet his. With their foreheads pressed together, she could feel her heart beating faster and she gently hooked her fingers into his belt, “You feel warm.” Benimaru worried she was hiding something from him, if she was still sick then all she had to do was tell him and he’d get her medicine… or was it worse than that? It was hard to tell if she was too warm because of his own, naturally higher, temperature.

Still, it was nice being close to Y/N and he felt now was probably the best time to talk to her about their relationship - the way things were drifting and changing.

Winding his arms around the base of her back he brought her closer to him, “You need to start being straight with me, I know something’s going on with you and I think maybe you’ve figured out why I’ve been wandering off so often?” She’d be stupid not to realise his attempt to speak with her and his sudden need to do something, anything, to be away from her. “We’ve been together for a while, even as kids we always hung out, it’s getting a little old…”

Opening her eyes, that she hadn’t realised she’d even closed, Y/N met his mismatched eyes, the circle and cross stark over the ruby of his iris’. He looked too serious and if she was honest it was kind of frightening - Did he know?

“I don’t wanna be your boyfri-”

“Captain Shinmon!” Whatever Benimaru had been about to say was drowned out by Shinra rounding the corner and giving one of his ridiculous, formal salutes, “I’m ready for…uh… I… can come back?” The young man looked at the embracing couple and a small blush came to his cheeks, he had disturbed something quite intimate, hadn’t he?

Y/N forced a smile onto her lips and stepped out of Benimaru’s arms, her hands smoothing down her clothes, “Why come back when Beni can beat you to a pulp now?”

“Y/N! It’s training! I’m here for training!” He didn’t always get beaten up, and sure, the woman often patched him up but that didn’t mean he’d gotten beat up.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s Beni handing your ass to you. I’m sure one day you might graze our God of Destruction here!” Her fingers carded into Shinra’s hair and gave it a ruffle as she made to pass him, “Do your best. I’m going to go buy dinner.” Y/N pat him once more and headed further into the guardhouse.

Shinra blinked as he watched after her, he knew fake smiles when he saw one and that had definitely been one. What was going on? Why was she acting that way? He turned to ask the Captain if Y/N was okay but his eyes widened and he froze. The lack of natural light in the hallway made the glowing eyes of the Captain all the more obvious and there was an air of menace about him, all Shinra could do was grin nervously and let out a pathetic, “Sorry?”

x - -

Konro could feel her hands shaking as she treated the back of his left shoulder, the area was one of his worst for pain and sensitivity, he knew she was being as gentle as she could be but as he took a sharp breath in Y/N placed her hand on his bicep and apologised. She hated making this worse for him and Konro was too stubborn to admit it hurt… or rather, too much of a gentleman to tell her. When she had come into his room to replace his bandages he had noticed she had looked ready to burst into tears.

She was never really one to cry for no real reason, he had known her since she was a little kid and regarded her as something of a little sister - so he was more than concerned at how quiet she was, how upset she seemed to be.

Maybe she was still feeling sick?

A small sniff came from behind him and he finally caved, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” She placed one of the patches from Haijima over the scorched skin of his shoulder blade and taped it carefully in place. A moment of silence later and she tried to tell him in a calm, grown-up way but instead blurted out, “B-Beni’s dumping me!”

He heard a muffled sob and Konro turned around so that he could face her, he placed his hand on her head and pet it gently whilst she cried into her hands, hiding her face from him. There was no way that could be true, absolutely no chance of it, “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, no, he… he-” The words wouldn’t come out.

“Y/N. Take a breath.” Konro was firm with her, his hand now giving her shoulder a little shake, “What happened?”

He glared at the wall at the far end of the training yard for a long moment before sighing loudly, visibly deflating, “And what’s with her napping in the middle of the day and picking at her food and being so sensitive?”

He handed her a clean piece of bandage so that she could wipe her eyes and running nose before waiting patiently for her. “We nearly bumped into each other in the hall and we got to talking… he… he’s been off with me lately, staring at me, running off, trying to say something but then cutting himself off.” It seemed like petty little things but they all added up, “He said… he said, ‘I don’t wanna be your boyfriend’…” Y/N began to cry harder than before, hunching in on herself as she tried to vanish into thin air. “It’s all my fault!” she sobbed, “I’m going to ruin everything! After what the doctor said - I - I’m scared, Konro!” She felt arms around her and went to the man easily, hugging him tight as he tried to calm her. “I’m scared…”

The Lieutenant sometimes forgot that Benimaru and Y/N were still so young, barely out into their twenties. They were both tough, shouldering a lot of responsibility that they shouldn’t have to… Maybe if he’d been stronger they could have relaxed more. “Why are you scared, Y/N? What did the doctor say?” He pulled her away so that he could see her face clearly, “Are you sick?”

x - -

Ruby eyes widened and he nearly spat out his water as Konro told Benimaru about Y/N’s earlier breakdown. The Captain had been taking a break with Shinra when Konro brought them some food and water before telling him about Y/N. “She thinks I’m trying to leave her?!” Benimaru was incredulous at the suggestion, “Are you serious? Is she an idiot?!” How could she think he would even be able to get up in the morning without knowing she was beside him? If anything ever happened to her he would burn the entire Tokyo Empire down if he had to. “Where is she now?”

“She’s sleeping. We kept her up and she’s… she’s got a reason to be exhausted.” Unconsciously he stepped in front of the entrance to prevent Benimaru rushing in to find Y/N. “Look, I know you’re nervous about telling her what you wanna say but you’re freaking her out, Beni.”

“How do I just propose out of the blue? How do I word that shit, Konro?” He blurted out angrily and raked his fingers through his hair, “Stupid Shinra interrupted and she ran off!” Benimaru threw his hand out to point at Shinra who was sat with his mouth open and ramen hanging limply from his chopsticks, feeling overly awkward witnessing the conversation and being blamed. “I’ve been trying for weeks! Every time I open my mouth to ask her I get tense, then I just don’t…”

Konro put his hands on his hips and glanced at Shinra who was trying to pretend he wasn’t there. He knew the answer to Benimaru’s question but it wasn’t for him to say - he had promised to keep it quiet until Y/N was ready. After she had calmed down and finished treating him Konro had told her to go to bed. She was too exhausted and upset to get much done and he was worried about her health too. “You should ask her yourself… sooner rather than later.”

Benimaru’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment, “Oi, Shinra,” he saw the boy jump out of the corner of his eyes, “Finish that up and then I got some errands for you.”

“That’s not training!” He complained loudly

x - -

“Beni…” she could feel her eyes begin to burn with tears and tried harder to pull out of his grasp, “I can’t do this right now, Benimaru. Let go, I need to go!” She felt nauseous, her head was spinning and her stomach was churned as bile started to claw its way up her throat.

Two days passed and nothing had really changed.

Benimaru was still torturing Shinra whilst trying to get a moment alone with Y/N. The woman had been tired lately and by the time he got to bed she was fast asleep, first thing in the morning he would wake up to her throwing up in the adjoining bathroom; it was the first times he was grateful for the perk of not having to share with the whole building.

It was hard to propose to someone who was sleeping, sick or actively avoiding you.

After finishing up a little training with Shinra he headed toward the markets, Benimaru figured she’d be shopping for lunch and catching up with the residents. His eyes swept left to right, searching for her through the busy crowd, “Y/N!” He spotted her at the end of the street heading back towards the Guardhouse, “Oi, I gotta talk to you!” Benimaru shoved past some of the scaffolders fixing another building as he tried to keep an eye on her - he caught up with her and grabbed her wrist, “Didn’t you hear me?” He knew she had and figured she’d been trying to run away from him again.

“Beni,” Y/N tried to pull her hand back, “Let go.”

He refused, “This is important - I’m not putting it off anymore!” He was going to come straight out and say it this time; if anyone interrupted he was going to kill them. “I didn’t wanna do this in the middle of the street but we need to talk.”

“No.” The Captain kept a tight hold and stepped closer, “Y/N, I can’t take it anymore… I wanna- !!” He hadn’t expected her to double over and throw up over his boots; had it been anyone else he would have been angry and shoved them away. Instead, he caught Y/N around the waist as she nearly fell onto her knees. Using one hand to rub her back and moving his body to block her from prying eyes, Benimaru realised she wasn’t running away from him after all. “Sorry…” Benimaru murmured, “I didn’t realise, come on, I’ll take you home.”

When he returned to their room he found her on their futon with the covers over her crossed legs, “Here, it tastes like crap but I hope it helps.”

He left his boots at the door and took her straight to their room, quietly and gently he helped her remove her yukata that she had soiled trying to cover her mouth earlier. He wasn’t put off in the slightest and Benimaru helped clean her up a little before he got her fresh clothes, “Go rinse your mouth and I’ll get you something to help your stomach.”

Guilt gnawed away at him after he had left her to boil the kettle - she must have been so embarrassed to be sick in the street. He hadn’t meant to do that to her…

“Thanks…” They sat in silence, heavy and dense, whilst Y/N took a few sips and mulled over how to tell him - should she tell him? It felt suffocating and then all of a sudden they both looked at each other and spoke.

Another moment of quiet.

“Beni, I’m pregnant.”

“Y/N, marry me.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?”

“A baby?”

“You’ll get what you’re given, Beni.”

Benimaru put his hand over her mouth, “I love you, I’d never break up with you.”

She moved his hand from her mouth with a small frown, “Are you only asking me because you figured out I was pregnant? I don’t want that, I don’t want to hold you back and force you into some dumb honour marriage!”

“I didn’t figure out shit. I just thought you had a bug or something.” Benimaru was a little annoyed with what she was saying but now wasn’t the time for an argument, “I was trying to tell you the other day, this relationship is kinda old now, I’m done with just being your boyfriend and I wanna be your husband. I wanna have the old biddies asking me how my wife is doing… Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

This was a little too much to take in at once and she felt her body getting hot; she was so tired of too many emotions attacking her at once. He loved her and he wanted to be her husband, to stay with her forever and as she looked at him looking at her she felt tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. “I thought you had figured it out… I thought… I thought you wouldn’t want a baby, you already have so much to do and I didn’t want to burden you and - I… I was scared, Beni, I don’t know anything about bab-”

“You’re not a burden.” He cut her off and pulled her onto his lap as he saw her burst into tears, “You say I have too much to do already but you’re the one keeping us all fed and watered. You look after the twins better than anyone and you’re great with kids. You keep me in line, you help Konro… I was hoping we could try for kids in a few years or something but you always were impatient…” The man felt Y/N grumble into his shoulder, wiping her face on his coat, but she sounded better than a moment ago, “I want a girl.”

“Isn’t a wife supposed to be obedient?”

She jabbed him in the ribs and wriggled back a little to half glare at him, “I haven’t agreed to marry you yet.”

This was better, he stroked her cheek with his fingers and smiled as she nuzzled into it, “As if you’d say no - who else you gonna marry here?”

Y/N shrugged and pretended to give it a little thought, “Shinra’s kind of sweet.”

A smirk flashed across Benimaru’s face and he hugged her close again, “Can’t marry him if he’s dead.”

“Can’t marry him if he’s dead.”

It was still a frightening thing, she was having a baby and now she was getting married. Everything was changing and for the first time, Y/N realised it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Then a different thought struck her, “Beni… where is Shinra?”

[43sparrows]

l o n g e d - {Five x Reader AU}

Read Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 / Part 3.5

Warning: smut

Word Count: 2,713

Note: please come scream at me in my inbox

Call me.

You've been dreading this note from Five for the past week. It's not that the words are new--a week ago, it would've been excitement causing the twisting feeling in your stomach--but it's the fact that this is the first note you've gotten since you're meltdown. Sure, he'd brushed off your apology, but it's been almost a full week since you've seen each other, and something just doesn't feel the same. Even your roommate has noticed something's off, and while you've shared the news about your ex, you can't bring yourself to tell her how you've gone and proven yourself to be more work than you're worth to Five. So, while the note itself is normal enough, you have the sinking sensation that this is his version of "We need to talk."

And you don't want to talk.

That's why it takes you hours to finally steel yourself up enough to return his call. The sky's growing dark by the time you dial in the number, standing in the hall with you head tilted back against the wall, the phone cord weaving between your fingers.

"Five." His brusque voice makes you want to hang up the phone. Instead, you adjust your grip and tug at the cord.

"Hey," you say, softly. "It's Y/N."

"Took you long enough." His voice is still flirting with being abrasive, but he's saying more than just a couple of words which must mean something. You're not sure what though. "What are you doing in...two hours?"

Confusion knits your brow together as you wrap the cord around one of your fingers. "Nothing, I'm free."

"Howling Rock Cafe. I'll be at the bar."

"Ok," you agree. There's a pause and then the other end of the line goes dead.

You sigh before slowly untangling yourself from the cord so you can hang up the phone and get ready

It's glaringly obvious within the first few seconds of entering the bar that this is not Five's scene.

You can't help but compare this place to the smoky night club where you first met.  It's like night and day--and not just because this place has strobe lights bathing just about every inch of the room in colorful lights.

For one, it seems to be crawling with barely legal drinkers. It's not like the two of you are that far removed in age from the rest of the crowd, but Five doesn't exactly seem the type to want to relive college nights out.

And then there's a cover band with the amps turned up way too high as they work their way through pop covers. You miss the lyric-less music of the other bar with its relentless beat that seemed to reverberate in your chest.

It crosses your mind that maybe Five had meant another place or that you'd misheard him on the phone, but then you catch sight of him sitting at the bar with a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

"What are you drinking?" You ask, slipping into the seat next to him. He looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, pupils already blown wide. His gaze slides from the curve of your breasts that disappear beneath the plunging neckline of your little black dress down to your legs.

His eyes flick back up to meet yours. "Brandy. For now."

The line would be clumsy on another man's lips, but something about the way he says it has you dizzy, and it's the one piece of Five that's seemed anywhere close to normal since that night.

You tear your eyes away from him, flagging down the bartender to order yourself a gin, neat.

"So," you say, anxiety knotting in the pit of your stomach as you toy with the question that's been on your mind the entire way to the bar. "Howl's?" You change course last second, asking a different, less terrifying question.

"I've heard things about this place," Five said with a shrug. "Figured I'd check them out."

"What'd you hear?" It's genuine curiosity, and maybe it's the refocused attention or maybe it's the large gulp of gin, but you feel yourself relaxing slightly.

"I heard they're heavy pourers," Five says, taking a sip of his drink. He lifts both eyebrows and places the glass back down on the bar.  "But it would seem I heard wrong."

You laugh. Nothing about this place suggests they have strong drinks. The prices are too cheap. The crowd is too young.

"At least the atmosphere is nice," you quip, and Five looks around the room before shooting you a mildly amused look. He opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by a loud group of co-eds who just walked in the door. You turn to look. One is draped in a pink "It's my birthday!" sash. This does not bode well.

"Let's go back to mine. I've restocked," you offer, but Five shakes his head. You wait for him to share a reason or even pick up the sentence he didn't get out, but he doesn't, instead taking another sip of his subpar brandy.

You wish that you had your own drink in front of you, shooting a look at the bartender who looks to be making about four drinks at once. The knot inside of you has come back, growing even tighter as the silence extends. Silence has never been uncomfortable with Five before.

You attribute this largely to the fact that up until this point you've always been so careful about following the rules of engagement, as it were. And while you don't know for sure, it feels like you're guilty of a breach of contract. You wish you could remember what you said, but you can hardly even remember what you did. It's all a blur.

You know he came over, you announced your ex's engagement, and then he tucked you into bed and made sure you had coffee the next morning.

There had to have been more to that night than just that, though. Because emotions and caretaking--that wasn't part of the deal.

Then again, neither was going out to bars.

The  bartender placed your gin in front of you and gratefully you took a long drink from it. You could feel Five's eyes on you as you lowered the glass back down.

"That kind of day?" he asked.

You returned your attention to him. "That kind of week," you corrected. He nodded and toasted you with his own glass before the both of you drank.

You tapped your finger lightly against the side of your gin, the alcohol had yet to take hold but you could feel the warming sensation flowing through you. It was enough of a comfort to know that soon the nerves that had been humming beneath your skin all week would be quiet. "So, why are we here?" The words slipped past your lips, earning a raised eyebrow from Five.

"I told you, I wanted to check this place out."

"That's it?" Your finger still beat steadily against the side of your glass.

You could see the awareness dawn on Five, a sly smile twisting at his lips. "I can't just want your company?"

Your heart skipped a beat. Or maybe it was three. And although the alcohol was supposed to have you pleasantly numb, instead you felt like you were on fire. "I would have thought you had enough of my company after last week."

Realization reached his eyes this time as he shook his head at you. "No," he said, angling his body more towards yours. "I haven't had enough."

The two of you are in the bathroom two hours later.

As far as bar bathrooms go, it's surprisingly clean and roomy. The second part is probably due to the fact the owners had opted for a single use closet style bathroom as opposed to anything remotely functional for the size of the crowd this place has drawn in with it's mediocre music and watered down drinks.

It's not the worst place to have sex, but if you were in your right mind you probably would have insisted that Five pop you back to your place instead. But the consecutive drinks and Five's hand trailing up your thigh had been so intoxicating, you didn't even protest when he took your hand in his and dragged you in here to push you up against the sink.

His mouth is on your neck now, his teeth lightly nipping at the skin there, his hands keeping your dress bunched up at your waist. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he moves your panties to the side, pressing a finger into you. "Five," you mumble, a moan escaping you as he curls his finger.

"Louder," Five commands, his lips grazing against your neck, moving down to trail love bites along your collarbone. He pushes into you again, and his name falls from your lips again, this time at a normal volume.

"Louder," Five urges, kissing under your jaw, as you fist the back of his shirt in your hands. Your entire body feels like a taut string, and he's just getting started. You know this has to be quick, there's probably going to be a line outside, but the way his fingers are moving has effectively killed all thoughts outside of the fact that you haven't lost him. He's still, in some small way, yours.

"Five, please," you plead, and you're not quite sure what you're pleading for--release or more of him.

"Fuck," he swears, withdrawing from you and spinning you around, so you have both hands on either side of the sink, your ass exposed to him. He leans in close, and you can feel the length of his entire body against your back.  "I love it when you beg." His whisper is hot in your ear, and a needy gasp leaves you. Dirty talk isn't part of the usual routine, and you didn't expect it to have such an effect.

He withdraws, his fingers tucking into the sides of your underwear and dragging them down to your knees. Behind you, you hear his buckle clink as he frees himself from his pants. It's a second more of anticipation before his hands find your hips, and he slowly enters you, allowing you to feel each inch of him. His fingers dig into your hips as a groan leaves him. Warmth blooms in your chest, and you promise yourself that you'll remember this moment and that sound forever.

Five continues to move at a sensual pace, and your eyes flick up to the mirror, taking in his face. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and an intense but unidentifiable feeling builds in you. And then his hips unexpectedly snap into yours, earning him a loud moan.

It also seems to earn a knock at the door.

"Alright guys, wrap it up. Other people need to use the bathroom," a gruff voice says on the other side of the door.

It might have been a bit of a mood killer if it weren't for the fact that Five repeats the motion, leaving you gasping. He pulls you up close to him, one hand on your hip and the other toying with your breast. "Can't leave them waiting," he grunts, and your head lolls back onto his shoulder. Despite the fact that it's been shorter than the vast majority of your sessions together, you're more of a needy mess then you've ever been. Maybe it's the combination of the alcohol and publicness and the sounds coming from Five, but whatever it is, it's not long before you're cumming, and not long after, he is too.

There's now pounding at the door.

"Come on, you guys gotta get out. Let's go."

Five smirks at you from where he's pulling his pants back up--or at least, if he was anyone else you'd call it a smirk. It's softer than usual though--although it's still not quite a smile. Like you're in on the joke with him. It makes your heart beat a little faster, and you're just able to stop yourself from a full blown smile, the corners of your mouth turning down in an attempt to seem cool as usual. He gestures with his head towards the door, and after checking yourself in the mirror and making yourself seem slightly more presentable, you follow him out, keeping your eyes trained on the floor so you don't have to look at the bouncer or line of people waiting by the door.

Unfortunately, the bouncer seems to have other plans.

"Y/N?"

You know that voice. Without the door between you and the fake gruffness, it's clear as day, and it feels a bit like someone has dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. You feel painfully sober.

Your eyes widen, and you turn to see your ex dressed in the black t-shirt and jeans, looking just as shocked to see you.

"Oh my God," you mumble.

"Uh--" he says, pointing to the door, and you make your way towards it, Five still next to you, and your ex following up behind you. You stop just beside the door, across from where another bouncer is checking IDs.

"Sorry, I--you can't stay." He does seem genuinely apologetic, and you're not sure if it's just the awkwardness of the whole situation or if he really feels bad.

"No, no. I get it," you shake your head. Five's hand drifts to the small of your back, and your previously blank mind remembers that oh yeah--he's here too. This is the worst moment of your life. "Oh, this is, um, Five. Five, this is Jordan. We...we used to date." That seems like a wildly simplistic introduction for both of them, but you're still reeling.

"Five? Like the kid from The Umbrella Academy?"

Five's smile is so fake you wouldn't be surprised if Jordan could also sense the thinly veiled animosity. "The very same," Five says, holding out his hand and shaking Jordan's. His arm returns around you.

Jordan looks like he's a mixture of confused and impressed, and before this situation can get any worse, you open your mouth and start saying words, hoping they come out in order and make sense.

"I didn't know you work here."

Jordan's eyes linger on Five for a second more before meeting yours. "Yeah, I had to pick up another job...I'm getting married."

"Oh, congratulations." you say less than earnestly, pushing hair behind your ear. Emotion swirls in your chest, pressure building to react--to sob, to scream, to sink into the ground. Anything but stand here.

"Well," Five says, coming to your rescue. "I should take her home." You look up at him, and there's a ghost of smugness on his face. If you hadn't studied him for so long, you might have missed the look, but it's there.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Jordan nods, stepping back towards the bar. "It was good to see you, Y/N."

It's a lie. But he's not the only liar here. "You too," you say nodding. "Good luck with the wedding."

"Thanks," he nods again like a bobblehead, and you turn and head out the door quickly with Five.

The two of you walk down the sidewalk and towards the parking garage in silence. It's not until you're passing rows of cars that Five speaks.  "Did you drive?"

You shake your head, your thoughts still on the way Five had handled that situation. You have a terrible feeling.

It's unspoken that Five will give you a ride home, so you don't bother to ask for a ride. Instead, you save up your question, waiting until the two of you are stopped at a red light, halfway home to ask.

"Did you know he worked there?"

The corner of Five's mouth turns up. "Might have been a thing I heard about that place."

You have more questions, but you don't want to ask them. That one was enough to shatter the illusion you'd been creating all night.

That he had brought you out because he wanted your company.

That he might return a hint of the feelings you had for him.

That this was something other than what it was.

Read the final part

[junicai]

boil over.

| summary | Aria gives Jaemin some tough love (and then hugs)

| word count | 2.1k

| warnings | 1 (one) curse word

| era | circa. 2017, Jaemin’s hiatus

29. “NO! You can’t get up, you’re my prisoner for today.”

40. “Get out.”

a/n: anon i am so sorry. u said it would be funny i - it took a turn and i couldnt save it im so sorry

“Nana?” 

Aria knocked gently on Jaemin’s closed bedroom door with one hand, rapping her knuckles against the dark wood while her other hand balanced a plate in her palm precariously. 

There was no response heard through the door, and Aria frowned. She raised her fist again, knocking once again. “Jaemin? You asleep?” 

A low groan sounded this time, and Aria could hear the rustling of his bed sheets. 

“Can I come in?” 

“No.” Jaemin’s voice was rough with unuse, petulant to the point where Aria could hear the pout she knew he was donning in his tone.

“Too bad,” Aria shrugged, hand pressing the door handle open regardless, “Please don’t be naked.”

A spluttered sound came from inside the room when Aria pushed open the door, eyes trained on the ground. Stepping inside, the door closed behind her with a soft click and she heard the tell-tale rustle of Jaemin’s bedsheets that he was trying to adjust himself into a sitting position.

“Nana,” Aria scolded, turning briefly to place the plate down on the desk on the opposite side of the room before crossing the floor in three quick strides to make it to Jaemin’s bedside. Her hands reached out to help him lift himself but stopped in mid-air when a glare was sent her way.

“Get out.”

Aria could tell the words were meant to be cold, but they just came out petulant when accompanied by the slight whine Jaemin let out immediately following another attempt to push himself upright. 

“Oh shush,” Aria muttered, hands slipping underneath the sheet to place one on the small of his back and using the other to press his shoulders up. Slowly, Jaemin shuffled into a more sitting-like position, back pillowed up by several pillows that had been gathered onto his bed from around the dorm.

The Dreamies had banded together and collected what pillows they could spare - Jisung offering both pillows from his bed until Jeno reminded him that he actually needed one of those if he didn’t want to have neck pain every single morning for the foreseeable future. 

Stepping back from Jaemin, Aria placed her hands on her hips, eyebrow cocked at the boy who laid sheepishly in his bed, covers tucked underneath his chin.

“How’re you feeling?” Aria asked.

“I’m alright,” Jaemin said, dismissing her with a shrug. 

“So. Do you want to explain why you’ve spent the last two weeks moping in your bedroom and I had to find out about it after coming back from practice today? Or shall I find Injunnie and let him explain?” Aria said, head tilted to the left. 

Jaemin’s eyes fell away from Aria’s face, suddenly finding interest in the pattern-less sheets that covered his bed. His fingers played with the off-white material while his teeth nibbled on his bottom lip. 

Aria let out a sigh, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. It sank slightly underneath her weight, and Aria shuffled backwards so she was sitting comfortably. 

“Nana, it’s ok. It sucks. I know.”

“Do you?” 

Aria looked up surprised, eyebrows furrowing as she looked at Jaemin’s face. There were deep purple rings beneath his eyes but his skin was clearer; the lack of make-up was doing him good. Slightly thinner - the look all of them get when they’d been too busy to find time to eat a meal. By the plate on the floor beside his bed, still with a good deal of food on it - Aria wasn’t sure if it was the lack of time or the lack of desire.

 He looked tired, but also ticked, like something she’d said had rubbed him the wrong way.

“I don’t think you do.” Jaemin’s voice wasn’t angry, but his words held weight to them regardless.

Aria sat back slightly, taken aback by the sudden change of tone. “What-”

“I don’t think you understand this at all,” Jaemin interrupted her, pushing himself further upright with another small wince. “I don’t think a single person understands what its like to be told, a year after debuting that I’m going to have to take a six month or more hiatus. I don’t think you understand that I’m sitting her, watching you all go to practice and learn new dance routines and promote; and I’m being left behind. I don’t think you get the fact that it feels like I’ve been gut punched, and then told to walk it off!”

“Nana no that’s not what’s happening-”

“It is! It is what’s happening and you’re lying to me when you say it’s not. Its like trainee days but worse because I can’t even go to the practice room. Hell, I can’t even go home because the company doesn’t want me seen outside. So I’m stuck here, alone, no one else in the dorms for the most part of the day, can’t go see my family like you normally can on a hiatus, can’t do anything except sit here and be useless! Do you know what that’s like? I can’t see my parents, I can’t practice, I can’t do what I trained to do for years and you’re telling me that you understand? Bullshit.” Jaemin was yelling now, all the words that had been building up exploding on the wrong person.

Aria felt her teeth break the skin of her lip. 

“So,forgive me, for staying in my room all day. I just didn’t fancy having to drag you all away from practice to make sure I didn’t fall over myself on the way to the bathroom.” With a resounding bite in his words, Jaemin settled himself against the pillow again. 

It seemed like the conversation was over, Jaemin with his gaze fixed downwards on his extended legs. Aria kept her eyes upwards, blinking rapidly. But the fact that they were both still sitting in silence made the atmosphere fill up with tension like a bubbling pot that was half an inch away from an overflow. 

Jaemin had his hands folded in his lap, fingers toying with the unravelling string on the hem of his t-shirt as he refused to look back up. 

The pot boiled.

“I’m sorry.”

That, was not what he was expecting. 

“I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me. You’re right, I don’t know what it feels like.”

Suddenly, Jaemin was simultaneously infinitely grateful and incredibly disappointed that it was Aria whom he was having this conversation with. 

Had it been Donghyuck, he could only imagine the screaming match it would have turned into. Donghyuck was always quick to lose his cool when someone was being uncooperative, and Jaemin was looking to get a rise out of someone. It wasn’t even that Jaemin was unwilling to talk to them anymore, it was the fact that he insinuated the fact that they didn’t care about him? Donghyuck would have brought the walls down; and Jaemin doesn’t know if that’s something he craved at this moment or not.  

Renjun would have simply turned around and left the second Jaemin got huffy - the older boy had minimal patience for things like this, and liked to remove himself from the situation before he said something he would regret. 

Aria, on the other hand, would sit there and let Jaemin yell at her for however long he needed to with her head bowed and hands in her lap. She wouldn’t yell back, wouldn’t rise to meet his anger but would sit there calmly until it fizzled out like a candle wick burned down to the end, wax spilling over slowly until it hardened and became stagnant once more. 

Jaemin didn’t think he really wanted to yell; not anymore. 

Aria still wasn’t looking at him, choosing instead to focus her gaze on the top of his headboard. Her eyes were darting back and forth slightly, like she wanted to look down at him but kept thinking better of it. 

“I don’t know what it feels like, but what I do know is that it’s not going to get better if you hole yourself up in a room for six months,” Aria explained, hands curling into fists.

“The only thing you’re doing is making it worse, Nana. So so much worse for yourself - we don’t care about having to help you do things, we don’t care about being a few minutes late to practice because you needed something from the kitchen and just couldn’t face getting up again; we don’t care. And I need you to look at me right now and tell me you understand that.”

Jaemin looked at her. 

“We don’t care,” Aria spoke softer now. “What we care about is the fact that you’re in pain right now, and we care about what we can do to help you fix that.”

Jaemin let his face scrunch up, a retort forming on the tip of his tongue. 

“There’s no shame in asking for help, Jaemin.”

Jaemin sunk, boneless, into the pillows supporting him - a crack being multiplied by ten and suddenly shattering. The pot boiled, spilling over the sides and splashing down. Tears spilled over Jaemin’s cheeks, shoulders shaking as a fist was shoved into his mouth to stop himself from making a sound. 

“Oh, Nana,” Aria’s voice was saddened, a deep blue colour as she moved to lie beside Jaemin on the bed while being careful not to jostle the boy. “Please don’t cry, it’s okay.”

Jaemin only cried harder, teeth making indents in his skin until his hand was puled gently but insistently from his mouth and was being held in Aria’s hands. With no muffler there, a sob ripped itself from his chest and he choked at the force of it. 

Aria only moved closer, pushing herself up the bed slightly to allow Jaemin to hide his face in her chest as he cried. 

Jaemin shook through his cries, Aria running a hand through his hair the entire time. It was knotted, like he hadn’t brushed through it in a few days and she made a note to bring in one of their hairbrushes later on when he was asleep. 

Slowly, his sobs petered out into small sniffles, Aria’s shirt soaked through but she paid no mind to the wet material sticking to her skin. Her back ached slightly from the odd position she had forced herself into to ensure that Jaemin wouldn’t be twisted uncomfortably.

Jaemin’s breaths evened out again over the next ten minutes or so, eventually to the point that Aria was sure that the boy had fallen asleep until he shifted slightly to look up at her from his position lying on her chest. 

His red eyes were stark against his pale skin, and Aria never thought she’d be jealous of how prettily someone cried and yet here she was. 

Jaemin rubbed at his nose slightly with the corner of his sheet, sniffling and then sneezing when the loose ends tickled his nose. He let out a watery laugh, throat clogged slightly and he cleared it when Aria began to smile despite herself.

He choked out another weak laugh before pressing himself back into Aria’s side. 

The air stilled around them, the pot taken off the heat and now cooling in the aftermath. 

Aria kept her hand carding through his hair, letting her other hand move to rub gently at Jaemin’s ear in a soothing gesture now that she didn’t need to keep herself elevated slightly. 

Her arms ached, but she paid no mind to it, instead choosing to delicately open their little pocket of serenity. 

“You’re so important to us, Nana. You can’t forget that.”

Jaemin declined to respond, instead choosing to hide his face further into the material of Aria’s clothes. 

“Even if this hiatus takes seven, or eight months. Or a year. There’s always a place for you in Dream. Always.”

This time Jaemin sniffled, still refusing to speak but let his hand come up from underneath the sheets to intertwine with Aria’s. She squeezed it lightly, holding it tight in her grasp. 

They stayed that way for another while, Jaemin slowly falling into sleep while Aria pet his hair. 

“Nana,” Aria whispered, moving closer so that he would hear her.

Jaemin made a small hum in acknowledgement. 

“I have to go prep dinner for the others, they should be back soon.” Aria apologized.

There was nothing for a second, and then Jaemin was craning up to look back at Aria; eyes wide and sparkling. 

“Stay?”

Aria stayed.

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

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I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said. 

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt. 

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush. 

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day. 

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things. 

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again. 

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table. 

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.” 

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?” 

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.” 

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.” 

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.” 

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger. 

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend. 

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left. 

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.  

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded. 

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.” 

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?” 

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet. 

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head. 

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.” 

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers. 

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up. 

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet. 

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work. 

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly. 

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said. 

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister. 

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.” 

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice. 

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?” 

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?” 

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face. 

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?” 

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.” 

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.” 

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her. 

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.” 

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart. 

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve. 

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth. 

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand. 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide. 

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household. 

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said. 

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.” 

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.” 

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window. 

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!” 

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said. 

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.” 

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship. 

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”  

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be. 

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself. 

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights. 

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages. 

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat. 

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid. 

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.” 

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?” 

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.” 

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess. 

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in. 

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate. 

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie. 

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full. 

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?” 

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.” 

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her. 

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things. 

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him. 

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question. 

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again. 

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy. 

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?” 

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place. 

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared. 

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb. 

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning. 

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away. 

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course. 

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine. 

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise. 

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted. 

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite. 

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs. 

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide. 

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner. 

“Jamie Taylor?” 

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her. 

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different. 

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment. 

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away. 

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware. 

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met. 

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable. 

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress. 

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself. 

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring. 

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin. 

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed. 

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked. 

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake. 

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning. 

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed. 

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?” 

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.  

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away. 

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed. 

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned. 

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified. 

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively. 

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. 

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

[raichijin]

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition.  ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it. 

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better. 

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger. 

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell. 

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.” 

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh. 

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on. 

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back.  ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?” 

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?” 

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply. 

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he? 

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it. 

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right. 

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming. 

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.” 

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess." 

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

 what the fuck is wrong with you?

 who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me? 

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying. 

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults. 

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon. 

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all. 

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ;  @mitsusuri​ @okayshin​ @tamasoft

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 2

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, alcohol, loneliness

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here’s a little gift from me to you 😌 I hope you like it! Let me know what you think in the comments below.

8 years later

Winter in DC was too cold. It had reached that time of year when the roads turned icy at the slightest humidity in the air, and it had already snowed at least twice since December began. Thankfully, the snow didn’t stick around very long; FBI agents were on-call 24/7. A double-edged sword, really. On one hand, it meant work was a great way to avoid problems. It was easier to forget. On the other hand, well, it was work.

“Six years in this city and it’s still so fucking cold,” Erin muttered to herself, shivering as her car warmed up. She buried her face into the scarf wrapped around her neck, trying to warm up. The warmth from the heated steering wheel seeped into her fingers, soothing the ache in her joints. She was supposed to meet Sachi at the bar for drinks. It had become a regular event in her weekly life; one night a week to go out and relax.

Some would’ve said that her promotion meant she could take more time off. That she could delegate a little more and take on a lighter workload as a result. But as a supervisor for the Operational Technologies branch, she had all the more reason to work more. Well, that’s what she convinced herself, at least.

Her friend and coworker, Sachi, was already seated at a table by the time she arrived. The bar was pretty busy, busier than the week before. It made sense; the holidays were always a time for friends and family to catch up on each other’s lives.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, a meeting went overtime and I ran into some traffic on the way here,” Erin apologized, draping her wool coat over the back of her seat and sitting down. The next article to be shed was her scarf, which she kept piled on her lap. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, no worries,” her friend answered, shrugging. “I just got this table a couple minutes ago. Happy hour seems extra popular this week. How was the meeting?”

She rolled her eyes. “The usual; operations found some bugs in the new software and had some suggestions, so half of the developers will be working on that while the rest continue building our newest tool. How did your day go?”

“It was so slow, I don’t know which politician decided to choose yesterday to fuck up, but there were files everywhere,” Sachi groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Her eyes landed on the sparkling gem on Erin’s hand. “I do have a question for you, though: why do you wear that ring?”

She raised a dark brow, then followed her line of sight to her hand. “Oh, this? It’s….it’s just something to keep the men away, that’s all. You know how they are.”

A curious head tilt. “I do, but are you sure that’s what you want? You deserve to find someone who makes you happy, Rin.”

Erin gave her a tight-lipped smile, twisting the metal band around her finger. It was a recent purchase; a gift to herself. A promise. A promise to remember. Even if he wasn’t hers to remember, at the end of the day.

“Is this still about that Marcus Pike guy?” Sachi asked, her voice softening as Erin avoided looking up. She reached across the table and covered her hand with hers. The glittering band of her own wedding ring seemed to mock her. “It’s been seven years since he went missing, Rin. You searched for him yourself; he’s gone.”

The news had broken just before Erin arrived in DC. Marcus Pike had gone missing, and there seemed to be no trace of him. His last known address was empty, his file had been wiped from all government databases, even his social media accounts were nonexistent.

One of the first things she did after her promotion was asking for a search squad. His number was still in her phone, but the number was no longer receiving calls. Even his email seemed to be deactivated, but it had existed before. There should’ve been a digital trail. It didn’t matter to her that it had been months since he was last seen–he was her best friend, and she wasn’t going to give up on him that easily.

Juggling her work with the investigation took its toll on her. Sleep eluded her, so she upped her coffee intake and spent countless hours off the clock. As a result, exhaustion settled in mid-day. Her work grew sloppy, obvious problems going untended and creating delays in operations.

The head of the department shut down her search after a year. He had cited it being a “waste of resources.” Maybe it was, to them. For such a large bureau with so many applicants, there was bound to be a replacement for Agent Pike. But even so, no one could replace Marcus.

“I know,” she replied softly. “I know. I’m trying, it’s just...I’ve spent years working for the FBI, and every time I stop to check the time, it’s like months have passed. And you know how my last relationship ended.”

She had been seeing a guy working for a tech startup, and at first it was great. The late nights and morning texts had been enough. But as time went on, and she became more immersed in her work following the election, her boyfriend grew restless. He wanted his girlfriend at home with him, preparing dinner and asking him about his day at the startup. Then he started the accusations. He accused her of cheating, of rubbing her success in his face.

Everything he said was false, but she had given up on trying to convince him. So she gave him a choice. He could leave if he wanted to, and there would be no hard feelings, just incompatibility. Or, he could stay, and she’d try to make more time for him. He chose the former.

“Oh come on,” Sachi reasoned, tapping the back of her hand. “You’re beautiful, smart, can kick ass. There has to be someone who’s into that.”

“Maybe,” Erin shrugged. Once upon a time, she had hoped she would meet someone like that. And in a way, she had. But at the end of the day,  she was a coward. She was a coward, and she paid the price for it.

They always said that time was money. In her case, the price she paid was high.

Sachi’s eyes lit up. “You know what? Why don’t you come to a holiday party I’m hosting? Maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

“Who’s going?”

“Some of our coworkers, some of my friends, and their friends, potentially,” she listed off, waving off her concern. “Nothing very special, in my opinion.”

A party would be nice. If not for the company, then for the food; and if not the food, then the drinks. Yes, the drinks. Drinks were good.

Erin conceded with a nervous grin. “Alright, but no meddling!”

“Yay!” she squealed. Then, her expression turned serious again. She pointed at the ring. “But whatever you do, don’t wear that.”

---

Sachi’s house looked like it was out of a movie. Tall and sparkling with lights, her home was the textbook picture of a family Christmas. There was even a wreath on the front door and a wooden sign with drawn-on snowflakes that welcomed the party guests.

The foyer was lined with emerald garlands and shimmering fairy lights, leading her further in towards the kitchen. From giant gold ornaments to wooden figurines, it seemed as if she had thought of everything.

When she reached the kitchen, there were already some guests gathered around the kitchen island. Platters of sweets and charcuterie boards were spread over the marble countertop, glistening in the soft light. The guests grazed from small plates as they greeted each other and raved about how great it was to finally catch up.

Perhaps she’d host her own holiday party someday. When she had the space, of course. The apartment that she’d chosen wasn’t the best for groups, and she wanted enough surface area for decorations. Her string of lights and small tree at home paled in comparison to the giant tree in Sachi’s living room.

The invite had specified a semi-formal dress code, so she chose a black off-the-shoulder dress that reached her knees. She paired it with some black heels and a white blazer draped over her shoulders for warmth. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

“Erin!” Sachi squealed, coming over to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re right on time. Everyone else should be arriving soon.” She shooed her away. “Go have fun! And if you need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back.”

Erin shivered as Sachi swept off her jacket, the cool air brushing against her shoulders. Nevertheless, she smiled. “Thanks.”

“Of course!” she replied. The next thing she knew, a glass of champagne was tucked into her hand. “Now go!”

What Sachi had failed to tell her, though, was that she was going to be one of the only singles in the entire house.

Wherever she turned, she found couples congregated into circles where they could discuss...whatever couples discussed. Not wanting to barge in as a third, fifth, or seventh wheel, she stuck close to  the perimeter of the room.

Thankfully, she found an acquaintance from work who had also come to the party alone.

“Waiting for someone?” Ashley asked, sipping from a half-empty glass of wine. She was one of the receptionists for the technologies department. They’d spoken a couple times, but never much more than professional talk.

Erin shook her head and finished her third glass of champagne. Maybe she’d try the moscato next, just to change things up a little. The whole point of attending the party was to relax, right? So, she was trying to relax. “Just trying to loosen up. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a party.” A soft laugh. “I can see why people like bringing a friend along. It would help a lot.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” At the lack of response, she sighed. “Is work still taking up a lot of time? You know you can take more time off.”

Yes, she knew. She’d heard it nearly a thousand times already. She knew she could take time off just like she knew she could forget about her past and move on. Part of her wanted to change, to move on as if nothing had happened. But after years of the same routine, and the same decisions coming back to bite her, it was hard to change.

“I know,” Erin replied, pressing a hand against her forehead. It was hotter than normal–did Sachi turn up the heating? She silently cursed her genetics; she’d probably have a fever later that night. “But as you know, there’s always more work to do. I signed up for this, so I need to do my job.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t rest,” she reasoned, nudging her arm. “Are you still leading the search for that guy? Marcus Pike? I remember you were pretty involved with that.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the alcohol. She gripped the glass a bit tighter. Her voice was clipped as she said, “No, I’m not. The search squad was disbanded years ago. We spent a year searching for him and there was nothing. There was nothing.” She swayed as she stood up, but quickly regained her balance. “I’m gonna….get another drink. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“No thanks,” Ashley replied. Watching as Erin stumbled, she asked, “Are you sure you want another drink? Maybe you should take a break first.”

She waved her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just the shoes.”

Yeah, right.

Erin’s turn around the corner was much too sharp, and her sluggish mind barely seemed to register the fact that she collided with a broad chest. Strong arms came up around her, holding her in place so she didn’t fall over. They were warm. Before she could stop herself, she splayed her hands on their chest, brows furrowed. What did Sachi put in there?

Then, she looked up and met the person’s eyes. Dark brown ones, to be exact. With a depth and sparkle that she hadn’t seen since Austin. Softly, she said, “M-Marcus?”

The man’s lips parting in shock. As Erin’s slightly-blurred gaze drifted down to his mouth, she frowned. No, it couldn’t be her Marcus; her Marcus didn’t have facial hair, nor did he wear glasses. He was handsome, though–just as handsome. And he was strong–she felt safer in his arms than she had in years.

“H-how do you know my name?”

His voice was similar, too, though a bit raspier.

She blinked. Then, it dawned on her; it wasn’t a dream. She really was at a party, in a dress pressed up against a very good-looking man who looked vaguely like her late best friend. It felt as if she had jumped into the snow without clothes on. She blushed and flinched away from him–as if she needed to be even redder–and said, “Sorry, you just look a bit like an old friend of mine. His name was also Marcus.”

It was her, Marcus realized. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, and when she looked up at him with those dark, green-flecked eyes, his years in Texas came rushing back to him. Part of him didn’t want to believe it. What was she doing in DC? And what were the chances that they’d meet again, with his changed identity?

Even so, she was as beautiful as he remembered, her smooth black hair styled into shining waves and her full lips painted a muted pink. In their time as friends, he rarely saw Erin out of her work clothes; a side effect of working for the FBI. Seeing her in a dress, and up close, against his chest felt like a dream. A dream that had plagued his mind for nearly a decade.

At the same time, she looked different. There was an air of exhaustion that clung to her just as tightly as her authority. Her eyes didn’t have the same bright sparkle that she had on her first day. He wondered if her smile was the same, and if she still took her coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream. If she still collected houseplants as if they were pets. If she was still the Erin he remembered.

The tugging in his chest pulled him towards her, and the old whisper of Marcus Pike urged him to tell the truth. To drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. To tell her that he was sorry for leaving her, for dismissing her concerns about Lisbon. For disappearing without a trace. But Marcus Moreno, his new identity, his new life, knew it wouldn’t be fair to her.

So he introduced himself. A wave of relief washed over him as Erin giggled softly and shook his hand, telling him her name.

He’d missed her laugh, and the way the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly when she was happy. He missed everything. He missed her.

“So,” she began, swaying a little. Her last drink was finally kicking in. Her brows furrowed in concentration. “How do you know, uh, Sachi?”

The little furrow of her brows was still adorable; he knew it only showed when she was thinking really hard. He just hoped she would remember their interaction in the morning. She rarely drank enough to get drunk, not wanting to bother with her body’s violent reaction to alcohol. Or so she told him.

“I’m a friend of her husband,” he replied, touching her arm softly as she swayed again. “Do you…do you want to sit down for a bit? We can keep talking, I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Erin hummed softly and nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry, I can handle a little fall.”

“I don’t doubt you can, Miss FBI.” Realizing his mistake, he cringed. So much for trying to have a fresh start. He guided her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down in the seat next to her.

She frowned. “How do you know I work for the FBI?”

A pause. Then, he answered, “I overheard Sachi talking about you. You two seem to be pretty close.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, she answered, “I guess so, yeah. She was one of my first friends after I moved here six years ago.” Her eyes glazed over with a tinge of sadness. “Time seems to be flying by very fast these days.”

Marcus sighed softly. “Yeah.” He offered her a smile that made her heart flutter. Or maybe that was just her stomach?  “I guess it’s up to us to make the most out of it, right?”

She nodded. Propping her head up against her hand, she replied, “Definitely. So, tell me about yourself, Marcus Moreno. I think you mentioned a daughter?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Missy. If there was anything he didn’t regret in the past few years, it was meeting his late wife and raising his baby. But the story of his wife could come later; for now, he wanted to tell his best friend about his little girl.

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[one-boring-person]

Could you do a poly with all the boys being secret admirers(?) leaving lil hints and gifts at the SO house because they don’t know how to flirt without scaring ppl and don’t want to scare her and Paul gets caught placing a gift at her door cause he’s a dummy (sorry this is so odd!)

It's not odd, don't worry! I had fun writing this!💛💛💛 I hope you like it!!

You?

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: none

Masterlist

At first, I wasn't sure what to think. A small box of chocolates turned up one day outside my door, no note attached, no real hints as to the gifter's identity, a single rose appearing the next day in a similar state. I ignored them both, thinking nothing of it until more and more gifts started appearing, around two or three a week, each of them different to the last. Mentioning it to my friends, I decided I needed to tell someone, worried as to what might be happening, and whether or not I should trust the trinkets appearing on my doorstep, only feeling a little reassured when one or two bring up the thought of me having a stalker, the others all laughing it off, telling me it's probably some boy from the Boardwalk trying to subtly give away his feelings for me. None of this made me feel any better.

That same night, the first note appeared.

Written in sprawling, yet neat, cursive, the note read a little like a poem, or riddle, remaining completely ambiguous as I tried to use all the previously useless analytical skills I learned in high school English lessons to figure out what it meant, only to be left completely in the dark. Even the signature was a mystery: four little dots, alternating between filled in and left empty, giving no real implication of the writer's true identity. Surprisingly, the paper itself is expensive and more akin to vellum than the usual printer paper that I'd expect, implying that the writer must be a particularly well off person, especially since the handwriting is done in smooth, red ink. The colour surprised me at first, but I soon chalked it down to some ridiculous romantic idea.

More and more notes turned up, all of them written in what appears to be four different hands, one scrawling, one neat, one looping and the last more childlike in style, as if different people wrote them. Thinking this to be another strange tactic of sorts, I continue to gather the slips of paper, piling them in a small box under my bed, finding their messages of admiration and longing endearing and strangely comforting, happy to know someone out there feels strongly enough about me to write to me, though there is always a nagging feeling that it's little creepy.

As time wore on, i received many more gifts, ranging from earrings to chocolates to books. At times, I feel entirely sure of the person being a stalker, especially when specific things I've been meaning to buy turn up, like the beautiful necklace I spotted on the Boardwalk, which was conveniently slipped into my postbox the next day, accompanied by a note in neat cursive stating that they thought it would "look much better on [me] than on the stall table top".

To say I'm curious is an understatement. I've been trying for months to catch them out, coming home earlier from work, or dropping into the house between visits to the Boardwalk, constantly keeping an eye open for people on the streets, though I never see anything, which just perplexes me further. I ask around the neighbours, but they only tell me what I know: gifts materialize on my porch, apparently on their own without any human aid. Later that night, another note accompanying an earring is slipped through the door explaining to me that they'd reveal themselves when they were ready, though it spoke in a plural sense, as if talking about multiple people, which can't be the case, even though it would explain the different handwriting. One night in the following days, the note comes littered with little droplets of crimson liquid which smelt like iron, reminding me grimly of blood - the gift with this one is a band patch, which I hesitantly sew onto my coat the same day, hoping that it comes from a decent person.

Tonight, I come home expecting there to be nothing (a box of sweets was left for me the night before), trekking slowly down the road in an exhausted silence, having worked a long day with rather irritating colleagues, not really paying much attention to the surroundings until I reach my house. At this point, I reach into my pocket and pull out my keys, jangling them slightly as I look up again, freezing in place at what I'm seeing.

A tall man is bent over my doorstep, his body tensing as he hears me reach the drive, his face snapping round fearfully as he does so, figure straightening in seconds when he spots me. Vaguely, I can see a dark shape at his feet, instantly revealing his identity to me, a burst of curiosity and interest sparking to life within me, drawing me to observe his face in the pale cast of the streetlights, marvelling at the bright blue eyes that stare at me from under a mop of blonde hair, lips parted slightly in surprise as he looks me over, his identity finally falling in place - one of Santa Carla's mischievous biker gang.

"You?" Is all I manage, eyes widening as he takes a step forwards, eyes remaining locked with mine as he starts edging around me, his countenance betraying his sudden discomfort. Frozen in confusion and curiosity, it's all I can do to watch him make his way around me and to the main road, where he starts running away, long legs carrying him away from me with ease, leaving me feeling utterly bewildered.

After a few more minutes, I move over to the door, grabbing the gift as I step inside, still reeling a little from what just happened. Opening the small box, I look inside to see a small silver pin badge in the shape of a tiny bat, it's eyes made up of miniscule rubies that flicker slightly in the dim light of my hallway, the detail on it precise and accurate. A note is attached to the pin, which I pull away to open up and read, taking note of the handwriting - the more childlike style. Reading through it, I smile before pinning the badge onto my coat, replaying the written words in my head as I do so:

Wear this and we'll know you're ready to talk with us. If we see it on your jacket, we'll come over to you,

•°•°

*

I shift slightly on my feet as I lean back against the wall of parting the beach from the Boardwalk, biting at my nails as I do so, my coat pulled tightly around my shoulders, not really doing much except for expressing my intentions and wishes to my secret admirer. The bat sits well amongst my other pin badges and brooches, the blood-red eyes glittering in the lights coming from some lit fire barrels a little way away, giving the metal creature a more life-like appearance, despite its size. In addition to this, I also wear some of the other gifts: an earring with a loop of leather pushed through it, a bracelet of twisted strands and beads and a chain necklace from a few weeks back. In my haste to impress my admirer, I forgot to sort out some form of back up plan in case something goes wrong, though I highly doubt it will.

A low chuckle interrupts my thoughts, my eyes instantly drawn to the platinum figure before me, scrutinizing his incredibly handsome features briefly before realising exactly who it is. A quick flick behind him shows me that the other three are there, too, including the one I believe to be my secret admirer. Wary of them, I shuffle uncomfortably as I wait for them to make some sort of comment.

"C-can I help you?" I question them, cursing the involuntary stutter in my words.

"You wanted to meet us, didn't you?" The leader returns, lifting an eyebrow as he speaks, his smooth voice resonating pleasantly in my ears.

"I don't remember telling you guys that." I say, not quite grasping what's going on.

"You're wearing the bat, which means you want to meet with us." The shorter blonde butts in, gesturing to the pin on my coat.

I look down at it briefly, my eyes widening as I suddenly understand what is being implied.

"Hold on, all four of you are my secret admirers?!"

"Yep." The taller blonde confirms, reaching over to shake my hand with a smile, "I'm Paul."

The shorter blonde offers me his hand next, smiling happily at me with large doe eyes.

"I'm Marko."

The tall, dark haired one steps forwards, lifting my hand to press his lips against it in greeting.

"Dwayne." He supplies quietly, eyes betraying his excitement and joy.

"And you can call me David." The leader adds, slinging an arm around my shoulders with a confidence I've never seen from someone shy enough to send letters instead of directly asking me out.

"Right, well, I'm (Y/n)." I murmur, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"We know." The blonde smirks, leading me away.

[crookedcatavenue]

Groupie Love ( Izzy Stradlin X Reader)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: (y / n) is in love about the 1985 Los Angeles night, but more than that, for the guitarist for one of the bands on the sunset strip.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Mentions of drugs, sex and alcohol.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.998 words

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: Hello! I am very happy to finally be posting this imagine, I have already posted other guns fanfictions in other platforms, but this is the first time here on tumblr and... Out of my native language. Then forgive any mistake, I hope you'll like it and if you do, give your feedback so I will be able to continue.

The strong smell of hairspray flooded the room along with a long cloud of smoke from the spray, (Y/N) coughed heavily and raised a hand to his nose when the product reached his nostrils.

"Don't you think you've already put in too much?" (Y/N) wanted to know, laughing lightly, while watching her friend set her hair in a bleached blond tone even more.

"No. The more volume the better," Michelle shot back with an amused little smile in the corner of her face.

It was Saturday night. The city of angels invited all young people to a bohemian and wild diversion on the three kilometers of the Sunset Strip, the mythical stretch of Sunset Boulevard. During the day everything seemed peaceful and dull, however when the sun went down and the night swallowed up the Los Angeles sky it was the moment when life seemed to make sense to the youth. With the opening of bars and nightclubs, this was where the rock scene in the 1980s began.

"Do you think Donna and Montana will be able to leave the house?" (Y/N) asked with superfluous concern. The Clarke sisters had been friends with her since elementary school, after a few years when the three entered high school, they met, Michelle, and soon the girl quartet became inseparable. However, the Clarke sisters came from an extremely religious family, and every time the four friends left, they had to come up with a well-designed and convincing excuse for Donna's mother and Montana.

"I hope so, last time we almost missed the time to enter the club waiting for them," he mumbled taking a last look in the mirror, checking if his hair was his taste, when he saw that yes, she turned to help (Y/N) putting on makeup.

Michelle reached for her eyeliner, pulled the cap slightly with her mouth, and leaned over (Y/N).

"Nothing too exaggerated, Shell," She subtly asked her friend, who just rolled her eyes and touched the tip of the brush over the inner corner of (Y/N)'s eye, carefully drawing a line and pulling the movable eyelid to the outer corner.

"What is it, girl?" You need to take a little more risk! Put that jacket we bought last week with those shorts, and you will look amazing.

(Y / N) snapped his tongue over his teeth and just limited himself to a little snort, so as not to disturb the effort and attention that his friend was giving to his makeup.

"Today we are going to Gazzarri's, I heard that there will be a concert by Rose in one of the hundreds of flyers spread across the street from the record store," She informed her, moving away from a little and checking with a proud smile her masterpiece made on her friend.

Rose was one of the dozens of bands that were born there in West Hollywood.

A knock sounded on the door and soon after it was opened, presenting the Clarke sisters in their well-behaved and pastel-colored clothes, without anything too glamorous or exaggerated.

"Get ready soon! Or Todd won't help us get into the club,” Michelle announced bluntly, and the sisters quickly fetched some clothes from the wardrobe in her friend's room.

"You look like a rockstar, (Y / N)," Montana praised grabbing platform-heeled boots from somewhere in Michelle's room.

(Y / N) smiled in thanks and Michelle soon interrupted the small dialogue between the girls.

"And you are a nun," the girl shot, and received Montana's middle finger in response "Come on, girls, this is ours tonight!"

When (Y / N), cheered up with the friend's phrase, she got up from the bed with excitement, however, she soon pulled again.

"Calm down, sweetie, I haven't done the other eye yet"

Gazzarri's.

The night air on Sunset Boulevard seemed to fill (Y / N) 's lungs with a breath of euphoria. The girl felt freedom and happiness filling every inch of her interior at that moment. Besides her friends, who sang some David Bowie songs, she could finally be herself and let her wild and partying soul dominate her body, which looked more like a prison on other days.

When they arrived at Gazzarri's, there was a man a few years older than (Y / N) and her friends, waiting for them with a cigarette between their fingers. On the opposite side there was a long line of people waiting for their turn to enter the club, everyone seemed excited and euphoric that night as well as (Y / N).

"There you are, I thought you weren't coming," She spoke with a special and hungry look on Michelle, who just shrugged.

"And miss the opportunity to see you, sweetie?" She replied in a tone full of malice.

The man laughed softly, throwing his head back and encouraging them to join the club. (Y / N) followed them with Montana and Donna in pursuit, and the instant they crossed the second partition of the establishment, she felt her body being introduced to an atmosphere with an odor of nicotine, sex, and drink. A cloud of smoke hung over the place, leaving the girl's body a little more charged. A cough from the back of his throat upset him for a moment, and in order not to look like an idiot child, he chose to head over to the bar and ask for something to wet his mouth.

"I'm going to get a drink," he warned the sisters before peering between some people on the way to the bar. Gazzarri's was extremely crowded that night, and observed the girl looking around. When the bartender came towards her, she nodded in greeting: - A soda, please.

The man cast an amused look at (Y / N), however, he soon tried to fetch the drink.

"Coke will not make you drunk... At most with a little gas," an amused voice came from the right side of the girl who looked in the direction of the person who said that.

The guy had a spontaneous and fun aura, his blond hair was wild, and (Y / N) didn't understand how his cheeks didn't hurt due to his open and continuous smile.

"Let's say I don't intend to get drunk," he replied promptly "Not now. The show hasn't even started yet, so it loses its grace."

The man tilted his head to the side and rubbed his nose slightly.

"Until you're right," he agreed.

The bartender returned and handed (Y / N) his soda with a straw and walked away to the next customer. At the same moment, the girl sucked the cold, gas-filled liquid, which ran down her throat, ceasing the uncomfortable itch caused by the smoke in the room.

"So... What brings you here?" the smiling blonde close to (Y / N) asked with cautious curiosity.

"Well, it's a little obvious, don't you think?" (Y / N) gave the man a playful smile which he received with an embarrassed frown.

"Yeah, it was a fucking stupid question," he apologized with a look.

(Y / N) mentally cursed himself for being slightly rude to the boy, he seemed to be a nice person, even though she knew that part of his behavior was part of her "flirting".

"Is that you?" he looked at her again with a slightly confused face due to the question, and (Y / N) he tried to reformulate the sentence: "What are you doing here? In addition to trying to get girls drunk."

He opened another smile and straightened her hair.

"Let's say I'm looking for a guitarist and a vocalist for my band," counted on a unique excitement in his voice, you could see the sparkle in the back of his eyes, how much that meant to him "Me and my friend..." he looked over his shoulder looking for someone who was no longer there "… That must be somewhere around here."

(Y / N) let her eyes travel around the club for an instant, she saw no sign of Donna or Montana, as Michelle knew that the moment they entered one of those establishments she went directly to her heavy and special fun with drugs, (Y / N) had no opinion or thought formulated about that subtle addiction of her friend, however, she used nothing, she preferred to stay away from that universe.

"Did you say... A band? It looks cool," stressed the girl returning to the conversation with the blonde.

"Yeah, I think the guys I'm looking for are going to take the stage soon," he looked for a moment at the stage, in which a band would start playing.

(Y / N) studied the man in front of him a little more, and after a few moments decided to give him a chance.

"Hey, how about we do it like this, if the next band sucks we can get drunk in response to our frustration."

He broke into another big smile, and nodded, with his blonde mane shaking like popcorn.

It didn't take long for the band Rose to take the stage, the audience applauded for a long minute and then the show started.

They had a nice sound, however, it seemed that something was missing between the members and the music. (Y / N) commented something here and there with the smiling blonde beside him. It was about how the vocalist seemed crazy with his unique voice and his stage presence, or about the guitarist on the right side of the latter.

The man seemed to be enveloped in his mysterious and intimate bubble, his long black hair falling over his eyes and making his face taper. He looked like he was born to be a rock star. With the guitar down on his knee, (Y / N) he couldn't take his eyes off the guitarist, his movements seemed to have completely caught the girl's attention, and every time he looked up at the crowd her heart seemed to accelerate a little more and his belly was freezing timidly, when he realized the whole show was reduced only to him, in her eyes.

When a long moment passed, someone nudged (Y / N) 's arm incessantly, the performance was over, and she turned to the smiling blonde.

"It seems that today we are not going to get drunk," She said amused twisting her mouth.

"Yeah ... Damn they are awesome!" Exclaimed the man, jumping excitedly from the bench.

"What are your guys?" (Y / N) asked the man with his eyes fixed on the mysterious guitarist still on stage, exchanging a few words with the drummer.

The man lifted his neck, moistened his lips and indicated his finger in the direction of the stage:

"Okay... The guy who looks like Johnny Thunders and the sinister redhead on his side," he said looking back to (Y / N) "I heard that they have been friends since childhood, came from Indiana."

"Yeah, you did nice research on them," the girl laughed lightly.

The man smiled at the comment and jumped off the bench, adjusting his button-down shirt.

"So, let's go talk to them? Then we can go out for a drink or something as soon as I find my friend," muttered the last part, taking another look around the room.

(Y / N) was tempted to accept the invitation, and as much as the idea of ​​being inches away from the guitarist in that band, she still needed to find her friends.

"How about we leave it for the next one? I have to find some friends and we can't be gone that long," She said and made an apologetic expression to the amused blonde.

"Okay, then, see you on any of these nights," He said goodbye with another of his smiles and waved his hand.

Before departing completely, (Y / N) called him by the man making him turn confused among the crowd.

"Good luck with the band, man!" She yelled over the music that sounded there.

"Steven ... My name is Steven," He yelled back before being swallowed by the sea of ​​people there.

[wreckofawriter]

Pulled Apart

~Part 1~ ~Part 3~

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Regulus Black x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing?

Summary: Everyone is lost in the world as the man soon to be called the Dark Lord rises to power. Your parents are already ready to give their life along with your own for this man. You spend your seventh year in Hogwarts being pulled apart by the expectations for you and the hope placed in you by your childhood friend Sirius and his closest companions

A/n: Sorry I've been so inactive. I just finished my last week of school and I had a shit ton of projects to do and now its summer so I feel empty... anyway hope you guys like it! Also check out my 2k celebration

    A soft giggle met your ears, its familiarity was hypnotizing, its source just out of reach. You gazed around the room trying to find the origin of the noise, the shimmering gowns and sharp sound of heels on marble confused your senses. You felt a soft tap on your shoulder, the feeling of relief rolled over you as you greeted the curious grey eyes of your best friend. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek but instead of meeting skin, your fingers fell through as if you had tried to hold the wind. Suddenly you were shoved forward falling through the mist you had been convinced was Sirius and landing on the ballroom floor. Your white dress spilled around you as you tried to stand. 

    “Y/n, are you alright?” 

    You looked up to see Regulus, he was dressed in a formal suit, his hair brushed back from his face. He held his hand as an offer which you took. As you were pulled upright you glanced down at your gown, its brilliant white and delicate lace were blinding. A vail spilled down your back, a golden band shimmering on your left hand. 

You felt your heart speed as your eyes darted around the crowded room of blurred faces. They landed on your mother her smirk ever present as her face twitched into one of a pale demon. Your breaths were short and useless.

    “Y/n?” 

    You looked up at Regulus who now held your hands gingerly in his own, a soft look of concern graced his sharp-cut features. You felt dizzy, the heels you wore digging into the back of your feet. The thin lace of your dress did nothing to hide the tattoo stabbed into the skin of your forearm. A snake pulling from a skull in a gruesome scene. You opened your mouth to scream.

    You sat up suddenly in your bed. The sheets you were tangled in felt slick with sweat, a shiver rippling your body. Your memory began to do flips as the strange dream that had woken you evaded the present thoughts of your mind. You stared at the dull grey light which blanketed your dorm, the quiet sound of Bellatrix’s snores giving you no comfort. It felt wrong, sleeping so close to your enemies. That’s what they were now right? Enemies. Or maybe the conversation you had had with the curious man in half-moon spectacles had been some twisted, far away dream as well. You couldn’t quite think straight, your stomach churned with the familiar feeling dread. 

    You leaned for your wand which stood on the small table next to your bed, you flicked it with a whisper, and light filled the small curtains which surrounded you. Sliding them aside you stepped from beneath your blanket, warm feet cooling on the stone floor. You pulled on a sweatshirt and padded quietly towards the door. Pushing it open carefully you thanked the hinges for their silence and began down the steps. 

    You had always preferred the castle at night, the sliver moonlight which filtered through the windows, the soft whine of the wind, the snores of portraits. Not to mention the lack of prying eyes and the comfort of solidarity which you rarely felt. It was all calming, therapeutic. 

    Your original destination had been the astronomy tower but when you heard a pair of footsteps in your path you turned quickly and instead headed for the small courtyard. You made it without incident, the sound of the falling water paired with the chirp of crickets was lulling. 

    You slide to the ground, back resting on the cool concrete of the fountain, and leaned your head upward. The moon was nearing full, stars bright and blinking. The night was slowly fading, you still weren’t sure what time it was but your guess was close to three. 

    Dumbledore’s words repeated in your head, the image of a young Sirius sobbing in front of you spilling in your vision as you slipped from reality. You felt your eyes sting with unshed tears before you managed to blink them away. 

    “Y/n?”

    Your head snapped forwards, eyes opening as you instinctively raised your wand. You peered over its point to see James Potter. His hair was its usual curly mess, glasses crooked on his nose, his dark eyes peering down at you in confusion.

    You stood too quickly, wand lowered to your side, “What are you doing out of bed?” 

    He grinned, “I was going to ask you the same.”

    You folded your arms in front of you, “Well I asked first.”

    “Well, I’m head boy so I win.” He smirked pointing to the small pin which shimmered on his robes. 

    You scoffed, “There’s nothing to win.” turning away from the boy you prepared to leave.

    He tsked his tongue taking a few hurried steps until he stood in front of you, “Seriously y/n, you didn’t think you were getting away this easy did you?”  

    “I was kind of hoping I would.” you scowled, “But I supposed you are wearing the snitch badge.” 

    “It’s not a snitch badge.” James defended, your eyes rolled. He paused sighing, “Look y/n, just tell me what you were doing. I’m not going to sell you out to anyone.”

    You glanced up at him in consideration, “You first, you’re not doing any narc duties this late so you’re out here for a reason too.” 

    “Stubborn.” He mumbled but complied, “Fine, I was setting up a prank.” 

    “Liar.” You stated plainly, “I’m not stupid Potter.” 

    He furrowed his brows, “Why would I lie?” 

    You shrugged, “I don’t know, you tell me.” 

    “I’m not lying.” He argued, pushing his glasses up his nose.

    You narrowed your eyes at him scanning his appearance, “Fine.” you said finally and James released a breath.

    “So why are you out?” He asked hurriedly.

    You hummed, “No reason really. I just can’t think in my dorm.” 

    James frowned, “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?” 

    “More fun to watch you struggle,” you explained with a grin, “I don’t know why you care in the first place.” 

    “Because we’re friends.” 

    You clicked your tongue, “Are we?” 

    He laughed lightly, “You’re such an asshole sometimes.” 

    “That’s rude.” You respond, “Look I’m exhausted, I’m heading back.” 

    “I’ll walk with you,” James stated. You rolled your eyes again. 

    You both headed back through the corridors and down towards your common room in silence, neither of you were too fond of getting caught, the idea of detention wasn’t all that appealing. 

    “So what were you thinking about?” James asked as you reached the safety of the dungeons.

    “What?”

    “You said you went to the courtyard to think,” He explained, “What about?

    “None of your business,” you answered quickly, happy to see your escape approaching.

    James pushed his glasses up his nose, he didn’t like the feeling of paranoia you seemed to adopt. It was unsettling. He wondered if Dumbledore had asked you about joining the Order but didn’t dare bring it up. 

    “Well, uh thanks for walking me.” You spoke turning to face him.

    James smiled, “It’s no problem.” 

    You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave before whispering a password and disappearing behind the slowly opening wall. 

    Something was definitely up with you. 

    You sighed heavily, your eyelids seemed to weigh pounds as you started across the room. The sudden click of a light turning on caused your heart to jump. 

    “Merlin, Nina.” You gasped, hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

    She glared at you, her arms crossed in front of her, “Where were you?” 

    “Nowhere,” You replied. “Just out.”

    “Who were you talking to?” She continuted. 

    “No one, what’s up with the interrogation?” 

    She ignored you, “You were with Sirius weren’t you? Really y/n? Right after he broke Pearl’s heart?” 

    “I wasn’t with Sirius.” You deadpanned, “And it wouldn’t matter if I was.” 

    “Who were you with then?” She pressed standing from her seat, her sea-green eyes boring into you in ways which made you shiver. 

    “I happened to run into James, it was no big deal.” 

    Her eyes narrowed, “Why did he walk you back?” 

    “How am I supposed to know?” You huffed. 

    She paused, tucking her shimmering black hair neatly behind her ears, “You’re lucky I don’t tell Pearl about you sneaking out again. She would be ticked off.” 

    “Whatever.” You mumbled heading back towards your dorm, Nina behind you, her hands tucking into her silk robe which cost more than it should have. 

    “Why even are you friends with Black?” She asked as you reached the top of the stairs, “He’s an asshole.” 

    “We’ve known each other forever.” You reasoned. 

    Nina scoffed, “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a dick.” 

    You shrugged heading towards your bed, “Night Nina.” You sighed as you tugged your blanket over your shoulder. Images of tattoos and white dress suddenly conquered your mind. For some reason, Pearl’s heartbreak was the last thing on your mind. 

    The next morning was fuzzy around the edges, like some sort of haze. You felt half dead and half paranoid as if the entire school had somehow overheard the conversation you and Dumbledore had had the night before. 

    Nina didn’t speak to you about your conversation a few hours ago as you readied yourself. She had always been like that, blunt and stern. If she had wanted more information on where you had been she would have gotten it. You supposed being a muggleborn Slytherin made her that way. The only thing that kept her from being completely dehumanized by many of the Slytherins was her money. Despite being muggleborn you were pretty sure she was richer than anyone in the house which meant she could almost blend in with the spoiled rich kids you had grown up with. 

    Nina lead you towards the hall for breakfast rambling about some test she had in History of Magic and how you should really be studying more. 

    “Y/n! Nokomis!” A familiar voice called over the murmur of the crowded hallway. 

    You whipped around to greet none other than Sirius Black. 

    Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, “What do you want Black?” 

    “I need to borrow y/n for a moment.” He grinned but there was a sense of forgery to it.

    “I’ll see you in a minute.” You whispered to the olive-skinned girl before starting towards Sirius whos smile had dropped. 

    “Whats up Siri?” You asked falling into step with your friend before suddenly being shoved sideways. You stumbled into a closet, hand pressing into a broom handle as your foot struck a small bucket on the ground. The door was shut and you were thrown into darkness

    “Godric Sirius, what the hell is going on?” You hissed reaching out to try and find him but missing and tripping forward. 

Sirius caught you in his chest your momentum sending him backward, colliding with the door. He didn’t seem to care as he snatched your hands into his own.

“You said yes last night right?” His voice sounded desperate.

You stiffened, swallowing thickly, “Yeah.” 

In seconds he had you wrapped in his arms, your face pressed into the fabric of his dress shirt as he buried his head into your neck. 

Shock froze you in your place for a moment before you melted into his embrace, the scent of mint and smoke filling you. Your worries seemed to wash away as Sirius held you, his quickened heartbeat loud in your ears, his breath hot on your neck. You felt the color rise to your cheeks and you only fisted his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you away from that shit,” he mumbled into your ear.

And suddenly it was all back, the dread, the anger, the fear. You were crying before you even knew it. Thick tears spilling from your eyes as you muffled sobs into the boy’s chest. 

“Shit y/n, what’s wrong?” Sirius asked pulling back and prying you away from him so he could look you in the eye, now adjusted to the dim lighting. 

You only cried harder raising your hands to your face to hide yourself. 

Sirius was stunned, he couldn’t remember the last time you had cried in front of him, it must have been years ago. A slight panic filled him, “I’m so sorry. Did I say something? I didn’t-”

“It’s not you.” You whimpered, “I’m so scared Siri, I’m just so fucking scared.” 

Sirius felt his face drop, eyes softening before he pulled you back into him, a hand threading through your hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he mumbled, “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” 

   

    You didn’t get a chance to see Nina or the others before classes. Instead, you headed for Arithmancy, a class you had grown to hate more than you should have. It didn’t help that Professor Vector hated your guts. She ignored your questions and always called on you for answers despite the fact that your hand was never raised. There was only one saving grace in the dreadful class and that was Remus Lupin. 

    You had been placed next to the boy by your professor on the first day of your seventh year and since then he had become a lifeline. On your way to the classroom you hated so much you did everything you could to not look like you had been sobbing in a broom closet moments before, you didn’t do much good. 

    You walked into the class head down wishing you had a hood to hide under. Remus was already in his seat a book covering most of his face. When you fell into your own place next to him releasing a soft sigh the book was dropped onto the table in front of him. 

    “Are you okay?” He asked. It had been barely fifteen seconds since you entered the classroom. 

    You gave him a weak smile, “I’m fine.” 

    Remus frowned, “Here.” his wand was suddenly out and pointed towards you. The boy didn’t miss the slight flinch that you gave but said nothing to it, “Tergeo.” He mumbled and the smeared trails of mascara were wiped away, your face left as a clean slate. 

    Remus felt his eyes flirt down towards your lips for only a moment before he pulled away, knowing he had stared just a second too long. “Sorry.” 

    You laughed lightly, “Why are you apologizing?” 

    His ears went red, he glanced down at his hands feeling a bit stupid.

    You shook your head smiling. Your hand ran through your hair, and you groaned slightly, “My hair is so gross right now.” You muttered under your breath attempting to brush through the tangles with your fingers. 

    “Here.”

    You moved your gaze back to your desk partner who now had his hand out, offering the navy beanie which had been placed on his head moments ago. 

    “Really?” You asked eyes wide as Remus shoved the hat into your arms, his own eyes looking at anything but you.

    “Just take it.” He replied thrusting his face back into his book hoping you wouldn’t catch the heat which had now spread to his cheeks. 

    You pulled the beanie on top of your head tapping the werewolf on the shoulder, “Thanks Re.”

    Remus gulped, sure you could see the blush that now filled his face as you smiled warmly at him, his own hat perched on your head, “Of course.” He managed to croak. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac @willowyreads @approved-by-dentists @itslilithsstuff @captainshazamerica @findzelda

Masterlist

One more thing: I have some major plot points figured out but I suck at story boarding so if there is something you want to see in this fic or ideas for plot, I will totally consider them

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 2

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Jennifer Jareau is having boyfriend troubles. Emily Prentiss tries to help and offers her cookies. 

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Jennifer Jareau tossed her phone down onto her bed and grit her teeth.

“What do you mean I can’t come visit?” He had texted her, “I’m your boyfriend.”

JJ huffed.  She couldn’t deal with this right now, it was too much. Classes were kicking her ass, and she barely had enough time to breathe let alone entertain her long-distance boyfriend.

She glanced at her whiteboard calendar, noting how the next week was absolutely covered in deadlines, tests and games all written in different colours in her small, neat handwriting.

She had this essay to do tonight, a midterm to study for tomorrow, close to two-hundred pages of readings and a dozen other commitments. On top of that she had promised her friend that they would apply to work in student government next week and she had some applications to fill out for that.

He didn’t seem to understand that she was balancing her increasingly challenging full course load, playing varsity soccer and trying to maintain her friendships with people who were actually still in the same city as her.

Finding herself working up to a panic, JJ realized she needed to calm down or she was going to have a full-blown anxiety attack and that was the last thing she needed.  

She was alone in her dorm room, feeling particularly alone without Penelope Garcia’s cheery presence on the other side of the room to keep her company. Penelope was currently at the library, working on some sort of group coding project and JJ didn’t expect her home until much later.

She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, held it in, and then let it out through her mouth.

She reached under her blankets and retrieved her stuffed animal, a bunny she had named Fluffy when she was little, and clutched it to her chest, falling back into her bed. While she debated bringing him to college, JJ hadn’t slept a single night without the toy by her side, and she wasn’t about to start any time soon. She still remembers the time Rosaline helped her sew a shirt for him to wear. After her sister died, JJ found herself clinging onto Fluffy as much as she did when she was a kid.

She stared at her ceiling and her rows of fairy lights twinkled back to her. To her left, a photo of her and William LaMontagne Jr. smiled mockingly at her. He had his arm thrown casually across her shoulder, and she was leaning into his chest. It was from prom. Her hair was in long curls and a deep navy dress made her feel like a princess. Will matched her pocket square. He was looking at her with utter adoration while she smiled into the camera.

Things were so much simpler in high school when she had one goal, one focus: getting out. Last year was a rush of excitement, with everything feeling new and exciting that she blamed all her relationship problems on being overwhelmed with the transition. She promised Will, back when she was home this past summer, that things would be different this year, that they would have more time for each other.

What she meant was that she would make more time for him.

So far, she had not held up her side of the bargain. It was already October and she had not come home once, despite how she had promised to visit whenever she had a spare weekend. He was right to complain that he was always the one to call her, and not the other way around.

Now Will was coming to visit her, and despite her placating words, she really wished he didn’t. She couldn’t handle it.

She bit her lip. Why couldn’t she just be happy with her nice boyfriend who springs surprise visits on her? She understood why he was upset with her. He already bought his ticket and JJ did say that she wanted him to visit.

But now that it was happening she felt overwhelmed with the prospect.

She had noticed the weight lifting off her shoulders this fall, as she spent more and more time away from home. Away from him.

Which was so, deeply, incredibly selfish of her. They were nearing two years. Two perfectly nice years together. He always dealt with all of her baggage with such grace, her family loved him, and they had all these mutual friends who were talking about how JJ and Will were definitely going to get married.

Here, at college, JJ was just JJ. She wasn’t JJ and Will or JJ with the dead sister. He tethered her back to her life, her town. What she was desperately trying to get away from.

A hot, angry tear fell out of her eye and dripped down her cheek. She sat up.

Pulling a zip up sweater over her current outfit of sweat pants and a sports bra, JJ decided that tea would make her feel better. She tugged her long, blonde hair up in a high ponytail, wiping the last of the wetness of her face with her sleeve. She put her lanyard with the key around her neck, not really caring how she looked.

She needed to get back to her essay as soon as possible. She had wasted too much time on her fight already. Tea would help. Tea would get her brain working again and calm her down.

Whenever she couldn’t sleep, or she was up late studying for a test, her mom would always knock on her door, softly, and smile as she brought in a large cup.  When she sent JJ off to college, it was with a bright pink tin full of assorted tea bags and a new mug with a rabbit on it. Holding onto it made JJ smile.

Walking down the hall in her socked feet, with her tea, mug and packets of sugar in her arms, JJ made her way to the communal kitchen. JJ found that she was quite angry with herself for not listening to her mom and buying a kettle so she didn’t have to leave her room for hot water.

She made a mental note to order one online.

In the meantime, she passed through the common area and walked into the kitchen, which smelled amazing.

The air was filled with the warm scent of freshly baked cookies. It surrounded her like a hug, reminding her of baking with her grandmother when she was little.

She looked around the tiny kitchen, which was on the smaller side, populated with a round table, a couple of fridges, a microwave, the oven and stove top and the old kettle, which was the target of JJ’s visit.

JJ opened the oven and peered in, peeking at the beautiful cookies which looked about halfway done. Not quite golden brown yet, but definitely melting into shape.

She wondered who would be baking cookies at—she checked her watch—eleven at night on a Tuesday, but I guess it was college and anything goes here.

Seeming to answer JJ’s question, the kitchen door opened, revealing her neighbour Emily, who was wearing a baggy black shirt that was for a band that JJ had never heard before and colourful, cat patterned, PJ pants. She seemed startled to find JJ gazing down into the oven.  

“Admiring my handiwork?” Emily said, and JJ pulled back from looking longingly at the oven.

“It’s a bit late for baking, isn’t it?” JJ blurted out, then immediately kicking herself, worrying that she may come off as rude.

Emily took her comments in stride, laughing and sitting down at the table. JJ turned and began to fill the kettle with water from the sink, flustered at her own accidental hostility.  

She hadn’t seen Emily for a while, since that house party last weekend, despite their dorm room doors facing one another.

The other girl was a bit of an enigma to JJ. They travelled in similar circles, at least the ones that didn’t revolve around soccer. But, by some twist of fate, they had only really talked beyond pleasantries for the first time outside of that bathroom.

“No,” Emily retorted, “Midnight is the perfect time. I usually have the kitchen to myself.”

“Oh sorry,” JJ said, feeling bad for interrupting and kicking herself for being so bold, “I just need the kettle, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I don’t mind a visitor,” Emily said, “I just meant that this floor is always so busy and loud during the day. It’s peaceful at night.”

Emily was right. Their floor, while not that bad of a party floor, had really thin walls and people were typically more than aware of each other’s business. JJ found that with some people, she either had overheard enough of their conversations or had been told most of their business by her very nosey roommate, Penelope.

But Emily seemed to keep to herself, mostly. Her room was decorated with band posters, a few photographs that JJ had always been a bit too far away to examine in much detail, and a fun tapestry hung over the head of her bed. She knew she often heard loud music from her room, long past quiet hours, but never too loud that it was annoying. She mostly saw her hang out in Derek Morgan’s room, and wondered if the two were dating. Their relationship looked a lot healthier than JJ had with Will, at least, whatever they were.

JJ clutched her tea cup as the kettle heated up, leaning against the counter. JJ bit at her lip as she realized she had left her phone upstairs, mid-fight with Will. The sinking feeling that was overwhelming her upstairs was beginning to settle back into her stomach after the momentary distraction.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

JJ didn’t realize that her expressions were that easily legible.

“I had a fight with my boyfriend,” JJ admits, surprising herself with sharing the information.

Typically she likes to lean into the put together perception that people have of her. JJ liked to keep the messy details to herself.

But, even in the cold glow of the fluorescent flights, there was something warm and friendly about Emily, despite her edgy aesthetic, that drew JJ in. Maybe it was the smell of cookies surrounding them that made her relax.

“Oh!” Emily says, “I’m sorry. What’d he do?”

“ He didn’t do anything. He’s wonderful,” JJ explained, “Uh- He’s too wonderful. He booked a surprise visit for next weekend but I have a midterm that Monday.”

“Ah shit,” Emily commiserated.

“There are a couple people who he knows in town so he wouldn’t be bored or anything, I just worry that I wouldn’t be able to focus on school if he was here.”

Emily nodded.

“I just wish he checked first.”

He did that a lot. He made decisions for her, all in the hopes of making her happy or making her life easier, and often at the expense of her plans or feelings. She just wished he had spoken to her beforehand this time.

The kettle boiled.

“Do you want any tea?” JJ asked Emily, secretly hoping she would be offered a cookie in exchange. “It’s uh-” she checked the label “-sleepy time.”

Emily smiled and nodded.

“I think there’s some spare mugs here,” JJ said, retrieving one from the drying rack.

JJ filled the two mugs, letting the hot water mix with the fragrant tea, watching the water turn a warm and rich brown. The slightly minty blend of chamomile and various other fruity teas competed with the cookies for JJ’s senses.  

“That smells amazing,” Emily commented. “What kind of tea is it again?”

“You’ve never had sleepytime tea?” JJ giggled. “I feel like my mom made me and my sister drink it any time we had bad dreams or were up past our bedtimes.”

“I didn’t know you have a sister,” Emily said, trying a sip of her tea.

“Yeah,” JJ said, sipping her warm drink and bracing herself for the other girl’s reaction. “I did.”

“Oh,” Emily said, stunned. “Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

Emily’s phone went off, her alarm for the cookies blaring through the tiny speakers, interrupting the pity before it started. Emily smiled at JJ softly before waking over to the tiny oven and lifted the baking sheet out, using a bunched up dishcloth as an impromptu oven mitt.

“So why cookies?” JJ asked, changing the subject. “Is there a bake sale or something?”

“No reason,” Emily replied, “They’re better than the cookies from the café. Sometimes you just gotta do things that make you happy.”

JJ nodded.

“Anyways it lets me de-stress. An hour out of my room when all I have to do is make sure I don’t burn cookies.”

“That is important,” JJ said, “I would rather not have to stand out in the rain in the middle of the night because someone burnt some cookies down here.”

“I would never,” Emily said, “Scouts honour. If I set off the fire alarm, I’d do it with something better, something more interesting, like actual arson.”

JJ choked on her tea, giggling at the other girl.

Emily was funny. And nice. She never got the chance to thank her for helping out at the party last week, getting her teammate Kennedy some water and keeping JJ company in the hallway.

Emily grinned, scooping the cookies off the tray and onto a small plate. She returned to the table they were sitting at and placed it in the middle of the table, tilting it towards JJ, offering her one.

“For me?” JJ asked.

“It’s the barter system,” Emily said, “tea for cookies. We’re making our own economy here on floor two.”

“That makes sense,” JJ said through a mouthful of cookie. They were delicious, gooey and chocolatey and oh soo warm.

“Good?” Emily asked.

“Very good.”

“So,” Emily said, “What are you going to do about your boyfriend thing?”

“I have no idea,” JJ admitted, “I don’t think long distance is working.”

Emily nodded, and JJ could feel her eyes watching her, waiting for JJ to say something.

“He was my high school sweetheart, you know? I didn’t want to do what all the other people going away to college and just break up because we were far away. I thought we could do it.”

She sighed.

“Sometimes,” Emily said softly, “People just grow apart. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

JJ looked into her cup of tea. Maybe she and Will were just growing apart. Maybe that’s what it was. He was at the police academy and seemed to have endless free time. He was always calling her, checking in, his focus was entirely on her and JJ felt so torn. She wasn’t just busy, she felt like she was missing out on her new life here every time she spent the evening on FaceTime with him.

She sighed, it was too late to be thinking about this too much, she still had work to do, she still had to get some semblance of a night’s sleep before her practise the next day.

“What really matters,” Emily continued, “Is if you enjoy spending time with him.”

JJ looked away.

“I mean,” Emily said, “Isn’t that the point of dating someone?”

Her heart thudded with the feelings that tied themselves into knots in her stomach. Did she even want him to come? Did she even miss him?

The answer was clear to her, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to admit it.

“Thank you for the cookies,” JJ said with a smile.

She stood up and collected her things.

“I should probably go back to my fight with him.”

Emily opened and then closed her mouth, visibly confused.

“I am currently mid-fight,” JJ explained. “I left my phone in my room. I just needed a break.”

She paused and sighed.

“I also have an essay due tomorrow morning that I have to finish.”

“That's a lot,” Emily said frowning in sympathy, “Another cookie for the road?”

JJ accepted the gift and left Emily with her cookies, hoping that she didn’t bother the girl too much with her relationship drama. Emily waved at her as she left.

She went back to her room and found her phone buzzing with missed calls from her boyfriend. Gone was the peace and calm that surrounded her in the kitchen as she ate cookies with her new friend Emily. JJ fell back into a pit of frustration as soon as she picked up her phone.

Her thumb hovered above the call button, as she instinctively went to call him back. She hesitated, and instead, she turned off her phone.

Placing it on her night stand, JJ opened up her laptop and began to edit her essay.

[alexandriawilliams]

☌ - Is your muse famous or infamous in their world for a battle or fight? Do they embrace or shy away from it?

Truthkeeper

KC 628

The winding terrain of the Broken Shore was never easily-traversed, let alone in heavy armor, but Alexandria managed as she made her way deeper into the foothold that the Legion had made for itself on the island. It was difficult to say where, exactly, she was -- the jagged landscape's crags or sulfuric, fel-green ash heaps were too similar to make much of a mental picture of the island outside of the occasional vague landmark, but now, the paladin was... utterly lost.

Sort of.

She was certain that she had gone where she had been directed, but the labyrinthine terrain seemed to twist and fade like a mirage; the path that had existed before seemed to not quite be there anymore. Alexandria was sure she must've made a wrong turn until she noticed the sky changing. Like the fade of an illusion, the paladin watched as the dark gray of the Broken Isles' skyline shifted into an otherworldly violet hue, and chaotic streaks of the Twisting Nether's latent magic ran across the void above.

Her grip on her broadsword and the kite shield strapped to her arm tightened. They were well-made and heavily blessed, having served the knight well since the Third War when she was inducted into the Order of the Silver Hand, and they both gleamed in a sort of protest as the stench of fel became unbearable.

As her eyes returned from the endless abyss above, the environment around her had changed yet again. Alien rock sat at her feet, floating freely in the Nether's expanse... a fact which might have caused the knight panic, if she had time to feel it for anything except for the enormous creature before her.

She had seen and fought typical doomguards before. Formidable creatures to be sure, but nothing that an experienced Templar of the Silver Hand would struggle to put down.

This, however, was not a typical doomguard.

As the creature lifted itself up to its full height from its rested position, it towered over Alexandria two... three... four times over. It must have been ten meters tall, with jagged horns the length of the knight's arms and twin blades nearly the length of its own body. The edges hummed a quiet tone as they were drawn up -- Light, the beast was so large that Alexandria could barely see it all at once. Her heart felt as though it had stopped entirely.

Alexandria was certain that this was how she was going to die.

With a flap of its towering wings and not a moment’s hesitation, the doomguard lifted itself into a hover and immediately screamed forth towards the knight that had been drawn out into the Nether. They were both especially vulnerable here; of course, the demon had run a risk by inviting her into its home plane where it would die a final death, but it was also at its peak strength in the Twisting Nether. This was its own domain, and its quarry was trapped and isolated, ready to be easily picked off.

The knight had only a split-second to bring her shield up at the demon’s advance. With a great flash of the holy energy within her and her blessed bulwark and a deafening clang of the dueling metals, Alexandria felt her arm splinter and fracture simply from the blunt force of the strike. With a pain-wracked grunt of effort, she barely kept her stance composed despite the shooting pain that screamed through her shoulder and elbow. As the demon passed by and lifted itself back up into the air, Alexandria turned herself on her heels to face it once more. In a single strike, she could feel the dent that had been made in her shield, not to mention the toll on her endurance.

The greater doomguard lingered only a moment, appraising its opponent with an indifferent sneer before lunging forth again. In another swoop, it passed by as the knight brought herself low, barely avoiding the razor’s edge of the twisted felsteel that made up her assailant’s blades. Her spine shivered as she felt her grip weaken with fear, but resolve only took a moment longer to come over her as she thought of home, of those she cared for, her fellow knights -- the woman she had just come to know and love dearly.

She had survived Lordaeron. She had survived Northrend. She had survived the Shattering, and Pandaria, and the Iron Horde. She could survive this, too.

As she came up onto a knee from her evasive roll to the side, she extended her blade forth and focused the latent holy energy within her with the blessed broadsword as a focus. It rang out as the golden beam struck true, matched with a dissonant harmony in the doomguard’s scream of rage as the web of its left wing burned through. It crashed to the rock below, grounded as it howled in pain.

Alexandria could feel the ground below her tremble as the beast rose up to its feet, filled with an unquenchable lust for blood as it barreled towards her. This bout was to be longer, a truer duel as metal met. Again and again it sang as the demon’s enormous, heavy weaponry met Alexandria’s shield or a well-timed parry, but the knight simply could not manage to advance... and she could feel herself waning. Even with the Light bolstering her, she was no match for the physical prowess of the monster before her, and the gleam in its eyes told her that it knew.

As another swing came for her, she brought her shield up... and broke. Alexandria could hear the earsplitting cry of her shield being shattered and her own scream of agony. She felt her shoulder torn from its socket as her arm shattered in absorption of the blow, and her feet left the ground as she was thrown several feet back. The alien dirt below was kicked up into a cloud as she scraped along the ground. Not even the strap of her shield was left when she looked for it, and her arm was all but destroyed. What little movement she could manage only intensified her suffering, but she had no time to think -- let alone recover.

It was upon her again in moments, lumbering over to her and lifting one of its blades to end her. The knight made another close call as she managed to leap out of the way only to hear the crash of earth behind her. A single precious moment bought by the evasion saw Alexandria’s blade come down and strike with perfection, slicing all the way through the demon’s wrist and severing its hand -- and one of those enormous blades -- from its body. It earned her another scream in rage and a wild swing from its remaining blade as that lime-green felblood poured freely from the open wound.

Alex brought her sword up to parry and made some effort to brace herself, but with her right arm broken there was nothing she could do to truly stop the strike. It tore through her blade with another screech of shattering steel, scattering fragments across the battlefield as that felsteel blade sank deep into her breastplate. It tore through her with little resistance, cracking ribs and sending the paladin to the ground, disarmed and bleeding out. Even with the Light constantly working to restore her body, Alexandria could feel her consciousness waning as every pump of her heart emptied blood onto her ruined tabard.

In that dire moment, her training left her; she was operating purely on the most primal survival instinct that existed within her. She wobbled to her feet as the injured greater demon struggled in similar fashion, losing both blood and focus from its severed, gushing stump of a wrist. That stumbling delirium granted Alexandria a moment to claim its relinquished sword. Despite its weight, the knight managed to heft it up like an oversized zweihander, resting it upon her shoulder; the shattered arm hanging uselessly at her side made it impossible to wield properly.

Alexandria murmured a prayer beneath her breath as the creature advanced to finish her. The fuzzy edges of her vision began to wane to darkness and her view of her opponent became blurred, but to relent meant certain death. As the creature brought its blade back to prepare a strike that no block from a mere human would stop from rending her in twain, Alexandria lurched forth and brought the commandeered felsteel around towards its exposed shin. Another crack of bone split the air as the beast howled, dropping its weapon and slumping to the ground as its second limb was severed from its body. That vile green blood pooled quickly as the beast flailed in tormented death throes, searching for any spiteful strike that it might land to inflict whatever damage it could.

Still, the paladin would take no risks. Even sure she would bleed to death before help arrived, she advanced again once the enormous blade was hefted over her shoulder once more. Bringing it up and over her head with her one working hand, she brought it down towards the prone beast’s neck... but not before those claws sank deep into her abdomen.

Alexandria spat blood in her helm as those spikes shredded organs, but she followed through. The blade fell like a guillotine, and the doomguard’s howling stopped in an instant. The paladin stumbled back and hit the ground, and her eyes went skyward as she felt herself succumb. The magic holding her to the Twisting Nether faded as the demon’s soul faced its final rest. The ground beneath her began to crumble, and she was sure that her very last moments would be spent eternally falling towards nowhere in the void below.

If this was how it ends, she figured, I think that’s okay. The knight’s eyes finally fluttered shut, and she fell to slumber that she was sure would be eternal.

* * * * *

The unfamiliar ceiling of one of Dalaran’s inns greeted Alexandria as her eyes opened, though she immediately regretted having woken up. The pain in her body was immeasurable; she would surely be in bed for weeks.

Consciousness drifted in and out for several days, though by the third time she awoke there was something new in the room. Leaned against the wall was a shield, a crest of holy fire with a note tied to it with a glittering band of string.

To Dame Alexandria Williams Champion of the Silver Hand

The greatest truth of the Light’s doctrine is that with its blessings, anything is possible. Word of your victory has reached us, and we see fit to name you a Champion of the Silver Hand. We have also heard that you are in need of a new shield.

Truthkeeper is rumored to be unbreakable, passed to those knights of a similar reputation. We trust it will serve you well. Congratulations are in order for your promotion - when you are well, return to the Sanctum of Light.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Heeeey 👀 Can you maybe write some Luke and reader being best friends where she have deeper feelings but he's just oblivious and claims he doesn't so one day Luke's talking about a possible love interest and she leaves the room and Calum follows her and hug her cause br0hs and Luke watch them and can't explain why is he feeling jealous so the next days he's an ass to Cal and they talk and Cal is like "just tell her you love her or someone else will« and he realizes he's in love and fluffy end 👀

Make Your Move - L. Hemmings

Hello my love! I’m so sorry this took so long! Thank you so much for the request! Requests are getting filled now, as I am on break from Uni! Hope you enjoy!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Luke was an intelligent person. He knew random things, he could memorize the chords to the most difficult of songs, solve math problems in seconds. He was a smart man.

But he was also the most ignorant person to walk across the face of the Earth.

Anybody could see the way that Y/N looked at him. How she seemed as if he brought the light to her world when he walked in the room.

When he spoke, she listened. When he joked, she laughed. When he threw his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek, her heart hammered away at her rib cage.

She had feelings for her best friend that were far deeper than one normally experiences with their friends. She wanted to grow old with him, share his last name, build a family and a life with him like she desired with no other.

“All I’m saying is, if Luke could walk around with Yoda in his backpack, why couldn’t I, whose name is also Luke, carry Petunia around with me?”

Calum rolled his eyes behind his phone, attempting to ignore the conversation being had between two of his friends. Ashton and Luke has originally been engaged in a conversation about Star Wats which quickly developed into what they would each do if they were living as Luke Skywalker.

Calum has zero care for the conversation, and didn’t pipe his head up from behind his device until he heard the ringing of Luke’s phone.

“September” by Earth, Wind and Fire flooded the room. The signal for a call from Y/N. Luke had made sure to alter his ringtone for her on the second day of their friendship after he discovered it was her favourite song.

“Hey Boo,” he answered, ignoring Ashton and walking to another room to carry out his conversation.

Ashton smirked at his friend as Luke walked away, sending him a knowing look. They could see the obvious tension between the two, yet they knew Y/N would never confess her crush and Luke was too oblivious to realize his feelings for her.

Michael sauntered into the room, a cringe deepening his features, “How can they talk to each other in such a lovey and gross way, yet not be together? It’s making me have an identity crisis.”

“They need to just call it a day and admit that they’re desperately in love with one another so I can get some peace,” Ashton whined. They were all currently occupying his lounge room, Michael going as far as to raid his kitchen for any type of snack he could get his hands on. Even if that meant the bunch of snacks from Australia that he had hidden from the man.

“There is no peace with us around. You should be used to that by now.” Calum had his phone in front of his face again. The guys often joked that he was chatting up some woman or looking at nsfw content, when in reality, Y/N got him hooked on Candy Crush and he’s dying to beat her high score.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Yeah, sure, I’ll see you in an hour.” Luke sauntered back into the room, a grin on his features that shone with genuine glee as he slid his phone back into the pocket of his trackpants.

“Got another date with our favourite Y/N?” Michael winked, a mouth full of Shapes.

Luke fought to keep the slight pink tinge from his cheeks, rolling his eyes at Michael. “It’s never a date. She’s my best friend, you know that.”

“You only say that because you’re scared that I’ll take offense. It’s okay, Muke can live on, even if you are with Y/N.”

Luke didn’t bother justifying Michael’s words with an answer. He hated when his friends would act like teenagers, gossiping and chiding him for his apparent crush on his best friend. Even if he didn’t have any feelings for her like that.

“Mate, you’re not fooling any of us,” Calum dropped his device into his lap, fixing his taller friend with an amused gaze. “You don’t need to keep your secrets from us. We won’t go spreading your business.”

Luke huffed, snatching a band from his wrist to tie his hair back. “There’s nothing to tell. Get it through your thick heads, fellas. Y/N is my best friend. Nothing more and will be nothing more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N always felt most at ease when Luke was around. Despite her deep admiration for him, they had been friends for far longer than she had longed for him, and they knew one another inside and out.

Well... almost.

Calum had tagged along for their fortnightly movie night, and she found herself situated on the lounge between the two, her head on Luke’s shoulder and popcorn on her lap for the two men to claim when they wanted.

It was a battle between the two, as both wanted to hold the bowl so they could hog the snack, but she pulled rank and retrieved the booty.

They were almost an hour and a half into the first Avengers movie, and Luke had been glued to his phone the entire time. Even worse, his phone was on loud. Chiming every few seconds and interrupting Loki’s monologue and almost every word that Tony Stark spoke.

Both Calum and Y/N were at their wits end, but Y/N was far too polite to say anything.

Calum, on the other hand, gave zero fucks.

“Luke, so help me god, then your phone on silent or invite us and the whole cast of this damn movie into your conversation. We’re trying to listen,” the man snapped, causing Y/N to jump. Calum places his hand on her knee with an apologetic smile and Luke’s eyes lingered on the touch.

“Fine, sorry. Didn’t realize that the movie you both have seen over twenty times was so easily disrupted by the sound of my phone.” He stuck his tongue out at Y/N as she sent him a faux-glare. She was the kindest person he knew, and he often found himself spending hours thinking over her purity and angelic qualities.

She was admirable in his eyes.

“Nah.” Calum snatched the remote from the coffee table, switching the television off and twisting his body to face his two friends. “Now you need to spill. I want to know what’s so important that you can’t devote your attention to your two best friends and their favourite movie.”

Luke had half a brain to tell Calum to keep his nose to himself, but the curiosity in Y/N’s eyes made him want to spill his guts. She had more power over him than any of his other best friends had ever held. She had always been different. Something about her struck a different chord in him, and he could never figure out what it was.

Luke shifted slightly, waiting for Y/N to regain her position on his shoulder before wrapping one arm around her and directing his gaze to his brown-eyed friend.

“Jack gave me the number of one of his friends - Allie. We’ve been texting all day,” Luke said, attempting to keep his excitement on the down low. Y/N had always been sensitive on the topic of relationships. She never found comfort when in them, as if she were holding out for one thing. Luke would be damned if he knew what it was. “We’re going to get coffee next week.”

“That’s... that’s really good, mate. I’m happy for you,” Calum smiled at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, making sure to avoid Y/N’s head.

She looked up at Luke, offering a tight smile that appeared more forced than genuine. Calum was eyeing her, switching his gaze between his two friends to gauge both of their reactions.

It was silent for a moment.

“I, Uh, I’ll be back in a second,” Y/N cleared her throat, avoiding the eyes on her as she stood quickly and walked from the room.

Luke watched her leave, feeling something pang in his chest. His phone pinged on his lap once again, and he visibly smiled at the message on his phone.

But it did nothing to quell the tightness in his chest that followed Y/N’s absence.

Calum excused himself to use the bathroom, although it fell on deaf ears as Luke was far too absorbed in his phone, and the woman on the other end of the line.

Calum expected to hear the sound of somebody crying, given how fast Y/N’s feet had carried her out of the room. Instead, she was stood with her palms pressed against the granite countertop of her kitchen, head hung and shoulder slumped.

It was silent enough that they could hear Luke tapping away on his phone with the movie still paused in the background, even if they were separated by a bathroom between the two rooms.

She heard him enter, knowing full well that he would have followed her. Calum was a good friend like that. After all, he had done the same when Luke felt uncomfortable being around Y/N and her ex boyfriend six months prior.

“I’m fighting a losing battle, aren’t I?” She whispered, allowing Calum to properly listen to the pain in her tone.

His heart broke at the sound. “YN-“

“No matter how hard I try to let him know how much I care about him, it doesn’t work. I tell him how I feel and he thinks that I’m saying it as a friend, because that’s all I’ll ever be to him,” she mumbles, turning to press her back against the granite, and he watches as a tear rolls down her cheek. “He will never feel the same about me, so I don’t know why I’m trying to make something of nothing.”

He walks towards her, his large hands holding both of her shoulders in his palms. He’s at a loss for words, mouth gaping as he rubs the joints in his hand, before slipping his hands down to hers, all while trying to bring words to his tongue.

He knew that Luke felt the same about her, even if he didn’t realize it. It was obvious in the way he looked at Y/N, how he reacted to her presence, how he rarely stopped talking about her. Their entire friendship had been like looking at the naïve honeymoon phase, yet neither would openly confess their love for one another and believe the other.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he starts, testing the words before committing to his speech. “I wish I could grab him and shake him, sometimes.”

“I do too,” she sighed, pulling her hands from his and wrapping her arms round his waist.

He held her in his embrace, offering any comfort he could, unaware of the icy eyes fixing him with a glare as harsh as he could muster from the entryway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Luke to wake up with his friends in his house. After all, he often did the same to them. However, there was one person he definitely didn’t want to see, albeit, the person that was standing in his kitchen, drinking his coffee and reading his paper.

Calum seemed to want many things that Luke had as of late.

“Hey mate,” Calum chirped as Luke entered the kitchen. The mere sight of the man annoyed him, and he was flooded with an overwhelming sense of jealousy. He was not in the mood to deal with Calum at the moment.

Luke did all he could do not growl at the man upon sight, and instead chose to grab his own coffee and walk out of the room.

Calum and Luke had been friends for years, and held the kind of friendship that had never been dampened by an argument or a tiff of any kind.

Immediately, Calum was confused. He trailed after Luke, taking a seat next to him on the lounge as the blonde flicked through the channels on the television.

“How’d you sleep?” Calum asked, settling his gaze on the television yet his mind was focused on his friend.

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” Cal chuckled slightly, awkwardly.

“Yup.”

Calum flared his nostrils, shifting his eyes to now be on Luke. If he was going to get one syllable answers, even he would do so while trying to force the problem out of his friend.

“Have any weird dreams?”

“No.”

He still stared at Luke’s profile, eyes not moving.

“Petunia going on a diet anytime soon?”

“No.”

“She’s overweight, isn’t she?”

“Yup.”

“You should consider putting her on a diet then.”

He watched Luke set his jaw, sighing heavily through his nose as he tried to focus on the programme playing on the screen.

“Who do you prefer: Jared Leto or Joaquin Phoenix as they joker-“

“What the fuck are you trying to achieve here, Calum?” He snapped, running a hand grouch his long hair and avoiding the amused gaze of Calum.

“Just trying to figure out what has your knickers in a twist, Lucas. You barely spoke when I came back from the bathroom at Y/N’s last night and now you’re the single syllable king. What’s up your ass?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you realised anything was wrong, considering you were too busy being all over Y/N last night,” Luke snapped, still avoiding looking at Calum. He was far too annoyed.

A chuckle fell from the Brunets’ lips as he rested back against the arm of the lounge, still locking his gaze on Luke. “I knew it. I thought you saw me hug Y/N last night. That makes perfect sense now; you’re jealous.”

The smirk on Calum’s face made Luke want to smack it off.

“I’m not jealous-“

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not-“

“Bullshit.” Calum clapped his hands twice, finding the situation amusing. “When are you going to get it through your pretty skull that you have feelings for her?”

“Because I don’t!” Luke’s voice was harsher than he intended. He didn’t have feelings for Y/N. He couldn’t. It would just complicate things more.

He didn’t have feelings for her, he was sure of it. So what if sometimes he couldn’t stop looking at her. Or sometimes he couldn’t get her off of his mind, or couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing she is. So what if sometimes he wanted to kiss her, and hold her, and call her his.

There was a beat of silence. Amusement for Calum, shocking realization for Luke.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

“There it is,” Calum smirked again, watching as Luke slumped, his face in both hands. “Do you have any idea how crazy she is for you? I was with her last night because she was upset. Every time you find a new girl, she gets more upset. She tried to tell you how she felt, she’s tried many times-“

“But I always brush it off as platonic feelings,” the words came out in a groan, his heart sinking into his stomach at the thought of how Y/N felt all of those times where he brushed off her admissions with an utterance of the words “pal” or “mate”.

Calum sighed. He wanted nothing more than for the two to finally dispose of the overwhelming tension between them.

“Look, you were jealous seeing me hug her last night, yeah?” Luke nodded, eyes downcast in thought. “Well, mate, I think it’s time you tell her you love her, before somebody else does. She can’t wait around for you forever.”

The words acted as a spark, igniting something inside of Luke, causing him to rush out of the door in just his tracksuit pants, shoes and with his keys in hand. He hadn’t considered changing out of his pajamas, his mind was focused on one thing.

He made his way to Y/N’s house in quick time, mine already made up. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t let his own ignorance get in the way of what Calum helped him realise. He was jealous because he wants her to be his. He was wants to be able to hold her and take away her pain. He wants to feel her lips on his. He wants to tell her the three words that have often been on his lips before.

The minute her front door was in sight, his knuckles were making contact. Three short and fast rasps, alerting her to his presence in the same way he had for the entirety of their friendship.

She pulled the door open with a small smile, her eyes were weary and she looked as if she had nor long woken up.

He didn’t give himself a chance to dispute his actions, his hands made purchase on each side of her face and his lips connected with hers in the most delicate way he knew how, hesitating and waiting for any sign of disapproval.

When it didn’t come, he melted into her touch, feeling her hands rest against his exposed chest.

He pulled back for a second, taking in air. “I should have done that a long time ago. I’m so sorry I’m an idiot.”

Y/N chuckled softly, voice gravelly from sleep and the lack of use, “Yeah, you are an idiot.”

She connected her lips with his again, a short peck. “The best idiot.”

He led her into her house backwards, kicking the door shut with his foot and connecting his lips with hers once again.

Tag List: @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @mantlereid @starshonerose @another-lonely-heart

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The truth and a warning; AU Ghost! Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG one in the making but I finally sat down and made a sequel part to my Legend of the Band fic.  Now I’ve got ONE LAST PART and it’ll be published up in just a few minutes so I hope you all enjoy this little fic and for new readers coming in, READ PART ONE FIRST BEFORE YOU READ THIS!!!

Warnings: Parent arguments, fluff, angst, demons mentions, supernatural elements, kidnapping, paranormal stuff.

Taglist:

@geek-and-proud​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queendeakyy​

@queensdivas​

@eileen-crys​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kairosfreddie​

_____________________________________________________________

I was running through this dark hallway.  I didn’t know why I was running, all I knew was that I had to keep going.  Soon enough I came to this fire-lit room.  It looked like something out of a cult film with candles, Satanic markings all over the wall, and a large fireplace that was just roaring with fire. At the center was a large pentagram of some kind with candles at each of the stark points.

“Don’t go to them. You’re putting yourself in danger. Your whole family will be in danger if you don’t stay away.” There he was again. I looked up and soon appearing right at the center of the pentagram was a man with shaggy blonde hair, a scruffy appearance with a five o’clock shadow, wearing a trench coat, a white button up shirt with a long red tie, and black dress pants.

“Who are you?” I asked.  He just looked at me with that same sharp expression.  He opened his mouth but another voice spoke out of his mouth.

“Wake up!”

I woke up with a gasp and glared up to see Roger hovering right in front of me.

“Roger what the fuck? You trying to give me a heart attack or something?” I hissed at him.

“Well if you had woken up the first time, I wouldn’t have needed to do that, would I? Now c’mon. I want you to see the sunrise with me.” I got off his bed and stretched myself.

It’s been almost 3 months since my friends and I came up here to Rockfield studios.  Since then I had been coming up here in secret without telling my nana or my dad. Most of the times I would come up would be when Freddie and the boys would want me to hear new songs they got (Freddie said that since I came to the farm, it’s like the creativity they once had when they were alive suddenly came back).

But throughout all the visits I have done with the guys, I—still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell John the truth about……who I really am. I mean how would you be if you were in my shoes? And how would you tell the spirit of your dead grandfather that you’re his grandchild without freaking him out.  Or causing some sort of ghostly pandemic where he’d like explode all of London or something.

Roger hovering right outside his room waiting for me, I stood up and put my hoodie and sneakers on and followed him.  My thoughts also went back to the dream I had last night. It was also been practically 3 months since I’ve had that same dream over and over again.

At first it happened the night I came back home.  But one month later it came back to me.  Then it was once a week, then once every other day, and now since a month ago, it’s been every night.  I don’t know why this guy keeps coming into my dreams or why he says the same thing over and over again.

Roger and I finally reached outside.  The snow crunching underneath my feet with each step I took.

“You know you’ve really been out of it lately. You sure you’re not sick or something?” I looked up at him and said.

“Nah. I was just dreaming.”

“Naww about me? Lovie I’m flattered.” He teased flirtatiously as he tossed his long, flowing hair aside. “Alright c’mon. Fred’s just about to wake up, we gotta get up to the top of the barn before he does.” He flew towards the inside of the barn and I ran after him.

He now floated on top of the second level of the barn where mostly some more hay and old bags of manure stood at.  It was then I finally told me.

“Eww no way Rog. Besides you’re like in your 70’s now. It’s just weird.”

“Technically I would be, but I’m still physically, in a sense, 26.” As I came up to the ladder that led up to the second level I continued while stepping up the ladder.

“Whatever. But no, my dreams are that every time I’m running through this dark corridor. Then next thing I know I’m in like—a cult room. Candles surrounding everywhere, a roaring fireplace, like even more so than when you guys make the fire roar and there’s all these pentagrams and Satanic markings. But what’s weird is that there’s always this—man standing right at the center of this large pentagram.”

I finally reached the top and Roger couldn’t help but tease at me again.

“Wow. Never knew you were into that kinda stuff (n/n).” I glared at him.

“Does your mind ever leave the gutter? Besides the guy’s like in his mid-40’s or something.” I finally got over and now stood alongside Roger.  He then raised his hand up and I soon began levitating in the air and soon the two of us phased through the ceiling until we ended up on the roof of the barn.

“Well it’s about time you slowpokes got here.” Freddie’s voice soon spoke up.

“Wha-but-you-but-you were-I thought-that-you…..” Roger began stammering. “You dirty rotter! I was supposed to finally be the first one up to see the sunrise!”

“Oh don’t get your celestial knickers in a twist Roger. Remember I once told you there was only room in the band for one hysterical Queen, well there’s only room for one hysterical ghost on this property. And that’s me.”

“God if I could wring your neck in I would.”

“Oh (Y/n) dear! So glad you could make it! How did you sleep?” he hovered over to me, circling around me before stopping right in my face.  He observed me closely before noticing the bags under my eyes at this point. “Wow, dear no offense but you look absolutely knackered.”

“Yeah I uhh—was having that dream again.”

“You mean the one about that fellow in the trench coat?” One time Freddie actually came into my dreams and I was forced to tell him just what was going on.

I nodded.

“Wait you know about these dreams Fred?” Roger asked.

“Yes. But it’s between (Y/n) and I. So unless you want to know more you won’t hear about it from—”

“I’ve told him about it.” I interrupted him.

“Wait so this chap in the trench coat. He—doesn’t hurt you does he?” Rog asked worriedly.

“No, no not at all. But he—he always gives me some kind of warning. Saying things like I’m in danger, or stay away from them. But this time he told me that my family could now be in danger if I refuse to stay away.” I sat down on the roof bringing my knees up to my chest as I exhaled outward, my breath now visible thanks to the cold. “I’m really starting to get scared about—what it all means?”

“Well it could just be a fluck or something? Sometimes dreams don’t mean anything.” Roger said as he sat to my left while Fred sat at my right.

“I’ve been having this dream since meeting you guys it—has to mean something. Doesn’t it?” There was silence between us till Fred spoke up.

“Dreams are a silly thing. They can be there one moment and gone the next. I think I once recalled about my overbite being a lot bigger. And all that meant was that I was truly what my friends once nicknamed me, Bucky.” It was then he actually made his overbite extend further out (think of a cartoon character at this point) as he then growled and grumbled as he began to chomp like a beaver.

After that, his overbite went back to normal as we all laughed softly.  I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“Why do I keep coming to your guys?”

“It’s because you like us.” Teased Freddie as he pointed his finger at my nose.

“I don’t. I love you guys.” His smile turned soft and that’s when Roger said.

“Look, here it comes.” We both turned around and low and behold the sun was slowly starting to rise.  The first light came into the sky, and the sparrows began to stir and the stars began to fade.  Wow, theirs is nothing that beats a countryside sunrise and sunset.

“So—apart from the dreams, how have you been (Y/n)?” Freddie asked me.  I grew solemn and I said.

“Nana’s—been feeling under the weather lately. Both physically and mentally.” Right at around New Year’s, we had a scare when we got a call from the hospital saying that Nana had taken a bad fall.  

Fearing for her safety, dad had her move into the home with us and since I’m still on holiday break, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.

“My friends still won’t talk to me since that night on Halloween.” Its true.  In fact they’ve avoided me at all cost.  I’ve heard them say that I’ve been possessed by the ghosts themselves every time they see me.  So basically I’ve been kicked out of the group. “And then my dad still won’t give me the time of day anymore.” I grumbled hatefully.

“Still? But didn’t you go on that lovely little Christmas trip with him and your nana?” Freddie asked.

“Yeah for like an hour till the office called him telling him the pitch meeting couldn’t wait.”

“Typical fathers. Always thinking that work is more important than family.” Roger hmphed.  I scoffed softly. Tell me about it.

“So this is where you took her.” It was then floating right above us was grandda—I mean John.  Granddad? Can I even call him that even in my head? It’s still wild to even think about.

“Good morning Deacy darling!” Freddie praised.  John—grandad crossed his arms over his chest as he gave Freddie and Rog the stink eye that my nana always gave me when I misbehaved (now I know where she got it from).

“C’mon John it’s the mid-winter sunrise and I thought (Y/n) might like to see it.” Roger said.

“You do realize she could freeze up here. She’s not like us Rog, she’s human!”

“I’m fine De—AHH-CHOO!” I sneezed out.

“See? She’s already catching her death already. Couldn’t you two have allowed her to see the sunrise from inside the home, or at least not up on top of the barn where it’s the most coldest?” he said as he came up to me and touched my shoulders.

I’ve also noticed that it’s really only been my granddad’s touch that I can actually feel.  When it comes to the other guys, they go right through me.

“C’mon (Y/n), let’s get you back inside and I’ll fix you up a warm cuppa.” He took my hand and we both phased back through the barn. He then wrapped an arm around me and together we flew back towards the house.

Back in the living quarter’s I was sitting on the couch with two sets of blankets wrapped around me, the fireplace going off, and soon John had my cuppa float right towards me.

“Thanks John.”

“Are you sure you’re warm enough? As soon as we came in you were shivering like a leaf.” God that’s such an old saying.  But I guess that is something that only my grandfather would say.

“I’m fine, really. Thanks John.”

“You really should’ve bundled up more before you went outside with Roger. The countryside gets colder than it does in the city. Especially since this place isn’t as updated as it would be today when it comes to heating.”

“I know. I thought I’d be fine with just my jumper but I guess I misjudged it.”

“More like underestimated it.” He teased.  I took a sip of my cuppa and hummed softly. “Is it done right?”

“Just how I like it.”

“That’s good. I was thankful to actually get that old coffee machine working again. That thing hadn’t been used in decades.”

“Now was that story Brian once told me about Roger wanting to smash that thing true?”

“Oh god don’t even get me started on that. I can’t believe he actually remembers that.” He groaned which made me laugh.

“That’s only because you guys refused to think my song was good enough for the album!” Roger’s voice exclaimed.  Soon both he, Freddie and even Brian came through the walls and Brian said.

“Please tell me he’s not going off about it again. I swear Roger if I have to hear about your song one more time I’m gonna find a way to exorcise you.” Granddad and I looked at each other as he and Rog proceeded to argue and the two of us rolled our eyes.

“Be a dear for me (Y/n). If you ever find my body, please get some scissors and stab me in the ears.” Granddad whispered to me.  I reached out and gently patted his shoulder.

Man he wasn’t kidding about the fact when their fights get crazy. I could only imagine how they were when they were alive and could actually hurt each other.  But it still amazes me that even through their arguments and fights, they still come together and make such beautiful music.

I felt granddad touch my shoulder and the next thing I knew, we silently phased through the couch, down the floor until we arrived in his room.  He released my hand which made me go back to being solid again and he said as he hovered over to his bed.

“Figured you’d be safe here. I’d say in the next—ten seconds Roger’s going to go all poltergeist and start throwing things about.” And low and behold, I heard a very loud crashing and the sounds of Brian, Fred’s and Roger’s screaming at each other.  I cringed at the loudness of the banging and their yelling.  It was like hearing three banshees screaming in my ear.

Then with a snap of a finger, all went quiet.  I turned to granddad and saw that his left hand was slightly raised and his fingers were in a snap position.

“Took me over 20 years to figure it out but, now this room shall remain soundproof till they cease their petty arguments.” I smiled and said.

“God I wish I could do that.” He chuckled softly as he sat down on his bed.

“It’s definitely a gift worth having.” I then noticed how his face grew solemn. “Plus I—I need the silence.”

“Why’s that?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

“It’s nothing you need to worry yourself over (Y/n) dear. I wouldn’t want to bore you with the story.”

“No please. If you’re—willing to share with me, I’ll lend an ear. Believe me you’ve listened to plenty of my teenage drama.” His famed gapped-tooth smile came on display as he softly chuckled again.

“It’s not drama, it’s life. Everyone goes through it, even I did when I was your age. God I really do sound like an old man don’t I?”

“And yet you’re hardly pass the age of 24.” I said as I sat down beside him. “Come on tell me. Please.” I placed my hand over his and gave him my best puppy dog face.  He looked down at me before smiling softly and said.

“Alright you little puppy.” He patted my head before raising his hand and an old suitcase soon floated towards us.  It opened up and soon a photograph soon came out of it. He sent the suitcase back to the corner and held the picture in his hands.

It was a picture of my nana.  She was outside underneath a cherry blossom tree in what looked like a park.  She was beautiful with her long flowing brown hair, her belly showing signs of her pregnant with my father (probably around 3-4 months).  She wore a pretty purple dress and in her hair were 2 flowers.

“Today’s……well…..today would’ve been our 45th wedding Anniversary.” He said solemnly.  Oh shit that’s right. Nana’s been dreading this day in secret.  She hides it from my dad awfully well but I’ve heard her cry at night, crying out granddad’s name in her sleep whenever it was just the two of us at the house.  “I think that……that’s probably why I’ve still remained here on Earth, and never got the chance to move on.”

“How do you mean?” He continued to look down at the picture of nana.  His long, ghostly black fingers stroking along the picture, especially once the tips of his fingers touched her face which held a beautiful smile.

“Unlike the lads whose memories have been slowly fading away of their previous life when we were human. I—I always found myself thinking of my love, my wife, my best friend. And every now and then……memories would come back to me.”

“What kind of memories?” I asked as I held onto the sleeve of his shirt.  I looked up at him like a solemn child wanting to hear the story of their dead relative.

“Just—the small things. The sounds of her attempting to make breakfast. Poor Ronnie could never really cook well without at least trying to burn the flat down.” He chuckled the last part out which made me softly laugh. “The way she would put on her lipstick. So carefully.”

He looked up and he had this look of—wonderment. Wistfulness. His voice even whispered wistfully as he reminisced about him and nana.  A smile soon spread across his face as he continued to speak with admiration and love.

“I do remember that she always used lavender lotion. And when we’d embrace, I would pull her in. And breathe her in. So deeply. Then at night before we would go to sleep, she’d cuddle close to me and we’d whisper to one another with her first starting off, ‘I will love you forever; whatever happens. Until I die and after I die,’ then I would finish whispering in hers, ‘and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, until I find you again’. Guess that saying became our reality.”

That’s what Nana always said to me when I was a little girl during the thunderstorms to calm me down.  She would always say that very line and then she taught me the second part.  Never did I imagine that I was saying granddad’s line back to her.

He stood up from the bed, his back facing me as he stood before the wall.

“But that was a long, long time ago. She’s—probably forgotten all about me. Moved on, probably had more kids with another man. Probably for the best.” God my heart was literally breaking at hearing this.

“I don’t think she did. I believe she couldn’t forget about you. I’m…..sure she felt the same way about you. And……couldn’t find it in herself to love another man as much as she loved you.” I said to him solemnly.

“Then I’ve caused her nothing but heartbreak and pain. She deserved to move on from me after my death. If she—if she has cling to the past, then……” he trailed off and I saw ghostly tears fall down his face.

I got up from the bed and slowly approached him.  I stood at his side for a moment before reaching out and taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  He turned to me, his heartbroken face made me want to cry and just hug him.

Why did this have to happen to my family? To Queen’s family? Whoever or whatever happened on that fateful day deserves to burn in Hell because they took everything from these boys, from my nana, my father and me.

I embraced him and held onto him as tight as I could.  I felt granddad crumble in my arms as he wept into my shoulder.  My sleep shirt getting drenched with his tears, but it was worth it.

After standing there holding each other for a while, I wiped away his ghostly tears which floated into the air as soon as I wiped them off his face.

“Deacy, look there’s……there’s something I gotta tell you.” he separated from me.  His eyes went from heartbroken to concern in the snap of a finger.

“What is it are you okay?” God ever concerning for his loved ones safety.  Even when he not even five seconds ago had a mental breakdown.  He was willing to put his own feelings aside to ask if I was alright.

“I’m fine. I…….” this was it. I have to tell him.  I don’t know what the repercussions would be like, hell I may cause him to bring this entire farm to the ground, but I have to get this off my chest. “Deacy I’m……”

“Oi (Y/n)! Your cellphone’s been blaring off frantically and none of us know how to answer it.” Roger’s voice spoke up.  We looked up and there he had his head peaking through the roof of granddad’s room.

“You couldn’t have learned to knock first!?” Granddad snapped.

“Please I know about your sound proof ability in this room. Even if I tried you’d still never hear me. Now please (Y/n) go see who it was. If I have to hear that bell alarm one more time I’ll bring this whole farm to the ground.”

“Okay Rog I’ll be up there in a sec.” his head soon vanished back through the roof and I looked up to granddad and he said.

“Go on.” I walked up the stairs and headed towards Roger’s room where I grabbed my phone and saw that I had 2 missed calls from Nana, 12 unread texts from dad’s cell and 13 missed calls from dad’s cell.

“Shit.” I unlocked my phone and went to dad’s cell first just to let him have it with me.  After just one ring his frantic voice exclaimed out.

‘WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?! DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED SICK I WAS!!’

“Dad I’m sorry. I meant to tell you I was going out of town but I forgot.”

‘Out of town? Out of town!? (Y/n) (m/n) Deacon you’ve been going out of town for the past 3 months and you’ve never once told me or your nana where exactly ‘out of town’ is. This is starting to become a problem.’

“But dad…..”

‘No buts! From now on I want to know where you are at all times, and all destinations are to be approved by me!’

“What?! That’s not fair!!”

‘Unfair?! You wanna know what unfair is!? Having your nana crying all day because of…….’ He trailed off. ‘Anyways she needed you. What would’ve happened to her if you weren’t there because you were ‘out of town’. Now I’ve got to get back to work but when I get home, I expect you there and then we’ll further discuss your punishment.’ And with that he hung up.  I growled and tossed my phone onto the bed before plopping down against it.

“Was it him again?” I looked up and there was granddad right at the door.

“You heard that?”

“Darling I think everyone from Pembroke heard.” He joked. I collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh and said.

“I don’t get why he’s so overprotective.”

“He’s your father. And he loves you.” he said as he came up to me.  I turned on my side and huffed.

“I doubt that.”

“Why would you say something like that?” he asked me.  I sighed heavily and said.

“Ever since mum left us when I was 12 for her new boy toy, dad’s thrown himself into his work. He’s never actually confronted the problem. He just buries himself into his work. There have been times where I needed him and he was never there. It was like I was invisible to him. And now all of a sudden he’s starting to care about me after practically ignoring me for most of my teen years! If I’m being honest…..I think he stopped caring about me a long time ago.” my voice cracked at the last statement.

I harshly wiped my tears away refusing to cry in front of him.  That’s when I felt his fingers gently grasp my chin and he turned my head to face him.

“Now you don’t mean that.”

“I do. I hate myself for thinking such a thing but it’s true.”

“A father never stops caring for their child. Sure he may pile on the work or can be strict but that’s because he can’t risk to lose you like he lost your mother. Being a parent—it’s the most frightening job in the world that not a lot of people can handle. But I would gladly like to have that chance of having that job. To have been there for my son if I had the chance. To love him, to care for him, to show him that dad’s aren’t just the type of walk away to the store or leave to record an album and never come back.”

He wiped my tears as he cupped underneath my jawline and we both looked into each other’s eyes.

“So never doubt your father doesn’t love you. Okay?” I nodded and said.

“I should get home then.” He smiled softly and nodded in agreement.

“Promise you’ll reach out to either Freddie or Brian when you reach home.”

“I promise. Tell the guys I said bye.”

“Will do poppet. Until next time.” He gave me a kiss to my forehead and I walked out of the house towards my car and drove all the way back to London.

On the drive back just a few miles out of Bristol, I stopped at a gas station to get me some breakfast.  When I picked me up some sweets I walked back to my car and started it up before finally pulling out of the gas station and continued down the road.

While driving on a stretch of wide open roads with fields and nothing but cattle, suddenly out of nowhere I saw a man frantically waving his arms back and forth. 

He looked like he had just came out of a pub fight, his clothes almost torn to shreds, his face all bloodied up, and he was even limping and might’ve had a broken shoulder with the way his left arm was dangling.

Something in my didn’t sit right and as much as I would’ve said I kept driving, I’d be lying.  I slowed down and rolled my window down and he came up to me and said.

“Oh bless you lass. I’ve been walking for miles with no one in sight.” American accent must be a tourist or something.

“Are you alright sir?” I asked him.

“I’ve had better days. Listen my car broke down several miles West. I’ve been traveling all night and couldn’t see a damn thing. Can you please give me a lift to the closest repair shop?”

“Uhh……”

“Please I know I’m asking a lot and this must seem like a creepy situation.” I’ve had creepier experiences, I mean I’m friends with the ghost’s of Queen. “I promise, all I need is a ride and I promise you’ll never see me again. I need to check in on my wife and daughter. They’re probably worried sick back at our cabin.”

“Alright. Get in.”

“Oh thank you so much. Thank you, thank you thank you.” he opened up my passenger door and sat down before closing it.  “I’ve tried to get a signal for hours but there’s hardly anything out here.” He joked.

“Yeah the selected country parts of the UK can have some pretty crappy service. Once we reach close to Bristol it should work. But I’m gonna have to briefly turn around just to get us there.”

“Do whatever you’ve got to do. You’re very kind to do this for a complete stranger. Your parents must be very proud of you.” my hands gripped the wheel tighter and I said.

“Yeah. Yeah they are.” I turned my car around and drove back to where I saw the Bristol exit. “So……how exactly did your car break down?”

“I don’t know it just started sputtering and the next thing I knew….” He blew out a raspberry. Suddenly my head started to pound like a drum.  I groaned as I rubbed my forehead trying to rid of the pain. “You okay?” he asked me.

“I—I don’t know I…..I need to pull over, right now.” I put my hazard lights up and pulled to the side of the dirt road.  I put my car in park and leaned forward.  God what the hell was going on? It’s like Roger was using my head as his personal drumkit. “Damnit what is wrong with me?”

“Perhaps you just need a bit of rest?” suddenly I felt something cover my mouth and nose.  Panic aroused from me as I tried to fight back but the man quickly grabbed hold of me and pressed the rag or sponge whatever it was harder against my nose.

Shit I should never have let this guy into my car! I watch crime shows for this very reason! I’m such a dumbass.  All I kept doing was trying to send a telepathic signal to Freddie hoping he would see what was happening but soon enough my fighting spirit ceased as my eyes soon closed and I was knocked out.

*John’s POV*

As the day went by finally the lads ceased their infernal argument and we were in the studio trying to see if we could finish up a new song that Freddie had written for (Y/n).  All the awhile I kept having this very bad feeling that something happened to her, something very bad.

“Deacy? Oi Deacon!” I snapped out of my daze that’s when Brian said.

“Geez you looked even more spaced out than you normally are.” I glared at him.

“I’m just—thinking about (Y/n).”

“Oooo, is our little Deacon in love with a new woman?”

“What?! Eww no you filthy mongrel. It’s…..Fred are you sure you haven’t heard anything from her?” I asked Freddie worriedly.

“Not yet my darling. But you know it’s a long drive between here and London. Maybe she’s still driving. You worry too much darling, she’ll be…..” suddenly he lurched forward almost as if in pain.

We all looked at him fearfully as his face contorted to absolute fear before he flung himself back against the chair.  His arms reaching upward like he was holding something, all the while struggling and grunting in a panic-like seizure.

We all gathered around him calling out his name before finally he lay there limp, his eyes closed and his face relaxed.  I turned towards Roger and Brian and they were just as confused and frightened as I was.

“Fred? Freddie. C’mon mate wake up.” Roger shook him. Suddenly Freddie’s eyes opened and he gasped out.

“It was horrible……the worst fear I’ve ever felt.” His breathing was shaky and his eyes frantically searched around the studio.

“What Fred? What did you see?” Brian asked.  It was then Freddie turned to me and he said regretfully.

“I’m sorry John. I’m really, really sorry. But you were right.” No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no it—it can’t be!

“What Fred don’t leave us hanging!”

“It was (Y/n) dears. She sent me a message. Someone’s kidnapping her.” At that point, had we’d been alive, our hearts would’ve sunk in fear.

“Who!? Who was it!?” Roger demanded as his drumkit got knocked over by the rage he felt.

“Calm down Rog! We’ll figure this out.” Brian assured him before turning back to Freddie. “Now Fred could you see anything? Like who it was? Or where she was at?”

“I just remember……fear. And muffled screaming.” Freddie sobbed as he gripped the side of his head.

“Okay, okay. Concentrate. The smallest detail will help us figure out who it could be.” Brian assured him.

“I couldn’t see him. But I felt her being pinned up……against someone’s chest. And…..it looked like she was in her-her car maybe? And…..” at this point his voice grew off into a haze as he tried to recall everything he saw through their telepathic message. “It smelled weird like—I don’t know I wish I could remember more!” Freddie leaned forward and wept.

Roger and Brian embraced him, rubbing his back gently shushing him.  At this point I couldn’t handle being in the studio anymore.  Somehow I ended back in my room, anger boiled inside me along with fear and heartbreak.  I then threw my head back and just let out the most agonizing scream I could.

If any mortal were to see, they would’ve seen all the windows shatter from every building Rockfield farm studios had.

*My POV*

When I came around I saw nothing but candlelight dancing through a dark room.  I groaned tiredly as my head was still slightly pounding but not as much as it was earlier.  When my vision finally started to become clear, that’s when I saw some familiar drawings surrounding me.

All the Satanic markings, ancient drawings, hell the room itself was familiar.  I was in the very room where I’ve been at in my dreams.

“I tried to warn you love. You’re meddling in things you shouldn’t be meddling in.” wait that accent.  I slowly raised myself up from the floor and soon coming into light from the fireplace was him.

The man from my dreams.

“It’s you.”

“Yes it’s me. Your personal boogieman. Look since you wouldn’t listen to reason through your dreams, you forced me to take drastic measures.” He said.  Wow this guy was really charming.

“You know an email or a threatening phone call would’ve sufficed.” I sassed at him.

“True but then you’d still probably go back to that farm. Am I right?”

“You don’t know me!”

“Oh on the contrary love, I know everything about you. (Y/n) Deacon, daughter to Robert and Sharleen Deacon who are divorced now right?” I glared at him. “Granddaughter to one Veronica Tetzlaff and John Richard Deacon. The bass player of the former band Queen. And you—little missy were just about to tell your granddad of who you really are.”

“So what if I was? You don’t know how lonely he is. If he knew that my nana still loved him and has told both my father and me about him…..”

“It could end the world.” I looked at him confused.  He sighed heavily shaking his head disapprovingly. “I hate involving normal people into my line of business, but you’ve left me no other choice.”

“Just who exactly are you?”

“The name’s John Constantine. My family’s been cursed with being the fine line between this world and the afterlife. It’s my job to ensure that no demonic or spiritual presence tries to threaten our world. And to ensure no dumb teenagers go poking their noses in forces far beyond their reach.”

“If you’re referring to the first time I went to the farm, it wasn’t my idea.”

“But it was your idea to keep going there. Meeting the ghosts of Queen. And for that, you’re causing a shift in the balance.”

“So what now? You going to kill me?” I threatened.

“No. See I can’t kill another human being without probable cause. That and since you’re a kid with a family, I’d rather not be interrogated by the police. And I wouldn’t want your dear ol granddad to haunt my arse for the rest of my days. I get enough of that already.” He walked over and grabbed something off the table and he continued, “This is your last warning love. Stay. Away. From Rockfield farm.”

“The boys will know something’s up if I suddenly stop coming around.”

“Which is why I’m going to put them out of their misery and send their souls to the great beyond. They’ll no longer be stranded here, they can freely go up to heaven, blah, blah, blah heavenly stuff you know all that.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Better me than something else. And trust me, there are far worse things than people like me that want a snag at a few stray ghosts.”

“And what if I refuse to do as you say?”

“Man you are a stubborn girl.” He muttered impatiently.

“Call it a family trait. What’s so dangerous for me to stay away from Rockfield Farm?” he groaned and said.

“I really didn’t want to admit this but I guess I’m gonna have to dumb it down for you.” God this guy was a real arsehole. “Unlike the other three members, your grandfather still holds onto the memories of his human life. And when a ghost does that, it makes them dangerous. Extremely. Dangerous.”

“You don’t know my granddad. He couldn’t hurt a fly much less hurt me.”

“Really?” he asked more skeptically than questioningly. I nodded proudly. “Then answer me this then love,” he walked up to me and leaned down close to my face. “If you do tell him who you really are to him, that makes him even more bound to you. Then say the next time someone, be it mortal or even demon even hurts you. His bound to you would become unstable. When ghosts become unstable, they lose any sense of humanity. And when they lost their humanity, they’re nothing but shells of endless wails and overpowering abilities. He could bring down an entire city if he wanted to just to get back at whoever hurt you. And that becomes messy for me to clean up.”

“Glad to know this is more about you not wanting to clean up a bit of mess.” I sneered.

“Not when the mess is millions of dead bodies who were nothing but collateral damage. Trust me love when I say that your granddad is bad news already being a ghost with memories. And here’s something else if you don’t believe me.” He pulled out his phone with a news media post that read.

EARTHQUAKE SHAKES MONMOUTH!

What felt like a 5.5 earthquake shook the entire community of Monmouth Wales. Out of nowhere the grounds began to shake and some witnesses have claimed that it was sourced at the old Rockfield farm studios where witnesses have also claimed to see windows exploding.

“I know you must’ve sent some sort of message to them when I grabbed you.”

“Wait that was you? But….the guy that grabbed me had black hair.”

“Simple transfiguration spell love. I thought kids your age watched Harry Potter?” I glared at him. “Now I want your solemn promise, you will not. Go. To Rockfield farm anymore.” I looked down and I said.

“I can’t just suddenly ghost them. No pun intended. Let me go back and say my final goodbyes to them.”

“I can’t even let you do that poppet. It’s either you stop going, or put your family in grave danger because of your selfishness.”

What do I do? What do I do? If I suddenly stop going to the farm, the guys will feel like I’ve abandoned them.  And Granddad he……he’ll be heartbroken the most.

“Well…..your answer?” he asked impatiently.

“Fine. I’ll do as you say.”

“That’s a good girl. Now then, I want you to wear this from now on until I can finish my job.” He held out a long silver chained necklace with a vile attached to it.

“Please tell me there’s no blood in that thing.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s salt. Ghosts can’t get through a salt circle, nor can they get out of one. So long as you wear this, they can’t reach out to you telepathically.” He placed the necklace around my neck. “Oh and love, it’s best we keep this interaction a secret. Probably best to not let nana or daddy know of this.” He gave me a nod before suddenly placing the same cloth over my face and once again I was knocked out.

The last thing I heard him say was his warning.

“Now keep away for your family’s sake.”

When I awoke, I found myself in my own bedroom.  I was in my bed and pressed to my forehead was a warm rag.  I heard footsteps coming towards me and coming into my room was my nana.

“Oh (Y/n) you’re awake!” she quickly came up to me and cupped the side of my face frantically looking over me.

“Yeah uhh nana. I—I know this’ll sound strange but—how did I get here?”

“Don’t you remember? You drove all the way here but passed out as soon as you got to the door. You were freezing cold to the touch. I was so worried that you’d……” she pressed her hand over her mouth and I saw tears form in her eyes.

“Oh nana I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I worried you.” I hugged her and nuzzled her shoulder.  She wrapped her arms around me and she sniffled.

“It’s okay love. I just…..I just couldn’t bear it if I had to lose you too.” I looked down, my eyes shining with regret.

Maybe that Constantine guy was right.  Nana Ronnie loved me and dad so much, I could never live with myself if I got all of us hurt.  Maybe it is best if I just—forget about the guys.

I guess—in a way I’m glad I didn’t tell granddad the truth yet, cause if I stopped going there had I told him, he would never let me or the world forget it.

It's gonna be hard to just forget the guys but I have to. For Nana’s sake.

So as punishment from my ad, he grounded me for a month and basically put me on house arrest. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unless it was to school and home.  Any other places that I needed to go to like the library, had to be approved by the boss man himself.

Constantine also was a constant pop up in my life.  This time he took my advice and actually managed to figure out my phone number and has been sending me text messages every other week or so.  He’d inform me that right now the grounds were too icy to travel to the farm so he’d have to wait till spring to perform the exorcism.

Of course I couldn’t find it in myself to respond back to him telling him it was fine.  I just deleted the messages and try to live on my life.  Now I won’t deny I’ve missed the guys, especially granddad.  For the first time in my life, I got to know more about my family than I ever had in years.  Only for it to be taken away from me because some threat that Constantine won’t really tell me about.

I know there’s gotta be more than just my granddad’s potential of becoming a ‘bad ghost’.  But I don’t know what.

Another couple months passed and finally it was springtime in England.  The cherry trees were in full bloom, the weather was now more cooler, and the typical spring showers washed away any remaining snow that was left.

I was currently at school and today we were doing the mile and a half run for PE (UGGGGHHHH!!!) I don’t even know why we have to do this run? It’s just a way for people to show off on who’s got the fastest timing just so they can get up on the leader boards in the locker room.

And of course with no friends in PE, the runs get VERY boring so I was left alone to run by myself.  That’s when I noticed something odd.  A crow kept trailing beside me, cawing every now and then.  At first I paid no mind to it (after all we get crows all the time).

But when I noticed that it was starting to swoop down closer and closer to me and literally following me no matter which way I swerved or even ran back, that’s when I got scared.  Thinking I could outrun it, I ran past any remaining students that still hadn’t completed the mile and a half run.  

The crow still right on my trail as it cawed and swooped down closer and closer to me.  I turned around and that’s when I was shocked to see it’s black eyes suddenly turn pure white.  Oh shit now it all makes sense, it was—suddenly the crow landed right on top of me and it was almost like my body just shut down as I collapsed right there on the ground.

Next thing I knew, I was in this empty blackness.  There wasn’t anything in sight and it was dead silent. No birds, no chattering peers, no crow, nothing.  Until……

‘(Y/n).’ I gasped at the familiar voice.

“D-Deacy?”

‘Do you know how worried we all have been for you? You’ve stopped coming to the farm. What has happened!?’ his worried tone made my heart clench.

“I’m sorry Deacy I……dad grounded me and then school got busy and……”

‘LIES!!!!’ sudden a harsh wind blew right in my face. It was like standing right next to a tornado or a hurricane with how hard this sudden wind gust was blowing right at me.  I would’ve been knocked over if it hadn’t suddenly stopped.

When I opened my eyes and put my arms down from my face there right in front of me was granddad. His eyes full of heartbreak and betrayal.

‘The last thing you ever sent to Freddie was your kidnapping. Who was it? Are they threatening you!?’ oh god don’t let him get mad don’t let him get mad.

“No. I—Like I told you Deacy life just became busy. And the roads got too dangerous for me to travel on.”

‘That didn’t stop you before. How come none of us could reach out to you? It was like you dropped off the face of the Earth!’

“I don’t know Deacy I just…..”

‘What?! Hmm?’ I sighed heavily and turned away from him.

“I can’t tell you.”

‘Can’t tell me. Tell me what?’

“It’s too dangerous Deacy I can’t tell you.”

‘What? What is so dangerous that you can’t tell me? Unless it’s the fact that you no longer like us and think we’re nothing but a bunch of washed up has-beens. A waste of your time!’

“No John Deacon it’s not like that at all and you know it!”

‘Then what!? WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF!?’

“I’M YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER!!” I gasped and covered my mouth. His expression went from anger to shock.

‘Wha—what did you…..say?’ I sighed heavily and said.

“Your wife, Veronica Tetzlaff. Her—your son Robert is my father. Which makes me her granddaughter. Your granddaughter.” His face still held that stoic but shocked expression.  He backed away from me and looked like he was trying to form words.

‘How long have you known?’ he asked me after a long bit of silence.

“After meeting you guys.” He exhaled sharply and rubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry John I—I didn’t want it to be like this. I was gonna tell you back at the farm but then Roger he……”

‘Stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.’ He turned fully away from me.  His shoulders rising and falling rapidly as his breathing got deeper.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry granddad!” suddenly a flash of light blinded me and the next thing I knew I was hearing concerned mutters around me and my instructor Mrs. Hood say.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) Deacon can you hear me?” I let out a gasp and sobbing out.

“I’m sorry granddad. I’m so sorry.” I then just curled up and wept hysterically.

After that I was sent home early and Nana was my personal nurse. She asked me what exactly happened but I refused to answer her.  I just kept silent throughout the rest of the day.  Of course not wanting to push me, Nana left me alone for awhile and told me that dinner would soon be ready.

Right as soon as she left, my phone made it’s text tone. I reached out for it and it read out.

COME TO HYDE PARK IMMEDIATELY. NO EXCEPTIONS!

Constantine.  I looked out towards my window and saw the branch that always hung right beside it. I knew I’d never make it pass Nana by going through the front or back door, so my best bet was taking the window. I ran up to it and opened it up and looked back to make sure that she wasn’t coming back up.

Then as carefully as I could, I got onto the branch of the tree and crawled to where the branch was the sturdiest.  I looked down and it didn’t seem like that much of a high jump.  So I held onto the branch and dangled there for a brief moment before exhaling out.

“Okay. One….two…..three.” I let go and landed on the ground before quickly racing towards the shed to grab my bike.  Once I had it, I pedaled to the park.

When I got to the park, I stopped right by the lake and stood underneath the lamp post.  It was maybe a minute later when the light suddenly started to flicker before going off. Soon the rest of the lights began to flicker before they too went off.

“You didn’t listen to me at all, did you love?” I turned and there coming right up behind me was John Constantine. “One thing. I ask one thing of you and you couldn’t even do that. Why didn’t you keep that salt necklace on like I told you?”

“It’s not like I had any choice. My PE teacher saw it and she forced me to take it off while we did our mile and a half run. She even pocketed it in her own pockets and refused to give it back till I finished the run. That’s when……”

“Brian possessed that blasted crow just so your granddad could talk to you. And then you go off and tell him the truth, didn’t you?”

“Again not my choice. He forced it out of me. I didn’t want him to think I had just abandoned them. Forgotten them! You know my life was perfect till you came along and had to fuck it all up!” I snapped at him.

“Oh believe me love, if you think I’m fucked up. Then you’re really not gonna be happy about what else is coming. Because of your reckless confession, now he’ll be after you.”

“If you mean my granddad that’s fine! At least now he knows his family hasn’t abandoned him!”

“I wasn’t referring to him.” He said grimly.  Wait what? What was he meaning?

“Then what—”

“I’ll explain later. For now because of your big mouth, I’m gonna need to take you somewhere safe. Follow me.” He turned around and walked onward.  I stayed in my spot thinking what could he be talking about? “Oi love stop your gawking and let’s get a move on! You’re exposed out here so let’s go!”

I followed behind him taking my bike with me as I kept thinking just what exactly could he be mean by Him.  If it wasn’t my granddad I needed to worry about, then who?

*3rd Person POV*

Veronica was just finishing setting up the table for supper. She took her spinach casserole out of the oven and set it on the table and called up to (Y/n).

“(Y/n) dear. Dinner time!” when she didn’t get a response she looked up from the table and took off her oven mits. “(Y/n)?” she walked up the stairs.  Unaware that a hand print came visible along the kitchen window.

Veronica came to (Y/n)’s room and when she looked inside and didn’t see her granddaughter there, she began to panic.

“(Y/n)? Where are you?” she looked in her closet hoping to find her hiding in there. “Don’t play around now love nana’s getting scared!” she quickly ran towards her son’s room to see if she had gone in there.  She looked and looked but there was no sign of her granddaughter anywhere.  “I love you so much don’t do this! (Y/n)!”

She came back downstairs and suddenly noticed that the house had grown colder.  She thought maybe it had to do with the thermostat so grabbing her glasses she went over to the thing but saw that it was still at the normal temp. that her son always kept it on.

So……why was it growing colder and colder with each second?

As she could see her breath visibly come out with each exhale, a haunting, whispery like moan echoed through the house.  Then she heard her name being called out.

“Veronica.” Panicked Veronica quickly went back up the stairs towards her room and quickly shut the door and locked it.  She huddled against the corner of her room holding her Catholic cross necklace as she proceeded to plead the Lord’s prayer.  

All the while her door suddenly started to frost over and started to bang and rattle, like someone was trying to break into her room.

“Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from……” as she continued with the Lord’s prayer only to have her door suddenly come down. And floating right there, she let out a horrified scream as she saw standing right before her very eyes.

The ghost of her dead husband.  Beneath him a trail of black blood followed him as she slowly walked towards her extending his arm out to her.  Groaning and moaning her name with agony.

Terrified Veronica let out a horrified scream as she tried to pray to God for protection.

“DELIVER US!” she cried out.

“Veronica……” She continued to scream in terror as she clenched her hand over her heart. “Help…..me…..” John pleaded as his mouth dropped in a haunting manner as Veronica finished.

“FROM….EVIL!!!” As she leaned her head against the wall all she could do was gasp and cry out in fear.

Coming in from another long shift at work, Robert came into the house and felt the coldness of it.  But what frightened him was the fact he could hear his mother’s panicked screams from upstairs.  He immediately dropped his stuff and raced up the stairs exclaiming.

“MUM!! MUM I’M COMING!!! HOLD ON!!” When he finally came into her room, the only thing he saw was his mum leaning against the corner, her face contorted into fear, tear stains on her face and she was clenching her heart in fear. “Mum! Mum are you okay what happened?”

She couldn’t speak.  All that came out of her were gasps and whimpers of fear.  Fearing she was having a heart attack, Robert phoned the ambulance.  

Within minutes, they loaded her up and quickly took her to the hospital with Robert holding her hand trying to comfort his mum who was still in hysterics.  He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed his daughter’s number.

*My POV*

Constantine had taken me to a safe house (to me it looked more like a bunker).  All around there were books about spells, demons, every creature imaginable.  Dusty tables with ingredients that you would find only in a voodoo shop.

“What is this place?”

“My own personal safe house. You were here before. Just down in the basement. Here no ghosts or demons can even get a mile from this place. Now then, let’s start off with—” my phone suddenly rang and he glared at me.

“Sorry it’s not like this is a movie theater.” I took my phone out and saw that it was my dad. Oh bugger! I internally groaned as I slid the answer button and I said slowly.

“Hey dad.”

‘First I’m not even gonna ask where you are. All I want you to do right now is get to London hospital as fast as you can.’

“What? What do you mean dad is everything okay?” before he could answer, I heard Nana Ronnie’s panicked voice gasp out.

‘My John! My John was a horrifying black-eyed demon!’ my eyes grew wide.

‘Just get to the hospital and I’ll meet you in the lobby. Your……Your nana’s had an accident.’ I was frozen in my spot.

“It can’t be.” I whispered.

‘(Y/n)? Did you hear what I said?’

“Yeah. Yeah dad I’ll be there soon.” I hung up the phone and Constantine looked at me with sympathy in his eyes. “Nana saw granddad. He scared her so badly that she’s on her way to the hospital.” He rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry love. I really am.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Well…….” I glared up at him telling him to not bullshit me.

“Don’t suddenly change your statement now. You’ve told me that something like this could happen. I should never have gone up to that farm in the first place. If I hadn’t nana wouldn’t be dying.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! You should’ve heard her Constantine. She—she sounds like she could die from shock.”

“I hate to bring this up now love but—you do know what has to be done now right?” tears slipped down my face and I asked him.

“Promise me that they won’t suffer.”

“Passing on for a ghost is like going to sleep for us. I promise they won’t feel a thing. I’ll have a cabbie take you to the hospital to see your Nan and father. And hey,” he came up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, “You’re doing the right thing. The spirits of Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon don’t belong here on Earth anymore. They’ve suffered enough being restless spirits. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

He then left the bunker without another word.  Just like he promised within 10 minutes a cab was waiting for me outside and the cabbie drove me to the hospital.

Once I got there, I saw my dad sitting anxiously on one of the chairs in the waiting room.  When he saw me, he came up to me and I looked up at him with eyes full of tears.  We didn’t say a word till I suddenly embraced him and I wept into his chest, pleading for forgiveness.

My dad wrapped his arms around me and stroked down my hair trying to comfort me.  Together the two of us sat there and waited until a doctor would come and tell us nana’s update.

*3rd Person POV*

As the night grew darker, John Constantine arrived at Rockfield farm studios to finally put an end to the restless spirits of Queen.

“Alright, first to send these guys onward. Then focus on the real threat.” He grabbed some essence candles, a container of salt, his lighter, and an old iron candelabra shaft. He walked towards the barn with his bag of ghost equipment and he said as he stood right out the house. “Time to finally have some fun.”

He walked up the steps of the porch and opened up the wooden door of the living quarters.  As it opened, it made its famed creaking sound and Constantine slowly walked inside.

“Alright where are you yah hard rocker ghosts?” he muttered.

‘You want us John Constantine? You’ve got us!’ soon a swarm of starlings suddenly flew out from the fireplace and burst through the windows. Frantically making their chirps and calls as they swarmed practically the entire house.  Knocking over every antiques scattered throughout the house, damaging the curtains, and most of all trying to get a stir out of Constantine.

Constantine swatted the birds away with the candelabra shaft but it didn’t deter them away. Then as quick as they came, they soon vanished and the only thing standing there was him and Brian May’s ghost.

“I should’ve known you were the one behind the animal’s odd behaviors. I forget you also had an interest in animals, right?” Brian’s snide smile was cold as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Call it a side hobby. And I don’t control them. I share their vision to see beyond the reaches of the farm.” Constantine nodded snidely and sarcastically stated.

“How sweet of you.”

“Now tell us this,” Roger’s voice soon spoke up.  Roger came out from the raging fireplace and continued, “How is it that when our sweet, loving (Y/n) suddenly stops coming around, it’s your ugly mug that we have to keep seeing snooping about the farm grounds?”

“And more importantly, what did you do with our beloved darling?!” Freddie’s voice snarled as he came up behind Constantine.

“Look gents if you really think I harmed her in any way you’re poorly mistaken. I just gave her some strict warnings to stay away from here less her and her family be in danger. Now enough gab, and let’s get down to work.”

“What kind of trouble?” Deacy’s voice soon spoke up.  Coming out from the shadows was John Deacon’s spirit.

“Ahh, the grandfather. The guest of honor at last has arrived.”

“Enough talk, what did you mean trouble?!” Deacy demanded.

“Nothing you need concern yourself about. I’ll handle it from here, for now you lot can just move on after I—” suddenly Constantine was pushed up against the wall.  The iron candelabra was tossed out of his hand and soon Deacy stood face to face with Constantine.

“Tell. Me. What’s. After. My. Family?” Constantine sighed heavily.

“Not a what. A who. A demon has been eyeing your granddaughter ever since she met you lot.”

“A demon?” questioned Roger.

“Yes. Beelzebub. One of the high keepers of Hell.”

“What does he want with our (Y/n)?” demanded Freddie.

“Apparently he’s pissed at not only the fact that the living is conspiring with the dead. But that it’s family related. Having future generations meet face to face if one is dead and the other living is strictly forbidden according to Hell and Heaven’s laws. As soon as I found out that she was being targeted by Beelzebub, I’ve tried to send her warnings about it to stay away from here.”

“Those dreams she’s been having. You were behind them all along?” Freddie said.

“Yes. But apparently she still kept coming. Mostly because of you John Deacon. Then I got a message from one of Beelzebub’s lackies a week before I came in contact with (Y/n).

“More like kidnapped!” Brian hissed.  Constantine rolled his eyes and continued.

“Kidnapped, met with her, same thing. The point is, he told me that Beelzebub was not only coming for her, but for the rest of her family too. And he’s already managed to trick your living wife into seeing what you’ve become.”

“He’s hurt Veronica!?” Deacy raged out as the house began to shake.

“Deacy, Deacy dear calm down.” Freddie tried to soothe.

“Not hurt. But he sure as hell gave your wife a hell of a scare. And if I don’t stop him now, he’ll hurt (Y/n) as well as her father.”

“Robert.” Deacy whispered.  Constantine nodded.

“So because of her interacting with us, we’ve marked her for dead?” Roger asked.

“Not if we can stop Beelzebub first my darlings.” Freddie said.

“How Fred? We can’t leave the farm grounds. We tried to when we first became ghosts it’s impossible to leave!” Brian said.

“You guys won’t be going.” Deacy said.

Everyone looked at the young bass player’s spirit.  His friends and brothers looked at him like he was talking crazy.

“Deacy you’re not suggesting…..”

“I am Brian. The only one going is me.”

“Absolutely not dear I positively forbid it! I forbid you going alone!” Freddie said as he floated right in front of Deacy.

“You can’t suede me Fred. Not this time.”

“Deacy I know—”

“No Brian you don’t know what I’m going through!” Deacy snapped.

“Deaks she’s our family too. We love her just as much as you do. If she’s in danger then let us help you.” Roger said.

“No Roger. I’ve already risked my living family’s lives, I don’t want to risk you guys too.” Deacy then turned to Constantine and he said in a firm tone, “Do you know a way a ghost can leave his burial prison?”

“There might be a spell.” Constantine shrugged nonchalantly.

“Perform it then.”

“Sorry mate can’t do that. See I only came here for one purpose and one purpose only. And that was to send you and your friends to the great beyond. If you lot don’t go then you put yourselves at even greater risk of going straight to the looney bin of ghosting.” Constantine then felt Deacy’s hand at his throat, slowly squeezing it and he was slowly being raised up till he was almost at the ceiling.

“And if you don’t brew up something that’ll allow me to save my family, I’ll reach into the deepest parts of your brain and pull out each painful memory one by one forcing you to feel exactly how I’ve suffered and will suffer if anything happens to my family.”

“Alright! Alright you win!” Deacy released his grip and Constantine was dropped to the floor. He rubbed his throat and let out a few coughs. “Bloody hell now I see where your granddaughter gets her stubbornness from.”

“Enough talk. What is it you need to brew this spell up?” Deacy ordered.

“Nothing to exotic. Just the skull of an owl, feather of a crow, fur of a black cat, a few bluebells, and a dash of paprika.”

“We can manage that. Roger you know where the paprika is, Brian you can get the bird stuff, and I know where to find Midnight.” Freddie said.  The three ghosts all left the living room leaving the two Johns in the room.

“A word of warning for you John Deacon, your powers might not be as strong as they are here on the farm. Also you’ll be prone to every ghost weakness in the book. Iron especially.”

“I don’t care. All I want is for my family to be safe, and for Beelzebub to go back to hell where he belongs. He picked the wrong family to target.”

“Family man till the end. That’s either very admirable or very stupid of you.” when the guys got back with the ingredients, Constantine grabbed his bag and brought out the gauntlet he was going to use to send the guys away, and poured the ingredients in.

“Deacy are you sure you should go at this alone?” Freddie asked worriedly.

“It has to be me Fred. If Beelzebub wanted to get a message out to me, he should’ve had the balls to come here himself. Not bring (Y/n), Veronica or Robert into this mess.”

“Alright Deacon, it’s ready. Just stand right over there.” Constantine said as he pointed to the center of the room.  Deacy floated to where Constantine wanted him.  As he poured out the sand mixed with the ingredients he needed, Constantine began to chant in ancient tongues.  He circled around John pouring the sand out till it formed a circle.

He stood in front of him and held his hands downward to the ground.  The sand suddenly sparked into a ring of fire as Constantine’s chanting grew louder and faster.  Freddie, Brian and Roger stood there in shock at seeing their youngest brother and band member suddenly in a ring of fire that seem to spin faster and faster as it rose over John’s entire body.

At one final command, the fire disappeared and John’s spirit was gone.

“Where did he go?” asked Freddie.

“He’s been sent to the heart of London. But finding his family is all up to him now.” Constantine explained.

The three ghosts turned to look at each other worriedly and hoped that their friend would be okay.