#and then i told them i just turned 27 and both of them were baffled that 1) i am and 2) friend had been telling the truth when she told them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

streetlight11 · 3 years ago

Text

Her Promise

Summary: It wasn’t a secret that you have disliked Sangyeon since you were in diapers. He was your mother’s best friend’s son. Though he was born just 27 days after you, it seems like he was a lot older than you in terms of his maturity. You don’t understand why the bad blood between you two. Until one day, you had been arranged for a marriage with him so suddenly.

Theme: arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers

Genre: angst, sad, fluff

Warnings: mentions of leukaemia, death, alcohol, swearing

WC: 10k

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This plot just randomly came to mind. It's kind of sad and a little angsty but you'll get through reading it. I promise! also, the words in italics is a flashback :)

Your family has been a close family friend to the Lee’s family and that was because your mother and Mrs Lee were best friends since high school. Also the reason why you were only 27 days older than Mr and Mrs Lee’s only son. However, not everyone has a happy friendship. In this case, it was you and the said son. His name was Lee Sangyeon and it was pretty obvious that you two could never get along since you were in diapers.

Despite your mothers being best friends and have been for the past 30 years, give or take. It’s no wonder that when they were pregnant with the both of you, they kept fighting with each other over small silly things when they barely got past even the slightest of arguments throughout their friendship.

And yet, it seems like luck was never on your side to begin with because throughout your whole education life up till today, he always ends up in your school or at least the school that you chose specifically hoping to be as far from him as possible.

It always baffles you how he would be the first person you spot amongst the crowd during the first day of school.

Did he do all these on purpose?

Why would he go to this extent just to annoy you if you both hated each other?

Maybe he didn’t in fact do this on purpose, but still, what are the odds that you end up in the same campus amongst the hundreds of schools available? That was a mystery you never plan on solving.

It was a bright Tuesday afternoon, students were scattered all over the large campus of Hangang University. You had just parked your car in a free space, exiting your vehicle before proceeding to lock it and walk towards the Computer Science building. You were halfway through the parking lot when someone suddenly swung an arm over your shoulder.

“Good morning my favourite person in the world!” Lisa giggled to your left as Rosie appeared on your right with her usual beaming smile that could melt hearts with just a glance.

“Hey girls, you’re early” You asked with a soft chuckle knowing Lisa was always late for class.

“Yeah, I wanted to leave my apartment now like I always do but Rosie begged me to drive her today because her baby is in the workshop.” Lisa huffs, only for the blonde girl on your right to defend herself.

“Hey, at least we got here on time. You’re welcome.”

With that, Lisa stuck out her tongue at Rosie, earning a laugh from you. The three of you continued to walk to the CS building, only to find Jennie and Jisoo chatting by the lockers while Jennie scavenged through her locker.

“Ew, is it just me or is the barbeque chicken a little dry today?” Jisoo scowls as she drops the chicken leg back onto her plate.

“No, I agree. It’s foul.” Lisa’s face contorts in disgust before you speak up.

“Do you guys want my salmon instead? I'm kind of full already.” You said, only to find them staring at you in concern. They began asking you if you were feeling okay and if you needed any medication of any sorts. To which you shook your head and just told them you were already full from the breakfast your mother made for you before she left for work with your dad.

Lisa and Jisoo ended up sharing your salmon piece, making you smile. At least your food wouldn’t be wasted, you thought.

A few hours later, your classes for the day were finally over. All you know is that your bed has been waiting for your arrival since the minute you left for school. You left class slightly later, telling the girls you had something to discuss with your lecturer regarding the assignment.

You told them to just head home first and not wait for you.

Almost 20 minutes later, you finally left the lecture room to head towards the parking lot where you had parked your car earlier. Your mind was clouded with the assignment requirements as you scrolled through the soft copy of the assignment through your email, too caught up in your thoughts to notice the group of boys walking down the hall.

That wasn’t until your shoulder roughly collided against someone’s back. It sent your whole body to stumble back from the impact. You were about to apologize when you heard a snicker coming from whoever it was.

So you glanced up and lord behold, it was just the person you were looking for…

Not really.

“Can you pay attention to where you walk? It’s not that hard to use your eyes.” Sangyeon’s voice was monotonous yet a pitch higher than others, just like his ego.

“That’s because you’re in my way, Lee.” You said sarcastically as you walked past him, not forgetting to purposely bump into his arm. He let out a scoff under his breath, fiery glare burning a prominent hole into the back of your head.

God, you can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Him included.

A few days later, it was finally a Friday. You heard words going around campus saying that one of the seniors in the school’s football team was having a frat party at his place tonight. He invited everyone in the football team, and people that he knew. Turns out he also told his teammates to bring whoever they wanted whether he knows them or not.

Lucky for you (or maybe not), Rosie’s boyfriend happens to be one of the football players. If you remember correctly, his name is Yunhyeong.

And so you already know where this is going.

Hence, the reason why you were now standing right outside the house where the party was held.

No doubt the house was a beautiful landed property at the hills that overlooked the city, it still didn’t give you complete comfort knowing that you would be surrounded by drunk young adults who have no care in the world once the alcohol takes over their system.

Sure you sometimes go to these parties but you weren’t really that type of girl. It’s always an unpleasant surprise to others who aren't your girls, when you decline their offers of alcohol saying you don’t drink.

Though there were instances where you’d have some people still insisting on giving you a drink, you rejected them firmly whether they liked it or not.

And today was no different.

One moment, you were talking to your friends. Another moment, and you were suddenly left alone by the kitchen island. Isolating yourself from the countless intoxicated bodies, dancing freely without a single care in the world.

It suddenly dawned on you that you were indeed alone, with no other individual that you recognize in that huge house. Your friends were scattered around the main living area, each of them either with their significant other or just randomly hooking up with someone. Using alcohol as an excuse to be brave and approach someone at a party like this.

You sighed, reaching into your back pocket to fish for your phone. You were so close to texting them you wanted to head home first, when a deep voice broke your little bubble of thoughts.

“Hey… Y/N right?” The handsome boy asked as he smiled down at you softly.

He clearly didn’t seem too drunk, nor was he completely sober like you.

“Yeah… you are?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound like a bitch.

“I’m Changkyun. I see your friends have left you so I thought maybe you’d want some company?”

Well, at least he’s being considerate enough.

“About that… I was actually about to-” As you were talking, your eyes were searching the room for at least one of the girls. But instead, your gaze was locked on a specific individual who was leaning against the staircase railings just staring at you with a subtle frown on his face, making your voice halt in your throat.

It was Sangyeon.

You should’ve known he would be there tonight. He’s the freaking midfielder in Hangang U’s soccer team for goodness sake!

For some reason, the moment you met his eyes, it was as though you got sucked into a black hole with no way to escape. That wasn’t until the warm touch on your arm made you jolt away and soon turned back to Changkyun who was now staring at you with worry.

“Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” He asked, hoping he didn’t scare you away by that simple touch.

“Y-Yeah… Sorry Changkyun, but I think I’m gonna head home. See you around.” You gave him a sincere smile before turning to leave after he said his goodbye.

There is no way you’re gonna stay there any longer. It’s not like you were drunk or anything. Not like you’d expected him to show up in black leather pants, dark grey button down shirt tucked in, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair parted close to the middle to frame his face and show his forehead, attractively. And definitely not like you felt as though your stomach was doing a flip in your abdomen after seeing him there physically.

Right?

No. You still hate him. He’s just a walking nuisance in your life. You don’t feel anything for him. Maybe he needs to stop appearing in your line of vision every 5 minutes.

It’s been two weeks since that frat party in which you had texted your friends saying you were already at home. Of course you didn’t get a response immediately but they still replied to you the next morning, telling you they were safe and they were glad that you were too.

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon where students were all stuck on campus with nowhere to go. You were just seated at a wooden table alone with your laptop and scattered notes on the surface when the ray of sunlight that was previously shining down on you, got blocked by a figure.

You glanced up and not surprisingly, it was Sangyeon. He was alone. For once. He was always with his friends, so you wondered why he chose to walk around alone today.

“What?” You asked nonchalantly before looking back down at your laptop.

You heard a scoff from him only for him to speak up, “Did your parents tell you?”

You got confused as you looked back up to him and blinked, incredulously at what he just asked you.

“Tell me what?” You asked. He wasn’t sure if he was faking it or not but he figured with how genuinely confused you look, it was quite clear you weren’t pretending to not know what he was referring to.

“My parents are coming over to your home this weekend to discuss ‘something serious’. I’m not going. I’m not about to sit there and listen to what the ‘something serious’ is, let alone sit there trapped and stare at you the whole night.” Sangyeon said blankly as he burned holes in your head.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you there anyway.” You scoffed, only for him to push himself off the table and smoothed down his shirt.

Sangyeon left without saying anything else, watching as he turned his head as though in search of his friends. However, the minute you looked back down at your laptop, it seems like you missed the way he glanced at you subtly before turning back in front.

That same day, you went home to find your parents in the living room. Your father was watching the news on the flat screen tv while your mother was just watering the potted plants on the shelves.

The minute you stepped into the living room, your father turned to you and smiled brightly, “Oh, sweetie you’re back. We wanted to tell you that Mr and Mrs-” but before he could finish, you did it for him, stunning them in the process.

“-Lee are coming over this weekend to discuss ‘something serious’... I know.”

With that, your mother and father glanced at each other before a smile appeared on their faces again. You already knew what they were about to ask so you beat them to it.

“Sangyeon told me… So what’s so serious that they wanna come over here and talk about it?” You asked, not knowing what to expect but all you got was silence.

“We have to wait till everyone’s there.”

“Not everyone’s gonna be there…” You said.

“What do you mean?” Your mother asked.

“Sangyeon said he’s not coming. He doesn't want to.”

“B-But, he has to be there. It’s important.”

“What’s so important that he has to be there for?” Your voice laced with annoyance at the thought of having to sit in a room with him for minutes too long. Your parents got quiet before your mother spoke up again but for some reason, her voice sounded weak.

“You’ll know on Saturday.” She gave you a weak smile. Too weak to the point that she almost looks… pale?

Why is she pale?

But your mind was too jumbled up with what the main topic for this said family dinner would revolve around. Hence, why you were now sprinting up the steps and to your room. You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You just hoped the weekend passes by before you know it.

Saturday came in a flash and to say you were ready for whatever family gathering this was, is definitely a lie. You were curious. You were desperate to know just what important business is there to discuss with you and Sangyeon. Despite knowing he won’t be there for whatever this meeting is about, it still rendered you curious on just how important this said matter is.

You were told to look presentable even though you’ll just be at home. So you pulled out the nicest outfit you could find and just opted for a simple blouse and your denim jeans.

Once you were done getting ready, you left your room only to hear your mother calling out to you from downstairs, “Y/N sweetie, the Lee’s are here!”

You made your way down the marbled steps, ready to greet the elder couple when your eyes fell on their son who clearly said he wasn’t going to be here. But of course, it looked like he had been forced against his own will to be here and you were right.

“Oh! My sweet Y/N! It’s been so long. How are you my dear?” Mrs Lee asked as you broke your gaze from Sangyeon only to smile happily when you looked at his parents.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Lee. I’m doing well despite my crazy uni life. I hope you’re both well and healthy!” You said as Mrs Lee hugged you warmly like how she had been doing since you were young.

After greeting them, the 6 of you began walking to your dining room. You then turned to Sangyeon who was walking beside you, only to ask out of curiosity, “Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna come?”

With that, he turns to you and shoots daggers at you through his glare but it does nothing to scare you away.

“Do I look like I wanna be here?”

“Clearly.” You said, just to get on his nerves and it did.

“Fuck you.”

“I’d gladly fuck myself too.”

Sangyeon frowns at your comment despite knowing it was sarcastic. But he still found it amusing that it came out from your mouth. Sure you’ve cursed him a lot of times when you fought with him, but this was a different thing.

All of you finally sat down in the dining room, you helped your mother set the table.

A few minutes went by and everyone was just chatting amongst one another. Well, more specifically the elders while you and Sangyeon simply sat there across each other in silence. You were absentmindedly picking on your food, suddenly losing appetite.

All you wanted was for them to start discussing the very important business. Which is why your patience has run thin, making you blurt out the question that has been floating in your head since Wednesday.

“What’s the important thing you called me and Sangyeon here for?”

The room fell silent as you kept your eyes on your plate of untouched food. Completely ignoring the way Sangyeon had his eyes trained on you. After what felt like hours, your mother finally announced it.

It made your heart stop for a moment.

“We have decided to marry you off with Sangyeon.”

That was the last thing you ever wanted to hear from them. Never did you expect it to be this. Why were they doing this to you? Of course you know you’re single and not dating anyone but still… How could they?

“What?!” Both you and Sangyeon said in unison.

Tension filled the air, thick in its wake. You couldn’t look elsewhere except for your mother who had announced the news.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You mumbled under your breath as Sangyeon got up, letting the chair drag painfully across the wooden floor. His mother grabbed his wrist to stop him but he roughly yanked his wrist from her and simply replied with his firm answer, “There’s no way I’m marrying her. I’m out.”

Sangyeon stormed out and you were so tempted to do the same but all you could do was glare at your parents in disbelief.

“Sweetie-” Your mom began but you were quick to interject.

“No! That’s not happening! Mom, you know we hate each other! How can you ask me to marry him when I don’t even love him?!” Your voice was raised as you stood up from your seat. Blood boils in your veins, heart pounding rapidly in your chest out of pure anger. You wanted nothing more but to scream.

You turned in your heels to leave but your mother caught your hands when you were about to reach the stairs. You pulled your hand from her grip, throwing your arm behind your back from the force.

“Sweetie please, listen to me-”

“No mom! I’m not marrying him and that’s final!” You yelled, too furious to even notice the way your mom had clutched her chest as her breathing started to become shallow.

Before you knew it, your mother collapsed to the ground but you were quick to catch her body right when she was about to crash onto the hard wooden floor.

“Mom!” You gasped as your dad and both of Sangyeon’s parents rushed over to where you were.

Mr Lee called the ambulance in which they came just 10 minutes later, carrying your mother’s unconscious body onto the stretcher and bringing her into the ambulance. Your father followed her in the vehicle while Mr Lee offered you a ride there.

Hours passed and you were waiting patiently outside the ER when a doctor came out. Your dad rushed over so you could only guess that she was the one who attended to your mom.

“Doctor, how’s my wife?”

“Your wife’s still under constant checks but so far, her heart is beating stably. However, it seems that her abnormal white blood cells have rapidly multiplied since her last check up.” The doctor said, making you frown.

“White blood cells? What’s going on? What’s wrong with my mother?” You asked desperately, still not sure of what’s going on.

“Your mother was diagnosed with Leukaemia stage 2 but from what I saw today, I believe it’s now up to stage 4.” The doctor announced, making you even more confused.

“What?” You whispered as you stared at your dad, hoping that it’s not true. But all you got was a disheartened smile that broke you into a million pieces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered to him sadly, upset that they’ve been keeping this a secret from you.

“I’m sorry baby, but your mother told me not to. She… She didn’t want you to get worried.” He replied.

You don’t understand. You knowing about this was better than keeping it hidden from you. If you had known about this sooner, you wouldn’t have shouted at her. Instead, you would have taken extra care of her. You would have given her more love than what she gave you. And you wouldn’t have to stand here, right now, hoping for your mother’s safety and health.

You slumped onto one of the chairs, staring into space as your father rubbed soft circles into your back to calm you down.

Three days passed and you have been visiting your mother at the hospital diligently after your classes. You stayed till night time, allowing your dad to fetch you from the hospital after he also came by to visit your mom.

You were currently alone in the room with your mom as your dad went out to buy dinner for all three of you.

She was just lying there sleeping peacefully after having a deep conversation with her about some things, her eyes now closed, breathing consistent, chest heaving up and down according to her oxygen intake.

You were just about to doze off when the heart rate monitor suddenly began beeping rapidly. It caused you to panic as you ran out of the room to call for the nurses.

When you came back, your mother was shaking on the hospital bed. Tears started streaming down your face as you found yourself curled up in the corner just watching the hospital staff do whatever is necessary to help your mother.

You didn’t notice your dad who had just come back, only to rush to you after putting the food down on the desk. It was when he cupped your face, that you finally realized his presence.

He pulled you against him as you couldn’t tear your eyes off your mother’s figure, shaking violently on the bed.

It was as though someone had dropped a bomb just a few feet away, a deafening silence pierced your ear drums followed by the single beep sound that was continuous without a pause. The sound soon became a mere ring in your ears.

You slowly brought your line of sight towards the heart rate monitor beside your mother’s bed and that’s when you saw it. The painful straight line with no spikes going up or down.

That’s when you knew, she was gone.

No. This can’t be real. This is just a dream. Wake up Y/N. Pinch yourself. Slap yourself. Do whatever it is to wake yourself up from this nightmare!

And yet, you’re still there in your dad’s arms listening to the nurse who wrote down the words you never hoped to hear.

“Patient is Jeong Hyemin. Time of death, 2143hrs.”

All the more you cried harder against your father’s chest. You were broken. Completely and utterly broken. Your mother left you before you could even say goodbye. She left before you could even tell her that you love her unconditionally even though you told her that everyday.

As much as your heart hurts, you knew you had to accept it. You knew you had to be strong for your mother. And that was exactly what you did.

The next whole week, you didn’t come to school. You emailed your lecturers personally and told them about your loss. They all sent you their well wishes for you and your dad, to which they excused you from school to attend your mother’s funeral. It broke you but you couldn’t collapse just then.

Your mother would want you to be happy, to continue living a wonderful life, with or without her. And that’s exactly what you were gonna do.

The next two weeks came as a blur and you were dreading for the day to finally arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in the mirror and see what you looked like. Because at that very moment, you were in an item of clothing where you never thought you would wear anytime soon.

It was a wedding dress. Your wedding dress. It has finally come to this.

Your makeup stylist did a few touch ups to your eyeshadow whilst another lady adjusted the bow on your waist that separates your laced top with your beautiful silk gown that drops to the floor elegantly behind you.

If you were being honest, you had hoped for this very day to come when you would walk down the aisle with your arm linked with your dad’s while your mother stood at the front row, watching you proudly. Witnessing you entering a new life with your chosen partner whom you’d love with all your heart.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case for you and it hurts you. But you kept telling yourself the same thing over and over again.

“I have to stay strong.”

That was the last thing you mumbled to yourself as you left the bride’s room, only to head towards the outdoor wedding ceremony where your parents had already booked an incredibly beautiful mansion located at the highest hills of the city.

It was a small ceremony with only your family and his, and very close relatives of both sides but that was it. None of your friends were there but you already told them about today.

Little did you know, his friends knew about it too.

You were approaching the outdoor garden where everyone was waiting for you when all of a sudden, your emotions started swirling in you.

A tear rolled down your cheek the minute you saw your dad standing at the doorway which leads you directly down the aisle. Your dad gave you a soft smile before cupping your face and kissing your forehead. He wiped the tear away with his thumb as he whispered, “You look so beautiful, sweetheart. I’m sure your mother would be so happy to see you like this.”

With that, you had to force your tears back, swallowing them as you nodded before linking your arm with his.

The song started playing and soon, both of you began to walk down the aisle. The first thing you saw was Sangyeon standing at the foot of the platform. He was wearing a navy blue tuxedo, looking quite handsome if you were being completely honest.

But the frown on his face was evident enough for you to know that he didn’t like this as much as you didn’t like this either.

Once you were standing just two feet away, you turned to your dad who kissed you again on the forehead before putting your hand in Sangyeon’s outstretched ones. After your dad left your side, Sangyeon guided you up the steps carefully.

His touch was soft, almost as if he wasn’t touching you at all. Minutes went by and right after you’ve both said your vows, it was time for the exchange of rings and sealing the deal with a kiss but of course, neither of you agreed to it. So when you were officially announced as husband and wife, you both looked at each other with a familiarity in your eyes which screamed “I hate all of this”.

Sangyeon lets out a soft groan before planting a chaste kiss to your temple, pulling away as soon as he kisses.

Both of you walked back down the aisle and once you were in the mansion, it took you less than a second to walk away from him and make your way straight to the bride’s makeup room.

Sangyeon didn’t bother to call for you as he too made his way to the common room, wanting to be as far away from you as possible. He hated every single minute of this. He never wanted this. But he was being forced to. And he doesn’t even know why.

When he heard from his parents that you accepted the arranged marriage, it baffled him.

You were both so adamant on rejecting this whole fiasco during that night of the dinner so what changed your mind?

That was a question he could never solve.

Days became weeks and you had moved into the new home that his parents and yours bought for Sangyeon and you to live in. It was a beautiful one story home that had 3 bedrooms, one study room, one living room and a backyard complete with a swimming pool. You were thankful for the home but you didn’t think it was necessary considering the state that you and Sangyeon were being put in.

Nevertheless, you didn’t want to disappoint the elders. Hence the reason why you moved in with Sangyeon without a single argument with your dad and in-laws.

Unfortunately, the fact that you two were now living under the same roof, it was quite expected of you to end up fighting over the smallest little things. If being within radius of each other on campus brought unnecessary snickers and curses to one another, living under the same roof only heightened those said things by 80%.

There wasn’t a day where you could walk around the house peacefully unless the other wasn't home.

It has been 8 weeks since you lived there with him. Despite the constant fights and heated arguments that the two of you often get into, none of it leads to the other doing unfaithful things behind each other’s back.

Before the marriage, it was quite clear that you weren’t in any sort of relationship with anyone nor were you the kind to sleep around with strangers you just met at a club or parties. Whereas, Sangyeon on the other hand was completely that, except he too was single. He tends to sleep around with girls he met at a party or the clubs he went to.

But never did he actually pursue any of his one night stands because he simply didn’t feel that way for them.

However, when he got married to you despite being against it, he made a promise to himself that he should not do all those things to you even if he doesn’t love you. Because he knows that it’s wrong and that he despises people who cheat on their partners.

For that, he told himself not to be that monster.

And he didn’t. Thankfully.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t storm out of the house after an argument just to get fresh air and be away from you at that very moment.

This goes both ways as sometimes, you would do the same if you couldn’t stand being in radius of him.

But tonight was different.

You were just washing the dishes when the front door opened to reveal a very drained Sangyeon who had just gotten back from the gym.

He strolled through down the hallway with his duffle bag strap resting on his right shoulder, the wet patches on his grey tank top sticking to his torso, black track shorts resting on his hips. His hair was slicked back from being drenched in sweat.

You spared him a quick glance over your shoulder before you turned back to the dirty dishes. Unfortunately for you, he caught you glancing just in time.

He walked past you to go to the fridge after putting his bag down on the floor, opening it and immediately grabbing the bottle of iced water sitting there patiently for him to take it. He downed half the bottle in less than 5 seconds, only to hear him let out a satisfied sigh right after.

You remained quiet as he looked at you for a moment, a small part of him wanted to ask you if you’ve eaten but a bigger part of him, more so his ego, was telling him to walk away.

For some reason, he decided to go with the former. Something he hasn’t been doing all these years.

“Had your dinner yet?” He asked, making you turn off the tap after setting down the clean dish onto the rack above your head before turning to him with a slight confusion on your face.

“Mhm. You?”

“Not yet.” He said as he leaned his hip against the counter top.

“What do you feel like eating?” You asked, wiping your hands dry with the towel hanging off the hook on the wall.

“I kind of have the feel for kimchi fried rice… I’ll just make do with what is there in the fridge. No worries.” Sangyeon said with a soft smile on his face before he left to take a long shower. Something he always did when he had a lot going on in his mind.

The minute he left, you stared at his descending back for a minute before turning back with a confused frown on your face.

Sangyeon was in the shower for almost 20 minutes. Taking a warm bath to calm his tensed muscles due to the intense workout he did with Juyeon and Hyunjae earlier. After his stress relieving bath, Sangyeon changed into a pair of sweatpants and his oversized shirt he normally uses to sleep.

He towel dried his hair, leaving it in an utter mess on his head with no care whatsoever.

He simply brushed through his wet locks with his fingers haphazardly before leaving his bedroom toilet. Sangyeon and you weren’t sharing bedrooms. It was just a mutual agreement right from the first night together.

You took the master bedroom in this house while he took the second bedroom.

Sangyeon was just walking down the hall, scratching the back of his head randomly when he caught a strong whiff of something delicious filling his nostrils.

“What the?” He whispered to himself as he cautiously made his way closer to the end of the hall. The minute he made a right turn, that’s when he saw you scooping out the contents of the pan into a clean plate. To his surprise, it was the exact dish he told you he was planning to cook earlier.

He finally stepped out of the shadows, only to startle you.

You flinched but that was it.

“Hey… I figured you’d be too tired to cook so I made it for you. Just leave the plate in the sink after you’re done. I’ll wash it later.” You pressed your lips into a small little smile before placing the dish on the kitchen island together with a spoon.

Right when you were about to leave the kitchen, his voice stopped you from walking any further only to hear him whisper a soft “thank you” to you.

You gave him a nod and soon left.

Sangyeon stares at your descending back before you disappear from his trail of sight, only to then tilt his head in amusement at your sudden kind act. For some reason, he found himself smiling as he took a mouthful of your delicious fried rice.

Another 3 weeks went by and you had just gotten back from your night study session with Lisa and Jennie, only to find Sangyeon slumped on the couch. He had his face buried in his hands as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

You frowned as you locked the door and soon went over to stand behind the long couch, diagonally from the couch he was sitting at.

“Rough day?” You asked quietly, but all you got was silence so you tried again.

“Have you eaten?”

Silence.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

Silence.

“Sangyeon, even if you hate me, at least say yes or no so I can-” And that’s when he bursts.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sangyeon yelled as he glared at you. His nostrils flared upon every heavy breath he took. You were stunned by his harsh tone, clearly not wanting any argument when you first asked the question.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a tone that was pretty obvious to anyone that you were clearly offended by his words.

“Didn’t you hear me?! I said shut the fuck up!” Sangyeon stood tall, his face red as you could only imagine he was stressed about something. A scoff left your lips, feeling the anger seeping through your skin with every word he said to you.

“Why? Why do you want me to shut the fuck up so badly?!” You asked as you stared at him with mixed emotions.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying!” Sangyeon growled as he began to storm off but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Answer my fucking question, Lee Sangyeon! I was just being nice and caring about your well being and all I got was to shut up? You’re a fucking asshole you know that?” You said, your words filled with venom as he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching tight.

“Who taught you to be such a brat? Your mother?” Sangyeon accidentally blurted that out of sheer anger. Your grip around his wrist left and the next thing he knew, your eyes were glossy from the tears threatening to fall.

“Don’t bring my mother into this.” You warned but he was still fuming with anger.

“Why? Why can’t I?! She’s the only reason why we’re in this stupid marriage anyway!”

You didn’t know what ran through your mind but the minute those words left his mouth, you couldn’t help but swing your hand onto his cheek. This shocked him to a certain extent as he simply glared at you but never did anything to hurt you physically.

“Do you know why I accepted the marriage proposal? Do you wanna know why I decided to walk down that fucking aisle and have myself being called as your official wife?! Well here’s the reason why. I promised my mom I would.” You paused as he remained quiet. You could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as though trying to process your words.

“My mom died wanting me to marry you. She told me she wanted to see me walk down the aisle one day and into your arms. Until now, I don’t understand why she specifically wants it to be you, but that’s what she wanted. So I promised her that she would be there for when that day comes. But she left me before she could even witness that for herself. She left before I could even say goodbye. It broke me. It fucking broke me Sangyeon! That’s why I chose to accept the proposal even when…”

You stopped for a moment, not realizing that you had been crying until you tasted salty tears on your lips.

“...even when I didn’t love you. I did it because I made a promise to her. I don’t want to let her down, Sangyeon.... I never wanted any of this to happen. And I know you feel the same so I’m sorry.” Those were the last things you said to him before going to your bedroom and locking yourself in there.

Sangyeon was left standing there, feeling completely shitty with what he said to you earlier. He never meant to hurt your feelings. He should’ve known better not to mention your mom but he only said that out of pure anger.

He knows it’s his fault but his ego was too high for him to simply give in to his mistake.

He was about to just brush this off when he heard the door click and soon, you were seen leaving your bedroom with a cross body purse on you. You didn’t give him the chance to speak as you just left the house with a soft slam of your front door. He watched as you took your white mini cooper and drove out of the driveway.

“Sweetie, why don’t you want to accept the proposal?” Your mother asked weakly as you sat on the chair beside her hospital bed.

“Mom, you know I don’t love him. We’ve been fighting since we were kids. I don’t see why I should marry someone who I don’t love.”

“Oh sweetie, you can only learn to love by loving.”

“Mom, that’s just fairy tale talk.”

“Do you wanna know something?” She asked as you stared at her quietly while you caressed the back of her hand with your thumbs as he took this silence to continue.

“Your father and I weren’t on good terms too when we first met each other. We always fought in high school and it went on for quite a while until Mrs Lee set me up on this blind date and it was with your father. At first we found it ridiculous, but after that first date, I realized that maybe your father wasn’t as bad as I thought. And so, we started to slowly understand the process of loving someone and soon enough, we fell in love. Love doesn’t always come to you directly. Sometimes, you need to find it yourself.”

She paused, studying your facial expressions carefully to make sure you weren’t angry or about to burst at her for the next thing she was planning to say.

“Can you promise me something sweetie?”

“Anything… Anything at all mom.” You said with a glint of hope in your eyes.

“Can you promise me that you’ll marry Mrs Lee’s son? I don’t care when. Just… as long as it’s him. Even if I’m not around anymore...”

“Mom-”

“Please? For me?”

Your heart broke hearing her pleading voice. You don’t understand why she was so persistent in you marrying him but for now, you couldn’t bear to say no. You couldn’t bear to break her heart. So, with a heavy heart, you chose your mother’s happiness before yours.

“Okay mom… I promise. But you have to promise me too that you’ll be fine and that you’ll come back to me and dad, okay?”

“I promise, sweetheart. I love you so much.” She said.

“I love you too mom.”

That night when you came back to your old house, your dad greeted you at the door with a shocked look on his face. He asked you why you were there at such a late time so you explained to him that you got into a big fight with Sangyeon and that you wanted to stay there for the next few days. Of course your father was happy that he would finally have someone in the house with him, but he was also worried that Sangyeon would be concerned over you.

You told him not to tell Sangyeon anything and that you wanted time away from him for now, in which your dad just nodded understandingly. The next few days, you spent your days diligently avoiding Sangyeon as much as you can despite being in the same campus. Lucky for you, he had very different schedules than you.

Which means, better chance for you to avoid him and not accidentally bump into him on campus grounds. And so far, your plan is working.

It’s been at least 3 weeks since you last went home to your shared place with him and you were starting to run low on your clothing supply back at your old house. Which means, you probably had no choice but to go back there now.

In all honesty, you weren’t mad at him anymore.

You were just too stubborn to face him after that argument. But it looks like you have no other choice now.

Hence, the reason why you were currently standing outside your doorstep at 8pm, noticing the vehicles parked outside your gates. By the looks of it, those probably belonged to his friends. And you were right. Because the minute you unlocked the door, you were immediately greeted by the chattering and laughter coming from the living room.

You walked in further, carefully after taking off your shoes and placing them in the shoe rack. Right when you had just made it by the end of the hallway and the living room was in full view, that’s where you saw the 6 figures scattered around the room.

The TV was playing a movie while the coffee table was filled with boxes of pizzas and other snacks for them to munch on.

Before you could speak up, two of them noticed your presence, making the blonde haired one to say hi, “Oh, hi Y/N.”

With that, the rest of them finally turned around upon hearing their friend greet you. Sangyeon, who was standing right in front of the TV, checking the cables, whipped his head around only to lock eyes with you. He froze in his spot, unsure if this was real considering you’ve been avoiding him like a plague the past 3 weeks.

“Y/N…” Was the only thing he managed to whisper under his breath as you awkwardly chuckled, hoping you didn’t create an unsettling atmosphere for them.

“Hey…” You whispered as he carefully made his way to you. The moment he was standing right in front of you, neither of you spoke. Both of you are afraid of saying the wrong thing which could potentially lead to another argument. But Sangyeon was smart enough to know not to make unnecessary comments to you after what happened the last time. So instead, he opted for an apology.

“Listen, about that night… I- I’m really sorry… I didn’t... I didn’t know.”

You could only give him a small smile that he could clearly see was weak and almost drained as you spoke up, “It’s okay. Anyways… I think I’m gonna rest.”

He simply nodded, resisting the urge to pull you into a hug and tell you how sorry he was for treating you like crap all these while. These past 3 weeks have made him realise that he wasn’t the nicest of people to you, that he said a lot of things that had definitely hurt you in the past, that he has been nothing but mean to you.

Upon hearing your bedroom door close, Sangyeon lets out a defeated sigh before walking back to his friends who then asked him if everything was okay. After he told them that everything was indeed okay, he plopped back down on the couch but it seemed to worry his friends seeing how sad Sangyeon looked at the moment.

Whenever he was with them, he has always been the goofy, savage, often picking on the others to get a reaction out of them, kind of guy. They’ve never properly seen this softer side of him.

It’s been nearly an hour since you came home and yet, he hasn’t caught a single glimpse of you anywhere. He got worried for you, not knowing whether you’ve eaten or not. So he decided to check on you. He got up from the ground to excuse himself, telling them to just continue what they were doing.

When he arrived at your supposedly shared bedroom, he found you seated on the window couch just staring into the night sky. However, before he could even knock on the door and push it wider, he heard soft sobs from you that gradually grew louder. He stayed by the door and unintentionally listened to your whispers.

“I miss you mum… I’m sorry if I couldn’t live up to my promise just like you wanted me to. I know I’m not the best wife to him, but I’m trying… I’m trying… for you. I wish you were still here beside me. To guide me on how to be a good wife. To love someone without feeling trapped. To love someone the way you and dad loves me. I’m so sorry mum… I’m so truly sorry…”

Sangyeon’s heart shattered into a million pieces for you. That’s when he realized that his feelings for you had changed. That all he wanted to do right at this very moment was to protect you. You were broken, fragile and yet, he’s been treating you horribly all these while.

He couldn’t take it any longer. With that being said, he carefully and quietly made his way to you. Not making a sound as you had your head buried in your knees, cries getting louder the closer he came to you. However, when you felt his soft hands caress the sides of your arms, you looked up. Your eyes glistened under the moonlight, your cheeks soaked with your freshly falling tears.

At that moment, you looked so vulnerable.

So when he pulled you into his embrace, you easily let him. Burying your face into his chest as he gently rubs circles onto your back, caressing your head comfortingly.

After a few seconds of silence, you finally whispered against his chest. Just loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough that nobody standing outside the door could hear.

“I miss her Sangyeon…”

Sangyeon wasn’t sure how to respond to your confession but he tried as best as he could to make you feel better.

“And I know that she misses you too. But it’s okay, she will always be with you. You’ll be okay… I promise.” He whispered and almost immediately, you pulled back as he frowned in confusion.

“You shouldn’t promise me anything…” You said, your tears slowly getting lesser and lesser by the minute.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the last time someone made me a promise, they promised me that they’ll be okay and that they’ll never leave me… And yet she did...” Your voice hushed. He could tell that that was your trauma. Making promises.

He felt a tear threatening to roll down his cheek but he managed to hold back. Sangyeon softly reached up to cup your face and caress your cheeks with both thumbs before he spoke up, “I’m sorry she did. I’m sorry that promise got broken. But it’s not her fault. You know it wasn’t. So let me make a promise to you now and this time, it won’t be broken.”

With that being said, you cried even harder as he just pulled you against his chest almost cradling you like a child. After almost 20 minutes in the room, he finally let go of your fragile figure and asked if you wanted to eat.

You told him you weren’t hungry and that you just wanted to rest. Sangyeon nodded, bringing you to the bed as he carefully tucked you in to make you cosy. He was about to leave you alone when you grabbed his wrists. Sangyeon turned around with such a soft gaze on you, it nearly melted you.

“Where are you going?” You asked with a soft voice, almost shy. Sangyeon found it so endearing that he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“I’m gonna go back to the boys and maybe call it a night early.” He smiled, to which you felt his other hand come to wrap its fingers around your extended wrist, gently pulling it away before caressing the back of your wrist with his thumb.

“Can you come back after… please?” You whispered as you saw him smile again before putting your hand down on the mattress softly.

“I will.”

Soon enough, Sangyeon left you in the room to rest for a bit while he went back to his friends and relayed the message to them. Thankfully, the boys were very understanding. They told Sangyeon to send their well wishes to you in which he definitely would. After they left, Sangyeon went ahead and cleared the leftover trash.

Silently thanking the boys for cleaning most of the mess up before he even came back into the living room. He was almost done cleaning, not forgetting to brush his teeth before going back to your room only to find you already asleep with your back facing the door.

Sangyeon couldn’t help but smile as he closed the door behind him and soon made his way quietly to the other side of the room.

He carefully pulled the duvet up, climbing into bed after putting the duvet back down.

He very gently lifted your head up to let his right arm slide under your neck as a pillow, proceeding to pull your body closer against his chest. Once you were both in a comfortable position, he gently wrapped his other hand around your waist. Caressing your side in a comforting manner.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He whispered as he soon drifted off into slumber.

Ever since then, both of you had stopped the constant arguments. You weren’t always annoyed by every little thing the other did. In school, when you’d accidentally bump into one another, either one would smile and acknowledge the other. Some people who witnessed this, found it strange but your close friends didn’t.

It’s been a good 4 months since you’d reconciled with Sangyeon. Though there were disagreements at times, those arguments would however, be resolved as quickly as it came.

But one thing’s for sure, is that during the past 4 months, you and Sangyeon had slowly found yourselves falling for each other. Neither of you said it out loud, but apparently those around you could visibly tell. Especially your friends.

It was a Thursday afternoon, you and the girls were just walking to the lunch hall when Lisa spotted Sangyeon and his friends just walking down the main building. It seems like they were heading towards the lunch hall as well. With that being said, Lisa called out to Sangyeon’s name, causing him and the rest to turn.

The minute Sangyeon’s eyes locked on Lisa’s and then on you, his gaze softened as you saw the corner of his lips curving upwards into a cute smirk.

They stopped walking to let you girls catch up and once you did, Lisa immediately went to Juyeon and began talking to him casually. The other girls went to walk with the rest while you came to a quick stop beside Sangyeon before you continued walking with the others ahead of you.

“How was class?” He asked, his arm accidentally brushing against yours as you walked further down the building.

“Horrible. Can you believe he wants us to submit 10 codes by the end of this week? I swear that man wants me dead.” You groaned in annoyance, only to hear him chuckle. But what he said next, caught you by surprise.

“But I don’t want you dead.”

With that, you turned to him as a small smile appeared on your face despite the frown you had. Both of you walked in silence, just basking in the conversations of your friends when you felt a soft tickling feeling on your fingers.

You glanced down to see that his hand was playfully brushing against your fingers, making you look up to catch him already staring at you.

Sangyeon smiled at you innocently, not sure if he wanted to say anything else until he felt you slide your hand into his, lacing your fingers with his easily. Now it was his turn to look down and then back up at you. All he did was chuckle, a sound you could definitely get used to.

A week passed and it was finally the weekend. You and Sangyeon didn’t have anything planned for the day.

Or at least you thought.

You were just lounging on the couch on a beautiful Saturday evening when Sangyeon came over to plop down beside you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“You’re oddly happy? What’s going on?” You asked with a raise of your eyebrow.

“I have a surprise for you but you have to go get ready okay?”

“Get ready? It’s already 7 o’clock. Where can we go?” You asked but all you got was a soft whine from him telling you to just do it. You opted to listen as he reminded you to wear prettily. You weren’t sure where you were going so you didn’t want to either overdress or underdress.

So you opted for simple denim skinny jeans, a baby blue sleeveless top, a white long knit cardigan and a pair of beige chunky heeled sandals.

When you left your shared bedroom to go to the living room, you were surprised to see him dressed handsomely in his black skinny jeans, a white button down shirt with the first few buttons undone, along with a navy blue bomber jacket. You saw him look at your outfit from head to toe, only for him to smirk playfully at you.

“Damn, who knew my wife could look this beautiful?” Sangyeon teased, making you giggle.

“Sangyeon, I literally wear jeans everyday.”

“Exactly.”

When you realized what he was trying to say, you soon found yourself blushing as you walked over to him and gently slapped his chest with your hand. Urging him to go before you slapped that cute smirk off his face.

Sangyeon couldn’t help but laugh but nonetheless left the house in his matte black Bentley. You watched as he drove down the street, bringing you to a part of the city where you don’t remember going to before in your life. The car ride was filled with jokes and laughter coming from both of you. He distracted you too much to the point where you didn’t even notice you were already at the location he wanted to bring you.

You looked out the window and that’s when you realize, “Is this an outdoor cinema?” You gasped when you saw the open field with a large screen at the centre, along with the endless rows of couples seated on their own blankets with snacks and drinks of their preferences.

“Sangyeon… This is…” You were speechless and he could see.

He chuckled as he just stared at you with such endearment in his eyes. Some people would just call it love.

“It’s wonderful.” You finally got to finish your sentence, turning to him with a smile.

“I’m glad you think so. Now let’s go! The movie’s about to start.”

Two hours had passed and you were now a few minutes in of the second movie. You noticed some couples were starting to get comfortable on their blankets. You were starting to get tired just sitting up straight and Sangyeon noticed your subtle shifts, desperate to find a comfortable sitting position.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’m okay, just a little tired from sitting up.” You explained with a bashful little smile. Just then, Sangyeon thought of an idea that was completely beyond your imagination.

Hence, when he patted the space in between his legs, you glanced down and then back at him who was seen smiling softly to you. None of it was making you feel creeped out. In fact, you felt safe and that you could trust him. After all, he was your husband anyways. Of course you trust him.

“Come here.” He said as he stared at you calmly. He wasn’t sure if you were entirely up for this but before he could take his words back, that’s when he saw you carefully crawling towards the space he patted earlier.

Once you were seated in front of him, Sangyeon scooted forward a little before he slid his arms around your waist.

He soon pulled you against his chest, before he whispered in your ear, “Comfortable?”

You turned your head to look at him but instead got slightly flustered by the close proximity that led you to feeling his lips accidentally brush against your own. You got quiet for a moment, praying that he didn’t hear the way your heart was pounding against your chest.

You couldn’t trust your voice so you opted for a soft hum to answer his question. The next few minutes, you found yourself getting more and more comfortable in his arms, putting your hands on top of his forearms as you unconsciously caressed his skin in a calming manner. All the while, Sangyeon was behind you, completely distracted from the movie in front of him.

Instead, his mind was fuzzy with how close you were to him at that very moment. This was something he never thought would happen back when he was still young.

But now that he was here with you, just cuddling at an outdoor movie theatre, he couldn’t help but want more of this. Sangyeon found himself smiling as he couldn’t help but give your sides a gentle squeeze, telling you that he was there with you and that he would never leave you.

Thankfully, you got the silent message.

Because right after he did that, you turned your head to look at him. His eyes held the galaxy. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes.

Both of you were silent but it wasn’t awkward. You didn’t know what came over you but a sense of confidence washes over you. With that being said, you carefully leaned forward to close the gap and soon pressed your lips on his.

To say he was taken aback slightly, is definitely an understatement.

But it took him less than 3 seconds to finally move his lips against yours in a smooth rhythm. You brought your right hand up to gently cup his face as you kissed him.

Sangyeon tightens his hold on you, pulling away from the kiss only to look into your eyes with such adoration. He wasn’t sure if now was the right time to express his feelings for you, but he thought, what was there to lose. So with that thinking, Sangyeon took a small breath before he uttered the 3 words he never thought he’d say to you but he did. And every single word he said at that moment, was as sincere as ever.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at him before you kissed him again in a longing kiss before pulling away and replying to him with the exact emotions you felt for him genuinely.

“I love you too, Sangyeon.”

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz sangyeon #lee sangyeon #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz x reader #sangyeon x reader #tbz sangyeon scenarios #the boyz sangyeon scenarios #tbz sangyeon fluff #tbz sangyeon angst

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amelee23 · 4 years ago

Text

Fool | J. YH

Genre: Fluff

Tags: Best friends to lovers, Suggestive themes and sexual jokes, Wooyoung is an accidental wingman, Nerdy gamers having at it, A lot of Need for Speed references

No. Words: 3.5k

⭐⭐⭐

She always loved when they got completely absorbed in their little bubble - engrossed in what was making them tick in the most passionate of ways. Since Yunho came to pick her up and take her to the dorm, she didn’t even realize when they got there - or even that the house was empty - because they were too caught in a conversation about the new-coming video games of 2021. The small task of taking off shoes or their jackets, the walk to Yunho’s room and the struggle to get comfortable in the gaming chair; these were not memories in her mind. All she could remember was the way he smiled without stop and the sparkle in his eyes as excitement took over his entire being.

Only after Yunho told her he’s been playing old games lately - specifically racing classics, of the Need For Speed series - had she realized the house was too quiet. Yunho then informed her they all left to eat at a restaurant with the manager team, but he asked to be left behind so he could spend time with his best friend. She couldn’t help the warm smile raising her lips at the sweet sacrifice this man made for her.

A few minutes later and she felt the usual competitive side of her kick in, seeing Yunho with a controller in hand, playing Need for Speed: Underground 2, a game she remembered dearly from her childhood. She couldn’t help but feel she could do so much better than him - and that’s how the challenge came to be.

“Yeah, you want to bet?” Yunho suggested, his cheeks raised in a cheeky smile, but his lips expressed something a lot more smug.

“2 out of 3: sprint, Street X and drift.” The boy laughed at his best friend’s confidence, finding her determination very charming, like always.

“Deal.” He announced, raising his hand so she could high five the deal to completion. It never failed to amaze him, how gentle her high fives felt to him, even though she’s the only woman he’s ever seen break a controller before. “What are we betting on, money?”

“Money is boring.” Taken aback, Yunho had a healthy laugh at her statement. He couldn’t wait to say this sentence again, out of context, and turn it into both teasing material and an inside joke.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” He asked, still cackling with a half lidded eye smile.

“Let’s do something more… daring.” Trying to act surprised, Yunho opened his eyes in curiosity and hummed. They both got to thinking for about a minute, then she snapped her fingers exaggeratedly to show she had an idea. “Let’s randomly ask Wooyong to give the loser a punishment!”

“Like, with no context?”

“Exactly! After one of us loses, we ask Wooyong to give out a spicy punishment-! No one would be better than him at coming up with something totally ridiculous that one of us will regret for a lifetime!”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. But I’m starting to think you’re a masochist.”

“It’s a 50/50 gamble, so who knows?” She rebutted, wiggling her eyebrows at Yunho suggestively. He could feel his ears heating up so he pretended to need to face his computer for a while. “So, what do you say?” She questioned him, moving closer to where he was, probably intentionally, because she knew how to tell when he was turning shy.

“I say you’re both crazy and a genius … a crazy genius. But I’m all on board.”

“Yas, leggo baby!” Yunho shook his head as he took in the image of his best friend leaning back into her chair, controller in hands, legs somewhere in between the right armrest and the air. Her enthusiasm dripped from the way she was grooving to the OST of the game. Warmth and an electricity-like feeling began filling his chest.

It took them perhaps a little too long to decide on the first track to play. Eventually, after long minutes of bickering, they chose a winding long race and swore to not try to mess the other up.

Yunho was the first one to drive, his engine roaring as he continued to hold his acceleration button. He had some lucky escapes from running into traffic - and easily overcame his competition. Now in front, he was taking short cut turns, but to her, they looked too time consuming. Yunho was trying to drive as properly as possible, and it was affecting his time; she couldn’t help but puff up as she realized it would be an easy win against him. With a record of 2:27:34, Yunho rolled his chair away from the screen and let his best friend take over.

Hands grasping the controller, she took a deep breath to overly-dramatize the situation even further.

“Eat my dust.” She mumbled, and Yunho gave her a curious side eye.

Swiftly she overtook all the NPCs, climbing up to first place. She wasn’t even worried about them to begin with. As the turns approached, Yunho realized she wasn’t showing signs of taking her fingers away from the acceleration button - not until the last second, at least. Her turns were either taken with the help of crashing into a wall or into a stylish, speedy drift. Yunho was baffled, thinking that crashing on purpose to finish faster should be considered as cheating. But he accepted his defeat as her time was 2:14:58, over ten seconds less than him.

Cracking her knuckles, she wore a smug smile as she let Yunho choose the next race for them to play. It was 1 to 0 currently, so he decided he should spice things out now - by choosing a ‘random’ Street X race. He probably forgot to mention to her that Street X were his forte in this game.

Yunho put his focus face on from the moment the cars showed up on screen. For most, this Street X race was difficult to even beat on first place - but he knew what he was doing.

“I hope you had your fun.” He threatened, hands moving effortlessly on the controller to take him through the sharp, abrupt turns which were in Street X - a race type specifically made about taking those turns right, not about speed. Raw talent was dripping off of his fingers, but she didn’t want to feel discouraged just yet. Perhaps her method of using walls to take turns could work here, too-

Now that it was her turn, she realized it wasn’t the case - in here hitting walls was the worst thing you could do. Eyes dashing in between her car and the timer non-stop, she realized she was losing a lot of time correcting her direction if she didn’t brake properly before a turn. By the last lap, she already lost hope, as she reached Yunho’s record and wasn’t done with the race yet.

“Tight game.” She stated, trying to ease the thick competitive air in the room. Yunho just smiled, a sparkle of something naughty in his eyes.

“Would you like to do the honours?” He asked, referring to choosing the drift track, the last race of their competition. He looked so sure of himself, to even offer that she chooses the track; she couldn’t help but feel even more frustrated by that cockyness.

“Yeah.” She answered, not even looking him in the eyes. She knew what track she wanted - the one on the actual streets of the city, which had two off road areas - those were bomb in doing drifts over 50.000 points.

Yunho was surprised she chose such a difficult track, but didn’t really complain. He had recently unlocked this track since he was nearing the end of the game, and so he knew the trick of the off road areas too, especially because he failed them enough times. He collected small drifts here and there on the way to the first special area, then he made sure to catch enough speed to send the back of his car in a beautiful curve, following the form of the turn. He didn’t need to, but he took the risk of connecting that turn to the next one that followed and gathered around 74.000 points in that area only. She was biting her lip, wondering if she still had the nimbleness to beat that.

The next special area gained him about 37.000, and with all the other points collected from smaller drifts, he was able to gain over 130 thousand.

She was already pinching the bridge of her nose, knowing that she would probably lose. It’s been a while since she played this game, and the special drift areas were always a gamble. Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at the tension in her back, giving her a friendly pat to brighten up.

“You got this!” He cheered, because even if he wanted to win, he didn’t like seeing her so discouraged. He often times also got mad when he realized he was being too competitive and not giving anyone a chance to win against him.

She started out just like Yunho, gaining some small scores on the way to the main attraction of the race. As she saw the goal in her eyes, suddenly she struggled to regain control of her car in the midst of the big drift. She was headed straight for the edge, meaning her score would be neutralized if she hit it - so she was forced to stop her car. The special area unfortunately only brought her 55 thousand, a weak number compared to Yunho. She brushed it off and continued on her way, towards the second special area. She had a better feeling about this one, as her car was being much more responsive, and even if the space was smaller, she gained another 50 thousand there too.

But unfortunately, as she hit the finish line, she realized - they both scored in the range of 130 thousand - but hers was exactly that number. Yunho was closer to 140.

With a little dance celebration, Yunho announced he was the winner of the tournament. Seeing him act so goofy, she couldn’t even bring herself to sulk. It’s not like it was unusual for Yunho to win their dumb little competitions, but it would’ve been nice to win one anyway.

“I acknowledge your driving skills, Mr. Jung.” She said with a smirk, offering him a hand to shake.

“You weren’t so bad yourself, well… except the part of taking turns with your face.” Now that the tension was lifted, they were back to being all smiley and supportive of each other.

“What can I say? I like using my head.” Yunho chuckled, grabbing the controller to quit out of the game so he could find some movie to watch while they eat. Remembering that he needed to order some food, he pulled out his phone - and read Wooyoung’s name.

“So… do I need to ask Wooyoung to give you a ‘daring’ punishment?” He used air quotes to express the idea of something naughty. For a while he forgot that this was the penalty of losing, the thought completely slipping his mind as he focused too much on doing well in the game.

“I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders, secretly hoping that he had forgotten and she could’ve avoided doing something so embarrassing.

Hesitant, Yunho opened the messenger app and tapped on Wooyoung’s name. He didn’t know if he was excited about what was about to come.

[Yunho]: Hey Wooyoung, can you come up with a ‘daring’ punishment a girl could do for a guy for losing a game?

[Sent 18:46]

A thick silence enveloped the two as Yunho stared at the screen, waiting for Wooyoung to see his message. They were both hoping the resident jokester of the group would go easy on them this time.

[Seen 18:51]

Five minutes later, Wooyoung saw the message and Yunho watched the three dots dance for a very short amount of time. And, as it turned out, Wooyoung didn’t ask any questions - he gave a straightforward answer.

[Wooyoung]: Oral

His answer had Yunho opening his eyes in pure shock. He glanced at his best friend, who was looking at him expectantly, and then back at the screen.

“Uhm…” He couldn’t even bring himself to mutter such a word to her. Before he knew it, he let his phone down and stared into the distance like a deer in the headlights.

Yes, asking Wooyoung was a bad idea.

“Uhm? Did he answer?” She pressed on, and Yunho couldn’t do much more than nod.

“Look for yourself.” He showed her his phone, and she felt as if she just got hit with a soccer ball in the stomach. Blinking at Yunho in disbelief, she let out a confused puff of air.

“I mean, I expected something like a sexy dance…. But not this. Wooyoung really is another level.” She complained, suddenly looking as lost as Yunho. They both looked like ghosts, the colors drained from their faces.

In truth, both of their heads were racing at that moment - imagining what could happen if they went through with it. Yunho’s face heated up and his body grew heavy, and she was biting her lip. But a common thought was keeping them both grounded; that they were just friends, and nothing more.

Moments later, Yunho was able to collect himself and focus his vision again. She was in distress, even in a haze. He pulled out his phone again, texting Wooyoung to rectify the situation.

[Yunho]: How about something a little bit… more decent. This is my best friend we’re talking about.

Wooyoung read the message instantly after, his fingers fast on the keyboard.

[Wooyoung]: Oh my God it’s her! Why didn’t you tell me! I thought you were finally scoring a lady with those video games of yours!

[Yunho]: I told you guys I was spending time with her today

[Wooyoung]: You did? OOPS

[Yunho]: Yeah, oops. You almost gave me a heart attack

[Wooyoung]: *boner

[Yunho]: DUDE

[Wooyoung]: Okay okay I’m sorry, but you’re the one who asked me outta the blue

[Wooyoung]: Something a little more tame… HMMM

[Wooyoung]: You’re a tall dude, right? How about you have her wear one of your shirts for the rest of the day… but like only your shirt. I bet she’d look cute ;)

[Yunho]: That doesn’t sound that bad, thanks

[Wooyoung]: I can’t wait to get home :P

She dragged her voice suddenly, bringing Yunho back to reality. He didn’t realize how focused he was in his conversation with Wooyoung.

“Uhm, so, yeah! Wooyoung gave you a more tame challenge. He said you should wear one of my shirts for the rest of the day… like, as a dress type thing.” Yunho tried to explain, but he was still nervous from the previous shock and tripping over his own words.

“So wear a boyfriend shirt.” Yunho felt his being vibrate once again at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

“I… guess so.”

“I can do that! That sounds more like a prize than anything, to be honest. You know I have a fixation for your clothes.” She said with a laugh. She seemed to be back to her cheerful self, already walking her way to Yunho’s closet. “Can I choose any shirt?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Still no intonation in his words, Yunho’s mind was not present in the conversation at all. It wasn’t long before he zoned out again.

He couldn’t possibly be attracted to his best friend in such a way. They had a strong spiritual bond, for sure, but it was never anything physical for them. They appreciated each other for who they are, so he never asked himself questions like these before.

Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He heard the door handle move and then saw her come back in, legs bare and sexy, her small frame basically swimming in his large shirt. She sat down on her chair and melted back into it without a care in the world. She looked comfortable, even.

“So, are we ordering that food?” She asked, but in Yunho’s daze, he missed the smirk playing on her lips. If only he knew how much she was enjoying this.

Forcing her to stay put, Yunho was the one to receive the food at the front door. He sighed in relief when he managed to put a blanket over her, as they nestled up in bed to watch a movie and enjoy their food. Out of sight, out of mind, they say.

His torture began again as soon as they got back into gaming - this time choosing to do their usual foolery - playing Minecraft together, one being in charge of the mouse and the other in charge of the keyboard. No wonder they never made any real progress on their world, since they could never be in sync with each other to actually defend themselves from zombies. ‘

Time flew by as they laughed and played, but the rustle of keys at the front door still managed to startle Yunho out of his mind. Panicked, he got up to throw her pants back at her, words leaving his mouth a little too fast.

“How about you put those back on now.” Cocking an eyebrow at him, she hung them on the chair, clearly refusing to do so.

“Why would I? The punishment says for the rest of the day - or as long as I’m here.”

“Yes, but-” Yunho pursed his lips to the side. He didn’t know how to word his thoughts. To add more pressure, the door to his room swung open and San came inside to throw his phone on the bed. He glanced at Yunho’s best friend briefly and they exchanged hellos before he went back to the living room, where the boys were being loud over something.

Yunho breathed out in relief that San was nice enough not to stare. Something about other men seeing her like this irked him, even more so that she was wearing his shirt.

“But?” She urged him to continue speaking, getting off of the chair to stand in front of him. Being the tall guy Yunho was, it wasn’t often that she had the opportunity to stare him down like that. Yunho gulped as he felt his throat dry up, taking in the image of his friend - no, an attractive woman - looking at him with such a suggestive expression.

“I don’t want anyone else to see you like this…” He mumbled, the beauty before his eyes already making him breathless.

“Why not?” She teased.

“Because…” There wasn’t any logical answer in his mind, or even a concrete idea. “I think we need to reevaluate our relationship.” Letting out a healthy laugh, she wasted no time to climb in his lap. Yunho was happy, perhaps the most relieved he’d been the entire day. He didn’t know there was such a sexual tension in between them until it finally dissipated.

“Finally!” She exclaimed.

“You think so too?” She hummed in response, eyes locking with his lips as she did.

The kiss itself felt good - like two magnets clicking into place. What felt even better though, was being able to accept all the feelings he’s been burying deep inside himself. He was wrong in thinking something more wasn’t possible between them.

A loud knock echoed from the door, and Wooyoung’s voice could be heard screaming from the other side.

“You two decent?”

“No!” Yunho yelled back. They certainly weren’t a sight he’d want his bandmates to see - his shirt was hiking up on her thighs, their arms tangled around each other’s bodies.

“What do you mean ‘no’??!” This time it was HongJoong’s voice, and Yunho knew he messed up. Almost effortlessly, he got up with her still around his hips and grabbed her pants on the way to the bathroom.

“Okay, but seriously get dressed now.” Yunho said, and only got a wink from her in response. He rolled his eyes and went back into the room to let her change.

He really was a fool to think this wouldn’t work out - he already loved every second of it.

#Jung Yunho #yunho #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #yunho imagines #yunho fluff #yunho scenarios #yunho Fanfiction #Jung Wooyoung #Ateez smut #Yunho smut #kpop Fanfiction #best friends to lovers

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bellisperennis0 · 4 years ago

Text

Falling For You

Word Count: 1,608

Warning(s): None

A/N: Love confession and a blushing Bishop. Swoon! GIF credit to @trans-am-catie. Thank you for reading and Enjoy! 🖤

Anonymous asked: Hi lovely ☺️ possibly 27, 28, 29 from the fluff list with bishop please? Him blushing and really fluffy in his feelings for reader, and he hasn’t felt like that in while and he comes clean about them. Thank you so much!! I love how you write him ❤️ ❤️

Showing up to the Clubhouse after your shift, you had expected the normal Club party to be well under way, but were surprised to see the Clubhouse this quiet for a typical Friday night.

Walking in, you were even more surprised to see most of the guys were gone as well.

“Hey, Boy scout. Where is everyone?” you ask as you make your way towards the bar, giving him a hug.

“They all went home. The run kind of took everything out of us.” He says giving you a reassuring smile.

“Everyone whole?” you ask in concern.

“Everyone’s whole. He’s in the office.” He tells you as he points towards the Templo door.

You give him another hug, thanking him and sending him home for the night.

Gently sliding the door open you step in, taking in the sight of Bishop in his seat at the head of the table, head in his hands, bottle of whiskey and an empty glass sitting not too far from him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask as you lean against the doorframe, watching as he lifts his head to look up at you. Your heart slightly clenching as you can see the worry and exhaustion all over his face.

“Hay, sweetheart.” He says as he does his best to give you a convincing smile.

“Anything I can do?” you ask as you take the seat next to him.

He just shakes his head as he sits back in his seat, “You just being here is enough.”

You both sit there in a comfortable silence until Bishop’s raspy voice breaks you out of your daydream.

“Want to go for a ride?” he asks you as he stands up, giving you his hand to take.

“Yeah. Yeah that would be nice.” You smile as you take his hand.

----------

The ride with Bishop led you back to your place, as it almost always does. Walking out to the back porch, you hand Bishop another beer, before taking your seat across from him.

“Are you alright, Obispo? You don’t seem yourself tonight?” you ask him with concern laced in your voice.

Reaching over, he takes your hand into his, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles, “I will be. Don’t worry your pretty little heart about it.” He tells you as he brings your hand to his lips, placing a gently kiss against your knuckles.

“Well, you know if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to be there and listen, I’m always here.” You tell him, giving him a smile.

He returns your smile, “I know, sweetheart. Thank you!”

“You want to know something, Bish?” you suddenly ask, looking at him over your mug as you take a sip of your tea.

Bishop looks at you for a moment. He raises an eyebrow and speaks. “What’s that, sweetheart?” He slowly asks.

You smile and say, “Your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, your brain catches up with what your heart had said. “Shit! Obispo I am so sorry, I didn’t- I mean- I didn’t mean to say that it just kind of came out on its own and- Fuck I’m so so sorry. I...” You stopped as you looked at Bishop, just staring at him for a second. You slowly spoke. “Are you...Are you blushing?” you asked, with a hint of disbelief in your voice.

Bishop’s eyes grew wide as he did his best to avoid your gaze. “What? No, no, of course not.”

Even though he tried his hardest to play it off, you had already seen his rosy cheeks and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You smile, your fears now forgotten and replaced with confidence. Bishop wasn’t freaking out and hadn’t stormed off. Maybe this was a good sign.

“Did I - Did I get the ever hardcore, stoic, total badass MC Presidente to blush?” you teased, your confidence and certainty growing.

You watched as Bishop scrambled for something to say, a way to defend himself. “No, its - its - the cold.” He lied. You watched as he slightly cringed at his own words. For starters, Santo Padre didn’t know what cold was. Second, it was the beginning of summer, and even at 3 in the morning, it was insanely hot. Bishop doing everything in his power to avoid your gaze.

Your smirk grew, knowing full well what a blatant lie Bishop just told. You figured you’ll go along with it for shits and giggles. “The cold, huh? You sure it wasn’t the fact I told you your face is freaking adorable and I bet the rest of you is too?” You said with amusement lacing every word.

Bishop’s cheeks growing redder, “N-no!” he said as his voice cracked.

You laughed wholeheartedly and loud. After calming down to just soft giggles, you looked over at Bishop. “Oh, I’m sorry I made the big bad biker blush!” you chuckled as you take another sip of your tea. Bishop's just eyeing you with a smirk on his face as he takes a swig of his beer.

“Can I be completely truthful with you, Obispo?” you asked him with sincerity. Clearing his throat, he sits up straight as he nods.

“Of course, querida. You can tell me anything.” He tells you, placing his hand over yours on the table.

Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, “I like you Bishop, like, a lot, a lot. More than I think I have ever liked anyone before. I like you more than just a ‘You’d be an awesome fuck’ kind of way, I… I want us to be more than this… whatever this is. I know you may not feel the same way, and, that’s - that’s fine. I… I don’t want to pressure you into anything. If you don’t like me in that way, we can keep being friends; at least I hope we can keep being friends. Fuck, I hope I didn’t completely fuck everything up. I didn’t mess this all up, right?” you finished in one breath, looking over at Bishop with poorly concealed worry all over your face.

Bishop just stared at you in awe, you can tell he was processing everything you just spewed out at him, wrapping his head around the fact that you just said you liked him, that you wanted to be with him - an actual relationship with him.

You slowly felt yourself become more and more nervous, the fear setting in again. Waving your hand in Bishop’s face to get his attention, “Uh, you okay, Bish? Kind of freaking me out!” Bishop looked at you, still piecing together everything you had told him.

Bishop’s face flushed again, and he fumbled over his words, trying his best to compose himself. “I–you-wha - huh?” was all he got out. You had the once clearheaded man completely and utterly baffled.

“I know I spit out a lot just now, but I said that I like you Bishop. Would like to know where you stand here?” you chuckled to hide the fact that inside you were completely panicking.

Bishop rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. “Okay, so, you like me… as in, you want to start a relationship… right?” he asked slowly, as though he was making sure he wasn’t misunderstanding the whole situation.

Your smile grew wider, trying your hardest to seem calm, like this was just a normal everyday conversation and not an awkward, albeit heartfelt, confession of love. “Yeah, exactly what I said.”

Bishop took a swig of his beer and leaned back in his seat, holding his breath for a moment before exhaling. All you could think was that this was it, this is where he completely rejects you. “[y/n]…” he began slowly, “I… I’ll be completely honest with you…” yep, here it comes, total rejection.

“I don’t like you… Because I love you.”

Quickly shooting up from your seat, taking a deep breath and exhaling, as you take a couple steps back, “Yeah, sorry, I knew the feelings weren’t reciprocated, that’s why I never said anything, it was stupid and -“ You were startled out of your rambling by a hand landing on you shoulder.

Lifting your head, you saw Bishop looking at you, amusement in his eyes. He had a serene smile on his face and he whispered, “Querida, did you hear anything I just said?” you just stared back at Bishop, bewilderment written all over your face.

“I just told you I loved you.” He said as he watched you take in his words.

Your eyes widened and this time it was your turn to blush, “Oh… OHHH!” you looked down at your feet, until Bishop gently placed his hand under your chin, lifting your head up so you were looking at him. You both looked directly into each other eyes, the raw emotions you each held for each other clear.

Slowly inching closer till your lips clashed together. You slowly melted into his kiss, eyes sliding shut and a content hum leaving your throat. You felt like you could stay in this moment of security forever. Both pulling apart rather reluctantly, standing there soaking in the love you held for each other.

Bishop gently caressed your cheek as he smiled down at you, “Can I stay here tonight?”

You smiled back at him, “That would be nice. And for the record, I love you to.” You tell him. He smiles down at you before his lips were taking yours. Kissing you harder, deeper, with a fervent, urgent need you’ve never known before.

--xx

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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yourfavewriteress · 5 years ago

Text

insane | tyler seguin

Teaser: “I am so fucking into you, everyone here knows except you.”

“Hey,” I heard from behind me. “What’re you doing out here?”

I quickly wiped my eyes, turning around on the bench on Tyler’s porch. “Hey, I was just getting some fresh air.”

“Fresh air? It’s freezing out here,” Tyler said. “And you don’t even have a jacket on.”

“I’m fine,” I responded. Tyler sat next to me, leaning his head back before turning to me.

“Katie said you’ve been out here for a while.” Tyler and I had met almost a year ago when we were both at a hotel in Boston, him for his hockey game against the Bruins and me for a friend’s wedding. I may or may not have mistaken his room for mine which stated a great friendship. When we ran into each once again in the elevator, Tyler would not stop talking. Once we found out that we both lived in Dallas, we exchanged numbers and have been friends ever since.

“Yeah, not really up for a party tonight,” I said, looking back at the sky.

“You don’t have to stay,” He said.

“You asked me to,” I said. “Plus, who’s going to make sure you actually clean up?”

“True,” He smiled. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think you want to hear about my problems,” I let out a laugh.

“I do,” Tyler responded. “If you’ll tell me.”

“I just, sometimes I feel like this period of my life is never going to end.”

“What period?”

“This single, lonely, and miserable period,” I sighed. “Everyone in there is so freaking happy with their partners and I just feel like I’m never gonna get to experience that.”

“Mhm,” Tyler trailed off, urging me to continue.

“For once, I just want someone to like me, and care about me, and make me feel good. Every single person I’ve liked has never liked me back. Not once. I can’t catch a break and I don’t think I ever will,” I mumbled. “I don’t know what it is about me, but clearly I’m the problem.”

“You’re not,” Tyler said.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, I’ll just have to come to terms with it,” I shrugged. “This just really sucks because the one thing I’ve always dreamed of is being in love, and getting married, having kids. Just fucking stupid dreams that this universe just likes to throw in my face.”

“What brought this up?” He asked quietly.

“It never goes away.”

“I didn’t know you felt like this. All the time?” He asked.

“Pretty much,” I nodded slowly, feeling my eyes water again.

“Y/N,” Tyler sighed, moving so that he was facing me on the bench. “I feel really bad for forcing you to come out tonight.”

“Don’t,” I said. He reached up, wiping my eyes.

“But, you’re insane.”

“How?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“You’re not the problem, and there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Like I said, Tyler. I don’t need you to feel bad for me or say anything to try to make me feel better. Not everyone experiences happiness.”

“You will,” He said.

“What makes you so sure?”

“You,” He whispered. “There’s no way someone like you is not gonna have someone wrapped around their finger.”

I laughed. “Whatever, Tyler.”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because I’m not an idiot,” I responded. “The fact is, I’m 27, and I’ve been single since college. I’ve never once had a guy truly like me for me and want to stick around.”

“So you think.”

“So I know,” I furrowed my eyebrows. “What’re you talking about?”

“I know you’re oblivious but come on,” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve basically been in love with you since we met.”

“Tyler, what are you even saying right now?”

“That I’m in love with you, and the reason why I forced you to come tonight was so that I could finally grow a pair and tell you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Y/N, I don’t know what the fuck was wrong with the guys you liked, but I am so fucking into you, everyone here knows except you.”

I blushed, looking away from him. “I can’t believe you, Tyler Seguin.”

“And I can’t believe you,” He responded. “You are, by far, one of the most well-rounded people I know. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and a fucking catch. I’m not letting you leave until you understand that.”

“You can’t hold me hostage.”

“You know me, and you know I will.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I finally looked back at him.

“Because, we’re friends, and I felt like that’s how you wanted to keep things and I always want to respect what you want,” He started. “But then I couldn’t really stop thinking about you. There have been so many times where I just wanted to facetime you, to see your face and I had to keep reminding myself that we’re just friends.”

“I just told you my biggest insecurity. Do you still like me now?” I joked.

“Even more,” He said. “The fact that you don’t even see how amazing you are baffles me, don’t get me wrong.”

“Tyler, I’m really insecure,” I admitted. “That’s not something you want to deal with.”

“I want to deal with you,” He responded. “And everything about you. I want to be the one who makes you feel how you’re supposed to feel.”

“Tyler.”

“I’m serious,” He admitted. “I know I’m always joking around but one thing that’s not funny is how I feel about you. And I mean that.”

“You ca-“ I started but was cut off by someone from the party.

“-Hey, Tyler? So, um, I think someone might have made a pretty big spill.”

“Of what?” Tyler asked.

“I don’t know,” The guy shrugged.

“Alright, I’m coming,” He said. The guy nodded before going back inside.

“You’re gonna stay right?” He asked me. “So we can talk?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Do you want to just go to my room? It’s cold out here and no ones up there. you’ll be alone.”

“You don’t mind?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna even answer that because you know what I’m gonna say. Here’s the key.”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to me. I stood up, looking up at him.

“I’ll come get you when everyone’s gone, yeah?”

“Okay,” I responded. He stared at me for a few seconds before walking around me.

“I have to go inside or I’ll kiss you in front of everyone.”

I blushed, laughing slightly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He turned around, stopping in his steps. “What?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged, walking past him.

“Yeah, add annoying to the list of your traits.” I heard from behind me. I turned around to a smiling Tyler.

“See you later.” I made my way upstairs to Tyler’s room, closing the door behind me. I looked around the room and sat on his bed. I have been in Tyler’s room before, but that was when we were just friends, nothing more. At least, that’s what I thought.

I didn’t know what to think about Tyler. Of course, when we met, I hoped that something romantic would happen, but we got comfortable being friends and hanging out in group settings. We developed a friendship and I thought there was no way someone like him could like someone like me. I mean, he’s a professional hockey player, one of the most popular ones, and I’m, well, me. Nothing special. How the hell could he be in love with me?

The Next Morning

When I woke up the next morning, I had somehow made my way under Tyler’s covers and my shoes were off. The last thing I remembered was sitting on the bed on my phone. I scanned the room, searching for Tyler who was nowhere to be found. I pushed the covers off of my body and slid out of the bed. I used the bathroom quickly before making my way downstairs.

I could hear the barking of the dogs outside, so I knew Tyler was still here. When I turned into the kitchen, seeing Tyler looking in the fridge.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hi,” Tyler smiled as he turned around. “How did you sleep?”

“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” I said. “Where did you sleep?”

“On the floor next to you,” He shrugged. “I made breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, I have to eat and so do you so,” He slid a plate over the counter to me.

“Thank you,” I said.

We ate in silence for a few moments before Tyler spoke up.

“So, how’re you feeling about last night?”

“Uhm,” I said, wiping my mouth. I walked around the island, moving closer to Tyler. “You meant everything you said, right? It wasn’t some prank?”

“Of course not, I would never do that you,” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Good,” I said. I leaned up, wrapping my arms around Tyler’s neck and pressing my lips to his. He kissed back almost immediately, wrapping his arms around my waist.

After a few seconds, I pulled away.

“That was, uhm-“

“-insane,” I finished. “I’ve never been kissed liked that.”

“Well, technically, you kissed me.” I slapped his stomach. “But that was pretty special.”

“I have no idea how to do this, tyler.”

“Neither do i. But I know that I’d rather learn with you than anyone else.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this.”

“Look, we’re friends first, right? That’s not gonna change. I’m still here whenever you need me, we just get to kiss now.”

I rolled my eyes. “yeah, that’s gonna be the only change.”

“We’re gonna be fine.”

“We have to go slow,” I mumbled.

“Understood,” He said. “You don’t have to worry about anything, Y/N. I’ve already been threatened by half the team once they figured out I liked you.”

“I’m sure,” I laughed. “I have to head home, I have an appointment later.”

“You want to hang out tonight?” He asked. “A movie or something?”

“Yeah, that’ll be nice. 9?”

“That’s kind of late, I thought we were taking it slow,” He joked.

“Shut up, tyler,” I responded, putting my jacket on.

“Text me when you get home?”

I nodded. Tyler grabbed my face, leaning down and kissing me softly.

“Couldn’t let you go without that,” He mumbled. I blushed, kissing his cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight, Ty.”

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phroyd · 4 years ago

Link

In the decades since the death of Frank Zappa, scores of film-makers had approached his wife and business partner Gail about making a documentary about the star. “They got an infinite amount of noes,” said their son Ahmet Zappa to the Guardian. “None of them had the right approach.”

That is, until actor and director Alex Winter made a different pitch. “I wasn’t interested in making a typical music documentary about some rock star guitar hero,” he said. “I was interested in who Frank Zappa was as a man and his relationship to his art and the world around him. What were his values and struggles? And I wanted to be honest about his contradictions, of which there were many.

“In Zappa-land,” he said, “everything is paradoxical.”

The resulting film, titled Zappa, presents a nuanced and authoritative portrait of an artist who may have spoken prodigiously to the media during his lifetime about his music and politics but who remained oddly aloof as a person. It helped immeasurably in forming a fuller portrait of the man that Gail Zappa not only gave Winter free access to the gigantic vault of his music and video work, but also spoke for the film in the months before she herself died in 2015 of lung cancer. (Frank died of prostate cancer 22 years before). When Gail started talking to Winter she knew she was sick. So he began filming even before he got financing for the project. Crucially, he also secured final cut of the film from the Zappa estate, which is run by the four children, with Ahmet at the helm. “We wanted this to be a warts-and-all portrait,” Ahmet Zappa said. “This was Alex’s point of view.”

But even with that access, it wasn’t easy for Winter to get to the heart of Zappa, a man who always conveyed a bulletproof confidence in his own vision and philosophy. “I was really interested in getting behind that mask,” Winter said.

To do so, he went back to the artist’s beginning, aided by footage of a young Zappa with his mother and father, to whom he bore a striking resemblance, as well as to old tapes of him talking about his childhood fascinations. A treasured toy for Frank growing up was a gas mask. His father worked at a company that manufactured poison materials during the second world war. Frank also became fascinated with chemicals, putting them to pointed use as a teenager. “I tried to set fire to the high school,” he said in vintage footage.

Zappa first became attracted to music after encountering a collection of work composed by Edgard Varèse that was described as “literally the most frightening, evil, vile thing a human being could listen to”, Zappa recalled.

“I couldn’t understand why people didn’t love it the minute they heard it,” he said.

Zappa became equally attracted to the grinding blues of Elmore James and Johnny “Guitar” Watson, but when he picked up a guitar and taught himself to play in emulation, his parents sternly discouraged him. Likewise, when he formed his first band, a racially mixed unit that slammed out hard R&B, the local California community viewed them “as a threat to decency”.

Undaunted, Zappa began making scores of recordings for himself and others, including a sketchy guy who wanted him to make a soundtrack for his stag party. The result, though utterly un-erotic, wound up getting the young musician busted by the vice squad who threw him in jail. “That really knocked him on his ass,” Winter said. “It woke him up to how much animosity there was towards someone like him, just for being him.”

At the same time, Zappa had the savvy to locate the right musicians to flesh out his aural aspirations. In 1965, he formed the first Mothers of Invention, a unit that didn’t sound or act like any other band of the time. Besides their unusual music, they mocked the emerging hippie movement, the trendy drug culture, as well as the larger art world around them. “Frank didn’t adhere to any movements,” Winter said.

He also didn’t interact with his band members in the usual way. “This wasn’t a bunch of guys who came together and made decisions equally,” Ahmet Zappa said. “Frank was the magician, and the band were his magical tool belt of people who could play the kind of music he was writing.”

Frank Zappa performing with the Mothers of Invention. Photograph: Cal Schenkel

According to those who played with him, Zappa was hardly the warmest of leaders. “I don’t ever remember him embracing anybody,” ex-Mother Bunk Gardner said in the film. According to Winter, “he could be a martinet. All of the musicians had varying degrees of resentment or unresolved issues with the way he just dispatched people after working with them. At the same time, they all looked at the period when they worked with him as the most fruitful of their artistic lives.”

Zappa could be equally chilly in his dealings with women. In the film, a friend of Gail’s recalls that, just after Frank met her, he told the friend “tell her if she wants to fuck, she’ll have to come over”.

But their marriage became a powerful, loving and enduring one, lasting for the rest of the musician’s life. There was, however, a caveat. Zappa carved out his own life within the framework of the marriage. “When Frank was on the road, he lived his life like a rock star,” Ahmet said. “He was a real cock-smith. When I asked my mother about it, I got this strange look.”

“People are human and it hurts, and she says so in the film,” Winter said. “There’s no doubt he was a sexist.”

Zappa had an unusual relationship with his children as well. On the one hand, they were “a primary source of his entertainment”, Ahmet said. “When he was with you, you had his entire attention.”

But, by dint of his obsession with work, he spent far more of his time on the road or recording music than with his family. He also spent lots of time of giving interviews for a practical reason. Zappa knew he was far more likely to get attention for his provocative quotes than for his music, which many found difficult, if not baffling. Even some who considered themselves fans of his didn’t understand Zappa’s intention, viewing him, reductively, as just an eccentric guitar God with freak appeal. In fact, said Winter, “Frank wasn’t a rock musician at all. He was just using different genres in the service of his work as an avant-garde composer.”

‘When Frank was on the road, he lived his life like a rock star.’ Photograph: Dan Carlson

Still, in order to turn that rarefied role into a sustained career, Zappa had to draw on another key part of his character – as a realist. While he had contempt for the way business can corrupt art, he became his own kind of businessman – and a surprisingly adept one, running a long-running indie label for his music and video work along with his wife. “He and Gail were operating their own mom and pop boutique,” Winter said. “They had to be incredibly clever and resourceful.”

In order to pull that off, Zappa also felt he had to be combative. In his view, it was him and his family against the world, a stance which exacerbated his public image as smug and condescending. Even the most rare and intimate footage in the documentary never catches Zappa conveying a whiff of conventional vulnerability. Still, Winter believes there was more openness to both the musician, and to his work, than it seems on the surface. “He’s not singing or talking about his pain the way John Lennon did,” the director said, “but Frank is still a very personal artist in the sense that he was always focused on chronicling his life experience. He was pouring out his soul in his own way.”

That often involved humor. “Frank used humor the way Spike Jones did - as an instrument to convey a kind of emotion and to unseat the audience,” Winter said.

Towards the end of his life, two important events took place which the film chronicles: first, Zappa’s trip to a just-liberated Czech Republic, where he was greeted like a messiah of free expression. Then there was his work with the classical group the Ensemble Modern, who came the closest to performing his music the way it lived in his mind.

In the years since his death, Zappa’s reputation in that community has only increased. “The part of the music world that dismissed Frank the most in his lifetime is now the one that takes him the most seriously,” Winter said. “Now, most of the classical world considers him one of the greatest 20th-century composers that America has produced. They did not think that when he was alive.”

Still, Winter doesn’t believe Zappa ever became bitter, either about the earlier reception to his work or about facing mortality at 53. “Towards the end of his life, he realized that people were beginning to get the substance of who he was as an artist,” he said. “And to him, on a deep level, that was very satisfying.”

Zappa will be released digitally in the US on 27 November with a UK date to be announced

Phroyd

#frank zappa #music #documentary films #culture #film

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excelsi-or · 4 years ago

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28/07/25 - break up (woozi)

w.c. 1.4k (teeny bit of angst, BUT MOSTLY FLUFF)

A/N: This is another one of my faves. :) Enjoy~~

July 27, 2025

July 28, 2025

“I should break up with her,” Jihoon says, tipping back in his seat.

“That is the stupidest thing you’ve said,” Hansol snorts. “Do you also not even realize who you’re talking to?”

“The only other option is marrying her. That’s where we are right now.” He stares at the reusable to-go mug that has his caffeine fix. The drink in the mug is done to perfection, exactly how he likes it. In that it’s a cola that she had poured in this cup she had bought him. “She pours me Coke in a reusable mug before she goes to work.”

Hansol shrugs. “And that’s a bad thing? She knows what you like.”

“She knows me so well.” Jihoon spins in the chair and stares at the screen, his notebook of lyrics open in front of him as well as his laptop that houses more lyrics. “And yesterday we talked about some old songs I’d written that I can’t finish.”

“She’s your muse.” Hansol twists in his seat. “Seungkwan’s been saying it for years.”

“Yeah, so much so that I can’t write a good song without her around,” Jihoon agrees. “Except for these ones.”

“Why are you trying to finish them then?” Jihoon looks over at him with a flat look and Hansol tips his head slightly. “Right. Well, why don’t you just tell hyung that you can’t finish them?”

“He’s already heard them.” He rubs his eyes. “He knows they’re partly done.”

“So? If you present him with other stuff, then he can work with that.”

Jihoon sighs and turns back to the computer screen that has been taunting him since he got to work. “I love her, but sad songs are my thing. If I can’t write a sad song when I’m with her, then what?”

“When did you decide that?”

“What?”

Hansol snorts as he slouches further into his seat. “That sad songs are your thing? They don’t have to be your thing.”

“But they were.”

“Have you heard your newest songs? They’re not sad.”

Jihoon sighs again.

Hansol, realizing full well that this conversation has reached a moot point, decides maybe he can try being helpful. “If you guys were going to break up, hypothetically, what would you expect her to say? And what would you say back?”

Jihoon hums. He turns to Hansol, his eyes on the reusable cup. “I’d expect her to let me down easy.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Hansol rolls his eyes. He’s read through the lyrics already on the screen. He can tell they were post-break up emotions. “What about if she wasn’t nice about?”

Jihoon leans back in his seat, tilts his head back so that he’s staring at the ceiling. “She’d tell me that I’m shit at communicating, that my long hours and lack of communication make it hard on her. She’d tell me that it wasn’t worth waiting around for me anymore.” Jihoon blinks back a few tears that he hadn’t realized had cropped up.

“And you’d respond with?”

“That this is what I love to do.”

“And she’d ask if you love music more than her,” Hansol assumes. “To which you’d say…?”

“That she’s wrong. That I did, but now I don’t.”

Jihoon returns home later that evening with his backpack over his shoulder. He’d struggled through three songs and decided to just give up and go home. When he hears the sound of her humming in the kitchen, a smile blooms on his face. Having been thinking about her all day, he goes straight for her. She looks up at him with a confused smile, probably at his already present smile.

She laughs, baffled at his intense affection, when he tackles her in a bear hug. “What’s going on?”

Jihoon leans forward, nearly toppling her sideways, to kiss the side of her neck. He nuzzles his face there. “Just…”

She doesn’t move, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“You know those songs I couldn’t finish?” He straightens up, arms still around her waist.

She continues to make herself a sandwich. “I do.”

“I need you to help me with something.”

“Sure.”

“What would you say to me if we were going to break up?”

“Huh?”

Jihoon waits for her to turn her head. The way she stares up at him makes him slightly uncomfortable, a small downturn of her brows and pout on her face at his question. He stops himself from rubbing his thumb back and forth against the skin underneath her shirt, right above her sweatpants. He has no recollection of lifting her shirt at all or putting his hands there. He hadn’t noticed he was even touching her skin.

“If we were going to break up,” he repeats, “what would you say?”

“To you?” The frown is definitely there now. “How does this help you?” She puts down the knife she was using to spread butter on her toast. She rests a hip against the counter, sliding just out of his grasp.

“Boss wants those songs done. The songs were break up songs. I’m stuck for feeling and lyrics. I just need an idea.”

“So you want me to… pretend break up with you?”

Jihoon tips his head both ways. “Yes.”

“Hmm, okay.” She turns back to her sandwich.

“Well?”

“Let me think about it first,” she snorts.

Jihoon nods and pecks her shoulder. Then he heads to the bedroom. He takes a quick shower.

With a towel in hand drying his hair, and the other holding his phone, he reads through his text messages. When he steps out into the living room, he notices the lonely atmosphere.

“Jagi?”

Jagi x (17:47)

Took my stuff. Had to leave.

I love you Ji, but it’s hard to be in a relationship on my own.

Maybe we need to grow as people before we get back together.

Or maybe we don’t.

I just think that maybe we’re different people now.

Be happy, Jihoonie.

She doesn’t answer when he calls. Jihoon stares at his phone confused.

“Jagi, if this is a game, it’s not funny anymore.” Jihoon looks around, waiting for her to pop up giggling. Jihoon takes a seat on the couch and stares at his phone. He runs through the conversation before he’d showered. They’d discussed a ‘pretend break up’. Right…?

Jihoon stares at her message thread. He waits for the bubbles to appear of her messaging him again.

When the lack of communication becomes unbearable, he calls a second time.

“Did it work?” He can hear her chewing.

“Work?”

“Yeah, you got the feeling, right? Can you open the door please? I forgot my key on the table.”

Jihoon gets up with the phone still to his ear and opens the front door. She’s standing there eating her sandwich in one hand and smiles at him. When she gauges his expression, her smile falls.

“Jihoon.”

He hangs up the phone.

“You’re the one who told me to do it!” She reaches for him and hugs him, her cheek against his chest. “You didn’t think I’d actually leave, did you? You said to say what I would say to you if we broke up.”

“To my face!” he protests, hugging her tighter. He swings the door closed behind her.

“You didn’t specify! Also, I couldn’t break up with you face-to-face. Not again.” She pulls away and stares at him. The sandwich comes between them as she takes a bite. “If we were going to break up again, it would be because you forgot me in your music.”

“No, no, no.” Jihoon shakes his head. He’s acutely aware of his hands against her skin again. “I love you more than my music.”

This stuns her enough for her to stop chewing. Her eyes widen slightly. Jihoon can’t help but smile a bit.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, my love,” she chuckles.

Jihoon kisses her forehead. “Shut up.”

“Seriously.” She looks up at him and then offers a bite of the sandwich. “I didn’t know.”

“I don’t show or tell you enough then.”

“What?”

“That I love you, dumbass.”

She smirks. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.” She watches him chew for a moment. “Are you able to finish those songs?”

Jihoon nods. “Enough about those songs. Can we just…?” He gently pushes the sandwich from between them and leans forward to kiss her.

“After this sandwich,” she mumbles between kisses.

A/N: FINAL PART THIS FRIDAAAAAY~~ YAY :D

#woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt #tabilrn #lee jihoon scenarios

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putschki1969 · 4 years ago

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Keiko SPICE Interview ~ English Translation

Notes: This is an amazing and very insightful interview. I did my best to translate it as quickly as possible. Please enjoy. Keiko is alluding to having a nephew now in addition to her niece. Ahh, that’s great. I know she loves being an auntie. She also mentions a chronic illness. I know she was having issues with her voice ever since late 2015/early 2016 (mild bronchitis) but I didn’t know it was that bad. Kalafina’s busy schedule probably didn’t allow her to fully recover. So glad she was finally able to recover properly. Anyways, let’s get to it! As always, be aware that my Japanese is by no means perfect so take everything with a grain of salt.

Source: https://spice.eplus.jp/articles/270870

In her first public interview since 2 years KEIKO talks about her quest to find music she can imagine herself creating. Regarding her solo debut she shared, “I liked these songs so I wanted to sing them!”

Three-person vocal unit “Kalafina”. KEIKO, one of the three members who created beautiful harmonies together, released her solo debut single 「命の花／Be Yourself」on May 27. After two years I got to interview KEIKO who is finally launching her solo career. She shared her thoughts regarding those two years of silence and how she ended up creating her new songs. She also told me how she felt about her 10 years as part of Kalafina~

The moment when music was no longer present in her life

――It's been such a long time. My last interview with you was back in March 2018.

Wow, has it really been this long...

――On May 27, you released your debut single「命の花／Be Yourself」 as solo artist, what did you do during your hiatus? How did you spend your time until you started working at your new agency? Did you prepare yourself for your solo activities?

No such thing. For me it was a period where I had to come to a full stop in order to get some clear answers for myself.

――Were there any specific things you wanted to try, a new start so to speak, without having to stick to any schedules?

I spent a lot more time in nature and with my family, there were also some days when I helped out my grandmother with her everyday chores. During these days I talked a lot with her and while we were reminiscing about the good old days the topic of kimonos came up, my grandmother is a “kimono instructor”, you know. “You have always loved kimonos, right?” she asked me one day so I ended up trying some of them on with her help. It’s a very special feeling for a girl to have someone put a kimono on for you. I wanted to provide that feelings for other people, especially my little niece and nephew. Also, I remembered from all of our previous overseas lives that Japanese kimonos are very popular all across the world so I felt a strong determination and decided to go to a Kimono School, "OK, let's go to school!."

――So you really enrolled in a school?

Yes, I went back to school for about half a year.

――Did you get a qualification?

At first I just wanted to take some classes. But as I spent my time there, I realised that wearing a kimono also meant studying a part of Japanese history. I was so absorbed in my studies and then all of a sudden someone suggested, “why don’t you take the exam?” “Eh?” I was slightly taken aback, “should I really do it?” “You definitely should!” It was kinda like that *laughs* So I got my qualifications by sitting in for an exam in front of very sophisticated teachers who asked me lots of questions.

――This was probably refreshing for you, like a switch had been turned off in your mind?

Yes... At that time I felt like I got to experience all the good and bad aspects of my work and I was able to determine the field and scope of my activities all by myself.

――I thought so.

When I went to Kimono School it was very refreshing to stay anonymous, I was able to put myself in a state where I was a nobody. There was pretty much no one at school who was close to my age in their thirties. There were either very young people who aspired to get a job in the kimono field or refined older ladies who were wearing kimono on a daily basis. But no one in my age-group.

――It was an environment where you only had seniors and juniors around you but no peers?

Yes. It felt like a natural environment to start from scratch without having anyone around on my level. Jumping into such an environment was a very relaxing experience.

――In a sense it might have been a refreshing time for you.

Naturally, when you put yourself into an unfamiliar situation, you will treat everything with a lot of respect. You are also starting to reconsider the way you treat the people around yourself, your attitude towards people.

――So it was a time when you were analysing the relationships and distances between yourself and other people? Within all of this, was there also some time you dedicated to music? For example, did you take singing lesson or anything like that?

Some fans may know this but towards the end of our activities my chronic illness had gotten pretty bad to a point where I wasn’t even able to do lives any more. Restoring my health and giving my voice a chance to recover was a major catalyst for me to take a break, that’s why I didn’t do anything music-related for about half a year.

――So you didn’t even take care of your vocals during this time?

Exactly. I took a complete and total break from music. In those moments when I was resting properly, music was no longer a part of my life.

――Music has always been a part of your life, you have dedicated a lot of thought, work and training towards music. In turn I think that music also provided a lot for you. So how was it to be separated from this integral part of your life? Did you maybe feel sad or a sense of loneliness?

I don't recall feeling any of that but my memories are quite blurry and fragmentary. I really don’t remember the time from our final stage greeting at the Toho Cinema Hibiya until around autumn of the same year. Maybe I was too absorbed with jumping into a new environment and resting my body. Even if I look back at that time now and try to remember what I was feelings back then, I can’t really remember anything of what was happening for about half a year. it’s very strange.

――So there was nothing, just a feeling of emptiness?

Yes, a feeling of emptiness. I guess that’s why I was trying to do so many new things, to fill that void.

She continued to search for an answer until she finally found it - a return to Kajiura Yuki

――After all this time you have returned with your solo debut. I wonder, was there a particular moment that had you become active again and which eventually motivated you to work towards your solo debut?

I remember the moment clearly when I started to be active again, it was actually a very simple thing. I became aware of the voices of our fans who had always supported us, everyone was wondering, “will KEIKO be singing again?”, “How does she feel about music right now?!”

――Yes, everyone was really curious.

Naturally, as my body recovered, my mind and heart became brighter and healthier too. After the end of summer and autumn, my body was in a great state. From then onwards I felt motivated to finally meet up with people in the industry again. I had a chance meeting with Yoda-san* who is now working together with me as my producer. During our initial talks he asked me, "you have sung songs of all kinds of genres in the past but what kind of music it is that KEIKO-chan wants to sing?” I was baffled when he asked me that because for a moment there I had no idea what to answer… [*She is referring to Haruo Yoda who also produces MISIA. She uses UNIVERSOUL999 STUDIO for her recordings.]

――You just froze up?

Yes, for the life of me, I couldn't answer his question. I wondered, "what is it that I want to sing?" I was super shocked because I was clueless. In that moment I knew I couldn’t go on like that, it was like a switch had been turned on in my mind.

――Not being able to answer immediately, that’s unexpected.

I had always been so invested in music, for all this time I had done nothing but pursue music so it was very shocking to realise that I didn’t have an answer for such an important question regarding music.

――So did you also start to become active again to find that answer?

After that switch had been turned on, I spent every day in the studio. I turned off the lights and listened to music all day every day pretending like I was at a concert venue.

――You spent all your time at the studio?

Yes.

―― Was it like trial and error? I don't know if you can give a specific name but were there any songs or artists that left an impression on you while you were listening to all of that music?

Kajiura-san for sure.

――Oh…….

No matter what I listened to, I always ended up thinking, “no, that’s not it, that’s not what I want to do.” At one point I thought that I just wouldn’t be able to find anything for me and then suddenly there was one of Kajiura-san's OSTs playing in the background. I was like, ‘oh... that's exactly what I was looking for."

――What exactly was that?

It was refreshing to once again realise that Kajiura-san's music is still able to touch my heart. All this time I had been looking for something "new!" After all, in order to start something new you want to find new music, right?

――I guess so.

But once I thought about it carefully, I realised that both the FictionJunction songs as well as the Kalafina songs were incredibly rewarding and worthy, so much fun and engrossing. Without even realising it, I had spent a decade performing these songs. I could do that because I loved the music. I felt like I was once again thrown back to a time when it was just about that simple feeling. That was the answer I ended up with in the final days of 2018.

――You were looking everywhere for the right answer but turns out the answer was right in front where you originally started.

I was kinda going back and forth needlessly, I felt very sorry about that *laughs*. The answer was right there all along *laughs*.

――I am sure that was a very emotional time for you... That's how you ended up appearing at Kajiura-san’s lives again after a very long break, how were those lives for you?

They were a lot of fun! I kept saying, “I am having a blast, I love this so much!” *laughs* Looking back at that time now, I think the biggest change for me was that I felt this immense joy to be back. I think it was because I took such a long break.

――But your heart was never able to let go.

Perhaps so. I think as an adult it takes quite some courage to put a halt to your life like that. But it was absolutely necessary for me to stop for a while.

――It's wonderful that you were able to gain a new sort of awareness during all of this.

Starting a new chapter like this felt really nice because my past and present got connected. And now I see it as my duty to strengthen my body and mind for a long-lasting music career.

――When I first asked you how it was to perform again after such a long time and you replied with a huge smile, “it was so much fun!”, that felt very refreshing to me, it made me incredibly happy to see you like that.

Thank you. I guess I am just so excited to be back at Kajiura-san's lives. It was so nice because everyone was there. Kajiura-san, the other singers and the band-members, they were all there. So I think that’s what made me happy. It might have been very different if my comeback had happened under different circumstances, on a different stage.

――There may have been a different kind of nervousness.

I agree. This way it just felt like coming home, a warm and welcoming home.

Two songs she decided to sing because she fell in love with the melody

――Please tell us about the release of your digital solo debut single, 「命の花 / Be Yourself」. Let’s start with the time when you found out about the release.

I am currently busy with the music production process so it may be best to ask my staff members about all the details regarding the release *laugh*.

――We have someone from the record company with us here today so let’s ask them, shall we? Is there anything strategic about the timing of this digital single release?

Person in charge: We decided to release an album around autumn for her big solo comeback. But we knew that the fans would be very curious about what kind of music they could expect from KEIKO in the future. So to start with, we wanted to do a little greeting by KEIKO and a digital release with two very good songs, 「命の花」and「Be Yourself」. This way we would get the chance to receive some feedback from the fans.

――I see, thank you for your input. Now back to Keiko, I would also like to know your impression when you first heard those two songs?

Doing solo activities is like starting from scratch for me. I am working based on my instincts, my gut-feeling, right now my premise is "if I like a song I want to sing it."

――You want to be able to like and appreciate the songs.

When I heard 「命の花」 for the first time I was immediately blown away, “OMG, I NEED to sing this!” I fell completely in love with the melody. With 「Be Yourself」it was a different way of falling in love. It’s the kind of song I enjoy listening to as a personal hobby. When I want to get hyped or motivated I listen to this sort of song. I shared my impression with the people around me and then we all ended up deciding that I should try singing it and just match my voice to that type of song. If you think about it, my way of falling in love with 「命の花」and「Be Yourself」was the complete opposite.

――Yes, you liked both but your approach of liking those songs was totally different.

That's right. Nevertheless, I love both of these songs. For some reason they resonated with me.

――When it comes to 「命の花」you were also in charge of the lyrics, weren’t you? Did you fall so much in love with the melody that you immediately wanted to write the lyrics?

No.

――Eh! ?

Well *laughs*. I haven't studied songwriting and I have never written lyrics before. So despite wanting to sing songs I never thought I could write the lyrics.

――That’s your attitude toward music.

But this time I was asked, "if you feel like it you could try and write the lyrics yourself?” so I said, “okay, I will give it a try.” But if I hadn’t been able to put my own worldview into words I would have probably asked the composer to do it.

――Do you feel like you prioritise the world views of the music when you are writing the lyrics yourself?

First and foremost I think that listening to music should make you feel good. It’s about the placement of words and how you feel a certain atmosphere. I'm not saying that I dislike writing lyrics but depending on each song, I think I would like to decide whether I want to write the lyrics or not.

――So you will not write the lyrics for everything.

I really don’t think so.

――Is it very difficult for you to write lyrics?

I guess because I was so in love with the song I set some really high goals for myself. It took a lot of time. The production period was in January so the cold weather made it even more difficult for me, I was constantly sitting there and sighing into the cold air. “Phew...” *laughs*

――The cold season is perfect to let out heavy sighs *laughs*.

It really wasn’t easy. But I didn’t see it as hardship. The feeling that I really wanted to sing this song was too strong. At the end of the day I managed to write the lyrics thinking that I wanted to sing this song as soon as possible.

――If you can't write proper lyrics you won’t have a song to sing.

That's right. "I can't sing it right now so I have to deal with this situation!” So that’s how I spent all of January, singing and writing and lots of sighing, trying to put my feelings into words. Lots of trial and error, “no, this doesn’t sound right, no that doesn’t resonate well here,...”

Everything leads to the feeling of "doing music and having fun".

――When I listened to the song I got this really silly impression, I felt like, "this is all so KEIKO-like, bursting with KEIKO-ness."

Why is that? *laughs*

――You put so much thought into your singing, I was able to hear all sorts of colours and sceneries in your voice, a great mixture. So the first thing that came to mind was, "this is all so KEIKO-like" *laughs*

Hahaha! *laughs*

――Overlapping colours, getting glimpses of the shades below, a multicolour structure. How was it when you actually sang the song?

Rather than writing the lyrics first and singing the song afterwards I wrote the song and sang it at the same time. So when I had finally completed the song, it felt like a natural progression.

――It’s not so much about trying to sing something that is already written but more about finding the right words to express the song properly?

It's difficult to put all of this into words... I wanted to use sharp sounds and vowels in my singing that would emphasise the images emerging from the melody. This is what I struggled with the most. It took me some time to find a balance where the melody and words would match.

――You wanted them to match?

Yes. I think that's because of my activities as a member of Kalafina, my ears are trained in such a way and used to that kind of harmony.

――Probably because you have heard such a wide variety of singing styles, this made you very particular about how things are supposed to sound like.

When the lyrics are written by someone else and the notes and words are fitting nicely together I never thought it would actually be that hard. But from the very first moment I started to work on my song, I really gained an understanding for the difficulty of writing lyrics yourself.

――When you are thinking about that you quickly realise that what composers and songwriters are doing is simply awesome, it’s out of this world.

I think it's amazing. At the end of the day I am just a newbie so all I can do is a beginner’s work. You have to be aware of yourself and what you can do. That’s something I have learned, you can’t do anything in life unless you are fully aware of your capabilities. The very final vocal recording was a lot of fun though.

――I think it's great that you can do music and have fun at the same time.

That's right! It's so much fun!

――Do the words and themes used in the lyrics reflect some parts of yourself?

Yes, some parts for sure. But... hmmm... it's difficult. This is my first time talking about writing lyrics but I am not really sure how much I am supposed to say? I guess it’s all hidden within the lyrics somewhere, I think everyone should go and look for those parts.

――I guess it all comes down to the individual interpretation, listeners discover the things that they want to hear?

I agree. There are all kinds of people who are doing their very best every day and working hard. I want to create and sing music for those people. I'm most happy when they can listen to my music and find something that resonates with their own lives.

―― Now I would also like so hear a few things about the second song "Be Yourself." It made me feel great to listen to it while going for a run.

Thank you, I am so happy to hear that *laughs*. I have also done some of my workouts and muscle training while listening to “Be Yourself”, it really got me motivated.

――It's such an exhilarating song!

For me it has this particular vibe of youthfulness. We are all at an age now where youth feels quite far away, doesn’t it? *laughs*

――Well, yes... *laughs*

However, the beat and momentum of the song drown out any sort of embarrassment you might feel, there is a kind of overeagerness conveyed. I wanted to sing a song that you can just listen to without having to think or worry about anything, you can just have a great time.

Maybe one could say she is a “Sound Otaku”

――It's been a while since the release. An official Twitter account has also been launched, it’s something you have never done, right? Have you seen some of the fan reactions?

I am seeing them. But for the most part I am busy with making more music at the moment so I am leaving a lot of that work to my staff members. I am very much aware of everyone’s feedback though so thank you!

――How was everyone’s feedback?

As you mentioned earlier, people were just really happy to hear my voice and bothing but my voice in two whole songs. Others said they were really curious to hear more of my music. I was particularly happy to hear everyone’s impressions regarding my singing voice.

――In the future you will most likely release lots of albums and sing your music live at concerts. Have you already thought about the fact that you will be standing alone on stage then? Have you been imagining yourself doing that?

I have already started to research different ways on how to best express my songs with my newly created singing voice. I am doing image training, taking care of my voice and preparing myself for live performances

――What do you mean by expressing the songs?

As I have said earlier, I started to make music again because I really loved the melody so I wanted to add my voice to it. During the production process I spend a lot of time in the studio and I try to find a voice and sound that fits the song perfectly. This period right now is super fun since I am putting everything on the line, I am taking a lot of risks. Depending on the song, my voice and singing style can be completely different.

――That’s quite something. It’s very stoic of you that you can find so much joy in that.

I wonder if stoic is the right word here... I think “otaku” would describe it better.

――So you are a music otaku?

Maybe a sound otaku? *laughs*. Wondering about what kinds of sounds are echoing in the background while listening to a song...Being curious about the base-line... It’s these things I am super interested in. My infatuation with sound (“otomo”) is very strong. The word otomo is probably made up by Kajiura-san *laughs*.

――It’s a good word. A word that accurately describes an infatuation with sounds. I feel like you are even more infatuated than you used to be in the past.

Everyone around me is making the pursuit of my infatuation possible, that’s why I am so determined. I am just really grateful.

――After listening to everything you have just said right now, I think everyone will feel the need to check out your songs.

I want everyone to listen to them. I think they are both very interesting *laughs*.

――Speaking of which, is there anything particular you would like to share with your fans before they listen to your songs?

Not really. Everyone should freely decide whether they want to listen or not. And they should listen with an open mind. I feel like my motivations, infatuations and interests are very different from what the fans like. If I share all the aspects and points of my songs that I consider special then fans are very likely to focus on only that.

――Yes, that’s true, if you provide all this information beforehand then people may end up being biased.

I want everyone to enjoy my music with an open mind, without being bound by preconceived notions.

How she currently feels about 10 years of Kalafina

――I would also like to hear your thoughts on Kalafina. Looking back, how do you feel about the 10 years as part of Kalafina?

My 10 years as part of Kalafina, well, yes, they are the reason I can sing now. It’s the binding link of everything, it’s why I can sing now, it’s why I want to sing, it’s the axis of my very existence. That’s what my time in Kalafina means to me.

――Now that you have released your solo debut single in May all three of you have started your solo activities. How do you feel about Hikaru and Wakana's solo activities?

I want them to do their very best and achieve everything that they couldn’t achieve as members of Kalafina. I think that’s the only thing I can say about that...I think there is no point in comparing our solo activities. I just want them to sing with all their might.

――I think for many people Kalafina is still very important. I am assuming there are quite a few fans who yearn to hear Kalafina’s harmony again one day when they listen to all of your solo works.

Our lives as singers is based on that very harmony so I am honestly very happy that many people are still thinking that way. We put all of our heart into Kalafina’s music and activities so to know that everyone wants to hear that harmony again feels like an affirmation of our hard work, it makes me very happy.

――Last but not least, please share a final message for the fans.

In the past I have talked about all kinds of thing with SPICE. I am happy to once again share my thoughts with SPICE now that I am starting out on this new path in my career. My solo activities as KEIKO have just begun, I am really enjoying making music. I am looking forward to the day when I can sing my songs for you, please look forward to that day as well! Thank you for your lifelong support. *laughs*

#kalafina #keiko #keiko solo debut #keiko solo work #my translation #my translations #spice interview #such a long interview #I am dead #my baby #everyone #please read this #the amount of candy that was needed to finish this translation #there goes my diet XD

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years ago

Text

Reliving An Old Nightmare - Chapter 27 (END)

<= Chapter 26

Summary : All good things come to an end. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337299/chapters/59261005

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THIS IS IT. THE FINAL CHAPTER. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

I hope you'll like it !!

Happy reading !

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Chapter 27

-“Snatcher?” the little voice called out to him, weakly. The ghost’s eyes opened wide when he realized that the kid was now awake, safe and sound. Her eyelids seemed heavy and she had trouble keeping her eyes opened. She seemed exhausted, fighting the need to go back to sleep with determination. The spirit’s body instantly started to float as his mind went from boredom to surprise and relief in a blink.

-“Kid!” he exclaimed, his voice a little too emotional to his taste: “You’re awake!” A sigh of relief escaped his mouth, while the child sat up with difficulty. A huge feeling of nervousness engulfed the shade when he saw her clenching her chest, frowning in confusion. Was she still injured? But he hadn’t seen any blood on her! He had checked!

His worried eyes met the kid’s once more and the perplexed expression on her face intensified:

-“W-what happened?” she asked, definitely upset.

-“You don’t remember?” His apprehension worsened when the little girl shook her head, rubbing her stomach in the process. She was furrowing her brow, glancing everywhere, as if her mind was trying its best to find the memories it was missing. Snatcher didn’t really know how to let her know of her previous death… Was there a gentle way of informing someone of a situation like this one? Probably not… It’s not like people came back to life on a regular basis anyway. He opened his mouth, ready to start talking again, only to be cut short as the little girl let out a loud “holy peck!”, the words resonating in the bedroom.

The spirit was taken aback, very much surprised by her sudden reaction. He wanted to know what was happening to her, see why she had yelled but, somehow… A very different word left his lips:

-“Language!”

Both of them froze as they realized what the spirit had just said. Silence fell in the room and the child slowly turned back to him, staring with wide eyes. What happened after that shook the shade even more than everything he could have anticipated: the brat started to laugh. At first, it started off as little giggles, but it quickly transformed in louder fits of laughter, as she clenched her sides. Snatcher frowned, utterly baffled and ashamed. He couldn’t believe he had just made a remark like this! Who was he, the girl’s father?

The thought made him pale immediately and he gulped with effort. No, no, no, he would never think about that ever again, nope. This made him feel way too weird for it to be normal and this was definitely not something he wanted to think about anyway.

However, he was brought back to reality as the kid’s laugh slowly died, changing into what sounded like sobs. The hatted child curled up in a ball, holding her head and letting her fingers go through her hair. Her breathing rhythm had quickened and Snatcher could sense her soul starting to get extremely agitated, more than it ever was before.

-“Woah, woah, woah, kiddo, what’s wrong?” he called out to her, troubled by her rapid change of attitude. He floated higher, extending his hand to her shoulder before stopping, not touching her. What was he doing? Was he actually trying to comfort her? Him? The soul-stealing ghost who had tried to kill this kid once?

This couldn’t be happening, this was ridicule! And yet, when he heard more sobs coming from the little ball in front of him, he felt his inexistent heart shatter. Usually, these would be sounds he would be delighted to hear! Crying children used to be his favourite thing in the world! But in this particular situation, there was nothing to laugh about.

This was just breaking his heart. Yet, this was nothing compared to what he felt when he heard the child murmuring something:

-“I-I died… Holy peck, I actually died…!” she kept repeating, rocking herself back and forth as she did so.

Oh. So that was why she had started crying. A wave of sadness hit Snatcher, as he was reminded of his own realization about death. Memories of him walking in the snow, trying to get away from the manor he was currently in, purposely ignoring why nothing hurt anymore, because he didn’t want to accept the idea of being dead… He understood exactly what it felt like. He had felt it too, once, and still felt it sometimes. Crying about her own death made perfect sense to him. Who wouldn’t, after all?

He remained motionless for a few seconds, looking at the brat with eyes full of sorrow. What should he do? He hadn’t comforted anyone in hundreds of years! How was he supposed to make a kid feel better? Sure, the subconites all used to be children, but it was a very different matter! But the more he heard the kid sobbing, pulling on her hair, the more he felt compelled to do something. He couldn’t just ignore her and wait for her to feel better, could he? Well, he probably could, though the idea felt extremely wrong to him for some reason. Thus, he extended his hand again, gently patting her head as he said words that truly sounded strange coming from him:

-“… There, there,” he muttered, glancing elsewhere as he felt the kid turning his head towards him, “It’s going to be okay. You’re still alive and well,” he added, hoping to reassure her more. He couldn’t believe he was doing that. The gesture felt so foreign to him and so did the words. If he had been told someday he would care for a child and even comfort them… He wouldn’t have believed it.

And now, here he was, consoling a kid. Things sure had changed since the latter had started pestering him…

Next to him, he heard said kid sniffing and trying to contain her cries, little by little. Then, he felt a gentle contact on his hand, and he glanced back at her. She had taken his hand into hers and she was smiling weakly at him, her eyes red and puffy. Tears marks could be seen on her cheeks, and she dried them up on her sleeves.

-“Thanks,” she simply said, though her eyes conveyed much more than that. She let go of his hand and stared into space. Her mouth opened a few times, as if she wanted to say something but didn’t feel the courage to. The shade didn’t miss it and squinted. He had decided to ignore it, until he saw his ex-contractor smiling warmly, lost in her thoughts. What was that? She was crying only a minute ago!

-“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” he questioned, though it was more an order than an actual request. The kid snorted and shook her head:

-“Nah, you’ll get mad,” but she was still smiling and the ghost didn’t like it. He felt like he had missed an episode. He elbowed the kid, feeling a smile returning to his face as he replied:

-“Kid, I saved your life. I think you owe me this one.” The child just shrugged, but still nodded:

-“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, okay?”

The ghost frowned once again. What was this all about? It couldn’t be that serious, could it? No, it was just going to be some dumb thing she was thinking about, just like any brat her age! Of course! What else could it be?

-“Yeah, pfff, right.”

The kid giggled again and took a deep breath. Then, she started to talk, explaining what was on her mind:

-“Well… You know, Time Pieces aren’t supposed to bring people back to life,” she told him, still staring into space, waiting for the ghost to process that new information.

Snatcher froze. What was she saying? She was there, just in front of him, safe and sound! It was all thanks to the Time Piece he had smashed onto the ground, wasn’t it? He couldn’t see any other particular reason that could explain why the brat had been taken back to the main timeline, alive and well, if it wasn’t for the powers of the time artefact.

-“What do you mean? You were dead a few hours ago! And you’re back now!” retorted the spirit, now very much confused. However, his expression only seemed to make the child smile even more. Why? What was she trying to say to him?

-“Well, yeah, but it’s not exactly because you broke the Time Piece. It doesn’t make people go back to life itself. But…”

-“But?” pressed the shade, squinting his eyes.

-“But they affect what the person breaking them wants to change,” concluded the brat, turning her head back to him, staring directly into his eyes with a look full of emotions. At first, the ghost was perplexed, not getting what she was trying to say. And then it hit him.

The kid was alive thanks to him. Thanks to his wish of her coming back to life. That was what she was saying.

-“Wait, wait,” he objected, raising his hand: “I know what you’re implying and no. No, this absolutely did not happen,” he lied, frowning. The kid merely giggled more in reply:

-“Yeah, sure,” she answered, though she seemed to know perfectly well that he was lying. Her smug expression made the shade even more irritated and he insisted, saying she was wrong, that she was just imagining things… But no matter how hard he tried to convince her, it felt like he was just digging his own grave (Ha!). However… She was right.

He had wished for her to live, right before breaking the Time Piece. So… He literally had saved her life, then? Just by wishing for it? Did that mean that if he hadn’t tought about it… The kid would have remained dead? The very idea gave him an awful feeling he couldn’t quite grasp. How could someone’s life depend on a thought only?

Yet, his and Moonjumper’s story had quite a similar turn of events, in the end, so… He supposed it wasn’t so strange.

The shade’s inner monologue was cut short as the kid straightened up suddenly, her eyes wide open as if she had just realized something. He didn’t even get the time to ask about it as she stood up, wobbly yet very determined:

-“The Time Piece!” she exclaimed, then facing him: “Do you have it?” Snatcher was taken aback, yet he hadn’t even thought about it since the moment he woke up. If he had to be completely honest, all he had thought about since then had been the chi-

Oh, who cared about honesty anyway!

He shook his head:

-“No, I-,” well, it wasn’t like he could admit he hadn’t even thought about it, couldn’t he? Eventually, he just replied with another question, trying to change the topic: “What about you, can’t you sense them or something?”

She glared at him but still closed her eyes, focusing for a few instants. It seemed to be quite difficult, as she frowned while doing so, trying to keep her balance by putting her hands on the bed. She finally reopened her eyes, moving to the door with an unsteady walk:

-“It’s downstairs,” she declared, putting her hand on the door handle. Snatcher interrupted her, not liking how wobbly she was on her legs, very much to his despair.

-“Shouldn’t you rest?” he retorted, even though he wanted nothing more than to leave this awful place: “You’ve died a few hours ago, don’t tell me you feel fantastic right now!”

He couldn’t believe he had just said that. In front of him, the kid only rolled her eyes as she opened the door:

-“I feel fine, dad,” she countered sarcastically, though it still hit Snatcher like a train, even if she had already made this joke before: “Plus, if I have to rest, I’d like to do it in my own bed rather than in your ex’s.”

She did have a point. He still groaned, following her as she went down the stairs, floating next to her. God, he was so glad to be able to fly again. He wouldn’t have to deal with legs ever again!

They arrived on the ground floor. Noises could be heard from the kitchen, probably because of Vanessa baking more of those awful cookies. When the child approached the kitchen door, the shade sighed, frustrated. Of course the Queen would have the Time Piece. Well, it wasn’t like he wanted to leave without saying anything, but he still didn’t like talking to her more than necessary. They weren’t going to be friends or anything else, even after her apologies.

The child opened the door, apparently just as sick and tired as he was. They were greeted by the sight of a huge mess in the kitchen: plates and mixing bowls everywhere, pastry on the counters, flour and milk spilt on the floor, utensils scattered around… And, on the dining table, the Time Piece, illuminating the room. As for Vanessa, she was crouched in front of the oven, watching the cookies baking. The shade couldn’t help but wince at the mess in the room: Vanessa had always loved baking, but she often made a huge mess in the process. Still, he wondered where she got those ingredients, since Subcon wasn’t exactly the place to find them… He supposed he would never know unless he asked her about it which, really, wasn’t something he wanted to do.

The Queen heard them and turned in their direction, looking at them with her red and shiny eyes. The ghost felt the kid freeze in front of him, probably not expecting to see Vanessa in that form again. The shade knew that she was wondering if the situation was dangerous or not, just like he had when he had seen Vanessa again. He couldn’t blame her: his ex didn’t look exactly harmless in that state. Plus, the little girl had had some traumatic experience the time he had sent her to the manor.

The woman stood up quickly, dusting her form as she tried to smile weakly. However, due to her fangs being visible, it only made ever even scarier than she already was.

-“Oh, you’re awake!” she exclaimed, though it was easy to see how anxious she seemed to be. She clapped her hands, fidgeting, and picked up a plate of cookies she had finished baking. She then walked closer to the little girl, who remained very tensed, as she was handed the plate.

-“Do you want some?” she asked, before looking away: “You must be quite hungry after… After what happened.”

Her tone had expressed much of her worry and guilt, and she hunched her back even more, while she was waiting for the kid to take one of the biscuits. Said kid looked at the cookies with distrust, then glanced at the shade, as if to ask his opinion on the matter. He made sure Vanessa wasn’t looking directly at him and slowly shook his head as an answer. While the woman had always loved baking and wasn’t particularly bad at it, he didn’t trust her enough at the moment. And well, wouldn’t trust her ever again. So he simply and silently told the child not to take any risk, just in case. It wasn’t like Vanessa was going to poison them after everything that had happened, but still.

The little girl glanced back to the Queen and clenched her stomach, shaking her head with a sorry smile:

-“Uh… I feel a little too sick for that, right now… Sorry,” she apologized.

Vanessa’s expression saddened at her reply, but it quickly disappeared as she smiled once again:

-“Oh, then I can pack some for later!” Snatcher saw the child wincing at the offer but she still nodded, surely too afraid of upsetting the Queen. Well, at least, she wouldn’t be forced to eat them, so that was that.

The Queen put back the plate on the counter and looked at her feet, ashamed:

-“I wanted to… I wanted to apologize,” she declared and soon clarified: “For what happened to you. It wouldn’t have happened if I had realized my mistakes. I shouldn’t have helped Moonjumper to create this other world. I’m so sorry, I truly am.”

The ghost could feel she was being sincere and he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the idea. All this time, he had wished for her to understand what she had done, and now it was finally happening. It was too late, but at least, it was still happening.

-“Most people can’t resist the powers of the Time Pieces,” replied the child, sadly: “It’s good if you understand now. A lot of people refuse to accept they were wrong about using them.”

Vanessa only nodded in response and her eyes glanced to the Time Piece on the centre of the table. She moved in its direction and picked up, very delicately. She approached the little girl with it and handed it to her, trying to smile as she did so:

-“I believe it’s yours,” she said: “Don’t let anyone use it the way I did.”

-“I won’t.”

The kid’s determined expression was enough to tell she was more than serious about this. In fact, she had always been, seeing how she was ready to do anything to take them back. The abilities to rewind time, to create alternate dimensions… Those were extremely dangerous powers and it made sense that someone was there to keep an eye on them.

Though, the fact that this certain someone was a child still confused the ghost very much. What about her parents? Her family? Who could let a child so far away from home? But as soon as these thoughts entered his mind, a feeling of shame engulfed him: why was he thinking about that? It wasn’t his business! There was probably a very logical explanation; she came from another planet, after all! The government was maybe very different, the laws as well… Who was he to judge? It wasn’t like he was a good person either… After stealing and eating so many souls, he surely didn’t have any say regarding moral questions.

His inner monologue was cut short when he saw Vanessa picking up a little bag of cookies, and she opened her mouth again to speak:

-“Are you leaving now?” she questioned, looking at both of them as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t, fidgeting. To Snatcher, the very idea of leaving felt extremely appealing. The only thing he wanted at the moment was to come back to his forest and find back his old routine. Besides… He wasn’t feeling comfortable in the manor, especially in the state it was in now.

The child nodded, as she held the Time Piece close to her chest:

-“I should,” she said, before letting an awkward snort leave her lips: “I have a lot of things to fix on my ship, after all…”

The Queen seemed to be taken aback, perhaps because she had forgotten the kid was an alien for a brief moment. But she agreed, and accompanied them to the front door, opening it for them. When Snatcher and his ex-contractor stepped outside, Vanessa finally found back the courage to tell what had been on her mind:

-“I’ll unfreeze Subcon,” she promised, very much decided. The shade’s eyes widened at her words, but she continued before he was able to say anything: “I know it’s too late for that, but… I will keep a better control of my powers from now on. I know you won’t forgive me, and I understand… But I really wanted you to know that I regret everything I did.”

She paused, taking a deep breath and concluded, her eyes fixed on his:

-“Again, I’m really, really sorry.”

The spirit felt like a huge burden had been taken off his shoulders. She had apologized before, yet… This was much more important to him. There was something in her tone, in her words, in that promise, something she had never shown before.

Something the shade had waited for hundreds of years.

Silence settled between them and, after a few seconds, words left his mouth:

-“Thank you,” he murmured and, while it wasn’t much, his intonation said enough about how much he was glad to finally hear that. He felt the little girl grab his hand and he turned his head towards her, surprised at the sudden contact. He felt his inexistent heart warming up when he saw the kind smile on her face.

Why? Why did he felt so happy right now?

He quickly took his hand back, trying to ignore the disappointed look on the child’s face as he started to speak again:

-“Anyway, I think it’s time to go. I have traps to set, minions to order around, contracts to write... I’m a busy man.”

Vanessa’s smile came back as she answered:

-“I’m sure you are,” though she let out a snort when she saw the little girl rolling his eyes at his words. The ghost’s frustration came back, not liking the child’s attitude. However, he didn’t comment on it, as he was sure she would have made fun of him.

Another silence settled between them, as no one really knew how to end the conversation. Eventually, Vanessa broke the tensed atmosphere:

-“Well… Goodbye Alistel. I hope we’ll see each other in the future”, Snatcher nodded, but it wasn’t something really mutual, for now at the very least. The Queen then turned to the hatted brat and gave her the little bag of cookies she had promised her earlier:

-“Goodbye to you too, my child. I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”

The kid’s smile widened and she said goodbye as well. Vanessa eventually came back inside, closing the door behind her. Now, the spirit and the kid were alone once again. The ghost followed her as she stepped away, going down the stairs and jumping into the snow with a bunny hop.

-“So… What are you going to do, now?” he asked her, feeling anxious without knowing why.

-“I’ll fix my ship, now that I can search for spare parts around.”

-“And then?”

The child gave him a confused look, not really understanding where all those interrogations came from.

-“Well… I’ll continue looking for my missing Time Pieces. There are some I haven’t collected yet, and I better find them fast. Why?”

The ghost was taken aback. She did have a point: why did he care so much about what she was going to do? She had an entire spaceship for herself, allowing her to explore the whole universe if she wanted to! She would probably leave the planet after having found all of her Time Pieces, going to whatever place she had initially planned. But somehow, it all bothered him. Awful emotions hit him like a wave at the idea of the kid disappearing of his life forever. And, to his greatest horror, he knew why.

He didn’t want her to leave.

His face paled and he lost some altitude, floating closer to the ground as if he was crushed under the realization. He, the terrifying soul-stealing ghost of Subcon forest, had grown attached to a little kid. And now, that kid would be leaving soon.

He didn’t want that.

-“Snatcher? You okay?” voiced the child, staring at him with a concerned and perplexed expression. He was brought back to reality by her words, now very well aware he had let some of his emotions appear on his face and through his body language. Yet, he absolutely refused to tell her what was bothering him. Realizing he had been deluding himself was one thing, admitting it aloud was another. The ghost brushed it off, not wanting the child to understand what was on his mind:

-“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he replied, doing his best to keep his smile painted on his face as he continued: “We’re finally back, of course I’m okay!”

The brat didn’t seem convinced by his claims, yet she didn’t insist further, maybe too tired for that. Snatcher was relieved to see she didn’t try to pray into his thoughts. There were some things he didn’t want to say… At least not before a while.

-“Anyway…” The hatted kid yawned lengthily and stretched, making some of her joints crack: “I think I’ll go back on my ship. I need a nap before working on anything, or I’ll end up damaging a lot of important stuff.”

So this was it, then? The kid would teleport back to her spaceship and leave him there? The ghost didn’t like this possibility. Would she pester him again? Would she come back to see him before leaving? Would she say goodbye to him?

He sighed against his better judgement, and nodded, doing his best to use his usual intonation:

-“Well, yeah, you better fix it! It would be a shame if you died because of it, right?” However, the words felt wrong on his tongue. While it used to be sincere a while ago… It wasn’t anymore. Snatcher didn’t want the little girl to die anymore.

What was happening to him?

His reverie was interrupted as he heard the kid giggling. His eyes glanced back on her, and he was startled a little when she pounced on him, taking him into her arms. Her face stuck to his side , her hands holding him close, while he just stood there, astounded.

She was hugging him? He looked down, staring at her in bewilderment. A few weeks ago, he would have considered it as annoying, bothersome, stupid, ridicule… But now, he felt nothing but pure warmness inside of him. Tears began to appear in his eyes, as he watched the little girl silently, while she was stroking his back gently.

He didn’t want her to leave!

He quickly dried up his tears on his arms, not wanting the kid to see them and, with hesitation, eventually replied to her embrace. He slowly put his arms around her too, looking away as sadness settled over him again. The child snorted:

-“Took you long enough,” she nagged mischievously. The shade took his hands back and pushed her away in response.

-“That’s it, young lady, no more hugging,” he groaned, making her laugh even more. She still stepped away, smiling at him:

-“Well… It’s time I fix the mess on my ship,” she announced, then continuing: “Don’t worry, I’ll visit you again, BFF!”

The shade was about to retort, his face yellow from the embarrassment, but the kid teleported herself away before he was able to say anything. A bright whitish light blinded him for a second and, when he reopened his eyes, the child was gone. A feeling of loneliness hit him like a train the second he realized he was now alone.

She had left. Sure, she had said she would come back, but… Snatcher couldn’t help but feel this way. He let his body fly higher as he lifted his head to look at the sky, knowing very well he wouldn’t see her ship, considering it was in the Void at the moment. Still, he stared at the sky for a few minutes, wondering if, perhaps, he was looking at her home planet from where he was. He wished he knew.

A sad smile came on his lips as he murmured a few words to her, happy and relieved she wouldn’t actually hear them coming from him:

-“Take care.”

The wind was the only thing replying to him and, after a few more minutes passed by watching the sky silently, he floated away, slowly making his way towards his part of the forest, glad all of this was over.

This had truly been a nightmare to relive.

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I can't believe this is the end... Welp, "Reliving An Old Nightmare" is finally over, and it's over 100k words ! Gosh... Thank you so much, everyone. I had never received so much support before for a fanfic and... Woah. I wouldn't have been able to finish writing it without you. I mean it.

After all the trouble I had for creating stuff these past years, writing and finishing such a long fanfic is an incredible accomplishment for me. Thank you, thank you so much.

I have other fanfictions on my mind, including two sequels for "Reliving An Old Nightmare". Stay tuned!

#A Hat In Time #ahit #fanfiction #my art #hat kid #vanessa #snatcher #moonjumper #Reliving An Old Nightmare #Raon

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 27 - SBT

Here it is!

"Your performance tonight was absolutely baffling, Lulu!"

The Frenchman raised his eyes from his glass of wine to the criminal facing him, the reason why that whole song had made sense; namely, Arthur Duchemin.

"Many thanks."

"You have talent for this and much more than the younger generation and their nonsensical noise they dare call music."

Lucien was still in the emotion of the song he had just sung, a bit like when you watch a movie and the taste of it lingers on even after it ends. He had sung his heart and soul out to an audience that couldn't possibly imagine what it had meant for him.

He had sung about the solitude that Duchemin had forced him into for years, and this feeling of his body being an empty shell. He was missing his half, or maybe his three-quarters. He had been missing the presence of someone who could make him feel. Feel what? Anything, absolutely anything besides rage, frustration and distress. He didn't know what it felt anymore to have someone's eyes on him with that special flame, that unique spark that made him look handsome when he only saw himself old and grey.

Duchemin had applauded him and asked for him to enjoy his dinner in his company.

"So, what will you have? I tried the beef stew last time and it was quite the surprise, a good one." The calm devil said.

Lucien couldn't eat. Not only was Duchemin going to pay for his food, which was an idea he could not stand, but the song had emptied him. He needed warmth. He needed something to replenish his emotional and social energy. He raised his eyes off the menu and thought to himself. Non. He would not eat a thing. Duchemin can keep his blood covered money; money he got from killing people, from stealing people away from Lucien. Non, it disgusted him.

"If you'll excuse me, tonight's show has emptied me of my energy. I shall take my leave." The spy politely said as he folded the menu shut and put it back on the table.

"Oh, but of course, I understand. Pray do take some well earned rest. And I hope to see more of these performances in the future."

"I will make sure you do, many thanks and have a good evening."

Lucien took his leave and headed straight back home on his black, slim motorcycle. When he reached his door on the fifth floor of the hotel, he saw another tupperware box waiting for him. He picked it up from the floor and unlocked his door. As soon as he pushed it open-

"Meow!"

The little ball of white fluff jumped on his ankle and climbed all along his body to reach his shoulder.

"Oh… Mon bébé…"

[Oh… My baby…]

Lucien took Perle in his gloved hands and hugged her dearly.

"Laisse-moi juste prendre une douche et je suis à toi, d'accord?"

[Let me just take a shower and I will be all yours, agreed?]

She purred and mewled, delighted that her master had come back home. Lucien did what he said and a few moments later, he was in his bed, laying on his back with little Perle on his chest.

"Meow?"

He was petting her, letting his fingers run through her fur.

"Oui, maintenant ça va."

[Yes, now I am alright.]

"Meow?"

She rolled herself in a little ball before laying down on Lucien's chest, raising and falling to the rhythm of his breath.

"C'est la chanson que j'ai chantée aujourd'hui."

[It's the song I sang today.]

He admitted as he sighed. Perle listened to him vent while purring under his naked fingers.

"Perle?"

"Meow?"

"Promets-moi de rester avec moi, s'il te plaît. Ne m'abandonne pas."

[Promise me to stay with me, please. Don't ever abandon me.]

He raised her to his lips and kissed her.

"Meow." She promised.

"Je ne suis pas un homme bon, je ne sais pas élever un enfant seul. Mais je n'en peux plus de rester seul. Depuis que tu es rentré dans ma vie, je… Je me sens tellement mieux. J'ai quelqu'un qui m'attend quand je rentre à la maison, quelqu'un qui certes, peut me mordre de temps à autres mais quelqu'un qui m'aime bien, je crois."

[I am not a good man, and I don't know how to raise a child on my own. But I cannot stand to stay alone anymore. Since you have come into my life, I… I feel much better. I have someone to come back to when I come back home. Yes, it is someone who bites me from time to time, but it is someone who likes me, I believe."

Perle brushed her head on his mouth repeatedly as she mewled her comfort and support to Lucien. As much as he promised that he wouldn't abandon her, she wouldn't abandon him. Non, he was her everything, her father, her mother and her protector. She loved him.

On his side, Lucien started to think that he perhaps should have got a pet earlier. Maybe that would have helped although in truth, he still felt empty inside. Perle's purrs and fluff didn't do everything. Sometimes and paradoxically enough, it even made him feel worse. The moments where he was raising her, where he was explaining the world around her to her big blue eyes, those were hard moments. It reminded him of his short time as a father, too short.

"Meow?"

"Oui, j'ai eu un bébé avant toi."

[Yes, I have had a baby before you.]

Lucien stared at the ceiling.

"Meow?"

"Non, pas un chaton. Un bébé - mon bébé, ma chair et mon sang. C'était un petit garçon."

[No, not a kitten. A baby - my baby, my own flesh and blood. It was a little boy.]

Perle purred louder and louder, her whole little body was trembling.

"Cela fait dix ans que je ne l'ai pas vu, que je ne peux pas le voir. Il avait une dizaine d'année quand je l'ai vu pour la dernière fois, lui et sa mère."

[It has been ten years that I haven't seen him, that I couldn't see him. He was ten years old when I saw him last, him and his mother.]

Perle listened as she nibbled on Lucien's index finger.

"Meow."

He smiled.

"Oui, maintenant je t'ai toi. Tu es tout ce qui me reste."

[Yes, now I have you. You are all I have left.]

Lucien sat up against the wall on his bed and hugged his furry companion.

"Meow…"

She seemed to say that he was exactly that for her too. If not for him, she would have died of fear, cold and malnutrition in the dirty streets of this Australian town. Lucien held the little cat to his lips. He whispered through her fur.

"Je te quitterai pas. Je ne t'abandonnerai pas. J'ai déjà perdu un enfant et c'est plus ce que je ne peux supporter. Non, mon bébé, quand j'en aurai fini avec Duchemin, on s'en ira, toi et moi, quelque part de calme, de tranquille, loin de tout. Ça te va?"

[I won't leave you. I won't abandon you. I have already lost a child and it is more than what I can bear. No, my baby, when I am done with Duchemin, we will leave, you and me, somewhere calm, far from everything. Would you agree to that?]

And of course Perle agreed in mewls and in purs. The poor baby couldn't dream of a better life, just her, and her human father.

On these thoughts, Lucien sank back to lie on his bed, Perle curled on his pillow, right next to his face. He whispered soft stories to put her to sleep and ended up falling in Morpheus's arms first, his senses dulled by her purrs.

"Dad? You're home? Oh!"

Lucien smiled. He had come home a bit early that day and wanted to surprise his son. As the boy opened the door, he saw his father on his armchair, reading a magazine.

"Oui, mon fils."

[Yes, son.]

The little blond boy with buck teeth ran to his father, letting his backpack drop to the floor and crashed on his father's legs. Lucien crouched down to be at eye-level with his little boy and hugged him dearly.

"Oh, what is this plaster, Jérémy? Don't tell me you got in a fight again…" Lucien put his index on his son's cheek. Jérémy lowered his head.

"But they were saying bad things about you and Ma'..." The young boy said, his head lowered still.

"I told you." Lucien put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Your classmates will not stop until you show them that you don't care about what they say. As long as they get a reaction off of you, they will continue."

"Your dad is right, Jay." Jérémy's mother entered the house and shut the door after her son and herself. "You should try his advice, sweetie."

"But it's hard!" The young boy protested.

"Nothing comes easy, mon petit." Lucien gave a kiss on his son's brow. "Now, come, would you like something to eat perhaps?"

[My little one]

Both men went to the kitchen hand in hand, under the lady's kind eyes.

"Dad, can you make me one of your omelettes for dinner tonight?"

Lucien carried his son and put him on the kitchen top.

"I think your mother has already prepared something for tonight, and I'm told it might be your favourite too."

"Really?" Little Jérémy's eyes shone brighter. They were blue, like both his parents, but not as light as his father.

"Hm-mh. But I will try to negotiate with her if you are really hungry, I can make a small one that we share, what do you say, hm?" Lucien extended his hand flat, palm up, and Jérémy slapped it.

"Yeah!"

"Right, you don't move from here, d'accord?"

[Alright?]

"Lucien?"

The Frenchman turned and his beautiful lady was there, by his side as he was sitting on the armchair.

"Oui?"

"D'you need anythin' darling? I'm out shopping."

"Non, nothing, mon amour."

[My love.]

"You sure?"

"Oh, maybe one thing."

The lady in the blue dress and matching headband looked at him.

"Come back fast for me." He added and she smiled.

"I'll do my best."

She grabbed her purse and went at the foot of the stairs.

"Jay, are you comin' with me, sweetie?"

"Comin', Ma'!"

The little boy came rushing down the stairs. Lucien watched as the young boy put on his jacket before grabbing his mother's hand.

"Aren't you both forgetting something?" Lucien asked from his armchair.

"Oh!" Jérémy let go of his mother's hand and went to kiss his father. His mother came right after and did the same but Lucien took her hand and pulled her in for a longer kiss.

"Ew! Dad!" Jérémy turned his back and winced while his parents' smiles grew wider. They broke the kiss and Lucien patted his son's head as he chuckled.

Mother and son exited the house and the Frenchman went to the window. He pushed the thin curtain aside with the tip of his fingers to see his lovely family on their way to the local supermarket.

But a black 4x4 came at the angle of the street at full speed, taking a turn that was so sudden that it sent it drifting on the asphalt, the rubber of the tyres squeaked.

"NON!"

Lucien saw it all before his eyes. The car drifting slowly as Jérémy and his mother were crossing the street. She scooped their son off the road but the vehicle collided with her and sent both of them flying, only to land metres away from the impact on the opposite side of the road.

The Frenchman ran to the street without his shoes, he sprinted to the end of the road and his fiancée on the pavement, a group of passer-bys had stopped and tried to help her while a police car rushed past, chasing the black 4x4.

"Marie! Mon amour! Jérémy! Call an ambulance!"

[Mary! My love! Jeremy!]

When he reached them, his knees were wobbling and the sight of them both unconscious made him collapse to the ground. He held her against his chest and pulled Jérémy to him. He sobbed and sobbed and when the ambulance finally came, he knew that there was no one to save. He didn't let go of either of them. He barked at the first aiders to leave them alone, he yelled and screamed in the street, like a rabid, helpless dog.

"Mon Dieu!"

"Meow!"

Lucien woke up and sat in a flash. He was sweating and panted to catch his breath. Perle had jumped in fright when he shouted himself out of his sleep.

"Meow?" She mewled and mewled, while he rubbed his eyes and tried to understand where he was, when, and why.

"Mon Dieu…"

[My God…]

He sat up, his back against the wall behind him and Perle climbed on his lap. As he rubbed his eyes, he realised his cheeks were wet. He had cried in his sleep. Again.

"Je pensais que ça s'était arrêté."

[I thought they had stopped.]

"Meow?" Perle asked.

"Les cauchemars."

[The nightmares.]

He answered and looked at the shut curtains in his bedroom. He could see the early morning light filter through the fibres of the fabric.

"Dors, mon bébé. Moi, je vais me lever."

[Sleep, my baby. I will get up.]

Lucien pulled himself out of his bed and went to the bathroom. It was only when he left the carpeted floor of his bedroom and walked on the tiles that he heard the tics of Perle's little claws on the floor. She did follow him.

She looked high up at him. He was a giant next to her, she barely reached his ankle. Lucien crouched down and scooped her off the floor.

"Merci, mon bébé."

[Thank you, my baby.]

He kissed her forehead and dropped her on his shoulder.

-- A few days later --

"Perle, le lait…"

[Perle, the milk…]

He said as he looked at her on the table next to his cup of coffee.

"Meow?"

"Tu t'en es encore mis partout, mon bébé."

[Your lips and cheeks are full of milk, my baby.]

He grabbed a paper tissue and she hissed as usual.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He raised his eyebrows and his index finger. "Plus tu te plains, plus ça va durer longtemps."

[The more you complain, the longer it will last.]

"Meow…"

He wiped her face and let her fight with the paper tissue as he watched it all with a smile.

The doorbell rang.

Lucien went to get it.

"Oh, bonjour Bastien."

"Hey, L…" Bastien's eyes went down the mass of white fur climbing Lucien's side from his legs all the way up to his shoulder. "And hello Pearl."

As expected, the kitten hissed.

"I have some news for you, and a good number of letters…"

Lucien's eyes went down to the cardboard box that the young man was carrying.

"They come from the Queen Victoria. The manager had them sent here. Apparently, he didn't know where to put them!"

"Ah, merci." Lucien took the box from him. "Anything else?"

"Uh, just a word from Maurice, he asked me to tell you that you were on the right track."

Lucien half smiled.

"Of course, I am. Thank you Bastien."

"You're welcome. Take care, bye!"

Lucien shut the door and went to the sofa. He opened the cardboard box with his knife and took a peek in.

"Letters…?"

He emptied the box on his lap and put it next to him on the sofa, for Perle's greatest delight…

"What are all these?" He wondered as he flipped the envelopes to try and guess. He finally opened them, one after the other, while Perle found that cardboard box to be her second favourite place to be in, after Lucien's palms.

"Mon Dieu…"

As Lucien's eyes scanned the letters, he realised they were all from people who had come to the shows and enjoyed them. It was all from admirers. The more he read, the bigger his smile got on his face. Those letters were like Christmas for his ego!

Unsurprisingly all of them were written by women, and Lucien could smell their perfumes directly on the paper. He read them diagonally, their handwriting was smooth and round until one letter that did stand out.

The paper was cheap and it had been written with a biro, not a fountain pen. The handwriting wasn't smooth, words were crossed out on each line, showing the indecision, maybe the nervousness of the author. Lucien took the paper to his nose and smelt it. Coffee, cheap cigarettes. Oui, a man wrote that.

"Hello,

I am not used to writing to singers but I want to let you know that your last song did something to me. For a moment, I believed that I am not the only one suffering from my loneliness. I had the illusion that the misery I've lived through for the past ten years or so wasn't only my burden to carry. You made me believe that at least you too have lived something similar. Thank you for singing about solitude in a very raw and honest way, for putting words on things that I knew I felt, but did not know how to describe. And if it was only a show, if you haven't lived what you described, then you did an awfully good job at making me believe that you did. If it was all for show, then please understand that you're one hell of a lucky bastard."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped. Well, that is a way to end a letter…! His eyes when to the signature:

"M."

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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ohblackdiamond · 5 years ago

Text

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 1 of 29)

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 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort level, and Gene’s libido, this situation must be rectified. Sexswap fic.

Notes: This has been on the backburner pretty much since the quarantine started. I really wrestled with posting it at all since it’s a weird premise, and most of my fics have a more realistic bent, but I decided that if it perked me up while working remotely, eating ramen, and feeling like I was back in uni in all the worst ways (when was I in uni? why, during the Great Recession!)-- then maybe it’d perk someone else up, too. So here we are.

Gene really didn’t think too much of it at first when Paul vanished just after the tour. He didn’t take it personally, the way Peter did, and he didn’t get too quizzical about it like Ace did. The whole band was burnt-out on each other. The days where they had to share hotel rooms were gone, and the days where they wanted to share vacations were gone, too. Gene couldn’t pinpoint when it had gotten like that, and it made him a little regretful, sure, but it was just another inevitability. The Beatles had made it ten years before imploding, all those hurt egos just smushing together and screwing everything up. KISS had four years under its belt now, and already he could feel things faltering.

So maybe Paul was trying to ease all that via his disappearing act. Spend his tour break at home, probably with a bevy of girls lining up at his front porch, and come back refreshed and ready for another nine-month stretch with only a wall between him and his bandmates, assuming Ace and Peter didn’t tear a hole in it on a drunken whim. It made sense. The first time Paul didn’t return his phone call (the tinny sound of his $400 answering machine the only response), Gene wasn’t concerned. The second time, Gene assumed Paul had gone to a disco, or was spending the night at some chick’s house. The third time, Gene immediately called up Bill, who said he hadn’t heard from Paul, either.

That was cause for concern. Paul could, and did, blow off anybody but their manager. Still, Gene figured he’d give it one more day, and one more lay, before he started to investigate.

That was the plan, until he got his mail late one morning. There was always a fat stack of it. The actual sackfuls of fan mail would end up at some office, where a poor secretary was stuck stuffing envelopes with their pictures and a canned response. Sometimes a real sleuth would find his address, and he’d open those out of sheer novelty, when he had the chance, only to be disappointed when the writer turned out to be a twelve-year-old who’d spent his paper route money on several books of stamps, and mailed the same letter out to every Gene Simmons in the greater New York phone book. Every so often he’d get the good stuff, like a saucy letter from a college girl, with photos and pubic hair taped inside. “See you next time in Sacramento.” He never wrote them back, but he’d put the photos in a separate album from his conquests. Almost a hope chest of photos, there.

Gene thumbed through the newsletters and errant bills so quickly he nearly missed it. A glossy postcard, with Buckingham Palace on the front. It couldn’t have been a piece of fan mail, but he didn’t know anyone who’d bother writing him, either. He flipped it over out of curiosity. Weird.

He recognized the scratchy longhand before he got to the signature. Not that it took long. Thee address was almost lengthier than the postcard message.

“Gene—Do you know anything about curses? Write me back soon. Thanks, Paul.”

He called up Peter about it that afternoon, still baffled. He didn’t really think Peter would have any insight on it—Paul and Peter hadn’t been as close as they used to be, though that went for everyone—but he surprised him.

“I haven’t heard from him. I figured you had.” Peter was chewing gum as he spoke. Gene could hear the smacks through the receiver. “Why the fuck would he send you a postcard? You live closer to him than I do.”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Talking about curses…” Peter trailed. “Shit, I went over there last week. Didn’t call him up first, just thought I’d go over like I used to. I banged on the door and some chick came out and screamed at me to go away. I told her who I was and she just stared at me.”

“Paul doesn’t pick girls for brains.”

“It was kinda weird, though. Picky bastard usually gets blondes.”

“What, was she a brunette?”

“Yeah, real dark, curly hair—you don’t think he’s shacked up with her, do you? Some New Age type, turning him on to something funny? ’Cause he doesn’t usually want ’em sticking around, either, and I stopped by after lunch…”

Evidently, Peter paid more attention to Paul’s habits with girls than Gene ever had.

“I don’t know. Was she cute?”

“Yeah. She had nice tits.”

Of course she did. Gene rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“I’m gonna look into this. I’ll let you know if I can’t get in touch with him.”

“Sure.” There was a slight hesitation. “Hey, thanks for calling me. I thought he was pissed at me or some shit. But I guess he’s pissed at everybody.”

Gene privately feared it was worse than that. If Paul had gotten a girlfriend, one serious enough he was ignoring everyone and everything else, even the looming tour, for her sake… well, that didn’t make sense, not unless she’d conned him into something. There were still plenty of cults and communes all over the place, the leftover remnants of disillusioned hippies. They’d join fringe churches or create their own religions and live in tents on the side of the road. He didn’t think Paul would have fallen into something like that, unless the girl had spruced it up with a bunch of psychobabble and talk therapy. Paul dug astrology and self-help, but it wasn’t something he’d trade his lifestyle for. Was it?

“I’ll find out. I’ll see you, Pete.”

He hung up, then dialed his chauffeur. An hour or so later, he was pulling up to Paul’s.

He told the chauffeur not to wait on him. If Paul was at his house, he’d make him drive him back. It turned out they weren’t Paul’s only visitors. Ahead of them, walking up the driveway, was a kid carrying two grocery bags, his bicycle parked in the grass.

Gene didn’t normally have an issue making his presence known. But he held back, curious. He wanted to see who would open the door—that supposed live-in girlfriend, some other chick, or Paul himself. As the chauffeur drove away, he hung back a bit, tucking himself behind a tree at the edge of the front of the house, near the front porch. The kid didn’t seem to notice.

He watched the kid—he was probably about eleven—ring the doorbell with his elbow. After a couple seconds, the door opened, a girl in a blue bathrobe walking out, shutting the door behind her. Gene recognized the bathrobe as one of Paul’s, though she filled it out better than he ever had. She wasn’t even wearing anything beneath it that he could tell, cleavage obvious, the loosely-tied bathrobe hiding none of it. Curly, dark hair—Gene wondered if this was the girlfriend, or bedmate, that Peter had seen earlier. No telling.

“How much was it?” she asked the kid.

“Eight twenty-five.”

“You have the receipt?”

The kid pulled out the receipt. The girl looked at it, nodded, then took a wallet from the pocket of Paul’s bathrobe, tugging out a couple bills.

“Here’s nine. Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The kid paused. “I thought somebody famous was supposed to live here.”

“You thought wrong.” The girl took the two bags of groceries and turned back towards the door, trying to use her elbow to turn the knob. The kid was already back on his bicycle. As he kicked the stand up, he called back out to her over his shoulder.

“Hey, you gonna need groceries next week, too?”

“I hope not.” She set both bags on the front porch. The kid nodded, waving as he started down the driveway. The girl didn’t wave back, busy opening the door.

Now was Gene’s chance. He stepped out from behind the tree and walked to the front porch as the girl picked up one of the grocery bags again.

“Hey.”

She turned around immediately. Her eyes got big.

“Shit—Gene!”

She recognized him. That didn’t narrow it down. She looked familiar, somehow—she wasn’t a Playmate, Gene always recognized those—maybe a model, or a groupie? But Paul didn’t bring those home. Gene raised a finger to his mouth.

“Shh. Look, I’m here to see Paul. Is he in?”

“Wh—no. No, sorry.” A tense, quick smile. Definitely not a model. Only Ali MacGraw could manage to make it with crooked teeth.

“Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know where he is.”

“So he just left you over here?”

The girl set the bag down, folding her arms. Something about the mannerism made an eerie feeling prickle down the back of Gene’s spine.

“Are you telling me I can’t be here?”

“No!” Gene pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t care who he’s with. But we’re supposed to go back on tour in a couple weeks and—”

“I know!”

“That’s great. So maybe it might be nice to know where he is beforehand.”

The girl bristled.

“I told you, I have no idea! I just—can’t you leave me alone?”

“You’re living in his house, wearing his bathrobe—that wasn’t even your wallet, was it?”

“Hey!”

Gene scrambled for it. The girl was fairly tall; he probably only had about five or six inches on her, but she wasn’t quick. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, then jammed his other hand into the bathrobe’s pocket, starting to tug the wallet out. She clenched his arm, nails digging in roughly, not nearly hard enough for him to drop the wallet.

“Stop it! Let go of me, you goddamn idiot!”

She shoved forward, stomping on his foot. Gene couldn’t feel that much of an impact, given the thickness of his boots. He kept a grip on her shoulder as he got the wallet fully in hand, opening it up as she screamed at him.

“You don’t understand, Gene! It’s not what you’re thinking!”

Unsurprisingly, Paul’s driver’s license photo was the first thing staring back at him from the see-through plastic card slot. Eisen, Stanley B. (God, the guy still hadn’t legally gotten his name changed) printed across it. Beyond the license was a handful of credit and business cards, as if Gene really needed to thumb through them for any further confirmation.

“You stole his wallet.”

“I didn’t steal it!”

She had a lisp, Gene noticed out of nowhere.

“Like hell you didn’t. Where is he?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

She jerked back abruptly, digging her nails deeper into his arm. He didn’t let go, but his hand shifted, accidentally yanking the bathrobe down at the shoulder. The girl’s eyes got huge. One of her breasts was exposed, which would’ve been plenty distracting enough, under normal circumstances, but for once, Gene’s eyes went to her bare shoulder first.

More specifically, the rose tattoo on her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t possible. It had to be a coincidence. He only saw the tattoo for a second at best, before she smacked his hand away and yanked the bathrobe back into place, covering her shoulder.

It didn’t prove anything. But in a nice, W.A.S.P.y neighborhood like Paul’s, how many chicks had tattoos? And how many would have one like that, a Lyle Tuttle tattoo, when Lyle’s shop was clear across the country?

She looked pissed-off. Scared, too. Something about the tight, sour way her lips were pressed together seemed weirdly familiar. The way she was acting didn’t add up. She’d called him by his first name on automatic. No deference or starry-eyed behavior. This girl didn’t give a damn about him being a rockstar. Those caustic responses made it come off like—like she really knew him.

That prickly feeling down his spine was only getting worse, even as he tried to dismiss it as impossible. If Gene was right, what he was about to do was incredibly cruel. If he was wrong, he’d just owe Paul Stanley’s latest chick a sincere apology. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

But he had to know. He let go of the bathrobe and quickly shoved his hand through the girl’s tangled, curly hair, starting just at the temple, lifting it up to fully expose the right side of her face. The abject horror in her dark brown eyes might have been confirmation all on its own, but the damage was already done. He’d already pushed back enough of her hair to see what he’d only ever been told about before.

“Gene, y-you fucking asshole!”

Not an inch past one wispy sideburn was a stub of cartilage where her right ear should have been.

He wasn’t dealing with Paul’s girl of the duration. He was dealing with Paul.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #ace frehley #peter criss

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ansgar-martinsson · 4 years ago

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The Best Intentions - Part 27

It was too late.

He had neither meant for it to happen, nor expected it.

Not so soon after his return to Stockholm, not so soon after he came home. Not so soon after first hearing the name Joline Lindberg. Not so soon after the oozing, crusty-black scab from Faye’s rapier slash fell away from his wounded heart.

But it was too late. Too late and in that moment, he knew it. He knew it the moment he reached for her, the moment he drew her in, the moment his body meshed and melded with hers, the moment he took her with a gentle stroke, with a careful slide of his flesh into hers, with a lover’s embrace. He knew.

He knew it just the same way he knew how to breathe life into a Philip Glass sonata, how to create with a CAD program or a hammer. He knew it just the same way he understood his business, the way he could read his customers, the way he knew how to keep his employees happy and productive. He just knew.

But he’d not put words to it. Not yet. Not even in his mind, would he allow himself to admit to it. The ethereal ‘it’. That ‘it’ that meant his stomach would flutter and his heart would pound and his head would feel like a helium balloon in the very presence of her. That ‘it’ that would make his cock twitch with the very idea of her flesh. That ‘it’ that meant he would do anything, say anything, give anything just to keep her with him.

That ‘it’ that was now giving him the warmest, most tender delight in not just fucking, not just sex, but making love… truly and honestly making love to the woman in his arms, the woman in his bed, the woman in his life, the woman named Joline Lindberg.

Making love.

Love.

Love… Joline?

Could he? Did he?

And if that is what it was, would he give over to it? Would he give in to it, again? Better question: would she?

“Mmmm, come here,” he murmured, pulling gently on her opposite side. “I want to see your face. Come on top of me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” his voice was breathy, reedy, nearly a child like beg. “I need to see you. I need to look… to look at you.”

And he shifted and she shifted, and he found himself staring up into her deep, fathomless eyes. Her weight was a comfort around his body, an anchor for his restless spirit, a balm for his battered mind. His hands, nearly of their own accord, for his full attention was on her face, grasped her around the waist and lifted her. “Inside,” he whispered. “Put me back inside.”

Her gaze not leaving his, she reached between her legs and wrapped her fingers around him. He knew she’d taken him in, not so much from the sensation of her warm, soft flesh, but more from the look of pure bliss that melted over her features as she lowered herself down upon him.

His own muscles went slack, his eyes fluttered closed and open again, and his mouth dropped open upon a deep, guttural moan. “Mmmmm,” he hummed. “Just like that. Yes. Yes. Oh. Exactly like that.”

She’d rolled her hips to seat him deeper, and in doing so, bent forward, her hands flat on the mattress, framing his head, her breasts perking down in tempting mounds just in the reach of his mouth, her hair cascading in a thick, dark mass over her face to tickle his beard below. She moved on him, slowly, slowly, oh so slowly….

And Ansgar moved with her, just as languid in his caresses, just as fluid in his pulses, just as fervent in his searching kisses, just as… loving… in his touch. A touch that was amorous and delicate, fluttering and caressing over her heated skin with quiet fingertips. He reached up, palming back the curtain of her hair, parting it away from her face, sculpting a bright, pinkish blue halo of seraphic sunrise and cherubic city light around her head. He held the day-glow back, exposing the window of her very soul, the wings of her emotions, and he watched her. Watched. Watched for those tell-tale signs of her mutual desire, his effects upon her, her knowledge of him. He watched and studied and learned and extolled and revered…

… and, like the pilgrim that he was beneath her altar, he worshiped her.

“Oh, Joline. Beautiful Joline,” he praised, lifting his hips from the bed, pressing himself further, further, even further into her. His fingers curled inward, tightening his grip on her head, his vision fixed firmly upon her, his eyes to hers, grasping onto her gaze with a near preternatural strength until… until….

Until he could hold the heat of it no longer. Until his eyes squeezed shut, until every muscle in his face, every tissue in his body contracted and constricted, pulsated and throbbed in a cascade failure of control, a paroxysm of pleasure. “My… ah… ah… ah… oh! Joline!”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ansgar shoved the gear shift of his Tesla into park at the very moment the clock on the display shifted from 11:59 AM to 12:00 PM. With a knowing smirk, he lit from the car, nearly jogging around the front, up the drive and to the door of the small house.

He found the doorbell with little problem, smiling at the sight of the red and yellow Dala Horse painted upon its cover, the surname “Lindberg” printed in matching Old Germanic lettering along the bottom. A mash of his finger on the cracked and faded button and he was met with an old-fashioned, satisfying “bing bong” from somewhere within the home.

He pressed the button a second time, shorter, then, and stood back, considering his reflection in the plate glass of the outer door. He ran his hands over his clothes - roll-sleeved and breast-pocketed light pink linen shirt, navy blue walking shorts, brown woven belt and tan boat shoes - through his hair - which he left looser, more casual, that day - and across his beard - which he’d trimmed to sharp-lined precision that morning after he’d returned Joline, upon her request, to the Opera House.

Hands shoved deep in his shorts pockets, he rolled up and back on the balls of his feet, waiting. He checked his watch, wiping the immense crystal of it against his shirt, annoyed by the slight smudge upon it, a smudge put there when he’d cleaned up the breakfast dishes that morning.

“You told me you were a hopeless cook,” Joline had teased, leaning on her cupped hands over the edge of the breakfast bar. “What the hell do you call that?” She’d pointed to the oven, where Ansgar had fetched out a cooking tray with two white ramekins, bubbling and baked to perfection - hot scrambled eggs, fresh rosemary and basil, cheese, butter, and ham cooked into a dish omelette and ready to serve. “That looks amazing and smells absolutely delicious.”

“It’s true. I am a hopless cook,” Ansgar had replied, resting the cookie sheet onto the granite counter. “I had nothing to do with it. Rosie made these last night and left them for me in the fridge. Left me specific instructions, step by step, on a sheet of paper, mind you, of how to cook them this morning.”

“How sweet of her,” Joline had drolled. “Handholding you through making my breakfast and all that. Did she tell you how to turn that thing on, and that you shouldn’t touch the inside when it’s hot?”

Ansgar had chuckled. “I know how to work the oven, darling. It’s just all the bits leading up to it that are completely baffling.”

“How brave of you to open up and admit that to me,” Joline had joked.

“I can keep nothing from you,” he’d said, leaning into her. He brushed the warm side of the oven mitt down her nose, smiling. “You should know that by now.”

Ansgar chuckled at the memory of it as he waited on the concrete stoop for her. His flesh stirred inwardly at the thought of her sitting there in his kitchen, her legs spread over the edge of the white leather bar stool, in her pink knickers and flesh coloured brassiere, of her dark hair loose and mussed upon her shoulders, her make up all but smudged off and her lips rather bruised. He smiled at the memory of his own body, wrapped in nothing but a white towel, how he had to sit with his torso tight against the table as he ate, his erection threatening to drop the towel where he sat.

He checked his watch again, and again, he pressed the button.

After Ansgar dropped her at the theatre with a kiss, a tickle and a promise to fetch her again in a few hours for the picnic, Joline put in a few hours work before returning home to change and check in on her mother. Joline had her girls in the marketing department throw together a handful of mailers and fliers for the Martinsson Construction clientele, in case the opportunity presented itself. She fancied the cover story, and if it got her a few more subscribers, it was worth the effort.

“You’re still in your knickers. Are you nervous?” her mother asked when she caught Joline yanking yet another outfit from the depths of her closet.

“Mama, what are you doing? Pacing my hall again?” Despite Joline’s reservations about going to the event in a personal capacity, she still needed to look equal parts House Manager for the theatre and the potential girlfriend of the CEO. Mistress, lover, fuckbuddy, newest toy, all titles that society deemed inappropriate, but that they all practiced. Society always needed a title (even if she and Ansgar both disliked them), so she’d don the girlfriend moniker for the sake of appearances.

“Making sure the varnish is still on the door,” her mother quipped, pointing at the closet door that Joline had opened and closed at least four dozen times.

“Tell your jokes. I think I may go mad.”

Emelie crossed the threshold of her daughter’s room and eased herself into a seated position on the foot of the bed amongst at least half the contents of the closet. Her back played her up, and Joline couldn’t help but notice the favor and attention given to the act of sitting. It worried her more than she’d ever admit or confront her mother with.

Joline often said when anyone asked of her mother’s condition that there were good days and there were bad days. She rarely spoke of the mediocre or stable days, and never in great detail. Save Elias. Elias lived through some of the brutally painful days when their mother could barely stand for the aches in her back and legs. Elias listened to Joline’s tears of terror that their mother might not live till morning for the bouts of vomiting.

Joline couldn’t share that family business with anyone but Elias. She wasn’t embarrassed by the progression of her mother’s disease, and didn’t resent her decision to move back to Sweden to care for her either. She was glad to do it, proud to be there when her best friend needed her. She merely didn’t utter the words because it would make time infinitely smaller, her borrowed time with her mother even shorter. Make the truth of it a reality, even more than the rounds of meds and constant surveillance.

It was a form of denial that Joline lived to keep her going day to day, to continue working at the opera house, to even date. If she let herself think about it, consider the real possibility of her mother’s fate, she’d shrivel like a raisin in the sun or cease to exist herself. Life without her mother wasn’t a life at all.

“Why the neurotic emptying of your closet?”

Joline threw a floral print summer dress into the pile of ‘possibility but not really feeling it.’ She blew out an exasperated breath. “What the fuck do I know about corporate functions?”

Emelie smiled a closed mouth grin. “Do what I did when your father took me, fake it. Fake it till it hurts. Then do something entirely scandalous when you get a minute alone with your… date.”

“Mother!”

“Your partner? Date… whatever he is. You do nothing different than when you do your theatre hoity-toity gigs.”

“That’s business.”

“So is this,” Emilie pointed out sagely, “Just not your business.”

Joline flung her closet door open again, hoping an option would jump out at her and scream, ‘Pick me! Pick me!’ Instead everything hung lifelessly in her closet looking utterly drab and inappropriate. She sighed dejectedly. “I’ve turned into her… one of those girls that fusses about every detail.”

Emelie curled her arms around each other and rested them under breasts. “Jojo, you can be as girly as you need to be… no judgement here. I won’t spill.”

Joline sighed and glanced at the clock on her mobile that rested on the chest of drawers. Too little time…

“Daughter,” her mother intoned cautiously, “I hate to be that mother, but I’m going to be this one time.”

The younger Lindberg woman turned to her mother, drawn in by the concern she heard there. “Is he good to you?”

The question caught her off guard and unprepared for answering. The instant attraction between her and Ansgar and the subsequent time spent in each other’s company felt too new, almost unstable to tell anyone else about. Even her best friend. She needed to sort herself before she could explain to anyone else… at least until her mother confronted her. “By all appearances, we shouldn’t work, mama. I know that. He’s everything I thought I didn’t want. An executive. A celebrity by Stockholm standards. Arrogant, assertive arsehole.”

“I swoon at the thought, dearest.”

“And yet, there’s a generosity to him, a willingness to help, and he’s brilliant.” She shivered as her mind played back another intimate moment she shared with Sgar, when her body sank onto him and bliss of their gentle joining stalled her heart. “He’s good to me. At least he’s trying to be.”

Hardly the typical mother, Emelie stepped into that role with surprising ease when it came to her youngest. She’d read the gossip columns about Ansgar Martinsson, his estranged wife, and suspect incident regarding another former employee of Martinsson Construction. She wasn’t one to believe gossip, but the overwhelming amount of it surrounding the owner and CEO gave her pause.

The love bites she caught sight of on her daughter didn’t help endear him to her either.

*~*~*~*~*~

“Shit!” Joline cursed when she heard the bell ring at the front door. She tucked in her long-sleeved white blouse, leaving the tops buttons undone, into a cream and blue diamond linen skirt. She shoved her feet into pale blue heels and roughly combed her fingers through her loose hair to get it to behave.

“Your chariot is a tesla,” her mother muttered from the hallway where she hovered. “Well, fuck me…” she blew out on a whistle.

“Mama!”

“Don’t blame me! I didn’t think Teslas could run on the working class oxygen that we store out here.”

Joline grabbed her clutch, a pair of earrings, a ring to put on her finger and an extra lipstick before she breezed past her mother to the stairs. She left a peck on her cheek and instructions to take it easy. She sidestepped down the steps as the bell sounded once more. Breathlessly, she got to the door and glanced up the stairs to make sure her mother was out of sight. She opened the door a wedge and squeezed herself out the smallest gap she could, closing the door behind her.

“I kept you waiting, I’m sorry,” she tried to sound carefree, but she didn’t feel it. All six foot two of Ansgar stood tall and proud in front of her house, feet from her mother, and she thought she might faint. Dizzy with nerves, she kissed him quickly and began to lead him towards his car. “Time got away from me.”

“Slow down, darling,” he stated calmly, catching her arm and tugging her back to him. “We’re in no rush,” he purred, petting his hands over her hair. “You look… incredible.”

Joline felt him entwine his fingers with hers and urged her into his embrace. “Sgar, the neighbors will talk.”

“Then let’s give them something to discuss, at length.” He cupped her cheeks between his hands and brought her lips to his for a long engaged kiss. The passion in his kiss was enough to melt the iron of the little mail slots on all the doors of the neighborhood. “I’ve been anxious for that,” he murmured against her lips.

“You look good too,” she said dumbly, a delayed response, her senses melted at her feet on the path between her front door and the street.

Ansgar led her to the car, opened th e door for her and offered her a hand to guide her into soft, soft, silky smooth leather bucket seats. The new car smell assaulted her nose, and nearly knocked her out from sensory overload. Ansgar’s kiss, heady and sensual, his car, sinful and decadent, the leather, sexy and luxurious.

He closed the door when she was safely inside and stepped around to the driver’s side, folding himself into the bucket seat. He took her hand again, once he’d pulled away from the kerb. Traffic moved freely as they inched along to the park entrance.

“So partner….” She began.

“Partner is it?”

“When your tongue isn’t in my mouth, kissing me stupid.”

He laughed, bringing her hand to his lips, his eyes on the road ahead.

“I reviewed all the designs from last season, and I think I found where the plans were changed and the bulbs were all switched around. The lighting designer from last season was asked not to come back… this was before I was brought on. Seems he left a parting gift,” she explained in as few words as possible. She knew the name well enough, as the short-tempered Welch man had left a lot of her crew sour. “But I might still have a sympathizer among my ranks. I may need to borrow your eyes next week, when we start load-in.”

#the best intentions

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cuthian · 4 years ago

Text

Dancing in the Rain Chapter Six

Hi everyone!

I hope everyone is doing okay and you're all able to stay safe! <3

This is the last chapter of this part.

Thank you all so much for sticking with me for so long! There will be one more (short) work wrapping things up, with Bucky and the others recovering and tying up things neatly (possibly) that I'm working on right now.

Please, read the tags and be sure to leave a comment with your thoughts!

Love Annaelle

Chapter Six

Thule Society Project Persuasion

[United States of America] Mission date(s): [07/27/2011] to [09/15/2011]

Mission objective

Remanding of the Target to Thule Society custody for optimal reconditioning

Destabilisation of target’s mental health by use of Asset’s previous relation with the target – stage sightings of the Asset to ensure a shock to the target’s system and proceed to further intimidation (scripted recordings) until the target is suitably malleable and open to recalibration.

Mission target

Captain Steve Rogers – threat level 9

Status: extremely enhanced

Mission dates

27/07/2011

- Establishing surveillance in target residence

- Briefing Asset

[…]

19/08/2011

- Mission progress report Asset

- Reconfiguration and recalibration Asset

[…]

15/09/2011

- Progression to Phase Two

[…]

Team members

Brock Rumlow – STRIKE handler

Alexander Pierce – Asset primary handler

Jasper Sitwell – mission planning

ELISA SINCLAIR – head technician and physician

-----------

Lobby of the Avengers Tower, New York, Manhattan, New York State, U.S.A.

12:24 a.m., 3 April 2016

Bucky Barnes / The Asset

The Asset eyed the large blond man dressed as a walking flag in confusion.

The woman—sister, Rebecca, Becky, little Cece—leaned heavily on the metal shoulder, and the Asset briefly considered that that could not be comfortable before his eye was drawn back to the walking American flag, who looked alarmingly like he was about to burst into tears.

“Bucky,” the man said again, blue eyes wide and watery. “You’re Bucky.”

The Asset blinked. The name did not mean much to him, but there was something about the blond man—Steve, Stevie, Captain, sweetheart—that made the Asset’s insides churn and twist, that made his flesh hand itch to reach out to him, to touch and soothe, to…

He—it was a weapon.

It could not soothe, it could not comfort, and it couldn’t find the small ticklish spot just above the blond man’s left elbow and press his fingers to it.

“You are,” the woman—Rebecca, a little voice in his head supplied again, Becky—said to him, her fingers digging into his flesh arm. “Bucky Barnes. Remember?” The Asset—Barnes?—looked down at her, wrinkling its nose in confusion before it decided that there were more pressing matters at hand; mainly that the—Rebecca, that Rebecca seemed to be resting more and more of her weight on him.

“You are injured,” the Barnes-Asset pointed out. “You require medical assistance.”

Rebecca looked up at him blearily. “Alright,” she nodded, before turning to the strange man in green who had taken them from the facility and brought them here. “You need to—you need to keep him safe. Make sure no one can hurt him anymore—protect him.”

The man looked quite baffled, but—to the Barnes-Asset’s surprise—only nodded.

“Okay,” Rebecca said. “Okay, good. Bu—Bucky, you go with him. He’ll keep you safe.”

Barnes-Asset frowned. “The Asset is required to remain in close proximity to ensure your safety,” it protested lightly. “The Asset is not efficient when it is not within range.”

“You don’t need to protect me,” she said immediately, although the Asset privately thought the argument lost most of its merit when she swayed so violently both he and the man in green needed to take her arms to steady her. “Others will take care of me,” she continued, although the Asset noted she was paling rapidly and swaying again.

“Rebecca,” the other, bigger blond carrying a large hammer called out, voice wavering, and when the Barnes-Asset looked at him, the man had moved forward a few paces, holding out a hand towards Rebecca, expression pleading. “Please, let me—”

“Thor,” Rebecca breathed, and she started forward, out of the Barnes-Asset’s grasp, stumbling forward into the large man’s waiting arms. The Barnes-Asset watched as she clutched at the large man’s impressive bicep with one hand, dropping the other to her swollen belly. “We need Eir,” she told the man seriously. “I really don’t feel good, and I need Eir—now.”

Before anyone could say more, she went limp in the other man’s grasp.

There was a beat of silence before thunder outside roared and the big blond man bellowed “Heimdall!”

An explosion of colors filled the entire space abruptly and the sound of it—oddly silent but inexplicably loud at the same time—thundered and echoed in the Barnes-Asset’s skull, leaving its ears ringing and its body sluggish and creaky.

When it looked up, the spot where the bigger blond and Rebecca had stood was empty, an intricate symbol burned into the tiled floor where they had stood. The Barnes-Asset looked at his own big blond, who was gazing between the Asset and the spot where Rebecca had stood with a torn expression and swallowed thickly.

“Well,” the man in green said. “That was dramatic.”

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

Steve Rogers, Becca Barnes and Thor’s Floor in the Avengers Tower, New York, Manhattan, New York State, U.S.A.

3:02 a.m., 3 April 2016

Steve

Steve felt like he’d aged twenty years in the past five hours.

He felt wrung out and exhausted, his body sore and sluggish like it hadn’t been since before he’d received the serum. He would probably have to call Karen-the-therapist soon, would need to schedule more sessions than he’d had in the past year…

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face.

He had no idea what would be happening now.

He wasn’t sure if Becca and Thor had made it to Asgard alright, or even if Becca was alright—Loki had been frustratingly uninformed on her physical condition, and Bucky hadn’t been able to provide more than a cursory “in need of medical attention”—and yet he found it incredibly hard to care.

He found it so insanely difficult to focus on Becca when Bucky was sitting next to him, breathing and alive and real. He looked to the other man, who sat stiffly on one of the highbacked chairs in his kitchen, eyeing everything and everyone in the room with a great deal of suspicion.

He was afraid to think very hard about the circumstances that had led to Bucky sitting alive, breathing and confused on one of Steve’s dining chairs.

He was pretty sure that if he did think about it too deeply—if he did consider what caused the vacant look in Bucky’s eye, what had happened to him that made him look at Steve with a confused frown—he would lose his marbles and go on a killing spree to murder every single one of the sick sons of bitches that had ever dared lay hands on his Bucky, and Steve couldn’t.

Bucky needed him here, not off in the world burning down Hydra bases.

“I will help him sleep,” Loki spoke quietly, drawing Steve’s eyes to where the God of Mischief stood, still as tall and healthy as the last time Steve had seen him. Steve wanted to marvel over Loki’s miraculous revival, his stunning appearance, but he found he barely had the energy to care overly much anymore.

Bucky, who had since moved from his perch on the dining room chair and was prowling around the room, examining corners and books and everything he could get his hands on, looked up at Loki when he spoke, blue eyes wide and apprehensive.

He had not spoken since the lobby, since he had told Becca that he needed to stay close to her to protect her, since she had told him Loki would care for him.

He looked so scared and lost it made Steve’s heart hurt.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded mechanically. “As long as he’s… He’ll be safe, right?” He looked up at Loki with tears still burning in his eyes, breath wheezing in his lungs.

The god nodded, face twisting into an expression of compassion. “I owe Rebecca a debt. I will not let any harm come to him, I assure you.” They were both silent for a moment before Loki spoke again. “I remember what it is like to be unmade. To be… ripped apart and put back together into something you are not. I will not allow him to suffer. I give you my word, Captain.”

Steve nodded jerkily and swallowed thickly, wrapping his arms around himself to… to keep himself from falling apart all over again. “Just…” Steve hesitated. “Ask him. If he wants—don’t just… He deserves to have choices.”

He watched as Loki approached Bucky, offering the other man a smile and a few words, to which Bucky nodded jerkily before Loki waved his hand and Bucky’s head slumped back, his entire body relaxing into what Steve hoped was a peaceful, dreamless sleep as Loki manoeuvred him onto the couch.

“Why didn’t you tell Thor you were alive?” he blurted, wincing a little at his own lack of tact when Loki spun around with an incredulous expression on his face.

“It was too dangerous,” Loki finally allowed, wrinkling his nose a little as he moved back to the kitchen, where Steve stood leaning against the counter. “The All-Father would have me executed for treason in a heartbeat should he find me, and Thor along with me if he tried to hide me.”

Steve opened his mouth, but he found he really didn’t have the words to express what he needed to say. “I’m sorry,” he finally settled on, softly patting his hand on the back of Loki’s shoulder after a brief moment of hesitation. “That must’ve been an incredibly difficult decision to make.”

Loki looked at him as though he’d grown two heads for a long, tense moment before he nodded. “It was. It helped, knowing Thor had the Warriors Three, Sif and you and Rebecca to care for him.”

Steve looked down and sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair when J.A.R.V.I.S. chimed apologetically from the ceiling, “I apologize for the interruption, Captain, but the Lady Carter has requested you join her on the common floor for a short moment.”

He’d forgotten Peggy and Sharon were on their way here at all, too caught up by Becca showing up in the lobby with Bucky and Loki of all people, and he immediately felt like the worst friend in history, because as much as he loved Peggy and liked Sharon, he wasn’t sure he’d be able—and, God forbid, willing—to make time for them right now… now that Bucky was back.

If the glimpses Loki had caught in Bucky’s mind were any indication, Bucky was going to need all the support in the world to recover from his ordeal, and Steve couldn’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t provide any and everything Bucky could ever need.

Steve just didn’t know how to fit his other friends in there too.

“Go,” Loki said calmly, slipping onto one of the barstools and raising an eyebrow when Steve didn’t move. “I’ll keep watch. No more harm will come to him.”

Steve nodded mechanically, moving towards the door even though there was nothing he wanted to do less. He didn’t want to see the others, didn’t want to see Peggy or Sharon, didn’t want to have to deal with the unavoidable fall-out of Steve’s formerly-dead boyfriend suddenly turning up again.

He just wanted to stay here and sit beside Bucky, run his fingers through that long, unkempt hair and make sure that Bucky wasn’t hurting anymore.

He got onto the elevator anyway.

—————

Natasha

Rebecca Barnes Sr. paced around the couch impatiently, tutting disapprovingly every time she passed the elevator. Sharon sat beside her aunt on the couch, a nurse from the medical floor kneeling by her feet with a medical bag folded open to display an array of bandages, band-aids, disinfectant and cotton balls, checking her for more injuries and helping her care for the minor scrapes and bruises that littered her skin.

The sight of the wounds made something deep in Natasha howl with rage, because the other woman was her friend and a good person, and she’d deserved much better than her fiancé cracking her head open on the dresser and locking her up in their basement.

The nurse had already stitched up the large, deep gash that ran diagonally up from Sharon’s left eyebrow into her hair and applied a cooling gel to the swelling around her eye. “You’ll need an x-ray,” the man said in a soft, calming voice. “I don’t think it’s broken, but there might be hairline fracture or a crack that I can’t feel.” He gently pressed his fingers to the bruised and swollen skin just below Sharon’s eye and sighed. “Just to be sure.”

“I’m not going now,” Sharon said, her voice steely, avoiding the nurse’s eye steadily. “I’m fine. We have other things to worry about than whether or not Brock cracked my eye socket.”

“Miss Carter,” the nurse said slowly, but Sharon shook her head sharply, pushing his hand away.

“I said no,” she bit out. “If he did, it’s been broken for at least forty-eight hours. I’m sure I’ll be fine if I wait a few more hours to get it checked out.”

The nurse stared long and hard at her, and Nat was a little impressed that the man didn’t even flinch when Sharon glared back at him, before he sighed and relented. “Alright,” he said. “Fine. But I expect you down at medical by the end of the day.”

“Fine,” Sharon said, staring ahead again, eyes hard and focused on the picture of the entire Avengers group and most of their friends and family at the last 4th of July/Steve’s birthday barbecue, ignoring the nurse as he reached out to tend to her split lip and visibly forcing herself not to respond as her aunt patted a comforting hand on her thigh.

The man heaved a sigh, but accepted defeat and stood, packing up his medical bag.

“End of the day, okay? We gotta check out your eye,” he told Sharon sternly, pointing at her until she nodded grudgingly. The man sighed again but turned and left without further comment.

When the elevator doors closed behind him, Tony turned and looked at her, frowning severely, and Natasha sighed too. She’d prefer to wait until Steve was here to discuss everything she and Tony had found, but there were a few things they needed to get out of the way without him interrupting every five minutes to correct them.

“We have to talk,” she said, stepping forward so all eyes were on her.

The room was full. Bruce and Clint had followed her and Tony up here once Steve had taken Barnes and Loki up to his own floor, and Sharon, Peggy Carter and Becky Barnes had arrived not ten minutes later. Fury, Maria and Phil had, thankfully, let themselves get booted from the Tower, although Natasha didn’t doubt they’d be back—if not for Loki, then for Barnes.

“I imagine we have to talk about a great many things,” Peggy Carter said kindly. “But I suppose you have something specific in mind, dear.”

“Yes,” Natasha said curtly, turning to Tony.

They’d not really discussed how much they would tell the others—not without Steve present.

“The man upstairs with Steve,” she said slowly, “he might be more than just Bucky Barnes.” She and Tony exchanged another glance, and she plowed on before the others could cut in with questions. “We think he might be the Winter Soldier.”

Sharon and Peggy Carter both inhaled sharply, and Clint startled, but the others looked a little uncomprehending.

“He’s…” Nat sighed.

“He’s a myth,” Peggy said sternly. “I looked for the Winter Soldier for the last twenty years of my career—he’s a ghost.”

“Yeah, well,” Tony interjected, pulling up a holographic screen with the documents Nat had given him earlier. “Whatever he is—whatever he became with them… they used him to try to break Steve.” Peggy let out a dry sob and pressed trembling fingers to her mouth, reaching out to pull the holographic screen closer, to read through the horrifying content of the reports.

“Are you sure this is about Steve?” Sharon asked skeptically. “All the names are redacted.”

“The dates match up,” Tony said. “With his breakdown. Before he tried to jump off the Tower. The dates, the times—all of it. I called his therapist, but she wouldn’t say if he ever discussed seeing Barnes with her without his permission, so…”

“We’ll have to bring it up with him,” Clint said.

Tony nodded with a grimace.

“You’re sure?” Becky Barnes said quietly. “Is it worth exposing him to a trigger?”

“We have to know,” Natasha said quietly. “And he needs to know. Think of what this means,” she gestured to the documents. “If it really is Bucky Barnes up there, and this document is real… Think of what they’d have to have done to him to make him consciously hurt Steve, of all people. We need to be prepared for the possibility that…”

She bit her lip and glanced towards Becky Barnes—who was, she realized with a jolt, Bucky’s little sister. “…not everyone who has been exposed to that level of brainwashing can recover.”

“He’s my brother,” Becky Barnes said in a small, soft voice. “And Steve loves him. We can’t—we can’t give up on him.” She looked around at the others when no one spoke, and Natasha felt a great wave of sympathy for the older woman. “We’re not giving up on him before he’s even had a chance,” Becky Barnes said again, sternly.

“No one’s giving up on him, Aunt Beck,” Tony said. “But we have to consider the possibility.”

Bruce heaved a sigh. “Depending on the kind of neurological damage they inflicted on him, it is a valid concern.” Natasha eyed the scientist concernedly—it didn’t look like he’d slept at all in the past forty-eight hours—before she turned her gaze to the twins.

They’d been silent the entire time, and since they were the only ones who’d been—however unwittingly—a part of Hydra recently, they might have valuable insights.

Wanda, who undoubtedly felt her gaze, looked up.

“I remember they spoke of a chair,” Wanda said. “That’s why we ran from them. They thought I didn’t understand if they spoke English—they talked about a chair to make us comply. Maybe that’s what they used on him.”

“Maybe,” Nat conceded. “We’ll have to see what he remembers.”

Everyone fell silent, and Nat noted absently that Sharon had swiped one of the nurse’s cotton balls and was dabbing at her split lip and scraped chin lightly. “J.A.R.V.I.S.,” Tony said after another beat, pacing restlessly behind the sofa, his hair standing up in tufts and dark circles lining his eyes. “Is Cap coming down here or what?”

“Yes,” J.A.R.V.I.S. replied pleasantly as the elevator doors opened and Steve emerged. Nat was actually vaguely impressed that they’d been able to pull Steve away from Barnes—if the man upstairs was indeed who Becca, and now Steve, seemed to think he was.

She had seen Steve grieve Bucky Barnes for years, had been privy to and part of a few private conversations about Steve’s previous relationship with him, and she knew that prying Steve away from Barnes now would likely require a crowbar and more than a few bribes.

Or, apparently, a request from Peggy Carter.

Steve walked out of the elevator looking decidedly worse for the wear already, and she hadn’t even brought up the reports they’d found yet. His eyes were rimmed with red and stained with dark circles and his hair was messy. He had only changed out of the top of his uniform, which left him in his dark blue uniform pants and boots and a dark, tight compression shirt—something that attracted attention of everyone in the room even in the current situation.

Natasha barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

They had more important things to deal with than the potential impropriety of Steve’s wardrobe.

“Steve,” Becky Barnes said immediately, springing back up from the couch with surprising vigour and flexibility for a ninety-year-old. “Is it really—how—how’s he—how, Steve?” She grasped at Steve’s forearms and he held her steady with soft, careful hands.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, sounding small and unsure, and for the first time in years, Natasha remembered how he’d looked in those first few months after they’d gotten him out of the ice. “Loki’s—Loki’s watching him. He helped him sleep.”

“I want to see him,” Becky told him mulishly, and for the first time Nat really saw the resemblance between Becky and Becca. They had the same stubborn set to their jaw, and Steve reacted almost exactly the same way to Becky’s stubborn glare as he did to Becca’s. If the situation hadn’t been quite so dire, she might’ve smiled.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, a deeply resigned expression on his face. “Okay. Has anyone heard from Becca and Thor?” He looked away from Becky, glancing at Nat and Peggy in turn, before looking at Tony. “Anything at all?”

“No,” Tony shook his head. “Nothing.”

Nat ignored the painful twist in her chest at the reminder that no one actually knew how Becca was doing and focused instead on the problems that she could fix.

Steve guided Becky back to the couch where Peggy sat before he shuffled over to the twins and unceremoniously dropped himself on the seat between them. He grinned tiredly at Pietro when the youth stuck his tongue out at him and slung an arm around Wanda when she leaned into him.

It was sweet, Natasha realized with a pang, to see him with them.

They looked up to him, had trusted him before they’d trusted any of the rest of them. Wanda had confided to her once that Steve was like the big brother she and Pietro had always wanted, and Nat really saw that now—Steve was drawing as much comfort from their proximity as they were from his.

That was… that was good, considering the conversation they needed to have.

Sharon set down the cotton ball she had taken from the nurse, apparently entirely unaware of the thin trickle of blood that ran down from her lip to her chin immediately. Instead, she leaned forward, eyeing Steve with a breathless kind of intensity that Natasha recognized all too well. She had spent enough time focusing on the mission, on her tasks, on erasing the red in her ledger, to know when someone was trying to avoid thinking about their personal burdens by focusing on work.

She didn’t begrudge the woman her focus.

If anything, she understood.

“We have some things to discuss,” Natasha said, determinately ignoring the feeling of déjà-vu that hit her abruptly. She took a seat beside Sharon and directed her gaze towards Steve. “It’s not… it’s something that might trigger you—but we think you need to know.”

Steve looked at her with wide, blue eyes, chewing on his lip for a second before he said, “Tell me.”

Tony stepped forward and drew up another holographic screen, this one a lot smaller, more discreet, and pushed it towards Steve. “We found this,” he said slowly. “The dates… I know it’s really hard to talk about, to think about, but…” Tony cut off and Natasha sighed, stepping in smoothly.

“Steve, this implies that they used Barnes to destabilize your mental health. And we—” She glanced towards Tony. “Did you see him? Is that why… is that how—”

Steve looked like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide and startled, and Natasha felt horrible for bringing it up, but they needed to know. If Hydra had brainwashed Barnes to the point that he was willing to hurt Steve of all people, they needed to prepare to deal with that.

“Before we get into that,” Peggy cut in, and Steve looked so relieved he might cry, until Peggy—delicate as ever—said, “The man upstairs… How sure are we that he is, in fact, Bucky Barnes?”

“I know,” Steve insisted passionately. “I would—I would know if it wasn’t him.”

“Steve,” Becky Barnes said. “We have to know for sure. What if he’s a clone or something?”

“He isn’t,” Loki said, suddenly appearing in their midst with a flash of bright green light. Clint shot off an arrow that passed right through the god without doing any damage whatsoever before Natasha had a chance to shoot him, and when she looked, everyone except Steve and Becky Barnes had drawn some sort of weapon and had it aimed at Loki.

The man barely even blinked. “Honestly, no need for those. I am here on behalf of Rebecca, and as long as I am under her command, I am of no danger to you.” Clint scoffed loudly and Natasha could see his and her own scepticism mirrored on several of the faces in the room.

“He owes her a life debt,” Steve piped in. “He’s telling the truth. She told him to protect Bucky so that’s what he’ll do.”

Loki grimaced in distaste but didn’t contradict Steve either.

Huh.

Nat eyed him. Interesting.

“How do you know it is Bucky Barnes?” she asked him cautiously. “You never met the man.”

“Because,” Loki drawled, gesturing towards Steve with a bored expression. “He is whole when he stands beside Barnes. It was a rare thing, you know, to see a man alive in lìkami and munr, absent hugr. Now that Barnes is beside him, his hugr is returned, and he is whole. Surely even you can see it.”

Natasha blinked.

She’d only understood about half of what Loki had said, and yet, she knew what he meant anyway. There was something different about Steve—she hadn’t noticed before, but… she had never noticed that he slumped his shoulders, before. She’d never quite noticed that he tried to make himself smaller, that he seemed dimmed, whereas now…

It was like he was lighter, like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Okay,” Nat said, and though Clint and Tony both looked at her incredulously, she turned back to Steve. “Okay. So he’s really your Bucky Barnes. She gestured towards the documents still displayed on the holographic screen and said, gently, “Did you see him? Is that why you felt so horrible?”

Steve bit his lip harshly, and he seemed to shrink in on himself before he whispered, “I thought… I thought I was imagining it. Karen said it was normal, to see the people you’d lost, so I thought—I just thought I was going through something normal.”

Wanda rubbed her hand over Steve’s arm, and Pietro leaned against him, and Natasha felt almost bad for asking, but this was what they needed to know.

“He started whispering things,” Steve admitted in a small, trembling voice. “Played into the survivor’s guilt. He told me he was waiting for me, that… that I shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer, and that all the others were with him too, that my mam—”

He broke off abruptly and looked away, and Natasha diligently pretended she didn’t see him wipe away the small tears that had run down his cheeks.

“That’s enough,” Becky Barnes said. “Does that match what the file said?”

“Yes,” Natasha nodded. “Hydra used him against you. They knew who he was to you.”

Steve snorted a weak little laugh. “Well, at least they’re quicker on the uptake than the rest of the U.S. I’m pretty sure our relationship was the worst kept secret in the Army—I was so surprised people didn’t actually know when I woke up…”

Nat smiled a little.

“He is the Winter Soldier,” she said. “A ghost story.” Steve looked at her with those wide, baby blue eyes of his, reminding her distinctly of a confused puppy, and she huffed a sigh. “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”

Steve looked distinctly nauseated. “How—how do you know it’s him?” he stuttered. “If he’s a ghost story… How do you know that it’s him?”

She hesitated.

This would not be an easy thing to explain to Steve. Not, she thought, because he would react poorly or because he would not understand, but because she was sure it would break his heart.

“We have a history,” she finally said. “Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff, I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer, so he shot him straight through me. Before that…” she stilled and looked down at her hands, feeling distinctly vulnerable and exposed. “…Before that he and I were in the Red Room together. They let him train us.”

She had been right.

Steve looked faintly green.

“Nicholas is pulling up everything S.H.I.E.L.D. has on the Winter Soldier,” Peggy Carter said primly, leaning forward a little. “But we need to decide if we want to keep this under wraps, and if so, how.”

“What do you mean?” Steve croaked, and Nat diligently pretended not to notice that his eyes were bloodshot and shiny.

Sharon huffed and shook her head. “Think, Steve. Use that big, strategic brain of yours. Barnes obviously wasn’t supposed to saveBecca, and he clearly wasn’t supposed to be discovered. We need to figure out how to handle the media angle if this gets out, and we need to know what to tell other letter agencies when they inevitably come knocking.”

“What we need to know is who was aware of Barnes’ real identity,” Natasha pointed out.

“Well, Brock knows,” Sharon bit out angrily, tossing the cotton ball she’d been using to disinfect her split lip and scraped chin in the little waste basket next to the table.

“We need more information before we can make any decisions,” Steve pointed out, and Natasha noted that he carefully didn’t reply to Sharon’s outburst. “We need to figure out who Brock was working for, why he took Becca, what he was trying to achieve, and how he got his hands on Bucky.”

“How did he survive?” Peggy Carter piped up. “You said he fell off a cliff—no normal person could’ve survived that fall.” She frowned. “Your report mentioned that specifically.”

Nat eyed Steve shrewdly. She didn’t think he would’ve left Barnes unless he was absolutely sure there was no way the man could’ve survived—and yet he had. Carter was right, they did need to know how Barnes had gone from dying at the bottom of a ravine to the most feared assassin of the 20th century.

“Zola,” Steve breathed, his eyes widening with horrified realization.

Natasha frowned in confusion, but Carter—senior—nodded in silent understanding. “Azzano,” she said slowly. “Barnes was experimented on.”

Steve nodded slowly. “They must’ve given him a version of the serum.”

“That would explain a lot,” Peggy Carter agreed, and Natasha nodded in agreement.

The man she’d known had been far too strong to be merely human, and now that Steve mentioned it, she remembered a few instances where the Soldier had been injured on a mission and had shrugged it off like it was nothing—his stoicism had been held as an example for her and the others, and they had fought long and hard to emulate it, but none of them had been quite capable of doing so.

The Soldier had been able to shrug off physical injury like it was nothing—like she had seen Steve do during their longer, more difficult battles.

The Soldier being enhanced too would make a lot of sense. The ultimate counter-weapon.

“Until we know more,” Peggy said slowly, “I think caution and discretion are our best friends. We should keep Barnes’ survival under wraps until we know more, either from him or from other sources.”

“I guess that’s as good a plan as any,” Clint agreed from his spot in the vents, and Natasha nodded while the others made consenting noises. Steve nodded curtly before he rose from his seat and said, stiffly, “I’m going back up. If there’s—if we hear anything more from Thor and Becca—”

“We’ll let you know,” Peggy Carter nodded with a patient smile. “Go see to Barnes, Steve.”

Steve nodded jerkily and stood, but Becky Barnes immediately burst, “I’m coming with you, Steven.”

“Cece, he’s just sleeping,” Steve said beseechingly, but it didn’t seem to deter the older woman, who got to her feet and wobbled over to Steve determinedly.

Natasha watched them, feeling oddly detached, as they disappeared into the elevator.

She kept staring after them for another moment before she dropped into the seat beside Sharon and picked up an abandoned swab to clean up the little streak of blood on her chin.

“Now,” she said as the others gathered around them. “Tell me everything that happened to you.”

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

Fensalir, Valaskialf, Asgard5 April 2016 – 9:02 a.m. ((Earth UCT+1)

Thor

A hushed silence lay across the lush green gardens Thor’s father had once planted for his mother. A deep, mournful silence that draped across Thor’s shoulders like a well-worn cloak, almost as though the latent seiðr in the gardens sensed his downcast mood and acclimated itself to him.

He had always felt at home in these gardens.

Safe. Sheltered. Cherished.

His mother lingered in these gardens. Her touch, though distant, was what had given life to most of the things that bloomed in these fields, and he could feel her lingering, could feel her, however faintly, and took comfort in her presence.

He had long since lost track of how long he had been sitting in the gardens, his back pressed against the rough trunk of a tree with a base wider than he was tall. He clutched the looking glass that Eir had enchanted for him in one hand, casting furtive glances at it every few heartbeats, although the image remained unchanged since Eir had banished him from the infirmary.

In the end, he had only conceded because she had enchanted the mirror for him.

He’d not have left Becca’s side if he’d not been able to look in on her the entire time. Eir had propped up its twin beside the bed Becca slept in, so the looking glass always gave him an unobstructed view of her. He would be able to see when she started to stir, so he could be there when she opened her eyes.

So he could be the one to tell her that… to… he exhaled shakily and set the mirror down on the grass, rubbing both hands across his face.

Eir had confirmed what he had feared from the moment Becca had stumbled into his arms back on Earth. He’d not needed her to confirm it—he… he was a God of Fertility.

He had known, however instinctively, that Becca carried his child, and so he had also known that the life in her womb was no more, even before Eir had mournfully informed him that there was nothing more she could do. According to the healer, the men who’d kidnapped her had dosed with a kind of Midgardian drug to keep her compliant while they took her—a drug that had been entirely unsafe for the baby.

Coupled with the physical trauma she’d sustained…

There hadn’t been anything—there wasn’t anything they could do.

Thor felt oddly numb.

He’d thought, before, that he knew what grief was… that he knew what heartbreak was.

When Loki and his mother had been torn from him, he’d felt as though they had taken the very air that he breathed with them. For a long while, he had felt as though he had very little to live for anymore—and indeed, it seemed the very Norns themselves agreed with him, because the food he tried to consume thereafter tasted like ashes in his mouth and however much he drank, he was never able to satiate his thirst.

There had been a large part of his soul missing, but, in time, he had grown used to the constant ache and constant yearning to see them again.

He would have given anything for just one more hour with his mother, for one more chance to embrace Loki, but now… now he had Loki returned to him, but he had lost his firstborn, and he didn’t think it was a trade he would ever have considered.

Damn the Norns for ever treating his desperate pleas as true requests.

He found it difficult not to linger on… on what-ifs and should-haves. He had run over the events of the night a million times, had considered the many, many different ways he and the Avengers could have gone about rescuing Becca, had considered what forbidding Becca from doing the mission would have meant for their relationship…

There was little to be said and even less that he could do now.

Perhaps if he had not stalled, in the tower, if he had been out searching from the moment she had been taken—perhaps he’d have found her sooner.

It still would not have saved their child, but… perhaps they could have done more.

Perhaps he could have done more.

He should have done more.

He’d known Becca was… a little concerned about taking the mission, but that she’d had enough faith in Steve and the others to set those fears aside and take the mission anyway and that he probably should have insisted she defy the others, but he had believed Steve when they promised it was not, by far, a dangerous mission.

By all rights, it should not have been.

But it had been, and it had left his beautiful mortal in a broken, vulnerable state, and he was powerless. He’d not had much experience feeling thusly, and in this situation he had absolutely no idea how to handle the influx of feelings it brought.

He barely had any idea how to deal with the grief of losing their child. He did not know if he could cope with the knowledge that he could have prevented all of it too.

He both feared and anticipated the moment Becca should awaken, for he was sure she would agree.

Heimdal had told him his Midgardian friends were concerned about Rebecca, and that Loki—and Norns, he’d barely even begun to think about that—was still with them, keeping watch over the other man that had saved Becca—the man she had called Bucky.

Thor had been rather preoccupied at the time, of course, but he did vaguely recall the familiar hue to the man’s hugr. He wasn’t sure why Loki had accepted Becca’s orders as absolute, and he certainly didn’t know what to think of Loki’s decision to hide, to let Thor grieve him, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it.

Thor did know that when the time came, he wished to hear the words directly from his brother.

But now… his glance strayed back to the looking glass, to where Rebecca lay, small and weak. He couldn’t deal with Loki now too—not while Becca was so weak and ill, not when he would have to tell her their child had passed when she woke…

Not when he did not know how to say the words aloud himself yet.

His eyes fell upon the looking glass again, and he noticed the slightest stir in Becca’s features. He had been sleeping beside her for the better part of four years—he knew her tells. She was waking up, and he needed to return to her side.

He reached out to touch the warm glass. “I’m here, Krúttið mitt. You’re in Asgard, you’re safe.”

He stood, very deliberately trying to shake off the melancholy that wrapped around him like a particularly constricting cape, and made his way back to the palace, walking through darkened hallways and deserted corridors, and praised the Norns for not putting anyone in his path right now.

He did not think he could stand having to speak to anyone right now.

The infirmary was, mercifully, also empty—save for Lady Eir, who eyed him meaningfully—and he was able to move into the sequestered alcove where Becca slept unhindered. He stared down at Becca and swallowed thickly, unable to stop himself from reaching out to touch her, to take her hand in his and to rest his other hand on her belly.

Their child still rested there under a spell of preservation, and would until Becca was strong enough to survive the birth.

He did not tear his eyes from her—from his brave, sweet, strong Midgardian—until he heard someone come up behind him. Sif’s warm, calloused hand fell onto his shoulder, and he looked up to find her looking at him with sadness in her eyes. “Have you slept at all?”

“No,” he admitted. “No, I don’t—I couldn’t. I can’t risk not being there when she wakes.”

Sif eyed him shrewdly before she sighed. “You need to sleep,” she insisted quietly. “And eat. Keep up your strength. You’ll need it.”

“For what?” he replied listlessly, eyes still locked on Becca’s still form. “For what, Sif?”

His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he found, not for the first time, that he couldn’t breathe. Becca was unconscious, in critical condition still, Loki was alive and his child—his baby—his firstborn—was dead. His father would probably be delighted.

“I should’ve…” He choked back a sob and shook his head. “I should’ve felt something. I should’ve noticed that something was wrong—I should never have let her go—”

“Thor,” Sif whispered, softly, brokenly, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t stop—

“What good is being a god,” he cried, “if I cannot even protect my own child? My own kvàn.”

He barely heard Lady Sif’s hurried assurances, the empty platitudes meaningless. “It’s not your fault, Thor,” she insisted. “None of this is on you. You did everything—”

“Everything,” Thor repeated hollowly, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Everything in my power. And yet my child will never draw breath. Rebecca may never speak to me again. How am I supposed to…” He shrugged helplessly, and for all that he had been alive for fifteen hundred years, he had never felt more like a powerless child.

“How am I supposed to tell her? How am I supposed to tell her that—that our—that it’s just—”

“I don’t know,” Sif whispered. “I don’t know.”

She let him lean on her for a while, let him grieve and sob until he was… well, not better, but certainly more in control of his emotions. “I’ll need to go to Earth,” he croaked. “Tell our friends what happened.”

“I can do that,” Sif said kindly. “Rebecca will need you here. That is what you must be strong for. I’ll speak to your Midgardians.”

Thor looked up at his friend with an unimaginable amount relief. “Thank you.”

Sif patted his shoulder. “I know there is nothing I can say to ease your suffering, but this I can do.” She squeezed his shoulder again in support before she left, her footsteps echoing just a little in the empty space before the door fell shut behind her.

A part of him wanted to start crying again, wanted to break down and sob and rage and scream and raze the entirety of the villainous Hydra to the ground, burn it all until there was nothing but ashes left—but he could not go.

He could not leave Becca when she would need him.

He rubbed his thumb across her belly in an unconscious gesture he’d repeated a hundred times before, tears burning anew in his eyes. He would never get to sit upon his father’s throne with their child on his knee to claim her—for it was a girl, they’d have a daughter—as his own. He would never partake in the vatni ausinn with her, would not get to bestow the name he had chosen on her—would never get to see his daughter grow up.

He wouldn’t get to introduce his firstborn to their people and wouldn’t get to see Rebecca take on the role of a mother—one she had never let herself want before.

A role he knew she’d been looking forward to, even though it terrified her too.

Tears ran down his cheeks as he bent forward, resting his forehead against the curve of Becca’s belly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, both to Becca and their daughter. “I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.” He exhaled a shaky laugh and continued, “You surprised us—your mother and I—but I was so happy as well. I wish I could’ve met you, my bumbubúi. I wish I could’ve told you everything I planned, that I could’ve… could’ve taught you all the things I wanted to. I love you so much, bumbubúi and I’m so, so sorry that I couldn’t save you.”

Becca stirred again, and he pulled away, wiping a hand across his face to dry his tears before her nose crinkled as she turned her head into the pillow, huffing a tiny sigh. “—hor?”

“Yes, Krúttið mitt,” he whispered, lifting her hand to his lips. “I’m here.”

Her eyes weren’t quite open yet, and Thor was fairly certain she wasn’t quite awake, but her brow was furrowed, and Thor couldn’t resist the urge to smooth out the little wrinkle with his thumb. Becca huffed another sigh, but turned her face towards him nonetheless.

Thor smiled despite himself and pressed another kiss to her hand before squeezing it to his cheek, relishing in the warmth of her skin against his.

She woke slowly, gradually, and a slow, sweet smile tugged on her lips as her eyes fluttered open. “Thor,” she said again, her voice low and rough with disuse, and sweeter than anything he’d heard in hours—he hadn’t realized how afraid he had been of losing her as well, of never hearing her speak again, until she spoke again. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he said again. He pressed another kiss to her hand. “I love you. I love you so much.”

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

Undisclosed Hydra Base, New York City, New York, United States of America

5 April, 2016 – 5:32 PM

Alexander Pierce

“You lost the Asset?”

Pierce made sure his voice was level, perfectly calm as he stared down the man that kneeled at his feet. Brock Rumlow looked distinctly worse for the wear, his face swollen and beaten—and Pierce wondered how many of those bruises had been put on the man’s face by the Asset and how many by the loyal men he had sent to retrieve their rogue agent.

“It’s not my fault,” Rumlow spat. “That bitch had magical fucking back-up! And how was I supposed to know that the Asset would break free?”

Pierce didn’t deign that with a response and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Was a little competence so much to ask?

He was tempted to shoot the man right then and there, because he had been far more trouble than he was worth and Pierce was disgusted with Rumlow’s impulsiveness and downright stupidity, but he refrained. Barnes would’ve known it was Rumlow who’d taken her, since the Asset had ripped off his mask, and even if she didn’t, there was fucking Carter to consider.

No, it’d be far more advantageous to him to arrange for Rumlow to perish at a more convenient time.

His death could be used to secure the Avengers’ gratitude.

“Throw him in the deepest, darkest cell we have,” he told Rollins, who stood just behind Brock, holding the man down on his knees with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

Rollins nodded curtly, and he and two other men dragged Rumlow—who was still spitting inane justifications for the clusterfuck he had left Pierce with—out of his office. “Get me Zola,” he told a technician, who cowered in the corner. “Get me a direct connection to Lehigh. We need to coordinate this mess and control the narrative before it controls us.”

He pulled out his phone and dialled the number of the only person who might give him insight into what the Avengers knew—who might slip up and tell him if they had the Soldier.

“Nick,” he said concernedly as soon as Fury answered. “I just flew back in from L.A. and I heard about Barnes’s kidnapping. She’s been a tremendously loyal employee for us in the past decade—I want to help any way I can. Is there any news?”

To Be Continued

---------

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions:

(1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Dancing in the Rain:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D

#dancing in the rain #ditr #ihwsby sequel #stucky #stucky fanfic #Steve rogers #Bucky Barnes #Thor #RebeccaBarnes #tw:miscarriage #tw: canon-typical violence #tw: gaslighting

2 notes · View notes

vegetacide · 5 years ago

Text

Whump●tober - Ransom

Veg-notables: Second last Whumptober post ::wailssssss:::

TY to @gumnut-logic cause she continues to feed my muse and deal with me :)

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: bit of swearing… actually a bit of swearing has been in all of my posts but I keep forgetting to warm ppl… oops. I work in the construction industry so a bit of swearing is my S.O.P

Characters: Almost the whole gang and an honorable mention

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Previous post can be found HERE

27 Ransom

Enjoy…

oOo

"Thank fuck" Virgil whispered to himself as he stepped onto the gangway and carefully took the stairs from Tracy Two down to the hanger floor.

"Home sweet home huh, Virg?" Gordon grinned tossing arm around his shoulder and unobtrusively leading him toward the lift up to the villa.

"You have no idea."

"Oh I have a few ideas." He chuckled companionably as they made their way across the vast space. "Though you may want to re-admit yourself once you remember that hospital food is so much better than Grandma's cooking… less gut rotting too."

"And here I was just getting used to having a stomach lining again.."

There was a bark of laughter and Gordon and thumping him once on the back. "Holy shit. Scott you hear that? Virg told a joke."

"Will wonders never cease." Came the reply from some behind them as Scott exited the family plan with John hot on his heels.

Kayo appeared as if out of nowhere the other side of Virgil. Silent as ever and Gordon sucked in a breath.

“Damn, Kayo. A little warning would be nice. Friggen quiet as a cat maybe we should put some bells on you.”

She just rolled her eyes and slipped a guiding hand into the crook of Virgil’s arm. “I got this, go give Alan a hand with the bags.”

“Sure thing, Spookio.” He turned back, “Oh, and we could but the bells on a bright pink little choker. You would look great in pink..”

“Not likely” She muttered and shooed Gordon away. “Such a brat.”

“He’s just blowing off steam in the only other way he knows how besides the pool.” Virgil shrugged. He really couldn’t blame him for the need with TI security and the GDF on high alert due to what happened to Scott.

Virgil also suspected that his younger brother was feeling a bit responsible for whatever small part he seemed to have played in things, though he wouldn’t confirm or deny anything. Virgil didn’t bother voicing this as he suspected he was purposefully being left in the dark for one reason or another.

Another thing for Virgil to ponder. It’s not like he had anything else to do besides physio and the painful neuro-therapy he was being subjected to daily. It was also really starting to make him wonder if the Doctor that had been assigned to him was a secret sadist. Pushing him the way she was with a smile on her face despite his grunts of obvious discomfort.

Kayo seemed to like her though so there was that one positive working for her. That and the fact that there had been some improvement the last few days in his recovery. If it had been otherwise Virgil would have protested the torture rather loudly.

Turning his head to brushed a kiss over the crown of her head in appreciation for everything and continued the long walk across the hanger.

Kayo shifted at his side and he got the impression that she was looking at him “How you doing, Big Guy?”

“Happy to be home..looking forward to being anywhere but that blasted hospital.”

She bumped shoulders with him playfully, “Me too” and lifted his hand to brush her lips over his knuckles.

There was still a lot to contend with still but things seemed to be finally heading in the right direction and Virgil took solace in that.

Canting his head he listened to the echoes of sound off the high stone ceiling, the hum of the machinery that sat idle and waiting for action, the shuffle of Scott and John as they brought up the rear. And the distinctive cadence and timbre of the Terrible Two as they starting pitching insults at one another.

God, he’d missed home. The sounds, the smells, the familiar settings and hopefully one day soon, the sights.

Reaching up, he pushed the nearly total blackout sunshades back up his nose as a twinge of pain flared through his skull. The overhead lighting was bright and it was like bolts of agonizing electricity to his overly sensitive, visual hindered ocular senses, a wonderful side effect of his condition and the neuro-therapy that was rewiring his brain and optic nerves. Yippee skippee.

“Headache again?” Kayo’s voice was soft as they rounded the corner to the elevator bay. Pitched for his ears and his ears only, she knew he wouldn’t want to alert the others to his discomfort.

He couldn’t hide it from her. She knew him too well, was too finely tuned to the subtle nuances of his facial expression to be able to disguise with anything but the truth so he nodded slightly and her hand rubbed up his back. “Let’s get you up to bed. You can take a couple of the tablets the Doc proscribed and zone out for a bit.”

She wasn’t going to get a protest from him and when he said nothing he could feel her attention zero in on him. Singularly focused. The worry palpable in the tightness of her grip on his arm.

“Bad one?”

He gave a shrug. “I’ve had worse but..this one has potential.”

He heard the ding of the elevator, caught the blurry glare of twin metal panels opening, the flash of the interior lighting that had him grunting..

She led him in and he settled back against the wall as they waited for John and Scott to catch up.

The huff of discomforted had his head turning, ever the worrier himself when a brother was down and out “You doing okay there Scott?”

His brother was a mass of bruises or so he had been told though contrary to his physical state he attitude was surprising light as of late, floating up above Five for some reason It had been an up-lifting change from the sense of distress that had been hanging over them and the contrast seemed to make things a bit more bearable.

It wasn’t until the mood had shifted to the more positive that Virgil realized just how much it had been weighing on him, pulling him down and making it hard for him to breathe. With that thought in mind, he pulled in a greedy lung full and savoured the salt tang.

“I’m doing.” Came the laboured reply but there was an air of the jovial to it “Bloody ribs. Remind me next time I get the brilliant idea to take on a group of thugs to use something other than my torso for a punching bag. A concussion is more then another to deal with, the rest of this is just bullshit.”

Virgil smiled and couldn’t resist. “Well with how hard your head is it’s really no surprise they went for your soft underbelly.”

“Ouch, is that a jab at my fitness level dear brother?”

“No, just an observation.”

“If you had used what was in your head your torso wouldn’t have been a ‘punching bag’ in the first place.” Came the very logical assessment from John. The first thing he had said since they’d set out for home from the mainland.

“Ya but what would be the fun of that?”

Fighting words if ever Virgil had heard them and he cleared his throat to dispel the growing tension.

It had been a topic of argument destined to be stuck on repeat since Gordon and John had located Scott in a dead end alley surrounded by three very unconscious masked goons. An argument they’d all had a part in, one that had finally had Grandma seeing red and losing her ever loving marbles all over the lot of them.

Reprimanded within an inch of their lives, they’d all gone off to lick their wounds but the issue remained. One of their own, their commander and chief had taken off to parts unknown. His subcutaneous tracker rendered useless by a very sophisticated jammer so they had no way of finding out where he had ventured off to.

His assailant had been well prepared, well trained but the one thing they hadn’t taken into consideration was how wily Scott could be when enticed. They hadn’t counted on him being able to defend himself with as much gusto as he had even with alcohol and drugs in his system.

Or that he’d beefed up his training since his stint in the military. He was a veteran that had seen active combat on multiple fronts, both in the air and out. Kept up his training physically and mentally and had the added benefit of a trained MI6 agent and Covert Ops specialist re-upping his skill set. So of course the guy could defend himself against three very determined individuals who had wanted to take him alive for whatever reason.

The GDF had been livid, the local law enforcement baffled and Grandma had gone on the warpath. So here they all were, back on the island where security could be assured.

Might have been A.M.A but when Sally Tracy put her foot down, there was nothing that could move it...even stubborn brothers that should know better.

Sighing as Scott and John started snipping at each other like teenagers Virgil braced for another onslaught of ‘what ifs’ and ‘should haves’ warfare.

Luckily for them, the elevator doors opened up. Unfortunately it was on the lounge level and Grandma was standing front and center, her foot tapping in annoyance.

She’d returned to the island earlier with Allan and Brains to sort the medbay out and resupply the kitchen. It had been a while since they had all been home together and the food pantry had needed to restock badly. With two iR operatives down for the count eating while off island was going to be limited to supply runs as operations were temporarily suspended.

The GDF was just going to have to put on their big person pants and handle things on their own for a bit.

There had been one concession to their early release from Auckland Memorial and that the addition of a new member their island home for the interim of Virgil’s convalescences. One Doctor Emaline Harris was expected on their island paradise in the next few days to continue his treatments so prepping in advance for her arrival was of the utmost importance.

“Boys, please don’t tell me there is a need for a repeat of earlier because I am not in the mood and I am liable to ground you all like the children you seem to be impersonating.” The all seeing eye of Grandma knew all.

Virgil resisted the urge to chuckle and bit down on his lower lip to hold it in. Last thing he wanted to do was have Grandma focusing in on him. He would rather slink off to his rooms with Kayo under his arm and hide until the Dread Doctor arrived with her torture device of pain.

Luck as usual, was not on his side. “Virgil, honey. How you holding up?”

Crap.

“Fine, Grandma.”

“You look tired.” And this is where the great Smother Hen characteristic originated…

“Been a long day.”

“I am sure it has dear. I heard from that lovely Doc Harris that this morning’s therapy was quite the grueling ordeal.”

Kayo gave his hand a squeeze in supported as their Grandmother stepped into the elevator to ride it up to the living quarters.

“I’ve made some soup. I’ll bring you up some once you and Scott have settled.”

The thanks was said in stereo as Scott and himself replied in unison. The excitement behind their words was ‘epic; and Kayo tittered at his side.

A hand brushed his cheek and he caught the lavender fresh scent of his Grandmother’s lotion. “You’re hurting.” She stated.

If it wasn’t for the fact that his eyes felt like there were about to fall out of his head, Virgil would have rolled them. Scott was over and on him before his Grandmother had even finished pronouncing the “T.”

8-8-8

Even injured as he was, Scott could be a right pain in the ass.

It took some doing but Virgil finally made it to his room, he’d only had to submit to a quick med scan from a portable scanner for it to happen and Scott standing over him as he dutifully popped back a couple of the hospital’s prescribed pain pills to do it.

Feeling loogy as the drug started to kick in, he leaned back against the door as Kayo order the automated blackout blinds down and the in suite lighting to low before taking his hand and tugging him towards the bed.

He shucked his sun shades and tossed them in the general direction of the night stand not really caring if they reached their intended destination or not.

It had been a long, long day of medical appointments, treatments, travel and family bickering and his bed was calling his exhausted and still recovering body home.

“Whoa. Not yet, Big Guy.” Kayo said as she placed a hand on his shoulder effectively stopping his desired belly flop into his mound of pillows and the oh so soft duvet that was beckoning him.

“Sleep..” He mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I know but first the bathroom and then some fresh, comfortable clothing. After that you can crawl in and hibernate for the next few days. No poking, no podding, just sleep” She commanded and turned him towards the loo.

“You promise?” He felt like a child as she turned him to the bathroom and pushed him through the door.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulled it up and over his head before sneaking in to sweep a kiss over his lips. “I promise, even if I have to guard the door to do it.”

“God, I love you.”

Her movements stilled, her hands stopping on the draw string of his jogging pants.

It took him a moment to realize what he’d just let slip. He’d never said those words to her before. True they had been dancing around it for months but with their busy lives and the limited time they actually got to themselves they just hadn’t gotten around to saying it.

“What did you say?” Her voice was quiet in the stillness of the bathroom and he could make out the fast pace of her breath as she stood in front of him. The quick hitching it as it fanned over the taut muscles of his chest.

He opened his mouth a few times, closed it while he gather his wits enough to respond.

The words had tipped so easily off his tongue and it shocked him that he hadn’t made the time or found a way to say them earlier.

Taking both of her soft, capable hands in his, he brushed his thumb over the knuckles and he strained to make out the beautiful, fine boned features of her face.

Seeing no defined edges, just a blurred outline, he dropped his head and let go of her hands. “Nothing, never mind...” He turned towards the direction of the shower, fumbled as he tried to find the handle for the glass enclosure, stubbed his toe the edge of the vanity. Cursing a blue streak he parked his ass on the toilet and the next thing he knew she was in his arms.

Hands on his face she forced him to look at her. Impaired vision or not, didn't seem to matter to her at the moment.

“Don’t you dare.” She spat, anger and frustration bearing down on him. “Don’t you dare brush that off like its nothing".

Her grip eased off. "Say it to me again." She demanded.

"I…"

"No hesitation, just say it". It was implored, the lilt of her voice filled with emotion he couldn't see in her eyes. "I don't care if you can't see me. I don't care if you can never see me again.. no matter what happens after today.. I love you, you big idiot. Now say it before I break your jaw and you have to eat through a straw."

He couldn't help the chuckle at her threat, knowing she was fully capable of following through with it if she so wished.

"Well now, threats of bodily harm aren't going to get you far.".

"You wanna bet." She grinned, looping her arms around his neck and settling in closer to him, her body pressed in tight where she knelt between his knees.

Her tone grew serious again. "No matter what," she repeated again, dropping a tender kiss on his lips. "I want you to know that. Nothing could change the way I feel, nothing So don't hide from me. There's no need to be the altruistic hero here, it's not what either of us want."

He leaned in chasing her lips, finding them without sight and sighing when he struck gold. The kiss was slow and gentle. A lazy sensual meeting that left them both panting. "No, it's definitely not what we want."

"Good." She booped him in the nose and pushed up to her feet. "Now that we have that settled, shower and bed for you because there is no way I will be able to pick your muscle-bound ass off the floor if you decide to flake out right here."

Deciding the likelihood of that was fairly high, he grunted up to his feet and finished divesting himself of clothing.

8-8-8

Showered, changed, snuggled into bed and blissfully numbed out for the time being Virgil sleepily smiled as Kayo crawled in after him.

"Kay?".

"Mmhmm"

"I love you."

Sight or no sight, she would stay by his side and if that was a sacrifice she could contend with, a price she was more than willing to pay, who was he to argue?

Pulling her in close, he whispered the words she wanted to hear in her ear again and drifted off to sleep.

oOo

Epilogue - A week later

Rolling over in bed, Kayo stretched out pleasantly achy muscles and blinked up at the sun lit ceiling. The dabbled early morning light shifting across it as the ocean breeze blowing in from the window made the thin gossamer under curtains dance.

A curious look settled over her features as she pondered what was different. It took her a second to compute with her sleep addled mind but when it registered she pulled herself from the tangle of sheets, slipped into one of Virgil’s t-shirts and wandered over to the open doors.

There was sunlight in their room. A room that for the last few weeks since they had returned, had been shielded against the intrusion for fear of causing a spike of pain to drill through Virgil’s head.. Black-out curtains fully open with the acception of the light, whipsy sheers that sat underneath.

Stepping up the the open glass sliding partitions, she leaned a shoulder against the frame and gave her head a shake of amazement at what she was greeted by.

Virgil was leaning perched at the railing, a cup of coffee at his resting elbows and face turned towards the awe inspiring site of the rising morning sun. Its light playing of the waves far below and flickering through the overhang of nearby palms to flicker playfully across his skin.

Skin that glowed healthily, and warmly with colour and vibrancy. All of the six foot tall, buck ass nude, a hundred and eighty odd pound of it.

Saddling over to him, she picked pinched his mug of the railing and took a sip, her eyes raking over every inch of him.

He turned, brows arched as she stole his morning fuel and she returned the look though her gaze had a hard time staying put on his face with everything all out and the wind and such.

“Hey, are we turning the island into a nudist colony or is this just for my benefit?” She wiggled her brows suggestively and he smiled, skimming a finger across her cheek.

“God, your beautiful.” He whispered, her loose hair brushing over his knuckles as it was caught up in the gentle, salty breeze.

Her smile blossomed across at the unexpected compliment and she was about to reciprocate when her mouth dropped open in shock.

His expression alight with excitement she stepped up to him and pushed up on her toes and stared into his warm brown eyes. The answering happiness she say in their depth had her gasping in elation and she jumped up into his arms crushing his lips to hers. The actions saying so much more than words ever could

His arms pulling her in close, the last few remaining tendrils of tension brought on by weeks of worry finally leaving with the morning fog.

Kissing the tip of her nose, he turned back to watch the spectacular display of light and colour as the sun reached ever higher into the sky. Pushing back the darkness and revealing a world that wasn’t so scary after all, especially with her and his brothers at his side.

It seemed that he’d paid the ransom on his sight in full and the world had once more been returned to him in all its splendor.

oOo

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober2019 #whumptober #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfic #no.27 #ransom #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #virgil/kayo #Em Harris

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