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dongofthewolf · 3 years

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Dancing in the Deepest Oceans- Chapter 3

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Your first date with Abby doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, uhhh yea I did that

Here’s chapter three! It definitely took way longer than I expected to do since I really wanted to get a lot of those requests done, so I’m v sorry about that.

Also I kinda cheated and included someone’s request for a bath scene with Abby in this so shhhhh it’s fine I’m just lazy productive like that okay LOL. I hope you all enjoy (esp if you requested the scene) ! :)

Read the previous chapter here

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You felt like the protagonist in one of those cheesy rom-coms from back in the day; the ones where the girl suddenly stumbles into the arms of her true love and everyone sings a happy song, except this isn’t a movie and also it’s kind of the apocalypse or whatever. You didn’t care though, this was the closest thing to rom-com perfection you were getting and you couldn’t complain, because it was with her.

Though you had only known Abby for a few short days, something inside you couldn’t help but feel like you had known her your entire life. The intimacy of those few stolen glances, the slight brushes of your shoulders, the way your hand fit perfectly in hers; it all felt so natural. You just hoped she felt the same way.

She should be here.

You glanced down at your watch again, it was 8:15. Maybe you had heard her wrong? No, she definitely said eight o clock. Your mind swarmed with possible excuses as to why she wasn’t here; perhaps she thought you were meeting at seven and now she was the one who thought you were standing her up, or maybe she thought you guys were meeting at your room and this was the fault of some kind of miscommunication, or maybe she simply forgot. You racked your brain for any possibilities as to why she wasn’t here, trying your best to neglect the most obvious reason out of denial or maybe fear.

The hallway was dark and quiet, the tile floor cold against your skin as you sat with your knees tucked tightly against your chest. Your back ached from leaning against the steel door, and you had become increasingly more embarrassed every time someone passed by. Their lingering gazes made you want to disappear into the earth beneath you.

For at least an hour, you sat outside her door contemplating whether or not you should wait for her. Was this whole thing a mistake? Your heart began to sink at the frightening possibility that she had been toying with your feelings this whole time, that you were just a naive girl with a childish crush on this person you barely even knew. God, how could you have been so stupid? This is exactly why you never formed attachments; they always ended in heartbreak, disappointment, or both. As more time passed, the fear and sadness that occupied your thoughts slowly began to fade into frustration.

This was dumb. Why were you waiting around for her like some lost kitten? You scoffed at how pathetic you felt. Anger began to rise in your chest as you thought of all the things you’d say to her when you saw her—how you’d scold her for standing you up, dreaming up this gigantic speech about how if she wasn’t interested she should’ve just told you. Or maybe instead of yelling you would just never speak to her again. Give her the silent treatment for the rest of your life. That is what she wanted anyways, right?

As you sat there arguing silently with yourself you heard a pair of heavy footsteps headed towards you. You craned your neck to try and see who or what was approaching you, but the hallway was too dark to get a clear view. Panic quickly replaced the anger that had been occupying your heart just seconds ago as you stood up from your uncomfortable position. You could hear the adrenaline pumping in your ears as you squint your eyes at the dark figure headed towards you. A sudden rush of relief fell over you when a familiar face appeared out of the shadows.

“Y/N.” Manny emerged from the darkness. His hair was slicked back into a bun and he wore a nervous expression on his face. The sole of his boots were caked with a thick layer of mud that left a trail of footprints in the hallways, and you pitied the poor soul who would have to clean it up.

“Where’s Abby?” There was a sharpness to your words. You knew you should've been a bit more conversational (Manny had done nothing to you after all), but after sitting on the floor for an hour, you didn’t feel like wasting time on bullshit small talk. If Abby was going to send Manny to get rid of you instead of doing it herself, then the last thing you cared about right now was seeming polite.

“Right, about that…” You raised your eyebrow, Manny’s expression was difficult to interpret and you could tell he was here to break some kind of news to you, but for some reason it felt like whatever bomb he was about to drop was far worse than what you had expected.

“Manny, what’s going on?” You took a small step towards him, searching his face for an answer.

“Isaac sent Abby and I on a supply run this morning. Nothing too difficult, just transporting a few things to another base but…” Manny looked down at his feet as he contemplated his next words “but we ran into a group of scars on our way back and we got separated.”

You suddenly felt a tinge of guilt for thinking all those things about Abby. “W-what do you mean you got separated? Where’s Abby now?”

Manny’s eyes were fixed to the floor as he delivered the news, his thumbs twiddling together nervously. “I uh… well, I don’t know.” Manny noticed your face twist with anger at his answer and tried to diffuse some of it “But Isaac’s already sent out a group to find her. It’s going to be okay Y/N, Abby is one of Isaac’s top soldiers and you know he’ll do whatever he can to find her.”

You were speechless, but more than anything you were frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for thinking such horrible things about Abby—for having such little faith in her. You wanted to scream at your past self for being so ignorant. Tears began to well in your eyes and Manny’s words did little to comfort you.

“I should be out there.” You marched down the hallway determined to find Abby but Manny was quicker.

His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back “You can’t go out there Y/N, you’ll die. Abby’s smart, okay? She’ll find her way back.”

You tried to resist his grip on your wrist even though you knew he was right. You weren’t a soldier nor did you have the proper training to leave the outpost alone. And while a large part of you knew it was stupid to try and leave, a much bigger part of you didn’t care. You had to find Abby; you were willing to do anything, even if that meant putting yourself in harm's way.

“I don’t care, I have to go out there.” You managed to yank yourself free from his grip and booked it towards the door but Manny was quick and caught you. Wrapping his arms around your stomach and hoisting you over his shoulder Manny carried you into his and Abby’s room while you fought and cried like a little kid.

“Fucking let go of me Manny!” Tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into Manny’s shirt.

When Manny finally set you down on his bed you were exhausted from crying; the only thing left in your heart now was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. You weren’t even allowed to leave the outpost to look for Abby, and the only thing you could do was sit in this wretched room praying she didn’t get mauled by a clicker or hung by a Seraphite.

Manny didn’t feel any better about this than you did, in fact it was his job as Abby’s partner to watch out for her and he failed. Now his best friend was missing and it’s all his fault. The guilt weighed heavily on Manny as he tried to comfort you while you wept silently into his pillow. Even though he couldn’t have possibly predicted the surprise attack, he still felt like this entire thing was his doing. He tried to plead with Isaac to let him go back out and search for Abby but he refused, so Manny figured keeping you safe was the least he could do.

Hours later you got up from Manny’s bed to use the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably went to bother Isaac about Abby or something, he was persistent like that.

You splashed some cold water on your face before tipping your head under the faucet to help ease the dryness in your throat. When you brought your head back up you almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under your eyes like you haven’t slept in days. You looked like a mess. Your hair was wild and unruly but at least with that outfit you had spent way too long picking out, you still looked pretty cute.

At least you were a hot mess.

The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more unrecognizable your face became. And then for reasons you couldn’t explain, you started laughing. A hysterical laugh that echoed off the walls in the bathroom like a sick symphony fell unwillingly from your mouth, and you couldn’t stop. There was something so incredibly sardonic about the events of these past few hours, that your body just decided to break out into a breathless cackle. It was a twisted reaction to a terrifying situation but for some reason it wouldn’t go away. Your stomach began to ache and your throat was dry and sore again. It felt like this sickening nightmare would never end.

You felt tears begin to well up again when you heard something that immediately shook you from your shocked state: the rattling of the doorknob.

Your heart swelled with hope as you ran towards the door, not concerned about waking up the people in the rooms next door with your loud footsteps. The door creaked open, flooding the dark room with a pale yellow light that blinded you, and from that light emerged a figure you knew all too well— one that you had become intimately familiar with.

Abby limped through the door, at first not even realizing you were standing right there. You were looming in the darkness like some kind of monster, and you tried to speak but nothing came out. The only thing that snapped you out of it was the sound of Abby’s voice, hoarse and hushed like she was speaking into the darkness rather than you. God, you almost forgot how much you loved the sound of her voice.

“Y/N?” Abby wasn’t sure if she was imagining this. She thought maybe the expired pain meds had some hallucinatory side effects and you were just what she wanted to see the most. Abby’s doubts faded into nothing when you took a small step into the light. In that moment she knew that this was real—that you were real.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights you saw her face and gasped. To say Abby was in rough shape would be putting it lightly. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and body, and her clothes were absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. You ran into her arms to embrace her tightly and Abby winced at the contact. Quickly you pulled back out of fear you hurt her, but Abby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back in.

Abby let out a loud exhale and for a small moment the jabbing pains all over her body ceased to exist. The only thing occupying her mind was the warmth of your body—how she could feel your heart beating with how tightly she was holding you, and she could finally exhale.

When you pulled away, a flood of emotions suddenly began to flow through you, filling you to the brim until the only words you could manage to mutter out through choked sobs were “I thought you were-“

“I know. I’m sorry.” There was a somber expression on Abby’s face as she wiped the tears from your cheek with the pads of her thumbs.

You sniffed, looking up at her, you cleared your throat before speaking “Jesus Abby, your face.“ you softly grabbed Abby’s chin, examining her injuries in the light. There were crimson slices all over her face, and she was beaten black and blue. A particularly deep cut on her forehead had been stitched carefully and there was a cotton bandage wrapped around her left forearm. The state of your distress now seemed like peanuts compared to Abby’s state.

Without thinking you hugged Abby again tightly, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. Abby’s eyes were closed when you wrapped your arms around her, her eyebrows were furrowed and you weren’t sure if she was about to cry or scream. Though you didn’t know much about Abby, you did know she was a soldier—a warrior who wasn’t disturbed easily. You had no idea what she had just been through, but whatever happened had shaken her up pretty good.

“Here.” Bringing your arms up to the strap of her backpack, you helped her ease it off her shoulder. She let out a breath of relief as you lifted the weight from her back and placed it near the door.

Looking at Abby now you finally realized how dirty she was. There was mud and grime all over her clothes and her braid was loose and unruly.

“Hey, uh I’ll run a bath for you, just wait here.” Considering her state you figured a bath would be more relaxing than a shower. Besides, you needed to feel useful right now, and if that meant taking care of Abby for a bit? You didn’t mind at all.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the bathroom and laid out a small towel on the tile floor. Turning on the faucet, you placed the plug in the tub and made your way to Abby, guiding her to the edge of the tub. “Let me know if the water is too hot, okay?”

Abby nodded as she ran her hand under the running water, letting the warmth fall between her fingers. When the tub was full, you turned off the faucet and stood up, using Abby’s shoulders to help steady you as you started for the door but something stopped you.

“Wait-“ You stopped, Abby’s hand was over the one you placed on your shoulder, securing it there so you wouldn’t leave. She looked at you with pleading eyes as she spoke “Can… can you stay?” Abby didn’t say anything more but you could tell by the look in her eyes she needed you here.

“Sure. I’ll turn around and you can get undressed.” You turned to face the door, looking down at the tile floor as you traced the crevices with your finger. The only sound that could be heard was the droplets of water that fell from the faucet echoing against the walls and the soft rustling of Abby removing her clothes. Eventually you heard Abby lower herself into the tub, she let out a loud sigh as the tension in her muscles dissipated from the warm water.

“You can turn around now.” Abby’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

Slowly you turned around to see Abby sitting in the tub, her legs tucked against her chest as she hugged herself tightly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor of the tub while she rested her chin on her knee. It broke your heart when you saw her injuries in the light. There were deep purple bruises along her shoulder blades and scabbed over cuts along her arms and legs. You also saw scars, a lot of them. Some were old and faded, while others were new, probably sustained within the last couple of weeks.

The steam from the water floated up, fogging the mirrors and warming the room. You made your way to the edge of the tub with a small washcloth, dipping it into the water just slightly. “Here.”

Bringing your finger to Abby’s chin you lifted her eyes to face yours. Her features softened when you met her gaze and lightly you brought the washcloth to her face. Careful to avoid the stitches on her forehead, you rid the dirt from her face, dipping the cloth into the water every once in a while before bringing it back to her face.

Her freckles were more prominent in the light and her eyes stuck attentively studying your movements. When all the grime was gone, you couldn’t help but notice a whisper of a blush on Abby’s cheeks.

“One hell of a first date, huh?” Abby spoke seriously but you could see a hint of a smirk on the edge of her mouth. A bit of her normal self was beginning to return.

Sitting up more straight now you gave her a small smile. “This is definitely the most interesting one I’ve ever been on.”

You reached for her braid, undoing the elastic and separating the strands from each other while Abby spoke. “Oh so you’ve never bathed someone during a first date?”

“I can confidently say that this is my first.” Grabbing the small bar of soap from the dish in the corner, you dipped it into the water and lathered it between your fingers.

The soap filled the air with the scent of pine and rain and you sighed at the smell. It filled your senses and reminded you of the first time you saw her. Not the time in the cafeteria but on that rainy day when you bumped into her for the first time. You inhaled deeply; it smelled like her.

Gently you began massaging the bubbles into Abby’s hair. Weaving the blonde locks through your fingers, and purposely taking longer than necessary. Watching closely as Abby’s muscles relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed from your touch.

“Lean back.” Shielding her face from the water you grabbed a cup and poured the water over her head, letting the bubbles wash away from her scalp and into the water. “Is this okay?”

Abby hummed in response and you took that as a yes. You repeated the process while you washed the soap from her hair, doing it a couple more times than needed because you knew it calmed her.

The bathroom was quiet again, the only sound coming from the steady flow of water from the cup onto her head, and into the water. It was peaceful, and the both of you were content in this familiar silence. Appreciating each other’s company without the need to fill the air.

When you were done you sat up and laid out a towel for Abby, drying your hands on your shirt. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes, just give me a sec.”

You left Abby to dry off while you searched for some clean clothes. Grabbing what you assumed was a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants, you made your way back to the bathroom. Standing outside the door, you knocked lightly. “Can I come in?”

Before you could wait for an answer, Abby opened the door a bit, hiding herself behind it. You handed Abby the clothes and she gave you an appreciative smile, it was small but genuine. “Thanks.”

You sat beside the bathroom door waiting for Abby and trying not to think about the fact that she could’ve died out there. She was here and that’s all that mattered for now.

Your mind wandered as you picked at your sleeve, you noticed there were a few wet spots on your shirt from the edge of the tub. The cool air made you shiver and you regretted not bringing a sweater, even if this was supposed to be a night in.

When Abby finally emerged from the bathroom you quickly stood up, unsure of what to do next. Her hair was still damp and spread across her shoulders; this was the first time you had ever seen her without that signature braid and you were in awe of how beautiful she looked. It was such a strange thought but it was the only thing occupying your mind. There was something so rare about seeing her like this that you couldn’t stop the flutter in your heart when it happened.

Grabbing her hand, you led her to the bed on the opposite side of Manny’s and pulled the covers back so she could slip in. When she settled under the sheets you neatly tucked her in before standing up again.

You didn’t know what to do now. Would it be rude to stay? Abby clearly needed the rest, but something in you desperately wanted to stay. You decided to let her sleep and started towards the door when you heard a small voice from beneath the covers. “Stay. Please.”

Abby’s voice was quiet and you could hear the exhaustion behind it. You looked at her with a smile and sat down on the bed next to her, pushing a strand of hair from her forehead before smoothing it down softly. She looked at you apologetically as you caressed her head, and you gave her a look of reassurance even if you were scared out of your mind. Her eyes fluttered closed and her features softened from your touch. You stayed like this for a while, continuing even after her breathing had slowed and you knew she was asleep.

You stayed up watching her sleep; studying the way her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small breaths. She looked so peaceful.

A small teardrop escaped from your eye, and you quickly wiped it away. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last time she’d be like this; battered and bruised and fighting a war that seemed to never end. It hurt your heart to know that she was on this path of self-destruction, but what hurt most was knowing she’d likely never stop.

You tried not to think about that right now. Eventually letting your attention fall onto the wet shirt that was still stuck to different parts of your body. Removing the item you walked over to the drawer where you had found the clothes for Abby and slipped on one of her t-shirts. It was devastatingly oversized on you but it was warm and smelled like her.

You settled onto the space next to Abby’s bed, ignoring the ache in your back as you lay flat on the floor beneath you. Though the pain was worth enduring with the knowledge that Abby was here, and that’s all that mattered to you right now.

While you lay on the floor you began thinking about how different things were just hours ago. It wasn’t long ago that you were practically dancing like an idiot in your mirror because you were going on a date with Abby. It’s strange how many emotions you had gone through in one day, you were almost positive you had broken some kind of record. You chuckled at yourself; surely no one was going to spontaneously break out into a song like in the movies, but you didn’t mind. This was enough— being here with Abby was enough.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body and you quickly felt your eyes becoming heavier. The floor was beginning to feel a lot more comfier than when you had sat down and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us 2 #fxf #fluff #angst #definitely did not use a The Cure song for my chapter title

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writemekpop · 4 years

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Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

783 notes · View notes

jenoptimist · 3 years

Text

request:

can i request something with lucas? 💖

✮ Pairing: yukhei x reader (gender neutral)

✮ Genre: fluff | werewolf!au

✮ Additional info: accidental marriage (werewolf style)

✮ Word count: 5.6k

♡ Yakult says: thank you for your request !! i was a clown when i said i’d have it up before the new year 🤠 but well here it is nonie !! i hope you like it 💙

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The moon hung big, bright and beautiful in the dark sky as it illuminated the thick forest. The brightness of the surrounding stars didn’t even compare. Not one bit. You stood up from your position on the porch and stretched your arms and legs, the tattoo on the inner part of your wrist tingling. You watched with impatience as your wolves emerge from the trees and you couldn’t resist the urge to run over to them, the soles of your feet becoming slightly wet due to the damp grass. You couldn’t go with them as they raced through the forest, no matter how much you pleaded, so you wanted to be in on their joyous energy. They were quick to pounce on you, hard enough to tackle you to the ground where you soon find yourself covered by them.

“Finally!” You said, feigning exasperation as they surrounded you and took turns rubbing their snouts in the crook of your neck, effectively scenting you, “took you guys long enough!” They couldn’t talk to you, at least not in their shifted states, so you moved so that you could stand up and then took off to warm up inside the Wong residence without so much as a warning. They weren’t too far behind you, evidently not burning through their energy just yet.

Once on the porch, the boys shifted back into their human forms. Their voices overlapped each other as they walked in, telltale sounds of them shoving at one another through the back door good naturedly. You kept your eyes away from them as they entered, stared pointedly at the variety of colorful magnets that were on the fridge. Nudity didn’t bother them in the slightest simply because it was in their nature. However it was not in yours. You were just a human that somehow wormed your way into their pack - you’d often jokingly said that they just couldn’t resist your charm - and so nudity didn’t come as naturally to you as it did them.

“Aw,” cooed Yangyang in that playful tone of his, “still shy after all this time, y/n?” That earned him nothing but your middle finger which resulted in laughter from the others.

“I’ll order some pizza so go shower and get dressed.” You told them when they stopped laughing, already grabbing your phone from where you placed it near the microwave earlier. They let out a chorus of cheers, thanking you by ruffling your hair while they passed by you. The last hand lingered slightly; it lowered from the crown of your head to your nape before skimming over to the crook of your neck and stayed there, warm and heavy. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Yukhei. It was the large size of his hand that always gave him away.

“There’s money in the hallway, under the orchids.”

“I know,” you said while lowering your phone slightly so that you could turn your head towards him, “there always is.”

Try as you might, your eyes seemed to have a will of their own as they trailed from his eyes to the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips and then slowly, very slowly, your eyes roamed down his neck and followed the lines of his collarbones. Remembering yourself, you lifted your gaze, practically looking at him through your lashes, and found him staring at you intensely; there was definitely something in those dark eyes of his. Whatever it was, there was one thing that you were certain of: it was a combination of both man and wolf. It was evident from the color of his eyes, while not fully changed they contained a sliver of gold, just around the edges. You couldn’t decipher what it meant and you weren’t too eager to ask the others either—it would probably resulting in them teasing you, like they always did.

His warm hand lightly squeezed you for a fraction of a second and then he was off, striding towards the direction of the hallway so that he could join the others upstairs. Against your better judgement, along with the mentality that you already crossed the line earlier, anyway so this couldn’t be a bad thing to do, you watched him go. Your eyes focused on the smooth and tanned expanse of his upper back, not daring to look any lower because you had already went passed the line further than intended—it also felt wrong and creepy if you did. You shifted your stare to your phone, not wanting to be caught practically gawking at his behind when he would inevitably turn so that he could go up the stairs.

After having your fill of pizza - Dejun and Yangyang bickered for the last slice - the eight of you took your respective seats; Kun, Yongqin, Dejun and Kunhang squished together on the largest couch on the left side of the room while you sat on the other couch, with Sicheng on the far and while Yangyang and Yukhei were on either side of you. As the start of Ocean’s Eleven played on the TV, you tried very hard not to concentrate on your left thigh, where you could practically feel the heat of Yukhei’s hand underneath your joggers. Touching between all of you was a regular occurrence, heck Yangyang was even leaning into you, but it was different with Yukhei. His touches lingered the way your stares on him did; sometimes they were feather light, fleeting, and other times they were heavy and prolonged, as if you’d disappear if he didn’t have a grip on you—like last year when you almost. . .when the incident with the wendigo happened.

Three and a half movies in, Dejun, Kunhang and Yangyang were sound asleep. Kun and Yongqin had taken it upon themselves to clear up the space a little and rearranged the sleeping boys into much more comfortable positions. You would have helped them but your parents were expecting you to return home. They understood your connection with them - after what happened last year it was important that they knew the truth - but they valued family time.

“Thanks for walking me back,” you said as you and Yukhei reached your driveway. Although your living room windows were covered by a set of blinds and curtains, the lampshade was still visible. Yukhei flashed you a quick smile and a quick shrug of his shoulders.

“Goodnight.” He replied, stopping just a handful of steps away from where you stood in front of your door. You returned his words to him and just as you turned and unlocked the door, one foot barely inside the house, he said, “oh hold on!” There was the sound of his shoes tapping against the pavement in rhythmically as he jogged towards you. “I forgot to give this to you earlier.” His hand was fisted and stretched out to you. When you held out your opened palm underneath it, he released his hold from the object. It was an agate rock, you could tell by the lines and how it had several colors. “I got it during our run.” Yukhei said while he peeked at you through his lashes. He wore a small, shy smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back and forth between his heel and the balls of his feet. He looked positively endearing, especially with the way the moon casted its light on him.

You ran your thumb across it’s smooth surface, secretly pleased that he thought of you. It probably didn’t mean anything (even though you desparately wanted it to) because the others did it, too. On one, most recent, occasion Kunhang bought the two of you matching cat shaped night lights just because. So, really, Yukhei most likely meant nothing about it; he just happened to spot a rock that he thought you might like. Now if only you could convince your heart that. Along with the fluttering in it that you felt, there was a rush of warmth that flooded through your entire system. Hopefully it wasn’t noticeable—their senses, as well as their healing, weren’t as enhanced as usual during the full moon which served to be in your favor at the moment.

“Thank you,” you finally said, a smile that stretched from ear to ear as you closed your hand around it. “I love it.” Although he barely showed it, you could tell he was relieved. Yukhei smiled softly at you, his eyes full of joy. “Goodnight, again. Text me when you get home.” You could feel his eyes on you as you walked in and once you shut the door, you were quick to look through the peephole to make sure that nothing happened to him while he walked off.

Later when you were cozy in your bed, marvelling at the rock, lifting it up so that the moonlight could kiss it through your window, your phone buzzed. Setting the rock on your beside table, you patted around your duvet for your phone.

from: xuxi

made it back in one piece!!

With the text came a picture of him, thumb raised. Yongqin was making a silly face in the back while Sicheng formed a ‘V’ with his index and middle finger, his face neutral as if he wasn’t originally intended to be in the picture. It coaxed a small huff of laughter from you. You were quick to send him a text back and then you repositioned yourself, closing your eyes so that you could go to sleep.

There was something different about you when you woke up. It wasn’t noticeable, not at first, but the more awake and alert you became, the more you were aware of the thrumming? No. Current. It felt like somebody had inserted wires inside of you while you were asleep, somehow, with the buzzing that you could feel inside your body. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely there although, surprisingly enough, it didn’t feel wrong for it to be there. If you weren’t in the know (read: if you didn’t know about werewolves) you could have chalked it up to excess energy. But seeing as you did know about the supernatural, whatever had happened to you overnight could be a problem. Thankfully, however, the current was faint. Faint enough that you could probably forget about it. Unfortunately, a habit of yours was that once you noticed something, you couldn’t stop concentrating on it.

The panic set in when, after eating your breakfast and rushing to work, the feeling was still there. It was like an itch but no matter how hard you tried to forget about it or subtly shake it out, nothing happened. In fact the exact opposite happened; it became just that bit stronger, as if to say, ‘hey I’m still here’. Thankfully it was a slow day at work which allowed you to think about what could have caused your current condition? Situation? You didn’t even know what to call it. There weren’t any current threats or anyone who posed danger that you knew of. Maybe some fae casted this one you? No. That didn’t make any sense. The fae may have been known for trickery and deceit but they wouldn’t do anything to anyone who didn’t strike a bargain with them.

By the time you were on your break, your head was practically pounding at the amount of possiblities you had thought of. You took a bite of your panini, staring out the window of the café you decided to eat at. Trying not to get caught up in thinking again - you had done enough for the day - you focused on watching the people that passed by. A few bites into your sandwich, your tattoo tingled. It didn’t override the other current in your body in the slightest, not that it could, because it only affected the skin where your tattoo was. You wondered who was out and about. It could be anybody since it was a Saturday so none of you had any lectures—although Kunhang did mention that he would be in the campus to work on his project today so it couldn’t be him. Kunhang, bless his heart, tried to explain his project to you and you were nothing short of confusion by the end of it. You and engineering simply did not mix, like oil and water, but it was nice to watch him speak about something that he was clearly interested in.

The tingling stopped as soon as you found yourself face to face with Yukhei, who stood on the other side of the glass. When you locked eyes with him, he was quick to wave and then weave his way through the sea of bodies moving in two opposite directions so that he could enter the café. He made a beeline towards you and spared no time in occupying the seat opposite you, although he stood up almost immediately.

After a quick, “I’ll go get us a drink,” he was off. You didn’t even see his gaze wander to your empty cup. There was that pleased feeling again, the one that warmed up the inside of your chest and spread itself to the rest of your body. You bit the inside of your cheek and forced yourself to tamper it down. It meant nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. You seared the word into your mind but it didn’t do anything to dissipate the fluttering in your heart. When he came back, two steaming beverages in hand, the two of you fell into an easy conversation. It hardly took any effort to get lost in Yukhei whenever he spoke because he always spoke with his whole body; his eyes bursting with emotion, the various facial expressions he displayed and how he used his hands to go along with his words. He was telling you about the shenanigans Bella had gotten herself into that morning, his voice full of both amusement and fondness. You did nothing but listen to him, lips curled into an affectionate smile while your cheek laid in the palm of your hand.

It was only after the two of you said your goodbyes that you realized that the current stopped when you were in Yukhei’s presence. The gears in your head turned, perhaps instead of a current, it was a pull. A pull towards Yukhei. That was ridiculous, though. Why would that be the case? You were probably just mixing up your feelings for him with the current or something. You made a plan to ask Kun and Sicheng what they thought because if anyone could provide you with answers, it would be those two brainiacs.

When your shift ended, you were quick to leave the building and call Kun so that he was aware that you were going over to the apartment that he shared with Sicheng.

“Wait, y/n,” concern colored Kun’s voice, “you’re not in any trouble, are you?”

“No,” you assured, “but you’d know if I was, wouldn’t you?” It was an alpha thing, you remembered him telling you when you woke up in the hospital and had a boatload of questions. It was because of that alpha quirk that he found you.

“Yeah,” his voice took a softness to it before he cleared it away, “I’d know. Sicheng is already here, by the way, and so is Yongqin. He’s asking if you could pick up some Doritos on your way.” You gave him an affirmative, feeling lucky that the two people you were looking for were in the same spot.

You all but sprinted to Kun and Sicheng’s apartment, the handle of a paper bag full of various snacks in your hand. The usual pleasantries were exchanged which consisted of mainly scenting rather than words. And then once the snacks were distributed on the coffee table in the living room, the four of you were down to business.

“Hold on, so, you just woke up and, what, bam there it was?” Yongqin asked through a mouthful of chips. From beside him Sicheng simultaneously flipped onto the next page of the grimoire with one hand, which he had on loan from the local coven, and stuffed a handful of chips with the other. His eyes scanned the two pages lightning fast before turning them, decidedly not finding whatever he thought the solution was for your current problem. Ha. Current problem.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, popping some Maltesers into your mouth. You tilted the bag of Maltesers in Kun’s direction on your right and retracted when he shook his head in refusal. His brows were furrowed, head tilted as he chewed on his bottom lip. Not wanting to disrupt his train of thought, you shrugged at Yongqin and said, “it could be worse.”

“I’ve got nothing,” Sicheng said as he closed the grimoire. “I could ask Jaehyun but if it’s not in his grimoire then I doubt he’d know. I’ll text him anyway, just in case.”

“Wait don’t,” Kun ordered. When the the three of you looked at him, he was staring at you with the same contemplative expression that he had been wearing since you told them about your situation. “Yukhei walked you home last night, right?” You nodded, wondering what theory he had come up with. “By any chance, did he give you something?”

You smiled brightly, “yeah, look!” The rock was nestled inside the pocket of your jeans because you didn’t want to leave it at home, you thought of it as a charm of some sort, and you made quick work of fishing it out so that you could show them. “Isn’t it so pretty?” Yongqin agreed whereas the other two traded looks with each other.

“Oh,” Sicheng breathed out, as if he connected all the dots which, knowing him, he probably did. He glanced at you before looking back at Kun. Their conversation was silent; nothing but a series of brow movements. Dread immediately flooded your system, your outstretched hand dropping onto your lap. Whatever happened to you was probably horrible, considering that they didn’t outright say what they thought it was. You thumbed at your rock to try and soothe your nerves while you waited for them to reveal whatever it was that they figured out.

Yongqin jerked suddenly, eyes wide with surprise as he spread his arms out wildly, smacking Sicheng square on the chest. “You married Yukhei?!”

You returned his surprised expression with one of disbelief. “I think I’d know if I got married to him.”

“No,” Kun said softly, “he’s right. Y/n you”-he arched a brow at Yongqin-“bonded with Yukhei last night.”

“What! But- I couldn’t have.” You all but exclaimed. “How?”

“Everything witnessed by the moon, specifically the full moon, is binding for werewolves. When a wolf, or a human in a pack for that matter, gives a token to another under the moon it takes full effect. Although it only works when there are particularly strong feelings involved.” Sicheng explained in a tone that was both gentle and matter-of-fact.

Oh great. So all this happened because your feelings ran extremely deep for Yukhei to the point where you got werewolf married to him. All he was doing was being his usual self and the moon went ahead and bound the two of you together because of your feelings. It must have been the immense joy you felt, on top of your feelings for him, about the fact that he saw a pretty rock and thought of you. It felt a little bit pathetic in a way. Yukhei probably didn’t even want to be married to you, werewolf married or not. He called you a ‘good buddy’ two weeks ago! There was absolutely no way he thought of you as marriage material at all! You felt a little ill all of a sudden. While you may have fantasized about being married to him - it was one of the many scenarios you conjured up when you closed your eyes and waited for sleep to take you - you never wanted it to happen like this—non-consensual and without meaning.

“Don’t worry!” Kun rushed in, “you can undo it. All you have to do is give the token back to him at the next full moon then the bond will be dissolved.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you have to give him a token and then you’ll be together forever.” Yongqin piped up. You thought as much. After all, werewolves never did anything in halves when it came to their love lives. “The current will disappear eventually, too. Or at least it should.”

“Perfect,” you said with false cheer before laying back on the couch, groaning as you squeezed your eyes shut. Then you sat up, all but yelling, “please don’t tell Yukhei!” Sicheng looked as though he wanted to disagree but you silently pleaded at him until he dutifully nodded. Kun and Yongqin followed his lead. “I’ll tell him myself.” You mumbled, dread already creeping up inside of your system at the thought of it.

There was a couple of minutes of silence before Yongqin spoke up. “It could be worse.” He said, mimicking your words from earlier.

A bubble of hysteric laughter escaped your lips before you agreed. It really, really could have been worse.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Yukhei said over the phone. You could hear the frown in his voice and could already picture the expression he wore on his face. There was hurt there too, just a hint as if he was trying not to let it show, and it made you hate yourself a little bit more, especially since the statement was true. You had started avoiding him since the revelation of your marriage three weeks ago. Confrontation was never your strong suit and it doubled in this particular situation because not only would you have to tell him that the two of you were accidentally werewolf married, but also because your feelings regarding him would be out in the open. The full moon was in a couple of days, however, so it would all be over soon.

“Sorry I’ve been busy,” the words felt like ash in your mouth. “We can hang out later though, if you’re free.” Half of you hoped he was and the other hoped that he wasn’t—if he was free then you didn’t know how you could look at him and not think, ‘we’re married’ or similarly ‘we’re bound’ over and over again.

“Yeah ‘course I am! I’m working on something with Kunhang right now, we’re just taking a break, so he’ll probably stick around with us. I’ll text you when we’re done.”

“Sounds good,” and it really did because with Kunhang there maybe you wouldn’t have to think about your marriage to his best friend or worse, accidentally tell him. “See you later!”

Later came sooner than expected. Time seemed to pass in a blink of an eye and so you found yourself in front of the Wong residence, waiting for someone to open the door for you. They definitely would have heard you as you were walking up their driveaway and normally, Yukhei’s little brother would have opened the door already so you assumed he was out with his friends. The door swung open to reveal Mrs.Wong - your, oh God, secret mother-in-law - who all but beamed when she saw you and beckoned you inside.

“It’s been a while,” she said after she closed the door behind her. Within a second she had an arm around your waist and lead you to the kitchen. “You came in just in time! Someone from my book club gave me her curry receipe and I just finished making it.” She was quick to pass you a spoonful of the dish, watching you in expectation as you tasted it. “Too salty?” She asked and then smiled delightedly when you assured her that it was lovely. “That’s dinner sorted,” she said as she placed the lid back on the pot. “Now, tell me, what’s the latest gossip in town these days.”

Halfway through telling her about how apparently there was drama in the Zhao family because of the late Mr.Zhao’s will (some even suspected that he was murdered but you highly doubted it), Yukhei - your secret husband - and Kunhang walked in. Yukhei immediately made his way towards you, placing a hand on the crook of your neck which he slowly moved downwards to rest in the middle of your shoulder blades. It stayed there until Kunhang took the seat beside you and started chatting animatedly about what he and Yukhei were working on. Yukhei’s stare practically seared the side of your head but you refused to look at him. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mrs.Wong look slyly between you and her son and you hoped that she didn’t figure it out—silly considering she herself was a ‘wolf and therefore would definitely work it out. But, still, you hoped.

“The others are coming by later,” Yukhei informed you and Kunhang, his eyes locked on his phone as he tapped away. The three of you had moved to his room a few minutes ago. Once he finished typing, he stood up and said, “I’ll be back.” Then left his room.

There was a beat of silence as you scrolled through your Instagram feed, double tapping on pictures while Kunhang played a game on his phone that he recently downloaded. He either completed a level or his character failed because he lowered his phone and looked at you, waiting until you returned his stare before he spoke.

“You know,” he started, shifting his legs until he was in a more comfortable position, “he was pretty torn up about not seeing you lately.” You bobbed your head. “And if this is about the token he gave you—”

You shot up immediately. “How did you know about that?” Did Dejun and Yangyang know, too? But the others said they wouldn’t say anything or, well, not to Yukhei at least. Unless they were all in the know?

“Who do you think gave him the idea?” He asked rhetorically and then launched into how he, Dejun and Yangyang helped Yukhei with his plan. “The token could have been anything because it’s the thought that counts but he found that rock and polished it ‘cause he thought you’d like it.”

Your lips parted in shock while your brain scrambled for something, anything, to say. So Yukhei did want to be werewolf married to you? He had feelings for you? He went to the trouble of finding a rock and polishing it because he thought you’d like it? It felt like a dream come true. Suddenly, his shy demeanor on that night made sense. Being bound to him wasn’t horrible - life was short and you knew it - but you did wish that he asked you on a date—the two of you could have done anything; a picnic, go to the cinema or drive to the next town over.

“He was really nervous about the whole thing, y’know? I mean I thought you’d definitely say yes because it’s not like he was asking for your hand in marriage or anything,”-wait, what?-“he just wanted to court you.”

“Kunhang,” you said slowly, “we are married. I asked Kun and Sicheng and he- we’re- he didn’t ask to court me.” Even though he did accidentally marry you, at least you were aware that he liked you back. Courting, like all other things involved in a ‘wolf’s love life, was considered serious business.

“Oh shit,” Kunhang exclaimed, slapping a hand on his mouth with wide eyes.

Yukhei chose to re-enter his room at that moment. His brows furrowed as he looked back and forth between the two of you. “What’s wrong?”

Kunhang’s hand slid from his mouth, about to speak when you quickly said, “I was telling him about how some people think Mr.Zhao was murdered.” You gave Kunhang a brief, pleading look.

Yukhei huffed out a laugh, “and he believed it? Dude there’s no way. They would have said so when they examined the body.”

“Exactly what I said!” You laughed along with Yukhei, forcing down the giddiness that spread through you at the sight of him. He shot you a big smile before trapping Kunhang in a playful headlock.

Before you knew it, the others arrived and as usual, dinner was a loud affair as everyone voiced their opinions on the topic of conversation which steadily continued to change. After dinner, everyone helped clean up excluding Yukhei’s parents because you all insisted that they relax. There was a couple of rounds of Uno at the dining table after everything was cleaned and put away and then the seven of you were on your way home. One by one, the number dwindled until it was just you and Yongqin.

“He was meant to ask to court me,” you told him just after Yangyang turned left onto his road. “Not marry me.”

“Let me guess,” Yongqin replied, amusement in his voice, “the three rascals helped him out without asking anyone.”

“Who else?” The two of you laughed, briefly recalling the mischief the four of them had gotten into whenever they did something without consulting their parents or anyone else in the pack.

“So what are you going to do?” Yongqin asked as the two of you approached your driveway. “If he was planning to court you then obviously marrying you is already on his mind.” You tried not to flush at the bluntness of his words because of course courting was only done when marriage fit into the equation.

Still, the corner of your mouth lifted. “I think you already know.”

Yongqin threw his head back to laugh and then beamed at you. “Yeah, I do.” He then ruffled your hair in that brotherly way of his and said, “remember, it’s the thought that counts.”

“You know, not enough people give you credit for being smart.” It was true. People thought Yongqin was nothing but an airhead who liked to dance and draw in his spare time because obviously you couldn’t possibly be intelligent when you enjoyed those things.

“I know,” he agreed while he jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “But it gives me an advantage, don’t you think? Now go on, I’m sure you have lots to think about.”

“G’night.” You said as he spun around and walked across the road to his own house. He just waved without looking back.

With the little time you had to think of a token to give Yukhei, you hardly slept for the past two days. There were so many options to choose from but ultimately, you chose a bracelet that had agate stones which matched the one that he gave you. It remained hidden in a box on your shelf and you thought about what Yukhei’s reaction would be while you sent him a short text.

to: xuxi

let’s talk after the run tomorrow

from: xuxi

okay

The full moon was big and bright as it always was. You and Yukhei stood underneath it, allowing yourselves to be soaked in its light, in the clearing between his house and the forest. Your rock was hidden in the saftey of your chest, just under your hoodie - you had asked your dad for help so that you could loop a necklace chain into it - while your token for Yukhei was inside of your loosely fisted hand.

“You asked me to marry you,” you said softly, peeking at him through your lashes. “You like me enough to marry me. You might even love me.” Although he was visibly shocked, he did nothing to assure you otherwise. His expression of shock melted into one of shyness, maybe even embarrassment, as he wrung his fingers together.

“Yeah, I did and,” his voice was low and gravelly, “I do love you.”

You didn’t even try to fight your smile as you stretched your hand out towards him and waited for him to place an open palm underneath it. When you released your token, you watched his expression turn into astonishment. He picked up the bracelet gently, examining it for a couple of minutes before slipping it past his hand and onto his wrist.

“You have one month to divorce me just in case you change your mind,” you tried to make it sound like a joke but it fell flat. “Just like I did with you.” At least according to Sicheng.

Yukhei strode towards you, his steps full of purpose until the two of you were practically chest to chest. “I don’t need it.”

Your heart soared as he leaned in closer and closer until your faces were a hair’s width away. “No?”

“Absolutely not.” And then he kissed you, a hand cupping the back of your head while you snaked your hands up to his shoulders.

“I love you, too.” You said breathlessly once the two of you pulled apart. “In case that wasn’t obvious.”

Yukhei’s laughter was as warm as sunlight. His hand moved from the back of your head to cup your cheek while he stared at you in complete adoration. With the press of his lips on yours, he removed it so that he could step back and hold your hands onto his.

“Mother Moon,” he began to say, his warm hands giving your cold ones a light squeeze, “may your light shine on our love through all of your phases for eternity.”

Yukhei’s eyes searched yours as if waiting for you to tell him that you were joking even after all that has happened. You just smiled at him, already knowing what to do next thanks to Yongqin.

“Mother Moon,” you repeated, taking pleasure in seeing Yukhei mirror your smile with awe in his eyes, “may your light shine on our love through all of your phases for eternity.”

58 notes · View notes

wonder-womans-ex · 3 years

Text

Curtain Call

Act One, Scene Eight

“I’m home!” Sirius calls, unlocking the door.

It takes a few seconds, but then, “In here!” comes James’s voice from the living room.

(‘Living room’ is probably a bit of a stretch, really, because ‘living room’ implies that there are also other rooms, and the fact of the matter is that they have two bedrooms and then a kitchen with a couch and a TV in one half and a table in the other.) (James is, evidently, in the designated couch half of the kitchen.) (Sirius had originally suggested calling it the ‘lounge,’ and it is a sad sign of how determined James is to grow up at least partially that this suggestion did not become a reality.)

Bending down to unlace his combat boots, he shrugs his backpack off and leaves it there on top of James’s checkered Vans and a pair of black sneakers he doesn’t recognize but probably belongs to him.

He walks past the fridge, glances at the schedule held up by the J and S magnets they got from Peter when they moved into the apartment, and makes a mental note that he has his first rehearsal for Oliver tonight.

“What’cha watching?” he begins, noticing the flicker of the TV screen, and then stops dead.

There are a few moments of silence before Sirius grabs one of Elvendork’s catnip mice off the floor and chucks it at his younger brother. “You fucker!”

Regulus sits up from where his head had previously been resting on James’s lap. “Hello to you, too, Sirius.”

“You came to visit! And you didn’t tell me!”

“In my defense, I didn’t even know I was coming until, like, ten this morning. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“Hey, they didn’t tell me, either. Just showed up at the door an hour or two ago, knocking like their life depended on it. I thought it was the police coming to tell me you’d been arrested. Or found dead in a ditch.”

“Shut up, James,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. “Of course they didn’t tell you—I’m his brother.”

“Well, I’m the love of his life.”

Regulus buries their face in James’s shoulder. “Why did I tell you that?” he groans, and Sirius glances between the two of them, blinking.

“Wait. Are you two—”

“No,” they say in unison, which clears up absolutely nothing.

“...I think I’m missing something.”

“You’re definitely missing something.”

(Yes, but what?)

He watches nervously as a significant look passes between them. It’s a conversation, really, but instead of words everything is communicated with eyebrow raises (mostly Regulus) and exaggerated winks (all James).

Finally, Regulus lets out a huff of breath. “All right,” they say. “Fine!”

James protests when Regulus climbs off the couch—not at the climbing off the couch part, but because he takes the blanket with him. The two stick their tongues out at each other, and Sirius feels his heart swell. He loves them both so fucking much, and he’s never been so glad that Reg managed to get out of that house, too. He’s not sure what he’d do without his little brother.

The walk in silence towards Sirius’s bedroom, and Regulus immediately jumps onto the bed once the door is opened. They bounce slightly when their body hits the springy mattress, and they flop over onto their back to stare at the ceiling.

“I came out to James,” he says, not bothering with pleasantries or preamble. Regulus never has been one for that—straight and to the point is the only way they really know how to do anything.

“You dated James.” Tact, Sirius, he reprimands himself immediately inside his head. Just because your brother is a conversation heathen you don’t necessarily have to stoop to their levels.

“Yes, I know I dated James. But… I’m not gay.”

“Okay.” Sirius pauses, waiting to see if Regulus is going to elaborate further. They don’t, so he prompts, “Do you know what you are?”

“Yeah.”

(So they’re doing this the hard way, are they? All right—Sirius can work with that.)

“I’m not gay,” Regulus says again. “I’m not pan or bi or any of those things. I’m… I’m asexual. And aromantic.”

Sirius blinks. He takes this in. He nods.

He says something that, in fifteen years, he will look back on and want to dunk his head in very cold water for. “But… James.”

“James.” Regulus nods, sighing heavily. “James is different. I don’t know how to explain it—I don’t love him anymore. But… I did. I used to. And I haven’t felt like that about anyone else, well, ever. Yeah.”

Before Sirius can say anything, Regulus starts talking again. “It’s like—what was it you used to say? In high school? ‘Having a crush on James Potter doesn’t make you gay. It makes you human.’ I loved James, but that doesn’t make me allo. Make sense?”

“Yeah. Wait, actually, one thing—so, James is the only person you’re ever loved? Romantically?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you told him this?”

Regulus brings his hands up, covering his face. “I know. It was a mistake, okay? I should have known it would only inflate his ego even more. I feel like an idiot.”

“Yeah, because you are an idiot.” Sirius reaches over, swatting them on the shoulder. “But at least you’re not as big of an idiot as the guy who knowingly and willingly flirted with his ex today.”

“What?!”

“Mm hmm. But that’s a story for another time.” Smirking, Sirius glances over his shoulder before beginning to walk backwards out of the room.

“You fucker!”

Reg chases him all the (admittedly very short) way back to where James is sprawled on the couch, clearly making good use of his friends’ absence. Finally, Sirius can see what’s playing on the TV—it’s Ocean’s Eleven, and it’s already at least a good half hour in. He and Regulus look at each other, identical smirks etched onto their faces. Together, they jump, and James yelps.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Regulus tells him jokingly, and there comes a muffled groan from where James’s face is smashed into the pillows.

Sirius makes sure that James can actually breathe before he starts to make himself comfortable. He’s perched on the small of James’s back; Regulus is settled in the gap between James’s feet.

“Is this really,” James laments, “how you want to treat your best friend?”

“Yes,” Sirius says, and smothers a laugh.

“And you, Reggie—have you no respect for the love of your life?”

Regulus pretends to think for a moment, then, “No,” they say.

The muscles in James’s back tense suddenly, but Sirius doesn’t think much of it. He should, really, because barely an instant later, James heaves himself over, tipping both Black brothers onto the floor.

“Ouch,” Sirius says, pouting. “My ass hurts.”

Regulus has an unbelievably shit-eating grin on their face. “Loser.”

“I thought you were on my side!”

“I’m on no one’s side but my own.”

This is a mistake, and Regulus knows it. His eyes widen when James and Sirius look at each other, nodding, and lunge forward. There is only one weakness to Regulus Arcturus Black, and the two of them know it better than anyone else in the world.

Because Regulus may be coolly confident with a sharp sense of humour, but they are also extremely ticklish. Their shrieks and laughs are interrupted by the occasional ‘No!’ or ‘Mercy!,’ but it does nothing to quench Sirius and James’s combined ruthlessness. They are unstoppable, and Regulus can do nothing to beat them.

George Clooney is shouting about something onscreen, but the three young men tussling pay him no mind. The movie plays on, forgotten, and Sirius lets himself forget—just for a moment—that Remus or heartbreak or that fucking writing class exist at all.

***

“So,” James says through a mouthful of chow mein, “How was the class?”

“It was good.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “‘Good?’ You sound like a kid coming home from school to overly inquisitive parents.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’d know all about that.”

“Fuck off, they didn’t talk to you, either.”’

“Touché.”

“Go on, Sirius,” James breaks in. “How was it?”

“It was better than last week, at least. Worse, too, I guess, but then it was better.”

“...Elaborate.”

He’s glad for the excuse to. He needs to talk to someone, and therapy’s an obvious no because he doesn’t have the money and also he has a bad track record of scaring therapists away on the first session, so James and Regulus are kind of the only options. (He’s not kidding anyone. He’s been dying to tell the two of them, specifically, for like forever, but Regulus hasn’t visited in ages.) “Well, I found out why Remus broke up with me. And then I met up with his friends at Frankie’s, and apparently they’re my friends now, too, which is cool, because at the moment my only friends are, well, you guys. Oh, and I helped set Marlene up with a girl.”

There is a pause as both Regulus and James look at him, taking in this information. “Okay,” James says. “Do I want you to tell me more?”

Sirius pokes at his rice with one chopstick. “I dunno.”

“I—um—you mentioned you made some new friends?” continues James. Regulus stifles a laugh, and Sirius has to admit that the phrase ‘make some new friends’ sounds more fitting for a conversation with a grade three than a university student. “What are they like?”

“Well, there’s Dorcas—the one who’s into Marlene—and she’s, like, the most extroverted extrovert to ever extrovert. Then there’s Frank, who doesn’t talk much, and Mary, who talks even less, but Mary’s got dyed hair so she’s all right, I guess. Alice is pretty cool, too, and then there’s Lily, who’s pretty but terrifying. Oh, and Fabian, who seems to be allergic to not being a nice person, and Caradoc, who I’m almost positive is related to Angelia Jolie because his cheekbones are just that sharp. And Remus, of course, but I’m sure I’ve told you guys enough about him to last a lifetime.”

When he’s met by only silence, he scrambles for something to say. “They all strike me as the kind of people who would wear ‘gay rights’ t-shirts unironically, which is sort of my only prerequisite when it comes to friendship. Our resident emo not included, of course, because I would never want to force them into anything that isn’t some sort of My Chemical Romance merchandise.”

Regulus looks down at the shirt he’s currently wearing—it’s got the American Beauty/American Psycho album cover on the front—and then back up at Sirius. “Actually, this is Fall Out Boy.”

“Same difference.”

“How dare you.”

Laughing, James spears another piece of broccoli and gestures with it between the two of them. “Reg, you can’t exactly blame him for his ignorance around your obsolete music tastes.”

“Says the guy who listens to the fucking Monkees—”

“Fuck off! The Monkees were an icon; a legend—”

“The Monkees are trash.”

“You’re trash!”

“Whoa, there,” Sirius breaks in. “I dodged a bullet when my only two friends in the world had a friendly breakup instead of an unfriendly one, and the last thing I want is to find out that that bullet is actually a boomerang.”

Regulus groans. “Okay, first of all, we’ve always spent like fifty percent of our time arguing about music, even while we were dating—which you’d know if you hadn’t started avoiding the two of us like the plague the instant we got together.”

“Shots fired,” James says under his breath, but he’s immediately silenced by a glare from Regulus.

“Secondly—and more importantly—if you ever make another analogy remotely like that one, I will hurt you. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Sirius assures them, but he’s struggling to hold back laughter.

There’s a pause, and then Regulus crosses his arms, pouting. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Because you’re funny.”

“I’m not funny!”

“You’re cute.”

“I am not cute!”

“Yes, you are!”

Regulus turns on James once more. “James, am I cute?” Clearly, they think better of this, because they quickly add, “Wait, no, don’t answer that.”

“See, you’re cute! And you know it!”

“I give up!”

Sirius sits back in his chair. “You’ve lost, Reg. Admit it. And then get me a fortune cookie.”

“All right. Fine. I’ve lost. But I hope your fortune cookie tells you you’re going to get struck by lightning tomorrow.”

“Sweet; maybe I’ll get cool powers.”

“It doesn’t work like that, moron.”

“Whatever you say.”

For a moment, he thinks he’ll have to get the fortune cookies himself, because Reg isn’t going to, but then his little brother stands up and reaches into the brown paper bag on the counter. “Here,” they say, tossing the cookie at Sirius’s head.

“Hey!”

James gets a cookie, too, but his is placed on the table in front of him, not at all a threat to his health, well-being, and quite possibly his life. Sirius points this out, labeling it ‘favouritism,’ but Regulus only takes a bite of his cookie and calls him dramatic.

“You first,” James says, nodding at Regulus, causing Sirius to gasp in betrayal. The other two pay him no mind, however, and Regulus clears his throat.

“You will,” they say, “come into fair fortune or good will in the near future.”

Almost immediately, James starts clapping. It’s tradition—after a fortune cookie reading comes the raucous applause. For them, it’s half the fun of ordering Chinese food.

“All right, my turn.” James squints at the slip of paper in his hands. He holds it up to the light, and then, “Something will happen soon that will change how you look at the world.”

This time, Sirius and Regulus know to wait before they applaud. James always adds something funny after his fortunes, and they’re curious to see what it is he’ll come up with this time.

“What,” he says, after a brief moment of thought, “will my glasses prescription change or something?”

Sirius looks at Regulus, and they both laugh as they clap. It’s cheesy, entirely too predictable, and basically the most James thing possible. Neither of them knows what really caused them to want to befriend James all those years ago in—oh fuck, it was grade four, wasn’t it?—but it sure as hell wasn’t his sense of humour.

“Sirius?” It’s said like a question, and Sirius is quick to answer. “On it, Reg,” he says, and breaks his cookie in half with both hands. (Well, he says ‘half;’ it’s really more like a quarter and then the other three.)

He reads out his lucky numbers first, without even looking at the fortune itself—that’s his tradition; he’s the only one of the three of them who does it. “Three, thirteen, seventeen, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, forty.”

“Isn’t that, like, the fifth time in a row you’ve gotten thirteen?” Regulus says. “That’s gotta mean something.”

“Shut up,” Sirius tells them, and finally he lets his eyes find the tiny lettering that is his fortune.

Without letting himself hear the words in his head first, he reads them out loud. “You have forgiven easily in the past; it is time to do so again.”

There’s a silence. What is this? It’s not a fortune; it’s a statement. Advice, maybe, but even that’s stretching it a little.

“Well.” James says, and claps, Regulus following quickly after, but Sirius can tell it’s strained. They’re all obviously thinking about the same thing—Remus.

Somewhere in his head, he knows that this doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s a fortune cookie, after all—what does it know? But… maybe it does mean something. He’s not sure which he’s hoping for.

Seemingly just for something to say, James asks, “Don’t you have rehearsal tonight?”

Sirius is, in a way, glad for the excuse to stand up. “Yeah,” he says, “at seven-thirty—which is twenty minutes from now—so I should probably get going.”

“Probably,” agrees Regulus, as they begin to clear the table. “Need a ride?”

“Nah, I can take the bus,” Sirius begins, and then stops. “Wait, why are you offering? You don’t have a car.”

“Um—”

“Reg, is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“...Maybe?”

“You have a car?”

“I mean, technically it’s a rental, so no, but—”

“Whatever.” Sirius doesn’t need to hear any more. “Yes, please, take me to rehearsal.”

James makes a noise of protest. “What, and leave me here alone?”

“Yes, James; you can survive on your own. You’re an adult.”

“I don’t feel like one.”

“Or act like one,” Sirius adds under his breath, which earns him a definitive not helping look from Regulus.

“You’ll be fine as long as you don’t burn the house down. Goodbye.”

Sirius grabs his script and his blue hoodie with the picture of a rubber duck on it from his bedroom, and when he walks back through the kitchen to the front door, Regulus looks him up and down once and hands him his backpack.

The only sound that accompanies their walk down the hall and subsequent elevator ride is the faint jingling of the key ring in Regulus’s hand. It’s not until they’re in the car and pulling out of the parking lot that Regulus says, “And you’re all right with this?”

“All right with what?”

“Me being… you know.”

“A total asshole? No. Aroace? Yeah, of course. I’m your brother. I’m here for you, Reg.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

(Sirius ignores the ‘I guess.’) “Is James cool about it? Because if he isn’t, I’ll kick his ass.”

“No, he’s fine. He’s great. He made a couple jokes about himself having raised my expectations so much I could never be with anyone else, but that’s just James.”

“That’s just James,” Sirius repeats. “And you know that you can always talk to me, right? If anyone tries to mess with your head?”

“Yeah. Now, enough about me. Let’s talk about the guy who ‘knowingly and willingly flirted with his ex’ earlier.”

Damn. He’s hoped Regulus had forgotten about that.

For a moment, Sirius is trapped between the want to stubbornly refuse and the need to actually talk about his feelings. He settles on the latter, but not until they’re close enough to the rec centre where rehearsals are held that he knows he can hop out of the car and walk the rest of the way if need be. “He’s just… he’s everything, you know?

“And I know that he doesn’t want to get back together, and I know that we really shouldn’t even if he did. But he’s Remus. And I’m constantly flip-flopping back and forth between wanting to be his friend because we’ll never be anything more than that, and…”

“And what?”

“Being so in love with him it hurts.”

Regulus glances away from the road ahead for a split second, eyes flickering over Sirius's face, their expression unreadable. “Sounds like a you problem,” they say finally.

“Reg?”

“Yeah?”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

“I just—my eyes basically turn to hearts whenever I look at him, but it also hurts, you know? Because he broke up with me, obviously, but also because today I found out that the reason he broke up with me was that he kissed someone else, so obviously that’s kind of shitty, and I don’t know how to feel about any of this because he’s basically the nicest person in the world, and can one mistake really change who a person is? But he also hasn’t tried to make up or anything, and we’re apparently pretending we’ve never met, and did I mention he’s got a fucking tattoo of the Sirius constellation that he never told me about, and… this is my stop.”

Regulus pulls over, wincing a little as the tire grates against the curb, and then turns to meet Sirius’s gaze. “So, it sounds like you’re not in a great place right now,” he says. “And I get that. You know this goes both ways, right? You can always talk to me, too.”

“I know. Love you.” He grabs his backpack, making sure it’s got everything he needs in it—phone, script, highlighter and pencil for notes and directions, bottle of red Gatorade—and closes the door.

The window rolls down slightly, and Sirius watches his own reflection disappear with it and be replaced by his brother’s faint smile. “Love you, too,” Regulus says, and then he is gone.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #james potter #regulus black #cw food #james and sirius are bros #he/they regulus black #regulus black is an emo I don't make the rules #university au #muggle au #post-breakup #actor!sirius #I don't know how I feel about this chapter

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 10 ✘JJ Maybank✘

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five! part six! part seven! part eight! part nine!

I feel like I should make a masterlist or something. This is getting kinda crazy.

(gif not mine! all credit to toesure! thank you for this beautiful gift. I love it)

Word Count - 6014 Warnings - Fighting, swearing, depictions of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, Synopsis - Kie convinces your dad to let you come with her to the annual summer movie series, where tensions between the Pogues and Kooks finally comes full circle. Your dad finds out a secret which means there’s hell to pay for you. Taglist - @bitterbethany @lovelymaybankk @ilymarkchan @downbytheouterbanks @clearcolourlessglass @obxwriterfan @tangledinsparkles @chill-sushi A/N - Hey, so this chapter is pretty heavy! There’s some pogue on kook fighting, but also the reader goes through hell with Gerald. I don’t think the depictions are too graphic, but still, if it bothers you, please be cautious. Your safety is my priority! Also, I’ve been feeling rather irritated by my own writing. Every time I reread my work, it just sounds so apathetic and unfeeling, but I didn’t want that to interrupt this series because I know there are those of you out there who still read it! Thank you to those of you who have been interacting with my work in all forms, it is really encouraging. Anyway, here’s part ten! Stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy, my friends!

When your dad opened the door and you saw Kie standing there on your front porch, your heart seized for a moment. You thought maybe something had happened to one of the boys, but from the small smile on her face, you could tell that wasn’t the case.

“What can I do for you, miss?” Your dad asked, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. You neared, meeting her eyes and giving a small wave. She didn’t wave back, but her smile grew wider.

“My name is Kiara Carrera. My mom and dad own the Wreck? I live not too far away from here,” she said, which was her way of saying that she was a Kook and lived on Figure 8. “I was wondering if your daughter wanted to come with me to the summer movie series today.”

Your heart soared as you turned to look at your dad quickly. Being able to spend the day with Kie without fearing any retribution from your dad was high on your list of things that would make you very happy. You stepped toward your dad, pleading with your eyes even if he couldn’t see you.

“Well, Kiara, that offer is mighty nice of you, but-”

“Daddy, can I please go?” You asked with another step, twisting your hands. He turned to look at you, jaw tight. You pinched your eyebrows together as you knit your eyebrows together. He watched you carefully before finally sighing and hanging his head.

“You’ve been good this summer,” he said. “You can go.”

A smile broke across your face as you glanced over at Kie. She grinned almost as widely. You ran toward your dad, throwing your arms around his neck. For a moment, he hugged you kindly, until he grabbed your arm with an iron grip. You glanced over at Kie and her smile faltered.

“Anything happens today,” he hissed in your ear, sending a ripple of tremors down your spine. “And you’re dead.”

You nodded against his shoulder and as you slowly let him go, you tried to fix a smile back onto your lips. He dropped his hand from your arm and smiled again, but you could see the venom behind his teeth.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered, not confident in the sound of your own voice.

“Go change,” he told you. “I don’t want my daughter out looking like a whore.”

With that, he turned and walked, throwing the dirty towel onto the floor at your feet. He flinched as he slammed the backdoor shut, closing your eyes and breathing slowly.

“Hey,” Kie said as she took a few steps into your house. You opened your eyes and smiled at her. “Let’s get you changed.”

***

You were in the passenger seat of Kie’s car when you pulled up to Pope’s house.

“They’re gonna resist coming,” Kie said as she parked her car.

“What, resist spending all day with us out in the sun watching movies?” You scoffed, opening your side door. “No way.”

Kie laughed and the two of you walked up to Pope’s front door. Kie lifted her hand to knock, but you stopped her with a sly smile on your face. She pinched her eyebrows together.

You pounded on the door with your fist and deepening your voice, you called out.

“Kildare PD, open up!”

Kie shook her head and pressed her palm to her face. You laughed quietly to yourself as you heard a few swear words and bodies shuffling around. Pope finally flung the door open with a forced smile. When he saw the two of you laughing on his doorstep, his smile fell and he glared.

“That wasn’t funny, Elm,” Pope said with a sigh.

“I thought it was pretty funny,” you said, glancing behind him to where JJ stood. He hung his head, hiding a small bout of laughter from Pope.

“What’s up?” Pope asked.

“Summer movies,” Kie said. “We want you to come.”

The two boys glanced at each other, sharing something between them that made both you and Kie nervous.

“I think we should stay inside,” JJ said, walking up to the door to stand beside Pope. You scowled, but quickly tried to shake it off.

“On a day like today?” Kie scoffed. “No way, couch potatoes. Not on my watch.”

Pope shifted uncomfortably. There was something going on. You weren’t entirely sure what it was, but you didn’t like it. And you were going to find out what it was.

“Yeah, no, you’re coming with us,” you added, crossing your arms. Whatever it was they were up to, there was no way you were going to let them scheme it out on their own at home. It took a few more minutes of convincing, but you and Kie eventually got both of them in the car.

“What movie are they playing?” You asked, trying to break the silence in Kie’s car.

“You’ve really never been to one of these?” Kie turned to look at you as you shrugged. “Even JJ and Pope have been before.”

“Yeah, like twice,” JJ said, fiddling with his lighter. He was fidgeting more than normal. Something was definitely off with him.

When you arrived, the grass was already packed. You carried a few blankets in your hands as Kie led you to a clear spot in the grass.

“I’m glad they’re still doing this,” Kie said with a smile, nearly skipping. “Keep calm and carry on. Back to the OBX life. Aren’t you guys glad we made you come?”

“Ecstatic,” Pope said without so much of a twinge of emotion as he set a chair down onto the grass. You spread out a blanket and flopped to the ground with a happy sigh.

“Pope’s couch was pretty comfy, I’ll be honest,” JJ mumbled.

You glanced up at Kie as Pope and JJ whispered back and forth to each other. She nodded her head toward the concessions stand.

“Sure,” you said, pushing yourself upward and following after her. There was a smile on your face as you walked beside her, but it fell when you saw who else was over there. A growl came from your throat before you could stop yourself.

“Down, doggie,” Kie laughed, following your line of sight. “He won’t make a scene here, don’t worry.”

You scoffed and tore your glare away from Rafe just before he glanced over at you.

“Two Pepsi’s please,” Kie said to the guy at the concessions, pulling her wallet out of her back pocket. “You want anything, Elm?”

“I got it, Kie.”

“No, it’s my treat.”

You raised your eyebrows at her and she narrowed her eyes. Finally, you turned back to the guy standing there waiting for your decision.

“Just a bag of popcorn please,” you said to him. He nodded his head. “Thank you, Kie, you didn’t have to-”

Kie held up her hand.

“You’re my friend, Elm. Not gonna let you starve over a few bucks,” Kie told you with a smile.

“Hey, Kie, Elma.” At the sound of Rafe’s voice, you felt your entire body seize up. You shut your eyes, hoping that maybe it was a hallucination, that if you willed him to go away, he would. “How are you?”

Kie turned to look at him while you opened your eyes and took the popcorn and drinks from the stand.

“I’m fine,” Kie said with the most uncomfortable smile you had ever seen. It almost made you laugh. You looked anywhere but at Rafe, remembering your last conversation with him. He had threatened you, you had threatened him right back, and then he had almost tried to protect you when JJ started shooting. It was confusing and you hadn’t thought of it much, but now that he was in your line of sights, you started wondering about it again.

“And you, Elma, how are you?” He asked. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a glare.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” You ground out through your teeth.

“Just once more, sweetheart.” You lunged forward at the nickname as it sent ice through your bones. Kie stepped in front of you, keeping her perfectly placed smile on her face. You fumed from behind her, glaring daggers into Rafe’s skull. There was a wicked grin on his face as he looked past Kie and straight through you.

“Tell your boy we know what he did,” Rafe said once he finally looked back at Kie, inching closer. You had half a mind to shove him backward.

“What boy are you talking about?” Kie asked. You had no idea how she kept her cool so well. If she hadn’t been there, you would have already knocked him back on his ass and given him a few new bruises on his pretty face.

“He’ll know.”

That was definitely a threat. And it was a threat to one of your friends, maybe even JJ. Your eyes narrowed even further. If it weren’t for the Pepsi and popcorn in your hands, you might have strangled him. Kie turned away from Rafe, hooking her arm through yours. She pulled you away, but you didn’t take your eyes away from Rafe. He had to know that if he came after any of your friends, you would be there and he would get his ass beat.

“Watch your dog, Kie,” Rafe called after you, causing a few heads to turn. You made to attack, but Kie wouldn’t let you go.

“Elm, c’mon. Remember what your dad said,” Kie whispered, tugging you along. You finally whipped your head around, breathing ragged.

“I really hate him,” you sighed as you sat back down on your blanket.

“Who?” JJ asked, tensing almost instantly.

“Rafe.” You popped a piece of popcorn in your mouth. JJ stood, but you put your hand on his knee, pushing him gently back into the chair. You settled between his legs, still glowering as you chewed on your popcorn.

“He said,” Kie added, handing a Pepsi to Pope. “and I quote ‘You tell your boy that we know what he did’.”

“What is that?” Pope’s voice raised an octave as he looked over at JJ, who shrugged.

“Um…” JJ cleared his throat. “Where is he?”

You pointed your finger behind you, staring forward. Pope and JJ spun around to look in that direction. You could feel JJ’s legs bouncing up and down, another sign that he was nervous. Something had happened to him and Pope and it had something to do with Rafe. It was official, you were definitely going to kill him.

“Great, the whole death squad,” Pope breathed. You scowled up at him for a moment before looking back at the screen.

“Don’t stare,” JJ said, pushing Pope’s head back to the front. “If they corner me, I’m coming out swinging, okay?”

You sat up, turning back to look at JJ.

“If that doesn’t work,” JJ continued, plucking his backpack off the ground. You wondered why he had brought it with him. “I got this right here.”

Your stomach dropped and you looked over at Kie, who had a worried mother look on her face. It wasn’t until her eyes met yours that you realized what exactly JJ meant by it. Pope and JJ muttered back and forth together for a few moments as you and Kie tried to internalize what you had both just realized.

You pressed your palms against your forehead, sighing heavily.

“Hey, JJ?” Kie said, her voice tight. “Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here.”

At the word, you lifted your head, shifting your jaw. Both you and Kie were staring JJ down, which made him visibly uncomfortable. He glanced between the two of you before responding.

“Kie, I didn’t bring the gun.” JJ twisted one of the rings on his fingers. He was lying. “Everything’s fine, okay?”

Another twist. Another lie.

Your eyes fell to the bag on the ground as Kie drilled into him about the rules of the Pogues and what not. You barely heard Pope say something about ‘it going down tonight’, but all you could think about was the gun in that backpack. All you had to do was ask JJ for it. He would give it to you. He wouldn’t ask questions. Even if your dad turned up the next day with a bullet in his head, JJ would never question you.

You forced yourself to look away and engage back into the world of reality. By that time, the first movie had started and your friends had fallen silent. You leaned back against the front of JJ’s chair, resting your head against his knee, trying to get your mind off of the gun. He dropped his hand down to your shoulder, giving a short squeeze.

Focusing on the movie was a thousand times harder with JJ’s thumb brushing your neck. The actors on the screen were talking to each other, but you had no idea what they were saying. If there was a mind reader in the crowd, they would be scarred after reading what was going on in your head. You clenched your jaw so tightly that it began to ache. The sun started to drop, darkness falling over you and JJ got a little bolder.

When you couldn’t take it any longer, you put your hand over his and pulled on his arm until he leaned forward. You could see the smile on his face as you turned to whisper to him.

“I might cut your hand off if you don’t stop, Maybank.”

JJ laughed and turned to say something, but before he could, Pope patted his arm. JJ sat up and turned toward Pope with a rather irritated “what?”

“I gotta take a piss,” Pope whispered. You laughed to yourself, turning back to the movie that you could now actually focus on. Still, you had no idea what was happening.

“Hold it,” JJ hissed.

“I can’t hold it, I drank too much soda.”

“It’s too exposed, they’ll totally see us.” You raised your eyebrows up at them, but the boys were both too engaged in conversation to notice.

“I gotta go.” They both looked back. “They’re blocking the bathrooms.”

“I could distract them so you sissies could go pee,” you said, keeping your eyes on the screen. JJ flicked your neck gently, making you pout.

“Come on,” JJ said. “I know where.”

As he shifted in the chair, you took the note and moved away so he could stand up. You huffed, lifting yourself into Pope’s chair beside Kie as the boys scampered off behind a tree.

“This isn’t good, is it?” You whispered to Kie. She shook her head, a reflection of the screen in her eyes.

“No, it’s not.”

You watched Rafe, Topper, and Kelce walk across the lawn behind the same tree.

“Kie,” you said, tapping her arm and nodding over toward the boys.

“That is definitely not good,” she said.

“Should we-”

“No. It’s a boy thing. We shouldn’t get involved.”

A few more moments went by and none of the boys came back. Your heart started to pound in your chest. You were worried for JJ and Pope, sure, but you were also itching to get Rafe a little bloodied. And when you couldn’t handle it any longer, you pushed yourself out of the chair and hurried over, ignoring the disgruntled protests from the people you walked in front of.

You weren’t surprised to find that a fight had broken out. You remembered that first fight you jumped into, saving John B and JJ all those weeks ago. This one was eerily similar.

Kelce held onto JJ, Rafe pounding into his stomach. Topper had Pope by the throat.

You didn’t take the time to really assess the scene much farther before jumping in. Grabbing Rafe by his shoulder, you spun him around and landed a punch across his face. Pain splintered throughout your hand, but you didn’t care. A startled yell came from him, but it didn’t take him long to compose himself and fight back.

Kie came running around from the other side of the screen, swinging the backpack with all of her strength. You watched with a smile as she smashed it against Topper’s back. The moment of distraction was enough for Rafe to land a solid punch against your jaw.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” JJ yelled, struggling against Kelce’s grip. You spat blood at Rafe’s feet.

“That the best you can do?” You asked. He swung again and you ducked, jabbing him in the stomach with your fist.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Rafe said, wiping blood from his lips.

“That makes one of us.”

The scuffle carried on. You and Rafe moved around each other expertly, almost like a partner dance the two of you had been playing for years. The fight wasn’t stopped until Kie used the only brain cells that any of you had and set fire to the screen. Topper let got of Pope, Kelce releasing JJ.

As soon as JJ was free, he tackled Rafe to the ground.

“We gotta go,” Kie said, helping Pope to his feet as the screen burned. “JJ, Elm, we gotta go!”

You pushed yourself onto your feet, cringing against the pain in your ribs. You grabbed JJ’s wrist before he could pound Rafe’s face into the dirt.

“C’mon, bucko,” you said, pulling him backward. “We need to get outta here.”

JJ stood slowly, stumbled off of Rafe. You wrapped your other arm around JJ’s waist, pulling him back as the movie watchers started to scramble away from the burning screen. Lacing your fingers through JJ’s, you ran after Pope and Kie as they made a break for her car.

“Anyone want to fill us in on what exactly happened?” You asked, jumping into the backseat. JJ didn’t even get the door closed before Kie stepped on the gas.

“I may or may not have totaled Topper’s boat,” Pope said, breathless, as Kie tore out of the parking lot. He started to cough, rubbing a hand against his neck.

“Here,” you said, passing him a bottle of water before Kie started yelling.

“What the hell, Pope?” she shrieked.

“They started it!” JJ protested, half standing. You pushed him back against the seat. “Rafe and Topper jumped Pope while we were on delivery.”

“They didn’t,” you said.

“Yeah, they did.” JJ crossed his arms. “So I told Pope to sink Topper’s boat. They deserved it.”

“Whether they deserved it or not, there’s going to be absolute hell to pay for this,” Kie said. “But first, we gotta get Elm home so her dad doesn’t kill her.”

You let out a heavy sigh, looking down at your knuckles. The skin had broken from your first punch, blood dribbling down your hand.

“Let me see your face,” JJ said, putting his hand under your chin and moving your face toward him.

“I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “Kelce was beating you pretty bad though.”

You tried to pull up his shirt to see what kind of damage Kelce had done to his ribs, but he waved you off in the same way.

“Kie,” Pope said in an airy voice, mocking you. “Let me see you. Are you okay? Is everything alright? Are you dying? You were hurt pretty bad….”

You rolled your eyes as JJ kicked the back of Pope’s seat. Kie was still fuming, unamused by Pope, her knuckles tightening over the wheel.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have a girl to fawn over you, Pope,” you cooed, giving a fake pout. “See, JJ here gets beat up and it’s hot as hell and I just can’t keep my hands off of him.”

Pope gagged, rolling down his window to fake vomit. JJ turned to look at you as you grinned at Pope’s reaction.

“Do you really think it’s hot when I get beat up?”

You shook your head.

“No. It makes me want to set Kelce’s house on fire,” you told him, tapping your finger against his shoulder. “But seeing you beat Rafe up…”

“Seriously, guys, I’m going to jump out of this car if you don’t stop,” Pope said. You finally scooted away from JJ, still laughing. You had been joking to make Pope uncomfortable, of course, but you weren’t lying. Watching JJ beat the shit out of Rafe was incredibly sexy and the next time you got him alone….

But you knew that probably wouldn’t be any time soon.

A few miles before pulling up to your driveway, Kie stopped the car.

“Pope, get in the back,” she said.

“Are you really that mad?”

“Pissed as hell? Yes. But Elm’s dad can’t see either of you. So, switch places with her. Now.”

Pope popped the door open and switched places with you. Kie drove the last few miles in silence.

Seeing your house as you pulled up made you sigh. Even if there was a big fight and you get pushed around a bit, the freedom you had felt being out with your friends with no fear as nothing like you ever felt.

“What are you going to tell him about your bruise?” Pope asked, both him and JJ laying flat against the backseat.

“I’ll make something up,” you told him with a smile, not looking back. You could see your dad at the front window, waiting. You waved up at him. “See you guys later.”

You didn’t wait for either JJ or Pope to say anything else before hopping out of the car. Kie followed you to your front door. The door was opened before you even made it to the top steps, your dad standing right inside.

“What happened to your face?” He asked. You smiled at him, rolling onto the balls of your feet.

“Oh, the bruise?” You asked, pointing at your jaw. “I got excited when we got to the movies, tripped over a curb. I tried to catch myself on a tree, but….”

You lifted your hand to show the cut on your knuckle. Your dad shifted his gaze over to Kie. You could feel her tense under his cold gaze.

“It’s true, Mr. Gerald,” she said, arms wrapped around her stomach. “It was actually pretty funny.”

You turned back to your dad with a smile. He glanced between the two of you for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Did you have fun?”

“Oh, yeah.” You remembered the feeling of JJ’s hand against your skin, the feeling of spending time freely with your friends, the feeling of your fist against Rafe’s face. “I had a blast.”

“Good, I’m glad,” your dad said. “Thank you, Kiara, for getting her home safely.”

“Of course, sir,” she said, but you could hear the strain in her voice. “I hope we can do it again someday...soon.”

That was a risky thing for Kie to say. One day out with no apparent issues wasn’t about to convince your dad that you could go out more. Still, you appreciated Kie’s attempt. She knew the prison that you lived in, how much worry was on your shoulders whenever you snuck out. Your dad sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“I’ll talk about it with my daughter,” your dad said. He opened his hand out to you and you took that to mean that you were no longer permitted to be outside. “Thank you again, Kiara.”

You stepped inside and turned back to look at your friends.

“I had a good time today,” you said to her and she smiled. “I’ll see you around?”

Kie nodded, biting her lower lip.

“Yeah, see you around, Elm.”

You cringed as she turned to walk away. Your dad slammed the door shut behind her, but this time, you didn’t flinch.

“Elm?” he asked, turning to you slowly. “What, the name I gave you not good enough?”

“It’s not like that, Dad,” you said, backing away slowly. “We...we’re friends. We give each other nicknames. That’s the one she picked for me.”

Your dad narrowed his eyes at you.

“Go to your room, Elma,” your dad said. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

You hurried upstairs before your dad could say anything else. Kid popped his head out of his bedroom with a smile.

“Hi,” you said, voice quiet.

“Hey,” he replied. “How was your day?”

You lowered yourself to the floor, crossing your legs. Kid stepped out of his room completely and copied your position.

“My day was good,” you told him with a smile. “How was yours?”

“Good.”

Even though neither of you could really talk about what really happened with your dad standing just underneath you, undoubtedly listening in, it was enough to just sit there and see the smiles on each other’s faces. Knowing that Kid had a great day, whether he was at Dex’s house or playing with his other friends at the arcade or browsing the comic book store, was all that it took to make your heart burn with happiness and pride. It didn’t matter how deep your father’s actions cut into him, your brother never let it ruin his morale.

“Sleep tight, Kid,” you told him, ruffling his hair. He tried to dodge your hand, laughing as he shoved your arm away.

“You too.”

You stood and helped him up. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you steered him back to his room. Once he was back inside, you leaned up against the wall.

“I love you, Kid,” you said, looking at the floor. “I don’t say it enough.”

Kid turned back to look at you, the smile gone and a serious look on his face.

“I know,” he said. “You don’t have to say it. I always know.”

You smiled, feeling tears prick into your eyes.

“That’s good to hear.”

“And, El?” You looked up at him. “I love you too.”

***

You were rudely awoken by the front door slamming shut. You sat up, gasping for breath, whatever dream you had fading instantly. The sound of your father storming back and forth across the lower level of the house, pounding and slamming almost everything he came in contact with, made your bones rattle. Chills ran up your spine as you closed your eyes, trying to build up the courage to go downstairs and confront him about it. The sooner you went, the better things would go.

Flinging your blankets off, you shuffled out of your room. As you passed Kid’s room, you saw him peak out, just the barest of his eyes visible. You waved him back inside. He opened his mouth to protest, but you shut his door without waiting to hear it.

You swallowed a lump in your throat before making the long trek down the stairs. Heart pounding, you neared the dining room where your dad was shoving chairs back and forth to make more noise.

“What...what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice cracking. He froze where he was. Your ears burned with anticipation. Your dad turned to you, his eyes burning with fury. You took a step back, hands dropping to your sides, ready for whatever was to come.

“What’s wrong?” His voice shook. “What’s wrong is that I was just told that my daughter has been sneaking out and around behind my back, lying to my face, hanging out with the scum of the earth. What’s wrong is that I’ve just learned that you’ve been fooling around with some boy from the cut. That’s what’s wrong!”

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. After slowly taking in what he said, you tried to control your breathing.

“Daddy, please, I-”

“Don’t lie to me!” His booming voice echoed through your house. “You can’t lie your way out of this one, you sly bitch. No, I’ve got proof.”

Eyes wide, you watched in horror as your dad pulled a stack of photos of his pocket.

“Explain this one to me. It’s from last night, isn’t it?” He threw the photo at your feet. You covered your mouth with a trembling hand as you stared at it. There you were, sitting between JJ’s legs, his hand resting against your neck. The familiar sting of tears pained your eyes as you looked back at your dad. “What about this one? Can you lie your way out of this?”

He threw another picture at you. It was you and the Pogues on the HMS, dancing. There was a wide smile on your face as Kie guided your movements with her hands. JJ sat beneath you, his eyes glued to your back.

“Dad-”

“Oh, this one’s my favorite,” he said with a cruel laugh, looking at the picture in his hands. “When was this? That night you asked to go over to Sarah Cameron’s?”

It was from that night. You were wearing JJ’s sweater, the sweater that you had hidden in your room. His hands were on the side of your face, his lips against yours. You were smiling. The picture took you back to that day. You remembered the flash of lightning as the storm came rolling in.

As if a ton of bricks had been dropped on you, a realization dawned on you. The flash you had seen wasn’t lightning. It was the flash from someone’s camera.

Somebody had been taking pictures of you then, and they had been ever since.

You looked up at your dad again, a large tear dropping from your eye. Your dad tossed the entire pile at your feet, the photos scattering around you. You and the Pogues at the Wreck, you and Kie at the ice cream shop, JJ teaching you how to surf, John B cheering you on as you shotgunned a beer, you and Pope dancing at a kegger.

Mind racing, you closed your eyes to try and shut it out, but all you saw were the pictures. You thought you had been safe, you thought you had been clever, you thought he would never find out.

It goeth before the fall, they say.

“Did Bradford know about this?”

You snapped your eyes open, a new breed of fear starting to pump through your blood. You hadn’t protected yourself well enough, but you could still keep Kid out of it. You stepped forward, nearly slipping on the pile of pictures.

“Kid didn’t know anything,” you said, your voice shaking. Your dad sneered at you, staring down at you and your tears.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Daddy, I swear, Kid didn’t-” Your dad’s hand shot through the air, hitting your nose and breaking it almost instantly. You gasped, falling back as you felt the blood start to drip down your face. “I swear, I swear. Kid didn’t know. He didn’t know.”

“So you admit to it?” Your dad shouted, looming over you as you tried to crawl away. “You admit to it!”

You nodded quickly, your hand slipping on a photo as you tried to crawl away.

“Yes,” you said as you stared up at him. “Yes. I’ve been out with them. I’ve been sneaking out to see them. To see him. But Kid didn’t know.”

Your dad lifted his foot and brought it down hard against your hand, the same hand you had dug your teeth into a few nights before. You cried out against the pain, feeling iron tasting blood drip into your mouth. You pulled your hand to your chest in an attempt to stop the throbbing.

“What’s his name, Elma?” Your dad asked. You started crawling backward again, using your one good hand. “Your little boyfriend, what’s his name?”

You clamped your mouth shut, lips trembling as you stared up at him. There was no way you were going to tell him. JJ didn’t deserve to suffer for your mistakes.

“What’s his name!”

You shook your head furiously.

Leaning down, your dad grabbed you by your hair and lifted you off the ground. He slammed you against the wall, your back hitting the corner. A whimper came from your mouth before you could stop it.

“You think you’re so tough?” Your dad seethed, winding up his fist for a punch. You braced yourself for it. Still, your head whipped around when it hit. “You think you’re so clever?”

Another punch and you felt the skin on your face break, blood spewing from your mouth.

“Daddy, please-”

“I never wanted you!” He screamed, hitting you in the stomach. “But I try to protect you. I still try to protect you!”

He pulled you away from the wall, only to slam you back against it again. Hitting the corner for a second time tore the breath from your lungs. You gasped, pain riddling your every movement. You lifted your hands to your head to prevent another punch, but he no longer went for your face. His hands were big and he only needed one to wrap around your throat.

It already felt like you couldn’t breathe, but now with his hand squeezing, you knew you couldn’t. You tried to pry his hands from around your throat, but your strength was fading fast. You saw Kid standing in his doorway, mouth hung open and tears falling from his eyes. If you didn’t put an end to this soon, Kid would get brave and step in. You weren’t sure you would be able to save him from that.

“Dad,” you managed to squeeze out. He didn’t loosen his grip. “Midsummers.”

He looked away from your throat, glancing up at you.

“What did you say?”

You pulled at his fingers, straining as you felt your cheeks begin to tingle from lack of oxygen. He released the tiniest bit of pressure from your neck, enough for you to squeak in a small breath.

“Midsummers,” you said again, your voice a little less weak than before. “I can’t...Midsummers...like this.”

He seemed to get the picture you were painting. Concealer could only go so far and there was no way you could pull up to Midsummers looking like you were hit by a truck. You had never missed a Midsummers before and there would definitely be questions if you didn’t go. All you needed to do was get your dad’s hand off of your neck, all you needed to do was breathe. You just had to convince him that his reputation was worth more than killing you.

Apparently, it was. He let your neck go, still holding your hair and pressing you up against the wall.

“You ever lie to me again and I’ll kill you,” he seethed in your ear. You nodded your head slowly, trying to hold off how badly you wanted to cough. He finally let you go, stepping away as you fell flat against the floor. You coughed, trying desperately to suck in any form of air as you curled your legs up to your chest. You lay amongst the pictures someone had taken, the pictures that had damned you.

The front door opened and then slammed shut again.

“El!” Kid raced down the stairs. When he reached you, he dropped to his knees and scattered the pictures even farther. He didn’t even seem to see them as he stared down at you.

“I’m okay,” you said, tears and blood running down your face. Your voice was harsh like gravel. Speaking just made another wave of coughs shake through your body. Kid put his hands on your back, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Shh,” he cooed, laying down in the pictures beside you as you coughed through sobs. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Who in the hell had taken these pictures? Who could hate you enough to take all these pictures, go through the effort of printing them out, all to show your dad?

Only one person you knew hated you that much, only person who knew enough about you and the Pogues to have this much evidence against you. There was only one person in the Outer Banks who would want you to hurt so badly.

Rafe Cameron.

191 notes · View notes

youralternantpersonality · 4 years

Text

Except For You

Embry x reader: Except for You

Warning: Death, Emotional support and control, CPS/fostering/adoption/homes.

***

Y/n was an easy-going kid growing up, full of life, happiness, and all things of that. It wasn’t until the tragic accident happened that landed you in foster care. CPS searched high and low for a family member to take you in. But to no avail, you were still in the system from the soft ages of five to 15.5 years (to be exact). It wasn’t the easiest, nicest, and not the most pleasant, but you survived and that’s all that mattered. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

You were taken in by your great aunt when you were eight, but by then, the damages had been done. You were distant, hesitant, and deemed as an “aggressive” child. The only life form you ever let get close to you was the dog of the house, Manny. As soon as you entered the household, Manny was your comforter, protector, and your emotional and mental support. Your great aunt and uncle realized this and let it be. It wasn’t until another accident occurred that resulted in Manny’s death did you end up in a group home. The pain was too much, and because you weren’t properly taught how to express your emotions healthily, it resulted in a few tossed dishes, runaways, holes in the wall, and nights of screams and cries that could be heard for miles. Ever since, at the tender age of nine (at this point), you wouldn’t allow any form of being near you. The thought of going through that pain again only would hurt 20x more than the time you lost your family and Manny. And that wasn’t worth it.

That is until you were fostered by a couple who wanted to adopt you in the small town of La Push. You had met your foster mom, Emily, at the group home she volunteered at and for once grew attached to someone. It took a while, but something about Emily gave you a sense of home. She reminded you of your mother. Or what little you had of her. All you had of your family was pictures and trinkets you hid from the other kids, so they don’t mess with it.

You and Emily grew close. So close that Emily had to stop volunteering at the group home. Regret consumed you until you had a potential parental meeting to be adopted. When you walked into the room, the first person you saw was your caseworker, Lilly (the bitch), and then you saw her…Emily. You ran to her as fast as you could, hugged her with all your strength, and cried.

“What are you doing here?” You cried into her shoulder.

“I’m here to take you home Y/n/n.” you looked at her confused. She smiled and continued,

“That’s why I stopped volunteering. It would have been a conflict of interest and unethical to continue to work here and then adopt you, sweetie. So, I talked to Jessica and Leo,” the group homeowners, “and they said I would have to stop for a given month, place in an application, allow CPS to check if we’re acceptable to be able to be a contender. But Jess and Leo somehow convinced them to speed up the year process to five months. I’m so sorry Hun, I didn’t mean to be away for this long.” She said with tears forming in her eyes.

“You want me?” I said in disbelief. She smiled and looked up at a man I didn’t realize who was there. Big ass dude who looked to be “6’4”, broad shoulders, buff, and looks like he could intimidate and scare off anyone in his path. He grinned down at Emily and looked towards me. He held out his hand and introduced himself.

“I’m Sam, Emily’s husband. She has told me nothing but great things about you Y/n.” I hesitantly but confidently shook his hand and from then forward, I was accepted into their close little family. And to be honest, I wasn’t that was surprised at how easily I had grown attached to the two.

Six months later

I was in the garden with Emily fixing the flower beds when I heard the guys come from the forest. Emily and I looked at each other and went inside to clean up real fast and prepare for their ultimate feast. The guys had been training for some vampiric war due to this incompetent girl who can’t get herself out of trouble.

It was on accident really, how I found out what Sam and the guys are. Two things happened, one, Embry imprinted on me, and two, I was there that uneventful day, the first day I met Bella, where her dumbass punched Paul. Not only did I see Paul, but I also saw Jake transform.

Living with Sam and Emily for a month and a half

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” I yell at a distance, Embry, my imprint before I knew what it was, Quil, and Jered all turned to look at me.

“Fuck.” Sam said, he turned to look at me, but I took off. I didn’t know where I was running, but I ran. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know if Emily or Leah did the same thing. So, I just ran, ran until I got to First beach. I fell to the sand to catch my breath and just looked out into the ocean. I felt someone sit next to me, without even looking, I knew who it was. The second and last person I’ll let come as close as they were to me; the only other male to be within proximity of me. Enough to where our shoulders touched.

Embry. The cute and idiotic boy I took to instantly the second we met. I never understood or knew what it was about him, but whatever it was, I tried to fight it at first, but it hurt more than I thought it would. Emily said to just let it happen, let yourself feel, and not resist. It was hard, but after some time, he somehow looked like it affected him more than me, which worried and hurt me. Without a second thought, I accepted and allow myself to the possibility of gaining a closer friend. And since, he has been one of the closest people I have ever taken to. More so than Emily, and that says a lot. I broke the silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” I said without looking at him.

“I figured you’d want to get adapted to living here before you found out that our legends are true Olives.” I roll my eyes at the nickname he gave me as soon as he found out that I despise Olives. I looked at him and looked down as our knees were leaning on one another.

“You still could have said something…I don’t know. Anything. You know I hate secrets, especially coming from you Cilantro.” He wrapped his arm around me, and I easily gave into him. It used to bother me how easily I took to him being close to me, but now, I don’t fight it.

“I know, and I’m sorry. No more secrets, I promise. Unless I have to protect you, but I promise, I will try to keep you out of that situation Olives.” I looked up at him, I couldn’t look away even if I tried. His big soft brown eyes carried the light from the sun as if it was a sea with quiet waves. A whirlpool of honey mixed with chocolate. The boy had a grasp on me, but I wouldn’t break what we have for some weird crush. But apparently, he would because without a second thought, he leaned in and I felt two warm lips against mine. I did nothing at first, but when he pulled away, I leaned in and caught his lips to mine again to show him how I felt back. After that, we leaned our foreheads against each other and smiled. Thus, resulting in him to tell me about imprinting. Now, that, I understood why he held back from telling me. Thinking back on it, the ways the pack responded to us, it made sense.

“Awe, look at the married couple.” -Jared, when we were eating.

“You guys want us to leave while you have your privacy, or are we welcomed into the conversation?” -Brady, when we were hanging out at the beach.

“Get a room!”- Paul, when we were doing nothing but making stupid faces at each other.

Everyone knew I hated being touched or having someone too close to me, except for Emily. So, when I allowed Embry to do so, that brought on more teasing. And it wasn’t big stuff like wrapping an arm around me. It was small things.

When he’d sit next to me at the table, he would be close enough for me to cross my legs and rest my foot behind his calf, yet far enough so no one would be able to notice.

Sometimes Emily and I would be sitting at the table when the guys come in. He would purposefully be last so that when he came behind me, he would glide his finger softly at my exposed skin. At one point, he didn’t care, and Emily saw him do it then saw my reaction. She was happy to see my reaction but said nothing to me.

When Emily and I are cleaning the kitchen from cooking and the guys come in to eat, he’d get the silverware and slightly brush his shoulder to mine. Then bump me with it and head back to the table. I would do nothing but smile, which caught Paul’s attention, who then pointed it out. Asshole.

After that, Embry said, “fuck it!” and just found a way to get close to me. I didn’t mind. But it was moments like these, on the sand, with his arm wrapped around me that no one saw. It was something that wasn’t worth showing. Something that I was not comfortable showing. The slight touches, I’m ok. But PDA, I can’t do. Thankfully he understands this.

Present Day

Just as the boys were entering, Emily and I just took the food out. Like normal, the boys set the table and for some reason, Embry came up to me first, kissed my cheek, grabbed the plates, and went to the table. I was shocked, but I wasn’t mad. No one saw it, so that put me at ease.

After eating and relaxing, Embry and I went to his place to just watch a movie. It was times like these did he love the most. Why? Because I was always attached to him. With Embry, I can get lost in time and can easily feel physically deprived from. So, when we are behind closed doors, I basically turn into a big baby. Another thing that has scared me. But I am learning.

With Embry, I am learning a lot about myself. My boundaries, comfort zones, and what I want. With Emily and Sam alone, I learned what I want, Manny proved that to me too. With my great aunt and uncle, I learned what I didn’t want. At the group home, I was taught how to survive. With all these lessons, I learned a great deal about myself. And all of it came into play meeting up to the love of my life. And every day, I am grateful.

Masterlist

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storysofmyown · 4 years

Text

Obey me! A devilish trip

Plot: The brothers decide to take a trip to the beach. It’s all fun and games until a demon decides to ruin it.

Trigger Warning: Foul language, rape attempt, mild violence, mentions of catcalling, stalking.

Word count: 4,254

“Do you think the pastel pink might be a better choice to wear to the beach than the dark pink? I get that both will look good on me because I’m wearing them, but one can only hope to look their best!”

“They look exactly the same!”

“You are not even looking! The pastel one is shorter and makes it look like it has a cute lace while the darker one is tighter and makes my butt look better.” Asmo fell onto the bed besides Mc with both bathing suits still in hand.

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

“Yeah you are right…the laced one makes the sexiest look”, Asmo packed the bathing suit on one of his several suitcases before looking at Mc.

“Do you really need five suitcases for a 3-day trip to the beach?”, Mc’s eyes fell on the suitcases before getting their view blocked by Asmodeous.

“Of course, dear! One of them has exclusively clothes for when we are at the hotel, another has my bathing suits, this one has my creams and face mask for my night-time routine, that one has some special gears in case something spicy might occur, and the last one has some extra clothing just in case.” Mc rolled their eyes at him before leaving the room and Asmo with a mountain to take care of.

After a while of accommodating stuff in the suitcases Asmodeous piled them up on the side of his bed just in time for Lucifer’s check-ins.

“No.”

“EH?! C’mon Lucifer! I need the five of them. Do you have any idea what will happen if I leave any of those here?”, Asmo hugged protectively one of the suitcases before Lucifer took one from the pile and placed it on the bed.

“It’s only a 3-day long trip. Knowing you, half of the stuff in here you don’t need.” Lucifer started to open the suitcases and take out things from it. “You really have an entire suitcase for creams?”

“How else would I sustain this flawless skin?”

“You can take with you five items from this suitcase.” After a fit from Asmodeous and an agreement on settling for 7 items while ruling out the entire suitcase of special items it was time to argue about the clothes Lucifer did not approve.

“This shirt is too short, this one is almost see trough, this bathing suit looks like lingerie and those pants are way too short.” Lucifer said as he threw the clothing in the floor. Making Asmo have a heart attack.

“Lucifer! You always do this! What am I supposed to wear to the beach tomorrow if you take out all my cute clothes?” Asmo tried to put the bathing suit on the suitcase again but Lucifer was having none of it.

“You call them cute? Those I would hardly call clothes. Even if it’s the beach where we are going that doesn’t mean you have to go walking around almost naked. The clothes that I left inside are appropriate. Don’t worry I still made sure you it fits your style. Now, make sure they are all organized in one suitcase for tomorrow.” Lucifer walked up to the door leaving a pouty Asmodeous mad at his cruel fate.

While organizing everything in it, Asmodeous may or may not have sneaked in some of the inappropriate clothing Lucifer took out, but that was for him to know...and for Lucifer to get mad at later.

The next day

“Oi! Beel, stop trying to eat the seat belt. And Belphie, rest your head on the door instead of me, yeah?” Mammon yelled at his brothers while Mc, Satan, and Levi sat in the last row of seats talking about last night’s episode of a detective show Satan had recommended them.

“This is so boriing”, Asmo protested while yawning, Lucifer side eyed them in the mirror before locking his eyes back in the road. “How long till we arrive?”

“We are close. Maybe another 20 minutes. Meanwhile, I can let one of you choose a song.”

“Not fair! They are going to play some normie stuff and not what I want to listen to.”

“You literally wear headphones almost 24/7, just put them on.”

“Oi! So, you were not actually sleeping and just decided to use me as a pillow?”

“I am surprised Lucifer is letting us change the song he has played since we got on the car.” Satan smirked a little.

“You just lost radio privileges, anyone else?” Lucifer changed the station before Asmo plugged in his phone and chose a song at random.

“Hey! Why do you get to choose the music?” Mc yelled from the last seat.

“Shot gun has DJ rights.” Asmo stuck his tongue out at Mc only for them to return the action.

“Lucifer…”

“Mhm?”

“…I’m hungry.”

***

“Okay the lady rang us in already, we are on the sixth floor. Let’s go, I’ll give you the keys to the rooms when we get there.” After a very cramped elevator ride, they all arrived at the floor. “Okay, Asmo, Satan and I will be staying in room in 624, Mammon and Levi on room 625, and Beel, Belphie, and Mc on room 626. Here are the keys. In an hour we will meet on the lobby to talk about our schedule. Be on Time.”

“Hey! Why do they get to share a room with Mc while I’m stuck with Levi?”

“You think being stuck with me is bad? Imagine being stuck with an annoying lowlife like you.” Levi grumbled while opening the door to their room.

“OI! I am your older brother, show me some respect.” The arguing faded once the door was closed.

“All right! Who’s on for a movie marathon tonight?” Mc asked excitedly facing both Beel and Belphie.

“If there will be popcorn I’m in.”

“Only if we watch some horror movies.”

“Pst, Satan.” Asmo whispered.

“What is it?” Satan looked annoyed.

“Why are we stuck with Lucifer? He ain’t fun at all. He is going to ruin all my plans.” Asmo complained while holding his suitcase.

“He probably wants to keep an eye on us.” Satan closed the door behind them and claimed the middle bed while Asmo took the bed closest to the bathroom.

After setting everything up, and Asmo taking almost half an hour in the bathroom to refresh himself, the three of them made their way to the lobby where Levi was complaining about something while Mammon decided what would be worth stealing to profit off. After a few minutes of waiting, finally, Beel, Belphie, and Mc showed. Lucifer gave some rules which none of them listened to and after a warning about ‘not wondering off to get in trouble, you all need to maintain an appearance even if we are not at school or on a meeting, we need to maintain Diavolo’s pristine image and yadda, yadda, yadda.’ The eight of them made their way to the beach.

Beel, upon arriving, made a v-line directly to an ice cream stand that was there. Belphie put an umbrella and lied in the sand to take a nap, Levi started to play in his phone, Satan took a book out of God knows where and started to read. Mammon, like an idiot, rented some diving gear claiming that the ocean had all kind of treasures and he was going to find them while Mc laughed at him. Lucifer and Asmo both were at the bar that was in the middle of the beach.

“My, my, Lucifer I didn’t know you were planning to actually have fun during this vacation.” Asmo teased his older brother while Lucifer scanned the beach making sure no one was dead yet.

“This is the only thing that will keep me sane trough out the day.” Lucifer flashed a smile for half a millisecond before downing his three vodka shots that already had been served. Asmo chuckled before flashing a wink to the cute bartender who immediately was taking his order.

“I would like a Devils Seacrest Blue.” After getting his drink and sipping on it for a while Satan decided to join them.

“Aren’t you having fun.”

“I’ll have more fun once Mammon decides to accept that there is no treasure under water. The idiot is going to drown.”

“Look at the positive side, Levi actually stopped playing in his phone for a minute.”

“…I have to see that for myself, be right back.” Lucifer drank his last shoot before checking that Levi was not suffering from a heat stroke.

Satan ordered a drink as well and started to make small talk with the bartender. While that was going on, Asmo found some demon staring at him, to whom he flashed one of his signature’s smiles. The demon smiled at him as well before Asmo averted his eyes back to Beel, who had eaten at least 5,000 grim’s worth of ice cream.

“I am surprised you are not flirting with that demon already.” Satan commented sipping from his Margarita.

“Not my type.” Asmo commented casually.

“That has not stopped you before.”

“I have standard you know, just because a demon looks very ‘masculine’, doesn’t mean I’m going to flirt with them.

“My mistake, I’ve only known you for like, I don’t know, a couple of millennia; my bad for making assumptions.” They both laughed for a bit before carrying on with another subject for a while. That was, until Satan noticed the demon still starring at Asmodeous. “You said he may not be your type, but I think you might be his.”

Asmodeous looked briefly at the demon before turning to Satan again and rolling his eyes. He was glad Lucifer had left for the moment or else he would have caused a scene because of the demon. Asmodeous finished his third drink before getting up from his chair and announcing he was going to bother Mc and Mammon for a while. On his way to the water he could feel someone staring at him intensely, for some reason, that bothered him. He always loved attention…when he wanted it, he just ignored it and got into the water to find Beel, who had left clean the ice cream stand and Belphie had joined them. Levi had taken Mc on a trip to the deeps while Mammon was pouty about it.

After a few hours of messing around and Mammon almost drowning Mc, a burned Belphie, Satan destroying a couple of chairs because water got on his book, Lucifer whooping some asses, and Levi almost adopting a sea monster whom he named Henry 3.0, they got back into the hotel. Lucifer had arranged a for them to eat at the hotel’s restaurant, so they needed to get there before 9, the reason why Asmo was frantically searching for what to wear.

“Why does this matter so much? We are going to be there for only two hours. No one is going to notice that you are not wearing clothes that literally scream ‘I need people to notice me’.” Asmo glared at Satan before nodding.

“You are right. What I wear isn’t what screams for attention is just generally me.” Satan groaned as Lucifer came out of the shower.

“You have until 8:30 to finish, go in now.” Lucifer set up an alarm while Asmo sprinted to the bathroom.

After bathing and doing hair and makeup, Asmo got out fully covered in a towel still wondering what to wear. Before he could even think about it, Lucifer threw at him some clothes and left the room. Asmo raised an eyebrow at Satan who shrugged.

“Just get dressed.”

Asmo was the last one to get ready, of course he was, once he got out of the room, he noticed that only Beel was outside. He explained that Lucifer and the other went ahead to apart the table and ordered him that if Asmo was not ready by 8:50, to drag him out. Without stalling too much, they hoped in the elevator. Beel was vibrating of excitement thinking of all the food he could eat.

“Do you think they will have human world burgers? I have been dying to eat one since we arrived.”

While Beel rambled about food the elevator stopped and a demon hooped in, at first Asmo didn’t pay much attention, but when he felt someone creeping in closer to him, he decided to look. Turned out to be the demon that had watched him earlier and was not trying to hide it this time. The demon had this look on his face that made Asmo feel uncomfortable. Coming from the Avatar of Lust it may sound weird, but the way this demon looked at him was as if he was undressing him right there.

Asmo had been with a lot of people in his life, but he had made sure 100% of the time that his partner felt comfortable. But that demon did not seem to care about that, with every second the demon was inching closer and Asmo felt his blood run cold. Luckily, Beel seemed to have noticed this because the moment the elevator reached the lobby, he took Asmo hand and basically ran from there. Before Asmo could even process what was happening, they were already making their way into the restaurant.

“Who was that?” Beel asked, and while Asmo was grateful that he didn’t ask with Lucifer on earshot, he did not know how to answer...so he opted to joke about it.

“Probably some fan of yours truly. You should know that by being as desired as I am people will be leaping at the opportunity to get close to me.” Asmo chuckled, but there was an edge to his voice that Beel noticed.

“Your fans don’t just stare at you; they try to talk and even get your number or something like that. That demon was doing none of those things.” Asmo appreciated Beels concern, but it also made him feel more vulnerable.

Once thy arrived at the table, Beel did not mention the demon again. Asmo was immensely grateful for it. But he still felt…odd. Throughout the dinner he barely spoke, his mind was in other places. Like, what would have happened if Beel had not been with him? If that demon found himself completely alone with Asmo?

It made him feel completely insecure and unsafe, during dinner Asmo could not shake this feeling that the demon was lurking around, watching him. None of the brothers or Mc mentioned, even if they noticed, the state he was in. After dinner they all made their way to their respective rooms. Asmo was the first to enter the room and immediately took a bath. He wanted to wash off the feeling of the demons stare off himself. Once he got out, neither Satan nor Lucifer had entered the room. He decided to start with his night routine and after finishing he would pop into Mc, Beel and Belphie room and join the movie marathon. But Lucifer had other plans.

“Asmodeous, you know that tomorrow we had schedule, at night, to go down the bar of the hotel and check it out.” Asmodeous nodded not looking up from the magazine he was reading. “Well, you, Satan, and I will not be attending.”

Lucifer spoke as if Asmodeous had no say in the matter, like he had all the authority to just state what Asmodeous could and could not do and he would obey just because his older brother wanted him to. Asmodeous wanted to protest but he knew better than that. If he put up a fight Lucifer would only put more restrictions on him, and he was not going to end up like Mammon. No, he was smarter than that.

The next day proceeded as planned during the daytime, all of them followed Lucifer’s damned schedule to do all the activities the hotel offered. The incidents had been an all-time low with Mammon only attempting to steal the silverware during breakfast once, Beel only eat part of a table, and Levi almost losing it when he saw that Mc bought a limited edition Ruri-chan key chain for him. Now, Satan, Lucifer, and him were trapped in the room with Lucifer in the shower and Satan submerged in one of his books.

The moment Lucifer got out, Asmo went in with the clothes he was going to wear to the bar, and a loose pajama to disguise them. He took a long while in the bathroom, assuring that when he got out Lucifer would be already asleep, and he would only need to get past Satan. And so he did, after leaving the shower he used a little of his personal charm on Satan, which gave him enough time to put a tv show of detectives Satan would like for when the charm wore off. Once that was taken care off, he took off the “disguise”. Finished his makeup, put on some shoes and off he went.

The ride to the elevator was uneventful, once he arrived at the bar, well that was another story. Demons have always been known to party, and there was a reason for that, and Asmo planned on joining them. He was on vacation and he refused stupid details ruin this, he was not going to pay any attention to what had happened the other day and he was going to live a little. Drink after drink, song after song, Asmo was having the time of his life, maybe the drinks were started to get to him a little, because he got on top of a table and started dancing. He didn’t care who saw or who cheered, he just danced because he wanted to and it made him feel happy.

After the wildness wore off, he got down from the table and asked the bartender for a water. He was certain he saw the face of Mammon somewhere in the crowd but even if Lucifer appeared now, he was content with himself.

“You put quite the show huh?” A voice came from behind him. Asmo laughed before facing who spoke and feeling himself froze. It was the demon that had stared at him. He put those thoughts behind and just tried to be polite. A few minutes of small talk with the stranger turned into him cat calling and making suggestive comments at him while being a little too touchy. Asmo tried to get away from the demon a few times but he felt trapped in the space.

Before he could protest the demon put an arm on Asmo waist and whispered something in his ear, making sure to kiss his neck before smirking. Asmo pushed the demon away and tried to walk through the crowd but the demon was having none of that. Once he was a bit away from the crowd, he felt a hand grab him and pull him back in. The hands of the demon hold him against a wall as the demon tried to convince Asmo to go with him into his room. Asmo was able to get away from their grip and made a run to the elevators.

He pressed the buttons, but the elevators were not coming down and as he turned around to make sure he wasn’t being followed his eyes fell on the demon who was walking fast towards him. Without a second thought he started to climb up the stairs with rapid footsteps behind him. Halfway up the stairs the demon got close enough to grab Asmo by the leg making him fall. The demon immediately pinned both of Asmos hands to the ground while staring at him with such a lust that it made Asmo want to scream. He tried to kick the demon, but he evaded them.

How could he escape from this one? Even if he was one of the most powerful demons in hell he was not physically strong, his powers in this case would not help because even if he got the demon to look him directly in the eyes and charmed him the demon would not stop because, to put it this way, he was already “charmed”. The demon tried to take off Asmos shirt, but he resisted, the demon slammed his wrist against the stairs and got close to his face.

“The more you fight, the worst this is going to be for you, I recommend you stay still and don’t scream.” Asmo was horrified as the demon started to kiss him and bite him hard. He felt disgusted, scared, dirty, he was petrified with terror and he only wanted to scream, which he tried but the demon put a piece of cloth in his mouth. He felt the wet trial of kissed leading from his neck to his stomach, the demon was sucking on Asmo skin like it was some type candy, Asmo felt the demons hand unbutton his pants.

Asmo tried to get away from the demon once again, resisting to him, moving, fight, trying to scream, the demon only pulled him from the hair and slapped him. “What did I just tell you? I was considering going easy on you, but it seems like that’s not an option. You brought this on yourself.” Asmo felt the demon´s nails dig in his skin to the point that he bleeds and as tears ran down his cheek, he felt a weight lift off him unexpectedly.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Lucifer having tackled the demon off him and Satan was holding him down. Asmo felt someone touch him and while his first instinct was to pull away once he saw that it was Beel helping him to his feet he let him. The next few instances flew by in a blur. One moment he was being pulled up by Beel the next Mammon, Levi, Belphie, and Mc around him trying to make sure he was okay. Everyone talked but he could barely even focus on what any of them were saying.

Asmo decided to take a bath, and while bathing he started crying while looking at his red wrists. How could he be so stupid as to go down at the bar knowing that demon could be lurking around. For the first time in millennia Asmodeous felt disgusted in his own skin. He rubbed a sponge in every spot that the demon had touched so hard that once he looked, they were red. After getting out of the bath and standing in the mirror he noticed the trial of red and purple hickeys the demon had left on his skin. Asmo wanted to scream and to punch himself for being such an idiot.

If he had listened to Lucifer and stayed with him and Satan in the room, then none of this would have happened. But he had to go and put on a show while calling attention upon himself, right? After getting dressed Asmo left the bathroom and Mc sat him down on the couch beside them. He was feeling exhausted and just wanted to get back to the House of lamentation. He just wanted to feel safe.

He cannot tell how, but before Lucifer entered the room he felt this impending sense of dread shake him to his core. Lucifer stood in front of him while Asmo looked nowhere. He was expecting Lucifer to yell, scream, lecture or even hit him because he had disobeyed him, but he certainly was not expecting Lucifer to hug him.

“I shouldn’t have restricted you. After Beel told me what happened in the elevator I thought it be safer for you to stay in instead of going with you and making sure you were safe…I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Lucifer sounded broken and at the verge of tears. Asmo tried to brush off the feelings and smiled weakly at his older brother, before breaking down in his embrace and crying.

“No, I’m not okay I’m sorry, I should have listened to you.” Asmo gripped on Lucifer’s coat was the only thing keeping him from shaking.

“Asmo, listen to me”, Satan sat by his side, “you did nothing wrong, so don’t you dare think this is your fault at all, okay? The only one who’s at fault here is that…that demon.” Everyone could feel the fire in Satan’s word’s, but they also noticed that glimpse of tenderness and care for his brother.

“Do you want to go home?” Lucifer asked with a softness in his voice Asmo could swear he had never heard before.

“We could leave now if that’s what you want.” Beel spoke softly. Asmo smiled at them shook his head.

“Thank you, but I just want to sleep. Can we leave tomorrow, during the morning?” They all nodded and Asmo smiled at them still feeling a bit scared.

“Do you want to stay with us?” Mc spoke, Asmo shoot Lucifer a look who only smiled.

“I think it might be better if all of us stay together tonight.” They agreed and after pushing the 3 beds together and lying down in them, the darkness of the night made Asmo think. None of this had been his fault, for some reason he had thought it was but no. The only one to blame was that demon who tried to hurt him. Asmo finally was able to breathe, feeling all that weight that was crushing him lift momentarily. The darkness of the night made Asmo feel the warm, he knew his family had his back. That made him feel happy, and most importantly it made him feel safe.

**************************************************************

Hello once again people! Fun fact; this started as something entirely different but halfway trough i was like “But what if Asmo was aware of the concept of consent?”, and this was born. Hope y’all enjoyed it, and remember to stay safe bye! :3

#obey me!#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me! lucifer #obey me! satan #obey me! mammon #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #obey me! leviathan #obey me! mc

157 notes · View notes

enigma-im · 4 years

Text

Mr. Sandman

Rating: General Relationship: Dream Deity X Female!Human Warning: Relationship Confrontation, one-sided relationships, Dream symbolism, non-subtle symbolism

Word count: 2789

A dream deity is having doubts in his relationship and confronts his girlfriend in her sleep to get some honest answers

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I lay in bed with my arm curled around my girl, stroking her shoulder as she sleeps. She is spooned to my side, facing towards the bathroom. She never rests her head on chest, something I hardly noticed when we first started dating. I stare up at the ceiling in thought, something I've found myself doing a lot lately. Always after spending the night with her, I manage to wake before she does and just gets lost.

Lately, or perhaps since the beginning, she hasn't been all there with me. We rarely go out for dates that aren't typical of newly dating couples. Every date feels like a first date more than anything. Always movies or cheap dinner, nothing special. In the beginning, I cast it off with my own insecurities of being a deity. Perhaps she didn't want to draw attention to me which is hard to do with my looks. I tend to stand out in a crowd and my career as a dream therapist makes me a sought out man. Still, even months later she feels like she is at a distance. Does she actually want to be here? Even now looking at her back, seeing her refusing to cuddle makes my doubts arise.

I talk myself in circles for another hour till she rouses from sleep. I watch her in silence knowing she doesn't care for conversation after freshly waking. Though my mind raced with thought it's when I look at her naked legs and ass that I will admit I lose my train of thought for a little. Once she is in the bathroom I get out of bed and head to the kitchen with a pair of pants I wore last night. I start a pot of coffee for her as I fish out some breakfast. I make her favorite microwave breakfast biscuit then finish getting dressed.

The morning is routine, I make breakfast and wait on her before I leave for work. I sit at the dining room table on my phone, listening for her quiet footsteps.

"Morning," I call as she sits across the table. Even when we share a meal she sits as far away as she can.

"Morning," she grumbles over her coffee. I listen for her content sigh and smile to myself when she does.

"I need to head out early, Mrs. Peterson is coming in before eight," I say as I shoulder on my jacket," Love you, have a good day. I'll text you during lunch." as I walk by I kiss her head.

"You too," she answers back. I try to pay it no mind as I head to the door. I reach for my keys on the side table, stopping when I see my things. Stacked neatly on the table is my toothbrush I forgot sometime this week and folded pajamas. The sight grates on me more than it uses to. My line of thinking lately is seemingly fueled by her normal actions. I grit my teeth as I decide to leave them and head out.

The whole day is spent in spiteful thinking. I begin to notice every little thing she does or doesn't do. Now that I think of it I can't remember the last time she even said that she loved me. Of course, it's not a problem, if she doesn't want to say it then she doesn't have to but… she has never been affectionate, which is fine, I guess. She hasn't been the one to plan dates or initiate anything besides sex. Damn, that line of thought is alarming. Is she just using me?

I torture myself for the rest of the week, feeling more and more distant from her now more than ever. I try to bring it up but she shuts it down immediately or spinning the conversation to something else. Its classic reflection tactic, if this was anyone else I would use some dream dissection to find the root of the problem. Yet doing this with her seems wrong, like a breaking of trust to enter her head like that. Still, that might be the only way to get some answers. I can't live like this, not knowing if she really cares or just stringing me about.

With the decision made I hold her close that night, preparing to dig up some problems.

Entering dreams is easy and the participant is always open to the experience, another talent of mine I fear. The scene plays before me, an empty beach on a sunny day. I find myself playing along, standing beside her.

I walk with her on a beach, noting the happy place she has created. The golden sand warm from the sun above. The white noise from waves crashing on the shore. I watch her from the corner of my eye, almost feeling bad about what I'm about to do. It needs to be done, for both of us.

"So what do you think about our relationship," I tilt my head towards her. Within an instant the beautiful blue sky changes to a light red. The sun setting over the ocean. I take note. Looking her over I see her posture is stiff, rigid.

"good," she answers simply. She won't look at me, which solidifies my thoughts of her being scared. I have to keep reminding myself this has to be done. Tough love is needed

"Just good? I thought its been going fairly well, but I am curious about something," I lay the bait. The sky gets a little darker, becoming a mix of purples and reds. Her gaze hasn’t left her own feet and the waves are becoming louder.

"What are you curious about," she chews on her cheek. It pulls at my heart but it hurts more to know she is nervous because of what I'm asking.

I look her over, preparing for the worst," why don’t you ever leave anything at my place? Also, why do you pack my things by the door?" she stops walking. The air feels tense, clouds forming off the horizon. The waves are white-capped and angry. She takes a moment to think.

"Why do I not leave things at your place?" I nod," I just haven't brought anything that I would forget." such a cop-out answer. I sigh before turning towards her. I hear the thunderclap from behind me, her eyes refusing to meet mine.

"What's stopping you," I finally ask. I'm not here to play games. She snaps her head to me, open and worried.

"What stopping me?"

"Yes, you aren't fully here with me and I want to know what's keeping you," I explain. She looks away again, the air is electric as the storm approaches.

"Nothing, this is just how I am," she tries to lie. I can practically taste it in the air. The bitter feeling in my mouth from her attempts to dissipating the conversation.

"What's stopping you," I ask firmer. I'm done being subtle and nice. This is my life too, my time she is wasting. If she doesn’t want me then she has to decide that now.

She looks up at me, meeting my eyes. I can see her determination, the attempt of looking strong. It hurts that she feels she needs to do that. I can hear the thunder, see the flashes of lighting. Her breathing is getting harder, the sound mixing with the crashing waves.

She drops her shoulders, sighing as she looks away. The sky turns dark as the night sky. The clouds cover the full moon above. The waves relax but I smell the rain.

She takes another breath," I'm scared." something wet splashes on my cheek. Then another on my head. Soon it's pouring. I don’t let it deter me, taking a step closer to her. As I do a soft sound of thunder plays above us.

"scared of what," I ask softly. I know this has to be a challenge for her. I never wanted to be the reason she was sad, or scared. I just want her happy. In some twisted way, I know this confrontation will.

"scared of being lied to and left behind," she answers. The waves lap at my ankles, shocking me with it's cold.

"Why would I do that," I reach out and tilt her chin up. I want her to look at me when she accuses me of other's past transgression against her. She looks between my eyes, trying to map out my feelings. I can feel hers, the biting rain flattening my hair and clothes. The ocean lapping at my ankles. The bright flashes of light streaking across the sky.

"Why wouldn’t you? I don’t want to commit when there is a chance that you don’t actually care. That you will use me," she shivers. The wind picks up as she spoke, turning the rain sideways. I couldn’t pay it any mind, her words hurt. To think that she even partially believes that I couldn’t care about her. I would traverse the tallest mountains and deepest oceans just to see her smile. It's like someone is clenching my heart in a death grip when she says that I would use her. If she truly believes that then why be with me?

"Then why are you here," I drop my hand. I do what she does, folding into myself. If she really thinks that I would use her then why even bother?

She wipes the rain from her eyes, or maybe they were tears. She glances behind me to the rocky sea. I give her a moment to think of an answer, praying that its an honest one.

She sighs, "Because I can't let go, I want you and it scares me to want you." my heart gets squeezed again. I want to crumble at her feet and confess my devotion to her. I wish to shower her in praises and gifts until she understands how much I cherish her. I know it will do no good, it would just make her feel worse. This is her problem, her decision.

I take a step back, a bolt of lightning hits the sea behind me," make a choice." with that I leave. I sit on the sidelines and watch her happy place become a battlefield. I look over the dark storm clouds that pelt her with heavy rain. Looking over the angry sea, waves pushing higher and higher on the shoreline. Stopping just before it touches her feet. I have to clench my eyes when I see her fall to her knees. Her hands run through her hair as she weeps. I feel awful but this had to be done. I have to have my answer even if it means this. I cant be strung along just because she can't make up her mind.

She sits in the sand, the waves rising higher and higher till she is engulfed. Drowning herself in her own feelings. She sits there, allowing herself to wallow in her own fears. I feel a warm tear trail over my cheek. I don’t care, I just sit on the precipice of fear and emptiness. I love her, and it's killing me.

I watch her for what felt like hours. Hating every second because I know she is deciding if she could trust me. Fighting with herself over and over. It hurts to think someone you love might not love you. It's an impossible ache, a terrible pain. I'd rather be drowned over and over than deal with this. Be stabbed repeatedly than watch my love debate if I'm worth it.

A while later the waves recede and the clouds part. The moon illuminates the beach in a beautiful glow. The waves slowing to a crawl and reflecting the light. It’s a serene sight, very different than a moment ago. I watch as she sits up from the sand, flipping her wet hair back out of her face. My stomach flutters at the sight never used to how beautiful she is. She stands, dusting the sand from her body. Once she runs out of things to do she just looks over the ocean. The moon moving to sit on the horizon just for her.

"Teo," she calls out. I startle, my heart racing as I show up. I stand before her, finally seeing her puffy face. I try not to react, my eye twitching for a second. I don’t want to persuade her either way, this is all on her. I can't even bring myself to speak as I look at her. Keeping neutral, my hands behind my back.

She studies my face, almost suspicious like. She timidly takes a step forward, the wet sand around her feet sinking. Raising her hand she takes a deep breath. I don’t even breathe. She touches my face, confident as she takes another step forward. Everything is still. The waves have frozen behind me as well as the ocean breeze.

"I'm sorry," she starts. A chill runs down my spine and my throat clogs. I cant hear this, I thought I was ready but I'm not. I cant hear her reject me over something as petty as fear. I won't lie and say I could give her everything but I can say I would damn well try. I try to fight through the icy grip over my heart, closing my eyes as I take in the warmth of her hand.

I startle when I feel something touch my lips. I suck in my first breath in minutes as I realize she is kissing me. I don’t push my luck, I can't, and let her take the lead. She is confident in her movements, grabbing my hand as she presses her lips firmly to mine. Her fingers intertwine with mine, taking another step forward. I can't help but squeeze her hand, grabbing her and pulling her closer.

Noticing my greed I lean back, needing more than anything for her to speak. I could stand here and kiss her all day. Yet, I have to know what she chose.

I meet her eyes and look through them. Taking in my surroundings to get any clue. The waves have resumed their movement, barely lapping at my heels. I watch her, she looks determined like before. This time it isn't trailed with fear but with comfort. She even tilts her head and smiles a small smile. She looks over my face, her eyes twinkling in the moonlight. The determination is still there but now she is giving affection.

She pets her thumb over my cheek," Teo."

"Yes," I answer. She bites her cheek as she thinks on her words.

"I'm sorry," she repeats. My heart clenches again, this time I don’t hide the fear. Her eyes open wide before she wraps her arms around me," I'm sorry I've been stringing you on. I'm sorry I haven't been all there for you. I'm sorry I ever made you doubt your feelings for me. I promise to be better this time." she clenches me a bit tighter. The wind picks up as does her panic. I hardly notice from the heavyweight being lifted off me. She promises to be better this time. This time.

"A-are you-," I can't finish the sentence.

"I'm going all the way, I trust you to catch me unlike everyone else, I love you," she sniffles near my ear. I rub my hands up her back, snuggling my face into her neck. I don’t say anything, I cant. She is actually choosing me, I hardly believe it. I barely hear the waves crash as her anxiety rises. "Please say something," she whimpers.

I don’t answer. I pull her back, looking into her worried eyes. I give a toothy grin before crushing my lips to hers. Taking all my own fears and worry and casting it aside. I press my love and devotion to our kiss. Answering her with actions pushing the elation I feel into her. She returns in full, molding her mouth to mine.

I startle when I hear a loud bang overhead. I pull back and stare at the sky just in time to see an explosion of colors. I watch confused as a skinny trail of light shoots into the sky before bursting in a scattered circle of color. They are fireworks.

"What," I start before I look at her face. Her smile is wide and her eyes filled with love. I grin just as wide, chuckling as another firework shoots into the sky. "I think the fireworks are a good touch," I kiss her again.

"I thought so too," she rests her head against my shoulder. We both watch the fireworks go off, holding each other close.

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This is based on a dream i had that touched way too hard on my inabilities to commit in relationships. only difference was he was a demon and i was in a dream in a dream while he texted me the questions. then when i woke from the dream in a dream i ended up doing a sacrifice because the next step in every relationship is murder.

Check out my Archive| Masterlist | Main Blog

#Dream deity #deity #monster boyfriend #Enigma-IM #deity boyfriend #confrontation #dream therapy #symbolism #teo #exophilia

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Curse.12 Again

[First] [Masterlist] [Next] Beta: N/A Rating: PG Pairing: Prince!Jin x Reader Genre: fantasy, romance, comedy, drama, mystery, and more good stuff Words: 2.4k

Summary: A modern-day fairy tale whereby seven young princes born under King Bang’s greed cannot find true love. Unless they break a special spell, called the ‘Bang curse’. In order to break the curse, Prince Seokjin must be loved by a ‘Blue’ blood, by a royal. That seems almost impossible when you have a pig nose. (based off the movie Penelope)

You left rushing out of the palace and throwing the coat to the van and jumping on the first bus towards your work. In such a rush, barely taking a moment to check your phone, hoping you would make it on time.

You arrive and the boss is sitting there looking at the clock, “you're eight-minutes late.” He growled and you frowned looking at him and checking your phone.

“I’m only three minutes late, that clock is slow”

“You should be arriving at least ten minutes before your shift and leave ten minutes after”

“Only if you pay for the extra twenty minutes, I legally won’t step foot onto this premises before my shift starts for insurance reasons”

“Listen don’t think about being late tomorrow or you will be fired” he breathed leaving you to run the store and you frowned taking a deep breath and getting to work.

Once your shift was over you headed home for a quick shower before you had to go to the bakery. You saw the landlady walking the hall, you sighed this wasn’t going to work out. You grabbed your things and packed your suitcase with everything you owned in it. It was sad really that your whole life fit into one suitcase.

You showered and changed leaving with everything and thanking the landlady for everything and apologizing that she had to put up with everything. You handed her an envelope. “This is everything I can give you right now”

“I wish you luck,” she said pushing the envelope back towards you. “I won’t take what you have left”

“Thank you I will definitely repay you one day,” you said looking at the floor “I will, I promise”

You took your suitcase and headed to work, it was a perfectly normal day at work. Everything was amazing and you were excited to see Seokjin again.

After work, you dragged your suitcase to the palace and handed it to the van waiting outside while slipping on the pink blazer equipped with the tiny camera.

Waking into the palace you were let inside and you walked the halls expertly. You located the room and in the middle of the room was a drum kit. You laughed, staring at it as you laid back on the couch closing your eyes for some sort of rest before Seokjin arrived.

It didn’t take long before his beautiful voice filled the room, “You are back” With all the joys of a child seeing their favorite person return after a long absence. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long enough to nap,” the yawn that cut through would definitely be a prelude to many more.

He laughed, “I have decided you must play the drums you have excellent timing and you are spontaneous and very impactful and loud and wild like a drum”

You nodded and tried to play the song ‘Epiphany’ you had tried to play every day for him but you were too busy laughing and banging the drums. “Okay, I get it, you don’t play the drums.” He was hysterical and it was a type of boyish flair you didn’t hear from him often. A pure sound, unlike his melancholy tones you were used to.

“You sound happy today?” You grinned walking closer to the mirror and smiling up at him “Why don’t we go out, we can get food and drink. You are losing your twenties in a tower, my prince”

“I can’t” his voice dwindled again and you pushed further you were wanting more and more of him every day, whether it be his voice, memories, time or physical presence you wanted it all and you didn’t know how much longer you could sit and be happy with these interactions.

You placed your hand flat against the glass and gave it a tap. “Jin?”

“You don’t have to leave yet do you?” His voice seemed disappointed, a return tap against the mirror signaled his hand was pressed against the reverse side, lined up with yours.

“I want to see you?” You whispered; eyes searching the glass and starring fixed where you could only guess he was watching.

“You really don’t?” He sighed, sounding distant like he had stepped away, “once you see me you will leave, they always do.”

“Not me.” There was truth in your words, he could honestly be the most hideous man on the planet and you would still feel this way. “If I left, I think I would miss you too much to stay away”

“I just can’t” his voice seemed distant and all you could feel was the cold glass reflecting your desperate eyes. This was just supposed to be work but you were getting attached to him. It was a dangerous game and you knew you had already lost.

He was witty, his puns were lame but they made you laugh wholeheartedly, the way he spoke genuinely about his interests and his love for food and cooking. The way he spoke about his brothers you could feel how much he cared for them. Everything he gave you made you want more, it was an unquenchable thirst.

“Jin, are you still there?” You were scared it had dawned on you how much you longed for him and you couldn’t imagine a day without coming to the palace for one of your chats.

“I am still here?” He said quietly. You thought to give him some space and you sat on the couch when your phone alerted you to a text from your manager at the bakery. Apparently, some money had gone missing earlier that day during your shift and everyone was called to a meeting in half an hour.

“I really can’t handle this now” You threw your phone onto the next cushion and hung your head in your hands.

“What is wrong?” Seokjin’s voice called and you didn’t move a muscle or even make a sound as you were running through the shift in your head.

“I have to go?” You whispered, standing and picking up your phone. You were close to tears the water that you had always waded in had gotten deeper and you used to be able to come up for air but now you were struggling trying to catch a break so you would have a chance to breathe. “Can, I come back later?”

“Of course, is something wrong?” He asked quietly and you nodded adjusting your handbag and looking back at the mirror.

“Only everything in my entire life” You turned to leave and he spoke three sad words that made your throat constrict.

“Is it me?” You strode back across the room and pressed your hands to the mirror.

“It is many things, but it could never be you” pausing for a moment you breathed. “I am sure you have enough beds in the palace, how about I stay the night and we can talk as long as you want”

“Really” He was excited by the prospect of spending more time with you, “I will get you a pretty room?”

“I want this one so I can be near you”

“I will arrange a bed”

“As long as the bathroom is private, I don’t want anyone looking at me shower”

“I promise that there are no rooms that look into the bathrooms”

“I will be back after this meeting and then it’s you and me for dinner” You pressed a kiss to the glass and ran out of the room and the palace passing Adora and another young man and you threw the jacket at Jay park and Alana and told the two to drive to the bakery.

You jumped out and told them to wait, walking into the so-called meeting you saw the bakery was closed. Besides you, there were only two other people in the shop and they were the couple who owned it.

“Please take a seat,” the wife said looking rather cold and you walked over slowly and hesitantly.

“Where is everyone?” You asked

“We only invited you,” they said and it dawned on you, they believed it was you.

“Ah you think it was me, well isn’t this swell?” you didn’t even bother taking a seat, instead you grabbed your handbag and began searching for your wallet “I get kicked out of my home this morning and now this, how much was taken from the till?”

The two seemed almost frightened by the sheer force with which you spoke. The woman seemed to try to match your fierce demeanor failing as she told you it was a few hundred. You counted out your money and threw it onto the table. Before turning from the shop and walking out. You leaned your head back in. “Oh, your husband has been sneaking off to the storage room with some of the young women who work here. You should leave him, he is a sleaze.”

You were throwing caution to the wind because what else was there to do, sit and cry about it, no you were not. You could sink to the bottom all you wanted and you weren’t going to struggle, because once you hit the ocean floor the only way was up.

The whole way back to the palace Alana and Mr. Park were nagging, “Listen we are running out of time, we need this photo” Mr. Park said as he drove away from your previous workplace.

“Why, Why do you need this photo?” You snapped

“Because he is a beast,” Alana said, causing you to roll your eyes, she was delusional obviously.

“Funny he seems nice enough, nice broad shoulders?” You thought back on Seokjin and your troubles seemed to melt away for a moment.

“Hello, Suryeon?” Adora asked “Right this way, Prince Seokjin has prepared dinner for you if you will follow me”

You were deep in thought about what the reporter had said, something about it didn’t sit right with you but the more you thought about it the more it gave you a headache. You were trying to push it away, so you could concentrate on your evening with Seokjin.

Outside the sitting room, Adora stopped you. “What do you think of the prince?”

“He is beautiful” You smiled “He is charming and his shoulders are so broad and he makes these dumb jokes that make me laugh. I feel like everything is okay when I am with him.”

She grinned, opening her mouth to press for more information when the door opened. And two young men stepped out. “Ah, you must be Miss Suryeon, I am Pddog the butler and this is Prince Taehyung”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my brother speaks of you often these days” He smiled shaking your hand, “Please grow to love him.”

Almost offended by this statement, there was nothing wrong with Seokjin in your opinion that warranted some sort of plea. “Who says I don’t already?”

“He is waiting,” Pddog said and you pushed open the door heart racing. Only to see that there was a table pressed up to the mirror. The laugh that escaped you was a humorless one, figures he wouldn’t really be eating with you.

Dinner was pleasant you almost choked at one point from laughter. After a sweet dessert, Seokjin told you to open the small box on the bed. Looking inside you saw there was a bath bomb, a pink leaf shape with the scent of coconut.

“I thought we could use bath bombs together,” cheeks turning a bright red he laughed, “we would be in two different bathrooms but perhaps we could message or call and relax together.”

“Of course, that sounds lovely.” You were given directions to the guest bathroom and you were told everything was in there for you, you nodded scooping up some clothes and heading to the bathroom.

You sat on the side of the tub amusedly watching the bath bomb fizz, before submerging yourself into the warm water. You took your phone and rang Seokjin placing your phone in a little holder so it wouldn’t fall into the water.

“Hello?” He answered

“Hello” you giggled “This bath is huge”

“Or, are you just small?”

“There was no need to attack me like that”

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you”

“Jin, it is a joke”

“Oh, okay, I’m sorry.” He spoke a little distantly “I saw my brother on the way here and he seems to like you, you must truly be an angel. My brother rarely trusts anyone with me.”

“I am honored he seems to approve of me” You heard a noise that sounded like a packet. “Are you eating chips in the bath?”

“No, I just opened a face mask?” His laugh was beautiful and loud echoing just right around the bathroom. “They will be on the left, you can use one as well if you like”

You were dressed and you entered back into the room your hair mostly dry. You curled up into the blankets and soft pillows and spoke with Seokjin until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. You kept thinking back to what Mr. Park had said.

“Listen, I need this photo as much as you need the money. Okay, we all got a past, I wasn’t always an old cynical guy. I was humiliated as a young reporter. I was shunned and my pictures were torn apart in front of me. No one believed the apprentice and no one would listen if you said the king got into a car accident that orphaned a little girl. I was there I had the pictures. Now I won’t let those royals get away with anything.”

It was snowing and there were kids slightly older than you, they were teasing you.

Your parents were smiling at you from the front seat of the car, you remember the red light and the stopped taking a moment to turn and ask you if you wanted a hot chocolate.

They through your pig plush toy over the fence.

Tires could be heard screeching in the background and the shattering of glass.

You were crying, cold, upset, and in pain.

“You dropped this?” His voice echoed as did the glass breaking. “I’m Jin”

He was fading away, and all you could hear was crying. As his image faded you saw his face with a pig nose.

You jolted awake and held your head in your hands.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin’s voice called and you felt your body relaxing “You were crying, I thought you might have been hurt”

“I am sorry I woke you, I just had a bad dream”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

“I think I remember how my parents died, I think it might have been a car accident”

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ohblackdiamond · 4 years

Text

little t&a (gene/paul, nc-17) (part 22 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 levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul and Gene’s date continues, with romantic rowboating and taunts by small children.

It was pretty outside, warm and sunny, with a slight breeze wafting through. Nature had always been a novelty at best for Gene; he’d been stuck on enough tour buses through rural two-lane highways and woodsy areas to be spooked by anything that wasn’t curated. Still, Central Park was a refreshing contrast to the cloistered, dingily glitzy feel of CBGB and Studio 54.

It wasn’t quite tourist season—as if New York had a tourist season anymore—and right at spring finals for the college kids. The only ones really out, for the most part, seemed to be natives. Mothers with their schoolkids, retirees getting some sun, that kind of thing. So Gene had slight misgivings about going out unmasked in the park, but Paul just tossed him his sunglasses again and dug out a wide-brimmed sunhat from the trunk for himself.

“But nobody’s going to recognize you,” Gene protested. Paul winced.

“I know. But I like the hat.”

It turned out Paul had enough change left for parking and a rowboat. Gene had fully expected Paul to toss him both oars, but Paul seemed keen on propelling the boat himself, despite his griping.

“I can’t believe they didn’t have one with the pedals,” he groused.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“It can’t be that hard.” Paul’s look of concentration made Gene tempted to smile. Why Paul was trying to impress him, he didn’t exactly know. He’d watched from a wry distance as Paul had attempted to win over girlfriend after girlfriend. He’d try to be cultured. He’d try to be romantic. He invested more in the girls he was serious about than had ever seemed to pay out for him, and he hung onto those girls until they yanked him off like a tick. God, Paul had even kept trying to make a go again with the girl who’d fucked Joe Namath behind his back. He was funny about it all, really. Once he had somebody, he didn’t want to give them up.

“Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing it backwards.”

“This is how they did it in the gondolas, right?”

“You’re not in a gondola.” It was hard not to laugh. Paul was rowing determinedly, moving the oars in the same direction he was facing, like he thought he was swimming. “You’ve got to go the other way with them.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. There you go.”

There weren’t many people out on the lake in rowboats and paddleboats, but Gene still caught sight of the occasional glance his way. He didn’t think they knew who he was; they were just judging him for sitting back while Paul did all the work. Paul’s cheeks were going slightly red, even though he was slowly getting hang of it, oars starting to lap the water instead of just shoving into it like a pair of spoons. The brim of his sunhat kept flipping up whenever a good breeze started up on the water.

“And on your right,” Paul said, in as dry an imitation of a tour guide as he could manage, “we’ve got… some trees. And on your left is another dock.”

“No kidding.”

“I can keep going. We’re coming up on what’s known as a bridge…”

“Five-star narration there, Paul.”

Paul laughed.

“Hey, I dunno any poetry to woo you with. Wait, maybe…” Paul scrunched up his face as he kept rowing towards the bridge. It looked deserted, for now. “‘In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.’”

“Well, it’s not exactly Keats…” Gene crooked a smile.

“It’s twelve years of education. Your tax dollars at work.”

“It should’ve been sixteen.”

“Do I have your heart yet?” Before Gene could answer, Paul shifted the oars back into the boat, maneuvering forward for a kiss as the boat floated beneath the bridge.

After, they strode out, arm in arm, sharing a cotton candy cone. Well. Gene was eating most of it. Paul was letting him. Sappy as hell, maybe. No, definitely. Then they walked over to where the Alice in Wonderland sculptures were, the same ones that’d been there ever since Gene could remember. The kids, let loose from school, were climbing all over the whole gang.

“Don’t look now. We may have to fight them over the carousel later.”

“Oh, I think we can take them.” Paul leaned over and half-bit, half-licked another bit of cotton candy off the cone.

“I don’t know, Paul. They might be from a tough neighborhood like Brooklyn.” Gene’s attempt at Peter’s accent was as bad as always, but he said it straight-faced enough that Paul laughed. “The six-year-olds might have shivs in their belt loops.”

“Their mothers, definitely.” Paul pushed some of his hair over his shoulder with his free hand. “I don’t think I went here more than two or three times when I was their age.”

“Their mothers’?”

“Their kids, c’mon.”

“I didn’t, either,” Gene admitted. “It was too far off from Queens.”

“Yeah, but—I lived in Manhattan when I was real little, y’know. That’s when we came to the park. I remember…” Paul trailed, getting another bite, “I remember Julia dropping her ice-cream and crying about it. Then my dad said we’d just have to share, so I dropped mine out of spite—”

“And wasted the whole thing? Did you hate her that much?”

“She wouldn’t have let me eat any of it. And I knew it.” Paul shrugged. “Julia’s nuts. She was nuts even then.”

“You’re hard on her.”

“I’ve got a right to be.”

Gene didn’t know enough about Julia to really argue that. He’d seen her maybe six or seven times in all the time he’d known Paul. Sometimes he’d gotten the impression that Paul was scared of her, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Think you share any better now?”

Paul laughed.

“Nah. Not really.” But he tilted what was left of the cotton candy cone towards Gene’s face again. Gene leaned in and bit off a large cloud of pink sugar. “You got off lucky, being an only child. The king never got dethroned.”

“Isn’t Julia older than you? You’re the one that dethroned her.”

Paul shrugged.

“Well, my parents wanted a boy, so they gave it another shot…” Paul trailed dryly. “See how well that’s worked out for them.”

“This isn’t permanent.” The statement didn’t feel right. Didn’t have quite the same ring as we’ll get you fixed had. But Paul just tore away another piece of cotton candy.

“That’s not what I meant.” He seemed to hesitate a little, taking a different, awkward tack. “I always wondered what only children did all day. That sounds stupid. But I… up until she was in junior high, Julia was always around, and…”

“I did the same things any other kid would. Just by myself.” Gene’s gaze traveled absently to the retirees sitting on park benches. One old lady was tossing popcorn at pigeons like alms. “Once I got to America, I read a lot of comic books, watched a lot of T.V.”

“Did you go to the movies much?”

“Not very much. I saw The Ten Commandments and Pinocchio.”

“Everybody saw The Ten Commandments.”

“They don’t make epics like that anymore.”

“No. T.V. killed movies.” Paul was sucking the sugar off his fingers as they kept walking. Not a new habit on his part, probably not even something he was doing with any real intent, but it was utterly destroying Gene’s focus. “Do you really like Pinocchio? Or do you just say that for the kids?”

“No, I really do like it.” Gene paused. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I never did before.” Paul pinched off another chunk of cotton candy, popping it in his own mouth before Gene could teasingly reach for it himself. “Eight years and I never even asked you your favorite movie. I bet half your groupies could do better than that.”

God. Meeting Carol must have really screwed Paul up. Had him thinking that those “100 Facts About KISS” articles actually meant something. Thinking that attraction ever had much to do with facts and figures. Or maybe Paul was trying to reach beyond that, somehow, feel him out in a way he never had before. Gene wasn’t sure.

“I never asked you yours, either.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Really?”

“Really. I couldn’t honestly tell you my favorite of anything.” Paul looked a little bothered by his own admission, the expression on his face sort of like what Gene had seen yesterday morning, when he’d talked about dressing up for Studio 54. When he’d talked about wanting to belong. But then Paul started plowing through again, that look vanishing. “What’d you like Pinocchio for, anyway? Please don’t tell me you had a crush on the Blue Fairy.”

“No, she didn’t have tits.” Gene considered the rest of the question for longer than he needed to. But Paul seemed to be hanging on for an answer. “Pinocchio’s a success story.”

“A success story,” Paul repeated.

“Yeah. He wants to be a real boy, he works hard, and he gets his wish. He gets everything he ever wanted. It meant a lot to me.”

He almost said more, almost starting going into depth with it. About how he wanted to do a cover of “When You Wish Upon a Star” on his solo album, if they ever got to do them. About how Jiminy Cricket seemed to almost speak to him. The magic was still so real to him somehow, intoxicating, inevitable. His whole life since coming to America hadn’t proved him wrong. He’d gotten everything he ever wished for; he really had. Almost everything. Gene started to clear his throat, try to articulate it, but Paul’s expression had gone from intent to distant in just a few seconds.

“Oh.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Paul shrugged, pushing the rest of the cone into Gene’s hand. “My back hurts. I should’ve let you row.”

“Want me to rub it?”

“No. I know exactly where your hands are gonna go.”

Gene finished off the cotton candy and tossed the cone into a nearby trashcan. They were nearly at the entrance for the carousel, anyway. Paul let go of his arm to dig around again in his own wallet, coming up with enough change for them both to join the handfuls of kids climbing onto the ride. More quizzical looks from the kids and even the parents, but Gene didn’t think he was getting recognized, at least not until he started for the carousel horse next to Paul’s, a large chestnut-colored one with a heavily festooned, red and green saddle. Gene hadn’t even climbed on properly when a kid, maybe six or seven, pointed at him.

“You’re too big.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re too big. You’re gonna break it.”

Paul was covering his mouth with his hand, clearly trying not to laugh, but then the little boy pointed at him, too.

“Your girlfriend is, too!” He said it with the confidence and indignation that only a grammar school kid could manage, a grammar school kid that still thought girls had cooties. Gene snorted. Paul looked slightly less amused than before.

“What do we need to do?” Gene asked, focusing all his attention on the kid. A year of student teaching, a year of actual teaching, all culminating into trying to discuss a pocket change carousel ride with a six-year-old. The little boy seemed vaguely surprised, then pleased, that Gene was giving him the time of day, puffing out his chest and pursing his lips in serious consideration.

“You gotta ride those.” His chubby finger waggled at the chariots. Next to him, Paul came within half an inch of mumbling a curse.

“Gene, c’mon, we’re not getting off the—”

Gene raised his hand, cutting off Paul. The ride hadn’t yet started, if only due to a few mothers with toddlers that were still trying to maneuver them both onto the horses.

“I think he’s got a point. We’ve tempted fate already.”

“What?”

“Well, I really shouldn’t be out in the daylight.”

Paul blinked, but didn’t say anything, looking wary. Gene smiled, turning to the little kid as he slowly slid his sunglasses off, exposing nothing but the whites of his eyes. His tongue lolled and waggled out like a dying fish on a hook.

“Y-you’re a vampire!”

The kid fled the carousel, screaming his head off. Gene rolled his eyes forward again and put back on the sunglasses, before he mounted the horse next to Paul’s. The carousel operator, somehow unfazed, started the ride a second or two later. Except for the creaks of the machinery and the tinny piped-in music, everything had gone dead silent. The kids on horses near enough were craning their necks for a look at the undead monster sharing the carousel. Gene was about to start obliging them with more leering and tongue-sticking when his gaze went to Paul again.

Shit. If he’d been pissed-off about the whole deal at CBGB, he had to at least be annoyed at Gene getting the attention of a whole carousel full of little kids in the park. But, looking at him, listening to him, Gene was surprised. Paul was actually laughing quietly.

“What is it?”

Paul shook his head. He was grinning.

“I was just thinking. All that effort to stay on these things, and your pony doesn’t even go up and down.” He leaned over, nudging Gene’s arm lightly with his fist, his other hand still grasping the pole. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

“So are you.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley

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slothgiirl · 4 years

Text

Shadowplay part 9

When you land, the sun's still out and bright. Just the way you imagine California to be. There's a small building hope of beaches and ice cream right out of the airport.

Of course, you hadn't accounted for customs. And another round of security checks. And then having to wait around for a checked bag. It's been nine hours and neither you or Alex are willing to make much in the way of conversation. Trading an exhausted smile as he nabs the suitcases off the baggage carousel.

You are tired. Legs all cramped up. Water has never sounded better. That's definitely why you let Alex intertwine his fingers against yours, holding your hand as he gets hold of an uber. You don't even protest the cost of an uber. Just add that to the perks of agreeing to this whole charade.

Stretching out in the car as you sit in traffic, you can't help but snipe, "can't believe I came all this way for this lovely view. So worth it."

Alex laughs, rubbing the bridge of his noes before his gaze settles on you. Has heat making its way up your cheeks. "Let's just set these bags down and grab a car love," he says, a plotting gleam in his eyes as he smiles at you, "Can't let your first night in LA go to waste."

"Alex," you instantly start, "I was only joking," though you doubt he isn't aware. Or that any protest of yours will stop him now that he's got a plan. "You could buy my love with a good coffee right now." You rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Coffee and a view," he promises.

"Do you even have a car in LA?" He didn't in London. But then the old city was a terrible place to drive in. The tiny roads. The sheer amount of people. The tub was the way to go.

Nothing like the vast Californian highway.

He grins, "and a motorcycle."

"Of course you do." You shouldn't be so surprised. You can't get enough of the sea as you drive up into the hills. The ocean as blue as the trees are green. The streets are more empty and soon enough you pull up on the side of a hill. It's by far not the largest house you've driven by.

They're all over the place. Some trying hard for the Versailles aesthetic, while others wouldn't look out of place on a minimalist instagram.

No. Alex's house is very him. The exterior resembles an English country house. A proper one not the ones poshos call houses but are really mansions. There's the american touches that make it much too neat to be charming. Larger than his home in england but then again it is the states.

Alex unlocks the door, dragging the suitcases in by himself despite your attempts to help.

"Can I," you ask him, gesturing at the blinds.

"Make yourself at home," Alex responds easily, already kicking his boots off.

You open the blinds, letting the light in. You try and take things in. The kitchen isn't as sparse as the one in london. But then again, he'd lived here with Arielle. So probably her influence. But that's where it ends.

The movie posters, ranging from Jean Luc Goddard to Raging Bull and landing on Tarantino, hanging on the walls are all him. Alex has selected enough movies to watch on your couch for you to know as much. you had never let him forget how boring you found Jean Luc Goddard and Stanley Kubrick.

A vintage record player sits by the TV. The couch a deep navy suede, and as rectangular as modernism allowed. It was hard to picture Arielle having met her.

He'd either gotten rid of any touches she'd left behind in the past eight months. Or there had never been any. It must be hard to have broken a relationship off and before the years was up, your ex is getting married.

There isn't even a thing layer of dust though he hasn't been here in months which means he hires someone to clean his home. A detail you're not surprised Alex, as meticulous as he is, didn't overlook.

"What do you 'fink," Alex asks, watching you from the hallway having changed into a white dress shirt and a navy blue blazer that was less saville row and more Saint Laurent. Always such a clothes horse. Which would've bothered you if you hadn't been the same. After all, you'd changed into a chloe dress before you'd landed.

"I think nothing beats a classic double breasted blazer," you tease him, sinking down into the couch, letting your words hang in the air as Alex scoffs, affronted. "And I don't think I'm moving from this couch ever again."

Laying down felt better than sex after a nine hour airplane ride.

"Not even for coffee," he asks, walking over to met you, looking down as you lay in his couch, amusement clear in his wide eyes.

"You'll have to bring it. Sorry not sorry at all actually."

Alex laughs, placing his knee by your legs as he hovers over you. From there, it's easy to reach your arms up, curling yours hands over his shoulders as you scoot over. He takes it for the invitation that it is, laying down next to you.

While the couch is wide, it's not that wide. There's not a part of your body that isn't brushing against Alex. And yeah, never getting up again.

You close you eyes, falling asleep with ease. Alex being there with you was so normal. So right. You shirt, your hands loosely around his neck. You don't miss when he shifts close to you, deliberately Just as confused about the thinning boundaries between you both.Where did the lie end and begin.

Alex rests his cheek against your hair. And you relax into his chest. It's too easy.

And you can't.

You can't confuse yourself more than you already are. Is he just this comfortable in your friendship? Or is it more?

With a great reluctance, you sit up, pulling away from him. Your heart deflating as you do. "So about that coffee," you wiggle your brows.

Alex smiles softly, looking up at you from hooded eyes, all the pomade in his hair keeping it intact through an airplane flight and laying down and all the times he goes to run his hand through it. "You only ever want me for me coffee."

You try and fail to keep a straight face as you utter, "I'm like a sugar baby but with coffee. A coffee baby." Alex drives a Pontiac down the LA streets. It fits the aesthetic he's carefully cultivated. Not that you stop from teasing him as all the modern cars lap him. "Oi," he complains, "leave me car alone and drink your coffee!"

"Never," you laugh, watching the city go by. You had no clue where you were headed, but were enjoying the ride. Drinking in the sunset as the city lights came on. Skyscrapers sit surrounded by highways. Dozens of cars flood the lanes, but no where near as slow as they had been earlier.

You roll the window down.

Alex skirts by the city, turning the volume up on an Zeppelin album. You would have guessed he'd head into the city. But the man was a hopeless. He loved nothing more than to do something lowkey and unexpected. It was often far more comfortable. From going with you to lunch in the park or finding a tiny out of the way pub out from the city center.

"I love listening to lemon song while I work," you comment, cracking your knuckles. This was the longest you'd gone since high school without hand sewing.

"No crooked stitches?"

"Never. I'm too pro for that son." I say using my best american accent. Which hello, you so were. Alexander McQueen himself got his start on Saville Row. Not just anyone worked there.

Alex turns, looking over at you, with a laugh. Streetlights casting a halo over his features.

"Eyes on the road Turner."

"I can do two things at once."

You roll your eyes. "Wear your sunglasses too while you're at it."

"If you insist love," he grins, reaching for the pair tucked into the sun visor. You giggle, shaking your head. You sip at your cup of coffee, smiling as you do. This was all so easy. But-

Taking a deep breathe you resolve to enjoy your time in Los Angeles together. To enjoy your trip up to Northern California without over thinking things. Especially right now that you two were alone.

You'd already played the part with his other two friends. It had been easy once you got started. And it was Alex.

You could-you are going to talk about this with him once you go back to London. Get your feelings out of the way and make sure Alex is on the same page. It's the tension you were getting tired of.

Alex takes you out of your thoughts as he reaches over and takes your hand in his.

You squeeze his hand right back, meeting his smile with one of your own. The drive up the side of a hill is dark. But it's worth it as you pull up to a building at the top. You recognize it vaguely from movies. Slate white with a manicured lawn and a view of the city. It's quiet this late. But not completely abandoned, and yeah that makes sense. Observatories seem like a nigh time activity.

You'd expect nothing less of Alex.

"Well you delivered," you grin,jumping out the car as soon as it's parked and stretching your arms above you before tossing the empty coffee cup into the nearest trash. The building draws the eye. Who knows how much cleaned has to be done to keep it pristine.

"Did you doubt me love," Alex asks, following behind you as you walk towards the overlook, excitement running through your veins. Or maybe it was just the coffee kicking in.

You shrug, faking nonchalance before Alex catches up besides you on the path. His hair looks especially shinny in the light like an oil spill in water. You tell him as much. "-I do appreciate the commitment though," you admit. Even at night, the California air, though cool, was pleasant even clothed in a summer dress.

"Leave me hair alone," Alex utters, looking at the ground bashfully. His back rested against the stone wall separating your from the cliffside. The city was breath taking. All the glittering lights like stars. And things were always prettier from far away as Monet had proven.

"You're right," you smirk, as you take in the enormity of the city, "it's too easy. Got to challenge myself." Lights filled your eyes and it was your first night in London all over again. Nothing charmed the more wistful part of your heart than a new city.

The highways filled with cars as usual. The hollywood sign looking as tiny as your pinky. The promise of tomorrow filling the night.

You lean forward, hands gripping the stone tightly as you sigh contentedly. All the tension ran out of your limbs. This had been the right choice despite the mess Sam was convinced you were getting yourself into. Not that she'd tell you not to: too invested in the drama of it all.

You glance over at Alex, about to make a witty remark about his deep romantic streak. The soul of a cheesy lover who would prefer About Time and 27 dresses above Kubrick if he just let himself. If he stopped trying so hard to be the artist the magazines claimed him to be.

But he isn't looking at the city.

Alex is drinking in the sight of you. Eyes brimming with emotion: the very same thoughts he could never translate into words, that had him turn to writing in order to make sense of himself.

Your breath hitches and suddenly Los Angeles seems incredibly distant and unimportant as you turn with your entire being towards him. The fluttering in your pulse absent as you meet his dreamy gaze head on. There's a assured core of emotions in your heart that keeps your heart beating evenly.

Its with resonant understanding that you look at this man who was all the more attractive for you knowing him.

Knowing that he took his shoes off inside without prompt. Who always argued over who'd pay the check out of his own sense of companionship and not a misguided attempt at gender norms. Who folded the blankets back up in the morning as you rushed to work in the morning.

It filled you up inside.

Alex takes a deep breathe in, taking a step into you. Your breath mingling with his.

His hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Grip solidifying as you acquiesce, relaxing into his hold.

No matter what happens later on. You want him in your life. As a friend. As a lover. You cannot imagine losing this connection. A rarity you'd come to realize in adulthood. A resonance you'd developed with Sam since childhood. That you lacked with so many of your adulthood friends.

Alex.

Alex fucking Turner.

He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

Letting out a sigh.

#Alex Turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #Shadowplay #mine

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vexedtonightmares · 5 years

Text

- blow, blow, thou winter wind -

i accidentally deleted the ask that sent me this prompt, but this is for the anon that asked me for a jack frost sander au ✨ u have no idea how much i loved writing this !! i’ve literally been dying to write something like this about these two and i’m very tempted to write a part two already...

read on ao3

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot: Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remembered not. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly...

- william shakespeare

Sander had always known he was a little different from everyone else. It hadn’t bothered him much when he was small, because everyone was a little different when you were that young, young enough that words came out in gibberish filled jumbles and walks looked more like waddles. Everyone wanted to be friends with everyone, and the things that made you unique were cherished by kids and parents alike.

It happened sooner than Sander would have hoped, that people began to realize his type different was dangerous. It started small, a brush of wind across cheeks, a chill that wouldn’t leave the air even in the summertime, but as Sander grew, so did his otherness.

These sorts of afflictions weren’t unheard of, but they were fairly rare, rare enough to the point that his parents decided it was best to hide, to blend in and not let that affliction creep out into the real world.

So, Sander wore gloves, even in the summer, and he stayed away from the kids his age. He was told he might hurt them if he got too close, so he found solace as his own island, the lonely boy on the playground that everyone had given up trying to befriend. The first time he messed up was when he was eight years old. Everyone was playing on the monkey bars on the playground, and Sander figured it wouldn’t hurt if he just waited his turn without talking or touching anyone. He really wanted to play on the monkey bars.

His first mistake had been taking off his gloves, but they were too hard to grip the bars with, and he would never make it across if he wore them. So he put them in his pockets and let his bare hands touch the monkey bars, smiling for what felt like the first time in a long time, and he raced across them. The other kids cheered him on, and he thought maybe I don’t always have to be alone.

But then Anna went after him, and the frost left behind from his fingertips was too slippery to hold onto. When she slipped and fell onto the concrete, head hitting the ground with a sharp noise, Sander thought he had killed her. Everyone did.

Thankfully, Anna was fine, just a little scraped up, but Sander and his parents were gone before she even came back to school. That was the first time, and, now eighteen years old, Sander had just moved for the sixth time.

It was no use keeping his magic a secret, people always found out no matter where he went or how hard he tried to hide it. His parents would never allow him to call it magic out loud either, they called it his curse, his illness, his affliction, like it was something ugly that had to be treated and kept away from others.

Everyone else called him Jack, short for Jack Frost, and they did it so much that he’d begun to respond more to the name Jack than the name Sander. His parents didn’t like that either, but what could he do? They were the only people in any of the places that he’d lived that referred to him as Sander anymore. Deep inside, Sander wished he could be Sander, but he’d found that life was easier when you went with the census instead of trying to push back against it.

So, Sander was Jack Frost, and he was reckless, and he never took anything or anyone seriously, because to do so would mean to be Sander again, and Sander no longer existed in the capacity he once had. If life was a movie, he was merely playing a role assigned to him, and if that role required him to act, to put on a show, who was he to refuse?

When he dyed his hair white, he decided that Sander was gone. They wanted Jack Frost, he may as well give it to them. It didn’t matter that, once he’d learned how to control his curse, he hadn’t used it once. Rumors were rumors and they never quite moved far enough to get away from them. Switching between schools in the same area of the country only helped alienate him, not give him a fresh start.

Everyone in his hometown knew about the boy with ice in his veins at this point, so there was really no use in pretending they didn’t. His parents weren’t pleased with any of this, particularly the white hair. All we’ve ever done is try to make you feel normal Sander, they’d said, And this is how you repay us? The sad thing was that they really thought that they were doing that, making him feel ‘normal’. He’d long since abandoned normal, since the day he discovered David Bowie and his life on mars.

David Bowie hadn’t had a curse like Sander, but he’d surely had some magic of his own.

Still, he hadn’t dared to allow his affliction to tempt him in a long time. He was at an art college now, away from his parents and his hometown and everyone who’d called him Jack Frost, and now people liked liked the creative, impulsive boy he’d become and they didn’t seem to be afraid. For all they knew, they had no reason to be afraid. Cautiously, be became Sander Driesen again, and he loved art, loved Bowie, and had platinum blond hair for reasons that had more to do with his art student persona than the fact that he’d lived two lives in one. He no longer had a curse, just a past life he had no intention of returning to.

But then he saw a boy, a beautiful boy with brown hair, brown eyes, and a luminous smile, and something inside him stirred. The post summer sun baked the word in a blanket of heat, and the boy had his eyes closed, looking up at the sky, and Sander sent a draft of cool wind in his direction. He saw the moment the wind ruffled the boy’s hair and the boy sighed in relief, easy smile crossing his face. Sander was so overcome with a rush of affection that he sent another gust of wind, letting it settle and linger around the boy, keeping him encapsulated in his own bubble of cool for as long as he could.

Eventually, Sander had to leave, and with his absence came back the presence of the sun. He saw the boy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he wiped new sweat from his forehead, but Sander was gone before he could contemplate staying for this boy, this anonymous boy who had unknowingly gotten him to go back on a promise he made to himself after his most recent incident.

It was fine, Sander rationalized, it wasn’t like it would ever happen again, like he would ever see this boy again. No one needed to know, and he never needed to think about it again. What was done was done, and no harm had been wrought on anyone, so there was nothing to worry about. Sander wasn’t Jack Frost, not anymore.

❄️❄️❄️

It happened again.

Beautiful boy’s name was Robbe, and Sander somehow ended up on a weeklong beach trip with him. At first he’d been worried about going on a trip with his very newly broken up with ex girlfriend and her friends, but they remained friendly and he’d already paid for his portion of the trip, so he’d decided to go into it with low but hopeful expectations. His parents had been thrilled to hear he was still going, less thrilled to hear that he and Britt had broken up, probably because she didn’t know about his curse and he’d had no intention of ever telling her about it.

He assumed his parents thought he’d never find anyone to love him, different as he was, and he’d only just proved them right. Even though he didn’t live with them at the moment, they still had their hand in his life, invading his thoughts and making him question himself every waking moment. Because of them, he worried a lot about being loved as well, but he’d spent enough time with Britt to know that it wasn’t going to work with her the way they’d both hoped.

But now, looking at the boy he’d shared a part of himself with, a part better left hidden, he felt that same tug, the tug of loving and being loved in return. He couldn’t be sure if Robbe felt it or not, but he hoped, and he yearned, and he panicked, because if he did, Sander wanted Robbe to know every part of him, not just the surface.

He decided to start slow, with Bowie, and to his surprise Robbe had responded with excitement and intrigue. It made Sander bolder, more willing to take risks on the off chance Robbe wanted him too.

The second time Sander slipped up and used his curse around Robbe was when Jens and Moyo had dared him to run into the freezing ocean in nothing but his underwear. It was much too cold for that, and all the girls tried to say so, but Jens and Moyo were unrelenting. Sander offered to do the dare for him, when no one else could hear, because Sander wasn’t bothered by the cold like everyone else. He could have sat outside in the dead of winter in nothing but a thin shirt and been perfectly fine. Obviously, no one knew that, but he could pretend. He’d had plenty of practice in pretending.

Robbe insisted on completing the dare, even though Sander could tell how uncomfortable he was, so he did the only thing he could think of: he froze the water by Jens and Moyo’s feet, just enough for them to freak out before Robbe even had a chance to get near the water.

Robbe met his eyes as Jens and Moyo screamed in shock, the girls squealing with laughter, almost as if he knew. But he couldn’t, right? His heart stilled as Robbe looked at him, but then the corner of Robbe’s mouth twisted into a smile, and Sander returned it with ease, cherishing the moments that made the rest of the world disappear.

When the week was over and he and Robbe shared a clean up task, Sander felt Robbe’s eyes on him the entire time and he wanted to know what it meant. They sorted empty bottles in silence until Robbe, voice soft as the wind, glanced up at him through his thick eyelashes. “You remind me of someone, you know,” he said, and Sander was intrigued.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Sander asked, allowing Robbe to see the light in his eyes. You make me feel this way, he wanted to yell.

Robbe was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Danny Phantom.”

And, well, that was new. Sander’s face split into a grin so wide he was a bit worried he looked like the cheshire cat as he laughed at Robbe’s statement. “Danny Phantom?”

“Have you never gotten that before?” Robbe asked like he genuinely couldn’t believe it.

“No,” Sander laughed, “Usually it’s—”

He cut himself off before he could go further, hoping Robbe would let it drop. What he was going to say was Jack Frost, but that’s not who he was anymore, few indulgences aside.

Robbe narrowed his eyes. “Usually it’s who?”

“No one,” Sander said a bit too quickly, but thankfully Robbe let it drop this time. “I can work with Danny Phantom,” he continued, “I had a bit of a crush on him as a kid.”

He analyzed Robbe’s reaction. They’d been skirting around saying things and not saying things, but now Sander had said something and the ball was in Robbe’s court.

Robbe bit the inside of his cheek, eyes trained on the ground but moving back and forth rapidly, like he was at conflict with himself inside his head. Sander hoped he hadn’t said too much.

But then Robbe looked at him, looked at him like he couldn’t help but look at him, even if he didn’t want to be looking at him as he said, “I think I still do.”

When Robbe then leaned in closer, Sander followed suit, still reeling from what he’d just heard. Robbe liked him Robbe liked him Robbe liked him Robbelikedhim. It was a mantra his head didn’t stop repeating until they were close, so close that Sander could feel Robbe’s breath on his face, could see that Robbe’s eyes were hooded in anticipation. The same anticipation that thrummed in his own veins. There was only one problem.

Sander wasn’t wearing gloves, hadn’t worn those gloves since he’d moved away from his parents, since he’d decided to be his own person again. He also wasn’t entirely in tune with his affliction and how his emotions might impact the frost coating his insides, all the way down to his heart. When Robbe said what he said, Sander wasn’t wearing gloves, and suddenly empty bottles were coated in a light layer of ice, burning Robbe’s fingertips as he looked down in alarm, then around in confusion, the air not yet cool enough to cause frost in such a manner.

And maybe Sander was Danny Phantom after all, because he was sure he looked pale as a ghost in that moment. Robbe looked up at him, then at the ice, but before he could say anything, Luca interrupted, saying something about how they needed to hurry because there was more to clean up. Just like that, the moment way gone, both the good and the bad, and Sander was left wondering if he needed to prepare to go back to hiding himself from himself.

❄️❄️❄️

Robbe hadn’t mentioned what happened, and Sander hadn’t brought it up, which meant their near kiss also sat unaddressed above their heads. Still, that didn’t stop him from pining, from looking for different ways every day to get Robbe’s attention or show him that he really cared for him. They’d known each other for such a short amount of time, but it felt like forever to Sander. Or maybe he just wanted it to be forever.

He’d been experimenting a bit, between bouts of longing, and even though it scared him deeply, he felt a rush of adrenaline every time he felt frost on his fingertips, glittering like crystals and radiating warmth through his body instead of cold, like they should have. He filled his bathtub up with water, then froze it with a touch, simply because he could. It gave him energy, made him feel a bit more alive. For so long he’d been sleepwalking through his life, but he’d never stopped to consider that maybe it was because his magic— his affliction— was something that could wake him up.

He didn’t really know how to unfreeze things, so the block of ice sat in his bathtub as he moved back into his bedroom, finalizing the playlist he’d been compiling for Robbe since they returned from their trip to the seaside.

Sander hovered over the send button for so long he thought he might have frozen himself, if that was possible. But fuck it, he decided, and bit the bullet, pressing send on his Bowie for beginners playlist. How long did he have to wait to facetime Robbe for live reactions to it?

After about 30 seconds, he decided that was more than enough time.

Robbe answered right away and Sander smiled to himself as he heard Space Oddity playing in the background. Robbe’s blush as Sander jokingly called him out was more beautiful than anything Sander had ever seen.

So, they talked, and they talked, and they made plans to hang out, because who cared if it was a Wednesday? Sander really just wanted to see Robbe, and he had a sinking suspicion Robbe was feeling the same.

The bar, later, they decided, but Sander’s mind was already spinning with possibilities. A bar was fine, fun, but it wasn’t anything special. And Robbe deserved special, he deserved the whole world if only he’d allow Sander to give it to him.

The whole world started softly, like winter winds whispering in your ear. A melody unspoken, an unimaginable desire, delicate and destructive feelings exploding in alarming symphony that no one else hears.

In other words, it was quiet. Despite the deafening roar of people in conversation surrounding him, the whole world went quiet when Robbe walked through the door, eyes searching for Sander full of hope and clarity.

When their eyes met, Sander heard a soft “What the fuck?” behind the counter, and he turned to realize a few bottles of vodka were frozen solid. He stood up as Robbe approached, trying to not look guilty, though he didn’t really think the bartender would think to blame him for some frozen alcohol.

“Hey,” he said, hoping Robbe saw just how happy he was to see him.

“Hi.” Robbe was more hesitant, hands folded inside his sleeves.

“I have an idea,” Sander said without preamble, yearning to warm Robbe’s hands in his own, but thinking better of the idea before his body caught up with his brain. He didn’t even know if he could warm someone up, or if he was simply too cold. Britt had never said anything, but then how did you say to someone that they felt like they were dead, a pale reflection of the normal vivacity of life?

Robbe raised an eyebrow as Sander started walking to the door. “Come,” he said over his shoulder.

“If you didn’t want to go to the bar we could have gone somewhere else…” Robbe said as he jogged to catch up to Sander.

Sander grinned at Robbe, noticing his small frown of confusion. “It was a good place to meet, but I’ve got bigger plans than a bar.”

“Oh?” Robbe asked, smile returning. “I wouldn’t have minded a beer, though.”

“What do you think our first stop is?” Sander asked pointing to the convenience store across the street. Robbe raised his eyebrows, but followed, laughing to himself.

Warmth, warmth, warmth. Robbe radiated it. Everything he did filled Sander with the light of a thousand suns and he couldn’t get enough of it.

When he emerged from the store with a few shitty gin and tonics, Robbe’s eyeroll lit his heart aflame, and when Robbe winked at him, making a joke about a conversation they’d shared when they’d met, it stoked the flames.

In Sander’s humble opinion, there was no display of youthful intimacy as grand or melancholic as riding your bike with the person you could see yourself caring most about in the world. It felt like a movie, the part where the violins swell and the audience thinks, oh, those two are soulmates. He hoped Robbe felt the same.

Through the streets and through a tunnel, Heroes played in Sander’s head the whole time. He yelled it as they raced through the tunnel, the chill of the wind having nothing to do with his affliction and everything to do with being alive. Sander had an idea, then, an idea that could end very poorly, or very spectacularly.

Robbe’s face was apprehensive as Sander unlocked the door, and Sander became worried, because he didn’t want Robbe to be worried.

“Come,” he said again, and Robbe followed, apprehension never fading though bravery started to take its place.

The pool was beautiful, a serene light aqua blue, and even though it was November, it welcomed them both. The cold was never afraid of him, but Sander had to admit that sometimes he was afraid of the cold. It had been his enemy so long, but at that moment he wasn’t afraid, so much so that he stripped down to nothing without thinking much of it.

He was Sander, the cool, spontaneous, reckless, artistic weirdo. He was Jack Frost, the cold, closed off, terrifying, powerful enigma.

The minute he hit the water, so cold it may as well have been ice, he felt like he was home. It didn’t scare him like it should have. Instead, he yelled for Robbe to join him, laughed and basked in the coolness of the water, the brightness of the lights under and surrounding the pool.

Then, Robbe was in the water, and Robbe was yelling, and Sander was terrified.

Then, Robbe was laughing, was teasing, (was shivering), but was bright, brighter than any star in the sky. Sometimes Sander didn’t know if cold was his warm, or warm was his cold, but he knew then that Robbe was light.

Who could stay underwater longer, they wondered, smirks on their faces. There was only one way to find out, wasn’t there? (Sander was positive that it was him, but he’d let Robbe have a go at it anyway.)

Once they were underwater, Sander had another one of those moments that stopped the world on its axis entirely. It gave him clarity and purpose. It was now or never, wasn’t it? Was this the moment his life began for real? He hoped, and hoped, and worked up the nerve.

It was now or never.

Immediately, he realized it was a mistake. Their lips barely brushed, and Robbe was pushing him away, stunned. How had he read the situation so wrong? The water started to get colder and Sander worked to calm his racing heart to make sure the water didn’t get any colder than that.

But then, above the surface.

“That was cheating!” A smile. Hesitation, but intrigue. Not a dismissal, not a refusal.

Sander could breathe again. “I won!” he shot back, and then they were going for a rematch, and Sander promised himself he wouldn’t try anything again, just in case.

This time, he admired Robbe under the water, looking him in the eyes and letting him know I'm here if you want me too. Was it just him or was Robbe getting closer? He barely had a moment to react to the feeling of Robbe’s hands coming up to cup his face, and he responded instinctively. Their lips met, for real this time, and the symphony in Sander’s head reached its crescendo.

Underwater kisses were awkward and clumsy and entirely irrational but they were also perfect. Their lips only parted for a brief moment before being pulled back in like magnets, and then their heads broke the surface but they didn’t break apart. They kissed with urgency, like this moment might be stolen if they weren’t careful. The desire that had coursed through Sander’s veins was matched by Robbe and expanded upon. They couldn’t let each other go, and they didn’t want to.

Sander loved dogs, he really did, but when he heard the dog bark, he cursed the world for not letting him have this one thing for more than a fleeting moment. So, they ran, but at least they ran together, and if Sander froze some of the water sitting in puddles on the ground above the pool to make it harder for them to be caught, no one needed to know.

❄️❄️❄️

Nothing had prepared Sander for the aftermath of their kiss and the rollercoaster of emotions that would accompany it. Robbe was scared, Sander could see that, but he hadn’t realized how deep that fear ran. He said things Sander knew, in his heart of hearts, that Robbe didn’t mean, but it didn’t make them hurt less.

He’d been called names his entire life, so often that he’d let these false identities consume him, but he’d realized recently that Sander was the only person he wanted to be, and he would no longer put up with being called other names, whether it be Jack Frost or something much, much worse.

Robbe was light, Robbe was the only voice he wanted to hear first thing in the morning, but Robbe might have lost him, something that hurt Sander’s heart to even think about. It was a good thing he was so accustomed to being alone. He’d had and lost light many times in his life before, and even though it hurt every time, he got through it.

He spent the next few days wishing to see Robbe just one more time, and hating himself for wishing to see Robbe just one more time. No one should be able to disrespect someone like that and get away with it, but Sander had been walked over his entire life and it was hard to change that, even if he really wanted to.

Then Robbe showed up at his school, and he had to make a choice. Forgive, forget, fight, flight, freeze… In the end, he was falling hopelessly in love, and if there was a chance for them, he wanted to take it.

Because fuck Chernobyl. And fuck Jack Frost. And fuck everything that had held Sander back from accepting love into his life because he’d convinced himself he didn’t deserve it. He did deserve it. Robbe had messed up, but Robbe deserved it too, and Sander realized that forgiving someone was much easier when you realized how much brighter your world was with them in it.

He was still nervous to go to Robbe’s flat the next day, scared he’d be pushed away, but Robbe embraced him immediately, wide smile on his face, kissing him senseless once they were inside his room with the door closed.

Sander never thought he’d experience this sort of tender intimacy, the deep conversations that didn’t need explanation, the thoughts that weren’t invalidated as they were spoken, even if the two of them didn’t have the exact same ideas about everything. When Robbe talked about parallel universes, Sander wondered if there was one where he was normal, where he and Robbe were laying there in the exact same position, but he wasn’t Jack Frost, or Danny Phantom, or anything else. He wondered if that life would be preferable to this one.

After a while, Robbe sighed, tucked into Sander’s side like a koala clinging to a tree branch. “Hm?” Sander asked sleepily, running his hands through Robbe’s hair.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Robbe sighed dramatically, clinging closer to Sander. Sander grinned minutely, tightening his grip as well.

“That’s too bad,” he joked. Robbe smiled at him, pressing a small kiss to his arm. It was strangely intimate, even more so than a kiss on the cheek or the head.

“Ok, seriously though,” Robbe said, trying to detangle himself. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Sander whined, clinging to him still as Robbe tried to stand up, falling face forward onto the soft mattress as Robbe successfully extracted himself. He sat up with a huff, reaching out just as Robbe reached the door, not even thinking until his mistake became evident. The door wasn’t locked shut, it was frozen shut. Robbe flinched back in surprise, analyzing it. “What the hell…”

He looked at Sander, ghost of a smile on his face dropping as he noticed Sander’s guilty expression. “Hold on,” he said, and Sander prepared himself for the worst.

“You did that.” It wasn’t a question, but Sander nodded reluctantly, shame filling his every pore. He was such a fool. Of course he’d ruined this thing, this beautiful thing, before it had a chance to be something truly great.

To his surprise, instead of kicking him out, Robbe, rejoined him on the bed, bathroom forgotten. “You’re like Emma…” he trailed off absently.

That wasn’t what Sander had been expecting. “What?”

Robbe’s eyes widened as he blushed, coughing awkwardly. “Um. Emma. From this one tv show.”

“What tv show?” Sander was still confused.

Robbe whispered something, and Sander raised his eyebrows, forgetting for a moment that he’d just shown Robbe the one part of himself that was better left unseen. “H2O,” Robbe said again, a bit louder.

“The one about the Australian mermaids? From like 2006?” Sander clarified, beginning to grin.

“No!” Robbe shot back instantly, expression turning from defensive to sheepish as he watched Sander watch him. “Yes.”

“And I’m Emma?” Sander clarified. Truthfully, he had no idea what Robbe was talking about. He’d heard of the show, but didn’t know anything about it other than mermaids.

“Emma can freeze things,” Robbe said defensively, and Sander was helpless. He just had to kiss Robbe, he had to.

To his surprise, Robbe accepted the kiss, threading his hands through Sander’s hair. When they broke apart, Sander’s heart picked up its pace as he addressed the elephant in the room. “You aren’t scared?”

Robbe frowned. “Why would I be scared?”

“I have an affliction,” Sander said, “I can’t get rid of it no matter how hard I try.”

Robbe placed his hands in Sanders, and Sander could only imagine how cold his own hands were, though Robbe’s were nice and warm. “You say that like it’s some sort of disease,” Robbe said confusedly.

“Isn’t it?” Sander asked genuinely. That was what he’d been told his entire life, why should he believe any different?

Robbe pressed their foreheads together, meeting Sander’s eyes with a shy smile. “Sander, this is anything but a disease. You aren’t sick, you’re pure magic.”

It was so easy to believe it when Robbe said it with so much sincerity, but Sander had seen enough bad things happen because of this ‘magic’ to be so optimistic. “You don’t know what I’ve done,” Sander said pulling away and leaning back against Robbe’s headboard.

“Then tell me,” Robbe said, “I promise I won’t get scared.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Sander said, shaking his head. Robbe would want nothing to do with him if he explained all the problems he’d caused.

“I don’t intend to,” Robbe answered stubbornly. Sander felt so much tenderness, so much affection for him in that moment. He knew it wouldn’t last, no matter what Robbe said, but he told the truth anyway. He told Robbe everything, his entire devastating history.

Robbe listened with rapt attention, lacing his fingers through Sander’s, tightening his grip every now and then as Sander spoke. There was nothing in his face that said he was as terrified as Sander expected him to be, but Sander knew better than to hope for the best of people. He’d long since proven he didn’t deserve it.

He could barely bear to look Robbe in the eye as he finished, so he did so with his eyes closed, head down. His whole life he’d been walking with his head down, and he cursed himself for being stupid enough to believe that Robbe could be the one to raise his head to see the light.

“Sander.” Robbe’s voice was soft and his fingers were feather light on Sander’s chin, but he refused to open his eyes. Sander shook his head stubbornly, feeling his tears freeze as they fell down his cheeks.

“Sander,” Robbe repeated, more urgently.

Sander opened his eyes, knowing he must have looked like the most pitiful human alive. But Robbe, he was smiling. He shouldn’t have been smiling. He should have been afraid, disgusted. The hand that had been holding the bottom of Sander’s chin moved to his cheek, Robbe’s other hand coming to rest on the other side of his face in perfect symmetry.

What Robbe said next, Sander would never forget as long as he lived.

“You make me feel like sunshine.”

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #rosander #wtfock fic

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d3-iseefire · 5 years

Text

Belated Writing Wednesday

Really Belated Writing Wednesday! SO this was a story I started months ago and hadn’t finished. It’s finished now, and is long enough to be about a four chapter long fic SO I’m gonna post a chapter a day til the fic goes away. :D :D

Little Warning: This fic gets pretty intense later on so please keep in mind that it’s still me writing it which means it’s still T Rated, No Archive Warnings and a Happy Ending. :)

For those who watch the show Supernatural, Sam and Dean make a cameo but the story is mainly about Bilba and Fili.

Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy! Chapter 2 will be up tomorrow (on AO3). I’m not going to post each chapter on here, I don’t think, but I’ll post something letting you all know it’s up.

In the meantime, here’s the link what will eventually be the full story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702031/chapters/51764428

Bilba met Fili on a rainy January evening when she was six and he was eight. The rain had left her stuck inside, and she'd been slowly going stir crazy. Her foster mother had turned the lights down to put a movie on and, while the other children were engrossed, Bilba took the opportunity to sneak out to go exploring.

She headed straight to the basement.

None of the kids were allowed down there and she could just imagine the looks of awe she would receive from the others when she regaled them with tales of her adventure.

Tragically, what she found were boxes, and dust. Lots and lots of dust that tickled her nose and sent her into a violent sneezing fit.

When she'd finally recovered, she’d looked up to see a young boy staring at her suspiciously from the other side of the room.

Fili, as he’d introduced himself, had snuck in to look for monsters. The way he said it, all serious and solemn, nearly made Bilba laugh but she managed to control herself and simply nod back with what, she hoped, was an equal level of gravity.

She could understand where he'd gotten the idea. The home she had been placed in was in an apartment building, five stories with a stone exterior stained dark in places by the passing of years. In wintertime the leaves died off which left the trees spindly and creepy and, at night cheap lightbulbs caused an otherworldly orange light to shine from the windows.

Bilba thought the place had a ghost, and she lived there.

She’d ended up helping Fili look because it sounded like fun (even though he continued to insist it was very serious) and, together, the two hunted through boxes and searched shadowy corners for any evidence of ghosts, ghouls or other assorted monstrosities.

It had been nearly an hour later that her foster mother found them, along with a tall, dark haired intimidating man that turned out to be Fili’s uncle. Fili had been dragged off, while Bilba had been sent to her room for the evening for sneaking away and making everyone worry.

That might well have been the end of it, if it hadn’t been for Fili showing up a few days later to see if she wanted to play. This time he’d been dropped off by a different, just as intimidating, man Fili had introduced as Dwalin.

Dwalin had left and she and Fili had spent the entire afternoon running about playing. This had been followed by a similar afternoon the next day, as well as the one after that and the one after that. It was nearly five days later, in fact, before Dwalin had arrived to take Fili away again.

Bilba had cried for hours.

Two weeks later and he was suddenly back again, this time with a younger brother named Kili in tow. They'd stayed for only two days this time; and then it was another week before they arrived again.

It became a normal, if irregular, occurrence after that for both of them to be dropped off. Her foster mother explained that she and Fili's uncle were old friends, and she watched his nephews while he was away on business trips.

Fili insisted that his family was off fighting monsters, and they knew her foster mother because they'd once saved her from one.

Bilba didn't really believe him but had to admit his story was more interesting than the one her foster mother told.

As they grew older she grew closer to both of them, but her bond with Fili was always a little bit deeper than it was with Kili. When they were gone, Bilba spent most of her time sitting at her bedroom window waiting for him -- them to come back.

Fili began to visit more often, not always with Kili, and not always times where he had to stay. His family lived in a small, rundown house on the edge of town, and he’d ride an old battered bike in to spend the day with her.

On Bilba’s eight birthday, Fili and his family showed up to take her out for dinner. It was the first time she'd felt like part of a family, just like any other kid out with their parents and siblings to celebrate. The restaurant staff had given her a free cupcake with a cheap, plastic eight that she'd carefully preserved and hidden away for safety.

Later, Bilba got permission to go with Fili and his uncle on outings, sometimes to that rundown house on the edge of town, other times to the movies or the park or mall. Once, they all went to the beach and she got to see the ocean for the very first time.

She got to know them all. Fili of course, and his uncle, and then Kili. There was also Dwalin and a host of other people who came in and out at various times. Many of them were quite serious and had a tendency to brood, but they were always very kind to her.

She never met Fili and Kili's parents. The one time she'd asked, Fili had gotten sad and simply told her they were gone.

Fili's family seemed to get hurt a lot, often sporting bandages or favoring arms or legs, but she was always waved off when she tried to ask what had happened. Fili and Kili never got hurt. He said it was because he wasn’t old enough to hunt monsters yet and, as always, Bilba simply nodded and accepted it. She’d learned long ago not to be a bother. When you were a bother, people didn’t want you. She didn’t ask silly questions or raise her voice and she certainly didn’t go anywhere near the many weapons they told her to stay away from.

In addition to them, Bilba also got to meet Tauriel. She was a friend of Kili's and, when she visited, she spent a lot of time sharpening her own weapons. She was Fili’s age but, as he always complained, her family let her hunt. She rarely ever got hurt. When Bilba asked why, Tauriel said it was because she knew when to duck.

Fili got his first knife when she was eleven and he was thirteen. Soon after, Bilba stopped seeing him as often. Instead of being left behind while his uncle and Dwalin went on their trips (to hunt monsters as Fili always insisted) he went with them. Kili still came to stay sometimes, but it wasn't the same for either of them and he soon stopped.

It was around this time that the doubt first started to creep in.

She supposed it came from watching the other kids around her come and go. Mostly go. There always seemed to be people looking for a little boy or girl to come and complete their family.

No one ever asked to meet her.

She didn’t know why. Maybe she wasn't pretty enough or smart enough or a thousand different things. In the end, all that mattered was she simply wasn't enough. No one wanted her. As time passed, a small voice inside her head began trying to convince her that Fili and his family didn't want her either.

Sure, they took her out, but they always brought her back. Always turned and drove away. Off on their business trips for days, or even weeks, at a time. Without her.

They never offered to adopt her, never even seemed to consider it.

Some of the other kids taunted her for it.

Sometimes that voice inside her head taunted her too.

Maybe, it would say, she’d never been anything more than a built-in playmate to keep Fili and his brother busy and out of his uncle's hair.

Maybe they thought she was annoying even though she tried her hardest not to be. Maybe they only tolerated her. Maybe Fili thought she was annoying but was too nice to get rid of her or maybe they thought of her as nothing more than an irritating little girl who couldn’t take a hint.

Maybe they were just waiting for her to go away.

The thoughts got louder as she got older, particularly once her eighteenth birthday started to become less of a far-off concept and more of a rapidly approaching reality. She couldn’t stay in the home once she turned eighteen. She’d have to move out, find a job and place to stay.

She'd be all on her own.

When she was three months from her eighteenth birthday and he was well into his twentieth year, Fili got hurt for the first time. Really hurt. He'd been hurt before, ever since he started going away on those business trips with his uncle, but it had never been more than a few cuts and bruises or, once, a broken arm.

This time he came home unconscious and pale, with blood still staining his neck and soaking through his shirt in a bigger pool than she’d ever seen. His breathing had been shallow, and his pulse been so slow she almost couldn’t feel it.

His entire chest had been wrapped in heavy bandages and she knew he should be in the hospital, hooked up to all manner of machines and tubes, but instead they put him in his bed and set up a crappy old IV pump that they’d stolen at the same time they’d snuck him out of the hospital he should have been in.

It was the first time Bilba had gotten mad at them.

It was the first time she’d yelled.

It was the first time they’d yelled back.

She’d threatened to call the police, and they’d threatened to take Fili and leave...and never come back.

Bilba would always remember the cutting pain as those words had lanced right through her. She'd reeled back as if they'd physically struck her and, in many ways, they had.

Kili had shouted at his uncle, while Dwalin had ordered them all to shut up and, through it all, Bilba had simply...stood there.

She hadn't moved until their uncle had stalked from the room and slammed the door behind him. Kili had tried to talk to her but Bilba had simply shaken her head. She’d gone and stretched out on the bed next to Fili...and stayed there.

For days.

For weeks.

No one from her foster home came looking for her.

It had taken three days for Kili to convince her to eat, and then only because he’d threatened to have Dwalin drag her from the room if she didn’t. After that, Bilba had made sure to eat, and shower and do what she was supposed to do.

She did it by rote.

She did it in silence because if there was one thing she now knew with utter certainty it was that while she couldn't live without Fili and his family, they could certainly live without her.

Life could be unfair that way sometimes.

Fili took two and a half weeks to wake up, and it would be weeks more before every moment of that waking wasn’t spent in agony.

Bilba stayed with him the entire time, even later when he was mostly healed, and the rest of the family started their business trips again.

She finally asked Fili what happened.

He told her it was monsters.

Something inside her had snapped. She'd screamed at him and, for the first time since they'd met, Fili had realized she'd never believed him about the monsters.

The fight that followed was the biggest they’d ever had, mostly on her end. All of it suddenly came pouring out. The horrible voice in her head, her anxiety over her eighteenth birthday, the gut churning terror she’d felt as she’d watched over him and begged him not to leave her.

At some point he’d stopped and simply listened to her, eyes wide. Bilba had wanted to stop, had told herself to stop, to just simply shut up, please shut up, for the love of god, just shut up.

Don’t be a problem.

Don’t make his life harder.

Don’t get in the way.

He won’t want you anymore.

None of them will.

They'll leave and then where will you be?

Alone.

That's where.

She couldn’t seem to stop, however, and by the end of it her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were swollen and puffy, and she was shaking so hard it was a wonder she didn’t collapse.

She’d run from the house before he could tell her that he hated her. When he'd tried to visit she'd refused to see him, and when her phone had rung with the ringtone she'd set for him she'd turned it off.

Eventually he'd stopped trying, and she’d finally learned the answer to the question she’d always been too afraid to ask.

It had been an illusion.

A myth.

A pleasant dream she’d used to pass the time until she was forced to face reality.

No one wanted her, and no one ever would.

Read the Rest Here As It’s Posted: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702031/chapters/51764428

#Writing Wednesday #Belated #Writing #My Writing #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Supernatural #LOTR #The Hobbit #Hobbit #Fili #Female Bilbo Baggins #Sam Winchester Cameo #Dean Winchester Cameo

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Ocean and Alcohol Pt. 13 ✘JJ Maybank✘

part one! part two! part three! part four! part five! part six! part seven! part eight! part nine! part ten! part eleven! part twelve!

(gif not mine! all credit to toesure!)

Word Count - 5663 Warnings - SOFT, this is too soft, too tender. I apologize. More serious warnings include swearing and that’s mostly it. Synopsis - You and JJ finally get a few hours alone. The gold is found with very few snags, but problems arise when you try to sell it off. Taglist - @bitterbethany @lovelymaybankk @ilymarkchan @downbytheouterbanks @clearcolourlessglass @obxwriterfan @tangledinsparkles @chill-sushi @summerintheobx @kiarasgold @lovelyfreshfestival @lolitstiana @divcrdown A/N - We got it all in this chapter; soft JJ, angry JJ, jealous JJ, protective JJ. I was rereading some of the earlier chapters and decided that JJ and Elm hadn’t been alone together recently enough, so there’s a whole five pages worth of just them, so there’s a gift for you I guess. I hope the rest of the chapter is something you enjoy! I skipped a relatively large portion of the plot because I didn’t want to write it out, but it still happened. I hope all is well with you guys and thank you so much for the 200 followers! stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy!!

***

You and JJ sat out on the dock, kicking your legs back and forth. Despite the chill in the air, you felt warm with JJ beside you. The sun was even lower than before, the sky painted with beautiful purples and deep blues. The dwindling light of day cast the horizon in a golden hue. You tried not to look at JJ every three seconds, but he looked so...beautiful with the light against his skin.

“What?” He asked, laughing. You felt your cheeks redden as you turned your gaze back to the sunset. You shook your head, trying to cover for yourself now that you’d been caught.

“Nothing.” You dropped your gaze down to your feet. “It’s nice to have time alone when we’re not both half asleep.”

JJ bumped your shoulder with his. You laughed, pushing him right back. He grabbed your chin and gently turned you to face him. Your laughing died instantly, heart starting to pound in your ears. The water underneath the dock responded just as strongly as your gut. But he didn’t kiss you, not right away at least. His eyes scanned your face. His gaze landed heavily on your cuts, your bruises.

You wanted to look away. Shame crawled deep inside of you, twisting in your stomach. Sure, JJ understood how you felt, but it didn’t make it any easier. It was like having your skin peeled off and being put on display for all to see. There was no hiding from him when he was this close. He could see the rage of your father and the impression it left on you. For anyone to see all your scars, both literal and metaphorical, it was almost too much for you to bear.

After spending so long avoiding any kind of personal attachment, you weren’t sure how you had managed to let JJ in so quickly, so deeply. You had spent your entire life running from anything that could put you or Kid at risk and now here you were, running headfirst into JJ Maybank.

When he closed the distance between you, he didn’t kiss you on the mouth. Instead, he pressed his lips against the cut on your cheek. The movement startled you. You straightened your back, cheeks turning red once again. But JJ didn’t stop there. He kissed the bridge of your nose, where you had to reset it after your dad broke it. You let him tilt your jaw upward, so he could kiss the yellow bruise Rafe left behind from the summer movie series.

It was a different feeling than you were accustomed to when it came to kissing. You had grown used to the whirlpool and the storm and the riptide and the strong current. This was something else entirely. It was the goldilocks zone; where your feet were in the water enough just to keep your senses alert, but you were still very much on land.

Gently, he leaned down to kiss the cut on your lip. You watched him carefully, never take your eyes away from his face. But he didn’t look up, fixated completely on the rest of you. This tenderness was more than you could handle. It felt too much like…

You couldn’t bring yourself to think about it. Not when last time you said it, it freaked him out.

And then he finally pressed his lips to yours and the swell in your stomach turned into a wave until finally, it consumed you whole. You leaned into the kiss as far as he would let you. He pulled you closer, curving his fingers behind your head and using his thumb to keep your head tilted upward.

He dropped his hand to rest along the bottom of your neck, as he always did. The deeper you fell into the kiss, the tighter he pulled you in. You were lost in his touch, lost in his taste.

His hand wandered farther up your neck. You hadn’t realized until you felt a twinge of pain, like someone poking at a bruise. Which, of course, he was doing accidentally. When you first felt it, you ignored the pain, not wanting to part from him. But the second time, you flinched and JJ felt it. He sat back, breaking the kiss. You sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly through your nose. The pain in your neck was gone immediately as he removed his hand.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought for breath. You shook your head, not really wanting to tell him it hurt. Because it didn’t really hurt, or at least, it didn’t bother you. Not when he was there. “Ellie, you can tell me.”

You grimaced, turning your body away from him and back to the marsh. He didn’t push, but he didn’t look away, still expecting an answer.

“I thought you didn’t do the emotional shit,” you said, hoping that a laugh would keep him from asking any more questions. Clearly, it didn’t. You cleared your throat, kicking your feet again. “Do you ever...after your dad hits you, do you ever feel, like, I don’t know….”

“Like it’s my fault?” You looked over at him. “Like I somehow deserved what I got, that I had it coming?”

You bobbed your head up and down slowly, twisting your lips.

“And when people look at you, all they can see is the bruises and the scars,” you added and you swallowed a lump in your throat, forcing yourself to keep talking. “I mean, there’s got to be more to us, right? We’re not just a couple of kids who are beat around by our dads and abandoned by our moms.”

JJ nodded his head slowly.

“I used to feel like that a lot more,” he said. “But then I met the Pogues and I learned that, yeah, there is more than just a shitty home life.”

You smiled at him. It was good to hear.

“That’s sweet,” you said. He rolled his eyes.

“Sweet isn’t really the word I would use.”

“Then what word would you use?”

JJ looked out to the ocean. The sun had gone completely by then, not even the barest hint of its light peeking over the horizon. He thought for a moment, squinting his eyes. You watched him carefully.

“Despite all the shit our parents put us through, there’s gotta be one good thing that takes away from it all, that isn’t connected to all that shit,” he said and looked over at you. “For me, it was the Pogues. They’re my one good thing.”

You nodded your head, looking at your knees.

You wondered what your one good thing was. Maybe it was Kid, but JJ said it had to be disconnected and for as much as you loved Kid, how was in the thick of it just like you were.

Turning toward JJ, you lifted one knee up, propping your elbow against it. You searched his eyes for a few moments, looking for something. He simply stared back. He finally lifted his hand and brushed his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his touch, breathing in deeply. When you opened your eyes, your gaze fell on the cut on his eyebrow.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You asked, lifting your hand to move a fallen strand of hair out of his face. JJ looked down as your fingers grazed over the cut above his eye.

“Like I said, I got arrested for sinking Topper’s boat and my dad wasn’t too pleased with a 25 thousand dollar restitution,” he said with a bitter laugh. You pinched your eyebrows together.

“How did you get arrested for something Pope did?”

“I told them I did it.”

“JJ-”

“Don’t.” He shook his head at you. “I told him to do it so I took the fall. Pope has too much to lose.”

“And you don’t?” He looked down, his hand falling from your face. “You don’t always have to look out for everyone else, you know.”

JJ scoffed, lifting his head toward the stars.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said and gave a shrug before letting his eyes fall back onto you. You sighed deeply, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

“I can pay the restitution,” you said softly, knowing full well that he would protest.

“No way, Ellie.”

“I want to help you. I...I don’t have the money myself but I can always ask my dad-”

“Forget about it.”

You watched him for a few moments, but it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything further. So, you finally let out another low sigh and gave him a smile.

“Okay.”

There was no way you were going to forget about it.

But, JJ didn’t give you much time to think because he stood up and offered you a hand, his mood changing instantly.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he pulled you to your feet. JJ’s mischievous smile pulled against his lips and you immediately regretted asking.

“How about a swim?”

“JJ…”

“It’s a perfect night for it!”

Before you could protest any further, he scooping you up into his arms.

“Hon,” you said slowly, peering down at the water below. “If you throw me in-”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teetered on the edge of the dock, making you cling tighter to his neck. “That water looks so nice, doesn’t it?”

You glared at him.

“No, it doesn’t. I don’t have any other clothes-” He leaned farther forward. “JJ!”

“Relax, Ellie,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve got clothes you can wear.”

And then he jumped.

Your stomach dropped just before you hit the water, a similar feeling to whenever JJ kissed you. When you broke the surface, the cold water shattered through you in all the best ways. The night had been warm, almost unbearably so. The chill of the water washed away the sticky, clammy feeling from your skin.

JJ let you go when you hit the water. You let yourself float for a few moments. For all your protesting about going in the water, it was just what you needed. You kicked your way to the surface once your lungs decided they needed air. Once your head was above the water, you gasped in a breath. JJ was right there, inches away from you, with a grin on his face, hair dripping wet.

“Not so bad, huh?”

You tried to fight back a smile as you pushed him. He laughed, grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you in. You let out an overdramatic sigh as he brushed your wet hair back and out of your face.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to pretend that he wasn’t pulling you in even closer.

“You’re welcome.”

You weren’t surprised when he leaned down to kiss you. It was a short kiss because the water still tasted bad.

“You wanna go inside?” He asked.

“What happened to going for a swim?”

He shrugged.

“Race you back?”

“You’re so on, bucko.”

***

JJ sat on the bed when you emerged from the bathroom, wearing one of his spare shirts and a pair of his boxers.

You thought he might say something about how you looked wearing his clothes, but he just stared at the floor. You sat next to him, running your fingers through his hair a few times.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“What happened between you and Rafe?”

His question took you aback. You stiffened, letting your hand fall to your side. From the look in his eyes, you knew it was a question he had been wanting to ask you for a while.

“No-nothing happened,” you said, looking down at your hands. “I mean, nothing that really-”

“Just tell me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to be thinking about Rafe, not right now. Standing, you wrapped your arms around your waist, trying to figure out what exactly to say.

“Remember what I said about…?” You waved in the general direction of your face.

“Someone was taking pictures.” You nodded your head slowly, pressing your lips into a line. JJ seemed to connect the dots then. “Rafe took the pictures.”

You could hear the rage in his voice, his hands curling into fists.

“But it wasn’t him who showed them to my dad,” you said quickly, hoping to deescalate the situation before it escalated at all.

“Then who did?”

You swallowed, chewing on the inside of your lip.

“Topper.”

“Goddammit!” JJ picked up a pillow from the bed and threw it on the floor. You flinched at his raised voice, backing away from the bed even more.

“But it’s okay,” you said, voice shaking slightly. “I handled it.”

He turned to look at you, saw how far you had moved away, and his features softened.

“I don’t care about Topper,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice calm. You took that to mean that he wanted to know about Rafe.

“I thought it was Rafe too,” you told him. “But when I went to confront him, he told me about Topper and the pictures and...why he had taken them.”

JJ watched you, eyes smoldering, but he wasn’t going to interrupt you.

“You remember that party at the Cameron’s?”

“When you kissed Rafe because you were mad at me?”

“Um, yeah. That party.” You felt your cheeks heaten. JJ stood, taking a few steps closer to you. “Well, apparently, Rafe was upset that I kissed him because-”

“Because he likes you.”

JJ was nearer to you now and you stepped away until you hit the wall.

“He didn’t exactly say it like that.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that he hates seeing us together. He’s jealous of you,” you told him, breathless as he neared and leaned against the wall, putting his hand by your head. “But he knows where his place is.”

You weren’t entirely sure what JJ was going to say as he stared down at you. Your breathing was deep, heavy, heart-pounding painfully in your chest. It was almost like fear, but you weren’t afraid.

“Tell me I’m yours,” he said finally. You blinked a few times. When it finally sunk into your brain what he had said, you lifted your hands to his face.

“You’re mine.” His eyes closed and he let out a deep breath at your words. “And I am yours. Only yours.”

The relief on his face passed. You didn’t even have the chance to think about what was going to come next before he crashed his lips against yours, pushing you back against the wall. You let out a shocked gasp, which JJ took full advantage of. He had you pinned against the wall. There was no way you were going anywhere, but you didn’t really want to.

You had never seen him like this, never felt him kiss you so hungrily. It was more than just desire, there was something else there. You broke the kiss, pushing him back with a knowing smile.

“Are you jealous, Maybank?” You asked. He narrowed his eyes. It was a confirmation in and of itself. You stood on your toes, pressing a gentle kiss against his neck and then another, longer one. He tightened his hands around your waist, his nails scratching your skin.

“Shit,” he breathed, making you smile as you kissed his skin again. “You keep doing that and I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.”

You pulled back, meeting his eyes.

“Then don’t.”

***

The next morning, you sat with boys on Pope’s small boat, on the way to the HMS Pogue to pick up the girls.

“You guys have fun last night?” John B asked, a smirk on his face. You coughed, cheeks turning red. JJ threw an empty beer can at John B’s head.

“My eyes are still burning,” Pope said, rubbing his eyes dramatically.

“Two hands on the wheel, Pope,” you said, trying to pretend that your face wasn’t on fire with embarrassment.

“Not our fault you guys went out for late night ice cream,” JJ said. “We thought you were asleep.”

“I doubt we would have been able to sleep through-”

“John B, if you say another word, I will castrate you,” you told him with a smile. You didn’t want to think about it. It had been embarrassing enough when they walked in on you and JJ, still deep in a heavy make-out against the wall. It wasn’t really something you wanted to relive every three seconds.

John B cringed and fell silent. Apparently, he didn’t want to be castrated.

“Good choice.”

Picking up the girls, you could tell there was a difference in their attitudes toward each other. Even if they vowed that they still hated each other, you knew that wasn’t the case. You were just glad not to be stuck with the boys anymore.

“Next time you guys get stranded on a boat together, please take me with you,” you whined as they climbed back in the boat.

“Next time, don’t be an accomplice,” Sarah said, raising her eyebrows at you.

“That’s fair.”

“So,” John B said, clapping his hands together. “We need to get supplies. Rope, flashlights, dark clothes, the whole deal. We’re hitting the Craine house once the sun goes down. Yeah?”

There was a series of nods from around the boat as Pope headed back toward shore.

“We’re gonna get that gold,” he said with a large smile. The quiet nodding turned into loud cheers.

Your heart soared with the thought of it. You had your boy sitting beside you, his hand on your thigh and a smile on his lips. And soon, you were going to have your hands on a large pile of gold. Life couldn’t be any better.

***

Adrenaline ran through you as you gasped for breath. A crazy, blind lady shooting at you wasn’t something you were expecting for this night, but here you were, bolting from the Craine house as fast as your legs would take you.

JJ made it to the van first, jumping in the front seat. You were second, sliding into the passenger seat and throwing the sliding door open for the others. They all piled in after each other, except for John B, who had yet to even jump the wall. JJ turned to car over and slowly started to drive off.

You could still hear the old woman shrieking, firing off round after round from her gun.

“Why are we always getting shot at?” Pope yelled.

“Get in, John B!” Kie yelled, hanging out the door and offering him a hand. Sarah and Pope held onto Kie to keep her from falling out. Kie and Pope yelled over each other, Kie at John B and Pope at JJ, until the final member of their part jumped into the van.

Kie slammed the door shut and JJ sped off, pressing his foot harder on the gas. There was a lot more yelling, a few swear words thrown back and forth. You turned back around to look down at John B, who was absolutely covered in mud.

“Dude,” you sighed, holding your nose.

“JJ, drive!” Sarah called.

“Go, man!”

The van lurched forward. John B laughed.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked him. “Are you shot?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“You good?” Pope asked.

“Yeah, yeah.” His voice was shaking from the adrenaline.

“You stink,” you said. John B looked up at you with a smile.

“Thanks, Elm.”

“I think I’d know if I was shot, right?” Kie said, feeling her chest and stomach. Sarah did the same.

“What the hell just happened?” Sarah asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

“All-time Pogue Hall of fame, baby!” JJ hollered, tapping his hands excitedly against the wheel. You grinned, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“That bitch is possessed,” Kie said.

“That bitch can’t aim,” Sarah added with a laugh.

“She’s pretty spry for a dinosaur,” you said, still breathing heavily.

“I’m telling you,” Kie said, swallowing and then shaking her head. “She’s possessed.”

“I don’t get it,” Pope said.”

“She’s blind.”

“Like Master Yoda.”

“Yoda wasn’t blind,” you said.

“Yeah, but he was old and moved super fast.” Pope shook his head. “It makes no sense, scientifically.”

“She does yoga. Pilates, probably.”

You looked down at John B, who held something muddy and disgusting in his hand. Your mouth fell open.

“Oh my god,” JJ said, glancing back.

“You didn’t,” Sarah gasped with a smile.

“What is that?” asked Kie.

“We did it, baby!” John B shouted. That was gold in his hands. Real gold.

“Oh my god,” You laughed, leaning farther out of your chair. “Oh my god!”

A series of screams and shouts for joy filled the van. JJ hooked a hand on your shoulder and shook you back and forth.

“Full Kook!” John B started, pumping a fist up and down in the air. Everyone picked up on the chanting.

The gold was down there. John B had found it. You were going to be rich. You were going to afford that lawyer, get Kid away from your dad. The dream you once had was slowly becoming a reality. You couldn’t stop laughing.

“Full Kook! Full Kook! Full Kook!”

***

The next morning, you sat with Kie and Sarah in the van, reviewing the plan that the boys had come up with. You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly drawing.

“Who drew this?” Sarah asked, a quiet laugh still in her voice.

“Who do you think?” Kie looked over to where Pope and John B were sitting. Pope looked up and grinned. Kie held his gaze for a moment. You glanced over at Sarah and she looked over at you. The two of you let out a little laugh, which turned Kie’s attention back to the plan.

“Kie!” JJ said, walking up to the van. “This better work.”

He dropped the gold into the bottom of the van, crossing his arms.

“We can’t pawn this off if there’s a giant wheat symbol on it,” he continued. With a smile, Kie plucked a blow torch off the ground and held it up.

“It’s gonna work,” she said.

You sat off to the side as Kie blow-torched the gold in a small pot above a flame. JJ and Pope leaned over, watching the gold melt carefully. You chewed on your fingernail, legs shaking up and down.

Not much later, you were all back in the van, shuddering down the road on the way to the pawnshop.

“They might not have the cash for the entire thing,” you said as JJ fiddled with your fingers. “If we break it into pieces and take it to different pawnshops-”

“This will work, Elm,” John B said from the front. You nodded slowly. Overthinking again, you thought to yourself. No need to overthink everything.

When the van slowed to a stop, you felt your stomach flipped. This was the moment of truth. You got this money now, pay off JJ’s restitution, and then go get the rest of the gold. It was all going to work out. You had to believe that.

You hopped out of the van behind JJ as he pulled the gold out of his pocket.

“Hell of a job melting it down, Dr. Frankenstein,” JJ said, turning to look at Kie, who rolled her eyes.

“Like you could have done better.”

“I could have. I took a welding class.”

“You-” She narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head to the side. “When?”

“Hey.” John B stepped between them. “Shh. Chill out, okay?”

“Easy for you to say,” JJ grumbled. “You’re not the one that has to sell this piece of shit off. How did I get this job anyway?”

“‘Cause you’re the best liar,” Pope said as they started toward the pawnshop. JJ glanced back at you and you shrugged, arms crossed. The Pogues had no reason to doubt you when you lied to them about all the things you lied to them about, so they would have no need to think that you were a pretty good liar. When they gave JJ the job, there was no way you were going to protest.

The six of you filed into the shop, JJ in the front.

“Afternoon, ma’am.”

Everyone spread out rather lamely, standing in front of different objects and pretending to actually care about what they were looking at. If there was anymore sneaking around and lying going on, you were definitely going to have to give them a few pointers as to how to act natural.

JJ spoke to the lady up front, trying his hardest to convince her that the gold was real before she even would talk about price. You tried to cover a laugh as he told a fake story about his mom melting down her earrings.

“Best liar my ass.” You shook your head, turning back to look at a wooden chicken on the wall. The woman at the cash register clearly didn’t believe him. She went to the back to talk to her boss, giving Pope and Kie time to go and talk to JJ. He looked back at you and you gave him a thumbs up, making him smile.

When the woman returned, she slid a piece of paper over to JJ.

“Fifty thousand?” JJ asked. You nearly choked, turning to look at them. JJ tried to negotiate, but the woman had her eyebrows raised. No one was really even trying to pretend that they weren’t paying attention anymore. He and the woman passed quips back and forth until the woman gave one last offer.

“70,” she said. Your heart leaped. “And I won’t ask where you got this.”

You tried to bite back a smile. JJ accepted. But then you hit another snag. The money wasn’t in the shop. She didn’t have the cash in the shop. As soon as she mentioned going to a warehouse, your smile fell. That didn’t sound right. There was something strange going on.

But you were probably overthinking things again. What reason did you have to doubt her? None of your friends did. You tried to shove down your concerns as John B drove to the address that the woman had given to JJ.

“They keep the gold all the way out here?” Pope asked.

“That’s what she said.” JJ laughed. “That’s what she said.”

You smiled, sitting on the floor by his side.

“Stop,” Pope said. Both your and JJ’s smiles dropped. Not the time for jokes, it seemed.

“I’ve never heard of Ressurection Drive,” Sarah said, turning back.

“Cause you’re rich,” JJ said.

“You haven’t heard of it either.”

You sat up straighter and looked out the window. The bad feeling in your stomach was starting to solidify. It was good to hear your friends starting to question this whole thing too. It made you feel a little less crazy.

A police siren startled all of you. Kie and Pope turned around to look at the car. You pushed yourself up, looking out of the back window.

“The cops? Out here?”

“Are you kidding me?” JJ shoved the gold back into his backpack.

“What did we do?” Sarah asked.

“That’s not a police car,” you said as John B pulled over. “No way any cops out here have a car like that.”

“JJ, did you bring the gun?” John B asked.

“No,” JJ zipped up his bag, throwing a blunt inside. “Everyone told me to leave it back at the place.”

“Thank god,” Kie sighed.

“That’s not a cop,” you said, watching the man get out of his car. JJ stood up and shoved the backpack into the hidden compartment beneath his seat. Your heart started to pound at the sight of the man walk toward the van. A black bandana stretched across his face. You shook your head a few times as the others argued about weed and making sure that it was all packed away.

You saw the gun too late. You didn’t have a good view of it until it was shoved through the front window right at John B’s face.

You froze, your entire body going rigid. JJ slowly moved his hand reaching down to grab yours. You didn’t take in a single breath until you felt him squeeze your hand once.

“All y’all’s hands up in the air now!” the man with the mask shouted. You swallowed a lump in your throat and lifted your hands slowly, pulling it from JJ’s grip.

“You, out,” the man said to John B. “Let them out!”

John B slid out of the car slowly, hands still raised in the air. He walked around to the van door and opened it slowly. Sarah walked out first, and then Pope, Kie, you, and JJ last. The man kept shouting, yelling for you to back up.

“We’re broke-” JJ started. The man pointed the gun straight at him.

“Shut the hell up!”

“Alright!” JJ shouted back. “Relax!”

But the more he spoke, the angrier the man got. Pope put his hands on JJ’s shoulders and pulled him backward. You ducked under JJ’s raised hands to stand between him and the man.

“I’ll blow your damn head off!” the man said.

“Okay. Okay, we’re moving,” you said, voice steady.

“Lay down in the ditch!” JJ hesitated, glaring at the man with the gun. “Get on your hands and knees!”

You lowered yourself to your knees, putting your hands behind your head. JJ slowly followed after you.

“It’s okay,” you whispered to him, watching his muscles shake as he resisted the urge to beat the hell out of the man. JJ heaved, his breath ragged and his jaw tight. His eyes flitted back and forth as the man walked back toward the van. You risked moving to place your hand on his arm. “Look at me.”

Slowly, JJ’s eyes moved to meet yours. There was so much anger in him. That anger might just get him killed.

“It’s okay,” you whispered again. “We’re okay.”

He softened slowly before nodding his head once.

“It’s a setup,” Kie whispered.

“The old bat shanked us,” JJ ground out through his teeth. You glanced up at the van, putting your hand back behind your head.

“John B,” you heard Pope whisper. You lifted your head, watching John B sneak off toward the fake cop car. “Don’t be a hero man!”

You put your head back down, keeping your breathing steady. Even when the man emerged from the van and started shouting again, you didn’t look up. Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing.

At the sound of a struggle, you looked up one last time. John B was in the back of the car, trying to take the gun from the man. JJ was on his feet, running toward the car, and you were just behind him.

“I got the gun!” John B called out just as you and JJ neared the car. JJ grabbed hold of the man, spinning him around. He ducked under a punch before hitting the man in the ribcage. The man hit JJ across the cheek, only to be greeted by you with a punch to the face. You hit him again before he shoved you backward. You tripped over your feet, hitting your head against the hard ground. Kie got to him next, giving him a good punch. John B used the gun to knock him off his feet.

“I got the gold!” Pope cried as Sarah slammed the car door into the guy’s head twice.

Your head buzzed with the sting of pain.

“C’mon,” Kie said, grabbing holding of your arm and helping you to your feet. Pope ran around the car and kicked the man in the face, knocking him onto his back. JJ walked over to you, putting a hand on your face and checking your eyes.

“I’m good,” you said. You turned back toward the man on the ground. John B yanked his bandana off of his face. JJ tensed.

“I know this piece of shit,” he growled. “He’s a basehead.”

“Probably knows my brother,” Sarah said with a sigh, running her hands through her hair.

“He sells coke to my dad.” JJ plucked the gun off the ground.

“Listen,” the man groveled, his voice slurred from the blood dripping down his nose. “I couldn’t hurt a single one of y’all-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence before JJ jabbed the butt of the gun against his nose. Kie and Pope both yelled at him and John B took the gun from his hands, but you wouldn’t have cried if he did it again. The asshole on the ground deserved it.

“Let’s get out of here,” John B said. But JJ wasn’t done yet. He bent down and rummaged through the man’s pockets before pulling out a wallet.

“We got one last stop,” JJ said, shoving John B away from him and storming back to the car. You brought your hand up to your mouth. Beating the guy up was justified, sure, but he was down. No one except him got hurt. Pope had the gun. There was nothing else to be done. But JJ was on a warpath.

Kie looked at you as if you could somehow stop him, but you just shook your head.

“Let’s go see where this son of a bitch lives,” JJ called back.

“I’m gonna remember this!” the man yelled from the ground while you made your way back to the van. “You can’t hide from me! I know exactly who y’all are!”

You jumped into the back of the van, settling yourself into the seat where JJ had been sitting before. Putting your head in your hands, you decided that it was time to go back to listening to your gut. Overthinking or not, there was nothing wrong with playing it safe.

154 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 5 years

Text

Dragon Ball Z 272

Last time, Majin Buu turned Vegito into candy, which means there’s no one left to fight him..... except Krillin and Yamcha. See, King Kai had the same idea as King Yemma with Vegeta, and the Elder Kai had with Goku. Except all King Kai has is Krillin and Yamcha, and no magic power-up items to let them use. You’d think he would at least try to contact the Elder Kai and score some more Potara earrings.

Failing that, what is Krillin supposed to do that he didn’t already try the first time he fought Buu? That fight lasted like two seconds.

Hell, Yamcha didn’t even get to fight. He got hit with the candy beam while trying to find cover. Now that he’s dead, he just wants to chill out and train, and take a relaxing shower after his workout.

As far as he’s concerned, life on the Grand Kai Planet is better than Earth anyway, so why bother fighting Buu? His only complaint is that there’s no hot chicks on this planet, which irritates me. There’s no girl warriors who got the honor of keeping their body to train on the Grand Kai Planet? That’s not even true, because we saw a few in the crowd at the Otherworld Tournament. Maybe none of them are Yamcha’s type.

Anyway, don’t count Vegito out just yet, because Buu seems to be having a little trouble following through on his plan to eat the guy.

Yeah, turns out VEGITO CAN STILL FIGHT IN CANDY FORM. He can talk too, which is pretty messed up.

Everyone watching is like “Whaaaaa?“

Buu isn’t convinced that this is a problem. Even if Vegito has all his original power, he can still eat the guy.

Only, no, he can’t. Turns out fighting Candy Vegito is like trying to swat a fly with all the powers of Vegito. Buu can’t even catch the guy, while Vegito can zip around in any direction and slam into him like a bullet.

When Buu can’t grab hold of the thing, he can’t actually do anything to him, because Vegito’s strong enough to keep moving in spite of being in Buu’s grip. You know, he should have just lured Vegito underwater, and hoped that the sea would dissolve him. Then again, maybe that would turn Vegito into an ocean, and he’d be able to kick Buu’s ass even harder that way.

At one point, Vegito even flies straight into Buu’s mouth and shoots out the other side, shearing off his head tentacle again. So even if Buu could get the thing in his mouth, how could he possibly swallow him?

So Buu does the only sensible thing and changes Vegito back to normal. But it’s not like Vegito was any easier to beat this way.

This is the thing that always bugged me about the Candy Beam in the video games. First, it’s only temporary, which I guess is a concession to the game mechanics, but okay. But it seems to me that there should be a thing where if you use it on Vegito, he should damage the user instead. I guess the same should apply to anyone as strong or stronger than Vegito.

Anyway, Vegito does his Happy Dance, while the Elder Kai reaaaaaalllllly wishes Vegito would just hurry up and finish this fight.

Then we get this flashback to when King Yemma got Vegeta to agree to return to Earth to fight Buu. The first time I saw this scene, I was grateful, because they kept talking about it for several episodes, but it seemed kind of convenient. There’s some plot holes to some of these King Yemma scenes we’ve seen, because he probably would have been busy preparing Vegeta for this, but instead he was stressing out over all the paperwork for Buu’s victims.

Anyway, the story isn’t all that complicated, and now that I know what happened, this scene seems a bit gratuitous, but no more so than any other filler.

In a nutshell, King Yemma isn’t supposed to give shady characters like Vegeta their bodies back, but he did it this time because he needs him to go down and help fight Buu. Furthermore, he informs Vegeta that his self-destruct attack on Majin Buu failed, which means his death was meaningless, “no more than a dog’s death”.

Then we have a flashback within a flashback, which is weird, but we probably needed this, since Episode 237 was a while ago.

So this upsets Vegeta and he powers up-- I can’t tell if he’s Super Saiyan with this weird color palette-- but he wrecks the decor in Yemma’s room. Nevertheless, he agrees to cooperate, but Vegeta probably would have done that anyway, so that crack about the “dog’s death” was probably overdoing it.

So this is another plot hole. We’ve seen Yemma’s place a few times during the last thirty episodes, but this is the first time we’ve seen all this damage to the walls. Yemma hopes that King Kai will help him out with the repair bills. Wait, King Kai has money? I doubt he’d share any, since he’s homeless and all.

Back on Earth, Buu still won’t admit he’s outclassed, so Vegito starts really laying into him. Only now, Buu can’t pull himself back together as easily.

And he just keeps hitting him. That really scary music from the OST plays. Let me see if I can find it...

youtube

Okay, so turns out it’s from the Movie 11 score, which you can find on this track from the DBZ Complete BGM album, about 5:03 in.

Anyway, Buu gets totalled here, and when he puts himself back together, he insists that it didn’t hurt....

Except he failed to regenerate the hole in his stomach on the first try.

Vegito is satisfied that Buu’s regeneration powers have reached their limit. From here, even if Buu continues fighting, he’ll just get weaker and weaker until he gives out completely. So he declares that he’ll now put Buu out of his misery.

Buu objects, but Vegito shoves a Spirit Sword through his face. Oh, okay, so that’s why this is his finisher in the video games.

Vegito announces that he’ll give Buu a ten-count before killing him. That’ll give him time to pray or make peace with his demise or whatever. If he wants to die sooner, Vegito invites him to attack him one more time.

So, to follow up on a reply from @mach13elephantexplosion back in Episode 268, I went back and checked, and Buu was indeed counting to five using the “hitotsu, futatsu, mittsu“ Japanese counting system. Vegito, on the other hand, is using “ichi, ni, san...”

In particular, Vegito’s using the word “shi” for 4 and “shichi” for 7. Those were the words I learned a long time ago whenever I learned to count to ten in Japanese, and it always frustrates me whenever I hear actual Japanese speakers use “yon” and “nanna” instead. I mean, it’s their language, they can use it as they please, of course. Really, what annoys me is that wherever I learned the words for Japanese numbers neglected to consider which words are actually used in regular speech. The Japanese avoid “shi” because it’s a homonym for their word for “death”. Same deal with “shichi” for 7, because it has “shi” in it. Apparently “ku” for 9 is a similar issue, because it’s a homonym for “agony”, which I guess is how “kyu” became a thing. But ku and kyu sound similar enough that I can’t pick up the difference.

The point I’m making here is that Vegito ain’t fuckin’ around. “One! Two! Three! DEATH! Five! Six! DEATH-chi! Eight! AGONY! Ten!” This is CZW.

As Vegito counts, Buu realizes that his only chance is to absorb Vegito like he did with the others, but how can he do it without being noticed?

Then he notices the head tentacle, which Vegito lopped off a few minutes ago.

And as he mentally summons it to sneak up on Vegito, we see that this is exactly what Vegito was waiting for. I think it’s safe to say that most of Vegito’s hot-dogging in this fight was for the sole purpose of forcing Buu to use up all of his other options until he had no choice but to try this.

Even so, Vegito seems a bit nervous that his plan may not work.

But the die is cast. As Vegito reaches ten, Buu springs his trap...

And Vegito uses a ki force field to protect himself.

And that’s it. Buu merges with the piece of himself, just like every other absorption, although he never actually changes appearance, like he did with the others. But he’s so happy to be rid of Vegito that he doesn’t notice.

Mr. Satan barely understands what’s happened, while Dende is horrified. With Goku and Vegeta gone, there’s no one left to save the Earth.

An observation shared by the Supreme Kais.

Meanwhile, Buu let’s Vegito know that he’s number one.

#dragon ball #2019dbliveblog #fusion saga #vegito #majin buu #krillin #yamcha #king kai #king yemma #fortuneteller baba #kibitoshin #elder kai #dende #mr satan #vegeta #trunks

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