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reddorkredemption · 10 months ago

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My Blessed Son—Chapter 18

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Summary:

For years, Jack Marston dreamed of killing Edgar Ross, the man who had taken everything from him, who had ruined his life. His obsession with revenge had given him a reason to keep going. But now, after it was done, he was left lost, depressed and without purpose. He was left to navigate life alone with the unforgiving eyes of the law slowly narrowing in on him. Though he soon comes to realize that perhaps he isn’t quite as alone as he thought he would be. A continuation from the end of Red Dead Redemption 1.

Word Count: ~7400

Chapter under the cut <3

Jack paced about the living room, arms crossed over his chest as Lilly watched from the sofa, anxiety written across her face as she waited for him to speak.

He didn’t even know where to start. All of the information Fordham had revealed replayed in his head, a jumbled mess of thoughts and theories that he struggled to make sense of. But what stood out above all was what the man had said about that fake name Lilly had given them. How it clearly wasn’t as made up as Jack had originally thought.

Abruptly, he stopped his pacing and turned to face her. He chose to start with a simple question: “Who is Lettie Hall?”

Lilly’s eyebrows shot up and then furrowed. With a surprised uneasiness, she asked, “What?”

“That fake name you gave them agents the other day?” he reminded, his tone already beginning to grow impatient. “Who is that?”

She was quiet for a moment, staring at him wide-eyed and fidgeting with her hands. “W-Why are you asking me that?”

Jack huffed and uncrossed his arms, letting them fall rigidly to his sides. Alright, maybe that hadn’t been the right place to start….

Fighting back his annoyance, he decided to start over from the beginning. “That guy that was watchin’ us? That’s Archer Fordham. He’s real high up in the bureau— he used to be Ross’s partner,” he explained. “He came up to me while I was gettin’ that horse and started questionin’ me and tellin’ me a bunch of stuff that didn’t make no sense.”

Lilly swallowed hard and nervously tapped her toe against the floor. “Such as…”

“They looked into the name you gave ‘em, and they found someone with that same name back where you’re from,” he said. “And that someone just happens to have a daughter your age who’s been missing.”

Lilly’s cheeks paled, and her mouth fell open slightly. “Oh.” She sighed and slouched forward, burying her head in her hands. “Shit…”

“So there’s clearly something you ain’t tellin’ me,” Jack continued, getting a bit fired up. “And— And I don’t get it. You’ve told me so much about yourself, yet somehow nothing at all at the same time. I-I’m not sure I even know what your name is anymore.”

She straightened up and rested her hands in her lap, giving him a look of remorse and dismay. “It’s Lilly.” Her voice had a slight shake in it, but her words were firm and certain.

“Lilly. Lilly what?” he asked. “Lilly Adams? Lilly Hall? Lilly… whatever that photo of yours said on the back; I don’t remember what it was. S— something.”

“Schuyler.”

Jack paused, breathing heavily. “Is that it then?”

“Yes.” She lifted a hand to reach out to him. “Come—”

“Why couldn’t you say that sooner?” he asked. “Why’d you have to lie to me?”

“Jack,” she said, her voice quiet and resigned. She patted the spot beside her on the sofa. “Come here. Please.”

The softness of her tone and the subtle pleading look in her eyes brought him down a bit, and his breathing slowed again. After a brief hesitation, he complied and joined her on the sofa.

As soon as he’d sat down, Lilly put a hand on his arm and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should’ve said something sooner. I understand if you’re angry, and I—”

“Not angry,” Jack corrected. “More… confused.”

And a bit hurt. Hurt that she would feel the need to hide so much of herself even after everything he’d shared with her. After he’d spilled his guts to her about Ross and his family. It wasn’t fair.

Lilly took her hand off of him and nodded in understanding before continuing, “I want you to know that apart from the name, everything I’ve ever told you is true.”

“But you left a lot out.”

“I did,” she said. “And again, I am sorry. I know that wasn’t fair, and I’m gonna explain it to you now if you’ll give me the chance.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a breath to fully calm himself down. “I’m listening.”

Lilly looked away and sighed, taking a moment to collect herself before beginning her explanation: “Lettie Hall is my mother’s name, though I’m sure you’ve already inferred that by now.”

Jack nodded— he had assumed that based on the information Fordham had given— but his mind caught on a minor detail. He asked, “You don’t have the same last name as your ma?”

“No.” She pursed her lips. “She got remarried a few months after my father died.”

“A few months?” he repeated, astonished.

He couldn’t wrap his head around that. His mother was an absolute wreck a few months after his father died; she could hardly pull herself out of bed in the mornings. And even years later, she still hadn’t come close to recovering from the loss. The thought of someone moving on so fast was unfathomable.

“Yup. Just a few months,” Lilly said softly, a slight shake in her voice. “She didn’t care about him. Or me. Or anyone else who was different from how she thought they should be.”

The anger rising in her voice made him pause, and he stared silently back at her, eyes widened.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a hard swallow then an uncomfortable laugh. “I’ve never been a big fan of hers.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh— I’ve noticed.” Jack paused, trying to decide whether it was a good idea to ask his next question. Eventually, he just blurted it out: “Why, exactly?”

She chuckled derisively. “What, you want a list?”

“If you got one, sure. That’d be convenient.”

For a brief second, the hint of a genuine, amused smile appeared on her face, but it quickly fell. “Well, for one,” she began, “I never seemed to be good enough for her, and she had no problem lettin’ me know that every opportunity she got.” She scowled down at her lap. “It was like a hobby for her— findin’ everything wrong with me, pissin’ on anything that brought me any kinda joy.”

“That ain’t right,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

It was a stupid response, but he didn’t know what else to say. And he hated that he could somewhat relate; over the years, he had become all too acquainted with that feeling of never being good enough.

Lilly sucked in her lips and nodded gratefully. “My father protected me from her wrath as much as he could”— her expression became pained, and her voice reduced to a murmur— “and boy, did she make him pay for that….”

She paused and closed her eyes, and Jack, not knowing what else to do, gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder in some lame attempt to comfort her. Luckily, it somehow seemed to help, and Lilly straightened up a bit.

She glanced at him and continued, “When he died, I was just… thrown to the wolves, y’know? The older I got, the more she took issue with me.”

His brows drew together. “What’d she think was so wrong with you?”

“Let’s see,” she sighed, looking up at the ceiling. She raised one of her hands and counted on her fingers as she listed out some of her supposed transgressions: “My hair’s too frizzy. My voice is grating. I waste too much time reading stupid books and playin’ stupid instruments. I get too tan in the sun— she kept me locked up in the house for that sin.”

“Jesus,” Jack breathed, horrified.

“Right.” Lilly scoffed a bitter laugh. “It was all so suffocating. I remember tellin’ my brother, ‘if I don’t get far away from here soon, one of us—either me or her— is gonna fuckin’ die.’” She pursed her lips. “And I meant that.”

The hatred that crossed her face as she spoke those words was striking, frightening almost. It was so unlike her. To him, she always seemed like she didn’t have a truly hateful bone in her body, but looking at her now… Maybe he was wrong.

She continued, “Anyway, I couldn’t take it anymore. So about a year ago, in the middle of the night, I went to the train station, hopped on the first train outta the city and never looked back. I didn’t want my mother to find me and drag me back, so I went by a fake surname and changed it every time I moved cities.”

Jack nodded then shifted in his seat and asked, “So… what’d you give them agents her name for?”

Lilly’s expression relaxed, and she stared blankly in front of her for a few seconds before letting out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. When they asked for a name, I— I panicked, y’know? They were so… aggressive. I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, and that was it.”

“Is that gonna end up causing a problem for you?” he asked. “Fordham said the police up there talked to her. And to your brother, I think.”

“I hope not.” Lilly pursed her lips in thought, a hint of worry showing on her features. “My brother already knows I’m here; he has from the beginning. He’s the one who dumped me off at the train station, insisting I call or write to him regularly.” Her brows suddenly drew together in anger, and she muttered, “He better not fuckin’ rat on me now….”

“It didn’t sound like he did,” Jack said. “Fordham said both he and your ma told ‘em they don’t know no one in Blackwater.”

“Good. I’d kill him if he—” She snapped her lips shut and closed her eyes. After a slow, deep breath, she put a hand up and said, “Nevermind. None of that’s important right now; you don’t need to worry about me.”

Without a beat, he murmured almost inaudibly, “I do though.”

She opened her eyes and gave him a sad, yet affectionate smile. Then, her face fell. “What about you? I feel like I’ve just made everything worse for you.”

He bit his lip. In a way, she had made things worse— for him and potentially for herself. The bureau now knew for certain that she’d lied to them, and that would only increase their suspicions towards Jack.

But he found it hard to fully blame her for it. He shouldn’t have told her to talk to them in the first place. He shouldn’t have dragged her down with him into the deep pit he’d been digging for himself. He shouldn’t have handed her a shovel to help him dig it deeper.

Jack sighed. “It ain’t your fault. You were tryin’ to help.”

“I could’ve done better,” she maintained.

“So could I.” He shrugged. “But it’s done now.”

She stared at him for a moment before giving a small nod. “Right. I guess it is.” After a moment of silence, she drummed her fingers on her knees and asked, “So what are we gonna do about that guy, uh— whatshisname?”

“Fordham,” he reminded her. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do about him. Not without bringin’ ourselves even more trouble.”

“Did he say anything about Ross?”

“He asked me where he is, and… it definitely seemed like he knew I had something to do with him bein’ missing.” Jack nervously shook his leg. “Or at least suspects I did….”

“But he didn’t do anything about it? Didn’t try to lock you up or anything?”

“No. He just wanted to talk.” Jack shook his head. “Seems that’s all any of ‘em ever wanna do: talk. I don’t get it.”

With a lilt of relief, Lilly said, “They must not have much against you then.”

“Maybe not.” He scratched his chin. “They don’t even know for sure that he’s dead. They ain’t found him.” Yet, an anxious voice in his head added. They hadn’t found him yet.

“Well, that’s good, right?” she asked. “They can’t prove you killed him if they can’t even prove he’s dead.”

“Let’s hope not.”

With that, they fell into silence, Lilly continuing to fidget beside Jack as he became lost in his thoughts. He hoped that she was right, that they really wouldn’t be able to prove anything without Ross’s body. And he hoped that it would stay missing forever. Maybe he’d get lucky, and the whole thing would just blow over eventually….

Suddenly, Lilly broke the silence by asking, “You don’t have a telephone by any chance, do you?”

Jack paused and furrowed his eyebrows at her, not expecting such a question. Once his mind caught up, he answered, “I do, actually. There’s one on my desk.” He nodded in the direction of his bedroom. “Why?”

“I want to talk to my brother. Make sure he doesn’t say anything to anyone, y’know?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you gonna threaten him?”

She let out a short laugh. “I suppose that is a more candid way of putting it, yes.”

Jack’s lip involuntarily twitched into a smirk. “I’ll go grab it for ya.”

She gave a grateful smile and a small nod as he stood up.

“Hey. One more thing.” Lilly reached out and grabbed his hand with both of hers, stopping him before he could take off. “No more secrets, okay?” She squeezed his hand. ”If you ever wanna know something, just ask. I’ll tell you.”

Jack nodded. “No more secrets.”

———

Over the next few days, Jack tried to return to normal. He and Lilly continued tending to the ranch, keeping a sharp eye out for anything out of the ordinary. And when the chores were finished, he’d retreat to his bedroom, where he would try to drown himself in finishing the story he was writing.

It had become increasingly difficult to focus on it, however. He often ended up just sitting at his desk, staring blankly at the wall and tapping the end of his fancy new pen against the paper. The words refused to flow the way they had before, and it irritated him. He was getting so close to the end, yet he couldn’t bring himself to write it.

And today was no exception. There he sat, his pen in his hand, a blank sheet of paper in front of him, and an overwhelming frustration pounding at his head. Giving up, he tossed the pen onto the desk, slamming his hand down on it when it threatened to roll off the side. Then, he leaned back in his chair and stretched, groaning in tandem with the chair’s creaking.

Once he’d settled back into the chair, he glanced out the window and sighed. Maybe a little fresh air could help to clear his head…. He had been cooped up at the ranch for the entirety of the past few days, and that never tended to do his mind any favors.

He didn’t have anywhere that he needed to go, but he knew Lilly had been wanting to go out riding outside of the ranch. So he figured that was as good an excuse to get out of the house as any.

Jack pushed himself away from his desk, stood up, and headed out of his room to look for her. He quickly found her standing at the dining room table, leaning over the telephone. She was holding the receiver to her ear while impatiently tapping on the table with her free hand.

It was a position he’d found her in several times over the past few days. Ever since he told her about his encounter with Archer Fordham, she had been trying to contact her brother over the phone without much success.

Jack approached her, and she put a finger up, signaling for him to wait a moment. He heard an unintelligible voice briefly come through the receiver before Lilly sighed and slammed it down into its holder.

“Still can’t reach him?” Jack asked.

“No. He won’t answer,” Lilly said, a mix of irritation and concern hiding behind her voice. “He’s probably busy.” She pursed her lips and mumbled, “Or he’s just bein’ an asshole…. Who knows?”

She glanced away and began to wring her hands, her tense posture contrasting the nonchalance that her words tried to portray.

Jack eyed her for a few seconds. “You’re not worried?”

“No. No, I’m not—” She bit her lip and paused in thought for a moment. “Maybe a little.” She shook her head and mustered up a reassuring smile. “But I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll wring his ass out for it later once he finally decides to answer.”

“You don’t think he told on you, do you?”

Lilly blew a breath out of her nose and leaned against the table, almost sitting on it. “No. Let’s just not worry about it for now, okay?” she said, speaking quickly. “What are you up to? Did you need something?”

Taking the hint to drop the subject, Jack replied, “No, don’t need anything. Just takin’ a break.” He glanced out the window. “Can’t focus on writing, so I was thinking about goin’ out for a ride.”

A small smile crossed her face. “And I suppose you came to tell me this ‘cause you’d like me to come with you?”

He nodded. “I know you’ve been wanting to practice riding outside the ranch, and since we’ve finally got that second horse…” He trailed off and shrugged.

Her smile grew, and she stood up straight. “Sure. I’d love to.” She gestured in the direction of the master bedroom. “Just let me grab a coat first; it’s been gettin’ kinda cold out.”

“Alright. I’ll go get the horses ready. Meet me out on the porch when you’re ready.”

“Will do, Jackie.”

He scoffed at the nickname, reaching up and covering his mouth with a single hand to hide a smile. Lilly chuckled and gave him a light pat on the shoulder before turning away and heading towards the bedroom.

Jack went outside and fetched the horses, quickly saddling them up and getting them ready for the ride before leading them to the porch. By the time he got there, Lilly was already outside waiting for him, now wrapped up in a light coat. Slung over her forearm was his old tan jacket.

She hopped off the porch and came over to him, handing him the jacket.

“I ain’t cold,” he said, frowning at it.

Lilly pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “You really wanna argue about this?”

He sighed and grumbled, “Not really,” as he took the jacket from her.

She smirked at him as he slipped it on and then turned her attention to the horses. “So, who’s this?” she asked, patting his old horse on the side of her neck.

Jack rested his hand on the horse’s back. “This is Clover. She’s real friendly, and”— he glanced at Ace and let out a small laugh— “not quite as scary lookin’ as him.”

“Clover,” Lilly repeated with a grin. “That’s a cute name. Did you come up with that?”

He faltered a bit before answering, “No, uh, my ma did.”

Jack felt a slight stinging in his chest, an unwelcome reminder of the still unhealed wound his mother’s death had left on his heart. He shoved the feeling away immediately, forcing himself to stay focused on the present moment.

“Oh,” Lilly said softly, her smile falling. “I—”

Cutting her off, he cleared his throat and gestured at the horses. “Ready to go?”

She hesitated for a moment, seemingly torn between continuing what she had to say and just dropping it. To his relief, she did the latter and turned her gaze back to the horse.

“Yup. Let’s go,” she said, clapping her hands together.

Jack stood to the side and watched as she climbed up onto the horse, ready to help her if she needed it. But while her mount-up was still a bit clumsy, she was able to do it quickly on her own. As she settled into the saddle and got a grip on the reins, he hopped on his own horse.

“Where are we heading?” she asked.

“The river,” he said. “Follow me.”

He took off towards the river, and Lilly followed, lagging a few yards behind him. He stayed quiet as they rode, listening out to make sure she didn’t fall too far behind while keeping his eyes forward to navigate.

Once they’d gotten some distance from the ranch, Lilly called out to him, and the hoofbeats of her horse sped up to catch up to him.

“Huh?” Jack glanced over his shoulder at her, slowing his horse until she was riding alongside him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wobbling a bit as she slowed her horse back down.

“Why?”

“For askin’ about the horse’s name. I didn’t—”

“It’s alright.”

The stinging sensation in his chest returned, and he grimaced, turning his head so Lilly wouldn’t see. He continued talking, trying to distract himself from it: “Uh, when I got the horse, I couldn’t come up with a name for her, so my ma named her for me.”

“Well, it’s a nice name,” Lilly replied gently. “She had good taste.”

“Yeah.” He breathed out a strained laugh, the pain in his chest beginning to fade into a strange, nostalgic warmth. “It was much better than pa’s suggestion: ‘Miss Horse’.”

She laughed. “I don’t know,” she said, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “Miss Horse is pretty good too. Very creative.”

“Right.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You and pa sure would’ve gotten along well.”

As they came upon the river, Jack slowed his horse to a stop, Lilly following suit beside him. He took a moment to look around, taking in the sight of the river for the first time in a long while. He used to come there all the time with his father; it was their favorite place to practice while he was teaching Jack to ride, as well as his father’s favorite place to go fishing. The crystal clear water made the colorful fish easier to see.

Motioning for Lilly to follow, Jack spurred his horse to start slowly trotting down the trail that ran along the riverbank. He kept his pace slow, allowing her to ride alongside him with ease.

“It’s beautiful out here,” she sighed, a dreaminess in her voice that made Jack’s skin tingle.

He watched her, reveling in the way the sun hit the tanned skin on her cheek and how the stray hairs framing her face swayed in the breeze. “Yeah,” he said, a small smile crossing his face. “It is.”

They continued along the trail, stopping occasionally to appreciate the scenery. Jack would point out little details in the landscape: the small herd of deer cloaked by the bushes as they drank from the river, the tree stump he’d carved his name into years ago during a fishing trip with his father, the water lilies growing in the still parts of the water.

When they reached the end of the river, where it spilled out into the lake, they decided to take a break. They dismounted and sat down by the water’s edge, Jack taking to skipping stones across the water while Lilly picked at the tiny red and white flowers growing along the shore. She tied their stems together, forming a string not unlike the ones Jack remembered making as a kid.

They sat quietly for a while, enjoying the fresh air and the soothing sound of the waves sloshing against the shore. It was a much-needed moment of peace. He could almost forget about all of the trouble that was waiting around the corner for him.

Almost.

Before he could get too lost in thought, he turned to Lilly and broke the silence. "So… what do you think of the trail?” he asked as he dug through the stones on the ground, searching for another suitable one to skip. “You had fun riding?”

"Yeah, uh”— she twirled a flower in her hand as if it were a lasso— “yeehaw or... whatever it is you say."

Jack’s hand stilled as the phrase left her lips, awkward and unnatural in her accent. He eyed her for a moment, unable to hide his amusement. "Don't ever say that again."

Lilly snickered. "Yeah, you got it.”

He laughed with her.

She grinned at him. “Really though, the ride’s been nice.” Her expression softened, and she placed a hand on his bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for bringing me with you.”

Jack’s skin tingled where she touched him, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “O-Of course.”

Lilly looked back out at the water, her smile fading into an unreadable expression. “I never would’ve thought life would lead me here,” she said softly, shaking her head. “Workin’ on a ranch. Riding horses….”

His heart sank a little. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” she replied immediately, snapping her head to look at him. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s a good thing.”

“Oh,” he said with a light sigh of relief. He grabbed a pebble and chucked it into the water. “Well, where did you think you’d end up?”

Lilly shrugged and stared at her hands, fidgeting with the string of flowers she’d made. “I dunno. A couple years ago, I’d look to the future and see… well, nothing.” She looked back at the water and frowned. “Just… blackness. As if I were… I don’t know.”

He went quiet, stunned and saddened by her admission. He didn’t know what was worse: the fact that she’d felt that way or the fact that he knew exactly what she was talking about. After his father died, he’d experienced the same thing— looking into the future to see a hopeless void staring back at him.

All he could ever picture was himself killing Ross and then after that, nothing. As if once it was done, he would simply cease to exist. As if he were dead.

“I’m sorry.” Lilly chuckled uncomfortably. “I don’t know why I—”

“No,” Jack murmured. “I know what you mean.”

She sucked her lips in and stared at him, sadness filling her eyes. “I know you do.” She choked out a humorless laugh. “Takes one to know one, right?”

He bowed his head and, unsure of what he should say, gave a single nod in response.

He’d never stopped to think about how similar the two of them really were— maybe because the thought of her being anything like him had been unfathomable before. How could this person who always had a smile on her face possibly have the same dark thoughts that went on in his head? How could someone who felt the same pain he did possibly find it in them to be so kind?

Then again, maybe that was the reason she was so kind to him and so patient with him. She’d been there before.

He wanted to ask her if she still felt that way, but some strange part of him was afraid of the answer. Even more so, he was afraid that she would ask him the same thing, and he wouldn’t have an answer at all. He tried his hardest to avoid thinking about the future, as he feared he’d only see something worse than the blackness he was accustomed to.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt something tickling his wrist. Tensing up, he looked down at it to find Lilly loosely tying her little string of flowers around his wrist. He relaxed and looked up at her with furrowed brows.

“What?” she asked with a shy, lopsided smile as she finished tying off the stems. “It suits you.”

For a second, he stared stupidly at her, thrown off by her sudden change in tone. He looked back at his wrist, rotating it to examine the little red flowers adorning it. As he examined them, his lips automatically curved into a smile to mirror hers.

Returning his gaze to her, he snorted. “If you say so.”

She lifted her chin. “I do.”

Feeling his cheeks start to heat up, Jack took his eyes off of her again, looking out at the lake. He dug around in the dirt for another stone, picking up the first one his fingers found and skipping it across the water.

Lilly chuckled and returned to fidgeting with flowers.

They sat there quietly for a while longer, watching the lake and enjoying one another’s company until the sky began to get dimmer. At that point, Jack was reminded of all the chores they still had to finish before the end of the day, so reluctantly, he suggested that they return home.

———

About an hour after they arrived back at the ranch, Jack was working on pulling up the weeds around the silo when he spotted Lilly scurrying over to him from the other side of the house. Her arms were wrapped around herself, her posture stiff and uncomfortable. Her demeanor immediately sparked worry within him, and he tightened his grip on the weeds in his hand.

“Hey,” she said as she reached him, her voice hushed and serious.

The grim look on her face made his stomach turn. He dropped the handful of weeds he’d pulled and stood up. “What’s wrong?”

Her arms tightened around herself. “Look over my shoulder— subtly”— she nodded over her left shoulder— “at the cliff by the forest.”

He did as she said, glancing up at the ridge on the western end of the ranch just long enough to catch a couple of figures standing there, looking down at them. He didn’t get a good enough look to know who exactly they were— he didn’t want them to know he’d seen them— but he wasn’t sure he even needed a better look. Who else would be watching him besides those godforsaken government agents?

“I see,” he confirmed, locking eyes with Lilly again.

She whispered, “They’ve been up there awhile. I think they’re spying on us.”

Jack swallowed. “Seems that way.”

She looked down in thought, her foot anxiously tapping against the dirt. When she raised her head again, her expression had turned indignant. Suddenly, she whirled around and huffed, “I’ll go up there and tell ‘em to get lost.”

He grabbed her hand to stop her. “No,” he said. “Just let ‘em.”

Lilly froze and pulled her hand from his grasp before turning back around and gaping at him. “What?”

“We ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong,” he said. “They can see that for themselves.”

She stared at him, dumbstruck for a moment. “Are you—”

“I’m sure,” he affirmed, his voice cracking a bit. “Can’t really hide from it no more.”

Lilly blew out a breath, the surprise still clear on her face. “Okay, then.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t much appreciate being spied on, but I guess I’ll… try to ignore them.”

Jack wasn’t fond of the idea of them spying on her either. They could watch him all they wanted, but he didn’t want her to be dragged down with him. She was trying to remain hidden from her family back home; he didn’t want his mess with the bureau to sabotage her efforts.

“Why don’t you go inside?” he suggested.

Lilly shook her head. “I still need to feed the chickens and lock them up for the night.”

He waved off her concerns. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll do it.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flitting to the chicken coop and then up at the men standing on the ridge. When she looked back at Jack, she nodded and murmured, “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

With a small smile of gratitude, Lilly headed towards the house.

Once she’d disappeared inside, Jack’s gaze flipped back to the men watching him, no longer trying to hide the fact that he’d noticed them. He held their gaze, keeping his chin up in spite of the quickening of his heart and the trembling of his knees. He wanted them to feel that he wasn’t afraid of them.

Once he thought his point had been made, he lowered his head and returned to work. He finished pulling up the patch of weeds he was working on and then headed for the chicken coop to complete the night’s chores, keenly aware of the eyes trained on him the entire time.

———

“Jack. Jack, wake up.”

Jack opened his eyes to the sound of Lilly’s voice and the feeling of her hand on his shoulder, shaking him as he lay in his bed. Upon seeing that he was awake, she flipped on the lamp on his bedside table, the sudden change in lighting making him squint.

“What?” he asked, voice slurred from sleep.

“Get up.”

The urgency in her voice made his blood run cold, and every lingering bit of drowsiness gave way to panic. He sat up abruptly, tossing his thin blanket off of him.

“Why? What’s happening? Agents?”

“No,” she said. “Coyotes.”

“Coyotes? Wh—”

“By the chicken coop.” She pointed out the window. “They broke in somehow and started attackin’ the chickens. And I tried to scare ‘em off, but they weren’t phased. They— they scared me off instead,” she explained, speaking almost too quickly to be understood.

At first, Jack was overcome with relief, but the second he heard the sharp, eerie howling from the animals outside, his stomach sank. They couldn’t afford to lose their chickens.

He leaned forward to look out the window, seeing nothing but the all-encompassing darkness of the night.

“Crap,” he growled, standing up from his bed. As he scrambled to the corner of his room to slip on his boots, he addressed Lilly, “I’ll take care of it. Go get a lantern; there’s one out in the shed.”

She nodded and took off, the sound of her rapid footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Once he’d gotten his shoes on, he sprinted out of his room, heading for the attic where all of his father’s old guns and ammunition were tucked away in a large chest. He pulled out a shotgun and loaded it. It was caked in grime and beginning to rust, but it would have to do.

He rushed outside next, swinging the back door open to the unsettling symphony of howling coyotes and screeching chickens. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was able to make out the vague silhouettes of the animals by the coop, and he ran straight for them.

What followed was a mess of poorly-aimed gunshots and the yipping and screaming of the coyotes. Jack wasn’t sure if he actually managed to hit any of them— it was too dark to tell— but it wasn’t long before they started to flee.

As their cries faded into the distance, he tossed his shotgun onto the ground and approached the coop. Squinting through the darkness, he saw the outlines of a few hens lying unmoving on the ground around the building, and his stomach churned. There was no sign of any of the others, nor of the rooster.

He inspected the coop next, a single question running through his mind: how had this happened? The hole he’d patched weeks ago was still covered, and a kick to the wood confirmed that it was sturdy. There were no new holes that he could see, and all of the windows were tightly shut.

He got his answer when he pushed on the door, and it swung open with no resistance. He had forgotten to latch it the night before. He had been so focused on those bureau agents watching him that he failed to do the most simple task to keep the animals safe. This whole thing was entirely his fault.

Jack stepped away, letting the door swing itself shut, and plopped down onto the stairs. He stared blankly at the ground, the shame he felt threatening to swallow him whole. Fixing up the ranch had been the only thing that seemed to be going right in his life. He knew he wasn’t the best rancher, but he was making progress; the place was looking better every day.

He should’ve expected he’d manage to ruin that too.

He looked up when he spotted a light out of the corner of his eye, rapidly coming towards him. It was Lilly, finally arriving with the lantern, which swung in her hand as she ran to him.

She froze a short distance away, cursing under her breath as the lantern illuminated the carnage surrounding the coop. Lifting her skirt a bit, she stepped over the remains of one of the hens to join him. Squeezing into the tiny space remaining on the stairs, she sat beside him.

She took another glance around and shuddered before finally speaking: “H-How did they—”

“I forgot to latch the door yesterday,” Jack muttered against his hand. He took a deep, shaky breath as his hand floated up to stroke his forehead. “Some rancher I am…”

“Hey,” Lilly said lightly. “You’re much better at it than I am.”

Without thinking, he snapped back, “That ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”

She scoffed, taken aback by his sudden hostility. “Well, shit,” she muttered, sounding halfway between offended and amused. “Tell me how you really feel….”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he stammered, remorse flooding him immediately. “It’s just—” Jack clenched his fist and slammed it down onto his knee. “Everything’s fallin’ apart. Like it always does…”

Her face fell. “Oh… It’s not just about the chickens,” she said quietly, speaking more to herself than to him.

“No,” he said. “Not completely.”

She leaned closer to him. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m tired of everything always goin’ wrong. Just once, I want something to go the way it’s supposed to. But instead, everything just keeps getting worse and worse every day, and I—” His voice caught in his throat. “I’m scared.”

As much as he hated to admit it, as much as he tried to shove the feeling down and bury it under some delusional hope that everything would turn out okay, he couldn’t deny it. He was terrified of the bureau. Terrified of Archer Fordham. Terrified of how powerless he truly was against them.

He didn’t want to die. For the first time in forever, he could honestly say that with certainty. But it seemed that that wasn’t up to him anymore; it didn’t matter what he wanted.

His eyes began to sting, and he clenched the fist resting on his knee tighter. He bowed his head, his other hand flying up to his face to conceal any stray tears.

Lilly placed her hand on his fist, gently uncurled his fingers, and interlocked them with hers. “Hey,” she said, the sweet softness of her voice taking some of the tension out of his shoulders. “It’s okay. We— we’ll figure something out.”

Jack sniffled and looked up at her. “How? What are we gonna do?”

The look on her face told him she didn’t have any more of a clue than he did. After a moment of contemplation, she softly asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to leave here?”

“I can’t,” he replied immediately. “I— They loved this place.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” he said, the words coming out unsure. “Or… I did, and I want to again. I have to.”

Lilly hummed in understanding.

Jack shook his head. “Even if I did wanna leave, where could I go? Ain’t got no money, or… or anything.”

“I don’t know,” Lilly said. “But wherever you decide to stay”— she squeezed his hand— “I’ll be there with you. You can count on that.”

Her promise tugged at his heart, soothing one of the deepest wounds inside of it and filling his chest with warmth. He glanced down at their interlocked hands, and the feeling intensified. Reaching over, he placed his free hand on top of hers and held on tighter. Lilly followed suit, tightening her grip on him.

Jack locked eyes with her again, sucking in his lips to fight back tears as he gave her an expression of gratitude.

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this— to deserve a friend like her. She was perfect. Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word but perfect nonetheless— perfect to him. Perfect for him.

Her ability to laugh and wave off all of his social gracelessness. The way she could ramble on about anything, content to let him listen in silence. The sound of her voice and the way the accent in it came out full force when she was passionate about something. Her laugh, her smile…. He could go on for days. It was all just perfect. And he loved her for it; he really did.

He loved her.

The realization hit him hard in the chest, pushing all the air out of his lungs.

It was obvious, wasn’t it? So painfully obvious, yet he’d been too stupid, too in denial, too afraid, to admit it before.

He’d tried so hard to convince himself that everything he felt towards his friend was normal, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t normal how much he cared for her. It wasn’t normal for his heart to jump in his chest every time he looked at her. It wasn’t normal for him to think she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Snapping back to reality, he realized he was still staring at her face, still holding her hand. She was smiling at him— the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen— and it made his stomach flip-flop.

Jack opened his mouth, but he couldn’t get anything to come out. What would he say anyway? What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t even remember what exactly they had been talking about anymore. Every thought he tried to form was drowned out by the increasing thumping of his heart.

He looked away and pulled his hands out of Lilly’s grasp before she could notice the sweat beginning to form on his palms. A glance at her face told him she was disappointed he had done so— or maybe he was just imagining that; he must have been.

Jack stared at the ground, breathing slowly through his nose and trying to ignore the strange tension in the air. He wanted to speak, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember how.

Lilly folded her hands in her lap and toed the dirt with her shoe, pausing when the coop’s rooster finally made an appearance. It appeared completely uninjured as it waddled up to them, stopping a few feet away to peck at the ground.

Lilly snorted. “Look who’s decided to show up.” She crossed her arms and leaned forward, getting closer to the rooster’s eye level. “Of course this little asshole would survive.”

The rooster paused and cocked its head at her.

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ ‘bout you, buddy,” she said, a laugh hiding behind her mock-serious tone. “The fuck happened here? Aren’t you supposed to protect the hens? What have you got to say for yourself?”

It stared blankly at her.

Lilly clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Despicable.”

The absurdity of that exchange helped greatly to ease some of the tension Jack felt, and he managed a small, vaguely distracted laugh. He kept his head down, but he could feel her turn to look at him again, likely once again wearing that smile that kept turning him to mush.

When she spoke again after a few moments of silence, her voice was softer. “You can go back to bed if you want. I’ll clean all this up.”

Jack frowned, scanning over the mess around them. “I should clean it up,” he murmured. “S’my fault.”

Lilly tsked, rose to her feet with a soft groan, and moved to stand in front of him. “I think you’ve got enough on your shoulders,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders and giving them a squeeze. “Just let me take care of it, okay?”

He finally worked up the courage to look at her, finding a reassuring warmth in her eyes. Those pretty green eyes….

God, help him.

Jack swallowed and broke eye contact. “Okay.”

She stepped away, allowing him the space to stand up. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he bid her a quick goodnight and rushed back to his bedroom.

#jack marston #adult jack marston #my writing #//my blessed son

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hadesknockedupintheunderworld · 1 year ago

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(Sharing an au a friend and I explored a bit that I just need to be out there)

ㅤ

So. Surge and Kit share the same place. Now they don't have stable housing (as if they could afford that). No, they just sort of jump from place to place, living any place with some sort of roof. Right now they've been living in an abandoned cabin. The cabin is a bit run down, and the roof leaks a bit when it rains. There's no food. But the location isn't bad! It's close enough to civilization that the two could walk to the nearest city/town, but far enough away that no one'll bother them (much less care that they're squatting in abandoned property)

Now Surge has decided (for a reason we have not yet decided upon) that she wants to spend some time away from Kit (perhaps to prove for herself whether their relationship means anything more than the roles forced upon the two of them or the fact that having someone devoted to you can be a helpful tool, or if this all even matters. Or perhaps she just needs some alone time to think, to figure some stuff out). So, Surge (knowing that Kit can take care of himself) sends him out of the cabin for a while (doesn't give him an end date), tells him to go have fun or do whatever it is he wants to do for the time being.

Reluctantly, Kit obeys. He takes the front door out, closes it behind him.

As for Surge, she spends the better part of a week doing whatever. Leaves the cabin to get food, sleeps in, steals from window shops at different stores. She tries some things she's always wanted to out in the city. And in the end...she (although she won't admit it) finds it's a bit lonely without Kit there. She finds that she doesn't much mind her life as it is, nor does she really care if their relationship was forced upon them (because if Kit wants to go against it, that's for him to decide), and she finds out some things about herself (as she is now) and what she likes. So when week 2 begins, she waits inside. Sure, she still goes out to get food at first, but she just waits for Kit to come back.

Because he will, right? There's no way he can leave her alone for any longer, not with how close he sticks to her most of the time, can he?

Meanwhile, Kit hadn't gone very far. After obeying Surge, he'd circled the cabin and decided to stand at the back door. Day and night, rain or snow, he stands behind the cabin, just waiting for Surge to come back.

After about two weeks (Surge hasn't left the cabin for a couple days at least), she finally concedes, talking into the empty cabin.

"...Guess he's not coming back."

And she's...obviously not sad about it (definite lie), because this was always a possibility after they took their time alone. And if Kit decided he didn't want to wreak some havoc with her anymore, that he was no longer devoted, then she doesn't need him. She doesn't need flimsy "bonds". To be honest, in a few days she should probably gather her stuff and–

Amy walks through the front door of the cabin unannounced, doesn't even bother to knock or announce her presence.

And Surge, instead of going on the offensive, assuming Amy meant to fight, or instead of wondering how Amy found their current hideout, takes a brief minute to pretend that she is in no way even slightly depressed or living like shit (that she's totally taking care of herself and she just loves the sound of the rain drops hitting the wood floors).

But Amy, even if it takes a little bit, manages to pull the problem out of her. She's not convinced that Surge is right (that Kit abandoned the place and decided he doesn't need her), about as much as she's not convinced that Surge is completely fine over the prospect of Kit abandoning her.

"Okay, okay. It's fine if you're worried about him, you know. And I don't think it's like you say!"

"I'm not worried about him. He can take care of himself, and his choices are none of my business. He can do what he wants."

Amy sighs, shaking her head. "If he's lost out there in all that heavy rain, I'll find him." And if Surge says anything after that, Amy doesn't hear her. She tunes out everything else for a moment as she turns her head, happening to glance out the back window.

When Amy spots a glimpse of Kit, standing out back in the heavy rain, she isn't sure whether she's sadder about the implications of this, or angrier at Surge for not looking out her own window. Heedless of anything Surge could be doing or saying at the moment, Amy opens the back door, fully intending to drag Kit inside.

"How long have you been standing out here?!"

Kit only shrugs, looks at Surge just past her. "Waiting for you to come back."

Surge grits her teeth, anger and relief rushing her heart at once. "You idiot." She stomps out of sight, looking around for a dry cloth, while Amy pulls Kit inside and tries to start a fire in the old fireplace.

And while Amy is still angry at Surge (all she had to do was look behind the cabin!), she can't help but smile when Surge drapes the dry blanket over him.

Now, as for Surge, at some point she informs Kit that she'll be leaving this place soon, as the enemy (she gestures to Amy) has found them. So, she'll be leaving before sunrise.

The statement isn't very direct, but Amy gets the point. Surge's statement is code for "If you want to go with me, you better be there".

And Kit, perhaps he smiles just slightly, so relieved that Surge does want him (not that he requires this. Of course, if Surge left for good, he'd most likely trail her from afar. He doesn't even require appreciation or genuine want. But that doesn't mean he can't feel happy when she proves she does care, even a little).

And I'd like to think that after finding out for sure that he'd just waited in the same place for two weeks, she takes him to do some of the things she'd done during that first week (under the guise of giving him some enjoyment, since he didn't do anything those two weeks, even though she'd ordered him to. Although deep down, she'd also wanted to do these things with him, so as to enjoy them without feeling lonely, to share this with him) and treats him a little before they find their new temporary sleeping place.

#For the record while this is a Kiturge idea Surgamy is implied as well. so I'll tag it just know it's mostly Kiturge #kiturge #surgamy #kit the fennec #kitsunami the fennec #surge the tenrec #amy rose #amy the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonic idw comic #kit x surge #surge x kit #I should mention that I haven't read the idw comics so I know I'm not 100% solid on Kit and Surge or their situation but I do know a little #I just think their inherently complicated relationship is just so neat #Also since I couldn't find any kiturge content on tumblr and can't currently write fic for them I just *really*#needed to make the tag a thing #i just be ramblin #Gotta love a fucked up (but also power couple) of little buddy and character they're devoted to 'we're the strongest relationship either of #us have' relationship #au musings #perverted bond

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moki-dokie · 2 years ago

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I wish I had the same tools and resources as other artists my age did in their formative years. I wish I had some of the tools I have now back then. I wish my brain worked like most people's and that I could visualize light sources and how it interacts with a subject. I wish I had the time and money to go take some real university art classes. I wish a severe years long battle with depression didn't rob me of creativity so badly that I lost what little skill I had. I wish I hadn't developed a bad tremor and twitch thanks to medication meant to fight that depression. I wish I had enough time in the day to actually do art how I want.

There's a ton of things I wish I could change, have, or do in regards to art. I'll never not be extremely envious of artists decades younger than me that are already so insanely skilled that they can pitch a portfolio to studios. I'll never not be jealous of peers my age that continue to grow and get even better at something they're already so good at.

But, at the same time, I've learned to be gentler on myself. I've forgiven myself for the things out of my control. And instead of staying stuck in an endless negative spiral and lamenting all the what-ifs and could-bes, I choose to go forward and make art anyway. I choose to have fun with it again, to doodle and experiment. I allow myself the freedom to start over and learn. I still don't have all the resources available to me that I wish I did but I won't let that stop me. It can still be extremely frustrating when I want to draw something and simply can't figure out how or when nothing turns out how it looks in my head, but it isn't the end of the world. I'll make something else, learn something new, and continue.

It's hard to start over in your mid 30s, but I'd rather do this than bang my head against a wall forever and hate everything I do to the point of not doing it at all. Finding the joy in creating again has been key. And sometimes that means sketching studies of cats for weeks on end because their anatomy is pleasing to work with and I can find myself learning while I'm at it, to the point that soon I won't need endless refs and I'll be able to draw them mostly from memory. Sometimes that means turning a funny meme into a full comic page just to challenge myself with expressions and panel layouts or to play around with color or grayscale. Sometimes it means leaving something I was working on for weeks or months and then coming back to it with a fresh perspective, new knowledge, and rekindled joy that made me start it in the first place. And, sometimes it's merely finding a bunch of tutorials and trying them out to see what happens.

It's crazy how much this ipad has really boosted my creativity. Not being tied to my PC is a huge bonus, as is the feeling of drawing on paper (bless paper like screen protectors!) And drawing directly on the surface. A stylus that behaves like an actual pencil (or pen, or brush, or whatever) has been tremendously rewarding and fun. I think a lot of my frustrations before were purely because I just didn't have the right tools. My Wacom was a piece of shit that only worked with sai which wasn't ideal. This is miles better, I really can't even describe it.

Anyway all this to say that if you're struggling with your art, it's ok. Be kinder to yourself, cut yourself some slack, and maybe just doodle pages and pages of silly looking cats for the hell of it. Whatever brings some measure of joy.

#art #artists on tumblr #idk just some thoughts floating around

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penandwind · 1 year ago

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I sometimes liken my depression/anxiety/whatever the fuck mental illness as its own seperate sentient being, or something akin to a virus. It seems to adapt and mutate to any change in my life that might weaken it, taking on new strategies to make me suffer. Of course I know thats not whats really going on, but its an apt metaphor.

Its latest "mutation" by far is the most clever and cunning on its part however. Recently I talked about how I feel alone because I can't ever be my full self around someone, how for some reason that its too much and drives people away. I considered going back to therapy for a while just to help keep my head above water. But then a single thought struck my mind like a stone and shattered that notion. The thought that my problem is I have nobody who will willingly try and understand me fully, want me to be my full self, and my solution is to pay somene and forcibly listen because nobody truly does. I have to pay someone to let me be me and not run away.

Just like that, the conecpt of going to therapy is now ruined. Because its a bleak realization, but its a true one. I'm not the kind of person who can lose myself in the moment for an experience I know is fake. I wish I were, though if I was I'd probably blow all my money on sex workers asking them to pretend to care about me. But I can't lose myself in experiences like that, a voice in the pack of my mind reminds me it isn't real, its fake and doesn't mean anything. And now that applies to therapy I guess. A fucking brilliant strategem on my Despair's part. Cripple the only real danger to it since my life is and always will be like this, with no improvement.

There's a great irony in how for most of my life, I resisted my addictions. I saw how my dad's drug use ruined our family and his life, and I made a vow to fight against my high susceptibility to substance additction so I would end up better than that, better than him. And yet, here I am... a fucking disaster far worse off than he was at this age. I'm the age when my mom divorced him. He had a loving family, a house, lots of things precious to him. He had shit to lose, and he lost most of it. I'm his same age and I've never been loved will forever be poor, disabled, and living in suqalor. Literally the only reason I can't just go "fuck it" and just start buying whatever drugs I can get my hands on is because I'm literally so socially inept and removed from society that I have no contacts who I can ask for such things nor do I have the ability to find such people. Its very dark and painful. Please, at least turn me into the monster you treat me like so it at least makes sense.

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minarcana · 10 months ago

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sorry for all the ooc, things are wrong with me. anyways i was in prae for the umpteenth time and every time im there all i can picture is the gaius that lives in my brain being forced to go through prae and its him with his head in his hands like "please. dont. dont make me remember being Like This"

im going to talk about gaius, sorry

(caveat: i have a better werlyt in my brain.)

his arc is that he went from a True Believer to "ah. these are people.". me forcing him to live thru prae era again is the cringe punishment cube.

a clarification to werlyt arc rewrite: yeah he did war crimes and he did them on purpose. he was aware they were war crimes. he knew that other legions did bad things, though he consistently underestimated the amount and cruelty of human experimentation going on. he knew other legions tended to treat eorzeans as lesser

however he really did believe in Something. he believed varis's propaganda and that varis was a benevolent leader, that it wasnt just primals but eorzea's belief in gods in general that were killing their own land bc he cant tell the difference between a primal and a god. he was fully committed to "these people are savages and heres some fuckin, fantasy version of the white mans burden" which is obviously incredibly wrong and fucked but yknow, it fuels the war machine. he was a soldier who never even thought to ask questions.

all he did was believe wholeheartedly in the propaganda fed to him and therefore rationalize "torching this entire country is fine, right". cannot stress enough i am not excusing the war crimes. im just making him a consistent character with a mildly rational arc. he super did those war crimes and did them on purpose. but he also did protect the war orphans his own war caused and had no issue whatsoever letting eorzeans who wanted to join the army to protect themselves do so. equality of opportunity providing you pledged fealty to garlemald, bc being of garlemald's population made you Better and Not A Savage and therein lies the line of who it's fine to kill if they fight back and who can be treated with respect.

unfortunately, ascians. gaius got his ass handed to him and the result is [nervous laughter] oh shit the army is super not infalliable and always right and very capable of and prone to wanton destruction instead of targeted attacks specifically to claim territory, hence the depression arc. he's pissed at ascians and wants to die. two birds one stone, hunt ascians till one of them kills him. meet people who want him dead and yknow theyve got a fucking point.

though he did still believe in the last vestige of "maybe things arent completely fucked and i didnt spend my entire life believing in utter bullshit lies?" that varis was a Good Emperor and Capable Of/Genuinely Interested In Ensuring Protection Of Garleans until the black rose incident. he still had a weird loyalty towards him that maybe he could get varis to like. not enact biological warfare against his own men. if he were just able to talk to him. but twas not to be and gaius essentially just [throws hands into air] OKAY! FINE! FUCK ME I GUESS!

hed already entirely lost faith that anything in garlemald's extant ruling structure could be salvaged while they still tried to wage war, weapon series just brought into light how deeply rotten the army had been the entire time when gaius had turned a blind eye to any operations that weren't his own.

if he met himself from his prae monologue now he'd strangle one of himself he doesnt care which one just free him from whatever this is hed Rather Die

the only thing im keeping him actually genuinely 100% totally unaware of from werlyt is the weird Thing livia had for him. shes out there hollering HIS BODY IS MINE as gaius is like "[completely out of earshot every time she does that] haha livia shes like a relative of mine i guess" and thats because i think its very funny.

on a SECOND DIGRESSION ABOUT PRAETORIUM

like. look. garleans cant use aether. i desperately want the explanation for how the fuck this man is pulling shadow clones out of his ass when he repels magic. i choose to believe the X beams are either ceruleum fire or aether cartridges charged by someone else but this cannot explain fuckin naruto shadow clone jutsu going on. what the fuck, gaius.

#headcanon : gaius #sometimes i see people giving werlyt a bunch of shit and i go :(! before remembering that the Consistent Gaius Character only exists for me #me like aww it wasnt that bad-- oh wait yes it was oopsies

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simonimonim · 2 years ago

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So I have problems making friends. I don't know why, but I don't know what people want from a friend, and even when I try my best to make them happy, it still isn't enough? And because of this, in the past, when someone shows the least bit interest of hanging out withe and genuinely being my friend, I label them my "best friend" which in my head is a lifelong friend, ride or die, very special person.

Every time I have applied that label to someone, somethimg happens and we not only are not best friends, but never speak again.

In 1st grade there was Erica, she moved away and we lost touch

In 5th grade there was Amber, we got into a huge fight and she moved away

In 6th grade there was Jasmine, she moved away and we lost touch

In 7th and 8th grade there was Brianna, I moved away and got really depressed and we lost touch. She turmed out to be kind of racist when we reconnected

In 10th grade there was Sabra and Te'Aannie, Te'Aannie stopped coming around as much when she got a new boyfriend, and we were kind of judgemental of the relationship anyway. Sabra moved away and then moved back and then in college, I told her I felt like I wasn't getting the same effort I gave her. She was insulted, kind of went off on me, and that was the end of that

My roommate freshman year, Kia, after I called her my best friend, said she didn't feel the same about me, but loved being my friend. It would later come out that she had been manipulating our friend group at various points so that we were all against one person at a time.

From that situation came Tyson, who after an off campus party where we had both been smoking and drinking, sexually assaulted me in my own bed.

Then there was Courtney, a girl so toxic it's hard to believe I even put up with it. She got me comfortable enough for me to call her my best friend, only to throw my imsecurity back in my face, after a disagreement over dog food. Later reflections on this friendship revealed that I am so much better without someone who blatantly ignores my anxieties and lashes out when she doesn't get her way.

After that, I resolved to never call anyone my best friend again. I always got let down and hurt. Which wasn't incorrect. After this incident there was Theresa, who used me as a place to dump her emotional baggage and a renewable source of whatever she needed, whether it was my car, or a place to crash after drunk driving, or someone to move her back into the barracks after she broke up with her long term boyfriend in the shittiest way possible

In 2022 I met Nesha, because she was dating said boyfriend. Nesha and I clicked right away. I got my nose pierced because Nesha had one and told me I'd look cute with it. We did a sip and paint and facetimed our mutual friend, gone off a couple glasses of wine. We talked for hours when they ended things because she was so heartbroken because she actually liked him and wanted to see where things went. We were fast friends.

Nesha randomly bought me an orchid, one if her favorite flowers, to thank me for being her friend. It was such a ME gesture. I immediately named the orchid Olivia, placed her in my kitchen and promised to always take care of her.

Nesha introduced me to her best friend Shelby and even drove down to our new place with Shelby to let us meet and help me get on my feet. In case you didn't know, pcsing to a smaller place with a toddler and a husband who works 18 hour days is hard as shit. But they never judged me, they helped me, cooked for me, played with my son, and loved on me the entire time. I had never experienced that kind of effort.

A couple of weeks ago, I told Shelby and Nesha they were my best friends, after fighting with myself for months about saying it. They laughed in my face and said "if you never said it, that's okay, what's known doesn't need to be said" and after I got over my indignation, I laughed too. They really got me.

Now is probably the time to say that I have trypophobia. Plant roots make my skin itch and I literally start shaking at the sight of an overturned tree stump. This also means I have never done a single bit of horticulture, gardening, whatever.

Over the last few months, since I got her, I've been watering Olivia once a week or when the roots get silver, but she got a little beat up in the move. My BEST FRIEND gave me that orchid so I can't let it die. So today in the name of friendship, I repotted my orchid. My hands were shaking and I thought I was gonna cry but I did it. And Shelby told me she was so proud of me.

I'm still terrified they'll change their minds and decide I'm not worth the hassle. Maybe keeping Olivia the Orchid alive is my way of preserving the friendship. But today, I'm not afraid, because they know how hard that was for me and recognized me. I love my girls.

And I love my orchid.

#orchid #trauma dump #shouting into the void #the shouting void #long reads #best friends #trauma #healing #love #plants

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remcycl333 · 3 years ago

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you don’t need to be happy to be manifest!! but...

who doesn’t want to be happy?

(long post alert, sorry in advance lol. but please read it all the way through, i really think it’ll be worth it<3)

ok, to preface this, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. i’ve manifested great, positive things while i was in depressive episodes. i manifested wonderful things with tears streaming down my face. BUT, i think something a lot of people overlook is that it’s really beneficial to feel positively about your desires.

this is something i realized a few months ago, saw great results from, and then forgot all about and, well, stopped seeing the progress i wanted. but i’m back on track now, don’t you worry.

(i’m going to be using the example of my sp, bc that’s what i have the most experience with, but this applies to literally anything u r manifesting)

i’ve made a few other posts saying pretty much what i’m about to say in this next paragraph, so if you’ve already read those, i’m sorry for repeating myself. just bear with me lol.

so i came to a realization a few months ago--and i don’t exactly remember how i came to this realization--that i kind of...hated my sp? like i fucking resented him. and i was like, wait a minute, that’s not right. i love my sp. that’s why i’m trying to manifest him! so why do i feel like this?

i used to focus on manifesting in steps, so naturally the first step was contact. so i’d be affirming all day every day “my sp is texting me right fucking now😡“ (and other variations) and then when he didn’t text me, it’d just make me angry at him. but technically, he didn’t even do anything wrong?? sure he didn’t text me, but he had no clue he was supposed to? idk it was all complicated and weird. and then when i wasn’t mad that he didn’t text me, i was having arguments with him in my head, preparing for some weird fight that my brain just assumed was going to happen whenever we did get into contact. which is weird, bc my sp and i never fight. like, this is my ex. yet i literally cannot tell you a single fight that we have ever had. we literally get along perfectly. we have never fought (or even argued) once in all the time that we’ve known each other. yet my brain was always fighting him. and it was just, exhausting?

and so one day, when i was troubleshooting, i realized: rem, if you were in a relationship right now with your sp, would u hate him? would u be constantly fighting with him? god i fucking hope not!

now, what would i be thinking? i’d be laying in bed at night, hugging my pillow, thinking about how much i love him. reflecting on how happy he makes me, how perfect he is, how good he makes me feel. i’d be thinking about how he is the most perfect boyfriend i could ever have asked for. i’d be content after spending a long day with him, excited to spend the next day with him as well.

and during the day i wouldn’t be wondering why he wasn’t texting me. if anything, i’d be wondering why he was texting me considering we were literally hanging out, together, at that very moment!

i would trust him. i’d be walking on cloud nine. i’d be content. i’d be...happy.

now, in no way am i saying that you need to be happy 24/7, or dancing on air, or feeling intense butterflies in your stomach. you’re allowed to have other emotions. you’re allowed to feel anger, you’re allowed to break down and cry! you’re allowed to have bad days. but if you’re feeling these negative emotions about your desire, i want you to try your hardest to release them. i don’t think any of us want to have breakdowns over our manifestations and cry about them, but if it happens, it happens. just pick yourself up afterwards--or stop it before it even really begins, trust me, it gets easier to do this--and maybe do a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, and remind yourself why you’re on this journey in the first place. once again using the sp example, it’s because you love your sp. because they are perfect for you! they make you happy. you love their smile, their laugh, the witty conversations you have with each other. you love being in their arms. you love when they’re in your arms! they did something that made you fall in love with them, or want to be in a relationship with them. what was it? focus on that.

enough with the sammy ingram (i could go on a whole rant about her) style affirmations. with the “he’s going to fucking text me, he has no choice, he’s my fucking boyfriend and he does what i say.” like....ew?? i used to say shit like this, and it was really what started making me resent my sp. i was ordering him around in my head, creating this weird dynamic between us (which, he wasn’t even aware was there), and getting mad when he wasn’t doing what i was ordering him to do. looking back, it was borderline psychotic. it was just turning it into me against him, and that’s not what i wanted at all. i want to be in a relationship with him, with mutual love. i don’t want to be his boss, or his mom, or his fucking military sergeant!! (i don’t even know if that was the proper term bc fuck the military, but u guys know what i mean lmfaooo)

(disclaimer if u use these types of affirmations and they work for you, go for it. but i used them for a while and they just weren’t it for me. carry on)

i guess what i’m trying to say is, those affirmations weren’t making me feel good. they weren’t making me feel like a “boss ass bitch”. they were making me feel...like a bitch. and strangely, powerless. i’d say these affirmations, or just bland ones where i wasn’t necessarily demanding my sp to throw himself at my feet and kiss my shoes and tell me he is nothing without me, and ultimately, if i wasn’t feeling resentment, i was feeling...nothing.

once again, i want to make this so so so clear, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. but my belief? if your affirmations aren’t making you feel joy, or excitement, or contentment, then what’s the fucking point? if you think of your desire, and don’t feel positive feelings about it, then you might have lost your way a little.

don’t worry!! it’s an easy fix. easy, and even...fun? rewarding? comforting? i just want you to take some time--laying in bed at night is the perfect time to do this in my experience--to think about why you want your desire so badly. do you want money? think of how great life is going to be once you have it. of all the stuff you’re going to buy, for yourself, and maybe even for others. don’t focus on the problems you want to fix with it right now. think of that clothing item you’ve had your eye on, or that book you’ve been wanting to read but haven’t felt like “wasting” money on. think of how excited you are to buy those things, because you’re going to! think of the good. not the bad.

remember: you create more of what you focus on. focus on the good, get the good. focus more on the bad...get more of the bad.

your manifestation is done. it is created. it is on it’s way to you. it is here! all there’s left to do is feel excited. it’ll be here any moment now, how fucking exciting is that! it’s safe for you to be happy. it’s safe for you to focus on the feelings you would have if you had it, rather than focus on affirming specifically to bring it to you. it is safe to be happy.

i used to affirm solely for contact, all day every day, and sometimes i’d get it. but it’d be short lived, my sp would be distant, etc. but then once i started focusing on truly living in the end and basking in my love for my sp, thinking about how perfect and amazing he is, i not only got contact (without having to specifically affirm for it), but he was actively engaged in our conversations, making up new topics to keep the conversation going, asking me about and expressing interest in my hobbies and interests, bringing up and reminiscing on old memories of our previous relationship, complimenting me, flirting with me, asking me to hang out, etc. shit i was not getting when i was “he is so fucking in love with me and he’s texting me right fucking now”-ing all day long. i started focusing on how amazing and perfect and good to me he was, and that’s exactly what i got in my reality. who would’ve thunk?

and you know what? yeah, he fucking loves me. he misses me and he wants to be with me. but that’s a given. but that doesn’t fucking matter. i am the only person who matters in my reality!! sure he loves me, but do i love him??? that’s what the universe wants to know. that’s what truly fucking matters. the universe brings me my desires. so i’m gonna fucking desire it!

guys, please trust me on this. just try it out, with whatever you’re manifesting. this could be what you’re missing. this could bring your manifestation to you. i promise, if you’re like i was and feel resententment or anger or hatred towards your desire, this is going to make you feel so fucking good. just stick with this for a week or two. i promise, you’ll see movement.

and remember, there is no one to change but self. don’t change them (or it), change your perception of them (or it).

let’s make manifesting fun again!!! it’s the perfect tool to bring happiness into your life. so fucking let it!!!!

so no, you don’t need to be happy in order to manifest. but....maybe, just maybe, prioritizing your happiness isn’t such a bad thing. i mean, who doesn’t want to be happy?

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting

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kiridarling · 4 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bnha smut #bakugou smut #mha smut

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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

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I just read what is and what should never be and it was PHENOMENAL! I love everything you write anyway so I was wondering if you could do a small one where Bucky is alone and depressed and he calls yn because he feels lost and she is just there for him? No worries if you can't! I love you anyway 💕

Omg!! You’re too sweet! I really wanted to do this one justice, but I suck at angst... I love you too!! and I’m sorry if this sucks!

Summary: after the events of Endgame, you and Bucky part ways. Even though you haven’t spoken in months, when he needs you, you’re there ANGST 2.2k

Warnings: overall angsty vibes. Sad Bucky. Idk depictions of depression I guess? shitty writing!

“You came” Bucky's surprised tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Before saying anything else, you shook your head in disbelief. From certain points of view, he looked exactly the same as when you last saw him months ago, but if you looked past his rugged exterior, it was very easy to tell something was truly eating away at his heart.

“Of course I came” you frowned, “You called me”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Bucky mumbled.

You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused by his statement, but decided to keep the tone of the conversation from going too dark too fast. “Shut up, Barnes” you scoffed, “Don’t even joke about that.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, but it was forced, you could easily tell he wasn’t truly being himself. “What’s up?”

Bucky took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to word his thoughts. When his eyes met yours he flinched, the pain clouding his otherwise bright blue eyes. He started with a long sigh and a shake of his head but then, cringed as he finally spoke up. “I need help”

His confession went directly to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Whatever it is, you got it, but what-”

“Nothing happened” Bucky stopped you, “I need help”

“I don’t understand”

“I need someone to-” he sighed, closing his eyes as his head fell forward in what could only be described as shame, “I need someone to talk to” and it was funny, considering he just walked out of his psychiatrist’s office. “Someone that’s not paid to listen to me” he added, “Someone who understands”

It was moments like these that you truly wished Steve was still here. Or Nat. Your best friends, yes, but they were the glue that held you all together, and now in their absence, you were all threatening to fall apart.

But of course you’d be there for Bucky. Whatever he needed you were more than eager to provide, but at the same time, you were fully aware that your capabilities were limited. You didn’t lack the understanding or the experience, but you lacked the words. You had the sympathy, but not the advice he needed. But you were there. Like you have always been and always will be, so, that afternoon you ended up on his living room floor.

Surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol that had no effect on either of you whatsoever, you sat and listened to him rant his heart out until his throat couldn’t take it anymore. And then he broke down - completely. A full on mess, tears staining his cheeks as the temperature dropped in the room with every other pained groan he’d release. But he let it all out and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulder was unimaginable. There were too many things eating away at his heart, but the guilt was what kept him under its spell, what kept him up for the last months, what was physically destroying him.

“Y/n... “ he called for you, face hidden in his hands as he spoke, “I know you’re gonna say no, but-”

“No,” you stopped him, “Then don’t ask me”

“Please”

“No, Bucky” you sighed, grabbing his wrist so you could look him in the eyes, “If you already know it’s a bad idea, please don’t tell me because I’m afraid I’ll actually go through with it right now”

“But i can’t fucking sleep!” he cried out loud, falling back against the couch, arms propped up on his knees, “I keep having the same nightmares over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore”

“You don’t-” you took a deep breath, “You don’t want me to erase your mind, do you?”

The look in his eyes proved that that was exactly what he wanted. And the unshed tears that coated the otherwise pure and radiant blue of his eyes was almost enough to convince you.

“Please-” he begged, “I-”

“No, Buck” you shook your head and shuffled to face him properly, “As time passes, it’s only gonna get worse. The past will eventually catch up to you. You’ll want to know what you did”

He didn’t have it in him to fight you, so silence settled for a while. “You know sedatives don’t work on me?”

“I… never thought about it, but that makes sense”

Bucky gathered his lips into a tight line and nodded his head.

“Lady shrink isn’t of any help?” you asked.

“I have no clue what she’s doing” he shrugged, “Maybe it’s good in the long run, but fuck if I know how she expects me to make any kind of progress right now”

“You are, tho” you reassured him, “Making progress I mean”

“Am I?” Bucky laughed incredulously.

“Yes! You’re almost completely on your own feet. You really pushed through”

“Or maybe I’m just ignoring all of my problems”

“You just told me about them” you chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulders.

Hesitatingly at first, he eventually leaned in into your hold, allowing himself to completely fall against your chest. “I hate this”

“I think that’s a given” you laughed, curling your fingers around the roots of his way too short hair. “A wise man once said that whenever someone acts like they have their shit together, they’re either lying or delusional”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know” you confessed, “I saw that on the internet”

For the first time that night, you actually heard him laugh, and it sounded so good - it was short and weak, but it was sweet and honest. “That’s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it” Bucky said as he pushed himself up.

“I wish I could do more” you mumbled, “But I don’t know what, or how, but-”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that” you smiled.

He didn’t know that. He’d never stop thanking you for even the smallest gestures. The day where Bucky would understand that kindness, in some cases, is a given, was far away, but you had the patience and determination to work for it.

As you talked and talked, and the topic of conversation kept shifting from one area to the other, the sun set, night settling outside his small windows. It was time for you to leave, and you would’ve done it, had he asked you not to at the last second.

You had your shoes on and one hand on the door handle, when he stumbled over his words, obviously too shy to properly hold his ground. “Actually can you- can you-” he mumbled, pointing to his couch, “Can you stay here tonight?”

And of course you did. The night didn’t last much longer after that, with Bucky settling on the floor, only a blanket to keep him company, and you sprawled out on the couch as silence settled.

But your mind was too busy to drift off. You knew his’ was too, but decided to refrain from speaking up, hoping to let him fall asleep, even for a short while.

It was loud inside your head. You always promised yourself you’d never intrude on someone’s thoughts and read through them without their approval, but you physically felt Bucky radiate energy, and your mind just slipped. But then, your heart almost stopped.

You saw yourself. You saw yourself slapping him back in Wakanda when he decided to go under ice again, you saw yourself moving a car out of his way back in Bucharest, when you risked your life for his because you trusted Steve that much, and because you were that good of a friend. You saw yourself at Tony’s funeral, eyes shiny with tears and then felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hug yourself - and then realised it wasn’t your urge, it was Bucky’s. At this point, your heart beat so fast you were actually afraid he’d hear it. But when goosebumps appeared all over your skin, you realised he couldn’t hear you, that he was asleep and that the nightmares started materializing.

What convinced you to act on it was the sudden jerk of his body and the way to fully tensed instantly after. So, unable to just sit and watch, you rolled over to the side and allowed your hand to fall by his temple, little specks of light rolling off the tips of your fingers as you forced the thoughts away. Seconds later, you saw him relax and shift around, gathering the blanket he laid on to his chest as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

His relaxed form and the steady pace of his breathing put a smile on your face. But you made the mistake of thinking this was a one time thing, however, before you realised, you found yourself leaning over him again, ushering yet another wave of nightmares away. And it kept being an ongoing process until the sun rose, and you cursed yourself as you did not get one second of shut eye. But it was worth it. The sight of him finally resting, knowing he spent his night in his happy place that you this time did not intrude on, made up for your tiredness.

When Bucky drifted out of his deep sleep, you figured it was safe to relax too. But knowing that if you went to sleep right now you wouldn’t wake up until noon, you stood up, determined to give him the full best friend experience.

But all you found in his kitchen was a box of stale cereal, a soft cucumber and candy wrappers. Had he not looked so adorable sleeping shirtless and curled into a ball on the floor, you would have woken him up yelling. But instead, you decided to order some food, and the simple fact that the sound of the delivery guy ringing the doorbell didn’t wake him up, actually terrified you. With a life like yours, no one sleeps that deeply, but then there he was, snoring away the late hours of the morning.

By the time he finally stirred awake, the food was already cold, and you were bored out of your mind. “What- what time is it?” he mumbled, voice rich with sleep.

“A little bit past 2” you yawned from your spot on the couch.

“2 pm?” Bucky huffed, sitting up in a hurry and rushing to grab his phone. “What the-” he turned to you confused, “It’s 2pm…”

“Yeah” you sighed, “And the food is cold”

“Food?” Bucky gawked, looking over at the small table by the window, “You got food?”

“You didn’t have any” you defended yourself. You wanted to scold him for not taking better care of himself, but he looked so homey and cozy and vulnerable, that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Eventually, you stood up and walked over to him. “I’ll let you eat, Buck, but I gotta go” you sighed, giving him a hug, “Got some stuff to do” you lied, by stuff meaning sleep, since you were exhausted.

“Yeah, of course” he mumbled in agreement, wrapping his arms around your frame, and bringing you closer. He sank his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to his chest for a moment longer than you would have considered friendly. But you didn’t complain, his hold was stern and loving, and you really needed that right now. “Thank you” Bucky added when he finally let you go. His right palm cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, awe and admiration in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank me for, Buck” you smiled, and then pulled away.

He silently watched you get ready to leave, following you around until you reached the door and turned around to say goodbye. And it was weird. Your heart boomed against your ribcage, and you didn’t have to read his thoughts to know he was feeling the same kind of nervous. And it may have been the one too many stories you read but you actually feared something was going to happen. Thankfully, it didn’t. Instead you shared another hug, and parted ways.

However, all you managed to do was reach the staircase before you heard his door open, followed by the sound of his bare feet sprinting down the hallway. “What are you-”

“Can you stay?” he asked, shaking from head to toe, “In New York I mean, can you please stay? Just a few more days”

“Well, I- yeah, I guess I can” you mumbled.

“I just, I need a few more days. You’re screwing my head back on, I just need you now. Steve is gone, and Sam is all the way in Louisiana and I hate phones and I-”

“Wow-” you laughed, “I’m not even the second choice, I’m the third?”

“Shut up, Y/n” Bucky frowned, “Stop being a smartass for a second”

“I’m sorry” you rolled your eyes, but he didn’t care.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky threw his arms around your shoulders and hugged you close, and you weren’t sure if the ‘I love you’ that echoed inside your mind had actually been spoken or just thought, but it was everything you never knew you needed.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

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if i can send another request: uh how about reader is a helper in marcus moreno's house and she thinks her feelings are unrequited bc she helps marcus get ready to go on a date. And then she has to look over missy while hes on the date and missy is like: u like him right. And reader is like: no way thats unprofessional. And missy looks at her like really? And finally reader caves and says yeah i like you. And at the very end marcus ends up confessing he does like reader and it ends happy? 😭😭

I love 1 (one) crime fighting hero/tired dad. This got real soft, enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader; warnings: slight language

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Thanks for doing this," Marcus' voice is soft as he calls to you from his bedroom. You remind yourself of the current situation and plaster on the best smile you could muster up. But you weren't fooling yourself - or Missy for that matter. She rolled her eyes as she passed by and headed to the kitchen table to start homework; she had a lot to say but it could wait for now.

"Its no problem, Marcus," you promised through slightly gritted teeth as you reminded yourself that you had no reason to be jealous - no reason to have feelings other than friendly for your closest friend.

"C-can you help me real quick?" there was an almost nervous quality to his voice as you made a small sound of confirmation before pushing open the door to his bedroom. Your jaw almost dropped sight; Marcus was standing in front of his mirror, looking more handsome than anyone should have legally been allowed to.

Opting to stick with his love of black on black, he was sporting a pair of well fitting black trousers and a black button that displayed the muscles of his back whenever he moved. You barely caught yourself when you realized he was holding two ties in his hand and displayed them to you.

Flitting over to him, you took both options and shook your head, tossing them into the bed. He didn't say anything but raised a brow in amusement, "no tie. Just what you have on is fine. The black on black is an excellent choice."

"Yeah?" he asked as a nervous smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, "its not too...depressing?"

"Not at all, its very se- you look good Marcus," you promised him as he let out a nervous huff of laughter, "she's going a lucky lady, and she's going to love you."

"Hmm," he mused for a moment, turning his gaze to you in the mirror and trying to read your expression. You quickly dropped your eyes, not sure if you were quite ready to cross that bridge just yet - or ever. His hands went to the top buttons and he quickly undid a few, exposing the smallest amounts of golden skin, "listen, I-"

"I should go and help Missy with her homework," you quickly cut him off before anything else could happen or heavens forbid you confessed your undying love then and there, "and you finish getting ready, mister!"

Before anything else could be said, you darted out of his room and towards the kitchen where Missy was pretending to be engrossed in a book. You knew she was keen on getting as much information as possible and had not doubt been trying to listen in. She closed her book as you took a seat next to her and offered her a small smile.

"How does pizza sound for dinner? We can even go crazy and get ice cream for dessert," you suggested and despite her attempt at a serious look her eyes lit up with excitement as she nodded, "don't worry, we won't tell your dad. It'll be our secret."

"Alright ladies," Marcus came out of the bedroom now sporting that damned leather jacket that made you weak in the knees on top of it all. It was the glasses, perched smartly on his nose that set you off though. How could one man look so good? Practically unfair. Missy nudged your leg to snap out of your little daydream as you caught yourself, "I'm headed off. I won't be back too late. Missy, I want all your homework done and bed at a reasonable hour."

"Fine dad," she groaned as she pulled her folder out of her background with the day's homework.

"And you," he turn his attention back to you as you felt a flush of warmth wash over your face, "are an absolute angel. I don't know what I'd do without you. I owe you big time."

"Don't worry about a thing," you insisted as you motioned your head towards the door, "now go and have fun, Marcus. You deserve it."

"Thanks," there was that stupid, silly, soft smile on his face again, "see you tonight."

With a small wave, he was off on his date. There was a soft tugging on your heart and the back of your eyes burned ever so slightly. You took a breath to collect yourself and decided to ignore it all. It didn't matter anyways, Marcus was going on a date with not you, and whoever she was, she would undoubtedly fall in love with him. It was Marcus Moreno, after all, who wouldn't fall in love?

Missy watched you silently for a few moments before deciding not to bring anything up...not just yet anyway.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You should tell him you know,” Missy said through a mouthful of ice cream - chocolate chip cookie dough with lots of brownie and fudge, her all time favorite. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you tried to figure out what she could possibly mean. Your stomach churned at the realization, “my dad - you should tell him you like him.”

“W-why would I do that?” you stammered nervously as you tried to keep your face neutral. Missy groaned at your vain attempt as it become very obvious that the young girl knew exactly how you felt, “Missy, I can’t do that. He doesn’t...he couldn’t possibly ever feel the same way.”

“Why not?” she asked as she possibly off her bowl before setting down on the coffee back and pausing the movie you’d been watching, “you and dad both like each other! You might as well tell each other and get it over with. Besides, you’re a million times better than whatever her name is that he’s on a date with.”

“How could you possibly know that?” you laughed lightly at her fervent insistence, the words that he liked you too not lost on you at all.

“Because she’s not you,” she insisted, “and dad really likes you. He’s just...too awkward sometimes. I know he just doesn’t want to mess anything up. But I’m telling you, you both need to stop being fools and tell each other you’re in love!”

“Alright, little Missy,” you groaned lightly as she smiled triumphantly - she had you hook, line, and sinker, “time for bed, it’s late anyways. Go brush your teeth and get changed. I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

“Fine,” she sighed heavily, a trait definitely inherited from Marcus, “but you know I’m right! Tell him!”

You were about to make a smart retort as you watched her giggling form disappear up the stairs but decided against. Apparently all the times you thought you were subtle about your affections towards Marcus, you were being anything but.

Shit, shit, shit. Hopefully he’d never noticed. He was a Heroic, you reminded yourself, of course he knew. But he’d never said anything, never treated you oddly...maybe he didn’t know after all. Maybe this was one of the things he was blind to. Yeah...that was surely it. Besides, why would someone like him ever like you? You were just you and he was...everything.

You’d been so lost in your conversation with Missy and now your own thoughts that you’d had heard the front door open and close. You hadn’t noticed as Marcus slowly made his way into the kitchen and overheard everything. But Missy did - she was his daughter after all, and her little scheme played out exactly out she had planned.

Sighing, you stood up and stretched, still unawares of the eyes glued to you. Marcus smiled at the little sound you made, his own heart thumping nervously as he realized what he needed to do. His date had ended early - his decision -and it hadn’t been particularly fun. His date had been nice, pretty, kind, but at the end of it all, she wasn’t you. That’s what he had wanted. Enough with the skirting around the issue - he was finally going to tell you how he felt.

Scooping the dirty bowls up, you tried to figure out just how you were going to tell Marcus about your feelings. Missy wouldn’t drop it, you knew she wouldn’t. You could just get straight out with it - direct and to the point and lay all the cards on the table.

Or was that too direct? Should you hint some more; although that hadn’t gotten you very far either....fuck. Nope you were just going to have to do it once and for all.

“Marcus - I’m in love with you,” you tested the words out to yourself to see how they would sound. Your voice was a small, soft thing, but you couldn’t deny that you liked how they sounded. Deciding that it would just take some practice to get yourself ready to say the words to him, you repeated the words, “I love you, I love you, I love you. Marcus Moreno - I am in love with you.”

As you flipped on the kitchen light, you let out a small scream and almost dropped the bowls in your hands as you finally spotted Marcus. He was quick to your side and took the bowls from you, setting them back on the counter and offering you a sheepish, but soft expression. Nothing but horror washed over you as quickly came to the conclusion that he must have heard everything single thing you’d said.

“M-Marcus,” you fumbled over your words as he watched you with a soft expression, “I-I-I didn’t hear you come in, didn’t know you were back. I was just umm...playing around. Missy, she umm, I didn’t...ughh...Oh...this is...I didn’t mean it?”

“I got back a little bit ago,” he confessed as you hid your face in his hands; yeah, he’d heard everything, “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Listen, Marcus, I didn’t mean it, it’s just...Missy thinks that we’re in love or something, and I was just messing around...” it might have been the weakest lie you’d ever told and the look on his face said that he didn’t believe a word of it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think...he was happy, “wait - you’re back? I didn’t expect you for another hour or so.”

“Left earlier than expected,” he admitted as he tried to still the wild beating of his own heart. He took a step closer and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to not completely lose the remaining grips on reality you had, “wasn’t quite feeling it.”

“Oh?” you asked softly as he shrugged lightly, “w-what happened?”

“She wasn’t you,” he echoed Missy’s words from earlier as an involuntary smile crossed your features. Holy shit - was this actually happening? No, no, no, this must be all a dream, “I should have asked you to dinner. A long time ago actually. I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess Missy’s right, I’m just an awkward uncool dad.”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself as he laughed lightly and nodded, “why on earth would you ask me?”

“Why would I...I thought it was kind of obvious by now?” he tilted his head to the side as you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, “I mean, Missy pretty much spilled the beans...”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you looked at him nervously, still refusing to believe that this was actually happening, “you like me? Me?”

Then he whispered your name, so softly, so reverently, so gently before reaching over and putting his hand gently on your cheek, “I’m in love with you.”

“Me,” you didn’t bother to try and hide your smile as he nodded, “I....yeah. Me too. Obviously. She’d been pushing me to tell you, but I didn’t want to...”

“Mess anything up?” he finished for you as you nodded, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in, “me neither.”

“Sooo...” you trailed off and flicked your eyes back his, admiring the way the soft brown orbs stared back into your, crinkling in the corners as his dimple was on display, “ummm...I should...I should go since you’re back.”

“Is that really what you want?” he teased as you shook your head before laughing, “do you know what I want?”

“Ummm.... no?”

“I really, kind of want to kiss you,” he admitted as your heart blossomed with joy at his gentle words, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip lightly, “I want that too.”

And then it happened, easily, fluidly, almost like you’d both been doing it forever. His hands found your waist as you tugged you close, your arms snaking around his neck as you leaned up to meet his kiss, His lips were plush and soft, and even better than you could ever have dreamed. It wasn’t some rough and brash tangle of teeth, with either of you fighting for dominance; no, this was slow and easy, intimate to its core and filled with nothing but longing and desire.

This was exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“It’s about time,” the two of you slowly pulled apart at the sound of her voice as you tried to find Missy peeking at the two of you from the foot of the stairs, “I told you both!”

Before either of you could say anything else, she darted upstairs and back to her bedroom, slamming the two shut as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He chased your lips with his own, giving you a few more soft pecks before you grinned at each other like fools in love which, you supposed, you were.

“She’s too smart for her own good sometimes,” he sighed lightly as you touched his cheek, “but I’ll let this one slide.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh honey,” he whispered before kissing you again - it was already something he never wanted to stop doing now that he’d had a taste, “what were you saying about having to leave?”

“I don’t remember,” you teased with a kiss to his cheek.

“Stay?” he asked softly; it was a question that held a lot more meaning than just one night, or something temporary. You both knew exactly what it meant.

“Yes,” you promised, “I’ll stay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Note

May I please request number 12. Bite Marks and number 14. Carving for Nagito Komaeda? thank you so much :)

Will do! Thank you for requesting ^-^ I will give you some submissive yandere and trickster darling today. Tomorrow? Who knows. I will say, I’d rate it mature, but nothing really happens.

Bite marks - “You.. love me right.. not them? Oh god please say you love me..!!”

Carving - “Please! You can use me all you like don’t leave me!”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

“I love you.”

The clanking of the food tray crashing to the ground was your smallest concern at that moment. You kept your eyes pinned to the ceiling, not acknowledging Nagito’s shock in favor of maintaining the surprise as nonchalant as possible. It wasn’t the time to give him satisfaction; it was merely time to make him fret a little.

“But Hajime... I’m not sure. I keep thinking about him. Wondering what he’s been up to since I left. Maybe that’s love too?”

The gulp he did was audible, as you mentioned his former friend. You had never tried before or even thought that it might affect Nagito to talk about your feelings, rather than the feelings you had towards him after he kidnapped and strapped you to a bed. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he wanted to say something, but aside from small croaks, nothing escaped from his vocals.

Ignoring the fallen tray, he walked back to your bed, standing beside you like the creep he was. Nagito staring down at you wasn’t a comfortable ordeal, and you never knew what he thought as he watched you quietly. Sadly, this had become too much of a norm to bother you anymore. Did he figure out you were pulling at his heartstrings with well-placed words and doubts? Would Nagito see through your lies?

Sinking to his knees, he leaned on the mattress, peering at you sharply. But him fidgeting gave away that he tried to play it cool while, really, he was just his usual self - a mess. Intrigued, needy, and most importantly, desperate for any acknowledgment from you.

“[Name], say it again,” he asked timidly, but he couldn’t hide the desire cracking in his voice.

“Do you think it’s possible? Loving two people?” you continued, undeterred by Nagito’s need.

Immediately, a hand snapped forward, moderating itself before it laid down on the cheek furthest away from him, pushing to have you turn your head. Finally, you looked at him. Immediately, you found the disgusting satisfaction he felt from receiving your gaze on him, plastered all over his face. “Say you love me again,” Nagito urged. You were disgusted by his touch, his thumb caressing your cheek so very affectionately, but you would take it if it helped fulfill your plan.

“But I’m not sure, maybe I love Hajime--”

“No, no, no!” he yelled suddenly. Before long, both hands were cupping your face in them while his legs climbed over you. “You said you love me! You love me! Me!” One moment, Nagito seemed pained by you speaking another man’s name, his hands shaking and eyes wildly searching for clues that would confirm him. But now that your mouth kept quiet, you saw a familiar yet strange sense of despair crawling into his expression.

“You.. love me, right... not him? Oh god, please say you love me!”

Nagito took a deep breath, and you knew that he’d begin to talk like a waterfall now, almost unstoppable. If you weren’t talking to him, he’d monologue as long as needed to calm himself and some more, getting himself off the desperation and desire he felt. But not this time, not when you wouldn’t let him.

“I love you,” you stated as a matter of fact. It wasn’t supposed to sound happy, nor outright like sarcasm, you had to declare it as if it was no big deal or Nagito would see through your charade.

“Ah,” he sighed, lips curling into a smile while his face flushed red. “You do love me,” he muttered, his expression gradually becoming more distorted from happiness. “You love me, too! Finally! I loved you all this time. Every second since we met, I loved you. I love you! You love me!”

Nothing you could have done against him leaning down, lifting your head as much as your restraints allowed, kissing you. He did it before, and as always, it was a sloppy, needy kiss, just this time, you moved your lips ever so slightly to reciprocating it. Spurred on by your actions, Nagito deepened it, moans shuddering over his lips while he kept demanding more and more. Disgusted, you gave it to him, let him have it. Waited for him to pull away first to take a breather.

He had closed his eyes for the kiss, but when he opened them again, you immediately caught them with yours. Panting against your lips, when he approached again, you denied him the kiss ever so slightly, causing him to whine softly. He had no reason to stop but perhaps, not wanting to be hated again, did it for him.

“Untie me,” you whispered seductively, pressing your lips to his briefly before pulling away, watching as he leaned in for more. “Let me love you, Nagito.”

There was so much fighting with himself, all of it showing in his expression. However, the part of him that didn’t think it was a good idea to free you slowly but surely lost to the one that wanted so desperately to be loved by you. Wholly and fully, and hopefully with remaining marks as to always remember.

This time when he leaned in for a kiss, you let him, pleased him by returning the affection. It was the test to see if you genuinely were devoted, some part of his mind careful of not being scammed by you. But with you two eagerly exchanging your breaths, his doubts melted away until he finally pulled his hands from your face to reach above you two, fiddling with the ropes around your wrists.

The tugs and pulls hurt, but it was nothing compared to the racing of your heart, the knowledge this was working. He really was freeing you. He really was doing it! You felt your hand collapse onto the bed the moment the rope stopped holding it in place. The wound was throbbing, but you only strained your neck to kiss him more, packed with excitement and urging him on. His hesitation before untying the second rope disappeared, and he began to loosen it even quicker.

“[Name]... [Name]!” he kept calling out to you as if you’d disappear if he didn’t speak up. You soothed his anxiety with your presence, allowing your bodies to warm each other, used all your strength to move your arm at least forward again. Nagito sunk into your palm even though you couldn’t use it properly.

Like a child into the affection of a parent, he was so damn naive.

It was just a matter of time now. You did it carefully, using him and his desire to be touched and caressed by you to train your hands, do what had to be done. Even if it meant you had Nagito rub all over you, impatiently waiting for more of your love and affection, you knew it would at least keep him unaware and well-disposed to the biggest part of your plan.

Finally, you managed to use your arms again. They still hurt and strained upon moving, but you took that in exchange for your freedom. Hugging Nagito, you fogged his mind with another deep kiss, pressing your body against him until he caved away, the position changing quickly. Now on top of him, you giggled and played along, pushing his arms back over his head and driving your hands over them promisingly.

“Let me tie you up, alright? I want to be the one giving you all the love. You don’t need to do even a single thing.”

Nagito froze, having the same kind of fight with himself that he had before untying you, but you simply cozied up to him, kissed from his temples to his chin. “Pretty please? Let me make it up to you and show you my love,” you purred, feeling absolutely disgusted by the pleading implications in your words. But whatever needed to be done, you were willing to do.

“O-Okay,” he finally agreed, shivering lightly while you grinned. “You’re such a good boy,” you praised him as you slowly but surely wrapped the rope around his wrists. “I love you, [Name],” he whimpered, trying to hide the pain he felt as you pulled the ropes skin-tight. “I know,” you pressed out from between your teeth. “I fucking know.”

Leaning back after securing the triple knot, you let your head fall into your neck, looking up at the ceiling one last time. You had seen it so much the last few days, counted all the holes in it and spiders crawling over it. But no longer. And you didn’t care if Nagito would have to rot down here for all eternity either. “What a shit hole,” you complained, inelegantly climbing off him and onto your feet.

Immediately dizziness hit you as you stood straight up again, but this would be the last thing stopping you now. Your legs seemed to have trouble keeping you on top of them, but holding on to chairs standing around and the walls did the trick, leading you towards the door. “[Name]? Where are you going?” Nagito called after you. “Hey! Don’t leave me--”

“Shut up, Nagito. It’s over,” you hissed back over your shoulder. “I am getting out of here! I am not staying even one second longer!”

“No... wait!”

The cold, iron door felt heavenly against your irritated skin. It felt like happiness and freedom, and you were so thankful for reaching it after everything you went through. By now, Nagito couldn’t see you anymore, but you heard him frantically tearing on the ropes. Luckily, they were solid and reliable, even after all the strain you had applied to them.

“Please! You can use me all you like, but don’t leave me!” Nagito screamed after you, and you could hear his voice cracking. He must have been crying, but you were the last one to feel pity for him. Instead, you pushed down the door handle, not wanting to spend one more second in this depressing room. You were so close, only one step away from it.

But the door didn’t open.

Rattling it, you kept pushing and pulling at it, growing more and more frustrated every time it didn’t move. You knew it could open. You had heard it work for Nagito more than once!

Nagito.

Glaring back, it was quiet in the room. He should have been bawling his eyes out by now, screamed, and begged. And yet, nothing echoed around you; only the small sounds of a chuckle reached your ears.

Furious, you stomped back to him, pushing aside everything that was in the way. “Where’s the key!” you screamed, repeating the question with every step. “Where’s the fucking key!”

When you reached him, all that remained on his face was something akin to a pitying smile, eyes that were no less condescending than yours were. “Oh, Darling,” he muttered. “There never was a key. We are in a bunker, underground, buried. The only way to get out of here now...”

Nagito paused, taking a deep breath, his smile only growing while you felt your heart drop and your last nerves popping. “Ah, beautiful,” he whispered, looking at you, knowing one thing for sure.

“How do I get out,” you asked him, trying to remain calm.

“It’s despairing, isn’t it?” Nagito replied undeterred, playing your very own game.

It was.

“You’re feeling absolute despair, now that you realize you are stuck here with me. And if I die, you won’t ever find out how to leave. Isn’t it truly beautiful? I am so lucky to be stuck with you now; even dying from your negligence won’t bother me, you know?”

“How. Do I. Get out,” you repeated your question, your voice shivering from anger.

“Ah, maybe I will remember,” he teased you. “But only if you give me the love you promised me. Pretty please? I know I am insatiable, but if you really want to know...”

Feeling your whole world crumble to ashes around you, you knew he would never tell you. If it even was true that you weren’t just in a storage depot or bunker- and you’d make sure by destroying this whole place in search of a key - you needed him to guide you to get out from the underground he described. Needed to do what he wanted you. Needed to love him.

And you wondered if right from the beginning, he had known what you planned to do and decided to play the puppet caught in your strings.

Little had you expected Nagito to be the puppeteer all along.

[You can find the prompt list here]

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whimsicallyreading · 3 years ago

Text

For Day 29 of Rowaelin Month

“A song fic-“

The song- “Always Been You” by Quinn XCII

CW- Mentions of miscarriage and divorce

"I can't believe you right now."

Rowan looks at his wife in frustration. She's sitting at the end of their bed, staring listlessly at the wall. The skirt of the red dress she's wearing is wrinkled, and his heart aches when he notices the mascara marks on her cheeks.

"Aelin," Rowan tries again to reach for her, but she leans away from his grasp.

"No, Rowan. I'm done."

Rowan takes a long swing from the beer in front of him. The time on his phone alerts him that he's spent most of the evening sulking at his bar.

The guys had invited him to dinner, but Rowan hadn't felt like going in light of his current situation. Instead, choosing to meander to the shady little pub they'd passed by coming from the airport.

His lawyer had sent him numerous emails. Documents to sign, agreements to approve, and papers he needed to read through before sending them to the judge.

Divorce was a pain, and Aelin wasn't making it easy.

"Hey, bud. I thought I might find you here." Fenrys slides onto the barstool next to his.

Rowan sighs and rubs the lines forming on his forehead. "Well, I thought it was obvious I didn't want company."

"Too bad. Drinking alone isn't a good look on you." Fenrys raises a hand and motions for another round of beers. "How are things going with ya know?"

"Shitty. She's never paid a dime of rent on that apartment, but she wants the lease signed into her name and for me to front the first four months of rent." Rowan cracks a peanut between his finger. He has no intent to eat the growing pile in front of him. He just craved the satisfaction of breaking something.

"Well, have you talked to her about that?" Fenrys frowns in sympathy, knowing how equally attached both parties were to the little rental.

Rowan laughs mirthlessly. "No, she said that it was better if our conversations were mediated. I always knew Aelin was catty, but she's acting like such a-"

"Don't." Fenrys gives Rowan a severe look. "I know you are upset, but don't start saying shit you'll regret."

Rowan pauses and reluctantly nods his agreement. It's the alcohol talking. He knew the problems that had festered his marriage were predominantly his responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, but a heaviness seems to keep the air from reaching his lungs fully. The weight was slowly becoming too familiar, starting the day Aelin had presented him with the papers.

Rowan wishes he'd done more. Wishes he'd paid more attention and seen the signs of Aelin's unhappiness.

The day Aelin had broken down in their bedroom had been a cold wake-up call but by then? It was already too late.

"You missed our anniversary Rowan." Aelin shouts and pulls her heels off angrily.

Rowan picks up a shoe and tries to hand it back to her. "I know. I'm sorry. It's not too late, though. We can still go out? There's still time to salvage-"

Aelin turns away from him and seems to fold in on herself. Rowan wants to reach out. He wants to hold her, but something dark is building in the air.

"I don't want your leftovers, Rowan," Aelin whispers. "That's all I get anymore—your leftover time. Your leftover attention. Whatever leftover resentment you bring home from work."

"Aelin-" he tries to cut off her depressive spiral, but she's not finished.

"You used to call me during the day." Aelin's voice cracks, and he realizes she's crying. "Every day, you would call me on your break. Now you don't even call when you leave town."

"Baby, just listen to me." He puts his hands on her shoulders, but Aelin breaks his grasp to turn around and look at him.

"Is there someone else?" Her eyes are wide and vulnerable. So unlike his regular Aelin."

"What?" His brain is struggling even to formulate a reply. Rowan's lack of response only causes Aelin to worry more.

Something in her cracks. There's a quiver to her lips, and her face drains of color. "Oh. Oh no."

"Aelin. I swear there is no one else." Rowan finally says, but it's too late.

"Is," Aelin presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Is it because I lost the baby?" She sucks in a hiccupping breath. "You've always wanted kids. So did I, but my fucking body doesn't work."

Aelin closes her eyes, and Rowan knows she's speaking more to herself than him, but her words gut him just the same. "My body doesn't work right. I keep giving us false hopes and wasting money on pregnancy tests. Of course, you would look for a woman who can give you what you want."

He's surprised by the sudden flare of anger in him. "Don't put words in my mouth. That will never be your fault."

They'd known right from the start their journey to parenthood would be a long one. Aelin had a family history of complicated fertility. It had seemed so trivial when they got married. Yet even knowing there could be issues, nothing quite prepared them for the pain of a miscarriage.

Aelin sniffles, unable to force back her grief, "But you resent me. Don't you?"

Rowan doesn't reply.

"It's rough," Rowan admits out loud. "I let a lot get left unsaid. I was hurt and pushed her away. Now she won't even speak to me without a lawyer present."

Fenrys nods, "It's all probably for the best. Once this is over, you guys can put this drama behind you."

"I wish it were that easy," Rowan knocks back the rest of his beer. He grimaces at the drink. It's not taking hold quickly enough.

Fenrys raises an eyebrow. "You both will be able to shut the book on this chapter of your lives and move on? Considering how bloody you two have been fighting, it sounds ideal."

They sit in silence. Fenrys takes the peanut basket away from Rowan and picks at the shells. The bartender comes by, and disgruntledly eyes Rowan's pile of crumbs as he orders a whiskey neat.

Fen was like his little brother, but Rowan found it hard to admit his real problem to him aloud. "I still love her."

The basket goes flying over the side of the counter, and Fenrys chokes on his beer. "What?"

Rowan can't look him in the eye, "We lost a baby. It was early. Aelin didn't want to tell everyone. Three years we tried to get pregnant, and finally, a test comes back positive. She was so happy."

"Shit," Fenrys says quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It was there, and then it was gone. I thought Aelin was fine. She cried for a week, but then it was like a switch flipped, and she was back to normal." Rowan clenches a napkin in his fist. "I was devastated. It hurt like hell, but I didn't want to send her back into a depression." Rowan shakes his head at how stupid he'd been. "So I put some distance between us. I didn't want her to think I was upset with her."

"I didn't feel better," Rowan sips the whiskey, relishing the warmth. "It made me mad that she got over it so quickly, and I couldn't. I didn't realize that I was growing that space between us. I didn't understand how much guilt she harbored and that she tried to be strong for me. Not until she broke."

"We fought. I said all the wrong things. Aelin couldn't take it anymore, she left, and I didn't stop her." Rowan leans his head on his hands and elbows against the counter. "She's the love of my life, and I watched her walk out the door."

Fenrys sucks in a breath and sighs. "You are my best friend, and I mean this in the most loving way possible. Why the hell are you here?"

"What?" Rowan looks at Fenrys annoyed face.

"Get out of here. Go. I'll tell the boss you have ebola or some shit." Fenrys fishes his wallet out and throws cash on the bar. "I'll even cover the tab. Just leave. Now."

"What? I don't understand?"

Fenrys looks at Rowan like he's stupid. "No offense, but you are about as interesting as a brick wall. The fact you caught a girl like Aelin is astonishing. If you love her, are you honestly going to let her go on being miserable?"

"She's not miserable," Rowan scoffs.

Fenrys laughs bitterly. "You forget I'm pals with Aedion too? Aelin winds up at his house almost every evening crying her eyes out. You two are still hopelessly in love. You're just dumb and badly in need of a good conversation."

"Aelin is upset?" A sense of disbelief washes over him.

"Yes! She misses you, but she's under the impression you are off sleeping around." His face saddens. "I told Aedion you weren't. He knows I go on all of these trips with you. Aelin's just upset you're gone and needs to believe in something that can help her let go."

Rowan stands up, swaying. "I have to go."

"Hell yeah, you do. Give Aelin my love," Fenrys waves as Rowan vates the bar like a hawk out of hell.

Aelin sets the stack of papers in front of him.

Rowan had been camping out in his office ever since there disaster of an anniversary. He'd texted a few times, but every time they talked, it was like relighting a fuze. Things weren't getting better.

"What are these?" Rowan asks without looking up from his screen.

"Your ticket to freedom," Aelin sits in the chair across from him.

She looks thin, thinner than she did when Arobynn was her foster father. It physically hurts Rowan that he's causing her that kind of stress. Glancing at the papers, she slapped in front of him. His blood becomes like an ice river through his body. "Aelin-"

"I'm not the one for you. That's apparent now. I won't hold you hostage in a marriage that you aren't happy in." Aelin blinks, and a tear slides down her face. He wants to wipe it away, but he's beyond angry. She was giving up on them.

"If this is what you want," Rowan slides the papers towards him and pulls out a pen.

Rowan is racing the familiar paths to their apartment. He doesn't care that it's almost four in the morning. The plane ride between Perranth and Ornyth is mercifully short, but he can't force himself to wait another minute.

"Aelin," he yells through their door. "Baby, answer me. Open the door."

Rowan's fists tap a consistent rhythm on the door, and his heart skips a beat when a bedraggled Aelin finally appears. "Rowan, do you know what time it is?"

She's in a pair of grey flannel pajamas, not one of her usual silky numbers. Aelin's eyes are red around the edges, and her face is still dewy from the excessive amount of lotion he knows she loves to put on. Rowan knows all of her routines. All of her favorite outfits, comfort movies, and best memories. He knows the scar she has on her left hand from an abusive foster father. Rowan remembers how the bridge of her nose wrinkles when she's upset in the same spot her cousin's does.

He knows everything about her, because not only were they husband and wife, they were best friends.

How could he have let that go?

Before Aelin can ask any more questions, Rowan has swept her into his arms. "I missed you so damn much."

"Rowan, have you been drinking?" Aelin asks in a voice cracked with emotion.

His hands are running up her back, and his knows burrows into her hair. He's always loved the smell of her jasmine shampoo. "Fireheart, I never resented you for losing the baby."

"Rowan, I don't want to talk about this," Aelin tries to push him away, but he squeezes her into his chest, and she melts.

That had been his mistake. He should have held Aelik like this and never let her go on pretending to be happy. How could he know everything about this woman and not have seen past her facade? She'd suffered. His own pain had blinded him.

"Aelin, I've made so many mistakes lately." Rowan rubs the back of Aelin's neck the way she likes, and he can feel the sobs starting to build up inside of her. "But the greatest shame of my life is not being there for you when you needed me. I was stupid, Fireheart. I'm not going to be stupid any longer. This separation can't go on, we aren't any happier for it, and I can't live knowing I'm away from the other half of my soul."

Aelin cracks, and he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shoulder. "You were never home. I thought there was someone else, someone who could give you the things you wanted because I can't."

Her whole form is shuddering his arms, and Rowan squeezes tighter as if he can hold her broken pieces together. "It's always been you. I don't care if we adopt or never have any kids at all. All I need is you, baby. You are all I've ever needed."

Suddenly, hands are in Rowan's hair as Aelin crushes their lips together. The kiss is frantic, a relief of the stress they'd carried upon their shoulders.

"I missed you too," Aelin whispers in between kisses. “Gods I mussed you so much.”

The rest of their night is filled with soothing words, frantic kissing, and murmured apologies. Rowan kisses the tears from her cheeks and Aelin looks into his eyes like she’s home. Nail dig into skin as they promise never to be apart again.

For the first time in months they sleep in the same bed. Rowan sinks into a deep restful sleep with his wife in his arms once more. He loves the way her cold toes search out his heat. How Aelin fits so perfectly against his chest. When he wakes up and she’s still there, his heart nearly features from relief.

After months of pain, it's the beginning of their walk towards healing.

The days after aren't perfect. They had legal issues to sort back out, more problems to lay bare to the sunlight. There was arguing, but it lacked actual heat, and they didn't walk away feeling unloved at the end. No longer did they fight to land barbs. Their bickering now served to work towards solutions and to express needs.

Between struggles, the love began to grow back. Rowan kept his job at work, and when he was home, it was about them. He started calling her on his breaks again, and it always astonished him how much he missed the sound of her voice. They both strived to communicate their feelings better and actually listen instead of reacting.

Aelin surprised him with romantic dates, and Rowan read pages of her favorite books to her at night. They danced in the kitchen and laughed at their favorite shows.

Fixing their marriage was hard work, but Rowan and Aelin didn't mind. The separation proved that neither of them wanted a life without the other. It was to whatever end, and they wouldn't accept anything less for them.

On one Sunday morning, Rowan opens his eyes and realizes that Aelin isn't on her side of the bed. Panic surges in him, and he looks around to make sure her things are still there.

They are, and the tension eases from his shoulders until he hears soft crying from the bathroom. Darting out of bed, he grabs Aelin's bathrobe and knocks on their bathroom door. "Aelin, what's wrong?"

Had he screwed something up? Was she sick?

The lock clicks, granting him silent permission for him to come inside. Rowan pushes the door open and finds Aelin crying on the side of the tup. With gentle hands, he wraps her robe around her and throws an arm over her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Aelin looks up at him, a radiant smile on her face. "Look."

Rowan glances down to her clenched fists and-

He blinks, once, twice. Aelin laughs at his dumbfounded face, and it breaks his paralysis. Rowan grabs her around the waist and spins her around the cramped bathroom, the positive pregnancy test clattering to the floor.

Aelin's arms wrap around his neck. The emotion in the room is raw and bittersweet, but there's a hopefulness that can't be denied. Rowan holds her tight as they process the news. When they break apart, the love between them is palpable. They had another shot at this, a fresh start.

Hards times would come and go, but good days were never far behind for them. Because for Aelin and Rowan, it's always been them.

And that's all they needed.

#throne of glass #rowaelin #fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelinmonth #angst #tog #sjmaas #throne of glass fanfiction #song fic #rowan x aelin #fenrys #day 29

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samanthadalton · 3 years ago

Text

Star Crossed Lovers (part 14)

Do my eyes deceive me???? part 14???? we did it. im so sorry its taken forever, i will try my best to be more consistent with my writing. love yall for being patient with me it means the most. thank you, thank you.

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

warnings: angst, swearing (lots of it)

taglist: @drmmyrs @cloud9in @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @fall3ngods @helpconfusedpersonhere @clowneryme @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @vonda-b-real @uselesslesbianfr @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings @somethindarker (sorry again if ive missed anyone, if you wanna be added on this taglist or my general one just let me know 😊)

word count: 4k (i feel like its short considering how long it took me to write but i still hope you guys enjoy) (also i didnt check for grammatical errors properly so sorry if you find any)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

The first steps to moving on

“Bea please,” Poppy whispers, a repentant look creeping up to her face as she looks away from her girlfriend. “It can’t wait.”

Bea sighs, her shoulders slumping as the last remains of her anger disseminates from her body. “Okay fine, lead the way babe.”

Poppy stiffens that the pet name but she doesn’t let her awkwardness slip as she leads Bea to a secluded classroom, far away from prying eyes. Both her and Bea turn to look at each other, and both simultaneously open their mouths to talk.

“I know you wanted to tell-”

“We need to talk-”

Both clamp their lips shut, a mutual smile playing on their lips as they look at one another.

“You go first,” Poppy gestures towards Bea, as she moves to sit on the edge of a desk.

Bea inhales softly, her tongue darts out licking her lips as she looks down at the ground, her face calculating. “Why does Chloe hate me?” She looks up to Poppy, her eyes boring into the strawberry blonde’s, sadness swimming inside of them, “I just don’t get what I’ve done for her to hate me.”

Poppy sighs heavily, her eyes awkwardly darting away from Bea’s. “It’s complicated Bea.”

“Complicated?” Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I almost just went off on Chloe after she gave her condolences for my mom dying because I just felt she wasn’t genuine and you wanna tell me it's complicated?”

Poppy sharply inhales, contemplating for a few moments before saying, “it’s because of your mom.”

Bea scrunches her brows up in confusion, “my mom? What the hell does she have to do with this?”

Poppy ineptly plays with her hands, not being able to look Bea in her eyes, “at first it was just a classist thing. When you first came to Belvoire, she just wanted to make herself feel superior over you, but in the last year you’ve noticed her getting more mean right?”

“Right.” Bea stares at Poppy, her expression emotionless.

“Chloe’s parents have been fighting non stop recently, and it’s been affecting her a lot.”

Bea’s brows furrow in confusion, “what does that have to do with me or my mom?”

“Just let me explain first before you react, please.” Bea’s eyes bore into Poppy’s for a few seconds before she nods understandingly. “Her dad cheated on her mom. A lot of times actually. But he was blackmailed by one of the women he slept with.” Poppy pauses for a few seconds, “your mom.”

Bea lets out a shaky breath, her eyes blinking in disbelief, “no, you’re lying.”

Poppy nervously bites her bottom lip, “look Bea-”

“How long have you known?”

Poppy’s face scrunches up in anger, “this isn’t my fault Bea. I only found out that day I went to talk to Chloe about us. Chloe made me promise not to say anything to you-”

“Poppy! My mom OD and I don’t even know why. And now you’re telling me she was blackmailing the St James family and it doesn’t occur to you that might have had something to do with her death?”

“They’re not the fucking mafia Bea, jesus. They were trying to settle it quietly by giving your mom some money and make her sign some stuff so she couldn't threaten them anymore.”

The devastating ramification of Poppy’s admission hangs in the air as the two girls let the words settle into them. “Chloe really is sorry about your mom Bea, we all are.”

Bea sighs, staring off into space, as a few tears begin to fill up in her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.” Bea begins sniffling, but Poppy makes no movement to console her girlfriend. Bea notices and her expression sobers, “so, uh what did you wanna tell me?” Bea sniffs a few more times, before looking up at Poppy, giving her a small encouraging smile.

Poppy looks away, guilt creeping up on her face, as she tries her damndest not to catch Bea’s small smile on her face. “Bea…”. Bea carefully assesses her girlfriend’s demeanour, noticing the similar body language during when they first asked to take a break, she thinks back to the last couple of days, she had barely heard from her girlfriend, and now she’s not affectionate, even after she almost had a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway and her smile drops. “We have to break up,” Poppy says, her tone so monotone and dry as if she didn’t mean the words she was saying at all.

“I don’t understand,” is all Bea can muster, evidently hurt by Poppy’s admission. Poppy winces slightly at Bea’s tone, finally breaking her robotic demeanour as she lets out a few sniffles. “So is that it? We have to break up,” Bea retorts mockingly, “is that all I get after all these years?”

“Bea..” Poppy reaches out but Bea immediately takes a step back, tears flooding in her eyes.

“No,” she holds her hands up, “I don’t get it, things are going good, or at least whatever twisted definition of good we’ve made up. Where the hell did this come from?”

“Bea my dad-”

“Of course! Hayden Min fucking Sinclair had something to do with this. Why do you still live under his shadow? You talk all this shit about breaking out of your father’s prison and wanting to achieve your own goals but he sucks you back in.”

“That’s not fair Bea,” Poppy interjects, balling her hands up into fists in an attempt to subdue her trembling, “my dad has given me so much and he’s threatening to take it all away.”

“Yeah, all you have to do is get rid of me. Me or the Min Sinclair name.”

“Bea this is the life I have, okay I’m not like you, I’m not built like you.”

“So what? I can grow up without a dad and now without a mom but it’s okay because I’m used to pain and disappointment?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, you have a plan, things you can achieve, I need the Min Sinclair name, I’m nothing without it.”

“Wow.” Bea shakes her head, “So I just meant nothing?” Bea wildy throws her arms in the air, anger bubbling under the surface of her demeanour. “We’ve practically been together since we were kids. And you’re just gonna fucking throw that away? And for what? Fuck you Poppy.”

Poppy takes half a step back, dumbfounded by Bea’s outburst. She scrunches her brows, evidently hurt, “you don’t get it Bea. Even though your mom wasn’t the best, she still supported you, even if you didn’t know about it. My dad he- my mom what would she think?”

“Your mom? Poppy what kind of shit is your dad brainwashing you with? Your mom is dead! You have no idea how she would react to having a gay daughter, but I know she’s probably disappointed in you.”

“Fuck you Bea.”Poppy runs out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face, leaving Bea on her own.

“Shit,” Bea whispers to herself before throwing a bunch of punches at the wall, each more cathartic than the last until she can’t physically hold herself up anymore. Bea defeatedly slides into a chair, cradling her head in between her hands, letting the tears free fall, as reality begins setting in that she lost the one thing in the world that was her everything. Poppy Min Sinclair was her rock, the girl who she gave her heart to, the love of her life and just in a matter of moments it was over. Maybe it was too good to be true. The beautiful, perky popular rich girl and the girl who had almost nothing, complete polar opposites, it never should’ve worked. But time and time again when faced against the world they persevered so why was this time different? Poppy had chosen her namesake over the love of her life. She chose the life of glitz and glamour over the girl who gave her her entire heart. Bea feels her entire world crashing down, how much more heartbreak could she take? Was her life always going to be so hard? So full of hurt? Full of pain? She winces at the thought, her head hammering as she comes to the realisation that she understood her mother’s pain more than she thought.

….

Bea hops off her bike, parking it in front of her house, as she pulls her phone out to look at the time. ‘It’s lunch time,’ she thinks to herself. After the day she had today, school wasn’t the best option for her right now. She makes her way to her front door but stops in her tracks when she realises her front door is slightly ajar. Her survival instincts kick in as she effortlessly pulls out her pocket knife, carefully pushing the door fully open. As she steps into the living room, her eyes dart to the closed door of her mother’s room, but when she hears a creaking sound coming towards her bedroom, she cautiously moves towards the source of the noise, the grip on her knife tightening. As she creeps up, she sees the door of her room half opened, a hooded figure standing by her bed with their back facing her.

Bea stealthily sneaks up to the figure placing the knife a few inches from their throat before lowering her voice to a threatening tone, “who are you and what the fuck are you doing?” The figure gasps, dropping a bag that’s in their hands with a deafening thud before raising their hands in a sign of surrender.

“It’s me, it’s me,” the voice whimpers out.

“AJ?” Bea raises her eyebrows, retracting the knife from his throat while pulling down his hood with her other hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” Bea takes a step back while AJ scrambles grabbing the bag he just dropped moments before. When he turns to face Bea, his eyes are wide, filled with fear as he clutches the bag closely to his chest.

“I have to go,” he says as he attempts to run out of the room, but Bea pulls him back, her face crumpled in suspicion.

“No we’re not doing this, give me the bag now,” Bea snatches the bag out of his hands before he can protest and opens the zipper to find it filled with cash. She grits her teeth, anger settling into her features as she whips her head up to AJ, “is this my fucking money?”

“Bea, I- I can explain-”

“What the fuck AJ!” Bea throws the bag onto the bed, the cash spilling out as she jabs an accusing finger at AJ’s chest. “You’re stealing from me now? I haven’t seen you in god knows how long, you don’t call, text nothing. Even after everything that’s been happening in the last few weeks but you have the audacity to fucking steal from me? Money that I’ve spent years saving? Money that I’ve bussed my fucking ass off for, are you serious right now?” Bea’s voice is filled with rage as she’s practically screaming, her voice now thundering. AJ winces, guiltily averting his gaze to the ground, unable to meet Bea’s eyes.

“I’m sorry about your mom Bea, I wanted to visit-” AJ croaks out.

“But you didn’t,” Bea interjects, her voice lowered but filled with hurt. “And now you’re taking money- I mean what is so important you had to steal from me.”

AJ paces towards the bed, hanging his head in shame, when he speaks his voice is quiet, full of fear, “I’m in some bad shit Bea. These guys aren’t playing around.”

“I told you not to fall into the wrong crowd, I warned you this shit would happen.”

“Bea please, I’ll pay you back I just need it.”

“No! What the fuck, when will you pay me back huh? This is my college money, I’m not letting you give that away to your crackhead friends.”

“Bea please,” AJ clasps his hands together, his tone pleading, “I don’t know what to do.”

“AJ I have too much shit on my plate right now, I can’t deal with this. You need to find something else, I can’t help you.”

AJ’s face pales but he stands up, and makes his way towards the door, before leaving he turns to look back at Bea, “I’m sorry about everything.”

Bea keeps her eyes trained on her bed where the money is sprawled all over the mattress, “yeah me too,” she replies quietly. Bea hears the front door close and she collapses to the ground, letting the tears flow.

……

A few days later, Bea sits in her dark living room, curtains shut and lights completely off as she wallows in her sadness, drinking from a bottle of cheap beer, as she stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, so drowned in her thoughts she doesn’t hear the resounding knocks on her door until she hears a voice call out, “Bea! Are you there?”

Bea crumples her brows, forcing herself to stand as she makes her way to the door, she wearily makes her way to her front door only slightly opening the door before poking her head out. “Veronica?” Veronica gives the girl a wide smile before pushing the door more open, ushering the figure behind her into the house too, “Carter? What are you guys doing here?’

Veronica looks around the dark room, noticing the pile of empty beer bottles on the floor, “yikes, drinking on your own on a friday night Hughes? That’s really sad.” Carter stands near the edge of the living room, as if he’s an explorer, his eyes darting all over the living room as he assesses this new environment.

Bea on the other hand scowls at Veronica, “what the hell do you want Veronica, I’m not in the mood.”

Veronica frowns slightly, pouting her lips together, “we heard about you and Poppy.”

Bea rolls her eyes, “yeah well I’m trying to forget about her.” Bea picks up her beer bottle from the ground and makes a show by exaggeratingly drinking from the bottle until it's empty. She discards the empty bottle along with the other ones before turning to look at Veronica and Carter, “so if you’ll excuse me.”

Veronica steps towards Bea, wrapping her hand around the brunette’s arm, “we’re not here for Poppy stupid, we’re here for you.”

Bea raises an eyebrow, “for me?”

Veronica turns to look at Carter, beckoning him forward, Carter breaks out of reverie and clears his throat, “yeah uh, we wanted to take you to a party.”

“A party?” Bea looks between them confused, “I’m not that interested guys.”

“Wait, wait, wait Bea,” Veronica pleads, pulling Bea closer to her, “you’ve never been to a Belvoire party and the year is almost over, we thought we should take you to at least.”

“I don’t know guys,” Bea says skeptically, “a lot of people don’t like me.”

“Who gives a shit? You just had your heart broken and you need to let loose.”

Bea sighs, pulling away from Veronica, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Come on, it beats drinking in the dark on your own.”

Bea sighs, dropping her shoulders, “what about uh Poppy?”

“Poppy?” Veronica arches a brow, “her and Chloe are staying in tonight, she said she needed to catch up on homework or something.”

Bea purses her lips together in thought before sighing, “fine.” Veronica cheers, “but,” Bea over enunciates, “only for a few hours and if I don’t like it I’m going home.”

“Okay, deal,” Veronica squeals, wrapping Bea in a big hug. Carter chuckles as Veronica gestures for him to join the hug, he awkwardly wraps his arms around the two girls, before pulling away.

“Okay, I’ll wait in the car while you girls get ready. Just uh don’t take too long.”

Veronica playfully rolls her eyes as she Bea towards her bedroom, yelling back “thanks Carter.” Giddy, she rushes to Bea’s closest, assessing her clothes until she finds a short red dress hidden in the back. “This!”

“No, no, no,” Bea shakes her head, pulling the dress out of the ombre-haired girl’s hands.

“Why not? It would look so hot on you,” Veronica’s eyes trail down Bea’s body, as she sharply inhales. “Bea, you’re single and sexy, stop holding yourself back okay?”

“I’m not,” Bea pushes back defensively, “I just-” she sighs heavily, “no one at Belvoire has ever seen me dressed up, I’m just- I’m nervous I guess.”

“Then we have to show them what they’ve been missing for the last three years,” Veronica gives Bea a devilish smile as she takes the dress from Bea’s hands, sliding the dress off the hanger before handing it over to Bea.

“Uh you gonna stay in the room?” Bea nervously wrings her hands together.

“Why, are you offering a show?” Veronica lifts a teasing brow, noticing Bea’s cheeks redden slightly, which prompts her to let out a small laugh, “I’m kidding, don’t worry I won’t look.” Veronica makes a show of raising her hands to cover her eyes. Bea laughs as she slips out of her clothes and into the dress, she awkwardly clears her throat, grabbing Veronica’s attention.

“Hey, uh help a girl out with her zipper?”

“Sure,” Veronica moves to stand behind Bea, her hands ghosting around Bea’s exposed back, her breath momentarily taken away. She sturdies herself and places one of her hands on the small of the brunette’s back while the other moves towards the zipper, zipping the girl up. Bea smooths the dress down with her hands appreciating herself in the mirror, “you look gorgeous,” Veronica whispers into the shell of her ear.

Bea’s face completely flushes red and slightly jerks at Veronica’s admission, “uhh thanks.”

Veronica notices the awkward shift in the atmosphere, and promptly changes the subject, “so where’s your sister?”

Bea sits in front of her mirror, a comb in her hand as she brushes her long locks, “she’s staying at a friend’s tonight.”

“Cool,” Veronica answers back but her tone falls flat. The girls bask in the awkward silence as Bea continues to get ready but when Veronica notices Bea struggling to do her winged eyeliner she breaks the silence. “Hey do you need help?”

Bea smiles bashfully, “yeah.” She rubs the back of her head with her hand, “sorry Poppy used to help me with my makeup.”

“Right,” Veronica’s face slightly falls but she quickly covers it up, ushering Bea to come and sit on the bed. “Come on, I don’t bite,” Veronica bites the bottom of her lip, “unless you want me too.” Bea laughs but obliges sitting on the edge of the bed. Veronica clambers onto her lap, her thighs settling on the sides of Bea’s legs, and in response, Bea’s eyes widen in surprise but she remains glued in her spot, too shocked to move.

“V, what are you doing?” Bea whispers, her voice attempting to come across as reprimanding but it comes out as breathy.

“Relax, I’m just doing your eyeliner.” Veronica plucks the wand from Bea’s hand and angles herself close to the brunette’s face, as she begins drawing on the wings on Bea’s eyelids. Bea steadies herself, as she feels the heat of Veronica’s body so close to hers and when Veronica is finished with putting the finishing touches on her eyelids, she hops off Bea’s lap, making her way towards the desk, scuffling through Bea’s makeup bag before taking up her place on Bea’s lap once again. “Now I think this colour would look good on you,”

“You don’t think it’s too much red?”

“Oh babe, red means power, dominance, you don’t wanna be thinking about Poppy the entire night, you wanna have all eyes on you Bea Hughes.” Veronica uncaps the lipstick, her eyes burning into Bea’s lips as she carefully applies the red colour to her lips. “Perfect.”

Bea smacks her lips together, evenly spreading the red on her lips. “Thanks V.”

Veronica’s eyes dart to Bea’s lips, her tongue slightly running along her bottom lips before she breaks out of her reverie flashing Bea a smirk, “don’t thank me yet, thank me when you’re having the time of your life at the party.” Veronica slides off Bea’s lap, holding her hand out, “come on let’s finish up because Carter’s been waiting for a while.” Bea smiles up at Veronica, taking her hand as she lets the ombre-haired girl pull her off the bed, as they continue getting ready.

………

Once they arrive at the party, Carter drops the girls off at the front of the huge house before telling them he will park the car. Veronica’s gaze darts to Bea, who’s nervously toying with her hands, looking up at the intimidating house, the lights blaring and as the music echoes throughout, the bass thumping in their ears. Noticing the nerves settling into her, Veronica slips into Bea's, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “hey, it’s okay, it’s just a bunch of drunk, preppy uptight teenagers, nothing you don't usually face everyday.”

Bea lets out a small laugh, “just in a big ass house,” she jests.

“Yeah, just in a big ass house,” she gives Bea a light squeeze as she starts pulling Bea into the house with her. Automatically, they’re met with stares and whispers, as the students look astonished at Bea, some appraising her outfit, while others are confused about her presence. “Hey, just stay with me okay?” Veronica whispers over to Bea. Bea nods, her eyes roaming the room. “I’ll get us drinks.” The ombre-haired girl gives Bea a reassuring pat on her arm and leaves her side and Bea walks into the living room, observing the difference between the vibes of the party between the north and the south. Her thoughts then move to think about Poppy, how Poppy would love going to parties in the north but Bea couldn’t find the appeal in it. Poppy. Poppy, who broke up with her. She’s interrupted from her thoughts by a tap of her shoulder, and Bea turns around to see Veronica offering her a red solo cup, Bea takes a sip and winces.

“What the hell is this crap?”

“Yeah for a bunch of rich kids, their taste in beer isn’t the best,” Veronica jokes, slightly nudging Bea.

“We have way better beer in the south side.”

“That I can agree with.” Veronica looks over to Bea who looks lost in thought, “hey what are you thinking about?”

Bea sighs heavily, “Poppy,” she mutters.

Veronica nods once, “right, yeah.”

“Poppy would’ve loved a party like this, big fancy house an-”

“Bea,” Veronica says, her tone slightly agitated, “this,” she gestures around the room, “is a no Poppy zone. That means we don’t think about Poppy, only about fun.”

Bea nods, “fun. I can do that.” Veronica lifts her cup in the air, “what are we cheering to?”

Veronica gives Bea a smile, “here’s to the first steps in moving on.” The girls tap their cups together before downing their drinks. “Now if we wanna get drunk, we’re gonna need a lot more of these.”

The party is still ongoing, and Bea sits in a circle with a few girls from the volleyball team and a few of the football team and other people she doesn’t recognise while Veronica sits beside her.

“Bea you look so pretty,” one of her teammates says.

“Yeah Bea your makeup is literally gorgeous,” another chimes in.

“Who knew strip tease can clean up well,” Ford jests, but Bea slumps her shoulders a little, remembering that these people are not her friends.

Carter enters the circle slapping Ford on the head as he goes, “shut up, Hughes is cool.” Bea gives Carter a nod of appreciation before looking down at the drink in her hands. Her thoughts move a million miles a minute, but there’s a constant one stuck in her brain, Poppy.

Veronica looks over at Bea, frowning. “Hey come with me.” She stands, excusing herself from the group and Bea follows her close behind.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna play a private game of truth or drink.”

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #star crossed lovers #thank you for waiting #i promise to be more consistent #love you guys

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